After I left the Navy, but before I went into MAJestic training at China Lake, I was a young 20-something man who was out dating and having fun. As were all of us in our twenties.
For a while, I hooked up with this “train wreck” of a girl named “Mary”.
She was a thin red head, attractive with a one year old child. She was a single mom. No job. No income. Living off welfare.
I met her in a bar, and if there is one thing that I will say, she lost her mind when drinking tequila.
Ah. She liked me a lot, but she was a wreck. She really was.
First off, she was having sex with her brother for years until he got married. Perhaps for six to eight years.
And, though it didn’t bother me…
But what did was her constant drinking and out of control behavior. Why, she couldn’t keep her panties on.
- She’d go to a salon to have her hair done. Then she would come home and tell me that she was seduced in the back room, and had sex with the guy.
- She’d be looking at apartments, and end up giving blow-jobs to every man that was there. Three different apartments, resulting in three different blow-jobs to different guys.
- She’d need a ride, and the guy would have sex with her when he took her home.
And so on and so forth.
Now, this was in the early 1980’s and I’ll tell you, maybe it was common, but it was new to me and very overwhelming to me. It’s not that I cared too much, as I could pretty much have any girl that I chose, but lordy! That kind of rampant free-sexual lifestyle way far too off the charts for me.
Ah, I left her and met another girl.
But man oh man.
Now, what it going on in the West regarding the free promiscuity is disturbing to me as I have a different idea and opinion about relationships, but what this snippet of memory does is point out that there are others that view sex as something common.
Like tissue paper or, paperclips.
Or used Popsicle sticks.
Know the proclivities and what others find to be important. Often; more often than not, what you think is important is NOT shared by others.
Accept that, and understand. It will make your life easier in the future as you can become very selective in your human associations and relationships.
Today…
What is it like to talk to a serial killer?
Originally Answered: What is it like to talk with a serial killer?
The truth about evil, and the people who commit serial murder, is both scary and eye opening.
I spent some time incarcerated at the same prison as Orville Lynn Majors. He is suspected of having murdered in excess of 130 people while he was employed at a rural Indiana hospital. To put things in perspective, one out of every three people admitted to the hospital during his employment ended up dying. He was directly implicated in a minimum of 130 deaths, though convicted of only a handful, which was all that was needed to give him a 360 year sentence.
My conversations with him started out as function of my job as warehouse and inventory clerk at the license plate shop. I knew who he was from news accounts, and wanted to find out what kind of a person could do such things.
Prison politics are strictly enforced by the offenders, and you do not ever ask another inmate questions about why they are locked up, or if they actually did the crime, etc. To do so is to risk your life. Literally.
I had made it a policy to carefully observe people I considered to be dangerous and find out what motivates them. I wanted to learn what their mode of operations are like and what can potentially trigger violence in them.
Orville is an extremely polite, congenial gay man, who is easy to get along with and instills a level of trust in his co-workers. He worked closely with guards, Pen Products (a prison based industry) staff members and other inmates. His conversations were jovial, he would give you the shirt off his back and be willing to help with anything and everything. A very likeable guy.
Just like anyone else there, he had his moments of anger, disagreement with others and the like. He did not appear to be any different from anyone else. On the surface.
My observations of his behavior, however, chilled me to the bone. When people work closely together, they end up lowering their defenses around their co-workers. Orville is a very smart individual, and he knows this about human nature. You would never guess from casual observation and interaction that this man is a serial killer.
I was struck by how casual the staff members acted around him, the level of freedom he enjoyed and how carefully he manipulated people into giving him ever increasing levels of latitude and freedom.
When watching him, I had to be careful and do it from a distance. You do not want him to suspect you as a potential danger. I am a little apprehensive about it still, as I write this answer.
Whenever a staff member would lose focus on him, his entire demeanor would change and he would make every attempt to do what he was actually wanting to do, without discovery. Yet, he was back to good old Orville the minute someone refocused on him.
Instantly.
As if there were two completely different people in charge of his body. What he was really doing, was plotting on the guards, staff and other inmates. He was procuring items to make weapons, making certain things disappear on paper so that the prison would lose track of inventory.
I have just crossed the line on convict behavior by sharing this, and he will likely be punished for what I am saying. This is not my intent, I have no personal animosity toward him.
I guess I relate this to you because he is the most dangerous man I have ever met. Yet, if I hadn’t been exposed to other dangerous people before him, I would have never guessed, and would not have been as diligent in my efforts to keep an eye on him.
I could not believe how the guards and staff lowered their guard around him. It was an insanity to allow him near deadly tools and things that could be used to cause serious bodily harm, and yet, he was in close proximity to these things, unsupervised, much of the time I observed his behavior.
There was a quality about his demeanor that I had rarely, if ever, seen before. We were not real to him. We were just objects to be used and discarded as he saw fit. If he could use you, he was your dearest friend, until he was done, or you were exhausted, at which time you were just another object in his way.
In short, he was evil. I don’t scare easily, but with this guy, I was constantly on alert. There was nothing to trust in him.
You’d never guess how much he hates people from talking to him.
I am making this anonymous because there are certain rules that prisoners must follow, and I have broken just about all of them with this answer. While I do not plan on ever going back to any prison, if I was that unfortunate, this answer would carry a death sentence. Those who know my writing can guess who I am, the rest do not need to know.
Female TEACHER-Student Sex is an EPIDEMIC!
What’s the most expensive thing you’ve gotten for an insanely cheap price?
A set of John Deere pallet forks for my tractor. These thing go for anywhere from around 800 dollars to over a thousand. I got these for free.
I needed some to move a deer blind but I couldn’t afford to buy a set so I went to a rental store to see if they’d have some I could rent for the day. Nope, nothing to rent. I was a little disappointed and the guy that was helping me said that they had something in the back that maybe I could use if I was interested. Figuring that they had something back there that was either homemade or not even what I was needing or wouldn’t fit my tractor I thought it couldn’t hurt to look so I followed the guy to the back behind the maintenance building.
Just sitting there in the tall grass and weeds was not only a set of pallet forks but they were John Deere green and they were specifically made for my tractor. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Oh man, you bet I told that guy. These are perfect. Let’s do the deal. He says we gotta go talk to the manager because these aren’t in the inventory.
