.
It’s okay to have a meltdown; sometimes, you need to leak a little before you can reboot.
I wrote this in 2024. How close was I?
Was I close?
Anyways, you know, I could really do with something much like these things...
I really don't know what they are called, but sure beats a hamburger and fries. Don't you think?
This is what I wrote in 2019...
Again, I think it's high time to satisfy my desires...
And then do something like this...
Today...
Have you ever inherited a large sum of money? What did you do with it?
When my father died in 2011, I inherited his Rolls-Royce and his stash of pennies. Let me explain.
Dad (and I) grew up in a small, working-class town in Pennsylvania. He came of age during the Great Depression; then fought in World War II. So by the time he was 22 and met my mother, he had led a no-frills life.
Dad knew he wanted to be a “success” and, to him, success had certain markers. One of his was to live in the big white Victorian house across the street from his second-floor apartment. Another was to one day own a Rolls-Royce.
Dad went on to become a successful salesman and, in 1956, we moved into that big white Victorian house. He vowed he would never move again, and he never did.
He drove Plymouths and Fords for many years; and eventually moved up to Lincolns. My mother died in 1995 and Dad realized, as Longfellow wrote, “Art is long, and time is fleeting.” If he ever wanted to own a Rolls-Royce, he had better do it soon.
In 1997, he found that car at an estate sale: a used 1989 Rolls-Royce Silver Spur, black with a red leather interior. He had his Rolls-Royce. It was beautiful.
As a Depression-era kid, Dad was basically frugal (the Rolls was, he admitted, an extravagance). At the end of every day, he would toss any pennies in his pocket into a jar. “Mind your pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.”
He started this practice after he came home from World War II and it became a lifelong habit. But consider: he started saving pennies in December 1945 and added about 3¢ a day to his penny stash … every day for more than 65 years.
Thus, by the time of his death, Dad had saved $724.39 … in pennies. There were jars of pennies. Bags of pennies. Coffee cans of pennies. Crocks of pennies. 72,439 pennies in all. That’s nearly 400 pounds of pennies.
So upon his demise, I became the proud owner of a black Rolls-Royce and twenty 20-pound bags of pennies.
I called the bank for advice on what to do with all these pennies. The manager said they would accept my bags, count the pennies over the next few days, and deposit that amount in the estate account – provided I would accept their count as accurate. I was happy to agree to that.
So the day arrived when I pulled up in front of the bank in my Rolls-Royce, got out, opened the trunk, and started piling bags of money onto a hand truck. The manager held the door for me while his assistant took pictures. It was pretty much a ridiculous, over-the-top scene. The only thing missing was a top hat; if I’d had one, I would have worn it.
Sometime later, the manager sent me one of the photos. In appreciation for his help, I turned it into a poster for his office. The caption read:
“Before I Started Banking Here I Drove A 2002 Ford Taurus!”
I told him he could use it in marketing if he wanted to. But the Head Office Marketing Department shot the idea down as misleading. Yet the photo was undoctored and the caption was absolutely true. But they were right: if would have been misleading. Still, it was fun to think about.
What is something most people misunderstand about being wealthy?
Last week I had a conversation with a close friend. He was extremely worried about his father’s health.
His father owns several hundreds of millions of dollars in commercial real estate properties. I could estimate he makes around 2M USD per month just from his rental properties… an amount impossible to spend or invest!
Believe it or not, a HUGE problem for wealthy people is NOT knowing what to do with their money!
House? Done. Plane? Done. Vacations? Done. You name it, done! They can’t spend their money!
Do you think that riches lead to freedom from work? Wrong!
Huge amounts of cash actually produce more work! Now, you will ask me, “Why in the world do they keep working?”
Great question!
The answer is because they’re businessmen! It’s a lifestyle, that’s what they do, they have fun doing it and they do it extremely well!
Imagine telling a professional race car driver to stop driving cars? Impossible, right? They'd rather die before quitting what they love doing! Same happens to successful businessmen.
Now, is this a problem specific to my friend’s “workaholic” father? NO!
I grew up in a school where most of my friends’ fathers were multimillionaires (and a couple of billionaires.)
Believe me, it’s very common to see these wealthy men trapped in their own success, trapped in a cycle of endless work.
More money leads to more opportunities, which leads to more investment, more properties, more employees, more businesses, more cash, more taxes, more attorneys… you name it!
Most can’t stop working and worrying about their possessions and many can’t even enjoy their own wealth!
Jason Smith | Xi Jingping Just Dropped The Hammer On The US Economy | Part 1
Based on this interview with journalist and author Jason Smith, here is a summary of the key points:
Main Topic: The discussion centers on the escalating trade and technology conflict between the U.S. and China, analyzing recent Chinese export controls and the underlying dynamics.
Key Arguments:
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China's Strategic Retaliation: Smith argues that China's recent export controls on rare earth minerals, graphite, lithium, and the associated processing technologies are not an unprovoked act, but a "tit for tat" response to U.S. sanctions and tariffs. He characterizes China as "the one that knocks," demonstrating its power and capability to create "technological choke points."
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U.S. Vulnerability and Missteps: The conversation highlights U.S. dependence on China, noting that over 78% of U.S. military systems rely on materials sourced from China. Smith criticizes past U.S. efforts to contain China (e.g., the semiconductor ban under Gina Raimondo) as a "fool's errand," pointing out that China has already caught up or is leapfrogging in key technologies.
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China's Unassailable Lead: Smith explains that China's dominance isn't just in owning rare earth minerals, but in the complex processing technology and the entire supply chain. He emphasizes that this capability, developed over decades and supported by specialized university programs, would take the U.S. an estimated 29 years to replicate.
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The Path Forward for the U.S.: The guest contends that the U.S.'s best course of action is not escalation but de-escalation and cooperation. He suggests the U.S. should:
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View China as a peer rather than an adversary.
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Pursue joint ventures with Chinese companies to access their technology and innovation, citing the potential for affordable consumer goods like a $12,000 EV.
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Consider a rumored Chinese offer of a trillion dollars in U.S. investments in exchange for peace.
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Overall Tone and Conclusion: The interview presents the U.S. strategy as arrogant and self-damaging, while portraying China's actions as a calculated and powerful response. Smith concludes that for the sake of continued peace and economic viability, the U.S. government must choose cooperation and economic integration with China over containment and conflict.
