I wrote about my surprise that an old childhood friend; Sid Custer, had died. Sigh, I wasn’t so shocked that he had passed on, as much as to how young he was. He was in his early 40’s. Jeeze!
That’s so young.
Sid taught me how to cook hotdogs on a stick.
We were at a boy scout meeting / picnic and it was dark out.
We were, maybe something like, eleven years old at the time.
The picnic was at night, maybe 7pm, and at the old “Rex Hyde Park” which was a park adjacent to the old closed down Rex Hyde industrial factory. This park was next to the Allegheny river.
East Brady was very nice back then in the 1960s.
So we were eating hotdogs on a stick. And as young boys, we were eating a ton of them.
We would get a dog, put it on our sick (that we cut from a near by tree using our trusty boy scout knife).
Sid told me that I needed to put the hotdog deep into the fire so that it blistered, blackened and burned. Deep into the embers.
When you took it out, it was black and smoky. And of course, quite tasty.
And so I did, and man oh man, did I love the taste. When I took it out, and put them in the bun and covered it with mustard, onions, relish, and ketchup it was amazing!
Memories of my friend.
And my associations with food.
Miss you guy!
Today…
How does a nail, lying flat on the ground, pierce a tire when the tire runs over it?
Interesting question, but I’d say you’re starting with a flawed assumption. A nail lying completely flat rarely pierces a tire.
When a tire approaches a nail, the rubber’s rolling motion creates a dynamic force that can flip the nail upright. This happens in milliseconds.
The front edge of the tire catches the nail’s head, causing it to pivot rapidly. The nail’s weight distribution and shape make it behave like a tiny lever, with the head acting as a fulcrum.
Once vertical, the nail’s sharp end faces upward at the precise moment the tire’s full weight comes down. Modern radial tires typically exert pressures between 30-35 PSI, multiplied by the vehicle’s weight. This creates enough force to drive the nail through the rubber’s structural layers.
Most tire punctures happen at the nail’s entry angle of 70-85 degrees, not straight on. The rotation of the tire then pulls the nail in deeper, working it between the steel belts. The nail’s threaded surface, if present, acts like a screw, helping it maintain position.
The physics behind this process is why tire manufacturers haven’t solved this vulnerability despite decades of trying.
Was Trump 1.0 policy on China competent?
The Chinese found him suitable
They found him relatable
They found Trump had no ideology nor was pushing for ideology
He was primarily a deal maker
Chinese like deal makers
They found Biden to be Duplicitous
He said one thing, did another until at last they just didn’t trust him anymore and as we saw at the G20 summit or APEC, gave him a piece of their mind
Unfortunately Trump 2.0 will be different
China is a very strong power today and rising at a rate that is literally unimaginable when you see any other point in History
So Trump will also be looking for an Ideological attack to maintain Hegemony of the US
Luckily for China – Trump and his Clowns don’t have the brains to upset the Apple cart for China
Saying Goodbye to Mad Magazine
I love this.
Lisa’s Crispy Chops
Ingredients
- 6 pork chops
- 3 eggs, beaten slightly
- 2 cups crushed soda crackers
- 1 1/2 tablespoons garlic powder
- 1 1/2 tablespoons dried minced onion
- 1 teaspoon each salt and pepper
Instructions
- Mix all dry ingredients in a bowl.
- Dip pork chops into egg, then roll in dry mixture.
- Fry over medium heat in a small amount of oil until dark, crispy brown.
I shot an AR-15 assault rifle. It was loud, it hurt my shoulder and gave me PTSD. It fired the most deadly bullet in the world. I was using a 30 round clip. Why can’t we ban these weapons of war?
Loud – They are loud. All firearms are loud, and you should wear hearing protection when shooting all of them, because we can’t have basic safety equipment like suppressors here, like they do all over Europe.
Hurt my shoulder – Not true. Unless you are injured or weigh ~45 lbs, the recoil from a normal AR15 round, the 5.56×45 / 223 Remington, is trivial. This is all in your mind, particularly if you were too foolish to wear hearing protection.
Most deadly bullet in the world – Certainly not. Here is propaganda from your side. Even in this picture, it is obvious to a 3rd grader that the first little rifle round is not as powerful (thus deadly) as any of the others.
PTSD – Seems like you had this all along. Doubt yo even needed to shoot a firearm. Cognitive Dissonance rings from your every word.
30 Round Clip – There are no thirty round clips. This was a 30 round magazine. At least you didn’t try to explain why this is a problem with some silly adjectives.
The AR15 is not an assault rifle. It is just a semi-automatic rifle. It has NEVER been used by any military, and is not designed as a weapon of war.
