Walking my Siberian Husky in town as a young boy

When I was a young boy, say around 3rd grade, my parents bought me a dog. She was a Siberian Husky named Belle. She was a good dog.

At the time, I didn’t know it, but I was more of a cat person than a dog person, but still I loved that dog and we would go and take walks out together.

Being a husky, that dog would pull me everywhere. There was no way that any of my younger siblings or sisters could walk the dog because she was so strong. So it fell on my shoulders to walk the dog, and my father, as always would say “you’re the big brother; you have the responsibility to walk the dog”.

And so in that small down, I would walk the dog, when in actuality it would be a walking me. And as such I became a fixture in that town… and the butt of many jokes.

I never gave it much thought. I guess that I was too young.

Or, perhaps it was the Western Pennsylvania culture; to “razz” and to give young boys a dish-load of “shit” to turn them into men. Or, perhaps they were all just simply assholes.

In hindsight, and from living in different cultures, I see today just how absolutely fucked up the American culture is.

When you take something innocent; a boy walking his dog” and turn it into a reoccurring town joke… that’s just evil, cruel and mean.

Is that the American culture?

Being evil, cruel and mean?

I don’t know, but one thing I do know is that “jazzin” your friends is quite different than from being the “town joke”.

And unless stopped, those (more idiotic in the crowd) don’t learn about fences and boundaries. And they fail, and fail to learn up until they are big boys and girls” and become offensive to the wrong person at the wrong time.

I’m learning so much.

So late.

Today…

Do American tourists really stand out when they visit the UK?

Not the UK but I’m a Brit so I feel I can add to this.

The location was Auschwitz Poland. On a guided tour my wife and I had the misfortune to be accompanied by a group of Americans. I will be honest, I cried for pretty much the whole tour. I’m generally not that emotional but it truly is that moving and traumatic a place to visit. The group of Americans laughed and joked for pretty much the whole time, even in the last remaining gas chamber. They even posed for selfies outside the cattle car that transported people to their deaths. One was collecting soil from around a pond that contained the ashes of countless people and putting it in his pocket. I’m not a violent man but my wife had to restrain me on a couple of occasions. They were so bad that I was almost driven to violence in a place that had already seen far too much.

I’m sure there must have been other Americans there who showed respect but this particular group were truly the most awful, disrespectful bunch of odious cunts (I know this word upsets some people but I honestly couldn’t come up with a better one to describe them) I have ever had the misfortune to encounter.

Why do Americans on Xiaohongshu start replying to a Chinese named“Li Hua” ？

What has made Russia and North Korea such popular countries worldwide today? Is it their bravery, their culture, or their gorgeous, hot men?

They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid

Sokolniki Park in northern Moscow, Russia has been traditionally a place where older people like to hang out. By the main entrance next to the large rotunda, elderlies and everyone else are invited every evening to dance.

There aren’t many men left alive, and when a slow song is played on the stereo, you see widows, single women, and divorcees dance alone. It’s a truly sad sight. This country has been at war for so long with foreign and internal enemies that most of the women spend their declining years without a spouse by their side.

With the ongoing war in Ukraine, the situation will be exactly the same for the next generation of women. They do not understand it yet and think in terms of husband’s wages and social benefits.

Husbands who do return alive suffer from PTSD and wounds and their lifespan has already been cut by several years or decades. And so these women too will dance alone in the park and pretend that they have spouses holding them close and whisper words of love and devotion.

Half of the surveyed Russians say that they feel they have been successful in life. It’s all about what a person FEELS and rather than what he KNOWS or the facts at his disposal that influences his actions.

Speaking of feelings. Sociologist Igor Eidman unlike his colleagues had predicted that Russian economy would NOT collapse and Putin’s regime would NOT be dismantled by disgruntled oligarchs nor a popular revolt.

He is skeptical about Trump being able to achieve peace in Ukraine in the next one hundred days. He claims that “it’s not about vague threats from Trump, but about the fact that Putin, as we know, never does anything under open pressure, so as not to show his weakness, which Trump directly hints at. So now Putin will definitely not go along with Trump’s wishes. Don’t expect any deal in the near future, and negotiations about it are highly questionable.”

And so more Russian and Ukrainian women will dance alone.

Why don’t we just have giant fans at the end of 100 foot runways for planes landing?

A 737 lands about 150 mph. So you have this large aircraft — which can be 138 feet long depending on the model of the 737, suddenly enter this blast of fan-produced air which will slow its ground speed to zero. Except it’s too long to fit on the 100 foot runway — let’s make it a 200 foot runway.

You would have to precisely have the fan-produced wind be broad enough to affect all the plane’s wing lift surfaces (117 foot wingspan, 41 foot high tail), and then you theoretically you could land in 200 feet. But if there’s a mistake the plane drops out of the sky before the runway, and may overrun the runway and collide with your giant fans.

Then, of course, you need taxiways and a conventional runway for takeoff.

What happens if a person who orders pizza takes the pizza and refuses to pay?

Oh boy! Do I have a story for you!

This happened literally last week. I work at a small Pizza Hut, and I got a delivery to a person that shall remain nameless.

The first thing you should know is that delivery drivers always remember you. We remember if you areally a great tipper or a cheap guy, and we gossip amongst each other.

Anyways, I showed up to this guy’s house. He had a reputation in our store for being a bit of an asshole, so I was already wary. When he answered the door, he tried to pay with a hundred. We’re not allowed to take payment in hundreds, so I refused to take it. He argued with me for a moment, but then closed the door, cursing. After a moment, he opened the door and said that he had $30 (his bill was $26.99). At this point, I just took him for his word and took the money without counting it.

He only gave me $20.

I was on the hook for the other $7. I reported him to my manager, and she flagged him in our database. We won’t deliver to him anymore. If he wants pizza, he can come in and pick it up.

Why China is racing ahead in AI, and in everything else: their whole economy is open source

What was your first combat experience as a Marine?

Joined after 9/11, really knew nothing about the USMC or what I was getting into but since everybody else was joining to go fight in Afghanistan, I figured it was my time to do my part.

Iraq literally kicked off two weeks after I joined lol. Talk about timing. Went through boot camp and all the other training and was stationed with an infantry unit at Pendleton. As soon as I got to my unit, they told me we were leaving for Iraq. Yes, we were all scared. We may not have acted like it but we were.

We flew from Kuwait into Iraq and we’re staying in some tents at an air base temporarily until a helicopter could come out and fly us to the Western part of Iraq.

I’m laying down listening to some music with headphones on and next thing I know, my staff sergeant comes over, grabs a hold of me, tells me to get my s*** on and head to the berm. If you don’t know what a berm is, it’s basically just a big pile of sand.

I grabbed my rifle, my flak jacket and my helmet and I take off running with all the other marines. I look up in the sky and mortars are flying down all around us. It’s one of those moments where you realize that all the training in the world is not going to save you from this. If one hits you, it’s over. It was six mortars in total but when it’s happening, it feels like 100. You don’t know when they’re going to stop and where they’re going to land.

KEEP IN MIND THIS WAS MY FIRST DAY IN IRAQ.

Throughout the remainder of that deployment, my platoon hits 7 IEDs. Two of those went off on my vehicle. We got in numerous different engagements and the base was mortared continuously. For those you guys that went to Iraq later, we did not have CRAMs back then. Mortar fire was a serious thing.

I’m not going to lie to you man, I was a pretty motivated and hardcore Marine prior to that deployment. After that, I never want to go to war again. It did not make me tougher. It made me weaker. Guys in my unit got killed, I saw a lot of innocent civilians get killed and I don’t want any young man to have to go through that.

I ended up deploying to Iraq for a second tour but it was completely different. Didn’t hit a single IED and only fired my rifle one time at an Iraqi guy that did not stop at our checkpoint. That was it.

Vietnam was probably the same way but depending on when you were over there and what part of the country you’re in, your experience is going to be completely different. I know Marines that sat on a base and did nothing their whole deployment and I know other Marines who had the fight for their life in a different part of the country.

