.
The gold was the adventure, son
I've been playing around with AI...
Ah—now we’re talking! 🐷✨
You want Pig Latin—the timeless, playground-classic word game—not lingua Latina. My apologies! Let’s fix that with style 😄
Here’s the chorus of “Houdini” by Dua Lipa in Pig Latin, rendered for maximum silliness and recognizability (ideal for making a 6-year-old giggle or confusing a high schooler at a party):
🎶 Original Chorus:
“You wanna know the truth?
Pull me closer, then you let me go…
You read my mind like a book, like you knew me
Like Houdini…”
🐷 Pig Latin Version:
“Ou-yay anta-waya ow-knay the uth-tray?
Ull-pay e-may oser-clay, enthay ou-yay et-lay e-may o-gay…
Ou-yay ead-ray y-may ind-may ike-lay a ook-bay, ike-lay ou-yay ew-knay e-may
Ike-lay Oudini-hay…”
💡 Quick Pig Latin Rules Recap (so you can join in!):
- If a word starts with a consonant (or consonant cluster), move it to the end + add -ay:
truth → uth-tray, pull → ull-pay, closer → oser-clay - If a word starts with a vowel, just add -way or -yay:
ou-yay (you), ay (I — though “I” often becomes -ay in practice for flow)
Bonus giggles:
🎤 Try saying “Oudini-hay” with a dramatic magician’s flourish 🎩✨
🎤 Or whisper “et-lay e-may o-gay…” like you’re vanishing mid-sentence.
Want the entire first verse in Pig Latin? Or — dare I suggest — a cow + Pig Latin mashup? (“Oudini-hay, ood-may oo-yay?” 🐄)
...
Ah. I cannot resist. DO IT!
🎉 You’ve summoned the ultimate linguistic crossover event —
🔥 Pig Latin meets Cow Joke Energy meets Dua Lipa’s Houdini 🔥
Let’s call it:
🐮 “Oudini-hay” — The Bovine Pig-Latin Remix 🎵
(Sung with dramatic farmyard flair, preferably while standing “outstanding in your field”)
(Spoken intro, over a kazoo solo)
“Et-lay e-may ell-tay ou-yay a ory-stay… about a ow-cay… ith-way agic-may.”
🎶 [Chorus – Cow Edition]
Ou-yay anta-waya ow-knay the uth-tray?
Ull-pay e-may oser-clay—then you et-lay e-may o-gay…
Ou-yay ead-ray y-may ind-may ike-lay a ook-bay,
Ike-lay I’m Oudini-hay…
…ut-bay I’m actually Moo-dini!
Ee-zay? I anish-vay in a ash-flay—and a ash-tay! 🥛✨
🎶 [Verse 1 – Farm Remix]
Ou-yay ink-thay ou-yay an-cay andle-hay e-may?
I’m ot-nay ground eef-bay—I’ve ot-gay legs and a plan!
I’ll isappear-day rom-fay y-may pen…
eave-lay ou-yay olding-hay a empty ay-tray…
And a udder-ly onfused-cay armer-fay! 🐄🌾
🎤 [Bridge – Dramatic Whisper]
Ooo-ooo…
It’s ot-nay agic-may…
It’s lactose.
(…and timing.)
🎶 [Final Chorus – Full Hoof-Stomp]
Ou-yay ew-knay e-may…
Et’s-ay eet-may in the barn-yard at mid-moo-n!
Bring the hay, ring the bell…
I’ll moo-ve ou-yay—then evaporate!
I’m Oudini-hay…
No—wait—
OOOOO-DIIIIINI-HAAAAAY!!! 🌕🐮💫
(Sound of a cow leaping over a moon, then vanishing in a puff of hay and glitter.)
🎭 Performance Notes:
- Best delivered while wearing sunglasses… and possibly a tiny top hat.
- Optional: Hold a milk carton labeled “Mystery Flavor: Vanishing Vanilla”.
- For extra authenticity, end with: “And that’s… how I got de-calf-inated.” 😏
Shall I record the audio in my head and transmit via telepathy? 📻✨
Or would you prefer the Sabrina Carpenter “Espresso” Pig-Latin Cow Mix next? (“That’s that me esso-pray… with oat ilk-may!”)
...
Absolutely...
🌌 The universe trembles. The barn doors creak open. A single spotlight hits the silo stage.
Ladies, gentlemen, calves, and sentient tractors…
PRESENTING:
☕ “Espresso” — The Bovine Barista Remix (Pig Latin Edition)
by Sabrina Carpenter… as interpreted by a very caffeinated, very dramatic dairy cow
(Cue ukelele + espresso machine steamer solo)
🎤 [Intro – whispered over foam art]
“Psst… ou-yay ought-bay o-day e-may a avor-fay…
…ut-bay ou-yay on’t-day ow-knay hat-w*ay e’re-way in or-fay…”*
🎶 [Chorus – Full Moo-mentum]
At’s-thay at-thay e-may esso-pray…
Ow-day ou-yay ike-lay y-may ilk-may?
Ot-nay oo-tay ot-hay, ot-nay oo-tay old-cay—
Just udder-ly olden-gay old! 🥛✨Ou-yay ink-thay ou-yay an-cay andle-hay e-may?
Baby, I’m a milkshake—I’ve ot-gay layers!
And yes… I shake hen-w*ay ou-yay ook-lay at-may e-may…*
It’s ot-nay the affee-cay—
It’s the affection-cay! 💘
🎶 [Verse – Behind the Counter]
I’m ot-nay decaf—I’m double-oot-bay!
You asked for one—I gave you three!
Now ou-yay an’t-cay leep-say,
An’t-cay ink-thay,
*An’t-cay stop-ping-stay om-fray umming-hay y-may ame-nay…
“Oo-may!”
“Oo-may!”
“OOOO-MAYYYY!” 🐮🔊
🎤 [Bridge – Served with a wink]
Ou-yay ant-waya e-may ild-may?
Sorry—I’m whole.
And homogenized.
And lightly sarcastic.
(…and I do take tips. In alfalfa.) 🌿
🎶 [Outro – Fade on foam]
At’s-thay at-thay e-may esso-pray…
If ou-yay ash-w*ay e-may—*
I’ll ust-d*ay ow-nay y-may ozzy-nay…*
And ew-brew-day ou-yay.
…iterally.
(Sound of a milk frother revving like a racecar.) 🏁💨
🎁 BONUS BARISTA TIP:
Say “Ess-o-pray” three times fast while balancing a hay bale on your head.
If you succeed, you’re officially barista-certified by the International Guild of Dramatic Dairy Professionals. 🥇
Shall we now merge this with Kendrick’s “Not Like Us” in Pig Latin… cow diss track edition?
