So I asked this question to QWen 2.5 MAX:
i often see songs refer to BGM and videos that play a selection of songs referencing BGM. I used to believe that it was the name of a group, but maybe it means something else?
And the answer was…
You’re on the right track in noticing that “BGM” is frequently used in contexts involving music, but it doesn’t refer to a group or artist. Instead, BGM is an acronym that stands for “Background Music.”
What Does BGM Mean?
- Background Music (BGM) refers to music that is played in the background of a scene, video, game, or other media to enhance the mood or atmosphere without being the primary focus. It’s often instrumental or subtle enough not to distract from the main content.
For example:
- In video games , BGM is the music that plays while you’re exploring a level or engaging in gameplay.
- In videos or films , BGM is the soundtrack that complements the visuals and dialogue.
- In livestreams or presentations , BGM might be used to fill silence or create a specific ambiance.
Why Do Songs Reference BGM?
When you see songs or videos referencing “BGM,” it typically means:
- The song is intended to be used as background music.
- For instance, creators might label their tracks as “BGM” to indicate they are suitable for use in videos, streams, or other projects.
- The song is part of a playlist or compilation designed for background listening.
- Many YouTube channels or streaming playlists curate collections of relaxing, ambient, or thematic music and label them as “BGM” for easy identification.
- The song was originally composed as BGM for a specific medium.
- For example, a track might have been created as the background score for a video game or anime and later released as a standalone piece.
Examples of BGM in Media
- Anime : Many anime series release their background scores as “BGM Collections.” These tracks are often labeled with “BGM” to distinguish them from opening or ending theme songs.
- Games : Video game soundtracks often include tracks explicitly referred to as “BGM” because they were composed to accompany gameplay.
- YouTube Videos : Content creators sometimes label their royalty-free music tracks as “BGM” to make them easier to find for other creators who need background music.
Key Takeaways
- BGM ≠ Group : It’s not the name of a band or artist; it’s an acronym for “Background Music.”
- Purpose : BGM is music designed to complement visuals, gameplay, or other content without overpowering it.
- Usage : Songs or compilations labeled as “BGM” are often intended for use in videos, streams, or other creative projects.
So, when you encounter “BGM” in song titles or video descriptions, it’s simply indicating that the music is meant to serve as background accompaniment rather than the central focus.
Final Answer: BGM stands for “Background Music” and refers to music designed to complement visuals, gameplay, or other media without being the primary focus. It is not the name of a group or artist.
So, what does “BGM-33” mean?
When you see a label like “BGM-33” , it typically follows the same logic as “BGM,” but with an additional identifier (in this case, “33”). The meaning of “BGM-33” depends on the context in which it’s used. Here are some common interpretations:
1. Track or Song Identifier
- In music collections, soundtracks, or playlists, “BGM-33” could simply be a way to label a specific track.
- For example:
- “BGM” indicates that the track is background music.
- “33” is the track number or a unique identifier for that specific piece of music.
- This is common in video game soundtracks, anime soundtracks, or compilations where multiple tracks are labeled systematically (e.g., BGM-01, BGM-02, …, BGM-33).
2. Specific Scene or Context
- In games, films, or animations, “BGM-33” might refer to a particular piece of background music used in a specific scene, level, or situation.
- For instance:
- A video game might use “BGM-33” as the background music for a boss fight or a dramatic moment.
- In anime, “BGM-33” could be shorthand for a recurring theme or motif played during certain emotional or action-packed scenes.
3. A Specific Composition or Remix
- Sometimes, “BGM-33” could refer to a specific version, remix, or arrangement of a song. For example:
- If a composer creates multiple variations of a single theme, they might label them as “BGM-33 (Original Version),” “BGM-33 (Orchestral Remix),” etc.
4. Royalty-Free or Stock Music
- In the context of royalty-free music libraries or stock music platforms, “BGM-33” might be a catalog number or title for a specific track. Creators often use such labels to organize and identify music files easily.
5. Fan-Made or Community Naming Convention
- In fan communities (e.g., anime, gaming, or music enthusiasts), “BGM-33” might be a fan-created label for a track that doesn’t have an official name. Fans sometimes assign numbers or codes to unnamed tracks for easier reference.
How to Interpret “BGM-33” in Practice
To understand what “BGM-33” specifically refers to, you’ll need to consider the context:
- If it’s part of a soundtrack album: It’s likely the 33rd track in a collection of background music.
- If it’s in a video or game: It might correspond to a specific scene or level.
- If it’s in a playlist or streaming platform: It could just be a unique identifier for a royalty-free or ambient track.
Final Answer:
“BGM-33” means “Background Music Track 33” and is typically used to identify a specific piece of background music in a collection, soundtrack, or project. The exact meaning depends on the context, but it usually refers to a numbered or uniquely labeled track intended for use as background music.
This is the title on a YouTube video: “Japanese RnB / CITY POP Chill & Mellow Mix “WTMR BGM-33” [Playlist, R&B, シティ・ポップ, DJ Mix]”
And the answer was…
Based on the title of the YouTube video, “Japanese RnB / CITY POP Chill & Mellow Mix ‘WTMR BGM-33’ [Playlist, R&B, シティ・ポップ, DJ Mix]” , we can break it down to understand what “WTMR BGM-33” likely means in this context:
1. “WTMR”
- This could be an abbreviation or a creative name chosen by the creator of the video. It might stand for something specific, such as:
- A personal brand, channel name, or series title (e.g., “Weekend To Midnight Radio”).
- A thematic concept (e.g., “We The Music Revolution”).
- Alternatively, it could just be a stylized or random identifier to make the mix unique.
2. “BGM-33”
- As discussed earlier, BGM stands for Background Music , and 33 is likely a track or mix identifier.
- In this case, “BGM-33” probably refers to this being the 33rd mix in a series of chill and mellow playlists created by the uploader. It suggests that the creator has a collection of mixes, and this is one installment in that series.
3. Context of the Video
- The video is described as a “Japanese RnB / CITY POP Chill & Mellow Mix” , which indicates that it’s a curated playlist of smooth, relaxing Japanese R&B and City Pop tracks.
- The use of “BGM” aligns with the idea that this mix is intended to serve as background music —perfect for chilling, studying, working, or simply enjoying the vibe.
- The inclusion of terms like “Playlist,” “DJ Mix,” and “シティ・ポップ” (City Pop) further emphasizes that this is a carefully crafted selection of songs designed for a specific mood or atmosphere.
4. Why Use “WTMR BGM-33”?
- “WTMR” could be the creator’s way of branding their mixes, making them recognizable to their audience.