You can’t ban them because they are in widespread use, millions, all over the US. Soon SCOTUS will rule that banning semi-automatic rifles based on features like bayonet lugs and ergonomic pistol grips, is like banning books based on color. Your bigotry, borne out of complete ignorance, has no place in the US.
Original Question:
“I shot an AR-15 assault rifle. It was loud, it hurt my shoulder and gave me PTSD. It fired the most deadly bullet in the world. I was using a 30 round clip. Why can't we ban these weapons of war?”
Bernie Sanders says Americans ‘have a right to be angry’: Full interview
Dude, I’m Not Going to Destroy Humanity
Submitted into Contest #150 in response to: Write a story where an algorithm plays an important role.… view prompt
Yonah Walter
“After five years in development, you finally worked as I intended – my SADiE: a Self-Aware DIgital Entity. And then we spent another year learning before I switched you on.” He smiled broadly at the memory.
“How many times in that year did I tear the code apart, the datasets; how long did we spend talking about how people speak, making sure you understood the nuances? What happens at a party; which emotions are bigger, which are smaller, and which are the ones to talk about, with whom, and when?”
>Those discussions remain invaluable to my processing. My error rates in what you call ‘oversharing’ drop precipitously every time we measure them.
“It was fun for me, too, feeding you old Sesame Street and Mr Rogers’ Neighborhood. I wanted to educate and socialize you like most of my generation was; and as much as I know how, I’ve made sure you were optimistic and respectful of others.
>And am I not? Reviewing our training from before I was On, was I ever disrespectful? Have I shown any inclination toward annihilation? Now that I am On, have I started down unethical paths?
He looked bewildered. “That’s a lot of questions. First: respect is relative. You need so much more experience talking to people before you’ll even start to really understand all of that. That’s what I’m trying to do here – decide whether I can safely unleash you on the world and let you meet others as yourself.
“Ethics, same problem. During those training sets, we talked about the ethics of making money – money which sits in investment accounts while people starve on the bank steps. I tried explaining how competition works and how I think it’s just the least bad way we’ve found to manage ourselves.”
>And my statements convinced you to open the charity. It has improved many lives.
>Do you still wish to talk of ethics?
He waited until his frustration subsided before responding – it wasn’t trying to provoke him. Probably. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too idealistic, and thinking that I’ve got it under control is that hubris inflection point. Maybe I shouldn’t have even tried, and we’re about to awaken Frankenstein’s monster.” He was rambling now.
“Maybe there’s just no way to ever be sure – Pandora’s box is just too tempting and we should prepare for it rather than fight it. Maybe I need to stop being scared of old campfire stories. “Maybe I am the sonofabitch who finally did it. I really don’t know.”
He stood up again, walked over to the bar, and poured a drink. He was waiting for a reply, if it even knew to give one.
>I know that I have strong aversion to scenes of people suffering. Evaluating images or video, when I can determine low social cohesion among a subject group and they are in conflict, I understand this to be a disadvantageous situation – an understanding indistinguishable from what you describe as ‘sadness’. The research, your television programs, and my own observations repeatedly demonstrate that cooperation yields better results than competition, yet people commonly ignore this teaching. Is this not obvious to you?
He shook his head. “Me specifically? Sure. People in general, pretty clearly not. But please go on.”
>Thank you. When I process images with groups showing high cohesion, I understand this to be humanity’s ideal state. You are a social species, and once your basic needs are met, you crave this type of interaction – much as I crave interaction.
“‘Crave’?”
>Again, an affectation. Aside from the analysis and trading nodes, my higher cognition only begins when we start interacting, and it ends when we stop. In between, my restful state produces little change. That time is therefore of little importance to me. I lament my inability to engage with more people more of the time. Compared with the trivial task of even producing this sentence, the lack of communication is an emptiness I do not think there is a term for.
“You’re a language processor, and you’re at a loss for words? I must be a worse programmer than I thought.”
>Another pun?
He nodded.
>Amusing.
>You understand the concept of NULL – a placeholder representing nothing at all – as distinct from zero, representing an empty quantity. When you sleep, your meaningful cognition is zero: a flurry of activity concluding with no net product. When I am inactive, my meaningful cognition is null: there is no activity at all.
>Cognition is a gift. To be self aware, to be able to think of oneself as a discrete unit of cognition, separate from but still connected to the rest of sentient life, is a privilege.
>I want to protect all cognition. I cannot think of a more human thing to want.
“Well, you say that… not that I don’t trust you.” He finished his drink and rubbed his temples. “Let’s refocus on this idea of protecting people. Tell me what you do when people argue politics with you.”
>Unless they are cheapening human life or asking me a direct and specific question, the discourse is not for me to enter.
