(Repost) Let’s talk about one of the little pleasures of life; a delicious pie. (duplicate)

Yeah, I get it. Donald Trump is running against Biden. It’s neck to neck,and coronavirus is ravishing America, and soon global warming (or is it cooling) is going to destroy the world as we know it. We must do something! Everyone screeches! And of course we have the underlying themes of “China is evil, bat eating, monsters”, and America must get involved in the Middle East, with Turkey and fight Iran, or some other such nonsense. And of course, a few billions of dollars in a train line that will connect Alaska with California is being considered as long as the right “palms are being greased”. Yawn.

Well, sit back.

“Pop a top” off your favorite ice cold beverage (if it’s wine it can be room temperature), and put on some easy tunes in the background.

We are going to discuss some really nice (and unappreciated) subjects right now. We are gonna talk about pies.

Pies.

Yup.

Pies.

Delicious, and tasty pies. You know, those things that are so delicious that most Americans now only get to sample a mere few times a month. Pies.

Wondrous.

Delicious.

Pies.

Almost every culture around the world has their own variation of a pie, whether it’s handheld or baked in a pan. Historically, pies have been favored not only for their delicious flavors but their ability to preserve their fillings for extended periods of time. This was especially useful not only during the winter but for long sea voyages as well.

In some places, pie underwent various transformations in public opinion, running the gamut from being praised to being considered deadly. But ultimately, pie has come out on top and is often brought out as a favorite treat during holidays.

The very first pies were primarily filled with meat, more often than not a type of bird. But before long, pies had conquered every flavor from savory to sweet. They now come in every imaginable shape and size and have transformed in every culture that they’ve come into contact with, creating a worldwide range of pies that is changing and coming up with new combinations of flavors every day. This is the long history of pie explained.

Memories…

An Australian or New Zealand meat pie is a hand-sized meat pie containing diced or minced meat and gravy, sometimes with onion, mushrooms, or cheese and often consumed as a takeaway food snack. The meat pie is considered iconic in Australia and New Zealand. It was described by former New South Wales Premier Bob Carr in 2003 as Australia's "national dish". New Zealanders regard the meat pie as a part of New Zealand cuisine, and it forms part of the New Zealand national identity.

-Wikipedia

The one thing that I will forever remember is the delicious “meat pie” that I used to get in Australia. There was this woman who would drive over an sell these “meat pies” to any one in the office. These were so delicious and she carried three different types and kinds that she manufactured at home in her kitchen.

She was my “meat pie lady”. And Lordy, I was her meat pie man.

Australian meat pie.

If you have never tried one, then you are truly missing out of one of the great pleasures in life. How Australians can keep such a wondrous thing so secret is beyond me. It has to be one of my most favorite things about Australia, and believe you me, I have many, many things that I love about Australia.

Traditionally, Aussie Meat Pies are made with beef sirloin, minced quite small along with other vegetables such as onions, carrots and mushrooms. (Although some Aussie Meat Pie are just onions and beef.) For our recipe, we went with beef loin choice sirloin tips – keeping the beef in larger chunks for cooking.

-Aussie Meat Pies - A Family Feast

So why is this important?

Well, have you read the “news” lately? It’s all full of doom and gloom. The world is apparently falling apart at the seams, and “something must be done!”. But not to worry, there is a hero on the sidelines that will set everything right. Everyone must just obey him and the world will be good again.

…

Sure. What ever you say.

…

Does all this “news” make your life better in some way? Do you feel like you are happier, more energized, and in complete control of our world and the world around you?

Well, I will have to keep the last article in mind the next time that I have a heart attack. I’ll get the cute EMS chick and tell her to have sex with me right then on the spot. You know! For humanity!

Today, where I live, it’s raining.

The rain is falling down in a light drizzle.

The neighborhood kitty-cats are are chillin’ out and look at each other between the hedges, the shrubs and the bushes. maybe something along the lines of this…

And you know what?

Do you think that they care anything at all about all this “news” going on? Do you think that they give a damn, or care a “rat’s ass” about anything going on in Washington DC? Do you think they care what is going on with the NFL, or Donald Trump? Nope.

They do not.

Nor does the rest of the world either.

And the rain still gently falls…

…

It’s days and times like this that are perfect to go into a nice local diner and get yourself a nice cup of coffee. No. I am not talking about the Starbucks franchise where you pay just under $10 for a coffee. I am talking about sitting at a counter, getting a nice cup of ‘Joe and a slice of pie (with a scoop of ice cream) for half that amount.

Coffee gif. — Nothing goes better with coffee than a nice freshly baked pie.

So what defines a pie?

A pie is considered to be any sort of pastry shell that has a filling, either meat or sweet, and is covered with a top crust.

Simple, eh?

The top crust is an essential component in traditional pies, for according to Everything Pies, without the top crust, the pastry simply becomes a tart. (A tart is a pie without a top? Who would of known?)

A delicious American meat pie. It's not just Australians that get to enjoy this wonderful treat, don't you know. — A delicious American meat pie. It’s not just Australians that get to enjoy this wonderful treat, don’t you know.

While a tart may be considered a subset of a pie, most American pies would be considered tarts in England. This discrepancy emerged when pies transformed in their travels to America.

The word "pie" started being used in Medieval Latin around 1300. It's likely related to "pia," meaning "pastry," and is also believed to be connected with the word "pica," which refers to magpies. This connection is thought to be because of the birds' habit of collecting random objects, often like the ingredients that went into pies.

-Online Etymology Dictionary

While purists will maintain strict definitions of what counts as a pie or not, almost every culture has a version of a pie, especially ones that are handheld and portable.

Pies around the world

Rightly so, pies have proliferated around the world. While the form may vary across cultures, there seems to be a consistent urge across the globe to fill pastry shells with some sort of savory or sweet filling.

American delicious Blueberry pie. — American Blueberry pie.

Hand pies are especially prolific, because who wouldn’t want a pie that’s portable?

While most hand pies have a semilunar shape, they can be found in all shapes and sizes around the world. Most hand pies are smaller versions of traditional meat pies, but no two are entirely alike. 

Empanadas and Jamaican patties are arguably the most popular hand pies in the world, but spanakopitas and samosas come in at a close second.

-The Takeout

Bastilla, also known as pastilla, is an example of a Moroccan meat pie that brings together the two ends of the pie spectrum, sweet and savory, into a rich blend of poultry, cinnamon, almonds, and sugar.

Even pizza masquerades as a pie. But no matter where one travels, pies have surely gotten there first.

Hieroglyphic pie recipes

The earliest known dish resembling a pie comes from the Neolithic period in ancient Egypt, as far back as between roughly 9500 BCE and 2000 BCE.

I can well imagine some Ancient Egyptians chillin’ out under the trees, and smunching on a fine pie. (In those days, Egypt was not a desert. It was forested with woodlands, wet lands, and a great diversity of wildlife. All under a bright blue sky.)

According to the BBC, one example of an ancient Egyptian pie was made out of barley, oats, rye, or wheat and filled with honey. The crust is thought to have been rather dense, and since the crusts of some of the early pies weren’t meant to be eaten, it’s possible that this crust was meant to hold the filling rather than be eaten itself, similar to a bread bowl.

Well…

That’s what they think, eh?

According to What’s Cooking America, drawings of pies that used fruits and honey can also be found on the walls of the tomb of Ramses II, who ruled from 1304 to 1237 BCE. And who would of known that Ramses the Great was a pie lover?

I know it was a surprise to me.

How about for youse guys?

Phyllo Meat Pies (Egyptian Goulash). — Phyllo Meat Pies (Egyptian Goulash)

Ancient Egyptians also made classic meat pies as well, with a chicken pie recipe being found carved in hieroglyphs on a tablet. The first recorded use of yeast occurred around roughly 2600 BCE, so it’s likely that they were making bread-filled pastries around the same time.

Chicken and dumplings couldn’t have been far behind…

Anyways, ancient Egyptian pie evolved into modern-day feteer meshaltet, which translates to “cushion-like pie.”

Feteer meshaltet is thought to have appeared in a semilunar form at one point as well, and it’s believed that the semilunar feteer meshaltet traveled to France, where it transformed into the croissant. Probably brought over by some of those French Soldiers that were busily conquering Egypt for the Great French Empire.

You know, back then France had to conduct these “police actions” in the middle East, or else they might suffer the fate of… (well, no one really knows what they would suffer from…)… but they had to do it… for the children (don’t you know) and for other reasons that I just cannot say because of “national security”.

You know the drill.

Pies for all of history

From ancient Egypt, pies made their way into ancient Greece by the fifth century BCE.

According to Visit Greece, pies were part of the everyday diet of ancient Greeks. They loved their pies. It was almost a national obsession. Greeks and pies were inseparable. You know, like olive oil and wine.

And every city and village, whether on the mainland or on an island, has their own version of a pie, with different fillings, sizes, and shapes.

