When I was a boy we lived in a small town on a river. It was nice. It was a great place to grow up as a boy. Oh I would walk along the river, and the railroad tracks. I would fish. I would climb the hills and explore the jumbles of rocks in the woods. I would stumble across old dilapidated buildings and have adventures.
As a man now, as an adult, I well remember one of the houses. It was abandoned intact. All the furniture was in place, and it had been abandoned for about 10 years without anyone visiting it. Eventually my friends started breaking in, and in no time it was terrorized and vandalized by kids. Too sad.
In the dining room was a bay window with a cushion. But when you lifted the cushion up, there was a little storage area, and all you had to do was open up the wooden hatch and peer inside. And inside were folded American flags in a triangle. Now, this is the way that you fold American flags. No big question there, but when a soldier, airman or sailor dies, the widow or partner is provided with a flag.
There were 14 flags there.
What a tragedy. No wonder such a large house, with multiple living suites, and a bunch of bedrooms were so empty. When the men died off, the wife remained in this big house all alone. The absence of the men of her life must have been terribly lonely.
Can you imagine?
Yet another tale of family tragedy uncovered in my youth.
Today…
Iran Tells Britain: Allowing U.S. To Attack Iran from British Bases Makes Britain “a party to the conflict”
Iran Foreign Minister Araghchi says letting U.S. use British bases, even defensively, counts as “participation in aggression.”
Seems like the ambiguous posture of Starmer won’t work anymore.
Araghchi stated “Such actions will be recorded in the history of relations between the two countries.” A clear escalation in rhetoric as Iran signals it may treat allied support as direct involvement.
Will Iran fire missiles at British Bases? On Cyprus? In the UK itself? Both?
In Europe, how do hospitals make a profit if people can get healthcare for free, and doesn’t that make the hospital out of business if nobody pays?
Jesus Christ, capitalism has fucked you people up so badly. Hospitals do not exist to make fucking profit. They exist to provide healthcare. Only in the US are hospitals a business. We don’t need them to generate money, we need them to generate healthy citizens.
These hospitals don’t need to turn a profit, because they are funded by taxpayer dollars. They don’t need to make money, their expenses are already paid, and they don’t need to turn a profit, because healthcare should not be a for-profit business.
How did China learn from Russia’s aircraft carrier program when building its own, Liaoning?
Question: How did China learn from Russia’s aircraft carrier program when building its own, Liaoning?
Answer:
Well, I will just tell a bit of an interest short story.
At the front of Kuznetsov class carrier Liaoning, there is actually a ship based retail store for the sailors:
https://kknews.cc/zh-my/military/5zxzq62.html
Don’t be surprised, all major capital ships, such as carriers have this sort of thing, they have long deployment and they have all sorts of accommodations onboard. For example, the link below is for a Nimitz class carrier’s onboard retail store:
These stores are actually quite important for morale, but the one on board Liaoning is actually…a bit too big. And it happened for a reason.
Back in late 2000s, where China got the empty hull of the former Kuznetsov class carrier Varyag, the Chinese went over the ships (along with design drawings received from Ukraine) thoroughly and they greatly dislike one part of the design of Kuznetsov, which are the 12 P-700 Granit antiship missiles positioned at the front of the vessel.
The Chinese can understand why the Russians put those there, it’s because the Russian navy was never that big and without dedicated missile cruisers, the ships have to “multi-function”, so Kuznetsov class carriers really isn’t a dedicated aircraft carrier, it also carries very heavy missile payload with them, such as the 12 P-700 Granit antiship missiles.
The Chinese, however, has vastly different naval fleets, both in size and function.
While monster missile cruiser like type 055 were not yet in service back in 2010, many newer Chinese missile cruiser and destroyers were already in design and testing phase. So to the Chinese, missiles taking up valuable aircraft carrying space on the carrier is bad trade off.
It is much better for nations with large fleets (such as China and US) to have carrier dedicated on carrying aircraft and leave the heavy missiles to cruisers and destroyers.
But there is a problem with modifying Varyag to Liaoning—————-while the Chinese can remove the P-700 launching tubes, the space can’t be fully converted into aircraft storage/launching space, because doing so will compromise the structure integrity of the vessel.
So what the Chinese did was only covert part of the space and leave the rest, which is used as the retail store mentioned at the start of this post.
And when China was building its second carrier, the 002 Shandong, the ship structure is redesigned and the front portion of the space can be now properly utilized.
So despite looking similar from blurry pictures, Shandong can carry 48 winged aircraft instead of the 30 winged aircraft on 001 Liaoning or the Russian Kuznetsov.
Fun fact, when Russia recently (as of July 2025) announced that they are cancelling the repair attempt on Kuznetsov, there are people proposing (on Chinese websites) that China should buy it and just repair it as a supplementary to China’s current naval forces.
And my answer to those discussions is always no.
Because first and foremost, China already has success with the EM catapult on 003 Fujian, which allows heavier aircraft to launched at faster speed, so there is no point to build anymore ski-jump carriers.
Second, even if China wants to somehow build another ski-jump carrier, they will want to use Shandong as a template instead of a Kuznetsov class hull. Because the Shandong hull design allows for much more combat aircraft to be carried and with all the 055 cruisers around, there is little point for Chinese carrier to waste their space on antiship missiles.
