My daughter got a toy makeup kit. And being in Kindergarten, she absolutely loves it. And of course, she has been putting on the makeup all day.
Lipstick, fingernail polish, mascara, foundation, blush, eye shadow, and fake lashes.
I think that she thinks she looks great. But from my point of view as a father… I think that she is growing up too fast. LOL
Well, when she starts wearing REAL makeup she’ll make lots of mistakes. So now is the time to practice and learn.
Cheap toy makeup is TERRIBLE. It gets over everything and is impossible to clean up, but this is a better quality of makeup so hopefully it will be much easier to remove. Well… I hope anyways.
It’s a life experience.
Living the dream.
Today…
What are some mind-blowing amazing facts about the human body?
Here are fifteen facts you probably don’t know about the human body:
1/ Beard hair grows the fastest. If a man never shaves, his beard can grow up to 10 meters by the end of his life.
2/ Our heart produces enough energy in one day to drive a truck 20 miles.
3/ The acid in our body is powerful enough to dissolve a razor blade.
4/ Our nose can register 50,000 different smells.
6/ Throughout our lives, we produce an average of 25,000 liters of saliva, or a large swimming pool.
7/ A human bone, on the same scale, is stronger than a steel bar and is composed of 31% water.
8/ Women blink about twice as much as men.
9/ A baby is proportionally more powerful than an ox.
10/ An adult’s body is composed of approximately 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 atoms.
11/ We use 200 muscles to take a single step.
12/ Blondes have about 30,000 more hairs than other hair colors.
13/ We have as much hair per square centimeter as a chimpanzee. Ours is just finer and lighter.
14/ Our eyes see the world upside down. However, our brain puts the images in the right direction.
15/ Our body contains about 2kg of bacteria.
16/ For mosquitoes to drain our blood in one bite, it would take 1,200,000 mosquitoes biting simultaneously.
HOW SHARED STRUGGLES UNITED THE USA & CHINA: REDNOTE’S CROSS-CULTURAL SUPPORT MOVEMENT
Will people in the EU and Canada really stop buying American goods because of the tariffs?
Will they? It’s already happening as of March 22, 2025, at least in Canada. American products have been pulled from shelves. American businesses that are just over the border are reporting that Canadians are no longer showing up to use their facilities. There is already an economic pinch in several American sectors including liquor and wine (ask Kentucky and California). Canadians are bound together and alongside their government as never before insisting on “buying Canadian”. As an American, can I blame them? Not a bit. Our “president” has not been a good friend, neighbor, or ally.
Because Trump was raised in a deeply dysfunctional family, he believes his father’s edict that you punch friends and enemies alike in the face until they do what you want them to do. Trouble is, the EU is a significant economic force. For a small country (pop 40 million), Canada has always punched way above their weight. Neither entity needs to kiss Trump’s willy to exist and thrive.
We will be cleaning up Trump’s mess (economic and otherwise) for generations. That is if Trump and Elon allow us to still be a democracy into the future. At this point, the oligarchs are winning, but time will tell.
Bayou Chicken Surprise
This Bayou Chicken Surprise recipe is courtesy of Red Creek Inn Vineyard and Racing Stable, Long Beach, Mississippi.
Ingredients
- 4 medium chicken breasts
- 1/2 medium bell pepper, chopped
- 1 onion, chopped
- 1 (16 ounce) package mild pork sausage
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- Oil
- 2 cups chicken broth
- 1 cup Uncle Ben’s rice
Instructions
- Cut the chicken breasts into bite-size pieces.
- In a frying pan combine the chicken with the bell pepper and onion.
- Add the cooked sausage and salt and sauté until golden brown in enough oil to keep from sticking.
- Add the chicken broth and rice.
- Cover the pan and cook slowly for 45 minutes.
What does it mean if an old boss says he doesn’t think of his employees as friends? Is this a positive or negative statement?
A boss stating they don’t view employees as friends typically emphasizes maintaining professional boundaries, which can be positive if it ensures fairness, minimizes favoritism, and keeps expectations clear (e.g., prioritizing productivity over personal rapport).
However, it might signal a transactional leadership style if interpreted as indifference to employee well-being, potentially harming morale or trust.
The statement’s intent and context matter: Is the boss avoiding blurred lines, or neglecting team connection?
If balanced with respect and support, it’s likely pragmatic; if dismissive or cold, it risks alienation. Neutral on its own, but worth assessing alongside their broader behavior.
I must win
Submitted into Contest #288 in response to: Start or end your story with someone standing in the rain.… view prompt
Ethan Biggs
The sound changes as my hammer punches the door open, compromising it permanently. I pause only long enough to steady myself before running inside. I’ll only have a few minutes to do what needs to be done. What I need to do.
Running down the sterile hallway, I find the double door at the end and push my way through.
There, in the middle of the room, lies my machine. My life’s work. My life. Examining my electronic child, I notice nothing out of the ordinary. They haven’t started dismantling it yet. Which means it’s time to get to work.
I open the cover on the side of the machine, and toggle the digital display on. The small cooling fan hums as the computer starts up and I wait impatiently for the menu screen to appear. It always took ages to boot up.
A clattering sound coming from the hallway steals my attention. I pick up my sledgehammer and go to the doors. Shoving it through the handle, I hopefully buy enough time to do what I need to. I get back to the computer quickly, the menu screen is up and so I press the “run diagnostic” button. Waiting impatiently for the percentage bar to fill up consumes the next few seconds of my life.
“Hey!” An angry thudding on the double door starts my internal countdown, quicker than I expected, this will be tight.
“Come out of there!” I consider how he’s here already as the diagnostic comes to its conclusion.
“All hardware ready”
Good. I look at the “Run Simulation” button, but there’s no time and I already know it doesn’t work. That’s why I’m here. Time to figure out why. Opening up the calculations, I skim over my brainchild for the last 15 years, trying to find the error that has illuded me for weeks.
A crash grabs part of my attention. Not yet! I’m not ready! I look over and see an intimidatingly large man stumble through the broken doors. The gun and badge on his side indicating his role as campus security.
“Edward?”
I return my focus to the calculations. Searching
“Edward, you need to move away. You can’t be here anymore.”
My calculations seem perfect. I can’t find the error. Where is it?? I must find it! I’m wrenched away from my child. Crying out for the pain that never will be.
“Edward, stop. It’s over.”
I scramble to get back to my machine. “Let me go! I’m so close! I’m almost there!”
“Edward, stop fighting. You’re just making things worse”
I must make it work. I must!
Running the calculations through my mind again and again. Trying to find the solution that is just out of reach. Firing in circles, the equations fly through the air as I try to find the fault within them. Where is it?
