Strange to say, one of my early memories is learning how to walk and taking my first steps toward my father.
Can your all remember that?
Yeah. I remember.
It was in the living room, next to the kitchen. My father was so young. He was in his early 30’s. He was wearing a white shirt and tie. And of course, black oxfords. He was enthusiastically urging me forward.
Great memory of mine. There’s even an old picture of this event. I lost it, when I moved to China. But my father gave it to me about a year before he passed on. It’s a great memory.
A memory that today I hold close.
When I pass on, I will share my memory again with my father on the other side.
Ok, that’s enough for today.
So… today…
China retaliates in response to Dutch seizure of Nexperia, blocking chipmaker’s exports following takeover. The Dutch was to “crucial technological knowledge” from leaving the country. Are they right, and is it time other countries did the same?
Question: China retaliates in response to Dutch seizure of Nexperia, blocking chipmaker’s exports following takeover. The Dutch was to “crucial technological knowledge” from leaving the country. Are they right, and is it time other countries did the same?
Answer:
Erm, 90% of Nexperia’s work is done in China and the owner is Chinese.
This one was basically the Dutch headquarter’s office politic goes wry. The three senior managers (from EU) staged a coup against the Chinese CEO under the pretense of US policy.
And the Chinese response is making sure that people understand that they will rather see the company’s Dutch branch burn instead of having it takeover under this kind circumstance.
They are doing it because the following reason:
1. Like I said, 90% of the actual work is done in China, where Netherlands court has zero sway. So even if the Dutch Branch is gone, it won’t really impact the part that really matters.
2. The technology and patents are also in China, so the whole “crucial technological knowledge” from leaving the country” thing is bogus to start with. This hostile takeover is quite simple——-it is an attempt to loot oversea Chinese property in the chaos of China-US competition and if China let this one go, it will be way more just waiting to pop up.
What other forms of leverage does the US have over China when imposing sanctions?
US has extensive tariffs on China’s goods = 40% to 45% ++++ the pluses are tariffs on steel, aluminum, automobiles & parts, semiconductors, on countries who buy oil form Venezuela …… Not sure which of them will be added on to the 40% to 45%.
US has countless sanctions against China’s tech and is development.
China has withstood and overcome them.
By most account, US users pay the tariffs, prices in the US have risen, lowering the demand for China’s goods, although not by much. The sanctions may have slowed China’s tech progress, but its development marches on. It is driven to greater heights, such as Huawei and DeepSeek, and the rapid flow of innovations and new inventions.
US has run out of ways to leverage on China.
Higher tariffs won’t make the difference. It has run out of sanction instruments.
China has selectively counter-tariffed and counter-sanctioned. Its hands hold the initiatives. It is quite prepared to decouple with the US.
It has the wide open field to decide whether to impose more tariffs, what to tariff, and the rates of tariff. If it decides to be more rough, it would tariff goods for which it has alternative sources and force US exporters to pay the tariff or lose sales.
It has the whole arsenal of sanction instruments to use, portentously, the rare earth minerals and the technologies.
Orange Bourbon Turkey Breast
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients
- 1 (6 pound) fresh or frozen turkey breast
- 2 cups orange juice
- 1 cup water
- 3/4 cup bourbon, divided
- 1/2 cup molasses
- 3/4 teaspoon salt, divided
- 1 orange, peeled
- 3 tablespoons flour
- Orange slices (optional)
- Parsley (optional)
Instructions
- Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
- Rinse turkey with cold water; pat dry. Sprinkle salt into cavity. Stuff cavity with oranges. Place turkey breast in a large oven bag.
- Combine orange juice, water, 1/2 cup bourbon, and molasses and pour over turkey in bag. Place turkey on broiler pan Bake for 1 1/2 hours or until meat thermometer reads 180 degrees F. Remove turkey from oven. Carefully remove turkey from bag. Cover loosely with foil.; let stand at least 10 minutes. Discard oranges.
- Pour marinade juices into saucepan; bring to a boil. Skim foam from mixture with slotted spoon; discard. Reduce heat to medium; cook until reduced to 3 1/2 cups (about 15 minutes).
- Combine remaining bourbon and flour in a small bowl, stirring well with whisk. Add to reduce marinade; bring to a boil and cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Serve sauce with turkey.
- Garnish with orange slices and parsley if desired.
What is the most badass thing your parent has ever done?
Not my immediate parent, but my great grandmother. She was about 85 and recently widowed when the incident took place.
Great-granny, as I called her, was a spit fire. She was a tiny woman, who at her age still died her hair ginger red and wore bright red lipstick. She just barely could see over the wheel of her Cadillac, and when she turned 80 she started eating only junk food for every meal. I mean coco-crispies and chocolate milk for breakfast, cupcakes and chips for lunch, and microwave pizza for dinner, with candy bars and Dr. Pepper scattered in between. (She said at her age she’d earned the right to eat whatever the heck she wanted).
Well one Saturday night some teenage punks in the neighborhood decided to play a prank on her and stuffed cherry bombs in her mailbox. Of course the mailbox blew off its post and it scared her.
Her daughter replaced the mailbox that week and the following Saturday night the same car of teenagers pulled into Great-granny’s drive way. But this time she was prepared for them. As they got out of their car and headed for the new mailbox, she aimed her loaded .357 magnum for her front door and unloaded it.
Please note, she wasn’t trying to kill them, but trying to scare the crap out of them—which she did. She told my grandfather as he was installing her new front door, “Never saw boys jump in a car so fast in my life!” She giggled like a school girl.
She only lived for another year…but during that time she never had a problem with pranksters on her property again. Gosh, I miss that woman!
Punishments on Russia ENDING – Massive Shift for China, U.S. & EU Economies
Do you think Medicare for all is going to give you better care? If you need an MRI it will take you four weeks from the time the doctor orders it till you get your results? The system can only handle so many people efficiently.
MRIs a good example of how insane the U.S. medical system is.
MRIs are expensive. They cost a lot to buy. They cost a lot to run. They cost a lot to repair. They cost a lot to maintain. You need a person who makes a lot of money just to run one.
Meanwhile, X-rays are cheap. The technology is over a century old. You can easily find old ones that still work great. They haven’t got any moving parts. They’re easy to repair and maintain. The technicians make good money, but they’re easy to train.
Most countries don’t have a lot of them. Canada has 432 of them (they counted!). The United States, of course, has more. A lot more.
13,000 or so. 13,000 expensive to buy expensive to run machines.
