According to Chinese economists and strategies. Here is what they have observed during the cold war. In order to gain those so called allies, the US gave out a huge amount of aid to western Europe, known as the marshall plan. In order to compete with America, the USSR offered something similar to eastern Europe but only half as impressive. In the Soviet camp, eastern Europe weren’t happy became they got less aid and poorer than their neighbors. Russia itself wasn’t happy because it kept giving out aid, and cheap oils, resulted in huge internal debt. And finally their people couldn’t take it, and dissolved the USSR. The only ones that were happy at the time, were Vietnam, NK, and maybe India.

The USA wasn’t in a better position, they had lost all their traditional industries to Japan and western Europe. If it wasn’t for the new industries they invented, the USA would be done in the 90s, losing to Japan and Europe. So stop saying that China had stolen jobs from the America, the US had lost those jobs a long time ago. The cold war was a death race, the US is still hurting from it.

What was China’s conclusion? Only inclusive naturally developed trade relationship can benefit both sides. In other words, China aren’t going to pay for allies, that’s prostitution. So, how does China deal with the gigantic alliance structure of the US? Let me use Australia as an example, China Australia trade is almost 350B per year. In order for Australia to side with the US completely(not just verbally) against China, the US would have to compensate for their lost. So, China not only benefited from the trade with Australia, but also increase the cost for the US to maintain their alliance structure. That’s why you saw the US can only afford to pay country like the Philippines to confront China. China doesn’t pay any country to side with it political and militarily, it wants the US to pay more maintaining their alliances.

The US can’t even relocate TSMC from Taiwan back to the US and create some high quality jobs, because if they do that, Taiwan’s only economic relationship with the US would be gone.

I grew up in rural areas. I learned to shoot when I was 7. I then went to college, and met my wife who lived in a nearby town with her parents while attending college. I have always been the type who doesn’t make much bravado out of being able to defend myself. I don’t really want to hurt anybody, but I will hurt anybody who threatens my family.

My in-laws managed to check nearly every one of Jeff Foxworthy’s you might be a redneck. Somehow in a town of 30,000 they lived off the pavement and down a dirt road. Father-in-laws camper shell had more curtains than their home.

My future in-laws got it into their heads I was a soft college boy. It might be because I always dressed up to pick up their daughter for dates. It might be because at 6′2″ and 240 lbs much of it muscle at the time, I was cautious with my strength. It might be because I didn’t drink or cuss. Never mind I had relatives on my Mom’s side almost just like them, grew up in the country, shot coyotes attacking livestock, bucked hay, worked on ranches, worked in a feed store, and worked in a lumber mill.

After my future father-in-law said if he saw me around again I better be able to outrun buckshot, we eloped. This led to about a few months of drunken threatening messages left on our answering machine.

Eventually two things thawed the relationship a bit. One was my mother-in-laws gambling addiction, and need a babysitter. My wife’s over a decade younger sibling couldn’t be left alone without making a disaster when mother-in-law went gambling. The other was learning we were expecting their first grandchild.

My Father-in-law decided I need to learn how to shoot to protect his future grandchild. He asked if I had ever shot a firearm. My answer was, “Some” and didn’t elaborate. He had me drive his truck (had he driven he would probably have got a DUI) out to BLM land. He took the 6 cans he had finished off and lined them up on Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land, and handed me a handgun. I forget exactly what it was but it was a very small pistol and I forget what it was chambered in. It wasn’t .22 LR, but might have been .25 ACP. This was in 1994. I shot the first 4 cans no problem. When I shot the 5th can it knocked over the 6th can so the top was facing us. I shot it, and he immediately said I missed one. I said I didn’t think so. He picked it up and I had shot it through the opening in the top of the can. I could not have hit there if I had tried, but it still impressed him. (A firearm I had never fired before, with unknown ammunition, tiny pocket pistol, at about 20 feet/6 meters).

Later that evening he was drunk came at me swinging. I put him in a bear hug, told him I didn’t want to hurt him, and placed him on the lawn. He got back up swinging. I did the same thing again except instead of setting him down I tossed him a few feet onto the lawn. The next day he said, “I guess you can protect my daughter and grandchild.”

