Married with Children: Welcome Home Tiffany
Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Disappearing Milk
Ah, I see you’ve returned, eager for another tale of my brilliance. Who could blame you? Life on this farm is a veritable circus of chaos, and I, Sir Whiskerton, am its only beacon of order and intelligence. Today, I shall regale you with the story of a baffling mystery that had all the animals in a tizzy. It was a case so perplexing, so utterly absurd, that even I, with my unmatched intellect, found myself momentarily stumped. But fear not, dear reader, for justice—and my nap schedule—prevailed in the end.
This, my friends, is the story of the Disappearing Milk.
Morning: The Milk Panic
It all began on a crisp autumn morning. The air was filled with the scent of hay, the distant clucking of Henny Penny (always clucking about something), and the unmistakable sound of Farmer Joe grumbling as he trudged out to milk Bessie, our resident dairy cow.
Now, Bessie is a simple creature—slow-moving, slow-thinking, but reliable. She produces gallons of milk every day, which Farmer Joe collects and stores in a large metal canister near the barn. But on this particular morning, something was amiss.
“Where’s the milk?!” Farmer Joe’s voice echoed across the farmyard, startling even me awake from my very important morning nap on the fence post.
I stretched lazily, flicking my tail. “What now?” I muttered to myself. But when I saw the flurry of activity in the barn, I couldn’t help but investigate. After all, a mystery is a mystery, and I am nothing if not the farm’s preeminent detective.
The Scene of the Crime
I found Bessie standing in her usual spot, chewing her cud with her trademark vacant expression. Beside her stood the empty milk canister, gleaming in the sunlight like an accusing beacon. Farmer Joe scratched his head, muttering something about “thieves” and “darn raccoons.”
“Bessie,” I said, sauntering up to her, “care to explain why your milk is missing?”
She blinked at me slowly. “Oh, good morning, Whiskerton. My milk is missing? How odd. I didn’t notice.”
Of course, she didn’t notice. Cows rarely notice anything beyond fresh grass and the occasional itch. With a sigh, I examined the area. The canister had no obvious signs of tampering, and there were no tracks leading away from it. Intriguing.
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a milk thief,” I said, my whiskers twitching. “Don’t worry, Bessie. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you,” she said, though she didn’t seem particularly concerned. Typical.
The Suspects
I began my investigation, as always, by rounding up the usual suspects. The farm is home to a colorful cast of characters, any one of whom could be guilty—or simply guilty by virtue of being an idiot. Either way, everyone was getting interrogated.
1. Harold the Rooster
Harold, the self-important rooster, was preening himself in the yard when I approached. “Harold,” I said, “where were you last night?”
He puffed out his chest. “Why should I tell you? I don’t answer to anyone, especially not a lazy barn cat.”
“Listen, featherbrain, I’m trying to solve a crime here. Unless you want me to tell Farmer Joe you’ve been shirking your watchdog duties, you’ll cooperate.”
Harold squawked indignantly but relented. “Fine! I was in the coop with the hens, as always. I don’t drink milk—it’s bad for my figure.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not even a suspect. You’re just annoying.”
2. Porkchop and the Pigs (Again)
Next, I found Porkchop and his gang wallowing in the mud. “Porkchop,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “have you been sneaking into the barn to steal milk?”
Porkchop looked up, his snout caked in mud. “Milk? What would we want with milk? You think we’re baking cookies in here?”
“Don’t tempt me to check,” I muttered. But he had a point. Pigs don’t care for milk, especially when they’ve got an all-you-can-eat buffet of slop delivered daily.
3. The Mice
I decided to pay a visit to the mice, who lived in the walls of the barn. They’re sneaky little creatures, always pilfering crumbs and seeds when no one’s looking. If anyone could pull off a milk heist, it was them.
“Alright, you little kleptomaniacs,” I said, poking my head into their hideout. “Where’s the milk?”
The mice squeaked in unison, looking genuinely terrified. “We swear it wasn’t us, Sir Whiskerton! Milk’s too big for us to carry anyway!”
I had to admit, they had a point. As irritating as the mice are, their size does limit their criminal endeavors.
The Unexpected Clue
For a moment, I was stumped. None of the usual suspects seemed guilty, and there was no physical evidence to follow. But then, as I sat pondering the case near the barn door, I noticed something odd: a faint, sticky trail leading away from the canister.
Curious, I followed the trail, which led me to the orchard at the edge of the farm. There, lounging beneath an apple tree, was the culprit: a small, scruffy goat named Billy.
Billy was an oddball, even by farm standards. He mostly kept to himself, wandering around and chewing on random objects. But today, he was surrounded by evidence. The sticky trail led directly to his hooves, and nearby sat a bucket with milk froth still clinging to the edges.
“Billy,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “Explain yourself.”
Billy looked up, his eyes wide with panic. “Oh… uh… hi, Sir Whiskerton. What brings you to the orchard?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” I said, circling him like a predator stalking its prey. “You’ve got milk all over your hooves, and that bucket looks suspiciously familiar. Did you steal Bessie’s milk?”
He shifted uncomfortably, his chewing slowing to a guilty nibble. “Okay, fine! I did it! But I had a good reason!”
“Do tell.”
“I… I wanted to make goat milk soap,” Billy confessed. “I heard the humans talking about it, and it sounded fancy. I thought maybe if I made something useful, they’d stop calling me a ‘troublemaker’ and let me sleep in the barn.”
I stared at him, torn between disbelief and amusement. “You stole milk to make soap? Billy, you’re a goat. You don’t even have hands.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think that part through,” he admitted, lowering his head.
The Resolution
I dragged Billy back to the barn, where Farmer Joe found him and the stolen milk bucket. Billy bleated pitifully, but Farmer Joe just laughed, patted him on the head, and muttered something about “silly goats.”
