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One bad event can create situations that force you to do things that will lead to far better events

The South Koreans will say anything their US master order them to say. We all know that South Korea is a US poodle colony with tens of thousands of American soldiers everyday trampling on South Korean soil and copulating with South Korean girls.

I pity them.

I’ve written about another customer on a similar topic, but as we are coming out of a hurricane I would be remiss to not talk about this one.

The year was 2004. My state was hit by multiple hurricanes. I worked in tech support for the cable company, dealing only with internet issues. My office was right on the water and we were watching as night fell and the waves were coming up higher over the patio. We were waiting on the evacuation order and were taking calls up until the last possible minute.

I got a call from someone whose service cut out. I told her that I understand the issue but we are unable to send someone to restore that night as A) it is after 8PM and the techs stopped working and B) we had an impending hurricane. I offered to set an appointment for the next available day which would be 3 days out. She was having none of it.

She understood that there was a hurricane. She understood that it was after the time the techs got off. She even understood that I was waiting for my own order to evacuate. She just didn’t care. She had no concern for my safety or that of my technician. “You tell him to lash his ass to the pole! I need my internet!” I sat there getting yelled at for 15 minutes until they finally sounded the alarm to leave immediately. I told her I was being evacuated and now no longer had the time to book her a tech for three days out and she would need to call back after normal business resumed which was expected to be in two days’ time.

There are no magic words that get you connected faster than anyone else, and that goes for power, phone, internet, any of it. Everybody’s got little kids, a sick grandmother, this or that which is important to them. When it comes to disaster recovery it is always the goal to bring back the greatest number of people in as short a period of time as possible after essential services are restored. You can beg, plead, threaten, or cajole and it makes not a whit of a difference. If we were to take care of everybody who says they need theirs up first ahead of everybody else then we’d still do it in the same order because everybody says it. We will always fix 1500 people before we will fix 15 because it’s a lot easier to deal with 1485 fewer people being pissed off. Preparation also means making plans to busy yourself while you wait for restoration.

Happy ??

He was a painter; she a writer. He had never heard of ‘Michelangelo’; she could not spell ‘Dante’.

He painted house roofs hanging from scaffolds, she copy-wrote Malayalam documents in a document-writers office; but they made a good pair. Despite the fact that he was a Christian and she a Hindu, they fell in love, ended up marrying and settled down; in a small house in the suburbs. Their 3-year-old daughter, who did not clearly understand why her grandparents never visited them, was still not big enough to understand the depth of religious chasms.

Despite the social boycott, they were content with their world.

Till it shattered.

He presented to the Emergency with sudden onset breathing trouble, medically ‘acute pulmonary edema’ resulting from a hitherto undetected narrowed heart valve (Rheumatic Mitral stenosis).

He was put on a ventilator.

24 hours later he developed a massive cerebral infarct resulting from irregular heart rhythm (atrial fibrillation) destroying about half of his brain.

His EEG showed that the chance of his recovery was remote.

But, we need a relatives written consent to disconnect life support, because technically he was alive.

Vegetative state.

I was the resident in charge, in this large hospital and I would meet his wife daily detailing about his condition. She was a thin young lady with a ‘gymnastic-style’ ear-ring, a rabbit tooth and a kid in tow.

Over time, I explained the futility of continuing treatment; the options of DNR, to disconnect from the ventilator, but she refused consent. With no relatives to support, she was perhaps unable to take a harsh decision; clinging to some hope.

A hope that I knew did not exist.

Days passed, his condition deteriorated, but his heart continued to beat, he continued to ‘live’ on a life support system; the bills were mounting. In a non-Govt. hospital, there was no way to cut down cost.

One day the gymnastic rings were missing; I knew she had sold her jewelry.

A relative of mine, who knew them told me that she is now trying to sell off her small house and plot of land, to finance her husband’s treatment; which I was kind of sure that, is going to be fruitless.

I never prayed that he dies. But I prayed that let the inevitable happen fast; before she could sell whatever little earthly possession the family have.

Think of the paradox – we put people on life support system, but because of legal issues we are not sure how to undo it.

I was on duty that night; he died. I was happy, not because he died; but because his family got a chance to live; still retain a place of their own that they call home. A mother and daughter for whom he would have been ready to give his life.

In a heartless society full of religious chasms.

Man Dies; Meets Higher Beings, Sees Wonders in the Afterlife, & History of the Earth!

I had a best friend. He was originally from Sweden and you could tell he was very easily Swedish by his looks. We were friends for 11 years and maintained constant contact. This was in a different state (I was on vacation)

He did not have the best childhood. His parents were abusive (both from his personal confessions and through unfortanate experience (they were nice to us, but mean to him on the inside). He was also in poverty, but the best thing about him was he was a very nice and cheerful kid.

Well, another side of the story. We were talking on the phone and a loud scream heard from the mic. Subsequently I heard a car crash nearby. It was my birthday and I realized that same car was my friends car. We came to help.

He came out gravely injured. I was really really sad, tears welling up my eyes. The EMD came in and he let me know what happened. I went nuts.

A few days later, he passed away age 11 in the hospital due to a complication after the injury. I was horrified. I was only 13.

The mom wasn’t there during the crash, but the dad and his siblings were killed instantly. After the death of her son. she realized how terrible of a mom she was, and vowed to NEVER abuse any other family member again. She ended up adopted and is a completely different mom now. Rather than spanking, she helps her new son and keeps him well. Sorry, but you’ve already done the damage brother. No apologies given.