Chicken Tenders over Pasta with Creamy Slow-Roasted Tomato Sage Sauce
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients
Slow-Roasted Tomatoes
- 6 Italian plum tomatoes
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Chicken
- 1 1/2 pounds chicken tenders
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon butter
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Creamy Slow-Roasted Tomato Sauce
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 medium onion, diced
- 2 ounces prosciutto, chopped
- 1 (16 ounce) bag frozen peas, thawed
- 3/4 cup heavy cream
- 2 teaspoons chopped fresh sage
- 1 (16 ounce) box spaghetti
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
- 2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
Instructions
- Heat oven to 250 degrees F.
Slow-Roasted Tomatoes
- Slice tomatoes in half lengthwise.
- Place cut side up on baking sheet; sprinkle with salt and pepper.
- Place in oven and roast for 2 1/2 to 3 hours. (Tomatoes may be made ahead and stored in refrigerator for up to three days.)
Chicken
- In large skillet, melt olive oil and butter over medium high heat.
- Season chicken with salt and pepper.
- Add chicken to skillet and sauté, turning, until browned, about 3 minutes per side.
- Remove chicken from pan, cover and reserve.
Creamy Slow-Roasted Tomato Sauce
- To same skillet used to cook chicken, add one tablespoon olive oil.
- Add diced onion and sauté over low heat until soft, about 10 minutes.
- Add prosciutto and sauté for 30 seconds.
- Add slow-roasted tomatoes and break up with back of wooden spoon. Heat through for 30 seconds.
- Add cream; remove sauce from heat.
- Cook pasta according to package directions.
- When pasta is almost done, reheat sauce over low heat.
- Add peas and sage to sauce; stir to heat well.
- When pasta is cooked, drain but do not rinse.
- Add pasta to sauce in skillet and toss well to combine.
- Add cheese and parsley; toss again.
- Place on serving platter and top with chicken.
Nutrition
Per serving: 710 calories; 25g fat; 11g saturated fat; 75g carbohydrate; 8g fiber; 8g sugars; 44g protein
Recipe and photo used with permission from: National Chicken Council
A Sunday Roasting
Written in response to: “Write about a character who has to grapple with something completely alien to them.“
Chris Campbell
“Yeah, sort of.”
“Where’d they build it?”
“It’s not something you can see. It’s mostly underground. But lately, it’s up in space.”
“They’ve got motorways in space, like the Jetsons?”
“No, they’ve got satellites in stationary orbit that provide access to the superhighway. It’s like a big net of communication systems.”
“So, ‘ow does wots-is-face at thingy get his rockets past ‘em?”
“You mean, Elon Musk at Space X?”
“Yeah, that’s him. How does he get his rockets through the net up there?”
“It’s not like they’re connected to each other, Grandad. Well, they are connected, but not like a fishing net. The connection is invisible.”
“It’s magic, then.”
“No, it’s science. Bloody hell, Grandad!”
“I’m just pullin’ yer plonker, mate. I’m well aware of wot’s up there and all around and underneath us. I mean, my whole garden shed is proof of that, full of useless items bought on eBay.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
I went to a séance, once – in the seventies.”
“No, Grandad, I said science, not séance. Are your hearing aids working?”
“I was sittin’ at this round table holdin’ hands wif this young woman, who was wearing a scarf round her ‘ead. It had a big blue stone in the middle of it, like some Sikh magician. She kept repeating, Is anyone there, is anyone there? Like she was in the dark and had just ‘eard strange voices. I think she must ‘ave been blind, coz the room was fuckin’ packed with people. Poor love. I felt sorry for her, coz no-one answered. Rude gits. They just couldn’t deal with her disability, I suppose. They all looked shit scared of her, like if they muttered anything, she’d scream at ‘em. Then, all of a sudden, the table started to rise up on its own and this bell kept ringing. You know, the type that calls for a butler in all them posh tv shows. I thought, blimey! The Earth’s lost its gravity. So, I jumped on top of it to weigh it down and some geezer hidin’ underneath yelled out such a torrent of foul language, I stood up and left. I mean, what fuckin’ dead spirit wants to hear all that, hey? I know I didn’t, and I’m alive! Still, came home wif a nice souvenir, but your Gran didn’t appreciate me ringing it every time I wanted a cuppa.”
“Grandad?”
“Yes, my son.”
“You went rambling again.”
“Did I? Right. Must be getting’ old. So, tell me more about this smartphone of yours. Can it add?”
“It can.”
“Can it play the radio?”
“Yes, it’s called streaming music.”
“Screaming music?”
“No… Stop making fun of me.”
“Nothin’ but screaming music, these days. If you can call it that. In my day, it was love songs and dancing and fingerin’ Jane Snipper in the back alley of the dance hall.”
“Erm, Grandad. Too much info.”
“Wot, you never fing…”
“Not something I feel comfortable discussing, Grandad.”
“So, wot do you young people do these days to get your jollies?”
“Let’s get back on topic, please.”
“We never ‘ad the luxury or the readies to rent a hotel room.”
“That’s not…”
“Nah, it was either a bunk up in the local cemetery or a quickie in a toilet. You know, every time I ‘ave a sit-down, it brings back memories of those days. Who’d of thought taking a shit could be such a turn on.”
“…You can also play games on it.”
“Wot, the khazi?”
“No, Grandad. My smartphone.”
“Chess?”
“Yes.”
“How long do you ‘ave to wait for the other person to make his move?”
“It’s against a computer. It’s an App you download onto your smartphone.”