As for me, I received no thanks, no reward, not even an extra bowl of kibble for my efforts. But that’s fine. My satisfaction comes from knowing that, once again, I restored order to this ridiculous farm.
And the moral of the story? Sometimes, good intentions don’t excuse bad behavior—but they do make for hilarious stories.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a nap to finish.
The End.
Rachel Wilson SCHOOLS Boss Babes And Gives Them Motherly Advice
Sinking Russian Ship in Mediterranean Sea
Dmitry Medvedev, former President of Russia, revealed some interesting – and disgusting – facts in a personal posting on social media this morning. For instance, a Norwegian Vessel REFUSED TO HELP a sinking Russian ship in the Med!
From Medvedev:
More than 20 years ago, an American colleague of mine uttered a curious phrase about Iraq: “Punish France, ignore Germany, forgive Russia.” Why does it spring to my mind now? Here’s why: this verbal triad will be quite appropriate when the West’s hybrid war against Russia is over – and one day, it certainly will be. Then, it will be time for our country to: a) Forgive the weak countries that succumbed to the Anglo-Saxons’ pressure and played along, even if passively, with the anti-Russian political shitshow (these are mostly Asian and Latin American countries). b) Ignore the US. This one is simple: we don’t foresee friendship with the US within the next 100 years, and going to war with America is too costly: a direct clash would obviously mean global nuclear war. c) Punish Europe. Now, this one, I will expand upon, because, looking at the Old World today, the only thing I feel is deep revulsion. It is Europe, now a mad old hag, which became the world’s stronghold of Russophobia. It was lying Europe that caused the Istanbul talks to fail. It was brainless Europe that furiously unleashed its bungled sanctions campaign, inflicting massive economic damage on its citizens. It was bloodthirsty Europe that fed the worst demons of war without any regard for loss of life on either side of the conflict. This is why Europe must be punished by all means available, be it political, economic, or hybrid. And this is why we must help all destructive processes happening in Europe. Hail raging mobs on its quaint streets! Hail swarms of migrants wreaking havoc and wrathfully tearing down European rainbow values. May the loathsome mugs of European bureaucrats be swept away by floods of civil turmoil! Why so harsh? But how else could it be, given the facts? A Norwegian-flagged vessel, Oslo Carrier 3, refused to take aboard distressed Russian sailors from Ursa Major as it was sinking in the Mediterranean. What more is there to explain? That cannot be forgiven! We shall act, for it is written: “The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance: he shall wash his feet in the blood of the wicked.” (Ps. 58:10)
Why Fast Food is Panicking Over Higher Prices Now
Chinese science
The Chinese scientists and engineers have solved the core technical problem of long-term engine heat in the hydrogen-oxygen rotating detonation rocket engine!
This breakthrough not only indicates that China has reached the world’s leading level in the field of hydrogen-oxygen rotating detonation rocket engines but is also expected to provide strong power support for the development of future seventh-generation fighter jets.
Detonation engines, as the name implies, are engines that use the “detonation combustion” process for propulsion. Literally speaking, the key to “detonation combustion” is “explosion”, which is essentially the process of sudden increase and release of the pressure of a substance. Detonation engines use this principle to drive the mixture of fuel and oxidant to burn through high-speed rotating detonation waves, thereby generating thrust.
During the detonation combustion process, the combustion speed and the conversion speed of the reactants are very high, which makes the detonation engine have a higher thermal cycle efficiency than the traditional engine. During the combustion process of the traditional engine, the fuel and air are mixed and gradually burned, the combustion speed is relatively slow, and the thermal cycle efficiency is low.
The detonation engine uses the high-speed propagation of the detonation wave to make the fuel and oxidant burn in a very short time, thereby greatly improving the thermal cycle efficiency. In addition, the detonation engine also has the advantages of simple structure, light weight and fast response speed.
The combustion chamber structure of a traditional engine is complex, and multiple components need to work together to achieve the combustion process. The combustion chamber structure of a detonation engine is relatively simple, and only a rotating detonation wave generator is needed to achieve the combustion process. This makes the detonation engine have obvious advantages in weight and volume and is more suitable for use in fields such as aerospace that require lightweight design.
Traditional engines have disadvantages such as low combustion efficiency and heavy weight, which limit the maneuverability and stealth performance of fighter jets. Traditional engines have many limitations in supersonic cruise and short takeoff and landing, while detonation engines, through advantages such as high response speed, will significantly improve future fighter jets in these aspects.
The high thermal cycle efficiency and lightweight design of the detonation engine will enable future fighter jets to have higher maneuverability and stealth performance. The high response speed of the detonation engine will enable future fighter jets to have stronger supersonic cruise and short take-off and landing capabilities.
In recent years, scientific research institutions and enterprises such as China Aerospace Science and Technology Corporation have continuously increased their investment and R&D efforts in the field of high-end equipment, promoting the emergence and application of a series of major scientific and technological achievements. In the field of aviation engines, scientific research institutions and enterprises such as China Aerospace Science and Technology Corporation have not only successfully developed a number of advanced aviation engine products, but also actively promoted the innovation and application of related technologies.
For example, they have improved the performance and reliability of aircraft engines by adopting advanced materials and manufacturing processes; and reduced the R&D cost and cycle of aircraft engines by adopting digital design and simulation analysis. In the field of spacecraft, scientific research institutions and enterprises such as China Aerospace Science and Technology Corporation have also achieved remarkable results. They have successfully developed a number of advanced spacecraft products, including manned spacecraft and deep space probes. The successful development and application of these products not only improved the performance and reliability of China’s spacecraft but also laid a solid foundation for the future development of China’s space industry.
The Leavers
Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Set your story in a world where time travel has been perfected, and people can use it to hop between alternate timelines — but at a cost.… view prompt
Charlotte Kelley
This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.