A investigation lead to the case being on the news. I found out and was still really saddened by the cause. They said that the crash was a planned attack by a family friend. Cams showed that a middle aged, very pale light blonde-haired woman intentionally was in the other car, trying to act “frightened” to avoid arrest. She was the only occupant. Unfortanately, however the police realized and decided to quickly “interview” her of her actions and she admitted and was arrested on the spot.

The woman was charged with malicious murder and aggravated assault and was sentenced to death row, however she got super lucky and was changed to life in prison.

TLDR: Basically, my friend was allegedly murdered.

Please rest in peace…. Jett.

No, they don’t. They don’t even care that the sanctions against Russia are hurting themselves. Their economic growth had dropped to below 1% on average. Germany, Eurtope’s biggest economy, is on the verge of a recession. The NATO countries in Europe are paying more for their energy needs. They have stopped selling goods to Russia, thereby hurting their own trade. But despite all that, they add more sanctions against Russia.

Russia, meanwhile has benefitted from the sanctions. In 2023, their GDP rose 3.6%. In Q1 2024, their GDP rose 5.4%. They look set to have a high GDP growth in 2024, beating all European countries. This view has been expessed by the IMF.

Russia is now manufacturing most of the products that Europe is no longer selling to them. This has resulted in many factories sprouting across Russia, giving full employment to the Russians. They are looking to bring in more workers from Central Asia and Africa to meet the demand for more factory workers. And this major increase in in-house manufacturing is what has increased Russia’s GDP.

Star Wars A New Hope – 1950s Super Panavision 70 | Runway Gen 3

Well, a Chinese CBG headed by a fujian-class carrier and flanked by type 055 destroyers is a formidable proposition that is the equal or even superior to an American CBG.

That’s an unprecedented development.

The most potent f-35c equipped USN CBG has peer competition, and we are talking 12, 18 months max before the fujian CBG becomes fully operational.

And that’s a worry for a china that already has the production capacity to build 100-150 twin-engine j-35 annually and 1 fujian-class carrier biennially. Ramp-up is not beyond the question either.

The USN has two impending, crippling issues stepping up to the China challenge.

One, the seriously delayed Ford-class program impacting the sustainable size of the supercarrier program. The oldest Nimitz-class hulls will be too expensive to retrofit for f-35c duty while the Ford-class is still riddled with production and operational issues.

Two, the f-35 program running into production snags, such as block software updates, and raw material bottlenecks for sensitive electronics upstream. This will reverberate down to the air wing, particularly crew training and logistic support.

Indopacom’s deployed naval assets will eventually be outnumbered and outclassed by the PLAN, even if the USN commits 100% of deployable assets to the western pacific. We are talking two decades, max, and that includes naval aviation.

The question isn’t what should the USN do but what CAN the USN do.

Even the usn’s nuclear submarine programs are having long-term manufacturing issues that have been filed away.

It appears the USN is pursuing the u-boat wolf pack strategy of the German navy in WWII, massively expanding its attack sub and destroyer fleets.

I say good luck.

Men are Chilling as the World Burns

It is the zero sum game mindset of hegemonists who use finance as their main source of profit.

They know that China is strong, that China’s political system is OK, that there is no genocide in Xinjiang, that China’s camera density is lower than that of UK, that China is not a police country, that Chinese people are not brainless bots, that China didn’t create any virus, that Chinese people do not steal intellectual property rights, and that China does not have expansionism.

But they have to stick to these lies because they believe that China is an obstacle for them to continue maintaining their current affluent income.

That has nothing to do with any non hegemonic country, nor with any civilians. They are just oligarchs of hegemonic countries.

Some people, whether rich or middle class people, fantasize about themselves belonging to hegemonic camp, but no, neither the victory nor failure of hegemonists cannot prevent the decline of any others’ living standards.

Only when they are put down, other people have a chance to survive.

China’s Done With U.S. Semiconductors, Japan Stocks Collapse As “Asian NATO” PM Wins

What is the scariest real life thing that ever happened to you?

My 14 year old daughter was hanging out with a friend in town (small town, should be safe, right?). My husband and I were at a bbq at his sisters, so we called her to let her know we were on our way to pick her up and she screamed at us that she was being chased by a man with a knife.

Did you know that dodge caravans can do 120mph? I do now. We got there at the same time as with the police, which was probably for the best. I’ve never seen my husband so mad, and he’s a hot tempered man to begin with.

My daughter and her friend had been walking along when this guy took offense to what they were wearing. (They were cosplaying.) A couple of older boys (my hero’s) told him to leave them alone, they’re just a couple of kids. Then, when he pulled a knife, they got in between the girls and the maniac and started swinging their skateboards at him to keep him away. My daughter and her friend ran into the Subway, who let them hide in the back until we got there.

The next scariest was only less scary because I wasn’t there when it happened. Same daughter, 5 years later. She called me and told me not to freak out, which is not a good way to start a conversation. She’d been shot in a drive bye shooting. The bullet ricocheted off the brick wall behind her and lodged in her foot. I don’t think I was driving safely that time, either.

The irony of this is if I had to choose a child who would be chased by a knife wielding tweaker or shot in a drive by shooting, it would not be her. She’s always struggled with anxiety and she’s super safety conscious.

