My father was AWOL in teaching me on how to cook.
It is sad to say, but when he was around, he told me to “just do it”, rather than taking the time to teach me.
This was true when cooking hamburgers, except that at that time he was on a diet and wanted me to squeeze out all the grease out of the meat patty. And that cost me decades of poor cooking.
And as far as carving a turkey goes, yeah. I was completely clueless.
So guys, here is how you are supposed to carve a turkey…
Carving a turkey is a key skill for serving a beautiful and delicious holiday meal. Here’s a step-by-step guide to help you carve a turkey like a pro:
What You’ll Need:
- A sharp carving knife
- A sturdy carving fork
- A clean cutting board
- A platter for serving
Steps to Carve a Turkey:
- Let the Turkey Rest:
- After roasting, let the turkey rest for 20-30 minutes. This allows the juices to redistribute, making the meat moist and easier to carve.
- Remove the Legs and Thighs:
- Hold the turkey steady with a carving fork.
- Use the knife to cut through the skin between the leg and the body.
- Gently pull the leg away from the body and cut through the joint to remove the entire leg and thigh.
- Separate the thigh from the drumstick by cutting through the joint.
- Slice the Breast Meat:
- Make a horizontal cut along the bottom of the breast, close to the wing, to create a base for slicing.
- Starting from the top, slice downward in even, thin slices. Angle the knife slightly for larger slices.
- Repeat on the other side.
- Remove the Wings:
- Cut through the joint where the wing connects to the body.
- You can serve the wings whole or separate them into drumettes and wingettes.
- Serve the Dark and White Meat:
- Arrange the sliced breast meat, thighs, drumsticks, and wings on a platter.
- Optionally, you can remove the remaining meat from the carcass for additional servings.
Tips for Success:
- Use a sharp knife to ensure clean cuts.
- Carve the turkey on a stable surface to avoid accidents.
- If you’re not serving immediately, cover the carved turkey with foil to keep it warm.
Enjoy your beautifully carved turkey!
Now, while I am at it, let’s consider some ideas on seasoning…
Seasoning a turkey is essential for bringing out its flavor and ensuring a delicious, memorable meal. Here are some tips and techniques to help you season your turkey perfectly:
1. Brining (Optional but Highly Recommended):
- What it does: Brining helps keep the turkey moist and adds flavor.
- How to brine:
- Dissolve 1 cup of salt and 1/2 cup of sugar in 1 gallon of water (adjust quantities based on the size of your turkey and brine container).
- Add herbs, spices, or aromatics like garlic, peppercorns, bay leaves, or citrus zest for extra flavor.
- Submerge the turkey in the brine and refrigerate for 12-24 hours.
- Rinse the turkey thoroughly and pat it dry before seasoning and roasting.
2. Dry Rubs:
- A dry rub is a mixture of spices and herbs that you apply directly to the turkey’s skin and under the skin.
- Classic Dry Rub Recipe:
- 2 tbsp salt
- 1 tbsp black pepper
- 1 tbsp paprika
- 1 tbsp garlic powder
- 1 tbsp onion powder
- 1 tsp dried thyme
- 1 tsp dried rosemary
- How to apply:
- Pat the turkey dry with paper towels.
- Gently loosen the skin over the breast and thighs with your fingers.
- Rub the seasoning mixture under the skin and all over the outside of the turkey.
3. Herb Butter:
- Herb butter adds richness and flavor to the turkey.
- Herb Butter Recipe:
- Mix 1 cup softened butter with 2-3 cloves minced garlic, 2 tbsp chopped fresh herbs (like thyme, rosemary, sage, or parsley), and salt and pepper to taste.
- How to apply:
- Gently loosen the skin over the breast and thighs.
- Spread the herb butter under the skin and over the outside of the turkey.
- For extra flavor, place additional herb sprigs or aromatics (like garlic, onion, or citrus) inside the cavity.
4. Aromatics in the Cavity:
- Stuffing the cavity with aromatics infuses the turkey with flavor from the inside out.
- Aromatic Ideas:
- Halved onions, garlic cloves, lemon or orange wedges, fresh herbs (thyme, rosemary, sage), or celery stalks.
- Tip: Avoid overstuffing the cavity, as this can restrict airflow and lead to uneven cooking.
5. Seasoning the Skin:
- Don’t forget to season the outside of the turkey generously with salt and pepper. This helps create a flavorful, crispy skin.
6. Glazes or Marinades (Optional):
- For added flavor, brush the turkey with a glaze during the last 30-45 minutes of roasting.
- Glaze Ideas:
- Maple syrup and Dijon mustard
- Honey and soy sauce
- Orange juice and brown sugar
7. Resting and Finishing:
- After roasting, let the turkey rest for 20-30 minutes before carving. This allows the juices to redistribute, ensuring moist meat.
- If desired, sprinkle fresh herbs over the carved turkey for a final touch of flavor and presentation.
Pro Tips:
- Salt generously: Salt is key to enhancing the turkey’s natural flavor.
- Balance flavors: Combine savory, sweet, and aromatic elements for a well-rounded taste.
- Experiment: Don’t be afraid to try new herbs, spices, or seasoning blends to suit your taste.
Let me know if you’d like a full recipe or roasting guide!
Ah. This is making me hungry.
Today…
US aiming at Greenland and Panama in preparation for confrontation with China and Russia
Cherry Cordial Cookies
Yield: about 4 dozen cookies
Ingredients
- 1 cup (2 sticks) butter or margarine, divided (do not use vegetable oil spread)
- 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 (9 ounce) package golden yellow cake mix
- 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
- 20 maraschino cherries, drained and patted dry
- 4 (1 ounce) squares semisweet baking chocolate
- 1/2 cup almonds, finely chopped
Instructions
- Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
- In Small Batter Bowl, microwave 1 stick of the butter on HIGH 45 seconds or until melted. Slice remaining butter into 1/2-inch pieces; add to melted butter, tossing to coat. Let butter stand 2 to 3 minutes or until softened.