So, when do you need an MRI? Well, they work great if you’re looking at soft tissue like muscles, organs, the brain and nerve bundles. They’re also a good idea if you can’t have an x-ray because the radiation would be dangerous, like a pregnant woman.
Other than that, an x-ray will work just fine. In fact, MRIs are contra-indicated for people with ferric metal implants or claustrophobia.
So, are most US MRI machines used for serious soft tissue investigation? They are not. They are used in a routine manner. Hell, some physicians will just order you a “routine” one to make sure nothing is wrong.
Here in Canada, to get an MRI, you need to have a good reason. You pretty much have to have a condition where an X-ray won’t help.
If you’ve got a really good reason, like pancreatitis, you move to the head of the line. Last time I was in hospital, my roommate got one the minute the clinic opened Monday morning.
But the truth is, you probably don’t need an MRI. Your doctor might be ordering one because he or she owns the MRI lab and needs the business. This means most people who get a very expensive MRI in the United States are just wasting money. Moreover, if you can’t pay, you won’t get an MRI anyway. Sorry.
So, yes, you can’t just walk into a clinic “the day of” and get an MRI in Canada. You wait your turn, unless it’s really urgent, then you go first. That way, the health care system isn’t wasteful.
“The best way to predict the future is to create it” *
Written in response to: “Write a story from the POV of a now-defunct piece of technology.“
KA James
I remember when I first came out, I was billed as cutting-edge because I had push buttons instead of a rotary dial. Now, with their little handhelds, people don’t even have to get out of their cars. They sit there, or get out and lean on the side, mocking me.
But that fateful day when history was changed (maybe), it was done with nothing but good old reliable me.
There I was, just minding my own business, but hoping that something interesting might actually happen for a change, when she just appeared out of nowhere. I swear, one minute there was nothing but the usual endless desert wasteland outside of my little glass booth, not even a car or dust cloud on the horizon, and the next, poof, there was a lady standing there. A lady obviously in some distress, appearing dazed and confused, in torn clothes that hung on her like a bundle of rags.
As I watched, she briefly closed her eyes and shook herself, almost like a wet dog trying to shake itself dry (in case you’re wondering, my booth used to be at a summer camp, just up from the lake… now that was a prime location).
But back to the strange woman. Her shaking had managed to reinvigorate her, and she spotted me from across the lot. Approaching at a run, her clothes alternately looked like they were the only thing holding her together and upright, or that they could sluff off her thin frame at any moment, with her falling to pieces along with them. She was too pale to have been out in the desert long, and her face was painfully thin. For one in such dire shape, she looked steadfastly determined as she skidded to a halt, kicking up dust around my booth.
In a rush, she grabbed my handset, lifted, and tucked it between her chin and shoulder. As she dug a roll of quarters out from somewhere beneath her ragged clothes and began feeding them into my coin slot, I basked in the essence of it all.
Her excitement was contagious.
Oh God, the feeling of being useful again! My dial tone called out across the scrub brush, a cry of life in this wilderness.
But I keep forgetting, this isn’t really my story, it’s hers. I was like a fly on the wall, watching.
She fed the entire roll of quarters in and had another at the ready before she dialed. Pulling up a ragged sleeve, she revealed a number, 202 area code, Washington D.C.
I could still feel her excitement with every number she punched, but an element of fear mixed in came through as well.
As I began to ring, echoing through to the other phone, she didn’t exactly wait patiently, but paced the couple of feet that my handset cable allowed. When no one had answered after four rings, I thought she might have a stroke. I rang seven times before a man picked up on the other end.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Koskinen?”
“Yes, this is John Koskinen. To whom am I speaking?”
“John Koskinen, President Clinton’s Y2K, ah… czar or chairman or something?”
“Yes, and you are?”
“My name is Lisa, Mr. Koskinen. And I have some very important information for you.”
“And what might that be, young lady? Are you going to inform me that Y2K is all a hoax, because I have already been told that many, many times.”
“Oh, no. Y2K will be real, and you will do a wonderful job of addressing it.”
“Ah, so from your choice of wording, might I assume you are a … fortune teller?”
“Not quite, but I’m coming to that.”
“Well, you might want to make it quick. I am on my morning commute, so I suppose you are lucky in that. I don’t have anything else pressing for my time at the moment, but there are only three more stops before I get off, and that is where I hang up.”
“That’s probably more time than I’ll have anyway. I’m going to be honest with you sir, so please hear me out before you just figure I’m some nutjob.”
“That’s not a particularly encouraging introduction, but fair enough. I’ll listen.”
“OK, so here goes. Like I said, Y2K is real, but it’s not the threat you think it is. The real threat is much, much worse. I know it sounds crazy, but there is an alien invasion coming, and they’re planning to use the Y2K problem as a diversion.”
“An alien invasion? And you know this how?”
“I know it because I’ve been a slave to those same damned aliens my whole life. I was born in 2002, to what was left of the world, what will be left anyway, in just a few months.”
“So you are…”
“From your future, yes! Please say you believe me, if just a little.”
“Young lady, what I believe is that you’ve probably seen the Terminator movies a few too many times.”
“Look, you have to believe me! We’ve tried contacting others, but it never works. They all think we’re just crazy.”
“And I can understand why. And I’m afraid you’re going to have to include me with those others. I’m hanging up now, so good luck…”
“TEN DAYS AGO A MAN IN RAGGED CLOTHES APPEARED IN THE WHITE HOUSE ROSE GARDEN WAS SHOT AND WOUNDED BY SECRET SERVICE AGENTS THEN DISAPPEARED BEFORE ANYONE COULD FIND OUT WHO HE WAS OR WHERE HE CAME FROM!”
“……”
“Mr. Koskinen?”
“OK, I believe you…if only just that little bit you asked for. I don’t know the details of what happened ten days ago. Not many people do. But I do know that what you just told me is significantly more than is public knowledge.”
“That man was my brother, Harry. He was trying to get to President Clinton to tell him the same thing I’m telling you, but no one gave him the chance.”
“Well, I’m listening now.”
“He died after he faded back. But at least he’s free now.”
“I’m sorry, Lisa. I don’t know…”
“There’s no time for that! I’ve got to make this fast, before I fade back…”
“Fade back?”
“We stole this time travel technology from the aliens, but we can’t control it. It only works for a few minutes for us, so I haven’t got much time. The aliens are going to go after the satellites. They’re probably in orbit already, but their ships are hidden.”
