My father never allowed me near guns, and while he had a few pistols and rifles, he kept them locked up and shooed me away from them. So gun culture was not anything that I participated in growing up.
Well, one day, my dog (a Siberian Husky that lived in the backyard) mauled up a possum that had wandered in under the fence.
And I, being a young boy, maybe 12 or 13 told my father about it. he chuckled, and went to the locked drawer on his bedroom. Pulled out a .22 Ruger pistol and handed the gun to me. Saying “Here you go. Kill it and throw it into the trash.”
I was shocked.
I hadn’t received any training on guns, and never ever got to fire a pistol in my entire life.
But, I took the gun. I went out to the wounding and thrashing possum, and on it were about 30 baby possums. And my dog was there barking up a storm the entire time.
I tried to shoot it, but I just couldn’t.
After about five minutes of trying, I just gave up and went back in to the house. Gave the gun to my father, and told him that I couldn’t do it.
He just chuckled, took the gun and put it away. And told me “Go, get in your room”. And that was that.
I think that he was being a real creep and jerk at that time.
Today…
Is it true that China has never bullied, pressured, or coerced another country?
Well, the Chinese have a term called 飞地, literally, “flying land” or isolated territory.
That is, political maps of sovereignty that are discontinuous in geography.
The best example I can think of is France sharing a border with Brazil. No, I am not pulling a Donald.
I know, Europe and South America are different continents.
France owns way more than a piece of Latin America beyond Europe.
In fact, the same is true of the other 3 members of the UNSC P5: America, Russia, UK.
They all claim sovereignty over discontinuous political maps. For example, there is the lower 48 or Contiguous United States and there is the 50-state United States.
These are remnants of empire, and fruit of past aggression.
China is also a member of the UNSC P5. It is the only, I repeat, ONLY member of the select group of allied WWII victors with a contiguous political map.
Yes, China’s boundaries CAN BE EXPLAINED AND DEFENDED through geography.
Now, China, being a victim of foreign aggression pre-WWII, did not receive reparations. Not only that, as victor, China was prevented, yes, BLOCKED from exercising full sovereignty over internationally recognized claims of contiguity.
What am I referring to?
Hong Kong and Macau were returned as ex-colonies of the UK and Portugal only in 1997 and 1999, half a century after the founding of the PRC. Taiwan remains renegade, propped up by imperialist American hegemony. 19th-century transgressions are still not being righted in favor of the chinese in the 21st century.
The question has the situation upside down.
China is the country being bullied, pressured and coerced, despite being a member of the UNSC P5.
Otherwise, why would countries like Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Laos and Nepal maintain negligible armed forces despite sharing a border with China? Ever hear them voice the “China threat”?
Kitchen Hints and Tips
Poultry
- Truss turkeys, chickens and other meats with dental floss. It won’t burn and it is very strong.
- Truss the bird with dental floss when grilling. Dental floss does not burn and is very strong.
Chicken
- After flouring chicken, chill for 1 hour. The coating adheres better during frying.
- If you want to stew an old hen, soak it in vinegar for several hours before cooking. It will taste like a spring chicken.
- Remove skin from chicken before cooking. If you remove the skin after cooking, the fat from the skin will be absorbed by the meat as it cooks.
- For golden brown chicken every time, put a few drops of yellow food coloring in the shortening before it has heated.
- Defrost frozen chicken by soaking in cold water that has been heavily salted. The meat will be pure white and very tasty.
- Tenderize chicken and other fowl by rubbing them inside and outside with lemon juice after cleaning and before dressing.
- To prevent roast poultry from sticking to the pan, simply place it on a row of celery stalks and carrot sticks you’ve tossed with a little salad oil, then roast as usual – no roasting rack needed.
- Use leftover pancake batter to coat chicken for frying.
- For golden brown chicken every time, put a few drops of yellow food coloring in the shortening before it has heated.
Turkey
- With a basting needle, inject the raw turkey around the breast and thighs with 1/4 pound melted butter. You will have a juicier bird.
Who is the Alaskan Avenger? What did he do?
The man in picture got the nickname ‘The Alaskan Avenger’ after hunting down sex offenders, pedophiles and beating them to pulp after robbing them.
His name is Jason Vuckovich. He was abused sexually and physically as a kid by his stepfather Larry Lee.
His parents were dedicated Christians. His horror and confusion grew tenfold when his stepfather started using late-night prayer sessions to abuse him.
Larry was arrested and charged with abuse of minor including Jason and his half brother Joel but was later released, he never served any jail time and the abuse continued.
When Jason turned 16 he ran away from home along with Joel.
He claimed that he felt an “overwhelming desire to act” so he used the Alaskan sex offender registry to track down criminals. In 2016, he broke into their homes, beat them brutally with a hammer and robbed them.
Soon he was arrested and sentenced to 28 years in prison. He agrees that what he did was wrong and that vigilantes have no place in our society. He isn’t apologising for what he did but for his revenge that messed up his life. He wants his story to discourage anyone who is considering “Vigilante Justice”.
He’s serving the jail time that his step father really should.
Jason with his half brother Joel who was present to testify about all the horrors that Jason had to go through as a child.
Rednote Exposed: Americans STUNNED by How Good Life is in China… And Now They’re ANGRY!
In this eye-opening video, we bring you another round of Americans / TikTok refugees reacting to Rednote—and this time, their reactions are even more intense! Watch as they discover just how advanced and fulfilling life in China truly is, from cutting-edge technology to thriving communities. But as they learn more, their shock turns to frustration about their own situation back home. Will this change their perspective? You’ll have to see their raw, unfiltered reactions to believe it!
