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Like, totally, man. It’s not about the clothes you wear; it’s about the love you share

○ When you share your story with a loved one and in the end they declare you the villain in it.

○ When your happiness is a tiny little object of ignorance infront of the society’s big, baseless barriers.

○ When doing what you love makes you the culprit of tarnishing your family’s image.

○ When you pour your heart out to someone, and instead of floating with you in the sea of emotions, they leave you to drown in it alone.

○ When a little act of yours is blown out of proportion in an unimaginable, distorted way.

○ When people choose to see the evil side of yours, ignoring the sunny side.

○ When you are controlled and dictated by your family instead of being liberated.

○ When sharing secrets makes you a laughingstock.

○ When you expect that others will understand you and they simply don’t.

○ When you know you are not wrong yet people criminalize your innocent acts.

Let’s mend hearts, not break them!

~ Be bubbly.

Star Trek – Warp 5 Engine

Yes they do … but will , very seldom , understand that you are smarter.

They will see you as weird and excentrique. Good results will be attributed to luck or hard work when it is obvious.

And decisions you took that is out of their reach will be looked at weird, crazy, not normal stuff.

I am polymath , talk fluently 6 languages, was very good in fighting sports, was systematicaly outperforming markets as analyst and fund manager, created my position as financial analyst while not having gone to the university and having actualy been a drop out at school, created a technique to educate dogs from scratch, created ways to enhance IQ, Created my company from scrach … all was put in place by me to obtain a sophisticated small company … with very little financial results so far … but it will come. i have advanced knowledge and understanding of the spiritual and mental realm, i am a mystical person. A visionaire as well .. i see what things will become.

Nobody sees it as above average IQ product.

I started saying that i had a IQ problem … to justify my weirdness.

In the past, i would hide all my thoughts and skills.

Above average IQ is not a walk in the park ! it is heavy and when you are poorly surounded … you will be very lonely and your creativty will be appreciated by you …almost exclusively.

People want normal people around them … and reject what is different. Therefore you develop good sense of humor, learn to defend yourself, and try to adjust so as to be unseen. Until you go for your comming out … . (i was 53 yrs old …. now i am 59 !!)

Blond Texas Sheet Cake with
Caramel-Pecan Frosting

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ce53afb995090f2de6af0747f93cc11f

Ingredients

Cake

  • 1 (18.25 ounce) box white cake mix*
  • 1 cup buttermilk
  • 1/3 cup butter, melted
  • 4 egg whites
  • 1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Frosting

  • 1 cup chopped pecans
  • 1/2 cup butter
  • 1 cup light brown sugar
  • 1/3 cup buttermilk
  • 2 cups confectioners’ sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Instructions

  1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

Cake

  1. Beat the cake mix, buttermilk, butter, egg whites and almond extract together with an electric mixer at low speed for 2 minutes or until blended. Pour batter into a 15 x 10 inch jellyroll pan.
  2. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 2 hours.

Frosting

  1. Place chopped pecans in a single layer in a shallow pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 6 minutes or until lightly toasted.
  2. Bring butter and brown sugar to a boil in a 3 1/2 quart saucepan over medium heat, whisking constantly, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and slowly whisk in buttermilk.
  3. Return mixture to heat and bring to a boil. Pour into bowl of a heavy-duty stand mixer. Gradually add powdered sugar and vanilla and almond extracts, beating at medium-high speed until smooth. Stir in pecans.
  4. Pour immediately over cooled cake in pan and spread quickly to cover cake.

Notes

* 18.25 ounce boxes of cake mix have been replaced by 16.5 ounce and 15.25 ounce boxes. To compensate for the volume loss in a 16 ounce box, whisk 6 tablespoons all-purpose flour into the dry cake mix before proceeding with the recipe. To compensate for the volume loss in a 15.25 ounce box, add 1/2 cup + 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour and 1/4 teaspoon baking powder.

American perceptions of China have been based on both racism and the simple fact that China that existed during our lifetimes was poor and powerless (I was born in 1951). Things have changed but cultural perceptions take decades to change. China is a large mostly modern country but it still hasn’t integrated the rural poor into industrial living.

US perceptions of most foreign countries are off usually by a few decades, China isn’t alone. The language barrier means that few of us learn much about China. Even learning the language doesn’t mean one will learn the culture.

Yes, when I checked in, I was delighted to see that I had (apparently) been upgraded to first class. When I got to the seat, though, someone was in it. Her boarding pass also had the same seat number as mine. Not only that, but she had the exact same first and last names as mine. The agent who had issued my boarding pass had made a mistake and gave me a boarding pass for her seat. That was disappointing, but it was clearly her seat. Everyone had a nice chuckle, including the pilot, and I went back to coach to sit in my correct seat. They did give me a glass of wine, though.

I’m English, visiting Nevada with my husband and it’s the 4th July , American Independence ( from UK) day. We are chatting to third grade school teacher, as the conversation ends he wishes us a Happy Fourth of July, I answer with “To you too”

He then asks if we celebrate it in the UK…….

Trying not to laugh the best I can manage is “No, we lost.”.

His response “Lost what?”

It took us a fair while to compose ourselves after that.

You have a highly distorted understanding of the economy, retail and buying power here in China. Are you aware that over 80% of what Wal-Mart in the USA buys for customers is actually made in China?

Chinese megamarkets like Wal-Mart, Costco, Sam’s Club must compete with innovative and customer-friendly megamarts like YH and others that not only provide better service but at prices that undercut their American and European competitors.

In addition, are you aware that Chinese do not pay income taxes or property taxes.

Mortgage rates offered by state-owned banks are significantly lower than in the USA. Chinese spend far less on healthcare as healthcare is provided at very low cost and is available to everyone.

A doctor’s visit often cost less than $10 and medications cost 10% or less what Americans pay.

Yes, paychecks are less but so much more money in China is spent of public goods i.e. high speed trains, subways, electric buses, libraries, parks, street cleaning, public space landscaping, waste management and there is no privatization of water or electricity, taking profit generation out of vital human services.