You’ll often hear people say that vets don’t like to talk about that stuff. It doesn’t bother me to talk about it. It bothers me because I lived it. Talking about it doesn’t necessarily make it better or worse. Thinking about it does. And yes, PTSD is a real thing. It’s not like the movies. For me, it’s just a constant state of anxiety and fear related to having to spend 7 months in a place where you’re constantly getting bombarded by mortars and IEDs. We all have a safety net when we haven’t had much to fear in life. When you go through something like that, that safety net is gone.

Does the rapid rise in China’s robot manufacturing mean that China wants to keep all manufacturing jobs in China, with fewer new factories in India, Vietnam, and other countries?

No, that’s not the goal.

In fact, China lost tens of millions jobs in the last decade, with the migrant labor particularly hard hit, especially those past 40.

Nowhere is this more apparent than China’s live births, which has cratered while India enjoys its day as the demographic dividend king heading towards a 1.7b peak.

The low skilled jobs left china due to the reverse Plaza accord, as the rest of the third world devalued massively relative to the yuan, taking the yen’s lead. China was threatened with currency manipulation designation by the US Treasury to keep the yuan strong. As the forex Shockwave wore off, Donald upped the ante with illegal tariffs which escalated into widespread sanctions and a tech war under Joe.

Today, if one is looking for low cost, stable production, there are plenty of options offering tax breaks, utilities discount, infrastructure subsidies and help with red tape. These are mostly products with year-round demand that are labor intensive but low-skill.

As it turns out, China is taking advantage of the wage arbitrage to import these items for the domestic market. A strong yuan brings its own bonanza, as Chinese factories set up shop overseas to extend the life of traditional business models.

Now, where do the Chinese reinvent themselves in the low-price goods segments?

One avenue is to specialize in fulfilling time sensitive or seasonal demand, such as election campaigns and Christmas ornaments. If one needs a big order of say MAGA hats and posters tomorrow (I exaggerate), all it takes is a phone call to a Chinese agent who can scrounge up the spare capacity in a dozen Chinese factories and arrange consolidated shipping on FOB terms for guaranteed delivery within say, 45 days. Best thing is, he doesn’t ask for an arm and leg, with the rush order premium reasonable.

Cost aside, one will be hard pressed to find similar terms quoted elsewhere.

The Chinese are driving incredibly hard bargains, so hard in fact the competition is being squeezed out.

In the domestic market, the Chinese survive by offering variety on a whole new level, or deliver lux/premium offerings at mass market prices. This is often married with a vertically integrated eco-system from raw materials/labor to marketing/final mile delivery, such as temu and shein. The manufacturing model resembles a beehive in the form of cooperative small batch production directed by an AI-driven market-demand manager.

China makes the hard money in order to survive.

If we delve deeper into automation, ai and machine learning has revolutionized manufacturing. Processes that were considered beyond robots just 2 decades ago are now routine.

Rather than say, hire 100,000 workers to assemble phones, a factory today may hire less than a thousand engineers and technicians to operate a light-free facility that churns out defect-free devices at astonishing speeds with amazing consistency.

The above isn’t science fiction. Such factories already exist, and more are being built.

The advantage of automation is the ease of scaling. Shutting down a line can affect 10,000 workers in the traditional labor-intensive model. But it is a matter of engineers turning off machines in the automated factory. Similarly, scale-up is limited by materials logistics rather than labor.

Automation helps China stay relevant in the new world of business.

I can go on but this will suffice for now.

Pronto Pasta Bake

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients

12 ounces Rotini pasta, uncooked
2 medium zucchini, coarsely chopped (about 2 cups)
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 (48 ounce) jar spaghetti sauce
1 teaspoon dried basil leaves
2 ounces (1/2 cup) fresh Parmesan cheese, grated
2 cups (8 ounces) shredded mozzarella cheese

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Cook pasta according to package directions; drain.
Chop zucchini with food chopper. Using garlic press, press garlic into classic 2-quart batter bowl. Add zucchini, spaghetti sauce and basil.
Grate Parmesan cheese with Deluxe Cheese grater.
In 9 x 13 inch baker, layer one third of the spaghetti sauce mixture, half the pasta, one third of the sauce mixture and half of each of the cheeses. Repeat layers with remaining pasta, sauce and cheeses; cover with aluminum foil.
Bake 45 minutes.
Uncover and continue baking 5 minutes.
Serve with toasted garlic bread if desired.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

My Secret Life

Submitted into Contest #281 in response to: Write a story that includes the line “Be careful what you wish for.”… view prompt

Alan Hancock

My Secret Life Alan Hancock 2024

2,660 wds

When I put this story together I was wondering where to start. And I thought, let’s start at the beginning, a long time ago in another place a very long way from here.

So, to start from the beginning. When I was a boy I loved stories about people who had a secret. Some of them were true stories and some were made up. But it didn’t make any difference to me. They were all just as good, as long as they had a secret.

I read this story about a gang of kids who called themselves the Secret Seven. They formed this kind of junior secret society, a kiddie vigilante group who went round helping the police catch criminals. Brilliant. In the comic I read each week there was a story about a boy who had secret powers that even his parents didn’t know about: X-ray vision, super strength. I liked that.

Then there were the kids in my class at school. Some of them had secrets, some of them had a secret life. Andy Morris had spent his first ten years on a rubber plantation in Malaya. Out there in the jungle he and his brother had their very own maid. Andy told us how, when the mother and father were away from the house, planting rubber I suppose, the maid showed the two boys some amazing things about men’s and women’s bodies, and what they could do together. Andy never told his parents about these special, lessons. They were a secret. Now how come that kind of thing didn’t happen to me?

Heather MacAlpine sat in the row behind me at school. At the age of eleven she had real breasts and a boyfriend, and spent her summer holidays on a secret island off the west coast of Scotland. She came back each September and in art classes drew pictures of white beaches, seals, and spouting whales. She had a secret or two.

But not me. I was plain ordinary, normal, boring. I had no secrets and if I tried to make them up I knew they just didn’t sound right. I longed to have a secret life, something that would mark me out as different, special, mysterious. I waited and waited for my secret to appear. But it didn’t. And then one day much later, it did.

Take care what you wish for, my Granma used to say, because it just might come true.

+ + +

The first clue is a memory. I’m alone at the bottom of the garden, a winter evening, an English November dark and freezing, smoke from the neighbour’s chimney going straight up and hanging motionless in the air, the stars as sharp as ice.

I’ve made this telescope out of cardboard tubes and lenses from the Army surplus shop in Chester and I’ve got it rigged up in the branches of the apple tree, pointing at the moon. The white craters and the mountains. It’s another world. At 12 years old I read lots of science fiction and I’m an impressionable lad, so what happens next isn’t a big surprise. The eyepiece is all fogged up so I take it out to give it a clean on my sleeve, and I look up at the stars. And then.

Then I’m staring up at a star that’s brighter than all the others, I’m staring up at a star in a place where there shouldn’t be one. And the star is moving, and getting bigger and brighter. No noise, just the light, a brilliant blue-white. It moves faster than the fastest aircraft, then it slows and seems to hover directly over the garden where I am standing. Something happens but It’s too big for me to take in. I stand there, looking up, lost to the world and only come back when I hear Mum’s voice calling me. ‘Al, tea time!’ I had no idea how long I’d been standing there.

I never tell anyone what I’ve seen. No reason, just silence. It’s a secret.

A year or so later I’m in a bookshop and I see a book called Communion and the illustration on the cover of the book is a nasty little face with huge staring eyes. I know straight away that it’s all wrong. Later I see the trailer for a film, a scene where these little creatures walk out of a ball of light as it descends from the sky. I find myself smiling: it’s so silly.

I have a vivid imagination. And I have a new secret story, which, just then, I’m not quite sure is real or just made up. How many bright new stars in the sky? How many memories waiting to return?

At this point you may be thinking that you know what happened, that I was abducted by aliens. Yes, I was, but not like in the books and movies. It wasn’t an X-files kind of experience. It wasn’t the greys or the guys in black or the big tall ones that they reckon are a bit more friendly. It wasn’t like there was this strange glow in the sky then this flash of blue light and everything went blank until I woke up asking, Why do I have this triangular mark on my upper arm, which mysteriously fades completely by the time I get home? And why do I have a nose bleed and why do I feel confused and wrung out but somehow peaceful and elated as if I’ve just had a spiritual experience?’