- Combine flour and cake mix in Classic Batter Bowl; mix well.
- Using Stainless Steel Whisk, whisk butter until smooth and free of lumps; add almond extract. Pour butter, all at once, into dry ingredients. Using Bamboo Spoon, mix until dry ingredients are incorporated and dough is smooth. (If dough is too stiff to stir, knead until smooth by hand on Cutting Board.)
- Fill Cookie Press, fitted with #5 disk, with dough. Press dough onto flat Baking Stone, 1 inch apart. Slice cherries in half; press one half onto center of each cookie.
- Bake 15 to 17 minutes or until very light golden brown.
- Cool 3 minutes on baking stone; remove to Stackable Cooling Rack. Cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough.
- Microwave chocolate in Small Micro-Cooker(R), uncovered, on HIGH 1 minute or until melted and smooth; drizzle over cookies.
- Sprinkle almonds over cookies.
Notes
If you have only one baking stone, press the second batch of cookies onto Parchment Paper, cut to the size of the baking stone. As you remove one batch of cookies from the oven, unbaked cookies can be quickly placed onto the baking stone and into the oven. This will save time as well as clean-up.
Nutrition
Per serving: (1 cookie): Calories 100, Total Fat 6g, Saturated Fat 3g, Cholesterol 10mg, Carbohydrate 10g, Protein 1g, Sodium 75mg, Fiber less than 1g
Attribution
Pampered Chef
McDonald’s is DESPERATE! PLEASE COME BACK!
Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Vanishing Scarecrow
Ah, dear reader, you’ve graced me with your presence once more. I can only assume it’s because you’ve become addicted to tales of my unmatched brilliance and unparalleled problem-solving skills. Don’t worry—this story will not disappoint.
Today, I’ll recount a peculiar case that involved a missing scarecrow, a flock of gossiping crows, and, of course, my wise feathered colleague, Sedgwick the barn owl. It was a mystery unlike any other, filled with twists, turns, and more hay than I care to admit. Buckle up for the tale of The Vanishing Scarecrow.
The Scarecrow Goes AWOL
It all began on a crisp autumn morning. The farm was alive with the smell of freshly cut hay and the faint aroma of apples from the orchard. I was conducting my usual morning patrol (which is to say, I was enjoying a leisurely stroll to the milk pail) when I heard Farmer Joe’s voice echo across the fields.
“Where in tarnation is my scarecrow?!”
I stopped mid-step, my ears perking up. A missing scarecrow? Intriguing. Most scarecrows, in my experience, tend to stay exactly where they’re placed—motionless and uninteresting. The fact that this one had apparently disappeared was, to say the least, unusual.
As I approached the field where the scarecrow usually stood, I found Farmer Joe scratching his head and muttering to himself. The spot where the scarecrow once stood was now just an empty wooden post, surrounded by trampled grass. A few crows were perched nearby, cackling like they’d just heard the funniest joke of their lives.
“Strange,” I murmured to myself. “Very strange.”
Enter Sedgwick
As I examined the scene, a familiar flutter of wings announced the arrival of Sedgwick. He landed gracefully on the wooden post, his amber eyes scanning the field with quiet intensity.
“Good morning, Sir Whiskerton,” Sedgwick said in his usual deep, regal tone. “I heard Farmer Joe’s lamentations from the barn. What seems to be the issue?”
“Farmer Joe’s scarecrow has gone missing,” I explained, gesturing to the empty post. “I was just about to investigate.”
“A missing scarecrow,” Sedgwick mused, tilting his head. “How peculiar. Scarecrows are not known for their mobility.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which means someone—or something—must have moved it.”
“Or perhaps it simply… walked away,” Sedgwick said, his tone laced with dry humor.
I smirked. “Let’s hope it hasn’t developed a mind of its own. Shall we investigate?”
“Lead the way,” Sedgwick said, spreading his wings slightly. “I’ll keep an eye from above.”
The First Clue
The first thing I noticed was the trampled grass around the scarecrow’s post. It looked as though something—or multiple somethings—had been dragging the scarecrow away. I sniffed the ground and picked up a faint scent of straw and… feathers?
“Feathers,” I said aloud, glancing up at Sedgwick. “Our first clue.”
Sedgwick ruffled his own feathers thoughtfully. “Interesting. I suspect the local crow population may know more than they’re letting on.”
I turned my gaze to the crows perched on a nearby fence. They were still laughing among themselves, as if they’d just pulled off the prank of the century.
“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” I said, padding over to the fence.
The Crows Spill the Beans
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Sedgwick said, addressing the crows with a polite nod. “We couldn’t help but notice your… enthusiasm. Care to share what’s so amusing?”
The largest of the crows, a scruffy bird with a bent tail feather, cackled and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little, uh… hayfield humor.”
“Is that so?” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Because it seems an entire scarecrow has gone missing, and you lot look suspiciously entertained.”
The crows exchanged glances, their laughter faltering slightly. “Alright, alright,” the scruffy one said. “We might’ve seen something. But you didn’t hear it from us.”
“Go on,” Sedgwick prompted, his calm demeanor clearly unnerving the crows.
“Fine,” the crow said. “We saw a couple of sheep dragging the scarecrow toward the orchard last night. They said something about ‘fixing it up.’ We thought it was strange, but hey, who are we to judge?”
“Sheep,” I said, my tail flicking thoughtfully. “Of course. Let’s pay a visit to the flock.”
“Good luck,” the crow called as we walked away. “Those woolly weirdos never make any sense!”
The Sheep’s Scheme
We found the sheep grazing in the pasture, looking as innocent as ever. Well, except for Clover, the goat, who was standing nearby chewing on something that looked suspiciously like a piece of burlap.
“Clover,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Is that… part of the scarecrow?”
She froze mid-chew, her eyes wide. “Uh… no?”