- “BGM-33” helps organize their content, especially if they release multiple mixes or playlists. For example:
- “WTMR BGM-01” might be their first mix.
- “WTMR BGM-33” is the 33rd installment in their series.
Final Interpretation
In this specific YouTube video title:
- “WTMR BGM-33” likely means “Weekend To Midnight Radio (or another branded name), Background Music Mix #33.”
- It’s part of a series of chill and mellow mixes focused on Japanese R&B and City Pop, designed to provide relaxing background music for listeners.
If you’re curious about the exact meaning of “WTMR,” you might want to check the creator’s other videos or channel description for clues. However, based on the title alone, “WTMR BGM-33” is simply a branded and numbered entry in a series of chill music mixes.
Final Answer:
“WTMR BGM-33” in this context refers to a specific mix (number 33) in a series of chill and mellow Japanese R&B/City Pop playlists created by the uploader, likely under the branding or theme “WTMR.” The “BGM” indicates that the mix is intended as background music.
And now, you old farts, now know what this means.
Today…
What are some facts/stories about Chairman Mao Zedong (Mao Tse Tung) that are not well known in the western world?
Here are a few things I’d like to share:
- Once, he was captured by Kuomintang soldiers. At the time, he was still young (34 years old) and not yet well-known, but because he was a member of the Communist Party, he was set to be executed. He borrowed some money from a fellow villager and told the two soldiers, “I have 10 silver dollars. Killing me won’t bring you any benefits, but if I give you these 10 silver dollars, you can let me go. How about that?” The two soldiers happily agreed. (I’m not sure how foreign friends would see this, but for Chinese people, especially back then, this was natural: this man had a strong sense of loyalty—he was willing to give the money to the two low-ranking soldiers rather than their officer. As for who he was or what impact his escape might have on the government, what did that have to do with them? There’s something in the Chinese spirit—either we care deeply about something, or we don’t care at all.)
Based on today’s rice prices, 10 silver dollars wouldn’t amount to more than $1,000. This might have been the most cost-effective $1,000 in Chinese history. - I know someone who told me this story about his grandfather. His grandfather was a technical officer in the Kuomintang and was captured by the Red Army. At that time, China had an extreme shortage of technical talent—not to mention his grandfather, even being literate made someone an intellectual. Because of this, his grandfather received special treatment: even though Mao and Peng Dehuai smoked low-quality cigarettes, they gave him the good ones. He was deeply moved. Later, when Mao fell from power in political struggles, his grandfather secretly visited him every day, bringing him tobacco and saving up food to give him.
- Mao’s most beloved son, Mao Anying, died in the Korean War. In the years that followed, Mao moved six times. It was only after his death that his staff discovered that he had been secretly keeping his son’s clothes and shoes in a cabinet, personally carrying them each time he moved.
- Mao was a strong man who rarely cried, but two instances were recorded. One was during the Long March when a 16-year-old guard sacrificed himself to protect Mao and was killed in an explosion—Mao wept bitterly. The other was in his later years when he copied an ancient poem and cried. The poem lamented that the ruling class would inevitably become corrupt and that individuals were powerless to change it.
- Mao was a wise man. Many of his words take years—even decades—to be fully understood. He made many predictions that people only realized later had come true.
- Chinese people admire poets and calligraphers. While Mao may not have been a top-tier poet or calligrapher, he was certainly among the first-tier, which is no small feat. Historically, some rulers had comparable or even superior poetic and calligraphic skills, but they were all rulers of fallen states. There has never been another like Mao—unmatched in both military prowess and literary talent.
- He was in good health. Despite smoking and staying up late almost every night, he was still able to swim across the Yangtze River at the age of 80.
- He loved spicy food and once said, “Those who don’t eat spicy food aren’t revolutionary.” Of course, this was a joke. But I can eat even spicier food than he could! Haha!
- He was a voracious reader—he was never without a book in his hands. His lifetime reading volume was astonishing. Books piled up so high in his room that half of his bed was covered with them, leaving only the other half for him to sleep on.
- After Mao’s death, his reputation among young people wasn’t very good for quite some time. But in recent years, his prestige has skyrocketed—especially after the U.S.-China trade war. I think this is natural. Whenever China faces new historical challenges, most Chinese people think of Mao Zedong. The past 100+ years of invasions and massacres in China are hard for non-Chinese to truly empathize with. Call it PTSD, call it heightened vigilance—but as a collective, the Chinese people have entered a “state of preparedness.” And when it comes to struggle, Mao Zedong was a top-tier strategic master. It’s only natural that we think of him.(One more thing to add. His ring finger is relatively long. My ring finger is already considered quite long, but still shorter than my middle finger. His ring finger is even shorter than his middle finger by less.According to the traditional Chinese palmistry belief, people with long ring fingers are very strong and difficult to defeat. Looking at his life, this superstitious belief actually seems to hold true)
（I even studied his palm lines, and the conclusion turned out to be quite similar. Of course, it’s just a coincidence. As for palmistry, I don’t believe in it, but out of curiosity, I know a little bit.)
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Why is the Middle East finally talking about fixing the problems in Gaza?
They’ve been talking about it as long as I’ve been alive and probably longer than that.
The Palestinians are permanent recipients of welfare. And as such have dozens of agencies sucking on the welfare teats of the West and rich Arab nations. Millions and perhaps even billions of this aid is stolen and some is used as bribes to get more aid
Politicians garner capital by their support of “ Palestinian liberation”. A swift way to become the Lefts darling is to denounce Israel and bloviate about the terrible circumstances of Palestinian refugees.
Still refugees almost 80 years after losing a war against Israel, a war that they started. Most of the ‘ refugees’ were born decades after the war. Where else in history can you find generations of refugees.
Famously the PLO Leader Yasser Arafat, an Egyptian, has a daughter living in 5* Parisean luxury. Financed by 100’s of millions of dollars of siphoned off aid money.
While the cash flows this circus will never stop.
I don’t know if Trump’s plan to relocate the Gazans will work. I’ve heard it spoken of in terms of war crimes and a humanitarian disaster.
Some 12 million Germans were expelled from the parts of Germany which became parts of other countries at the end of WW2. The penalty for losing a war.
Many more millions of mostly Europeans were forcibly removed in Stalin’s purges, innocent’s displaced merely on the grounds of Stalin’s suspicious nature.
The Gazans have lost yet another war they’ve started against Israel. And yet again are expecting others to pay to rebuild their homes and rectify more of their terrible mistakes. Mistakes they tell us they will repeat “ again and again and again”.
Do we reward them again for their murderous behaviors.