So the manager says he can’t rent them because they aren’t in the inventory. So I half jokingly and half seriously say I’d give him a hundred bucks for them. He says no, he can’t because again. They aren’t in the inventory. So I said I’ll buy them just name the price and again he tells me he can’t. I then told him I’ll just slip him some money under the table and bring them back when I’m through with them and he just says he can’t do that. He explained to me that when they first moved into that property those forks were already there along with some other items and nobody had claimed them in 6 years or so. For accounting purposes he has to be able to match any money brought I to equipment leased out and since those weren’t on the inventory he couldn’t account for them.
I was about to give up when he said “Just take ‘em”. “YOU SERIOUS?” I said. “He said yeah, I can’t do anything with them.”
Man I didn’t hesitate, I just asked for help getting them loaded in my pickup. I couldn’t stop thanking that manager and the guy that helped enough.
On the way home I called the best pizza place in town and had 6 extra large pizzas sent over for that shop.
“The United States is Crumbling Before Our Eyes” | Victor Davis Hanson
What is something crazy you have seen that no one else around you saw?
A beggar came and started knocking on my car window. He wasn’t able to stand properly!
I told him to go away. But he wasn’t paying any heed.
I lowered down the car window.
He started crying, saying, “Babu, please give me ₹10 only. I haven’t eaten food for 3 days. I don’t want to die like this. God will bless you!”
Then, I thought, “What’s a big deal in giving ₹10?”
As I was about to give a 10 rupee coin to him, I heard my mobile’s ringtone. (Redmi Note 3)
I picked up my phone. (Which was on the dashboard)
But, it wasn’t ringing. Still I could hear Redmi’s ringtone.
Then I looked at the beggar. He was trying to stop his mobile from ringing.
He was looking at me, I was looking at him.
Awkward Silence.
He ran away. (Remember, he couldn’t stand properly)
Then the traffic started moving.
I went home and said, “Dad, I want a new phone! Samsung Guru would work, but not this Redmi.”
What do you consider an unfair double standard towards men these days?
- If women sexually harass us, it’s seen as amusing rather than rapey.
- If a guy and a woman both get drunk and have sex, only the guy can be accused of rape.
- Women don’t get blamed for dumping a man; when a man dumps a woman, he’s ‘afraid of commitment.
- If a woman gets angry at a man, it’s his fault. Man gets angry at a woman, he needs to control himself.
- Our society doesn’t believe that women can sexually abuse boys.
- Women can beat us up all they want, but if we hit back, we’re monsters.
- If a woman sexually assaults you, you’re supposed to enjoy it.
- Guys are still expected to be the breadwinner.
- Women are allowed to reject guys based on their looks without being seen as ‘shallow.’
- If a man cheats, he’s an asshole; if a woman does, it’s the man’s fault.
- Divorce laws are lopsidedly in favor of women.
- When a woman is raped it’s a tragedy; when a man is raped it’s a joke.
- Women get shorter sentences for the same crimes as men.
Harry Potter by Balenciaga – 1950’s Super Panavision 70
What is the most pretentious thing you have ever seen your boss do?
September 12, 2001
This was the day after the World Trade Center went down. Although I was in London, our office was evacuated a few hours after the terrorist attacks in NY. Somehow people thought that terrorists were after investment bankers.
When I came in the morning of Sept 12 there was not much work going on. People were just roaming around the office trying to figure out what the future holds.
Then I witness the following scene from a senior banker – not my direct boss, but more a boss of my boss. Let’s call him Mr. Boss as he talked to his secretary. Remember this is on 9–12–2001
-What time did you book my flight to NY?
-BA cancelled all flights to NY.
-Just get me American…
-They are not flying also…
-I need to be in NY tomorrow to meet a client (already raising his voice)
-I’m afraid but I couldn’t find any airline to book…
-This is ridiculous. Well …just book me a private plane then because Jeff and Peter need to be there as well
-I’m afraid but I looked into that option as well and it is not available.
(Now Mr Boss goes on a rant)
-Are you telling me you cannot find me a ticket to NY with all the airlines in the world? AND YOU CANT LOCATE A JET TO CHARTER IN THE ENTIRE UK ? Why do I need you?
(Secretary ready to cry at this point but Mr Boss continues and now the entire floor is watching)
-Just tell me why can’t you do your job? How hard is it to do travel arrangements? HOW HARD ? SHOULD I DO IT MYSELF? TELL ME, WHY CANT YOU FIND ME A PLANE TO NEW YORK ?
-Because there is an air space shutdown in the U.S.
Mr Boss was speechless and went into his office slamming the door. We all wanted to erupt into cheers and applause, but that would just make matters worse.
Major Banking Giant To Sell $63 Billion In US Treasuries – Expect Bigger Failures & Losses
and a craving for a taco. But as they all sat down at a table, I noticed only one of them ordered anything.
The other three sat and stared at the menu with hungry glances. As time went on, they began having conversations about school, girls, and about twenty other subjects…
At a random moment, the man who was sitting in the corner of the restaurant stood up, came over to stand over the table…As all of the boys shrank back on view of this 6’5 giant, the words that issued forth made my day.
“Y’all want a slushie? Come on up here, let’s get you guys something.” Within a few seconds, the three boys jumped out of their chair, ran to the counter, and happily ordered not only slushies, but found that the stranger also offered to buy them food. He quickly asked the cashier if he could pay before they started the food as he needed to get back on the road.
Card swiped, a goodbye given, and this gentle man quickly went for the back door without asking for a thank you for the young boys. I nodded silently to him and flashed a smile as a signal that he had been seen.
He lifted a hand in farewell towards the counter, and with smiles touching both sides of their faces, the little dudes all turned and yelled “thank you!” as he slipped out the door and jogged to his semi parked to the side of the building… Today, Love and Kindness looked like a 12 pack of soft tacos and 3 Starburst Freezes.”
Emergency Announcement! Potential Death Penalty For Taiwanese Separatist. 臺獨最高判死刑
Very serious actions.
What is the most shameless thing you have ever seen a teacher do?