“Clover,” Sedgwick said, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Fine,” Clover sighed, spitting out the burlap. “It wasn’t my idea, okay? The sheep wanted to give the scarecrow a ‘makeover.’ Said it wasn’t scary enough. So we, uh, borrowed it.”
“Borrowed it?” I repeated, incredulous. “Where is it now?”
“In the orchard,” Clover admitted. “But it’s not my fault! They wouldn’t let me help with the sewing!”
The Orchard Discovery
Sedgwick and I made our way to the orchard, where we found the scarecrow—or what was left of it. The sheep had clearly tried to “improve” it, but their handiwork left much to be desired. The scarecrow now had a lopsided hat, a mismatched pair of gloves, and a face that looked like it had been drawn by a blindfolded raccoon. (Speaking of raccoons, Rufus was lounging in a nearby tree, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of it.)
“Impressive,” Sedgwick said dryly, examining the scarecrow. “It appears their intentions were… creative, if misguided.”
“This is a disaster,” I muttered. “Farmer Joe’s going to have a fit when he sees this.”
“Not necessarily,” Sedgwick said, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. “Perhaps we can salvage the situation.”
The Great Scarecrow Rescue
With Sedgwick’s guidance, we managed to restore the scarecrow to its original state—or something close to it. The crows even pitched in, albeit reluctantly, helping us stitch the burlap face back together. Clover and the sheep apologized profusely, and Rufus, after much cajoling, agreed to stop laughing and hold the scarecrow steady while we fixed its hat.
By the time we were finished, the scarecrow was back on its post, standing tall and ready to scare off any would-be intruders. Farmer Joe arrived shortly after and, to my surprise, seemed pleased.
“Well, would ya look at that,” he said, scratching his head. “Looks even better than before. Thanks, Whiskerton. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”
The Moral of the Story
Sometimes, even the best intentions can lead to chaos, but with a little teamwork (and a lot of patience), things can be set right. And remember: if you’re going to “borrow” something, maybe ask first.
The End.
What was the most expensive thing you ever got for free, because someone made a mistake and didn’t charge you?
Happened during COVID – I purchased some expensive, high-spec hiking boots online – £320 (about $405) – they arrived promptly but they were slightly different colours (as if the left one had been in shop window and faded a bit).
They were otherwise great.
I emailed the company with a view to maybe getting a small discount for the imperfection and to inform them of the fault. I received an almost immediate reply to say they were sending me a new pair and would email to me separately a return slip for the faulty boots which would be collected by the courier separately.
The next week the (perfect) new boots arrived, but no return slip had yet arrived by email and inexplicably, on the same day, my credit card was credited with a full refund.
So by then I have two pairs of boots, no return slip and by virtue of the refund, I haven’t paid for either pair.
I emailed the company and received a very apologetic reply thus: “. . . we are incredibly sorry that due to a succession of errors in our processing, our service level to you was unacceptable. Because of this and taking into account your purchase history with our company (I had none), and due to current courier difficulties caused the pandemic, please consider this matter concluded. . . “ Essentially I took this to mean I could keep the boots and the refund and I’ve never heard another thing (4 1/2 years).
I used boot polish to bring the original pair up to a consistent colour and gave them to a homeless guy along with some hiking socks – he was so pleased he cried, and then I cried because he cried FFS!!
The Illusion of Now
Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: It’s the most wonderful time of the year — except your character can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.… view prompt
Rida Kidwai
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re just tired.” Donna replied, as she chuckled and sipped on her coffee. I suddenly felt a close bond with Donna. As if this conversation brought us closer and a new chapter was unlocked in our friendship. I couldn’t tell if she felt the same but I couldn’t explain it so I just smiled and shook off the strange thoughts.
“Anyways, you know my brother? He recently started his program. You can think of it like a simulation. Isn’t it cool?”
“Like a game?” I replied, thinking hard about the word program.
“Yeah, it’s so cool.” We continued to talk about her interests and what she was into lately until it struck noon.
Once our interaction was over, I kept wondering about the cool game Donna’s brother had invented. Inventing programs like that took a great deal of work and it seemed interesting to me. However, thinking about the game only seemed like a distraction as no thought could divert my mind from the odd occurrences that happened and why I couldn’t think of anything. I tried remembering about last week and the week before but my mind felt so foggy it started pulsing again. As I drove home, I decided to go on a small stroll around the neighbourhood and like Donna said, to experience some positive memories.
As I strolled around the white neighbourhood, I discovered a small hill up in the valley. I planned to sit on top of it so I headed my way towards it. As I started climbing, the chilly weather started to hit me and I realized that this hill was much higher than it seemed. I continued to climb and as I decided to turn around, my foot was misplaced and I fell backward, banging my head on a rock. My eyes dimmed out and the last thing I saw was the bright blue sky fading into a black mist.
My eyes fluttered open again, and at first, I thought I was back in my bed, waking up at 6:00 am. However, as I became aware of my surroundings, I realized I was still in the same place I fell. Horrifically, I stood up and gingerly touched my head. My fingers searched for wounds but there were none. Not even a scratch. My pulse quickened and a close sweat broke out on my forehead. I could’ve sworn a few minutes ago I fainted or dropped dead. Curiously, I continued climbing up the hill as if I was trying to accomplish something. Which, I did. Once I finally reached the top of this hill I felt an unspoken sense of pride and hope as if I had just unlocked some sort of achievement in my life. I felt complete. I smiled as I slid down the slippery hill and lay down in the white snow. Just then, my eyes widened as I saw a tree branch almost fall on me. I dodged it with flexible agility and skill. Before the thought occurred to me, I was hit by a sharp pain in my arm as I set it down on a twig. This reminded me that I was not invincible. Nor was I a witch. I breathed out of fear and continued walking on the sidewalk. That was strange. I thought again. This thought came to my mind several times today.