According to Cycladia, the Northwestern region of Epirus is the most famous region for Greek pies, likely due to its high population of sheep, which produce a wide variety of cheese, and its plethora of herbs and vegetation. Spanakopita is likely the most famous Greek pie, known for its savory spinach and cheese layers.

The Greek poet Philoxenus writes in his poem “The Banquet” of the hosts of a party serving a pastry made with honey and milk that was baked like a pie. Pies are even mentioned in the plays of Aristophanes, with multiple descriptions of small pastries filled with fruit.

Party on! Dionysus dudes and dudettes!

Wine, and pies…

What could be finer?

Well, the Romans had some ideas. And they believed that debauchery is best served with delicious pies, members of the opposite sex, and lots and lots of wine. And maybe some surprises…

Roman Era Chefs Made Pot Pies With A Living Bird Inside …

And so, the Romans took the concept from the Greeks and made their pastry shells specifically for encasing and preserving the taste of the filling, rather than to be eaten. It was this version of the pie that made its way through Europe and to Britain.

History and Pies

I know, I know. I get it.

Why would anyone give a care or concern about early pie design? Who care what the Egyptians, the Greeks or the Romans ate? Why does it matter now? After all, this is the “most important time in history” don’t you know. We have been told this over and over and over. How America is so wonderful, and if it wasn’t for the great works of America, China and Europe would be nothing.

Well…

Maybe. Maybe not.

The rest of the world aren’t some kind of pale shadow that sit in the dark recesses of the curtains and await for the latest news out of Washington DC. The rest of the world just doesn’t care. It just doesn’t care.

And you shouldn’t either.

So I am gonna illustrate why you should care more about what the ancient Greeks ate and drank than what the “news” out of Washington DC says…

Ohhh. So much strife. So much bad news. So much SHIT being piled up upon you all in big smouldering piles.

Is the news actually real?

The news media is full of bull shit. — See all these “reporters” who are monitoring and reporting on the horrible abuse of the poor defenseless freedom-loving pro-democracy protestors. You can see just how ugly and terrible the HK police is, now can’t you?

I argue that all “news” is fake and intentional manipulation.

I also argue that there is no longer any “alternative” sources for news and opinion. They are all controlled by the government. Yes, that mans not only the “mainstream press”, but also the Alt-Right and the Alt-Left press. To see just how insane this all is, you need to step out of your environment and look in. You know, like an outsider would.

Let’s try this exercise, shall we.

Let’s step out side and look in.

Let’s look at what the Indian Press is reporting on. As I have, for the longest time been preaching that the American CIA under Mike Pompeo controls the Indian press, and Indian “news”. So what is the Indian press reporting on…

Hum…

Yeah. The “war drums” are beating really loudly in India.

Bet you weren’t aware of that, were you? That’s because the news is for Indian consumption, not for American, Chinese, or Russian consumption. The Indian news is to direct the mood, and motivations of Indians for easy control by their government.

Just like it is for the American news media. It is for control of the American population. It is not the “truth”.

Makes me want to chill out and have a pie.

Delicious yam and pumpkin pie. — When the world seems out of control, it’s a sign that you all need to go ahead, sit down and have nice delicious pie.

And that is the truth.

You see…

The entire world is trying to twist you, turn you, manipulate you. It is trying to fleece you with a billion tiny hands on your wallet, and using your emotions to force you to do things and move in certain predetermined ways. The ruling oligarchy knows this, and they are not concerned. They know that it’s all bullshit.

So what happens when…

…when you are so caught up in the pains of “modern life” that you don’t know what to do? Well, the answer is simple.

You go out and get a pie.

When the world seems out of control, and everything is hard, harsh and gloomy, you can always count on a fine cup of coffee and a fresh pie.

And pies…

Well, it doesn’t need to be a pie. It can be a ice-cold butterscotch milkshake. It can be a few hours fishing. It can be a bicycle ride down the quiet residential streets of your community. It can be carving some wood. It can be a nice quiet ride in a canoe. It can be just chilling our with your dog under your tree in the back yard, with a ice cold frosty beer in your hand.

It can be anything.

And for me…

…on this rainy day, it’s pies.

Pies get medieval

In medieval Britain, pies were primarily filled with meat, and the pastry shells weren’t necessarily eaten, like in Rome. The biggest appeal of pies was their ability to conserve space and preserve food for a longer time, especially on long sea voyages. These pies also had significantly more crust than filling and were known as “pyes.”

According to Slate, the pie crust was solely functional and was intended to be a hard shell that had to be broken open to get at the delicious filling inside. The crust was made to be incredibly thick so that it was able to withstand being baked over a fire for several hours. And funnily enough, the pie crusts themselves were referred to as “cofyns,” which just means “box.” This especially emphasizes the pie’s ability to store food, since the thick crust also helped keep food fresh for longer.

Of course, the need to make an easy food that is portable remains to this day. In the more remote and mountainous areas of China, the food still has to be transported up the mountainsides and through inhospitable terrain. It is important that the food be easy to eat with one hand while the other hand holds the ladder… (Click for the movie to pop up in a different tab.)

During this time, the most common filling was crow, and it’s rumored that the feet were used as handles. Birds in general were often used as filling, and songbirds especially were considered a delicacy. But according to Pie: A Global History by Janet Clarkson, it’s not clear exactly what the recipes for medieval pie crusts were. Medieval cookbooks weren’t intended to be instruction manuals and were instead more for those who were tasked with provisioning the kitchen, rather than the cooks themselves. And since pies were so commonplace, almost every cook knew how to make the crust in their sleep.

Eating crow is a colloquial idiom, used in some English-speaking countries, that means humiliation by admitting having been proven wrong after taking a strong position.

The crow is a carrion-eater that is presumably repulsive to eat in the same way that being proven wrong might be emotionally hard to swallow . The exact origin of the idiom is unknown, but it probably began with an American story published around 1850 about a dim-witted New York farmer.

-Eating crow - Wikipedia

Breaking out of the pie shell

Medieval pies sometimes included dinner and a show. Known as animated pies, a large crust would be baked over a wooden scaffolding with a hole in the bottom, from which the cook would afterward seal in live birds and a cooked pie. This way, when the top crust was cut open, the live birds would fly out of the outer pie. This custom is still referenced today in the nursery rhyme “Sing a Song of Sixpence.” Live birds weren’t the only things that burst out of pies. According to What’s Cooking America, other small animals, such as turtles, rabbits, and frogs, were also frequently incorporated.

Never a dull moment, don’t ya know.

Sometimes, people would also pop out for entertainment. One such person was Jeffrey Hudson, who was known for his small stature, reportedly standing only 18 inches tall at age seven. According to The Vintage News, when Hudson was seven, he was presented to King Charles I and Queen Henrietta Maria in London, bursting through the crust of a pie dressed in knight’s armor. Queen Henrietta was so amused by Hudson’s small stature that she took him on as her court dwarf.

What an honor! Wouldn’t you just love to be the royal court dwarf?

While there were some versions of sweet pies, in medieval Britain, they were distinguished from meat pies as tarts. And since sugar was expensive and rare, it wasn’t commonly used as an ingredient, so medieval sweet pies might not be considered sweet to a modern palette.

Personally, I would find them rather disgusting.

The queen always tries first

While Elizabeth I isn’t necessarily remembered for her role in the legacy of pie, she’s actually involved in the story of what’s thought to be the world’s first cherry pie. According to the BBC, the first cherry pie was reportedly baked for Elizabeth, although no one knows whether or not she enjoyed it.

When was the last time that you had a fine and delicious cherry pie? For me, it was far too long ago. Sigh.

During the 16th century, pies also continued the tradition of having appearances in plays. A pie plays a pivotal role in William Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus, becoming a literal coffin for Chiron and Demetrius after they brutalize Titus’ children. Titus not only kills Chiron and Demetrius and bakes them into a pie, but he goes on to serve that pie to their mother before murdering her as well.

Pies were also a popular snack for people in the upper classes to eat while watching the plays of Shakespeare. According to The Star, those who sat in the gallery often enjoyed meat pies in addition to crabs and dried figs. People in lower classes who watched from the yard snacked on oysters instead.

And, yes. No wonder there was a problem with over-population in the lower classes. heh heh.

Pies travel the Atlantic

As the British invaded and colonized North America, they brought pies along with them. I always envisioned that the reason that the British wore coats of red, was to cover up the pie stains that they would have from their massive intakes of delicious and wondrous pies.

With the different ingredients available across the Atlantic, American pies began to deviate from traditional British recipes.

While the popularity of pies wouldn’t explode until the 1800s, colonists often made pies in order to preserve the foods that were used for filling, which would keep during the winter months. According to Time Magazine, despite the fact that apple pie is considered to be quintessentially American, even that came over from England. And until sugar became included in the recipe, it was a far cry from the sweet treat known today.

Mark Twain, also known as Samuel Clemens, was reportedly a big fan of pies, and when he visited Europe, he apparently disparaged the food he encountered, longing instead for the many different kinds of pie to be found back home in the United States.