“Wot’s an App?”
“It’s short for Application. Like a computer program on your phone.”
“Why can’t you just say, Application, then? Wot’s with all this shortenin’ of words these days. Your generation too lazy to pronounce them? In my day, an Application was something you did to yerself in school.”
“Do I need to know what you did to yourself in school?”
“It was the practice of applying yourself to your school subjects. The teacher’s reports at the end of each term would be filled wif the word. Reggie could apply himself more, or Reginald’s application to his studies would be improved if he applied himself to them with an application of interest. I suppose in today’s lazy language, that would sound like gibberish.
“That’s your opinion.”
“Nah, mate. That’s my Applied philosophy. Or is it, my App philosophy?”
“Okay, you’ve made your point.”
“Can you play twenty-one on that thing?”
“You mean, Blackjack?”
“Yeah, but in your Woke world, ain’t that politically incorrect to call it that name?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, you’re wot’s called a child of Generation Z, are you not?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I’m a fuckin’ Baby Boomer, Tommo. We started all this generation-naming nonsense. Well, our parents did. Post war, cold nights, no telly, nothin’ else to do but bonk, and that’s how I came abowt.”
“It’s strange thinking about people doing it back then.”
“It’s even stranger thinkin’ ‘bowt your mum and dad doin’ it. I mean, I bet you don’t look at me and yer Gran and think that at some point in our lives we went at it like rabbits, do ya.”
“Can we change the subject, please.”
“I mean, I suppose every generation thinks they invented sex. I know we did. It was so popular, there was a three-month wait at the library to borrow that Karma Sootra book.”
“It’s pronounced, Kama Sutra, Grandad.”
“Oh, so you’ve read it, then?”
“It’s everywhere on the Internet, Grandad. They just call it other things these days, like PornHub.”
“…Not read that one. Must be new. No, the whole topic of sex instruction was so popular in my day, that even WH Smith sold out of the paperback version of the book. Some bright enterprising young artist in Peckham went and copied a few pages in his own style and sold them in the Exchange and Mart classifieds newspaper for a couple of quid apiece. Made a small fortune, then went on to create his own magazine. I think it was called Forum, or sumfin’ like that. Full of saucy letters and articles. Very little photos, but when I was in school, there was a boy that used to rent copies out to his classmates at lunchtime. The teachers could never figure out why there was always a big queue outside the boys’ toilets every lunch. Mr. Boslan used to comment, sayin’ What good is a weak waterworks when there’s a war on? An army marches on its stomach, not its bladder. Poor bugger suffered from shell shock; I think. I mean, the war had been over for twenty-five years. I dunno. Maybe, he was just a fucking nutter, instead.”
“You’re rambling again, Grandad.”
“Yeah, the Karma Sootra was a big deal to the sexual revolution. Everyone wanted to try out the infamous position Fourteen – the Dhenuka.”
“What was Position fourteen?”
“Just good ol’ fashioned Doggy Style, Tommo. Up and in from behind! After all, we’re all just animals, aren’t we?”
“Sorry I asked.”
“Embarassed you, ‘ave I?”
“It’s one thing talking to people your own age about it, then there’s…”
“Heh! Yeah! Yer Grandad.”
“Some things are best left sacred.”
“Then you don’t want to hear abowt the time your gran and me walked in on yer mum and dad in the…”
“NO! Thank you. Let’s move on, shall we? I don’t know how we got here, but I was trying to explain to you what my smartphone can do.”
“Look, Tommo. I’m very much up-to-date wif technology gadgets. What I ‘ave a hard time gettin’ my head around, is figurin’ out those little symbols on the oven controls. I mean, if anyone wants proof of alien life, they just ‘ave to look at the symbols on a modern oven. All I want to do is switch it on, set the temperature, and stick a roast in there.”
“Don’t you have the manual?”
“It’s all in Chinese!”
“That’s unusual. Most manuals are written in several different languages.”
“Not this one, Tommo. Can you read Mandarin?”
“Where did you buy the oven?”
“Where I buy everything else, Tommo. On eBay. No, sorry. I didn’t get this one on eBay. I got it from that – oh, wot’s it called? It’s named after the flying carpet bloke.”
“You mean, Ali Baba?”
“Yeah, that’s it. But it was from the faster one.”
“Ali Express.”
“Yep, that’s the one! Although, I never realised Ali Baba was Chinese. I thought he was from Persia or someplace like that.”
“He was, Grandad. I used to like reading Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves as a boy.”
“Fuckin’ Chinese will steal anything and copy it.”
“That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it, Grandad?”
“You know, in the Eighties, when Ronald Reagan was runnin’ around the White house in America, he banned the sale of any technology to the Chinese. You know why?”
“You’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you.”
“Because, he knew they would copy it, mass produce it, and sell it back to ‘em at discounted bulk prices. I mean, back before then, their biggest export was fucking tea and fortune cookies, weren’t it.”
“That’s a generalisation, Grandad… and a little racist.”
“Wot!? Am I wrong?”
“It’s how you explain it.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot that you are a child of the Woke generation. How ‘ave we gotten to the point of un-labelling everything. We can call someone Chinese, but we can’t say Chinaman. I mean, it’s getting to where we can’t call ourselves English anymore. It’s those people west of France or East of Wales, or South of Scotland.”
“You’re being ridiculous now, Grandad.”
“You know wot’s ridiculous? These fucking symbols on the oven.”