I attended Catholic school and my 4th grade teacher, Miss Shoemaker, was the most shameless teacher I have ever known. She was on top of me, every single day, with some punishment or reticule or something to embarrass me in front of the class. She accused me of cheating on my Science test because I and another boy were the only ones who got a 100% (the other boy sat several tables away and she didn’t accuse him); she dumped my desk out because she thought I stole a girl’s hair brush (I had a crew cut at the time and had absolutely no need for a brush); she had punished me by sticking me in a desk at the very back of the room and when she asked the class what kind of punishments we should have for different behaviors I suggested sitting them in the back of the room, she exploded at me that that would be a terrible punishment that no one would deserve. But the MOST shameless thing that she did was she took me out into the hall to yell at me because I had been in the hospital because of some physical issues (that the doctor at the time said came from stress; I wonder where I could have gotten any stress!) and I hadn’t told her so she could come and visit me!! Yeah, that would have been so helpful!
The Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers – 1950s Super Panavision 70
Declawing cats is legal in most U.S. states but why is it banned in at least 22 countries including Germany, Finland, Switzerland, Australia, New Zealand and Japan?
People planning to get a kitten sometimes ask me when they are supposed to get them de-clawed. My answer usually stops them cold. “You should get the kitten de-clawed the same day you have your baby’s fingers amputated” I get the deer in the headlights look and a WHAT???? Then I explain what de-clawing actually entails, and how it affects the cat’s quality of life and even his length of life. It’s a lot more than just pulling the cat’s “fingernails” out by the roots, (as bad as that is!) It’s the actual amputation of the fingers , comparable to taking off your fingers back to the first knuckle. Consider that the cat, fresh from surgery has to paw through gritty sand or litter to urinate and/or defecate, and walk in his mess with his newly bandaged feet. Is it any wonder that many cats have recurring infections of the feet after de-clawing? Is it any wonder that many cats suffer from constant pain and arthritis-like agony starting any length of time after the amputation? Is it any wonder that though he may love you and your family, it is just too agonizing for him to play or be cuddled when he is in pain? Pain causes stress on the entire animal system, his heart, digestion, lungs, liver, etc. And finally: The cat is also absolutely defenseless after de-clawing and absolutely must not EVER be allowed outside. He cannot scratch an attacking dog or other cat, he cannot climb a tree to get up and away. Please, please do not mutilate your darling kitten with this barbaric torture.
If You Grew Up in the 1970s…You Remember This!
What is the most amusing conversation that you have ever heard?
Originally Answered: What was the most amusing conversation that you have ever heard?
I am French and my girlfriend is Indonesian. We communicate between ourselves in English, and as I live in Indonesia I can speak an average bahasa Indonesia, but my girlfriend doesn’t speak a word of French.
We went to my grandma’s house in the countryside of France to pay her a visit, and on this side of my family, no one speaks a word of English, even for the basic words such as thank you etc…
So they spoke to my girlfriend in very simple French (the one you usually speak to your dog or kids) hoping she would understand. Of course it didn’t work at all and my girlfriend was answering in English, which was not understood by anyone but me. So she was using this technique (which I still use sometimes too in Indonesia) that consists of repeating the last words of the sentence that has been said to you when you don’t understand. Of course you won’t go too far in the conversation with repeating the last few words, especially when you have no idea what it means, but you can pretend that you get the message.
Of course I’m not a full asshole so I was trying to help both sides most of the time, but once in a while, I won’t lie, it was fun as hell to just sit and watch and see how it goes. One moment was particularly funny.
My grandma, bringing a chicken while looking at my girlfriend: “Et voilààà un petit poulet” (= Here it is a little chicken)
My girlfriend, with no idea of what have just been said: Petit poulet? (=Little chicken?)
My grandma, smiling: Petit poulet!
My girlfriend, super enthusiastic: Petit poulet!
My grandma, thrilled: Petit poulet!
Then everyone laughed with no idea of why this conversation even happened !
When we left, my girlfriend cried a little because she found my grandma adorable, and my grandma told me that my girlfriend was great.
From the few days we spent there, this was probably the deepest conversation they got without me interfering.
Conclusion: you can create great connections with people talking about chicken, even if you don’t know that you are talking about chicken.
Putin just made an OMINOUS nuclear warning, and the west better pay attention
Vladimir Putin has just issued what can only be described as a chilling warning involving nuclear weapons, global world order, and NATO's continued provocation. Asia rolled out the red carpet for Putin this week... during his Asia tour, which included stops in North Korea and Vietnam, Putin dropped a bombshell—both metaphorically and potentially literally.
If your accelerator breaks on the highway causing you to speed uncontrollably, could you just take the keys out of the car? What else could you try to do?
This happened to us driving a brand new Volvo on the “Freeway” headed south from Paris a long time ago. My friend was driving at high speed, took his foot off the accelerator, and… nothing happened. He started panicking. Being the resident engineer, I calmly told him to put it in neutral and kill the engine. He then coasted off the highway onto the shoulder. I popped the hood and diagnosed the problem. The accelerator linkage had broken. I was able to do a temporary repair which got us to Lyon, where a Volvo dealer replaced the parts with profound apologies. Even in France.
Addendum – Commenters are correct that 1. You do NOT want to remove the keys or do anything to lock the steering wheel. 2. You will lose power assist on steering and brakes if you kill the engine. But brakes and steering are designed to still work, they will just require more effort without the power assist. And the emergency/parking brake will not be affected at all. In the story I told above, my friend had no trouble controlling/steering/stopping the car with the engine off. Of course, different cars will behave differently. Knowing your car’s capabilities and limitations is always helpful in an emergency. We used to practice skids in snowy empty parking lots. Knowing what to do may have saved my life once when my car started spinning on an icy highway.
Southern Biscuits and Gravy
Biscuits and gravy have been around as long as this country. Born of necessity and frugality, the dish seems to have become commonplace during the Revolutionary War. Biscuits and gravy answered the need for a hearty, high-calorie breakfast for people who worked hard, but didn’t have much money on hand.
Why Biscuits And Gravy?
The milk-based gravy was used to stretch the meat, and biscuits themselves could be made with a variety of fats. Butter was the preferred fat, particularly if the family had a cow or ready access to dairy; and if not, lard or drippings were frequently used. At first, biscuits were nothing but hard tooth-breaking lumps of flour and water, but eventually they evolved into the light and flaky tender-crumb variety made with baking powder that we enjoy today. Popular across the country, this dish is a particular favorite in the Southern United States, and you’d be hard pressed to find a restaurant where it wasn’t on the menu.