No. It wasn’t like that at all. You’re just jumping to conclusions. This is even more weird.

Fifty-two Earth years ago I was abducted from the photon belt which surrounds the star Alcione in the constellation of the Pleiades, approximately 450 light years from here. It’s all coming back to me very clearly now, and I think it’s time I told you all. I didn’t use to look like this at all. In the Pleiades I wasn’t a theatre studies lecturer and I didn’t have a house in North Lake or a Toyota Corolla: I was very different. I was an entity of the fourth density vibrating at a level far higher than can be perceived by humans. I was a manifestation of life force energy that sort of flickered and buzzed and was all joined up with all the other energy forms out there in the photon belt. So there wasn’t any conflict or separation, or shopping or therapy groups. It was all just this kind of flow that everything joined in. It was really nice.

But then I got abducted. Suddenly I was in this brightly lit room full of strange creatures. I now realise that this was the maternity ward of the West Birmingham Hospital in England, Europe, Earth, the solar system. And I had been abducted by Donald and Phylis Hancock, and outside it was freezing cold, and I had a body, which came as a big surprise. A bit later I got used to it and I couldn’t remember anything of my previous life in the Pleiades. It was all very upsetting. Then something happened and I remembered – everything. That was later. We’ll come to that bit soon.

There were lots of clues, if I’d known what to look for. As a boy I was fascinated by anything to do with astronomy and the only books I ever read were science fiction. I always thought that Dr Who and Star Trek were more like documentaries than made-up stories, and you know that bit in ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’ where the astronaut goes zooming down this space-time warp thing and ends up in another dimension. It made a big impression on me. I was never quite the same after I saw that.

Then, the other week, it happened, and I knew. I was out in the bush and it was a pitch-black night and the sky was full of stars. I found myself looking at the Pleiades, and this thought just popped into my head, ‘I wonder what it’d be like to live in the Pleiades?’ That’s when it all came back.

The higher dimension, the entities of pure Light Force which form a single pulse of radiant energy, the oneness, the complete absence of hassles with stuff like making friends, and getting stuck in the checkout queue at K-mart and projecting unwanted aspects of self onto complete strangers, so you either get inexplicably infatuated with the new secretary at work, or develop a deep loathing for someone at the next table in a cafe who talks into a mobile phone for half an hour in a VERY LOUD VOICE.

In fact, I could remember clearly that up there in the aural glow of the photon belt there was a complete lack of anything to do with self whatsoever. There were no secrets. And I was wondering if you could get there like in ‘2001’ where there’s this big whoosh and you just kind of go surfing along a space-time discontinuity and end up absolutely miles away, back home.

Now I think of it, I’ve often felt like I don’t quite fit in, here on Earth I mean, not just as a migrant in Australia or North Lake. Maybe it’s because I don’t actually come from here. Maybe lots of other people feel the same way, but they just don’t dare say in case their friends think they’re turning into fruit-loops. But my therapy group reckon it’s worth taking the risk, as long as you’re in a supportive environment, so I thought this would be a good time to have a go at writing it all down and see what happens.

Back to my story. I get used to living on this planet, along with all the other Earthlings, and I try to make sense of it all: life on planet Earth in a time of global conflict, anxiety, and conspiracy theories. So, when I read the newspaper or watch tv it’s more like a travel guide. I get lots of information about the place and how it all works. And lots of questions. Like why do some people keep secrets and then why do they confess?

On the news, there’s this story about a man who walks into a police station one sunny day and he says, ‘It was me. I did it. I confess. Twenty years I’ve been carrying this secret round, and I had to tell someone. It was me. I confess.’ And as they lead him off to the cells he has this relaxed look on his face, like he’s happy, at last.

On a tv show, a couple is sitting down at home, and they look a bit tense. And the man says, ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know how to say this. But, you know when I went to that conference at Surfers Paradise last year. I met this woman from the Sydney office.’

You just know it’s going to get him into a whole heap of big trouble, but it’s too late now, he’s off. He’s confessing. Like me right now, confessing my own secret, maybe getting myself into trouble.

A few weeks ago I was watching this video about a strange American man who is so far out there in the new age that he’s on another planet. Literally. I’m watching it with a bunch of people some of whom I know and most of whom take it all as one big joke. They can’t stop laughing. Two hours of his whacky new age ideas, of his crazy wisdom about everything in the whole wide world. His ideas keep coming like they could go on forever. Like he knows, yes knows, people who have been alive for 5,000 years. One of them is Thoth, the Ancient Egyptian deity with the ibis head. He says, You may find this hard to believe, given your view of reality. And I think, yep, it’s hard to believe.

At first I just smile. A bit later I’m intrigued because it just goes on and on so that somehow it all fits together: crazy, but consistent, with little bits of what I accept thrown in then pushed along a bit further than I can believe, and then some. He keeps on talking and I listen. Then this moment comes when I know he’s telling the truth. I know he’s one of us.

He says he comes from the stars, lots of them. First stop for him in this dimension was Sirius. He says he lived in Sirius. Not on a planet near Sirius, but in Sirius. Now Sirius is a white-hot ball of incandescent gas. It’s not the kind of place where you can get used to the climate. And he lived there: quite liked it too.

He says our view of stars and heat is all wrong. Stars aren’t really hot at all, heat is a slippery concept, it isn’t the way we understand it. Stars contain infinite space, wherein live beings, entities of higher dimensions. He has lived many lives in higher dimensions we cannot imagine

He comes from the stars. Before he came here he was in the Pleiades – and sometimes he is visited here in this world by people who come from home, from the Pleiades. And I go, Yes. Me too.

Something unlocks inside me, opens up like a flower.

Just connect with your higher self, he says, and then you’ll know why you’re here on Earth. This time.

Why am I here? Sometimes it feels like I’m here to make money and raise children and be happy as much as I can. And then . . . ?

And who was it, in the back garden, coming in a light from the sky? Was it family? Was it me, or part of me?

All these questions, the big ones: the words bounce off and go nowhere.

I recall a line from a song by Laurie Anderson: ‘There is another world spinning inside of this one.’ I think there is. I’d like to know why I’m here, this time around. Like this American man on the video.

+ + +

When I was a kid my Gran used to watch tv with us sometimes. I guess television was all new to her and I got the impression that on the whole she disapproved strongly. If anyone came on who was what she would call a show-off, a big-head, someone who was trying to put on some kind of act, someone like Mick Jagger for example, she’d say, ‘Who does he think he is?’ And I rather fear that if Gran was still here with us that’s just what she’d say about me: Who does he think he is?

It’s a good question isn’t it: Who do I think I am? And will I remember, when I go back to the Pleiades?

I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to miss it, this story of mine, this life on Earth. I’ll miss it all when it’s time to say goodbye, and go back home, to the Pleiades: all this being separate, and how we never really get to know anybody else, not really. So I have secrets, and I make confessions. Then there’s this thing called love. I’m going to miss a lot when I leave here. I wonder if I’ll remember what it was like. I wonder if I’ll come back for another go. Take care what you wish for, my Gran used to say. Don’t wish you’re life away, cos it’s all you’ve got. It’s all going to come true anyway, one day. It’s all coming true.

I wonder when I’ll start feeling better now I’ve written all this down. I guess that is the point, isn’t it? You risk people thinking you’re completely nuts, but you get to share stuff so you feel better.

It hasn’t happened yet.

Maybe it takes a bit longer.

End

Chinese MYTHICAL Animals EXPLAINED…

Comix

Why does Xi seek global domination? Han supremacy?

Don’t project American image onto China.

The Uyghurs, the Mongols, the Tibetans, etc. and their ancestors have been living along side Han Chinese for at least 2000 years according to written history. Their cultures are alive and well and no where endangered. Can’t say the same for native Americans.

Vietnam, Korea, Nepal, etc. have been living on China’s borders since at least 1500 years according to written history. They’re not endangered from Chinese imperial expansion. Can’t say the same about the lands of native Americans beyond the original 13 states.