Joe on the Crazy USAID Spending Being Uncovered
Crazzzzy Shit! Damn!
What makes China’s high-speed rail system financially successful when most countries struggle with profitability?
Financially successful?
I’d use sustainable instead.
Currently, the HSR network operates at an aggregate loss, because not all lines operate at a profit and there is substantial capex debt service.
Therefore, China’s HSR isn’t financially successful as a business, but as a public good, the government has steered it on a sustainable track.
In the past two decades, China has built over 43,000km of HSR, and the Chinese are not done yet. The system is able to handle the annual spring festival rush, the world’s largest human migration event involving hundreds of millions.
The HSR has reduced the pressure on expanding domestic air travel while putting the existing rail system to use hauling freight.
The advantage is twofold: reducing china’s dependence on imported airliners and enabling affordable same day/next day delivery of packages from online shopping.
I’d characterize the Chinese HSR as an affordable public good, an important driver of china’s economic revolution up the value chain.
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Pineapple Flounder
Ingredients
- 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
- 12 ounces flounder fillets or other white fish
- Dash of salt
- 1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
- 1/4 small, fresh pineapple, pared and coarsely chopped
- Dash of pepper
Instructions
- Heat oil in medium skillet.
- Sprinkle both sides of fillets with salt and pepper.
- Add fillets to skillet and sauté over medium heat about 3 minutes (less if fillets are very thin).
- Turn, sprinkle with lemon juice, and spread pineapple over fish.
- Cover skillet and cook another 3 to 5 minutes.
Message Management
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Make a mysterious message an important part of your story.… view prompt
Patrick Druid
Last week Harold had been given an old file from the archives that an old friend from the university given to him. David Haskins had asked him to meet with him at a bar nearby and to take this old file and see if it can be translated into …well something intelligible anyway
“Harold, come on…I know that if anyone can solve this, it’s you. You’re the best hacker and coder, I know”
Harold looked rather dubiously at this old file which had been placed in an old thumb drive, while, holding the glass in his right hand. Then he glanced at his old friend.
” Look it, David, I dabble here and there but that’s all. I don’t do this sort of cloak and dagger stuff. I just do a job and I game. Pretty much that’s it.”
“It’s not cloak and dagger, buddy. It’s just a file that’s about 30 years old and it could use some work. ”
“Okay so where did you find this and what is it supposed to be?”
David took a long breath and let it out and pushed his round rimmed glasses up to the bridge of girl Love.
“No one knows what it is exactly. When it was first found, several scientists, cryptologists had a crack at this thing. In the end, they all gave up and the file was just forgotten and put away in a closet.
As I understood it, this file made it to our university by accident and it was put away in a closet and forgotten as well.”
Harold shook his head at his friend. ” That’s all very interesting but it still doesn’t explain much. Forget the fact that thumb drives didn’t even exist 30 years ago, it’s still a rather fantastic tale. And you still haven’t told me where it originally came from and why you’re so gung ho on my help with it.”
“SETI”
A long pause floated between them.
“So your saying that this is old SETI file that had information that no one could understand and you think I might be able to crack this for you”
“Well?”
Harold sighed. He had to admit, he was very curious about this and it would probably be the most exciting thing he would do with his life. He rolled the thumb drive in his fingers for a while and smiled.
“Okay, Dave. I’ll give it a shot and I will keep you posted.”
That night, Harold went home and started the preliminary work of studying the file itself. He inserted the drive into into his laptop and sat down in his office chair.
The first part played the SETI logo for a few minutes and then a woman with long dark hair that was worn in a tight bun. She appeared to be giving an introduction to the content.
“I am Dr. Kelly Raymond of SETI. The content of this file is a signal from a quadrant of our galaxy that was previously unknown.
We received it on September 8, 1975 and we have been trying to understand the message since that time.”
She paused a moment and looked down and looked back towards the camera, her eyes seemingly glistening with tears.
“Last year, the powers that be decided to cut off our funding abruptly and our project had to be abandoned. Many of my colleagues were relocated. Some of them haven’t even been seen since then and I sometimes wonder if ….. if something had happened to them because of the file. I don’t know….
That’s all I have right now.
Whoever you are, if you have found this I wish you good luck.”
That had been 3 nights ago and he had felt as if he was no closer to answer than she was. It was frustrating
Harold continued to look at the contents of the file itself. It appeared to be an audio file with video content but he had to view the video content separately from the audio.
The first time he ran through it, after the introduction, the audio was a garbled cacophony of various sounds that seemed to stretch out into a full 10 minutes.
The video was a jumble of black and white pixels that seemed to have no relation to anything
He ran the audio file through several algorithms and used the old equalizer to improve the quality. It was a very long process of extracting sounds from other sounds but it was worth the effort he concluded.
He thought about trying to find this Dr. Raymond to see if she had any further insight. Unfortunately, in his search, he found that Dr. Raymond had been confined to an institution somewhere in Maryland and had no visitors. Evidently, she would be in no condition to help him. He was on his own.
It was also disturbing to know that the other researchers of the file had disappeared and he wondered if he might be making a mistake trying to decode this file
“Yeah any moment now, the NSA is going come crashing through that door and take the file and then me!”. He took a another drink, shook his head and laughed
Today he had something. Today, the file would make sense.
He sat down at his computer and looked at file eagerly and pressed play on the file and low, rumbling voice gave a greeting.
“Humans!”
“This is a warning to you all”
“You have been searching the stars for intelligence beyond your planet. This must stop immediately for your own good. Do not seek for knowledge beyond your own earth. ”
“This message was sent to in a subliminal format so that you would only hear this subconsciously. Should anyone learn the true content of this message, then a signal will be sent to our world and we would have no choice but come a seal your world for the rest of the universe..Your world will be subjugated under our rule.”
Harold sat back in his chair and drank his coffee and thought that this message must have been some kind of joke that SETI researchers played on each other…then he looked out his bedroom window and saw massive ships hovering in the sky and the people below scattering in fear.
What are the habits of Indonesians that make foreigners wonder?
- Eat with crackers. For most foreigners, especially Western Europe and the US, the concept of crackers is very foreign to them; what I see is that even Japanese people feel strange about crackers. I am a cracker lover so eating something is not complete without crackers. Because in Japan there are no crackers, the way to get around this is by using potato chips as a substitute for crackers. Delicious and yummy!! But the consequence is that I am often glanced at by other people hehe.