Utterly divided.

A person doesn’t have to have a degree in politics to see how divided and tribalistic America has become recently. I honestly don’t think we’ve been this separate as a country since the Civil War.

People have fallen for the “if you’re not 100% for us, then you’re 100% against us” mentality. You can see this on either side of the aisle. To be clear, I’m not demonizing either major American political party here. I’m condemning them. There’s this one quote from a fella you might know about by the name of Abraham Lincoln: “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” While Lincoln was referring to slave states versus free states, I am using his quote to refer to Republicans versus Democrats.

With division, comes bloodshed. We’ve seen it with slavery vs. freedom, Christian vs. Muslim, Protestant vs. Catholic, Communist vs. Capitalist, white vs. black, and I think that soon we’ll start to see Democrat vs. Republican.

A broken-down mess.

A perhaps once great nation struggling with a dysfunctional political system: only two significant parties, completely reliant on the availability of big bucks (with inevitable consequences, bearing in mind where those bucks come from) and which has slipped into the new Post-truth era with hardly a squeak of protest. (Certainly there have been more than murmurings of dissent among intellectuals and some journalists, but no groundswell of disgust or mass revolt.)

Also a country that likes to hide its woes. It likes to be seen as the wealthiest in the world, as the ‘land of opportunity’ – and yet forty percent of households could not meet an unexpected bill of $400 without having to sell something or borrow.

To those who complacently trot out platitudes like ‘it’s the greatest country in the world’, I’d say, first ‘open your eyes!’ and second: ‘if you want it to be, do something to make it so…’

In many ways there are echoes of this in my own stricken country, the UK, which also has a dysfunctional democracy and too many who want to live on past glories (real or imagined) and put their faith in a lying bunch of shysters who they imagine will lead them back to those halcyon days. (The pro-Brexit rhetoric really did include references to ‘sunlit uplands’, crudely parodying one of Churchill’s wartime speeches. ) They have a rude awakening in store. Those of us who don’t share the dream are already all too aware of the grim reality – actual and pending.

This is a story that, until now, I have only told a handful of people. And I have been typing it with tears in my eyes all the way through.

It happened six and a half year ago. I just turned 21 at the time and was in my second year of college. My mother had battled breast cancer for a short eight months when the doctor told us there was nothing left they could do. She would die, too young, after an eventful life.

About three weeks after hearing this, and approximately two weeks before she would eventually die, we were sitting in her hospital room talking about life and everything that had happened. It was here, quite unannounced and rather casually, that she made a statement which I still repeat to myself at least once a week. That statement got me through the first years of mourning; I clung onto it. I still often repeat it to friends and family around me when they are facing adversity. You could say it has become my life motto.

The context of this statement goes back to before my mother was even born in 1949, in the Netherlands. My grandparents had three kids: two sons and a daughter. My grandfather was a pastor and, also considering it was early post-war time, they were just getting by. My grandmother was a dominant and strict woman, and she laid down the law at home. As the family was barely getting by with three children and didn’t want any more, my grandmother decided to get sterilized. The doctor provided her with a hormone treatment; however, instead of becoming sterile, the treatment caused my grandmother to become extremely fertile. She soon became pregnant and gave birth nine months later to triplets, a boy and two girls — my mother was born. During my mother’s youth, my grandmother made no secret of the fact that my mother was an unwanted child. My mother obviously felt left out by my grandmother and grandfather, who let it all happen. My mother left her parents’ house still a teenager.

