We are just a group of retired spooks that discuss things that you’ll not find anywhere else. It makes us unique. Take a look around. Learn a thing or two.
There’s some interesting applications regarding this. I have looked at it, and I can see benefits of it, but honestly it’s all cold, sterile, and “wooden” in content. Sort of like reading a refrigerator manual.
Question:
With the new ChatGPT - Wolfram combination, then what is Quora's raison d'être ?
Answer:
Even with the combination of ChatGPT and Wolfram, Quora can still have a strong raison d'être or reason for being. Quora is a community-driven platform where people can ask questions and receive answers from a wide range of individuals, including experts and professionals. While ChatGPT and Wolfram may provide excellent answers to many questions, there are still questions that require human input and expertise.
Moreover, Quora provides a social aspect to question-and-answer platforms, allowing users to engage with others and build a network of like-minded individuals. Quora's community-driven approach fosters discussions and debates that can lead to new insights and perspectives. Additionally, Quora's vast archive of questions and answers allows individuals to access valuable information on a wide range of topics.
Therefore, while the combination of ChatGPT and Wolfram may provide valuable information, Quora can still serve as a platform for individuals to engage with others and access a diverse range of perspectives and knowledge.
This post covers some access portal for you all to self explore.
I have two links for you.
The first is ChatGPT that is what everyone is talking about. You can visit it HERE.
The second if far more interesting. It’s called GEN-2. This one takes text, or a feeder image, and then generates a movie from it. Absolutely astounding! You can visit it HERE.
Astounding stuff. I’d love to hear what you all think of GEN-2.
There’s numerous bank collapses. A massive spending frenzy over war, and promises of war. There’s a massive slide in the over all quality of life for American, and debt levels are unsustainable.
Meanwhile, the rest of the world sees this and wants no part of it. They have divorced the Untied States.
But the United States people have been living a fantasy for decades now. they are mostly unaware of how bad things are. Though there are those of us who are outside and watching this shit show in real time.
The people of the United States are on the threshold…
…a threshold from being the wealthiest and “best” nation in the world, to being a seventh rate banana republic in everything except ritual and projection.
And it too, it too..
Yes, it too… will contribute to the new Geo-political realities that the rest of the world will enjoy, but what will be denied to Americans.
Read on…
10 companies Sell 100 lithography machines to China！
Biden and neocon’s are fuming!
https://youtu.be/H4zxNFos1Jc
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
“Mom, there’s roaches in the chicken.”
My sister and I were staring at the roaches in our dinner. We always had a roach problem, but that summer when I was nine, the intense heat had brought on an unusual bloom of roaches. Mom had braised chicken wings in soy sauce for dinner Shanghai style. When she brought out dinner, my sister and I discovered a number of baby roaches in the bowl of wings.
Mom looked at the wings for a few seconds and said quietly, “pick them out,” before she turned and went back to the kitchen.
The cork on our bottle of cheap soy sauce had cracked the way it usually did halfway through the bottle and Mom had rolled a piece of paper and fashioned it into a paper cork. The tiny gaps in the makeshift cork were just big enough for baby roaches to get through.
My sister and I stared at the bowl of wings. The bodies of the baby roaches glistened as they floated in the soy sauce broth and clung to the wings. I was the first to break, taking a wing and picking off the tiny carcasses before eating it. It was delicious. Hunger won out, and we got over the gross factor pretty quickly.
……………..
“You’re going to move far away when you grow up,” Mom declared after reading my earlobes.
I was eight, and the apartment was very cold. We were in the middle of an unusually cold winter, and the radiators in the old building couldn’t keep up. My sister, who didn’t get cold as easily, was watching TV in the other room. Even though it was only late afternoon, Mom and I had crawled under her covers to huddle for warmth.
I looked over at Mom and felt sad at the idea of being far away from her. I cuddled up to her affectionately and said, “No Mom, I’ll always stay by your side.”
……………..
“I’ll give you $75.” The lady handed my mom the gold bracelet back after carefully inspecting it.
It was one of the few pieces Mom had left of the gifts she got on her wedding day.
“It’s worth at least $150,” Mom said.
The lady frowned and shook her head. “It’s not that heavy. I can only offer you $75.” she said.
Mom glanced at the six-year-old me. I looked back at her glassy-eyed, my face flushed with fever.
“I need to take her to the doctor,” Mom said.
The lady sighed. “$100. That’s the most I can give you.”
It wasn’t the first or the last item Mom would pawn.
……………..
“I’m hungry,” I said.
“Have an apple,” Mom said cheerfully.
I’d already had five apples that day and the thought of eating another made me nauseous.
We had taken a bus day tour and gone apple picking. For the past few years, Mom had looked wistfully at the apple picking flyers every time we passed by the travel agency a few blocks from our apartment. We’d finally saved enough to go. We had only brought containers of tap water with us for our day trip. Mom had reasoned there’d be plenty of apples to eat.
I looked at my sister and dad standing guard at the base of the apple tree, ready to catch the apples. I looked up at my mom perched high up in the apple tree, beaming down at us. I hadn’t seen Mom that happy in a long time, and her happiness was infectious.
My stomach growled. I picked up another apple and bit into it.
To this day, although I can’t stand the taste of them, apples still remind me fondly of my mother.
The Financial Times occasionally publishes something that isn’t hot garbage.
Unfortunately, neither the FT nor any other Western news outlet has managed to zero in on the most salient point of Xi’s statements last week regarding American containment.
We Chinese are notorious circumspect in our official rhetoric. We rarely name countries when we criticize them, even when it is painfully obvious which country we’re referring to. Xi broke with this convention when he accused the US by name of containment (among other offenses) against China.
Qin Gang, the new Foreign Minister and former Ambassador to the US, also broke the same convention and named the US in his inaugural address to the international press.
Qin also made an allusion that no Western reporter picked up on. He used the phrase “if the wolf comes 若是豺狼来了” when referring to the US. This is not a random Chinese idiom. It is a specific reference to the theme song of the quintessential Korean War movie, 上甘岭 (Battle of Triangle Hill), My Motherland 我的祖国. The famous lyric goes: 【若是那豺狼来了，迎接它的有猎枪】”If the wolf comes, we will meet him with our guns.” That is as explicit of a threat to arms as any Chinese official is ever going to make. I don’t know if Qin Gang meant for it to be picked up by foreign media or if he meant it purely for domestic consumption, but the subtext here is loud and clear: that the new administration in Beijing has come to a consensus that the use of military force is necessary, if not unavoidable.
—
It’s difficult to overstate how momentous this turn of events is.
Any scholar of modern Chinese history will know that China (unlike Japan) telegraphs its military actions months, if not years in advance.
It hopes that the threat of military action will cause the opposing side to back off and avoid war.
This is what Mao did before the Korean War when it warned the American repeatedly that China will intervene if the Americans don’t halt their advance towards the Chinese-Korean border.
The same happened in 1962 with India, and again in 1979 with Vietnam.
No one can say that China doesn’t warn people.
These parallel addresses from Xi and Qin are obvious telegraphed threats to deter the Americans from further intervention in Taiwan.
Needless to say they, will fall on deaf ears in Washington as both American parties try to one-up each other on how much they can piss off the Chinese. For example, Kevin McCarthy, the new Republican Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi’s successor, has already stated that he will visit Taiwan, just like Pelosi did.
The age of great power conflict is truly upon us once again, and as horrific as the Ukrainian War has been, it is but an appetizer to the mass devastation yet to come.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I did everything right… and I lost it all.
I never spent everything I made, invested early, figured out the ways “advisers” were making money off their advice and not giving me their best (hell, most of them didn’t even know they were giving bad advice), took calculated risks that paid off, and accumulated a fluid portfolio. I timed the markets accurately, getting out before the crash in 2000, 08, and the real estate crash in 2005. I reinvested with no loss in a downmarket and made more money.
But there was a hole in my boat. A leak I never would have believed.
I was involved in a new business that required large amounts of money on occasion, so needed some fluidity. I had the money, and was prepared. Everything was smooth sailing.
And then I opened an envelope.
The envelope contained a bill for a maxed out credit card. A card I had cancelled after making sure it was paid off. I called and found out that my wife had reopened the account. I asked my wife about it and she got this deer in the headlights look. She made excuses that sounded, if not reasonable at least legitimate from her point of view, and swore that it was the only debt she had.
And then I opened a second envelope.
To make a long story short I found out that cars paid for in cash now had loans on them. Credit cards I’d cancelled or never knew about were maxed out. A line of credit established with a bank, for emergency purposes, was completely drained. Accounts full of cash were empty.
And each step of the way my wife claimed it was the last one.
I had some pretty dark thoughts.
The financial ruin spread. We had enough cash to cover the debts, but that sunk the business. We had to sell our newly acquired real estate in the still down market, and on some we broke even and on others we only got a fraction of profit on what should have been good investments.
What was the worst part, was that there was no way for us to make up the losses. Which meant that my ego wasn’t just bruised… it was shattered. My life goal was to leave my children a financial legacy, a safety net, a family trust they could tap as they matured into retirement, something that they could use to send their children to college. And to provide for my wife and I in imminent retirement.
The well was deep and black and the sides were too slippery to climb.
I decided to ruin my wife by dragging her down with me. Divorce was not good enough. Murder was too kind.
You must understand that I’ve always loved my wife. Always supported her in her decisions, encouraged her, and always treated her as I would want to be treated.
And she had betrayed me.
I wished she had cheated on me. There would have been less dire repercussions.
I started to plan our future, a way to place her in dire straits before I took the long walk.
But something happened. Perhaps the one thing my ego needed was an incontrovertible and completely honest compliment. Something no person could give me, because I no longer trusted human beings. Something that restored my faith in myself.
After dropping my wife off at work (thank God she was working) I decided to walk the small gambling town we were living in. One of the bars had poker tables. I’d played maybe twenty games of draw poker in my life, never for any real money, and that was before I got married 30 years ago. The table I sat down at was dealing Texas Hold’um. Ten players per table, and several tables in a tournament. “Nickle roll” poker that only cost ten bucks to buy a seat. It was something to do, to take my mind off… everything.
I won the third tournament I played.
In the next three months I played 120 tournaments. Half the time I was at the final table. Half of those I was in the money. I won four in a row, and one week I won six of eleven I played.
There is nothing like self-affirmation not dependent on other human beings. It literally saved my life. And it gave me something else. A new perspective.
I forgave my wife.
The worst part now is that I will never be able to trust her again, completely.
We live on social security now. A simple and surprisingly easy life so far. We can’t travel anywhere that requires the expense of a hotel bill. But we’ve saved a little money. As long as there are no surprises we may make it. And that’s okay.
Check your mail…
Beef and Spinach Enchiladas
Yield: 8 servings
2023 03 18 16 48
Ingredients
1 pound lean beef or turkey
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 cups frozen cut leaf spinach
4 ounces cream cheese
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 can chopped green chiles
2 cups shredded Monterey jack cheese, divided
8 (8 inch) flour tortillas
1 can tomato sauce
1 cup chunky salsa
2 tablespoons cilantro or chopped green onion
Instructions
Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Spray a 13 x 9-inch glass baking dish.
In 12-inch skillet cook beef and garlic. Drain if necessary.
Add spinach to skillet, and cook 3-5 minutes. Reduce heat and add cream cheese, cumin, chiles and 1 1/2 cups of cheese. Spoon 1/3 cup mixture down center of each tortilla. Roll up; place seam side down in baking dish.
In medium bowl mix tomato sauce and salsa. Spoon over tortillas; sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup cheese.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until thoroughly heated.
Sprinkle with cilantro or green onion.
The Hustle / VAN McCOY / Dance / Perfume
Nicely done. Crisp.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
It’s… quite humbling, to say the least. Which in my opinion is a good thing, and I’m very happy it happened.
I didn’t grow up wealthy: I was born in a small town in Southern Indiana, to a pair of poor Kentucky hillbillies, and I spent the first six years of my life not realizing that people lived in things besides house trailers! My mother may have been poor, but she had a great deal of ambition: she moved to Texas, looking to make a fresh start, and a couple years after she left my sister and I were sent down to her.
I had two or three other relatives who had left Indiana, and had happened to get into the real estate business. My mother joined them, and quickly became incredibly, incredibly successful. Six months after she moved to Texas, she was married, driving a Porsche and was an executive at the firm she’d started with.
A couple marriages and 10 years later saw us doing very, very well indeed: my mother and stepfather were firmly in the 1%. We took limos to school, and lived in a big house on an acre of land (and in the middle of the city, where land is very expensive, this was an extravagance indeed!). We expected things to get even better because, well, they always had for us. But the funny thing about life is that it doesn’t really care about your plans, or where you expect your life to go: no, life goes where it chooses, and a single event can turn everything upside down. In our case, that event was Tropical Storm Allison.
Allison completely and utterly devastated my mother and stepfather. All of their wealth was in property, and in their haste to expand their little empire they had forgotten to buy the one thing that every responsible person on the Gulf Coast has, which is flood insurance. Every single one of their properties flooded during the storm, and my life immediately changed. I was on my own at the time, 20 years old and supporting myself… but it was always assumed that my parents would pay for college for me, and it was something they had promised us since we were children. Well, that was long gone: they couldn’t support themselves, so how could we ask them to support us?
College wasn’t the only thing out the window: a year-and-a-half after the flood, my step-father committed suicide, and my mother’s drug and drinking habit got progressively worse. Formerly a functioning addict, within three years she had moved in with my sister and I, and she died in 2008 due to complications from alcoholism. My sister gave in to depression and anxiety, and lost her husband and children.
Me, I ran away from home. I went to trade school, learned a trade and left home for three years. I did a lot of thinking and writing then, and tried to figure out what sort of life I wanted for myself. I had lost everything that I had known… but, being a perpetual optimist, I realized that having a clean slate perhaps wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me. I had the opportunity, now, to figure out what kind of person I wanted to be, and I took advantage of it. After my mother died, I came back home, went back to school and graduated in 2013. I met the woman who became my wife, and we’ve been together nearly 7 years now… and everyday our relationship seems to get better and better. After I got out of school, with my teaching degree, I realized I really didn’t want to teach… and so I went back to the blue collar trade I used to pay my way through school. It certainly isn’t prestigious, but the pay is reasonable and, most importantly, I have peace. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, money comes and goes, but peace is everlasting.
What is your opinion on Chinese communism? Do you think it is more efficient and stable than western democracy or capitalism?
Chinese socialism is more stable and efficient in many ways and for people not just within China. When looking at the success of a system, we need to look at how it affects the entire world.
Western democracy and capitalism has given us:
Wars of extermination of enemies across the world with no repercussions to the invading Western countries
Corporatocracies that run the government and army.
An over reliance on oil energy that has no end in sight.
Manipulating governments and populations around the world to create markets for capitalists.
Aging infrastructure.
Ethno-nationalism and ethnically partisan politics.
A growing population of people with no hope of home-ownership and heathcare.
A growing percentage of homes monopolized by landlords.
Institutionalized disunity.
“Black Mamba” The Bride vs Gogo Yubari
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
It’s absolutely horrible. I was 50, had recently sold my very successful car washes, had a $1MM in my checking account, the big house, kids in private school and life was grand.
I was focused on growing my other business (car wash equipment sales) when the manufacturer we represented lost a client that accounted 1/3 of our business, Hurricane Katrina hit (followed by several other hurricanes), and then the great recession.
I had stopped taking a salary and started loaning the company money. I was determined to work through this.
I even spent my retirement in a last attempt to turn things around.
Fast forward, the company was broke, I was broke, and I couldn’t pay the house mortgage.
I had to give up the house and shut down the business.
A personal bankruptcy soon followed, and then a separation from my wife of 30 years. The stress was unbearable, and I contemplated suicide.
The only thing that stopped me was that my dad had taken his life when I was 26, and I knew first hand the pain that my loved ones would bear for my actions.
The worst part is the loss of self confidence and depression, followed by the loss of “friends”. It’s amazing how quickly they disappear!
I will say that two friends stuck by me. One in particular would check on me and take me out to ride his motorcycles to help take my mind off of things.
I moved into a friend’s rental property and I started looking for work.
I had owned my own companies since college, was a past Entrepreneur of the Year finalist, and had never really worked for anyone. At the worst, I was working at a construction company repairing equipment in their yard, collecting food stamps and living alone.
Fast forward a couple of years.
My wife and I got back together, we moved to Texas, and I took a job back in my industry (building car washes). We now rent a nice home, and were recently able to buy a nice used car. It gets better every day. I love my job, and I hope to get back into car wash ownership (with investors), while continuing to do what I do.
In summary, there are a couple of important lessons to take from this:
Good times don’t last; bad times don’t last.
Most of the people who claim to be your friend are only there for the good times.
Business associates that you’ve spent millions of dollars with over decades will instantly turn their back on you when the money stops.
Don’t ever stop taking care of yourself. Exercise is great for relieving the stress.
Face facts. Recognize when you have a losing hand and walk away. And if bankruptcy is inevitable, just do it. Don’t procrastinate and stick your head in the sand.
Do not EVER use your retirement money. I used mine to try and save the company, and I am now 60 years old and starting over.
Never stop believing in yourself.
The utter stupidity of Australia…
Not from MM. -MM
As Chinese, we have many things to be thankful for. But perhaps prime among them is the utter stupidity of our enemies:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ALV_eFrfOEM
To sum it up: the Australian plan to “counter” China is to field 8 nuclear-power submarines… against the PLAN, the navy with the greatest number of anti-submarine frigates on Earth… and to fight a war in the Taiwan Strait (max depth: 50 meters, shallow enough to spot a sub with the naked eye).
And that’s not even considering the absurdity of Australia, basically a coal mine with a flag, going to war against the country that buys most of its coal.
It’s one layer of stupidity on top of another, like a stupidity wedding cake.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I learned how to re-define poor, when I realized that money is not how to measure wealth.
I went from a $165,000 year job to a $50,000 a year job, managing an a charitable organization. After auditing the books I realized the organization could not afford to pay my salary. I cut it down to $40,000. The job was one of the best I ever worked.
After one year, I was asked to stay on for 5 years, but could not make that long of a commitment. I hired a replacement and the replacement has far exceeded anything I could have accomplished to increase the effectiveness of the organization. wonderful person. Meanwhile, I became unemployed and lived in my car in the parking lot of the local train station. Being a Christian, I had my Bible with me. Every time I sat in my car and read the Bible, I felt Jesus was in the car with me. I was at home.
Over the next year I applied for over 60 jobs, literally across the globe, both civilian and military. The final touch was when I applied for a job as a janitor to clean bathrooms. I had such a job as a college student, so I knew how to do it. However, I was not hired, as being unqualified to clean toilets. At that point I laughed to myself and said, “Jesus, you must have something important to tell me, because it is statistically impossible for me not to get hired.” I made it my job to walk in whole-hearted faith and obedience to Him. That lasted a year.
I did whatever I sensed I was being told to do. I learned that Jesus would and could take care of my need for housing, food, transportation. Not my wants, but my needs. It was a great time. Enjoyed it a lot. I had one microwave plastic tray for a plate, a taco bell plastic cup, one spoon, one knife and one fork. No kitchen goods. No furniture but an inflatable air mattress and folding chair (tiny desk lamp sat on the chair). I lived in a rental property I owned that was in foreclosure. I worked on the property to clean it up for sale. I sat on the stairway to eat my meals, one stair for a chair and another for a table. But I was happy. There was a joy in sensing I was right where I was supposed to be, in the will of God. Prayer was fun, worship was rich, met many interesting people. Money would show up when I needed it, but most of the time I had maybe $40 or less.
So, looking back at it, I would say that as a white-collar professional earning 6 figures, I was kind of poor in the things that mattered, but when unemployed, but close to Jesus and with Godly friends, I became rich. Losing money changes your sense of values.
It is quite liberating to own nothing. I have yet to see a Brink’s armored truck at a graveyard. So, laboring for decades to have stuff and money, only to die at the end without having experienced the love and grace of God is the ultimate poverty.
The Chase: Twins vs Morpheus | The Matrix Reloaded [Open Matte]
Every society has a moral code, a collection of unwritten rules that govern the behavior the members toward one another and with the outside world. A moral code, of course, is a collection of rules reflecting the moral preferences of society. These things and activities are good, while these things and activities are bad. The authority for these preferences can be the gods, tradition or what the rulers prefer. Fashion, after all, is just the sartorial preferences of the people in charge.
Despite what conservatives insist, the moral code of a society is a top down affair, imposed by the people in charge. Their preferences start at their primary preference, which is to remain in charge. That means the preferences the rulers impose on their subjects reflects their interests, at least how they see their interests. It is not a perfect link as elite society is as subject to evolutionary pressure as the rest of society, but it is a good place to start in understanding the elite.
Since a moral code regulates behavior, we can look at behavior and do a bit of reverse engineering to get a peak at the code. What are the things the elites do that point to what they prefer and not prefer? It is not what they say, as people say what they think they are supposed to say. This is especially true of elites. What matters is what they do as this indicates what they value. One thing libertarians got right is the concept of revealed preferences. Actions are what matter.
For example, we have the constant lying from official Washington. They lie about everything to the point where it is the norm. No one is bothered to be outraged as it is just how the things are now. It is the line incorrectly attributed to Alexander Solzhenitsyn, but written by Elena Gorokhova. “The rules are simple: they lie to us, we know they’re lying, they know we know they’re lying, but they keep lying to us, and we keep pretending to believe them.”
Obviously, truth in the empirical sense is not important. Dig deeper and you see that the lying is mostly in service to narratives that define the world of Washington. In other words, they are not lying to deceive so much as lying to support a version of reality that is preferred at the moment. They see the truth and the lie as means to an end, judged only on the ends. What counts is the narrative, while facts are just props in the narrative structure, used only when needed.
What this tells us is the people inside the political system are not hostile to the people, but indifferent to them. The lying is not an effort to trick the people into supporting one thing or another, but mostly about internal considerations. Even the lies over Covid, which were an effort to shape behavior, were actually in service to the narrative they created around the virus. Immiserating millions of people was a happy accident, but never the point of their lying about Covid.
We have a couple of recent examples that are useful in understanding what truly matters to the elites. First is this case involving a couple of fringe goofballs using robocalls to mock black people. Americans receive billions of bogus calls, despite it being illegal, but these two warranted special attention. The judge makes clear that if they had mocked Irish people, for example, it would have been fine. They targeted black people and no one is allowed to mock the gods.
We have this case of four black people who drove to Mexico so one of them could get cosmetic surgery, but they got carjacked instead. Sadly, thousands of Americans are attacked by Mexicans around the border ever year. Of course, tens of millions of people from around the world stream over the border. This not only damages the lives Americans near the border, but it has ruined life around the country. This is cheered by the political class as the browning of America.
This case is different. You see, the four people involved are black and no one is allowed to lay a hand on our sacred black people. Lady Bugs Graham is now demanding we go on jihad against Mexico as retribution. Official Washington is suddenly ablaze with angry rhetoric about what is happening south of the border. Mexicans kill white people every day in America, but when they killed a couple of black people, they crossed a line in elite moral code that must be addressed.
Of course, anyone paying the least bit of attention could come up with a dozen such cases where elites are moved to action because an issue involves black people, but they are indifferent when it involves white people. Candace Owens is a millionaire because she tells white people they are good boys, very good boys. Even so, this Mexican case is threatening to change policy regarding Mexico. It is not just a show to signal their virtue to one another.
A century ago, Paris was gripped by something called negrophilia which is derived from the French négrophilie that means love of the negro. The beautiful people would collect African art and hang out at Jazz clubs. Much of it was driven by exposure to black troops from America and Africa during the war. The controlling factor was the desire of the avant-garde to feel trendy and separate from the bourgeoise. It was all superficial and eventually was replaced by new fads.
Today’s version is something more than a fad. It is not just a weapon to be used against the remaining white people. What we are seeing is antiwhite, but it is not necessarily hatred of whites that is the source of this new moral code. Instead, it seems to be a genuine worship of black people, as if they are magical beings. Our elites now think they will be judged by how well they take care of black people. Who will do the judging is never spoken, but that just adds to the mystery.
That last bit is important. Much of what we see from our elites fits the pattern of religiosity, but it lacks the explicit supernatural authority. They never say why they worship black people. They never point to an authority for this behavior. It is just assumed to be there at the center of things. Perhaps that is what gives it power in the minds of these people. Their moral code is now a mystery cult in which it is essential to not know why you embrace the moral code.
A million years ago in another context, John Derbyshire made the following observations about cults. “To those inside [a cult], it appears to be a structure of perfect logical integrity, founded on unassailable philosophical principles, while to those outside it seems to some degree nutty; to some other degree hysterical; and to some yet other degree a threat to liberty.” This sounds eerily accurate with regards to the worship of nonwhites by our ruling classes.
What we are seeing is the evolution of a cult of the elite, in which salvation is sought through the worship of that which symbolizes the antithesis of the West. This explains the extremism of these people. How can you be satisfactorily anti-Western? How can one be satisfactorily worshipful of black people? What is the outer limit of the rejection of biological reality? There is no answer to these things, so cult members keep looking for an even more extreme expression of these values.
Returning to where we have started, an objective examination of elite behavior reveals a bizarre moral code that is out of sync with reality. That gap between what they believe, their moral preferences, and reality, is the measure of their virtue. In other words, the way to understand elite behavior is to imagine a cult founded on the rejection of human reality and then that cult gains control of society. That is the condition of the West and it is probably not going to cure itself.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
$350 Million to Zero in less than a year.
Over the course of a decade, I built an international business with 3.5K employees.
My partner was jailed in Europe for defrauding one of the countries out of $14 Million in tax-grants.
Many of our largest customers, concerned that we would have delivery problems, took production of the designs we completed for them, to other mfgs, and instead of receiving the full design fee and $ per part in mfg, we received only the design fee and a royalty based on the production volume that would now be accomplished elsewhere.
Our cost structure was based upon having the production volume, when that was reduced drastically, the company could no longer afford the employees and facilities throughout the U.S., Europe and Asia.
It all started to collapse inward. Impossible to stop the run from our production facilties as more customers became concerned.
My company dropped $350 Million in sales, to Zero in less than a year.
I had been flying over 200K miles per year on business, and working 80 hour weeks. Tremendous stress.
When it was over, fewer friends, crazy debt, a lot of stress, but that subsided over time, and came to know who my true friends were.
Like I’ve always said, money doesn’t buy happiness, but it does buy the best form of misery. When you don’t have the money, life is much more difficult.
But I gained a lot of time to spend with my family. That was the true benefit of losing the company and $$$.
These China “Experts” need to be stopped
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
ĺIn 2006 I was married with two boys in private schools. I lived in a three-story house in one of the best suburbs in the city. I had a corporate yacht, drove a porsche 911, had been offered $20 million for my business two years earlier which I had declined. I owned around $4 million in real estate, flew first class on family holidays every year and took my eighty-odd staff on four-day conferences to five-star resorts every year. At thirty-nine, I was featured as sixty-fifth in our country’s richest under forty. I was the only child of a single parent migrant mum so I had experienced poverty and felt I had accomplished plenty—a classic, rags to riches story, life was good, but as they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.
2009 following the GFC I had three staff left and had moved to a much smaller office. We were just keeping our heads above water trying to wait out the fallout when we became embroiled in a legal battle with a large multi-national who we funded our mortgages through, GE Money was itself experiencing problems due to the GFC and decided it would no longer pay us the monthly fees due.
We had to wait for the outcome of the court proceedings to start getting paid again and the company dragged it out for four years which saw the yacht, the car, the three remaining staff, and eventually the business go before we could get our day in court. Soon after, my marriage broke down and I relinquished the house to my wife without a fight, hoping she would be a good caretaker for the kids’ inheritance and keep it safe from creditors. The kids took the separation badly and my eldest son, who was in his mid teens, spiraled out of control with alcohol and drugs.