“Okay, let me see. Yeah, I can see how someone like you could get confused.”
“Someone like me?”
“You know, the bigoted East of Wales person.”
“That’s facetiousness, Tommo. I thought I taught you better.”
“You did, Grandad. That was just toned down sarcasm.”
“Cheeky little fucker aren’t you. Keep it up and I’ll tell you about your mum and dad in the…”
“Okay, okay! Let’s look at these symbols, shall we?”
“Thank you, Tommo. You’re a good lad. I’ve got the Sunday roast ready to go, okay? Your Gran left me explicit instructions to have it ready by the time she gets back from visiting her sister. Now, wot’s that one with the line going across the bottom of the square that makes it look like a grumpy face?”
“That means it’s the bottom heating element.”
“And the one that looks like it, but with an added line at the top, making it look like he has to take a shit?”
“Top and bottom element.”
“The one wif the line at the bottom, two sad eyes, and a third sideways eye above them, like a dot on an Indian woman’s forehead?”
“It means bottom element and fan assisted. The dot you’re referring to – by the way – is called, a Bindi, Grandad. Traditionally worn to indicate that an Indian woman is married. Although, these days, it’s used as a beauty mark.”
“Bindi? I thought that was Crocodile Dundee’s daughter.”
“No, her father was Steve Irwin, Grandad. The Crocodile Hunter.”
“Wot abowt this one? The puff of air looking symbol below and to the right of the fan-assisted one? See? I’m learning!”
“That means steam is used to assist cooking. Probably good for cooking your roast.”
“That’s the one, then! Even if it looks like a cartoon fart. Right, the rest of the tutorial can wait. Now, how do I set the temperature?”
“Just turn the knob on the right to the preferred setting.”
“Wot’s the preferred setting?”
“Dunno, Granddad.”
“I can see who does all the cooking in your house.”
“I live alone.”
“Exactly! You need a live-in girlfriend, mate.”
“You mean that I should get a girlfriend to move in, so she can do all the cooking?”
“I’m just saying.”
“I can cook, you know.”
“Then wot’s the temperature setting for a Sunday roast, Bachelor of the Decade?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve got a smartphone, yes? Let’s see how smart it is. Look it up.”
“Okay… SIRI!”
“Wot are you doing?”
“I’m asking my phone.”
“Too many words for your clipped generational existence to type it in?”
“…What is the perfect temperature to set for a Sunday roast?”
“Wot she say?”
“She says, here are some links to What is the perfect temperature to set for a Sunday roast.”
“You know, Tommo. I sometimes think that we’re all just aliens living in an alien world, using alien technology that is alien to common sense. Forget the search. Don’t look any further, your Gran’s left a note.”
“What did she say?”
“Push the button with the image of a turkey on it.”
“Ah, for fuck’s sake. That was too easy.”
“Too right, Tommo. You took the words right out of my mouth. Fancy a pint down the local while this is cooking?”
“How do you know how long to cook it for?”
“Your Gran’s left a link to a web site that monitors the oven. Says here, that it’s connected to the Internet with a camera inside and will alert you when it’s time to take it out.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Yeah, Turns out the fucking Chinese seem to have improved all that technology they stole. Clever little buggers, aren’t they.”
“Grandad! Now you’re assuming that they’re all small.”
“I’ll leave that to the statisticians, Tommo… Now, put that address in your smartphone and let’s get down the pub for a Sunday pint.”
“Don’t you have a smartphone, Grandad?”
“Wot do I wan’t wif a smartphone, Tommo? Conversation killer, mate. Nah, you bring yours and I promise not to mention what we caught your mum and dad doing in the living room.”
“I’m not listening, I’m not listening.”
“Yeah, that’s the trouble with Gen Z. Too busy talking…”
Second Marine amphibious group is now heading to the Middle East; U.S. Gearing-Up for GROUND INVASION
A second Marine amphibious group is now heading to the Middle East.
The USS Boxer, USS Comstock, and USS Portland carrying the 11th Marine Expeditionary Unit just departed the west coast.
That’s 4,400+ Marines on two amphibious groups converging on the Gulf simultaneously.
U.S. Gears Up for Ground Invasion of Iran:
The U.S. is accelerating the deployment of approximately 8,000 additional Marines and sailors to the Middle East.
In a show of rapid deployment, the USS Boxer Amphibious Ready Group is arriving ahead of schedule with roughly 4,000 Marines and sailors.
They will link up with the USS Tripoli group, already traveling from Japan with 5,000 personnel.
The combined force of six amphibious ships will increase regional force strength by approximately 8,000 personnel.
There’s no point deploying Marines to the region unless the U.S. intends to launch a full-scale ground invasion of Iran.
Their probable objective is to secure the Strait of Hormuz and seize control of Kharg Island.
The conflict is poised to escalate sharply in the coming weeks.
Is China as powerful as people think?
Due to what I do, I will focus more on economic and financial When I visited China in 2007, for the first time, I assumed its rise was unstoppable.
In 2011, when I relocated to China, I continued to think the same for a couple of years.
Then, suddenly, I started to notice something. In Shanghai, almost every wealthy Chinese person I met either already had a foreign passport and/or residency, or wanted one.
Every time I came back to China, the “foreigner lane” in the airport was full of Mainland Chinese who were coming in on foreign passports, as China doesn’t accept dual passport.
Working in wealth management, I also saw how many wealthy Chinese wanted to diversify into overseas investments, and send their kids to university.