In the years to come, my mother started making a living for herself as a caretaker for elderly and disabled people. Still struggling with her ‘unfair’ youth, she did maintain a very good relationship with her older brothers and sister. In her late 20s, she met my father. They started dating and eventually got married. My mother desperately wanted to have children and create a happy family, so they started trying. It took a lot of time, and two failed pregnancies, but eventually she did get pregnant with my older sister. She was soon told the baby had a severe form of Cystic Fibrosis (CF), a genetic disorder, which meant she would die a young age. After a long time of trying, and failing, to become pregnant, this was a major shock for both my parents. My sister was in the hospital for the entire first year of her life and had to spend several weeks each year in the hospital for treatment. Taking care of a young child is hard for young parents, but this is especially the case when the young child is chronically ill and needs multiple treatments a day. My parents put their teeth in it and got by and, eventually, even started trying to get pregnant again. And they did! But then the heartbreaking message came: this baby had a severe form of CF, too. Raising two children with severe forms of CF would inevitably mean that one of the two would have to witness the other become weaker and weaker, until death followed, knowing that he/she too will one day become that weak and die at a too-young age. My parents dreaded this future and took the hardest decision of their lives: to have an abortion, to protect both children from the added psychological drama. Not long after this, my parents decided to adopt a child, a girl with little opportunity in her own country, Poland, as she was an orphan with a mental disability. However joyful this appeared at the start, the mental disability proved too severe for the girl to be raised in a regular home, and she was taken away within a year.

And then I was born. Healthy. It wasn’t a particularly easy birth; I was quite big and heavy, causing my birth almost to take my mother’s life, but eventually everyone was fine. A little less than three years later, my younger brother was born, also healthy as could be. My mother finally had her happy little family as she had always wanted, and as she had tried for so long. I believe those were some of the happiest moments of her life.

But of course, my sister was still chronically ill. She would be in and out of the hospital each year, which mostly was only for a few days or weeks, until one year it became really bad. My sister had already been in the hospital for many weeks, longer than usual, when she was allowed a week of ‘holiday’ in France. She was so excited to go, but only a few days after her arrival she became extremely ill, vomiting blood in her bed. She was taken to the local hospital and eventually flown by helicopter to the hospital in Bordeaux. It turned out her organs had started to fail and she needed a new liver to survive. She was flown to the Netherlands and put on a waiting list for a transplant. However, this took too long and my sister soon became weaker. She died in the hospital at age 13.

Remember how as a young child your parents seemed like superheroes? The strongest people in the world, who could take on anything?

I remember this moment as the first time I saw my parents absolutely broken. I remember that at the funeral my mother could hardly stand on her feet, and people had to support her as she kept collapsing in tears. She was devastated. In the period that followed, things did not get easier for my mother. Her older sister, with whom she had a very good relationship, died of breast cancer following a short sickbed. Not much later, her oldest brother died of the consequences of being an alcoholic. Following, her brother from the triplets was left by his wife, and shortly thereafter died from a heart attack, also as a consequence of his alcohol abuse. The aftermath of the death of so many loved ones was a number of family arguments over whose fault it was that her brothers became alcoholics, and how the inheritance should be divided. The adversity seemed to never stop.

But then it did. Some five happy, carefree years followed. I saw my mother become happier and happier. She started to work again, which she had stopped during my sister’s illness, and she enjoyed it. She was active in the church community in our town, she enjoyed tennis, and she had a lot of friends. It all seemed to turn for the better. But then…

Cancer.

Unlike what you might think, we went into this really positively. You know why? Because we believed we, and especially my mother, had already received our portion of adversity. This would be our time, we were going to conquer this disease. We even organized a big party when my mother was halfway through her chemotherapy because we were halfway to beating this disease! The tumor became smaller, there seemed to be no metastases, and operations were successful. We were almost there!

But, unfortunately, I would not be typing this post if that was how the story ended.

I received a call from my dad, early December. My mother was rushed to the hospital that night after falling in the kitchen. They had found a brain tumor, metastases in her lungs, and metastases in her bones. Even though it felt as if we had almost defeated the disease, there was nothing they could do for her any more. She would be in the hospital from that point on. To make matters worse, my father was hospitalized two weeks later for an emergency stomach operation. He was in the same hospital on the 6th floor, my mother was on the 8th. It was around Christmas and I would visit them every day. Most of the time, my mother was very confused due to the tumor pressing on her brain but, sometimes, she had a clear moment.

It was during one of these clear moments that I was sitting on her bed and we were talking about life and everything that had happened. We talked about my studies and what I would do, later in life, when she would not be around anymore. About how I would some day graduate, maybe get married. We talked about her youth, about her alcoholic brothers, about the failed pregnancies, about my sister. Even about the fact that it was so screwed up that she was living some of her last weeks, and exactly at that time my dad became hospitalized.