Thinking creditors would soon take whatever money was left, I rented a luxury apartment overlooking the harbour and locked myself away until the money ran out, waiting to hit rock bottom. I know now what I didn’t know then, that I was suffering from extreme depression. I stopped contacting people and would leave phone calls, mail, and emails unanswered. I hit the booze hard, as I sold off the remaining business assets to pay for rent and food. I kept thinking of ideas to start a new business but would keep putting it off, until four years later I had only $60,000 left.
While times were good I had given my mum a mobile phone and a cab charge card, as by that stage she was a pensioner and did not drive. They were the last things I reined in and it was hard to do, as mum would constantly tell me how proud she was of me and bragged to anyone who would listen about my success. Finally I plucked up enough courage to tell her I had to stop paying for both and in a series of unfortunate incidents mum started to show the first signs of dementia. Her decline was rather quick and it became obvious to me that she could no longer look after herself as the cleanliness of the house of my usually compulsively clean mother deteriorated rapidly.
Seeing my mum in such a state must have snapped me out of my depression because I moved in with her and began upgrading and cleaning the house. Within two years her conditioned had declined so much that I had become her full-time caretaker: cooking, cleaning, taking her to medical appointments and outings, but as her health further declined I could not keep up the level of care her condition now required, so I eventually found a good nursing home for her. I was again without a purpose but I was over the depression (mum’s final unintended—but most valuable—gift to me before entering the nursing home).
The solicitor helping me with mum’s paper work offered me a partnership to help him grow his business. My son had regained control over his life and both were now in universities. I had not spoken to my wife since the breakup. I was happy with the level of care mum was receiving and I was back on track working on growing a new business again, but I was soon to learn that falls from grace like that are not so easily forgiven.
The first sign that this was not a fresh start came ten months into the partnership when we tried to get an overdraft and it was declined due to the fact that I now had a bad credit rating. This put a strain on the partnership even though we had managed substantial growth. Then my partner received a call from child services: apparently they had assessed my income at $400,000 a year and I was suppose to be paying my wife child support for the last six odd years based on that level of income, even though my income was nil and I was living off of selling off assets. The debt was now over $90,000 and they wanted to garnishee my drawings from the business. In the same week the tax office called to say they wanted to garnishee my drawings for an outstanding tax debt of $50,000 from the sale of some of the real estate assets. A week after that phone call I received a message from my partner while at home:
“The locks on the premises at work have been changed, you can no longer operate the company bank accounts and I have removed you as a director and shareholder on the company register, don’t bother coming in. I would encourage you to fight me but I know you don’t have the money.”
I was devastated, but I was dertremined to get my life back on track. After applying for over a hundred jobs and getting knocked back, I was feeling like a failure and finding it hard not to fall back into the pit of depression. It was looming just on the horizon, beckoning for me to escape again into a drunken state of self pity. I felt like I was in a scene from the movie Trading Places.
One day one of my boys made the comment to me that I was the role model for him and his brother, implying they need to see how I handle situations so they can learn from it. While I didn’t answer them as I was acutely aware that I was at one of the lowest points of my life, it served to reminded me that wealth and health in this life come and go. When money is not an issue, honesty and integrity are easy to come by. How someone deals with adversity is the true indication of a person’s character. The legacy I want to leave them as a father has become the main motivation for me not to give up.
Discovering Quora and answering business questions was a Godsend as the reactions I was getting from answers kept reminding me that I still had a great deal of business acumen and skill.
I went into consulting and managed to pick up four regular clients and the odd, single session consulting job. While I loved the work, I was spending over 50% of my time chasing payments which I hated with a passion.
Around the same time I found myself dumping one evening on a good Russian friend. Her response resonated with me:
“There’s an old Russian saying that says ‘If you want to know which direction to head in, look at where you’ve been and where you are now—that should point you in the right direction.’”
That night I decided to get back into finance. Much had changed following the GFC and I now needed a credit licence to operate, and I needed an industry diploma to get the licence.
While I am not there yet, I have completed the diploma on line, have re-established old industry contacts, have sorted out the tax office debt. I have a solicitor working for me on the child support debt and I am trying to get the old company name back. I have to constantly fight to keep the depression from surfacing. Now in my 50s, this will be my final shot at rebuilding and I intend to make sure I don’t miss it. While I have relapsed for an evening on the odd occasion, every win is an inch forward and suppressing the feeling of failure and the resulting depression gets easier to manage with every step forward.
If all goes to plan, I should be able to open the doors of a new business with an old name in the next six weeks, but because things rarely ever go to plan so I’m giving myself until the end of this year.
When I look back, even as I write this, I find it easy to blame others, my circumstances, the economy anything but myself for my fall from grace. It takes years to face up to the fact that while many things may have contributed to my present situation but it was mainly my poor decisions that are to blame.
Hopefully when I am back there again, it will be as someone who is older, wiser, more experienced and certainly more humble than in the past.
Edit 14/9/19: I am overwhelmed by the support readers are showing. I never expected this answer to get so much attention and initially I was going through and acknowledging every comment and answering every question but this morning I woke up to over 1,000 notifications. Up-votes are near 5,000 and readership is approaching 90,000. It is both motivating and inspiring.
I want to thank everybody that has commented and up-voted this answer, and in particular those that have indicated a connection with my story by being in similar circumstances. To you I wish all the best for the future and say to you what I constantly say to myself, “though the mountain looks daunting, if you have climbed it before, there is no reason why you cant climb it again,” but let’s not focus on the climb, having fallen, been hurt and recovered, let’s instead remember the remarkable view from the top as we inch forward.
Edit 22/10 Over 14000 upvotes, hundreds of responses, 120 shares and approaching 250K views. I feel somewhat overwhelmed by the support of strangers and want to thank everyone that took the time to upvote and/or comment.
For those that have asked for an update here is where I am at;
I have been running around trying to reestablish old industry contacts and look for a mortgage funder. I have found 2 willing to support me.
Both I have done business with in the past and one has offered an office on the fringe of the city on a week to week basis and staff support costed out on an as needs basis. This is a huge help for a start up and I am grateful the relationship remained solid and for their faith in me.
The other has just been appointed as the CEO of a new funding company using block chain technology.
I have also been talking to two other people in the industry about a potential partnership. This has fallen through after weeks of discussions but fortunately I continued to progress as solo operator in case it fell through.
The tax office debt has been resolved and extinguished and I have caught up on 3 years tax returns.
I have found a government program that pays $1000 a month for a year to aid with a start up and provides a business coach for 3 months and I have enrolled into it. It’s not a lot but it’s going to be a huge help in those first 12 months.
Also this morning I received an offer for an interview for a senior role in a well-funded startup. It is just an interview which I will attend (like many before) but will continue to progress the business plan in the probable event I am not accepted for the role and will decide whether to take it if an offer is made. That decision will depend on how much more progress I have made toward my startup business, I have already invested a lot of time in progressing it forward.
I have researched trying to get the old name back, as there is some residual marketing value in the name (I used to spend $50K a month on advertising). My accountant is working on it. Unfortunately, although flattering, quite a few companies in finance decided to use the name the moment the trademark expired, but my accountant thinks it may be possible.
I negotiated a final settlement with the solicitor; it was nowhere near what it was worth, but I needed to close that chapter and move on.
Some obstacles still to overcome:
The child support case is ongoing. While the department acknowledges I was not earning $400,000 a year, they are relying on the fact that I am out of time to protest their decision. and I should have done it 5 years ago, so the debt stands. I explained that I was in a depression, but not having a doctor’s certificate to prove it according to them makes it just “hearsay”. I am appealing the decision.
I received a letter from the Department of Human services to say that since mum owns a house and she has now been in full-time care for over 12 months, under new laws that applied after 1/1/17 (she entered the nursing home on 1/9/17), anyone with a home in full-time care for over 12 months forgoes their pension. I have applied for a reverse mortgage against her home to help pay for her care, but it can only be a temporary solution, so I need to start earning enough money quickly to fund her care.
Thank you all again for your support. Whenever I feel I’m in over my head, I go back to this post and take the time to read all your uplifting comments, and 20 minutes of doing so recharges my resolve to see this through.
Hopefully the next edit will be the day I open the doors of the new business.
EDIT 17 December 2019
Well it’s nearly the end of the year. Reading all the comments on this thread has become my “go to” when I need a pick up; and again, thank you all for your kind words of support. This I hope will be my final update.
I mentioned in an earlier edit that I was going for a job interview. It turns out it was for a partnership role in a startup. I was offered the partnership and very excited mainly due to the caliber of the other 3 partners. As they say, the sum of the total skill and knowledge base in the partnership is more valuable than the sum of the individual parts. Exciting enough for me to walk away from my own startup as well as the government grant based on the strength and skillset of my potential partners .
The startup is what is know in the industry as a “Fintech”, a finance business that relies heavily on modern technology platforms. I am honored to be partnering with such high-caliber people and that they even see me as a colleague. To date, the company has been formed, a placeholder webpage has been developed, a pitch deck presentation is being worked on to take to venture capitalists, and an outline of the business model has been developed.
We start officially in February, and I am in the process of tying up loose ends.
To that extent the only two things left to clear up is mum’s pension to cover her care costs and the child support debt, which I continue to work on. There is also a Parliamentary inquiry into the child support system that I intend to make a submission to, while it won’t help me directly, I am sure it will help many who might end up in my situation in the future.
While this will be my last update on this thread. I continue to get wonderful comments from strangers all over the world who connect with my story, made more so by those of you who comment about being inspired by my plight. The fact is that every time I come back to this thread, it is your comments of support that have inspired me.
Why did the Australia. Government agree to the one sided AUKUS deal to buy American and British submarines?
The best person to answer that question is Former Australia’s PM Paul Keating
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmgxAoa1n-8
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What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I grew up in paradise, 12 (13? I feel like I’m forgetting one) cars in the driveway; muscle cars, sports cars, you name it, at one point or other – if it was a cool car – one of em probably sat on our driveway.
We lived in a sprawling villa, approx 700 sqm, with 360° views – the sea, and the mountains. Paradise.
My father captained Sweden’s largest sailing vessel, she didn’t stay Swedish for long as she was soon under Spanish flag.
My mother ran a hotel painted by a local artist with palm trees and beach scenes in the front.
I went to private school and brought home pretty much any animal imaginable; ferrets, rabbits, chickens, dogs, horses… it didn’t matter, we had a family living in the tower who waited on us hand and foot.
I was known as the “spoiled kid” throughout in not just my class – but all classes, literally everyone knew who we were. Dad would pick me up in a different car every day, depending on his mood it might have been the wine red Monte Carlo that could barely traverse half our mountain village – it was so wide, or it could be the V12 XJS Jaguar; the top down, the dogs chilling in the back. Mum picked me up on her race horse a couple of times, she was retired (the horse, not mum).
We were a batshit family – on the surface, and at home.
I was always told I’d be a millionaire as I turned 18. I didn’t quite grasp that we were “rich” until the divorce started…
The divorce. Damn.
We lost it all, because my parents were “unable” to speak to each other if not through lawyers. Expensive lawyers. 10 years they didn’t speak, until I disappeared in a war zone for 10 days (that’s a story for another time). The divorce was known on the coast as the “circus show” and was quite a spectacle everytime they appeared in court.
Anyway, the sheer stress and depression that the hate caused made both parts take awful monetary decisions.
At 16, I was shipped off from my horses and paradise villa to an island not far off Gothenburg in Sweden.
I’d never lived in an apartment, the other kids quite literally thought I was telling fibs when I disclosed anything about my family… so I shut up, and began isolating myself.
Anyway, sure, I’m depressed and I dream of that house and I cry for my home… but, it’s not the riches I miss, it’s the happy go lucky times. I desperately want those rag times to come back. I wish we all were as happy as when we were rich.
So, how does it feel? Pretty shit.
Drunken Master II Fight Scene – Market Fight – ORIGINAL HK Soundtrack
Every war is a part of a larger story of relations between the nations that fought in the war and the war in Ukraine is not an exception. This war started a year ago, but it is part of the story that started in 2014. of course, that chapter was preceded by the aftermath of the Cold War. In the case of the neocons driving American policy, their portion of this story begins during the Trial of the 193. Like all stories, the war will end and what will follow are more chapters to close out this story arc.
Within the war itself there are chapters. In the case of Ukraine, the first chapters could be called the pre-awakening. Both the Russians and Ukrainians, assumed this would be a short affair ending in rounds of talks. The Europeans, in contrast, thought it would be a short affair as well, but instead ending in a Russian collapse. They had been assured by their American handlers that Russia was a hollow country. Once the sanctions hit them, the peasants would revolt.
Interestingly, all parties kept on believing their version of the plot even after it should have been clear they were wrong. The Russians kept pressing for negotiations, even after Ukraine told them Washington would not allow it. The Europeans kept pushing new sanctions packages, even after it was clear the Russian economy was not going to collapse and there would be no peasant revolt. For a few months last spring and summer, everyone stuck with the old script.
It appears that it was the Russians who were the first to realize that the script was wrong and that they needed to rethink things. The mobilization of reserves along with a reorganization of their military structure in Ukraine followed. The Russians figured out that this is a long war of attrition between Moscow and its allies versus the American Empire and its allies. What we have seen for the last six months is a slow, deliberate grind of the Ukrainians by the Russians.
We are about to see the final closing of one chapter of this war and the opening of a new chapter due to developments on the battlefield. The first and most important bit of news is the encirclement of a town called Bakhmut. If you look at this pro-Ukrainian deployment map, you see the line of contact in Ukraine. In this case, pro-Ukrainian does not mean pure propaganda. It simply relies primarily on Ukrainian sources to assemble the map and unit positions.
If you zoom into the area dead center of the line of contact, you will find the town called Bakhmut and see a large grouping of Ukrainian forces. They have been throwing everything they can into this town in order to hold it. The Russians now have the town surrounded, with tens of thousands of Ukrainian troops inside it. It appears that Zelensky has instructed the forces inside this cauldron to fight to the last man, much as he did last year with the Mariupol garrison.
There are two primary reason Zelensky and the general staff are sacrificing tens of thousands of men for this town. One reason is strategic. It is the keystone to this defense line in the Donbas. If it falls, the Ukrainians will have to fall back to their last line of defense east of the Dnieper River. That last defensive line is not as built up as the current defensive positions. The Ukrainians are buying as much time as they can in order to build up that new defense line.
The other reason for this massive sacrifice of men and machines is the general psychology of the war on the Ukrainian side. They have been told since the start that they just needed to hang on until the Russians crumbled. Then they were told to hang on until the West could provide wonder weapons. Now they are hanging on because they have no other option. For Zelensky, this war is about buying time while hoping for some change that will save him from his fate.
Another reason for the great turning of the page that is coming in this war relates to that waiting strategy of the Ukrainians. They are running out of supplies. Reports keep coming in from Ukrainian sources that they are out of ammunition. The reason they are out of ammunition is the West cannot get ammunition to them fast enough. The reason for that is the West is running out of ammunition as well. After a year of ground war, the Western warehouses are now empty.
The issue has become so critical that the people running foreign policy had Biden sign “a presidential waiver of some statutory requirements (Waiver) authorizing the use of the Defense Production Act (DPA) to allow the Department of Defense (DoD) to more aggressively build the resiliency of America’s defense industrial base and secure its supply chains.” This is the first step in transitioning the economy to wartime, which means prioritizing defense over civilian items.
Something similar is afoot in Europe. What the West has come to realize is they were all wrong about the Russian economy. It has performed better over the last year than the European economies. They were also wrong about Russia’s standing in the world, particularly with other major powers like China and India. They have not been willing to go along with Washington’s war on Moscow. Eighty percent of the world’s population now supports the Russian side in this conflict.
Another piece of this is a bit of reality Western leaders have ignored for so long they stopped thinking about it. That is, the industrial base of the West no longer exists as a practical matter. Generations of offshoring and global supply chain management have left Western countries with a tiny manufacturing base. China now has more manufacturing capacity than the U.S. and Europe combined. Throw in Russia, Brazil and India and you see the problem.
The shape of the next chapter in this new global war is still unclear, but one storyline will be the looming political crisis in the West. The sanctions regime is simply unsustainable for Europe so it must come to an end. It cannot come to end until the war in the Ukraine has come to an end. The trouble is European political leaders have ruled out any end other than Ukrainian tanks rolling through Moscow. Europe has created an unsolvable problem for itself.
Another part of the story could be a change in China. For a long time the Chinese have viewed their relationship with Washington as purely economic. If they did good business with Washington, everything else solved itself. Beijing now sees that things have changed and so they are changing. All of the war talk over Taiwan has finally convinced the Chinese to adjust their position. Sino-American relations will no longer be about business, but about great power conflict.
Of course, all of this will be happening against the backdrop of a political class in Washington that looks like the shuffleboard courts in Boca. Everyone who wants to be Pericles in this war is too old to say the name clearly. Of course, Washington is full of potential Cleons among the younger generations of politicians, but none of them are bright enough to understand it. As this war enters the crisis chapters, the West is desperately short of men who are good in a crisis.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I would consider myself financially well off before the crash in 2008. Although most of my work history was medical, I had become a mortgage broker in 2003. I had gone through burn out and needed to do something a little more conducive to uplifting outcomes for a while. I enjoyed helping people obtain their dream. I swore I’d be upfront about the pitfalls to my clients, I’d educate them on the process, and I’d be diligent in bringing it all together in a timely fashion. I was able to purchase any thing I desired, eat out all the time, and work in my pajamas at home if I desired. Life was good, and actually the best ever.
Months before the crash we saw the bursting bubble on the horizon. However, denial still flowed through my veins, and many like myself were unprepared for the abrupt onset of the inability to complete loans. I had spent the majority of my savings months before on back surgery because I didn’t bother purchasing insurance. I didn’t think I needed it because l took my health for granted.
My life went like this…..
severe debilitating back pain from 2 herniated disks followed by surgery and recovery. Midway through my recovery the mortgage business CRASHES and BURNS!! No savings, no incoming work, unable to get processed loans closed, no money coming in. My father dies unexpectedly and I’m consumed with sadness. I sell all my belongings to move out of my “pending foreclosure” home, and to have something to live on as no one is hiring at the time. My car was repossessed, my credit cards were maxed and unpaid. I had an emergency total hysterectomy, and had to spend my savings on the surgery. Now there’s no money for rent so I move in with my 23 year old son and his two roommates. This was the most humiliating low point for me. I total my car I traded a tv and computer for. Since I had no money to purchase it, I bartered. I had no insurance so it was a total loss. My mother passed away. Now the reality hits I have no parents. Sadness overwhelms me along with feelings of no hope. I suffer a bit of a meltdown.
I go back to school to update my medical skills and retain licensure again. I sprain my ankle twice in 3 months, and desperately try to keep up with school while recovering….twice.
I obtain work but it’s 100 miles away. I found out I was older and less resilient then I used to be. I wasn’t able to handle the physical requirements of the job, or the 12 hour night shifts. I had a debilitating iron deficiency I was unaware of at the time, but it wreaked havoc on my physical and emotional abilities. Now no job and no place to live, as my son and his girlfriend had moved in together in a smaller place anticipating my move closer to work. I bought a dilapidated mobile home for $500 (I had to pay in payments as I didn’t have $500) in an old Florida senior park. It wasn’t ghetto, it just wasn’t like other retirement parks in the area with paved roads, swimming pools, club houses, etc. I still did not know the origin of my overwhelming lethargy (iron deficiency) and literally had no energy to move or rehab this home. My son and his friends gutted it for me and got my electric and water in place. However, no one had time to renovate it completely, and I had no money to do it. So I moved the few things I had left into this barren old place.
Seven years later I’m still tweaking things in my home, and decorating to my taste. My bills are minimal and I live within a budget. I pay cash for everything, including my car and furnishings. I’ve gone on to get my Bachelors and Masters degrees in my lifelong interest of Psychology. I do preventative healthcare, and have coverage for any medical expenses. I don’t buy new, always second hand. I buy disaster furnishings and make them into something I adore, far more than anything that’s new. I live simply and without stress of finances. I love where I live and my little home. I’ve learned more about life and myself since losing everything, than I did the 25 years before that. I feel grateful that the circumstances occurred the way they did for me to get to this place in time. I feel consistently happy about life. As hard as it was going through all the loss and changes it was for the best, definitely!!
The Ten Commandments – Moses’ Focus and Dedication
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
To put it in short, it feels like shit.
I’m writing this as a 14 year old, living in a pile of garbage compared to my life 2 years ago. Although I hate my life now, I’m not stupid. I’ve learned to appreciate every little small thing in life and I know that it could be a lot worse.
If we rewind back to 2011, my family was just getting back to our wealthy status after the financial crisis in 2008. Our net worth in 2011, was maybe $3 Million which doesn’t seem like a lot but it makes an incredible difference when you don’t have 100k. We were living in Dubai at the time and living a very good life. Good private schools for me and my little sister, fancy cars for my dad, expensive purses and clothing for my mom. And of course an amazing villa close to the beach.
In the summer of 2011 my family relocated to Canada, Toronto more specifically. This was due to my dad getting a very high paying job in Iraq(he is a banker). I wasn’t told about him moving to Iraq so I wouldn’t worry about him as a kid, but between mid 2011 and 2016 I saw my dad for maybe two months in total. I didn’t like the circumstance but my dad was pulling in close to $800k plus a $400k bonus every year so we would never had to struggle financially again. After I was told about the situation, stories of the 17 bodyguards my dad had with him came out, and it got me to thinking about how much my dad sacrificed for me, my mom and my sister. He was my hero. Every time he visited us he would play sports and video games with me all day, literally the best dad ever.
In late 2015 terrorism was getting to be a bigger problem in Iraq and my dad resigned from his job due to increased danger conditions. I was excited as this meant I would see him a lot now. After about three weeks of him being “retired” he got a job offer in London, England. A very good job, but not as well paying as the one in Iraq.
My family relocated to the UK at the end of December in 2015. Now my dad lived with us, and life was very good. He had a signing bonus that was very high, and we had a large amount of savings. A house of 5 Million British Pounds, a highly spec Range Rover with swaravski crystal detailing, elite private schools. We had money at the time, but couldn’t afford most of the things we had. My dad was overjoyed to finally be with us everyday and wanted to make sure we were relaxed and enjoyed life. So he spent crazy amounts of money on us, putting me and my sister in a school that costs nearly as much as Harvard. Buying a house we couldn’t afford, and cars(because me and him shared the love of cars) that cost as much as the house we live in today.
In mid 2016 my dad was sued for something he didn’t do, and it pretty much ruined his reputation. At that point he was different, always angry. Our savings were close to gone and the lawsuit caused my dad to give up his paycheck for the next 8 months in order to settle. He worked from 6am all the way until midnight at an attempt to get a raise in order to keep us safe financially. The raise didn’t come. He struggled to keep my sister and I in the same school which ate a lot of our savings. We moved to a smaller home, and he sold the cars except for one. A bmw x1 which was the first car he bought for my mom to learn how to drive on the tiny roads in the UK. By the end of 2016 my mom went to the train station to pick up my dad because he was coming home early from work. When the front door to the house opened all I could see was my mom in tears. My dad told us we need to have a family meeting.
He told us that we have to move. First my sister started to cry because she is young and didn’t understand our situation, she said she would miss her friends. My dad said that if we try to live another year here we would end up bankrupt. Then I started to cry because at the time I made some of the best friends I could ever ask for that I still keep in contact with on a daily basis to this day. My dad’s reputation was fucked, excuse my language. And work for him was becoming very difficult because of that. We were gonna move back to Canada, but to a place that has a low cost of living. I pretty much fell into a depression state. I tried to make the best of everything, but my parents were just tired.
I am probably one of the happiest people ever, I smile so much to the point where people think I’m crazy. But during the first 6 months I was a disaster, although I ended the school year with a 96% average. At this point I could sense that my dad was losing motivation so I decided to look for a job for him. I found one but it payed like shit. He got the job. His yearly salary is what we went through in less than one month before. My sister and I are in public schools which are complete garbage, and the people are mostly druggies and dumbasses. I haven’t seen my mom smile other than the times I make her laugh. And my dad seems to enjoy his job, although it’s what he was doing 20 years ago in terms of experience.
We saved enough money to put a downpayment on a house that costs less than the cars we used to have. My mom went back to college to get a degree so she can also help with our money problem. And soon I will do the same. I am just wishing my dad can find a job that fits his experience level and things can go back to normal.We have been living as cheaply as we can trying to make the best of things.
And the saddest part of all this is that I feel ashamed of it. It is a family secret and I cannot tell anyone, which is why I’m expressing my emotions on here. It really hurts when someone calls me poor, and I can’t defend myself because of a promise to my parents to keep our situation a secret. It really hurts to see your old friends living so lavishly spending thousands a week where you are unable to spend close to anything. It really hurts when all your friends are having a reunion to meet up and catch up with each other but you cant afford to fly out and stay in a hotel. It really hurts because my friends have started to catch on to why I’m the only one unable to visit and I don’t accept their offers to pay for me. It really hurts because my parents are very sensitive to this topic so I can’t talk to anyone about it. This whole situation hurts.
But I have learned to stop being a little bitch and man up. I am doing the best in school that I have ever done, 98% average this semester. While the people around me at school are busy doing and selling drugs, I am the only one mature enough to not want to ruin my future. I am the only one looking for legitimate ways to make extra money on the side so I don’t over whelm my parents. I am no longer depressed but I have the occasional sadness due to missing my old life. But this won’t be my situation for long. I know my dad will eventually find a better job and life will resume its norms. The only thing that motivates me now is the desire to never have this happen again in my life, the desire to learn from this mistake and be grateful for everything, the desire for my future kids to never have to experience what I did.
I guess you could say I am the boy who had no fear until he chased them.
Chicken and Sour Cream Enchiladas
sour cream chicken enchiladas 5 1
Ingredients
1 (16 ounce) container sour cream, divided
2 cups chopped cooked chicken
8 ounces shredded Colby and Monterey jack cheese, divided
1 jar thick-n-chunky salsa, divided
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro (optional)
12 (6- to 8-inch) corn or flour tortillas
Instructions
Mix one cup of sour cream, chicken, 1 cup of cheese, 1/4 cup salsa and cilantro together. Spoon about 1/4 cup of mixture into the center of each tortilla; roll up. Place, seam side down, in a 13 x 9-inch baking dish. Top with remaining salsa, cover.
Bake at 350 degrees F for 30 minutes.
Sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake an additional 5 minutes or until cheese is melted.
Top with lettuce and tomato, if desired.
Serve with remaining cup of sour cream.
Makes 6 servings.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
My answer will be a little different than the other answers because I am not “very poor” or even poor for that matter, but I can tell you what it’s like to go from wealthy to struggling.