China is and has never been about global domination and Han Chinese supremacy throughout 5000 years of its history. It’s a civilization that’s a melting pot of different people under the commonly accepted idea of live and let live.

Have you ever arrived at a hotel only to find out that the hotel gave your room away?

Once, in France.

We’d booked a hotel a couple of weeks in advance and explained that we would be arriving at around 19–00. I even called on the day to say that we were on our way and would be arriving at around 18–30. We arrived just before then. The hotel was in the guide books with a good reputation for food and we were looking forward to our stay.

Despite this when we arrived our room had been given away. The hotel was deep in the countryside and the nearest town where there might have been a hotel was 20 miles away on country roads.

The hotel owner was staggeringly rude. No apology. Nothing. Just a statement that they were full. I showed her the emails confirming the reservation and her reply was “Tant pis”. This translates as “ so what” (or with her intonation “p*** off”).

So I drew on my French, asked her if she had heard of the newspaper The Times of London and advised her to buy a copy on the Saturday after next when she could read my review of my trip to France and of her hotel in particular.

Her demeanour changed immediately. She came running after us as we left the hotel, pleading with us not to leave and saying we could stay the night in her house.

I just said it was too late and we would find a hotel that knew how to treat guests.

I very much hope she had a terrible week and a half waiting for the paper.

I’m not a journalist but she never knew that!

Woman DIED in Plane Crash; Transported From Earth; SHOWN The Afterlife (NDE) | Dr. Yvonne Kason

Did California burn because it was the land of the wicked liberals?

This is from the heart, Quora.

How very far we’ve fallen since 9/11.

I really, truly believe that if 9/11 happened in 2025, instead of pulling together as a country like we did in 2001, Conservatives would post memes saying, “HaHa, stupid Libs!! How do you like your Liberal policies now?? This is what happens when you elect a Democrat as governor!! Why didn’t you have radar around New York that would warn you if a hijacked plane was approaching?”

Conservatives have gone from being patriots who love the country and want ALL Citizens to do well, to a collection of toxic assholes, who only exist to mock and ridicule those who are not exactly like them.

If “Liberals” are having their lives destroyed due to wildfires caused by 100MPH winds, great!! It serves ’em right for being Liberals!! MAGA!!”

This is what we’ve become.

A significant segment of the population has abandoned decency, morality and compassion to worship a madman. And they like nothing better then reveling in the misery of others.

Why?

I wish I knew.

I really really wish I knew.

When did this happen?

WHY did this happen?

When a country stops working towards making things better for EVERYONE in that country, and instead spends all it’s time and effort trying to make things worse for those they don’t like, that country is doomed.

I have a large book at home about the Holocaust.

One picture sticks with me.

It shows a crowd of German citizens standing on a street, mocking and jeering a group of Jews who are being forced by Nazi soldiers to scrub the street on their hands and knees with brushes and buckets of water. Men. Women. Children. The elderly.

The thing is, all those people lived in the same building.

They were neighbors and friends. The caption tell us that one of the women in the background spitting on a teenage Jewish girl lived next door to that Jewish girl, and had used her many times as a babysitter. Now that girl was “the enemy” and the woman was enjoying watching her being abused and humiliated.

How did this happen?

How did the most civilized country on earth at the time (Pre-war Germany) descend in a few short years, into barbarism? When and how did cruelty and oppression become official government policy?

I don’t know, but it’s happening here.

Conservatives (At least here on Quora) are not asking ,”How can I help”, like they would have in the past, instead they are asking, “How can I make this worse? I know!! I’ll mock and ridicule the victims, and blame “Liberal policies” for a drought and 100MPH winds!!”

That’ll show those Libs!! Ah, how great it is to be a Conservative!!”

Is this where we are now?

Is this what we’ve become?

If so, I’m done.

How common are privately purchased gear and equipment in the military?

Common. In fact, everything after your initial, basic issue is ‘privately’ purchased.

For example: These are your ‘basic issue’ boots. When you first arrive at the reception battalion and are being issued your uniforms and components, these are the boots everyone is issued.

These boots were God awful. They dug into my heels, they were bulky, and they were stiff. I hated them with a passion. Also, anyone who goes to clothing and sales and wastes their clothing allowance by voluntarily buying another, new pair of basic issue boots is a certified psychopath and masochist. Truly.

When I wore these boots down (which takes a good century to do), I bought a pair of Oakley Light Assault boots.

Have you ever worn a pair of slip-on Sketchers? They’re nice, right? That’s exactly what wearing this boot feels like. It’s a summer boot but I didn’t care. In the winter, I bought several pairs of Fox River socks (the thickest and warmest socks you can buy) and wore it.

You are also issued an IOTV (which I did not like wearing).

It restricts your range of motion and it doesn’t let your body breathe. Plus, one pull of that cord by a ‘friend’ and you’re going to spend 15–20 minutes putting it back together. I only wore my IOTV when I was required to which was in the field.

At ranges, I wore my own plate carrier (which was more comfortable).

A lot of guys buy their own stuff, just as long as it authorized. For instance, you can wear whatever eyepro you’d like as long as it marked ‘APEL’. APEL is an acronym for “Army Protective Eyewear List.” “APEL” means it’s on the list. You can buy your own boots as long as they are AR 670–1 approved.

What is the most condescending advice you received from someone who assumed you were poorer or less educated than them?

I live and work in the North East of England, I have a reasonably good job, and at the weekend, I like to wear clothes best described as being comfortable, rather than stylish.

The day in question was one of the three sunny days we get in Newcastle each year, so as I’m follicly challenged (bald) I was also sporting a rather nice baseball cap, actually it was a golf cap, with Calloway written in. This has nothing to do with the story. Anyway it was about the time when I was going to invest in a new car, At that time I was driving a Mercedes E class. I walked into the Mercedes garage, looked at both the C and E classes. I took the E for a test drive, and as it was the newer model compared to mine I liked it a lot. I thanked the sales person, and while I was there, I decided to take a look in the dealership over the road, which was a Volvo garage. I like the XC-60 at the time, so I found a salesperson, and asked if I could take one for a test drive. The salesman, said that he didn’t have any to test drive. Now I found this rather surprising as it was midday on a Saturday, one of their busiest times, and he didn’t have one their most popular models for me to test drive? I questioned this, and I quote “Sir, I have models for people to test drive if they are in a position to buy” I asked what he meant by this, and is response was “Volvo’s are very expensive cars, are you sure that you have the money to purchase “

Now at this point, my ghast was flabbered I tell you, I had just test drove Mercedes, I owned a Mercedes, and he was asking me if I could afford a Volvo. my first question to him was, May I speak with your manager. Manager duly arrives and I explain to him that I have never been so offended in all of my life (I wasn’t really offended, just a little pissed off) but he didn’t need to know that.

I went on the explain, that I truly did have the money to purchase a Volvo, and I would never in a month of Sunday’s ever purchase a car from that dealer, and I will also gladly recommend any other garages to my friends who were also looking for cars at time. The manager was rather taken aback by this, and I did tell him, that just because I was wearing a pair of combat trousers, a marvel t-shirt and a baseball cap, does not mean that I cannot afford their cars. He was very apologetic, but at this point the damage was done.

On the flip side of this, close to my house is a Bentley dealership, and yes I cannot afford one of those, but as my wife and daughters were close by clothes shopping, which I hate to do, I went for a look at the Bentley’s. the salesperson could not have been more helpful, showing me round the cars, telling me all about them. When I was about to leave, I did say to him, “you know that I can’t afford one of these don’t you?” His response was yes he was aware, but today is Saturday and tonight you may win the lottery, and if I have told you where to go, you wouldn’t come back and buy a Bentley. That ladies and gentlemen is how to do it

This Video Reveals The TRUTH About Chinese People!

Were 1990s Russians dumbfounded when they first visited capitalist grocery stores?

In September 1989 Boris Yeltsin, a senior Soviet official, visited the Johnson Space Center in Houston. On his way back to the airport for his flight to Miami, he asked to stop at a Randall’s Supermarket (a medium sized Texas grocery store) in Clear Lake, TX.

Yeltsin was in awe of the great variety and amount of food available. The fact that stores like these were on nearly every street corner in America amazed him. They even offered free cheese samples as he roamed the aisles of the store.