If the United States leave NATO, how would Europeans replace the entire US arm industry overnight, would they still buy weapons on the United States until they can find a Chinese supplier? Can US raise the prices since they are not obligate to EU?
There is a very serious problem with spending money on American weapons: all of them depend on the US industry for supplies and parts and it’s very likely they have some killswitch that would make the Pentagon disable their software if their political leadership could decide so.
So there is a very real and serious risk that money spent on US weapons could be thrown out the window. Considering the kind of political leadership a majority of Americans have elected, the future is very uncertain for anyone buying American weapons. Or using any kind of American services (for example any software services). You’d end up being at the whim of some former TV show host who now leads the Pentagon and he could one day feel that your F-35s should be remotely bugged and another day that they could be enabled again, if you pay more. Same for any satellite services bought from Starlink. Elon Musk already made some veiled threats that he could stop providing the paid service any time, but then he quickly backtracked, giving himself enough cover but also posturing as the generous benefactor enabling your current service.
That’s just not a way to spend your tens of billions on this kind of strategic purchases and then have a mafia running the White House play with the switches, just for fun, and then calling you on social media a little man who needs to sit down and be thankful you’re getting a service you paid for.
Production line of a future site of an arms factory where weapons maker Rheinmetall plans to produce artilleries from 2025, in Unterluess, Germany February 12, 2024
G36 rifles are lined up on military premises where German reservists undergo shooting training, in Beelitz near Berlin, Germany, March 6, 2025
Ariane 6 rocket lifts off from Europe’s spaceport, on a delayed mission to carry a French military observation satellite towards orbit, in its first commercially operational launch, in Kourou, French Guiana March 6, 2025
The Post-Apocalyptic Life of Harry Milk
Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.… view prompt
Ralph Aldrich
Harry opens the basement apartment door, steps outside, and discovers a man lying in the stairwell. Shocked, Harry tries skirting past the derelict man, but on closer inspection, he notices the mouth gaped open, and his eyes rolled up into his head. “Good God!” Harry whispers, “Is this man dead?” He instinctively holds his breath as he stumbles up the few steps. Reaching the street level, Harry encounters a horrific sight. Traffic isn’t moving, and cars are scattered every which way. There are cars smashed into one another, some on fire, and a tiny one trapped beneath a tractor-trailer truck. He can see people slumped over their steering wheels, horns blaring. Dazed, Harry places his trembling hand on his forehead.
Hearing footsteps, he sees a man running toward him. Harry reaches out his hand to ask him what’s going on. The man does not stop because he is being chased by another man carrying a butcher’s knife. Harry shrinks back down the stairwell. Routine helps him gain some control as he sets off on foot while fretting that this will be the second time he has been late for work in the past fifteen years.
Harry scurries down the sidewalk while listening to sirens blaring and something like gunfire in the distance. Clutching his jacket, Harry weaves between the cars to reach the other side of the street and arrives at the United Insurance Company building. The door is open, and Harry sees Hank, the security guard, lying dead in the dark. Picking up Hanks’s flashlight, Harry enters the dark building, heading for the filing department. Entering the filing room, Harry hears someone moving about. He swipes his flashlight around until he sees Mr. Dickerson, his boss.
“Mr. Dickerson, sir. What are you doing here?” Harry asks quizzically. Dickerson answers in quick, tense words, his voice on the verge of breaking.
“They’ve gone mad! They’ve all gone mad, I say!”
“Who, sir? Who’s gone mad, and what exactly has happened?”
He looks at Harry in utter amazement. Dickerson’s tie is crooked, and his hair is a mess. His hands have seemed to take on a life of their own, flying from his face to his hair to his tie. “What do you mean, man? The United States and Russia went to war last night for three hours! Russia won by launching missiles!”
“Are you saying the Russians used atom bombs on us?” Harry whispers, then covers his mouth in shock.
“NO! NO! NO!” Dickerson screams. “They did much worse. They used neutron bombs! Neutron bombs only kill organic living things, like you and me! I came here because there is an old bomb shelter in this room. That’s how I survived, but now I’m wondering what I survived for?” Dickerson pauses and then yells at Harry, “Who the hell are you, anyway?”
“I’m Harry Milk, sir. I work in this department.” Harry ponders what Dickerson has just told him and tells Dickerson what he thinks happened to let him survive as well. “I have a basement apartment over on the East side, and I’m guessing that’s what saved me?”
Dickerson becomes excited and animated. “Yes, yes, that’s it exactly! It worked like a shelter, a bomb shelter! That’s what it did! You’d better go. You better go back to your shelter NOW! Prepare, Harry, prepare for the worst, for the world has gone mad! MAD!”
While Dickerson rants and raves in the background, a confused and frightened Harry finds his way back to the lobby and exits outside. He stands there for about twenty minutes, trying to think of what he should do when he hears the sound of glass shattering. Looking up, he sees an office chair sailing through the air. As it plummets toward earth, someone follows it with their hands covering their face. He races back inside the doorway and ducks into the corner of the wall. First, he hears the clamor of the chair hit, and then a sickening splat follows. Harry turns and peeks through his fingers to see the sickening mess. He can’t tell who the person is but recognizes the business suit. It’s Mr. Dickerson. Harry slides down the wall in despair. He is on the verge of tears as he thinks perhaps Dickerson is right. Who would want to live in this world now? Instinctively, he looks at his watch and sees that it is lunchtime. Harry seems to remember dropping his lunch bag somewhere, but it doesn’t matter; he is too upset to eat. Looking back on the way he came, Harry starts to go home.