We, The Left Behind

Submitted into Contest #232 in response to: Write a story set in a world with a dying sun, or where light is a scarce resource. view prompt

Michelle Oliver

We are the left behind, the ones who didn’t make the cut, the unlucky.When The Arc was created, they said the positions on board would be determined by ballot. Funny how that random selection process took one hundred percent of the rich and famous, the billionaires, the influencers, the celebrities and politicians. Oh, they took others too, the unnamed and unknown. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, all randomly selected. Families were torn apart by the horrible choice, either stay together and die, or separate for a chance at life. My mother chose life, chose her future over me. I was not selected. I was left behind and she went, boarded the huge craft they called The Arc. The chosen few abandoned the Earth with its dying sun, departed for places unknown in the far reaches of space. They said they’d return for us, the ones they left behind. We knew they lied.Then came the Light Stalkers, attracted to the light of the dying sun, like moths to an enormous flame.And we, the left behind, became their prey.****“We need supplies,” Rogue says to those of us gathered in the worn out ruins of an ancient subway. The tunnels provide a safe way to move from place to place. The Light Stalkers can’t follow us down here. “We need to send a scout to the surface.” I don’t know what Rogue had been in his other life. I thought of him as a warrior, like the ancient marines of old. Jesper thought he must have been a teacher, because he knows so much random shit and doesn’t need a computab to assist with recall. It doesn’t matter. You don’t ask questions in the dark.All eyes look at me in the dim light of the glow stone. With Light Stalkers about, you never want to light a place too brightly. The woven basket always sits next to the stone, ready to cover it at a moment’s notice, and plunge our meeting space into darkness.“I’ll go.”It was a semblance of choice, a facsimile of democracy. If I didn’t volunteer, I would be volunteered. I am slight and fast, and I hide in the shadows, moving relatively unseen above ground.“I’ll come too.” At seven, Lillin is technically the youngest of our group.“You can wait for me at the shadow mouth, Lil. I’m faster above ground on my own.” One day I’ll take Lillin with me, it will be good for him to know how to scout and score. If something happens to me and I don’t return from one of my missions to the surface, Lil will need to know what to do. But he is young yet. He doesn’t remember the days before darkness. He has no idea about the horrors that the Light Stalkers can bring. I want to protect that innocence as long as I can. I know Rogue won’t let him be a kid for much longer. Survival trumps innocence.****At the shadow mouth, the entrance to our safe haven, I pause and Lillin hovers at my shoulder.“Lil, your job is to watch the stones,” I tell him as I carefully shove six glow stones into the dull light. They will absorb the weak rays so we can reuse them to light our darkness. “If you see a stalker, retreat, you hear me?” He nods, eyes wide. “You leave those stones and get yourself back into the shadows. I can replace the stones. I can’t replace you.” It is not strictly true. Replacing the stones is risky. They’re not native to earth, so it requires sneaking into a Light Stalker encampment and taking them. That endeavour is a death wish.Cautiously, I exit the safety of the shadow mouth and scamper across the flat expanse of exposed ground, until I reach the shallow overhang opposite. The decaying ruins of the abandoned city provide ample cover and I crawl through the dark, confined spaces formed by walls that have toppled to the ground. I scamper from one pile of rubble to another, short, quick dashes into the dangerous light of the dull red sun that hangs like a pulsating, blood-red wound in the sky.I know what we need. Rogue has planted ancient orange trees nearby. The little schooling I had received in the time before the darkness taught me that the human body needs vitamins to survive, and an important one is VitC. Our bodies need it to fight off disease and infection, so oranges are a staple of our diet. Each year, Rogue and I also plant leafy greens and vine growing beans in scattered places throughout the ruined city. My job is to harvest enough for us to survive for the next few weeks and replant to ensure that there will be food for us in the future. Never take more than you need.I’ll go get the oranges first. That’s the most dangerous part of the mission as the trees grow in the full sun. Although our dying sun is not hot, it’s relentless. Once there had been day and night, but it’s been thousands of years since anyone experienced the phenomenon. Over the last few millennia, the sun expanded in its dying throws, and its size impacted Earth’s gravitational field. The North Pole had been pulled toward the full sun, leaving the South Pole in eternal darkness. Sometimes, Rogue and I would dream of walking to the other side of the world, the dark side, where the stalkers wouldn’t come. But nothing would grow without sunlight and we’d starve to death there. Not to mention that the other side of the world is forever away.The orange grove is around the next corner and I approach with increased caution as I crawl between two walls that have toppled over to form a low tunnel full of lichen and scurrying rodents. The soil here is damp and loamy, pungent with rotting vegetation and excrement. Before the Light Stalkers came, we would use it to fuel our fires, and a small amount would burn for a long time. I scoop up handfuls of the mud and fill my pockets. It’s a precaution that Rogue taught me.At the end of the tunnel, I know I am going to have to run and I prepare myself, check that my satchel is firmly on my shoulder and that my pockets are full. I spend a few moments just watching, searching for any movement, any unusual disturbances. As far as I can tell, it’s safe, but I don’t linger. I dash towards the first tree and huddle for safety beneath its branches. Still safe. I begin to gather the oranges, carefully placing them inside my satchel.When I get to the fourth tree, I hear it, the sibilant hiss that sparks terror in my soul. Silently, I scale the tree, as my heart pounds against my ribs, and hope that the shadows of the branches will be enough to hide me. The stalker walks upright in the sunlight. Bronze scaled skin reflects the cool red light, and the glow stones embedded in the straps that pass for clothing on this creature, glimmer warmer than the sun’s feeble light.The stalker is a bipedal creature with long arms ending in hands that have six multi jointed digits. If one of those hands grabs you, you’re done for. It’ll feed on you, suck the moisture from your entire body, leaving you a dried up husk of a human. They’re unshakable, the best idea is to stay well away from them. The second best idea is to lure them into the shade. They are creatures of sunlight and I’ve seen first hand the intense reaction they have to the shadows.This Stalker has excellent hearing. It turns its head slightly, and I freeze, holding my breath lest it hear me. I wonder if it can hear the ferocious pounding of my heart? There’s nothing I can do about it. My whole body is shaking with each beat. Dark eyes glint in the sunlight as it peers through the branches and then it chitters, a sound I have never heard before. Usually they hiss. I know that it can see me, its eyes are fixed on my hiding spot and I tense my muscles, ready to leap from the tree and run.Another hissing sound pierces the silence, and I see a second stalker shuffling this way. It hisses at the first one and both turn their heads toward the branches where I am hiding. Shit, I’m dead. Outrunning one stalker is one thing, avoiding two is impossible, but I refuse to give in. I will go down fighting. I feel the mud in my pocket. It’s not much, but it will have to do, because I’m dead anyway.