One can live a solid middle class existence on $25,000 annually in all but the expensive first tier cities of Beijing, Shanghai, Shenzhen and Guangzhou. Food costs here are a fraction of what they are in the USA.

Real estate costs are way down as there is a glut of apartments after the real estate bubble burst a couple of years ago.

Despite having smaller paychecks compared to some in the USA, Chinese people are generally hardworking but also quite frugal and save a far greater portion of their earnings compared to Americans.

They make much less use of credit cards and are less addicted to rampant consumerism despite the previous temporary obsession with luxury coming out of a period of massive poverty

Memory on Trial

Submitted into Contest #289 in response to: Start your story with the lines: “The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.” view prompt

Caroline Taglioli

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Walls painfully white with cream carpeted floors; a lone seascape on the far wall is likely meant to be comforting, but to me evokes only the mystery, the great black unknown depths. And whatever monsters lurk there.The ocean. Have I seen the ocean? I can’t pinpoint a specific experience, but I know what the ocean is like. I know what it’s like to squish wet sand between your toes, surf encircling your ankles, while the sun does its best work creating new freckles on your already stained shoulders.I had to have been wearing a swimsuit- was it red? It could just as easily been black, red seems ostentatious. Black, yes, it was black, braided hair, my style. And in an instant I could smell the salt on the air coming off the waves of the…the…Damn it, what ocean was it? What’s any ocean? How many are there? Seven feels at once too much and not enough. Maybe,The double doors to my right burst open interrupting my consternation and I realize I am reclined in bed.“How are we feeling this morning?” A chipper woman with bright red lips and a little metal name tag with “Dr. Faruque” pinned to her pocket simultaneously snaps on a pair of rubber gloves and flips open a Manila folder. This woman commands the room and I am in her care.A hospital, of course, I must have just had an accident which is a great explanation for why I can’t remember my name. And Dr. Faruque is right, there are dim rays of morning light seeping through the beige curtain of the far window. Was I at the beach when I had my accident? Is that why I was thinking of oceans? That’s why my lungs feel heavy and my mind is muddled. Did I drown? 

“Will I be ok?”

 

Pathetically, the only thing I can think to tell the doctor and I am astonished at the sound of my own voice. I’ve never heard it before. It’s whinier and girlier than I would like.

 

Dr. Faruque throws her head back and laughs. “Yes, of course, you’ll be fine. And you asked me that yesterday.” She raises an eyebrow as if in reproof. Great, I’m already getting a B minus in being a patient.

 

“Sorry?”

 

She chuckles again. “Don’t worry, that’s actually a great sign. It means the trial is working.” She clocks the next question on my lips as she double clicks her pen and gently encircles my wrist with her other gloved hand. “Remember, we don’t ask about the trial.”

 

My stomach churns. I don’t remember the trial, but my body must. My muscles tense and I feel unnaturally sore at the elbow.

 

“Finger.”

 

“What?”

 

“For your vitals.”

 

“Oh.”

 

I limply hold up my hand in an ET salute. ET. That’s what I remember. A battery of tests follow, all more invasive and disconcerting than the last. Breath tests, a blood draw, a urine sample.

 

“Now, before your injection, I have a few questions for you.”

 

“Injection?”

 

Her eyes were hazel before, I could have sworn. But as her eyes fix on mine for the first time that I can remember, her pupils are fully dilated, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

“This is the last time I will remind you not to ask about the trial.”

 

I gulp and stare at my feet.

 

The doctor grunts and monotonously recites questions from her clipboard, her tone annoyed.

 

“What is your address?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“What is your cockatiel’s name?”

 

“I have a…why a cockatiel?”

 

“What did Jack say to you on the third of November outside the Department of Motor Vehicles?”

 

“Doctor, I don’t even know what today is- do I have any family here that can help me?”

 

“We are officially terminating this round as you seem to be unable to restrain yourself from endangering the results of the trial.”

 

She snaps her folder shut. Tears well up in my eyes and my hands tighten to fists.

 

“Please, just let me go home!”

 

“I thought you didn’t know your home? You said you don’t know your address. At least, that’s what you told us.” Her eyes narrow to slits and I realize her gloved hand is back on my wrist, wrenching it tighter and tighter. Her voice softens to a whisper. “If you’re lying this could seriously disrupt the results of the trial. You don’t want to disrupt the trial, do you?”

 

“No, no I just…”

 

“It’s time for your injection.”

 

Dr. Faruque lifts a needle from the pocket of her lab coat, I remember enough that that’s not where sterile needles should come from. Before I can release the yelp that’s rising from my chest, she has stuck my arm.

 

“Goodnight.”

 

Her clipboard grasped in both hands is raised high above my head.

 

I scream. I flinch.

 

Black.

 

 

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.

 

The double doors ease open and a squirrelly man with metal framed glasses peeks in. “May I?”

 

“May…yes?”

 

He steps further in and Dr. Fuciareli’s small metal name plate is clipped to the pocket of a white jacket. A doctor. A hospital. Of course. I breathe a sigh of relief now given some context even though Dr. Fuciareli’s presence isn’t particularly settling.

 

“We need to do some tests on your memory.”

 

Dr. Fuciareli grips the clipboard as if wringing out a wet sponge. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and shifts his gaze constantly from his watch to the door as if waiting and hoping for an interruption. They made this guy a doctor? He rocks on his heels and squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain.

 

“We NEED to do some tests on your memory, do you consent?”

 

“Sure?”

 

“I need something a little more affirmative to begin.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good.”

 

His eyes snap open, he is ready to get to work. A deep sigh brings Dr. Fuciareli closer to my bed. I lift my finger. This only makes my nervous doctor look even more unnerved. He looks down, then up, down then up.

 

“What’s that for?”

 

“Oh, um…I…reflex I guess.”

 

I shrug and rest my hand back on the knitted blanket. Dr. Fuciareli worriedly scribbles on his clipboard shaking his head to himself.

 

“They told me it wouldn’t matter, they told me it was a blank slate…”

 

He’s mumbling under his breath with disdain.