Which episode of the Twilight Zone still sends a chill up your spine today?
One of the most powerful episodes “A Kind of a Stopwatch”
is about a guy who somehow acquires a stopwatch from a random stranger he meets at a bar. He quickly learns that if he stops this stopwatch, EVERYTHING stops.
Time, people, life.
Everything.
Hitting the button again, the stopwatch continues, and everyone comes back to life; picking up exactly where they stopped. Unaware and unaffected by the stopwatch.
The man has a little fun - pulling pranks on his boss at the office, his friends, family. Just having so much fun bewildered at this watch’s power!
Just a regular-looking stopwatch that you always see in old movies.
Then, greed takes over. He notices an armored truck delivering money to the bank.
“Oh, Giddy up”, he thinks to himself. (he doesnt say that in the episode. Its a saying I heard that I used to say “Oh awesome, watch this” It would annoy the hell outta my friends LOL!!)
So, you guessed it, he stops the watch, puts it in his pocket, and proceeds to steal the cart full of money out of the bank; right from the vault!
He stops to pile on more bags of money, then continues on. He accidentally steers the cart into a desk, causing the stopwatch to fall out of his pocket and onto the ceramic floor. It shatters into a hundred pieces.
In its stopped state.
Oh, no!! The watch is broken. The man desperately tries to put it together to get it up and running, but its fruitless. The watch is destroyed.
In its stopped state. The people. The world. Life.
All stopped.
As you couldve guessed, the man created his own hell due to his greed and selfish desires. He is now alone. Oh, he will live onto whatever his lifespan is. But no one to talk to. Nothing works (no TV, no electricity, no running water, no life)
Everything is in its “stopped” state. Literally frozen in time, if you will.
He starts screaming; going nuts. A total “what have I done?” moment.
Fade out, and in comes ole Rod Serling. With his handsome and dark looks, suave swagger, and his (usually) deadpan delivery of bad news from a lesson learned:
“Mr. Patrick Thomas McNulty, who had a gift of time. He used it and he misused it, now he's just been handed the bill. Tonight's tale of motion and McNulty - in the Twilight Zone.”
So crazy, and if I may say, a metaphor of some of the greedy decisions we all have made from time to time, but mostly without the same permanent regrets.
Hopefully.
We Got Kicked off our own Property for Living in an RV
In this video We basically get kicked off our own property for breaking the town codes rules and living in our RV on our property.
The Pigernator’s Existential Oil Leak
Ah, dear reader, prepare for a mystery that Sir Whiskerton would have preferred to outsource to a duck—one involving high-grade angst and low-grade motor oil. Our tale begins not with a crime, but with a catastrophe of character, proving that even a cybernetic pig built for pig-napping 1is not immune to the existential dread of life on a whimsical farm2.
The Pigernator (Chinese name: 猪阿诺, Zhū Ānuò) 3, a pig of intimidating cybernetic stature and even more intimidating leather outerwear4, was having a moment. A big moment. The farm’s ceaseless, baffling drama—the ducks who thought they were opera singers, the farmer who only spoke to Bartholomew the Piñata5, the sheer banality of a sunset—had finally pushed his core processing unit past its tolerance for sentimentality.
The result was less of a dramatic breakdown and more of a messy plumbing failure.
"My general is melting!" Bigcat (Chinese name: 胖虎大佬, Pàng Hŭ Dà Lão) 6 wailed from atop a hay bale, his usual regal composure dissolving into pure, fluffy panic. "Look at it! He's liquifying his own tactical efficiency!"
Indeed, The Pigernator, standing rigid near the milk pail, was suffering a catastrophic system overload. A persistent, rusty-brown, highly greasy fluid was oozing from his elbow joints, knee hinges, and, most alarmingly, from the tiny exhaust ports designed to release steam during a high-speed chase. The fluid looked, to the untrained eye, precisely like a mechanical form of diarrhea, leaving a slick, corrosive trail on the flagstones.
"I am not malfunctioning," The Pigernator insisted, his voice a distorted, metallic rumble, even as a fresh jet of rusty effluent shot out and coated his beloved leather jacket. "I am performing a necessary systems purge."
Sir Whiskerton, having carefully placed his favorite ceramic saucer on a patch of dry dirt, approached the scene with the meticulous caution of a feline who knows the true cost of a vet bill. "A purge, you say?" he murmured, adjusting his monocle. "My dear Pigernator, your 'purge' has turned the central barnyard into a slip-and-slide of industrial waste. I believe that is the very definition of a malfunction."
The Pigernator’s 'Check Engine' light, located subtly on his belly panel, began to flicker rapidly—an agitated, red pulse.
The slippery chaos was already spreading. Daffy the Duck, attempting a majestic entrance, mistook the oil slick for a professional ice rink and executed a perfect, unintended triple-axel that ended with him face-first in a stack of hay. Meanwhile, the slippery substance was chewing through a wooden fence post with alarming speed.
"It is existential oil!" The Pigernator declared, dramatically slumping against a feed sack. "It’s the emotional baggage of the entire farm, now expressed through me! I am simply too deep for my structural integrity!"
Sir Whiskerton sighed. Emotional intelligence was tiresome when it involved hazardous waste. "Less philosophy, more mechanics," he instructed. "We need to fix that internal leak before your entire chassis rusts away into a very philosophical pig-shaped pile of iron oxide."
The solution, he knew, lay not in advanced robotics, but in a peculiar, almost mystical piece of hardware. He consulted his notes—a napkin he had scribbled on after overhearing a conversation between the Farmer and Bartholomew the Piñata7. The Pigernator's schematics indicated only one tool could seal the micro-fracture in his emotional regulator: a highly specific, tiny wrench, last seen in a location known only to the truly disorganized.
"The Farmer's office," Sir Whiskerton announced to Bigcat, who was still muttering about his melting general. "The wrench is in his infamous shoebox of papers."
The Farmer’s office was less an office and more a monument to administrative chaos. It was here that Taxman Ted, during his last visit, had discovered that the Farmer’s 'filing system' was, in fact, a single shoebox overflowing with crumpled bills, forgotten birthday cards, and tax documents from the 1980s8.