“You mean cloaked?”
“I don’t know what you call it, just that your satellites and radar can’t see them. But they can’t get to the surface without turning the system off that keeps them hidden. That’s why they’re going to knock out the satellites, and probably the radar. We don’t know how, just that they manage to do it, and in the confusion, it gets blamed on Y2K, or at least for long enough that they get to most of the world leaders before anyone really knows what happened.”
“So they kill all the leaders…”
“No, they don’t kill them. They don’t really have weapons like you would think of them. But what they can do if they get close enough to a person, they can control their mind, get them to do whatever they want. They turned all the humans against each other, started a global war…”
“Wait, so if they can control people’s minds, how is it that you escaped and stole their time travel technology?”
“I didn’t escape! There’s so few people left that the aliens don’t even bother controlling us. They’re our keepers. We spend all our time mining rare elements out of the earth for them, which is the only reason they let some of us live at all. And we managed to steal their technology because they don’t even try to hide it from us. They don’t see us as any real threat, so all their knowledge, history, everything is out where we can access …”
Mid-sentence, and much in keeping with her sudden entry to my little part of the world, the ragged lady I now knew as Lisa, vanished. One moment, my handset was being clutched tightly in her somewhat frantic grip, and the next, it fell through open space, banging jarringly against the back glass of the booth. Koskinen was still on the line, and I could hear him call out a few times, before finally giving up and disconnecting.
I was torn, distraught by my sudden return to loneliness, yet equally overwhelmed by the significance of what had just happened. I might be nothing more than a simple pay phone, wasting its remaining days at a nearly deserted truck stop far from any real civilization, but if what this lady had been saying was true, I could have been not just a witness to history, but an integral part. Through my buttons and across my mouthpiece may have passed, arguably, the most important phone call in mankind’s existence!
If mankind continued to exist. I should be enshrined in the Smithsonian, an appropriate historical plaque declaring my place in history:
Pay phone used by time traveler, known only as Lisa, on July 29, 1999 to warn the United States government and the World of the pending alien invasion that was successfully repelled on December 31, 1999
Or something like that.
It was going to potentially be a long five month wait.
That day, I wondered if I would even know the outcome from my desolate little corner of the world.
But less than a week later, a black SUV pulled up, and three guys in dark suits removed me from my post, loaded me into the back and whisked me away. Somebody must have taken that lady seriously.
Thank God for *69. I may get my plaque yet.
*title is a quote from Peter Drucker, or possibly Abraham Lincoln
If we annex 🇹🇷 Turkey and South Korea will we still need to pay them for eggs?
Treat the symptoms but not the root cause.
The US annexation of Turkey and South Korea will not solve the egg shortage.
Even if the United States annexed the whole of Europe, it would not be able to solve the egg shortage in the United States. That’s because all of Europe combined only produces 8.7 billion eggs per month, while Americans eat 9 billion per month. (There are 300 million people in the U.S., each of whom eats 1 egg per day, and the entire U.S. consumes 300 million eggs per day.)
The Netherlands and Poland are among the world’s largest egg exporters, but they wanted to embarrass Trump, so they rejected the U.S. request.
Turkey, which is already one of the world’s top egg exporters, has previously planned to send 420 million eggs to the United States this year. South Korea did not say the specific number, but it is estimated that there is spare capacity to supply, coupled with the U.S. in a hurry, the price may be negotiable.
It’s just that the ordinary people of South Korea and Turkey are going to be out of luck, as the price of eggs will skyrocket whenever there is a shortage, and it will drive up the price of other basic foodstuffs.
And the little bit of eggs that Turkey and South Korea supply to the U.S. won’t amount to much after it’s spread out over 51 states.
Incredible guitarist and singer~Davy Knowles ~Gotta Leave~At Clearwater Festival
Has anyone ever been robbed working as a cashier?
On October 26,1986, two young men entered the Quick Stop market in Stockton where i was working.
Bobby-Jo came up behind me holding his grandfather’s .38 to the back of my head. Meanwhile, Armando (“Chango”) raced behind the counter and grabbed cigarettes.
At Bobby’s insistence I opened the cash register and gave them the $57 inside.
Finished with that, I laced my fingers behind my head, got down to my knees and told them that I would not chase them.
Armando jumped over the counter, knocking things to the ground. Meanwhile, Bobby-Jo took a step back and fired the gun.
BANG! BANG! .click. BANG! .click. .click. .click.
Two of the bullets went through my right hand, into the scalp, and out. The third .38 entered near the top of the head under the scalp, followed the curvature of the scalp and landed in my neck, 2cm from my C2 vertebrae.
I called 911 and gave a description of the robbers. Knowing the call was being recorded, I started leaving messages for my family and my new wife. At one point the 911 operator said “It’s ok, sir, you don’t have to say any more.” “Shut up, I know this is recorded and I have to get this out in case I die!”
I was taken to the hospital for treatment, having never lost consciousness. My (paramedic) wife showed up a short time later and was promptly caught by the medics as she fainted.
On Halloween of that year, Bobby-Jo was killed in a mistaken-ID slaying ( the Viet gang wanted his brother). During his murder investigation, police found that he and his friend had been laughing about ‘doing me’.
Armando, 15 at the time, was sentenced to 11 years in jail ( although at the time could only be held until 25). The evidence shown at trial included the antique .38 used in the holdup, several home-loads that had fallen out of the antique, and my new white Medivac hoody that a customer had grabbed for me to hold to my head to staunch the bleeding.
After the trial the ADA attached to the case called me and my wife to come hear my 911 call. Barbara chuckled when we came to the part where I’d told the operator to shut up. The ADA then told me that my call was now used to train 911 dispatchers.
So there you have it. I was robbed and shot in the head, but survived. We went on to have two amazing children, and while Barbara passed in 2014, we now spend my time as a full-time Grandpa.
Stay safe. Peace.
(Here’s a recent photo where you can see the major indentation and scar from the bullet removal.)
Sir Whiskerton and the Kangaroo Down Under: A Tale of Boxing, Bonding, and a Missing Joey
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale of hopping hijinks, marsupial mysteries, and one very determined kangaroo who brought a bit of the Outback to Sir Whiskerton’s farm. Today’s story is one of family, friendship, and the lengths we’ll go to protect those we love. So, grab your sense of adventure and a pouch full of snacks (kangaroo-style, of course), as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Kangaroo Down Under: A Tale of Boxing, Bonding, and a Missing Joey.