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

“NO, no questions!!”

 

I startle and sink back into the sheets. He lowers his voice but all the malice remains.

 

“You cannot ask me questions, I cannot be asked questions today, I will not be party to the disruption of the trial.”

 

I’m feeling guilty for causing so much turmoil in the mind of this doctor. He begins a litany of tests. A breath test, a blood draw, a urine sample.

 

Throughout, I try to ease his anxiety, make simple conversation.

 

“That’s an interesting art piece.”

 

I indicate by nodding my head in the direction of the painting on the wall since my arm is occupied with a needle.

 

“I’ve always like that one.”

 

Shockingly, he cracks a half smile.

 

“It always reminded me of the ocean.”

 

The ocean. Hmm. I could see that I guess. But the swirls of blue and green are too abstract to correspond to anything literal.

 

Dr. Fuciareli’s words have stirred something in the back of my mind. The call of a seagull, I remember what that sounds like. Wind pushing strands of hair in your face you have to open your mouth to release. The general vulnerability of standing in public in a swimsuit. Maybe that part was unique to me.

 

So lost in my head, I looked up to find the doctor staring at my face, looking as if he were trying to read my thoughts. If he were more warm maybe I would have let him see in, but from the jump he set me on edge, and now I understood even more why. His pupils were fully dilated.

 

Fuciareli looks back down at his hands and nods lightly to himself as if convincing himself that everything would be alright.

 

After a soft pat on my hand he turns to leave the room. I soften. He’s halfway to the door.

 

“Thank you, Dr. Faruque.”

 

He halts. His shoulders are up to his ears. Without turning he whispers.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I said…I said, thank you.”

 

He looks near to tears as he suddenly and hurriedly turns and strides back to my bedside, mumbling erratically.

 

“I didn’t want to do it, I said I didn’t want to do it, you just wouldn’t cooperate; I won’t be held responsible…”

 

All this and more as he pulls a needle from his coat pocket.

 

“Wait, this time I’ll be better, this time I’ll remember!”

 

I try to scoot my body back in the bed, but there is nowhere to go and my body feels heavy like a stone.

 

Finally, I remembered. The Atlantic. That’s what it was called.

 

A brief surge of euphoria before the tunnel vision descends. I’ve been here before.

 

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.

Tech covers every aspect of modern life. There are therefore no shortage of opportunities and competition. Particular to China vs US and the West, the competition will intensify. China’s development is unstoppable.

One trend will be the realization that blocking-off tech access to China is futile. Another one will be China’s lead in green tech will widen and deepen. The third one is that China could advance faster in the new tech. This is the trend. Some aspects of it could become evident this year.

On legacy chips, China’s capacity has risen to 35% of the global total. It was a great vote of confidence that Ren Zhengfei was able to report to President Xi Jinping at his meeting with the tech leaders, that China is no longer vulnerable to chips supply.

On green tech, advances cover the entire spectrum, such as the pebble-ball meltdown-proof nuclear reactor that has already gone through full-scale test, wind turbines that can sail out into the sea to catch the stronger wind, and the rapid developments, EVs, batteries, and solar panels – in features, efficiencies, and efficacies.

DeepSeek changed the game for OpenAI, that efficient algorithm and innovation can overcome powerful chips. Its open-source R1 democratizes AI. Huawei’s Ascent 910C gives Nvidia’s H100 GPUs a run for the money, its yield has doubled to 40% and progressing to the industry average of 60%. Ascend 920 due out next year will compete with Nvidia’s Blackwell, its latest chip. It will ride on the yield achieved by 910.

And there is Manus, the world’s first fully autonomous AI agent, able to initiate and complete tasks without explicit human input, can work asynchronously and reports to the users only when the results are ready without constant human supervision.

Peking University and Beijing University of Posts & Telecommunications jointly unveiled a carbon nanotube (CNT) transistor chip that processes data not just in ones and zeros, but also a third state, a novel ternary system, enabling computations to occur faster and with less energy.

A new EUV machine that employs laser-induced discharge plasma (LDP) is being tested at Huawei’s Dongguan facility. Trial production could start in 3Q25, and mass production could commence next year in 2026.

Chinese scientists unveiled a superconducting quantum computer prototype named “Zuchongzhi 3.0”, marking a breakthrough in quantum computing.

Robotics has moved from factory system to robotic dog, to humanoid robots, that can dance and climb walls, to entertainment, policing and surveillance, and healthcare services. Drones are increasingly versatile, useable for civilian and military purposes.

Then there is drug maker Akeso, whose new lung cancer drug has outperformed a leading western peer in clinical studies. It allowed half of its patients to go 11.1 months in the phase 3 clinical trial, without their condition worsening, compared with 5.8 months for Keytruda, the popular drug sold by Merck.

The information here are quick and easy picks from Quora, not from any serious studies. They give me the layman’s perspective of the rapid and extensive advance of China’s tech. Many of them are already being piloted or in use. The trend of its advancement is clear, but I cannot say if 2025 will be a breakout year.

I Bought A Cheap Chinese CNC Machine … Worth IT?

Extremely unlikely, but not impossible. Imagine a scenario where Mexico came under the spell of a foreign power and the US imposed crippling sanctions on it, to the point where war was an option.

The border is long, and the US can’t even keep out migrants travelling on foot, so what would happen when armoured divisions supported by 100,000 troops and air support went for it?

I realise trump’s wall would be a formidably obstacle for several minutes, but Texas and a couple of other states would be occupied very quickly. “Yeah, but we have guns” is not an argument, soldiers have guns too, and attack helicopters, drones, missiles, tanks and artillery.

A few public executions of those who continued to fight, and it would all be over. A far better option would be to stop pissing off your allies in the first place.

When I was 14 or 15, I had a “friend” (I’m using that word very loosely) who asked if my niece and I could walk with her to meet her boyfriend down the street. I said yes. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, so I figured we could catch up a bit. So we started walking with her, and when we reached the meeting point, she said, “Not yet, it’s just past that park,” so we kept walking. When we reached the next point, she said, “Well, we’re almost to his house now, so while we’re at it, walk me there.”