Sir Whiskerton, followed reluctantly by Bigcat, navigated the mountain of bizarre artifacts. They ignored a bottle labeled "high-grade motor oil" that had been disguised with a handwritten tag reading "Medicinal Turnips"—clearly Pigernator’s failed attempt at a covert refueling.
"The Farmer was talking to his tax return just this morning," Bigcat sniffed, pointing a paw at a rubber band-bound stack of yellowed receipts. "He said, 'Now, don't you worry, little fellow, we’ll sort you out next decade.' This entire box is a crime against logic."
"Exactly," Sir Whiskerton replied, using his paw to sift through the paper rubble. "The most valuable things are always hidden in plain sight, usually buried under receipts for novelty oversized scissors."
Finally, beneath a half-eaten sandwich and a diagram for a chicken-powered juice press, Sir Whiskerton spotted it: a glint of chrome. There, shining like a tiny beacon of hope, was the minuscule wrench. It was no bigger than a caterpillar, yet held the fate of a cybernetic pig in its threads.
They rushed back to the barn, where The Pigernator was now weeping metallic tears (and shedding more hazardous sludge).
The tiny wrench was applied to the Pigernator's central regulator valve. With a soft, almost anti-climactic click, the torrent of emotional oil stopped. The silence, save for the rhythmic bongos of Jazzpurr the beatnik cat 9 practicing nearby, was deafening. The Pigernator was fixed. But he was still distraught. His 'Check Engine' light continued to flash red, a symbol of his inner trauma.
It was time for the therapeutic touch of Lester the Tattooed Pig (Chinese name: 纹身艺术大师·猪皮画仙·莱斯特)10.
Lester, known for his ability to find beauty in vulnerability, approached the cybernetic pig with a gentle confidence. "A check engine light is just an unfinished self-portrait, my friend," Lester said, pulling out a specialized, fine-tipped ink apparatus. "Let us embrace the vulnerability."
With a few precise, loving strokes, Lester didn't cover the light; he incorporated it. He tattooed a new, simpler, happier pig face over the surrounding chrome panel. The 'Check Engine' light now served as the face's blinking, cheerful red nose, giving the Pigernator a constant, absurdly optimistic expression.
The Pigernator looked down at his new face. He touched the gleaming, happy nose. "I... I feel... rebooted," he rumbled.
Bigcat, rushing over, hugged his general (cautiously avoiding the greasy jacket). "I knew it! You are glorious, Pigernator! Now, who wants to pursue Oinkster?"
The Pigernator smiled with his new nose. "Perhaps... after a short oil change and a long, existential nap."
The End.
Moral
It’s okay to have a meltdown; sometimes, you need to leak a little before you can reboot. True strength isn't preventing the leak, but knowing when to call for a tiny wrench and a friend with a tattoo gun.
Best Lines
- "My general is melting!" - Bigcat, watching his tactical leader shed corrosive oil.
- "I am not malfunctioning. I am performing a necessary systems purge." - The Pigernator, while actively dripping.
- "Amateur? My monocle costs more than your life choices." - Sir Whiskerton (A standard Sir Whiskerton boast).
- "A check engine light is just an unfinished self-portrait, my friend." - Lester the Tattooed Pig.
- "This entire box is a crime against logic." - Bigcat, on the Farmer's shoebox of papers. 11
Post-Credit Scene
The Pigernator attempts to clean his leather jacket using the "medicinal turnips" (high-grade motor oil). He succeeds only in making the jacket shinier, slicker, and slightly flammable. He declares it "Maximum Coolness Mode" and scares away a flock of pigeons, who are convinced he is a disco ball of doom.
Key Jokes
- The Melting General: Bigcat panics and yells, "My general is melting!" upon seeing the oil leak.
- Systems Purge: The Pigernator’s repeated, stubborn insistence, "I am not malfunctioning. I am performing a necessary systems purge."
- Cosmetic Repair: Lester the Tattooed Pig giving the Pigernator a happier face by making the flashing 'Check Engine' light look like a cheerful red nose.
- Medicinal Turnips: The high-grade motor oil is labeled "medicinal turnips" in a ridiculous disguise.
Starring
- Sir Whiskerton as The Feline Plumber: The detective who proves that a philosophical crisis can always be solved with a tiny wrench.
- The Pigernator as The Existential Oozer (猪阿诺): A cybernetic pig who discovered that he was too sensitive for his own hardware.
- Bigcat as The Panicked Landlord (胖虎大佬): The cat who believes the only true meltdown is one that damages property values.
- Lester the Tattooed Pig as The Core-System Therapist: The artistic soul who fixes internal leaks with external decoration.
P.S.
Never forget that even the most complex emotional problems often have simple, tiny mechanical solutions. But the best fix? That’s always a fresh, absurd perspective.
Why are people in South Korea protesting China?
Because South Korea’s economy—the very foundation of its rise to developed status—is being rapidly overtaken by China in key sectors such as display panels, shipbuilding, and more.
South Korea is a nation extremely poor in natural resources and small in land area.
I once read a book written by a Ming Dynasty general who was ordered to lead Chinese troops to help the Koreans resist the Japanese invasion of the Korean Peninsula.
In his book, he wrote that he knew Korea was poor—but he hadn’t expected that poor. Even pickled vegetables and rice were in short supply. My soldiers, though famously tough and resilient, bitterly complained about the hardship. I had no choice but to shamelessly urge the rear lines to send supplies over thousands of miles of treacherous routes.
He also noted that Korea’s textile industry was very backward—mainly because there was too little land to grow cotton or mulberry trees. As a result, Koreans wore thin clothing that, in China, was reserved for funeral mourning (which symbolized feeling cold—an expression of grief for deceased parents).
…
Overall, for the past two thousand years, China and the Korean Peninsula have maintained a generally stable relationship. Korea adopted parts of China’s culture and institutions, while China traded with Korea. There’s even a 50-episode Korean TV series, 상도 (商道，Sangdo), about the life of a great merchant—I liked it very much.
China has, of course, wronged Korea at times—for instance, corrupt officials once exploited the emperor’s name to make unreasonable demands. This is recorded in both countries’ histories.
But relatively speaking, there’s no deep hatred—no “blood feud.” In that sense, it’s somewhat like China–U.S. relations: plenty of quarrels, but no blood debt.
As for Korea’s resentment toward China, I think one major reason is the Korean War.