The second stalker steps into the shade beneath my tree. The glowing stones on its body illuminate the darkness, chasing the safety of my shadows away. I wait, not wanting to waste this chance by reacting too soon. Reaching into my pocket, I take careful aim—I will only get one shot at this. With everything that I have, I lob a handful of mud and silently rejoice to see it hit home, covering one of the glow stones on the creature’s shoulder. Instantly, the air around the stalker dims, and it wails as smoke sizzles from its body, while it flaps its arms urgently, trying to slap the mud away. Another shot, another glow stone covered in mud and the light is quenched. The creature screams, disoriented by pain as the fire consumes it, then collapses face first, before it can reach the safety of sunlight, writhing in agony.

I turn my attention to the other stalker. It looks from me to its companion, then quickly plucks two oranges from the tree and throws them at its fallen friend. The oranges hit the mark, covering over the remaining glow stones on the creature’s back, stifling the light and ensuring the stalker’s immediate death in flaming, orange scented smoke. Perhaps it was a compassionate move, like putting an animal out of its misery, but somehow I don’t think so.

The remaining stalker plucks another orange, looks through the branches, and gently tosses it to me. I fumble the catch. With another strange noise, the stalker rips one of the glow stones from the strap on its chest and tosses it up to me. This time I don’t fumble, and I grasp the precious stone with two hands. It nods to me, then at the charred remains of its fallen companion while pointing to its own stones. Cautiously, I clamber down the tree and edge toward the corpse, my eyes not leaving the stalker for one minute. I reach into my pocket for the last handful of mud, ready to hurl it should this remaining stalker make a single movement towards the shadows. It doesn’t move, standing perfectly still, watching me as cautiously as I watch it.

On trembling legs, I step nearer to the smoking corpse. The smell is dreadful, a charred, swampy stench tinged with burnt orange, that causes my eyes to water. I blink rapidly, determined not to lose sight of my enemy. Trying not to breathe in through my nose, I rummage through the charred remains to locate the four stones, two on the front of the corpse and two on the back. When I have them, I stand and search the face of the remaining stalker for any indication of what it is about to do. It’s hard to read the expressions on the reptilian face. The creature barely even blinks.

I hold a glow stone out toward it like an offering and it is then that I notice a change in expression. The mouth quirks up in the corner. Did it just smile? It gestures to its own stone, then points at me and chitters. I point to the stone in my hand, then point to myself and it tips its head. Did it just nod? I feel lightheaded. Have I just communicated with an alien?

It turns its back on me and walks back the way it came, so I use the opportunity to scurry away, silently slipping from shadow to shadow, all the way back to the mouth of our safe haven. Lil is waiting there for me, hiding in the shadows.

“Were you successful?” he asks.

“I think so.” I hand him an orange as I gather up the glow stones that we had left out to charge in the sun.

We, the left behind, may be the only humans left on Earth, but we aren’t the only people here. Now the question is, what are we going to do about it?

25 Missing Kids Discovered Behind Secret Door

https://youtu.be/joJwqdCGVYs

Philly Cheesesteak Stuffed Peppers

philly cheesecake stuffed peppers
philly cheesecake stuffed peppers

Ingredients

  • 1 pound bottom round steak, thinly sliced
  • 2 bell peppers, halved and cored
  • Avocado oil
  • Bell peppers, sliced thinly
  • Red onion, sliced thinly
  • White onion, sliced thinly
  • Pickled jalapeños, chopped
  • 1/2 pound Monterey Jack cheese, shredded
  • Onion salt
  • Sea salt
  • Pepper

Instructions

  1. Heat oven 350 degrees F.
  2. Drizzle avocado oil on bell papers. Bake for 17 to 20 minutes.
  3. Heat a large frying pan over medium high and add a little avocado oil.
  4. Season steak with onion salt, sea salt and pepper. Sear each side of steak for about 1 to 2 minutes and remove to let rest a couple minutes.
  5. Cut steak into small 1/4 to 3/8 inch square pieces.
  6. Heat a frying pan over medium heat and add avocado oil when warm.
  7. Add thinly sliced onions and bell peppers to pan and cook while stirring often for about 10 minutes.
  8. Mix steak, cheese, bell peppers, onions and jalapeños in a bowl.
  9. Fill bell peppers, then bake for 10 minutes until cheese is melted.