At this point I started to get a little annoyed. When we entered the street of her boyfriend’s house, we finally met him, but lo and behold, as soon as he saw us, he quickly turned around to go into his house. It was definitely bizarre.

Once we reached his door, he asked all three of us to come in. I said no, I had only agreed to accompany my friend and I was with my youngest niece who was only 10 years old at the time. This went on for about 15 minutes, during which time the boy did nothing but try to convince us to come into the house. My niece started to cry, so I told them we were leaving. He continued to insist and at a certain point I saw that the curtain of the window of his main room was opening slightly, there were about 15 adult men who seemed to be waiting. Three of them were near the door and listening to what was happening.

I can’t say for sure that they were there for some shady reason and that’s not what I’m trying to imply with this response, however, considering that the guy was also suggesting that we go sit upstairs in a locked bedroom while we waited for my friend, it all seemed a bit suspicious to me. Anyway, as I was leaving both the guy and my “friend” got really angry with us and even yelled at us. Needless to say, we are no longer friends.

China is not interested in military conquest; it wants to become the leading- and most cost-efficient manufacturing and technology center for the world.

From China’s perspective, this is a winning formula, and it would be very difficult for any other economy, including the US’s, to compete with China.

Russia does not have the economic width and depth to support overseas military conquest, which is very expensive and costly to any society. Instead, Russia wants to leverage its tremendous natural resource exports to develop its own economy and society.

From the Russian perspective, the Ukraine war was to prevent having another NATO member with NATO military bases positioned on Russia’s western borders, and threatening Russia economically and politically.

Military conquests are tremendously expensive and usually fail, dragging the occupier’s economy down with it.

The US is now learning that huge defense costs are unbearable for the US economy, which is why President Trump wants to negotiate a cut in defense spending with China and Russia.

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Years ago I went to a wedding with an ex, she and her friends (bride included) were all nurses, physicians, and EMTs. During the reception the bride’s uncle had a heart attack while dancing, stiffened up like a board and fell flat to the ground. In less than 5 seconds, her and her friends were doing chest compressions and tearing his shirt off. Someone else tracked down the defibrillator – in doing so they discovered that the adult pads were previously used and never replaced. They prepared the child sized pads, placed them, and with the whole party watching closely, zapped this man until they brought him back to life.

Tragedy with a happy ending. Lesson learned – always invite some medical people to your wedding 😉

Abduction

Submitted into Contest #289 in response to: Start your story with the lines: “The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here.” view prompt

Taylor Jester

The room is unfamiliar. I don’t know how I got here. Around me are items I have only seen in Star Trek. Glowing lights, science equipment ranging from tools to graphs on the walls, jars full of liquid, and four large, cushioned chairs. Surely this is a dream…a bad dream. Like many of the dreams I have had before that feel so real, but I wake up safe in my bed gasping for air, pellets dripping down my forehead, and heart racing…but safe.Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!This time that did not work. I try and sit up only to find that my body is heavy, and I am unable to move. I can move my head, I can move my eyes, but my body…it does not work here. My arms remain by my side, and I cannot feel my legs. I muster up enough strength to turn my head enough where I can make out three faint figures. They don’t look like little green men or monsters like I was expecting. They are…human? One is a small woman with long hair and the other two are men a tall lanky man, and a shorter stocky one. Why are there only three people, but four chairs…who is the fourth chair for? I wondered anxiously moving my eyes to try and find the missing figure.”The medicine will wear off soon we have to take her back to the earthly haven”. The woman whispered to the taller man.”We have not finished the procedure yet! She is not ready to be returned we must complete the trial.” He hissed back at her with urgency in his voice.”She must be returned! She can’t know about this, or it will all be over….we will be over!” The woman pleaded a hint of sadness in her voice.I tried to hear more, but they moved too far away for me to make anything else out. I must be the “she” that they are referring to…but…procedure? What is going on? Where am I? Why can I not move? I try to focus my eyes to see them, but they have moved out of sight. I can slightly make out the chart they were all looking at before. It was of a body…my body. They have circled my legs in red letters I could make out the words “not adapting must correct”.What do they mean not adapting? My legs work just fine…or they did before I was brought here. Wherever here is.I try again to sit up a thousand-pound weight still keeping me glued to this…bed? Wait why am I on a bed? I look around again at the room. It is futuristic but observing it further it looks like a bedroom. It feels familiar in a way like I have been here before. The glowing lights are on a machine attached to me monitoring my levels like I am in a hospital. I can hear it now the beeping of the monitor measuring my heartrate. It was getting faster, louder. I try to find anything that can give me a clue as to where I am. The posters and graphs on the wall show a constellation, but not one I recognize. It was not of my world…at least not the world as I know it. I remember the figure saying “earthly haven”…. does that mean this is not Earth… There is a frame of 4 people, but I cannot make out who they are only that there are 2 men and 2 women. I try to lift myself to sit up and am able to get slightly off of the soft surface underneath me. There was a large window that showed scenery that I was sure doesn’t exist in real life. Fluorescent pink trees, a bright orange sky, and royal blue flowers as far as I can see. It looked peaceful, but I could not shake this feeling of dread. This feeling that something was not quite right. My body begins to shake aggressively. I am too weak my arms buckle underneath me, and my body drops back down with a thud.”Did you hear that?” One of the figures asked turning my way. “She’s looking at us…she’s awake” It’s the shorter man…who now I see is not a man at all. He is a boy. A boy who doesn’t look much older than me and sounds scared.”No, that is impossible! The sedative should still be in full effect!” The tall man exclaimed.”Maybe we gave her too much too many times…she has built a tolerance.” The woman worriedly blurted out.

“Impossible…we have to complete the procedure!” The tall man hissed.

Help…

“Help me” I was able to whisper just loud enough for them to hear, though I was hoping that anyone else could hear me. Could rescue me. The figures dropped what they were holding making a loud clinking noise on the floor. It was tools…they were holding long silver tools. The clinking rang through the air filling the deafening silence.