Proper Southern-style biscuits and gravy begin with homemade buttermilk biscuits. If you are planning to make this dish with grocery store biscuit dough in a pressurized cardboard tube, you will be sacrificing flavor and texture (not to mention authenticity) for convenience. As for the gravy, it will only be as good as the sausage you use. Buy a bulk breakfast sausage that you like, one that’s well seasoned, and has a decent ratio of fat to lean. Avoid the budget varieties that are almost all fat. The buttermilk you use is also important — the acidity that results from a high-quality product reacts more fiercely with baking powder, making a much lighter biscuit.
Try this authentic recipe and serve to your weekend guests — we guarantee every last bit will disappear!
Ingredients
- 1/2 pound bulk pork breakfast sausage
- 2 tablespoons chopped yellow onions
- 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 2 cups hot milk
- Salt and pepper, to taste
- 1 batch Southern Biscuits
Instructions
- Heat frying pan and fry the sausage and onion until the sausage is brown and the onion clear.
- Drain off all grease except for 2 tablespoons.
- Stir in the flour and cook for just a minute.
- Add the hot milk. Stir constantly until the mixture thickens and then season with salt and pepper.
- Serve over warm opened biscuits.
When did Roman soldiers retire? Was it dependent on age, length of service, campaigns fought, or something else?
Roman soldiers typically retired after 20 to 25 years of service. This wasn’t strictly about age, though if you started young, you’d still be relatively fit when you retired.
It was more about the length of service. The standard term was 25 years, but this could vary depending on the era and specific circumstances.
For example, during the time of the Roman Republic, soldiers were often citizen soldiers who served temporarily during campaigns and then returned home.
But as Rome’s military needs grew, especially under the Empire, the system evolved into a more professional standing army.
Augustus, the first Roman emperor, formalized this with his military reforms, setting the retirement standard at 25 years.
Now, campaigns fought and distinguished service could influence retirement, too.
A soldier who showed exceptional bravery or skill might be granted an early discharge, a sort of “thanks for going above and beyond” reward.
One cool thing is that some soldiers received land grants upon retirement.
Augustus started this trend, giving veterans land in provinces like Gaul, Spain, and North Africa. It was a clever move, rewarding the soldiers and spreading Roman culture simultaneously.
In the late Roman Empire, Emperor Diocletian made some tweaks.
The standard service term was still around 25 years, but Diocletian, always the reformer, introduced the concept of the veteranus, a sort of semi-retirement phase where soldiers could transition out of full active duty but still serve in a support capacity.
This helped maintain experienced soldiers in the ranks without overburdening them.
Also, let’s not forget the praetorian guard, the elite troops tasked with protecting the emperor.
They had it a bit cushier compared to the legions. They usually served about 16 years before retiring with full honors and a nice pension.
Their shorter service term was partly due to the intense political nature of their job, which, let’s be honest, could be just as deadly as any battlefield.
Retirement wasn’t just a pat on the back and a “see ya!” moment.
Soldiers were often given a diploma, a bronze plaque detailing their service and granting them Roman citizenship if they weren’t already citizens.
This was a big deal, especially for auxiliary troops from the provinces. Citizenship came with legal and social perks that could significantly improve their post-service life.
Top 10 80s One Hit Wonders You Forgot Were AWESOME
The Chance
Submitted into Contest #8 in response to: Write a story about an adventure in space. … view prompt
Joanna White
Jexx felt his hand being gripped as if his hand was the last lifeline left. He glanced at Avill, his wife and his eyes told her more than words from his mouth could.
“Is this really it?” she asked him. “We’re really going to Earth?”
He nodded. “We have no other choice. Our home… it’s gone. We can live in peace amongst the humans… stay hidden even. It’s for the best.”
Avill bit her lip, which trembled slightly. Whether from fear or anxiety, Jexx could only guess. The Great War had finally taken its toll on their planet, just as he suspected it would. He and his wife were part of a group of only ten survivors—out of millions. Fortunately, they all looked just like humans which would make it easier for them to blend in with the humans on earth.
Loud alarms sounded so much and for so long, Jexx’s ears popped. Red flashes drained his world of color, and he closed his eyes to shield them. He could still feel his wife’s grip, and he returned it.
Voices shouted over the loud-speaker and his heart sank when he realized the ship was malfunctioning.
“What’s going on?!” Avill yelled. Her voice was just one among others worriedly shouting over all the noise.
“The blockade… one of the ships hit ours! The engine has been damaged!” one man shouted. The rebels in the Great War had finally taken over the planet’s government, which sent the whole planet into chaos. They put up a blockade of ships to trap anyone from getting out. Jexx and his group had risked it and came out unscathed.
Or so he had believed.
The ship itself violently rocked and trembled; it was as if Jexx’s whole word had turned upside down. He stood, with difficulty, and started to follow the man into the engine room.
“Jexx!” Avill shouted. Her eyes pleaded what her voice couldn’t say. They were the color of sapphires—intriguing and as deep as an ocean.
“I have to do what I can to help.” He stared back at her, his gaze steady, attempting to reassure her. He would do what he had to if it meant what little of his people were left could survive.
She nodded, seeming to understand the deeper meaning behind his gaze and no more words were needed between them. He turned and followed the man down an endless maze of hallways. Mentally, he calculated how many people were left and where they were; there were two at the cockpit—the pilot and copilot. There were two or three men at the gunners. Then there was this man along with two others in the engine room, and he remembered that Avill was with another woman and her child.
“Where is the most damage?” Jexx asked him.
The man showed him. The engine was a sublight drive, which enabled the ship to travel into deep space. The warp core, which allowed the ship to go into hyperspace, appeared to be undamaged. The engine’s IR suppressor, which kept the sensors from getting overheated, was completely shattered.
Jexx cursed. “We won’t be able to pick up readings about the world as we travel through Earth’s atmosphere,” he said.
“And with the sensors overheating there could be damage to the landing jets.”
Jexx ran down the endless hallway. If the landing jets were damaged they wouldn’t be able to land. It seemed to take too long, but finally he arrived at the back of the engine room. The sensors had already overheated.
The landing jets were useless.
He ran back toward the front part of the room and inside, the man knelt on the floor, assessing other damage.
“How close are we to Earth?”
“We’re coming out of hyperspace now,” the man replied.
Sure enough, Jexx felt the jolt that meant they had come out of hyperspace.
“Go tell the pilot we can’t land!” As the man ran off, one of the metal pipes started to fall. If it fell, the whole engine would collapse. Jexx ran over and grabbed it, using all the strength he had to hold it up.