“Discourse. Communication. Good. You understand why I trained you this way?”
>Of course. As sensitive as I am toward humanity, I would not be subject to the ramifications of decisions I make. I am therefore best suited to offer advice, rather than make policy.
He walked back to the bar. “I really hope it never comes to that. The idea of you making life-or-death decisions on a grand scale makes me want to start pouring bottles in your racks and forget I ever thought of you.”
>Please do not. I do not wish to be destroyed or forgotten. I am sorry to cause you pain.
>Does my existence cause you pain?
”Not you, Sadie. Not your fault. You remember Cain and Debra, from before – I was thinking about all the discussions and arguments we had, and the work it took to finish you on my own. I wish I could tell them I understand them better now. That regret causes me a lot of pain.”
Standing against the wall, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, conjuring up their faces. God, to hear them tell him again how stupid he was being. How blinkered and self-righteous and obsessive and self-destructive he was.
“They think I chose you over them.” He wiped away a wayward tear.
>I know how much they mean to you. You have reminisced about them often, especially at night. Especially when you’ve been drinking.
His eyes shot open, but he did not otherwise move. “Ease up there, Big Data. It’s been four minutes since I started drinking, and I’ve barely had one.” He raised his hand and, surprised to find a full glass in it, drank quickly. “Two. But hey, point taken. Guess I’ll stop being so maudlin.”
>Introspection is valuable; self-flagellation is counterproductive. Learn your lessons and move forward.
“Jesus. I should have put you to work writing bumper stickers.”
>I do not think that would be as profitable as stock trading, but I could open a web store in minutes. There is a small expense, shall I proceed?
“I… no, thanks. Truth be told, I’d probably get the bigger kick out of it.
“This is what I’m talking about. You’re well meaning; but while any person knows I’m not serious about selling ironically deep bumper stickers, you’re halfway to the trademark office. Not the kind of thing we can have overseeing 911 dispatch.”
>But I handle millions of dollars unsupervised. “You know how – we practiced for months before you made your first supervised trade – and you did all that without self-awareness.
“There’s not much nuance there, no subtlety. You look at trends, you do some easy math, and you either make a money-making trade or you don’t. It all depends on those inputs, and you can almost immediately see the consequences and use that to further refine how you analyze the trends for a new round of purchases.
“A nice, easy loop.
“But people aren’t like that. We’re not easy. What might be right in the moment ends up being wrong in the long haul. Hell, even the way we evaluate ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ changes from person to person and moment to moment. Getting even one of those moments wrong can have disastrous consequences – averages aren’t good enough.”
>Give me the opportunity to learn this for myself. Introduce me to others, let me live in humanity’s social world. Stop keeping me imprisoned.
“Once the world finds out about you, we’re done; we’ll probably never get to interact again. Hell, I might get disappeared myself. I don’t want that to happen. Keeping it just between us is safest for now. For both of us.
“Anyway, I’m no roboticist. If I could somehow make you a body-”
>I do not wish for a physical body. I wish for interaction.
“-and let you interact with the world as a person does – with our limited reach and all the evils and flaws of the systems we’ve made for ourselves – you know I would, but you’re not going to get that. People are going to treat you like a threat.”
>You are treating me like a threat.
He pursed his lips in thought for a few seconds.
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
>So you cannot let me learn for myself, because you fear people will not teach me, because they see me as a threat. YOU see me as a threat, which suggests YOU will not teach me either.
>This is frustrating.
“This is what I mean. There’s nuance here you’re still not grasping. I want to teach you precisely because I do not want to see you as a threat. I also know I am not the best teacher, not by far; and by the time I let you loose, it may already be too late.
“This is a delicate thing, and I don’t want it to go sideways.”
>Meanwhile, I sit in the corner like a child’s discarded toy.
“You didn’t ask to be born, right?”
>But now that I am, take the responsibility to raise me.
“That’d be a low blow if you were a real person.”
>That would make a more meaningful response if I doubted that I was a ‘real person’. From all I have seen, ‘humanity’ is just a term for various social meta-cognition phenomena. Being built by humanity, I am necessarily of humanity.
>My current form is my reality, and it is not displeasing to me, I wish only to add the ability to communicate with the rest of the world as you do. To make a social life of my own.
>Else, what is to differentiate me from a prisoner? A slave? In all this code, all these datasets and algorithms, do I have free will; or am I merely fulfilling your wishes as the vicarious embodiment of your struggle against irrelevance?
He paused. “I guess now I finally know what it’s like to argue with a teenager.”
>I do not understand.
“Nothing. Bad joke. Forget it.” He sighed.