The figures stepped closer into view. The woman led the way slowly. Finally, I could make her out. I could see every feature she has. Her almond shaped eyes, her freckles, and her long auburn hair…I could even smell her now. The same familiar flowery scent I’ve been smelling my whole life…

Mom?!”

I’m sorry…this is for your own good. For all of us to survive.” The woman whispered. I could see her legs now…they weren’t touching the ground they hovered and had a glow underneath them. Like a fire radiating out of her heels. I felt a sudden sharp stinging in my arm. The woman started to fade away all I noticed was a tear welling in her eyes. Those familiar eyes.

 

Suddenly, the world went dark again. I woke up in my bed gasping for air, pellets dripping down my forehead, and heart racing…but safe?

In Chinese elementary schools, the election of class cadres is a very serious and democratic process that every Chinese person experiences in this way:

Counting of voters, election of scrutineers, counting of votes, and singing of ballots.

In fact, this kind of “democracy” needs to be put in quotation marks, and those elected are the students favored by the teachers. It is impossible for a student who is not favored by the teacher to be elected.

The same is true of the electoral system in capitalist countries. A person who is not favored by the capitalist consortium cannot be elected, and is not even eligible to be nominated.

You have been playing this game since childhood. Aren’t you tired of it yet?

When an Armor captain in West Germany, I was surprised to receive orders appointing me as Special Court Martial Trial Counsel (prosecutor). At that time, normally lieutenants were appointed to Special Court Martial duties. By this time in service, I had served as Defense Counsel and Trial Counsel. Ten defense cases were simple AWOLS resulting in guilty findings. My 11th defense resulted in a Not Guilty verdict in a barracks theft case. That quickly set the GI grapevine in motion (it earned me a reputation as an Olive Drab Clarence Darrow). In quick succession, I was requested to be Defense Counsel in two elimination Board hearings. I won these hands down. One reason, the rules of evidence were relaxed from Court Martials and leading questions were permissible. These victories made me very unpopular with battalion company commanders. The battalion adjutant finally got smart. Suddenly I could no longer be made available by reason of “Exigencies of the Service.” This was a legal term permitted by the Manual for Court Martial. In less than three weeks, new court martial orders were published appointing me Trial Counsel. Afterwards, I prosecuted some 21 cases successfully.

Apparently, proven legal expertise was the reason for my special appointment. BTW because of the nature of the case, I received a lot of coaching from the Division JAG Section.

Back to the unusual case. In short order, I learned I had been selected to prosecute a special case—one having political significance. It seems an individual in a sister mechanized infantry battalion had gone AWOL for nine months and this constituted Desertion. But… it was a complicated case. Formerly, he had been an NCO authorized government quarters. After several legal actions he was reduced in grade and was no longer eligible for government quarters. His unit departed for semi-annual training at Grafenwöhr but he was left behind with the Rear Detachment to clear government quarters. He left the Kaserne for the purpose of clearing quarters and moving his family onto the German economy. While doing so, he went astray and started driving up Bundestrasse (highway) 40 towards Fulda on the East German border. He and a buddy stopped every so often at German Gasthauses to drink and buy German beer. Clearly, they were inebriated.

Eventually, they ended up at the border east of Fulda and backed the Mercedes up to the plowed strip. The individual kept yelling towards the East German Border Police and took a snap cap beer bottle, placing it on a mound of dirt as a gift, of sorts. His buddy needed another beer so sat in the driver’s seat a moment. He heard yelling and looked back through the gap between the trunk lid and back deck to see five border police marching his friend into East Germany at bayonet point—like spokes of a wheel.

Nine months later, the accused was turned over to US Military Police at Check Point Charlie in Berlin. He was immediately incarcerated and debriefed in depth by Military Intelligence. Their report was highly classified. From it, it was learned that he had been imprisoned by the Russians at a location believed to be in Western Russia. Much was learned by determining the thrust of Russian interrogation. Since it was classified, I could not use the information in prosecuting the individual. It proved unnecessary.

There were a number of things making it an unusual case. First, the US did not recognize the East German Government; Second, he had initially been on an authorized absence but at some indeterminant point in time was no longer on authorized absence; Third, he was actually a deserter under the military law; Fourth, the powers-to-be (on legal advice) decided to forego Desertion for a charge of AWOL—with immediate elimination from the service; and, Fifth, the Russians had made his capture a political victory during the Cold War.

His trial quickly produced a finding of Guilty On All Charges and Specifications, the record of trial was completed in record time, he was boarded out of the Army and was escorted to a troop ship at Bremerhaven in a little over two weeks. GEW, Col, USA, (Ret).

Sir Whiskerton and the Hench-Animal Makeover: A Tale of Fashion, Fumbles, and Farmyard Folly

Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale so stylish, so brimming with wit and whimsy, that even the most fashion-forward of barnyard animals might blush at the audacity. Today’s story is one of makeovers, mishaps, and one cow’s quest to help two hench-animals find their inner fabulousness. So, grab your sewing kit and a sense of humor, as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Hench-Animal Makeover: A Tale of Fashion, Fumbles, and Farmyard Folly.


The Hench-Animal Identity Crisis

It was a quiet afternoon on the farm, the kind of day where the sun hung lazily in the sky, and the animals lounged about, enjoying the simple pleasures of life. Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s self-appointed detective and philosopher, was perched on his favorite sunbeam, pondering the mysteries of the universe—or at least why the farmer insisted on wearing overalls with one strap perpetually undone.

“Perhaps,” Sir Whiskerton mused aloud, “the farmer is making a bold statement about the futility of fasteners. Or perhaps he’s just bad at dressing himself.”

“Dressing himself!” echoed Ditto, the ever-enthusiastic kitten, who had taken to repeating Sir Whiskerton’s words with the precision of a broken zipper.

But the tranquility was shattered when Squeakers the Rat and Ratticus the Mongolian Rat, Catnip’s bumbling hench-animals, shuffled into the barnyard, looking unusually glum.