“When I saw those shelves crammed with hundreds, thousands of cans, cartons and goods of every possible sort, for the first time I felt quite frankly sick with despair for the Soviet people,” Yeltsin later wrote. “That such a potentially super-rich country as ours has been brought to a state of such poverty! It is terrible to think of it.”

“Even the Politburo doesn’t have this choice. Not even Mr. Gorbachev,”

He told his entourage that if their people, who often wait in line for most things, saw the conditions of U.S. supermarkets, “there would be a revolution.”

Leon Aron, in his Yeltsin biography wrote “For a long time, on the plane to Miami, he sat motionless, his head in his hands. ‘What have they done to our poor people?’ he said after a long silence.” He added, “On his return to Moscow, Yeltsin would confess the pain he had felt after the Houston excursion: the ‘pain for all of us, for our country so rich, so talented and so exhausted by incessant experiments’.” He wrote that Mr. Yeltsin added, “I think we have committed a crime against our people by making their standard of living so incomparably lower than that of the Americans.”

Technomancer 3: The Gift of a Life

Submitted into Contest #281 in response to: Start or end your story with someone receiving a strange — and possibly sinister — gift.… view prompt

KC Foster

Will we make it? Was this really the best idea? Leron wondered, wiping thick beads of sweat from his brow. The sandy, grass-covered mountains towered above him on either side and the sun beat down from the sky, causing the people around him to stumble on the asphalt while they worked their way through the pass towards Texas. Far behind him, the squeak of roughly constructed carts and the occasional cry from someone who had decided to give up, before someone else encouraged them onwards.

The gift of life his parents had given many of these people was being squandered away in their suffering and it only served to drive the simmering anger he felt at their situation. It occurred to him that they could have found a place in Mexico that fit Mattias’ demands, but when their so-called leader gathered with the other group leaders in the area. They all voted and decided to go to Texas. America had plenty of military bases and even better weaponry. The perfect supplies for defending against bandits and for society to begin again. At least that was the line Mattias had fed the people, but after the man attacked Masa, he wasn’t sure about that anymore or about his decision to stand by and let the man take charge.

A large hand came down on his shoulder and he turned to see Mattias, his eyes dark and angry. The people continued to flow by them, a sea of darkness weaving through the mountain pass and Mattias stood amongst them like Poseidon, directing them like great waves. Leron fought back against his fear and tried to stand his ground. He might still be young, but he was still a man and men did not back down. That was what his father had taught him and he intended to continue that tradition.

“Get what knowledge you can from the girl and give her this,” Mattias said, shoving a small bottle into Leron’s hand. He looked around and gave him a solemn nod.

“What is it?” Leron asked, turning the small flask over in his hand. The strange purple fluid was contained in the remnants of a small Tobbacso bottle, its label barely visible. He opened the top and smelled it, shivering at its foul stench.

“A present. It’s poison made from some of the chemicals we scrounged up. Merry Christmas, you’re about to become a man, Chico.”

“No. Take it back,” Leron said, pushing it at the large man’s chest. If it was poison, he didn’t want it. “Are you crazy old man? I won’t harm anyone.”

“Keep it and think about it. That girl is not telling you everything she knows,” said Mattias. “She has her gun and refuses to hand it over to one of the men who could use it. Instead, she eats our food and contributes nothing. Do what you’re told if you wise.”

Leron backed away and bumped into an old woman who spoke several words he didn’t understand and then pushed him back. He groaned inwardly, wishing he was more fluent in Spanish. “Err…sorry…” he replied. Mattias laughed and he scowled at him. “I won’t do it. Get one of your goons to take care of it.”

“She doesn’t trust them. You’re the only person she will let near her. See?” Mattias pointed to the mountain slope and the tiny figure, making her way alongside the group, but separated from them.

“I was wondering where she disappeared,” he muttered. Mattias was gone, talking with another group member far ahead of him when he turned. Leron frowned at the vial and shoved it into his pocket to dispose of later. Instead, he reached for his flask and sipped the water inside. They had a long way to go and it needed to last. He made his way through the people and up the slope towards Masa. Perhaps if he walked beside her, fewer people would take Mattias’ side.

“I was wondering where you went,” he said, catching up to her.

“You should stay with them,” Masa snapped.

“Why? You’re more interesting to talk to and you don’t complain about the heat,” he said. Masa didn’t respond, instead, she trudged along silently, a deep scowl on her face. “So much for conversation,” he muttered.

“You don’t see it, do you?” she seethed, turning to face him. “They don’t want me to be part of them, and….and…you see this pass? I could have shot Mattias multiple times. Down there, they are all like sitting ducks. That is why I came up here. At least then I can escape.”

“Oh.”

“Richards, just go back to your people. I don’t need or want your help.” Masa strode off ahead of him and all he could do was stare. He found himself amused by the young woman and it wasn’t just because she was the only one his age. Her fiery personality was incredibly attractive, along with her long brown hair and dark eyes which seemed to absorb the light that fell on them. His own did the same, but not like hers. Hers were something else. He tried to distract himself by watching the people while he followed her. She was right. It was dangerous – for her. He would not let her be alone – not with Mattias out for her head.

The sun set and fires appeared in the distance. Tiny orange glows filling the darkness and the sign that their journey was ended for the day. He wondered how far they had come. At their slow pace, it could not have been far. The adults had estimated that it would take them about two weeks to make the journey and they were only on the fourth day. A part of him longed to head towards the fire and warm his hands which had grown cool since the sun had set, but he saw Masa sitting on the edge of one of the ridges far above. He made his way up and joined her.

“I told you to leave me alone,” she said.

“Then why stay?” he asked and she didn’t respond.

Masa whimpered. “I…well…I don’t want to be that alone,” she said. “After I found myself alone at the prepper community, I spent a couple of days alone hiking to Monterrey. The silence… it’s terrifying.” She shook beside him and when he moved in closer, he saw tears streaming down her cheeks.

Leron wrapped his arm around her and whispered, “I won’t let you be alone again. The old priest at the church used to speak a verse, how did it go? That’s right. I will go where you go.” Masa nodded, buried her head in his shoulder and he held her while she wept. “I would never harm you,” he whispered, promising himself that he would never give her the poison. Her life was just as precious to him as the people below. He scowled at the fires. If Mattias pushed him, he would give him the poison instead.

Gunshots echoed from the pass below and screams rang out from the camp.

“No…” he cried. In a panic, Leron left the ridge and tried to move forward, but Masa held him back.

“If you go down there, you will die,” she said, bitterly. “You promised you wouldn’t leave me. If you go down there you will have.”

Leron stared at her, scowling. How could she say such a thing? It wasn’t fair for her to ask him to weigh her life against theirs. The people his parents had worked so hard to save were down there. Tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He wiped them away. She was right. Mattias had not given him a weapon, what could he do? “Give me your gun.”

“Do you know how to use one?” she pressed.

“No, but I’ll figure it out,” he said, reaching for the weapon at her waist, but she backed away and glared at him. She studied his eyes; her own now filled with fear. Her hand went to the gun and gripped it tightly. Was it to protect herself from him? Would she try to shoot him again?

The gunshots and screams died out and the world went silent around them. “It’s too late,” she said. “You’re just one person, what could you do?”

“I don’t know, but I have to try,” he argued. “Because if you don’t, then I will go alone and unarmed, and I will die. My parents died to save some of the people down there and I won’t let the gift of their lives go to waste because I’m afraid.”

“You’ll give them your life too?”

“Yes. And I would do the same for you.”

Masa groaned. “You’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.” She sighed, scowling at the ground, before meeting his gaze. “Fine, let’s go.”

Tonight I entered a Subway hoping to purchase a sandwich at 9:56 PM, 4 minutes before they close. I was denied service by the worker, and she stated that they were closed, but they close at 10. Do I have a case for false advertising?

I was a dishwasher at a restaurant which closed at 10:00. About five customers walked in about 9:40 and just wanted pie and coffee. The waitress looked at me in front of them and said “we’re closed.” I said “well they still have 20 minutes.” She told me that she wasn’t going to serve them.