Being cautious, Harry keeps low to the walls and ducks in and out of the doorways. He even peeks down alleys before crossing them. Rounding the corner of Thirty-sixth Street, Harry is within sight of his apartment building when suddenly, a shot rings out, and a bullet ricochets off the pavement right behind him. Harry scampers in complete terror to hide behind a big blue mailbox. Harry whimpers, his heart pounding rapidly, and he steals a glance over the top of the mailbox. He sees a man with a rifle standing on top of a four-story building, laughing maniacally. Shaking the rifle in the air, the man shouts, “I almost got you that time, you little bastard!” He laughs some more, “Come on, get out from behind there and give me another chance at you!” Harry ducks down just in time as two bullets rip through the top of the mailbox. Harry looks around franticly for a way to escape when he spots a bullet-ridden police cruiser. The officer is dead on the pavement. Harry races to the cruiser in a zig-zag fashion, catching the shooter off guard.
“Ho, Ho!” the shooter yells. “You’re pretty fast for a little fat fella! Don’t worry, I’m still gonna kill you!”
Harry crawls to the dead officer and takes his police revolver and ammo. He slinks to the front of the cruiser and jumps up, wildly firing the gun in the man’s direction. The man takes cover as Harry runs with all his might to his apartment and jumps down the stairway. He hits the door hard. Harry fumbles with his keys, cursing himself for locking it in the first place! Once inside, he relocks it and backs away. Panting and sweating, Harry stands for a long time with the gun pointing, trying to keep it steady. Something catches his eye in the filtered light, and he realizes it’s the photo of his mother. Picking it up, Harry looks at his mother’s face through the broken glass and starts to cry.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I’ve tried to live my life as you taught me. I’ve always been a gentleman. I never was mean or cruel to anyone. On the contrary, I’ve always been nothing but kind and considerate at all times. I always gave my best at work and did as I was told, never causing the company any trouble. I always put the other person’s needs before my own and look at what it has got me. At the first sign of trouble, they turn on one another instead of trying to band together and help one another. Just now, some crazy man tried to shoot me, and I think his only reason is that there is no law left. My boss, Mr. Dickerson, saw how the world was going and committed suicide. I’m sorry, Mother, but I fear this may also be my only option.
Suddenly, the front door burst open in a shower of splinters. Harry’s eyes grow wide with fear as he backs up. He grips the gun with both hands.
“Thought you could get away from me, did ya? Well, guess what? I saw you take to the ground like a scared little rabbit!” The man laughs and looks around the apartment, “Nice digs.” However, when he looks back, he sees Harry pointing the police revolver directly at his head.
“Ho, ho, ho, look at you!” the shooter exclaims. “But let me ask you something. Have you ever shot anybody, let alone killed them? I think not! It’s hard to do, even when you know you have to! I’m pretty sure you can’t do it, right?”
Harry feels a sense of calm wash over himself. His mind is sharp and clear, his breathing has returned to normal, and his hand is steady. Holding the gun feels quite comfortable and gives him confidence. Harry looks at the intruder, “Oh no, I’m quite capable, see,” he pulls the trigger. In the nano-seconds before the bullet enters the man’s forehead and exits through the back of his skull, Harry sees the expression of disbelief flash across his face as if thinking this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Harry remains undisturbed by what has just happened. He hated to admit it, but it felt good. Turning back to the table, Harry picks up the picture of his mother, “I’ve changed my mind, Mother. I’m not going to stand by and let innocent people suffer at the hands of these assholes. Pardon my French.” Out of habit, he looks at his watch and then chuckles. He takes it off and places it beside his mother’s picture. “I don’t believe I’ll need this anymore, Mother.” Harry pushes his glasses up his nose. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to save the world.”
Living through this nightmare has turned Harry into a true hero!
Are there any typical New York scams targeting tourists?
There is a classic scam in New York that I don’t see happening in France. This is the broken glass scam.
It’s been around for a long time and works particularly well in New York because there are people on the sidewalks and lots of tourists.
The principle is simple: someone pushes you in the street when you look away and drop something that breaks on the ground. Often it’s a pair of glasses, a bottle or even a phone. Any fragile object.
The person then starts yelling, saying that you pushed them and that it was your fault, and that of course you have to reimburse them for the damage.
This is a scam that naturally works well with tourists. It’s incredible to be in the middle of a scandal in the middle of the street, it’s scary. And it’s hard to get away from the scammer, who shouts louder and stops people from leaving by grabbing their arms.
Of course, the object that broke when it fell to the ground was already broken or had no value.
How to get out of this scam?
The locals continue walking, giving the bandit a look of contempt, letting him know they are not being fooled.
But for a tourist, who may not speak the language well, the easiest way is to call the police to get rid of the problem.
This is enough to discourage the cheater.
Richard Wolff Shocked by How Catastrophic the Next 30 Days Will Be…
Is China out to clobber US capital markets with all its AI announcements such as DeepSeek, Manus, etc?
Unintentionally. But the end result will be gratifying when the American AI bubble bursts. I think it has entered count-down. Estimated magnitude is $600 Billion in high-tech stock alone and counting. The ripple effect may be even bigger. But I have a sneaky suspicion that stock market crash is Trump’s design to shoo capitals to US treasury bond in order to lower the excruciating interest expense on the runaway national debt that is totally out of control. Poor Musk has a tough job in fighting tsunami using a ladle.
MM AI cat generations
How BlackRock Prices Americans OUT of New Homes
Hal Turner Nation August 26, 2025
What appears to many people to be a BlackRock and Private Equity Firm housing scam, is EXPOSED!
They are buying up entire new housing developments, sometimes 500 houses of new construction at a time.
They’ll buy the houses at $300k per home.
They won’t sell them right away, they’ll keep the area looking like a construction zone for a year.