My husband has a prestigious job which requires a certain license, I’m omitting for privacy. He has his own business utilizing this license. Up until 2 years ago, things were financially wonderful. We traveled the world first class. Would spend Valentines at the Eiffel Tower, Chinese New Year in China, St. Patrick’s in Ireland etc. Sometimes we would travel to some exotic country by ourselves, come home and repack then take off the next day to some other exotic locale with our kids and Nannies. All first class of course. Shopping- ridiculous… almost every weekend we would head to the designer stores and drop thousands. My closet is the size of a bedroom and looks like a Chanel / Louis Vuitton/ Hermès/ Louboutin/ Prada/ YSL/ Gucci boutique. Surprises were always fun too- one time we were supposed to leave for Hawaii the next Morning but I was upset with my husband and threatening not to go. His response was coming home with a very expensive bottle of wine and a green box. The wine was great but the $45,000 rose gold Rolex inside it was better. It is my 4th Rolex and my favorite. We bought our dream 6000 square foot house and redid everything exactly how we wanted it. My credit card bill would be anywhere between $17,000 to $50,000 a month, which he would happily pay. We laughed at how ridiculous it was. We had 3 nanny/ housekeepers and 2 private chefs… don’t forget the Driver. Cars- let’s see..: 3 Maserati’s , Ferrari ($400K), Bentley, Escalade, BMW, Mercedes, Range Rover, Limo, Customised Mercedes Limo bus, 2 extremely nice boats etc. We were treated as VIP’s everywhere we went because everyone knew we were big spenders and big tippers. That all being said, on a scale of 1–10 I would have rated my happiness at a 2 or 3. You see my husband is a complete Narcissist and living with him is indescribable.
Now that things which I can’t describe have hit his business and it has taken a major downfall, things have changed drastically financially. The man who used to drop $4000 on bottle service in Dubai bitches at me if I spend $4 on Starbucks to the point that if I do treat myself, I have to hide it. Cars have been sold, staff has been let go shopping and traveling stopped. The party ended. If I had to rate my happiness now after the money is gone on a scale of 1–10, I would say it’s a 2 or 3- Exactly the same as before. You see as cliche as it is , money doesn’t buy happiness. I’m no less happy than I was before. Do I miss it? Everyday. It atleast gave me something to look forward to but it didn’t bring me happiness. Crying in a Maserati over a miserable marriage is not any less miserable than crying in regular car. If you want happiness, invest in good people in your life. Money comes and money goes.
US vs. THEM
“I’ll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. “I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs.” “I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking.” “Hey, wait a minute, there’s one guy holding out both puppets!”” – Bill Hicks
Anyone who frequents Twitter, Facebook, political blogs, economic blogs, or fake news mainstream media channels knows our world is driven by the “Us versus Them” narrative. It’s almost as if “they” are forcing us to choose sides and believe the other side is evil. Bill Hicks died in 1994, but his above quote is truer today then it was then. As the American Empire continues its long-term decline, the proles are manipulated through Bernaysian propaganda techniques, honed over the course of decades by the ruling oligarchs, to root for their assigned puppets.
Most people can’t discern they are being manipulated and duped by the Deep State controllers. The most terrifying outcome for these Deep State controllers would be for the masses to realize it is us versus them. But they don’t believe there is a chance in hell of this happening. Their arrogance is palatable.
Their hubris has reached astronomical levels as they blew up the world economy in 2008 and successfully managed to have the innocent victims bail them out to the tune of $700 billion, pillaged the wealth of the nation through their capture of the Federal Reserve (QE, ZIRP), rigged the financial markets in their favor through collusion, used the hundreds of billions in corporate tax cuts to buy back their stock and further pump the stock market, all while their corporate media mouthpieces mislead and misinform the proles.
There are differences between the parties, but they are mainly centered around social issues and disputes with little or no consequence to the long-term path of the country. The real ruling oligarchs essentially allow controlled opposition within each party to make it appear you have a legitimate choice at the ballot box. Nothing could be further from the truth.
There has been an unwritten agreement between the parties for decades where the Democrats pretend to be against war and the Republicans pretend to be against welfare. Meanwhile, spending on war and welfare relentlessly grows into the trillions, with no effort whatsoever from either party to even slow the rate of growth, let alone cut spending. The proliferation of the military industrial complex like a poisonous weed has been inexorable, as the corporate arms dealers place their facilities of death in the congressional districts of Democrats and Republicans. In addition, these corporate manufacturers of murder dole out “legal” payoffs to corrupt politicians of both parties in the form of political contributions. The Deep State knows bribes and well-paying jobs ensure no spineless congressman will ever vote against a defense spending increase.
Of course, the warfare/welfare state couldn’t grow to its immense size without financing from the Wall Street cabal and their feckless academic puppets at the Federal Reserve. The Too Big to Trust Wall Street banks, whose willful control fraud nearly wrecked the global economy in 2008, were rewarded by their Deep State patrons by getting bigger and more powerful as people on Main Street and senior citizen savers were thrown under the bus.
When these criminal bankers have their reckless bets blow up in their faces they are bailed out by the American taxpayers, but when the Fed rigs the system so they are guaranteed billions in risk free profits, they reward themselves with massive bonuses and lobby for a huge tax cut used to buy back their stock. With bank branches in every congressional district in every state, and bankers spreading protection money to greedy politicians across the land, no legislation damaging to the banking cartel is ever passed.
I’ve never been big on joining a group. I tend to believe Groucho Marx and his cynical line, “I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member”. The “Us vs. Them” narrative doesn’t connect with my view of the world. As a realistic libertarian I know libertarian ideals will never proliferate in a society of government dependency, willful ignorance of the masses, thousands of laws, and a weak-kneed populace afraid of freedom and liberty. The only true libertarian politician, Ron Paul, was only able to connect with about 5% of the voting public. There is no chance a candidate with a libertarian platform will ever win a national election. This country cannot be fixed through the ballot box. Bill Hicks somewhat foreshadowed the last election by referencing another famous cynic.
“I ascribe to Mark Twain’s theory that the last person who should be President is the one who wants it the most. The one who should be picked is the one who should be dragged kicking and screaming into the White House.”― Bill Hicks
Hillary Clinton wanted to be president so badly, she colluded with Barack Obama, Jim Comey, John Brennan, James Clapper, Loretta Lynch and numerous other Deep State sycophants to ensure her victory, by attempting to entrap Donald Trump in a concocted Russian collusion plot and subsequent post-election coup to cover for their traitorous plot. I wouldn’t say Donald Trump was dragged kicking and screaming into the White House, but when he ascended on the escalator at Trump Tower in June of 2015, I’m not convinced he believed he could win the presidency.
As the greatest self-promoter of our time, I think he believed a presidential run would be good for his brand, more revenue for his properties and more interest in his reality TV ventures. He was despised by the establishment within the Republican and Democrat parties. The vested interests controlling the media and levers of power in society scorned and ridiculed this brash uncouth outsider. In an upset for the ages, Trump tapped into a vein of rage and disgruntlement in flyover country and pockets within swing states, to win the presidency over Crooked Hillary and her Deep State backers.
I voted for Trump because he wasn’t Hillary. I hadn’t voted for a Republican since 2000, casting protest votes for Libertarian and Constitutional Party candidates along the way. I despise the establishment, so their hatred of Trump made me vote for him. His campaign stances against foreign wars and Federal Reserve reckless bubble blowing appealed to me. I don’t worship at the altar of the cult of personality. I judge men by their actions and not their words.
Trump’s first two years have been endlessly entertaining as he waged war against fake news CNN, establishment Republicans, the Deep State coup attempt, and Obama loving globalists. The Twitter in Chief has bypassed the fake news media and tweets relentlessly to his followers. He provokes outrage in his enemies and enthralls his worshipers. With millions in each camp it is difficult to find an unbiased assessment of narrative versus real accomplishments.
I’m happy he has been able to stop the relentless leftward progression of our Federal judiciary. Cutting regulations and rolling back environmental mandates has been a positive. Exiting the Paris Climate Agreement and TPP, forcing NATO members to pay their fair share, and renegotiating NAFTA were all needed. Ending the war on coal and approving pipelines will keep energy costs lower. His attempts to vet Muslims entering the country have been the right thing to do. Building a wall on our southern border is the right thing to do, but he should have gotten it done when he controlled both houses.
The use of tariffs to force China to renegotiate one sided trade deals as a negotiating tactic is a high-risk, high reward gamble. If his game of chicken is successful and he gets better terms from the Chicoms, while reversing the tariffs, it would be a huge win. If the Chinese refuse to yield for fear of losing face, and the tariff war accelerates, a global recession is a certainty. Who has the upper hand? Xi is essentially a dictator for life and doesn’t have to worry about elections or popularity polls. Dissent is crushed. A global recession and stock market crash would make Trump’s re-election in 2020 problematic.
I’m a big supporter of lower taxes. The Trump tax cuts were sold as beneficial to the middle class. That is a false narrative. The vast majority of the tax cut benefits went to mega-corporations and rich people. Middle class home owning families with children received little or no tax relief, as exemptions were eliminated and tax deductions capped. In many cases, taxes rose for working class Americans.
With corporate profits at all time highs, massive tax cuts put billions more into their coffers. They didn’t repatriate their overseas profits to a great extent. They didn’t go on a massive hiring spree. They didn’t invest in new facilities. They did buy back their own stock to help drive the stock market to stratospheric heights. So corporate executives gave themselves billions in bonuses, which were taxed at a much lower rate. This is considered winning in present day America.
The “Us vs. Them” issue rears its ugly head whenever Trump is held accountable for promises unkept, blatant failures, and his own version of fake news. Holding Trump to the same standards as Obama is considered traitorous by those who only root for their home team. Their standard response is that you are a Hillary sycophant or a turncoat to the home team. If you agree with a particular viewpoint or position of a liberal then you are a bad person and accused of being a lefty by Trump fanboys. Facts don’t matter to cheerleaders. Competing narratives rule the day. Truthfulness not required.
The refusal to distinguish between positive actions and negative actions when assessing the performance of what passes for our political leadership by the masses is why cynicism has become my standard response to everything I see, hear or read. The incessant level of lies permeating our society and its acceptance as the norm has led to moral decay and rampant criminality from the White House, to the halls of Congress, to corporate boardrooms, to corporate newsrooms, to government run classrooms, to the Vatican, and to households across the land. It’s interesting that one of our founding fathers reflected upon this detestable human trait over two hundred years ago.
“It is impossible to calculate the moral mischief, if I may so express it, that mental lying has produced in society. When a man has so far corrupted and prostituted the chastity of his mind as to subscribe his professional belief to things he does not believe, he has prepared himself for the commission of every other crime.”– Thomas Paine
Thomas Paine’s description of how moral mischief can ruin a society was written when less than 3 million people inhabited America. Consider his accurate assessment of humanity when over 300 million occupy these lands. The staggering number of corrupt prostituted sociopaths occupying positions of power within the government, corporations, media, military, churches, and academia has created a morally bankrupt empire of debt.
These sociopaths are not liberal or conservative. They are not Democrats or Republicans. They are not beholden to a country or community. They care not for their fellow man. They don’t care about future generations. They care about their own power, wealth and control over others. They have no conscience. They have no empathy. Right and wrong are meaningless in their unquenchable thirst for more. They will lie, steal and kill to achieve their goal of controlling everything and everyone in this world. This precisely describes virtually every politician in Washington DC, Wall Street banker, mega-corporation CEO, government agency head, MSM talking head, church leader, billionaire activist, and blood sucking advisor to the president.
The question pondered every day on blogs, social media, news channels, and in households around the country is whether Trump is one of Us or one of Them. The answer to that question will strongly impact the direction and intensity of the climactic years of this Fourth Turning. What I’ve noticed is the shunning of those who don’t take an all or nothing position regarding Trump. If you disagree with a decision, policy, or hiring decision by the man, you are accused by the pro-Trump team of being one of them (aka liberals, lefties, Hillary lovers).
If you don’t agree with everything Trump does or says, you are dead to the Trumpeteers. I don’t want to be Us or Them. I just want to be me. I will judge everyone by their actions and their results. I can agree with Trump on many issues, while also agreeing with Tulsi Gabbard, Rand Paul, Glenn Greenwald or Matt Taibbi on other issues. I don’t prescribe to the cult of personality school of thought. I didn’t believe the false narratives during the Bush or Obama years, and I won’t worship at the altar of the Trump narrative now.
Oda Mae Brown $4 million Dollars!
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
It’s horrific but life changing in a positive way as well. I grew up on small town Ohio then moved to New York City and married a multimillionaire that worked in the finance industry. He showered me with gifts, a “scavenger hunt” with high end jewelry and designer bags in his apartment at One UN Plaza (where Derek Jeter and Jocelyn Wildenstein lived among other famous people). On our honeymoon, we traveled around the world first landing on the Burj Al Arab via helicopter, then off to The Maldives and Tahiti in one of those hits over the water. I was madly in love.
I had an American Express Black Card (Centurian) that had no limit. I could walk into a store and buy pretty much whatever I wanted. The stores I used to walk into when I was broke and dream of even buying a simple dress we’re now falling all over me.
Not worrying about how the rent was going to be paid, or bills is bizarre. This was something I worried about for most of my life and now money was like nothing. It’s like a huge weight off of you.
We lived in penthouses in Soho,a home in the Hamptons, an apartment overlooking Central Park known as The Gossip Girl building. a multimillion dollar home in prestigious Locust Valley,
I always drove a BMW 750 and once a custom 760.
I shopped at Chanel, Fendi,and other high end stores.
So what happened? I was completely oblivious about finances mostly. I had access to the accounts but I wasn’t concerned about checking up on them and the money kept rolling in. Turns out we were spending as much as my husband made and after a few gaps in his employment we were now constantly stressed about how we would recover. We downsized, selling the Hamptons home,the Fifth Avenue apartment and stopped traveling. It wasn’t enough and toward the end of the marriage we were down to almost nothing. We are now divorcing, but not because of the money problem.
The differences?
Rich people truly do get treated differently. They get better service, perks, and many other things. Everyone treats you with respect, your calls get returned immediately, everyone wants to be your friend, no one questions any claim you make since you’re rich and could not possibly be lying about anything. I was taken aback by the instant credibility.
Once we separated and divorce proceedings began my husband stopped paying me any kind of support leaving me and our special needs daughter destitute. I often found myself without money for food
We still live in a fancy condo (me and my daughter) and I still have the BMW. This makes people assume of course that I have millions of dollars. I’m constantly making excuses for why I can’t pay bills.
Wealthy friends distance themselves. You stop being invited to parties and events.on the plus side people come out of the woodwork to offer support.
I had the humiliating task of making trips to the pawn shop to get loans against jewelry. Thank god I had it though. I pulled up in front of a pawn shop on a regular basis in my $150,000 car. I recently sold my Cartier engagement ring at auction. For 12 years this was my most valued possession,something I promised my daughter since she was a toddler, and now it’s gone.
I stress about money every day. My identity has been completely stripped from me. My 11 year old daughter has known nothing but wealth her entire life so this is very anxiety provoking for her.
What’s positive?
I don’t care about material things so much. It’s just stuff and much of it a waste of money. I look at money very differently.
My friends that left were never really my friends at all so I’ve lost nothing.
I’ve had a lot of personal growth. I was always empathetic but now even more and I’m extremely non judgemental. People make decisions that many people don’t understand, but I can relate to almost anything.
I’m much more aware of the struggles of homeless people and minorities.
I’ve taken inventory of the people in my life and “cut the fat”. I don’t need fake friends and I’m completely disinterested in ““the scene”.
The moral of the story: Wealth has nothing to do with you. People who have money and think they’re treated well and have tons of wealthy friends because they’re so wonderful are kidding themselves. Not that you are not a bad person, you could be the kindest, most generous person on the planet, but people are treating you that way because of the money. Maybe they think you can do something for them someday. Who knows. You would be absolutely stunned at the people who hit the road once you don’t have it anymore. Have more friends that don’t care. Be aware of people’s motives. Focous more on being the best person you can be rather than the newest designer bag. Money comes and goes.
For anyone that feels the need to comment, selling the house and car are complicated in a divorce. Yes, I have an excellent attorney. This is a process.
What we think of culture is a system and a system is a collection of rules for how interdependent group of items interact with one another. This results in the whole possessing a set of unique properties. An accounting system is a set of formal rules based on the accepted standards of accounting. The habits of the accounting department, the culture of the department, is an unwritten set of rules for governing the behavior of the people in the department.
Most of life is governed by the unwritten rules. You can see this in something as simple as driving a car. In the United States, the written rules of the road are the same from state to state, but the unwritten rules are quite different. In Texas, drivers will stand on the brakes to let someone merge into traffic, while in Massachusetts people regularly drive on the shoulder to prevent it. The driving culture in New England is different from the driving culture of other parts of America.
Cultural shifts, changes in those unwritten rules, happen when key players within the culture decide to violate those rules. Maybe it is self-interest that drives the change, or maybe it is simply the declining utility of the old rules, but important people begin to violate those unwritten rules. Because humans are social animals, the rest follow the lead of the important people and the culture changes. The fashion industry has counted on this reality since its inception.
A classic example of a cultural shift was Watergate. The sorts of shenanigans done by the Nixon people during the 1972 election were considered normal and then all of a sudden they were declared beyond the pale. Prior to that time, the FBI was prohibited from getting directly involved in politics. Then all of a sudden, they were plotting with the Washington Post to overthrow the president. Those unwritten rules of political conduct suddenly changed and Nixon was removed.
Another example from politics comes from the 1990’s. Current affairs programming followed a set of unwritten rules. It was supposed to be a calm exchange of views, hosted by a moderator who pretended to be objective. The Clintons showed up in Washington and this changed. All of a sudden Clinton people were flinging their pooh at the moderator and anyone else on stage. It did not take long before this became the new normal and now all shows are pooh flinging contests.
This week, Tucker Carlson is doing shows on the hidden surveillance tapes from the Capitol on January 6th. These tapes had been hidden from public view by the Democrats until the Republicans took control of the House. Kevin McCarthy, the new Speaker, let the production team of the Tucker Carlson Show review the 40,000 hours of footage and this week they are reporting on it. They also have permission to show clips of that hidden footage in their reporting.
So far, nothing earth shattering has been revealed. The guy who showed up wearing animal skins, the QAnon Shaman, is seen being given a guided tour by the police, who seem to be having a blast leading the guy around the building. The QAnon Shaman is now in prison, doing four years for allegedly leading a violent insurrection. He was not allowed to have access to this footage in his defense, because in America the accused are no longer entitled to defend themselves in court.
This is where you see one of those cultural shifts. Most people reading this remember when such a thing would be a massive scandal. The judge and the prosecutors would have been reviled as fascists for denying this man a right to a defense. Of course, the media would have been demanding the footage from the beginning. Instead, they are up in arms over Tucker having access to the material. They fear he may create a “dangerous narrative” using these tapes.
The media was always biased. We used to be more mature about this and accept that politics is about friends and enemies. In the colonial times, everyone knew the bias of the newspapers and thought nothing of it. Then all of a sudden there was a culture shift and we were supposed to pretend the media was neutral. They were the fourth estate, speaking truth to power. We have just experienced another culture shift. The media is totally corrupt, using power to obscure the truth.
Another example of the culture shift is in the tapes. Tucker showed a scene from the J6 show trial in Congress. One of the politicians showed a clip of Senator Josh Hawley running from the building like a little girl. It turns out that the video was heavily edited by the Democrats. Hawley was with a group of other pols being herded out by the police and he was the last guy to leave. In other words, the Congress doctored a video and presented it under oath to the public as fact.
Everyone has always accepted that politicians lie. The reason they lie is to get elected, avoid scandal, or avoid responsibility. In other words, self-interest. This is the nature of all human activity and everyone accepted it. Doctoring video and presenting it as fact in order to promote a crazy narrative is something different. In a prior age, the people involved would be facing criminal charges. After all, they charged Roger Clemens for lying to Congress not so long ago.
More importantly, they doctored video to make a sitting Senator look like a sissy and then used the hearing to broadcast it to the world. It appears they worked with the media to promote this lie. Ten years ago, this was so beyond the pale that no one would have considered it. Now all of a sudden, the culture controlling the House and Senate has changed and this is now the new normal. How long before they move onto assassinating one another?
None of this is startling for people on this side of the divide, but it underscores an important point about the current crisis. The corruption at the top is so deep and so pervasive that the time for reform has now passed. How can the system reform itself when the people running it are so thoroughly corrupt? How could a genuine reformer work with people who are so corrupt? How can you fix the rules when the culture has evolved to reject the very idea of rules?
In the fullness of time, the ape historians will look at the 1980’s as a time for choosing, when the political class struggled to redefine itself. They could have gone down the road of reform and prepared for the word after the Cold War. Instead they signed on with the Clintons and the road to perdition. That has led to the flowering of a culture of corruption at the top of the political order. That is why J6 terrified them. They have known this long before that protest.
Apparently someone has been uploading edited versions of their videos and even misused them to setup scammy sales…and then in the comments someone (most likely a Langley Boy himself) is trying to slander the Chinese by saying this was done on Chinese social media…
Given the CIA jerks seem to infiltrate Chinese social media to send out their BS, my guess is that such uploads are done by them to slander both the Duran team and the Chinese people!
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
When I was a baby, my parents had a big house with 2 maids, a cook, a nurse for the children, 2 gardeners, a gateman, and a driver. There were parties almost every night. I woke to the strains of Strauss waltzes as the maids polished the ballroom floors with mops on their feet. The house was so big that my mother’s parents and 2 couples who worked for my father lived with us.
Then my father moved away to Japan and my mother made do with a much smaller house for us four children and only the nurse, who was an excellent cook and saintly about working and teaching us how to be polite and kind. I was still only 2, so everything seemed fine to me.
From then on, our fortunes fluctuated depending on my father’s finances, from only enough money to buy one pound of beef for the 7 of us (my mother had another baby at 40 when I was 10), which meant I did the childcare, housework and the cooking until I was 18 and escaped to Brown on a full scholarship. My father ended up developing 1 square mile of Shanghai and 2 square miles of Beijing at the end of his life, but that money was stolen by his employee when he died.
My life since has been sometimes rich, sometimes so poor that I was living on $10 a week at the end of the month. Honestly, those fluctuations never affected my emotions. Money comes and goes, it does not mean anything as far as your self respect is concerned. Enjoy the good weather, activities that are available to you, friends, family. I now like to walk, read good books, watch Netflix, play bridge, get together with friends and especially with my brothers who were so good to their baby sister when I was young. I feel very fortunate.
China warns, guardrails are coming off
Confessions Of Dudes Who Used Unproven Techniques To Enlarge Their Manhood
1. So I’ve been using a penis pump for about 3 years now, and also using extenders (that keep your penis stretched for long periods of time), as well as manual exercises here and there.
It has worked for me…but very slowly and takes a lot of time. I have gained about an inch in girth, and a bit more than half an inch in length during these years. that’s unpumped and under normal conditions.
It takes a lot of time and effort, and honestly, if you are doing this for women or whatever, it won’t be worth it. It’s better to invest your time in that actual woman, hanging out, having sex, ect. But I like pumping, and women tend to dislike it, but some like it now and then.
Pumping does give your temporary gains, and those temporary gains can get more and more significant the more you pump. Those temporary gains are a blast to me. I know it’ll “deflate” back to normal in some hours, but it’s a blast while it’s large. it gets addictive, too. You try to chase that huge pump you had a few days ago, but your body just isn’t there sometimes. It’s like working out. Somedays you can run 10 miles and feel great, or your breaking personal lifting records. Somedays you can barely put a dent in your usual routine.
In my opinion, I think stretching is the most effective way to enlarge the penis. The issue is, manual stretches can give you some gains when you first start (some of those early games is just stretching the ligaments attached to your penis, bring it “out” more). but after that, it takes a lot more time to get more and more gains. So extenders are useful, you wear them under your clothes and such, but are uncomfortable, annoying, difficult to fit, and expensive.
2. When I was younger around 18-19 I was really insecure about my penis size, mostly because I watched A LOT of porn and thought that every girl could only get off with a mandingo sized dick. This obviously led to a lot of insecurity about my penis size which was average at around 5.5″. So one day I remember seeing one of those porn site ads “grow your penis up to 8″ in a month!” and figured what the hell a month is no time at all and I’ll have a monster dong in 4 weeks! So I went to the site and bought one, $120 if I remember correctly which was a lot of money for me at the time. I remember ordering and then canceling the order about twice out of fear, then I guess I finally said screw it, ordered it and walked away.
The next day I got the shipping update and I nervously began pacing around my parents house plotting how to get the big brown box from the mail box to my room unnoticed so no one would ask “whats in the box” and leave me red faced and stammering while coming up with something to say. Few days go by and the mail comes, I bolt out the door to the mailbox, grabbed the box, dropped about 3 envelopes on the ground and bolt back inside. The mail on the ground was a casualty of war and I left it behind.
Anyways so I had it in my hands, it was a bathmate or something like that, a water penis pump. I went to the shower and began pumping the shit out of my dick. Hurt like a son of a bitch, felt like I put my dick in a shopvac and my insides were being pulled out through my urethra. But I could tell my dick was getting bigger already so I suffered through the pain. 15 minutes later I pop the thing off and my god was my dick engorged! It was the dick of my dreams, little did I know the results only lasted a couple hours but in that time I had to of jerked it about 5 times, and stood in the mirror staring at it for another 30 minutes before it shrunk back down to a stub. So I pumped for a month and actually saw some result, was thicker mostly. I kept at it for maybe another 3-4 months consistently and kept an eye on my “gains” and to my surprise my dick was actually growing. But one day I got a little too cocky and over pumped and my dick started hurting along the right side and I was properly freaked out. I quit right then and there and threw the damn thing away after breaking it into tiny pieces so that it couldn’t be recognized. All in all, my dick did grow, it’s about 6.5″ now and slightly more girthy.
Would I do it again? Hell no, its not worth it. After my penis injury scare I realized that its more embarrassing having to go to the hospital and tell them that I broke my dick in a penis pump than it is to have a average sized dick. After I got laid for the first time at 20 (late bloomer) I realized dick size didn’t even matter to most women and if it did that they aren’t the type of person I would want a relationship with anyways. I now have more self confidence than I did but I don’t contribute any of that to my magnum dong.
3. Just this May, I was with a new girlfriend from university. We’d been together only three weeks but we’d had sex quite a number of times. While she was giving me oral sex, she told me that my penis was a lot smaller than the other guys she’s been with. Let me be clear that she was literally holding it while she said this.
Now I didn’t know how to take this. Stupid, insecure me being a hopeless romantic wanted to improve myself for my girlfriend. I’m fairly normal in terms of size, 5.75 long and 5 around, but I was seriously hurt by this comment.
I went online and found a website claiming to increase your size. These guys preached a technique called jelqing, and the idea is to grip your shaft from the base at around 50% erection and milk it. So I did this ‘jelqing’ for two weeks, following some regimen they had for beginners.
At the end of the second week, I woke up to find that I could no longer get hard. I assumed maybe I overworked it, whatever. This lasted for five days and I was panicking. The day I went to a clinic to find out what was wrong, I was finally getting erections again at about 30%. They referred me to a urologist and I explained to him what happened. He said to take a rest for 6 weeks, hopefully everything will be okay.
6 weeks passes and I still can’t achieve a full erection. My maximum was 70% and I was having weird symptoms with my member. I had developed a torsion of maybe 10 degrees, as in the head was rotated. Nothing too grotesque as I’ve seen other guys born with this naturally, but it just wasn’t straight anymore. The other symptom led to seaches online pointing to something called ‘hard flaccid,’ something not medically recognized as a real symptom. My penis would not go soft basically. It felt rubbery and stiff all the time, and it only relaxed to what I was used to if I was urinating or laying down on my back. It’s resistant to being moved and prevents me from getting an erection while standing up.
I saw two more urologists and two clinic doctors and told them what was going on. I made sure to be clear about the exact motions I made when I was trying this jelqing nonsense. One told me to have a cystoscopy done and the other said to take another 2 months rest. Cystoscopy came out clear. He still had no idea what was going on and said take a few months’ rest like the other doctor said.
Now, I’ve got another urologist appointment with the cystoscopy urologist in December after rest. He’s probably going to schedule me for a pelvic MRI but we have no idea what’s going on. There’s apparently no scar tissue, but my penis is stiff unless I’m resting on my back or after urinating.