Many of these wealthy Chinese also laughed at the official GDP figures being reported in the media, even if they weren’t overtly anti the CCP in all cases.
In comparison, at the lower ends of the income and wealth spectrum, I met more true believers.
The point isn’t that these wealthy Chinese believed China hadn’t became more powerful. China in 2013/2014 was clearly more powerful than in 2003, and vastly more than in 1993.
Likewise, China militarily was always going to become more powerful between 2013 and today, as they could divert resources to it, and still had 5 years+ of decent growth to go.
Merely, they were worried about the future given the demographic trends, and worried about political instability.
Therefore, they sensibly wanted to diversify in terms of passports, investments, residencies etc.
Coming from a group who were, in many cases, incredibly close to power (business and in some cases political), this carries some weight as they were closer to the action.
So, to answer your question, many people in the West have over-egged the rise of China, and thought the 90s, 2000s and early 2010s would last forever.
Back in 2013, most people thought the RMB would keep getting stronger and China would have overtaken the US in terms of nominal GDP by now.
China might be full of surprises, and you have no idea.
One story about Mao Zedong, the founding president of PRC.
During the Zhenbao island conflicts between China and Soviet Union, the leadership of Soviet Union was said to be actually considering nuking China, after being on the losing side, to eliminate the threat of China once for all.
When the piece of intelligence was intercepted, the military committee of China held an emergent meeting, where none of the military leaders was afraid of Soviet Union launching nuclear weapons onto China, instead of offering truce they carefully analyzed the stockpile of enriched uranium and decided to retaliate Soviet Union while manufacturing nukes.
Mao was sitting there, quietly listening to each and every military head.
Approaching the end of meeting, Mao made a decision that they would not retaliate Soviet Union with nukes, followed by a strategic plan that overwhelmed the meeting attendants: forbid any intention to nuke Soviet Union, sending all field forces to the borders, once the Soviet Union launches nuclear weapons to China, the Chinese troops all charge into the USSR soil, followed by local troops and civil armies, all attack on the USSR and take their land, eventually all the Chinese will move to Soviet Union and settle there.
Everyone was overwhelmed and Mao continued to explain his plan, “if the USSR launches nuclear weapons, China will face large scale contamination, we have to move and it is not an option.”
“We attack one wave after another, we push forward to take over and destroy the military facilities and airports, the Chinese civilians arm themselves and march onto USSR.”
“Our military is the best in guerrilla battles, the USSR will find it impossible to stop us. There is more than 600 millions Chinese, all born, raised and trained in tough times through war and blood, we are unstoppable.”
The military heads were both shocked and excited. “What are we going to do with the nukes we have?” One asked.
“Attack all the USA military bases within reach, so that the USA cannot take advantage and destroy us after we are through with the USSR.”
Mao instructed the info sent to USSR and USA leadership immediately.
Henry Kissinger got the info via Poland, as China-USA was in a bad relationship, Nixon summoned the generals and they worried that as impossible as it looked, Mao would actually do it, especially given how Mao joined the Korean War without any heads up.
If China decided to launch all her nukes onto USA bases, then USA would lose all the capabilities in the APAC region. Moreover, if Mao moved the Chinese onto USSR, he might further push towards Europe, even the mainland USA.
The USA decided to side with China, rising the costs of wars for the USSR hence USSR would not impulsively attack on China. Later USA quickly summoned the USSR ambassador and made it clear.
While before the warning from USA, the leadership of USSR had already decided not to go to wars with China and take actions to repair the relationship with China. Alexei Kosygin reached to Zhou Enlai, the prime minister of China asking for an urgent meeting with Mao, but Mao decided to ignore and take a nap instead.
Alexei Kosygin requested meeting again on his way back from visit to Vietnam, where he attended the funeral of Ho Chi Minh, Zhou agreed to meet him at the airport for half an hour, little did the world know what they had talked about.
–
The Chinese might surprise you big time, nukes probably aren’t even their best weapons.
And for the story above, whether it is true is up for you to believe or not.
Cheers.
Pierogies Pad Thai
Ready-made potato-Cheddar pierogies add a new dimension to the traditional Pad Thai.
Ingredients
- 1 (12.8 ounce) package Mrs. T’s Potato & Cheddar Mini Pierogies
- 1 tablespoon butter
- 2 large eggs, beaten
- 1 tablespoon peanut oil
- 1 large clove garlic, minced
- 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into thin slices
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper
- 1/2 cup peanut sauce
- 1 cup bean sprouts
- 1/4 cup chopped peanuts
- 2 scallions thinly sliced
Instructions
- Boil pierogies as package directs. Drain.
- Meanwhile, melt butter in a 12 inch skillet over medium-high heat; cook eggs until just scrambled, stirring constantly. Remove to bowl.
- In the same skillet, heat peanut oil; over medium heat, cook garlic until lightly browned. With slotted spoon, remove garlic to bowl with eggs.
- In drippings remaining in skillet over medium high heat, cook chicken until well browned and cooked through, stirring constantly. Add salt and crushed red pepper.
- Stir in egg mixture, peanut sauce, bean sprouts and cooked pierogies. Toss to mix well. Garnish with chopped peanuts and scallions.
Attribution
Recipe and photo used with permission from: Mrs. T’s Pierogies
Is Dwayne Johnson getting skinny because he’s old? I saw the image that his body is slim.