Let’s say there are 3 different models of homes in the community they bought. Then, a year later, they’ll sell 3 of those houses (that they bought for $300,000) to themselves in another fund they manage, for $700,000.
That creates 3 sales “comps” (comparable) in the neighborhood.
They do one of each of the house models, and now, the entire neighborhood, each house is valued at $700,000!
Then they’re going to turn them into obscene rentals and simultaneously they’re going to have a 2.5x value on that portfolio to borrow against.
Every American in that community . . . was just priced out of everything around that community.
Sir Whiskerton and the Great Jello Mold Mystery: A Tale of Wobbles, Wisdom, and Whiskers
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of gelatinous intrigue, cryptic clues, and one very determined cat with a monocle that doesn’t actually improve his vision but does wonders for his air of authority. Today’s adventure will take us deep into the wobbly world of jello molds, where nothing is as it seems, and everything jiggles. So, grab your favorite snack (preferably not jello), and settle in for Sir Whiskerton and the Great Jello Mold Mystery: A Tale of Wobbles, Wisdom, and Whiskers.
The Wobbly Beginning
It all began on a foggy morning when the first jello mold appeared. Rufus the dog was the unlucky soul to stumble upon it—or, more accurately, stumble into it.
“Sir Whiskerton!” Rufus barked from the barnyard, his green, glowing fur now speckled with bits of lime jello. “There’s something weird in the barn!”
I, Sir Whiskerton, was in the middle of a very important sunbeam nap, but duty called. With a dramatic sigh and a flick of my tail, I leapt from my perch on the barn roof and strutted toward the commotion.
The scene was… perplexing, even by farm standards. In the middle of the barn floor sat a wobbly lime-green jello mold, at least three feet tall and shimmering like it had been made from radioactive pond water. Embedded inside were a pair of mismatched socks, a rusty spoon, and what appeared to be a fortune cookie with the message sticking out.
“What in the name of all that is feline is this?” I demanded, adjusting my monocle for dramatic effect.
“It’s jello!” Rufus barked, wagging his tail and sending bits of gelatin flying everywhere.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But why is it here? And more importantly, why does it smell faintly of pickles?”
Big Red, the clumsy rooster, waddled over, his curiosity as big as his clumsiness. “It’s definitely weird,” he said, poking the jello with his beak. The mold wobbled menacingly, almost as if it were alive. Big Red jumped back with a squawk. “It moved!”
“It’s jello, Big Red. It always moves,” I said, though I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of unease.
I carefully extracted the fortune cookie from the jello with a paw, wiping off the gelatinous goo before reading the cryptic message aloud:
“Beware the wobble that speaks.”
The Mystery Thickens
By midday, more jello molds had appeared around the farm, each one stranger than the last. A cherry-red mold in the chicken coop contained a rubber duck, a compass, and a piece of paper with the words, “The ducks know too much.”
A neon-blue mold near the pond held a single sock (where were all these socks coming from?), a toy robot, and another message: “Follow the beatnik.”
The animals were in an uproar. Doris the hen fainted no fewer than three times, Lillian added her usual dramatic flair by landing in a pile of straw, and Harriet clucked something about “the end of days” while fanning herself with a leaf.
“I’m telling you,” Doris squawked, “this is a sign! A terrible sign! What if the jello molds are plotting to overthrow the farm?!”
“Calm yourself, Doris,” I said, though I couldn’t entirely rule out the possibility of sentient jello. “This is clearly the work of a prankster—or someone with far too much time and gelatin on their hands.”
“Or paws,” Jazzpurr said, striding into the barn with his usual beatnik flair. He wore a black beret tilted at a jaunty angle and carried a bongo drum under one arm. “Dig this, Whiskerton. The jello molds? They’re art, man. Pure, wobbly art.”
“Jazzpurr, this is no time for your abstract nonsense,” I said, though I couldn’t entirely discount his theory. “Did you have anything to do with these… creations?”
Jazzpurr shook his head, his beret nearly falling off. “Nah, man. But if you follow the vibe, the groove, the jiggle, you’ll find your answers.”
The “Aha!” Moment
The breakthrough came later that evening when Big Red stumbled upon yet another jello mold, this one glowing faintly in the moonlight near the road. Inside the mold was a small, battery-powered fan, a pair of sunglasses, and yet another cryptic note:
“Bigcat cometh.”
I felt my fur bristle. Bigcat, the oversized and overly ambitious Maine Coon from the neighboring farm, was known for his ridiculous schemes. If anyone had the audacity to create a series of bizarre jello molds as part of some elaborate plot, it was him.
“Rufus, Jazzpurr, Big Red,” I said, rallying my team. “We’re going to Bigcat’s farm. It’s time to put an end to this gelatinous nonsense.”
The Showdown
Under the cover of darkness, we made our way to Bigcat’s farm. It didn’t take long to find him. The oversized feline was lounging on a throne made of hay bales, surrounded by more jello molds than I could count.
“Ah, Sir Whiskerton,” Bigcat purred, his extra toes tapping rhythmically against the hay. “I see you’ve discovered my little… project.”
“Bigcat, what is the meaning of this?” I demanded, gesturing to the jello molds. “Why are you littering the farm with these wobbly monstrosities?”
Bigcat chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made Rufus’s fur stand on end. “It’s simple, my dear Whiskerton. I’m testing a new form of psychological warfare. The jello molds are designed to confuse and distract, leaving my enemies vulnerable.”
“Enemies?” Big Red squawked. “You mean us?”
“Of course,” Bigcat said, flicking his tail. “But alas, I underestimated your ability to piece together the clues. No matter. The jello was just the beginning!”