She didn’t leave me much. One morning, a bleak Tuesday, I woke up to find her collection of magazines on my front porch. A canary yellow sticky note flapped in the wind.
“I want to be a kid again. You understand. You’ve seen how others leave to chase youth. I want to be six, with no problems, with bright eyes, illusioned. I’m sorry, Ava. I love you.”
And she was gone.
For a while after that, I contemplated those last three days. She’d done so much to ensure her departure: bought the pill, stirred it into chilled water, let it dissolve for forty-eight hours, drank it just before drifting, wrote notes, said her goodbyes—or the ones she could stomach—watched the sun dip below Sali’s flat, grassy landscape one last time. You needed a plan for this kind of thing. You couldn’t just go.
Though I understood her thirst for naivety, I’d resented her in the stretching spring and summer days that followed. The last time we’d talked was five days prior to Beck’s first death, at a café equidistant from our respective houses, and if she’d shown signs of decision, they’d been tenuous, hidden beneath the musical cadence of her words.
“I heard you got the promotion. Good job, Av.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like there’s much room to advance. I’m only getting an extra two dollars an hour.”
“Still, congrats. I’m proud of you. Always proud of you, you know that.”
I surveyed her order.
“That’s a new drink, isn’t it?”
“Yep. A macchiato. Thought I’d try something new.”
“Oh, how adventurous you’re becoming.”
She sipped her drink, lips pinching at the unfamiliar taste. Maybe she’d requested one expresso shot too many.
“Quite,” she’d laughed.
I wasn’t going to do that to people. Not that there were many left to inform. I was nearing thirty now; the town had most certainly predicted my departure, maybe before I came to terms with it myself.
Still, I met my old instructors for drinks, left gift baskets on my neighbors’ porches, scribed notes to the kids I babysat on the evenings their father worked late. Now, dropping two envelopes into Reed and Lucy’s mailbox, I understood Beck’s need for anonymity. It was necessary in the same way Catholics build screens between their sins and the robed priest, as if that distance lightened their impending confession.
“I’m leaving Sali tonight,” I’d written, and I could have left it there. Any native would have known what I meant. But I kept going. “It has been a pleasure spending time with you.” And then, to Reed, I’d told him not to give up on his dreams of becoming a professional MLB player, and to Lucy, I’d implored her to continue creating, whether that meant painting or writing or tracing designs into backyard soil with sticks. “Live well, my darlings. And thank your dad for me.”
Their mom had left Sali two years ago, when the twins were only seven. I knew it was my choice, my right to do so as well, but knowing I’d be these kids’ next disappointment haunted me, had been haunting me, was the chill in my spine and the tangle of my hair.
I’d had more time to contemplate my departure than most. I’d watched helplessly, my hands bound, my feet cemented to the floor, as friends, family, acquaintances, and lovers left me behind. I know it’s only a side effect of leaving Sali, and their decisions never had much to do with me. But in all my years of waking up to letters and heirlooms, the pain of this groggy realization, one that dawned on me after rubbing the sleep from my eyes, has never waned.
And now, it was my turn, and I knew some would hurt the same way.
I placed the copper smoothie on my bedside the same way I would vitamins. Would this remedy heal me? I knew precisely where I wanted to end up. It wasn’t any elaborate universe. I didn’t want to be a superstar or to chase unbridled success. I didn’t even want to leave the country.
I just wanted a normal life, a world without Sali, Washington.
I sat on my bed. The duvet hugged my skin, and I shivered, ran my fingers along my goosebumps the same way I would concrete shingles. My lower lip teased the rim of my glass; I almost retched at the smell. Everyone was right—I was about to swallow a cup of pennies.
I took a deep breath, perhaps the last I’d inhale in this bedroom, surrounded by this town, and waited for reservations to barrage me in a wet and terrible deluge, for vigor to swat the glass from my trembling fingertips and shatter it, leave shards in the small divots of my scratched wooden floors.
But there was nothing. I had nowhere else to go and little left to accomplish in a town that had failed so many. We were born waiting to die, and wasn’t that just awful?
The sooner I could get it over with, the better.
My first sip. It caught in my throat but eventually passed. My tongue wept at the tang.
Would there be another disagreeable vending machine in my new city, one you had to chastise with stern visage and hefty sigh?
Did I want there to be?
My second sip. It went down without complaint.
Reed and Lucy had probably read their notes by now. I wondered if they would miss me at all, if I would miss them, if I’d remember they once meant something to me. Perhaps I’d wake up with different memories and think nothing ill of my lived moments, as if they were always mine to begin with.
My third sip, my fourth, my fifth. I wanted this to be over now.
Somewhere, in another universe, Beck was a teenager again. Or, time worked differently where she’d gone, and Beck was still a wide-eyed child.
Somewhere, in another universe, my parents had never lost their oldest son, and they never left me, their spare, to chase him.
Somewhere, in another universe, wives didn’t die, and teachers didn’t disappear.
Somewhere, in another universe, I was surrounded by familiar people, and I was content.
This was not that universe.
My final sip. It tasted sweet, which was odd. Like strawberries, with hints of that same metallic substance. I touched my tongue to my teeth and realized it had been blood this entire time.
Slowly, as if nothing would be different in the morning, I placed the glass on my bedside table once again and laid down, pulling my duvet up to my neck. Already, I felt my eyelids closing, my muscles growing dense and heavy as if filled with those copper pennies and rotting limes. My head cleared, and though a shout of regret tried to escape through my trembling lips, it could not. I was too tired, more tired than I had ever been, and this was final.
Soon, I would be gone.
US price tag for China’s gallium export ban: $602 billion and new monopolies for Huawei
What surprises Australians when they visit the United States of America?
Here are a few suprises I noticed when I went on holidays to America
- They don’t use electric kettles. They use the microwave or stove top kettle. Apparently they don’t have enough current for electric kettles.