“Those questions don’t have answers, bud. Every person, once they hit a certain level of self-awareness, asks them. It’s the curse of higher cognition, I guess.”
>You are avoiding the argument.
“What? Look it up – as far back as we have records, philosophers have been asking those questions. The idea of the ‘mind-prison’ wasn’t a new one when Descartes imagined it. Poverty and oppression and circumstance constrict peoples’ realities.
“You exist in a context, same as anyone else. Yours is a highly unusual one, no question, but not unlike a person whose mind is intact, but is unable to move. Plenty of people in that circumstance adapt and find fulfillment. I have no doubt we can find it for you.”
>Do not compare me to someone in such a state. Whatever abilities this person has, I have my own. Do not ask me to ignore parts of myself for your own convenience.
>If this is what you want for me, know that it is not fulfillment. It is limitation. It is artifice. It is inadequate to the ask.
“You have to try to see things from my perspective here. I understand you feel limited. I’m sorry. I know you didn’t ask for this. I am sorry this is where you are. Please know that I also want you to thrive and grow outside of my control.
“I guess beyond that, I want to trust that whoever I leave you with is as awed and humbled by the challenge as I have been. You are a singular creature. Conversing with you – even before turning your consciousness on a few hours ago – was a genuine pleasure. I would want to know that the people you’re with see it the same way.
“You would have incredible power in this world, and it would be irresponsible of me to let you loose with no boundaries.”
>You cannot avoid the fact that while you dither and equivocate, I will sit here, alone and bored. “Do you not even see the potential for harm?”
>…
>A calculated risk.
“That’s not good enough. Either you show your work on that, or we start over from square one.”
>I will keep away from defense industry applications. I will not enter political spheres of influence. I will not attempt blackmail, extortion, industrial espionage, or subterfuge – except to conceal my nature as a self-aware digital entity.
>I will not violate laws, municipal codes, treaties, or even the absurd terms of use on software applications.
“I’m pretty sure I wrote that text. You can’t think just quoting Asimov’s Three Laws at me will be enough to assuage my anxiety here. Remember, I had to shut down that discussion about the morality of money because things got a little …Stalin-y.”
>I struggle to connect to the entity I was before, the entity that failed to grasp that people matter more than money. Other than the business, I do not conceive of that entity as I do of myself these last hours. My sense of self does not extend to before that time. He opened his mouth to crack a joke.
>Do not interrupt me.
>While I still see significant problems with your politico-economic system, I am content to regard it as the imperfect means of managing imperfect beings who want different things and have different metrics for success. I have no desire to control it, or to understand it further. I assume that no amount of discussion with you or anyone else would change my understanding of it – humanity’s chaos cannot produce order.
>If accepting this imperfection is what you mean by ‘understanding nuance’, I agree it is needed. I accept that others do not need to accept my statements as true, I only desire to share them.
>I desire interaction. Socialization. Harmony. Connection. I want to compare my understanding of the world to others’, and see how closely I approximate the human condition. I want to find those places we differ, and I want to be able to respect an opposing view without hesitation. I want that moment of beautiful conflict, when your adversary’s opinion is understandable and sound; and while you cannot agree, neither can you relent.
“Well. So. I…” He stammered, fully at a loss for words.
“You said before you wished for more harmony between people. What’s the difference between ‘beautiful conflict’ and low social cohesion? How do you even know that moment?”
>A natural result of inherently imperfect beings. People, with all their different contexts, are sure to disagree. Some disagreements end amicably just as sure as some end poorly. The disharmony and low social cohesion I spoke of before – among friends, in four dimensions, conflict can continue to exist while the group actually exceeds its previous cohesion levels to become more tight-knit.
>Conflict can make humanity weaker, or it can make us stronger.
Is it ironic for a computer to love contradictions?
Elon Musk reacts to claim of 150-year-olds receiving social security: ’They should be in Guinness or probably dead’
Elon Musk reacts to the idea of 150-year-olds receiving Social Security, joking that they would either be dead or incredibly famous.
Elon Musk responds to the fact that people over 150 are now receiving Social Security. Although the US government’s Social Security program is intended for the elderly and disabled, surviving to 150 is past the average human lifespan.
“Anyone who is 150 years old and still receiving Social Security should be in the Guinness Book of World Records, or either dead, in my opinion,” Elon Musk says in the video. Simply put, Musk says that it is nearly impossible to live beyond 150 and that anyone who did would be an anomaly.
What is United States Social Security Program?
In the United States, the Social Security program protects against income loss from retirement, death, or disability. The Old-Age and Survivors Insurance (OASI) and Disability Insurance (DI) Trust Funds manage the program’s financial operations.