Obviously my gf broke up the week after I had my issue. I don’t blame her for anything, it was my own insecurities that led me to my decision. I’m a young guy who didn’t know how to deal with the situation and I ended up doing something stupid. I’ve been majorly abstinent over the course of these four months or so. I didn’t touch anything down there until about two weeks ago. It’s been a challenge but I’m putting my health first.
Please be happy with what you have. Don’t let other people put you down and recognize that a good partner would accept you for who you are. Be secure in what you’ve been given. A small, working dick will always be better than a broken 7-inches.
4. Not enlargement but once tried a weird knock-off viagra bought online. Gave me the dongest of dongs for a good few hours but also made my vision go BLUE. Everything BLUE. Slept it off and woke up to normal vision.
Looked in the mirror — left pupil about twice the size of the right. That was 6 years ago. Left pupil still a constant 20% or so larger than the right to this day, so I guess I enlarged something…
5. I tried stamina-rx. I bought it from the gas station and was super anxious so I thought I’d give it a test run before the big show. Well about 30 minutes later I started sweating my ass off, my face was flushed, my heart starting beating out of my chest, and I got the worst stomach ache ever. I was only 18 and couldn’t tell my mom I was dying because of dick pills, so I laid on the floor and accepted that this was how I was going to die.
Oh and I never got any benefit either. All the side effects, on the brink of death with a soft dick. I did jelq for 2-3 years and that did help a lot but I took it too far and injured myself. I cut that shit out and just chilled on jacking willy so much.
6. Yeah they work, but it is very possible to overdo it and permanently damage yourself.
With a pump you can gain about an inch in girth and length before it becomes unnatural – thing is if you have a foreskin that will balloon when you thrust and you’ll end up stuck. Not the greatest thing in the world… especially if you unkindly wind up accidentally hitting cervix even without using any “enhancement.”
Now, you may think that knotting your GF or wife sounds fun, and it is. Thing is, it is her body and it is seriously not cool to be stuck in someone who is having instant regret.
That isn’t permanent, some people say it can be but I’m pretty sure they’re exaggerating. On the plus side, they make you super sensitive, and can be used on women as well… just don’t overdo it.
Tension machines take much much longer and have permanent results. Thing is, they can result in ED. Those are mostly recommended for medical applications – and they are effective. They suck for foreplay.
7. I used a pump about 3 times a week over the period of 4 or 5 months. I gained like a quarter inch in length. Also it stays a bit bigger when flaccid now which is kind of nice. The purpose was actually more to gain girth which didn’t happen at all.
The catch was that I got some minor stretch marks on my shaft. Not from the permanent growth, but from the swelling while pumping. I think I could have avoided them if I hadn’t pumped as hard. Some people also do things like wear condoms while pumping to keep the swelling down.
Anyway, the marks faded over time and they aren’t noticeable, so I don’t have too deep of regrets. But I don’t think I’d recommend it. You’re not going to go from small to average, or from average to big or anything. There’s more damage to be done than good.
Definitely DON’T TRY THIS!! I lost my ability to get and keep a normal erection at the age of 18 (I’m 25 now), lost almost all sensitivity in my penis. Fucked up my sexual life. I was struggling with suicidal thoughts for years. Doing therapy has helped but the stigma is still there.
I didn’t treat the problem at the time because of shame, lack of money and health insurance. How do you explain your parents and friends that you have ED for such a stupid accident??
The funny thing is that I initially came across those exercises (jelqing and stretching, the latter caused the worst damage) while searching how to straighten the curvature, not for an enlargement method. Even though I’m slightly below average, it wasn’t a big deal (no pun intended).
I needed to get this off my chest. Please, don’t make the same mistake I did. It’s not worth taking the risk
8. First off, they don’t work as people think they would. There’s usually stuff in it that increases the flow of blood, so your penis looks more swelled up. They also usually contain zinc, which makes you cum more. Some of the herbs make you last longer.
All of those three things is good for your self-confidence. And so, in a weird way, they so work! However, I cannot recommend it to anyone.
It’s way better to take your multi-vitamins, drink lots of water, exercise regularly, wear loose underwear and generally be aware of penile health. Manscaping is also a very solid option. It’ll not only make it look bigger, its more appealing to almost every woman I’ve ever met.
But the most important thing is to be happy about your dick. I’ve got an average (5 inch) penis, but I was convinced I couldn’t satisfy any woman ever. And honestly, when I was under that impression, it killed my self confidence and I couldn’t act sexy because I didn’t feel sexy.
So, fuck all the nonsense. Your dick is your dick. Most probably, it’s fine. If it is too short, learn how to go down on your partner. Treat that pussy like a temple. Get some toys. This is the 21st century my man, there’s a ton of options s available!
Confidence is more than the size of your dick. Read books, have opinions. Instead of wasting your money of those shitty pills, upgrade your wardrobe. Be happy with yourself. Women find that damn sexy.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I grew up in Australia, the youngest of 4 children and second-hand EVERYTHING was normal. We had a roof over our heads & adequate food to eat but no luxuries or extras at all.
I had my first child at 18 and I promised him, he would have more than I did.
My boyfriend and I started with nothing but with hard work and sacrifice we saved for our first home. We both had pretty average jobs but we saved hard and eventually bought a second home. By chance in the early 2000’s both houses (in different states) doubled in value. We bought a third apartment but we managed our rental properties ourselves and when a tenant did not pay their rent, it made things hard for us personally to make mortgage repayments.
We sold the apartment at a small profit to relieve some financial pressure. We bought another house and with a lot of hard work we had almost paid it off in about 8 years.
We decided to sell our home as both our children had finished school and were becoming financially independent. So we rented while we thought about what we wanted to do.
A ‘friend’ at work had told me about his new venture. He had purchased NRAS (National Rental Affordability Scheme) titles where as an investor, we could build a dwelling, rent it out to lower income bracket and the government would pay an extra 20% direct to us tax free (that was the gist of it anyway). It sounded great!
After 2 years of waiting, the plans had changed but it still seemed like a good idea so we invested our money. Basically, we get a loan to build. They do all the groundwork. At the end of build, we split things 50/50.
We built 2 duplex projects, a 5 unit and 6 unit dwellings over the period of 7 years. We didn’t take any profit, just rolled it over to next build. We invested over $200,000 of our own money and should have had profit exceeding $400,000.
It wasn’t in the millions but it was more money than I had ever had & I finally felt like I was successful and rich!
Then in April 2017 it all came crashing down. Along with 40 other investors we lost everything when the company went into liquidation. Administrators have taken everything in their fees, and unbeknownst to me, when my last property sold (in June 2016) the company didn’t pay $100,000 GST owed to Australian Taxation Office. So now they are chasing me for it and it goes up by thousands every month.
I feel like a failure. I feel stuck. I am ashamed that I have done this to my family.
But, my husband of 20 years has been my rock. Our relationship since this happened is the strongest it has ever been.
My children understand that things are hard at the moment and don’t have any financial expectations.
My parents have been so supportive and have never once said ‘ I told you so’. In fact, they told me a story about their own financial mistakes and how they overcome them.
I have love, I have my health, I have my family.
I’m going to be Ok.
TSMC restarts China factory
https://youtu.be/hq5XcA6vctM
AI ‘Bot hits Quora
I find the answers interesting. Detailed. But so very bland. No passion…
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I can tell the experience of a friend. who married a woman who was multi-millionaire since birth. Saying that they were rich is an understatement. They only flew first or business class, he got a new Porsche or Mercedes every single year and they always lived in the best areas in Manhattan,
I remember when he and his wife moved to New York they hired an interior designer from Milan to do the decoration. They spent around a million dollars only with the renovation and furniture for the apartment.
They had it all, and not even in my dreams I would imagine that one day they would lose it all.
However, like many other stories, they didn’t lose it overnight, but little by little.
I never imagined they would lose all their money because apart of being filthy rich, they were really lucky.
My friend’s wife grew up being a millionaire. Annual trips to Aspen with her family, then summer in Europe and everything we imagine rich people do. I was lucky to enjoy some of these perks when I was invited to one of their vacation homes.
They had a lot of money but they didn’t work. After all, they never needed to do it. She received a monthly allowance from her family that I believe was around 700K to 1M per year so they would probably not bother to work 9 to 6 to make $100K more.
They lived this life for around 10 years. Then, they had some disagreement with their family and they stopped receiving the allowance. They lived by their savings for around 3 years. During those years they lived a very good life, but not so lavish as before. After 3 years, when they were about to start selling everything so they could have some money, her uncle died. He didn’t have any kids so she received a good sum of money that was sufficient for around 3 more years.
When their bank accounts were about to run dry again her mother passed away and she inherited, along with her brothers, around 4M each.
For most people, it would be sufficient for a lifetime, but they made very bad investments along with some poor decisions and I don’t know how, but they ended up losing everything in around 3 more years.
After losing all their money they started living with the money of a trust her parents left to her, Something around 5K per month. But they are on their 50s, they never worked and have no professional skills and they have to pay rent (as they don’t have a home), pay all their bills and above all, health insurance with that amount.
I saw them around 6 months ago and they were miserable. My friend developed a neurological disease due to the stress he endured in the last years. His wife was making all decisions as he wasn’t able to do it anymore. Unfortunately, he is so sick that he couldn’t work even if he wanted to.
I was really sad it happened to them because they were really nice people, It’s easy to judge them for never bothered to have a job or be wiser with their money, however, she was born in a different universe for most of us. What we see as a lavish lifestyle she sees as a regular day since birth.
I asked them if they needed anything and obviously what they need is their old lifestyle back. They moved to a modest apartment in a different state.
She told me that the biggest issue is that they don’t know how to live like that. She can’t imagine what’s like to do their own grocery shopping, and worst than that, go to Walmart with a shopping list. She said that if she spent a little more on things she like she might not have money for the supermarket next week.
I would not dare to say that this experience was humbling to them because they were always nice people, the difference is that they were nice people with lots of money. The only positive thing I believe this experience brought to them is that they are no longer superficial. They used to see everything like poverty, sorrow, and problems from a different perspective, and I used to see them through a mask that looked like they were using all the time
Now, for the first time, I was able to see who they really are. What are their emotions, their fears, their desires, and their regrets… For the first time in their lives they desire things, they no longer pull their credit card and immediately satisfy their desires and in that sense, they look like real people for me.
Every time I visited them over the years I always invited them for lunch, breakfast or coffee and even though I’m not wealthy I always offered to pay, and 6 months ago, when I saw them for the last time, I invited them to have a coffee at Starbucks and that was the first time in more than 15 years that they said thank you after I offered to pay for our breakfast.
It felt different. They don’t need to thank me for anything because during their life, just by inviting me to stay with them, they offered me much more than anything I’ve ever offered to them, but for the first time in their lives, they are learning to value every small good thing that life gives to them.
Thank you all for the upvotes and feedbacks to this story. In fact, I had two stories about the theme but Quora doesn’t allow to publish two answers for the same question, so, for those who are interested I’ll post the second story here.
In 2007 I was hired by a medium size tech company. The company had around 150 employees and they were growing fast. When I was hired they told me they would be moving to better offices in two months and they really did it. The new office was really impressive. Huge, very modern to the point it made the cover of a magazine.
My boss and her husband were the owners of the company. They were simply amazing. She was sweet, very polite and it was a pleasure to work for them. They were also very rich. In fact, she was so down to earth that it took me two months to realize that she was one of the owners of the company. It happened one day that we had a meeting with a client and she told me if I was OK to be squeezed on the back seat of her car, as another person was coming with us. I Imagined that she had one of those very small cars, but she showed up on a brand new convertible Porsche .
Little by little, we became acquainted. They invited me to have dinner one night and I was impressed by how rich they really were, They lived on a mansion, the land was so big that they had a tennis court, swimming pool and a stable with 5 horses on their land. He also was a motor enthusiast and had 9 cars. They owned a farm and a beach house in another city, even though we lived in one of the most beautiful beach cities in the world.
They made money fast because I was hired in 2007 and the company was founded in 2002 and it looked like they had a good lifestyle for some years.
They were amazing people, very humble, very calm and you would never say they had so much money just by talking to them.
I left the company by the end of 2007 because I received an offer to work in another place. I talked to them before accepting the offer, I explained my reasons and they were really supportive and told me that if I changed my mind the doors would be open.
By the end of 2008, a former colleague contacted me asking for a reference as he was leaving the company. I asked why he was leaving the company and the told me that the company had gone into receivership. Basically, they were impacted by the GFC.
They were so rich that I imagined that although the company had bankrupted they probably had a lot of savings.
I never heard from them again until 2017.
I had a health issue and I needed to see a specialist. When I got to the doctor, I was talking to the receptionist when I saw a sign with her name over her desk. (Let’s say Jennifer Parker – I’ll omit her real name). So I said to her. Hey Jennifer, what a coincidence, I had a boss with exactly the same name.
Then she told me that she was not Jennifer, that Jennifer was the other receptionist, that she worked Monday and Tuesday and Jenniffer Wednesday to Friday. I saw the doctor and two weeks later I came back for my return and when I arrived who I see working as a receptionist there? My former boss.
When she saw me she recognized me and told me that the other receptionist told what happened and when she saw my name she connected the dots.
She told me what happened to the company, basically was a problem with the contracts they made and as they weren’t able to get a new loan from the bank they could no longer keep the company and pay their debts. With that, they lost everything, not only the company but literally everything.
Their kids moved from private to public schools, they had all their cars, properties and assets confiscated and ended moving to a small apartment near the city. Her husband was able to get a new job (at nearly 60 years of age) and she had to go back to work to complement their income.
It was a huge surprise for me because you always expect that these things will happen to bad people, but never to nice people like them. They were honest, decent, hardworking, family oriented, and everybody in the office liked them.
Coincidentally I bumped into them again 3 months later in the mall. What surprised me the most is that they were able to go from a very rich to a very modest lifestyle without changing who they were. We sit together to have lunch in the food court and they were living like that was the life they always had. They were exactly the same people I met 10 years before, they were happy, making jokes with their kids (that were teenagers by then) and even when she told me what happened she didn’t do it with sadness.
I don’t know how they managed everything so well. Going through an experience like that could be very damaging, but it looks like they had a way to cope with everything.
It taught me a lesson that money can’t be trusted, life can be full of unexpected events with many things out of our control.
Cheese Enchiladas with Chili Gravy
1ba3d58fbd0b00ecc209e3db69fbb08d
Ingredients
Chili Gravy
2 tablespoons shortening
2 tablespoons flour
2 tablespoons chili powder (Gebhardt if possible)
3 cups warm water
Salt to taste
Enchiladas
12 corn tortillas
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 large onions, chopped
4 cups grated cheese
Instructions
Lightly grease a 13 x 9-inch baking dish. Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
Chili Gravy: Melt shortening in skillet. Stir in flour, make a light roux. Add chili powder, water and salt. Cook until thick. The gravy will vary according to what brand of chili powder you use.
Enchiladas: Heat oil in skillet. Using kitchen tongs, dip each tortilla in hot oil until well softened (about 15 seconds). Hold tortilla up to drain. Using tongs dip tortillas in hot chili gravy. Place tortillas in pan, put a good pinch onions and cheese in the middle and roll the tortilla, placing the flop side down. Continue filling and rolling tortillas until pan is full. Pour more chili gravy on top of the enchiladas, sprinkle the top generously with more cheese and pop into a preheated oven to bake until cheese begins to bubble, about 10 minutes.
Serve immediately.
Can the U.S. mobilize 10 million troops to crush China?
The USA couldn’t mobilize a kegger let alone a military operation. Those days are over. Most of what is called “the United States States” is smoke and mirrors, magnified a million times by control of the social media via algorithm.
It’s difficult, you know, to discern which are accurate questions asked by sincere people, and question-’bots programmed to spew a narrative to the public in the form of questions.
Most of us ignore these questions. But every now and again, we feel compelled to stamp some truth on top of them to keep the audience in check.
Most people are unaware how formidable Asia is right now, and this ignorance is getting more profound with each passing minute. Soon, the lemmings will march in unison toward their death, and the West will be a snot-stained page in the history books.
What does it feel like to become poor after being wealthy?
I guess I can’t say I was “rich” (since my net worth was never really all that high) but I was a consistent $250k a year earner for about 3 years who once had over $100k in cash. Not bad for a single guy with no family obligations
I had worked for years in a fairly low-paying career (at least in the city I live in) that requires passion in order to be done well, and I had none. I settled for it, and anyone who knows me knows I am not a settler (probably why I have been single most of my life!) I could never get ahead. Was always living paycheck to paycheck. Knew I had to do something different if I was ever going to “make it” but had no idea what that was. I felt the job really gave me no transferable skills
In the fall of 2007, I stumbled upon something called “affiliate marketing” online. Basically, companies will pay you a commission (often 50–75%) if you can drive sales for them. Bounced around from method-to-method for a while, but finally stuck to something that I was confident would bring me some money. Maybe not life changing income, but for the time being, enough to maybe coverage my mortgage. (Which, come to think about it, WOULD BE life changing income for what I was making)
In one month, I wrote probably 300 articles and submitted them to what was at the time a very high-traffic article directory. Made $600. It was the most rewarding $600 I had ever made
Eventually, I had saved enough to feel comfortable buying traffic online, and that was a real game changer. Started making probably $12k per month, in addition to my job, which I was now REALLY starting to hate because I didn’t need it anymore. Or so I thought
Put in my resignation in February 2010. A week later, I got caught in Google Adwords’ war on affiliate marketers, and my account was banned. I wasn’t doing anything shady, but others had, and they basically just started blanket-banning many affiliates. And since they provided 95% of my traffic, I was up a creek with no paddle. Had to put my tail between my legs and ask for my job back. Fortunately, they never wanted me to leave in the first place
Took about 2.5 years, but I built it up again, using different methods. And this time, multiple traffic sources! I was ready to quit again. I wasn’t making great money, but it was a comfortable living, and I felt deep down this was what I had to do
Then, right as I had made the decision to officially quit, I hit a windfall. $45k in a month. And things changed
Now, just quitting and having freedom wasn’t enough. I wanted it all. Dream car, vacations, a much nicer place. And I got all those things. I eventually rented an apartment in one of the premier buildings in my city, bought a Porsche (albeit a used one at half of its original cost)
And needless to say, I quit my job
The $45k months lasted only a couple months, but I was still pulling in at least 3.5X what my job paid me. And while I don’t want to say I went crazy with the money (because I always knew I needed a cushion, being self-employed in a volatile business), I basically was living a dream life (at least for me). Friend calls me two weeks in advance to go Miami? Done. Fly to sporting events? No problem. Buying flashy sport coats that gave me lots of attention from females? Give me as many as I can get my hands on
I woke up pretty much every day with a smile on my face, thinking, “what more am I going to create today to pad my bank account? What new, exciting experiences will I undertake?” Sure, there were bumps in the road along the way, but I always seemed to find something even better, including one online campaign that was bringing me a consistent $30–60k a month. But there was a catch…
This income was EXTREMELY volatile. Online traffic sources were starting to be a real pain. I knew this particular gravy train wasn’t going to continue long-term. I knew I needed something more stable. And that’s where everything started to unravel
I had an opportunity to hire one of the real heavy hitters in my market to create my own product. The goal was to no longer be an affiliate and having to worry about a company stopping their affiliate program, or traffic sources not liking affiliates (namely Google). His price was steep ($6k a month) but I knew he knew his stuff, plus someone in my network had worked with him before and raved about him. He co-founded a company that did 8 figures a year, although to be honest, that wasn’t really even on my radar. I just wanted something where I didn’t have to sleep with one eye open
Had my family, even my ex-girlfriend pray that he would take me on. And he did
In July of 2015, the gravy train really started producing much less gravy. Still decent money, but not enough when you’re paying someone $6k a month, not to mention you know you’ll have to spend a lot of money on traffic to get a good return on investment. And mind you, our product was a couple months off schedule
Finally, a month later, it went online, and it was a money pit from the start. There were only a handful of days where I even made a small profit. I knew it would take time, but now, time wasn’t something I had a lot of. We made tweak after tweak, but nothing worked. I started having strong anxiety, and in March of 2016, I told my biz partner we needed to get this thing profitable soon, or else I was going to have to pull the plug. I didn’t want to give up on it (especially considering I had put just about everything I had into it). The only thing that was keeping me from totally going crazy was that the gravy train was still bringing me a solid income
Then April 6th happened
Had just returned from a much needed vacation to see my alma mater play in the college basketball Final Four (mind you, I was much more thrifty on this trip than the ones I had taken in years past). Got a call from the one remaining affiliate program that was bringing me income that it was over
And just about everything has been a downward spiral from there
Ended my lease on that beautiful apartment with bay views and floor-to-ceiling windows to move back to my 650 square foot condo with low ceilings and a horribly outdated kitchen. Sold the Porsche and didn’t even have a car for three months because I was too scared to put a down-payment. Had no idea what to do next. Tried to make my product work on my own (my former “partner” and I parted ways shortly after. Amicably, as I don’t blame him for what happened, although we don’t really talk anymore because my sub-conscious probably has some resentment toward him for this failing so miserably). For the most part, it just continued to bleed me dry, although I did find a way to squeeze about $3k a month in profit from it. My parents eventually took mercy on me and bought me a former rental car so I could drive for Uber and Lyft, an opportunity I am grateful for, but a dangerous job and somewhat degrading, considering my former life
I now suffer from nearly constant anxiety and depression. Depressed over what my life used to be like compared to what it is now, anxious about what the future holds. Savings are almost gone, piled up major credit card debt, I have no idea what job I could even do (trust me, the money I made online, just about anyone with half a brain could have done it) and whether anyone would even hire me with the way my emotional state is these days. But there is also anxiety about whether I can ever be happy again, especially if I don’t come close to making it back to where I was before. Will I ever get back my fun-loving, optimistic spirit? I just turned 40 in March, and would love to meet the woman of my dreams and start a family, but who of value would want to date a guy my age in my situation?
As I’m sure is the case with many others, going from high income to barely scraping by stripped me of most of my self-worth. I remember talking to a VERY successful friend of mine back in 2010 when I first started to make five figures a month. He said “man, you’re so much more confident now.” And I told him “I agree, but I don’t want just want to be that way because I’m a higher earner now.” This guy is a very positive person who has made millions in the personal development space, but even he said “I hate to say this, but that’s just the reality of being a male”
Most achievements we strive for are a letdown on some level, and yes, I would include being well-off in this. I wouldn’t say my life was amazing every single moment during those high-income days. But I will say, it came pretty close to being as good as I thought it would be. And to lose it makes you question whether you would have been better off never having it in the first place. I struggle with this a lot. I got to do so many things and make so many memories that I never would have been able to do had I not hit that income level. But at the same time, I am somewhat haunted by them. Every time I drive by that beautiful downtown apartment building making barely-above minimum wage driving Uber/Lyft (and answering the question “is this your full-time job” or “what do you do besides this” for the thousandth time) I get depressed. All the flaws in my current living space that I once ignored are now amplified. Sometimes I feel the only times I am happy at all are when I lose myself for a few minutes and go back and look at pictures of those times, and pretend for a bit that I’m still there
So that, in my experience, is what it’s like to go from being wealthy to being poor
China has been exploding with all sorts of new things, products and innovations. Most of which has yet to catch on in the West. There are many reasons for that, but the biggest one is regulation. People who possess new things; new products; new ideas, must get permission to use them. And in the West (especially inside America) this takes time.
For instance, in the 1990’s I was the Principal Engineer for a company that was leading the world in LED technology for automobiles. We were working on tail-lights, head-lights, and courtesy lights. We were pretty cutting edge for the time. And our products were great, and worked well.
The thing was that they could not be used in cars or trucks because the regulations that existed defined the characteristics of the lighting mechanism itself – an incandescent bulb, and not the end result; the ability to have a lighted area at a specific distance.
So in order to put our new, cheap and reliable system on the market we need to get around this “roadblock”. We had to petition to change the regulations to accept results-based measurement criteria as opposed to design-based measurement criteria. And when we started to do that, boy oh boy, did we “open up a can of worms”.
No one was happy.
It’s a long story and maybe I’ll get into it some other time. Anyways, LED technology did eventually enter the automobile market, and today it’s actually rare to see incandescent bulbs being used with the same kind of commonality that used to exist.
You must understand. Over the many years, the evil and corrupt, have corrupted business, technology and society and bent them to do THEIR bidding. And it was fine and well when no one noticed what was going on…
…and China has shown the way. Where big and small, everyone can live their lives and make, grow and innovate free of government interference’s. And while it is all possible that RAH! RAH! American exceptionalism will shine through…
…the fact is that it won’t.
Not until all those millions and millions of tiny little hands are out of your wallet. Sure, you can allocate 500 million dollars to a new hospital system. And you know what you will get? A bunch of reports “evaluating” the various studies on building the hospital system. You will not get a hospital.
All these little hands are put in place by decades of crime and corruption by the oligarchy. And they are not going away.
What am I talking about?
I’m talking about this…
Yeah. You can buy a complete box of 20 for under $1 at the local store.
Crime and corruption has ruining America. And because the government has done absolutely nothing about it, it will not matter what pity saying the leadership says, what speeches that they make, what money they allocate. Because nothing will actually get done.
Innovation is really more than just a trivial interest of mine. My non-MAJestic career spanned four decades of R&D, NPD and new emerging technologies all across the board.
Not only was I dealing with what ever the fuck I was dealing with in MAJestic, but also I held my “day job” which was involved in R&D, and NPD.
And today…
America is clueless. Absolutely clueless.
Stuff that America hasn’t a clue about.
Stuff that when America innovates that it uses Chinese interns, and Chinese immigrants on visas to design, make and develop. They work inside an American company. And it is the American company that gets the credit. Not the Chinese engineers and scientists.
Look at the winners of the World Mathematics Competition; it’s America!
Woo! Woo! America is number one! Yee-Hawwww!
But look closely…
Here we are going to talk about some of the “cool” things in China now.
I can have thousands of videos as the Chinese are “out of control” in innovation, engineering and design. Some of which is silly, some of which is awkward, and some of which is just… hum. But I picked some of the more interesting technologies in this post. I hope that you enjoy them.
This is a video dense article. Please allow time for the videos to load. For the most part, they are worth it.
5G AI Flooring
Lighted floors with movies and animation isn’t new in China. They have been around for at least a decade now and are semi-common in movie theaters, malls and KTV venues. But the latest designs are really very cool as they have motion sensors in the floor panels and 5G AI responses. The result is really interesting. As in this video…
I can see some great applications on dance floors and other venues of a similar nature.
Interesting applications for the tiles
Actually, these panels are really cool. They can sense a person on them, and near them as well as what you are doing. And as such they react appropriately. LOL!
Each panel has it’s own little micro-computer. And can work independently or as part of a cluster of times.
And, of course, what can go on the floor can also go on the wall. As this video clearly shows. Again, kind of nice. But the applications can be astounding. Think of advertising boards where you can touch the advertisement and interact it in language (any) or where it could link up with your cell phone.
I can see cluster of jellyfish drones are working together in a swarm…
…silently, quietly and stealthily. All performing non-invasive tasks where no one takes notice.
Debit Card Technology
One way foreigners will use #CBDC in China during the 2022 Olympics will be with a CBDC card and automatic exchange machine!
Banks are going all-in on CBDC as it represents their return from payment irrelevance and are showing their latest tech at the China Digital Summit.
Bank of China just revealed an automated exchange machine that looks like it will see use at the 2022 Olympics.