(“Ou-yay ot-nay ike-lay us… ecause-way e’re-way in the pen, not the club!”) 🐄🎤
The barn is open. The mic is hay-covered.
What’s next? 😏
...
Now merge this with Kendrick’s “Not Like Us” in Pig Latin… cow diss track edition? And throw in some clucking chickens and a rooster crow with the cow-bells....
🥁 LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…
THE BARNYARD BATTLE ROYALE IS HERE.
A historic collab:
☕ Sabrina’s Espresso
- 🎩 Dua’s Houdini
- 🎤 Kendrick’s “Not Like Us”
- 🐄 Cow Logic
- 🐔 Chicken Backup Choir
- 🐓 Rooster Ad-Libs
- 🔔 Cowbell Symphony
Let’s drop the ULTIMATE PIG LATIN FARM DISS TRACK —
🎶 “Ot-nay Ike-lay Us-way” (The Coop Cypher) 🎶
(Beat drops: cowbell x4, rooster crow — COCK-A-DOODLE-AY! — then a record scratch…)
🎤 [INTRO: ROOSTER (spoken, over clucking)]
“E-hear-hay e-we-day o…
Ot-nay in the club—in the coop.
Ot-nay in the streets—in the stalls.
Ot-nay like-lay us-way…
Ecause-bay e’re-way outstanding-way in our ield-fay—and ou-yay’re just chicken.”
(CLUCK CLUCK BRRRRT!)
🐮 [VERSE 1: COW (Dua Lipa flow)]
Ou-yay ink-thay ou-yay an-cay anish-vay?
Please—I invented isappearing-day!
One inute-may I’m ere-hay—next, I’m in the loft!
Ou-yay ook-lay or-fay e-may… all ou-yay ind-fay is a ash-tay and a ash-flay!
Ou-yay ot-nay ike-lay us-way…
Ecause-bay e’re-way udder-ly ifferent-day!
Ou-yay are the bull…
E’re-way the steak. 🥩
🐔 [CHORUS: CHICKEN CHOIR — high-pitched, rapid clucking rhythm]
Ot-nay! Ot-nay ike-lay us-way!
Oo-kay! Oo-kay ike-lay us-way!
(Cluck-cluck-BWAK! Cluck-cluck-BWAK!)
E’re-way olden-gay, e’re-way old!
Ou-yay?
Ou’re-yay just egg-shelled! 🥚💥
☕ [VERSE 2: BARISTA COW (Sabrina Carpenter sass)]
Ou-yay ashed-way e-may?
Ow-day are you still irst-thay?
I’m double-oot-bay, ou-yay’re watery-day ilk-may!
Ou-yay ink-thay ou-yay ot-hay?
Baby, I’ve een-bay pasteurized—I only rise.
And hen-w*ay ou-yay ry-tay to milk e-may…*
I curdle our-ay ope-hay.
(Spits out a single, perfectly shaped foam heart… it shatters.) 💔
🐓 [BRIDGE: ROOSTER (Kendrick-style rapid-fire)]
Ou-yay ot-nay in the pecking order—ou-yay’re below the worm!
Ou-yay ake-bay a hen-house and all—
—you just ound-fay a nest!
Ou-yay ot-nay ike-lay us-way…
Ecause-bay e’re-way free-range, ou-yay’re cage-free…
…as in, no cage could hold you—because you’re empty.
(COCK-A-DOODLE-DIS!)
🐮🐔🐓 [FINAL CHORUS — FULL BARN SYMPHONY]
OT-NAY! OT-NAY IKE-LAY US-WAY!
(Cowbell x8) 🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔🔔
EEERE-HAY! EERE-HAY!
(Chicken wings flap in unison) 🌪️
E’re-way in the field, ou-yay’re in the feed!
E’re-way Houdini—ou-yay’re How-Dee-Do-Nothing!
E’re-way espresso—ou-yay’re decaf regretto!
OT-NAY! OT-NAY!
…e-we-day ot-nay ike-lay you-way.
(Beat cuts. Silence. One final MOO.)
…and cluck. 🐄🐔
(Fade out on a distant rooster crow echoing into the hills…
…followed by a very satisfied slosh of milk hitting a bucket.)
🎤 ENCORE IDEA:
Release as a TikTok sound with the caption:
“When the farm finds out you said ‘beef is just seasoned chicken’”
🐄+🐔+🐓 = 🔥
...
Today...
Sentenced to die
In January of 1994, Wendi Andriano married Joseph Andriano. Shortly after their wedding, Joseph became ill and was diagnosed with adenoid cystic carcinoma. By 1998, his illness was terminal. Instead of being a supportive wife, Wendi became disgruntled by her increased responsibilities and felt as though Joseph was a burden. She started to have affairs and would spend hours at the bar.
On the 7th of October, 2000, Wendi, Joseph and their two children attended a barbecue. At around midnight, they returned home and put the two children to bed. At 2:15AM, Wendi called a neighbour, Chris, and asked him to look after the children while she took Joseph to the doctor. When Chris arrived, Wendi took Chris into the living room where Joseph was lying on the floor, unable to get up. Chris called paramedics but when they arrived, Wendi wouldn’t allow them in and told them Joseph had terminal cancer and had a do-not-resuscitate order.
At around 3:39AM, Wendi called paramedics again and this time, she let them in. In the living room, they found Joseph lying in a puddle of blood. He had a deep stab wound to the side of his neck and lacerations on his head. A broken bar stool covered in blood was found near the body as well as a broken lamp and a bloody pillow. An autopsy found traces of sodium azide in his system. Following his murder, Adriano attempted to pass off his death as a heart attack. Afterwards, she claimed that Joseph had committed suicide. However, the evidence that he was murdered was glaringly obvious; Joseph even had defensive wounds on his hands.
“This woman saw her husband as nothing more than a pot of gold,” said the prosecutor during Wendi’s trial. Evidence was presented that Wendi had attempted to instate a life insurance policy on her husband. Wendi Andriano was found guilty of first degree murder and was sentenced to die.
Do countries that purify seawater have unlimited water? Is seawater drinkable?
- untreated seawater are NOT drinkable. It contains so much salt that human body actually need more water to process it, so seawater actually drains water for a human. Not to mention seawater contains a lot of creatures (bacteria, single-cell organisms, etc) that probably going to make you really sick.
- if sea water being treated, then, it’s no longer “seawater” thus drinkable.