Suddenly, my periphery is aware of something. A tapping on the ground. Tap, tap, tap. I know that sound. It’s the sound of greed. I hate that sound.
“Mr Rickson, sir!” The security guard addresses the worthless sack of meat.
I look up and meet with his scheming eyes. Eyes that know they’ve won. They’ve finally taken me down. A smug expression tugs at his cheeks, further affirming a single goal which has just been fulfilled. The goal to rid me of everything I am.
“Edward”
The word splits the air. Even the security guard cowers. But not me. I will kill this bastard if that’s what it takes.
“I assume you’ve called the police Jordie?”
“Yes Mr Rickson”
“Good, make sure they know this dense fool has gone and done the one thing I told him not to. Even after I was really nice to him about it.”
He claims with a victorious tone.
“Nice?! You cancelled my program! Stole my work! You took everything from me! You’re closing me down just because you wanted more money for yourself! You selfish-”
Wait- Dense… Density! Yes that’s it! The equations snap into place as the image becomes clear. I have the answer! I just need a minute.
“I have it!” I scream. I must make him hear me. Just once!
“No you don’t. And you never will. Take him outside.”
My arms are wrenched forwards and my body violently refuses to follow. I try my hardest but the security guard is far stronger than I am. Of course he doesn’t believe me. Even if he did, he wouldn’t want me to succeed. I’ve got to do this on my own.
“Come on Edward, don’t make this any worse than it is.” The security guard tries to calm me. I will not be calmed. In my mad thrashing I flounder for options. Equipment is too far away, I can’t grasp the door on my way through, the hallway is empty, I appear to be out of options. Then I brush something. Something that gives me a glimmer of hope. I pause for a moment and look at the security guard, he looks at me and a flicker of realization hits him.
He moves to stop me but I’m quicker. My hand moves to his hip and I draw his sidearm. He catches my arm and the struggle ensues.
“Gun!”
I wrestle for the gun but the immense strength of the man is overpowering me frighteningly quickly, fortunately, I am fighting for my life. I throw my knee into his groin and follow up with a flurry of elbows and punches with a staggering level of ferocity. He takes it well at first but gradually stumbles back and weakens, just for a moment. But in that moment, I have the upper hand. And I take that advantage.
BANG!
His eyes widen. White turns red. The floor becomes slippery.
BANG!
His eyes are gone, his head hits the floor. I’m free!
“What have you done?” I turn to face Mr Rickson. He moves towards me with a presence that is intimidating. And maybe scared?
“Put that down before you hurt someone else!”
I point
BANG!
Thud
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Click.
The ringing in my ears accompanies the quiet hallway. I’m Free! Free to finish my work. Standing up, I thunder down the hall as fast as I can. Through the broken double doors and towards my machine. I input the new solutions into the computer and Run the Simulation.
10%, 20%, 30%
The wailing of sirens pierces the night.
40%, 50%, 60%
I am tense, will it work? Will I finally be right?
70%, 80%, 90%…
100%
Success
I inhale sharply. It works. I stand in disbelief. It works. What now?
Turn it on! Turn it on! Of course. That’s what now! I chide myself for being so stupid and run over to the roller door. As I haul on the chain to open the door, the sirens becomes clearer and louder. Not here yet, but soon.
I had wheels attached to the machine which allows me to move it out into the clear night sky. I lock the wheels and hover my finger over the “Activate” button.
This is it, the moment I dreamed of. The moment it was all for. Time to turn it on.
I compress my finger into the button and stand up. Looking up as the machine starts to whir. Internal components spinning and clicking before finally firing a small stream of solution into the sky. Normally, the solution would be captive to the laws of gravity, but on this one occasion, gravity forfeits its control for just a moment. And in that moment, glory ensues.
The sky darkens even more now. Ominously foretelling of the danger to come. The wailing of the sirens and flashing of the lights begins to compete with the flashing of lightning and roar of thunder. Let them enjoy the show.
Water droplets begin to fall on my face, cementing my victory. I close my eyes and take it in as the sprinkle turns into a roaring downpour.
It works.
What happens if a chain smoker quits smoking suddenly?
My dad used to be quite a heavy smoker all throughout his adult life until he suddenly decided to quit, cold turkey, when he was around 50. He said it was not a big deal at all. He stayed away from cigarettes for years and years, never tempted, until my mom had a massive stroke and fell into vegetative state for a year before she finally died.
The stress of that was enough to get my dad to take up the habit again, until he found a lump on his neck. Well, he had a surgery (a high risk one due to his age and the location of the lump, basically right where all the facial nerves criss-cross (or something like that anyway)), and luckily it went as well as could be. After we found out the type of benign tumor that lump was I googled it and read that it may have been caused by smoking. Showed the article to him, and just like that he quit again. Never touched another cigarette to this day. And the ease with which he did it, goodness! There was no misery, no withdrawal symptoms, no longing, nothing! Just went about his days as usual.
He always brags that all it takes is strong willpower haha How I envy him!
Update: On 25 Feb 2025 the strongest willed person I know passed away. He never touched another cigarette from the moment he decided to quit to his last day. RIP, papa 💖
Never heard of Rory Gallagher until today | MINDBLOWN! | Shadow Play (Reaction!)
How was a small country like Vietnam able to win a war against the USA (1954-1975)?
Because, as usual, the US supported a wealthy corrupt elite minority. The elite were Catholic, the rest were not.
The wealthy grew ever wealthier while the poor could no longer feed themselves. Most of those who joined the North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong didn’t do so because they believed in communism, they just wanted to get the Yanks and the corrupt elite out.
When most of the population is against you, you’ll lose.
Yoon Suk Yeol’s Violent Vision for South Korea
By Gregory Elich | March 7, 2025 | Originally published in Counterpunch
As the South Korean Constitutional Court’s impeachment trial of President Yoon Suk Yeol heads toward its finish, a second trial has opened at the Seoul District Court, in which the president is charged with the crime of insurrection. As I reported in January, substantial evidence points to Yoon’s intention to unleash a campaign of mass repression under martial law. Recently, startling new evidence has emerged that paints a much darker picture of Yoon’s plan.
Investigators discovered a notebook kept by former military intelligence chief Roh Sang-won, who is widely regarded as the architect of martial law. The notebook contains instructions that Roh reportedly wrote down as dictated by his fellow conspirator, Defense Minister Kim Yong-hyun. There is suspicion that Kim wrote the notes, although handwriting analysis is inconclusive. It is a distinction without a difference in that the two worked closely together at drafting the plan for military rule, and the contents of the notebook represented agreed-upon procedures. Indeed, Kim repeatedly instructed military officers that Roh’s orders were his orders. It was an ongoing collaboration, as Roh visited Kim’s home 22 times from September up through the night martial law was declared. Kim even provided Roh with his chauffeured car to pass through the checkpoint to his residential compound.