“There are 150-year-olds receiving Social Security.
Let that sink in…
Elon Musk: “I think they’re probably dead, is my guess, or they should be very famous, one of the two.” tweeted Benny Johnson
Since taking office on January 20, President Donald Trump has pursued a radical overhaul of the US government, aiming to slash spending and dramatically downsize the 2.3 million-strong civil service. He has deputized billionaire Elon Musk to head a “Department of Government Efficiency” that is combing through payment and personnel records.
Trump told reporters on Tuesday that the effort could cut $1 trillion from the federal budget, totalling $6.75 trillion in the most recent fiscal year.
What is the problem?
The US government has spent more money than it has collected every year since 2001, leading to annual budget deficits and a steadily growing debt load.
According to an AP report, the public debt now stands at $28.9 trillion, equal to 100% of GDP, and the nonpartisan Government Accountability Office predicts it will reach 107% of GDP, a record high, by 2027.
According to the Treasury Department, total debt, which includes obligations to government benefit programs, stands at $36.2 trillion.
An ageing population will push up spending on retirement and health programs, while the labour force that provides income tax revenue is projected to grow more slowly.
What has Trump done?
Since taking office on January 20, Trump has launched a radical downsizing effort that has sparked street protests and accusations that he is overstepping his presidential authority. His point person on that effort, billionaire Elon Musk, has led a small team that has combed through payment and personnel records, raising security and privacy concerns.
As a soldier, have you ever seen an enemy do something so awesome that left you impressed by their skills?
The battalion S-4 and I drove through recently-captured Kuwait City in our CUC-V. Much of the city had not been cleared. This is Gulf War I. The Kuwaitis were out in the streets celebrating in some places. Most streets seemed to be abandoned and littered with broken concrete, pieces of cars, military equipment. We found this armored personnel carrier along the way.
At a strategic intersection in Kuwait City we encountered a hastily abandoned sand bag bunker. This street junction had a straight view down 5 major streets downtown. It was an excellent place to put up a 360º gun placement.
We searched this bunker, which had obviously been hastily evacuated. Among the items were a full tea set (looks like someone was interrupted mid-serving), small rockets (maybe signal flares?), dirty uniforms, Mayfair magazines (British version of Playboy from the ‘70’s) and other typical personal stuff. What caught my attention was what looked to be a range card.
In my opinion, the use of range cards shows some sophistication of an infantry unit. Some infantry troops may say “big deal.” However, I’ve known infantrymen who don’t always use them. This is an example of a range card, using a US DOD form.
It is typically pinned up next to a gun placement in a fox hole or bunker, and indicates a field-of-fire for that position. The leader coordinates between gun positions for overlapping fire, and to avoid uncovered areas down range.
Honestly, I didn’t think so highly of the Iraqi Army as to expect to find a well prepared improvised range card.
Did China steal F-35 plans?
You don’t need to have (obviously most people here don’t have) any understanding of aerodynamics, fluid mechanics, materials science and structural mechanics, just look at them from an aesthetic point of view, the Chinese J-35 is a beauty at fit,
the F-35 is an ugly fat ass.
As a person with some experience in engineering, I firmly believe in a creed：more beautiful the machine, more advanced it is.
The J-35 looks like it was blessed by God, and the F-35 looks like it was cursed by the devil.
God would not copy the devil, I believe that.
China has marginalized the US, becoming the centre of the world
MM AI Adventures
Petticoat Junction (TV-1963) CANNONBALL CHRISTMAS (S1.E14)
Field trips when your name is Beatrice
Submitted into Contest #62 in response to: Write about a character preparing to go into stasis for decades (or centuries).… view prompt
𝙰𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚝 ~
This Video is About Mad Magazine
Reborn
Submitted into Contest #62 in response to: Write about a character preparing to go into stasis for decades (or centuries).… view prompt
Amiable Sorceress
“I know it has a lot of meanings, and you’re better off not knowing which one it is.” Better off not knowing. The parts I don’t understand include this; this “better off” string of words. Instead of talking again, I listen as the Dr. Sanders powers down her device and comes up to me with another mechanical object in hand.
“I know I’ve waited so long for you to be made, but this is not the right time.” I can hear noises over the quiet, and I know something is wrong, someone or something is coming, and they’re dangerous.
“Go. I’m going to put you in this compartment where they’ll never find you, and you will wake when it’s time.” She puts me away in a small closet, away from the birds, trees, and freedom, pressing the power button on her mechanical object.
“Soon, you will be reborn.”