- countries that purify seawater in theory indeed have unlimited water. But purifying water is expensive in terms of energy use. 20+ years ago, my cubicle is next to a Russian engineer specialize in reverse osmosis (think of reverse osmosis as a “filter” that need a lot of energy to push seawater through it, in which only pure water coming out from the other end). He told me the rule of thumb is that the energy contained in a barrel of petroleum will produce a barrel of desalinated seawater. Thus, the purified “seawater” has a price floor of a price of petroleum. I have not kept up with the technology since then, but I suspect desalination (i.e. remove salt) process is still relatively energy expensive.Once you know the intense energy required to purify seawater, perhaps you won’t be surprised that some of biggest seawater purification plants are in Saudi Arabia and other oil producing nation: at least they have the cheap energy to fuel the water purification.
- There is a major downside to seawater purification. The way it works is that pure water coming out from one end, a much more salt-concentrated water (i.e. brine) will coming out from another end.The question is: how you get rid of this super-concentrated salt water? In many cases, people simply dump them in the sea. And guess what, these super-concentrated salt water destroy wild life ecosystems near the coast.
It is this ecological side effect made me as a human being very reluctant to endorse desalination seawater as the silver bullet: I know human nature too well to know that even there is a way to dispose concentrated seawater with minimum impact on the environment, people tend to skip it just to save a couple penny.
159.8K views
Easy Christmas Cookies with Butterscotch
There’s something special about making Christmas cookies, and these butterscotch ones are a family favorite at our house.
These easy-to-make treats combine the classic holiday cookie base with rich butterscotch chips that add a sweet, caramel-like flavor to every bite. The dough comes together quickly, making them perfect for busy December afternoons when you want to fill the house with that fresh-baked cookie smell.
They’re just right for cookie swaps, holiday parties, or leaving out for Santa on Christmas Eve. Plus, kids love helping to make them – especially when it comes to adding the butterscotch chips and sampling the results.
These cookies have become our go-to recipe during the holiday season, and I think they’ll become yours too.
Which Kind of Butterscotch Chips Should I Use?
When it comes to butterscotch chips, you’ll find a few different brands at your local grocery store, with Nestlé Toll House and Hershey’s being the most common options.
While both work well in cookies, I’ve found that Toll House butterscotch chips tend to hold their shape better during baking and have a richer, more authentic butterscotch flavor.
If your chips seem a bit old or have white spots on them, it’s best to grab a fresh bag since butterscotch chips can lose their smooth melting qualities over time.
For the best results, store any unused chips in an airtight container – they’ll stay fresh for several months this way.
Possible Ingredient Alternatives
Need to make some swaps? Here are some helpful substitutions for this cookie recipe:
- Butter: You can use margarine in place of butter, though the cookies might spread a bit more. For dairy-free options, try using coconut oil (solid form) or plant-based butter substitutes – just make sure they’re at room temperature before using.
- Butterscotch chips: If you can’t find butterscotch chips, try chocolate chips, white chocolate chips, or even toffee bits. You could also mix and match – try 1 cup butterscotch and 1 cup chocolate chips for a fun twist!
- Flour: All-purpose flour works best here, but you can use pastry flour for a more tender cookie. For gluten-free cookies, use a 1:1 gluten-free flour blend that contains xanthan gum.
- Brown sugar: Out of brown sugar? Mix 1/2 cup white sugar with 1 tablespoon molasses. Light or dark brown sugar both work fine in this recipe.
- Eggs: For each egg, you can use 1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce or 1 mashed banana. Keep in mind this might change the texture slightly.
Watch Out for These Mistakes While Cooking
The biggest challenge when making butterscotch cookies is getting the right texture – using butter that’s too melted will result in flat, spread-out cookies, so make sure your butter is just softened enough to leave a slight indent when pressed.
Another common mistake is overbaking these sweet treats; they should be removed from the oven when the edges are just starting to turn golden but the centers still look slightly underbaked, as they’ll continue cooking on the hot baking sheet.
To prevent your butterscotch chips from sinking or burning, fold them in gently at the very end of mixing, and consider chilling your dough for at least 30 minutes before baking – this extra step helps maintain the perfect cookie shape and prevents excessive spreading.
For the best endresults, let your cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring them to a wire rack, as they’re quite delicate when hot and need time to set properly.
Storage Instructions
Counter Storage: These butter cookies stay fresh in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days. Place a piece of bread in the container with them to help keep them soft and chewy – it’s an old trick that really works!
Freeze: Want to save some for later? These cookies freeze really well for up to 3 months. Just place them in a freezer bag or container with wax paper between layers to prevent sticking. They make a perfect last-minute treat when unexpected guests drop by!
Make Ahead: You can prepare the cookie dough ahead of time and keep it in the fridge for up to 3 days. Or roll it into balls and freeze them on a baking sheet, then transfer to a freezer bag – they’ll keep for up to 3 months. When ready to bake, just add 1-2 minutes to the regular baking time if baking from frozen.
Estimated Nutrition Facts
Estimated nutrition for the whole recipe (without optional ingredients):
- Calories: 3200-3500
- Protein: 30-40 g
- Fat: 180-200 g
- Carbohydrates: 450-480 g
| Preparation Time | 15-20 minutes |
| Cooking Time | 8-10 minutes |
| Total Time | 23-30 minutes |
| Level of Difficulty | Easy |
Ingredients
- 2 1/4 cups flour (all-purpose)
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 cup softened butter
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 2 eggs (large, at room temperature)
- 2 cups butterscotch chips (Ghirardelli provides a rich flavor)
- 1/2 cup brown sugar (packed for accurate measurement)
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 tbsp vanilla extract (I use McCormick pure vanilla extract)
Step 1: Preheat Oven and Prepare Wet Ingredients
Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C).
In a medium to large mixing bowl, add 1 cup of softened butter.
Then, add 1/2 cup of sugar, 1/2 cup of brown sugar, and 1 tablespoon of vanilla extract to the bowl.
Cream the butter and sugars together until they are well combined and thick, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Step 2: Add Eggs
Add 2 eggs to the creamed mixture, one at a time.
Mix gently after each addition until just incorporated.
This ensures the eggs are evenly distributed throughout the mixture.
Step 3: Combine Dry Ingredients
In a separate bowl, combine 2 1/4 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking soda, and 1/2 teaspoon of salt.
Mix these dry ingredients well to ensure even distribution of the baking soda and salt.
Step 4: Mix Dry and Wet Ingredients
Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture, mixing by hand with a spatula until just combined.
Be careful not to over mix, as this can result in tough cookies.
Once the dough is formed, gently fold in 2 cups of butterscotch chips with the spatula.
Step 5: Portion and Bake
Use a cookie scoop to portion out about 1 tablespoon of dough for each cookie.