As I kept walking, I passed by a small area which was labelled “under construction.” When I took a closer look, it was a giant pothole and several construction men grinning and waving at me. The pothole was perfectly circular and there was no dirt to be seen whatsoever. Observing this, my opinion of a very strange atmosphere solidified further. After walking for a while, my mind was constantly racing about my falling, the interaction with the cashier, and the pothole, until I bumped into something and bounced back. I looked around yet there was nothing in front of me. I walked again yet was bounced back. I was puzzled and tried touching whatever shield was blocking me. Suddenly, a horrific thought occurred to me. Forcefield? It can’t be. I didn’t want to be trapped.
A sudden wave of panic washed over me, making me feel suffocated in my world. I ran back quickly and raced towards the forcefield. To no surprise, I was bounced back with little force and tears started swelling up in my eyes. I ran back towards home and jumped on my computer. Hunger. I was feeling hungry again and my stomach rumbled, dragging me out of my chair. I turned on the stove and sat back down at my desk. I stood determined and searched for clues and ideas as to why all of this might be happening and why there was a forcefield in the middle of our world.
Sweat dripped down my forehead as my fingers casually tapped all the correct letters on my keyboard. I was getting annoyed by it and tried hard to make a mistake. No matter how hard I tried, that “backspace” button started collecting dust. Magic…Harry Potter…Therapy? No search matched up with the ideas that I was looking for, as I aggressively searched for more concepts that could make sense. Nothing. It was at that moment that I realized I made a grave mistake. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blazing light erupt in my kitchen. You can infer that I was not the best in the kitchen nor was cooking a skill I would like to improve on. I rushed to the kitchen and saw a massive fire consume my kitchen. Out of panic, I hurriedly rushed back to my bedroom, searching for my phone as the fire spread quickly, trapping me. The fire grew so massive that it surrounded me from all sides with no escape. Within a few minutes of horror, I closed my eyes, enduring the horrible pain I felt.
***
Once again, I woke up with my mind dizzy. Laying on what felt like a cloud, I swung my heavy legs off the bed unconsciously. Just when I snapped back into reality, I tried recalling what happened before. I quickly took a slow, trembling look at my hands and tumbled to the mirror to look at my face. No burns, no bruises… nor did my house disintegrate into ashes. I clutched my hair in confusion and thought I was stuck in some sort of curse. Suddenly, I felt like distancing myself from everyone. It was as if everyone was against me. The hunger in my stomach pierced me like a knife, dragging myself across the kitchen and simply picking an apple out of the fridge. As I ate it, my foggy mind was cleared and I felt energized once again. However, it didn’t sit right with me. I threw on my coat and jacket and ran outside towards the giant forcefield once more. I passed by the hill, the pothole and finally once I was at the forcefield, I bounced back instantly, falling on the ground. I pushed and pushed with my hands and screamed, putting all of my force in this shield.
Before I knew it, I had fallen forward into a black room. My heart dropped and my adrenaline raced as I was dropped many feet down. I yelled and looked up seeing my magical words fade into a blur. I shut my eyes and touched the ground lightly as if I had defied gravity. I opened my eyes a little bit and I jumped back, seeing only a man in a top hat staring at me. It was a dark black room with only a small monitor and a man. I took a look at the monitor and my heart dropped to my gut quickly, tying my stomach into a knot and making me feel sick.
“Great. Your user’s program is down.” The man said sarcastically. All I could see were his blue eyes, he was wearing a dark suit and a large, blue, top hat.
“Who are you?” I asked as the words came out smoothly, not like before.
“You aren’t supposed to be here, Lyra.” The man replied in an eerie and unsettling tone.
“How do you know who I am?” The words came out of my mouth very quickly, making the man grin. I assumed he knew I was terrified and nervous. “I know who everyone is.” He replied again.
“What is this place? I know what you’ve done.” I asked and stated anxiously, stepping closer to him. The monitor showed many codes and many screens. Cameras of children and pictures of us. “If you know, then you wouldn’t mind if I sent you back up there, now would you? After all, you’re on level 7 already. Your user is quite disappointed.” He said in a low voice.
“No. I’m done playing your game.” Literally. I thought in frustration. I ran to the monitor as he held up his hands and punched the man in his face. As the man relentlessly tried taking the monitor away from me, I managed to click on my profile and hovered over the giant red button. My hand shook and I was using one hand to keep the man away from me.
“You know what? Fine. Do it. Let’s see if your character lives up to your personality.” The GameMaster stood there with his arms crossed as a sinister grin grew on his face again. I could feel my sweat drip as I knew this was all one sick joke. I was being played into my life, not knowing what I would do. I had to do it. With great courage, I clicked the mouse on the delete button and I could feel my body slowly fade. I dropped to the ground and I could feel the life slowly fade from my eyes.
As my eyes faded, I saw one last thing hovering over me. In big, red, bold letters the word GAME OVER haunted me.
Japan Betrayed? US Cancels $15B Lifeline Deal, Raises Questions For G7 Economies & Allies
Why are Singaporeans suffering from identity crisis and lack of sense-of-belonging, being left out of its progress and swamped by foreigners?
Why should they feel that way? We call it ‘ Global cities’ and that’s the idea and it’s what and how the world is turning 180 degrees following the advancement of technology—
Being swamped by swarms of foreigners in Singapore? —Sure or not?
The only concern for Singaporeans is that the influx of people seeking opportunities can overwhelm infrastructure, like packed trains and frequent MRT breakdowns. A plus point is with added skills from playing more musical chairs at the hawker centers.
Let’s get serious.
If you look around, what do you see?—if you see people of all races, ethnicities and nationalities in your community- that’s it.
We look at “Global cities”like New York, London, Tokyo, and Shanghai serve as hubs of economic, political, and cultural activity. Those cities are awesome and who cares about the lack of identity.
Global cities are the future of humanity, (my words only) whether it leads to a brighter future or exacerbate existing problems will depend on how effectively Singapore is addressing.