He looks a lot slimmer in recent pictures.
A recent video went viral in which Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson looks far more slender and less muscular than his signature look. This doesn’t surprise me — Johnson is 53 years old, and at this point in time he has taken massive amounts of steroids for over three decades to maintain his enormous physique. That takes a toll on one’s health.
Johnson isn’t alone in this — his fellow wrestling superstar-turned-actor, Dave Bautista, has had a similar transformation in recent years. Also around his early fifties, coincidentally…
People aren’t meant to carry around the amount of muscle The Rock carries around and expect to live until 80. The steroids and HGH (human growth hormone) that many of these behemoths are on enlarge the heart and internal organs and drastically cut down someone’s life expectancy.
A ton of bodybuilders die of a heart attack in their fifties or sixties. Few former wrestlers maintain their bulk and make it to seventy like Hulk Hogan. I think The Rock’s doctor had a serious talk with him, ran some bloodworks and advised him to cut the steroids or die within the next five to ten years. Either that, or a recent health scare. All men have their peak, and the wise get out of the game on time.
Chicken in Raspberry Cream Sauce
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 8 chicken breasts, skinned and boned
- 2 tablespoons oil
- 1/2 cup raspberry vinegar
- 1 1/4 cups chicken stock
- 1 1/4 cups whipping cream
Instructions
- Dredge chicken in flour and sauté chicken in butter and oil; remove from pan and set aside.
- Add raspberry vinegar to pan and bring to a boil.
- Remove from heat and add chicken and chicken stock. Simmer for 15 to 20 minutes.
- Remove chicken; set aside and keep warm.
- Boil liquid over high heat until it has thickness to the consistency of cream.
- Add whipping cream and allow to thicken over medium heat.
- Serve over chicken.
If you only had 15 minutes to sharpen your mind every day, what should you do?
I’m teaching my kids to analyze how the world works.
It’s easy. Opportunities are all around us. For example, I took my 12-year-old this morning to the doctor.
We were greeted by the receptionist.
“What’s her job?” I asked him.
My boy sat quietly observing the lady’s activities.
“She receives phone calls and in charge of customers who walk in.”
“Good,” I said, “Who’s her boss?”
He used his common sense, “The doctor?” He guessed.
“Well, yes,” I answered, “She works for the doctor, but her immediate boss is the lady sitting back there,” I said while pointing to the back, “She’s the doctor’s office manager.”
A nurse opened a door and called out, “Quintanilla?”
We stood up and passed to a small room where the nurse checked my son’s vitals and his weight.
“The doctor will be with you any minute now,” she smiled as she walked out.
“What’s her job?” I asked my boy.
“She’s getting me ready for the doctor.”
“That’s right, but why does the doctor need her?”
“She’s a good helper?” he answered.
“What benefit does the doctor get with her help?
“She saves him time?” He said guessing.
“Exactly! The doctor saved 10 minutes of his valuable time by having her check all your vitals.”
The doctor walked in. He greeted us and started asking questions.
He read the nurse’s report.
A few minutes later, he said, “OK, you’re good to go now, everything looks good. Take care!”
And just like that, he was gone.
“What’s his job?” I asked my boy.
“Well, Dad, he’s the doctor. He’s the one who knows about all the medicines people need to stay healthy.”
The nurse returned. She walked us back to the main office. The office manager showed me the invoice and took my payment.
“What’s her job?” I asked my boy.
My son laughed, “You told me that, Dad! She’s the office manager.”
“Ohh, that’s true, I forgot that,” I joked as we walked out of the building.
—
Now, to answer your question, ‘If you only had 15 minutes to sharpen your mind everyday, what should you do?’
To sharpen your mind daily, be more curious, more analytical.
You will be surprised how much you can learn by asking yourself very simple questions every place you walk in.
In a restaurant? Ask questions!
Traveling? Ask questions!
In the supermarket? Ask questions!
Be analytical… Sharpen your mind!
3200 Ships Stranded in Persian Gulf – Running out of Drinking Water and Food
Hal Turner World March 20, 2026
3,200 ships are TRAPPED in the Persian Gulf right now. Crews are running out of drinking water.
One ship called the local port authority and BEGGED for permission to dock — just to get water.
They were DENIED. Let that sink in.
These aren’t military ships. These are commercial vessels — carrying oil, grain, electronics — with civilian crews who are now stranded with NO supplies and NO way out.
- – 3,200 ships STUCK
- – Crews running out of WATER
- – Port authorities REFUSING tolet them dock
- – Multiple ships reporting the SAME situation
For context — the Suez Canal crisis in 2021 blocked 400 ships. This is EIGHT TIMES worse. And nobody is talking about it.
They’re showing you missile interceptions and oil price charts.
They’re NOT showing you thousands of crew members slowly running out of drinking water in the middle of a war zone.
If these ships start getting abandoned, the environmental disaster alone would be catastrophic. Thousands of tons of fuel, cargo, chemicals — just sitting there.
This is not a shipping disruption. This is a HUMANITARIAN CRISIS unfolding in real time.
Excavator Unearths Ancient Rails Embedded in Stone — Estimated to Be 12,000 Years Old
Pictures
Sir Whiskerton and The Snoring Symphony; A Tale of Nocturnal Noise, Sleep-Deprived Animals, and One Very Upside-Down Bear
Act I: The Night the Farm Stood (Awake)
A thunderous sound shook the barnyard at midnight:
“ZZZZZZRRRKKK—BWAAAAH—snort—ZZZZRRRKKK!”