The man returned, looking pale faced. “We’re coming in to the planet’s atmosphere now. It appears we’re going to land in some kind of body of water and we don’t have enough speed to reach land,” the man was explaining. When he looked up and noticed Jexx, he tried to help, but Jexx pushed him away.
“Get everyone out of here! Make sure they’re gathered at the hanger bay doors, ready to jump out and swim to the surface!”
“Jexx…”
“I have to stay here to hold this up to keep it from exploding or all the lives here could be lost.”
“You’ll die,” the man said, stating the obvious.
“Just tell my wife I love her. Get out of here!”
When the man left, Jexx grunted under the weight of the metal pipe, but he forced himself to hold its weight.
In those final moments, it was as if time had stopped completely. Jexx could see the parts of the engines around him, some even as tall as the buildings back home. He could smell oil and something bitter and he could taste metal in his mouth. The ship rocked and hit something hard. When the walls burst open, his ears felt as if they were splitting open as the water came crashing through. The taste of metal in his mouth turned to water and he could fill it spilling over his ankles.
His legs.
Waist.
Chest.
Mouth.
The taste consumed him and his lungs fought for hair, but he held on. He couldn’t let the pipe fall and cause the engine to explode; he had to give the others time to get out.
He could only hope he gave them enough time.
He thought of his home, of his wife and their unborn child before water consumed him and he finally gave in, finally opened his mouth and let the water swim down his throat, blocking his airway.
His last thoughts were of his wife and child, and the chance they had to live.
What ended your relationship with your best friend?
This is going to sound ridiculously stupid and it was. But it was the Barbie movie. That was the final snap.
My best friend and I had been friends for 15 years. We went through thick and thin together, I helped her through her parents divorce allowing her to vent uncontrollably to me about her entire life. Due to this she went through a bought of poor mental health. She didn’t come to uni so I made new friends and it was wonderful.
I still tried to keep in touch with her but I got little response so the friendship began draining me and I felt used. The only times she spoke to me now was when she needed something and it was painful but still I tried to keep the friendship. This cycle just carried on and my friends were even asking me why I wasn’t just ending the friendship as they could see the toxicity within.
Anyway, me and my group of 13 friends all arranged a nice trip to the cinema to watch Barbie. Typically the day we were going to go she turned up to uni and asked me if I had plans for the rest of the day. So, I responded with “well I’m actually planning to go to watch Barbie with everyone later. You can join if you want”. To which she responded by bursting into hysterics telling me I don’t value the friendship and I needed to put more effort into messaging her (bare in mind she didn’t message me at all) to which I got angry and expressed my feeling about feeling used etc. The argument got to the point that I said to her I just needed to go and speak to one of my other friends before I said something I may regret. At which point she physically pushed me against the wall throwing insults at me, telling me I was a horrible friend etc. I didn’t want the friendship to end but at this point the argument got to the point that it needed to end so I tried to console her. She turned the whole conversation on its head turning herself into the victim and I got angry again which I think was understandable so I walked and once again she pushed me but also slapped me straight across the face infront of all my other friends and members of the uni. It was attracting attention. At this point she just started spewing things I had told her throughout the whole friendship and I just went NEVER speak to me again and blocked her on everything. She tried chasing after me profusely apologising but I was not taking her bullshit.
I’ve felt bad ever since for leaving her during a time of hardship but the friendship was becoming really taxing in me mentally and the moment she laid hands on me I decided I would never go back.
As a surgeon, what is the scariest thing you’ve seen in the operating room?
A thirty-year old man came to see me for unexplained visual loss in one eye. I thought there was a mass pushing against his left optic nerve and ordered an MRI. This demonstrated that the mass was in fact a large aneurysm of his carotid artery against the brain.
The protocol was to send such cases to the vascular neurosurgeon who saw him the same day. He agreed on the diagnosis and ordered an angiogram to better show the aneurysm. Both the angiogram and surgery were set for the next morning. This was about 1987 and there was no way of fixing the aneurysm without open neurosurgery. We were lucky as Dr. T was world famous for his technical ability. And he was kind to allow me to come as his assistant.
The skull was opened by the resident by drilling four holes that were then connected with an electric saw that had a ridge to protect the soft brain beneath. The large skull flap was removed and the underlying dura (tough skin around the brain) cut and flapped back, exposing the brain. For the next hour the chief resident pushed and manipulated the brain to one side. And then a ridge of bone had to be drilled down for better exposure. Then we had a clear view, the juncture of the carotid and ophthalmic arteries with a big bulging arterial aneurysm coming straight up at us. Before touching this, Dr. T placed two cords around the carotids on both sides. “Just in case.” He explained.
Then, a silver aneurysm clip was slipped in behind the aneurysm and slowly released allowing the two prongs to cinch closed over the neck of the aneurysm. Only I didn’t get to see the last part. Suddenly the entire brain pan filled with blood. I was suctioning but couldn’t keep up with the outpouring of blood. The resident ripped his suction tip off and I followed suit, so we went with these hoses into the bloody opening, but we couldn’t make any headway or even see the brain. Dr. T couldn’t see a thing and blood was spilling up and over the edges of the skull.
A nurse started to read the falling blood pressures. “110/65, 90/50, 70/40, 55/nil. Then the anaesthesiologist said, “We’ve lost him. Blood pressure crashed to unmeasurable.” The nurse was squeezing bags of blood into him but couldn’t keep up with what was pouring out.
Now if this happens in the abdomen, you compress the bleeder or place clamps. But in the brain, you don’t have those options. But cool as a cucumber, Dr. T stuck his hands below the surface of the blood and began feeling about. He tied off the carotids proximal to the bleed. Then suddenly our suction worked. And the blood pressure came up from zero. Dr. T examined the area and laughed. “There was a second aneurysm hiding behind the first one,” he exclaimed. A second silver clip was placed. Then the carotid ligatures were removed.
I turned to the anesthesiologist and said, “Were you scared?” “No,” he said. “Just sad. He was dead and I saw no hope that we could get him back. Such a young man.” Two hours later I related the story to the patient’s wife. On follow up, the patient did great. He even got his vision back.
I have never seen such cold blooded rapid action under fire. Dr. T didn’t even take a second to swear. Afterwards in the doctors’ lounge, he smiled and said, “It’s more fun when it goes like that.”