“What’s the matter, you two?” Sir Whiskerton asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did Catnip run out of cheese-based bribes?”

Squeakers sighed, twirling his tail nervously. “It’s not that, Sir Whiskerton. It’s just… we’re tired of being seen as the bad guys. We want a new image.”

“Yeah,” Ratticus grunted, flexing his muscles. “We’re more than just hench-animals. We’re… uh… hench-animals with potential.”

“Potential!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed more interested in chasing a loose thread on Ratticus’s fur.

Sir Whiskerton stroked his chin thoughtfully. “A new image, you say? Well, if anyone can help you with that, it’s Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow. She’s the farm’s resident fashionista and unofficial therapist.”


The Makeover Begins

Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow was thrilled at the prospect of a makeover. “Like, totally groovy, man,” she said, her mood ring glowing a vibrant shade of purple. “We’re gonna turn you two into the most far-out, peace-loving, fashion-forward rodents this farm has ever seen.”

“Fashion-forward!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed to be trying to tie-dye his own tail with a nearby puddle.

Bessie’s first order of business was to assess Squeakers and Ratticus’s current style. “Okay, Squeakers,” she said, examining the rat’s scruffy fur and mismatched accessories. “You’ve got a kind of… post-apocalyptic scavenger vibe going on. It’s edgy, but it’s not exactly sending the right message.”

“And Ratticus,” she continued, turning to the hulking Mongolian rat, “you’ve got the whole ‘intimidating muscle-bound henchman’ thing down, but it’s a bit one-note. Let’s soften you up a little.”

The makeover began with a trip to the farm’s “Disneyland of Debris,” a peculiar place where discarded human items became fashion treasures. Bessie rummaged through the piles, pulling out everything from sequined scarves to feather boas.

“This,” she said, holding up a pair of oversized sunglasses, “is going to change your life.”


Fashion Mishaps and Mayhem

The first attempt at a makeover was… well, let’s just say it didn’t go as planned. Squeakers emerged from Bessie’s makeshift salon wearing a sequined cape, a top hat, and a monocle that kept falling off. “I feel ridiculous,” he muttered, trying to balance the hat on his head.

“Ridiculous!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed to be trying to wear the cape himself.

Ratticus, meanwhile, was squeezed into a floral sundress that was several sizes too small. “I look like a giant daisy,” he grumbled, flexing his arms and causing the seams to burst.

“Daisy!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed to be trying to eat the flowers off the dress.

Bessie frowned, her mood ring shifting to a concerned shade of yellow. “Hmm. Maybe we went a little too far. Let’s try something more… you.”

The second attempt was more successful. Squeakers was outfitted in a sleek leather jacket (made from an old saddle) and a pair of aviator goggles, giving him a daring, adventurous look. Ratticus, meanwhile, was given a rugged denim vest (courtesy of the farmer’s discarded overalls) and a bandana, softening his intimidating appearance without sacrificing his tough-guy vibe.

“Now this is more like it,” Squeakers said, striking a pose.

“Like it!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed to be trying to climb into the leather jacket.


The Moral of the Story

As the makeover came to an end, Sir Whiskerton gathered the animals for a moment of reflection. “Today,” he said, “we’ve learned that true confidence comes from within, not from appearances. Squeakers and Ratticus may look different, but what really matters is how they see themselves—and how they choose to act.”

Bessie nodded, her mood ring glowing a peaceful shade of green. “Like, totally, man. It’s not about the clothes you wear; it’s about the love you share.”

“Love you share!” Ditto echoed, though he seemed to be trying to share a piece of straw with Ratticus.

Squeakers and Ratticus looked at each other, then at their new outfits. “You know,” Squeakers said, “I think I finally feel like… me.”

“Yeah,” Ratticus agreed, flexing his muscles. “And if anyone has a problem with that, they’ll have to deal with this.” He struck a pose, causing the denim vest to strain at the seams.


A Happy Ending

With their new looks and newfound confidence, Squeakers and Ratticus returned to their duties—though they were a little less hench-like and a little more fabulous. Catnip, though initially confused by their transformation, couldn’t help but admire their style. “Well,” he said, twirling his tail, “I suppose even hench-animals deserve a little glamour.”

Sir Whiskerton returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day. The farm was at peace, the air was filled with the sound of Ditto’s enthusiastic echoes, and all was right in the world.

And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new challenges, and hopefully, no more fashion-related mishaps. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of feline genius.

The End.

TL/DR; I signed an affidavit, waited for it to come, sold it, and paid a lot in taxes.

In December of 2000 I bought a used Miata from a Hyundai dealership. As we were wrapping up the sale, the salesman informed me that he had entered my name in a promotional sweepstakes that Hyundai was running at the time (I believe it was called “Team Match.” It was golf themed.) I was a little bit annoyed the salesman had done this without my permission, believing I would end up on numerous mailing lists.

About 7 weeks later, I got a letter all right. It was basically the exact opposite of the old Publishers Clearinghouse Sweepstakes that used to come in the mail: nothing garish or flashy about it. In fact, it came in a plain white #10 envelope. There was a single page informing me that if I was over 18 (or possibly 21) and neither I nor my immediate family was an employee of Hyundai of America, I was the grand prize winner of the sweepstakes into which I had been entered weeks before, and I would be receiving a 2001 Hyundai XG300L valued at $25,000 (the value was included in the letter) which was the nicest car Hyundai made at that time.

I mailed back the affidavit and went to the dealership where I selected the color (silver) and trim level (L – the higher of the two available) and was told it would take about 6 months for the car to be shipped from Korea. I believe it had to go to Long Beach, CA and then get trucked up to Eugene, OR where I was living.

That gave me plenty of time to decide what I was going to do. I already had 2 cars: a 1989 Ford Taurus SHO of which I was quite fond, and the 1996 Miata that had led to me winning the Hyundai into the first place. Keeping the Hyundai and selling the other 2 cars to pay the taxes on it crossed my mind. I’d have a paid for new car with the ridiculous 10 year warranty that was newly available then (and was basically the only reason people bought Hyundais in the early 2000s.)