Overcoming the Wobble
Before Bigcat could reveal his next dastardly plan, Jazzpurr stepped forward, bongo drum in hand. “Hold up, man,” he said. “You’re looking at this all wrong. Jello isn’t a weapon—it’s a vibe. A groove. A metaphor for the impermanence of existence.”
Bigcat blinked, clearly thrown off by Jazzpurr’s existential ramblings. “What are you talking about?”
“Jazzpurr, you’re a genius,” I said, catching on to his plan. “Bigcat, your jello molds are indeed a metaphor—for your own insecurity. You create chaos because you fear being forgotten. But true greatness doesn’t come from wobbly pranks. It comes from connection, from community.”
Bigcat’s tail drooped ever so slightly. “You… you really think so?”
“I do,” I said, stepping forward. “And if you return all the stolen socks and promise to stop terrorizing the farm, I’ll personally invite you to our next poetry reading.”
Bigcat hesitated, then sighed. “Very well. But only if there’s tuna.”
The Moral of the Story
And so, dear reader, the Great Jello Mold Mystery came to a happy resolution. The stolen socks were returned, the jello molds were repurposed into wobbly works of art, and Bigcat learned that true greatness comes not from chaos, but from connection.
The moral of the story is this: Even the wobbliest of mysteries can lead to wisdom if you approach them with a curious mind and an open heart. Oh, and never underestimate the power of a well-timed bongo solo.
A Happy Ending
With the farm once again at peace, I returned to my favorite sunbeam, content in the knowledge that I had saved the day—and possibly inspired the next great art movement.
Until next time, dear reader, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of wobble.
The End.
What’s one terrible thing the Nazis did that isn’t talked about much?
In the summer of 1943, Melgorzata Twardecki, a single mother living in Nazi-occupied Poland, was ordered to bring her 5-year-old son to her local council chamber the next morning. Her son Aloyzy had blond hair and blue eyes. When his mother refused to obey orders, the SS forcibly took the boy, put him on a train, and took him away. Years later, when her son returned home through a special reunification program, Melgorzata was horrified to discover what had been done to her son: the brainwashing had been so severe that when Aloyzy saw his father remove a photo of the now deceased and defeated Hitler from the wall, he called him a traitor.
Like her, hundreds of thousands of mothers experienced the same drama during the Nazi occupation. It is estimated that in Poland alone, about 200,000 children were kidnapped , and just as many were kidnapped in the rest of Europe, for a total of about 400,000 children.
The aim of this insane plan, included in the larger “Master Plan for the East”, i.e. the master plan for the ethnic cleansing of Eastern Europe, was to kidnap children of Aryan appearance, take them to special re-education centers, and “Germanize” them. In a speech in October 1943, Heinrich Himmler said, ” It is our duty to take their children with us, remove them from their environment, if necessary by kidnapping or stealing them, and send them to Germany .”
Although the Nazis believed that Poles were an inferior race, the large percentage of children with blond hair and blue eyes surprised them. They were convinced that these children were descendants of German blood, and that their kidnapping was therefore necessary as well as right to return them to their own, where they belonged.
As early as October 1939, Hitler created the Reich Commissariat for the Strengthening of Germanness under the indirect command of Heinrich Himmler, head of the SS. The Commissariat had identified 62 physical parameters in order to classify the “Germanness” of children and place them into 11 categories, from the purest to the least pure. These parameters included hair and eye color, nose length, lip thickness, posture, skull size, head shape, and even the size of the pelvic area for girls.
Children between the ages of 2 and 6 who were deemed Aryan were sent to Lebensborn , orphanages where they awaited adoption, mostly by high-ranking party officials or SS officers. The children were given false birth certificates stating that they were born in German places, and even given new names that did not betray their Polish origins. They were also subjected to intensive brainwashing to make them believe that they had always been German. Children who failed the racial test were sent to concentration camps, where they often became guinea pigs for medical experiments.
Children between the ages of 6 and 12 were instead sent to Germany, to special schools where they were taught to be good Aryans and loyal Nazis. They were taught German, and were induced to forget their native language, wear uniforms with swastikas, sing military songs and generally think like true Nazis. These too were then made available for adoption, but given their age some girls were sent to maternity homes where they were raped and impregnated by members of the SS.
Kidnappings were carried out in a variety of ways . The SS preferred deception to the use of force, because it speeded up the operation and made it much less problematic. Fake summer vacation trips were organized, or parents were induced to gather their children somewhere for fake ceremonies, or even children were taken directly from schools by the SS, so that the parents were not present and could not offer resistance. In July 1943, Himmler decreed that all racially relevant children born to women in occupied areas sent to work in factories or farms were automatically the property of the Reich: they were taken as soon as they were born, examined, and those who did not meet the criteria of the Aryan race were eliminated immediately.
The Brown Sisters , nurses dedicated to the Nazi cause,
were also established
. They moved between villages and cities in search of Aryan children. They carried sweets and candies to attract the children, pretended to be their friends, talked to them to find out if they had brothers or sisters of similar appearance, and finally reported the candidates for kidnapping to the SS.
After the war, the Polish government implemented a special program to reunite children with their families. The search was extremely difficult, and it seems that only 40,000 children out of the more than 200,000 that the Nazis had stolen were repatriated. Unfortunately, many of them were lost.
Kitchen Hints and Tips
Nuts
- Revive stale shelled nuts by placing in a flat foil pan and putting in a 300 degrees F oven for ten minutes.
- Shelling nuts a day before using them will give air a chance to bring out the oil and moistness, improving their flavor.
- When grinding in a blender or food processor, add a tablespoon of sugar or flour to each 1/2 cup of nuts to keep them from “clumping” or forming a paste.