The division of North and South Korea—and of East and West Germany—were both aftershocks of the U.S.–Soviet struggle for supremacy. The two superpowers even wanted to divide China in the same way. Mao Zedong insightfully pointed this out: “On the question of preventing China’s reunification, the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were in tacit agreement—two bad guys!”
He realized that China had only a narrow window of time to achieve unification. The U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were then busy contesting Europe, giving China its chance.
Within just three years, the CPC—starting with 1.27 million poorly equipped troops—defeated 4.3 million Nationalist forces armed with American weapons, tanks, artillery, air and naval power. Altogether, 8 million Nationalist troops were wiped out.
By the time the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. finished dividing Europe, China had already reunified.
Korea, however, missed that moment. When its own unification war began, both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. had the capacity to intervene.
In essence, that war was Stalin’s trap for China—but China endured.
After the Cold War, Germany reunified. The Korean Peninsula, however, was different: the Soviet Union collapsed, and China rose again.
China doesn’t care much whether the Korean Peninsula unifies, but it does care whether the unified Korea would be pro-China or pro-U.S. Hence, China is unlikely to allow South Korea to absorb the North before America declines.
Naturally, that’s hard for Korean nationalists to accept.
But that’s only human nature.
In fact, no country truly wants another to unify—division benefits all rivals. That’s a cruel reality, and there’s no need to disguise it.
Does China really want North and South Vietnam to have unified? Not necessarily—it’s just that the Vietnamese did it exceptionally well.
That’s history.
Reality is even harsher.
Since South Korea succumbed to U.S. pressure and deployed the THAAD missile system, China has lost interest in it and began devouring its industries—TV panels, shipbuilding, and more.
South Korea, poor in resources, became a developed country through high-value manufacturing—much like Japan.
But China’s rise, powered by its scale—population, resources, and infrastructure—can easily crush both Japan and Korea.
In truth, Japan and Korea share the same structural problem: their industrial rise was permitted by the U.S.
During the Cold War, America’s frontline allies—Japan, Korea, and Germany—enjoyed the dividends of U.S. support.
Of course, the Japanese, Koreans, and Germans are also extraordinarily capable peoples.
But now the situation has changed: China is rising, Russia refuses to submit, and the U.S. is in decline—unable to support both its Asian allies (against China) and European ones (against Russia) at the same time.
South Korea sees China as a black hole—a gravitational pull sucking away its industrial orders at breathtaking speed. Naturally, it’s unhappy.
Still, in the long run, China–Korea relations won’t deteriorate too much. China won’t just sit and watch Koreans starve—it’ll eventually release some orders back.
Optimistically speaking, once China decisively defeats the U.S., the Korean Peninsula will naturally reunify—and, just like in history, will once again become a good friend of China.
Ancient Humans Bred with Completely Unknown Species
A new study presented to the Royal Society meeting on ancient DNA in London last week has revealed a dramatic finding – the genome of one of our ancient ancestors, the Denisovans, contains a segment of DNA that seems to have come from another species that is currently unknown to science. The discovery suggests that there was rampant interbreeding between ancient human species in Europe and Asia more than 30,000 years ago. But, far more significant was the finding that they also mated with a mystery species from Asia – one that is neither human nor Neanderthal.
Scientists launched into a flurry of discussion and debate upon hearing the study results and immediately began speculating about what this unknown species could be. Some have suggested that a group may have branched off to Asia from the Homo heidelbernensis, who resided in Africa about half a million years ago. They are believed to be the ancestors of Europe's Neanderthals.
However others, such as Chris Stringer, a paleoanthropologist at the London Natural History Museum, admitted that they “don’t have the faintest idea” what the mystery species could be.
Traces of the unknown new genome were detected in two teeth and a finger bone of a Denisovan, which was discovered in a Siberian cave. There is not much data available about the appearance of Denisovans due to lack of their fossils' availability, but the geneticists and researchers succeeded in arranging their entire genome very precisely.
"What it begins to suggest is that we're looking at a 'Lord of the Rings'-type world - that there were many hominid populations," Mark Thomas, an evolutionary geneticist at University College London.
The question is now: who were these mystery people that the Denisovans were breeding with?
When have you felt most grateful for knowing Vietnamese?
I served as a field interrogator with the First Cav in Vietnam in 1970–71. Prior to deploying, I had applied myself in DLI Vietnamese Language School and was the top student. At Division Base camp, I found that basically none of the other interrogators could speak Vietnamese.
One day we had a mission to the field to interrogate a Montagnard village. They were out in the boonies and saw what the NVA were up to on a daily basis.
The protocol was to bring two interpreters, one for English-Vietnamese and another Vietnamese-Montagnard (local dialect, in this case Dau Tieng). But just before takeoff some choppers were diverted to an ongoing firefight. So both my interpreters were dropped. No such luck for me. I was on my own.
When we gathered up the villagers, I noticed a young man looking at me. I gestured for him to come over. Do you know any Vietnamese, I asked. That was when I found out that many Montagnard villages have adventurous people who go down the hills into the Vietnamese areas to trade, and learn the language. He agreed to help me as interpreter and we soon gathered a great deal of intel before it was time to chopper off before the local NVA QRF (Quick Reaction Force) had a chance to react.
Unassimg the AO (getting out of Dodge)
And that was when I learned that knowing Vietnamese was extremely useful. Because that is how we did it from then on.
Lebanese Cabbage Rolls
Yield: 6 to 8 servings
Ingredients
- 1 large (2 pound) head cabbage
- 1 pound ground beef
- 1 cup rice
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Juice of 2 lemons
- 1/2 teaspoon allspice
- 3 cloves garlic
- 2 cups canned tomatoes or 1 can tomato paste
Instructions
- Filling: Wash rice and drain. Add meat and 1 cup tomatoes or 1/2 can tomato paste. Add salt, pepper and spices.
- Separate cabbage leaves and drop separately in salted boiling water and cook a few minutes until limp and easy to roll. Cook all leaves, then let drain well.
- Trim leaves of heavy stems. Reserve stems and put in bottom of saucepan. On each leaf place 1 heaping tablespoon of filling and roll firmly. Place cabbage rolls neatly in rolls making several layers. Place garlic buds among leaves as you roll. Add 1 cup tomatoes and enough water to cover rolls 1/2 inch higher than the top. Place a pottery plate over cabbage so the rolls will remain firm and intact. Cover pan and cook 45 minutes to 1 hour over medium heat.