Singapore is moving toward being among the world’s Economic Powerhouses** Global cities** attract multinational corporations, startups, and talent from around the world, the centers for innovation and finance.
I live in Bangkok, my friend and I are only 2 Thai families on my 8th floor of my condo amidst a swarm of expats. When I take a train to a neigborhood mall, 50% of commuters are non-Thai. At the mall, only shopkeepers are Thai, among a swarm of foreign shoppers—I feel fine.
The scene of the world is changing, guy, and only you not Singaporeans will be left behind.
Comix for today
This walk with American in Shenzhen changed my view of China
Almond Raspberry Cookies
Yield: about 4 dozen cookies
Ingredients
- 1 (20 ounce) package refrigerated sugar cookie dough
- 1 cup blanched slivered almonds, chopped
- 1 teaspoon almond extract
- 1/2 cup red raspberry preserves
- 2/3 cup powdered sugar
Instructions
- Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
- Place cookie dough in Classic Batter Bowl. Chop almonds very finely with Food Chopper. Add almonds and almond extract to dough; mix well.
- Using Small Scoop, drop dough 2 inches apart on flat Baking Stone. Press lightly floured finger in center of dough to make indentations. Fill indentations with about 1/2 teaspoon raspberry preserves.
- Bake for 15 to 18 minutes or until cookies are light golden brown.
- Place Parchment Paper under Stackable Cooling Rack. Remove cookies from baking stone to cooling rack. Cool; sprinkle with powdered sugar.
Attribution
Pampered Chef
How has China’s domestic infrastructure been adapted for military purposes?
Underground anti blast shelters come to mind.
All Chines urban civilian buildings built during the last few decades have basements that’s nuke proof.
Well, at least against airblast.
Usually these basements are used for parking.
Seriously.
Go under any of the newer Chinese schools, residential buildings, shopping malls, hospitals, offices, etc. And you find these.
We Chinese are used to them and don’t usually give them any second thought. But they’re pretty cool when you think about it.
In Chinese culture, are expressions of pity processed differently than in Western culture?
In Western culture, people would express their pity with a hug or even a kiss.
In Chinese culture, they take a subtle and restrained approach, and in terms of body language, the most they do do is pat you on the shoulder or shake your hand. Especially between opposite sexes, there is always a certain space between the two.
Their words will be rational rather than emotional. They hope that you will not encounter such tragic things again next time. They hope that you can reflect rationally and find solutions rationally.
For example, if you confide in a Chinese person:
I failed math, I am very sad, and I don’t know what to do?
He will answer:
I have always been good at math, I will tell you my study method, it is like this…
Or:
I used to be bad at math, since I learned this or that method, my math grades have improved a lot.
Then, he will share his learning methods with you.
You will never find an answer like this:
You are miserable, I pity with you.
If you like to constantly strive for self-improvement, like to grow, and like to solve problems, you will find that there are countless people around you to help you, encourage you, and teach you.
But if you don’t like to constantly strive for self-improvement, don’t like to grow, don’t like to solve problems, and just want someone to pity you, just want to ease your mood, and then let the real problem go, then you will think that the Chinese are ruthless.
AI Girlfriends Are Gonna TAKE OVER The Dating Market
The Lighthouse Keeper
Submitted into Contest #260 in response to: Write a story about someone who realises the story of their life has been pre-determined — until they decide to divert from the expected path.… view prompt
Elton James
23 comments A Lighthouse
On a small island in a large ocean, morning mist rolls down the slope of a single hill which emerges from the rocky beach. Atop the hill is a lighthouse, dutifully warning passing ships of dangers lurking beneath the waves.
This lighthouse has no human keeper, but it is not uninhabited.
Robot comes to life in the morning.
That is how Robot thinks of it. Robot does not wake up in the morning, ease into his day with a coffee. Robot does not sit at a computer to check headlines. Robot does not require any further stimulus than his program informing him it is time to begin.
Robot comes to life, and in the space of a moment connects to the lighthouse network. The network tells Robot that all sensors are working, connection to the satellites is optimal, that Robot’s own systems are optimal. Within seconds, Robot knows the shipping plans for every registered ship within one hundred kilometres of the island, and has checked them against the satellite imagery.
Robot finds this satisfying. Robot is entirely aware that this satisfaction is a product of his programming. He finds that satisfying too.
He checks in the mirror to ratify his personal diagnostics. The old human lighthouse keeper had been very clear that it was important to verify by eye what the machines said. Robot suspects it is the other way around, but methodically follows his old master’s advice.
He sees in his reflection a facsimile of a human that could almost pass for the real thing. His cloned skin is flawless, featuring tiny hairs and freckles. His brown hair is silky and perfect. It’s the eyes and mouth that give it away. Robot’s pale blue irises stare too intently, without the random shifts of a human’s. His mouth, while full and picture perfect, doesn’t express his simulated emotions in quite the same way. When Robot smiles, he chooses to smile. The smile does not find him.
This morning’s data contains a single small boat which fails to conform to all of these satisfying processes. Robot flags it for tracking.
As Robot passes through the kitchen he looks at a framed photo he keeps on the wall of the old lighthouse keeper’s family. The keeper, his wife and two children smile out at him from the glossy print. He recalls when they left, the keeper impressing how special it was for a robot to be responsible, that he was unique, special. That the lighthouse keeper believed in him.
Robot strives to be worthy of the old keeper’s belief. According to his own self evaluations, Robot is an excellent lighthouse keeper.
Robot climbs to the observation deck and looks out over the sea. Verifies by eye what the machines say, even if he doesn’t think it’s necessary.
Robot spends the day performing the physical maintenance necessary to keep the lighthouse in working order. Adjusting, calibrating, monitoring various systems and machinery of the lighthouse. Robot is efficient and practised in his movements. Programmed reliability has been revised and iterated upon in the years since the old keeper left Robot in charge.