- To quickly crack open a large amount of nuts, put them in a bag and gently hammer until they are cracked open, then remove nutmeats with a pick.
- To bring out the wonderful nutty flavor, toast nuts before using in cakes or pies. Spread the ground or whole nuts in a jellyroll pan. Toast at 350 degrees F for 10 to 20 minutes, until lightly browned, stirring occasionally for even browning.
- One method of roasting and salting nuts is to lightly whip an egg white in a large bowl. Pour the nuts into it and shake them around. Scoop them out of the egg white and scatter on a baking sheet. Sprinkle with coarse or kosher salt and bake at 300 degrees F until the nuts are golden brown.
- Toast raw nuts by placing them on a cookie sheet and brushing lightly with a mild cooking oil. Place in a 350 degree F oven and turn the nuts from time to time until they are uniformly golden brown. Sprinkle with salt after toasting if desired.
- Nuts can be chopped in a blender successfully by adding about a tablespoon of flour to the nuts before you grind them.
- To prevent nuts from sinking to the bottom of a baked dish, mix them with some of the flour called for in the recipe before stirring them into the batter.
Almonds
- To blanch almonds, bring to a rolling boil enough water to cover about a half cup of nuts. Drop the nuts in the water, remove from heat and allow the nuts to stay in the hot water for about a minute. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Use a paring knife to assist the nut out of the skin.
Brazil Nuts
- To remove Brazil nuts, bake them at 350 degrees F for 15 minutes or freeze. Crack and shell.
Coconut
- To open a coconut, puncture the eyes with an ice pick and drain out the coconut water. Place coconut in a shallow pan and bake at 350 degrees F for 45 minutes to 1 hour until the shell begins to crack. Cool it enough to handle, than tap it smartly with a hammer. The shell will almost spring apart. Pry out the meat with a knife.
- To shred coconut, peel off brown skin with a swivel-blade peeler or paring knife. Place pieces of coconut in blender with some of the coconut water (or the liquid called for in the recipe). Process until fine; pour out and continue with the remaining coconut. This short-shredded coconut is suitable for use in pie fillings, batters, and fruit desserts.
Hickory Nuts
- To remove hickory nuts in one piece from their shells, hold the nut between the thumb and forefinger of your left hand, stem end to the right. Place the narrow side of the nut against a brick, and sharply tap the nut with a hammer at a point one-third the length of the nut from the steam end. With a little practice, you’ll soon be turning out more whole nutmeats and fewer fragments.
Pecans
- Pecans will come out of their shells in one piece if cooked first in boiling water for 15 minutes.
Walnuts
- If it’s important to get the walnut meat out whole, soak overnight in salt water before cracking gently.
Is Trump going to invade Canada?
Trump’s rhetorics suggest that he will likely try to invade Canada. Like Putin, he will start with a small territory — to get his claw in.
He will probably start to take over the Great Lakes. He is already creating the context for the future invasion. (And possibly, in not such distant future.)
In the conversation with Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau, Trump stated that he did not believe that the treaty demarcating the border between the 2 countries was valid”.
Trump also said that he wants to “revisit” “sharing of lakes and rivers between the 2 nations.”
So, Trump’s statements are getting increasingly hostile.
Trump is destroying all the goodwill that the U.S. enjoyed for decades. It’s like he’s been instructed by someone whose life dream is to destroy the American hegemony in the world.
No Man Would Find This Funny
How did the Han Dynasty Chinese defeat the Huns （Xiongnu) (Turks)?
First of all, there were no Turks during the Han Dynasty. Turks were some nomadic peoples defeat by the Tang Dynasty. It should be said that the strength of Turks was far less than that of Huns. Why? Defeating the Turks was the business of the half-generation emperor during the Tang Dynasty, but defeating the Huns was the Han Dynasty 4 generations emperors task…
I find out some people have already introduced the weapons and productivity of the Han Dynasty, so I will say something about the common ways of fighting method between the farming people and nomadic people in China during Han Dynasty…
The productivity of Huns people is seriously insufficient, so they can only wander around on the grassland. Since the Warring States Period, in the northern part of China, those Huns started the ‘guerrilla warfare’ with the people who farm in China. They relied on the mobility of a few cavalry and often went south to kill and rob people during the autumn harvest period in China.
At this time, most Chinese people in the farmland often have no resistance. Farmers with farm tools are definitely no match for armed cavalry, killing and robbing, really like freebie. Waiting for the Han army arrived, those guys have already gone, so it is difficult for Han Army to find them on the grassland. Searching for those Huns cavalry on the grassland for a long time will consume the Han army greatly (The Han army’s big crossbows have great lethality, but poor maneuverability and there was no GPS ). If they encounter Huns cavalry again at this time, there would be no advantage for the Han army …
However, everyone will have the most weak time. If the most weak time in farm areas is autumn, then the most weak time in nomadic areas is winter and early spring, and the ice and snow haven’t melting. After the whole autumn and winter, many livestock and people have already consumed the materials to the extreme (they have no grain production and storage capacity). In early spring, many animals are pregnant. At this time, It’s time to revenge for the farm areas … Pregnant domestic animals made Huns slow down, Han cavalry suddenly appeared on the snowfield and surrounded their tribes,then there’s revenge…Of course, all this was after the Han Dynasty recovered from the melee in the Central Plains since the end of Qin Dynasty.
You will find that several decisive wars between Han Dynasty and Huns(Xiongnu) were almost all in winter or early spring.
Han Dynasty policy:Put done your weapons,You don’t need bear hungry any more! which is one of the reasons why many southern Huns tribes chose to stay and be sinicized after those wars.