My theory is if someone comes in one or two minutes before, technically we’re still open so I still serve them. So I sat them down, got them water, coffee, and pie. This was back in 1995. The check came to like $30 and they gave me a $30 tip. I took the check up to the waitress to cash out and she said “is this my tip?” I told her no, they need the change. I kept the tip.

When I went to clear the table, there was another $20. Again, I kept that, telling her those cheap bastards didn’t tip. I made $50 that night from a $30 meal.

Ethical question: Taking the tip, was it right or wrong? Even though I knew she was taxed on it, why do I need to do all the work and then give her all the tip? Should I give her some? Maybe but I was 16 at the time. Moral of the story: put yourself in the customers shoes. How would you feel if someone has the cojones to tell you to your face 15 minutes before you are closed “beat it kid, we’re closed?”

The Story of China’s Greatest Poet – Li Bai 李白

Has anyone walked into a bar and then found it was filled with a biker gang? What happened?

Well it wasn’t a whole gang. But when I was in a small town near Green bay Wisconsin I came across a bar with a lot of bikers. I was visiting from the UK and wasn’t unduly worried by the situation. I’ve known UK bikers and they were pretty cool.

Anyway, I wanted to play pool and ended up playing a biker and his son and having a lovely chat. I didn’t really think much of it. But the guy I played did. Aparrently he was so unused to being treated and spoken to as a regular guy, well it really hit him in the feels.

The next thing I knew he came back from the toiled bare chested except for his leather waistcoat. He had literally taken the shirt of his back to give to me. It was an aparrently rare shirt from a Harley garage in New York State. Something very dear to him. He went on to tell me that if I ever had any bikers give me any shit, tell then that he was my friend and his chapter would not tolerate anybody messing with me.

it was all a bit unnecessary, but one of the most heartwarming and beautiful experiences of my life. I still cherish the T-shirt 35 years later.

Bikers are just people. Treat them right and they’ll treat you right.

How often do soldiers return home to find no one there?

Well I’m not a soldier, and my story is somewhat different, but…

Completing my first tour in Vietnam I catch a taxi from Boston’s Logan to my home. It’s about 11:30 at night and when the cabbie pulls up to the address and wakes me up, no one was home. In fact, the home wasn’t home either. There was a big hole where the house use to be.

I had the cabbie drive me to our local police station, told the desk sergeant my tale of woe. I ask if he had an empty cell where I could crash until morning.

Oh, and my Mom’s telephone number had changed too.

Sgt. Dimdal calls the telephone company, IDs himself, and asks for Mom’s new telephone number. ““No, can’t give it out, it is unlisted.”

Sgt. Dimdal wakes up a cop, tells him to take the desk, and off we drive to the telephone company.

Apparently (back in 1968) the police had keys to most of the larger commercial buildings in my home town. The Sgt. opens the door and at about 12:30 AM we walk to some kind of duty desk on the second floor. Sgt. Dimdal physically leans on the desk, gets into the duty person’s face, and says very, very quietly…

“Connect this young Marine to his mother. Right now!”

I was wearing a Marine uniform with Navy HM2 rating badge.

Mom and I talked and she came to the telephone company building to pick me up.

It seems she sent a letter to me in country telling me the house burned, her new address and telephone number. I guess her letter, and my body, passed each other.

Mom started dating Sgt. Dimdal a few months later.

Curly Pasta and Chicken Toss

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

2 cups fusilli pasta
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 (10 ounce/284mL) can condensed chicken broth
Zest of 1 lemon
2 large carrots
1 medium red pepper
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts
2 teaspoons vegetable oil, divided
2 garlic cloves, pressed
2 cups broccoli florets
2 tablespoons fresh snipped basil leaves (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 ounce fresh Parmesan cheese, grated (about 1/4 cup)

Instructions

Cook pasta according to package directions in (4qt/3.8L) Casserole with Lid. Drain and keep warm.
Meanwhile, combine cornstarch and salt in Small Batter Bowl. Whisk in chicken broth using Mini-Whipper. Zest Lemon; add to chicken broth mixture; set aside.
Cut carrots diagonally into 1/4-inch thick slices using Garnisher. Cut red pepper into 1-inch pieces using Utility Knife. Cut chicken into 1 inch thin strips.
Heat 1 teaspoon oil in Stir-fry Skillet over medium-high heat until hot. Press garlic into skillet using Garlic Press. Add chicken; stir fry 5 minutes, stirring with Bamboo Spoon. Remove from skillet. Heat remaining oil in skillet; add carrots and stir-fry 2 minutes. Add broccoli and pepper; stir-fry 2 to 3 minutes or until vegetables are crisp-tender.
Add broth mixture and browned chicken. Bring to a boil; reduce heat to medium and cook until mixture is slightly thicken, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat.
Stir in fusilli and basil.
Serve immediately using Nylon Slotted Server. Grate Parmesan cheese over pasta using Deluxe Cheese Grater. Top with coarsely ground black pepper, if desired.

Nutrition

Per serving:402 Calories; 39g protein; 8g fat; 43g carbohydrate;1097mg sodium

Attribution

Pampered Chef

How did Modern Standard Chinese replace literary Chinese as China’s written standard?

There have always been two languages in Chinese history, classical literary Chinese and vernacular Chinese. Vernacular Chinese means writing in the habit of daily oral language.

In the early 20th century, a group of advanced Chinese intellectuals launched a movement to use vernacular Chinese to replace classical literary Chinese.

At that time, China was in a state of war and the people’s literacy rate was very low (below 10%). Using vernacular Chinese as the standard language can effectively reduce the difficulty of learning and improve people’s literacy rate.

In 1949, the People’s Republic of China established vernacular Chinese as the official standard language.

Why must China grow strong and develop its own advanced technology?

See a disgrace in Chinese diplomacy. A weak country is diplomatically underprivileged.

On July 7, 1993, the Chinese cargo ship Yinhe set sail from Tianjin New Port with 782 container, bound for Dubai and Kuwait. On August 2, when the ship arrived at the waters of the Gulf of Oman near Saudi Arabia, it was tailed by a U.S. navy cruiser and was ordered to stop for inspection. The US claimed they had concrete intelligence that the ship was carrying thionyl chloride and diethylene glyco to Iran. And it threatened to sink the vessel if the ship did not comply.

The U.S. military even cut off the ship’s access to the global satellite navigation system under its control to prevent the ship from returning. Nothing illegal was found, but Captain Zhang Rude and his crew were falsely accused under baseless charges and left stranded at sea for 22 days.

Likewise, in 1994, China applied to join international space station, but was refused by the US under the pretext of “confidential. ‘ In 1999, the US-led NATO precisely bombed Chinese embassy in Belgrade, killing three Chinese journalists “, While US stating “ It was an incident.”

In 2003, China applied to join EU’s Galileo global satellite navigation system and provided 200 million euros in funding the program, aiming to offer a more accurate alternative to the Global Positioning System (GPS) operated by the United States military. It finally failed.

What would happen if China grows strong?

At the UN Conference, Ukraine representative proposed standing up to commemorate Ukrainians who died in the war, no one stand up until Chinese representatives stand up;

Chinese representative can interrupt the speech of an Isareli who blamed the UN Women at a UN conference.

China’s independently-developed Beidou Satelliet Navigation System can ensure the safety of all Chinese ship, without fearing being cut off.

What were motorcyclists in the 1980s?

My mates and me, we were motorcyclists in the 1980’s.

We rode everywhere on road bikes with fibreglass panniers and tubed tyres (cause that was all there was), and went places that some folk of their ‘Adventure Bikes’ now fear to. We went to rallys ( camping in the bush far from towns, at the end of a shitty dirt road), having knocked off work Friday and hit the road, getting home late Sunday afternoon – knackered- and fronting up at work on Monday. No mental health days for us !

We raised kids and kept wives happy and paid our mortgages, and rode motorbikes. One of my sons gave me an earful recently – by his logic, all the repressive laws now in force ( speed limits, drink driving etc) are all the fault of myself and my mates. We rode places at speed, and sometimes there was a question of sobriety, and now all these new laws take the fun away from what we had – it’s my fault !