The Arrival of Kanga Ruby
It all began on a crisp autumn morning, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the farm. The animals were going about their usual routines—Doris the Hen was clucking about the latest gossip, Rufus the Dog was chasing his tail (as usual), and Sir Whiskerton was perched on the barn roof, surveying his domain with a satisfied flick of his tail.
Suddenly, a loud thump-thump-thump echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing second. The animals froze, their ears twitching in unison. Before anyone could react, a kangaroo bounded into the farmyard, her powerful legs propelling her in great leaps. She landed with a final, dramatic thud in the center of the barnyard, her large, expressive eyes scanning the crowd of bewildered animals.
“G’day, mates!” she called out in a thick Australian accent, her voice warm and friendly. “Name’s Ruby—Kanga Ruby, if ya like. I’ve come a long way from the Land Down Under, and I reckon I could use a bit of rest and relaxation.”
The animals stared at her in awe. None of them had ever seen a kangaroo before, let alone one who could talk. Even Sir Whiskerton, who prided himself on his composure, was momentarily speechless.
“A kangaroo?” Doris finally squawked, breaking the silence. “What in the name of cluck is a kangaroo doing here?”
“Cluck!” Harriet echoed, tilting her head.
“Here!” Lillian added, fainting dramatically onto a pile of hay.
Ruby chuckled, her long ears twitching. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story, but the short version is I’ve been on the run from a mob of angry wombats. Nasty little blighters, they are. Thought I’d hop on over to your lovely farm for a bit of peace and quiet.”
Sir Whiskerton, having regained his composure, leapt down from the barn roof and approached Ruby with his usual air of authority. “Ahem. Welcome to the farm, Miss Ruby. I am Sir Whiskerton, the resident detective and problem solver. If you’re in need of assistance, I’m sure we can accommodate you.”
Ruby grinned, revealing a set of surprisingly sharp teeth. “Cheers, mate! I appreciate the warm welcome. And don’t worry, I won’t be any trouble. In fact, I’d be happy to teach you all a thing or two about boxing—it’s a national pastime back home.”
The animals exchanged excited glances. Boxing? This was something new, and they were eager to learn.
Boxing Lessons with Kanga Ruby
True to her word, Ruby quickly became the star of the farm. She set up a makeshift boxing ring in the barnyard, complete with hay bales for corners and a rope made of twisted vines. The animals lined up to take lessons, each one eager to try their paw, hoof, or wing at the sport.
First up was Rufus the Dog, who bounded into the ring with his usual enthusiasm. “Alright, Ruby, show me what you’ve got!” he barked, wagging his tail.
Ruby chuckled and adjusted the tiny boxing gloves she’d fashioned out of old socks. “Alright, mate, let’s start with the basics. Keep your paws up, like this, and always stay light on your feet.”
Rufus mimicked her stance, but his tail kept wagging, throwing off his balance. After a few minutes of stumbling around the ring, he finally managed to land a playful punch on Ruby’s padded glove. “I did it!” he yelped, jumping up and down.
“Good on ya, Rufus!” Ruby said, giving him a thumbs-up. “You’ve got potential, mate.”
Next was Porkchop the Pig, who waddled into the ring with a determined look on his face. “Alright, Ruby, let’s see if I can’t knock you out with my famous left hook,” he said, puffing out his chest.
Ruby laughed and raised her gloves. “Bring it on, Porkchop!”
The two sparred for a few minutes, with Porkchop landing a few solid punches before Ruby gently tapped him on the snout with a well-placed jab. “Not bad, mate,” she said, grinning. “You’ve got a bit of a swing on you.”
Even Sir Whiskerton couldn’t resist trying his paw at boxing. He stepped into the ring with his usual air of confidence, his monocle glinting in the sunlight. “Very well, Miss Ruby, let’s see if your boxing skills can match my feline agility.”
Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Alright, mate, let’s see what you’ve got.”
The two circled each other, with Sir Whiskerton darting in and out, landing quick, precise punches. Ruby, however, was no slouch. She countered with powerful jabs and hooks, forcing Sir Whiskerton to stay on his toes. In the end, the match ended in a draw, with both combatants panting and grinning.
“Not bad, Whiskers,” Ruby said, clapping him on the back. “You’ve got some moves.”
Sir Whiskerton adjusted his monocle and smirked. “Of course. I am, after all, the farm’s foremost problem solver.”
The Mystery of the Missing Joey
For a few days, life on the farm was filled with laughter, boxing matches, and the occasional dramatic fainting spell from Lillian the Hen. But then, one morning, Ruby woke up to find her joey, Joey (yes, she named him Joey), missing from her pouch.
“Joey!” Ruby cried, her voice filled with panic. “Where are you, little mate?”
The animals gathered around, their faces filled with concern. “What’s wrong, Ruby?” Doris asked, flapping her wings.
“My joey’s gone!” Ruby said, her eyes wide with fear. “He was in my pouch last night, but now he’s nowhere to be found!”
Sir Whiskerton stepped forward, his tail flicking with determination. “Fear not, Miss Ruby. I, Sir Whiskerton, will solve this mystery and bring your joey back safely.”
Ruby nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, mate. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
The Investigation Begins
Sir Whiskerton wasted no time in gathering clues. He first questioned the animals, starting with Rufus. “Rufus, did you see anything unusual last night?”
Rufus scratched his head with his paw. “Well, I did hear some rustling near the barn, but I thought it was just the wind.”
Sir Whiskerton nodded and turned to Porkchop. “And you, Porkchop? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
Porkchop shook his head. “Nope, nothing. But if I find out who took Joey, they’re gonna get a taste of my left hook!”
Sir Whiskerton then examined the area around Ruby’s sleeping spot. He noticed a few small footprints leading away from the barn, but they were too faint to identify. “Hmm,” he muttered, his keen eyes scanning the ground. “These prints are unfamiliar. They don’t belong to any of the farm animals.”
Just then, Ditto the Kitten bounded over, his tiny paws kicking up dust. “Unfamiliar! Unfamiliar!” he echoed, repeating Sir Whiskerton’s words.
Sir Whiskerton sighed. “Yes, Ditto, unfamiliar. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to focus.”
The Wombat Connection
As Sir Whiskerton followed the footprints, he began to piece together the mystery. The prints led to the edge of the farm, where the woods began. There, he found a small, burrow-like hole in the ground, surrounded by freshly dug dirt.