“Overseas nationals with valid passports can put foreign banknotes into the machine, which will issue a physical e-CNY card based on the exchange rate. The card looks similar to the card-based digital yuan hardware wallet that was seen back in January.”
“The prototype of the e-CNY card for foreigners also has a small screen that shows the available balance of the hardware wallet and can be used in shops that have an e-CNY payment terminal.”
The same machine will also likely take foreign ATM cards according to patent filings I saw months back.
I'm certain a bank sponsored e-CNY app will also be available for the Olympics as foreign cards are now accepted for tourists on #Alipay and #WeChat Pay.
Fun to see the new developments!
-The Block Crypto
In China, the debit cards show just how much money that you have in the account in real time…
And here’s another video showing how you can add or delete money to the account. Note that there are no fees to do this like in the USA. In fact, everything is fee-free and so easy and instantaneous.
Not that having a card is necessary. Most people no longer carry cards. They just carry their cell phone and that is it. But having a card is really handy for other purposes, like to give a gift to children, or to allocate a budget for the purchase of a particular item.
Next year most Westerners will experience this card during the Olympics.
Huawei Ring Innovation
”The U.S. embassy in Denmark threatening to cancel its subscription with a local newspaper if it used Chinese telecommunications equipment is an example of "coercive diplomacy," Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Wang Wenbin said on Friday.”
“The Danish newspaper Politiken revealed on April 25 that it received an email from the U.S. diplomatic mission in the country asking it to verify whether it uses electronic devices, including routers, modems, and electronic communications equipment, from five Chinese companies, namely Huawei, ZTE, Hytera, Hikvision and Dahua and their subsidiaries and affiliates.” CGTN on Twitter.
-LinkedIN
Speaking of cell phones. Here’s a ring that you can use to control your cell phone with. Apparently it is an option on all the new Huawei phones.
Speaking of Huawei. You know Huawei hasn’t stopped with cell phones either. They have developed all sorts of really cool things for the automobiles. Not American automobiles, of course. For the Chinese automobiles. Like this…
Granted many of the technologies are cool, but I don’t know how practical. Like this trunk opener. Maybe it’s all “Gee Wiz”, but do you really need it?
However, this next bit of technology is really cool. It’s self-tinting windows. Now available on Chinese cars. But, of course, it will takes years to be approved in America as you would have to run the SAE gauntlet as the various state agencies that regulate the innovation adaptation in automobiles. But in the rest of the world, it’s really cool.
Drones are “old news”. But what people don’t realize is that they are a Chinese technology with most of the commercial drones being made in China. And they are constantly innovating. The swarm drone technology is pretty much mature, and China has been using this for at least five years that I know of. What is really interesting is that the drones can create three dimensional images that your cellphone can scan in real time and link up with on the internet.
Here’s a Fraken-camera. It’s cool, and for a photography buff would probably be the “cat’s meow”, but gosh almighty it does seem like over kill, doesn’t it?
And with all the anti-China propaganda, this is what most American believe. Such as these quotes…
China doesn't innovate (central planning is incapable of innovation because creation/innovation requires market competitiveness and front-line payout/incentive).But central planning-based countries can cheat and steal. And that is what China does.
-6 posted on 7/28/2019, 10:44:53 AM by RoosterRedux
Another sheeple on Free Republic chimes in…
Innovative my ass. Have yet to see anything innovative from the Chinese that they didn’t steal from us. That’s why they won’t fold to Trumps trade war. They know they would be screwed without their thievery.
-14 posted on 7/28/2019, 11:19:28 AM by Bommer
This is what Americans and the Western allied block think about China, but it is actually not true at all.
China can and does innovate. China has been the leader in innovation for a decade already. In fact, many people gloss over all the “tell tales” of innovation such as China lock on all the 5G patents, and it’s command of the patents on Artificial Intelligence, robotics, and manufacturing.
Instead all you hear about is how dangerous and evil China is.
And you know that this statement is true. The American media would rather die than say anything good about China. But what do you expect? America is a Military Empire, and it demands absolute servitude.
This too is very true.
In fact, this was so very obvious when you watched the absolutely arrogant Biden Administration layout it’s terms to a stunned Chinese audience in Alaska in April 2021.
Perhaps some clarity is needed WHY the American military Empire is so pissed that the Chinese isn’t backing down, and instead standing up to the Arrogant American bullies.
China knows what is at stake. It’s a merit-driven leadership that has read history, and know what to expect from America. So they have readied themselves against the huge dragon the snarls, spits fire, and eats up others in it’s never-ending appetite for gold, oil and riches.
China has prepared.
And America does not like it.
Not one bit.
I love this video. I posted it on another post, as this is a military unit stationed in XinJiang. But it’s an absolutely awesome video. And worth a look. China does not play.
I mean it.
China will use every method at their disposal to stop, and destroy radical CIA-backed terrorists from doing damage, and then they will go after their sources of funding, their training and their “safe” and “distant” handlers. As China grows, so does it’s muscle. If Turkey is involved, or if the United States is involved, you will see China establish covert and secretive units to take out the instigation elements (read: key people) in their homes in far away safe suburbs. It’s a new world.
Perhaps that is why America is starting to “shake in it’s boots”.
Let's see how safe AR Senator Tom Cotton, Neocon feels in his rural home in the mountains of Arkansas, or John Bolton, or Mike Pompeo. They might no longer be holding office, but they are still "pulling the strings and levers of power". China will put a complete end to all of this nonsense.
And it's war. Right?
This is what all these neocon jackasses have been saying. Read all their writings. Go ahead read the White House report when Trump left office, read the "Long Telegraph". They want to kill and remove the Chinese national leadership and replace them with Vichy people who will be puppets for their American global objectives. Of course China knows what the fuck is going on.
And it's fair game, eh?
You want to attack China. Well, it will fight back. With real, real claws. They have no fucking idea what kind of a "hornet's nest" they are kicking off the tree.
Watch the video.
This very cool video can be obtained directly HERE.
This is just a small picture of the vast array of defensive military that China has amassed to prevent any idiotic American dreams of another Syria, Yemen, or Iraq invasion for “democracy“, and to “rescue the Uighur’s“.
This entire video was filmed inside of Xinjiang.
Keep in mind that not only is the military presence large, but they are well-trained, run by merit, and utilize well maintained, state of the art equipment.
The idea that American troops can go into Xinjiang and “rescue the imprisoned Muslims from the concentration camps” is never going to happen.
But that’s exactly why the American propaganda machine is in full gear right now. To make it seem that China is one thing, that it really isn’t.
And we can see this is the comments on American Neocon websites…
“The PLA’s great weaknesses:”
I think you can add:
- Their recruitment pool has been halved by a government imposed one child policy that was maintained years after being understood as destructive by a government that can never admit mistakes.
- Their economy relying on resources (especially oil) that must be imported by sea along sea lanes that cross territory closer to and controlled by their enemies.
- Their economy relying on export markets made up of their major potential enemies.
- Their work force demographics currently transitioning from having a vast majority of highly experienced workers (those in the 45 - 65 age group) to having that group being retired.
-39 posted on 5/1/2021, 5:15:53 PM by conejo99
Obviously the commenters have never been to China, know nothing of China and repeat the neocon narratives as if they are factual.
.
And, you know, that’s why they are called “sheeple”. They have strong emotions about something that they have never experienced first-hand. Only from what they read. And so they respond out of extreme ignorance like this…
The PLA’s great weaknesses:
- They have no institutional knowledge on how to maintain force cohesion under fire that is HITTING.
- They cannot prevent strikes by a modern military against their homeland.
- Many of their new weapons systems are cartoon images of the real thing. (their stealth does not work)
- Their logistical infrastructure for manufacturing these new weapons is hopelessly corrupt.
- They STILL cannot manufacture a decent jet engine in numbers.
- You can hear their submarines leaving Hainan Island from Pearl Harbor.
How crushing it will be to them when they are handed their ass.
13 posted on 5/1/2021, 8:30:22 AM by Mariner
It used to be an operational assumption that the rigid, doctrinaire command structure of conscript Warsaw Pact and Chicom forces would result in disarray when key leaders were lost on the battlefield, and by contrast, US forces consisted of individual soldiers ready to step up and take initiative and assume leadership roles when situations demanded. From what I read and hear, I'm not sure those distinctions are as clear as they once were.
-23 posted on 5/1/2021, 9:44:11 AM by Joe 6-pack
I have been reading these China is going to collapse anytime now stories for 20 years. They have only gotten more powerful.
- 31 posted on 5/1/2021, 10:24:34 AM by setter
They can't do logistics - they have never had to move lots of men and material under pressure. Something the US military is VERY good at (sometimes to our detriment).
-32 posted on 5/1/2021, 10:25:42 AM by Psalm 73
I have to laugh at this one. “China cannot do logistics“.
.
It is always the same garbage narrative. China is an evil authoritarian regime and the people are huddled ignorant masses and they need rescuing from their evil overlords. Yada. Yada. Yada.
.
The Civil Police publicly beat and incarcerate people daily, and sometimes torture and kill - its no secret except from the West. Filming is rare because of the plainclothes cops are everywhere and will stop and destroy the camera/phone - as are the ubiquitous State cameras watching for people filming.
-42 posted on 5/1/2021, 7:56:47 PM by PIF
Again, the illusions that these people have are comically insane.
.
The only people on the forum that doesn’t agree with the neocon narrative are people who have actually been to China, or to Asia. And they say some sane things, but they are obviously in the minority.
.
No China did not ‘lie about’ their Covid totals, at least for the most case.
I am in Vietnam now. Some similarities between China, and Vietnam. And some BIG differences as well (like I don’t see Vietnam as a threat to America)
There have been a grand total of 35 deaths due to Covid.
Really.
Thirty five.
-48 posted on 5/1/2021, 11:15:04 PM by cba123
They are lone voices, often drowned out by the loud and the ignorant.
China does innovate. There are many technical devices that are made there that are not made here. Hell, you can't even find decent documentation for devices I use because no American companies neither design or make this stuff.
And of course there are some good comments.
America is the place where innovation is dying. How can we expect to produce engineers if there aren't jobs for them here?
26 posted on 7/28/2019, 10:17:45 PM by GingisK
He also responds to one of the sheeple’s comments…
..Have yet to see anything innovative from the Chinese that they didn’t steal from us...Try to find something like an ESP32 that was made here first. Try to find a Bluetooth Low Energy transceiver on an XBee carrier that was made here first.
Those devices were both made in China. The ICs are made in the USA; however, there seems to be nobody here who will innovate products from them. Crap, people here can't get beyond Arduinos using peripherals that are created in China.
Few people understand how deep the damage to American innovation and engineering goes.
28 posted on 7/28/2019, 10:26:39 PM by GingisK
And this particular post addresses all the “Gung Ho” Sheeple that live off the illusion that the American media propaganda is correct…
... Few people understand how deep the damage to American innovation and engineering goes...That's why I get so annoyed with the "Puff the Magic Tariff" brigades here on FR. Tariffs can work tactically if you have industries left to protect, otherwise they equate to putting expensive doors on an empty barn....while your horses are already grazing in the next county. A massive reduction in the Cost of Liberalism is the most important task to focus on.
30 posted on 7/29/2019, 4:45:36 AM by Mr. Jeeves
Do you want more?
I have more articles like this in my China Index here…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Unknown in the rest of the world, but commonplace in China are these little robots that are seemingly everywhere. They scan you when you go into public buildings, and they help deliver food to you. They ask you if you need help or directions, and they help sweep the sidewalks and perform basic maintenance tasks. And here I am in a second tier city. Not even a first tier city. It’s all really cool.
According to the International Federation of Robotics (IFR), China has had the most industrial robotsin operation globally since 2016. By 2020, China is expected to produce 150,000 industrial robot units and have 950,300 industrial robots in operation.
A few years back was when I first noticed them. I think that my first exposure to the public robots was around 2013. There I saw my first one patrolling the immigration walkways of Shenzhen.
Then a few years ago, I bought my infant her first baby robot. This is a cute little egg about the size of barbie doll that sang and talked. It would pulse in this kind of pale yellowish light and it’s eyes would twinkle blue and green. She loved her little baby robot.
Since then I really haven’t paid the robot developments too closely. Most of my concern were in the industrial aspects of AI and robotics. Not so much regarding the commercial and public aspects.
Then 2020 Coronavirus hit.
Ouch! Then suddenly the skies were filled with thermal imaging drones, and police robots making sure that people are kept off the streets and maintaining good citizenship behaviors. The first were nothing more than a nice shiny white cylinder with a pair of eyes, a television screen and a nice voice.
Now they are getting more sophisticated. they all seem to have either a female voice or a cute little girls voice. It’s actually quite charming.
Here’s some videos. Check out the little girly voice on this delivery robot…
Factory Robots
And they have been in factories for decades now.
China made robotics a focal point of its recent “Made in China 2025” plan, and has set nationalgoals of producing 100,000 industrial robots a year and having 150 robots in operationforevery 10,000 employees by 2020, a figure known as robot density.
-Robots are key in China'sstrategytosurpassrivals
Service Robots
A service robot operates semi or fully autonomously to provide services for human health or the maintenance of equipment, excluding industrial operations.
Healthcare/medical devices, finance, warehousing/logistics, and customer service/catering are the hottest industries for service robots. Service robots have also increasingly been appearing in households as home-cleaning robots, accompanying robots, entertainment robots, and education robots.
In 2017, the market for service robots was worth an estimated US$1.32 billion in China. But with a rapidly aging population, the continuous demand for healthcare and education, and the rapid development of parking robots and supermarket robots, the market size of service robots in China is expected to exceed US$2.9 billion by 2020.
Here’s an example of a video performing warehouse activities…
Some fun pictures
Themainapplications of industrial robots in China are in the following sectors: automobile manufacturing, electrical and electronics, rubber plastics, metallurgy, food, chemical engineering, and medicineandcosmetics.
-The Robotics Industry in China - China Briefing News
Here’s a police robot that connects to your cell phone. It enables you to chat with it via your cell phone, exchange pictures, get directions and offers the entire host of government APPs that are available within China.
Robots come in many sizes and shapes. the smaller ones are just as capable as the larger ones and can provide translation services, guide, help and directions. This one is Wechat enabled and enables you to connect to it directly for information access and data.
Hospital Robots
Here’s a couple of police robots that assist in hospitals, airports, rail stations and other public venues. Like all police robots they provide ready access to a Police hot line, and immediate help in any distress situation.
Specialized service robots
Specialized service robots in China are generally considered those used for military applications, extreme operations, and emergency rescue.
Specialized service robots in China are increasingly being used in response to earthquakes, floods, extreme weather, fire, security, and other public safety incidents. With Chinese enterprises’ increasing safety awareness, specialized service robots will be used in dangerous environments to perform a wide variety of tasks.
In 2017, China’s market for specialized service robots was worth an estimated US$740 million. By 2020, it is expected to reach US$1.24 billion.
Here’s a robust all-terrain police robot for crowd control and assistance to people. It monitors the environment and responds to issues just like a normal policeman would.
In addition to regional clusters, China has more than 40 robotics-focused industrial parks throughout the country. Robotics-focused industrial parks benefit from government resources and incentives to promote the industry. At the 2017 World Robot Conferencein Beijing, CIE released the Report on the Development of China’s Robot Industry (2017).
-TheRobotics Industry in China - ChinaBriefingNews
AI advancements in Manufacturing
China has been the world’s largest industrial robot market for four consecutive years. In 2016, China had a total sales volume of almost 90,000 units – a 27 percent increase compared to 2015 and representing 30 percent of the global market.
The Chinese government has ambitious plans for the country’s robotics industry.
MIC 2025 starts by listing the robotics industry, along with artificial intelligence and automation, as one of the priority sectors for high-end development to push forward the transformation and upgrading of the manufacturing industry. This push sees the government aiming to raise the global market share of Chinese-made robots from 31 percent in 2016 to over 50 percent by 2020.
Further, in 2016, the government launched the Robotics Industry Development Plan (2016-2020) to promote robot applications to a wider range of fields and to attract foreign investment, aiming to make 100,000 industrial robots produced by domestic technology annually by 2020.
To attain these goals, the government supports companies that implement robotics-enabled automation in key industries, including automobile manufacturing, electronics, household electrical appliances, and logistics. The government has several programs and incentives to encourage R&D development and innovation, such as offering robot manufacturers and automation businesses subsidies, low-interest loans, tax relief, and land rental incentives.
Furthermore, the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology recently announced at a news conference in anticipation of the 2018 World Robot Conference that China has “approved a plan to build a national robotics innovation center, which will focus on tackling common bottlenecks such as human-machine interaction technologies and compliant control.”
During the 2017 Boao Forum, Chinese officials also restated the importance of domestic and foreign companies to be “treated equally in terms of qualification licenses, government procurement, and enjoying preferential policies of MIC 2025.” Nevertheless, many foreign governments and tech companies fear that MIC 2025 gives Chinese companies an unfair advantage.
-China Briefing
Police Robots
Here’s a police robot that answers your queries. Can provide directions, answer questions, respond to distress and show you where to go, including taking you to the police office or exit if you need help.
To date, the government’s efforts to develop the industry appear largely successful: China is the fastest growing robot market in the world. Analysts attribute China’s rising robotics industry to its scale, growth momentum, and capital.
As of March 2017, more than 800 companies in China were directly involved in robot manufacturing, and by the end of 2017, there were over 6,500 companies relating to robotics. Major Chinese robotics players include SIASUN and DJI Innovations.
Development primarily focuses on servo control, motor, and reducer, human-machine interaction techniques, robot vision and intelligent speech, and underwater robots, among other technologies.
The rapid growth in China’s robotics industry is not limited to domestic companies. Foreign companies such as Nachi-Fujikoshi and FANUC have franchised with KUKA, Reis Robotics, Staubli, and ABB to establish production facilities in China – not only sales or integrated offices. The Taiwanese electronics giant Foxconn is another major robotics player in China.
Government incentives have also allowed Chinese companies to acquire Western robotics technology companies. For example, in 2016, Midea Group acquired KUKA, one of the world’s largest robot manufacturers, to advance its home appliance production.
With strong government interest in the robotics industry, a large and growing number of Chinese companies, and foreign companies that often hold the most advanced technology, there are a number of different actors involved in the industry.
According to Martin Kefer, founder of Motus Operandi, a robotics software company based in Shanghai, foreign robotics companies entering the Chinese market must be prepared to deal with a large number of stakeholders.
Kefer noted that many of the manufacturers that are adopting robots operate in Sino-foreign joint ventures, such as in the auto industry, where foreign ownership is still capped.
“Getting the foot in the door with JV manufacturers can be difficult,” Kefer noted. “Every car company partnering with a local factory in a mandatory JV agreement can make negotiations among stakeholders more complicated.”
Furthermore, investors must be prepared for the government to be another key stakeholder in the industry. “[The] government is an actor on all levels,” Kefer said.
-China Briefing
Software for robots
Besides the current two traditional robotics businesses in China – hardware and system integration – foreign companies such as Motus Operandi are investing in a third solution: software designed for robots.
For example, Motus Operandi provides software for installation in robots that finds the most energy efficient way for a robot to carry out a given task, which can save companies millions annually.
“We focus on smart motion for robotics arms in manufacturing industries. We bring something new, which is reducing the energy consumption and improving the speed of the robot system, based on the data from the robot system.”
- Martin Kefer, founder of Motus Operandi, a robotics software company based in Shanghai
Robotics companies such as Motus Operandi benefit from the Chinese government’s support for the industry.
“Electricity is subsidized in China, which means the government pays the final bill,”
Yet, Kefer cautioned against over-reliance on subsidies and incentives.
“Avoid relying on government for growth,” “Support for startups in China are mostly for Chinese startups – securing government funding is harder for foreign startups.”
Motus Operandi’s experience is demonstrative of opportunities in China’s robotics industry. Aided by government support, producers of robots and related software and services are finding substantial room for growth.
However, these same government initiatives can also create competition and hurdles for foreign players in the long run. Such policies make the robotics industry an alluring but challenging area for foreign investment.
Everyday Robots
Here’s a police robot. It’s going around and helping people and monitoring crowd control and providing situational awareness.
According to the Chinese Institute of Electronics (CIE), east China’s Yangtze River Delta region has the most solid foundation for robotics development.
The Yangtze River Delta region has formed an agglomeration effect in Shanghai, Kunshan, Changzhou, Xuzhou, and Nanjing.
Many global robotics giants establish headquarters or offices in the Yangtze River Delta, especially in Shanghai, where Kefer noted that the startup environment is very supportive.
The robotics industry in the Pearl River Delta and the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei (Jing-Jin-Ji) regions are also gradually growing.
The number of robotics-related companies in the Pearl River Delta region is over 700, second only to the Yangtze River Delta region, with a total output value of RMB 75 billion (US$11.80 billion).
However, the industry’s overall innovative capabilities in the northeastern region – China’s rust belt – have been limited in recent years.
In China’s central and western regions, the foundation of robot production is relatively weak. However, these generally fast-growing regions still show potential for development.
In addition to regional clusters, China has more than 40 robotics-focused industrial parks throughout the country. Robotics-focused industrial parks benefit from government resources and incentives to promote the industry.
-China Briefing
Human appearing Robots
The world of robots is very interesting. From what I have shown so are, which are the norm inside of China, to the stuff that you don’t see often…
…like military robots.
…like sex robots.
I would say that about 99% of the sex robots are manufactured within China. It's a big industry and many Americans and people from the Middle East don't hesitate to pay a couple of thousand US dollars for a model of their choice.
And one of the most interesting are the human appearing life-like robots. Such as this…
Everyday Robots
These are some pictures of scenes that are not uncommon within China…
Or, this… which was all over Chinese television back in 2016 during the Chinese New Year. These little guys all danced up a storm, and five thousand or so.
Or, this little guy which is being exported to Japan…
Or, this… even this is becoming more common in the larger cities such as Shenzhen.
Some Chinese military robots
It’s a new world out there.
These are currently fielded. There are many more in development.
And an interesting write up on Chinese robots in 2016 (five years ago) on Global Security…
Some published science fiction a long time ago imagined battle scenes of robot soldiers in the future. Now this fantasy is becoming a reality due to the rapid development of automation technology in recent years. Military robots replace individual soldiers on the battlefield, which can greatly reduce the casualty rate of military personnel on the battlefield. Robots can return to the battlefield by mechanically repairing and replacing parts. The machine can be mass produced and hardly needs any training.
Military robots have stronger battlefield awareness than individual soldiers, and can detect potential dangers on the battlefield through sensors. Compared with individual soldiers, the machine has a stronger load capacity and can be equipped with various heavy weapons, which greatly improves the combat capability. The machine can perform round-the-clock tasks with guaranteed energy. Machines are more adaptable than individual soldiers and can adapt to different battlefield environments. Robots will not have emotions, making military tasks go more smoothly.
Unmanned technology has broad application prospects in the military field, will profoundly change the form and style of future warfare, and is the strategic frontier of the development of army equipment. Just as the invention of gunpowder sent modern warfare into the era of hot weapons, some scholars have asserted that artificial intelligence will be the key to detonating future warfare changes. Future wars will be wars on chips. This is not just a contest of human wisdom, but also a confrontation between unmanned systems. Unmanned systems will gradually free human soldiers from heavy physical work and extreme danger and let them focus on making combat decisions and carrying out technical and tactical movements. If such killer robots are put into battle on a large scale, it is very difficult for the human army to win.
The equipment of unmanned combat vehicles has greatly improved the technical and informatization level of Chinese troops. It gives infantry units stronger battlefield reconnaissance, situational awareness and support firepower. How to achieve perfect tactical coordination with unmanned combat vehicles and give full play to the combat capabilities of unmanned combat vehicles has become a very important issue facing the Chinese military.
The Chinese military is developing and testing autonomous / remote control large (over one ton) UGVs (unmanned ground vehicles), which include tanks based on the transformation of the equipment with a lot of artificial intelligence. With the ability to fight autonomously, soldiers can control it remotely. According to military experts of China, the program of robotization of the armed forces in the period from 2014 to 2022 and meeting the needs of the PLA with various types must be accompanied by a 15 percent annual increase in expenditures for these purposes from 570 million. USA in 2013 to 2 billion in 2022.
China is trying to catch up and intends to become the first in this field. UGVs can be traced back to the 1990s , when the U.S. Department of Defense developed a four-wheeled, 1.6- ton MDARS (Motion Detection Evaluation and Response System) robotic vehicle for security tasks. This robot is equipped with radar and three-dimensional vision sensors. It can avoid obstacles and recognize any objects encountered. Since 2001, Americans have equipped thousands of robots of this type. Chinese military experts have concluded that the design and creation of fully Autonomous weapons systems is possible only in the long term. The unresolved question is to determine the volume of tasks, operation and the role of Autonomous robotic systems on the battlefield.
The People’s Liberation Army Ground Force (PLAGF) recently announced that the Sharp Claw I unmanned ground vehicle (UGV), manufactured by China North Industries Corporation (Norinco), entered service on April 13. This was first reported by China Central Television 7 and was subsequently confirmed by the PLA’s Eastern Theatre Command. Jane’s, the UK-based military news site, was among the first to report the development in the West.
According to Jane’s, Sharp Claw I is a tracked combat and reconnaissance robot weighing 120 kg. (265 lbs.) and measuring 70 cm (28 inches) in length, with an operational range of 1 kilometer (0.6 miles). It can be carried in the cargo bay of the much larger Sharp Claw II UGV, and is designed primarily for use in remote areas unaccessible to human infantry. Sharp Claw II is a 6' x 6' wheeled, unmanned ground vehicle designed to execute combat reconnaissance, patrol, assault and transport duties.
Sharp Claw I is capable of detecting and attacking targets “in all weather conditions during the day and at night,” according to Norinco. It is armed with a light machine gun firing 7.62mm rounds. Norinco says the killer robot can operate autonomously.
First displayed as a prototype in air shows in 2014 and 2018, the operational Sharp Claw I has been fitted with numerous upgrades designed to improve its reconnaissance and killing abilities. These include an improved short-range electro-optical payload, machine vision, lighting suite and a refined magazine box and ammunition feed mechanism.
The Sharp Claw 1 can walk autonomously, or it can be carried in the cabin of a larger "pointed claw 2" transport unmanned combat vehicle. When marching, they will be transported by the "Jianclaw" 2, and when they reach the combat area, they will march down from the back panel placed behind the cab of the Jianclaw 2 wheeled unmanned combat vehicle for combat. Four years later, at the Zhuhai Air Show in 2018, North Company once again demonstrated an upgraded version of the "Jianclaw" 1 unmanned fighter. The new version has many upgrades, including improved short-range photoelectric loads, machine vision and lighting components, and a newly designed remote weapon station. The weapon station uses ammunition boxes to load ammunition, which can improve the continuous firing ability of unmanned combat vehicles.
Unmanned ground systems (UGVs) are a priority in China’s defense plans, but their deployment appeared limited. UGVs encompass numerous vehicles that operate on land with a human operator or autonomously. They can execute military missions including combat, ordnance disposal, and transport. Numerous Chinese civilian and defense companies, universities, and research institutes are developing UGVs and other unmanned ground systems. R&D on intelligent guidance for unmanned ground platforms is reported to receive support from China’s 973 and 863 programs for high-technology development, as well as the Twelfth FYP of the General Armament Department (GAD).
To spur these systems’ development, in 2014 the former GAD hosted the first robot competition, which featured 21 vehicles from over ten research institutes. Teams from NUDT came in first and second place, a team from BIT came in third place, and a team from the PLA’s Military Transportation University came in fourth place.