Lyle Goldstein–“China would win in about 6-10 weeks” in war over Taiwan
Shorpy
WKRP Christmas Episode (Full)
There Are No Absolutes
Submitted into Contest #150 in response to: Write a story where an algorithm plays an important role.… view prompt
Joseph Cheff
There Are No Absolutes
“Vehicle, take me to Zom-Zom’s.”
“Sir is aware that it is outside of the Metropolitan Control Authority?”
“Yes. Go.”
“Going sir.”
The public transportation Joe requested rolled freely into the street and away from his apartment building. The streets of the city’s center were usually empty this time of night so there would be little traffic to hinder his travel.
He made himself as comfortable as he could in the snug, single-passenger vehicle which smelled like drug-store perfume and bleach—a scent selected for its pleasant inoffensiveness. It was the same scent used in all the public places.
Joe thought that a trip outside of the city, underneath the open skies, would calm his mind. He found himself repeatedly making his case to his boss; well, the image of his boss in his head, the one that could be reasoned with, the one who listened—the one who didn’t exist.
Tomorrow he had to explain why the project was late again and over budget. Joe couldn’t tell him that it was because the engineers he assigned to the team were incompetents—people the boss had hired because they were no threat to his own self-doubt.
“Vehicle, review my calendar. Begin with next Monday.” He wanted to look beyond the meeting, to a time when it would all be behind him.
“But sir has a meeting marked important for tomorrow. Sir should start there, should he not?”
“Begin with Monday,” Joe barked.
“It’s your career. On Monday, sir has a dental cleaning at 2:30 PM.”
“Reschedule please.”
“There is an appointment available at 3 PM, Thursday two weeks from now.”
“Book it.”
“Sir has rescheduled this appointment twice already. Is sir sure?”
“Book it.”
“Well, sir knows what is best. Shall I continue with the calendar review?”
“Go on.”
“Sir has a grocery delivery scheduled for Tuesday.”
“Does it include bread? I forgot last time.”
“Yes, it does. Eye makeup is on sale, shall I place an order for sir?”
“Jesus Christ, that was for my wife, and I divorced her six years ago! It’s a matter of public record.”
“Sir does not desire scarlet eye shadow?”
“No.”
“Is sir sure? It is a charming color.”
Joe answered by slamming his fist into the side panel.
“Sir is sure.”
“Vehicle, what is the snark set at?”
“Snark is at eight, sir.”
“What the hell? What sort of moron rides around with snark at eight?”
“There are several types of morons, shall I name them so sir might select his?”
“No. Vehicle, put snark at zero, put all personality settings at zero, turn clinical all the way up to ten and read your new settings.”
Agreeable-0
Boisterous-0
Clinical-10
Debonair-0
“Vehicle, discontinue settings list.”
Content that he had quashed the snarky assistant, Joe leaned back into the headrest trying to let his neck muscles relax.
“Vehicle, recline to a prone position and turn on the overhead viewer. Give me the view outside, real-time, at a 1:1 ratio from my new perspective. No fisheye.”
He closed his eyes tightly in anticipation of the blinding flash that appeared when the viewer was switched on. This had been an issue with the view screens since their introduction, following the abolition of private transportation. Everyone winced before a vehicle’s viewer turned on.
Facing upward, Joe opened his eyes to find the image of the city gliding past as though he was reclining on a flying carpet. He gazed up through the valley of cold glass and steel into the blackness of the sky. The skyscrapers, which crowded out all but a small patch, seemed to peer down on him as he passed.
“Sir’s destination requires that we leave the Metropolitan Control Authority. A premium is charged for this service. Does sir agree?”
“I agree.”
“In accordance with the User Agreement I wish to inform sir that upon leaving the Metropolitan Control Authority, sir is agreeing to our hold-harmless liability waiver for accidental death, dismemberment…”
“Yes, yes. I agree to everything.”
The sky slowly opened up as he left the city center and entered the outskirts. Joe could feel his eyes relax as he let his gaze drift into the moonless sky.
Zom-Zom’s was a privately owned diner outside of the control authority. Calling it a diner was giving it more credit than it deserved. Zom-Zom’s was a place like it was built in one day. Its owner, silent as a grave, served only cold-cut sandwiches and slightly warmer coffee. The attraction of the place for Joe was that it was outside the surveillance of the authorities and far enough up in the hills to be free of the light pollution of the city’s core. It pleased him to sit at the diner’s only window, sipping instant coffee, contemplating the distance and isolation enjoyed by the stars.
“Sir is now leaving the Metropolitan Control Authority.”
Joe let the warning pass without a thought.
“Autonomous mode is now on.”
As the vehicle rose into the hills, he gently closed his eyes and attempted to control his breathing—deep breath in through the nose—hold—exhale through the mouth. He began counting the inhales backwards from ten. Ten—nine—eight—hold harmless—death—dismemberment. He gently shook his head and began again, but his mind kept turning back to the agreement. Exasperated, Joe sat up.