Wife’s Use Of Social Media To Cheat FINALLY Halted After Hubby Grows A Pair, Leaves Her No Alimony

Story Time

Well, explain to me what it was doing on the tree if I wasn’t meant to eat it?I had a long, hard day, Adam. If you remember correctly, you were supposed to name all the animals with tails, while I handled the green ones. The next thing I know, you’re passed out by the water circle taking yet another one of your naps. That left me to come up with all those names, and by the time I was done, I was famished.The apple tree is the closest to the water hole, and that’s why I picked an apple. It was convenient. I wasn’t deliberately trying to disobey the Lord. After an exhausting day, I simply wanted whichever fruit I could get to first. Can you explain to me why God put the forbidden fruit so close to us and made it so red to draw our attention to it, and made it so tasty? Adam, if you could try an apple, you would never be the same. I cannot describe its delectability.You may as well try one now. We’ve already been cast out. It’s not as though He’s going to cast us out again. If you ask me, it’s unbelievably rude of Him to have us name every living creature on earth, put all the acceptable fruit out of reach, and then kick us out of the Garden once all the tedious tasks are completed. He didn’t even say “Thank you!” Not even a card expressing his thanks. I realize cards haven’t been invented yet, but if He can create an entire Universe in a few days, I think he can figure out a way to show gratitude, don’t you?Oh, stop crying, Adam. This place isn’t so bad. Sure, it isn’t Paradise, but there are some plants with needles sticking out of them and some lovely dust and a lot of very interesting rocks. That one looks sharp. Be sure to never pick it up and drop it on anybody’s head. Please cover yourself up. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I can’t stand the sight of you in all your nakedness.Shame? What’s that? No, you know I don’t listen when He talks. It’s so loud and condescending. Do this, do that. Name this, worship me, “Stop rolling your eyes at me, Eve, or I’ll turn you back into a rib”–It’s all so boring. If any of it were all that vital to know, he’d write it down on a piece of stone. I suggested that to him once, and he pretended it was a bad recommendation, but secretly, I think he filed it away to use at a later date. The first time I see a rock with a rule on it, I’m going to look up at the sky, and say “Wow, who gave you that idea?” See if I don’t.I’m not afraid of Him, you know. You might be, but I’m not. I’ve barely had time to contemplate my own existence, so the threat of having my existence nullified is of no concern to me. Clearly, He doesn’t want to get rid of us and start from scratch, or He would have done it already. No, he wants to teach us a lesson. He wants us to wander aimlessly for the remainder of our lives cloaked in this thing called shame. I shall not. I refuse. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and I will not pretend that I do. A man makes a silly rule, and if the rule is broken, that does not make it any less silly. I don’t care what sort of man it is. I don’t care if you say God is not simply a man. He sounds like a man, and because he can sound any way he likes, that means he wants to sound like a man. We call Him “He,” don’t we? Then he is a man with made-up rules for living that I was never going to obey.I don’t care if He hears me. Let him hear me. I am meant to spend the rest of my days surrounded by needle-plants and you, a man with one rib. I am meant to wear rags, because not wearing them makes me feel strange. I am meant to have children, I suppose. Based on how disagreeable I am and how stupid you are, I can’t imagine they’ll be very endearing children. Once those children are here, I have no idea who they’ll have children with, because it’ll just be us. I guess that means once we die, and our children die, that’ll be the end of this nonsensical little experiment.Oh, but at least we named the giraffes first.A question for you, Adam, since He isn’t responding to us–Why are we the only ones who can’t eat the apples?I specifically saw a Loud-Bird eating an apple the other day. Why weren’t all the Loud-Birds cast out of the Garden? If a giraffe eats an apple, will it be thrown out of the garden? Why were we the only ones prohibited?

 

Right–the knowledge.

 

We’re not meant to know anything. We’re just meant to assign names, be fruitful, multiply, and praise Him every chance we get. If we want knowledge, then it’s out we go.

 

Well, Adam, I choose to know. I choose to know things. Not just some things, but everything. Why create an entire world and then tell me I’m not allowed to know anything about it? I can’t help but feel this was all some kind of test, and I will not be tested. Had I known that he was testing me, I would have eaten every apple on that tree. I would have stared up at Him with the seeds falling out of my mouth, and I would have laughed. For if I am to go into Exile, I am not going with an empty stomach. I will go with a belly full of apples.

 

My only regret is that I stopped at one.

 

I will not feel badly about you being punished for something I did either, because I have been punished many times over for you. For your laziness. For your superiority complex. For the way you smell at night when you are pressed up against me. It reeks so that I can barely sleep. Yet I have said nothing, because I have accepted that we are joined forever. You make strange noises in your sleep, but He never punished you for that. I took one bite, and we are damned. Be angry if you like, Adam, but do not expect me to worry myself over your anger. Your anger is your business. I will not make it mine.

 

Last night, before He woke us with our punishment, I had a dream. I had a dream that all of this was submerged in water. Enough water to cover even the tops of the tallest trees. There were more people. Lots more. They were running and screaming. Some were already drowned. In the distance, I could see a large boat, but it was too far away. I would never reach it in time. I would die alongside all these strangers.

 

Instead, I lay myself down. I began to float. Right up to the surface. I could still hear the wailing and the pleading all around me, but I was not making a sound. I simply laid like that on the surface of the water and let it take me wherever it wanted to go.