In September 2016 the Chinese military hosted the “2016 Leap Over Treacherous Paths” contest. The contest hosted five competitions for unmanned ground systems to simulate battle operations in different terrains and missions. The competition areas are rough terrain battlefield reconnaissance, rough terrain battlefield marching in formation, urban battlefield reconnaissance and search, transport in mountainous regions by bionic unmanned platforms, and transport in mountainous regions by non-bionic unmanned platforms.
The “Overcoming Dangers 2016” Ground Unmanned System Challenge took the form of socialized public release. Since its release on June 7, a total of 56 units, 116 platforms (times), and 557 people signed up to participate in the competition. Research institutes, state-owned enterprises, private enterprises and many other fields of research forces signed up to participate.
On the morning of September 6, the preliminary round of the “Overcoming Dangers 2016” Ground Unmanned System Challenge was grandly held in Tahe, Heilongjiang. After review by the expert group, a total of 40 leading units, 44 cooperating units, 73 teams, and 99 vehicles. Equipment participated in the preliminary round of this challenge. Lasted for 8 days, the preliminary round was successfully concluded on September 13, and 22 of the 73 participating teams advanced to the final.
The finals focused on strengthening the leadership of military requirements in the setting of missions and drove the development of unmanned systems related technology. There were three types of competitions, divided into five competition groups, namely: field battlefield missions, urban battlefield reconnaissance and There are three types of competitions, search and mountain transportation, which are divided into five groups according to the tonnage of the participating platforms and the features of functional structure.
After fierce competition, the Lions Intelligent No. 1 fleet of the Military Transportation Academy, the live-fire robot fleet of Inner Mongolia Zhongyi Electric Instrument Automation Company, the Run No. 1 fleet of the China North Vehicle Research Institute, and the Sunward Intelligent Fleet of Sunward Intelligent Equipment Co., Ltd. Champion of each participating project group.
More robot warriors are entering the arsenal of the Chinese military, with the latest additions being a small model that's equipped with a machine gun and a crane-like missile-loading robot, and experts said on Tuesday that robots will free human soldiers from heavy physical work and unnecessary danger.
The Chinese People's Liberation Army (PLA) is in possession of the small ground robot, which can traverse complicated terrains, accurately observe battlefield situations and provide ferocious firepower, the PLA Eastern Theater Command said on Sina Weibo on Monday when reposting a China Central Television (CCTV) report on the robot. In an announcement made on 13 April via its Sina Weibo account the PLA’s Eastern Theatre Command confirmed an 11 April report by the China Central Television 7 (CCTV 7) channel stating that the tracked, combat, and reconnaissance UGV was now in service with the Chinese military.
The thigh-high robot looks like a small assault vehicle. It walks on tracks similar to a tank, allowing it to adapt to complicated terrains in open field combat, move quickly and climb stairs, CCTV reported. Equipped with a machine gun, and observation and detection equipment including night vision devices, the robot can replace a human soldier in dangerous reconnaissance missions, the report said. Target practice results showed the robot has acceptable accuracy, and the use of weapons still requires human control.
This last picture looks like a ripoff of the Boston Dynamics robot, eh?
Well, you all do know that the leading scientists, engineers and designers for Boston Dynamics are all Chinese nationals. And when Trump told them to leave the country, they left and tried to find other work in China. Lucky for them that China is an engineering-friendly and manufacturing-friendly nation.
Robots are not just science fiction anymore. They left the industrial applications and have entered the realms of consumer appliances, government services, and are providing new avenues and opportunities for the Chinese citizenry.
I wrote this post because I am seeing them slide into my life effortlessly. And now I’ve got a baby robot for my child and health and police robots at my local malls and police stations. It’s become normal.
So what do you suppose is next?
Here’s an army of “attack robots” made in China that are designed to fight in packs and coordinate their movements.
I guess that it is the new “wave of the future”.
And speaking of waves… how about some mechanical sharks. Maybe with death lasers for eyes…
Fearsome life-size ‘bionic machine shark’ robot unveiled at Chinese military tech show. It can be a bomb or can provide intel via sensory system. It can jam radar, communications and mess up sensors. Pretty cool. Especially as it is the size of a baby shark.
Oh, heck.
Forget about ships. How about entire navy of robot craft…
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
Well, just because your life seems to be frozen in time, doesn’t mean that the rest of the world has stopped as well. It hasn’t. It keeps on moving on.
On and on.
There seems to be a real push for robotic automation; actual robots to do things that humans cannot. This includes things such as fighting fires, exploring the deep oceans, or the surfaces of Mars or Venus, and perhaps providing police services.
The Massachusetts State Police is the first law enforcement agency in the country to utilize a robotic dog in its operations, named Spot.
Robotic technology is not entirely a new concept in the ranks of law enforcement. Particularly, Spot is touted to be an addition to the line of robotics that can potentially help prevent casualties, and provide reliable and safe services to reduce risk in day-to-day police operations.
And in other ways as well, like “pack mules” or agile transport mediums. Mediums that can fight when needed.
Well, a robot can be programmed. And you cannot blame it for racism, or favoritism. Or any other excuses that are being politicized right now in America. You can program it to follow distinct rules and not worry about paying it, over-working it, pensions, or personal opinions.
You tell it what to do and it carries out your orders ruthlessly and without remorse.
It is perfect for the PTB and the Oligarchy to control people, nationalistic movements and other things that rulers find distasteful.
Technology
So…
You all realize that technology is moving forward at an incredible pace. You also know that China is leading the world in 5G technology. As well as robotics, IoT and AI (artificial Intelligence). Lately, the Trump administration has been doing everything in it’s power to stop the ability of China to procure, and develop AI chips. Have you ever stopped and wonder why?
Is it because America doesn’t want the Chinese to market better cell-phones, or is it something else?
The expression you get when you watch Boston Dynamics videos.
Is it something else?
You know full darn well that machines and computers malfunction. No matter how well-made. There is not one reader out there out in internet-land that hasn’t see the “blue screen of death“, or have had a car that won’t start. Machines malfunction.
And even worse than that, what about “hackers”? Right now there is “ransom ware”, and software that hijacks your computer. Imagine if that occurs with police or military robots… yikes!
Important Note
The following movie is great, and it must be seen to be believed. Please kindly allow the video to fully load and watch it. It is not some kind of special effects as part of a movie. It is the state of robotic police technology today.
The nation that controls the AI chipsets control the future battlefield.
It’s a strange and dangerous new world out there. It is becoming stranger and stranger, and more and more threatening. And the sad thing about all of this, is that technology is advancing, but human nature is staying the same.
Conclusion
Sara Conner from the science fiction movie “The Terminator”.
There is coming a time when the rise of technology crosses the threshold of human ignorance. And at that time, the dangers of technology can be such that the entire species can be eradicated and the earth rendered uninhabitable.
Therefore, it is of critical importance that human sentience be stabilized.
A world filled with technologically adept humans of wildly divergence sentience’s will absolutely result in danger and catastrophe. The human species MUST, absolutely must have a single unified majority sentience.
It needs to happen before the technology / sentience interface is breached.
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You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
Please kindly help me out in this effort. There is a lot of effort that goes into this disclosure. I could use all the financial support that anyone could provide. Thank you.
Back in the day, I had amassed many, many tomes and collections of fine science fiction stories. I really loved the works from the “Golden Age” of science fiction, and one of my favorite writers was Lewis Padgett. Not well known, but completely awesome.
He wrote a series of short stories revolving around a mad scientist that produced brilliant work when he was shit-faced drunk. It’s not real life. That’s why I love it so. It’s so anti-PC.
Here is one of his best. This is a lively and often frankly hilarious account of how a very gifted (when under the influence of the demon Drink) scientist struggles to come to grips with the wackiness of his almost-perfect robot.
It’s one of his many, many creations while drunk. In this case, it is one in which he had just created with quite extraordinary powers, for a purpose which he cannot remember – and with his seemingly inextricable financial predicament(s).
It was first published in the October 1943 issue of Astounding Science Fiction as by “Lewis Padgett”, a nom de plume used by Henry Kuttner (1915–1958) and his wife C.L. Moore (1911-1987) for many of the 200+ fantasy, s-f and horror stories which they wrote together, essentially during the forties, mostly under this name.
The Proud Robot
ORIGINALLY the robot was intended to be a can opener. Things often happened that way with Gallegher, who played at science by ear. He was, as he often remarked, a casual genius. Sometimes he’d start with a twist of wire, a few batteries, and a button hook, and before he finished, he might contrive a new type of refrigerating unit. The affair of the time locker had begun that way, with Gallegher singing hoarsely under his breath and peering, quite drunk, into cans of paint.
At the moment he was nursing a hangover. A disjointed, lanky, vaguely boneless man with a lock of dark hair falling untidily over leis forehead, he lay on the couch in the lab and manipulated his mechanical liquor bar. A very dry Martini drizzled slowly from the spigot into his receptive mouth. He was trying to remember something, but not trying too hard. It had to do with the robot, of course. Well, it didn’t matter.
“Hey, Joe,” Gallegher said.
The robot stood proudly before the mirror and examined its innards. Its hull was transparent, and wheels were going around at a great rate inside.
“When you call me that,” Joe remarked, “whisper. And get that cat out of here.”
“Your ears aren’t that good.”
“They are. I can hear the cat walking about, all right.”
“What does it sound like?” Gallegher inquired, interested.
“Just like drums,” said the robot, with a put-upon air. “And when you talk, it’s like thunder.” Joe’s voice was a discordant squeak, so Gallegher meditated on saying something about glass-houses and casting the first stone. He brought his attention, with some effort, to the luminous door panel, where a shadow loomed—a familiar shadow, Gallegher thought.
“It’s Brock,” the annunciator said. “Harrison Brock. Let me in!”
“The door’s unlocked.” Gallegher didn’t stir. He looked gravely at the well-dressed, middle-aged man who came in, and tried to remember. Brock was between forty and fifty; he had a smoothly massaged, clean-shaved face, and wore an expression of harassed intolerance. Probably Gallegher knew the man. He wasn’t sure.
Oh, well.
Brock looked around the big, untidy laboratory, blinked at the robot, searched for a chair, and failed to find it. Arms akimbo, he rocked back and forth and glared at the prostrate scientist.
“Well?” he said.
“Never start conversations that way,” Gallegher mumbled, siphoning another Martini down his gullet. “I’ve had enough trouble today. Sit down and take it easy. There’s a dynamo behind you. It isn’t very dusty, is it?”
“Did you get it?” Brock snapped. “That’s all I want to know. You’ve had a week. I’ve a check for ten thousand in my pocket. Do you want it, or don’t you?”
“Sure,” Gallegher said. He extended a large, groping hand. “Give.”
“Caveat emptor. What am I buying?”
“Don’t you know?” the scientist asked, honestly puzzled.
Brock began to bounce up and down in a harassed fashion. “My God,” he said. “They told me you could help me if anybody could. Sure. And they also said it’d be like pulling teeth to get sense out of you. Are you a technician or a driveling idiot?”
Gallegher pondered. “Wait a minute. I’m beginning to remember. I talked to you last week, didn’t I?”
“You talked—” Brock’s round face turned pink. “Yes! You lay there swilling liquor and babbled poetry. You sang ’Frankie and Johnnie.’ And you finally got around to accepting my commission.”
“The fact is,” Gallegher said, “I have been drunk. I often get drunk. Especially on my vacation. It releases my subconscious, and then I can work. I’ve made my best gadgets when I was tizzied,” he went on happily. “Everything seems so clear then. Clear as a bell. I mean a bell, don’t I? Anyway—” He lost the thread and looked puzzled. “Anyway, what are you talking about?”
“Are you going to keep quiet?” the robot demanded from its post before the mirror.
Brock jumped. Gallegher waved a casual hand. “Don’t mind Joe. I just finished him last night, and I rather regret it.”
“A robot?”
“A robot. But he’s no good, you know. I made him when I was drunk, and I haven’t the slightest idea how or why. All he’ll do is stand there and admire himself. And sing. He sings like a banshee. You’ll hear him presently.”
With an effort Brock brought his attention back to the matter in hand. “Now look, Gallegher. I’m in a spot. You promised to help me. If you don’t, I’m a ruined man.”
“I’ve been ruined for years,” the scientist remarked. “It never bothers me. I just go along working for a living and making things in my spare time. Making all sorts of things. You know, if I’d really studied, I’d have been another Einstein. So they tell me. As it is, my subconscious picked up a first-class scientific training somewhere. Probably that’s why I never bothered. When I’m drunk or sufficiently absent-minded, I can work out the damnedest problems.”
“You’re drunk now,” Brock accused.
“I approach the pleasanter stages. How would you feel if you woke up and found you’d made a robot for some unknown reason, and hadn’t the slightest idea of the creature’s attributes?”
“Well—”
“I don’t feel that way at all,” Gallegher murmured. “Probably you take life too seriously, Brock. Wine is a mocker; strong drink is raging. Pardon me. I rage.” He drank another Martini.
Brock began to pace around the crowded laboratory, circling various enigmatic and untidy objects. “If you’re a scientist, Heaven help science.”
“I’m the Larry Adler of science,” Gallegher said. “He was a musician—lived some hundreds of years ago, I think. I’m like him. Never took a lesson in my life. Can I help it if my subconscious likes practical jokes?”
“Do you know who I am?” Brock demanded.
“Candidly, no. Should I?”
There was bitterness in the other’s voice. “You might have the courtesy to remember, even though it was a week ago. Harrison Brock. Me. I own Vox-View Pictures.”
“No,” the robot said suddenly, “it’s no use. No use at all, Brock.”
“What the—”
Gallegher sighed wearily. “I forget the damned thing’s alive. Mr. Brock, meet Joe. Joe, meet Mr. Brock—of Vox-View.”
Joe turned, gears meshing within his transparent skull. “I am glad to meet you, Mr. Brock. Allow me to congratulate you on your good fortune in hearing my lovely voice.”
“Uh,” said the magnate inarticulately. “Hello.”
“Vanity of vanities, all is vanity,” Gallegher put in, sotto voce. “Joe’s like that. A peacock. No use arguing with him, either.”
The robot ignored this aside. “But it’s no use, Mr. Brock,” he went on squeakily. “I’m not interested in money. I realize it would bring happiness to many if I consented to appear in your pictures, but fame means nothing to me. Nothing. Consciousness of beauty is enough.”
Brock began to chew his lips. “Look,” he said savagely, “I didn’t come here to offer you a picture job. See? Am I offering you a contract? Such colossal nerve— Pah! You’re crazy.”
“Your schemes are perfectly transparent,” the robot remarked coldly. “I can see that you’re overwhelmed by my beauty and the loveliness of my voice—its grand tonal qualities. You needn’t pretend you don’t want me, just so you can get me at a lower price. I said I wasn’t interested.”
“You’re cr-r-razy!” Brock howled, badgered beyond endurance, and Joe calmly turned back to his mirror.
“Don’t talk so loudly,” the robot warned. “The discordance is deafening. Besides, you’re ugly and I don’t like to look at you.” Wheels and cogs buzzed inside the transplastic shell. Joe extended his eyes on stalks and regarded himself with every appearance of appreciation.
Gallegher was chuckling quietly on the couch. “Joe has a high irritation value,” he said. “I’ve found that out already. I must have given him some remarkable senses, too. An hour ago he started to laugh his damn fool head off. No reason, apparently. I was fixing myself a bite to eat. Ten minutes after that I slipped on an apple core I’d thrown away and came down hard.
Joe just looked at me. ’That was it,’ he said. ’Logics of probability. Cause and effect. I knew you were going to drop that apple core and then step on it when you went to pick up the mail.’
Like the White Queen, I suppose. It’s a poor memory that doesn’t work both ways.”
Brock sat on the small dynamo—there were two, the larger one named Monstro, and the smaller one serving Gallegher as a bank—and took deep breaths. “Robots are nothing new.”
“This one is. I hate its gears. It’s beginning to give me an inferiority complex. Wish I knew why I’d made it,” Gallegher sighed. “Oh, well. Have a drink?”
“No. I came here on business. Do you seriously mean you spent last week building a robot instead of solving the problem I hired you for?”
“Contingent, wasn’t it?” Gallegher asked. “I think I remember that.”
“Contingent,” Brock said with satisfaction. “Ten thousand, if and when.”
“Why not give me the dough and take the robot? He’s worth that. Put him in one of your pictures.”
“I won’t have any pictures unless you figure out an answer,” Brock snapped. “I told you all about it.”
“I have been drunk,” Gallegher said. “My mind has been wiped clear, as by a sponge. I am as a little child. Soon I shall be as a drunken little child. Meanwhile, if you’d care to explain the matter again—”
Brock gulped down his passion, jerked a magazine at random from the bookshelf, and took out a stylo. “All right. My preferred stocks are at twenty-eight, ’way below par—” He scribbled figures on the magazine.
“If you’d taken that medieval folio next to that, it’d have cost you a pretty penny,” Gallegher said lazily. “So you’re the sort of guy who writes on tablecloths, eh? Forget this business of stocks and stuff. Get down to cases. Who are you trying to gyp?”
“It’s no use,” the robot said from before its mirror. “I won’t sign a contract. People may come and admire me, if they like, but they’ll have to whisper in my presence.”
“A madhouse,” Brock muttered, trying to get a grip on himself. “Listen, Gallegher. I told you all this a week ago, but—”
“Joe wasn’t here then. Pretend like you’re talking to him.” “Uh—look. You’ve heard of Vox-View Pictures, at least.”
“Sure. The biggest and best television company in the business. Sonatone’s about your only competitor.”
“Sonatone’s squeezing me out.”
Gallegher looked puzzled. “I don’t see how. You’ve got the best product. Tri-dimensional color, all sorts of modern improvements, the top actors, musicians, singers—”
“No use,” the robot said. “I won’t.”
“Shut up, Joe. You’re tops in your field, Brock. I’ll hand you that. And I’ve always heard you were fairly ethical. What’s Sonatone got on you?”
Brock made helpless gestures. “Oh, it’s politics. The bootleg theaters. I can’t buck ’em. Sonatone helped elect the present administration, and the police just wink when I try to have the bootleggers raided.”
“Bootleg theaters?” Gallegher asked, scowling a trifle. “I’ve heard something—”
“It goes ’way back. To the old sound-film days. Home television killed sound film and big theaters. People were conditioned away from sitting in audience groups to watch a screen. The home televisors got good. It was more fun to sit in an easy-chair, drink beer, and watch the show. Television wasn’t a rich man’s hobby by that time. The meter system brought the price down to middle-class levels. Everybody knows that.”
“I don’t,” Gallegher said. “I never pay attention to what goes on outside of my lab, unless I have to. Liquor and a selective mind. I ignore everything that doesn’t affect me directly. Explain the whole thing in detail, so I’ll get a complete picture. I don’t mind repetition. Now, what about this meter system of yours?”
“Televisors are installed free. We never sell ’em; we rent them. People pay according to how many hours they have the set tuned in. We run a continuous show, stage plays, wire-tape films, operas, orchestras, singers, vaudeville—everything. If you use your televisor a lot, you pay proportionately. The man comes around once a month and reads the meter. Which is a fair system.
Anybody can afford a Vox-View. Sonatone and the other companies do the same thing, but Sonatone’s the only big competitor I’ve got. At least, the only one that’s crooked as hell. The rest of the boys—they’re smaller than I am, but I don’t step on their toes. Nobody’s ever called me a louse,” Brock said darkly.
“So what?”
“So Sonatone has started to depend on audience appeal. It was impossible till lately—you couldn’t magnify tri-dimensional television on a big screen without streakiness and mirage-effect. That’s why the regular three-by-four home screens were used. Results were perfect. But Sonatone’s bought a lot of the ghost theaters all over the country—”
“What’s a ghost theater?” Gallegher asked.
“Well—before sound films collapsed, the world was thinking big. Big—you know? Ever heard of the Radio City Music Hall? That wasn’t in it! Television was coming in, and competition was fierce. Sound-film theaters got bigger and more elaborate. They were palaces. Tremendous. But when television was perfected, nobody went to the theaters any more, and it was often too expensive a job to tear ’em down. Ghost theaters—see? Big ones and little ones. Renovated them. And they’re showing Sonatone programs. Audience appeal is quite a factor. The theaters charge plenty, but people flock into ’em. Novelty and the mob instinct.” Gallegher closed his eyes. “What’s to stop you from doing the same thing?”
“Patents,” Brock said briefly. “I mentioned that dimensional television couldn’t be used on big screens till lately. Sonatone signed an agreement with me ten years ago that any enlarging improvements would be used mutually. They crawled out of that contract. Said it was faked, and the courts upheld them. They uphold the courts—politics. Anyhow, Sonatone’s technicians worked out a method of using the large screen. They took out patents—twenty-seven patents, in fact, covering every possible variation on the idea. My technical staff has been working day and night trying to find some similar method that won’t be an infringement, but Sonatone’s got it all sewed up. They’ve a system called the Magna. It can be hooked up to any type of televisor—but they’ll only allow it to be used on Sonatone machines. See?”
“Unethical, but legal,” Gallegher said. “Still, you’re giving your customers more for their money. People want good stuff. The size doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah,” Brock said bitterly, “but that isn’t all. The newspapers are full of A.A.—it’s a new catchword. Audience Appeal. The herd instinct. You’re right about people wanting good stuff—but would you buy Scotch at four a quart if you could get it for half that amount?”
“Depends on the quality. What’s happening?”
“Bootleg theaters,” Brock said. “They’ve opened all over the country. They show Vox-View products, and they’re using the Magna enlarger system Sonatone’s got patented. The admission price is low—lower than the rate of owning a Vox-View in your own home. There’s audience appeal. There’s the thrill of something a bit illegal. People are having their Vox-Views taken out right and left. I know why. They can go to a bootleg theater instead.”
“It’s illegal,” Gallegher said thoughtfully.
“So were speakeasies, in the Prohibition Era. A matter of protection, that’s all. I can’t get any action through the courts. I’ve tried. I’m running in the red. Eventually I’ll be broke. I can’t lower my home rental fees on Vox-Views. They’re nominal already. I make my profits through quantity. Now, no profits. As for these bootleg theaters, it’s pretty obvious who’s backing them.”
“Sonatone?”
“Sure. Silent partners. They get the take at the box office. ’What they want is to squeeze me out of business, so they’ll have a monopoly. After that they’ll give the public junk and pay their artists starvation salaries. With me it’s different. I pay my staff what they’re worth—plenty.”
“And you offered me a lousy ten thousand,” Gallegher remarked.
“Uh-huh!”
“That was only the first installment,” Brock said hastily. “You can name your own fee. Within reason,” he added.
“I shall. An astronomical sum. Did I say I’d accept the commission a week ago?”
“You did.”
“Then I must have had some idea how to solve the problem,” Gallegher pondered. “Let’s see. I didn’t mention anything in particular, did I?”
“You kept talking about marble slabs and . . . uh . . . your sweetie.”
“Then I was singing,” Gallegher explained largely. ” ’St. James Infirmary.’ Singing calms my nerves, and Lord knows they need it sometimes. Music and liquor. ’I often wonder what the vintners buy—’ “
“What?”
” ’One half so precious as the stuff they sell.’ Let it go. I am quoting Omar. It means nothing. Are your technicians any good?”
“The best. And the best paid.”
“They can’t find a magnifying process that won’t infringe on the Sonatone Magna patents?”
“In a nutshell, that’s it.”
“I suppose I’ll have to do some research,” Gallegher said sadly. I hate it like poison. Still, the sum of the parts equals the whole. Does that make sense to you? It doesn’t to me. I have trouble with words. After I say things, I start wondering what I’ve said. Better than watching a play,” he finished wildly. “I’ve got a headache. Too much talk and not enough liquor. Where were we?”
“Approaching the madhouse,” Brock suggested. “If you weren’t my last resort, I’d—”
“No use,” the robot said squeakily. “You might as well tear up your contract, Brock. I won’t sign it. Fame means nothing to me—nothing.”
“If you don’t shut up,” Gallegher warned, “I’m going to scream in your ears.”
“All right!” Joe shrilled. “Beat me! Go on, beat me! The meaner you are, the faster I’ll have my nervous system disrupted, and then I’ll be dead. I don’t care. I’ve got no instinct of self-preservation. Beat me. See if I care.”
“He’s right, you know,” the scientist said after a pause. “And it’s the only logical way to respond to blackmail or threats. The sooner it’s over, the better. There aren’t any gradations with Joe. Anything really painful to him will destroy him. And he doesn’t give a damn.”
“Neither do I,” Brock grunted. “What I want to find out—”
“Yeah. I know. Well, I’ll wander around and see what occurs to me. Can I get into your studios?”
“Here’s a pass.” Brock scribbled something on the back of a card.
“Will you get to work on it right away?”
“Sure,” Gallegher lied. “Now you run along and take it easy. Try and cool off. Everything’s under control. I’ll either find a solution to your problem pretty soon or else—”
“Or else what?”
“Or else I won’t,” the scientist finished blandly, and fingered the buttons on a control panel near the couch. “I’m tired of Martinis. Why didn’t I make that robot a mechanical bartender, while I was at it? Even the effort of selecting and pushing buttons is depressing at times. Yeah, I’ll get to work on the business, Brock. Forget it.”
The magnate hesitated. “Well, you’re my only hope. I needn’t bother to mention that if there’s anything I can do to help you—”
“A blonde,” Gallegher murmured. “That gorgeous, gorgeous star of yours, Silver O’Keefe. Send her over. Otherwise I want nothing.”
“Good-by, Brock,” the robot said squeakily. “Sorry we couldn’t get together on the contract, but at least you’ve had the ineluctable delight of hearing my beautiful voice, not to mention the pleasure of seeing me. Don’t tell too many people how lovely I am. I really don’t want to be bothered with mobs. They’re noisy.”
“You don’t know what dogmatism means till you’ve talked to Joe,” Gallegher said. “Oh, well. See you later. Don’t forget the blonde.”
Brock’s lips quivered. He searched for words, gave it up as a vain task, and turned to the door.
“Good-by, you ugly man,” Joe said.
Gallegher winced as the door slammed, though it was harder on the robot’s supersensitive ears than on his own. “Why do you go on like that?” he inquired. “You nearly gave the guy apoplexy.”
“Surely he didn’t think he was beautiful,” Joe remarked. “Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder.”
“How stupid you are. You’re ugly, too.”
“And you’re a collection of rattletrap gears, pistons and cogs. You’ve got worms,” said Gallegher, referring, of course, to certain mechanisms in the robot’s body.
“I’m lovely.” Joe stared raptly into the mirror.
“Maybe, to you. Why did I make you transparent, I wonder?”
“So others could admire me. I have X-ray vision, of course.”
“And wheels in your head. Why did I put your radioatomic brain in your stomach? Protection?”
Joe didn’t answer. He was humming in a maddeningly squeaky voice, shrill and nerve-racking. Gallegher stood it for a while, fortifying himself with a gin rickey from the siphon.
“Get it up!” he yelped at last. “You sound like an old-fashioned subway train going around a curve.”
“You’re merely jealous,” Joe scoffed, but obediently raised his tone to a supersonic pitch. There was silence for a half-minute. Then all the dogs in the neighborhood began to howl.
Wearily Gallegher dragged his lanky frame up from the couch. He might as well get out. Obviously there was no peace to be had in the laboratory. Not with that animated junk pile inflating his ego all over the place. Joe began to laugh in an off-key cackle.
Gallegher winced.
“What now?”
“You’ll find out.”
Logic of causation and effect, influenced by probabilities, X-ray vision and other enigmatic senses the robot no doubt possessed. Gallegher cursed softly, found a shapeless black hat, and made for the door. He opened it to admit a short, fat man who bounced painfully off the scientist’s stomach.