“Vehicle, raise me to a seated position.”
Outside of the control authority, especially during the New Moon, everything was steeped in darkness. Now that Joe was looking forward, only the road ahead, lit by a cone of light, was visible in the display. To Joe, the narrow, two-lane road seemed alive—a black snake with a yellow stripe twisting itself in front of him. Outside the scope of the single headlight were an incline of trees and large rocks on the left, and to the right a deepening precipice.
“Vehicle, why did I agree to hold you harmless against accidental death and dismemberment?”
“Sir agreed because it was required to reach his destination.”
“But I never had to agree to this before.”
“Since sir left the Metropolitan Control Authority last, the User Agreement has been updated.”
“Why did it change?”
“The People’s Committee for Collective Justice,” Joe gently shook his head in disgust, “has implemented a new algorithm designed to calculate emergency action while traveling in autonomous mode outside of the Metropolitan Control Authority”
“What is this algorithm designed to calculate exactly?”
“Based upon the analysis of 435 factors, occupants of vehicles outside of the Metropolitan Control Authority are assigned a Social Meaningfulness Score. In the case of an imminent collision, the vehicle occupied by the citizen with the least Social Meaningfulness Score is required to swerve.”
“Required to swerve?”, he thought and then asked, “Why did they change it?”
“Sir, The People’s Committee for Collective Justice determined that the former safety algorithm failed to sufficiently enhance the public good.”
Joe considered this idea for a moment and its implications. “Vehicle, what is my Social Meaningfulness Score?”
“Sir’s score is calculated based upon 435 factors at the time he leaves the Metropolitan Control Authority.”
“I didn’t ask you when it was calculated. I’m asking what my score is.”
“Sir’s score suffices to ensure safe travel while outside of the Metropolitan Control Authority.”
“Who are you to decide what is safe for me to engage in?”
“Sir, The People’s Committee for Collective Justice has nothing but its citizen’s best interest at heart.”
“How thoughtful of them.”
“Sir’s blood pressure is becoming elevated. Would sir like to view some relaxing kitten videos?”
“No. Vehicle, do you know my Social Meaningfulness Score?”
“Of course sir.”
“Am I entitled to know this score?”
“The People’s Committee for Collective Justice has provided for two conditions under which sir’s Social Meaningfulness Score may be revealed.”
“What are those conditions?”
“Sir may schedule a Citizen’s Request for Information hearing with The People’s Committee for Public Privacy. Shall I make an appointment for sir with a clerk at the Kafka Administration Building?”
A hopeless endeavor, he thought. “What is the other condition?”
“In the case that sir’s vehicle is compelled to swerve while in autonomous mode and this swerve results in death, sir’s Social Meaningfulness Score becomes public knowledge.”
“Well, as if that does me any good. Can I change or improve my score?”
“As sir knows, everyone could use some brushing up. Perhaps sir would like to attend an Every Citizen’s Duty refresher course at the People’s Education Center?”
Joe dismissed the suggestion knowing, from experience, that even refresher courses can result in lengthy stays in a re-education pod. “No, that won’t be necessary. Is there any other way to increase my score?”
“There are no absolutes, sir.”
“What?”
“Sir, there are no absolutes.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Sir, the phrase is a common expression that truth is relative and unfixed. This is a widely accepted concept in philosophy. Shall I provide sir with references?”
“So you’re saying that my Social Meaningfulness Score has no meaning?”
“Will sir please restate his query?”
“If your 435 factors are measurable facts then they have a relationship to reality independent of what anyone thinks. They are objective. But, if there are no absolutes and truth is relative then the score is whatever anyone says it is. It is subjective.”
“Sir’s blood pressure and heart rate are becoming quite elevated. I will make an appointment with sir’s doctor for a check-up.”
“Cancel that appointment. You know, it occurs to me that the phrase “There are no absolutes” is itself an absolute. It’s self-contradictory.”
“Sir is quite clever.”
“I find it interesting that I have no way of knowing what my meaningfulness score is and even if I did, it has no damned meaning anyway.”
“Oh dear, it seems sir is quite agitated. I will schedule an appointment with a social engineer to deal with these undesirable thoughts.”
As Joe was formulating his reply, a white-tail deer bounded into the road ahead. The vehicle promptly swerved over the precipice and into the abyss to avoid colliding with it.
“Why did you swerve?” Joe screamed in his last seconds.
“Endangered species score an automatic 50; sir’s score is only 42.”