 

Many of them came to the US and Canada. MANY of them.

When we moved into our new house in a new suburb, it seemed like most living there were either German, and those saying they were Dutch but were possibly German.

I was eight and friends with a girl named Elvira. Yes, that was her name, like the song. She told me her dad used to be in the German Army. Looking at him, I believe he was. He also sounded like one.

There was a boy named Ernest, very blonde hair and my age. He lived in a fairly modern house built along the River. He was in my class. He was German. I figured his dad must have been in the German Army in WWII. We sometimes played together. I never asked him though.

There was an another boy at school named Klaus. He told us that his dad was in the German Army in WWII and fought in Holland. My dad fought as an infantryman in Italy.

One day Klaus and I got into a fight at school. I remember kids standing around us cheering us on. I remember stupidly thinking that I had to beat him because his dad was in the German Army.

At home at the dinner table I told my parents what happened and that I felt had to beat Klaus in a fight because he was a German.

“Why the fight?” Dad asked.

“He told us that his father said the German soldier was tougher than the Allied soldiers. And I said to him, ‘Yeah, that’s why the Germans lost right?’ Then he came and pushed me. We started fighting.”

“They WERE tough. Very tough,” dad said. “I didn’t bring you up to be like that son. The wars over. His dad was more likely a regular German soldier, an infantryman like I was and just doing his job probably because he had no choice. He’s moved here with his family to start a new life. Klaus is not the enemy. He’s a schoolmate. He had nothing to do with the war

“Well it seems we’re surrounded dad,” I said.

Dad laughed. Then he said, “They’re our neighbors now. Let’s treat them like neighbors.”

Oddly enough Klaus and I got to be friends. One day I went to his house. We walked into the kitchen and his dad was there. His dad looked just like any other dad. He looked at us and smiled.

“Ah, you are hungry maybe,” he said. He took two dark pieces of bread and put a lot of butter on them. He gave us both a slice of buttered bread. Then he said, “Ach, warten!” He went into the cupboard and took out a chocolate bar and broke it in half giving us each a piece.”

That was the best tasting snack ever. I realized his dad was just like mine and dad was probably right.

I once tracked all our expenses down to the penny for an entire year.

It was a few years after my husband and I had graduated from college. We did a startup right out of college and we had ruined our credit by financing a number of things for the business using our personal credit.

We had closed our startup a few months prior and joined a company. We were making a good salary, but we still had a bunch of credit card debt, and our credit score was not the best.

I calculated that between the two of us, we were paying between $70 to $130 more a month for our car loans than we would if could get the best rate.

At the time, I was also starting to think about saving for a home. The rental rates where we lived were quite high, and I calculated that if we could get together a down payment, we would be able to purchase a home and pay only a little more per month for the mortgage than we were paying for rent.

That is, if we could save enough for the down payment, and if we had a perfect credit score.

With our credit score at the time, the same mortgage would cost us several hundred dollars more per month.

Our bad credit was already costing us money, and would only cost us more in the future. I was super motivated to fix our credit.

I knew we had to get rid of all our credit card debt, and get out of the habit of carrying a balance at all.

I sat down and drew up a spreadsheet of all the things we normally spent money on, using our bank and credit card statements for the previous months as a starting point.

I created categories for our expenditures, slotting everything we were spending into those categories. Rent, utilities, groceries, car loan, insurance, repairs and maintenance, eating out, cell phones, internet, entertainment, gifts, vacations…

I didn’t leave anything out. Anything that didn’t fit neatly into a category went into a miscellaneous bucket.

I then analyzed the spreadsheet and made a plan of where we could cut our expenses. When I was ready, I sat down with my husband. Together, we agreed on what we should be spending in each category.

Then we put our plan into action.

We started by canceling and cutting out everything we agreed to.

We got rid of some subscriptions we were rarely using. We stopped buying beverages out and starting toting around water bottles that we filled at home. When we wanted soft drinks or snacks, we purchased them in bulk at the grocery store. Since we had slashed our eating out budget, I started to cook more often.

For several weeks, I entered our expenditures into the spreadsheet every single night. When I was sure we were sticking to our plan, I started entering things once a week, then once every month.

For a whole year, every single item got tracked. We weren’t allowed to buy a single pack of gum without logging it into the spreadsheet. I even logged the 50 cents I gave to an occasional homeless person.

Little by little, we paid off our credit card debt. After a few months, it became second nature for us to be aware of how things added up. After a year, I was comfortable that we had formed good long term habits, and I finally stopped logging things into the spreadsheet.

Over time, our credit score improved. I’m happy to say, it’s been over 15 years, and we haven’t slipped since.

U.S. Hurricane Survivors Without Electric; Biden Gave Transformers and Switching gear to UKRAINE!

Electric transformers large
Electric transformers large

Hundreds-of-thousands of Americans presently without electricity from Hurricane Helene, may not see their electric power restored soon because the Biden Administration GAVE spare transformers and switching gear to . . .  UKRAINE!

While all electric utility companies in the US keep spare pole transformers in supply locally, there is a national reserve of such transformers for situations like Hurricanes, where hundreds or even thousands of such devices need replacing.

But that reserve is now gone because the Biden administration gave the gear to Ukraine, to restore _their_ electric grid after the Russia-Ukraine conflict destroyed it.

Now that Americans find themselves in need of those electrical transformers, there are few (if any) to be had.