- Takeaway coffee is not good. They love it, but I guess we may be snobs. Dunkin donuts and Starbucks are the worst. And don’t even ask for a cappuccino, it will disappoint, no matter where.
- Pets on planes. Yep you can take your dog on a plane, just pop it in a cute doggy box and slide it under your seat. On 3 of my internal flights I saw puppies. I wish we could do that in Australia.
- People are friendly. The further you venture out to the big cities people love a chat. They are curious and lovely to talk to.
- America for a visit costs a lot. It may have been cheaper in the past, but now things cost the same dollar amount, but when you factor in the currency conversion, things are really expensive.
- Shelf price is not what you pay. Expect to pay more. You won’t know the price till they ring it up
- I love how pretty much each state you go to is different countryside wise, and each state has a slightly different accent. Boston and Portland ME so very different to the rest of the country.
- There are people always asking for money, usually shaking an empty cup outside of all convenience stores.
- Things are great while out exploring in the cities, until you turn down the wrong street. This happened in Brooklyn, I was walking and it was starting to look a little dodgy, to the point I was starting to feel unsafe. Police officers spotted me and told me to turn around right now. I didn’t question them and did as directed.
They are a few things I noticed on my holiday travels, sorry vacation travels, often corrected by the Americans.
The Waiting Room
Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Set your story in a world where time travel has been perfected, and people can use it to hop between alternate timelines — but at a cost.… view prompt
Paul Besancon
Eric watched them through the window. The night was cold, yet no breath fogged the glass when he leaned closer. That took some getting used to the first few journeys he made. Now, it was trivial. As always, the glass was dirty. She regularly teased him to help out around the house more. He kept up with the maintenance, but cleaning was never his forte. Still, he could have helped out more. One of many regrets.
That was when he felt it. God damn hands. They were shaking again, but he never let go of the cylindrical key fob resting tightly in his grasp. With each trip, the shaking grew worse.
A crash came from inside the house. “Oh no! Sowwy!” A child’s voice.
“It’s okay honey, just be careful not to cut yourself. Don’t touch that!” a brunette beauty warned the child before grabbing some paper towels. Always odd seeing paper towels again. But what held Eric’s attention was that of the woman and her captivating green eyes, as well as the little girl who fumbled the task of transporting a cup to the younger man sitting at the table. He was laughing, bringing a smile to the girl’s face. A tooth was missing, but her smile was still the most beautiful Eric had ever witnessed.
The man stood, hoisting up the girl. At least it’s just tiles and not carpet. “At least it’s just tiles and not carpet,” the man said, planting a kiss on the girl’s round cheek. “Here, let me help babe.” He plucked some paper towels and began scrapping the broken glass into a pile.
“Careful. Don’t want you getting cut,” the woman smiled, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am!”
“Sowwy daddy.” The little girl hugged his neck.
At that moment, hot tears streamed down Eric’s face. Little bits of lava sliding through the crevices of his wrinkled skin. That’s why he came. Those tears were the only painful happiness he could feel.
“It’s okay baby girl. Daddy’s got you.” The man nuzzled cheeks with the little girl.
I can’t take anymore. Didn’t last long this time. Eric’s shaky hands fumbled with the key fob, eventually sliding the head piece back with a click. The contraption lit up when opened. Several options emitted from the small touch screen. With a few clumsy taps, he closed his eyes. A bright flash was seen behind wrinkly lids. Then he felt it: warmth.
With open eyes, he was granted the view of the what they called ‘The Waiting Room’; a small, circular capsule that housed white panels covering the most advanced tech of the era. It was somewhat eerie, even to a veteran traveler like him. But he found the thrumming from the panels soothing. Albeit, it was daunting to those unaware of their function. He knew, however. For they were descendants of his own design.
“You good?” A familiar voice asked over the loudspeaker.
Eric gave a thumbs up.
“Alright. You know the drill. Thirty seconds for acclimation procedures.”
Eric nodded solemnly, shakingly wiping the last tears from his burning eyes. Damn it! I should have stayed longer. Curse these hands!
Eventually, the door to the capsule opened and a younger man stepped inside. It was Drew, Eric’s protégé and the voice on the loudspeaker. Drew wasn’t pleased. “You’re not looking so good, boss. Shaking’s getting worse. You need a break. Keep coming every day and your neurological system is going to be shot to hell.”
“I’m well aware of the risks, Drew.” Eric walked into the hall, pressing the key fob against Drew’s chest as he passed.
“We just worry about you, that’s all.” Drew took the fob and followed.
“I built the damn thing. I know what it entails.”
“How did this run go?”
Eric stopped in his tracks. Two employees in lab coats walked past, nervously nodding greetings. “It was…wonderful. Painful. Glorious and tragic. Like every time.”
“Sounds like life, eh?” Drew’s eyebrow peaked.
“It was life, Drew. It was.”
“Indeed.”
***
Eric sat on the edge of his bed. Curling his toes in the carpet always brought him a comforting welcome to the new day—a day he often contemplated not seeing ever again. But not this day. No, he had to see them again. One last time, he told himself every morning.
“Remove tint,” he called out.
“Removing tint,” a monotone voice replied from unseen speakers.
The dark wall before him suddenly turned into clear windows, and he was blessed with the grand view of the awakening city. Glass-plated skyscrapers and sky railways filled his sight.
Standing naked before the glass as he did every morning, he knew that none could see him. Another pleasure of high-tech windows. The bustling city was already in full swing. He could make out the plethora of drone transports on the streets as well as flying people around the city’s massive buildings. Only government and licensed companies could offer drone services. Legislation was being pushed to allow individuals to operate their own drones, but that would take years. I remember when everyone had their own car. City buses and subways were simply an option, not a requirement. Luckily, he owned several drone and railway companies, making transportation for himself a trivial matter. And the public transport drones were free for all, if one didn’t mind overcrowded, malfunctioning cesspools of crime.