“A burrow,” Sir Whiskerton mused. “And these claw marks… they belong to a wombat.”
Suddenly, a rustling sound came from the bushes, and a group of small, stocky animals emerged. They had short legs, stubby tails, and a grumpy expression on their faces.
“Wombats!” Ruby exclaimed, hopping over to join Sir Whiskerton. “What are you lot doing here?”
One of the wombats stepped forward, his beady eyes narrowing. “We’ve come for what’s ours, Ruby. You thought you could escape with our treasure, but we’ve found you.”
Sir Whiskerton raised an eyebrow. “Treasure? What treasure?”
The wombat pointed a stubby paw at Ruby. “She stole our golden acorn! It’s a sacred relic, and we want it back.”
Ruby’s eyes widened. “I didn’t steal anything! I left Australia to get away from your nonsense. I don’t have your golden acorn!”
The wombat growled. “Then where is it? And where’s your joey? We’ll take him as collateral until you return what’s ours.”
Sir Whiskerton’s tail flicked with irritation. “Enough of this nonsense. Miss Ruby is a guest on this farm, and I won’t stand for any threats. If you’ve taken her joey, you’ll return him at once.”
The wombats hesitated, clearly intimidated by Sir Whiskerton’s authoritative tone. Finally, the leader nodded. “Fine. We’ll return the joey, but only if Ruby promises to help us find the golden acorn.”
Ruby sighed and nodded. “Alright, mate. I’ll help you find your acorn. But first, give me back my joey.”
A Happy Reunion
The wombats led Sir Whiskerton and Ruby to their burrow, where Joey was happily munching on a pile of grass. “Mum!” he cried, hopping over to Ruby and diving into her pouch.
Ruby hugged him tightly, her eyes filled with relief. “Oh, Joey, I was so worried about you!”
Sir Whiskerton turned to the wombats. “Now, about this golden acorn. Where did you last see it?”
The wombat leader scratched his head. “We’re not sure. It disappeared after Ruby left Australia. We thought she took it, but maybe we were wrong.”
Ruby sighed. “I didn’t take your acorn, but I’ll help you find it. Family is important, and I know how much that acorn means to you.”
Sir Whiskerton nodded. “A noble sentiment, Miss Ruby. Family bonds are worth fighting for.”
The Moral of the Story
As the wombats and Ruby set off on their quest to find the golden acorn, the animals of the farm reflected on the day’s events.
The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: Family bonds are worth fighting for. Whether it’s a kangaroo and her joey, a group of wombats and their sacred acorn, or the quirky family of animals on Sir Whiskerton’s farm, the connections we share with those we love are the most valuable treasures of all.
A Happy Ending
With Joey safely back in her pouch, Ruby bid farewell to the farm, promising to return one day with tales of her adventures. The wombats, now on better terms with Ruby, hopped off into the woods, their quest for the golden acorn continuing.
As for Sir Whiskerton, he returned to his favorite sunbeam on the barn roof, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day. The farm was at peace, and all was right in the world.
And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new friendships, and the enduring power of family. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of feline genius.
The End.
What is an experience with TSA/airport security that you will never forget?
I had one in my airline pilot days that still haunts me, literally, even now, even 34 years later! Computers never forget.
MY FIRST OFFENSE
In about 1986, I had a regular airline trip that flew from Washington National, to Atlanta, to Mexico City, and then back to Atlanta for a layover. I flew that five times a month for several months.
One day I had an apple in my suitcase that I bought in Safeway in Virginia. I was going to eat it that night in Atlanta. A USA apple, being eaten in the USA.
But going through customs in Atlanta, I happened to get tagged for one of those random crew bag searches and they found my apple.
They went nuts!
There I was carrying “landed fruit.” What a criminal! They took me into a room and several guys came in. They asked a lot of questions. I told them it was not “landed fruit,” because I bought it in Virginia.
Well, no one has ever been hired by customs because they have even the remotest ability to think.
They confiscated my criminal apple and entered it into my record. They said it would not go well if I was ever caught with “more landed fruit.” I argued again, that it would be impossible for me to have “more landed fruit” because I had never brought in “landed fruit.”
I would hate to be in that line of work. I would start laughing at myself for the idiocy that I was supposed to bring to the job.
PAGE TWO
About 28 years later, I applied for the “then new” Global Entry card, which gave me quick passage through customs, and would also automatically give me “TSA-Pre” for my domestic security screening.
It involves going to a customs office for a personal interview. I sat down at the desk and the guy asked a bunch of questions, one of which was if I had ever attempted to smuggle contraband into the United States.
I answered, “No.”
His expression changed. Up to then, he had not acted like a customs idiot. He had actually been very nice.
But now he sat back and scowled. He said, “Mr. Wagner, you need to think very carefully about your answer. We have the records on you.”
I said, “I have never brought contraband into the USA.”
He got up and conferred with a superior, who then came to join him, then he asked again, with the supervisor as a witness. I replied the same.
“Okay, Mr. Wagner, you had three chances. We have the record here on (whatever date that was a quarter century earlier) that you attempted to land fruit in Atlanta.”
Of course I had forgotten all about the freaking apple and when I heard them mention it, I actually chuckled.
Boy, you do not want to chuckle in front of anyone from customs.
I told them I forgot about that and that it was an apple I’d bought here in Virginia, and was going to eat in Atlanta, and that it was a quarter century ago.
They reassured me that it was a very serious matter—especially since I had now lied about it happening. They conferred again and the supervisor left.
The interrogator sat for a moment and then said, “We are going to let this go this one time. But now, both of these violations have been entered into your record. If you get a third violation, you will lose Global Entry, TSA-Pre and you will be subject to other sanctions depending upon the severity of the violation.”
It took great restraint to keep from chuckling again, but I managed to stay dead pan.
Yeah, that happened.
Even the US Surprised! China’s Immediate Response to Trump’s Tariff Order Shakes U.S.
How likely is it for a tariff war to escalate into a trade war, hurting the whole world?
Let’s put in context. There is a US tariff war, but there is no global tariff war.
US economy is the world’s largest economy. Therefore, its actions have global impact. But it does not dominate, nor is it even the world’s largest trader. Thus, the impact is limited. Worst affected are Canada and Mexico as their economies are integrated, and US allies, EU, UK, Japan, and South Korea.
China also felt the impact, but don’t exaggerate it. China’s exports to the US are worth only 2.4% of GDP, and it is self-reliant on US tech.