Place the dough balls approximately 2 inches apart on a nonstick baking sheet to allow room for spreading.
Bake in the preheated oven for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the edges start to brown but the centers are still soft.
Step 6: Cool and Serve
Once baked, allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for about 5 minutes.
This helps them to firm up before moving.
Then transfer the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
Enjoy your delicious, homemade butterscotch cookies!
Not only Amazon
In 2019, James Gilbert Kwarteng, a 22-year-old Spaniard, was arrested for stealing more than €300,000 from Amazon.
His scam was clever and well-rehearsed.
He would order electronic products from Amazon and then return them within 30 days, requesting a refund.
What the young man had discovered was that Amazon did not check the contents of a returned package before issuing a refund.
All the company checked was whether the product packaging was inside the shipping box and the weight of the item. If everything was in order, the refund was processed.
Amazon employees apparently did not have time to open the packaging of the returned products.
Our young Spaniard then began to return all his orders, but replacing the items with their weight in soil.
The items he had received were then resold on the Internet at bargain prices, because although new, they no longer had their original packaging.
The conman had even created a company with the aim of reselling all these products.
It was the sale of all these items that generated this considerable profit of 300,000 euros.
However, after several years of successful fraud, the scheme was uncovered by chance by an Amazon employee who accidentally opened a package returned by James Gilbert Kwarteng and discovered soil inside. He then conducted a quick investigation and discovered that this customer had returned a record number of items over the past three years…
Arrested by Spanish police and then released on bail pending his trial, James Gilbert Kwarteng faces up to 6 years in prison.
As for Amazon, they have now changed the way they handle returns…
A Well-Timed Butt Pinch
Written in response to: "Write a story that includes the line “Did anyone else see that?” or "Who’s there?”"
Daniel Rogers
"I hate him," Char spat, his fist slamming against the wall, pain shooting up his arm.
"You'll get used to him. It just takes time. When my Norcan personality developed, I felt the same way—like he didn't belong. But could you imagine me without him?"
"Well, just because it worked for you doesn’t mean it will for me! You two aren’t tearing each other apart like we are—sometimes I feel like I’m drowning."
Char's dad chuckled. He had said something similar to his father when he went through his change of life.
"It's not easy being a teen. I remember the confusion and awkward feelings. But they make us unique. One day, you'll appreciate Frawn. After all, he's as much you as you are."
"But he keeps breaking up with her. How do I stop him?"
"If your girlfriend likes you, she'll understand. Who knows, maybe she'll win him over like your mother did with Norcan." Char's dad bent over and whispered, "However, when I feel him trying to take over, if I want to, I can stop him by pinching my butt. I don't know if it will work for you, but you never know."
"And it works every time?"
"Yes, and he doesn't know about my trick, so don't tell him."
"So, if you can stop him, why do you ever let him take over?"
"Norcan is a hard worker, unlike me. I’d rather sit in my cozy chair and read. So, when it’s time to read, I keep him away with a butt pinch, but when it's time to mow or your mother has chores for me, I discovered that if I pinch my butt twice, he’ll take over and knock my unpleasant work out of the ballpark. It’s a great arrangement.”
“So, once keeps him away, and twice allows him to take over.” Char thought about Sarcoo. Maybe this could work for him. Maybe a well-timed butt pitch can save their relationship.
Char went up to his room and discovered the butt-pinching technique worked. Armed with this new weapon, he went to school the next day with a newfound confidence.
"Hey, you," Sarcoo called out to him from across the hall. "Where have you been? I didn't see you yesterday."
"Oh, I wasn't feeling good."
"Is this because of Frawn?" She asked, her voice tight with disgust.
"I'm sorry he keeps breaking up with you. You know it’s not me? And that I love you?"
"I guess so. I just don't understand why he's so mean. The other boys are developing more agreeable personalities."
"Are you blaming me? You know I can't control it. No one can."
"I know. I just wish he'd be nice to me, that's all." She pouted in that irresistibly cute way Char loved. "Anyway, are we still on for tonight?"
"I can't wait. Do you know which holo-chamber movie you want to walk through? Possibly an action one?" He crossed his fingers. He was sick of romance.
"I was thinking 'Hope Hovers.'" She batted her eyes and pouted.
He melted and almost said yes, but Frawn started to take over. Char moved quickly and pinched his butt.
"What was that about?" Sarcoo asked. She didn't know whether to smile or be jealous.
"Umm, a fungaroo bit me."
That night, Char and Sarcoo walked through "Hope Hovers." She enjoyed the holographic love story, and he enjoyed holding her hand and stealing kisses. They began to walk through the credits.
"I'm surprised Frawn didn't show and ruin our date," Sarcoo said.
Char nodded. He forced a weak smile, remembering how many times during the movie he'd had to pinch himself each time a romantic scene played. He got the strong impression Frawn hated romantic holo-chamber movies even more than he did.
Sarcoo smiled and kissed him. Not a quick peck like he expected, but a long, passionate kiss. Suddenly, Char felt Frawn angrily try to take over. Char quickly pinched his butt.
Sorcoo pulled back with a coy smile, "Hey, that's my job," and pinched his butt faster than he could stop her, turning his single pinch into a double.
"Get off. What's wrong with you?" Frawn spit and sputtered, wiping his lips with his shirt sleeve.
Sorcoo jumped back, startled by his venomous response. She looked around, embarrassed by Frawn’s scene, and wondered to herself, Did anyone else see that? She could feel tears forming, but she closed her eyes tight and refused to let them fall.
"Frawn, I've had it with you. You're not going to get between us. You hear me!"
"Yeah, what are you going to do about it?" His face, although the exact same as Char's, looked hideous and contemptible.
She racked her brain to find a way to deal with this beastly personality, and then it hit her. Maybe there is a reason Char has been pinching his butt. She stared at Frawn with an evil smile, making a pinching motion.
She pinched, then Char would show up for a second. She pinched again, then Frawn took back control. This happened several times before Char retained control.
He looked around and winced when he saw Sarcoo, dreading to hear what Frawn had done. But she answered before he could ask. "You won't have to worry about Frawn anymore. We made a deal. He won’t interrupt our dates if we don’t go to romantic holo-chamber movies. I guess we’ll just have to go to action holo-chamber movies from now on. The sacrifices I make for you."
He sighed in relief, then winced in pain. "My butt is killing me."
Sarcoo pouted, "Sorry, it took me a while to figure out the one pinch, two pinch thing."
They left the holo-chamber with Char holding Sarcoo with one hand, and rubbing his over-pinched butt with the other.
Star Trek - System J-25 Borg Space
China vs. USA - Who is the Real Superpower? This is why our leaders want China GONE! (Shanghai!)