Until recently, few details of Roh’s notebook’s contents had been publicly revealed, but South Korean media have now gained access to the entire text. It was known that Martial Law Command had organized two arrest teams to hunt down and seize fourteen prominent people whom Yoon loathed, and bundle them off to a detention center. Among these high-priority targets were former South Korean President Moon Jae-in and the current leader of the opposition Democratic Party, Lee Jae-myung, who is regarded as the main challenger to Yoon. In his martial law speech, Yoon singled out the Democratic Party’s majority in the National Assembly as one of his motivations for imposing military rule.
What the newly disclosed information reveals is that around 500 people and organizations were targets for arrest in the early days of martial law. The intended victims were assigned to categories A through D, signifying the importance assigned to their capture. The arrest list included prominent politicians and lawmakers, as well as Buddhist and Christian religious leaders, entertainment celebrities, judges, trade unionists, police chiefs, various types of officials, and even former South Korean National soccer team coach Cha Bum-geun. Up to 200 media figures were listed for “primary collection” in the first round of abductions.
In addition to named individuals, entire categories of people were identified for repression, so the intended number of victims in the first wave of arrests was likely to be far higher than the reported 500. The targeted organizations included the Catholic Priests’ Association for Justice, Korean Confederation of Trade Unions, Korean Federation of Teachers’ Associations, Lawyers for a Democratic Society, “all left-wing judges,” and “left-wing entertainers.” As a welcoming gesture for arrestees, the notebook had a reference to hiring gangster thugs to use their fists “to crush the leftist bastards.”
The goal was to wipe out the opposition. As phrased in Roh’s notebook, once military rule is established, “eliminate the sprouts to eradicate the root” and “continuously cut off the sprouts” to “collapse all leftist forces in preparation for the next presidential election.” The South Korean constitution limits presidents to a single five-year term. Nevertheless, martial law planners envisioned at least three terms for Yoon under military rule, with pre-ordained electoral outcomes in his favor. The elimination of the opposition would see to that.
Martial law planners had a permanent solution in mind for the prisoners, who were to be taken to “collection centers” located on islands in the West Sea and along South Korea’s fortified northern border. Their fate, quite simply, was to be murdered. “It is difficult to avoid investigation when using domestic personnel,” Roh wrote. “We need professionals.” To carry out that task, seven to eight special agents who are “good at shooting and bombing” would be needed. Roh selected a few special forces soldiers and undercover agents for the assignment, who were to be supplemented by contractors, reservists, and volunteers. “Confirmation kill is necessary,” it was emphasized. In other words, no one should survive.
Various methods were contemplated regarding how to “dispose” of the prisoners. One option was to install explosives in the barracks and then blow them up once the prisoners were inside. Another was to attack the barracks with grenades or set them on fire. There was also a plan to sink transport ships taking the abductees to their island destinations. Explosives would be placed in the engine room or hold. Martial law personnel would disembark at Silmido Island, send the ships on their way to Yeonpyeong Island, and then detonate the explosives “at an appropriate location.” Since a transmitter may not be an effective means, it was noted that time bombs were preferred. The explosives would need to be powerful enough to ensure that “no evidence should remain as debris.” Other approaches included an apparent plan to poison food and water or use chemical agents against “an entire prison cell.”
There was a recognized need to “destroy the evidence” after the “killing,” or better yet, misdirect responsibility, under the heading, “taking action in the North.” Among the alternatives mentioned were “outsourcing torpedo attacks,” hiring foreign Chinese contractors to sink the ships, or informally reaching out to North Korea, with the open question of “what to offer the North” in exchange for its participation. What could be more delusional than to imagine that North Korea would be willing to assist the hostile Yoon to murder hundreds or thousands of his opponents? Even more dismaying, considering that the point would be to direct world blame onto the North. A less fanciful option would be to send transport ships over the Northern Limit Line into disputed waters claimed by both Koreas in hopes of “provoking the North to attack,” or failing to elicit a response, then “sinking ships before the North captures them for trespassing, etc.”
Once the martial law regime became fully entrenched, the plan was to formalize ongoing repression with a legal veneer. This would be accomplished by establishing a special investigation headquarters staffed by regular and military police and counterintelligence agents. The organization would be responsible for expediting the arrest and trial of people labeled as leftists. Slated to operate for as long as one year, its mission was to process and sentence prisoners on an industrial scale to “the death penalty or life imprisonment.” The 500 individuals and organizations listed by name would comprise the first batch of victims, to be followed by many more in what was to be an ongoing campaign of mass repression to, as Yoon put it in his martial law speech, “eradicate” his opponents.
Those who attempted to flee or hide would have been systematically hunted down and abducted. A ban on citizens leaving the country was planned to eliminate one avenue for escape. Thought was also given to electronic means for hunting people. The Capital Defense Command contacted ride-sharing companies last August, asking to be granted access to their data in a so-called “wartime situation,” such as identification of customers and real-time tracking location. It should be noted that the Capital Defense Command participated in planning Yoon’s military takeover and played a key role in Yoon’s attack on the National Assembly. One company, Socar, conducted an internal review and rejected the request based on the lack of legal justification. How other ride-sharing companies responded is not publicly known. Whether any agreed to cooperate or not, the result would have likely been the same, as the military could have seized control over electronic tracking capabilities.
Martial Law Command attached great importance to crushing dissent and resistance. The martial law decree outlawed all political parties and activities, rallies, and demonstrations, warning that violators would be punished. It was expected that substantial numbers of ordinary citizens would raise their voices in protest and need to be imprisoned. But where to find room to house them all? From March to May last year, the 7th Airborne Brigade visited prisons in North Jeolla Province, requesting facility blueprints and permission to film. It is almost certain that other brigades were making similar requests at other prisons throughout South Korea. The information was intended to help plan to “free up space” to imprison thousands of protestors “through a large-scale amnesty” for convicts.
Information control was a key component in planning. The martial law decree issued on the night of December 3 declared, “All media and publications are subject to the control of Martial Law Command.” As a first step, Yoon handed orders to Minister of Security and Public Administration Lee Sang-min, instructing him to block the offices and shut off the power and water at media companies critical of his rule. The action was to be coordinated through the National Police Agency and National Fire Agency. According to the testimony of the commissioner of the latter organization, “Cutting off water and electricity is not something that we can do, so we didn’t take any measures.” Whether he was telling the truth or time had run out before action could be taken before martial law was lifted, had Yoon prevailed, these media outlets were destined to be shut down. With domination imposed over media across the political spectrum, the Korean people would have only been exposed to information provided or vetted by the military.