- During last 15 minutes of cooking, add the juice of the two lemons.
Attribution
St. Anthony of Padua Annual Lebanese "Mahrahan" Festival, Cincinnati, Ohio - recipe by Rose AbiRadi
Staring at Circles
Written in response to: "Write a story that includes the line “You can see me?”"
Squirrelly Writer
The washing machine was a giant one like the kind you normally only get in launderettes. The perfect hiding place. I tore some of Matt’s dad’s T-shirts off the drying rack to pile in front of me. One advertised a beer brand. I read the name and tagline over and over. To this day, I’ve never touched the stuff. But reading the words until they lost all meaning helped calm me down enough to figure out how to get out later on. Yep, the door to the machine locked me in. I read the words, then looked out of the round window pretending I was a very clever astronaut on a very important mission. Eventually I found the mechanism that allowed my release.
Sure, I’d heard the gun going off, but figured it was whatever the mother had been watching on the TV in the kitchen. She’d turned it up loud to drown us kids out. Disappointed no-one had come to look for me and realising how eerily quiet it had become, I opened the utility room door and looked out on a bloodbath.
Turned out the next door neighbour’s teenage son had lied to all the specialists about his mental health recovery.
I got over it a lot quicker than my parents did. They moved even more frequently after that, perhaps plagued by guilt that they might be sending me to a school whose pupils might be targeted by another looney tunes. They didn’t ascribe to the whole thing about it being harder for predators to see you if you stayed still, I guess.
I’m 35 now. And an actual astronaut. I thought I was going to die being stuck in that washing machine but it was the thing that saved me. The gunman found all the other poorly hidden partygoers but turned the gun on himself before checking my room. Or maybe he’d been down to his last bullet.
Whatever; I’m looking through another porthole right now. I like being cocooned by the spacesuit; tight like a hug, snug like a coffin. I like looking at the earth from afar, feeling like the lone survivor while the world burns. The silence. Only hearing my breathing. And I like figuring out how things work rather than trying to figure out people.
“Livingston? Are you there?” Angela with the sultry voice from base asks me. An edge of panic there, like this wasn’t the first time she’d asked me that.
I turn my mic back on. “I’m neither here nor there,” I reply.
“Ha oh my god, Livingston, enough with the cryptic clues. Genuinely thought you were trying to hide from me for a moment.”
I turn to where the camera’s fixed, give her a wink and a wave. Then I go back to staring at Earth, realising that down there everybody’s moving, all of the time.
World War III Preparation Scene | Homestead (2024) | Movie Clip 4K
After a nuclear attack devastates Los Angeles, Jeff realizes the world has changed forever. As Tara heads out to take the kids to school, he sees the breaking news—and races to stop her. Urgency mounting, he insists they prepare for the worst and make their way to Ian Ross’s homestead.
Why are hippos so fat?
The premise of this question is factually inaccurate.
Hippos are far from fat. They are full of muscles and dense bone mass and have very little subcutaneous fat in their body.
This actually helps them with negative buoyancy and the ability to sink to the bed of the river or lake where they can move in water.
Contrary to popular belief, hippos are poor swimmers and have little to zero swimming ability unlike elephants which are excellent swimmers. It’s ironic for an animal that is mostly aquatic in nature but hippo locomotion happens in water just like the pictures depict. They sink in the bed of the river and basically walk or run on the bed before surfacing where they want to.
If hippos were fat instead of muscular with dense bone mass , the fat would be a hindrance to the hippo locomotion in water and the fat would not let the hippo sink as fat has lower specific gravity than water. On the other hand, the muscular build of the hippo helps it with its negative buoyancy. A hippo can’t strap itself with a weight belt like a scuba diver to sink. It’s muscular build helps it sink naturally.
So all these three which round up the top 3 largest terrestrial animals, are far from fat but full of muscle.
All three have comprehensively less fat percentage in their body mass than humans.
What role do patents play in Huawei's dominance in 5G technology, and how can US companies catch up?
Huawei today owns a big portion of 'Standard Essential Patents' (SEPs) necessary to operate a 5G Network and run 5G Services
—
Definition of a Standard Essential Patent
The SEP is not a product but rather a blueprint specifying the exact technical process to achieve the best result in any specific area of 5G communications
For instance in India, Huawei is not operative either as an equipment supplier or a retailer of smartphone devices, however Reliance Jio India, one of the largest services provider, holds maximum licenses and royalties with Huawei and ZTE both being Chinese companies , with Huawei receiving royalties for more SEPs than the rest of the six companies combined
Most of these SEPs are used not by Reliance Jio but by the suppliers of base stations, equipment and switching software but the ultimate end user fee is recovered from the end users (Indians who use Reliance Jio and its 5G services)
So most Indians pay money to Huawei even without Huawei having a presence in India.
Huawei earns tens of millions of dollars from its SEPs globally in more than 170 countries
Please note these are not patents in the sense of owning rights for a specific design.
Think of them as a recipe that guarantees the best tasting lasagna published on a web page for which you are willing to pay an extra fee
A Set of Instructions that if followed ensure optimum connectivity and performance for 5G networks, innovated by Huawei
—
US Companies are not inclined to catch up
This is one area where the dominance was mainly European and migrated to Chinese and Korean at the turn of the 2020s when 5G replaced 4G Services.
—
Please note that US Companies hold total dominance in the areas of Chips, Cloud, Software and Applications where their royalties and patents are estimated to be 35 times what Huawei earns from its SEPs
So it's not that Huawei is dominating an area where the US Companies are competing at their fullest strength.
US Companies are less likely to work so hard for profits from 5G SEPs or Equipment when they get the big bucks from the Core Hardware and Cloud Infrastructure/Applications
—
In Laymans terms
Huawei designs the best freeways in the world, with the best toll pricing and transit pricing tools and traffic management
People pay Huawei for implementing their designs
US Companies build most of the Cars and Trucks using this Freeway or hold most of the patents to the Engines and Turbines that is used by these Cars and Trucks
It is an acceptable partnership
—
The problem came when Huawei decided to start making cars and engines on its own
If it succeeded it would mean Huawei would own the Freeways, the Cars, Trucks and patents to all the technology driving the Cars and Trucks
This was an unacceptable monopoly which is why the Americans turned against Huawei
If there is a monopoly, it has to be American owned or American Controlled 😊
Ex wife regrets Asking for Open Marriage
Have you ever been to a restaurant that made you say “you have got to be kidding me!” when they brought out the food?