Of course, we don’t have to worry those matters today. There are plenty of forage in pastoral areas in autumn,grain reserves, vegetables, fruits and meat also let our people no longer have to worry about regional material shortage…
Into Darkness
Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Write a story about someone confronting their worst nightmare.… view prompt
Dawn Herkowitz
“Okay, don’t freak out,” she told herself. She found that in stressful situations like this, it was important to, above all, NOT FREAK OUT. Sometimes, with migraines, people experience temporary loss of sight, right? This must be what she was experiencing. Everything would be just fine once she took her migraine medicine. Her calm, reasonable lawyer nature told her this was nothing to worry about but the feeling of nausea in her gut told a different story. Her stomach tightened and turned, and she thought she might be sick. She searched in darkness for the source of the alarm, now piercing her eardrums as the anxiety in her grew. “What the hell is happening? Can this be real? Okay, FOCUS. Find the noise and turn it off. One thing at a time.” She stumbled out of bed, tripping over the slippers she had kept on the floor for years, and walked directly into the dresser, jamming her toe on the corner. As the searing pain radiated up her calf, she instinctively looked down to see if she was bleeding. She still saw nothing but darkness. She reached down to feel her toe, and hit her head on the ornate cast iron handle of the dresser drawer. Panic and pain rose in her as she knocked over the deodorant, groped the jewelry box, the lamp, and finally, the alarm clock. She didn’t know if she was more afraid or frustrated, but at last, she had the clock. Now, where was the switch to turn off that dreadful sound? She knew, but couldn’t remember. With fingers fumbling, feeling her way over every inch, she tried to paint a picture of the clock in her head. Finally, she found the switch and silenced the alarm.
She had to figure out what was going on. There had to be an explanation. She was sure that there was a simple fix to this ordeal. She must have had too much to drink last night. No wait, she didn’t have anything to drink last night. Maybe she was just sick. Maybe this was a virus. Of course she would be fine once she could talk her way out of it. She was an excellent attorney. She could reason her way out of any situation, and this one was sure to have a quick resolution. Of course this was temporary. “Oh my God, what if this isn’t temporary?”
Terror filled her mind as she stumbled and floundered in the inky void she once knew as her bedroom. Things that were once familiar were now foreign. The simple act of walking from her bed to the dresser was now an insurmountable task. Her stomach turned as all the thoughts began rushing in… How was she going to find her way to her phone? How was she going to dial for help? She struggled to keep her composure. How would she continue in her career? How could she go on if this was permanent? How would she even do the most basic of tasks without help? She was an independent woman who never needed anyone. Now she was walking into things and can’t find the way to the toilet. Everything that once seemed so simple was suddenly complicated, and the hopelessness of the situation soon took root in her psyche. Collapsing on the floor in a weeping heap, she went numb. Nothing would ever be simple again.
What is the most satisfying instant karma you have ever heard of happening?
Happened to my ex starting the weekend of our divorce being finalized. He was abusive during the marriage and I dealt with it the best I could trying to raise children and keep him happy so he didn’t go off in a rage. He often started things out of the blue. Accusing me of odd things for no seemingly good reason. I have since learned this is projection.
Towards the end of the 35yr marriage when I could not take the death threats he blurted out of the blue anymore, the bullying, the verbal attacks, emotional manipulation, and I couldn’t look the other way without admitting I was living in a DV situation, was when he also started accusing me of stashing money. It was always something, but he mentioned this a few times. I really felt bad thinking he thought I’d do something so sneaky, low down and cheating him essentially. I understand now why he accused me, because he was projecting his dirty deed onto me.
When I filed for divorce I wanted it to go quickly and didn’t do a discovery because of cost, he was already putting up a fight to keep more of the equity in the home than was fair and I needed as much as I could to buy a little house and try to stay afloat. I didn’t see the logic in giving the lawyers more money to probably get the same when I actually felt I could trust him to be somewhat fair and honest. I decided to just negotiate with him as quickly as possible trying to be as close to fair since it would probably only end up being near the same amount minus lawyer fees anyway. Not to mention more time wasted on being married to such a miserable, abusive man. I had to be done asap for my mental health. I was sinking in the exhausting push and pull of daily life with this person. But Oboy was I wrong about him being fair, honest, or trust worthy! Looking back I know I couldn’t and should not have thought I could trust him to do the right thing. But 35yrs in DV with gaslighting and projecting and rages. I was lucky to come out of that with as much of my mind as I did. And I am very thankful that he broke that last straw on the camels back. I might have stayed even longer. I should have never stayed that long and wasted a beautiful youth on him. He was not worth it.
What I found out after the divorce, actually a few months later, was this pos had stashed money and had done so for some time. So when I looked back at that first official weekend of freedom and realize the refrigerator we had for years that never gave us a problem, up and died once the ink was dry on the divorce decree, I had to silently laugh, even if it was a couple months after the incident that I was able to do so. But I learned that was the beginning of the thousands he stashed, while accusing me of having stolen it, going out the window in heaps. I didn’t know at the time he had stolen the money and actually felt kinda bad about the fridge going out, but I had to buy a fridge for my new home and worry about myself, and I’d already pd off a new living room set that I let him keep, out of my settlement money. It was not ordered but I feel good that I did what I felt was right and how I’d want someone to treat me. Since he kept the washer and dryer, I also had to buy me a new set. I was doing the best I could with what I got, even tho I knew it was less than what it should have been. But again, I’d rather get less and be done with it than wasting more time and to keep it going only to give more money to lawyers. My choice. It all worked out fine for me. I bought my house, new fridge, washer and dryer, lawn mower, some tools and set up a pretty little place that was finally a peaceful existence for me.