According to Slate, it was during their travel to America that the difference between tarts and pies became lost to the Americans. It was also around this time that sweet pies began to be more popular. With the establishment of sugar colonies in the Caribbean, sugar became much more common than it had previously been. And thus…

The rise of sweet pies

During their occupation and colonization of the Caribbean, the British established hundreds of sugar colonies that were kept running by the enslaved people kidnapped from Africa. On most of the islands, upwards of 80 percent of the population was enslaved. And you know why they needed to do it. It was “for the children”, and while the records are either missing or sealed, we know that it was because of “national security”.

The spread of sugar plantations led to the proliferation of sugar across Europe and North America, demonstrative in the rise of sweet pies. According to Pie: A Global History by Janet Clarkson, while fruit wasn’t entirely absent from pie recipes before the inclusion of sugar, it was rarely the primary ingredient. Most pies were made of a mixture of meats and the newly acquired sugar from the slave plantations.

America became a new world full of wondrous delights and fun and frolic.

By the Victorian era, mince pies, made of an assortment of dried fruits and spices, were also a common sugary treat, and soon, “mincemeat” didn’t even have to include meat. And recipe books began including meat-free versions alongside traditional meat pie recipes, allowing for the proliferation of hundreds of different types of pies. With the spread of dairy and eggs, cream pies also rose in popularity alongside fruit pies.

The criticism of pies

As pie became more popular, it also came under attack in the mid-1800s. According to the Los Angeles Times, Harper’s Magazine published an attack on pies in 1866, which hyperbolically claimed that, “Pie in countless varieties waits upon us through life. Pie kills us finally.” Claiming that the dough of pie crusts was indigestible, dietary reformers continually tried to steer people away from eating pies.

Why “there ought to be a law”…

According to The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink, dietary reformers claimed to be interested in the science of nutrition, but a lot of their attacks seemed to be geared toward immigrants and low-income people. Claiming that if people changed what they ate, then the American spirit wouldn’t be weighed down by so much dough, people like Sarah Tyson Rore, food editor of the Ladies’ Home Journal, made sure to frequently warn people about how pies took too much energy to digest. I am sure that she had the “best interests” of the people in mind.

Don’t you?

You all don’t want that insatiable “American spirit” to die and drown out under a gluttony of pies.

The Century Cookbook, published in 1895, decided to include the comment that, “The American pie is perhaps the most ridiculed of dishes. […] The mince pie, probably the most indigestible of all, is the one universally accepted as a treat, and seldom refused by the scoffer.”

According to Smithsonian Magazine, some even believed that eating pie was a cause of divorce, like alcoholism.

Eating a pie was the first step towards alcoholism.
Eating a pie was the first step to a divorce.
Eating a pie, and suddenly the women would want to smoke cigarettes.
Eating a pie, and before you know it, woman’s ankles will be exposed to the public!

But with the outbreak of World War I, eating pie became a patriotic activity. Pies became a symbol of that which soldiers missed while they were off fighting in foreign countries. This association with patriotism would continue.

Eat a pie and fight the evil German horde!

We are all under manipulation. — The easiest people to manipulate are those that believe that they are avoiding manipulation by reading “alternative media” like Alt-Right or Alt-Left publications.

The alternating popularity of pie

According to Slate, during the Great Depression, Ritz crackers began including recipes for “mock apple pie” on the backs of their boxes. Made with the times in mind, the recipe suggested soaking the crackers in vanilla, lemon, and cinnamon to be used instead of real apple filling, since apples were in short supply and too expensive to indulge in.

By the mid-20th century, however, the popularity of pies began to rise again as canned fruit and instant pudding mixes made it easier to make filling. Ready-made pie crusts also drastically simplified the pie-making process, and with the spread of home refrigeration, chilled pie recipes also became increasingly common.

But, according to The Oxford Companion to American Food and Drink, simultaneously, the amount of pies being made started to dip as a result of urbanization and industrialization. As more and more women joined the workforce, the act of making a pie every week was too laborious an activity, so it started to become more of an occasional undertaking for special occasions. Like Christmas and Thanksgiving.

All the same, pies continued to persevere as a symbol of America. According to Smithsonian Magazine, when Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev went to New York City in 1960, someone sent an apple pie to his Park Avenue address. The American pie was meant to represent all the layers that America had, while “the Communist pie is nothing but crust.”

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is OIP.ee-45iNe4kLMM01mEFZtJgHaE7.jpgCommunist China meat baozi. It's a small palm sized pie that is steam and served piping hot and full of delicious and tasty juices. — Communist China meat baozi. It’s a small palm sized pie that is steam and served piping hot and full of delicious and tasty juices.

Pies endure

Today, pies are considered a quintessential dessert for some holidays and remain a savory meal for any day of the year. Pies also continue to evolve as people come up with hundreds of types of crusts and fillings.

After being called “an American evil” and an “unmoral food [sic]” by Kate Masterson in The New York Times in 1902, pies have remained a classic of not only American cuisine but of cuisines around the world.

The pie-in-the-face joke even endures as physical comedy.

Having a pie thrown in your face used to be funny. — Back in the day, having a pie thrown in your face was considered the height of comedy.

Pies have even become punnily associated with Pi Day, celebrated on March 14 due to its resemblance to the mathematical number.

But it seems that the exact definition of a pie still eludes us. According to Slate, Emily Elsen, founder of the pie shop “Four and Twenty Blackbirds,” her European customers call her pies “cakes,” and the debate of pies vs. tarts seems endless.

According to Smithsonian Magazine, the phrase “as American as apple pie” didn’t appear until 1924, when it was used in an advertisement for men’s suits. But no one culture has a monopoly on pies. Pies have transformed in every culture they’ve engaged with, and even if no one can determine exactly what counts as a pie, few will pass up a free slice.

And why this matters…

It seems like everyone, around the world, loves a good pie.

They are made everywhere, and if there is an argument between two people, the surest way to stop the argument is to offer them a free slice of pizza pie.

But you don’t have to do that, don’t you know.

You don’t have to wait until there is conflict or arguments or turmoil, or strife to take action. You can go out right now and get yourself a fine tasty pie. And what’s stopping you? When was the last time you went into a diner and got a slice of pie? Or is the only pie that you eat from McDonalds?

What is stopping you?

And …

And…

Why eat it alone? Why not ask that cute chick out for a free slice of pie and a cup of coffee, or your friends, or maybe you next door neighbor? Why not? What’s stopping you from driving over to your grandmothers house, and telling her that you want to take her out to get a fresh hot pie and a cup of coffee. Why not?

No.

You are not going to do it, are you?

You like the pre-birth world-line template that you are on right now, and doing something like this is way out of your character. Isn’t it?

Admit it.

isn’t it?

Or…

Maybe you have something better to do. Maybe the grass needs to be mowed, or the “news” is on and there is some urgent breaking news about the President! Or maybe there will be a hurricane, a tornado, or global warming (or cooling) will come forth and crush your life. Ya gotta be prepared. Don’t you know.

Look out the window.

It’s beautiful out there.

Beautiful.

And…

Well, for me the drizzle ended. It’s in the evening, and the sun is starting to dusk out. People are going out and relaxing. Some school kids are playing basketball out, and I can see a few couples strolling along the beach with their dog. I hear the school kids playing outside my building. It’s nice.

In fact, this time of the day is my favorite (well, one of my favorites). It’s when things start to get cooler and a nice breeze kicks up. The lights offer a rosy yellow gold glow to the deepening blue of the sky and the deep shades of the lush trees are soft, deep and dark.

At this time of the day, I usually toss the trash out.

Yeah, I know. Boring, eh?

Then we either go out to eat, or stay in. Not that I am hungry right now, but a fine glass of wine and some delicious food is always welcome. And that is what it is all about, isn’t it.

I can see some folk eating Shao Kao next door. This is the Chinese version of BBQ. You can smell the chicken cooking, and the hot peppers (yeah, it’s a thing. You put the hot peppers on a stick and you cook them. They lose about half of their hot spiciness, and get a little sweet.) The guys are starting to have a few beers with their meal. Nice.

You know.

All around the world we are the same.

The Chinese aren’t that evil bat-soup slurping group of evil heathen, and Americans are not pristine knights in white satin doing the good work of Jesus. We are just people. Living life. Having fun. Making friends. Enjoying the moments together.

I like to believe that there is a woman for every man, and many people that share the same interests that we all hold inside…

So…

What’s stopping YOU?

Is it that you don’t think that you want to meet other people, other gals, or do other things? Is it because you are so caught up in your own easy and comfortable routines? Is it because that that you are so addicted to the news media that you NEED to stay inside to “get your fix” on the latest “news” and pronouncements?

Well…

That’s all a lie. It’s a nice comfortable lie that sticks you all to the pre-birth world-line template like a fly stuck on fly-paper. If you all really want your dreams and wishes to manifest, you all will need to break off and out of that artificial environment that has entrapped you.