Yoon’s plan for martial law collapsed when thousands of citizens rushed to the National Assembly to resist efforts by soldiers to block lawmakers from entering the building and voting to lift martial law. Under the constitution, a president must respect the outcome of that vote. Yoon’s response, instead, was to try and organize a second martial law. By then, it was too late for him, as news broadcasts announcing the result of the vote had deflated support among lower levels of the military for his coup. South Korea had evaded disaster by the narrowest of margins, but it is not out of danger yet. In his final speech to the Constitutional Court, Yoon came across as unhinged, soft-pedaling the seriousness of his martial law plan and accusing the opposition and labor unions of working together with North Korea to threaten national security. With that mindset, Yoon seems likely to launch another martial law if the court does not confirm his impeachment.
There is every sign that Yoon believes he can return to active duty as president even if his impeachment is upheld. Imagining that he can be swept back to office by his supporters, Yoon’s public messages have mobilized right-wing extremists to threaten violence on his behalf in the event of his impeachment. Yoon has not been alone in inciting violence. YouTube fanatics are actively whipping up emotions, as is former Defense Minister and martial law planner Kim Yong-hyun, as he issues messages from his prison cell. Kim provided a statement to be read aloud at a recent rally, in which he accused the opposition of colluding with China and North Korea. Kim even supplied chants for the crowd, including a call to punish the constitutional court judges and the message, “The enemy has stolen our president. Let’s rescue him with our own hands.” If Yoon is impeached, powerful forces are bent on returning him to power through violent means. South Korea sits atop a political volcano, with its future balancing on Yoon’s fate.
Gregory Elich is a Korea Policy Institute board member. He is a contributor to the collection, Sanctions as War: Anti-Imperialist Perspectives on American Geo-Economic Strategy (Haymarket Books, 2023). His website is https://gregoryelich.org Follow him on Twitter at @GregoryElich.
After a 6 hour flight with a service dog, 2 flight attendants came down the aisle and said, “We cannot land the plane with your dog in the aisle”. I was perplexed and my response was reflective, “We really can’t land the plane?” What happens next?
My sister in laws deadbeat boyfriend – the one that told me he was the alpha male of the group – takes his non service animal dog into every store.
He’s a dumbass.
He’s knows people can’t or won’t ask if it’s a service animal or it’s just one of those things to just leave alone since everyone is so video happy.
Bottom line, he’s a dumbass.
What happened at a job that made you say “I quit” right on the spot?
When I was teaching 16- to 18-year-olds, we taught four classes a week and had a total of around 100 students.
We were expected to set and mark and assignment each week, usually an exam question.
We also had to deal with the admin required for each student, prepare reports, provide extra catch-up lessons, prepare and photocopy resources, meet with students for one-to-ones, prepare for oarents’ evenings and open days, acct as personal tutors, help with university applications and deal with students’ personal issues.
One day, the principal got everyone together and told us that next year, we’d be assigned five classes instead of four – a 25% Increase in our workload with no increase in pay
Right then and there I told myself “That’s it, I quit”. I handed in my resignation an hour later.
Two years later, the college went back to four classes, the whole ill-thought through scheme an unmitigated disaster.
When the current ‘trade wars’ end, will the American economy be weaker or stronger?
As Napoleon Bonaparte once said…
“Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake”.
This is the wake-up call many nations needed, including Europe, Canada and the UK
It’s not now, but in the future the chickens will come home to roost.
The trust has gone, new trading partners are being sought, tastes will change and more home grown products will prevail.
In four years, will Canada, Mexico, Europe, China and the UK etc. actually need America? Probably not!
Once countries know they don’t need America or, especially, they can’t trust them, this will become a self fulfilling prophesy. If not very careful, the only loser here will be the USA.
I know patriotism is very high in the States, but a deep breath and some clear thinking may be the way forward here. Still, it’s their choice and I’m sure America will do okay on its own inward looking path (hopefully… Just look at Russia!).
“Oh what tangled webs we weave when first we practice to decieve” (Walter Scott).
Steph
Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Yodeling Fish Hypnosis Show: A Tale of Trance, Turmoil, and Feline Ingenuity
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of music, mayhem, and one very determined pig who thought he could turn fish into stars. Today’s story is one of hypnotic harmonies, chaotic consequences, and a cat who proved that sometimes, the best way to break a spell is with a kazoo. So, grab your earplugs (or perhaps a pair of noise-canceling headphones) and a sense of humor, as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Yodeling Fish Hypnosis Show: A Tale of Trance, Turmoil, and Feline Ingenuity.
The Yodeling Fish Take the Stage
It all began on a sunny morning when Mr. Wigglesworth, the farm’s resident eccentric pig, announced his latest grand plan. “Ladies and gentlemen, animals of all species,” he declared, standing on a hay bale with a megaphone, “I present to you… the Yodeling Fish Hypnosis Show!”
The animals gathered around, curious but skeptical. The yodeling fish, who lived in the farm’s pond, were known for their peculiar synchronized swimming and their even more peculiar habit of yodeling. Their songs, a mix of “YODEL-AY-HEE-HOO” and the occasional operatic quack, had a strange, almost hypnotic effect on anyone who listened for too long.
“I’ve built them a stage,” Mr. Wigglesworth continued, gesturing to a rickety wooden platform he had constructed by the pond. “And tonight, they will perform for the entire farm! This is their big break, their moment in the spotlight!”
Sir Whiskerton, who had been napping on the barn roof, opened one eye. “This can’t possibly end well,” he muttered to Ditto, his ever-eager apprentice.
Ditto tilted his head. “But what if the fish are really good? What if they become famous?”
“Fame is overrated,” Sir Whiskerton replied, flicking his tail. “But I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
The Hypnotic Performance
That evening, the farm animals gathered by the pond to watch the Yodeling Fish Hypnosis Show. Mr. Wigglesworth, wearing a top hat and a bow tie, introduced the fish with great fanfare. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to be amazed! Prepare to be enchanted! Prepare to be… yodeled at!”
The fish swam onto the stage, their scales glinting in the moonlight. They began their performance, their yodeling echoing across the farm. At first, the animals were amused. Doris the Hen clucked, “This is ridiculous!” Rufus the Dog wagged his tail, and Porkchop the Pig munched on a bucket of popcorn.
But as the performance continued, something strange happened. The animals began to sway in unison, their eyes glazing over. Doris stopped clucking and started yodeling. Rufus stopped wagging and started waltzing. Even Porkchop stopped eating and began conducting an invisible orchestra with a carrot.
Sir Whiskerton, who had been watching from a safe distance, narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t good,” he said. “The fish have hypnotized everyone!”
Ditto, who had been tapping his paw to the rhythm, blinked. “Hypnotized? But it’s just music!”