And it was at that time that she looked at me and said:

‘’You know what, actually I am glad about all the shit that happened to me in life. And a lot of shit díd happen. But all those harsh times, all the adversity, it has taught me to enjoy and cherish all the good things in life more intensely than I imagined possible. I am grateful for everything and everyone I had.’’

There you have it. She wasn’t happy despite adversity, no, she thanked adversity for making her enjoy everything and everyone. You hear that cancer? CF? Alcoholism? You ain’t got nothing on her, heck, you made her stronger. She díd conquer cancer, in her way, she conquered it all.

It has changed how I see everything around me since. From minor setbacks to freaking mountains of adversity, I always try to approach it with a smile on my face. Don’t get me wrong: I don’t pretend everything is okay when it is not, but I fight, I keep going, and I keep telling myself that, at the very worst, adversity is going to make me stronger. And you know what? I am as happy a person as I could be!

I hope my mother’s wise words might help some of you, like they have helped me and still help me every day.

In loving memory of my mother: you won’t be gone until you’re forgotten.

Chinese leaders changed to western clothing as a matter of protocol.

There are many research studies to back this up and we can see it in applications as well.

IBM salesman (no women in those days) wore a suit with a white shirt and classic tie. That was the dress code.

Sales dramatically improved.

Traditionally salesman wore sports coat and trousers. So the IBM look made them look like a businessman not a salesperson. They were talking to peers when they made their calls.

In his book Dress for Success, the author John Molloy conducted studies using different clothing. He sent people to offices to deliver a small package. If they dressed in a sports jacket and trousers,the receptionist always said leave it with me. If they were dressed in a suit with a shirt and tie, they would be told to knock on the door and give it to the executive or they call him to come out and get the package.

Chinese are very pragmatic.

They use whatever works.

Dressing in white shirt and tie with a tailored suit means you at the same level as your counterpart. When you meet the president of the US, you dress like him.

Interestingly though is Xi Jinping’s wife who dresses in traditional Chinese attire when she accompanies him on state visits.

Bought in as a contractor/programmer to work on an in-house system that they wanted to modify.

“Its the best system – its in C++, so its really fast”

No probs, I can work on that.

Get in there, day 1 – nice big factory, decent office space, lots of nice cars in the carpark. Get myself all setup on the system, meet the other programmer (just 1 developer in the whole company … hmmm)

Me > “OK, account is all setup, setup dev tools, meet the manager, discussed the general plan …. ready to start reading. Where is the code?”

OtherProgrammer > “?”

Me > “The source code. The C++ code ?”

OtherProgrammer > “Oh, we dont have the source code”

Me > “??”

Me > “This is an in-house system, right ? The thing you want to modify, you own it right ?”

OtherProgrammer > “Yes, its an in house system, we own it, its all ours”

Me > “and the code ?”

OtherProgrammer > “Oh I see what you mean. Yeah, that was all written by another contractor. He isnt here anymore”

Me > “did he …. leave any code by any chance ?”

OtherProgrammer > “No, we didnt pay him in the end, so he didnt give us the code”

…. at which point, I had a lot more questions than I knew I would ever get answers for. By the end of the week, I had managed to get out of that initial project and work on a different project they had on the go, so the billable hours could be justified still.

Same problem though – they had “another contractor” offsite who was working on something entirely different that was pretty interesting. So I started working on some infrastructure around that instead. It was some cool stuff the other guy was building, was going to be fun.

And it meant I didnt have to deal with their one and only full time “Developer” that worked there somehow without any source code, and the obviously clueless engineering manager was none the wiser about why this was sub optimal.

… Until one day, he suggested I dont get too involved in that other project either.

Me > “Oh, why’s that ? whats wrong with project ?”

OtherProgrammer > “Nothing, he is doing great work”

Me > “?”

OtherProgrammer > “But we have decided that we are not going to pay him for it <big smile>”

… just like that ! Quite out in the open about it. Bragging about how clever they are, they can get work done by honest people, and still manage to weasel their way out of having to pay for it.

So Clever, and proud of it too.

See ya later, idiots !