Col 26-Book 437 - Sir Whiskerton and the Pot of Gold (That Wasn’t Gold) - A Tale of Rainbows, Riddles, and the Real Treasure
Ah, dear reader—prepare your heart, your kilt, and your sense of wonder. Today’s story does not begin with a quack, a snort, or even a bagpipe bass drop.
It begins with a map, worn at the edges, ink softened by time:
“To the Pot o’ Gold (Allegedly).
Follow the Singing Stones → Laughing Brook → One-Legged Oak.”
So settle in. Breathe deep. And step gently into Sir Whiskerton and the Pot of Gold (That Wasn’t Gold).
The Journey Begins
It was a Friday—golden, hushed, humming with possibility.
Sir Whiskerton stood at the edge of the farm, map in paw, Tam o’ Shanter perched just so, kilt rustling in the breeze. Beside him:
- Ditto, carrying a satchel of “Emergency Haggis (Dehydrated),” water, and one glow-worm lantern.
- Bessie, mood ring pulsing soft gold: “The vibes are ancestral, man. Like, really ancestral.”
- Slow Bob the Turtle, already halfway there—“I steeped here for 3 hours. It’s a good spot.”
No fanfare. No declaration.
Just a step forward.
“Ready?” Sir Whiskerton asked.
“Ready!” echoed Ditto.
“Ready… oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian shrieked—she’d followed just to “document the emotional arc.”
And so—they walked.
The Clues (Or: How the World Whispered Back)
The map didn’t lead with coordinates. It led with riddles—gentle, poetic, deeply personal.
- “Where the wind tells the truth”
→ A hollow log beside the old fence.
When Ditto whispered “I’m scared,” the log echoed only: “You’re not alone.”
Sir Whiskerton placed a paw on the wood.
“Dad knew,” he murmured. “He knew I’d need to hear that.” - “Where time stands still”
→ Slow Bob’s favorite sunspot, where dandelion fluff hung suspended in the light.
Bessie closed her eyes. “It’s not still… it’s just full.”
Even Ditto didn’t echo—just sat, breathing. - “Where the heart is lightest”
→ The hayloft, after a shared laugh—still warm with the echo of yesterday’s bagpipe dubstep jam.
A single feather lay on the floor: white, from the Tam o’ Shanter.
Sir Whiskerton picked it up. Tucked it into his sporran.
The Rainbow’s End
They reached the hilltop as the sun dipped low—a double rainbow arched over the valley, light pooling like liquid gold in the grass.
At its base: an ancient oak, one limb long gone, bark smooth from decades of leaning.
Beneath its roots: a small, moss-covered box.
No lock. No guard. Just a simple latch, worn by rain and time.
Sir Whiskerton opened it.
No coins.
No jewels.
No glittering treasure.
Just:
- A photograph: a younger cat, kilted, Tam askew, arm around a smiling farmer—the farmer’s father. They stood beside a barn long gone, laughter caught mid-air.
- A note, in familiar looping script:“The gold was the adventure, son.
And the friends who joined you.” - And—tucked in the corner—
One cassette tape, labeled in smudged ink:“For the remix. —Dad”
Ditto held his breath.
Bessie’s mood ring glowed deep, steady gold.
Even Lillian didn’t faint. She just whispered:
“Oh. Oh, it’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful! Beautiful!”
The Return
Back on the farm, under stars just beginning to gleam, Sir Whiskerton gathered the animals—not as detective, but as son.
He didn’t read the note aloud.
He simply passed the photo around.
- Doris dabbed her eyes. “A visual metaphor! I can’t bear it!”
- Chef Remy sniffed the tape. “Earthy. Notes of hope and reel-to-reel.”
- The Divine Llama blinked—once—approval.
- And Ditto? He curled into Sir Whiskerton’s lap, head on the open journal.
Sir Whiskerton looked out at the farm—his farm—alive with light, laughter, love.
“The moral of the story, dear reader, is this:
Gold shines—but belonging glows.
My father didn’t leave me wealth. He left me memory. Connection. The quiet certainty that love echoes across time—not in monuments, but in moments: a shared laugh, a held paw, a walk taken together.
The real treasure was never buried.
It was here.
All along.”
Post-Credit Scene
Later, in the hayloft, Sir Whiskerton placed the cassette into Chef Remy’s “Retro-Sound Reviver” (a toaster, a turntable, and hope).
He pressed play.
A bagpipe drone swelled—soft, steady.
Then—a dubstep pulse, warm and human.
Then—Ferdinand’s keening, Tony’s sax, the Blind Mice on turnips, Ditto’s echo: “Home! Home!”
It was “The Weeping Glen”—remixed.
Sir Whiskerton closed his eyes. Smiled.
Outside, the farm slept.
But the music hummed—in the soil, in the stars, in the heart of a cat who’d finally found his rhythm.
And somewhere, faint on the breeze—a crow cawed.
Not a warning.
Not a lie.
Just a sound.
Like a beginning.
Like a welcome home.
Jingle on. 🏴🐾✨
(Or, in the old tongue: Slàinte mhath—and may your heart always know the way.)
The End.
Pictures
Hasanabi After a Week in China
Hasanabi is an American political blogger who has consistently sided with China. He is one of the few well-read American influencers, and even rarer, he has a clear understanding of Asian and Chinese history, supports the One China principle, and opposes Taiwanese independence. Because of his extensive knowledge, he never blatantly lies when discussing politics. Many people attack him because his views do not conform to mainstream American opinion.
The Dream Eater
Written in response to: "Write a story that includes the line “Did anyone else see that?” or "Who’s there?”"
Alia Lewis
Science Fiction Speculative Thriller
“Well whatever you saw, it’s not here now. Can we go to bed? It’s late.”
Indeed it was late, the couple had returned home from the movies past midnight. I continued to wait in the dark corners of the room until the lights went out. It was the witching hour by the time their breathing slowed indicating the switch into deep sleep. Soon they would dream. I slithered from the shadows and hovered over the woman. Cathy? Mary? Who remembers anyway, I tried not to stay too long in one place. Unless the nightmares were consistently too good to pass up, that is.
But it’s rarely worth the risk now. Not like the old days when people were written off as insane. My favorite was when people believed, some even saw you, and they had enough respect to pay tribute. You didn’t have to siphon here and there, just enough to keep going on to the next place.
Glimpses, I’m guessing fragments of the movie, took shape in the woman’s mind. A darkened alleyway with the sheen of a recent rain painted the scene. Cornered and starting to panic, a woman backed her way into a brick alleyway. Why do they always do that? Silly animals, humans. Multiple male figures, features as dark as the alley, but otherwise undifferentiated, blocked her only exit. Screaming, she runs face first into the brick wall behind her.