“It’s not just music,” Sir Whiskerton replied. “It’s a spell. And if we don’t break it, the entire farm will be stuck in this trance forever.”
The Turmoil
With the animals entranced, the farm quickly fell into disarray. The chickens stopped laying eggs, the cows stopped giving milk, and the sheep wandered off into the woods, baaing in perfect harmony. The farmer, who had been watching the show from his rocking chair, was now yodeling along with the fish, completely oblivious to the chaos around him.
Sir Whiskerton and Ditto tried to snap the animals out of their trance, but nothing worked. They shook Rufus, shouted at Doris, and even tried splashing water on Porkchop, but the animals just kept yodeling and swaying.
“We need to break the spell,” Sir Whiskerton said, pacing back and forth. “But how?”
Ditto thought for a moment. “What if we use something louder than the yodeling? Something that can snap them out of it?”
Sir Whiskerton’s eyes lit up. “A kazoo! Of course! The perfect instrument to disrupt a hypnotic melody.”
The Resolution
Sir Whiskerton and Ditto raced to the barn, where they found a dusty kazoo in a box of old toys. They returned to the pond, where the yodeling fish were still performing, and Sir Whiskerton took a deep breath.
“Here goes nothing,” he said, and blew into the kazoo.
The sound was ear-piercing, a sharp, discordant note that cut through the yodeling like a knife. The animals froze, their eyes wide with shock. The fish stopped yodeling, their mouths hanging open in surprise.
“What… what happened?” Doris asked, shaking her head.
“You were hypnotized,” Sir Whiskerton explained. “The yodeling fish put you all in a trance.”
Rufus blinked. “I thought I was at a ballroom dancing competition.”
Porkchop looked at his carrot. “I thought I was conducting the London Symphony Orchestra.”
Mr. Wigglesworth, who had been conducting the fish with a baton made of celery, looked disappointed. “But the show was going so well! The fish were stars!”
Sir Whiskerton sighed. “Mr. Wigglesworth, fame isn’t worth losing control. The farm was in chaos because of your show. Sometimes, it’s better to keep things simple.”
Mr. Wigglesworth nodded reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right. But maybe… maybe we could do one more show? Just a small one?”
Sir Whiskerton rolled his eyes. “Fine. But no more hypnosis.”
The Moral of the Story
As the farm returned to its usual rhythm, Sir Whiskerton gathered the animals for a final word. “Today, we learned an important lesson. Fame and fortune may seem appealing, but they’re not worth sacrificing your peace of mind—or your farm’s productivity. Sometimes, the simplest things in life are the most valuable.”
Ditto nodded. “So, it’s okay to be ordinary?”
“Of course,” Sir Whiskerton said. “Ordinary is underrated. And besides, who needs fame when you have a sunny hay bale and a good nap?”
A Happy Ending
With the spell broken, the animals returned to their routines. The chickens laid eggs, the cows gave milk, and the sheep wandered back from the woods, looking slightly confused but otherwise unharmed. The farmer, who had no memory of yodeling, went back to his rocking chair, and Mr. Wigglesworth began planning a new, less hypnotic show for the yodeling fish.
As for Sir Whiskerton and Ditto, they returned to their favorite spot on the barn roof, where they napped contentedly, knowing they had once again saved the day.
And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new lessons, and new opportunities to embrace the simple joys of life. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of yodeling.
The End.
What scary gut feeling did you have that turned out to be true?
Many years ago, driving home one day on the Tri-State tollway.
If front by a couple of hundred feet and two lanes over on the right was a flat-bed truck carrying fork-lifts.
Three of them chained down and the forks chained upright near the cab.
No idea why, but I thought that looked really sketchy and started to slow down.
A few minutes later the truck took a ramp on the right – and the three forks fell off the truck into the left lanes.
It was like a scene from a horror movie.
I was far enough away that I was able to get in the far left lane and get out of there in a hurry.
The expressway was closed for hours after that.
Never found out if anyone was hurt.
BOMBSHELL RELEASE: Full Schlessinger Memo Advising JFK to Disband CIA
President Trump just exposed Arthur Schlesinger’s full 15-page memo calling for President John F. Kennedy (JFK) to break up the CIA in 1961. Schlesinger called the CIA a rogue “state within a state.” “No one knows how many potential problems … are being created by CIA clandestine operations.”
Schlesinger: “The contemporary CIA possesses many of the characteristics of a state within a state.” “There is no doctrine governing our conduct of clandestine operations.”
Schlesinger slammed the idea that the CIA should “fight fire with fire” to defeat communism. “If fighting fire with fire means contracting the freedoms traditionally enjoyed by Americans in order to give more freedom to the CIA, no one seriously wishes to do that.”
“CIA has effectively ‘made’ policy in many parts of the world.”
In conclusion, Schlesinger proposed “a drastic overhaul of the State Department” to rein in CIA clandestine operations.
“The State Department would be granted general clearance authority over all clandestine activity.”
Schlesinger also proposed splitting the CIA into two agencies, one for clandestine and paramilitary activities and another for information collection and analysis.
One month after JFK’s assassination, former President Harry Truman echoed Schlesinger’s fears outlined in this 1961 memo.
“There is something about the way the CIA has been functioning that is casting a shadow over our historic position.”
Truman wrote that he set up the CIA to streamline information-gathering.
“At times, the intelligence reports tended to be slanted to conform to established positions of a given department.”
But between his presidency and JFK’s, Truman witnessed a change in the CIA.
“For some time I have been disturbed by the way CIA has been diverted from its original assignment.”
“It has become an operational and at times a policy-making arm of the Government.”
“I never had any thought that when I set up the CIA that it would be injected into peacetime cloak and dagger operations.”
Truman called for the termination of the CIA’s “operational duties” and the restoration of the agency to its “original assignment as the intelligence arm of the President.”
All the documents shown above were taken from yesterday’s release of JFK Assassination files. They are in document 176-10033-10145 in the recent release: archives.gov/files/research
Hal Turner Editorial Opinion
So here we are, some 63 Years after the assassination of JFK, and only now do we see that this was a major problem way back then!
For certain, we have seen the results of CIA activities during those years, and one has to wonder (OK, it’s no wonder at all) how much of the CIA activities caused the present Russia-Ukraine war?
It is no stretch of the imagination (at all) to see the CIA caused the “Maidan Revolution” in Ukraine back in the year 2014 that forcibly overthrew Ukraine’s democratically-elected President, Viktor Yanukovych, allowing for the US and NATO to install a puppet government in Kiev.
It is no stretch of the imagination to see “their boy” Zelensky, rooting for more and more war despite losing over a million of his country’s men.
It now seems feasible to me that while President Trump is pushing to end the war, the guys a few miles to the south, in Langley, VA, are doing and saying the exact opposite.