Blueberry Puffs
Ingredients
- 2 cups fresh or 1 bag frozen blueberries
- 1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
- 1/3 cup water
- 1 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
- 1/4 teaspoon allspice
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice
- 1/3 cup light brown sugar
- 12 slices bread
- 6 eggs
- 2 cups Half-and-Half
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
Instructions
- Mix first 7 ingredients in a saucepan. Heat until the sauce is semi-thick. Set aside and cool to room temperature.
- Cut crusts from bread. Spray a 2-quart rectangular glass pan with a nonstick pan coating. Cover the bottom of pan with 6 bread slices.
- In separate bowl, mix eggs, Half-and-Half, vanilla extract and sugar. Pour half of this mixture over bread.
- Spread thickened, cooled blueberry sauce over bottom layer.
- Arrange the other half of the bread on top of blueberry filling.
- Pour remaining egg mixture over the top.
- Sprinkle with a dash of nutmeg.
- Cover and place in refrigerator overnight.
- Bake in a preheated 350 degrees F oven for 60 minutes.
- Let stand for 10 minutes before cutting into 6 servings or 12 servings for a buffet.
- Top with brown sugar and a few blueberries.
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What is a coder’s worst nightmare?
This was mine:
I was hired by a psychologist to fix a program that seemed to have “strange output” written by one of his ex-grad students. It was a program that reads a data file, asks about 50 questions, does some calculations, and comes up with some score based on this PhD’s research. It’s on a research 3B2 at the university. He demonstrates the program and sure enough there seemed to be strange flashing words on the screen when it moves from question to question, and they don’t seem nice. I agree to do it, should be pretty straightforward, so he’ll pay me by the hour to determine how big the fix is and then we’ll agree to a fee.
Day 1
I sit down at the 3B2 and login to the ex-grad student’s account that has been given to me. This is where the code resides. I examine the C code. It is written to be hard to read. All the code is squished on one line. It’s spread over 15 files with about 3 functions per file — all on one line. All variable names are just three, seemingly random, letters. I talk to the guy and agree to go with hourly on this (great decision). I untangle all the code and format it nicely so I can see it.
It was done on purpose. It used the curses library to move to a point on the screen, print a question and the answers, and wait for a response. But it first went to the first line of the question, printed some white supremacy message, waited 1/2 a second, and then overwrote it with the question. This ought to be simple. There are only about five places it could output anything, and all of them had this subliminal flash of a message. Each one was hard coded. No problem. Delete the offending mvprintw() and all is well. Or should be. I compile, thinking I’m done. But when I ran it, there it is again — the subliminal messages. This time with different text still the same subject, just different messages.
I check my code and believe it or not it’s back to the initial state I found it. 15 files, mangled, 3-letter variables — the whole thing right back where I started. I want shoot myself for not making a copy of my code. I unmangle again, this time putting it in three files, named differently. I make a copy of the whole directory, and I mark the files readable only. I compiled it. All looks good. I run the program. There’s now a copy of the original 15 files in the directory along with mine and the subliminal messages are back.
Okay, so somewhere on the disk is the source code necessary to keep doing this and he’s set the program up to pull in that code when you compile it. I do a full disk search in the include areas (/usr/include) and since this is a research version we have source for just about everything but the kernel itself. That’s a lot of header files and this takes some time on the 3B2, so that’s day 1.
Day 2
The disk search showed up nothing. The strings were apparently either encrypted or they are buried in a library somewhere. Because I don’t have check sums of all the original executable objects, I decide to search all libraries for the text. This is even longer than before, so day two is over.
Day 3
No results. The strings are encrypted. That means I’m going to have to follow all the header files from each #include and each one they #include to find where this is. And that will, take some time. We do alert the campus computing department that we believe someone has gained root level access to Dr. Phelps research computer, which is just a shared lab computer in the science building. They’re understandably not convinced.
I start unwinding the #include files. I do that, nowhere do I find the code. So now I know it’s compiled in a library. No problem at all. Why not just recompile all those libraries, we do have the source after all.
Days 4-6
The hardest part, convincing the campus nerds they have an issue. But we finally do and Mark, the Unix admin who was hired because he married the Dean’s daughter, gets busy learning how to do this. In the end, he agrees to allow me to handle it, because he just doesn’t really know how to get all that stuff compiled. End of Day 6, all standard libraries are recompiled. Woo hoo!
I whip out my modified, cleaned up source and start the compile. All looks good. I run it. O M G. It did it again. 15 messed up source files and the subliminal messages are back. This is suddenly like magic. I investigate very very carefully though I am stumped. This code doesn’t exist in source code. I think I might be beaten. Dr. Phelps isn’t happy with the hours involved and thinks maybe we ought to just rewrite the program from scratch. “Sure”, I say staring at the terminal like a lost puppy too deep in my thoughts to put out of my thinking mode, “I think you’re right. That will be quicker.” “Good,” he says, “we can start tomorrow.”
Day 7
To hell with that. This guy isn’t beating me. We are compiling it from his stinking code or not at all! “You don’t have to pay me anymore, Dr. Phelps, I just want lab time.” This is nerd war.
Days 8-14
I get smart, I’m thinking he somehow modified the curses library. I compile the curses code to assembly and though I don’t know 3B2 assembly (yet!), I start learning. I read manuals for 6 days, piecing together that assembly code. Waste of time, nothing seems unusual.
Day 15
I suddenly realize it’s in the compiler. It was the compiler. And every time you compile the original code and run it puts in the subliminal message code into the source code. I’d heard of this before.
Ah ah! I’ve got him!!!! We have the source code for the compiler as well. I search through it looking for a reference. Lo and behold, I find it. Indeed. There is source code in the compiler/linker that does this:
1) it examines any call to fopen(), searches the file opened looking for Dr. Phelp’s questions; if it finds them then
2) it rewrites the 15 files to the current directory when compiling that specific program.
3) It then compiles Dr. Phelps program using the 15 files and outputs to the -o name in the link phase.
The compiler was modified to put that code in Dr. Phelps program was written by the man that modified the compiler.
Several days later, an AT&T tech shows up with a disk and loads the proper compile and linker source and we recompile the compiler from the source. That solves it. All the bad source in the compiler is gone and we’ve got a new clean copy of the compiler.