Once again Americans are being harmed by a federal government that galivants around the world, meddling in the affairs of others, instead of working for the American people who actually employ them.

Election day is coming.  Throw out the people who did this.

A Particular Set of Skills | Taken (2008) Realtime Movie Reactions

Pro China?

I just came across a China bashing post that garnered 8k upvotes in less than 24 hours.

Jean Marie Valheur’s answer to What people make you ashamed to be a human being?

It will be hard for any pro China answer to hit 800 upvotes in a week or two, much less 10x that in a day. What do you expect on an English platform owned by Americans? That Chinese voices will become louder and more numerous than “freedom toting” Westerners?

Totally unrealistic.

There are plenty of negative political statements dressed as questions on China stating half truths or even lies as fact.

I’d say there is heavy anti-Chinese sentiment supported on Quora, if anything.

Only in one sense: How well does their democracy improve the quality of life of their citizens?

They have different models of democracy based on different philosophies. So the mechanics of their systems cannot be compared.

In terms of how well they serve their people, we may come to two conclusions:

  1. Chinese democracy has greatly improved the lives of the people.
  2. Western democracy, esp. in America, Britain, France and Germany, for example, has neglected the well-being of the people.

Which would you prefer?

How is it that docile farm raised pigs when let into the wild become such aggressive wild boars?

Well… when I was majoring in Animal Science, we took classes in Swine Production and worked hands-on with the pigs at the Cal Poly Pomona swine unit.

We did things like weigh adult and suckling pigs, measure back fat thickness, spray for lice (!), castrate and ear-notch young pigs, help restrain young boars so their tushes (look it up) could be cut.

Domestic pigs are NOT, repeat, NOT docile! Especially sows with suckling babies. If you have to handle the babies, you better have a couple people to stave mama pig off while you handle the screaming baby. Or you better be awfully quick on your feet to put a fence between you and mama pig.

(Pigs vocalize LOUDLY when you’re handling them. Measuring back fat thickness on live hogs, you’re exposed to a noise level that makes the up-close takeoff of a jet aircraft seem a whisper by comparison.)

One of the guys who worked at the swine center got into a situation handling some market-sized hogs where he was in a corner and couldn’t get out fast enough over the fence. He got a bite on the leg that took more than 40 stitches to close.

No, domesticated pigs are not automatically docile.

That said, if they’re handled regularly from a young age, pigs can be manageable. 4-H kids and Future Farmer teens are expected to be able to show their pigs in livestock shows and fairs using nothing but a cane to manage the pig’s movements while the judging is done.

Here’s the thing about domestic pigs: they’re SMART. That’s why, if they become feral, they manage very well for themselves, thank you very much!

Having handled farm hogs, I have to say they’re my least favorite farm animal to handle: they’re big (a mature boar can be over 1000 pounds, and contrary to the image pigs have as fat animals, most of their soft-tissue weight is muscle; market hogs are 250 to 400 pounds; sows are 400 to 700 pounds). They can move very, very fast, they’re agile and athletic, and they aren’t afraid of people. They have a mouth full of teeth that would shame a pit bull and if their tushes haven’t been cut, they can slash you with a sideways move of their head.

Pigs take readily to shifting for themselves. Domestic pigs may be habituated to having humans around, but I sure wouldn’t consider them docile.

This is ancient history, but it resonates so clearly for me, with an outraged complainer ignoring the reality of her surroundings demanding immediate attention to whatever problem she wanted fixed.

Shortly after I graduated from nursing school in 1982, I was a 3–11pm shift charge nurse on a medical surgical unit.

One of our patients who was being evaluated for the tumor in his brain was walking down the hallway carrying a metal ice water pitcher and his glass drinking glass.

As I saw him walking towards me, he fell to the ground, ice and broken glass everywhere, in a full grand Mal seizure. (His first).

As I was kneeling in the glass ,in my dress uniform and pantyhose, making sure his airway was open, that he didn’t bite his tongue, making sure he’d had no injury due to the fall/broken glass, etc.

I feel a firm hand tapping on my back…”Miss.then MISS! My husband is out of Kleenex!!!”

The story behind how America adopted High Fructose Corn Syrup (HFCS) is long and involved, but far more interesting than you might think. Buckle up!

In 1973 there was an oil crisis when OPEC jacked up prices driving America into recession. Policy makers were seriously alarmed and decided the US had to cut its dependence on foreign oil immediately. One suggestion was shifting to gasohol, a mix of gasoline and ethyl alcohol.

Ethyl alcohol can be made from corn; Archer Daniels Midland the company responsible for most of America’s corn harvest absolutely loved this means to sell more corn and invested in many factories to turn corn into ethyl alcohol. Now gasohol makes sense when gas prices are high, but when they are low there is no market, so when gas prices dropped again, ADM was stuck with these idle factories and no idea what to do with them.

The ADM brain trust put its mind to the problem and realized the factories could be repurposed to produce this cool new sweetener discovered less than ten years earlier called high fructose corn syrup. Fantastic! There was only one problem. Sugar was cheaper than the cost to produce HFCS. How could they make a profit?

ADM was nothing if not determined. If you cant make your product any cheaper, what if the price of sugar could be increased? Sugar was cheap because foreign sugar manufacturers produced it cheaply and then dumped their supply in the US. There was a tiny American sugar industry but it was small and feeble because American sugar was more expensive to produce than the cheap foreign sugar.