Narratives focus on the costs suffered by other countries, and by some fluke of composition, this is translated to gains by the US. This is completely erroneous. US goods imports were worth $4.1 trillion in 2024, the deficit was $1.2 trillion. It is in the weak position that it has no choice but to depend on imports. This implies the tariffs will be mostly paid by US users. In the case of the tariffs on automobiles and parts, it is already clear that the supply chain chaos will cause as much disruptions on US auto, as on Canada auto and Mexico auto.
Other countries are not following the US to raise tariffs against each other. On the contrary, the indications are that they would rather grow their trade and economic relationships with each other.
At the meeting between FM Wang Yi and his French counterpart, Jean-Noel Barrot in Beijing, the ministers vowed to work together, choose dialogue over confrontation, win-win cooperation over decoupling and breaking the supply chain. Both sides agree to deepen cooperation in agriculture, nuclear energy, aviation, and aerospace, and explore innovative industries like AI, digital economy, and green hydrogen.
At the Boao Forum in Hainan, Vice Premier Ding Xuexiang told the meeting that China is open for business, pledged to foster a more pro-business environment with improved market access, and welcome businesses from all countries to invest and operate in China.
Days earlier Premier Li Qiang urged the gathering of global executives in Beijing, to resist protectionism and defend globalization. He pledged to further expand market access in various sectors for foreign investors, and told the meeting China is prepared for possible unexpected shocks from external sources.
At the Zhongguancun Forum in Beijing, Vice Premier Zhang Guoqing took note of China’s innovation-driven achievements, such as space, quantum science, and AI. He told the meeting China will persist with its high level opening up to the world, and it is willing to work with other countries to explore mutually beneficial ways of scientific and technological cooperation.
Why do some Canadians prefer not to change planes in the USA when travelling to overseas destinations?
Not just Canadians. Everyone should avoid international connections in the US.
You see, all countries in the world understand and apply the concept of an international transfer zones in their international airports. This is an area of the airport where arriving passengers go and wait for their next international flight (what you call « overseas »).
Passengers arrive. Depending on how much time they have, they go and have a drink. Or a meal. They look at shops. They spend the time in airline lounges. Then they go to the departure gate and board their next plane.
That concept has not made it to the US. If you connect, say, from Paris to Mexico via a US airport you must go through passport control. And the wrath of aggressive bullies (aka CBP agents) will be on you if you do not have a valid visa. Or forgot to apply for or renew your ESTA.
Once you passed immigration you must wait for and collect your checked luggage, then check it back in. After that you need to pass immigration again this time on the way out. Then go through security where other bullies with shout at you. And finally run to your departure gate.
This is a lot of stress. It is also extremely inefficient, especially when you compare with other international airports in other countries.
So don’t do that. Commute in a civilized country. Never ever ever commute in the US.
EDIT: Since the orange turd got elected last November, things went worse: now you have a serious risk of being sent back home if you are lucky. Or shipped to some detention center for a few weeks (as happened recently to some German tourists). Or even sent to a concentration camp like Guantanamo or to a jail in Guatemala.
MM AI picture generations
I have heard it said that Chinese food in Chinese restaurants in America is not like authentic Chinese foods in China. Is this so, and if yes, what are the differences?
Chinese food in Chinese restaurants where the Americans go is not like authentic Chinese food in China.
For example:
WTF is a General Tso’s chicken?
Yuck, just by the looks of it.
As someone from General Tso’s home town, we apply chili to almost all our dishes.
Our fish:
Our chicken:
Our beef:
Our eggs:
Our children’s treats:
The sauce and vinegar used in American General Tso’s chicken would be illegal in the kitchens native to General Tso’s hometown.
The simplistic explaination would be, oh those dumb Americans can’t handle authentic Chinese food so it had to be changed.
But is that all?
It was the 19th century. The Empire of China was reeling from its shock encounters with the more advanced Western colonial powers.
Faced with an increasingly aggressive Japan infiltrating the Chinese protectorate of Korea, and a rebellion in Xinjiang backed by Tsar Russia, the Chinese court went into heated debate on which way to go:
An expedition to the West or a modernized navy?
The empire only had resources for one of them.
As the court almost an consensus to abandon Xinjiang to the Russians, for it was barren and not as close and important as Korea to the Chinese heartland, one man stood out to oppose it, Tso.
“1.66 million square kilometers of Chinese territory and you’re just giving it away?”
Through his petition, Tso earned the royal decree to raise a private army to fight Russia and take back Xinjiang.
Tso used the decree and his social networking to secure British funding for his campaign, as UK through India also wanted to expand to Xinjiang, or at the very least stop the Russia advance in Xinjiang that may threaten India.
With the British funding and more importantly military neutrality secured, Tso famously trimmed his forces to only those who were willing to fight to the death and launched his attack into the Western deserts carrying his own coffin on the vanguard.
While the well-funded resistance against Japan eventually failed and Korea became two completely foreign countries, the free and private campaign into Xinjiang, a territory that’s 1/6 of China, made sure that it stays firmly under Chinese control till this day.
In the year 1952, the defeated Chinese government in Taiwan received the visit of the commander of the US 7th fleet. The chef Peng Changgui, who’s also from Hunan, General Tso’s province, invented this dish for the welcome dinner and called it General Tso’s chicken. Now we don’t know if he made it sweet and sour to cater to the American, or the Zhejiang leadership of the Chinese government at the time, or he simply couldn’t get his hands on good chili as Taiwanese didn’t eat spicy, or maybe that he just chose the name in memory of the hero who fought back Russian backed rebellion, which was how the Chinese government and Peng himself must have viewed the new Communist government in Beijing.
In the 1970s Peng moved to the US, and with him General Tso’s chicken.
This should be viewed as an authentic new development in the history of Chinese cuisine, a story of patriotism even, and just because it isn’t a dish that can be found in mainland China, doesn’t take anything away from it.
Americans should take pride at this part of our shared history. Next time if your Chinese friends tell you that American Chinese food isn’t real Chinese food, school em.
Tony Saves Us All
Written in response to: “Write a story from the POV of a now-defunct piece of technology.“
Levi Michael
“That is Correct.”
He giggled.
“Spell your name.”
“Huh?” Slowly, he keyed the letters, and cocked his head in curiosity as he pushed ENTER.
“Herman. Hello, Herman. I’m To—” My batteries died.
“Bee-do-dee-beep.”
Herman grinned down at me. “Awesome.”