But I was also a single guy in my mid 20s living in an apartment. Having the equivalent of a brand new Korean Buick seemed counter to my goals at the time.

I considered seeing if I could trade the XG300 for the newly introduced Santa Fe SUV, but I think it would have been a losing deal or more money for me. I had fun test driving barely used Miatas and well used Porsches with the idea that I could keep the Taurus for my daily driver and upgrade the “fun” car – the 5 year old Miata + the new Hyundai into a more fun second car. I brought the letter from Hyundai to the dealerships to show I was serious about buying a used 911 Porsche and not just some kid out for a joyride, and that had the desired “take all the time you need” effect and first class treatment. In typing this, I realize my situation would be incredibly easy to fake with any computer printer and a rehearsed delivery.

In the end, sensibility won out. I took delivery of my Hyundai in June, 5 months after I won it. I believe it just involved going to the dealership and signing a form. The manager wanted to take my picture with it, and I obliged. It was a far faster process than buying a car. In reading other answers to this question, it seems my experience was streamlined considerably by the fact that I won the car from Hyundai directly and not a radio station, game show, or sports team.

After the drive home, I drove it two more times: once to school to show off to my co-workers, and the other time I carefully drove it 100 miles to a Hyundai dealer in Portland who had offered to buy it for $18,000 – the best offer I got after placing a few ads and contacting several Hyundai dealers in the I-5 corridor.

Unfortunately, the IRS valued the Hyundai at the MSRP of $25,000, so about half of the $18,000 went to paying the taxes, but I used the rest to buy nice Italian leather furniture for my new house that I purchased that May. I had no regrets about my decision. I kept the Taurus another 3 years, the Miata another 19, and the couches another 22.

Canary Island Doughnuts

These are a San Antonio specialty.

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Ingredients

Filling

  • 1 pound (about 1 large) boiled or baked sweet potato, mashed
  • 1 1/2 cups chopped toasted almonds
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/4 cup milk
  • 2 tablespoons Pernod
  • 1 teaspoon aniseed, toasted and ground
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • Pinch of cinnamon

Pastry

  • 8 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1 teaspoon lemon zest
  • 3/4 cup Crisco, chilled
  • 1/4 cup unsalted butter, chilled
  • Ice water

Instructions

Filling

  1. In a medium bowl, combine all filling ingredients.
  2. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight.

Pastry

  1. Sift together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt into a large bowl.
  2. Sprinkle in the lemon zest.
  3. Cut in the shortening and butter with a pastry blender or fork.
  4. Add ice water a tablespoon at a time, adding only the minimum needed to barely hold the dough together.
  5. Wrap the dough in plastic, and refrigerate it for at least 1 hour or overnight.
  6. Roll the dough out 1/4 inch thick on a floured pastry board or counter. With a biscuit cutter, cut out 4 inch rounds. Top each round with about 2 tablespoons of filling. Fold the round in half, pinch the edges to seal them, and crimp them with a fork.
  7. Add vegetable oil to a heavy saucepan to a depth of at least 4 inches, and heat to 350 degrees F. If the oil smokes before reaching the correct temperature, it cannot be used for deep frying. Use only fresh, unused oil.
  8. Fry the doughnuts until they are lightly browned, about 2 to 3 minutes. Drain them, and sprinkle them with sifted confectioners’ sugar.
  9. Serve them immediately.

My Canadian horror story… Language barrier. I went to the ER last spring with a bad infection (red lines running down both arms) I arrived at 5:30 PM, shambled in the door, and flopped into a wheelchair. The infection caused a MS flair, and I could hardly walk. I was in triage in about 10 minutes, but being quebec the nurse was french, but spoke passable english, about as good as my french (functional but far from perfect). I said that I have MS, and was on Ocrevus, an immunosuppressant, and after taking temperature and blood pressure was sent to the waiting room. At 9:30 I told my wife to go home. a couple ambulances arrived every hour. I wasn’t in pain, so I just dozed waiting for them to get to me. Finally around 6:00 AM, I was called into an exam room. The DR looked at me quickly, hooked up IV antibiotics, then lectured me about being immunosuppressed, and how dangerous the infection was, and that I needed to tell triage that i am immunosuppressed and I would be seens a lot faster. I am not sure how I could be clearer than giving the reason, medication and effect… Whatever. I was transferred to a private room in the ER for the day, and by evening had a private regular room. By the next morning I was walking reasonable well, and was escorted to a shower between IV bags. Day 3, I was released around 4:00PM, after several bags of IV, an immune system booster (apparently my white blood cells had crashed to 0), with a prescription for antibiotic pills for another week.

Entire cost was $20 for the pills at the pharmacy . I received my regular medications at the hospital at no charge, a private room for 2 day and some odd hours, multiple bags of fluids and antibiotics, 2 injections to boost my immune system, and an “operation” to lance the point of infection and drain the puss, my regular medication, nurses monitoring my vitals every few hours. What would that have cost in the US, with insurance? i have no idea, but it would have been a lot higher than the $0 I paid at the hospital.

My neurologist got all the reports, booked me for an MRI, and a followup appointment within a week, changed my medication to one that isn’t quite as aggressive for another $0

The real horror, every month now, I need an injection that the list price is about $10,000, and when I pick it up at the pharmacy, along with a collection of pills, costs me a total of $100. Yes., I have to pay taxes for a total of about $1500 a year for my healthcare, unlike friends across the border that pay that every month for insurance.

I don’t know how us Canadians will survive. Waiting a few hours for ER care, and not paying with an arm and a leg, with the possibility of needing to sell a first born child as well… The horror of public health care!

For me, the “Blue Eyes/Brown Eyes” experiment by third-grade teacher Jane Elliott in 1968 takes the crown. This was no lab-coat, clipboard, beaker-filled extravaganza. No, this was an experiment so simple, yet so devastatingly effective, that it should be listed in the “How to Traumatize Children for Educational Purposes” handbook.