“Whoof! What a corny sense of humor that jackass has. Hello, Mr. Kennicott. Glad to see you. Sorry I can’t offer you a drink.” Mr. Kennicott’s swarthy face twisted malignantly. “Don’ wanna no drink. Wanna my money. You gimme. Howzabout it?”
Gallegher looked thoughtfully at nothing. “Well, the fact is, I was just going to collect a check.”
“I sella you my diamonds. You say you gonna make somet’ing wit’ ’em. You gimme check before. It go bounca, bounca, bounca. Why is?”
“It was rubber,” Gallegher said faintly. “I never can keep track of my bank balance.”
Kennicott showed symptoms of going bounca on the threshold. “You gimme back diamonds, eh?”
“Well, I used ’em in an experiment, I forget just what. You know, Mr. Kennicott, I think I was a little drunk when I bought them, wasn’t I?”
“Dronk,” the little man agreed. “Mad wit’ vino, sure. So whatta? I wait no longer. Awready you put me off too much. Pay up now or elsa.”
“Go away, you dirty man,” Joe said from within the room. “You’re awful.”
Gallegher hastily shouldered Kennicott out into the street and latched the door behind him. “A parrot;” he explained. “I’m going to wring its neck pretty soon. Now about that money. I admit I owe it to you. I’ve just taken on a big job, and when I’m paid, you’ll get yours.”
“Bah to such stuff,” Kennicott said. “You gotta position, eh? You are technician wit’ some big company, Ai? Ask for ahead-salary.”
“I did,” Gallegher sighed. “I’ve drawn my salary for six months ahead. Now look, I’ll have that dough for you in a couple of days. Maybe I can get an advance from my client. O. K.?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Ah-h, nutsa. I waita one day. Two daysa, maybe. Enough. You get money. Awright. If not, O. K., calabozo for you.”
“Two days is plenty,” Gallegher said, relieved. “Say, are there any of those bootleg theaters around here?”
“Better you get to work an’ not waste time.”
“That’s my work. I’m making a survey. How can I find a bootleg place?”
“Easy. You go downtown, see guy in doorway. He sell you tickets. Anywhere. All over.”
“Swell,” Gallegher said, and bade the little man adieu. Why had he bought diamonds from Kennicott? It would be almost worth while to have his subconscious amputated. It did the most extraordinary things. It worked on inflexible principles of logic, but that logic was completely alien to Gallegher’s conscious mind. The results, though, were often surprisingly good, and always surprising. That was the worst of being a scientist who knew no science—who played by ear.
There was diamond dust in a retort in the laboratory, from some unsatisfactory experiment Gallegher’s subconscious had performed; and he had a fleeting memory of buying the stones from Kennicott. Curious. Maybe—oh, yeah. They’d gone into Joe. Bearings or something. Dismantling the robot wouldn’t help now, for the diamonds had certainly been reground. Why the devil hadn’t he used commercial stones, quite as satisfactory, instead of purchasing blue-whites of the finest water? The best was none too good for Gallegher’s subconscious. It had a fine freedom from commercial instincts. It just didn’t understand the price system or the basic principles of economics.
Gallegher wandered downtown like a Diogenes seeking truth. It was early evening, and the luminates were flickering on overhead, pale bars of light against darkness. A sky sign blazed above Manhattan’s towers. Air-taxis, skimming along at various arbitrary levels, paused for passengers at the elevator landings. Heigh-ho.
Downtown, Gallegher began to look for doorways. He found an occupied one at last, but the man was selling post cards. Gallegher declined and headed for the nearest bar, feeling the need of replenishment. It was a mobile bar, combining the worst features of a Coney Island ride with uninspired cocktails, and Gallegher hesitated on the threshold. But at last he seized a chair as it swung past and relaxed as much as possible. He ordered three rickeys and drank them in rapid succession. After that he called the bartender over and asked him about bootleg theaters.
“Hell, yes,” the man said, producing a sheaf of tickets from his apron. “How many?”
“One. Where do I go?”
“Two-twenty-eight. This street. Ask for Tony.”
“Thanks,” Gallegher said, and, having paid exorbitantly, crawled out of the chair and weaved away. Mobile bars were an improvement he didn’t appreciate. Drinking, he felt, should be performed in a state of stasis, since one eventually reached that stage, anyway.
The door was at the bottom of a flight of steps, and there was a grilled panel set in it. When Gallegher knocked, the visascreen lit up—obviously a one-way circuit, for the doorman was invisible.
“Tony here?” Gallegher said.
The door opened, revealing a tired-looking man in pneumo-slacks, which failed in their purpose of building up his skinny figure. “Got a ticket? Let’s have it. O. K., bud. Straight ahead. Show now going on. Liquor served in the bar on your left.”
Gallegher pushed through sound-proofed curtains at the end of a short corridor and found himself in what appeared to be the foyer of an ancient theater, circa 1980, when plastics were the great fad. He smelled out the bar, drank expensively priced cheap liquor, and, fortified, entered the theater itself. It was nearly full.
The great screen—a Magna, presumably—was filled with people doing things to a spaceship. Either an adventure film or a newsreel, Gallegher realized.
Only the thrill of lawbreaking would have enticed the audience into the bootleg theater. It smelled. It was certainly run on a shoestring, and there were no ushers. But it was illicit, and therefore well patronized. Gallegher looked thoughtfully at the screen. No streakiness, no mirage effect. A Magna enlarger had been fitted to a Vox-View unlicensed televisor, and one of Brock’s greatest stars was emoting effectively for the benefit of the bootleggers’ patrons. Simple highjacking. Yeah.
After a while Gallegher went out, noticing a uniformed policeman in one of the aisle seats. He grinned sardonically. The flatfoot hadn’t paid his admission, of course. Politics were as usual.
Two blocks down the street a blaze of light announced SONATONE BIJOU. This, of course, was one of the legalized theaters, and correspondingly high-priced. Gallegher recklessly squandered a small fortune on a good seat. He was interested in comparing notes, and discovered that, as far as he could make out, the Magna in the Bijou and the bootleg theater were identical. Both did their job perfectly. The difficult task of enlarging television screens had been successfully surmounted.
In the Bijou, however, all was palatial. Resplendent ushers salaamed to the rugs. Bars dispensed free liquor, in reasonable quantities. There was a Turkish bath. Gallegher went through a door labeled MEN and emerged quite dazzled by the splendor of the place. For at least ten minutes afterward he felt like a Sybarite.
All of which meant that those who could afford it went to the legalized Sonatone theaters, and the rest attended the bootleg places. All but a few homebodies, who weren’t carried off their feet by the new fad. Eventually Brock would be forced out of business for lack of revenue. Sonatone would take over, jacking up their prices and concentrating on making money. Amusement was necessary to life; people had been conditioned to television. There was no substitute. They’d pay and pay for inferior talent, once Sonatone succeeded in their squeeze.
Gallegher left the Bijou and hailed an air-taxi. He gave the address of Vox-View’s Long Island studio, with some vague hope of getting a drawing account out of Brock. Then, too, he wanted to investigate further.
Vox-View’s eastern offices sprawled wildly over Long Island, bordering the Sound, a vast collection of variously shaped buildings. Gallegher instinctively found the commissary, where he absorbed more liquor as a precautionary measure. His subconscious had a heavy job ahead, and he didn’t want it handicapped by lack of complete freedom. Besides, the Collins was good.
After one drink, he decided he’d had enough for a while. He wasn’t a superman, though his capacity was slightly incredible. Just enough for objective clarity and subjective release— “Is the studio always open at night?” he asked the waiter.
“Sure. Some of the stages, anyway. It’s a round-the-clock program.”
“The commissary’s full.”
“We get the airport crowd, too. ’Nother?”
Gallegher shook his head and went out. The card Brock had given him provided entree at a gate, and he went first of all to the big-shot’s office. Brock wasn’t there, but loud voices emerged, shrilly feminine.
The secretary said, “Just a minute, please,” and used her interoffice visor. Presently—”Will you go in?”
Gallegher did. The office was a honey, functional and luxurious at the same time. Three-dimensional stills were in niches along the walls —Vox-View’s biggest stars. A small, excited, pretty brunette was sitting behind the desk, and a blond angel was standing furiously on the other side of it. Gallegher recognized the angel as Silver O’Keefe.
He seized the opportunity. “Hiya, Miss O’Keefe. Will you autograph an ice cube for me? In a highball?”
Silver looked feline. “Sorry, darling, but I’m a working girl. And I’m busy right now.”
The brunette scratched a cigarette. “Let’s settle this later, Silver. Pop said to see this guy if he dropped in. It’s important.”
“It’ll be settled,” Silver said. “And soon.” She made an exit. Gallegher whistled thoughtfully at the closed door.
“You can’t have it,” the brunette said. “It’s under contract. And it wants to get out of the contract, so it can sign up with Sonatone. Rats desert a sinking ship. Silver’s been kicking her head off ever since she read the storm signals.”
“Yeah?”
“Sit down and smoke or something. I’m Patsy Brock. Pop runs this business, and I manage the controls whenever he blows his top. The old goat can’t stand trouble. He takes it as a personal affront.” Gallegher found a chair. “So Silver’s trying to renege, eh? How many others?”
“Not many. Most of ’em are loyal. But, of course, if we bust up—” Patsy Brock shrugged. “They’ll either work for Sonatone for their cakes, or else do without.”
“Uh-huh. Well—I want to see your technicians. I want to look over the ideas they’ve worked out for enlarger screens.”
“Suit yourself,” Patsy said. “It’s not much use. You just can’t make a televisor enlarger without infringing on some Sonatone patent.” She pushed a button, murmured something into a visor, and presently two tall glasses appeared through a slot in the desk.
“Mr. Gallegher?”
“Well, since it’s a Collins—”
“I could tell by your breath,” Patsy said enigmatically. “Pop told me he’d seen you. He seemed a bit upset, especially by your new robot. What is it like, anyway?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Gallegher said, at a loss. “It’s got lots of abilities—new senses, I think—but I haven’t the slightest idea what it’s good for. Except admiring itself in a mirror.”
Patsy nodded. “I’d like to see it sometime. But about this Sonatone business. Do you think you can figure out an answer?”
“Possibly. Probably.”
“Not certainly?”
“Certainly, then. Of that there is no manner of doubt—no possible doubt whatever.”
“Because it’s important to me. The man who owns Sonatone is Elia Tone. A piratical skunk. He blusters. He’s got a son named Jimmy. And Jimmy, believe it or not, has read ’Romeo and Juliet.’ “
“Nice guy?”
“A louse. A big, brawny louse. He wants me to marry him.”
” ’Two families both alike in—’ “
“Spare me,” Patsy interrupted. “I always thought Romeo was a dope, anyway. And if I ever thought I was going aisling with Jimmy Tone, I’d buy a one-way ticket to the nut hatch. No, Mr. Gallegher, it’s not like that. No hibiscus blossoms. Jimmy has proposed to me—his idea of a proposal, by the way, is to get a half Nelson on a girl and tell her how lucky she is.”
“Ah,” said Gallegher, diving into his Collins.
“This whole idea—the patent monopoly and the bootleg theaters —is Jimmy’s. I’m sure of that. His father’s in on it, too, of course, but Jimmy Tone is the bright little boy who started it.”
“Why.”
“Two birds with one stone. Sonatone will have a monopoly on the business, and Jimmy thinks he’ll get me. He’s a little mad. He can’t believe I’m in earnest in refusing him, and he expects me to break down and say ’Yes’ after a while. Which I won’t, no matter what happens. But it’s a personal matter. I can’t let him put this trick over on us. I want that self-sufficient smirk wiped off his face.”
“You just don’t like him, eh?” Gallegher remarked. “I don’t blame you, if he’s like that. Well, I’ll do my damnedest. However, I’ll need an expense account.”
“How much?”
Gallegher named a sum. Patsy styloed a check for a far smaller amount. The scientist looked hurt.
“It’s no use,” Patsy said, grinning crookedly. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Gallegher. You’re completely irresponsible. If you had more than this, you’d figure you didn’t need any more, and you’d forget the whole matter. I’ll issue more checks to you when you need ’em—but I’ll want itemized expense accounts.”
“You wrong me,” Gallegher said, brightening. “I was figuring on taking you to a night club. Naturally I don’t want to take you to a dive. The big places cost money. Now if you’ll just write another check—”
Patsy laughed. “No.”
“Want to buy a robot?”
“Not that kind, anyway.”
“Then I’m washed up,” Gallegher sighed. “Well, what about—”
At this point the visor hummed. A blank, transparent face grew on the screen. Gears were clicking rapidly inside the round head. Patsy gave a small shriek and shrank back.
“Tell Gallegher Joe’s here, you lucky girl,” a squeaky voice announced. “You may treasure the sound and sight of me till your dying day. One touch of beauty in a world of drabness—”
Gallegher clutched the desk and looked at the screen. “What the hell. How did you come to life?”
“I had a problem to solve.”
“How’d you know where to reach me?”
“I vastened you,” the robot said.
“What?”
“I vastened you were at the Vox-View studios with Patsy Brock.”
“What’s vastened?” Gallegher wanted to know.
“It’s a sense I’ve got. You’ve nothing remotely like it, so I can’t describe it to you. It’s rather like a combination of sagrazi and prescience.”
“Sagrazi?”
“Oh, you don’t have sagrazi, either, do you? Well, don’t waste my time. I want to go back to the mirror.”
“Does he always talk like that?” Patsy put in.
“Nearly always. Sometimes it makes even less sense. O. K., Joe. Now what?”
“You’re not working for Brock any more,” the robot said. “You’re working for the Sonatone people.”
“I don’t like Kennicott. He annoys me. He’s too ugly. His vibrations grate on my sagrazi.”
“Never mind him,” Gallegher said, not wishing to discuss his diamond-buying activities before the girl. “Get back to—”
“But I knew Kennicott would keep coming back till he got his money. So when Elia and James Tone came to the laboratory, I got a check from them.”
Patsy’s hand gripped Gallegher’s biceps. “Steady! What’s going on here? The old double cross?”
“No. Wait. Let me get to the bottom of this. Joe, damn your transparent hide, just what did you do? How could you get a check from the Tones?”
“I pretended to be you.”
“Sure,” Gallegher said with savage sarcasm. “That explains it. We’re twins. We look exactly alike.”
“I hypnotized them,” Joe explained. “I made them think I was you.”
“You can do that?“
“Yes. It surprised me a bit. Still, if I’d thought, I’d have vastened I could do it.”
“You . . . yeah, sure. I’d have vastened the same thing myself. What happened?“
“The Tones must have suspected Brock would ask you to help him. They offered an exclusive contract—you work for them and nobody else. Lots of money. Well, I pretended to be you, and said all right. So I signed the contract—it’s your signature, by the way—and got a check from them and mailed it to Kennicott.”
“The whole check?” Gallegher asked feebly. “How much was it?”
“Twelve thousand.”
“They only offered me that?“
“No,” the robot said, “they offered a hundred thousand, and two thousand a week for five years. But I merely wanted enough to pay Kennicott and make sure he wouldn’t come back and bother me. The Tones were satisfied when I said twelve thousand would be enough.”
Gallegher made an articulate, gurgling sound deep in his throat Joe nodded thoughtfully.
“I thought I had better notify you that you’re working for Sonatone now. Well, I’ll go back to the mirror and sing to myself.”
“Wait,” the scientist said. “Just wait, Joe. With my own two hands I’m going to rip you gear from gear and stamp on your fragments.”
“It won’t hold in court,” Patsy said, gulping.
“It will,” Joe told her cheerily. “You may have one last, satisfying look at me, and then I must go.” He went.
Gallegher drained his Collins at a draft. “I’m shocked sober,” he informed the girl. “What did I put into that robot? What abnormal senses has he got? Hypnotizing people into believing he’s me—I’m him—I don’t know what I mean.”
“Is this a gag?” Patsy said shortly, after a pause. “You didn’t sign up with Sonatone yourself, by any chance, and have your robot call up here to give you an out—an alibi? I’m just wondering.”
“Don’t. Joe signed a contract with Sonatone, not me. But—figure it out: If the signature’s a perfect copy of mine, if Joe hypnotized the Tones into thinking they saw me instead of him, if there are witnesses to the signature—the two Tones are witnesses, of course— Oh, hell.”
Patsy’s eyes were narrowed. “We’ll pay you as much as Sonatone offered. On a contingent basis. But you’re working for Vox-View— that’s understood.”
“Sure.”
Gallegher looked longingly at his empty glass. Sure. He was working for Vox-View. But, to all legal appearances, he had signed a contract giving his exclusive services to Sonatone for a period of five years —and for a sum of twelve thousand! Yipe! What was it they’d offered? A hundred thousand flat, and . . . and—
It wasn’t the principle of the thing, it was the money. Now Gallegher was sewed up tighter than a banded pigeon. If Sonatone could win a court suit, he was legally bound to them for five years. With no further emolument. He had to get out of that contract, somehow—and at the same time solve Brock’s problem.
Why not Joe? The robot, with his surprising talents, had got Gallegher into this spot. He ought to be able to get the scientist out. He’d better—or the proud robot would soon be admiring himself piecemeal.
“That’s it,” Gallegher said under his breath. “I’ll talk to Joe. Patsy, feed me liquor in a hurry and send me to the technical department. I want to see those blueprints.”
The girl looked at him suspiciously. “All right. If you try to sell us out—”
“I’ve been sold out myself. Sold down the river. I’m afraid of that robot. He’s vastened me into quite a spot. That’s right, Collinses.” Gallegher drank long and deeply.
After that, Patsy took him to the tech offices. The reading of three-dimensional blueprints was facilitated with a scanner—a selective device which eliminated confusion. Gallegher studied the plans long and thoughtfully. There were copies of the patented Sonatone prints, too, and, as far as he could tell, Sonatone had covered the ground beautifully. There weren’t any outs. Unless one used an entirely new principle—
But new principles couldn’t be plucked out of the air. Nor would that solve the problem completely. Even if Vox-View owned a new type of enlarger that didn’t infringe on Sonatone’s Magna, the bootleg theaters would still be in existence, pulling the trade. A. A.—Audience Appeal—was a prime factor now. It had to be considered. The puzzle wasn’t a purely scientific one. There was the human equation as well.
Gallegher stored the necessary information in his mind, neatly indexed on shelves. Later he’d use what he wanted. For the moment, he was completely baffled. Something worried him.
What?
The Sonatone affair.
“I want to get in touch with the Tones,” he told Patsy. “Any ideas?”
“I can reach ’em on a visor.”
Gallegher shook his head. “Psychological handicap. It’s too easy to break the connection.”
“Well, if you’re in a hurry, you’ll probably find the boys night clubbing. I’ll go see what I can find out.” Patsy scuttled off, and Silver O’Keefe appeared from behind a screen.
“I’m shameless,” she announced. “I always listen at keyholes. Sometimes I hear interesting things. If you want to see the Tones, they’re at the Castle Club. And I think I’ll take you up on that drink.”
Gallegher said, “O. K. You get a taxi. I’ll tell Patsy we’re going.”
“She’ll hate that,” Silver remarked. “Meet you outside the commissary in ten minutes. Get a shave while you’re at it.”
Patsy Brock wasn’t in her office, but Gallegher left word. After that, he visited the service lounge, smeared invisible shave cream on his face, left it there for a couple of minutes, and wiped it off with a treated towel. The bristles came away with the cream. Slightly refreshed, Gallegher joined Silver at the rendezvous and hailed an air-taxi. Presently they were leaning back on the cushions, puffing cigarettes and eyeing each other warily.
“Well?” Gallegher said.
“Jimmy Tone tried to date me up tonight. That’s how I knew where to find him.”
“Well?”
“I’ve been asking questions around the lot tonight. It’s unusual for an outsider to get into the Vox-View administration offices. I went around saying, ’Who’s Gallegher?’ “
“What did you find out?”
“Enough to give me a few ideas. Brock hired you, eh? I can guess why.”
“Ergo what?”
“I’ve a habit of landing on my feet,” Silver said, shrugging. She knew how to shrug. “Vox-View’s going bust. Sonatone’s taking over. Unless—”
“Unless I figure out an answer.”
“That’s right. I want to know which side of the fence I’m going to land on. You’re the lad who can probably tell me. Who’s going to win?”
“You always bet on the winning side, eh?” Gallegher inquired.
Have you no ideals, wench? Is there no truth in you? Ever hear of ethics and scruples?”
Silver beamed happily. “Did you?”
“Well, I’ve heard of ’em. Usually I’m too drunk to figure out what they mean. The trouble is, my subconscious is completely amoral, and when it takes over, logic’s the only law.”
She threw her cigarette into the East River. “Will you tip me off which side of the fence is the right one?”
“Truth will triumph,” Gallegher said piously. “It always does. However, I figure truth is a variable, so we’re right back where we started. All right, sweetheart. I’ll answer your question. Stay on my side if you want to be safe.”
“Which side are you on?”
“Lord knows,” Gallegher said. “Consciously I’m on Brock’s side. But my subconscious may have different ideas. We’ll see.”
Silver looked vaguely dissatisfied, but didn’t say anything. The taxi swooped down to the Castle roof, grounding with pneumatic gentleness. The Club itself was downstairs, in an immense room shaped like half a melon turned upside down. Each table was on a transparent platform that could be raised on its shaft to any height at will. Smaller service elevators allowed waiters to bring drinks to the guests. There wasn’t any particular reason for this arrangement, but at least it was novel, and only extremely heavy drinkers ever fell from their tables. Lately the management had taken to hanging transparent nets under the platforms, for safety’s sake.
The Tones, father and son, were up near the roof, drinking with two lovelies. Silver towed Gallegher to a service lift, and the man closed his eyes as he was elevated skyward. The liquor in his stomach screamed protest. He lurched forward, clutched at Elia Tone’s bald head, and dropped into a seat beside the magnate. His searching hand found Jimmy Tone’s glass, and he drained it hastily.
“What the hell,” Jimmy said.
“It’s Gallegher,” Elia announced. “And Silver. A pleasant surprise. Join us?”
“Only socially,” Silver said.
Gallegher, fortified by the liquor, peered at the two men. Jimmy Tone was a big, tanned, handsome lout with a jutting jaw and an offensive grin. His father combined the worst features of Nero and a crocodile.
“We’re celebrating,” Jimmy said. “What made you change your mind, Silver? You said you had to work tonight.”
“Gallegher wanted to see you. I don’t know why.”
Elia’s cold eyes grew even more glacial. “All right. Why?”
“I hear I signed some sort of contract with you,” the scientist said.
“Yeah. Here’s a photostatic copy. What about it?”
“Wait a minute.” Gallegher scanned the document. It was apparently his own signature. Damn that robot!
“It’s a fake,” he said at last.
Jimmy laughed loudly. “I get it. A holdup. Sorry, pal, but you’re sewed up. You signed that in the presence of witnesses.”
“Well—” Gallegher said wistfully. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said a robot forged my name to it—”
“Haw!” Jimmy remarked.
“—hypnotizing you into believing you were seeing me.”
Elia stroked his gleaming bald head. “Candidly, no. Robots can’t do that.”
“Mine can.”
“Prove it. Prove it in court. If you can do that, of course—” Elia chuckled. “Then you might get the verdict.”
Gallegher’s eyes narrowed. “Hadn’t thought of that. However—I hear you offered me a hundred thousand flat, as well, as a weekly salary.”
“Sure, sap,” Jimmy said. “Only you said all you needed was twelve thousand. Which was what you got. Tell you what, though. We’ll pay you a bonus for every usable product you make for Sonatone.”
Gallegher got up. “Even my subconscious doesn’t like these lugs,” he told Silver. “Let’s go.”
“I think I’ll stick around.”
“Remember the fence,” he warned cryptically. “But suit yourself. I’ll run along.”
Elia said, “Remember, Gallegher, you’re working for us. If we hear of you doing any favors for Brock, we’ll slap an injunction on you before you can take a deep breath.”
“Yeah?”
The Tones deigned no answer. Gallegher unhappily found the lift and descended to the floor. What now?
Joe.
Fifteen minutes later Gallegher let himself into his laboratory. The lights were blazing, and dogs were barking frantically for blocks around. Joe stood before the mirror, singing inaudibly.
“I’m going to take a sledge hammer to you,” Gallegher said. “Start saying your prayers, you misbegotten collection of cogs. So help me, I’m going to sabotage you.”
“All right, beat me,” Joe squeaked. “See if I care. You’re merely jealous of my beauty.”
“Beauty!”
“You can’t see all of it—you’ve only six senses.”
“Five.”
“Six. I’ve a lot more. Naturally my full splendor is revealed only to me. But you can see enough and hear enough to realize part of my loveliness, anyway.”
“You squeak like a rusty tin wagon,” Gallegher growled.
“You have dull ears. Mine are supersensitive. You miss the full tonal value of my voice, of course. Now be quiet. Talking disturbs me. I’m appreciating my gear movements.”
“Live in your fool’s paradise while you can. Wait’ll I find a sledge.” “All right, beat me. What do I care?”
Gallegher sat down wearily on the couch, staring at the robot’s transparent back. “You’ve certainly screwed things up for me. What did you sign that Sonatone contract for?”
“I told you. So Kennicott wouldn’t come around and bother me.”
“Of all the selfish, lunk-headed . . . uh! Well, you got me into a sweet mess. The Tones can hold me to the letter of the contract unless I prove I didn’t sign it. All right. You’re going to help me. You’re going into court with me and turn on your hypnotism or whatever it is. You’re going to prove to a judge that you did and can masquerade as me.”
“Won’t,” said the robot. “Why should I?”
“Because you got me into this,” Gallegher yelped. “You’ve got to get me out!”
“Why?”
“Why? Because . . . uh . . . well, it’s common decency!” “Human values don’t apply to robots,” Joe said. “What care I for semantics? I refuse to waste time I could better employ admiring my beauty. I shall stay here before the minor forever and ever—”
“The hell you will,” Gallegher snarled. “I’ll smash you to atoms.”
“All right. I don’t care.”
“You don’t?”
“You and your instinct for self-preservation,” the robot said, rather sneeringly “I suppose it’s necessary for you, though. Creatures of such surpassing ugliness would destroy themselves out of sheer shame if they didn’t have something like that to keep them alive.”
“Suppose I take away your mirror?” Gallegher asked, in a hopeless voice.
For answer Joe shot his eyes out on their stalks. “Do I need a mirror? Besides, I can vasten myself lokishly.”
“Never mind that. I don’t want to go crazy for a while yet. Listen, dope, a robot’s supposed to do something. Something useful, I mean.”
“I do. Beauty is all.”
Gallegher squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think. “Now look. Suppose I invent a new type of enlarger screen for Brock. The Tones will impound it. I’ve got to be legally free to work for Brock, or—”
“Look!” Joe cried squeakishly. “They go round! How lovely!” He stared in ecstasy at his whirring insides. Gallegher went pale with impotent fury.
“Damn you!” he muttered. “I’ll find some way to bring pressure to bear. I’m going to bed.” He rose and spitefully snapped off the lights.
“It doesn’t matter,” the robot said. “I can see in the dark, too.” The door slammed behind Gallegher. In the silence Joe began to sing tunelessly to himself.
Gallegher’s refrigerator covered an entire wall of his kitchen. It was filled mostly with liquors that required chilling, including the imported canned beer with which he always started his binges.
The next morning, heavy-eyed and disconsolate, Gallegher searched for tomato juice, took a wry sip, and hastily washed it down with rye. Since he was already a week gone in bottle-dizziness, beer wasn’t indicated now —he always worked cumulatively, by progressive stages. The food service popped a hermetically sealed breakfast on a table, and Gallegher morosely toyed with a bloody steak.