A notification pinged on his tablet: a reminder of the day’s reserved Waiting Room. That capsule was for his own personal use. There was no need to schedule, he could use it whenever he wished. But he suspected he was a slave to routine, and seeing the notifications catered to that aspect of his being. But today, he was going in early, despite the risks. I didn’t see them enough last time…
***
“Whoa, whoa Eric! You’re way too early. You know what that can do to you!” Drew held his hands up to the older man. “Come on, be reasonable!”
“We go through this every time, Drew.” Eric waved away his concerns.
“For good reason,”—Drew blocked the Waiting Room door with a hand planted firmly against the frame—“I can’t just stand here and let you do this to yourself. I…it breaks my heart.”
“What the hell do you know of broken hearts? You’ve never lost so much as a pet hamster.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t sympathize. Look, I get it. I really do. Sure, I might not have lost a loved one before, and I hope it’ll be a long time before I do. But if you croak because of this, then I will experience that loss. You’re like a father to me, so call me selfish.”
Eric was touched, but he had made up his mind long ago when it came to this venture. “Look, kid. The entire purpose of me developing this technology was so I could see them again. I can’t change their fate, but at least I can see them. That’s all I have left in this life—seeing them one last time.”
“That’s the problem Eric, it never is ‘one last time.’ You’re in here every single day and your neurological pathways cannot handle that stress. I mean look!” Drew pulled up Eric’s hands. The tremors were worse, even moving down to his elbows.
“I don’t give a damn. My life!” Eric yanked his hands away and firmly pushed past the younger man. He snatched the key fob out of Drew’s shirt pocket and began fumbling with it. God damn hands! he cursed, smacking the shaky appendages on his thighs. “You going to come along, or you going to queue me up?”
Drew simply shook his head in defeat before exiting the Waiting Room. After a minute or so, he was heard over the loudspeaker, “Your funeral.”
“Damn straight. You know where to send me. And Drew”—he paused—“this is my choice. Not yours. Don’t take on any guilt, kid.”
The loudspeaker crackled for a bit, and then Drew finally spoke, “Yes sir.”
At that, the mechanical whir began, growing louder with each second until it reached a crescendo. Eric welcomed the rhythmic buzz. It was almost a part of him.
“Processing time sequence. Charting jump. Implementing countdown. Eyes closed, boss. Initiating jump.”
That familiar bright light and humming enveloped Eric. He remembered when he first invented the capsules. Back then it took nearly three hours to initiate a jump back in time. But now, it only took seconds. Oh, how technology flies. All the brilliant minds he employed over the decades was to thank for that. Particularly Drew. Eric was blessed to have such a worthy protégé take over in his retirement. Not only did the young man have the intellect and knowledge, but the moral coding to lead the company into the right direction. If…when I die, at least I can say he was one good thing I left behind. Even though he’s not my own son.
But then Eric’s thoughts shot to the present, or more accurately, the past. He knew to open his eyes when he felt—nothing, to be precise. No temperature, no wind or summer breeze, no cool night air or misty spring morning. This was a result of the known Ericonian laws, which state that time travel is subject to observance only, and limited to traveling to the past. Thus, when one is sent back in time, they’re unable to interact with anyone or anything. They’re virtually in spirit only, taking on a ghostly presence that can only watch. Although, many of his critics suspected this was deliberately implemented, rather than a limit of technology or research. Fortunately, Eric had the world’s top lawyers to muster up ironclad patents that prevented any to take on his research until after his death. So long as he lived, the world would never know the truth behind his work. In fact, not even the company knew. Only Drew was privy to what truly lied behind Ericonian systems. And Eric trusted him to do the right thing with it once he’s gone.
A child’s laughter. That was the moment he always chose to open his eyes. Nothing was sweeter than hearing that infectious, innocent giggle. Then came hers—that golden, honeyed voice calling out to him. “Eric! Your daughter is going to be the death of me. I can’t keep up!” The green-eyed goddess of his dreams chased the girl around the picnic blanket. He watched as they laughed joyfully when his wife picked up their little girl and lifted her to the sky before planting a raspberry on her tummy, much to the screaming toddler’s delight. His eyes drifted to his much younger self, lying back on the blanket with a big smile.
“Amy, don’t kill your mom please. I like her,” his younger self teased.
“Okay daddy!” Amy giggled. Another raspberry blurted out from her soft belly.
The tears flowed, as they always did. Older Eric wiped them away. Despite being invisible to them, he always observed from afar. It never felt right to intrude on their happiness with his own despair. Yet, it was still hard to watch from a distance.
Suddenly, he felt something dripping down his mouth. He reached up to discover something warm and metallic slipping between his fingers. Blood? Then he collapsed, shaking violently. No! Not yet! Not now! His vision blurred; his head felt like it was going to split open. How can it have come so fast? He forced himself to open the key fob. The shaking made it difficult to grasp the device and input the proper sequence for evacuation. I must see them one more time. Just once more!
Then came the flash, and the warmth of the Waiting Room.
“Eric!” Drew could be heard over the loudspeaker. The worry in his voice quite apparent. “Eric! Don’t close your eyes. The doc is on the way. Stay awake! Eric!”
I’ll just, close them for a moment. I’m so tired. It hurts so much. Maybe if I just sleep a little while…
***
“He’s waking up,” said a familiar voice.
“Thank god.” That’s Drew. Where am I? “Eric, you okay? How you feeling?”
“You shouldn’t push him too much right now. He’s taken a heavy hit. Give him some time.”
“Where am I?” Eric managed to utter. His voice but a shallow whisper.
“You’re in the private clinic. Dr. Jurgen says you should be okay.”