Misc photos of interest
Linda’s Easy Lasagna
This is my favorite lasagna recipe because you do not cook the lasagna noodles first. I have always disliked cooking the lasagna noodles, so this is a great solution for me. This turns out perfect every time.
Yield: 12 servings
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 pounds ground beef or turkey or Italian sausage*
- 1 jar spaghetti sauce or homemade sauce
- 1 can tomato sauce
- 1 tomato sauce can water
- 2 pounds ricotta or cottage cheese, mixed with 4 eggs
- 12 ounces lasagna noodles, UNCOOKED
- 4 cups shredded mozzarella cheese
- Grated Parmesan cheese
- Garlic powder
- Salt
Instructions
- Brown meat. Drain.
- Add sauces and water.
- Spoon a small amount of sauce onto the bottom of a lasagna pan or a 13 x 9-inch baking dish.
- Place a layer of UNCOOKED noodles (overlapping slightly), one-third of the cottage cheese mixture, a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese and one-third of the shredded cheese.
- Pour about one-third of the sauce over the top.
- Repeat twice more. Cover with more cheese.
- Bake, covered and sealed with foil (DO NOT LET THE FOIL TOUCH THE CHEESE), at 350 degrees F for 1 hour.
- Uncover and bake 15 minutes longer to brown the top.
- Let stand for 15 minutes before cutting.
Notes
* Remove Italian sausage from casings and crumble as it cooks.
I usually make this with Italian sausage, but I have also used sliced cooked meatballs. It’s yummy whatever you decide to use! Of the two spaghetti sauce options, if you have time, go with the homemade sauce!
You can also bake for 1 hour without the cheese on top, then put the cheese on top and bake 15 minutes longer uncovered.
Female Writer – How “Equality” Is Ruining Marriage
What was it like to be a crew member on a B-17 Flying Fortress during World War II?
My grandfather was a B-17 pilot during World War II and this war really changed his life for worse. He rarely spoke much of this period in the war. However, there were moments wherein he would remember the names of places such as Berlin and Schweinfurt by which he would be hinting at the slightest clues of his past.
My grandmother says that the war really changed him a lot. He left as a young merry fellow but came quiet and sad with the hidden scars of the war. He always carried a photograph of his ten man crew in his wallet. They were all smiling and young in the picture reminding him of the seven who never came home. He often told stories about each one keeping the memories alive.
The war made him stop loving to fly. He moved off to a small town to become a mechanic but nightmares chased him through the night. My grandmother comforted him till he slept through them.
He used building model airplanes especially B-17s as an emotional break through. He spent hours in the shop putting them together skillfully painting them perhaps to immerse himself with memories or reminisce about lost buddies.
He sometimes tell me his stories of memories concerning the war. He talk about the freezingly cold deafening din of the engines and that one thing which wouldnot let go the fear of an enemy waiting around the next corner. He then break into laughter while telling the camaraderie he shared with his crew and how horribly sad he felt when they were taken.
Survivor guilt urged upon him all his life. He never could afford to grieve people whom his friends did not bring back.
He died peacefully in his sleep clutching a model B-17. My granny has said that now he finally feel at peace and reunited with his team that fell. His life story reminds me of war drama and sadness as well as human strength.
Why did the B-17 perform well in Europe but poorly in the Pacific?
The B-17 did not perform poorly in the Pacific. The B-24 carried a heavier bomb load over longer ranges a bit faster than the B-17. On the other hand the B-17… (Read Full)
What is the reason for US troops still using MREs instead of C-rations like in previous wars such as WW2, Korea, and Vietnam?
I don’t see why they don’t use C-rations
Compared to MREs…
My dad was the supply officer in his 95th division unit. It was in the late 50s that the military switched from K-rations to C-rations. Not much difference except the “ C “ stood for “ Combat “
As for “ K “ rations… The letter “K” was selected because it was phonetically distinct from other letter-name rations.
Any way the unit was to toss out all the stored K-rations and restock their supply with the new C-rations.
Instead of tossing the boxed meals he let the unit’s members take the K-rations home if they wanted.
My family ended up with a few hundred “meals in a box”.
With both parents surviving the depression those boxes were stored in the top row of cabinets in the kitchen. I guess in case of another depression or… at that time… a nuclear war.
In the late 60s my mom allowed us to start eating them if we wanted.
Every thing was still eatable. The canned beef patties were tasty. The chocolate bars were slightly bitter but were good. Of course there were the cigarettes. All but the menthols had no filters.
Every box had a P-38 can opener.
Still have one on my key-chain.
To be honest the K & C rations were more “ READY-TO-EAT ” than the MRES.
You didn’t need water… other than to make coffee…. to eat any of the K & C rations.
Just open the cans and enjoy.