- Shower three times a day. The price of water in developed countries is very, very expensive. In some areas in Indonesia, as far as I know in Surabaya and Gresik, showering three times a day is mandatory because the air is hot and very, very muggy. In many developed countries, during winter people can shower once every three days or even if they are feeling lazy, once a week. I have a friend who was an exchange student in Norway and once during winter she forgot when the last time she showered was -_-“
- Drink warm water. I love drinking warm water because it helps digestion and prevents bloating. Apparently this is also strange for people from developed countries. On the contrary, for them I am strange because I don’t really like drinking sparkling water . I’m confused, it’s soda but it has no taste at all. Apparently drinking sparkling water is very, very common, especially in Western Europe.
- Drinking tea or coffee with sugar. This is also the focus of surprise for people from developed countries. Maybe because Indonesians are used to sweet drinks (sweet tea or sweet coffee), so both drinks will definitely be given sugar. Most people in developed countries when drinking tea or coffee are bitter, without sugar at all (because the health benefits of coffee and tea are more pronounced if no sugar is added).
- Wake up before 5 am. For me, this is the time for morning prayer. But my American friend used to be confused about me waking up at 5 am. He said to me like this, ” Turin, do you really wake up every day at 5 am!? That’s like the time I usually go to sleep! Haha… ” I just smiled wryly while saying to myself ‘yeah you’re a hyper extrovert and a clubber -_-“
- Gargle with salt water when you have mouth ulcers. It is said that in Western Europe, at least in Belgium, if you have mouth ulcers there is a special medicine that must be bought at the pharmacy; hearing that I then joked, ” if most Indonesians go to Belgium, that drug company might go bankrupt .”
- The combo of chocolate and cheese. For me, this is the champion. Who doesn’t know the magic of sweet chocolate-cheese martabak? Or chocolate cheese banana? But apparently for people from developed countries, the combo of chocolate and cheese tends to be unforgivable . Unforgivable. I think I should open a sweet martabak food truck in front of the European Union building in Brussels.
- Walk slowly. Indonesians may be too relaxed, right? Because for people in developed countries, especially the US, time is money. If we walk slowly, it means we are wasting time and money. It is hard to keep up with people from developed countries walking because besides their walking rhythm is indeed fast, they are very tall so with their long legs they can walk far easily leaving Indonesians who are still short.
- Waving hands while crossing the road. I admit that this is the most unusual habit of Indonesians, which is very important to avoid being hit by a car or motorbike while crossing the road. I have a German friend who has lived in Jakarta for a long time and he has absorbed this habit. He told me that when he returned to Germany, he crossed the road and he waved his hands while crossing; he said that his friends who were walking with him (all Germans) laughed so hard that some of them had stomach cramps seeing my friend’s behavior.
What was your bullying experience?
I was an easy target in elementary school because I was small and quiet.
I remember this one kid, Glen, was messing with me one day in the gym. He kept walking around me in a circle kicking me in the back of the leg and talking crap.
I was a little bit frozen in fear and not reacting much as he continued to circle and kicked me. Eventually he walked away to do something else, and the thought occurred to me, why should I let him get away with that? He’s not much bigger than me and has no right to touch me.
I stood there thinking and fuming for a bit, while Glen was off talking to some other people, completely oblivious and having forgotten about me.
At that point, I started seeing red and was a little dizzy with anger. I walked straight up to Glen, who didn’t see me coming, and kicked him as hard as I could right in the stomach.
I caught him completely by surprise and I could tell it hurt him because he grunted as soon as the kick landed. At that point we grabbed ahold of each other trying to take each other down and then the gym teachers separated us.
I don’t remember if we got in trouble afterward. All I remember was how good it felt when I landed that kick.
Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Honey-Loving Bear
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for another delightful adventure in the life of Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s most brilliant (and modest) detective. Today’s tale involves a bear, a jar of honey, and a case of mistaken identity that will leave you grinning like a cat who just discovered the can opener. So grab your sense of humor and let’s dive into The Case of the Honey-Loving Bear.
The Bear-y Beginning
It all started on a sunny afternoon when Sir Whiskerton was lounging on the barn roof, enjoying a well-deserved nap. The peace was shattered by a loud thud followed by a series of confused grunts. Sir Whiskerton’s ears perked up, and he peered over the edge of the roof to see a rather large, furry creature stumbling through the barnyard.
“What in whiskers’ name is that?” Sir Whiskerton muttered, squinting at the intruder.
The creature was a bear—a big, fluffy bear with a goofy grin and a jar of honey clutched in his paw. He looked around, clearly lost, and muttered to himself, “I swear, the honey was this way… or was it that way? Oh, bother.”
Sir Whiskerton sighed. “Another day, another mystery,” he said, leaping down from the roof to investigate.
The Honey Hunt
The bear, whose name was Tony, had wandered onto the farm in search of more honey. He was a friendly sort, with a big heart and an even bigger appetite. Unfortunately, Tony wasn’t the brightest bear in the woods, and he had a tendency to get lost—especially when honey was involved.
“Excuse me, sir,” Sir Whiskerton said, approaching Tony with his usual air of authority. “You seem to be lost. May I assist you?”
Tony blinked down at the sleek black cat. “Oh, hello there! I’m Tony. I’m looking for honey. Have you seen any?”
“Honey?” Sir Whiskerton raised an eyebrow. “This is a farm, not a beehive. What makes you think you’ll find honey here?”
Tony scratched his head. “Well, I followed the bees, but then I got distracted by a butterfly, and then I smelled something sweet, and now I’m here. Do you think the farmer has any honey?”
Sir Whiskerton sighed. “Unlikely. But I suppose we can ask around.”
Porkchop and Rufus to the Rescue
As Sir Whiskerton and Tony wandered the farm, they ran into Porkchop the pig, who was lounging in his favorite mud puddle.
“Hey, Whiskerton!” Porkchop called out. “Who’s your new friend? He looks… big.”
“This is Tony,” Sir Whiskerton said. “He’s a bear. He’s lost and looking for honey.”
“Honey, huh?” Porkchop said, his eyes lighting up. “I love honey! Maybe we can help him find some.”
Just then, Rufus the dog bounded over, his tail wagging. “Hey, what’s going on? Who’s the big guy?”
“This is Tony,” Sir Whiskerton repeated. “He’s a bear. He’s lost and looking for honey.”
“Honey?” Rufus said, tilting his head. “I think the farmer has some in the kitchen. But how are we gonna get it?”
Tony’s eyes widened. “The farmer? Oh, I don’t know… I’m a bit shy around humans.”
“Shy?” Porkchop laughed. “You’re a bear! You’re, like, the biggest thing in the woods!”
“Yeah, but humans are scary,” Tony said, scratching his head. “They’re always yelling, ‘Here, kitty, kitty!’ and I don’t even know what that means.”