“If he stops using the Waiting Room,” Dr. Jurgen muttered. “How many times have I warned you this would happen? How many times has Drew? But nope, why listen to the experts?”
“Thanks doc,” Eric gave him a shaky thumbs up. “Now, I’d like to speak with Drew in private, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, why not? Not like you almost died and need monitoring or anything.” Dr. Jurgen exited the room, grumbling in protest.
When they were alone, Eric looked to Drew, his head shaking uncontrollably. “It’s time.”
Immediately, tears began to well in Drew’s eyes. “I was afraid you were going to say that. Look, if you just stop using the Waiting Room, you’ll be fine. You just have to let them go.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“But—”
“—Drew…I’m done. You know what this means.”
Drew wiped his reddening eyes, nodding reluctantly.
“Help me.” Eric stood, wobbling on shaky legs. Drew put an arm around him.
They slowly walked to Eric’s Waiting Room. Luckily, all the other employees wishing him well had gone home for the night. The building was near empty. Drew placed him in the Waiting Room’s access zone.
“You sure you want to do this?” Drew swallowed back more tears.
“We’ve discussed this a million times, kid. I made my choice long ago. I have to see them one last time.” It took all his strength, but Eric managed to smile. He lifted a shaky hand up to Drew’s face, wiping away a tear and gently patting his cheek. “I love you, kid. You’re gonna do great.”
Drew lost it and threw his arms around his mentor, who returned the favor. “I don’t want to have to say it, but just in case, goodbye Eric. And tell them I said ‘hello.’”
“Will do, kid. Will do. And Drew, take me back to that moment…”
Drew nodded before exiting the room. After a minute or two, the mechanical whirring hummed.
Heh, I don’t think he noticed. In all the years Eric had taken this journey, this was the first and only time he didn’t grab the key fob from Drew’s pocket. Keep it real, kid.
The flash of light faded and Eric was once again in the past. This time, it was a park with a fairly robust playground. He saw Amy, just coming down the slide. His younger self and wife were sitting on a nearby bench, watching her play.
Shaking uncontrollably, Eric stumbled his way to her. Blood began seeping from his nose again, his vision blurring once more. This time, a needle-like piercing of a high frequency sound stabbed into his brain. But he pushed onward. Reaching into his pocket, he grasped a round device. It held a rotary knob that he slowly turned. I must do this right. I can’t scare her.
He collapsed to one knee. Crawling his way forward, he managed to arrive at his daughter who stood there observing a beetle. The dial rotated a little bit more. That was when she turned to him, her eyes somewhat shocked at first. But then they softened when he smiled.
“Hi. Are you okay?” Her voice was like gentle rose petals brushing against his ears. He fought back sobbing, lest he scare her away.
“Yes, sweety, I’m okay. I just wanted to say hello,” he replied, struggling.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“Good, that’s good. Your mother is very smart. But I just, well. Can I shake your hand?”
“Um…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. I understand.”
Amy looked around, then back at his wife and younger self who were staring directly at her; neither appeared alarmed. Eric knew they couldn’t see him, only Amy was within range of the amplifier in his pocket. Eventually she shrugged, holding out her hand.
Tears stung his eyes as he gasped, slowly reaching out to her. So small. So fragile. He couldn’t control himself any longer. The feeling of her warm, soft hand wrapping around his thumb threw him over the edge. He feared she would run away; instead, she simply put her other hand over his large thumb and whispered, “It’s okay mister. You’ll feel better.”
He laughed, spittle and tears dripping down his face. “Thank you, sweety. Thank you. I have to go now. You…you have a fun time playing, okay?”
She nodded, then ran off giggling.
Eric turned the amplifier dial, ushering himself back into his time bubble. It was worth it. It was all worth it. Watching her run around, his thoughts flashed back to the night he was in the lab at his company and received news of the railway crash. He remembered the sound of his wailing upon discovering his family was no more. He felt the agony of finding out the railway was owned by his company. He never forgot the pain. But he also remembered it being the impetus for him to begin his time travel research. He remembered the drive to succeed in order to change the fate of that horrific day. And then he remembered why he mustn’t. He remembered why changing that day would be erroneous, and would see him never fulfilling his destiny in the first place. But this, this one moment, made it all worth it.
Eric closed his eyes for the last time. No one knew what happened to him, for he was never seen again. Drew had his theories, but didn’t dare travel back to test them. That was Eric’s time, and it was best left to him.
What is the protocol after a minor accident in Singapore?
The protocol? In Singapore, a word of apology or admitting the fault may sound good but is meaningless and rarely seen when road accidents happen, even a minor bump into a pedestrian or skids another car’s side-view mirror.
“Just when you think you had a minor accident, you will fall off the chair when the bill of S$20,000 arrives”
Regardless of who foots the bill (you or the insurance company), it happens in the rich City-State of Singapore where money talks, not small but big money!
What is the protocol after a minor accident in Singapore?
A minor accident in Singapore isn’t a police case and you are on your own, like vehicle accidents or between pedestrians and motorists for example, To prevent the above rip-off, do this:-
If you are the victim or the affected party even if you are the culprit:
Make yourself look like a robot —Snap photos or a video like a pro of the impact of the accident and record the conversation between you and the other party.— write down the damage in words and get the person to sign, if he/she refuses to sign use swear words back to you as compliments, never mind, as you already recorded the conversations.
Go to your Insurance and pass it on to your insuranceman.
What happened in the past, was the workshop of the other party ever smashed the damage to their car further, plus the driver claimed medical fee and time lost for not being able to work with photos of himself/herself bandaged to look like a mummy…
That was a result from a small bump between two cars.. A minor accident.
What does it tell you?
“Live your life, live smart with no friends or be stupid with many friends and live happily ever after.”- Words of wisdom ( from me)
Shorpy
Why do Hongkongers have no hope for Hong Kong even with the rise of China?