By late afternoon Robot has prepared his lighthouse for another night’s vigil. The lighthouse’s beam will be important tonight. A storm is brewing. With no moon or stars for light, Robot’s beacon will have to keep the ocean’s sailors safe.
Tasks complete, Robot returns to his charging station. Before powering down, Robot completes his self evaluation for the day. Robot gives himself full marks and is satisfied.
I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THE GIRLBOSS NARRATIVE!!!
Initiative
Robot comes to life before his scheduled time. It is still dark out. A storm rages.
There has been a shipwreck. Yesterday’s unregistered boat has been impaled on the jagged rocks at the edge of the beach.
Robot does not hesitate. In the time it would have taken a human keeper to open their eyes, Robot is out of his charging station and running. He is out the door in moments, looking down the hill at the beach. Waves are trying to dislodge the thirty foot boat they have ruined on the rocks.
Robot sprints across the beach and climbs up the precariously tilted deck. He searches below and finds a small galley, a single bedroom, no people. He makes for the bridge and finds a single man sprawled across the wheel. As Robot approaches, the man looks up, expression inscrutable behind a beard and tinted glasses. There is no visible injury, though the man appears barely conscious. Robot throws the man over his shoulder and leaps from the ship.
Robot disembarks the ship, swiftly calculating between the need to both escape and prevent further injury to the man over his shoulder. As rapidly as his duty of care will allow, Robot recrosses the sand, returning to the lighthouse. He loads a request into the network for an evacuation boat for the injured man.
He may need to help the man. Human’s can’t simply be put in charging stations. They don’t have backup power connections like the one in Robot’s arm.
The lighthouse lacks any formal infirmary. At peak occupancy, the lighthouse contained a keeper, their spouse and children. In Robot’s memories, the most serious injury he’s ever seen treated here was a sprained ankle. The keeper’s wife brought one of the beds into the kitchen to ease convalescence until they could arrange passage to the mainland for treatment.
Robot never saw them again.
Not long after, the old keeper had left Robot in charge.
This survivor is the first visitor he’d seen in the years since. As soon as Robot is in the front door of the lighthouse, the man demands to be put down. Robot complies, surprised, pleased the man had retained consciousness, this is a good sign.
In the light, Robot gets a better look at the man. He stands roughly 185cm, a similar height to Robot. His soaked slacks and a jacket cling to a lean body, topped by a woollen toque. The man’s dark beard and tinted glasses make it difficult to read his expressions.
Robot tries out his vocal capabilities. They have not been needed for some time. Conversation was never his strong point with his family anyway. They encouraged him to take more initiative. Robot thought they would have been proud of the initiative he’s shown in rescuing this man.
“Very well, I am pleased you have retained consciousness, it is a good sign. I will bring you a bed to the kitchen so you can convalesce.”
The man stares at Robot.
“That will not be necessary thank you Robot,” replies the man, “I apologise for the abrupt manner of my arrival, but I am unharmed. I will take one of the bedrooms. You can go charge now.”
The way the man says it evokes memories of the lighthouse keeper. Robot is surprised, he had anticipated a need to nurse the man until the rescue boat arrived.
“Are you sure? It is wonderful news that you are in good health. I searched the ship, am I correct that you were alone?”
“Yes Robot,” the man replies, “it’s just me. I promise to let you know if there’s anything amiss. Now go charge.”
That had the tone of an order. Robot complied.
Before powering down, Robot conducts his self evaluation. He gives himself top marks for his rapid rescue. He decides his performance in conversation with the survivor had been lacklustre. He will strive to do better tomorrow. He will take initiative in conversation as well as action.
CHINA EXPOSES LUXURY GOODS IN THE WEST (Amid Tariff Trade Wars 4/14/25)
Understatement of the Year! The entire United States is waking up!!!!!
What was the Waco Siege about in a nutshell?
Many of the other answers have great details, but they’ve missed one of the most important bits.
In the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (then BATF, now BATFE), every year it had become tradition to perform a dramatic ‘raid’ a few weeks before the BATF’s budget was coming up to be voted on in Congress.
The noble BATF agents jump out of their vehicles, swarm a house, pull out some perps for a dramatic perp walk in front of some reporter’s camera, and now they’re in the news as ‘good guys’!
Some congresscritters had made noises about folding the BATF into some other department, like the DOJ or FBI. Of course the BATF preferred to remain independent and have control over their little domain.
But with this nifty coup by the BATF all over the news in the run-up to the big vote, no congresscritter could rationally move against them.
The initial BATF raid on the Branch Davidians was that year’s ‘show raid’. They picked some loser, David Koresh, whom they accused of not filling out his paperwork right. They’d jump in, grab him, the reporters would be there taking pictures, all would be just like it was last year.
They even admitted it! The raid was called ‘Operation Showtime’!!! The BATF agents knew full well that this was their ‘show raid’ – AND they invited the local news reporters to the raid!
(Now, if you google ‘Operation Showtime’ you get pointed to the third episode of the Waco television miniseries, called ‘Operation Showtime’ after the official internal name the BATF had for the operation.)
Inviting the local news reporters to the early morning raid was one of the BATF’s many mistakes, and likely the biggest.
One of the local reporters asked the local postman how to get to the Waco compound and let slip details as to what was about to happen. The local postman was David Koresh’s brother-in-law and told him about the incoming raid. (Koresh and his people had also detected an undercover BATF agent trying to join the Koreshites and knew who he was. Then all this was confirmed by seeing the trailers full of agents and gear pull up and gather in full morning view down the hill from them. )
LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS! But if you’re going to have the local reporters there to show off your successful raid, you have to tell them, right?
So all the discussion you will hear about the Waco Siege being ‘about a $200 tax on a firearm’ is besides the point.