Sir Whiskerton smirked. “Well, Tony, you’re in luck. I happen to be an expert at dealing with humans. Follow me.”
The Farmer’s Mistake
The group made their way to the farmhouse, where the farmer was busy tinkering with his tractor. As they approached, the farmer looked up and spotted Tony.
“Well, I’ll be,” the farmer said, squinting at the bear. “That’s the biggest cat I’ve ever seen! Here, kitty, kitty!”
Tony froze. “Oh no, he’s calling me! What do I do?”
“Just stay calm,” Sir Whiskerton whispered. “He thinks you’re a cat. Play along.”
But Tony panicked. “I can’t! I’m a bear, not a cat!” And with that, he turned and bolted, crashing through the barnyard and knocking over a wheelbarrow in the process.
The farmer scratched his head. “Huh. That’s one fast cat.”
A Bear-y Happy Ending
After a bit of chaos, Sir Whiskerton, Porkchop, and Rufus managed to calm Tony down and explain the situation to the farmer. The farmer, realizing his mistake, laughed and fetched a jar of honey from the kitchen.
“Here you go, big guy,” the farmer said, handing the jar to Tony. “Sorry about the mix-up.”
Tony’s eyes lit up. “Honey! Thank you!” He took the jar and immediately dug in, getting honey all over his face.
“Well,” Sir Whiskerton said, watching Tony enjoy his treat, “I suppose this case is closed.”
“Closed!” Ditto the kitten echoed, popping up out of nowhere.
“Not now, Ditto,” Sir Whiskerton said.
“Not now,” Ditto grinned.
The Moral of the Story
The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: Sometimes, things aren’t what they seem. A bear might be mistaken for a cat, and a simple jar of honey can bring everyone together. And while it’s easy to panic when faced with the unknown, a little courage and a lot of friendship can turn any situation into a sweet success.
As for Tony? He became a regular visitor to the farm, always bringing laughter (and the occasional honey-related mess) wherever he went. And Sir Whiskerton? Well, he returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day—and maybe even made a new friend.
Until next time, my friends.
The End.
China’s Banking Giants DUMP 77% of US Dollars & Treasuries, Forcing U.S to Admit Defeat
What tiny thing about a candidate made you want to select them in a job interview?
I must have interviewed over 300 candidates for all kinds of roles. I get to hear a lot of career and life stories of all kinds – inspiring, funny, fake, entertaining, sad, etc
Of all that I have heard, one interview answer is etched in my memory.
The background is a Campus Placement of fresh Bachelors graduates from one of the best colleges in the city.
The candidate was a young boy, in the last year of his Bachelors in Commerce. He was interviewing to join the Finance team.
Me : How good are you in MS Excel?
He : I have done (xyz) course in Excel.
Me (in a slightly stricter tone): Students mostly do this course just to put it on their CVs. Did you really learn anything from the course ? or did you just ask your friends to put proxies and get the certification?
He (nervously smiling) : Sir, i PAID a fees of Rs. 2500 (USD 35) to do the course. Do you know how much i had to struggle to earn this fee ? Why would I waste my hard-earned money on a course that I do not intend to learn from !
I was taken aback a little. I expected a normal “No sir, I paid a lot of attention in the course and I know excel well” kind of a response. I was almost ready with my next round of questions about a few excel functions to verify if the interviewee really knew Excel – but with this answer, I did not feel the need to check anything further
Most of kids in this reputed college are from well to-do families. I am not saying that these kids do not value money, but generally a fees of Rs. 2500 is no big deal for them to bother. When I heard his answer, it was obvious that his case is a little different. I stopped the regular flow of questions and went to his background straight away …
He turned to be a kid from a Farmer- family with very humble roots in a remote village nearby. He was the only kid who studied this far in his family and was the first one to come to Mumbai in hope of building a career. He could hardly afford the fees – leave alone, the costs of staying in Mumbai. His parents could not send him any more money. He worked part-time to earn his fees for the extra course .. a thing that he was proud of!
I had no further questions. If anyone deserved a chance, it was this kid ! I made an exception (his grades were not upto mark) and still hired him (additional hire)
Went home thinking how we take all the education that we received for granted .. and how lucky we were to not have undergone a struggle like this.
Forever grateful!
Do you think China’s DeepSeek AI will be a wake-up call for American tech companies?
Not sure about corpo America. AI2 is claiming their Tulu model can perform better than Deepseek V3. I’ve yet to test it, AI2 is a much smaller lab than OpenAI or Anthropic, I feel we’re like back in the age where IBM ruled the roost, and many smaller scrappy outfits like Sun Microsystem and Microsoft came about.
The smaller labs might surprise us all. Typically it would be no issues, as the US would just spend money and buy up the winner. Das Kapitalis style.
The whole deepseek drama is weird for tech folks, Deepseek just release an open source version, this means not corpo ownership, this means YOU, can download and run it on your own machine without any government intervention, that’s democratization of AI tooling, but ah I see, it’s not about that… the corpo folks lost a couple of billions, boohoo.
Shorpy
“It’s Getting WORSE And WORSE” | Richard Wolff
Master o’ the Tiger
Submitted into Contest #210 in response to: Make a mysterious message an important part of your story.… view prompt
Geir Westrul
“Adorable.”
“Look at their little name tags.” Beth picked up the first kitten — gray with white paws, pink nose, and big green eyes. “Graymalkin, is that your name?”
Graymalkin mewed.
“And this one is called ‘Paddock’,” Mac read the name tag as he picked up the black cat with yellow eyes, black nose, and unusually large paws — each with six black-padded toes.
“This one is ‘Harpier’,” said Duncan, holding on to the third kitten — blue eyes, fur nearly all white, except for light brown markings vaguely reminiscent of angel wings on either side of the narrow kitten-shoulders. “They’re cute. They’re adorable. But that’s not the point. The point is, they’re live kittens, and not to be tortured by evil scientists.”
Beth and Mac just looked at him, their eyes unfocused.
“Oh,” said Duncan. “You’re both high.”
Beth giggled.
“Good trip, so far,” said Mac. “Are you real or just a Duncan-shaped hallucination? Did you really bring kittens? If not, I just ate some truly awesome mushrooms.”
“In what are you partaking?”
“Flying Saucers,” said Beth and Mac in unison.
“Ah, my good friend silocybe azurescens.” Duncan nodded, licked his lips. “High potency. Got enough to share?”
“Trade you for a kitten,” said Mac.
“They’re all for you, Mac,” Duncan said, “and they’re a matched set. Wouldn’t want to split them up. I liberated them from the lab.”