It’s long overdue to put a stop to this.
President Trump should SHUT DOWN THE CIA for 90 days while he negotiates the end of the Ukraine war. I have a sneaky suspicion that Trump’s efforts will go suddenly faster and smoother with all CIA operations and money flows completely shut down.
If I am correct, then once the Ukraine war is settled, President Trump should have a very long talk with the top echelons at CIA and tell them flat-out, the agency is to be reconstructed very differently than it is right now. No more “rogue state within a state.” No more actions contrary to US foreign policy. No more fomenting the overthrow of governments or involving itself in foreign politics. Either that, or it is closed forever. And see how it goes.
And lest the folks over at the much larger NSA (National Security Agency) get the idea that they can cover for the closed CIA during that 90 day shutdown, make it clear to them in advance they could be shut off too — permanently.
What was the biggest lie you caught in an interview?
I assisted another department recruiting for a data analyst and visualisation role.
One internal candidate seemed particularly good so I asked him about some actual work he’d delivered with tangible benefits. He then waxed lyrical about a particular product that he’d launched, that had rave reviews and was loved universally. A product that had created demonstrable improvements in people’s work and driven some quantifiable efficiencies.
It was a bloody good thing, that much I knew. Why did I know? Because I’d made the damn thing a few years before.
Needless to say, he didn’t get through. It got referred to HR and I suspect he was fired although I don’t know that for sure.
How Walmart Embarrassed Itself in China
When you walk into a restaurant, what ‘signs’ tip you off that it is a high or low quality eatery?
I was working in Monterrey, Mexico, for a week and a bit.
And did not have a car. I got around by taxi, or foot, or the odd ride from others I worked with.
But I like experiences. And had several times enjoyed tacos from a street vendor, 5 for $1 (one Canadian dollar’s worth of the local currency).
So one day, when taking a late lunch, I went to the place directly across the road.
The neighbourhood was a large totally industrial area. But for a small Cantina a couple of hundred yards up the road, and a big empty plot of land across the road, a part of which was used as a baseball diamond.
On our side of this field, sat a lone small camper trailer. On bricks.
Beside it was a frame with tarps creating an “inside”, with a few tables. Grass floor. Shade and a breeze.
The “tables” were discarded wooden cable spools, the kind that hold thousands of feet of telephone cable.
The chairs were your classic folding, aluminum frame lawn chairs with the 2″ webbing woven at 90 degrees.
The meal, including can of pop was three bucks. And tasty. Chicken something.
Quaintly, there were a couple of free range chickens pecking around at my feet.
The food was plenty. And tasty.
And if I guess right, the chicken was very fresh.
The people very nice.
I could eat there again.
But…
… when I went back to the office, a couple of guys asked what I had done for lunch.
I said “Ate at the place across the road”.
They were shocked. Stunned.
“That’s for the ‘workers’ you don’t eat there!!”.
Unsafe?? Too ‘low class’?? (Like I would care if that was the case). Just too cheap??
I don’t know.
But just in case… I didn’t eat there again. (I wasn’t there for too many days).
A sign… “locals wont eat there… and tell you not to”… maybe don’t eat there.
Chickens? Wire-spool-tables? Tarp walls? I was OK with all those things. Never had tomorrows lunch eating its lunch at my feet before. I thought it was fun.
Maybe I’m weird.
Shorpy
What’s the most incompetent instance of bullying you’ve ever seen?
Public school, grade… 3? 4 maybe?
The smallest (and also tragically smelliest, he was a poor kid from a poor family) guy in my class thought that picking a fight with me would elevate him to second least popular kid in class (my position at the time).
I wasn’t MASSIVELY larger than him, but I was OBVIOUSLY larger, and had grown up on an organic farm, working hard and eating good food.
He chose his moment carefully, tackled me from behind and knocked me into the sandpit (a considerate thing to do, in retrospect).
The struggle was brief. I put him in a headlock in a few seconds and tried to de-escalate. I asked him if he was gonna calm down, if I could let him go etc…
I was forced to keep him in that headlock for the better part of lunch, probably twenty minutes at least.
He eventually gave up.
This actually led to him apologizing to me (and me to him). We became good friends for several years after that, he was a really nice kid. His family situation never improved, so part of coming over to my house for sleepovers involved sending him home with food after doing whatever laundry he brought.
Lost track of him, hope he’s doing okay.
Sarah’s case
Submitted into Contest #288 in response to: Start or end your story with someone standing in the rain.… view prompt
M.R. Simon
If you’re looking for a Dick Tracy-like private eye, I’m not your man. Fighting I can handle. I’d even say I love it. I always carry my Beretta handgun and am ready to take it out. I do wear a raincoat only because, since the big climate change, it’s always fucking raining. It’s a pain in the ass.
I don’t really get a day off. In my kind of work there is always something going on. Like today.
I’m at home, chilling in my living room watching the weather channel, and thinking about doing a Roxy, when a guy passes by my window, falling head first to his death. My cheap, open space loft is on the eleventh floor. The building is located in a poor neighborhood, which is about the best I can afford. Here we’re used to seeing dead bodies. Last week a body stayed on the sidewalk for two days after getting shot in the head.
So, I should go downstairs to make sure the guy didn’t fall on my car, a vintage 94 Chrysler. I assume he’s one of those people, craving the likes, who wants to boost his social media score. Society has lost its fucking mind. All these social media kings and queens make me sick to my stomach. All kids pushing boundaries and putting themselves in danger just to be the next best thing. Social Media production is no longer a one person job with a mobile device filming himself. Now they have production teams and editing teams behind them. It’s a business nowadays. The new trend is live murder or suicide, anything that will get more likes.
This brings us to my new case. When I open the door to go down to see if my Chrysler’s okay, there’s a girl standing in front of my door. She tells me that a social media queen is missing, and it’s a complete mystery. Her social media name is Sarah Shine, but her real name is Sarah Sanders. She’s off the grid and nobody knows why. Probably some kids know something or someone has a last video file of her. It’s her younger sister who’s telling me all this shit while she stands before me, and blocks the way to the elevator. I don’t care about those young web stars, but this kid won’t let me pass. She shoves the last video of her sister in my face. In the video she’s petting a little cat, and she speaks about the cat like it’s her fucking pussy. You bet this is going viral on some channel. Her followers are mostly old pigs over sixty. Sis thinks she might be in danger, maybe kept hostage by one of her followers.
She tells me, she found me on the old refurbish Pentium III illegally plugged onto the dos web, the old and slow internet. Years ago I put up an ad on the old cop site. She bats those big watery eyes at me, so I take the case. The Chrysler is fine, the guy fell about twenty feet away from it. He’s still face down on the sidewalk in a pond of warm blood.