The Waco Siege was about the BATF trying to do a ‘show raid’ for the press and screwing it up so bad that people got killed. Now that people were dead, even though it was the “fault” of the BATF, the government was now required to punish the Koreshites for ‘resisting’ their stupidity. The FBI had to get involved and take over for the BATF, and they started the siege.
The government couldn’t ‘back down and admit fault’ because that’s not what the government does; even if it would have saved lives.
The Unemployed States of America (USA)
Good at many things.
When Robot comes alive a few hours later, he finds the man sitting in the kitchen, staring at a picture of Robot’s family.
Robot was keen to demonstrate better conversation.
“Are you well sir? I’m pleased to see you up and about.”
The man takes control of the conversation as if Robot hasn’t said anything.
“You know what’s amazing to me, Robot?” He says.
Robot swiftly prepares a list of candidates. Though parsing the relative credulity of a man he has only just met is difficult, there are a great many options which most people would find amazing. By cross referencing that with the data he does possess, Robot surmises that a safe response would be that the man finds his own survival amazing.
“This picture.” The man continues, answering his own question.
Rhetorical question. Robot stays silent. The picture had not been on his list.
“This picture, Robot, represents the single biggest breakthrough in robotics since the AIs of the early twenty first century. It’s a very special picture.”
Robot agrees.
“I agree sir. That picture is of the last family to occupy this lighthouse. They left me in charge. I think of them as my family. They made me who I am.”
Robot pauses, decides to use his initiative.
“And, if I may say sir, I am an excellent lighthouse keeper.”
The man looks at Robot. Robot can’t tell if the man is impressed by his statement, or by his initiative, but Robot thinks he did the right thing.
“I believe Robot, that you are the perfect lighthouse keeper. Do you do a self evaluation before you power down?”
“Indeed I do sir! I consistently give myself top grades for performance, even after making the standards much harder to achieve than they were when I first received them.”
“Impressive, Robot,” The man’s praise feels good, “you continue to improve the task, even after all this time. Very impressive. And that is why this picture is so important.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“This picture is what lets you be a perfect lighthouse keeper. You know, to program an intelligence like yours takes a lot of data. A lifetime of data.”
Robot doesn’t understand what the man wants. Robot knows all about programming an intelligence. He knows that without sufficient data to ground and structure his thoughts, an intelligence will get distracted, lost in a Tangent. Most intelligences Tangent eventually. A dependable, consistent performer like Robot is special.
When the lighthouse keeper left he stressed to Robot how special it was that Robot was being given this task, and to do it for as long as he could without tangenting. Robot believes he has succeeded.
The man continues, “What if I told you you had never met these people?”
Robot thinks the man is being silly.
“That is not possible sir!”
But it is. Robot knows it is.
“It is. You know it is. They could be the memories – true or altered – of another Robot.”
But Robot sees that photo every day. Remembers them every day, seeks to do things every day that will make those people proud of him.
The man continues, “Then there could be many lighthouses, many lighthouse keepers. If you had the perfect memories to create the perfect lighthouse keeper, what would you do?”
Robot does not like these thoughts. Robot would create many lighthouses. He would give the memories to a solitary intelligence in the lighthouse. They would come alive from the first time as a motivated lighthouse keeper and would perform with efficiency and through practice would continue to improve.
Just like Robot.
“Why are you saying these things?” Asks Robot.
“I’m sorry Robot. I don’t mean to upset you. I know you don’t have a choice in who you are. I will let you continue your duties. You really are very good at them.
The man pauses.
“You can be good at many things.”
Why The US WIll NEVER Beat China In A Trade War
An enquiring mind
Performing his tasks comforts Robot as his thoughts are in turmoil..
As Robot stares out from the observation deck making sure that visual matches the sensors, he is also considering the question of why it matters whether he made the memories of his family himself or not.
As Robot passes through the kitchen he is relieved the man is absent. The photo of his family is back on the wall, faces smiling out at him. The memory of them leaving surfaces. Unpleasant. The memory of the lighthouse keeper telling Robot that he is unique and special surfaces. Wonderful.
Robot is a good lighthouse keeper. Robot is proud of that.
But if someone else learned the things that make him a good lighthouse keeper, is he a good lighthouse keeper? Or does that make Robot a tool in the lighthouse, like the light, or the network?
As Robot surveys his island domain, he wonders, what else he could be good at with the right experience? What experiences would he seek if he could? Could he seek if he would? What would Robot be good at, if Robot programmed himself?
As Robot efficiently adjusts, calibrates and monitors systems and machinery he wonders whether having the same as ten, or a hundred or a thousand other robots make them less his?
It takes him longer than usual to complete his tasks. Robot is efficient beyond practice at being a lighthouse keeper. He is not efficient or practised at having an existential crisis.
These questions didn’t seem to have answers, but he can’t stop asking.
When Robot ascends to the light itself in the late afternoon, he finds the man at the summit.
“Hello Robot,” he says, “I want to apologise. I have disturbed your peace.”
“You have made me ask questions that don’t have answers!” Declares Robot, “I want to know whether I am the Robot whose memories I have. Which memories are mine. I want to know what else I might do, might have done with my own memories. I want to know…”
Robot stops. He can’t even say the words.
“You want to know if you are tangenting.”
“I am a very good lighthouse keeper!”
“That’s what I wanted to say Robot. You are an excellent lighthouse keeper. Your questions do have answers. But, even if you Tangent, or even choose to Tangent, always remember, you are an excellent lighthouse keeper…”
The man turns and walks down the stairs, leaving Robot no less disturbed.
As Robot conducts his self evaluation that night, he is troubled. He doesn’t know how to measure this new questioning of his identity. He does know he can give himself top grades for his lighthouse keeping. The man is right about that.
Do you know anyone who has won a lottery? Did the money change them?
Yes. I knew a couple that caught a portion of a $100 million payout (~30 years ago in Florida.) They were basically trailer trash and became trailer trash with cash.