He also bought a truck right after the divorce. Guess what? Within a couple months the transmission went and oops, had to dip into that stashed money again. Then the furnace had to be replaced, it was beyond repairable. Lol Then the AC quit. He also started dating the week I filed for divorce, even tho we were still married, so all those women he took out and spent money trying to impress, lol, didn’t seem to stick because they have long been gone as all the stashed money has long been gone as well.
Point is, he wrongly accused me, knowing he was doing the dirty deed. He stole the money from us to keep hidden for himself. But being a liar and a thief, Karma stripped him of that cash fairly quickly. I am glad I found about the stolen money because it did give me the giggles knowing he got away with nothing.
Oh and you might want to know that karma has left him all alone too. All those who got involved eventually saw the abusive bs and didn’t stay for the full show. And if that was not enough, Karma found me the perfect loving man I’m married to now and it eats away at the ex knowing I’m living well despite his prophesy of me living in a run down trailer and no one wanting me or ever loving me again. Projection? Maybe. I smile and sleep well either way. Lol
Can the UK take back Hong Kong?
What many young Hongkongers involved in the 2019 protests, who ignorantly did such things as carry the Union Jack or the Stars and Stripes, lost sight of was the fact that for their grandparents and parents generation, they protested being a colony under the rule of white men.
Posters were put up on walls with slogans like “Blood for Blood”, “Stew the White-Skinned Pig”, “Fry The Yellow Running Dogs”, “Down With British Imperialism” and “Hang David Trench”.[10]
Those protests made 2019 look like a Sunday School picnic in comparison. The 1967 protests involved bombs, assassinations, property damage into the millions of dollars, and only stopped after Zhou Enlai publicly issued orders for the Hong Kong protests to disperse eighteen months later.
Even in 2017 on the 50th anniversary when a memorial was held, those involved in the original protests in attendance were still calling for Beijing to vindicate them and their compatriots in their “patriotic act against British colonial tyranny.” Chan Shi-Yuen of 67 Synergy said,
“Martyrs, we did not forget. Fifty years ago you sacrificed yourselves to defend the nation’s dignity and Hongkongers’ interests,” he said. “[But] your families were left in endless anger, grief and hardships … we must demand justice. You are not rioters. You are national heroes!”—SCMP
I suspect they’d like to turn their grandchildren over their knees and cane them for such treasonous acts in 2019.
I would say so long as the generation of the 1967 riots lives, Hong Kong is likely safe from UK Invasion. They’d likely meet them in Victoria Harbor and have them swimming back to their ships. But if they couldn’t hold them off, Hong Kong, as its status is part of China, would be defended by the People’s Liberation Army, and the People’s Liberation Army Navy. If the UK thinks they can take them on in their entirety I’m sure they’re welcome to try. But I also don’t think they want to.
Although your father was being an obvious jerk, it seems, to me, that maybe it was an experience designed to cause you to perceive and acknowledge your own personal traits, as a caring STO-sentience type.
Still, it was a pretty harsh thing either way!
From the looks of it, your father wanted to test your moral compass/empathy for others. He did not think of it as selfish or gross to foist a hard decision on you, because the Possum was already wounded and dying thanks to the dog (although it’s never a good idea to give a loaded gun to a child). He wanted to see what type of person you’d turn out to be. Because had you pulled that trigger, you could have easily gone down a Service-to-Self service route for the remainder of your life. But you weren’t a monster in the making (at least to your father’s surprise), and thus let him make the hard decision.
Ironically, if your father ever learned of your involvement in MAJestic, you would certainly become a strong and terrifying monster (of Quanta) that’s sentenced many people to a fate worse than death. But at the time, he must have thought you’d never pursue a career in the Military or a future that’s fraught with peril and high stakes.
Life tends to give massive curveballs like that.
In normal, that’s a bad story that it’s happened on you.
In something special. Congratulation! You’re not 馬德斯‧欸斯卡普龍. You’re not that somewhat like the Old Empire Commander who would kills and destroy everything with no worry, no feel, no kind. You have the element from him, but you’re not him.
In the earlier post or comment I forget which, and you said that’s if Domain Commander lie to you, but didn’t. And congratulation for your join (more formally) to the Domain. I thought to write down a comment before, but ” ” said it’s better not to do so. Maybe I’ll write something wrong such like I was some worry, or / and I need to do something more important than write down that comment in that time.
I guided or ordered to ” ” to choose the person or people to do, then that’s you as MM to did / do / doing these so. I want to make an order to give you resource for this… mission, but I don’t know how.
I want to do somethings big (maybe change) for my goal, but it’s seem that I’m stuck here, and I don’t know what to do. I want “I have hundreds millions or billions dollars from lottery”, then I can give the big support. Even the small government such like the USA is holding many many resources to do or support to do something, but not just support from volunteers.
” ” touch the consciousness that if I up to the 14 dimensions, I would know something. Though I (consciousness) don’t know now. It’s not easy.
I want to tell MM, that you are the consciousness, and you (whole or main) don’t / doesn’t need to show you (consiousness) everything and keep them in your memory. You (consciousness) are the divide one, not every change to you (whole or main) would affect you (consciousness) so far / now or withing the / some period of time.
And if we have the resources enough, I hope that we will have the back up for these important informations (your MM articles, videos) and I hope that we would have people, the volunteers to keep this mission going, to the next level, and hope what as my goal would manifest. (The “hope” is an easy way to say.)
Many people are backing up the content here. So it will not disappear. Though the daily updates are just indexes of current events that aren’t of that much interest in the long picture. The personal MM stories might have some value. I would appreciate someone collecting them. Heh heh. -MM