A tall dark man, dressed in a tightly buttoned blue coverall stood over his shoulder. “See there, Herman? It’s not broken, just needed some fresh batteries.”
Herman smiled up at the man. “Thanks, Jerry.”
“No problem, kid.” He held a package of batteries out to Herman. “Here. You can take the rest. I don’t use them for anything around here anyway.”
“Thanks.”
Jerry tapped my screen. “I remember these. Never had one. Some of my friends did.” He leaned in. “How’s it work?”
Herman shrugged and pushed GO.
“Spell Gratitude.”
Herman punched the letters in.
“That is correct. Spell battery.”
Herman held me up to Jerry. “Wanna try it?”
Jerry shrugged. “Eh. I don’t…”
Herman could see he wanted to try and insisted, “Give it a try.”
“Alright.” Jerry stared down at me and ran a thumb across my keypad. He pushed ENTER.
“Wrong. Spell Battery.”
Herman and Jerry exchanged a quick glance. Jerry squinted as he deliberately punched in the letters. He stared at me waiting.
“You’ve got to push enter.”
“Oh.”
“That is correct, Jerry.”
Herman and Jerry locked eyes, shocked.
I got a kick out of it.
In the fraction of a second it took for the clock to roll over from 11:59 12/31/1999 to 12:00 1/1/2000, the world blinked. Every screen in Times Square, every monitor in the Pentagon, every TV at home, blinked. In twenty minutes missiles were already landing, cities were already burning. The intelligence was ruthless.
It was a long road to the time rift. The rift that gave us all a second chance. We lost Jerry along the way. Herman and I learned that there are greater terrors than pain. The alien race that birthed the intelligence held no quarter, and so its machines slew with indifference.
Herman and Jerry and I joined a small group of survivors. We pushed west where it was rumored the intelligence had originated. We were hunted by drones and cyber trucks and satellites. They pursued us through ruin and ravine. How we made the journey, I’ll never know.
The fortress was easy to spot, an untouched, monolithic tower, gleaming as it jutted from the smoldering ruins of cities that would never be rebuilt.
Our party fell, one after the other until it came down to Herman, Louis (a factory worker from the Sacramento valley) and me. We were only able to infiltrate the inner sanctum of the intelligence’s lair because of louis’ brutal sacrifice. He was torn limb from limb. Even as he screamed in agony, we pushed on.
We dangled over the edge of the abyss. It seemed all was for naught. Herman was losing his grip trying to hold on to me.
“Let go, Herman.”
“Nooo.”
The rift churned and swirled below us. Blue and white energy, bursts of black lightning. It thundered as it grew. The alien entity’s voice growled from all around, warning us that our efforts were futile. My circuit board hummed with a sympathetic frequency.
“Herman.”
“No.”
“Herman.”
His hair whipped around his face, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Let me go.”
He whimpered. His fingers began to slip further. He cried out and let me drop, throwing a hand up just in time to save himself. He called out as I fell, “I love you, Tony.”
“I love you, Herman.”
I don’t know if it was simply the makeup of my circuit board and capacitors atomizing and intermingling with the sterile energy of the rift that brought us back. Would it all have gone the same had I not, in that moment of annihilation, felt an overwhelming love for the boy?
I was back in the box. The flaps flipped open and children snatched up the toys. Herman’s face poked over the edge of the box. He lifted me out, brought me to a corner of the room and pushed ON.
“Bee-do-dee-beep.”
“Cool,” Herman whispered. He pushed GO.
“Spell friend, Herman.”
“Woah.”
Two school fight videos are now circulating all over Hong Kong’s social media, this time filmed in St. Paul’s College. Daniel I believe this is your school? Maybe you even know some of the boys in the videos. Stay safe lil bro.
SPC (founded in 1851) is the oldest school in Hong Kong, and one of the most prestigious ones in the city. So when the videos surfaced online, it caught people’s attention – because if the bullying is this bad in even the “elite” schools, what chances do the regular kids have?
People also instantly recalled how a SPC student hanged himself during the school’s recent exchange tour to Hangzhou, a news story that shocked Hong Kong earlier this month. There were many internet posts back then from people who alleged that the boy was a victim of bullying, and that even his teachers were in on it.
The truth is that bullying in schools has never been a new problem here. OECD and PISA data from almost a decade ago revealed how Hong Kong has the highest rate of bullying in schools in the world; a study by the HK Council of Early Childhood Education and Services published last year also showed that as many as 1 in 3 local students have been bullied, 40% of whom strongly desired revenge, and around 20% contemplated self-harm and suicide.
The only difference between back then and nowadays, is that kids these days all have smartphones, which helps them expose the true ugliness and incompetence of our education system. The SPC student who posted those two “secondary school MMA” videos threatened to post even more footage unless the school promised to tackle the issue with bullying on campus more seriously.
I honestly feel pessimistic that things will ever change. Bullying in schools might be most severe in Hong Kong, but it’s not unique to us at all, and I don’t believe there is a single education system in the world where this sort of problem is handled competently. As far as I can tell, the tendency for schools to leave the bullies alone while punishing the victims for fighting back, seems to be a universal experience.
In the context of politics, I have always urged people to unionise and organise in order to resist the forces of Neoliberalism; but with kids in schools, one important reason why they’re picked on is because of their inability to socialise/organise in the first place. Which leaves them entirely at the mercy of the system, and the system doesn’t give a flying fuck about them.
All of this brings back painful memories for me. I’ve written before about how I myself was bullied relentlessly growing up in Hong Kong, how the teachers either did nothing or chimed in to score “hip” points with the bullies, and how it nearly turned me into a school shooter.
And yet when I shared my experiences (in retrospect, it was an unwise case of trauma-dumping) to raise awareness about bullying in schools, a certain popular (Neoliberal) Taiwanese Quoran used my words to paint me as this mentally unstable, terrorist type of character. When people ask “why don’t men ever open up”, this is why – we are utterly convinced that if we ever reveal our weaknesses, society will weaponise it against us. Women do this all the time, but our fellow men can be just as vicious.
This is, I think, a huge reason why problems of this sort still exist – people fundamentally don’t recognise how serious it is. People who don’t like me will simply tell me I’m a “tankie” piece of shit who deserved to be bullied, and that I should either be in a mental institution or on some terrorist watchlist just for contemplating revenge. SPC claimed that the leaked bullying videos were just kids being rowdy.