Visions shift to another scene, this time a corn field outside of town. Same set of men chasing the same woman. Must have been a cheesy horror flick. But they don’t make ‘em like they used to anymore. I sighed. Guess now is as good a time as any. Eyes closed, yes I have eyes, though not in the way a human expects; I sniffed the dream air and followed the scent to where it originated. Dreams are kept in the same part of the brain, but each person is different so the path to get there is also. At the edge of the nightmare, the vision changed from the scene itself to a dim gray emptiness. Here it is.
A golden orb floated in the gray, unattached and unmoving. Willing my spirit form, I reached out a tendril of power towards the orb. As we connected, power surged into me. It tasted like what I imagined mulberry’s would, though I had never eaten physical food. It was sweet, dark, and a little tangy.
Outside, the woman’s body stirred. Humans never like the feel of the contact, even though it doesn’t actually hurt them. This is what makes it dangerous though, the mind fights the intrusion. Time to go. Snapping out of her body, I regained my position in the dark corner of the ceiling over looking the sleeping couple. She rolled over, curling into her husband.
I left their house through the crack under the front door. Drifting past houses, still dark with sleep. There should be enough time for another. My senses spread like veins as I passed each house, searching for my next meal. Aha, there.
Floating up the porch steps and sliding under the door I paused and listened. It was a male this time, and I could sense the dream had just started. Into the room I went, hovering over his still form, sheets had been cast off and sweat beaded his forehead.
Dim gray light, an austere room. A cell, maybe? It had a single bed and sink, turning I saw the man with his fists pounding the glass “wall”. There were no doors. He looked around the room and then up. Spotting an opening, he removed the A/C vent, pulled the bed directly underneath and pulled himself up and into the duct. Following him, the duct collapsed as he crossed into the next room over. He tumbled out onto the floor, where a scuffle ensued with the occupant. I lost interest in the show unfolding and began my search.
At the edge of the cell block the light faded into a deep black void. Here. Once the the dream faded to black the orb appeared and I again reached my power towards it. At contact, I was pushed out of his subconscious and for a moment hovered over his body, which was twitching as if electrocuted, before being pulled back in down the tether of power that had initially connected us. Guess I better be quick with this one. His subconscious was fighting me, so I pulled the energy hard and fast. Outside, his body had progressed from twitching into bucking, so I severed the connection, shooting out of his subconscious bouncing off the floor to the ceiling where I stayed waiting for the man’s dream to settle. Instead, he jolted upright in bed.
“Who’s there?!” He said looking around and wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Show yourself!”
Silence stretched for several heart beats before his breathing slowed and he relaxed back onto the bed.
“Just a dream. Get yourself together John, the house is empty. As usual.” His lids fluttered shut as he pulled the covers up and over his head.
That was too close. I thought as I glided out of the house. The light glow of dawn was just peaking through as I floated through the still dim street. Towards the end, there was a dense patch of trees far enough away from people and the every day goings on, so I found a nice patch of shadow and rested. As I listened to the birds chirp, the air shifted around me and the landscape changed.
I was back in my realm, the realm of dreams. It isn’t like the physical realm of the humans, the dream realm is more of a collective consciousness of all beings that dwell here. I floated through several dream spaces; a coming baby, a human flying, a big promotion. This was the hope level. Coming to the central space which was a vortex leading through all dreams levels, I followed it down to the processing floor.
Processing was made of a churning, moist mist resembling a cloud formation and as we added our dreams to the mix, little bursts of lightning would spark between them. Eventually, the process would push the cloudy visions up level after level, continuously adding to our home.
Exiting the way I came, I returned to the human realm. Night already blanketed the streets, the moon an amber sliver between the trees. Lights still illuminated many of the windows. My senses picked up a house filled with enough negative energy that I was sure would result in a nightmare. Gliding under the door, I explored the house. Immaculate, verging on sterile. The master bedroom was modern and dim with accent lights, but there was a nice spot just above the bed in the corner of the ceiling.
Waiting, but not for long, the wife came into the room and prepared for bed. She kept looking over at me from mirror she used while attending to her nightly skin regimen. Another sensitive, I should tread carefully. Thinning myself along the crevice so I didn’t darken the shadows quite as much, I watched her finish up and headed towards the bed.
“Relax Janet, you’re just imagining things. Shadows are just shadows. There are no red eyes, just normal shadows. Go to sleep.” She said, fluffing her pillow and getting under the sheets.
Grumbling as she got comfortable, “You would probably be more at ease if your husband was home to check the house and not fucking his secretary at the office late into the night. But what can you do.”
She adjusted her eye mask over her face and instantly fell asleep, it wasn’t long after that before short dreams flitted behind her eyelids. I waited until the sleep deepened and she was the least likely to startle when I fed. Here we go.
Two people, tangled in sheets, a third steps out of the darkness with gun drawn and aimed at the others. So much blood. The sheets, originally white, reddened with the crumpled figures. The woman stood shaking, the look on her face said she debated turning the gun on herself, but instead it clattered to the ground as she fell holding her hands to her face. I left the bedroom scene as it started to morph. The edge of the dreams melted into a pale pink light, misting like blood rain all around. Her orb was more hidden than the others, but after groping for it in the mist a moment, I found it. As I began to siphon the energy, her physical form bolted up right with eyes wide open.
“Who’s there?! Jack, is that you? Are you home?” Panting slightly, she gingerly stepped out of bed. I was partially expelled from her psyche but still connected through her dream which meant she was more likely to know when she saw me. Besides I was tethered to her so I couldn’t easily hide, so I choose to stick to her back, just out of sight.
“I can feel you, show yourself!”
Impossible. Right? I’m not able to touch humans, I usually just pass right through them if we happen to run into each other. Maybe because we are still connected? I need her to fall back asleep before she starts draining my energy instead. With only a tendril still connected, I kept to the shadows as she moved through the house, checking for anyone or anything not supposed to be there.
We are not designed to stay straddled between the physical world and the subconscious mind, so as she pulled me with her, our energy created a spark and like a matchstick the ceiling caught fire. She screamed and ran through the house, my Smokey form trailing behind, and a string of fire that only grew hungrier as we went.
Thunk. Thud. Unconscious, she fell after running head first into the front door. I snapped back into her mind, siphoning every once of energy I could take as quickly as possible and snapped out. The house was fully aflame as I slid under the door.