I drive while she gives directions to her parents’ house. One hand on the wheel and the other on my $10 cup of coffee. My window is cracked open which makes a whistling sound as I drive. I can feel the tension rising and we both stop talking. If I close up the window, the car will fog up with all this fucking rain. The ventilation is shit in this vintage Chrysler. The whistling gets louder the faster I drive. It has the effect of a countdown with the tension getting higher. And then she lifts her mini skirt a little to show me her see-through panties.
“I can pay you with my body if you want.” she tells me this while looking right at me.
I have trouble keeping my eyes on the road. I can tell it’s not her first time offering sex. It’s reality these days, jobs are rare, money is hard to get. A lot of young kids do this, guys and girls. But there’s no fucking way I’m gonna use a 18 year old girl as a fuck doll, I respect myself too much for that.
Her parents seem to be good people, not rich, but honest workers who never stole anything besides an internet connection. I have difficulty looking straight at her father. After all, I have just seen his daughter’s panties.
It takes 45 minutes of asking the right questions but I finally get the full picture.
The father is sick, and needs $250,000 for his operation. His daughter, Sarah, is insured for one million dollars. Maybe the parents are behind this mystery. Ever since Sarah is missing, her social account has gone sky high with likes and followers. Flowers are piling up in front of the parents house. The father tells me he doesn’t have the money to pay me, and looks at his younger daughter, and suggests she could help me. Yeah, I know what you mean daddy. The father is selling one daughter to find the other one.
Back in the car with Baby Sis, I make myself clear. She’s pissed and slams the door as she gets out with her panties in her hand. I go back home to stalk Sarah’s social account. There are loads of interesting comments, but one is more interesting than the others. A guy wrote that he thinks he knows where she went. Billythestud69, Billy Blanco, I go check him out.
It takes six knocks on Billy’s door, before he answers. He looks too ripped to cooperate, but he does. He tells me that he heard there is a place where girls can go to get fucked hard,and get paid big cash. Because her sister tried so hard to get my dick out of my pants, it wouldn’t surprise me if this was Sarah’s thing. Billy adds that the place moves from one building to another so they don’t get caught. He sure knows a lot for a kid. On the other hand, Sarah’s social media friends debunk Billy’s theory. They say she wouldn’t go anywhere without her mobile device.
All this research has made me hungry. So, I go to dinner. My favorite place to eat is Dine For a Dime, an old airstream trailer parked at the side of the road in a not-so-great neighborhood. It’s the perfect place for nightcrawlers, like me. The guys on the force all come here, even the retired ones.
I’m about to sit at a table and say hi to my favorite waitress when I see a young girl sitting alone at the bar. I have nothing to lose, so I go sit next to this good looking blond. I order what I usually order; the soup du jour with french toast and coffee. She’s like an open book. She doesn’t stop talking about herself, like all the kids of her generation. I don’t get a chance to introduce myself, before I’m ready to pass out from boredom. Then she starts talking about a secret members-only club she desperately wants to get in. She wants to boost her media shit with sex. But she doesn’t know what it’s called. Now I have to find that club.
I have to go see my tipster. I wonder if she knows about this club of people paying for sex. And maybe she has heard something about Sarah Shine. Her name is Natalia Nikityna. She speaks English with a broad accent and rolls her Rs. She’s a web podcaster and trend followers, not that I understand what she does exactly. But if there’s a new trend she’s the one who will know about it.
There is only one phone booth left in town and that is my outside office. This is where I make all of my phone calls. The places where Natalia wants to meet are always awkward and weird. When she answers her phone, she tells me to meet her in the beauty shop while she gets her hair dyed blond, like Sarah. She knows Sarah is missing, but has nothing on it. But she does know about the club, she wrote an article about them last month, she says. The group is called GFG GROUP INC, a real estate investment group.
The library is not the only place that has internet, but it’s the fastest. I know it’s a cliché but the librarian working there is very nice looking. It doesn’t take me long, as long as I keep my eyes on the screen, to find the GFG HQ address and all the houses they have for sale. It’s weird, the place is located downtown where nobody does business anymore. The last business moved from there a long time ago. It’s a bad place even for me.
Downtown is deserted, we all call this place “The Zone”. Tonight it’s just me and some stray dogs. There are no cars in front of the HQ building which looks abandoned. I think the real office is probably in a nicer part of the town. Through the front window, I can see a dim light. Someone is in one of the back offices. Time to find the back door.
Behind the building a luxury car is parked close to the wall, like someone wants to hide it from the street. He must have fucking big balls to leave a car like this to the mercy of anybody walking by. The back door is not quite shut, so I go in. The hall is empty, but I hear sounds coming from further up the hall. Just in case I take my Beretta out. I wear my gun at my hip like a cowboy. I always loved the western movies. The colt 45 is my favorite gun. I came close to owning one once. It’s the reason why I became a cop in the first place. Western were part of my childhood and I wanted to ride a horse and fire a gun at the same time.
As I walk further into the building, it sounds like someone is moaning, possibly through a gag. I also hear two or three men’s voices, Maybe four. I stop at the door, my gun in hand, safety off. Inside the room are three naked guys and a naked girl, who is tied to a table, with all three holes filled. That would explain the gagging sounds. When I tell the three wooden dicks to move away and face the wall the girl starts giving me shit about stopping her sex party. Apparently she was about to cum. I ask her name and no she’s not Sarah Shine, even if she has blond hair. So, I ask her about Sarah Shine. Without trying to cover herself up she tells me she saw a video of Sarah with Billy, billythestud69. Now I have to go back to Billy’s house. I leave the GFG group to their party, but I think the party’s over.
Back at Billy’s house, a mobile home in a trailer park, the lights are off, nobody seems to be home. It’s late in the evening, I assume they are sleeping. So, I decide to knock anyway. Billy comes to the door, he looks like I feel. I ask him to come in my car, so we can talk.
I tell him I know that he knows where Sarah is. So he spills it all. He fell for the oldest trick in the world. She’s in his parents cottage outside of town. The cottage is in the middle of a cornfield. The only place where you can be away from all those dumbass dickheads. It’s an hour drive from town.
The cornfield takes me back to my grandparents’ cottage. I spent all my childhood summers there. One summer my grandfather went out in the cornfield and blew his head off with his Colt. We never knew why he did it. I was in the field with him, he was holding my hand when he shot himself. I was too young to understand what happened to him, I just saw the blood everywhere. He had said the Colt was supposed to be mine once he passed away, but I never knew what happened to the gun after that.