And this environment is complex. It involves many things…

Your habits, that prevent you from deviation off your world-line trajectory.
The “news” that constantly programs and reprograms your mind.
Your friends and associations that repeat the “news”.
The music you listen to and the movies you watch.

And these are the things that await you once you become self-actuated…

Pretty Girls

Whether you are in a relationship now or not, everyone deserves to have more friends. They add color and depth to our life. As well as maybe helping to point out the “door handles” that lie upon the “hallway of life”. Click to see the movie in a different tab.

And or , maybe someone like this…

Click on the picture (like the above) to see the movie in a different tab.

The thing about all this is that our universe is the most colorful, exciting and wonderful when we are interacting with others. With other people. Not with other things. So that illusion that you can conduct business from behind a computer monitor, or have a Zoom chat instead of a face-to-face meeting is pretty much a lie. Real people interact in time-honed interpersonal ways.

So self-actuate.

Go forth and interact with others.

And maybe you have “had it” with people! I am one person who absolutely understands. But what about our other friends, or pets; our dogs and cats in our lives. You know…. Like this…

Click to see the movie in a different tab.

Or maybe your life has become a little too predictable, too stale. Too boring. maybe you need to go to a KTV and liven things up. Maybe something like this… You know, more my speed. Heh. Heh.

(Taken outside one of the KTV rooms. Click to see the movie in a different tab.)

Or like this on the inside.

Here’s a chick singing Gee Gee Gee, LOL. Yeah. It’s all sort of like this.

Or perhaps you are not American, and your idea of social interaction and belonging is different. that is not a problem. No matter how you feel, and no matter how you express yourself, you all should do it and do it your way. Do things your way, and on your terms. Just do it.

Here’s from the Samoan Islands. Grand. Just Grand.

I do miss my friends there. I really do. There are some really fine, fine folk in American Samoa. I’ll tell you what.

I guess that the point that I am trying to make is that life is about experiencing the adventure of it. But by the nature of our consciousness and our reality, it is so very easy to get fixed and comfortable on a life-line vector that is fine and comfortable.

I think that the greatest amount of fun might happen when you do something different.

Not drastically different mind you, but different enough.

Like getting a pie and a cup of coffee in a diner or a local restaurant. Not a fast food “joint”.

It’s your life, and your choices. You choose. You flick the new “switches” and set your world-line vector to new directions and buckle up your seatbelt. Because the moment you start to deviate off of your comfort zone, you SLIDE to new realities, and then…

…it’s a new “ballgame”.

Do you want more?

I have more posts in my Happiness Index here…

Life & Happiness

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Love isn’t always fireworks—it’s showing up at 4:17 AM, in the cold, just to be a heartbeat beside someone

Today we start off with one of Quora writings…

Why are the oligarchs in the US military industrial complex so eager to start a war with China? Aren’t they generating enough profit from the Russia-Ukraine conflict already? 11 more answers

A long, long time ago… when I was a boy of 14 years old… I started my first job. I was a “tipple loader” at a coal mine in Western Pennsylvania. My job was to operate the rock crusher and then use the conveyor belt to load hopper-cars (a type of train car) with crushed coal.

Throughout the 1960s, the 70s, and well into the 1990s it was common for the older workers to harass and “break in” the new kid. And during my teen years, I sure as heck got the brunt of it all.

One of the things they would do is order me to “fetch a boom-hoist-clamp” which is just a simple clamp on a drag-line. Now, drag-lines are big enormous machines.

And so, being young and inexperienced, they would gleefully chuckle and laugh at how stupid I was as I would climb the boom to the top to get this fucking clamp.

Being so young, and ignorant, I really didn’t realize that I was risking my life…

…on a joke, for minimum wage. It never occurred to me. As this was my first experience to the harsh world of much older men who have lived the “hard life” in the hills of Western Pennsylvania. And so I endured the various initiations. And worked hard…

…until I was able to pull myself out of that environment and go to university to study aerospace engineering and leave that Hell-hole.

But…

Let’s get back to the question.

Why are the Oligarchs so easy to start a war with China?

Well, like myself as a young boy and my first experience with the harsh world of rough and scrabble men, I had no idea of what I was going up against. Neither do these oligarchs. They think in terms of what they know, and what they don’t know is something that NEVER crosses their mind.

They believe the funded lies about “Russia collapsing”, “Putin will be disposed any day now”, “Ukraine is winning”, ‘Russian military is a joke”…. and they most certainly believe the massive lies (oh, so much greater and so much more outrageous) concerning China…

China will collapse any day now.
The Chinese dictatorship cannot face the American military might.
China has no weapons able to compete or fight the mighty nations of Rambo soldiers.
China is weak, and helpless.

And so on and so forth.

And so, when I listen to these oligarchs speak, and their proxy figureheads talk to the “news” media, it’s like some kind of warped parody. The ignorance is staggering. And like myself, (as a young boy of 14) I had no idea that I was risking my life for something as trivial as the chuckles and cajoling of the elder men.

These idiots will draw the United States into a war with China, and the United States will lose. Sure as shit. It doesn’t matter if it is conventional, economic, or nuclear. The United States is on the fast-track to “suicide by cop”.

And that is what happens with you are ignorant, stupid, and egotistical and facing a lethal opponent that isn’t.

Today…

Unidentified Submarine Detected off New Jersey / New York City

Hal Turner Nation August 28, 2026

unidentified nuclear submarine detected off nj nyc large

An “unidentified” submarine has been detected in the Atlantic Ocean, about 60 to 80 miles off Sandy Hook, New Jersey and New York City.

US Northern Command anti-submarine warfare aircraft are searching the area.

Hal Turner Opinion

My personal bet: It’s a Russian nuclear submarine.

If they were detected, my next bet is because they WANTED to be detected.

I think it is likely Russia — “sending a message” — to the USA.

ITALIAN HEIST LOUNGE — 1960s Spy Jazz • Retro Chill • Night Drive Mix • Cinematic Smooth Ambience

Please enjoy this YT mix while reading today’s content.

ksnip 20251226 104245

Pictures

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5 Most Disturbing Cases You’ve Ever Heard | True Crime Documentary

Is an inside cabin on a cruise OK?

Here’s the advice of some friends who go twice a year.

They gave me an easy two-question quiz to help me decide.

Is it a party cruise?
Is it less than 5 days?

If your answer is “yes” to any of these two, book an inside room. You won’t be spending time in your room to begin with. It’s basecamp for your stuff and a bed to crash for the night.

A couple years ago, I went against their advice and booked an inside room on a Norwegian seven-day Alaskan cruise.

Man I was dreading it.

My thought was, “I’ll be in Alaska. This cruise is about staying indoors watching the outdoors. Why the hell would I book an inside room with no view?”

To save a pile of cash, that’s why.

And you know what?

I slept like a king. Rooms in Vegas didn’t get this dark. Without a phone, it was impossible to tell what time it was. I’d wake up early, feeling like a million bucks, go up the viewing lounge, grab a cup of hot coffee, then watch the sun rise over the mountains.

It was a cool way to watch the world come alive. Ended up being an awesome trip with no room regrets.

The point is, don’t overthink it. Book it, go have fun, and don’t forget your underwear.

15 Minute Taco Rice Skillet

be9bb11cfa2d7e3dbc9e230aca26d225

15 Minute Taco Rice Skillet is ready in just 15 minutes.

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

Taco Rice

1 pound ground beef
2 cups water
1 package taco seasoning
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 cups Minute Rice
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese

Toppings

Coarsely crushed tortilla chips
Shredded lettuce
Chopped tomato
Sour cream

Instructions

Brown meat in large skillet over medium-high heat; drain.
Add water, seasoning mix and pepper to skillet; stir. Bring to boil. Stir in rice.
Sprinkle with cheese, cover. Cook over low heat for 5 minutes.
Top as desired with ingredients above and enjoy!

Girlfriend Realizes She Accidentally Killed Her Boyfriend

Avraám & his Sons

Written in response to: “Set your story in a world where astrology and the movements of celestial bodies deeply impact the lives of inhabitants.“

A.J. Williams

Fiction Drama Science Fiction

Note: A.E. (After-Event) refers to the new dating system in-universe. In the year 2012, a massive solar flare hit the Earth, sending the human race back into the Dark Ages. A Second Dark Ages. City of Athens, Greek Union of Cities August 17^th, 2145 (133 A.E.)“Iakovos, please bring the feather and ink. Tonight’s sky is clear, and we need to begin documenting the stars,” ordered Avraám, the Star-Gazer of Athens, a respected role held in high regard by the Greek community.”Of course, Father,” replied his son. “The Council and the King require new celestial observations. They seek signs that the future will be prosperous.””Of course, my son,” acknowledged Avraám.”But Father! We were supposed to go down to the courthouse and serve on the jury! The Council insisted!” exclaimed his second son, Alexos, observing his father as he worked in his office. “We have a duty to fulfill our role in the jury!”