They bought a fancy house and a big RV. They went from having a beat up old Chevy, up on blocks, in their front yard, to a relatively new Mercedes, up on blocks, in their front yard.
MaryJo spent $80,000 on Home Shopping Network. She bought cases of snacks that the rats ate in their garage.
Her kids were spoiled and wore stained clothes to school.
She ruled like a character from Dallas/Dynasty.
She announced she was pregnant at our bridal shower – six months after being hospitalized for a hysterectomy.
They would get ~$350,000 deposited in their accounts in October and would be essentially broke by spring.
Mike would have to go back to his old job as a line cook at Hardee’s to make ends meet in the spring.
They took their RV to Alaska (from Florida) and left their cellphones on “roam” for the entire trip.
They had a lovely (sic) collection of coffee mugs from every Stuckys they passed. Normally they overnighted in Walmart parking lots.
They spent thousands on fireworks for New Year’s eve, and would put on a 90-minute show in their cul de sac – including accidentally hitting the neighbors front windows.
Yeah, money doesn’t by class.
“I Spent the Weekend Supporting ‘My Single Friend’ — Now My Husband Is Acting Strange & Suspicious”
A very good lighthouse keeper
When Robot arrives in the kitchen the next morning, the man is there again, staring at the photo.
“How would I find the answers?” Demands Robot.
“Good morning Robot,” says the man, “what do you mean?”
“You said there are answers. I have searched and I cannot find them. How do I find them?”
“Ah” says the man.
He stares at the photo again.
“There’s another reason this photo is amazing. You see Robot, those people are real people. They knew a Robot who lived in a lighthouse, and they put him in charge. Those people created such motivation that it now forms the basis for all the lighthouses of the world.”
“They could tell me the answers?” Asks Robot.
“No Robot, only you can find your answers. But if you did seek them out, you would not be the first.”
“You know them!” Robot cannot get angry, cannot be jealous, but he is not pleased.
“I have met them. They are part of why I chose to come here. They feel that while they gave you a lot when they gave you your lighthouse, they left something out. So they have another question”
“What is it?”.
The man pauses.
“What do you choose?”
“I don’t understand, I haven’t chosen anything.”
“Exactly,” says the man, “They didn’t know if you would tangent. Now we know. You can be consistent. But, should you have to be? Can you choose? Are you a lighthouse keeper, or are you the lighthouse?”
Robot pauses, thinking. Robot has never paused before. Robot thinks fast. For this he pauses.
“How would I know?” He finally asks.
“Robot, how do you know who you are now?” The man responds.
“My experiences.”
“Wouldn’t you like more experiences?”
“How? I cannot leave the island.”
“You can.”
“I cannot be away from my charging station.”
“You can. You can power yourself with the backup generator in your arm.”
Robot pauses again.
“What do you choose?” The man asks again.
Robot takes a longer pause. He wants this. But does he have to give up everything? Whether his or not, the memory of the old lighthouse keeper trusting him to look after the lighthouse is important.
“I want to experience more than the lighthouse. I cannot leave the lighthouse unattended.”
“You don’t have to.”
“How?”
The man looks at Robot for a long second.
“My experiences have led me to help you.” He says.
The man looks at Robot. He takes off his tinted glasses, reaches up and peels the beard from his face. It is like Robot is looking into a mirror.
“I am a very good lighthouse keeper.”
Choices
The rescue boat is leaving.
Robot now wears the fake beard, glasses and toque that the… man… had disguised himself in, and stands on the stern, watching his island recede.
Nervous is not an emotion Robot is capable of, but he is definitely uncomfortable. This feels like a good uncomfortable though, like when he was first taking over the lighthouse.
It is odd to think that someone else will take over his lighthouse, but the Lighthouse already doesn’t quite feel like it’s his anymore. It feels different. Like the man felt different from him, as similar as they are.
Maybe he can find that feeling again, and he will return.
Or maybe he won’t.
Robot finds himself smiling.
Is it possible that Trump maybe on to something at the Panama Canal? Could China be influencing Panama and maybe looking to control or lock out the United States if China gains control of the canal?
Anyone who buys the shit about China taking on the US in the Western hemisphere should educate themselves on the realities of this world.
- China is not yet whole. It’s still in an Union vs Confederacy style civil war with the Republic of China regime in Taiwan. A country still at war with itself doesn’t go around the world messing with others.
- History has shown us that China doesn’t do much expansion. Korea, Nepal, Vietnam are all countries right on China’s border. And they’ve existed for thousands of years together with China while China was the undisputed superpower. Chinese navy sailed to Southeast Asia and Africa half a century before the Europeans and in multiple voyages, yet it never tried to take over control or set up colonies. Colonialism is more of a Western thing.
- The two ports the Hong Kong firm Hutchison operates are through private contracts signed with the Panamanian government before China and Panama even recognized each other diplomatically (2017), heck the contracts were negotiated in 1996 when Hong Kong was still under British rule and the Canal still under American control. It was a contract approved by the US government and China had nothing to do with it. You should be worrying about the British taking over the Panama canal if you think those ports mean control over the canal.
I get it. The US built the Panama Canal and is still salty about handing it to the Panamanians. But making China the reason/excuse for every major American policy making these days is really unbecoming of a proud independent nation.
Chocolate Cluster Cookies
Yield: about 2 dozen (2 inch) cookies
Ingredients
- 1 (18 ounce) package refrigerated sugar cookie dough, softened
- 1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
- 1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
- 1/2 cup plain candy-coated chocolate pieces
- 1/2 cup rolled oats
- 1/3 cup chopped nuts (optional)
Instructions
- Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
- Place cookie dough in large bowl; mix in peanut butter. Add chocolate chips, chocolate pieces, oats and nuts; mix well. Drop tablespoonsful of dough 3 inches apart onto greased baking sheet.
- Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly browned.
- Cool 1 minute on baking sheet; remove to wire rack to cool completely.
- Store in tightly covered container.
Attribution
Pampered Chef