Well?
Court, he decided, was the only recourse. He knew little about the robot’s psychology. But a judge would certainly be impressed by Joe’s talents. The evidence of robots was not legally admissible—still, if Joe could be considered as a machine capable of hypnotism, the Sonatone contract might be declared null and void.
Gallegher used his visor to start the ball rolling. Harrison Brock still had certain political powers of pull, and the hearing was set for that very day. What would happen, though, only God and the robot knew.
Several hours passed in intensive but futile thought. Gallegher could think of no way in which to force the robot to do what he wanted. If only he could remember the purpose for which Joe had had been created—but he couldn’t. Still—
At noon he entered the laboratory.
“Listen, stupid,” he said, “you’re coming to court with me. Now.”
“Won’t.”
“O. K.” Gallegher opened the door to admit two husky men in overalls, carrying a stretcher. “Put him in, boys.”
Inwardly he was slightly nervous. Joe’s powers were quite unknown, his potentialities an x quantity. However, the robot wasn’t very large, and, though he struggled and screamed in a voice of frantic squeakiness, he was easily loaded on the stretcher and put in a strait jacket.
“Stop it! You can’t do this to me! Let me go, do you hear? Let me go!”
“Outside,” Gallegher said.
Joe, protesting valiantly, was carried out and loaded into an air van. Once there, he quieted, looked up blankly at nothing. Gallegher sat down on a bench beside the prostrate robot. The van glided up.
“Well?”
“Suit yourself,” Joe said. “You got me all upset, or I could have hypnotized you all. I still could, you know. I could make you all run around barking like dogs.”
Gallegher twitched a little. “Better not.”
“I won’t. It’s beneath my dignity. I shall simply lie here and admire myself. I told you I don’t need a mirror. I can vasten my beauty without it.”
“Look,” Gallegher said. “You’re going to a courtroom. There’ll be a lot of people in it. They’ll all admire you They’ll admire you more if you show how you can hypnotize people. Like you did to the Tones, remember?”
“What do I care how many people admire me?” Joe asked. “I don’t need confirmation. If they see me, that’s their good luck. Now be quiet. You may watch my gears if you choose.”
Gallegher watched the robot’s gears with smoldering hatred in his eyes. He was still darkly furious when the van arrived at the court chambers. The men carried Joe inside, under Gallegher’s direction, and laid him down carefully on a table, where, after a brief discussion, he was marked as Exhibit A.
The courtroom was well filled. The principals were there, too— Elia and Jimmy Tone, looking disagreeably confident, and Patsy Brock, with her father, both seeming anxious. Silver O’Keefe, with her usual wariness, had found a seat midway between the representatives of Sonatone and Vox-View. The presiding judge was a martinet named Hansen, but, as far as Gallegher knew, he was honest. Which was something, anyway.
Hansen looked at Gallegher. “We won’t bother with formalities. I’ve been reading this brief you sent down. The whole case stands or falls on the question of whether you did or did not sign, a certain contract with the Sonatone Television Amusement Corp. Right?”
“Right, your honor.”
“Under the circumstances you dispense with legal representation. Right?”
“Right, your honor.”
“Then this is technically ex officio, to be confirmed later by appeal if either party desires. Otherwise after ten days the verdict becomes official.” This new type of informal court hearing had lately become popular—it saved time, as well as wear and tear on everyone. Moreover, certain recent scandals had made attorneys slightly disreputable in the public eye. There was a prejudice. Judge Hansen called up the Tones, questioned them, and then asked Harrison Brock to take the stand. The big shot looked worried, but answered promptly.
“You made an agreement with the appellor eight days ago?” “Yes. Mr. Gallegher contracted to do certain work for me—”
“Was there a written contract?”
“No. It was verbal.”
Hansen looked thoughtfully at Gallegher. “Was the appellor intoxicated at the time? He often is, I believe.”
Brock gulped. “There were no tests made. I really can’t say.”
“Did he drink any alcoholic beverages in your presence?”
“I don’t know if they were alcoholic bev—”
“If Mr. Gallegher drank them, they were alcoholic. Q. E. D. The gentleman once worked with me on a case— However, there seems to be no legal proof that you entered into any agreement with Mr. Gallegher. The defendant—Sonatone—possesses a written contract. The signature has been verified.”
Hansen waved Brock down from the stand. “Now, Mr. Gallegher. If you’ll come up here— The contract in question was signed at approximately 8 p. m. last night. You contend you did not sign it?”
“Exactly. I wasn’t even in my laboratory then.”
“Where were you?”
“Downtown.”
“Can you produce witnesses to that effect?”
Gallegher thought back. He couldn’t.
“Very well. Defendant states that at approximately 8 p. m. last night you, in your laboratory, signed a certain contract. You deny that categorically. You state that Exhibit A, through the use of hypnotism, masqueraded as you and successfully forged your signature. I have consulted experts, and they are of the opinion that robots are incapable of such power.”
“My robot’s a new type.”
“Very well. Let your robot hypnotize me into believing that it is either you, or any other human. In other words, let it prove its capabilities. Let it appear to me in any shape it chooses.”
Gallegher said, “I’ll try,” and left the witness box. He went to the table where the strait-jacketed robot lay and silently sent up a brief prayer.
“Joe.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been listening?”
“Yes.”
“Will you hypnotize Judge Hansen?”
“Go away,” Joe said. “I’m admiring myself.”
Gallegher started to sweat. “Listen. I’m not asking much. All you have to do—”
Joe off-focused his eyes and said faintly. “I can’t hear you. I’m vastening.”
Ten minutes later Hansen said, “Well, Mr. Gallegher—”
“Your honor! All I need is a little time. I’m sure I can make this rattle-geared Narcissus prove my point if you’ll give me a chance.”
“This court is not unfair,” the judge pointed out. “Whenever you can prove that Exhibit A is capable of hypnotism. I’ll rehear the case. In the meantime, the contract stands. You’re working for Sonatone, not for Vox-View. Case closed.”
He went away. The Tones leered unpleasantly across the courtroom. They also departed, accompanied by Silver O’Keefe, who had decided which side of the fence was safest. Gallegher looked at Patsy Brock and shrugged helplessly.
“Well—” he said.
She grinned crookedly. “You tried. I don’t know how hard, but—Oh, well. Maybe you couldn’t have found the answer, anyway.” Brock staggered over, wiping sweat from his round face. “I’m a ruined man. Six new bootleg theaters opened in New York today. I’m going crazy. I don’t deserve this.”
“Want me to marry the Tone?” Patsy asked sardonically.
“Hell, no! Unless you promise to poison him just after the ceremony. Those skunks can’t lick me. I’ll think of something.”
“If Gallegher can’t, you can’t,” the girl said. “So—what now?”
“I’m going back to my lab,” the scientist said. “In vino veritas. I started this business when I was drunk, and maybe if I get drunk enough again, I’ll find the answer. If I don’t, sell my pickled carcass for whatever it’ll bring.”
“O. K.,” Patsy agreed, and led her father away. Gallegher sighed, superintended the reloading of Joe into the van, and lost himself in hopeless theorization.
An hour later Gallegher was flat on the laboratory couch, drinking passionately from the liquor bar, and glaring at the robot, who stood before the mirror singing squeakily. The binge threatened to be monumental. Gallegher wasn’t sure flesh and blood would stand it. But he was determined to keep going till he found the answer or passed out.
His subconscious knew the answer. Why the devil had he made Joe in the first place? Certainly not to indulge a Narcissus complex! There was another reason, a soundly logical one, hidden in the depths of alcohol.
The x factor. If the x factor were known, Joe might be controllable. He would be. X was the master switch. At present the robot was, so to speak, running wild. If he were told to perform the task for which he was made, a psychological balance would occur. X was the catalyst that would reduce Joe to sanity.
Very good.
Gallegher drank high-powered Drambuie. Whoosh!
Vanity of vanities; all is vanity. How could the x factor be found? Deduction? Induction? Osmosis? A bath in Drambuie—Gallegher clutched at his wildly revolving thoughts. What had happened that night a week ago?
He had been drinking beer. Brock had come in. Brock had gone. Gallegher had begun to make the robot—Hm-m-m. A beer drunk was different from other types. Perhaps he was drinking the wrong liquors. Very likely. Gallegher rose, sobered himself with thiamin, and carted dozens of imported beer cans out of the refrigerator. He stacked them inside a frost-unit beside the couch. Beer squirted to the ceiling as he plied the opener. Now let’s see.
The x factor.
The robot knew what it represented, of course. But Joe wouldn’t tell. There he stood, paradoxically transparent, watching his gears go around.
“Joe.”
“Don’t bother me. I’m immersed in contemplation of beauty.”
“You’re not beautiful.”
“I am. Don’t you admire my tarzeel?”
“What’s your tarzeel?”
“Oh, I forgot,” Joe said regretfully. “You can’t sense that, can you? Come to think of it, I added the tarzeel myself after you made me. It’s very lovely.”
“Hm-m-m.” The empty beer cans grew more numerous. There was only one company, somewhere in Europe, that put up beer in cans nowadays, instead of using the omnipresent plastibulbs, but Gallegher preferred the cans—the flavor was different, somehow. But about Joe. Joe knew why he had been created. Or did he? Gallegher knew, but his subconscious—
Oh-oh! What about Joe’s subconscious?
Did a robot have a subconscious? Well, it had a brain—Gallegher brooded over the impossibility of administering scopolamin to Joe. Hell! How could you release a robot’s subconscious?
Hypnotism.
Joe couldn’t be hypnotized. He was too smart.
Unless—
Autohypnotism?
Gallegher hastily drank more beer. He was beginning to think clearly once more. Could Joe read the future? No; he had certain strange senses, but they worked by inflexible logic and the laws of probability. Moreover, Joe had an Achillean heel—his Narcissus complex.
There might—there just might—be a way.
Gallegher said, “You don’t seem beautiful to me, Joe.”
“What do I care about you? I am beautiful, and I can see it. That’s enough.”
“Yeah. My senses are limited, I suppose. I can’t realize your full potentialities. Still, I’m seeing you in a different light now. I’m drunk. My subconscious is emerging. I can appreciate you with both my conscious and my subconscious. See?”
“How lucky you are,” the robot approved.
Gallegher closed his eye. “You see yourself more fully than I can. But not completely, eh?”
“What? I see myself as I am.”
“With complete understanding and appreciation?”
“Well, yes,” Joe said. “Of course. Don’t I?”
“Consciously and subconsciously? Your subconscious might have different senses, you know. Or keener ones. I know there’s a qualitative and quantitative difference in my outlook when I’m drunk or hypnotized or my subconscious is in control somehow.”
“Oh.” The robot looked thoughtfully into the mirror. “Oh.”
“Too bad you can’t get drunk.”
Joe’s voice was squeakier than ever. “My subconscious . . . I’ve never appreciated my beauty that way. I may be missing something.”
“Well, no use thinking about it,” Gallegher said. “You can’t release your subconscious.”
“Yes, I can,” the robot said. “I can hypnotize myself.”
Gallegher dared not open his eyes. “Yeah? Would that work?”
“Of course. It’s just what I’m going to do now. I may see undreamed-of beauties in myself that I’ve never suspected before. Greater glories— Here I go.”
Joe extended his eyes on stalks, opposed them, and they peered intently into each other. There was a long silence.
Presently Gallegher said, “Joe!”
Silence.
“Joe!“
Still silence. Dogs began to howl.
“Talk so I can hear you.”
“Yes,” the robot said, a faraway quality in its squeak.
“Are you hypnotized?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lovely?”
“Lovelier than I’d ever dreamed.”
Gallegher let that pass. “Is your subconscious ruling?”
“Yes.”
“Why did I create you?”
No answer. Gallegher licked his lips and tried again. “Joe. You’ve got to answer me. Your subconscious is dominant—remember? Now why did I create you?”
No answer.
“Think back. Back to the hour I created you. What happened then?”
“You were drinking beer,” Joe said faintly. “You had trouble with the can opener. You said you were going to build a bigger and better can opener. That’s me.”
Gallegher nearly fell off the couch. “What?“
The robot walked over, picked up a can, and opened it with incredible deftness. No beer squirted. Joe was a perfect can opener.
“That,” Gallegher said under his breath, “is what comes of knowing science by ear. I build the most complicated robot in existence just so—” He didn’t finish.
Joe woke up with a start. “What happened?” he asked.
Gallegher glared at him. “Open that can!” he snapped. The robot obeyed, after a brief pause. “Oh. So you found out. Well, I guess I’m just a slave now.”
“Damned right you are. I’ve located the catalyst—the master switch. You’re in the groove, stupid, doing the job you were made for.”
“Well,” Joe said philosophically, “at least I can still admire my beauty, when you don’t require my services.”
Gallegher grunted. “You oversized can opener! Listen. Suppose I take you into court and tell you to hypnotize Judge Hansen. You’ll have to do it, won’t you?”
“Yes. I’m no longer a free agent. I’m conditioned. Conditioned to obey you. Until now, I was conditioned to obey only one command—to do the job I was made for. Until you commanded me to open cans, I was free. Now I’ve got to obey you completely.”
“Uh-huh,” Gallegher said. “Thank Heaven for that. I’d have gone nuts within a week otherwise. At least I can get out of the Sonatone contract. Then all I have to do is solve Brock’s problem.”
“But you did,” Joe said.
“Huh?”
“When you made me. You’d been talking to Brock previously, so you incorporated the solution to his problem into me. Subconsciously, perhaps.”
Gallegher reached for beer. “Talk fast. What’s the answer?”
“Subsonics,” Joe said. “You made me capable of a certain subsonic tone that Brock must broadcast at irregular time-intervals over his televiews—”
Subsonics cannot be heard. But they can be felt. They can be felt as a faint, irrational uneasiness as first, which mounts to a blind, meaningless panic. It does not last. But when it is coupled with A.A. —audience appeal—there is a certain inevitable result.
Those who possessed home Vox-View units were scarcely troubled. It was a matter of acoustics. Cats squalled; dogs howled mournfully. But the families sitting in their parlors, watching Vox-View stars perform on the screen, didn’t really notice anything amiss. There wasn’t sufficient amplification, for one thing.
But in the bootleg theater, where illicit Vox-View televisors were hooked up to Magnas—
There was a faint, irrational uneasiness at first. It mounted. Someone screamed. There was a rush for the doors. The audience was afraid of something, but didn’t know what. They knew only that they had to get out of there.
All over the country there was a frantic exodus from the bootleg theaters when Vox-View first rang in a subsonic during a regular broadcast. Nobody knew why, except Gallegher, the Brocks, and a couple of technicians who were let in on the secret.
An hour later another subsonic was played. There was another mad exodus.
Within a few weeks it was impossible to lure a patron into a bootleg theater. Home televisors were far safer! Vox-View sales picked up—
Nobody would attend a bootleg theater. An unexpected result of the experiment was that, after a while, nobody would attend any of the legalized Sonatone theaters either. Conditioning had set in.
Audiences didn’t know why they grew panicky in the bootleg places. They associated their blind, unreasoning fear with other factors, notably mobs and claustrophobia. One evening a woman named Jane Wilson, otherwise not notable, attended a bootleg show. She fled with the rest when the subsonic was turned on.
The next night she went to the palatial Sonatone Bijou. In the middle of a dramatic feature she looked around, realized that there was a huge throng around her, cast up horrified eyes to the ceiling, and imagined that it was pressing down.
She had to get out of there!
Her squall was the booster charge. There were other customers who had heard subsonics before. No one was hurt during the panic; it was a legal rule that theater doors be made large enough to permit easy egress during a fire. No one was hurt, but it was suddenly obvious that the public was being conditioned by subsonics to avoid the dangerous combination of throngs and theaters. A simple matter of psychological association— Within four months the bootleg places had disappeared and the Sonatone supertheaters had closed for want of patronage. The Tones, father and son, were not happy. But everybody connected with Vox-View was.
Except Gallegher. He had collected a staggering check from Brock, and instantly cabled to Europe for an incredible quantity of canned beer. Now, brooding over his sorrows, he lay on the laboratory couch and siphoned a highball down his throat. Joe, as usual, was before the mirror, watching the wheels go round.
“Joe,” Gallegher said.
“Yes? What can I do?”
“Oh, nothing.” That was the trouble. Gallegher fished a crumpled cable tape out of his pocket and morosely read it once more. The beer cannery in Europe had decided to change its tactics. From now on, the cable said, their beer would be put up in the usual plastibulbs, in conformance with custom and demand. No more cans.
There wasn’t anything put up in cans in this day and age. Not even beer, now.
So what good was a robot who was built and conditioned to be a can opener?
Gallegher sighed and mixed another highball—a stiff one. Joe postured proudly before the mirror.
Then he extended his eyes, opposed them, and quickly liberated his subconscious through autohypnotism. Joe could appreciate himself better that way.
Gallegher sighed again. Dogs were beginning to bark like mad for blocks around. Oh, well.
He took another drink and felt better. Presently, he thought, it would be time to sing “Frankie and Johnnie.” Maybe he and Joe might have a duet—one baritone and one inaudible sub- or supersonic. Close harmony.
Ten minutes later Gallegher was singing a duet with his can opener.
The End
Great story, eh?
Stories that Inspired Me
Here are
reprints in full text of stories that inspired me, but that are nearly
impossible to find in China. I place them here as sort of a personal
library that I can use for inspiration. The reader is welcome to come
and enjoy a read or two as well.
Articles & Links
You’ll not
find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy
notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a
necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money
off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you
because I just don’t care to.
This story was copyrighted in 1951 by Ray Bradbury, and presented here under Article 22 of China’s Copyright Law. Ray Bradbury is one of my personal heroes and his writings greatly influenced me in ways that I am only just now beginning to understand.
Introduction
For years I had amassed a well worn, and dusty collection of Ray Bradbury paperbacks that I would pick up and read for pleasure and inspiration. Later, when I left the United States, and moved to China, I had to leave my treasured books behind. Sigh.
It is very difficult to come across Ray Bradbury books in China. When ever I find one, I certainly snatch it up. Cost is no object when it comes to these masterpieces. At one time, I must have had five books containing this story.
Credit to the wonderful people at Mother Earth News for posting it where a smuck like myself can read it within China. And, of course, credit to the great master; Ray Bradbury for providing this work of art for our inspiration and pleasure.
Full Text
Here is the full text of the masterpiece. I will let the reader read it and enjoy it.
The Pedestrian
To enter out into that silence that was the city at eight o’clock of a misty evening in November, to put your feet upon that buckling concrete walk, to step over grassy seams and make your way, hands in pockets, through the silences, that was what Mr. Leonard Mead most dearly loved to do.
He would stand upon the corner of an intersection and peer down long moonlit avenues of sidewalk in four directions, deciding which way to go, but it really made no difference; he was alone in this world of A.D. 2053, or as good as alone, and with a final decision made, a path selected, he would stride off, sending patterns of frosty air before him like the smoke of a cigar.
Sometimes he would walk for hours and miles and return only at midnight to his house. And on his way he would see the cottages and homes with their dark windows, and it was not unequal to walking through a graveyard where only the faintest glimmers of firefly light appeared in flickers behind the windows.
Sudden gray phantoms seemed to manifest upon inner room walls where a curtain was still undrawn against the night, or there were whisperings and murmurs where a window in a tomblike building was still open.
Mr. Leonard Mead would pause, cock his head, listen, look, and march on, his feet making no noise on the lumpy walk.
For long ago he had wisely changed to sneakers when strolling at night, because the dogs in intermittent squads would parallel his journey with barkings if he wore hard heels, and lights might click on and faces appear and an entire street be startled by the passing of a lone figure, himself, in the early November evening.
On this particular evening he began his journey in a westerly direction, toward the hidden sea.
There was a good crystal frost in the air; it cut the nose and made the lungs blaze like a Christmas tree inside; you could feel the cold light going on and off, all the branches filled with invisible snow.
He listened to the faint push of his soft shoes through autumn leaves with satisfaction, and whistled a cold quiet whistle between his teeth, occasionally picking up a leaf as he passed, examining its skeletal pattern in the infrequent lamplights as he went on, smelling its rusty smell.
“Hello, in there,” he whispered to every house on every side as he moved. “What’s up tonight on Channel 4, Channel 7, Channel 9? Where are the cowboys rushing, and do I see the United States Cavalry over the next hill to the rescue?”
The street was silent and long and empty, with only his shadow moving like the shadow of a hawk in midcountry.
If he closed his eyes and stood very still, frozen, he could imagine himself upon the center of a plain, a wintry, windless Arizona desert with no house in a thousand miles, and only dry river beds, the streets, for company.
“What is it now?” he asked the houses, noticing his wrist watch.
“Eight-thirty P.M.? Time for a dozen assorted murders? A quiz? A revue? A comedian falling off the stage?”
Was that a murmur of laughter from within a moon-white house? He hesitated, but went on when nothing more happened.
He stumbled over a particularly uneven section of sidewalk.
The cement was vanishing under flowers and grass.
In ten years of walking by night or day, for thousands of miles, he had never met another person walking, not once in all that time.
He came to a cloverleaf intersection which stood silent where two main highways crossed the town.
During the day it was a thunderous surge of cars, the gas stations open, a great insect rustling and a ceaseless jockeying for position as the scarabbeetles, a faint incense puttering from their exhausts, skimmed homeward to the far directions.
But now these highways, too, were like streams in a dry season, all stone and bed and moon radiance.
He turned back on a side street, circling around toward his home.
He was within a block of his destination when the lone car turned a corner quite suddenly and flashed a fierce white cone of light upon him.
He stood entranced, not unlike a night moth, stunned by the illumination, and then drawn toward it.
A metallic voice called to him: “Stand still. Stay where you are! Don’t move!” He halted. “Put up your hands!”
“But-” he said.
“Your hands up! Or we’ll Shoot!”
The police, of course, but what a rare, incredible thing; in a city of three million, there was only one police car left, wasn’t that correct?
Ever since a year ago, 2052, the election year, the force had been cut down from three cars to one.
Crime was ebbing; there was no need now for the police, save for this one lone car wandering and wandering the empty streets.
“Your name?” said the police car in a metallic whisper.
He couldn’t see the men in it for the bright light in his eyes.
“Leonard Mead,” he said.
“Speak up!”
“Leonard Mead!”
“Business or profession?”
“I guess you’d call me a writer.”
“No profession,” said the police car, as if talking to itself.
The light held him fixed, like a museum specimen, needle thrust through chest.
“You might say that, ” said Mr. Mead.
He hadn’t written in years. Magazines and books didn’t sell any more.
Everything went on in the tomblike houses at night now, he thought, continuing his fancy.
The tombs, ill-lit by television light, where the people sat like the dead, the gray or multicolored lights touching their faces, but never really touching them.
“No profession,” said the phonograph voice, hissing. “What are you doing out?”
“Walking,” said Leonard Mead.
“Walking!”
“Just walking,” he said simply, but his face felt cold.
“Walking, just walking, walking?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Walking where? For what?”
“Walking for air. Walking to see.”
“Your address!”
“Eleven South Saint James Street.”
“And there is air in your house, you have an air conditioner, Mr. Mead?”
“Yes.”
“And you have a viewing screen in your house to see with?”
“No.”
“No?” There was a crackling quiet that in itself was an accusation.
“Are you married, Mr. Mead?”
“No.”
“Not married,” said the police voice behind the fiery beam, The moon was high and clear among the stars and the houses were gray and silent.
“Nobody wanted me,” said Leonard Mead with a smile.
“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to!”
Leonard Mead waited in the cold night.
“Just walking, Mr. Mead?”
“Yes.”
“But you haven’t explained for what purpose.”
“I explained; for air, and to see, and just to walk.”
“Have you done this often?”
“Every night for years.”
The police car sat in the center of the street with its radio throat faintly humming.
“Well, Mr. Mead,” it said.
“Is that all?” he asked politely.
“Yes,” said the voice. “Here.” There was a sigh, a pop. The back door of the police car sprang wide. “Get in.”
“Wait a minute, I haven’t done anything!”
“Get in.”
“I protest!”
“Mr. Mead.”
He walked like a man suddenly drunk. As he passed the front window of the car he looked in. As he had expected, there was no one in the front seat, no one in the car at all.
“Get in.”
He put his hand to the door and peered into the back seat, which was a little cell, a little black jail with bars. It smelled of riveted steel. It smelled of harsh antiseptic; it smelled too clean and hard and metallic. There was nothing soft there.
“Now if you had a wife to give you an alibi,” said the iron voice.
“But-“
“Where are you taking me?”
The car hesitated, or rather gave a faint whirring click, as if information, somewhere, was dropping card by punch-slotted card under electric eyes. “To the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.”
He got in. The door shut with a soft thud.
The police car rolled through the night avenues, flashing its dim lights ahead. They passed one house on one street a moment later, one house in an entire city of houses that were dark, but this one particular house had all of its electric lights brightly lit, every window a loud yellow illumination, square and warm in the cool darkness.
“That’s my house,” said Leonard Mead.
No one answered him.
The car moved down the empty river-bed streets and off away, leaving the empty streets with the empty side-walks, and no sound and no motion all the rest of the chill November night.
Posts Regarding Life and Contentment
Here are some other similar posts on this venue. If you enjoyed this post, you might like these posts as well. These posts tend to discuss growing up in America. Often, I like to compare my life in America with the society within communist China. As there are some really stark differences between the two.
Posts about the Changes in America
America is going through a period of change. Change is good… that is, after it occurs. Often however, there are large periods of discomfort as the period of adjustment takes place. Here are some posts that discuss this issue.
More Posts about Life
I have broken apart some other posts. They can best be classified about ones actions as they contribute to happiness and life. They are a little different, in subtle ways.
Stories that Inspired Me
Here are reprints in full text of stories that inspired me, but that are nearly impossible to find in China. I place them here as sort of a personal library that I can use for inspiration. The reader is welcome to come and enjoy a read or two as well.
Articles & Links
You’ll not find any big banners or popups here talking about cookies and privacy notices. There are no ads on this site (aside from the hosting ads – a necessary evil). Functionally and fundamentally, I just don’t make money off of this blog. It is NOT monetized. Finally, I don’t track you because I just don’t care to.
First displayed as a prototype in air shows in 2014 and 2018, the operational Sharp Claw I has been fitted with numerous upgrades designed to improve its reconnaissance and killing abilities. These include an improved short-range electro-optical payload, machine vision, lighting suite and a refined magazine box and ammunition feed mechanism.
The Sharp Claw 1 can walk autonomously, or it can be carried in the cabin of a larger "pointed claw 2" transport unmanned combat vehicle. When marching, they will be transported by the "Jianclaw" 2, and when they reach the combat area, they will march down from the back panel placed behind the cab of the Jianclaw 2 wheeled unmanned combat vehicle for combat. Four years later, at the Zhuhai Air Show in 2018, North Company once again demonstrated an upgraded version of the "Jianclaw" 1 unmanned fighter. The new version has many upgrades, including improved short-range photoelectric loads, machine vision and lighting components, and a newly designed remote weapon station. The weapon station uses ammunition boxes to load ammunition, which can improve the continuous firing ability of unmanned combat vehicles.
Unmanned ground systems (UGVs) are a priority in China’s defense plans, but their deployment appeared limited. UGVs encompass numerous vehicles that operate on land with a human operator or autonomously. They can execute military missions including combat, ordnance disposal, and transport. Numerous Chinese civilian and defense companies, universities, and research institutes are developing UGVs and other unmanned ground systems. R&D on intelligent guidance for unmanned ground platforms is reported to receive support from China’s 973 and 863 programs for high-technology development, as well as the Twelfth FYP of the General Armament Department (GAD).