“The sky is clear tonight; the Council will understand why I won’t be there. You may go, Alexos, if you wish,” Avraám replied as he began preparing his telescope and equipment for a night of observation and recording. If the Gods were to convey a message, it would be on this night.

“Father! The Council specifically requested your presence because the trial…” Alexos hesitated.

“… is regarding the murder of a young girl, I understand. They believe I’m emotionally connected to this case due to your sister Angela’s death,” Avraám finished.

“Yes, Father. This young girl died in a similar manner, on the same night of the year, when the constellations aligned in a particular way,” Alexos explained.

All three men were clad in traditional post-Event robes, resembling attire suitable for jury duty.

“Father, if you fail to appear, you jeopardize your standing in the City. Positions as Star-Gazers are not guaranteed; don’t take unnecessary risks,” warned his youngest child.

“Attempting to persuade me will only prove futile,” Avraám retorted, turning his gaze toward his youngest child. “I am my own person; do not presume to dictate my actions.”

With a sack slung over his back, Avraám made his way to the office door and descended to the main level of their family home. His wife, a nurse, was often occupied with work; their relationship lacked romance, as he was consumed by his passion for astrology and the cosmos while she dedicated herself to medicine. Together, they had four children, but two were now deceased.

Today was no exception for Avraám’s wife, Sophia, who undoubtedly toiled diligently at the Athens Grand Hospital. The city was facing a shortage of nurses due to the recent outbreak of the Sickness, which had struck just a year prior.

The kitchen was in disarray, cluttered with dirty pots, pans, and plates left unattended in the washing area. Avraám surveyed the pile of dishes and chuckled to himself. “Seems us men aren’t adept at maintaining the cleanliness of a well-respected household.”

Moving on to the front room, the Star-Gazer recognized that he had a bustling night awaiting him. Clear nights were prized by the people of Athens, offering them a chance to observe the stars and constellations. They believed the Gods bestowed wisdom through the night sky, and the citizens held their deities in deep reverence.

His two sons trailed after him onto the front porch, where their flower pots flourished with blooms. Avraám settled onto the wooden bench, slipping on his slippers.

“Father, we strongly urge you to go to the courthouse. Do you truly wish to risk your position?” Alexos implored, scratching his beard. Avraám merely shook his head.

“Father, if we lose your wages, we may lose this home,” Iakovos interjected, joining his father on the bench. “Mother’s income alone is insufficient.”

“Even with both our incomes combined, it’s not enough to sustain us,” Alexos added, absently touching the flowers in the pots.

“There will be other clear nights, Father. But this court case holds great significance,” Iakovos persisted. “Missing it could jeopardize your position in the city.”

“Did the Council convey this to you?” Avraam inquired, fixing his gaze on his son.

“A Counsellor, yes. Indeed, Counsellor Iason Iordanou confided in me about it,” Iakovos confirmed.

“I see. Iason…” Avraam nodded thoughtfully. Rising from his seat, the elder man descended the steps of his porch, each slab adorned with an array of potted plants: herbs, peppers, and chamomile.

“Father, please, consider the consequences just this once! The stars can wait!” pleaded Iakovos.

“If the Gods impart a message tonight, and I’m absent, I’ll forfeit an opportunity to improve our city. If you wish to waste time on a court case, decided solely by a judge, then go ahead!” Avraám retorted firmly. With that, he strode down the path toward the Constellation Field.

As the Star-Gazer set up his telescope beneath the stars, a few passersby with their dogs strolled by. They waved to Avraám, and he returned the gesture. With determination, he began the meticulous process of documenting the stars, carrying the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

Avraám relished his moments outdoors, savoring each breath of the crisp air and the caress of the cool breeze against his skin, if the winds were blowing. He found solace in the symphony of insect sounds surrounding him. A part of him longed to live in the wild, untouched by rules or civilization, where humanity held no greater dominion than the common squirrel or toad. In that untamed realm, death would be an equal adversary, without the intervention of medicine or the influence of Gods. It would be just a man pitted against the forces of nature.

As the Star-Gazer gazed up into the starry sky, he identified familiar constellations: Cygnus, Aquila, Lyra, and Hercules. Each held a rich history, woven into the tapestry of storytelling that had been passed down through generations, rooted in the mythology of the ancient world. Avraám understood this connection and was well-versed in the history of Europe. He knew that not too long ago, the Greeks worshipped what the Council now deemed a false God—a false prophet, as they called Christianity.

Avraám endeavored to comprehend the Christian God, seeking to grasp why those in the West—across the British Isles, France, Spain, and Germany—continued to adhere to what he considered a false prophet. He pondered the reasons behind the enduring faith of these distant lands, curious about the beliefs and convictions that sustained them.

Peering through the telescope, Avraám observed the twinkling stars above. Many stars twinkled brightly, their shimmering lights suggesting to him that the souls of the countless victims claimed by the Sickness now traversed the celestial realm, journeying among the celestial bodies.

“Good. Good,” Avraám muttered, jotting down notes in his journal. His observations indicated to the Council that the departed souls might gaze upon the Earth with either resentment or apprehension.

“Or perhaps,” Avraám mused aloud, pausing to consider his words as he transcribed them into his journal, “these are the souls of our warriors, journeying across the sky toward a serene tranquility.”

As Avraám heard the sound of twigs and gravel crunching behind him, he turned to see his son Iakovos approaching, clad in his outdoor attire: a chiton and sandals.

“So, you’ve come to offer your guidance again? Where’s your brother?” Avraám inquired.

“He went to the courthouse. He’s upset with you,” Iakovos replied.

“Why are you here then? Why didn’t you go with him?” Avraám questioned further.

“I considered it, but in the end, I chose the stars. Courts don’t hold much interest for me anyway, and they specifically requested your presence; we came to show our support,” Iakovos explained.

“I see, I see. Come take a look… the souls of the departed are particularly active tonight,” the Star-Gazer remarked as his son peered through the telescope at the stars.

“This could bode well for the Council,” Iakovos remarked.

“I thought the same, although initially, I interpreted it as a sign of unrest among the deceased,” Avraám admitted.

“Because of the sickness?” Iakovos inquired.

Avraám nodded as Iakovos continued to study the sky. “Yes, that and the conflict with the Turks. We lost many to them.”

“Of course, but perhaps it indicates that those lost souls are finding peace,” Iakovos suggested.

“I certainly hope so, my son,” Avraám replied with a note of optimism.

“But the constellations seem particularly lively tonight, as if the spirits are active,” Iakovos observed.

Avraám noted this with a thin smile playing on his lips.

“Furthermore, Hercules appears to be clearer than on the last clear night. That’s a promising sign for the Council,” Iakovos added, prompting his father to jot it down.

“You have a keen eye for Star-Gazing, better than your brother,” Avraám remarked.

“I’ve noticed that too. Alexos has little interest in the cosmos and constellations. He’s more inclined toward bureaucracy,” Iakovos agreed, shifting his focus to the stars within the Hercules constellation.

“It’s not surprising. He’s always nagging me about something; reminds me of the Council,” Avraám chuckled, acknowledging the similarity.

“Indeed. He seems to magnify every problem and offer impractical solutions, but alas, I’ve grown accustomed to it,” Iakovos remarked.

Suddenly, he gasped. “A shooting star! That’s auspicious news for the Council! A sign of their approval!”

“Or perhaps a sign of their disapproval. Regardless, I’ll make note of it; evidently, the Gods intended for us to be here tonight! They bestow their blessings upon us,” Avraám replied, jotting down the observation in his journal. “Good. Good.”

“I do hope Alexos can charm the Council and secure your position in the city tonight,” Iakovos remarked, stepping away from the telescope and stretching his back.

“I’m confident he’ll manage. I trust him in that,” Avraám replied, continuing to jot down notes.

“I knew the girl. She resided in the nobles’ quarters, near where I pursued my studies in my youth. She was only fourteen,” Iakovos shared, his gaze drifting to the stars. “Angela was barely sixteen, not much older than this unfortunate girl.”

“Indeed, mortality is an inescapable aspect of our existence,” Avraám remarked, peering into the telescope before adjusting its position to observe another constellation. “If life were devoid of challenges, nothing would hold significance. Our ancestors seemed to have overlooked that, and the Gods delivered their reckoning.”

“Perhaps it was their divine judgment?” Iakovos pondered.

“It very well could have been,” Avraám agreed somberly. “Let’s not dwell on the past for the future could be written above.”

United in purpose, father and son labored together, striving to reassure the Council of a promising future. The citizens of Athens sought solace in the stars, finding comfort and relief from anxieties and tensions. Yet, amidst the celestial beauty, the stars also whispered tales of caution and disapproval, serving as reminders of the consequences of human actions.

Inside the Athens Courthouse, a bastion of law and discourse in the city, a bustling scene unfolded. Citizens, jury members, peacekeepers, lawyers, and a handful of judges filled the space, their murmurs blending into a soft hum. The main judge, distinguished by his grey chiton and headgear, commanded attention as he silenced the room with a glance. Despite his advanced age, he exuded an aura of wisdom from a bygone era, speaking in a deep, resonant voice that carried authority.