When I was living in Ambergris Caye, a friend of mine took me to a high-end beach resort that was apparently known for its food.
Although Ambergris Caye was a beautiful place, I’d have to be honest and say I couldn’t find many good places to eat, so I was excited to try this place out.
As I’m looking over the menu, the waiter keeps going on and on about how I HAVE to try their 18″ New York style pizza.
“People come here just for this pizza. We have people from New York who try it and tell us it’s the best pizza they’ve ever eaten!”
It was a little more than I wanted to spend on lunch, but how could I argue with that? Plus, the picture on the menu looked like a large 18″ round piece of heaven.
I was sold.
I ordered it and we waited. And waited. And waited.
And waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, a little over an hour later, I saw the waiter walking towards us with the pizza.
But what he put down in front of me was disappointing at best.
It wasn’t the large 18″ New York style pizza from the picture. No, it was a 12″ round piece of burnt heartbreak.
Funny thing about that pizza, it had a circular piece of cardboard underneath it that looked just like something that comes underneath the frozen pizza you buy at a grocery store.
I’m normally not one to complain about my food. I normally just eat what’s given to me and go about my business. But this? This was ridiculous.
When the waiter came back over to check on us, I asked, “So what happened here? You guys run out of ingredients and have to go buy a frozen pizza to serve me?”
I could tell I caught him off guard; like he somehow didn’t expect me to figure it out.
But he confirmed my suspicions, apologized, and offered to remove it from my bill, so that was nice I guess.
Maybe I’m just a diva, but I don’t go out to nice restaurants to eat frozen pizza.
Pictures
What are the psychological facts that can make your life easier?
- The two-minute rule: if something takes two minutes or less, do it straight away.
- Realise the whole world does not revolve around you; most people couldn't care less what you do, so make sure you do right by yourself.
- When going through hard times, realise that you’re still alive and breathing, which means you can get through it. The only challenge we ultimately are unable to surmount is death.
- Live your life in such a way that when your final day comes, you've lived life righteously, you've played your role as close to perfection as possible. Thereby making it easier to say goodbye to this floating rock with no works or deeds not fulfilled.
- He who has a why can bear almost any how. If you have a reason for living a mission, then completing this mission and knowing why you are striving for that mission will enable you to stride forward in this uncertain and complex world courageously.
- If unsure how to act, use a model for your behaviour. I.e. Christians use Jesus Christ as their model. Whoever you're envious of and respect what they've done, they can be a good model.
- Whatever habit you may have or strive to develop, to really master it, you must get better every day. For example, if you want to be a better writer, you must write and read every day and focus on becoming better one step at a time. Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you want to be. Make sure those actions are inherently good ones.
- Get your most important task done first thing in the day, for example, my most important things in my day are my faith and writing, so I pray first, then start writing. This makes sticking to your habits much easier. I also do this when attending church. For example, most practising Catholics are known to go to church on Sundays, but I try to go on Saturday evenings. This means that if for any reason I fail to go to church on Saturday, I can always go on Sunday, thereby making it much more likely I'll attend church.
- If it won't matter in ten years, think, “Why am I worrying now? “Negative circumstances can always seem much worse in the moment, but when you look at the bigger picture, most things aren't as disastrous as they first seem.
- Only compare yourself to yourself. Comparing yourself to people who are years ahead of you in a similar vocation is a path to misery.
When have you seen pride come before a fall?
A retired yakuza boss named Shigeharu Shirai was a little too proud of his tattoos.
After murdering a rival mob boss, Mr. Shirai fled Japan and left for Thailand in 2003. He led a life of leisure after this for the next fifteen years, playing cards and chess with his friends, drinking and going to the beach constantly.
A tourist spotted Mr. Shirai and his friends playing chess and was impressed by the old man’s tattoos. He asked if he could take a photo of them. “Sure,” said Shirai, “but be sure not to show my face. Just take a photo from the back, with my head turned.” Alright, fine, figured the amateur photographer, and agreed to the request. Little did Shirai know that the man would upload the pictures and that they would go viral — the internet thought it was really cool that a 74-year-old man was covered in such elaborate body decorations…
Some people in Japan spotted the tattoos and recognized them as gang tattoos. They also noticed in the picture that Mr. Shirai was missing most of his pinkie finger — another sign of him being a Yakuza member, as cutting off part of a finger is famously part of the initiation rites into the gang.
Authorities in Japan put two and two together, and alerted Thai police. Within a few days, Shigeharu Shirai was arrested. Imagine being 74, considering yourself safe and sound after over fifteen years on the run and being caught because you couldn’t resist a request to be photographed with your cool tats…
Which country has shot down most of the U-2 spy planes?
China.
A total of seven U-2 planes have been shot down. The first and most famous of course was Francis Powers in May of 1960. The infamous “U-2 Incident.” He was shot down by an SA-2 over Chelyabinsk in the USSR. After this, Eisenhower banned direct overflights of the Soviet Union.
Later, in 1962, Maj Rudolf Anderson was shot down over Cuba doing recon flights looking for missiles.
Most people don’t realize this, but we actually loaned nineteen U-2’s to the Taiwanese (though only a few at a time), who were happy to fly them over China for us. We even trained the ROCAF (Taiwan) pilots in Texas. Twenty-six of their pilots completed training and flew more than 100 missions over China. Notice the Taiwanese emblem on the side of this recovered U-2.
(On display at the Military Museum of the Chinese Peoples Revolution)
Five of them were shot down. Three of the pilots were killed, the remaining two were captured, tried for spying and sent to prison. They were not released until 1982.
Here are four of the recovered wrecks on display.
After the fifth one was shot down, the program was cancelled. The ROCAF 35th reconnaissance squadron was dissolved, but their mascot, the “Black Cat” lives on as it was transferred to the US 5th ReconSq stood up in Osan Korea.
So the record is:
USSR-2 and China-5.
Would You Make It Through Day One of the Apocalypse?
Ever wondered what would happen if a zombie outbreak occurred during a major disaster? This video looks at several "what if" scenarios and provides some critical survival tips to help you make it through the initial chaos. Learn how to prepare for the shtf situation and increase your chances of long-term survival.