It’s as dark as a monkey’s butt. So, I shine the headlights on the front of the house. Outside, it’s calm and quiet. Besides the endless rain hitting the roof, there is no sound. Billy unlocks the door. When he opens the door I can see a blond girl sitting at the kitchen table in complete darkness. Though the headlights shine all the way to the kitchen, I can’t see her face, only the light reflecting off her blond hair. When she hears us walking in she turns her head and I see the freckles on her face. It’s her. I finally found Sarah Shine.
She wanted to vanish to increase the number of fans and followers of her story. And more likes would mean more money, in a week of publicity she went from 150,000 followers to 1.1 million followers, she will eventually have the money to save her dad. But even in our shitty world it’s illegal to fake a disappearance or a kidnapping. I have to report her, she might do time, or not, I don’t care. I’m not here to judge, my job is done.
Behind the rain clouds the sun is up, the night’s over. Going home, tired and wet.
Ten-four, I’m out.
Why don’t we respect the right of other people?
In the past week, Republicans have scraped away the story of the [Black] Tuskagee Airmen, removed any mention of Black, Latin or female soldiers/heroes from the Arlington National Cemetery website, have gotten rid of Black History Month and have eliminated Native American Ira Hayes from the Iwo Jima monument. They don’t want niggers, spics or bitches to get recognition.
I will make a wager – the new aircraft carrier, the Doris Miller, named for the Black hero of Pearl Harbor will be renamed to the “Donald J. Trump”.
For Republicans, only one group has rights – White Men. Everyone else is subservient or irrelevant. Republican Nazis don’t respect the rights of other people because they don’t even see them as people. They see them as “Untermenschen” or “sub-human”. That’s because Republicans are Nazis.
Bloody Mary Chicken Creole
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup vegetable oil
- 1 (3 pound) fryer, cut into serving pieces
- 1 cup chopped onions
- 1/2 cup chopped green bell peppers
- 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 1/2 cups bloody Mary mix
- 1 teaspoon chopped garlic
- 2 bay leaves
- 1/2 teaspoon salt (or more to taste)
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne (or more to taste)
- 1/2 cup dry white wine
- 2 (10 1/2 ounce) cans beef consommé
- 3 tablespoons chopped parsley
Instructions
- In a large heavy pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat and sauté the chicken, turning to brown on both sides.
- Remove the chicken and set aside.
- Add the onions and bell pepper and sauté for about five minutes, or until they are soft.
- Reduce the heat to medium.
- Add the flour and stir constantly for about 5 minutes.
- Add the bloody Mary mix, garlic, bay leaves, salt, cayenne, wine and consommé. Simmer for 15 to 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Add the chicken. Cover and simmer for about 45 minutes, or until the chicken is tender.
- Add the parsley and serve over rice.
Is Teslas sale going down in Europe fast?
Yes. But it isn’t for the reasons that CNN tells you.
My Dad’s closest friend is an immigrant from Germany. His cousin is named Christian and lives near Munich. He works for a company that manufactures and tests auto parts. He tests parts and is part of a team that evaluates and approves auto parts. He gets paid to drive for four hours in the Bavarian Alps testing car parts. He also sounds exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger, which I absolutely love.
Anyway.
A couple weeks ago I had a chance to talk to him (remotely). While we were chatting I asked him about why Tesla sales are down in Europe.
He gave me a long answer. Like 10 minute explanation.
He never once mentioned Musk.
See here is the thing: Tesla’s are shit cars. And they’re expensive shit cars. He knows this because he makes car parts that end up in BMWs, VWs, and a few Renaults. He sent me this article and blog. Both are dated December 2023.
https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/tesla-musk-steering-suspension/
You’re Supposed To Be Glad Your Tesla Is A Brittle Heap Of Junk | Defector
Read these articles. These are not one offs or a failed part. These are systemic problems with the cars.
And Christian told me that in Germany they sell for 60,000+ Euros.
BMW’s I5 was launched last summer. It is similarly priced, but unlike Teslas the wheels don’t fall off when you’re doing 180 on the autobahn. Most Germans see this is a rather important feature of their BMW.
VW has hybrids that sell for less than half of what Teslas do. And their axels can actually support the weight of the cars in question.
So Germans can support a German made car, spend less, and feel secure that their car door won’t fall off while they’re going 150 on the autobahn. All three of these are key selling points.
And in case you think I’m being flippant. All three of the issues are actually reported in the articles I posted.
Spontaneous combustion is also something BMWs are not famous for.
Tesla Fire: Digital record of Tesla fire incidents
This is only the first issue.
Teslas have almost zero resale value. A Tesla bought for 70,000 Euros in 2020 will get less than 10,000 as a trade in item. That car loses 15,000 Euros a year in value.
In general EV cars suffer on the used car market because of the cost of replacing the battery, but Teslas are almost worthless after 5 years because you have the battery issue and the wheels falling off issue.
That is a major consideration for people.
He also pointed out (anecdotally now) that because of these issues Teslas fill up junkyards faster than any other cars, and their batteries are an environmental nightmare. He is of the opinion that Tesla is simply trading one kind of environmental damage for another, though that is just his opinion.
Though anecdotal, a quick google search tells me he is probably right about some of this. From January 2023:
Hundreds of Brand New Teslas Piling Up in Junk Yards
and from earlier this year, and from a more official source.
Brand-New Teslas Are Showing Up in Junkyards
They break down a lot, are prohibitively expensive to repair, and have no resale value. So people scrap them with less than 10,000 miles/16,000 kms on them.
After he explained this all to me he told me that this is fairly common knowledge in Germany and Austria, and assumed it was fairly common knowledge elsewhere in Europe. He pointed out that Germans have never liked American cars anyway. Too big and too cheaply made. Teslas are the living stereotype.
This is a man who has driven every German car made in the last 50 years. Seriously, he has taken a Trabant for a test push. He has also driven most European and Japanese cars, and a few American ones.
He flat out said that Teslas were in the bottom five of any cars he has driven, and he has driven several models of them. But he did concede that Trabants were worse. So I guess Teslas have that going for them.
Though I might suggest that they will ultimately belch out the same amount of smoke. Teslas just do it all in one go.
That was his explanation.
After he finished explaining this to me I did ask about Musks’ politics. I asked him what effect he thought the Nazi salute and the AfD interviews had.
He smiled and said “it didn’t help.”
well, promise fulfilled MM… the pictures of women at the start of each post are indeed more proportional, and not to go ‘Total Recall’ , are more of the ‘demure, slightly slutty’ of the kind more appealing to my visual apparatus interpretation of beauty. Thank you for avoiding the disproportionate grotesqueness of previous months…..
Changing the subject abruptly, any DC interviews on the ‘horizon’, to help in dealing with intense and at time chaotic energies we are subject to, in a more harmonious posture?
Cheerful Love GrizzlyBear hug
unuk