Except it didn’t. Because the compiler was poisoned with other source code that we didn’t have. And that source code, that now existed only in the executable compiler, put those changes back into the compiler source before it compiled it. But this time it didn’t modify the /usr/src copy, it copied it to a hidden directory, modified the compiler source, compiled itself from there, and deleted the hidden directory. It took an AT&T tech to find this. The ex-grad student had poisoned the compiler to poison itself when it was recompiled. We had to put a new binary version of the compiler on disk from another 3B2 running the same revision before the problem went away.
We also found that if /sbin/login is compiled it puts in a backdoor allowing anyone who uses a specific password to login in as the root user. This computer is accessible by modem and Tymnet. Finally, this gets the computing center’s attention.
Genius! But put to a horrible cause.
Scott Ritter: Russia just DESTROYED Blinken, NATO with this Move and China Wins Big
Vintage fun
Can you destroy your entire life with one wrong decision?
I was 41 yrs old and I had never broken a bone or had stitches, I was a hard working individual and apart from a slot machine addiction of many decades, my life was great. I had met my soul mate back in 2002 and we had lived together since 2003. I was a delivery driver and I simply loved being out on the road with no hassle from bosses. I pretty much worked the hours I wanted because I had earned that right through the hard work I always give.
Long story short ish, like an idiot I tried to move something in the front of the van to the back so it could be unloaded off and I felt something pop in my lower back. I went through the NHS system in the U.K. and the MRI showed I had ruptured my L5/S1 disc. Not a massive hole but enough to warrant a lower back op and they were going to remove the disc and plate it up using screws. The day of the op I had a real bad vibe. I wasn’t impressed to be told I had to have this operation, because the accident happened while I was working and because I didn’t get paid if I was off on sick, it was advised I started a claim against my employers, basically just for the loss of earnings I was going to lose for however lomg I was unable to work after this operation. My employers were amazing from the start, they fully accepted responsibility and I was told to take as much time off because my job would still be waiting for me upon my return. Without sounding bigheaded, I was very good at my job, not just because I could drive a van in the centre of London, but the way I treated the customers and feedback always got back to my boss just how much they appreciated me and yes I did go that mile (no pun intended). So admitting liability helped me out big time. The problem was, I had to do everything to get myself back working as soon as possible. Besides, the success rate was over 99%, so why was I worried. It’s a kin to a fear of flying, it’s the safest way to travel but yet, so many of us fear flying. So what’s the worse that’s going to happen to me……..
That decision to go ahead with that op ruined the rest of my life. It’s now 15 years since I had the original operation. I lay in a bed for 23 hrs a day every single day. I take one of the highest dosages of opiates in the U.K. (according to a senior medical official) and goodness knows what the long term consequences are of taking opiates for so long. I haven’t touched my partner in over a decade and if I was an animal they’d of shot me the same day after that operation. The worse thing for me is, I was told everything went great, no issues at all. So why am I feeling pain like I’ve never felt pain before, it was horrendous. No one knew why, 15 years later and still no one knows why. Don’t get me wrong, during the last 15 yrs everything and anything has been done, sorry, I say 15 yrs, it’s actually 10 yrs. After the 10 yrs I was informed there was nothing else the NHS could do and I was discharged all the while still suffering that very same pain.
I lost everything. But that was just the beginning. I ended up in £42k in debt from interest payments being added to my credit cards because technically, I was still employed and sick pay was just £60 a week back then. But that’s only paid for 6 months, after that you have to be paid via the government and back in 2010 they decided to revamp the social security payments. I was then given just £41 a week for just short of 2 years. I was told I had to wait until it was my turn, but not to worry, it will all get backdated if I was successful with my claim……. My rent alone was £650 a month and I maxed out every credit card I had, I had no choice. When all that ran out I was entered into a debt repayment program and 10 years later, the £42k debt was scrapped. Thanks to my gran, I never missed a payment for 10 years.
Talk about having to jump through hoops for my benefits, I was treated like the rest of society who claimed benefits, like I was trying to cheat the system and all the up to Covid 19 in 2020, I had to be assessed 2 times a year for each benefit and I was claiming 3 benefits. Disability, industrial injury benefit and employment support benefit. That meant I had to travel 6 times a year to wherever they sent me to be assessed, if I miss one appointment ALL my benefits are stopped. It didn’t matter what I told them about being in bed for 23 hrs a day or I couldn’t walk anywhere without going through the pains of hell.
In the early days, everyone thought I was putting it on so I didn’t have to work, like that’s going to help my cause right! But eventually the appointments became less and less and touchwood, I’ve had just one appointment since 2020 Covid. They still only pay the minimum despite being a genuine case, so I’ve had to do what I could to get by. My life is still ruined though. My GoFund page which is in my bio was supposed to pay for a private operation somewhere who knows about this kind of lower back pain. The problem is, no one will even reply to emails unless you have the cash right there and so far I’ve precisely 1 donation which was me because I was convinced people were giving but the page wasn’t working, so yes the page is working but for whatever reasons, I’m still waiting for the first donation but this post is NOT about begging for cash. That’s not me or how I work. I replied to this question because I did have this story to share and I know of others who are simply forgotten about when an operation goes astray.
So yes, you can destroy your life with a single decision.
On the plus side – at least my job is still open for when I am able to return back to work. Although I only have another 11 years to hit retirement age. That’s going to be another massive issue because I have not been able to pay into my private pension for the last 15 years.
Thanks for reading if you made it thus far. All unfortunately very true as I lay on my back in bed with my knees raised.
The America We Knew: November 1975 (the first 10 seconds will give you chills)
Is China really as powerful as we Indians think?
China is far more powerful than most Indians think.
I won’t share the usual stuff about GDP etc, but rather some anecdata (quantitative information I have personally come across), because that’s what I can personally contribute.
I was at a business conference and the German MD of a very large semiconductor company (they are all very large, to be fair) was speaking. He shared some stats about China’s share in global manufacturing capacity, specific to green tech:
- Wind towers – 60%
- Wind nacelles (the thing the blades are attached to) – 60%
- Cathodes and anodes: 70%
- Cells: 83%
- Batteries: 74%
- Semiconductor wafers: 94%
Note that this is not China’s share vs that of India. No. It is China’s share vs. that of the Rest of the World.
This is all installed capacity. Once it’s purchased, it is impossibly expensive to replace, so not only do these things make money through direct sales, they continue generating income through services, maintenance, parts, etc.