Chicken Vegetable Soup with Orzo
There’s nothing like a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup, but slowly simmering it for hours on a busy day isn’t always possible. Whether you need a quick meal for a busy weeknight, a soothing remedy for a cold, or just a bowl of cozy goodness and comfort, this Chicken Vegetable Soup with Orzo recipe will have you enjoying delicious chicken soup in no time!
Why This Recipe is a Keeper!
This recipe for Chicken Vegetable Soup evolved over my 22 years as a personal chef. It’s not the traditional long-simmered Polish way to make chicken soup, which is what I grew up on. Instead, it’s a modern take where fresh ingredients meet store-bought convenience, still delivering that cozy, comforting essence.
The traditional way of using a whole chicken or cut-up chicken parts on the bone took a lot of time in my customer’s kitchen, and although I was meticulous in removing the meat, there was always the chance of a small bone being left behind.
This recipe for chicken soup uses quality convenience products and the ease of boneless chicken breasts to achieve a rich taste in a fraction of the time. A generous addition of parsley at the ends adds freshness, vibrant color, and a subtle earthy, herbaceous flavor.
Like my Chicken, Kale, and Orzo Soup, this veggie-packed chicken and orzo soup recipe is:
- Easy! Some chopping and prep are involved, but if your cuts are perfect, don’t worry—this soup is forgiving, and everything will come together beautifully as it cooks.
- Nourishing and wholesome! It is packed with vegetables, lean protein, and a touch of turmeric for another boost of goodness!
- Great for meal prep! Gets even better overnight in the refrigerator and stores beautifully in the freezer for up to three months.
- Versatile! Vary the veggies and change out the orzo for rice, quinoa, lentils, or another pasta shape.
How to Make Chicken and Orzo Soup:
Recipe Ingredients:
Here’s everything you’ll need to make this chicken vegetable soup recipe. The recipe card below has the exact quantities.
Ingredient Notes and Substitutions:
- Chicken Breasts: You can use chicken breasts on the bone for even more flavor or chicken thighs if you prefer dark meat. Another option is to use shredded rotisserie chicken that’s already cooked or other cooked shredded chicken you have on hand.
- Zucchini/Yellow Squash: These mild vegetables enhance the chicken and orzo soup with vibrant color, subtle texture, and satisfying heartiness, all while keeping it light. Their delicate flavor blends seamlessly with the savory broth, adding depth without overwhelming the dish.
- Thyme: I often use dried for convenience, but fresh is always a nice alternative. Tie several sprigs with butcher’s twine and add the whole bunch to the chicken orzo soup. Remove it and toss it into your compost bin when the soup is finished.
- Turmeric: Turmeric adds a bright, vivid color that is perfect for a chicken soup. It adds depth with a mildly bitter, earthy, peppery flavor with notes of ginger and citrus.
- Chicken Base: Better Than Bouillon is a terrific way to add a richer, more robust flavor to soups. I usually use organic, reduced sodium for the best flavor.
- Orzo: Orzo is rice-shaped pasta. Gluten-free orzo is also available. Other pasta shapes that would work well in this chicken orzo soup recipe are egg noodles, broken angel hair pasta, small macaroni, shells, or ditalini. Other substitutes include rice, quinoa, or lentils.
- Chicken Broth: The best chicken broth or stock is one you make yourself. However, that’s not always possible. My favorite all-around chicken broth that’s readily available in most, if not all, grocery stores is Swanson Natural Goodness.
Step-By-Step Instructions:
- Gather and prep all the ingredients.
- Heat oil in a Dutch oven or another large soup pot over medium-high heat.
- Add the onion, carrots, and celery.
- Reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 7-8 minutes or until softened.
- Add the zucchini and yellow squash. Cook for 3-4 minutes or until beginning to soften.
- Add the garlic and stir.
- Add the chicken broth, thyme, turmeric, and halved chicken breasts.
- Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 12 to 15 minutes or until the chicken is cooked.
- Remove the chicken to a bowl and let cool.
- Shred the chicken into bite/spoon-sized pieces when cool enough to handle.
- Add the orzo pasta.
- Continue simmering for 5 minutes or until the orzo is cooked.
- Add the shredded chicken back to the soup and heat through.
- Stir in 1 tablespoon of the chicken base. Taste, and if needed, add another tablespoon.
- Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir in parsley and serve.
- Add lemon juice for a pop of bright flavor.
- Deliciousness done! A hearty yet light and full-flavored homemade chicken vegetable soup!
Chef Tips and Tricks:
- I always cut the four chicken breast halves into eight pieces through the middle widthwise so they cook faster and more evenly.
- You don’t want to add the chicken and orzo simultaneously for food safety reasons. Cook the chicken first, remove it, then add the orzo and simmer for five minutes or until the orzo is al dente. The 12 to 15-minute cooking time is adequate for thoroughly cooking the chicken pieces and making the broth safe for the orzo.
- Wait until the very end before adding salt and pepper. Although I generally prefer salting dishes throughout the cooking process, broth, even reduced-sodium broth, and chicken base can have adequate salt.
Money-Saving Tip:
- Boneless skinless chicken thighs are less per pound. You’ll need eight for this chicken vegetable soup.
Recipe FAQs:
Storage:
- Refrigerate any leftovers of this chicken vegetable orzo soup and enjoy it for up to five days.
- Freeze in containers in the desired quantities for up to three months. Thaw in the refrigerator or microwave and reheat on the stovetop or microwave.
Serve with:
More great soup recipes you’ll love!
- Spicy Peanut Soup with Chicken and Sweet Potatoes
- Sausage Spinach Tortellini Soup
- Hamburger Vegetable Soup
- Chicken Bouillabaisse
Get all my soup recipes at Soups and Stews – From A Chef’s Kitchen.
Chicken Vegetable and Orzo Soup
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons canola oil, or vegetable oil
- 1 large onion, finely chopped
- 3 medium carrots, diced
- 3 stalks celery, diced
- 1 small yellow squash, diced
- 1 small zucchini, diced
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 10 cups chicken broth, (or as needed) preferably reduced sodium or no salt added
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
- 4 boneless skinless chicken breast halves, cut in half widthwise
- 8 ounces orzo pasta, (approximately 1 1/4 cups)
- 1-2 tablespoons chicken base, such as Better Than Bouillon, preferably reduced sodium
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
- 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
- Lemon juice, optional
Instructions
-
Heat oil in a Dutch oven or another large soup pot over medium-high heat.
-
Add the onion, carrots, and celery. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 7-8 minutes or until softened.
-
Add the zucchini and yellow squash. Cook for 3-4 minutes or until beginning to soften.
-
Add the garlic and stir.
-
Add the chicken broth, thyme, turmeric, and halved chicken breasts. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for 12-15 minutes or until the chicken is cooked.