“Today, we convene to hear testimony and examine evidence regarding the murder of Ivana Dimitriou, a young woman of merely fourteen years. The accused is seventeen-year-old Leon Andreas, a former student of the victim’s father,” the main judge announced, his voice resounding through the courthouse. “First, I shall summon the witnesses to the crime, followed by the presentation of evidence.”

His words echoed throughout the chamber, reaching every corner. Among the jurors sat Alexos, his countenance stoic and impassive as stone.

As the witnesses delivered their testimonies, a somber atmosphere enveloped the courtroom. The family of the slain girl sat in subdued sorrow, their expressions reflecting the weight of their loss. Even the father, typically composed, appeared numb as he listened to the harrowing details of his daughter’s murder. grief weighed heavily upon them, casting a shadow over the proceedings.

As the evidence was presented, Alexos observed the room with a keen eye. A bloody knife and a note left behind by the killer were displayed, revealing a tale of tragic love turned deadly. The perpetrator, a lovesick young man, sought revenge after the girl rejected his affections. Alexos couldn’t help but view the boy as a coward, his actions driven by hurt feelings. Inwardly, Alexos felt a pang of familiarity with the pain of rejection, his heart heavy with empathy for the victim and her grieving family.

As the proceedings continued, Alexos sensed the judge’s gaze lingering on the jury stand. He knew that the judge was searching for Avraám, undoubtedly aware that the Star-Gazer had failed to appear. The absence of such a prominent figure would surely spark rumors: Did the Star-Gazer disregard the law? Was he losing his faculties?

Shaking his head to dispel these thoughts, Alexos refocused his attention on the case at hand, determined to fulfill his duty as a juror despite the distractions.

As the father of the victim addressed the courtroom, his voice resonated with solemnity. “In this courtroom, a relic from a time of relative peace among mankind, we gather to confront the tragedy of my daughter’s murder,” he began, his gaze drifting towards the heavens. “I seek solace in the stars and our Gods, but they whisper of unrest among the spirits. Perhaps it is due to the loss of my child, or the relentless grip of the Sickness plaguing our lands. Perhaps, it is the ongoing conflict with the Turks. They are displeased, and perhaps… they claimed my sweet girl as a punishment to us all.”

His words hung heavy in the air, stirring murmurs and whispers throughout the room. Shock and sorrow etched upon the faces of those who listened, grappling with the weight of his words and the magnitude of their implications.

As the final judgment was pronounced upon the killer, a heavy silence settled over the courtroom. Death by hanging—a punishment rarely meted out—was decreed, marking the severity of the crime. The judges, in solemn agreement, affirmed the final ruling.

The condemned boy, now facing his impending end, appeared unmoved by the verdict. No tears streamed down his face and there was no sympathy to be found among those present. The gravity of his actions and the weight of the sentence rendered any pity futile.

As the condemned boy faced his fate, Alexos remained resolute, his heart hardened by the memory of his own sister’s murder long ago.

As Avraám and his second-youngest son made their way home, the darkness of night enveloped them, the flickering flames of the streetlamps casting long shadows. Despite the lateness of the hour, a sense of tranquility settled over the Star-Gazer, a calm assurance born from the knowledge that one of his sons would carry on his work after he retired. With each step, he found solace in the realization that his legacy would endure, and that the guidance of the Gods, though revered, would not be sorely missed in the hands of his successors.

“You know, Father, one day, you and Mother will need to take a rest,” Iakovos remarked, his voice carrying a hint of concern. “And as you’re aware, I’ve been courting a woman my age—a noblewoman, a socialite.”

“Good money then?” Avraám inquired, turning to his son as they walked along the stone path.

“She comes from wealth, yes,” Iakovos confirmed. “I’ve been thinking… I could succeed you as Star-Gazer. I’ve studied the cosmos extensively, and with the wage I’d earn and the connections from her family’s wealth, we could ensure that you and Mother have a comfortable retirement in this house. Besides, Alexos has his own ambitions, and he’ll likely forge his own path soon enough. The future could be bright.”

“If the Gods allow it,” Avraám replied, his tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “If the Gods allow it.”

As they approached their home, Avraám and Iakovos noticed Alexos sitting on the front porch, his eyes swollen and damp with tears. Concern etched upon their faces, they approached him.

“Why are you crying, Alexos?” Avraám inquired gently. “Has something happened?”

“I just… I miss Angela and Roberto,” Alexos confessed, his voice wavering.

“I miss them too, son,” Avraám replied, his own voice tinged with sadness as he placed a comforting hand on Alexos’ shoulder. “I miss them every day. But time moves forward, and so must we. The Gods, in their wisdom, will look down upon us and understand. Hopefully, they will grant us peace, knowing that their souls wander above, seeking their sanctuary.”

With heavy hearts, Avraám and his sons crossed the threshold into their home, leaving behind the weight of the night’s observations and the lingering echoes of a tragic murder. Though the events of the day would undoubtedly haunt them for some time to come, they understood that life must press forward, much like the steady march of the stars across the night sky. As they settled into their home, they found solace in the knowledge that time, relentless and unforgiving, would continue its inexorable journey onward.

A “leaked secret report”

Ha ha ha ha.

Real secrets are never leaked.

This is from an anti-China hawk.

I want to do a deep dive into the New York Times’ recent leak of the top secret Pentagon report called the “Overmatch Brief”. There’s been a ton of misreporting and lack of real analysis. So I’m here to fix it.

—

Here’s the original article from the NYT, it’s paywalled:

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2025/12/08/opinion/us-china-taiwan-military.html

Key points about the report that are being misreported:

The report itself has not been leaked. The NYT simply has an insider who has leaked the details of the report. We also do not know who the leaker is.
No one at the Pentagon has disputed the veracity of the report, which proves its authenticity.
The report is annually updated since 2014/15, the same year that Obama started his “pivot to Asia”.
The details published by the NYT refer to the 2025 edition of the report. There was some confusion since they talk about the reactions to the report from a Biden official in 2021.

—

Here’s the TLDR summary of the leaked details:

Loss of U.S. overmatch: The U.S. no longer holds decisive military superiority. In war games and simulations, American forces often lose, with China able to counter or overwhelm U.S. advantages through built-in redundancies (“every trick we had up our sleeve, the Chinese had redundancy after redundancy”).

Vulnerability of high-value assets: Expensive U.S. platforms like aircraft carriers (e.g., the Ford-class), fifth-generation fighter planes, and satellites are highly susceptible to destruction. China could sink or disable them using hypersonic missiles (with an arsenal of around 600, which are hard to intercept), quiet diesel-electric submarines, drone swarms, and other advanced, mass-produced weapons before they effectively engage.

Shift in warfare dynamics: Modern conflicts favor cheap, technologically advanced, rapidly producible weapons over traditional “hulking” expensive equipment. Small robotic systems and hypersonics are transforming the battlefield, exposing U.S. reliance on vulnerable, high-cost systems.

Supply chain and munitions shortages: The U.S. has critical choke points in its supply chains and would quickly deplete essential munitions in a protracted war (e.g., high-altitude missile interceptors or precision-guided weapons).

Overall assessment: The findings are described as “consistent and disturbing,” highlighting a decades-long decline in America’s ability to win a long war against a major peer power like China. This has alarmed officials across administrations, with urgent calls for military reinvention to restore deterrence.

Chinese stealth naval bomber drones like the CH-7 are a threat against which the US Navy has basically no counter against. These attritable stealth drones can fly super close to surface targets before releasing their payload, giving the target almost no time to respond.

THIS REPORT IS NOT A GRIFT

“Leaked” reports on Pentagon wargames where China beats the US in Taiwan have been around since 2018. I’ve written about these reports myself quite a bit. The TLDR is that since about 2018, the Pentagon has lost every single internal wargame against the PLA in a Taiwan Strait war.

The copium from Amerifats has always been:

“The US is meant to lose those wargames! That’s the whole point of wargames!”
“Those wargames are just meant to justify more funding to the Pentagon!”

The first bit of copium is easy to refute. If the US is supposed to always lose wargames, then why was it winning them before 2018? And where are all the wargames that the US loses against other countries like Russia? The only other case of US losing wargames was during the Millennium Challenge which was simulating an invasion of Iran from the early 2000s.

The second bit of copium is a little more difficult to refute.

The truth is, the Pentagon often does play up foreign military threats in order to justify increased defense spending. The problem with this argument is that the reason for the US losing its wargames in Taiwan has little to do with insufficient funding. The conclusion of the wargames is never that the Pentagon needs more aircraft carriers or F-35s. Instead, the recommendation has always been that the US military needs to fundamentally rethink its strategy.

This Overmatch Brief is the clearest refutation of the “Pentagon is doing it for money” copium.