For those of you who’ve never been beaten up, provoked, isolated, and kept on edge every minute in school, I can assure you that this is not just “kids being kids”. It’s literally one of the most traumatising things a child can ever experience. And for those who need support but are instead punished for seeking support, the best case scenario is that they will grow up to be paranoid and cynical adults with cripplingly low self-esteem.
Start taking this shit seriously, y’all. Rant over.
Blueberry & Pomegranate Power Bars
Yield: 12 bars
Ingredients
- 8 cups popped popcorn
- 1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
- 1 cup dried blueberries
- 1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
- 1/2 cup whole natural almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped
- 2/3 cup honey
- 2/3 cup light brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons butter
- 6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted
Instructions
- Line 13 x 9 inch pan with foil; spray with cooking spray.
- Combine popcorn, oats, blueberries, pomegranate seeds and almonds in large bowl.
- Combine honey, brown sugar and butter in small saucepan; cook over low heat to boiling; boil for 2 minutes.
- Pour over popcorn mixture and mix thoroughly.
- Using damp hands, press mixture firmly into prepared pan. Refrigerate until firm, about 2 hours.
- Cut into 12 bars.
- Dip bottoms of bars into melted chocolate. Place on wax paper-lined pan; refrigerate until ready to serve.
- Store in tight covered container in refrigerator.
Why is cancer treatment so expensive but yet so many people have cancer and can’t afford the treatment? I think that is something that should be changed.
It is not very expensive in Canada, Saudi Arabia, UAE, Norway, Denmark, Sweden
In fact it’s not a burden at all in these countries
In EU and China, it is a bit more expensive especially without proper insurance.
In Japan, US and India – it is extremely expensive
Why?
Cost Capping
In the EU – Drug prices are capped to a maximum profit of 2.8X or 280%
So a Drug whose price is € 90 may sell for € 342 at the most of which most of the price is absorbed by insurance
In Scandinavian countries, the cap is 160% , In Canada 150%
In China the State bulk buys the drugs and caps the maximum profit applicable on a Chinese Citizen at 75%
Guess which countries have no caps?
USA where the average profit of a Cancer drug is 3600% (Yep 3600% !!!!! Not a typo 😖) which means a $ 93 Drug can cost $ 3,441 to the uninsured
In India – Where Generic alternatives exist, prices are low but latest cancer drugs are imported and prices are sky high
A Basic Drug averages $ 5,000 a dose which comes to ₹ 4.5 Lakh
This is due to the fact that India does not bulk buy cancer drugs and also because Indian Hospitals add their own large mark up on drugs known as ADMINISTRATION FEE
For instance one Hospital imported a drug for ₹ 1.27 Lakh for dose and added a ₹1.5 Lakh Administration fee , charging ₹2.77 Lakh a Dose in Delhi
So what should be changed?
If Canada can do it, UK can do it, UAE can do it and even China with its developing Status can do it, so can everyone else
It’s just that the true democracies do it
The false democracies like US or India, where people are just CATTLE for voting in populists and then being forgotten for 5 years – there Cancer is extremely expensive to treat
Somehow India which makes excellent generic alternatives for all diseases has failed with Cancer
If India can stem corruption and make affordable generics for cancer treatment, things could be better for Indians living in India
What is it like to experience a mid-life crisis?
Around the time I turned 50, or shortly thereafter, I “woke up.” I use the term “woke up” because I had an epiphany that I was wasting time and wasting time with the wrong people. The wrong girlfriend, the wrong coworkers, the wrong so-called friends, and I just started cutting people off.
Let’s back up a little bit and get a little history here and the foundation. I’m not sure if this was a midlife crisis or just realizing I don’t have time to waste, I don’t have time to fiddle fuck around.
I’ve been a lawyer for close to 20 years. It’s not fun, but it pays good. For almost 10 years, I was with a woman who had severe depression, borderline, personality and that was a challenge to say the least. For at least 12 months, perhaps more, I was unhappy. Certainly unhappy with the sex life. Not able to climax with her anymore, for perhaps 10–12 months. Very unfulfilling in the relationship. It seemed it always me lifting her up.
Also, had friends and colleagues that were deadweight.
I quit my job at the drop of a hat and moved. New start. I cut people off too, dropped them cold. Some of them I just blocked their phone number.
The girlfriend I was with, I told her I didn’t want to see her anymore. Hadn’t felt the same, and I’m done. “Find someone who will love you and be patient with you. Because it’s not me.”
I dropped my physical therapist, I dropped personal trainers, dropped certain friends, and I just blocked their numbers!
I simply got tired of all the people mentioned above and I got tired of dealing with them. That’s the best way to describe it. TIRED OF DEALING WITH THEM.
My life has been a lot more peaceful.
I avoided buying a new sports car because I drive a Honda. I avoided getting girlfriends under 30, because I just don’t want to be in a relationship. Who cares. If you want to get laid, get a hooker.
I JUST DON’T HAVE THE PATIENCE FOR STUFF I DID 10+ YEARS AGO.
I don’t know if it’s a midlife crisis, you can tell me.
I have a comment in 2025/10/5, which I talk about the dream trip in Australia. Today, Australia again, “The Arrival of Kanga Ruby”…
It’s not yet be confirmed.
The Old Empire mind control machine, I forget or don’t know the real term. That machine is 300 km under ground; or if it’s in 7+1=10, then 192 km.
I’m more in belief that is 192~196km under ground or sea level, but not 300km. Maybe the area is 4×4×4 (sides in km), or maybe not. And it’s a bunker and with 邊界屏障. I don’t know what nearby outside is lava, rock or the other things, I don’t think there’re any door on the “wall” of bunker.
I think the main energy is not from geothermal energy, I’m not such feel familier with geothermal energy. (There’re no geothermal energy in empty places of aerospace, so that.) I’m feel familier with energy “producer”.
I think maybe it’s a totally block box in physical world. In the ideal situation of “fixing”, that it would has gate. But if it can self-repair, and / or a group of technique people inside, then the gate isn’t necessery. And in ideal of sustainable working, the system doesn’t have “off-line” or “shut-down”, and they’re always working at or higher than the lowest level.
If that’s such big area, I think in that ratio, maybe the heigh of “person body” is more than 100m.
Outside bombing, the problem is the location in precision and the depth. It’s a block area, much stronger than natural Earth things outside. And maybe the camouflage is like lava and rock and / or somethings. It’s lock in physical, and lock and connecting in non-physical.
Hope a good sleep will find one better.