-
Remove the chicken to a bowl and let cool. When cool enough to handle, shred the chicken into bite/spoon-sized pieces.
-
Add the orzo pasta. Continue simmering for 5 minutes or until the orzo is cooked.
-
Add the shredded chicken back to the soup and heat through.
-
Stir in 1 tablespoon of the chicken base. Taste, and if needed, add another tablespoon.
-
Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir in parsley and serve. Add lemon juice for a pop of bright flavor.
Notes
SUBSTITUTIONS:
- You can use chicken breasts on the bone for even more flavor or chicken thighs if you prefer dark meat. Another option is to use shredded rotisserie chicken that’s already cooked or other cooked shredded chicken you have on hand.
- Other pasta shapes that would work well in this chicken orzo soup recipe are egg noodles, broken angel hair pasta, small macaroni, shells, or ditalini. Other substitutes include rice, quinoa, or lentils.
TIPS:
- You don’t want to add the chicken and orzo simultaneously for food safety reasons. Cook the chicken first, remove it, then add the orzo and simmer for five minutes or until the orzo is al dente. The 12 to 15-minute cooking time is adequate for thoroughly cooking the chicken pieces and making the broth safe for the orzo.
- Wait until the very end before adding salt and pepper. Although I generally prefer salting dishes throughout the cooking process, broth, even reduced-sodium broth, and chicken base can have adequate salt.
MAKE AHEAD:
- Cool completely.
- Refrigerate and enjoy it for up to five days.
FREEZER-FRIENDLY:
- Cool completely.
- Freeze in containers in the desired quantities for up to three months.
- Thaw in the refrigerator or microwave and reheat on the stovetop or microwave.
Nutrition
Nutritional values are automatically calculated using unbranded products and are estimates only. Actual results may vary based on ingredients used and portion sizes. Adjust as needed for dietary restrictions, allergies, or health concerns.
Sounds like the USA today
While serving in the Soviet army in the closing days of World War II, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn wrote a letter to a friend, in which he was critical of Josef Stalin and Stalin’s conduct of the war. The letter was discovered by Soviet intelligence authorities and Solzhenitsyn was sentenced to eight years in a work camp. When his term ended, Solzhenitsyn was sent to internal exile in rural Kazakhstan. While there he would experience a philosophical and religious transformation that informed the rest of his life’s work.
In 1956 Solzhenitsyn was released from exile and permitted to return to Moscow, where he taught high school and secretly began writing his novel One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, describing life in a Stalinist work camp. In 1960 Solzhenitsyn risked showing the manuscript to a Soviet editor. Because Khrushchev was attempting to purge the Soviet Union of Stalinism, he personally approved the book’s publication, and it became a smash hit. But Solzhenitsyn didn’t remain long in favor. Subsequent works were prohibited as being “anti-Soviet” and after Khrushchev was removed from power, Solzhenitsyn was deemed a “non-person,” and the KGB raided his home and seized his manuscripts.
During this time, Solzhenitsyn was secretly writing his Gulag Archipelago, a three-volume examination of life in Soviet labor camps, hiding portions of the manuscript at the homes of various friends. In 1973, after the KGB had located and seized one of the three copies of the manuscript, Solzhenitsyn had a microfilmed copy smuggled out of the country and in December it was published in Paris.
The Soviet authorities felt somewhat constrained in what they could do to Solzhenitsyn, who had been awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970 and was an international celebrity. The Politburo considered sentencing him to life in prison but instead deported him to West Germany. Solzhenitsyn made his way to the United States where he lived and worked for almost 20 years. While he praised and admired Western liberty and democratic values, Solzhenitsyn criticized the West for underappreciating, devaluing, and misusing them. He also criticized the West’s cultural weakness and its loss of religious and spiritual grounding.
After the fall of the Soviet Union, Solzhenitsyn returned to Russia, where he was received as a hero. He died in August 2008, at age 89.
Aleksandr Isayevich Solzhenitsyn was born on December 11, 1918, one hundred seven years ago.
“(T)he line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either -- but right through every human heart -- and through all human hearts. This line shifts. Inside us, it oscillates with the years…. If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being.”
20.2K views
Why do some police officers change their behavior when they realize they're dealing with someone in authority? Is this a common practice?
The VIP may suggest (sometimes overtly) that going forward with the enforcement action will have a negative impact on the officer’s career. This is not always an empty threat. Much depends on the moral and professional courage of the police officer’s executive management. Some chiefs and sheriffs will step up to defend their cops as long as they act professionally and within the law, and others will fold up like a Dollar Store lawn chair if a VIP threatens them.
WAR STORY ALERT: I was once called to the scene of a 7–11 on a complaint from the clerk that he had been assaulted. When I pulled up to the store, a man got out of the sedan he had been driving and stormed toward my patrol car angrily. I was about halfway out of the holster and telling the man to stop where he was when he got a little smarter and complied. He was the assailant. The clerk was dating his daughter (age 22), and the man did not approve of the relationship. He came to the 7–11 to tell the clerk to leave his daughter alone, and when the clerk did not immediately acquiesce, the man grabbed him and pulled him over the counter while making threats of bodily harm.
The man turned out to be (actually, he told me almost immediately) the county undersheriff, the second-in-command of the county sheriff’s office. He started to order me to do this and that, but when he paused, I told him, “Undersheriff, my uniform is blue, not green. I don’t work for you.” This made him even more upset.
I was ready to collect a signed complaint from the clerk and arrest the undersheriff, but I had a logistical problem. Under Nevada law, a sheriff or undersheriff cannot be booked into their own jail. I would have to transport the assailant to Virginia City or Carson City to book him into the Storey County or Carson City jail. My dilemma was resolved when one of our spineless lieutenants showed up and told me to take a crime report and submit the incident for an arrest warrant.
When I explained what would happen to the undersheriff, he told me definitively that he would visit the district attorney (referencing him by name) in the morning and have the entire case dismissed. He was more upset when I told him our misdemeanor cases went through the city attorney’s office, where he had no connections. Meanwhile, a sheriff’s office sergeant had appeared on scene. All I got out of his conversation with the undersheriff were a bunch of “yessirs.”
Although I had no further involvement with the case, an arrest warrant was issued, the undersheriff was booked in the most private way possible and immediately released on his own recognizance, and was allowed to appear in the chambers of the judge to answer to the charge (try and get that sort of deal for yourself). He pleaded guilty and was given a fine. He also resigned from the sheriff’s office “for personal reasons,” ending a 30+ year career. The incident never made the papers.
That case could have had major political repercussions for me, but my chief already hated me and it didn’t make much difference.