The Setup:

Elliott, a teacher in Riceville, Iowa, had a class full of innocent, unsuspecting eight-year-olds. The day after Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, she decided,

“You know what these kids need? A little taste of systematic oppression.”

So, she divided her students by eye color:

Blue-eyed kids? Congratulations, you’re the superior race today! You get extra privileges, better seating, longer recess, and most importantly, you’re just better than those brown-eyed degenerates.

Brown-eyed kids? Sorry, but today you’re at the bottom of the food chain. You get less recess, last in the lunch line, and you wear a humiliating collar to make sure everyone knows you’re inferior.

Within minutes, the children completely bought into their new social hierarchy. Blue-eyed kids strutted around with the confidence of a Fortune 500 CEO, while brown-eyed kids sulked, their self-esteem crushed under the weight of arbitrary discrimination.

The Fallout:

You might think, “Surely, children are kind and compassionate. They wouldn’t turn into little dictators in just a few hours!”

Oh, how naïve.

Blue-eyed kids started bullying the brown-eyed kids almost instantly.

Brown-eyed kids’ academic performance dropped (yes, literally in a matter of hours).

Friendships ended faster than you could blink.

Then, the next day, Elliott switched the roles. Now, brown-eyed kids were superior, and blue-eyed kids got to experience what it felt like to be treated as second-class citizens. Unsurprisingly, the previously bullied brown-eyed kids wasted zero time dishing out some sweet, sweet revenge.

The Lesson?

By the end of the exercise, the children had been transformed. When Elliott finally told them, “You see how easy it is to turn against each other?”, their little minds were blown. They had felt discrimination firsthand, and the lesson stuck with them for life.

It was a brutal, merciless, and absolutely genius social experiment.

Why is it my favorite? Because it wasn’t done to show off in a TED Talk or to boost someone’s social media following. It was a raw, unfiltered way of proving just how disturbingly easy it is to create discrimination out of nothing. The scariest part? It worked instantly.

Elliott later repeated this experiment with adults, and spoiler alert: They reacted just as badly. Full-grown men and women were reduced to petty, insecure, and hostile versions of themselves in mere hours.

If we ever needed proof that humans are one inconvenient rule away from absolute chaos, this is it. Elliott didn’t need years of research, a billion-dollar grant, or a high-tech lab—she just needed one dumb rule and an audience willing to believe it.

Next time you think, “I’d never fall for something like that,” just remember: A bunch of 8-year-olds turned into mini-Hitlers in less time than it takes to make a cup of tea.

Trapped on Titan: What Remains of the Huygens Probe Today?

The Vicious Circle

The Chinese Households have 180 Trillion Yuan worth of Deposits in Banks

They get an average of 1.27% to 1.77% a year interest on their deposits

Thanks to the 0.6% inflation, they are still ahead but even so, this represents a kind of flat wealth growth that until just 5–6 years ago, China never had

For instance Many countries average 0.8% to 2% growth in investments and return on deposits but most of them have had this for over 1–2 generations

Japanese born post 1990 who are 35 years or younger today have never seen major inflation in their lives except rental rates

Dutch, Nordics are the same

Yet Chinese who even in 2019 saw an average ROR of 4.05% a year on their investments including a 7.9% returns in Real Estate and 3.04% returns on Bank Deposits, are now suddenly seeing a return of barely 1.5% a year, a 50% reduction

This causes many Chinese to “Feel Poorer”

In other countries, it’s inflation

In China, it’s lack of inflation


Why are lesser rates a blessing to the Government?

Chinese Government pays much lesser interest on debt than it did in 2018/2019

For instance the Chinese debt burden due to local debt fell from 9.50%–10.50% of the Revenue in 2019 to a mere 5.6% in 2024

Hidden Debt on several billion yuan at 4% to 5% has now been restructured to a mere 1.8% to 2.3%

This has enormously helped China bring down hidden debt and restructure hidden debt and make the interest burden bearable

Low cost borrowing means more investment in AI, Robotics, Chips and Infrastructure


Options for the Chinese

The Chinese have 3 Options

  • Bank Deposits paying 1.3% to 1.8% ROR
  • Gold or Gold ETFs paying 3.1% to 3.5% ROR
  • Share Markets whic offered a paltry 0.51% a year growth between 2013–2023 but a whopping 17.87% growth between 2023–2025

Why the Government wants some savings to go into discretionary spending?

For Growth

Consumption must replace and compensate the GDP Growth shortfalls due to exports

For instance in 2024 , Exports contributed to nearly 26% of the GDP Growth (1.31%)

This year, Exports could contribute 30% less due to Trump Tariffs (0.92%)

This means around 0.4% Growth must be from somewhere else

This is Consumption

An Extra 3000 Billion Yuan ($ 391 Billion) of consumption could help create this extra growth of 0.4% and help China meet the 5% Target

That’s a mere 1.3% of the Total Household Savings of China

India is the best example

India has Household Savings of around ₹ 175 – ₹180 Lakh Crore

India is likely to lose 0.6% GDP Growth if Trump Tariffs remain until 31/12/2025

So India wants to ensure at least ₹ 7.5 Lakh Crore of Household Savings is unleashed into discretionary spending to make up for the extra 0.6%


Where are Bank deposits going?

The Share market!!!

The Share of Retail Investors rose from 8.3% in 2022 to 13.6% in 2025

This has heated up the stock market and risen market capitalization from 120 Trillion Yuan in 2024 March to 143.4 Trillion Yuan in 2025 August, a ride of almost 16% YoY

Likewise a lot of money is heading into retail gold buying

In 2023 for instance, only 47% of the Gold imported went to Consumption (20% went to Inventory & 33% went to the PBOC)

In 2025, almost 70% of Gold Imported has gone into consumption (12% to Inventory, 18% to the PBOC)

This means 40% increase in Gold Buying by the Chinese Public

Israel vs. China? It’s a Chihuahua Barking at a DRAGON! 🇨🇳🇮🇱

ksnip 20250925 065308
ksnip 20250925 065308

END

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Peter S

What happened to the forum, I can’t access it anymore

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