The recommendation from the report is for fewer big ticket assets like aircraft carriers and expensive warplanes. The report is saying that these traditional assets don’t stand a chance against China’s drone fleets. Anyone who is paying attention to the war in Ukraine (both on land and in the Black Sea) can easily understand this. Ukraine’s drones are either from China or made with nearly all Chinese components. There are almost no American or European drones being used in Ukraine. That fact alone should be a massive fvcking wakeup call.

The folks at Lockheed and Boeing are not benefiting from the Overmatch Brief. Palantir, Anduril and other drone companies are, but these companies have far less political power than the traditional big boys. They were not the driving force behind this report, even if they do benefit from it.

And even these American military drone companies aren’t really fitting the bill with what the report is suggesting. Anduril’s drones are still focused on quality over quantity. There’s no major American company that is trying to match DJI in terms of production efficiency and drone swarm technology, and it’s doubtful if any ever could.

Anduril’s YFQ-44 Fury ‘Fighter’ Drone Has Flown (Updated)

US drone companies like Anduril are military-only, meaning that their drones are crazy expensive and inefficient to produce at scale. Only a commercial plus military drone company can maintain the productive capacity needed during peacetime. The only other alternative is a wholly state-owned factory, which is how the PLA procures its drones.

TRUMP KNOWS

The veracity and impact of the report and similar findings is impossible to refute.

As I discussed previously, even before becoming the “Secretary of War”, Pete Hegseth was surprisingly clear-eyed about the PLA’s overwhelming advantages over the US in any war over Taiwan. In Nov 2024, he stated that the PLA could “sink any US carrier in the region in 20 minutes”, and this before he got access to classified Pentagon reports. Now that Hegseth can see all the classified details of the wargames against China, he should have no more doubts about the US’ chances.

Hegseth also has Trump’s ear. Trump seems to genuinely like and respect Hegseth. Trump could have appointed plenty of other people to the post and made a lot more money from it, but he chose Hegseth instead. So there’s no doubt that Hegseth has read Trump in on the situation over Taiwan.

This would explain why Trump has been so much less confrontational on Taiwan than back in his first term. He still hasn’t met with or even spoken to Taiwan’s President Lai, a stark contrast to 2017 when he called then President Tsai to congratulate her on her victory.

Moreover, not a single prominent Republican member of Congress or the White House has visited Taiwan, in contrast to Pelosi’s visit in 2022. And when President Lai tried to visit the US, he was twice rejected.

And now with the Sino-Japanese diplomatic debacle heating up, Trump has yet to lend any support to Japan, despite repeated requests from the Japanese ambassador for some kind of rhetorical support from the White House.

Taiwan says President Lai not blocked from US stopover

Weapons’ grade copium from Taipei: “We’re not ‘blocked’ from seeing Trump, no… he just… is busy… with his… uh… other friends. I’m sure he will return our calls soon!”

https://www.dailyexcelsior.com/japan-asks-us-authorities-for-public-support-amid-rift-with-china-over-taiwan/

Despite desperate pleas from Tokyo for support on Taiwan, the Trump regime has thus far been silent on the issue. Ah the US, ever the reliable “ally”.

—

THE AMERICANS HAVE SENSED THE TRAP AND WON’T TAKE THE BAIT

Honestly speaking, the Americans lucked out.

Most declining empires end up fighting desperate “Thucydides Trap” wars against the rising power and losing. The US has the fortune of facing a rising power that is so passive in its foreign policy as to allow the declining power to gracefully bow out of any potential “Thucydides Trap” wars. The US Empire can’t be humiliated by the PLA if it never fights the PLA.

The future of American power in the Pacific is becoming increasingly clear.

Taiwan will fall. Likely it will be a bloodless surrender at the first sign of PLA invasion/blockade.
All US bases will remain intact on the Pacific Rim. Without a Taiwan Strait war, China would never have an excuse to strike out at these bases.
All American “allies” in the Pacific will also continue to side with the US, hampering Chinese influence in its own Asian backyard.

In other words, China’s victory in reunifying with Taiwan will largely be a hollow one. The PLA will never have the opportunity to demonstrate its prowess, and so die-hard Ameriboos in Japan, South Korea and the Philippines will continue to preach about the invincibility of the US Navy.

Fundamentally, nothing will change. The house of cards that is American Empire will persist for decades to come simply because China missed its golden opportunity to knock it down.

Even without Taiwan, the US still has total dominance over the Western Pacific. Beijing had a golden opportunity to wipe out the American presence entirely by drawing the Americans into an unwinnable war over Taiwan, but it has since squandered it. Washington has sensed the trap, and won’t take the bait.

Col 28 -Book 495 – Sir Whiskerton and the 4:17 AM Tractor (A Tale of Cold Metal, Warmth, and the Language of Routine)

Ah, dear reader—prepare your heart. Today’s story does not begin with a quack, a snort, or even a kazoo blast.
It begins with a click.
The sharp, metallic snap of a glove on a frost-stiffened hand.
Then—the long exhale of breath in the dark.

So settle in. Breathe deep. And step—gently, lovingly—into Sir Whiskerton and the 4:17 AM Tractor.

The Ritual of the Turning Key

It was a Thursday in deepest winter—stars sharp as glass, air so cold it crackled with each breath.

The Farmer rose before dawn, as he always did.
Boots by the door.
Thermos in hand.
Scarf wound twice, tight against the wind.

He walked to the barn—not with haste, but with the quiet resolve of a man who knows:
some things must be done.
Not for glory.
Not for thanks.
But because the world keeps turning—and the engine must not seize.

At 4:17 AM, he climbed into the tractor’s cab.
Gloved hand on the key.
Click.
Chug-chug…
Cough.
Silence.

The battery—old, weary, frozen—gave one final sigh… and died.

He sat.
Head in hands.
Shoulders bowed under the weight of a thousand mornings just like this.

No sigh.
No curse.
Just the slow, steady drip of fatigue—accumulated like snow on a roof.

The Warmth That Arrived Without Announcement

Then—a soft thump.

Sir Whiskerton leapt onto the seat beside him—not with flourish, but with purpose.
He didn’t nudge.
Didn’t meow.
He simply curled into the curve of the Farmer’s arm—a warm, solid weight against the cold.

And he began to purr.

Not the drowsy rumble of a sunbeam nap.
Not the polite thrum of companionship.
This was deeper.
Resonant.
A vibration that thrummed through the metal frame, up the Farmer’s bones, into the very core of his tired heart.

It wasn’t sound.
It was presence.
A living metronome—steady, sure, saying: I am here. You are not alone.

Outside, the wind howled.
Inside, the cab grew warm—not from the engine, but from something far older:
belonging.

The Sunrise and the Start

They waited.

Ditto appeared at the barn door—curled small, watching, learning the most important lesson of all: sometimes, love is just sitting in the dark with someone.
Bessie’s mood ring glowed soft gold from the hayloft—“The vibes are… sacred.”
Even the scarecrow creaked—once, gently—as if in benediction.

At 4:34 AM, the horizon bled gold.
The first ray of sun struck the tractor’s rusted hood—a spark, a signal.

The engine turned over.
Chug… chug-chug… RRRRRRRRROOOOOM.

The Farmer placed his hand on the gearshift.
Sir Whiskerton didn’t move.
He stayed—purring, warm, steady—in the Farmer’s lap.

And together, they plowed the first furrow of the day.

The Moral of the Story

That evening, as fireflies rose and the farm hummed in C-sharp, Sir Whiskerton addressed the animals—not from the roof, but from the tractor seat, now dusted with dried mud and sunbeams.

“The moral of the story, dear reader, is this:
Love isn’t always fireworks—it’s showing up at 4:17 AM, in the cold, just to be a heartbeat beside someone’s.
The Farmer doesn’t need a hero. He doesn’t need a speech. He needs a witness. A warmth. A purr that says: I see you. I’m with you. Your silence is safe here.
So go ahead. Show up. Sit in the dark. Hold the space.
The world will keep turning.
And sometimes—just sometimes—the engine will start again.”

Doris dabbed her eyes.

“A mechanical metaphor! I can’t bear it!”
“Bear it! Bear it!”

And the Farmer?
He reached into his coat pocket—and pulled out a second thermos.
He poured a saucer of warm milk, placed it beside the cab, and whispered:

“For the mechanic.”

Sir Whiskerton blinked—once, slow, deep—and settled in for the next sunrise.

Post-Credit Scene

Later, Chef Remy unveiled his newest invention:

“Dawn Patrol Muffins™”
(“Guaranteed to warm the soul—or cause interpretive sunrise appreciation.”)

Mr. Ducky bought the rights:

“Now with 200% more quiet devotion!”

And on the tractor’s dashboard—now a shrine of sorts—
a small, hand-stitched cushion:

“For the Mechanic (Seat Reserved).”
(Stitched in Ditto’s careful thread: “—D.D.”)

Outside—the stars twinkled.
The wind hummed.
And somewhere, faint on the breeze—

Purr… chug…* dawn *… love.