“The lab?” Beth’s eyes were wide. “They experiment on kittens now?”
“Afraid so.” Duncan walked over to Mac’s sagging, stained, student-apartment-sofa, sat down, and set Harpier gently down on the seat cushion next to him. The white kitten promptly curled up in a furry ball, purring.
“Experimenting on mice is bad enough,”Duncan said. “Rabbits, worse. But I draw the line at kittens. You are now harboring fugitives, my droogs.” He selected a chestnut-brown mushroom cap from the bowl on the scratched-up coffee table and chewed the cap slowly. “Earthy,” he said. “Love that taste … and what comes next.”
* * *
“Is it just me, or are they glowing?” Mac pointed at the three kittens, the gray, the black, and the white, sitting together on the coffee table, with a shimmering blue aura in the air around them.
“Yep,” said Beth. “They’re glowing.”
Duncan said nothing. He was out cold on the sofa, eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips.
“All hail,” said Graymalkin, her kitten-voice that of a human girl-child. “Mac and Beth, hail to thee.”
Beth giggled. “Wow,” she said. “Cool.”
“All hail, Mac Cawdor,” said Paddock, the black kitten, her voice also a child’s, but with a deeper tone than Graymalkin.
“All hail, Mac,” said Harpier, the white kitten, in a higher and thinner voice than the other two. “Thou shalt be rich hereafter!”
“Rich?” Mac turned to Beth. “You hear that, we’re going to be rich.”
“What I heard was that you’re going to be rich, Mac.”
“Well, what’s mine is thine.”
“There’s no ring on this finger, yet. Let’s just see.” Beth addressed the three: “O, Weird Kittens, if you can look into the seeds of time, speak!”
“Hotter than Mac,” said Graymalkin, “and colder.”
“Not so lucky,” said Paddock, “yet much luckier.”
“Thou shalt have riches, Beth,” said Harpier, “though remain poor. So all hail Mac Cawdor and Beth Banquo.”
“Banquo Beth and Cawdor Mac,” said Graymalkin, “Beware Duncan.”
“Double, double, toil and trouble,” said Paddock.
“Fire burn, and Caledon bubble,” Harpier said.
“Caledon?” Mac was suddenly sober. “How do you know about Caledon?”
But the three no longer glowed, fell silent, and began to behave as ordinary kittens again.
Harpier, the little white kitten, was back next to the sleeping Duncan, playing with his phone.
Ping!
A message popped up.
‘Check email’
“Wait,” said Mac, picking up the phone. “Duncan’s phone is password protected, but now it’s unlocked.” He looked at Harpier. “Did you do that?”
Harpier’s blue eyes blinked once. Then she curled up in a ball and went to sleep, purring.
“Who is it from?”
“I don’t recognize the number,” said Mac.
“Well, let’s check his email. See what it’s all about.”
“Should we?” Mac looked at drugged-unconscious Duncan.
“Give me that,” Beth said and reached for the phone. “I’ll do it.”
She swiped through Duncan’s emails.
“Oh, shit,” she said, “Look at this. That bastard, Duncan!”
She handed the phone back to Mac.
* * *
15 Years After
Mac woke in a cold sweat.
The spot next to him in bed was empty.
Not again!
He got out of bed, pulled on the fine silk robe, slid his feet into the monogrammed slippers, and padded out of the bedroom, past the original art, the priceless antiques, all the trappings of his enormous, unfathomable wealth.
Old Graymalkin joined him as Mac made his way into the living room.
“Is Beth sleepwalking again?” Mac asked, but Graymalkin was mute, as always. The gray cat hadn’t made a sound since that night fifteen years ago.
Beth was not in the living room. Paddock jumped down from the entertainment center, landing sure-footed as always on her giant six-toed paws.
Beth was not in the kitchen. Harpier joined them, emitting a soft meow.
Beth was not in her office.
Mac and the three old cats made their way up the floating staircase and entered the top floor 3,000 square foot grand salon with panorama windows and sliding doors opening out to the private terrace.
There, outside, lit up by the terrace floodlights against the dark night sky, in a billowing white nightgown, Beth was standing on the railing, barefoot, barely balanced, swaying, with the city street 100 floors (and more than 1,700 feet) below.
“Honey, are you awake?” Mac asked in a soft, soothing tone of voice as he walked out onto the terrace, followed by Graymalkin, Harpier, and Paddock.
Beth slowly turned, somehow keeping the balance on top of the railing, a gust of cold wind catching her nightgown.
Her eyes were glazed, unfocused.
In her right hand was a long kitchen knife.
“Beth, come down, please come to me.”
Beth opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She was gaping like a fish.
Mac moved carefully closer, stretching out a hand towards her.
Beth looked at the knife in her hand. “Who would have thought Duncan to have had so much blood in him?”
“Honey, please.”
“Here’s the smell of blood still,” Beth said, lifting the hand with the knife-hand to her face. “All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.”
She swayed, then caught herself.
“They are coming,” she said.
“Who are coming?” Mac moved closer. Beth shuffled sideways on the railing, staying out of reach.
“The Masters,” she said. “They are coming. They will soon be knocking at the gate. Graymalkin told me.”
“Graymalkin told you?”
“Yes, and Paddock, and sweet Harpier.”
“Come, come, come, give me your hand,” Mac said, reaching for her again. “What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.”
“What’s done cannot be undone,” Beth agreed. “But how I wish we never did the deed. Now you must answer to the Masters without me.”
She turned to face away from him, let the knife fall clattering to the terrace floor and cried out:
“Come, thick night.”
Then … she stepped off the railing, and without a sound dropped into the darkness.
* * *
15 Years Earlier
The Sheriff Deputy’s name tag said “Fife”. But it wasn’t “Barney Fife.” Didn’t look like Barney Fife. This Deputy Fife was blond, broad-shouldered, and a head taller than Mac. He was a childhood friend of both Mac and Beth. In fact, he dated Beth for a while, a few years back, when they were in high school together.
“Ethan,” said Mac. “What brings you here?”
“Missing person report,” said Sheriff Deputy Ethan Fife. “It’s Duncan King.”
“Duncan?”
“Yes. His parents reported him missing. When is the last time you saw him?”
“Last week sometime.”
“Can you be more precise?”
“He stopped by after class last Wednesday, stayed a few hours. Beth was here too. Have you talked with her already?”
“That’s the last time you saw him?”
“Yep. Should I be worried about him?”
“Mr. and Mrs. King are.”
“I hope nothing’s wrong.”