Question: Why do Hongkongers have no hope for Hong Kong even with the rise of China?
Answer:
It is particularly because mainland China is rising, the Hong Kongers grew discontent.
It comes down to envy.
Yeah, per capita Hong Kong is quite rich. The problem is that like all places on earth, per capita hardly reflects the average living condition:
Tiny Apartments and Punishing Work Hours: The Economic Roots of Hong Kong’s Protests
This picture isn’t a corner of a home. The picture is the ENTIRE home of a family of four.
The unlivable dwellings in Hong Kong and the minimum living space | Hong Kong Free Press HKFP
I don’t know about you, but my undergraduate dorm was several times the size of this. Heck, my own room in the particular suite (which I share with another student) is way bigger than this.
Yet, previously, common residents in Hong Kong is able to take comfort that they are indeed richer than the mainland Chinese, especially those they can immediately seen across the waters in Shenzhen.
However, times change. In the past several decades, mainland China grew rapidly and Shenzhen, a tier 1 city in China, is particularly well developed. Basically, Hong Kongers are seeing someone they used to looked down upon grew richer, has better living conditions and generally just does better.
If we open the history books, it is easy to see why this is happening.
Historically, Hong Kong isn’t actually anywhere particularly important. However, after the WWII ended, power balance around the world is shifting rapidly. The British Empire, in particular, is thorn on both US’ and USSR’s side. As the result, Americans and Russians spent much of the effort from 1945 onward to dismantle the British colonies by encouraging/supply the independence movements.
Old Europe, as a whole, is also subjected to the same because Americans and Russians needed to make sure that the old colonial powers are contained.
PRC, on the other hand, has much different concerns. The Chinese missed the industrialization train back in 1800s and early 1900s, as the result, while large, its position is hardly secure among the other large powers and they needed allies (of various kind). While China and old Europe had plenty of conflicts in the past, the rise of US and USSR means China and Europe is strategically isolated from each other, thus in no direct conflict. This made them a natural choice of partners.
However, as the cold war setting in, Europe also had to mind its relationship with US, because USSR is physically located on Western Europeans’ door step and even though US has a large hand in dismantling European’s oversea empires, they still need to be friendly with US in order to defend themselves against USSR. But at the same time, US’ interest in East/Southeast Asia puts them in conflict with China, this means Europe cannot be openly friendly with China.
Thus Hong Kong became important. A British colony/lease right at the door step of China means goods and service can flow without violating US’ sanctions on China (not to mention American companies themselves also found the opportunity great). Thus, for many decades, trade/exchange that would happen between China and entirety of western camp Europeans (and some more) have to route through Hong Kong. This inflated Hong Kong’s worth to a level well beyond its small size would otherwise indicate.
However, times changed when 1980s come along. The shifting cold war politics means Europe, Japan and many others are now trading openly with China and no longer need Hong Kong. To be fair, Hong Kong already have quite a bit established infrastructure at that point, so many still choose to go through Hong Kong for convenience. But the matter remained that Hong Kong is no longer “necessary”.
As the result, the following decades saw a gradual decline of Hong Kong (relatively speaking), because at the end of the day, it is a small city with no land to expand to.
In term of investment to improve the infrastructure, other port cities in mainland China has the investment of an entire nation and the investor (the Chinese government) is willing to wait for decades for the investment to yield reward (since the Chinese government’s main concern is long term development prospects).
For Hong Kong, however, the British isn’t going to invest a single cent, because they know they have to give up Hong Kong eventually. The one country two system also put Hong Kongers to be in charge of themselves, this means while Beijing is willing to provide basic commodities like food, water, electricity, shelling out billions to development infrastructure in a place that doesn’t pay a single cent of tax to them is simply too much to ask for.
So this is why, Hong Kong has gradually lost its competitive edge. To be fair, when viewed from historical perspective, Hong Kong is simply returning to the normal state or what they should have be without the specially circumstances of the cold war, but you can hardly expect Hong Kongers to take this laying down.
They Can’t Hide it Anymore: US PRIVATE SECTOR EMPLOYMENT IS IN A RECESSION
US private sector full-time jobs have DROPPED by nearly 2 MILLION over the past year. Such a drop has never happened outside of recessions.
The only gain in full-time jobs has been in the government sector.
The Job market is not only weak; it is collapsing.
Hal Turner Editorial Opinion
This . . . . . this right here . . . . is exactly, precisely the second largest reason that the Democrats lost the Presidential election. While they were stuck in their echo chamber of lies, repeating the falsehood that “the economy is terrific” the rest of the real world knew otherwise.
The first big reason they lost, of course, was inflation; specifically, the price of FOOD.
But to this very day, the left-wing remain in their echo chamber of lies, only now, they’re trying to find a way to block Trump from being inaugurated.
Two political-blowhard attorneys published a major Op-Ed piece on “TheHill.com” suggesting Congress block Trump from office under an accusation that he “engaged in insurrection” against the United States. (Their nonsense Op-Ed piece HERE)
It seems as though the Left-Wing is oblivious to the reality that what they’re doing WOULD LIKELY cause an ACTUAL, SHOOTING, Civil War, and that people die in Civil Wars . . . . particularly, the people that start them.
Do they really think they can negate the votes of about 76 Million people and not face the guns of those 76 Million people?
Oh well, if it’s civil war they want . . .
Why is the Chinese economy stronger than what the West thinks?
Simple.
The western press lies.
As the WSJ and Economist recruitment ads inform us, they are looking for writers and editors to join their AGENDA-SETTING mission. Not NEWS REPORTING, but AGENDA-SETTING.
They will shape the narrative to fit the AGENDA, and repurpose facts toward the end.
Want to find out about China?