They’re not manufacturing goods. They’re manufacturing dependence. Just like you have an entire ecosystem of applications based on the SAP ERP, these capital goods will establish new standards which will require new companies.
Another anecdote. I was in Hamburg, Germany, last year for my birthday (I live in Berlin). It has a pretty impressive port. I wanted to know where Hamburg ranked among the top ports in the world, and where India came in.
Here’s that list. Can you see a common trend here?
The first Indian port comes in at #35.
Travel to Europe or any other tourist destination, and you’ll see just how many more Chinese tourists there are compared to Indians. It’s not a few percentage points, it’s orders of magnitude.
Go to UK, Canada, parts of Europe and look at who owns property. Sure, some obscenely rich Indian might own a prominent palatial central London residence, but there will be apartment blocks owned by the Chinese. I rent an apartment in a newly constructed apartment complex in central Berlin. It is advertised as an investment property destination in China and Hong Kong.
These are all anecdotal, but ever since I’ve moved out of India, one thing has become clearer than it ever was: China is already a true global superpower which is getting even more powerful by the day. And it’s a systematic takeover of future cash flows.
Of course, like India, China has its problems. India is doing fairly well as an economy—indeed, at the moment, better than many developed economies including China. However, make no mistake, it is decades behind China in terms of power and influence on a global stage. There is really no comparison.
You want the ultimate irony here? Today is Dassehra, and if you do a search for a portable temple for home on Amazon (or buy it from a nearby store), you’ll most likely get a product that’s made in China. While India prays to God, the Chinese are laughing their way to the bank.
It won’t change unless we really start asking, “How can we be as powerful as China?” instead of whether China is really as powerful as we think.
What’s the most depressing thing you saw as a police officer?
In 1987 I responded to a call about senior citizen abuse. It was a hot day and I went to this little, old apartment. This little old man was left in a worn out old recliner sitting in the middle of the floor, no furniture, no AC, no water. He had been sitting there for who knows how long. He was crazy with dehydration and out of his mind. I called EMS and they transported him to the hospital. His children had cleaned him out and left him there to rot.
My very first suicide was a guy who shot himself in the chest with a .357 magnum. When he died he had that horror look on his face like he knew he messed up. That one was 32 years ago and I can still see it. I saw many, many, many death cases over the years, all sad in there own way. I have been on hundreds of homicides.
The one that sticks was a female counselor who had a sexual relation ship with a client. He was a drug addict and crazy. Eventually he murdered her in her bed. Then he ran a tub of water and drowned her baby. Sick bastard. Earlier that day I had been on a homicide where a guy killed his wife and put her to bed, pulling the sheets up to her neck. I went looking for him and found him dead in his car. He killed himself.
Another sad one was this sweet old lady decided that life was more than she could bear. She laid out the dress she wanted to be buried in. Then she overdosed on pills, but didn’t actually die. She should have but, didn’t. The last time I saw her she was in a vegetative state. She went from the issues being in her head to actually being in terrible shape. Nothing’s worse than a failed suicide with permanent injury. I’ve seen it more than once.
As a side note (very important). Over the years we responded to a lot of found bodies sitting on the toilet. The Medical Examiner once told me that for your health there’s nothing more important than making sure to eat your fiber. Don’t strain real hard on the toilet. You can bust a gasket and die in there. Eat your fiber.
Ex-CIA: US Pentagon TERRIFIED Over New Russia Strike Plan!
What were lies told by your parents?
Disclaimer: This isn’t a cute, funny story about things parents say to their kids and everybody laughs about later. It’s a cautionary tale about how narcissistic parents can impact their children’s lives.
When I was a little girl, my toxic, abusive, yet fiercely religious mother TOLD me that *telling lies* was egregious, and would be subject to severe punishment up to and including eternal damnation.
At the same time, she SHOWED me that *telling the truth* was egregious, and would be subject to severe punishment up to and including eternal damnation.
Let me explain using a couple of examples. First, regarding telling lies:
- Little me, trying to get away with dropping and breaking a dish: “I didn’t do it. It wasn’t me!”
- Mother, who didn’t witness the incident but claimed to have done: “You’re a LIAR! I SEEN ya! Daddy, I think she needs a GOOD SPANKUN’.” Off comes the belt.
- Lesson learned: Don’t tell lies.
Next, regarding telling the truth:
- Little me, after admitting to a nosy neighbor something I didn’t know was supposed to be a secret: “Mom, Mrs. Carlson asked me if you dye your hair. I said yes.”
- Mother, who had just used her latest box of Miss Clairol’s Red Penny Number 416 that morning: “You’re a LIAR! That ain’t true and you know it! Daddy, I think she needs a GOOD SPANKUN’.” Off comes the belt.
- Lesson learned: Don’t tell the truth.
Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t, both in this life and in the next.
I, as well as my four younger sibs, grew up very confused about what lies and truth actually are. Each of us learned to be very careful about what we said or didn’t say, because we never knew where the land mines were buried. We all were damaged psychologically — which affects us even as older adults — but the symptoms and severity are as individual as we are.
What is the most amazing thing you overheard because people didn’t think you understood their language?
When I was in high school I got a job in a restaurant as a hostess. When I had to go in back to clock into work I had to walk through the area with all the male prep cooks and dishwashers who all primarily spoke Spanish. I was young, pretty and well-endowed, and they all noticed it. For a couple weeks, I would walk into the back and listen as they all made edgy comments about me and my appearance and what they’d like to do to/ with me. I just ignored them.
A couple weeks after I started, I walked through the back to clock in and one of the new employees said something particularly vile about what he’d like to do to me. I stopped, whipped around, and in Spanish “read him the riot act” about talking about me so disrespectfully and inappropriately. I watched as jaws dropped all over the room, different men realizing the things they’d said when I was walking by and in earshot.
Profound apologies came for days. I don’t think any of them would have spoken so coarsely about me if they had realized I could understand. After that they all treated me like a little sister, very respectful, some standing up for me when others started to go off track.
Our relationships with others are indeed governed by sentience, and the older I get the more I realize that, as well as another sobering truth: true communication is only really possible among equals. Not very politically correct anymore, I guess. But rather truth than trying to shoehorn oneself into the World of the Soul-Crushingly Banal in order to please others– especially when we’re younger and less experienced in the ways of the world.