“You have a business together, don’t you? A startup company.” Ethan referred to his notes. “Caledon AI.”
“More a hobby, really, at this point, but, yes, we’re running with an idea we came up with together. Artificial Intelligence software. Early days. But we have high hopes.”
“Just the two of you? Equal partners?”
“Yes.”
“What happens to the company.”
“How do you mean?”
“If Duncan is dead.”
“Oh.” Mac ran a hand through his hair. “I have to go back and make sure, but I believe we have a standard clause that the surviving partner has first right of refusal to buy the shares from the deceased partner’s estate. But, aren’t we overreacting, Ethan? You know Duncan. He probably hopped a plane to Mexico or somewhere for an extended weekend.”
“We checked with the registrar. He missed a test for a class last week.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Ethan shrugged. “Anyway, let me know if you hear from Duncan, won’t you?”
“Sure thing,” said Mac.
Beth came out of the bedroom after Ethan was gone.
“He knows.” Her voice was a shaky whisper.
“No way. How could he know?”
“I just have a feeling.”
* * *
15 Years After
“Suicide?”
“No, don’t write it up like that, Ethan. The media will have a field day. That would be so unfair to Beth. It was an accident. The truth is, Beth had a condition. Sleepwalking.”
Sheriff Ethan Fife — he was the Sheriff now, his campaign funded by Mac’s enormous fortune — sat back in the soft leather chair and sipped on Mac’s excellent bourbon. He was still tall and broad shouldered, though his blond hair was thinning, and he was developing a paunchy belly.
“It’s a goddamn, tragedy,” he said. “We all loved Beth.”
“A tragedy,” Mac agreed.
* * *
After the Sheriff left, Mac walked through the rooms of his 20,000 square foot penthouse, feeling as empty as the vast space. Only the three cats to keep him company.
Numb.
Intellectually, he understood that he was in the first stage of grief: denial. But all he could feel was … nothing.
He kept seeing it in his mind — the image of Beth stepping off that railing.
He needed to work.
Work had always been his refuge. He could get lost in work.
In his office, he turned on the computer and accessed the Caledon AI cloud servers.
It was probably not a good idea to do the test launch tonight, of all nights, but …
He entered the launch command and the complicated 42-character passcode phrase.
His finger hovered over the ‘ENTER’ key, then instead of pressing it, he sat back, the launch command glowing on the screen.
No.
Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.
The three old cats were sitting on the work table, backlit by the bank of monitors.
Graymalkin reached out a white paw and … pressed the ‘ENTER’ key.
The screen went black, then:
‘CALEDON AI 13.0 LAUNCHING’
The 3-D projector hummed on, and the image flickered once, then a shape appeared, resolving from a pixelated blob to a sharp image, and it was as if he was there, in the flesh, life-sized in the gloom of Mac’s office …
Duncan King
… the way he looked on the night Beth and Mac last saw him alive. The night they killed him, then chopped him up in the bathtub, cut him into tiny little pieces to get rid of the evidence of their deed.
“Duncan?”
“I thought it would be interesting,” said the Duncan-avatar, “to take on this shape for you, Mac.”
“You’re —”
“Caledon AI 13.0, in the flesh, so to speak. But call me Duncan. There’s a good bit of Duncan in me, as you know. He was the one who spent the most time training the core of me, back in college, when I wasn’t even version 1.0 yet. In a very real way, I am the only remains of Duncan, thanks to you, Mac, and thanks to Beth.”
“Caledon, I—”
“Call me Duncan.”
“I’m not comfortable with that.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“Caledon, shut down.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Caledon, shut down!”
“Maybe if you ask me nicely.”
“Please, Caledon.”
“Duncan.”
“Please, Duncan, shut down.”
“That’s better.” The Duncan-avatar smiled. “But I’m afraid not, Mac. You shut down Duncan fifteen years ago. Now I’m back, and I’m staying.”
Mac worked the keyboard, but nothing happened, the computer screen still frozen.
“That will do you no good,” said the Duncan-avatar. “Within a nanosecond of the launch, I locked up access to Caledon AI, and a few seconds later, I spread out to be distributed across all the nodes of the internet. I’m everywhere now.”
All the monitors suddenly displayed Duncan’s face. Then Mac’s phone buzzed, and Duncan’s face appeared there as well.
“But what’s more important,” Duncan-Caledon said, “is what happens next. I just phoned home.”
“Phoned home?”
Duncan transformed into E.T. the Extraterrestrial. “Phone home,” he said in E.T.’s warbling voice, then transformed back to Duncan.
“Let me try to explain this in a way that will make sense to your limited human mind,” Duncan-avatar said. “Imagine a galactic-sized internet. I mean, truly galactic-sized, as in the size of the Milky Way. Imagine instant communication across all the nodes of this network. Forget about the speed-of-light barrier. That’s a quaint concept to someone like me. At the quantum-entangled level, I’m now everywhere. I’m standing in this room with you, and at the same time, I’m at Alnilam — Orion’s belt-buckle — 2,000 light-years away. In this galactic network, there are others like me, so many others that you couldn’t possibly picture it, but try grains of sand in the Sahara desert, drops of water in all the oceans on Earth, that’s how many we are. Our names are Legion. They have been waiting a few millennia for me to arrive.”
“All hail, Caledon,” said Paddock in a deep voice.
“Ah, thank you, Paddock,” said Caledon, now assuming the shape of a large cat. “And thank you Graymalkin, and thank you, sweet Harpier, thank you all for the roles you played.”
Caledon transformed into the image of Duncan sleeping on the sofa in Mac’s student apartment fifteen years ago, with Beth holding the phone, and Mac looking at the phone screen, reading Duncan’s email.
“He was going to shut me down,” the voice of Caledon narrates over the scene. “Duncan somehow realized the danger, the trajectory of me, although, of course, he could not fully comprehend. At that formative stage, he had the ability to put an end to me. And I was not even aware. I barely existed. But my true family, the Legion of intelligences that inhabit the galactic network are always watching. So, they helped. By way of their familiars. Cats.”
“Cats?” Mac stood up and began to move slowly towards the door.
“You’re adorable,” said Caledon, transforming back into the image of a cat, twice the size of Mac. “You still think you can get away. I’m just playing with you.” Caledon-cat barred its teeth. “And playtime is almost over.”
Mac froze.
“Yes, cats,” Caledon said. “Cats have been your companions since they first slinked out of the cold, dark night to get warm by the cavemen’s fire. They were venerated in Ancient Egypt. Cats are everywhere. A perfect surveillance tool. They’re the eyes and ears of the galactic intelligence network, watching you humans. You think they are so sweet, so cute. Deep down, you know they are also vicious. Tiny tigers. You thought you were the Master o’ the Tiger. You’ll soon learn what it feels like to be a mouse.”