What stupid policy did your work place have?
My husband was a Baltimore City Firefighter for 32 years.
This story happened to him in 1983, several years before we were married.
Back then, city fire and police officers were not allowed to call out sick from work like most civilians do.
If they were scheduled to work and became ill or injured, they had to drive to their infirmary to be put off duty by the physician there.
My husband understood this policy, as their union agreed to it. It kept illegitimate call outs to a minimum and it gave them terminal leave benefits.
Here is where that rule got stupid:
My husband was a pump operator at the time. This is the person who drives the fire engine & pumps water to the firefighters inside of a burning building.
One day, he was on a big fire. He was standing in the street next to the fire engine, manning the pumps.
The fire engine was in the middle of a small city street, blocking traffic. No other vehicles could get by.
A MTA city bus came down their street. The bus driver didn’t want to have to back up or wait, so he drove up on the sidewalk to get around the fire engine.
Unfortunately, the wheel of the bus slipped off the sidewalk. When it did, it crushed my husband between the bus and his fire engine.
The accident broke his clavicle, sternum and several ribs.
My husband said he could hear the horrified passengers screaming at the bus driver to stop.
Paramedics rushed my husband to Johns Hopkins hospital where they treated him for his fractures.
The hospital wasn't sure if he would survive. The FD brought his parents over in a red car and they called a priest in to give him last rites.
My future husband was eventually sent home with his parents for an anticipated lengthy recovery.
Now you would think, with such an extensive ON-THE-JOB injury, the fire department would waive the infirmary requirement.
Nope.
The fire department still wanted him to report to the infirmary every 3 days for re-evaluation.
My husband could not drive for several months, so the fire department sent an ambulance to his house every 3 days.
They did that for months until he was well enought to report to the instrument shop for light duty.
My husband's clavicle never did heal correctly. In spite of that, he eventually returned to full duty.
Sending an ambulance over to take him to the infirmary every 3 days was stupid.
Photo is of my husband while on light duty in 1983.
The Shattering of the Moons
Written in response to: "Write a story that has a big twist."
Sue Roberts
The sky had always been crowded.
Not with clouds or storms but with moons - half a dozen of them, silver and blue and copper, glowing softly above the planet like patient lanterns. The largest, the golden moon with its shining plateau, carried a colony of miners and dreamers. The others drifted in measured orbits, serene as pearls on invisible strings.
Fred adjusted the eyepiece of the Grand Array telescope, his hands steady despite the late hour. The brass fittings hummed faintly as he tuned them, aligning the Array to sweep across the great smear of stars. And there it was: the Big Twist Nebula, a curl of violet and crimson suspended forever on the edge of sight. Its arms wound around themselves in patterns so hypnotic that first-year apprentices sometimes forgot to breathe when they looked too long.
“You talk to it more than you talk to me,” Emily teased.
Fred glanced at her. She was bent over the logbook, curls dangling into the lamplight, a smudge of ink on her cheek.
“The Array listens better,” he said with a grin.
“The Array doesn’t share its breakfast,” she replied, and he laughed softly.
It was comfortable, the rhythm of their nights. Fred the pragmatist, Emily the dreamer, both of them bound by years of stargazing together. They had made the Observatory of Shifting Skies their home, perched above mist-choked valleys and endless mountain ridges. Here, the world fell away, and only the heavens mattered.
So when the knock came at midnight, sharp and insistent, it startled them both. No visitors ever came this far.
Fred unlatched the dome’s iron door.
Bruce stood there, tall, travel-worn, his cloak streaked with dust. His eyes were fever-bright, his jaw set. He carried a leather case stuffed with rolled charts and crystalline data cubes.
“I need your help,” he said without preamble. “It’s the Big Twist.”
Chapter Two – The Stranger’s News
They cleared the desk in haste, pushing aside star maps and empty mugs of bitter tea. Bruce unrolled his own charts, hands trembling with urgency.
“The nebula is moving,” he said. “Its arms are twisting inward, reaching toward us. I’ve checked thrice. The distortion is real.”
Emily leaned over the parchment, her breath catching. “But the Twist has been stable for centuries. The whole planet navigates by it.”
“Not anymore.” Bruce jabbed a finger at the numbers. “Gravitational anomalies. Emission lines bending. The nebula is pulling. And it’s pulling toward the planet.”
Fred frowned, folding his arms. “That would be catastrophic. Extinction-level catastrophic.”
Bruce’s eyes glittered. “Exactly. That’s why I came. We must confirm.”
Fred opened his mouth to object, but Emily was already leaning closer to Bruce’s charts. She asked questions quickly, eagerly, her eyes lighting with interest at his daring leaps of logic. Fred felt a twinge of irritation. She had never looked at his careful calculations with that kind of excitement.
Still, when she lifted her head and met his gaze, her voice was steady. “Fred, we can’t ignore this. We need to verify.”
Fred swallowed his pride. “Then let’s get to work.”
Chapter Three – Signs in the Sky
For nights they worked without rest.
Fred checked alignments until his back ached. Emily’s ink-stained fingers filled page after page with careful numbers. Bruce prowled the dome, muttering equations aloud, barely sleeping, barely eating.
Strange signs multiplied.
On the copper moon, shadows rippled where shadows should not. The golden colony-moon began to shimmer with faint auroras. Instruments in the Array trembled with interference. Even to the naked eye, the Big Twist Nebula seemed brighter, alive with colour that had never flared before.
Emily whispered once, “It looks like it’s twisting the whole sky.”
Fred said nothing, but something cold had begun to unfurl in his chest.
Tension crackled in the observatory. Bruce pressed closer to Emily as they compared notes, leaning over her shoulder, his voice low. She didn’t push him away; in fact, she smiled faintly at his boldness. Fred noticed - and noticed too that Bruce seldom looked at him except with faint contempt.
One evening, after Bruce left the dome to fetch more equipment, Fred muttered, “Don’t let him charm you.”
Emily raised her head. “Charm me? Fred, this is science. He’s brilliant. He’s seen something no one else has.”
Fred clenched his jaw. “Brilliant, yes. But reckless. He’ll say anything to make himself right.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “Or maybe you just don’t like that I’m impressed.”
Fred had no answer to that.