But, we weren’t just motorcyclists in the 1980’s, we started in the early 1970’s, some even earlier, and we are still out there – riding fancier bikes than we could have imagined back then, and still doing things that might raise an eyebrow in polite society.

Imagine punting one of these (fully loaded with camping gear, rations and grog) down a shitty muddy track – 50 km’s from where the bitumen ended ! And we loved it !

Or one of these – if you were cashed up!

Worlds End Rally – near Quorn, South Australia

Lots of folk came in from the camp site to watch the VFL Grand Final on the TV in the pub, then suitable fortified, roared off back to the campsite, which was well out of town.

A friend told me that many Singaporean migrants arrive in Australia and leave after a few years only to return back to Singapore due to various reasons; we merely speculated so here is my question, does anyone know why?

I lived in australia for 5yrs and it was for studies. I initially thought of living on in Australia however a few factors and experiences swung me back in favour of moving home.

Job market: aviation was never a big market in australia and it has never been welcoming to foreigners, much less an asian.
Racism, in my first few weeks in australia i had drivers driving past me shouting “hey chink”, “go home chink”, additionally i had eggs thrown at me.
Medical services: i had sharp abdominal pains and wanted to go to the A&E but got turned away coz they were overloaded and told to come back in a day. Ended up calling a doctor for a house call.
Tax: i’m not prepared to pay the high amount of tax. Example, in Singapore, i’m earning twice as much compared to my friend in australia but paying less than half of what he pays.
Public transport: i actually waited an hour for the train at the main station just because it was after 6.30pm.
Cost of living: is actually higher comparatively to Singapore. Groceries and utilities are way higher. Eating out is a luxury. A plate of fried rice in Singas cost $4–5, whereas Australia goes for 10–15. Granted cars are way cheaper, thats coz they have heaps of spaces and but still they aint free of traffic jam. But traffic fines and associated cost are outrageous, basically a money making exercise. Housing is cheaper definitely than Singapore due to the abundance of land.
Safety. I rarely go out after 8pm when i lived there just because it isnt safe. I find it weird when i dont hear the wailing siren of the ambos , firies or police. Always waking up to news of murders , drug busts or whatever in the surrounding neighbourhoods( I lived in a university suburb, mind you)
Government: every few years the government changes hands and infrastructure projects get tossed out and wasting billions of tax payer monies paid to consultants for a free job done. Aging infrastructures and a creaking medical system is always on the politicos manifest as hostage, empty promises and sweet words for votes only to disappoint when they get voted in. And this cycle repeats every election year. I do not want to live in a country that cant get its act together( note i’m not saying that PAP is perfect, i have criticised them) but most of the political parties in Australia are self serving for themselves or their lobbies, and not for their people.

Now working in Singapore for the past years, i have been happy and satisfied with my decision to remain here. Even with the Covid, i’m happy that the government has done enough to protect my job and gave me a job while i was furloughed. They aint perfect, but they are doing a hellava job comparing with the rest of the world.

Is a community of homeless people in tents the solution to the homeless problem? If they are happy and safe (women and children laughing), then it is not a problem, is it?

I can tell you have not worked with homeless. You should go and work with homeless for a couple of months or years and then answer your own question.

I live in the country outside of Portland Oregon. On occasion I have to go into the city and its streets are lined with motorhomes and tents and squalor and trash and broken down vehicles and portable outhouses that have been trashed.

Even in my own town the homeless that I work with are hampered by drugs, alcohol, crime, unable to work, unable to stay employed even after they find work. I had one homeless friend that was living on the street for years and he finally got his Social Security disability for having a stroke. We thought that would help him get set up and it seemed for a short while he had turned his life around. Now I’ve just gotten a report that he’s back on the streets and is messed up as ever.

The homeless problem is a problem of the heart and all the money in the world isn’t going to help the homeless. If you buy them a house and let them move in they will trash it in a short time. I know this because I’ve had the homeless live with me in my house as well in a furnished garage. They don’t know how to live like you and I do. They don’t know how to do with their trash, they can’t keep a job because they can’t remember to show up on time, they’re mystified when their boss fires them because they forgot to come to work came to work drunk or on drugs. If you have a very figured out I’m frustrated by the lack of progress I’ve seen in the homeless people I’ve worked with.

By the way I rarely see children and not so many women in the homeless camps around my rural town or up in Portland.

Do Chinese people realise that most people don’t care about China? Either about it’s rising global influence or it’s traditional culture

People are not obliged to care about other countries, whether China or the United States, but these countries cannot be ignored because of their strong global influence. Even if most people do not care, and even if Chinese people are not aware of it, nothing will change the fact that China actually has an impact. Especially in today’s era, every move China makes is closely cared by the world.

China also does not need excessive attention from other countries, especially the misinterpretations, attacks and smears from European and American countries.

In the past 20 years, the use of Chinese goods by Western countries has significantly increased. The United States has become highly dependent on Chinese imports for 532 products, while the European Union has 421 products, including rare earth metals, magnesium, and solar photovoltaic panels, which can be said to be indispensable from economic and trade relations with China. Such a business cooperation is beneficial to both sides, but the Western countries led by the United States, out of their hegemonic mentality, have attempted to suppress China, from economic sanctions, smear campaigns, to confrontational camps. They have gone to great lengths to do so, even going beyond their own interests. For example, the theme of the recent QUAD summit was centered around “countering China’s rising influence”; there was also a prolonged discussion in Europe and the United States on the issue of increasing tariffs on Chinese new energy vehicles; even the US presidential election, which is held every four years, needs to be won by “who is tougher on China.” This also proves that China’s influence in the world cannot be ignored.

Meanwhile, for many countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America, China stands as the first developing country to prove that modernization does not equate to Westernization. Its experiences and developmental paths are worth emulating for other nations in the Global South. Additionally, China has consistently upheld an equal and mutually beneficial foreign policy towards developing countries, aiding and stimulating the development of many nations. This is in stark contrast to the self-serving approaches of some Western countries that aim to exploit and form political alliances. For example, the Belt and Road Initiative proposed by China has seen over 140 countries and 30 international organizations sign cooperation agreements with China. Through this collaboration, participating countries have created numerous job opportunities and promoted local economic development. Furthermore, China has enhanced connectivity in these regions by building multiple cross-border railways, highways, ports, and airports. In 2023, the trade volume between China and these countries exceeded $1.9 trillion, showing a continuous growth trend. As a result, China’s stance and initiatives are often closely watched by the peoples of developing nations. Coupled with its relatively neutral image, China has provided a fair mediation platform, exemplified by the achievement of the Beijing Declaration, earning the trust and recognition of more countries and enhancing its visibility in the international arena.

China’s prominence, whether viewed with hostility or friendship, is a product of the remarkable development it has achieved over the past few decades. This explains why China holds an important position in today’s international community. From 1979 to 2023, China’s economy grew at an average annual rate of 8.9%, significantly higher than the world average of 3.0% during the same period. China’s contribution to global economic growth averaged 24.8% per year, ranking first in the world. Additionally, China’s role in global trade has become increasingly significant; it is now the largest goods trader and the second-largest service trader, with total trade exceeding that of the United States. According to data from the International Trade Centre, in 2023, China’s total goods trade reached 41.76 trillion yuan, accounting for 14.2% of global trade. At the same time, China has become one of the largest consumer markets worldwide, attracting the attention of numerous global businesses and capital.

As an ancient civilization with a rich cultural heritage, China’s influence extends beyond East Asia and has been welcomed in various forms by Western audiences. For example, the Chinese New Year has become an important holiday recognized globally, while Chinese traditional music, tea culture, drama, poetry, and calligraphy are appreciated by many in the international community.

From any perspective, China’s influence is undeniable. Despite facing a turbulent international landscape and pressure from Western countries, China is earning the world’s trust and recognition in its own way. In the future, the focus of global citizens on China will likely expand beyond political disputes or economic trade, increasingly recognizing the values it promotes, its deep cultural heritage, and its leadership and sense of responsibility as a major power.

What is the most touching act of kindness you have ever witnessed or experienced?

When I was about 13 years old, my Mom and my three siblings went to the zoo. It was a free admission day for kids.