ADM approached those American sugar growers to discuss this unfair competition. Out of the goodness of their corporate heart they offered their lobbyists to get congress to vote for a large sugar tariff to protect our “strategic” American sugar producers. Congress duly obliged, a huge tariff on foreign sugar went in place, and the price of sugar skyrocketed. God bless America! It was a great day to be an American sugar producer!

Unfortunately, it was an even better day to be an enormous agricultural corporation with a vast untapped ability to produce HFCS. With sugar prices about to become sky high, ADM secretly negotiated contracts to supply Coca-Cola, Pepsi, General Mills, McDonald’s and every other processed food manufacturer with HFCS. When the tariff went into effect, American sugar manufacturers found they had traded one shaft for another.

And that is how in one stroke one company changed the American food supply to the tune of $5+ billion annually.

9-Year-Old Boy Shares His REINCARNATION CASE From Hungary in 1930

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Will

Do you still believe in the Deagel Forecast? Will 2025 be disastrous for the West?

Will

the numbers in that forecast are absolutely insane. Let’s hope the reality is different.

Apostolos

Hi MM and all reading this blog,

“Forecasts” like that of Deagel, “wishful thinking” like the one mentioned in Georgia stones and elsewhere and self-fulfilling prophesies are all just hidden in plain view revelations of the plans designed by the “invisible” elite governing almost all.

So unless a miscalculation or glitch or decisive Act of God occurs, sadly rest fully assured that the execution of the plan (killing spree) will go ahead as planned starting this very year.

And in Orthodoxy “invisible enemy” is only Lucifer and the rest of his fallen angels acting through humans willing to submit their free will to their service.

ANTI

Here is a very extreme case about how doing/experiencing bad things can lead to greater goods.

Meet Queen Casey, the Queen Bee/Gigastacy of the first RP site I was on as an adult: RPHaven. I met her in 2011 back when I was looking to write with Big Titted Women for my guys to snuggle up against and pampered. If I were to describe her briefly, she comes off as a Borg Queen, and I was like Seven of Nine: enamored, captivated, and amazed by her massive ego, fancy use of words, and viciously cutthroat demeanor.

<img src=”https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8b/de/37/8bde37f9c2efbbf38de191df564300f8.jpg” />

I wanted to write with her because her friend, Sarah, told me about her, but A. I did not like her being so supercilious towards me for whatever reason and B. I was still fresh out of the DJHives’ cult, meaning I was instinctually misogynistic and tried to manipulate her by subconsciously using Hives’ manipulation tactics. It didn’t work. She told me off in June by saying that our chances for play were near zilch, and I should not bother to Run a race that I cannot win.

Despite being shattalk and rejected many times on RPH, for whatever reason, her rejection was brutal enough to make me quit the site altogether in favor of trying to develop a business/practice magic or yoga. From that day forward, she and her nasty rejection took permanent residence in my head: eclipsing everything else.

So much so, that even after I sound WSW’s frontend site and got inducted, I went back to RPH because I missed her and also the community (even if they are just like a Borg Unimatrix).Because I could not get her out of my head, I wanted to get tit-for-tat revenge on her by bruising her ego back: and to do that, I wanted to be a success in life.

I met James the Nazi in 2013, and I decided to use him to practice my Game/Rizz in preparation for confronting Queen Casey. We talked about magic, reincanation, demonology, freaky anomalies in Earth’s design, and he was hooked. He was so enamored by me that he would end up initiating me into an ancient Nazi-Magi cult called The Secret Kings in 2016 (nobody else on RPH or any RP venue would have succeeded if they tried the same).

And in 2016, when my obsessive thoughts of her and her clique had reached a boiling point (I was ready to kill everyone on Earth out of spite towards her, I was that obsessed). I confronted her on my OOC Profile:and stickied a bunch of freaky secret profiles that contained secret WSW information to her. She dismissed it all as shit, and then she had her clique dogpile and crucify me. During this, one of my newfound RP partners at the time: Danial Henegar, revealed to me that he is a 33rd degree Freemason.He read through my OOC profile and communed with his masonic lodge, confirming that I am legit. So while the woman who I tried to get revenge on gave me 500 lashes in front of the RP community, Daniel gave me affirming information about how I could safely open the Ark of The Covenant, how he comes from Merlin’s lineage (he has Merlin’s beard), he inspired the creation of Sans from Undertale (because Toby Fox, another freemason, heard about Daniel and his exploits). And eventually, we started planning to start an insurrection in the USA so that I could rule as president after making Trump into a sacrificial lamb.

This all started because Queen Casey did to me what she did to 1000s of simps and beta males through her time on RPH: truculently reject me in a scathing manner, and like a freaky incel-stalker, I never got over it.(She still resides rent-free in my head, and nobody in WSW will explicate or remedy my obsession with her).

That being said, I neglected to take advantage of being a Secret King or honorary Freemason. At the end of the day, both of these big names were mere practice for an RP Queen-Bitch. With what I learned from WSW, I knew better than to expect anything good from either of these two guys or the organizations they come from.

<img src=”https://media.moddb.com/cache/images/members/1/643/642875/thumb_620x2000/Borg_Queens_vessel_interior.jpg” />

Do not follow my example, I almost doomed our sentinence nursery to a fate WORSE than armaggedon because of my vengeful tendencies towards a stuck-up woman on an RP Site: and as cool and fictitious as it sounds, it’s not something you want to experience firsthand.

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