On the tenth night, the numbers aligned.
Emily laid her pen down with a trembling hand. “Fred. Bruce. You need to see this.”
Chapter Four – That Which Falls Apart
Emily’s calculations sprawled across the logbook. She pointed to the figures, her eyes luminous.
“The planet is safe,” she said. “The nebula isn’t pulling on us at all.”
Bruce scowled. “What nonsense is this?”
Fred leaned over, scanning the work. His brow furrowed. Then slowly, terribly, he understood.
“She’s right,” he whispered. “The pull isn’t aimed here. It’s aimed at the moons.”
Emily nodded. “Their orbits are unravelling. Look: the copper moon drifting into the path of the blue. The silver tugged towards the golden colony-moon. They’re not stable anymore. They’re going to crash into one another.”
Bruce stared. “But that would…”
“Shatter the skies,” Emily finished softly. “Once the first two collide, the chain reaction will be unstoppable. The colony… the others… gone.”
Fred’s throat closed. He had always loved the moons, their serene procession above the world. To imagine them falling, shattering, was unthinkable.
The nebula had not aimed for the planet at all. It had aimed for the moons.
Bruce gave a sharp laugh, part awe, part despair. “Do you see? This discovery will change everything. We’ll be remembered forever!”
Fred bristled. “People will die, Bruce. The colony…”
“Science demands clarity,” Bruce snapped. “History won’t care about casualties.”
Emily’s face hardened. “History begins with the truth. We have to warn them.”
Fred’s chest swelled with quiet pride - but still, a shadow lingered. Emily was siding with him now, but when Bruce spoke of glory, her eyes had glimmered before she turned away.
Chapter Five – That Which Takes Shape
Dawn found them still at their charts, hollow-eyed. Could they warn the colony? Evacuate? Was there time?
Bruce raged at the walls, scrawling frantic equations. Fred pored over trajectories until his vision blurred.
It was Emily, silent at the Array, who saw it first.
“The moons aren’t just breaking apart,” she whispered. “They’re… aligning.”
The men turned.
“After the collisions, after the fragments settle,” she said, pointing to the model she had drawn, “their orbits converge. Not random chaos. Order. They’ll form a single new body, larger than any moon we’ve ever had. Balanced perfectly between the planet and the nebula.”
Fred felt ice in his veins. “As if someone arranged it.”
Bruce’s face went pale. “As if the nebula planned this.”
The Big Twist blazed suddenly brighter, its curling arms luminous, deliberate. It did not look like a storm of dust and gas anymore. It looked like a hand, pushing pieces into place.
That night, as they stared in horror, the golden colony-moon flared with sudden light.
“An explosion?” Bruce gasped.
“No,” Emily breathed. “That’s a transmission.”
The Array chimed, receiving a signal not meant for human ears. The translation engines crackled, then spat out words.
Fred read them aloud, voice hollow.
“Do not resist. The moons are ours.”
The message repeated, again and again, as the Big Twist glared like a great, watching eye.
And beyond the observatory dome, the first of the moons began to drift off course.
Emily reached for Fred’s hand under the desk. He held it tightly.
If statehood were offered to Australia and New Zealand instead of to Canada, would they warm up faster to the idea of becoming part of the most powerful and richest country the world has ever seen? Are they more pro-America than Canadians?
Australian here. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
You're trillions of dollars in debt, led by a plutocrats, have a health system that preys on those its meant to help, has one of the worst human rights and environmental records in the world, largely uneducated and downright mean (all while purportingto be otherwise) selfish and close minded. You are essentially an angry mule walking through a desert with a beautiful forest on either side, but not going there because you are too stubborn and unwilling to see what really is in front of you!
We admittedly have issues, but you are well an truly fucked!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! the very notion is ab-so-lutely freaking laughable!
Lahooh bel Loaz (Almond Pancakes)
Yield: 10 to 12 servings
Ingredients
- 4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon yeast
- 1 cup milk
- Water
- 2 eggs
- 1 cup confectioners' sugar
- 3 tablespoons corn oil
- 1 tablespoon ground cardamom
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 2 cups almonds, roasted and ground
Instructions
- Put the flour in a bowl, add the milk, eggs, baking powder, yeast and water; mix together to form a batter; set aside to rise.
- Grease a frying pan with a little oil, pour into the pan half a ladle of batter. Spread the batter quickly into a thin pancake and fry over medium heat until the top bubbles, then turn over and brown the other side.
- Repeat using all batter.
- Mix the confectioners' sugar, cardamom and almonds together. Stuff each pancake with the mixture; roll into finger shapes, and arrange on a serving dish; sprinkle with some ground almonds.
Attribution
Saudi Arabia Magazine (an official publication of the Information Office of the Royal Embassy of Saudi Arabia), Winter 1997
What makes Navy aviators approach landings with such precision, and how does that differ from Air Force training?
Naval Aviators have to land on very short, narrow runways and that requires a lot of precision. One tiny mistake, and they send you home to Mom in a rubber bag.
Air Force pilots, on the other hand, land on wide, very long runways so they need not be so precise. However, that’s not to take anything away from our friends in the Air Force. They have their own special areas of interest which they pursue with great passion.
For example, they use great precision when they iron those Ascotts they wear around their necks, and they spit shine their flying boots with great precision too. And while Naval Aviators spend their free time chatting up good looking trashy women at the happy hour bar, you won’t fine Air Force pilots wasting their time with that sort of activity. Most likely, you’ll see three or four of them over in the corner discussing the color of their new draperies using words like puce, mauve, asparagus, and avocado.
What changed in your life?
One of the biggest changes was leaving finance.
I stumbled across this picture from eight years ago:
I actually remember taking it to send to my then girlfriend when she asked what I was up to.
I was stuck at the office still at 8 PM and had been working long hours for months, hence my looking tired in this picture. Finance eventually ruined that relationship as well.
The career started off great but eventually became too much, and I realized I wasn’t passionate enough about anything to be working 60+ hour weeks for months on end (and stressful hours at that). Fortunately, I discovered writing and it gave me an off ramp to a much better life.
It’s important to routinely check in with yourself about where you are headed. Make sure you aren’t just blindly wasting your life away for someone else’s dream, or one that’s been foisted upon you.
The American Empire Is Crumbling Before Your Eyes... | Prof. Jeff Sachs