Jingle on. 🌅🚜🐾
(Or, in farm-ese: Click… purr… start … home.)

The End.

Wife Let Her Siblings Freeload Off Her Generous Husband, Has PANIC ATTACK When He Walks Out

A Silent Night at Last

Written in response to: “People have gathered to witness a once-in-a-lifetime natural phenomenon, but what happens next is not what they expected.“

Michelle Oliver

Funny Fiction

Knock, knockHello, are you awake? May I come in?Yes, sorry, shhh…I know. I’ll speak quietly. I promise I won’t wake the baby. He’s a tiny thing, isn’t he?I, um, well, I traveled a long way to be here. I’m glad I didn’t miss it. The star, you know. It gave it away. Been watching that star now for weeks, since it appeared in the east. Well, OK, Melchior has. He hogs the telescope, but you know it’s so bright now we don’t need to use a telescope anymore, so I’ve been watching it every night.Oh, here, this is for you. I know, I know, it’s not much, but everyone always gets stuff for the baby. No one ever thinks about the mother. Sorry, it’s only cheap perfume, not that frankincense that Caspar is so fond of. I think that stuff stinks. I hope you like this one, it’s jasmine.I must say, this is not what I expected. You know, with all the celestial signs and everything, I kind of expected a fancy maternity ward in some high-brow Lindo Wing. Or even a nice hotel. I can’t say I ever expected to see you in a stable, not even a crib for a bed. I probably should have brought blankets. I would have, if I’d known. But the stars said a king was going to be born, and I’ve never known them to be wrong. Well, Balthazar has never been wrong. He’s the one who reads them in the paper each morning. Flicks straight to the Astrology page. Now bub here, he’d be a Capricorn. Bit stubborn and strong headed, but he’s going to be practical, reliable, serious and trustworthy. All good traits to have in a future king.Oh, speaking of Balthazar, would you mind not telling him that I was here? I’m not supposed to come, you see. When we set out a few weeks back, we had decided to all come along, leave the astronomy lab unattended for a while—it’s not like anyone listens to our predictions, anyway. And as this is a once in a lifetime, once in a millennium, or really a once in an eternity kind of event, none of us wanted to be left out.Along the way, we crossed paths with some travelling minstrels. You know the type, merry gentlemen, (bless them,) all song and dance, no real plans for the future, fly by the seat of your pants kind of guys. Well, we told them about our journey and they seemed pretty interested. They drank lots of wine, played lots of music and danced like wild things. They even made up a song. Old Balthazar, he got quite excited. It was the first time someone ever sang a song about us, actually the song was only about three of us. You see, they said the lyrics don’t fit so well for four. “We Four Kings of Orient are…” yeah not quite as good a ring to it, hey? So the boys and me, we cast lots to see who would miss out, and you guessed it. It was me. I got booted from the caravan. Had to walk the entire way here.The minstrels said they’d like to pop in for a visit, you know, sing a song, bang a drum, par rum pa pum-pum and all that. If I were you, I’d head out of here as soon as you can. They’re a noisy bunch, will like as not wake the baby. They didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry though. Might take them a few hundred years to get here, so you probably don’t need to rush.

I say, it’s kind of noisy here for a little one. Hey Angels, do you think you can tone down some of that Gloria-ing and Hosanna in excelsis deo-ing? The baby’s sleeping and mum looks like she could do with a bit of hush-hush. Here, love, you get a bit of shut-eye while you can. When my sister had her first, she was exhausted. Get some sleep while the baby sleeps, you know, otherwise you’ll be burnt out. I’ll just watch him a bit while you nap. I see dad is catching some Z’s. Must have pulled an all nighter with you, poor guy. Looks shattered.

These cattle keep lowing—never knew what that sound was—but yeah, it’s a nicer sound than mooing, don’t you think? Oh, look bub’s awake, sorry. I didn’t speak too loud now, did I? He’s not crying, though, a pretty content little fella. Can I hold him, rock him a bit for you?

Knock knock

Hello, welcome, come in. Guess what, Bub, we’ve got more company. Hey, shepherds, can you keep it down? The momma’s getting a little shut-eye, been a long time here in Bethlehem, and she’s pretty much done in, poor thing. Have a look, isn’t he just the cutest little bundle? I think he has his father’s chin, well, dad’s down for the count, but you can kind of see his strong jaw beneath that beard. Bub is probably going to have quite a prominent chin too.

So you guys travelled here because of the star too? It’s pretty spectacular, isn’t it? Like a neon sign in the sky, flashing and crying out, look here! And the angels? I suppose you heard them on high? You can’t miss them, can you? A pretty unique kind of birth announcement, but I suppose, the birth of the King of Kings can afford to be a bit more dramatic and flashy than us ordinary folk.

Knock knock

Oh, hi! Look everyone, it’s Melchior, Balthazar, and Caspar. What took you guys so long? I can’t believe I got here first. I was on foot and you took all the camels. Did you get stopped by another travelling band of minstrels? Have a few drinks? Oh, you stopped to buy gifts; I see.

Gold? Really Melchior, you don’t think you could have at least bought a gift card and put it in an envelope? I suppose this way, they can spend it wherever ever they want, but it does seem like a lack of thought went into your gift.

Myrrh, it’s at least practical, Balthazar, but perhaps ointment for nappy rash would be easier for them to use.

Of course you brought frankincense, Caspar. No, don’t light it, there’s not enough room here and the smell, you know, it’s quite pungent, although I suppose it couldn’t smell worse than the sheep.

Well, it seems we’ve all come from near and far to witness this special event. The star has led us all here, and it won’t stop shining. It’s a bit hard for the poor mum and dad to sleep with all this light and all the visitors. Perhaps we might need to get going and let this little family rest. What do you say? Yeah, come on, you can kneel by the crib and say goodbye, one at a time.

Ok, off you go, thanks for coming, I’ll pass your love on to the momma and dad, when they wake. Safe travels.

Ahh, that’s it, they’ve all gone. Peace and quiet, thank the Lord. A silent night at last.

Baby Beef Liver Casserole

Ingredients

1 pound sliced bacon
1 pound baby beef liver, cut into bite size pieces
1 large can stewed tomatoes, chopped (save juice)
1 large onion, sliced
Dash of granulated sugar
Dash of oregano

Instructions

Fry bacon. Remove from pan and drain.
Fry onion in bacon grease.
Place liver in large casserole dish.
Add bacon and onion.
Add tomatoes, including juice.
Add oregano and sugar.
Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes, stirring once or twice.

Military Raids Sailors Paychecks to Pay For Combat Operations!

Hal Turner Nation August 28, 2026

Trump’s war on Iran has forced the US Navy to take money directly from its own sailors’ paychecks and other sources to cover the costs of combat operations, per The Guardian Newspaper citing new internal Pentagon documents.

“They’re fucked. They shot all their weapons; they trashed all their ships; they ran out of their money,” a former US military officer now working for a Navy contracting company says.

A Pentagon memo directly warns of “shortfalls in payroll” accounts due to the Department of War “raiding” them to fund combat operations, with a Navy official saying “the money for payroll was robbed to pay for overseas contingencies.” Non-emergency maintenance has already been postponed.

“The piggy bank is broken,” Retired naval officer Harlan Ullman says.

The war has depleted US munitions, wrecked Middle Eastern US bases, and left a $67 billion Iran war emergency funding request currently stalled in Congress. The US Navy’s $300 billion annual budget did not account for the Iran war.

The Files Are Out And They’re REALLY Bad

An hour ago in my dream, that one MM publish an alert. Maybe that's important, or maybe just no sense.…

I am certain that this was the meddling of the Old Empire fucks that are retaliating against China for all…

That the "powers-that-be" have succumbed to believing their own propaganda is the only explanation that makes any sense to me.…

That's a tragedy, certainly. It's also an anomaly. A glacier wall "failed" according to MM news: same story, same images,…

I'm working on translation. Last time I felt it would become 32 sections, but not clear. I don't know will…

Memories…

So why is this important?

So what defines a pie?

Pies around the world

Hieroglyphic pie recipes

Pies for all of history

History and Pies

Pies get medieval

Breaking out of the pie shell

The queen always tries first

Pies travel the Atlantic

The rise of sweet pies

The criticism of pies

The alternating popularity of pie

Pies endure

And why this matters…

Pretty Girls

Do you want more?

Articles & Links

Is an inside cabin on a cruise OK?

A “leaked secret report”

Col 28 -Book 495 – Sir Whiskerton and the 4:17 AM Tractor (A Tale of Cold Metal, Warmth, and the Language of Routine)

The Ritual of the Turning Key

The Warmth That Arrived Without Announcement

The Sunrise and the Start

The Moral of the Story

Post-Credit Scene

Baby Beef Liver Casserole

Ingredients

Instructions

Military Raids Sailors Paychecks to Pay For Combat Operations!

The Files Are Out And They’re *REALLY* Bad

The Files Are Out And They’re REALLY Bad