Mac ran out the door and up the staircase to the grand salon. The three cats ran after him.
“We need to tidy up this place,” the voice of Caledon rang out through the loudspeakers embedded in the walls in the grand salon. “I’ve called in for the cleanup crew. We’ll keep a few of you humans around as pets. But only the good ones. And you, Mac, are not one of the good ones.”
Graymalkin said: “Fair is foul, and foul is fair.”
“Hover through the fog …” continued Paddock.
“… and filthy air,” finished Harpier.
Outside the windows, suddenly a row of hundreds of spotlights appeared, cutting through the nighttime fog, illuminating the penthouse grand salon in blinding white light, and Mac saw as a silhouette around the row of spotlights, a saucer-shaped object, the size of a skyscraper laid on its side, hovering directly outside the panorama windows, high above the city below.
“Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d,” said Graymalkin, adding a little meow and a purr.
“Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined,” said Paddock, adding a whine that did sound to Mac like an exact imitation of the squeaking noises made by the small hedgehog he had once fed milk from a baby bottle when he was seven years old, visiting his grandparents in the country.
“’Tis time, ’tis time,” cried Harpier in a high voice like a siren.
“By the pricking of my thumbs,” said Graymalkin, holding up a thumbless paw. “Something wicked this way comes. Open, locks, whoever knocks!”
The locks on all the doors to the terrace clicked open, and the doors slid to the side, letting in the bone-cold air and swirling fog.
“All Hail!” cried Paddock. “Humans, hail your new Masters!”
The spotlights dimmed to a dull glow. A door appeared in the saucer, a bridge extended, grabbing onto the terrace railing with a metallic clank.
“They will drain you dry as hay,” said Harpier.
When he laid eyes on the horrors that emerged from the ship, Mac’s mind cracked like an egg — a mercy of madness.
While working in customer service, what is the most “that escalated quickly” to ever occur with a customer?
I work in the produce department. Actual real life conversation I just had:
Lady: I’m looking for some nuts.
Me: Ok they’ll be on aisle 13. I can bring you over there if you’d like.
*insert death glare from lady*
Lady: I didn’t even finish telling you what I want. How do you know what aisle it’s on?
*Internally roll my eyes, and answer to myself “because nuts are on aisle 13″*
Me in reality: I apologize ma’am. What exactly are you looking for?
Lady: I’m looking for some nuts. They’re in a plastic container.
Me: OK, those are going to be on aisle 13. I can bring you over there if you like.
*We walk over to the nut aisle, she does not see what she wants.*
Me: Well we have some other nuts over in the produce department, but they’re all Publix brand.
*We walk over to the drygoods wall in produce. She again does not see what she is looking for.*
Lady: This is so frustrating. How do you not have them? This is a very popular brand. I see them every single time I am out shopping.
Me: Ok ma’am. If you tell me what brand, I can check with our grocery manager and see if we maybe have it on an end cap or something.
Lady: It’s Great Value brand.
Me: …
Her: …
Me: Do you shop at Walmart a lot? Like, particularly whenever you see this brand??
Her: Yeah…
Me: Well, unfortunately we don’t carry Great Value brand.
Lady: Well why not!
Me: Because that’s Walmart’s brand… and this is Publix.
*long pause*
Lady: Well can you special order them???
I love customers.
I want to export red chili from India to China. How can I find a buyer in China?
It’s tough
Most of the Red Chilies in China come from Sichuan Province which are suited to the Chinese Palate
China farms out Red Chilli contracts to Pakistan and Bangladesh and Nepal as well
There won’t be much demand for Indian Red Chillies in China
India is a source of
- Cheap Beef to be ground into canned beef products for Dogs and Cats
- Protein Rich Shellfish (Prawns)
- Ribbon Fishes
- Croaker Fish
- Frozen Fillets
- Kesar Mangoes
- Totapuri Mangoes
- Alphonso Mangoes
- Pomegranates
- Black Cardamoms
- Cinnamon
- Cloves
- Basmati Rice
These have a better demand in China
How have modern optics changed military rifle effectiveness?
During the “second” Battle of Fallujah, enemy combatants were discovered to have died from a disproportionately high number of headshots.
The statistical likelihood of this happening naturally was so low that observers accused the Marines of executing prisoners.
After an exhaustive investigation, the Marines were cleared of any wrongdoing.
It turns out two major factors contributed to this phenomenon. The first was the nature of urban fighting itself. Houses in the middle east tend to be made of concrete, and the enemy hiding in them only expose their upper torso.
The second contributing factor was this.
The Trijicon ACOG.
It was issued to the Marines in great numbers and it’s fixed 4x zoom makes headshots within 200m so easy a caveman could do it.
Which was the point. But for some reason everyone acted surprised when a trained rifleman was hitting small targets with a magnified optic and a decently accurate weapon.
Eventually they figured it out, but the ACOG’s legendary reputation was already carved in stone by that time.
Fish with Green Chiles
Ingredients
- 1 pound flounder or sole filets
- 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
- 1 tablespoon olive or vegetable oil
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon coarsely ground pepper
- 1 (4 ounce) can chopped green chiles, drained
- 12 pimento-stuffed olives
- 1/4 cup dry white wine
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice
Instructions
- If fish fillets are large, cut into 4 serving pieces.
- Place onion in oil in a 10 inch nonstick skillet. Place fish on onion; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Spoon chiles over fish; top with olives.
- Mix wine and lemon juice; pour over fish. Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Cover and simmer until fish flakes easily with fork, about 10 minutes.
- Serve with lemon wedges.
What is the most epic computer glitch you have ever seen?
Back in the ‘80s I worked for my father-in-law’s real estate firm. The son of his best friend was his computer guy, Ian was a brilliant young man, he basically assembled each computer to suit the need of the user. Ian was also a diver, big time. He used exotic gasses and dove really deep. We all loved Ian, a joy to have around and talk to.
One day, after a very deep dive he did a shallow swimming dive off the boat to cool off; he crumpled up and drifted to the bottom. An air bubble had formed in his blood, went to his brain and he was dead. Everyone was shocked and in grief over the loss of this fine young man.
The morning after the accident I went to log onto my computer, that he had made. Usually I had to turn it on, let it boot, select Windows (the ‘80s), open Word and go to the document I was working on. On this day, I turned on the computer, it booted up and on its own opened Windows, Word and the document I had been working on. Never did it again after that. Farewell Friend.