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Doris the Hen shot upright: “IS THE SKY FALLING?!”
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Chef Remy mistook it for “ze sound of a dying baguette.”
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Rufus the Dog slept through it, dreaming of silent squirrels.
Sir Whiskerton, squinting into the darkness: “That’s either a bear… or a chainsaw in love.”
Act II: The Great Snore Hunt
Armed with earplugs (made of cheese) and a grudge, Whiskerton followed the sound to Tony the Bear’s cave—where the bear hung upside-down like a fuzzy bat, snoring hard enough to:
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Vibrate the barn roof (loosening 17 shingles).
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Startle the Yodeling Fish into an accidental duet (“SNORE-YODEL-SNORE!”).
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Make Ditto’s fur ripple like a pond in a windstorm.
Ditto, attempting to mimic the snore: “Zzz… cough… Zzz… squeak?” *(Rating: 2/10 for effort)*
Act III: The Intervention
The farm staged an emergency sleep summit:
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Porkchop suggested “a good whack with a turnip.”
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Bessie the Cow offered “chamomile tea laced with honey.” (Tony drank it and snored in B-flat.)
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Lucifer the Chipmunk declared it “performance art” and tried to sell tickets.
Finally, Sir Whiskerton proposed: “Tony, sleep right-side up.”
Tony, groggy: “But… gravity feels spicy this way.”
Act IV: The Compromise
After 37 failed attempts (including strapping Tony to a hay bale with bungee cords), the solution was simple:
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Step 1: Stuff Tony’s cave with 500 pillows.
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Step 2: Play lullaby versions of polka music (the only thing that drowns out snores).
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Step 3: Relocate Ditto’s echo chamber to the opposite side of the farm.
Result: The farm slept… except Rufus, who now missed the “white noise.”
The Moral of the Story
Everyone deserves rest—even if it takes a pillow fort and a polka band.
Post-Credit Scene
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Tony starts a “Snore Choir” (auditions: “Must vibrate windows at 50 paces”).
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Doris markets “Earplugs for the Dramatic” (made of gossip and regret).
Best Lines
-
Chef Remy: “Zis is not snoring—zis is culinary terrorism!”
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Ditto: “ZZZ… falls over… ZZZ… falls into bucket.”
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Sir Whiskerton: “Next time, I’m moving to the quiet farm. Oh wait—that’s a cemetery.”
Starring
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Tony the Bear (猫熊托尼) – Gravity-defying maestro
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Sir Whiskerton – Sleep-deprived detective
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Ditto – Failed snore apprentice
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Rufus – Unbothered king
Key Jokes
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The Farmer trying to record the snore as a “new scarecrow alarm.”
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Polly the Peacock mistaking it for “a mating call” and responding with screechy passion.
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Gnomeo using the vibrations to power his “gnome-sized disco.”
P.S. For Educators
The End (…until Tony discovers sideways sleeping.)
Bonus:
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Tony’s Snore Scale:
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1/10: Gentle breeze
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5/10: Tractor engine
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11/10: “Call the UN”
-
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Ditto’s Echo Rating:
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Original Snore: 🌪️💥
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Ditto’s Version: ^(…peep…)
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Sleep tight… if you can! 😴🐻
Pomegranate Chicken
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Ingredients
- 2 teaspoons olive oil
- 1 1/2 pounds skinless, boneless chicken thighs
- 1 tablespoon cumin
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
- 1 teaspoon turmeric
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 1/4 cup walnuts, ground into a paste
- 1 cup pomegranate juice
Instructions
- Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet. Brown chicken thighs on both sides and transfer to a plate.
- Add spices and chopped onion to skillet, and cook until onion has softened.
- Return chicken to skillet; add walnut paste and pomegranate juice. Simmer for 20 minutes, until chicken is cooked and sauce has reduced and thickened slightly.
Nutrition
Per serving: Calories 226, Calories from Fat 84, Total Fat 9.4g (sat 1.6g), Cholesterol 94mg, Sodium 104mg, Carbohydrate 11.5g, Fiber 1.5g, Protein 23.9g
A Shotgun Through Fog
Written in response to: “Center your story around someone who has (or is given) the ability to time travel.“
Daniel Rogers
A fog-like substance billowed in from beyond the dorms and educational buildings surrounding me, blocking out the campus from my sight. It drew closer, covering the street, then the sidewalk, before engulfing me. A metallic smell overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t breathe. Then the fog vanished, and I no longer stood in the middle of my college campus, but in an empty room.
The device lay at my feet, but I have no memory of dropping it, and to my shock and horror, in its place, I held a shotgun. Taking a quick look around, it became clear the device had transported me from my university to this desolate room. It didn’t have any furniture. A small kitchen sat in the corner, and next to it, a tiny walled bathroom—a typical studio apartment, but one that nobody lived in for years. Cobwebs filled the corners and windows, and a thick layer of dust covered the wooden floor.
I took a second look at the floor. There were footprints in the dust.
My adrenaline pumped as I suddenly felt a presence in the room. In the shadow of the main door stood a woman with her back to me. Had she been here the whole time?
“Another time-cop!” She said without turning around. “Are you going to shoot me or take me in?”
I’ve been aiming the shotgun at the back of her head since I arrived, like I had traded places with the dead man. I’ve never shot a gun in my life, but my finger lightly pressed against the trigger, like I knew what to do.