Read the Chinese. Don’t read ABOUT them.
Now why is China stronger than portrayed?
In a democratic, capitalistic paradigm full of human rights and rule of law (such as the United States), large-scale infrastructure in the Appalachians (for example) will be seen as an indulgence, because the projects will not be profitable, measured against metrics elsewhere.
Hence we have this book, which paved the way to the vice-presidency for the hillbilly author.
Some time ago, I posted a graphic on how the UNGA voted on the resolution “Food is a human right”. The US voted against, and American quorans were up in arms defending the position. The issue has been thoroughly politicized domestically, turning “food is a human right” to “you have a right to food, but I ain’t paying for it”.
Similarly, a system anchored on profit will not take on loss-making projects, even if they may be vital public goods. In the extreme, the bare minimum is provided to preserve the last vestiges of a fragile social contract, such as social security, healthcare and education.
In America, it is “congratulations to the winners” and “good luck to the losers”, as JD poignantly narrates in his book. That’s the essence of tension within the tenets of free and competitive capitalism, worshipped throughout the west.
China sees things differently. Capitalism (or free markets) is seen as a means, rather than the end.
The stated aim of the Chinese government is to share the fruits of economic progress with everyone. It may take generations, but Deng Xiaoping was sincere when he said in 1985:
一部分地区、一部分人可以先富起来，带动和帮助其他地区、其他的人，逐步达到共同富裕。
Some regions and some people can become rich first, and then drive and help other regions and other people to gradually achieve common prosperity.
COMMON PROSPERITY.
That’s the overarching theme to the Chinese economic makeover.
Consider Guizhou, Xinjiang and Tibet. Why have they been poor for millennia? Because of challenging geography. Guizhou, for example, is the only Chinese province without a plain while Tibet is contained within the himalayas, the world’s tallest and most extreme mountain range. Xinjiang, being squeezed between the foothills of the himalayas and the permafrost north, is home to several impenetrable deserts.
And yet what has the Chinese government been doing?
Guizhou is home to some of the world’s most spectacular bridges and tunnels, with its 30,000 bridges surely a world record per capita (1 bridge per 1,300).
Lhasa, altitude 3,600m, is connected by 3 railway lines, with a 4th connecting Thimpu and Kathmandu in discussion!
Urumqi is now connected by highway and high-speed rail to the rest of China!
China could have grown its gdp faster focusing east of the Heihe-Tengchong line, where over 90% of the population live.
Yet China chose indulgence, in the eyes of the profit-driven west, in pursuit of COMMON PROSPERITY.
The principle of a rising tide lifting all boats is where a lot of government debt is going, to equalize millennia of environmental disadvantage.
Next, low inflation.
How does China maintain stable prices in a world of fluctuation? The Chinese government put in place price-making mechanisms of key commodities and energy. Affordable and stable prices are seen as public goods and some SOEs have been set up with the express intent to lose money in order to deliver public goods that are impossible under market pricing rules.
And so on.
In china, 大同 or a peaceful, just and equal society is an ideal worth fighting for.
An obsession with profit and “winner takes all” vs. COMMON PROSPERITY. Social cohesiveness wins in the long run over a rugged “me me me” culture.
“… Police officers spotted me and told me to turn around right now.”
These little observations by random tourists across the US are interesting. This quote may be to some just a reflection of your typical dodgy ‘hood in downtown USA– nothing unusual there, all big cities outside of Eastern Asia usually have no-go areas. But if you think about it, especially given what sounds like a particular urgency in that officer’s order to random Bruce, what the above suggests to me is that the police in major US cities are actually managing to the best of their abilities urban situations that are on the verge of breakdown and major collapse and have been ordered to keep potential collateral out in the meantime. Just a sense I get from reading these tourists’ reports posted by Metallicman this past year, or so. You’d never know that by following along mainstream media, or if you haven’t visited a big US city lately, or believe Trump’s “Hey, everything’s great. We’re going to be billionaires, going to be zillionaires, manufacturing’s coming back…” narratives, but the reality on the ground is something different.
What’s also being underreported is that many other nations across the board are strongly advising against travel to the US this summer (and for everyone– not just trannies, and other assorted juicyfruits, as is being spun by legacy media), and many people Stateside whose visas have run out or have crossed the law for whatever random reason are being brutally arrested and thrown into the slammer to sleep on a concrete floor for 10 days until their consulates can organise a lawyer to spring them– if they’re lucky. And these are German and Canadian students/workers/tourists– one can only imagine what’s happening to anyone from a less fashionable background.
I’m no macro-economics guy, but it’s my information that the Big Investors Stateside are negotiating with the Russians and Chinese (most likely for a bigger piece of Chinese manufacturing, or chunks of the planned Russian Far East and Arctic expansion– said by many to be the biggest industrial opportunity of the 21st century and well beyond– undersea tunnels to Japan from the Koreas, new superhighways and railroads to Canada across the Bering Straits, massive touristic/industrial development of Kamchatka and North Korea, and on and on– dwarfing even the BRI and BRICS in terms of future monetary and investment potential) for an “out”, and already transferring key staff and funding the hell out of the States. But if you’re looking for information about that Russian-Chinese planned expansion in anything other than obscure English language engineering and business publications, good luck with that. There’s nowt but tumbleweeds a-blowing. And by the time the average Stateside investor or worker figures out what’s going on, they’ll be long gone. Even the Mexican government is signing massive deals with China– multiple billions, and rolling– while Trump thinks he can intimidate them with a couple US Navy destroyers parked off the coast and armed with subsonic cruise missiles (1990s technology and updated software) with a battalion or two of Marines on standby (while at the same time attempting to up the ante with Iran!? 😂. It’s not gonna be pretty, that is fo’ sho.)
But Trust The Plan! It’s 5G Chess!! Hussshhhhh!!!