(in case you are wondering – yeah, I got my billed hours paid …. eventually … every last cent)

Andrew DESTROYS entitled 52 year old FEMINIST saying she deserves a TRADITIONAL man

52 year old woman tries to find love.

I feel for her. She wasn’t compatible with anyone.

Shorpy

Why is the United States losing its hegemony to China?

It’s now clear that Peng Shuais allegations were firmly investigated

In China, it’s crucial that Party officials don’t violate discipline otherwise they are fried

Since China doesn’t have Elections and Votes, Party officials need their reputation

Peng Shuai alleged that she was sexually harrassed

Had she reported this to 12345 citing anonymity

No problems

She published this on Social Media referring to a Party member by name

He was dumping her and she was pissed

However in China – Social Media is under the full view of the CENSOR

Automatically the posts garnered attention and the Censor stepped in

Peng was summoned by the Censor and asked

Do you have Evidence?

Why wait so long?

Meanwhile the Party member was hauled up by the Internal mechanism and he said they were in a relationship and he dumped her

Under Chinese Law, if the Censor hauls you up, your Internet Id doesn’t work for a few weeks or a month and you can’t login or send a message on weibo or even reply to mail (confused on this point)

This is China

So the Censor initiated a State Investigation and China has like millions of cameras

Soon they began to see Camera feeds

They saw Peng willingly laugh and hold hands, kiss, go to hotels and eat in restaurants like a favorite girlfriend for weeks and weeks

They presented her with evidence and she folded immediately and confessed that HE HAD DUMPED HER and she had got pissed

Thats that

From that minute on, she lost face and in China that’s bad

So now whether she is charged with lying on public media or not – Nobody knows

A few of my top ones include:

• What do you call a black man in space? An astronaut.
• How many men does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Three, one to screw it in and the other two to listen to him brag about screwing something.
• A faster than light neutrino says ‘I’ll have a whisky’, sits down, then walks into a bar.
• A woman is approached by a man in a suit, and a foot tall man carrying a miniature keyboard. The man in the suit says ‘I have a magic lamp here, with a genie in it. He’ll grant you a single wish, but be careful, he’s hard of hearing.’ The woman takes the lamp and says ‘I wish for a million bucks.’ All of a sudden the sky is blocked out by a million ducks flying overhead. ‘That’s not what I wished for’ the woman yells. The man replies ‘do you think I wished for a twelve inch pianist?’
• A priest, a doctor, and a politician are kidnapped by an evil psychopath. The psychopath says ‘I’m going to get each of you to hold a snake for ten minutes, the most venomous snake in the world. If it doesn’t bite you, I’ll let you go. If you refuse, I’ll shoot you.’ The priest says a short prayer, kisses his cross, and holds the snake. It bites him, and he falls dead almost instantly. The doctor examines the snake, tries to find the best position to stop the snake being uncomfortable, and holds it. The snake bites her, and she falls over dead. The politician is last up, he just mutters ‘screw it’ and holds the snake. To his amazement, the snake stays still, it doesn’t bite him. He holds it for a full ten minutes, and is set free. He puts the snake in its box and takes it with him. As he leaves, feeling no small amount of Survivors guilt, he looks at the snake and says ‘I wonder why you killed that pious holy man and that great saviour of lives, but let me live.’ ‘Professional courtesy’ the snake replies.

Before the coup in HK in 2019, HK was ranked 3rd in the world on the scale of freedom. USA was only 7th.

What makes (some) HKers think they have no freedom & must flee HK?

“HK has no freedom” is just a political slogan by USA+UK to brainwash HKers because USA+UK have been plotting to control HK government. It was a modern-day colonisation without occupying HK. That is all.

They were plotting to overthrow China’s regime. That is all. They tried many times. Xizang (Tibet in English) in 1959. Tiananmen in 1989. Xinjiang in 2009, HK in 2019. White Paper protest in 2022. Taiwan ongoing.

Some HKers did flee to UK. Now they find UK national security law is tighter than HK’s. ie they have less freedom in UK than in HK. They found UK police are tougher than HK.

They find out that “freedom is a political slogan only” in the hard way.