“Who are you?” I asked, as I carefully relaxed my trigger finger.
“You don’t know? Aren’t you a time cop?”
“I’m a professor at Danville University.”
She snickered. At least I thought I heard her snicker. “Would you mind if I turn around?”
Something told me to say no, but instead, I only gripped my gun tighter and said yes, but told her to raise her hands. There must be a reason I’m pointing this gun at her. She is likely the assassin the man warned me about.
She turned. Her black hair and bold blue eyes struck me like a slap across the face. I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this specimen of feminine perfection.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just repeated my question.
“I’m the good guy here,” she smiled. “Why don’t you put that gun down? No one is going to kill the Chancellor today.”
“The Lion?”
She tilted her head in surprise, “His political opponents gave him that name. Now he proudly claims it for himself.”
“Then you must be the one.” I stared into her eyes. How could I shoot her? Even to stop a hundred-year civil war? I’m not a killer.
She could see the conflict in me. “If you allow me to walk out of here, you’ll return to your time. None of this matters. Just go back.”
I wanted to let her go. It isn’t my fight. It’s none of my business. Or is it? What if my father fights? What if he dies before having me? I won’t exist. Even if I do exist, there won’t be a Danville University. A world at war doesn’t need higher education? Everything I know will cease to exist.
“I can’t let you do that.”
She lowered her hands slightly. “You’re not a killer. I can see it in your eyes. Just let me go, and you can return to your university like nothing ever happened. All you have to do is lower the gun, and all will return to normal.”
Is she correct? Could everything go back to normal? What if the time cop is wrong? I don’t want to kill her. It would be easy to lower my gun. I wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. I don’t even belong here. It’s not my responsibility.
She grew impatient, “I’m not going to keep standing here. Either you’ll have to shoot me, or I’m leaving. It’s your choice.”
The device lying on the floor lit up and began vibrating. A strong desire to ask for her name overcame me, like the device had given me the idea.
“Before you go, tell me your name. I want to know if I’m doing the right thing.”
She smiled and lowered her hands. “My name is Veronica Windmiller.”
That name is familiar. I’ve read about her somewhere. Then it hit me. She saw the change in my eyes and tried to dash out of the room, but she was too slow. I pulled the trigger. She lay dead at the threshold of the room.
The fog returned, and the studio apartment evaporated, replaced by the familiar grounds of Danville University.
I ran to my office, frantically searching through my collection of out-of-print history books. As a professor of history, I’ve been collecting for most of my career. I found the two-hundred-year-old textbook I wanted and flipped through the pages until I came to the chapter on Chancellor Lionel.
I couldn’t remember much about this little-known World Chancellor. I most certainly don’t remember anything that would make me believe his assassination would cause a worldwide civil war.
He died of pancreatic cancer only six months into his chancellery, but before he died, he began talks with the Landnorians, the first alien race to agree to speak with us. Almost everyone credits Lionel’s successor for leading Earth to join the Union of Systems, but Lionel actually began the process.
I set the book on my desk. So, if Lionel hadn’t begun the talks, his successor would have dropped the ball somehow, plunging Earth into the worst war in history.
The history professor in me gobbled this information up, but I still hadn’t found what I needed to sleep tonight. I skimmed around until my heart jumped. The author only made a passing reference, a mere mention that an unknown hero thwarted an assassination attempt on Chancellor Lionel by a woman named Veronica Windmiller.
I sighed in relief. It pays to know history.
The U.S. farm collapse just got worse. 88 percent of exports wiped out in days. How will Americans put food on the table?
Good question Michael Boyd.
Before long, and for the second time, Trump will have to subside farmers.
In other words, Americans will pay for Trump’s tariffs and then he’ll have to use part of it to save his supporters.
And just like last time, I bet you that he makes certain that corporate farmers get the biggest cut of any and all funding.
American farmers were told by just about anyone with half a brain that Trump would screw them again and still they listened to their Orange Oracle, the Golden Turd.
American farmers are going to be buried alive in their own soybeans. They can console themselves by drinking all that unsold bourbon.
And then they can cheer those great job figures and fabulous gasoline, which Trump says is under $2 (September 2025) in some places. I think Xanadu and Fantasy Island might have been mentioned.
The economy is so freaking fabulous that the Federal Reserve lowered interest rates.
I still think that the shit will really hit the fan in about February 2026 when the retailers are only selling the tariff ridden stock that US consumers will be paying into Trump’s federal coffers.
Don’t Republican voters love the smell of taxes in the morning?
Because you’re paying an extra tax. Tariffs are just taxes with a fancier name. And even funnier still is this lovely little tax is going to go into the bank accounts of billionaires and millionaires and shareholders. And the bottomless pockets of CEOs and executives who get their cut first.
God bless America…
I’m off to buy shares in an ICE mask factory.
CBS News Ends
CBS News Radio will end a 100 year run in May. They’ve told 700 radio affiliates they’re pulling the plug.
Among them are WINS in NYC and KNX 1070 in Los Angeles.
Feminist Goes to Male Gym and Discovers Why Men Actually Lift Weights
This is actually a very good video.
Wow, a division of marines and soldiers to invade a mountainous country the size of Europe… without reliable air cover… under continuous enemy fire…
Lmfao.
Good luck with that, Donald.
Best they can do is take a few islands… under continuous enemy fire….
And good luck, too, getting them off again.