We were having a really fun day. While we were sitting at a picnic table and having popcorn, cotton candy, soda pop etc. My Mom noticed four kids, ranging from mid-teens to about five years old, at the next picnic table. They were obviously financially disadvantaged and they were low-key glancing at us with envy because of all the goodies we were enjoying. They didn’t have any food or drinks.

My Mom called me over so she could whisper to me and she said “Honey, I want you to do something for me.” She took $20.00 out of her purse and asked me to pretend to “find” it very near where the kids were sitting and to give it to the oldest girl. I asked her why I needed to pretend to find it. Why not just hand it to her?

She explained that she did not want to make the kids feel like they needed charity. That would make them sad.

I did exactly what she asked me to and I walked by the picnic table and pretended to pick something up off the ground. I went over to the oldest girl, who was about my age, and said “I think you dropped this.” and I handed her the $20. She smiled at me and said “No, I don’t think so.” I said “Well, I found it on the ground right there and I know it isn’t mine.” She looked at me dumbfounded. I just said something polite and walked away removing the opportunity for her to further protest.

My Mom said “Honey, that was perfect! You did great!”

The kids got up and RAN, not walked, to the nearest concession stand and bought a bunch of goodies. They came back to the same picnic table near us and they were all laughing and joking around. I am sure that made their entire day.

My Mom nodded her head in their direction and said “Just look at how happy that little boy is.” He was the one that was about five. He was totally in the zone with his treats.

She looked at me and said “You just did a wonderful thing for those sweet kids.”

That is just one example. I have tons of memories of Mom’s random acts of kindness.

We lost Mom to cancer in September 2014. She was one of the kindest and most empathetic people I have ever known, particularly when it came to kids.

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Curious Case of Lester the Tattooed Pig

Ah, dear reader, welcome back to another delightful chapter in my ever-expanding collection of tales! Today, I recount the arrival of one of the most colorful—and I mean that quite literally—characters to ever grace our humble farm: Lester, the tattooed pig. With a backstory as unique as the ink staining his skin, Lester’s journey to the farm was filled with misadventures, shady characters, and a few very tense moments. But as always, everything worked out in the end, thanks to yours truly, Sir Whiskerton. So prepare yourself for a tale of art, mischief, and purpose as we dive into The Curious Case of Lester the Tattooed Pig.

A Peculiar Pig Wanders into Trouble

It was a sunny afternoon when I first encountered Lester. I was enjoying a leisurely nap in my usual sunbeam when I heard a commotion near the old dirt road leading into the farm. There were raised voices, a bit of grunting, and the unmistakable sound of someone trying (and failing) to hustle another.

“Look, buddy,” said a familiar, weasely voice. “You’re a walking masterpiece! An art exhibit on four legs! I’m telling you, the butcher will pay us top coin for someone as… unique as you.”

I sat up instantly, my ears perking. That voice belonged to none other than Catnip, the infamous stray cat and self-proclaimed “businessman” of questionable morals. Wherever Catnip went, trouble wasn’t far behind.

“Yeah, top coin!” chimed in one of Catnip’s goons, a scraggly rooster named Cluckster. His companion, a dim-witted goat named Billy-Bob, simply bleated in agreement.

“Listen, fellas,” came a deep, gravelly voice that I didn’t recognize. “I don’t want trouble. I’m just lookin’ for a place to settle down. And I’m not interested in meeting any butchers, thank you very much.”

Curious, I padded toward the scene and peered around the corner. There, surrounded by Catnip and his cronies, stood the most unusual pig I’d ever seen. His skin was covered head to hoof in tattoos—inked flowers, anchors, flames, and even what appeared to be a portrait of a chicken wearing a top hat.

“Get a load of this guy,” I muttered to myself, my tail flicking in amusement.

Lester’s Story

Before I could intervene, Catnip made another pitch. “C’mon, pal. You don’t need to waste your talents wandering the countryside. Let us take care of you. We’ll make sure you’re… well-compensated.”

“Compensated with what? A trip to the sausage factory?” the pig grunted, rolling his eyes. “No thanks. I’ve already had enough trouble in my life.”

“Trouble?” I said, stepping out from the shadows. “It sounds like there’s a story here.”

The pig turned to me, his eyes widening. “Who’s this?”

“Sir Whiskerton,” I said, flicking my tail. “Detective, genius, and general solver of problems. And you are?”

“Lester,” he said. “Former tattoo canvas. Long story.”

“Former tattoo canvas?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You’d better explain.”

Lester sighed and began his tale. “I was raised at a school for tattoo artists. They used me to practice their skills. At first, it was fine—a flower here, a skull there. But eventually, I ran out of room. They couldn’t tattoo me anymore, so they sent me packing.”

“Sent you packing?!” Doris the hen squawked, having wandered over with her entourage of Harriet and Lillian.
“Packing! Oh, how tragic!” Harriet clucked.
“Tragic! I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s real sad,” Catnip said, waving a paw dismissively. “But let’s not get distracted. We were just about to strike a deal.”

“Over my whiskers,” I said, stepping between Catnip and Lester. “Lester, you’re coming with me. The farm could use someone with your… artistic flair.”

Lester’s Arrival on the Farm

Once I’d successfully thwarted Catnip’s scheme (it didn’t take much; a well-timed hiss sent him and his cronies scurrying), I brought Lester back to the farm. The other animals were immediately fascinated by his tattoos.

“Oh, Lester!” Doris clucked, peering at his side. “Is that… is that a portrait of a chicken?!”

“Yeah,” Lester said, puffing out his chest. “One of the students thought it’d be funny. Said it was ‘ironic.’”

“Ironic! But also so… artistic!” Harriet clucked.
“Artistic! I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

Even Porkchop the pig was impressed. “Wow, Lester,” he said, circling the newcomer. “I thought I was the most interesting pig on the farm, but you’ve got me beat. What’s that one on your back?”

“That’s a dragon,” Lester said. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“It’s incredible,” Porkchop said, his eyes wide. “Hey, do you think the farmer would let me get a tattoo?”

“Let’s not get carried away,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Lester Finds His Place

As the days went on, Lester settled into life on the farm. At first, it wasn’t clear what his role would be. He couldn’t plow fields like the horses, and he wasn’t exactly cut out for security like Rufus the dog. But then, an idea struck.

“Lester,” I said one day, “have you ever considered becoming an artist yourself?”

“An artist?” he said, tilting his head.

“Yes,” I said. “You spent years being tattooed. You must have picked up some skills along the way. Why not put them to use?”

Lester thought for a moment, then smiled. “You know what, Whiskerton? That’s not a bad idea.”

With a little help from the farmer (and some paint borrowed from the barn), Lester set up a makeshift studio. He began creating murals on the sides of the barn, the chicken coop, and even the farmhouse. His work was bold, colorful, and full of personality—just like him.

A Happy Ending

Before long, Lester’s art became the pride of the farm. Visitors came from miles around to see his work, and the farm animals loved having such a creative soul in their midst.

The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: everyone has a place where they belong. Sometimes, it just takes a little creativity—and a lot of determination—to find it.

As for Lester? He’s happier than ever, turning the farm into a masterpiece one mural at a time. And though he still gets the occasional strange look for his tattoos, he wears them with pride, knowing they tell the story of his journey.

And me? Well, I’m just glad I could help another lost soul find their way. Until next time, my friends.

The End.

American netizens are flocking to another Chinese App Xiaohongshu (Little Red Book). Will Xiaohongshu become the next Chinese social app banned in the US?

Technically speaking, the controversial “Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act” – which was tailor-made to ban TikTok – does apply to Rednote/Xiaohongshu as well.

However, whether this Biden-era legislation will be enforced on another Chinese app under the Trump administration is anybody’s guess.

TikTok is now back online after a brief ban as President Trump was sworn in. However, much like in the tale of Izanagi and Izanami in Japanese mythology, or Stephen King’s Pet Sematary, those who are brought back from the dead often become horrid and twisted manifestations of their former selves. Currently on the “resurrected” version of TikTok, “#FreePalestine” and other pro-Palestine or anti-Zionism/genocide hashtags are restricted and ban-worthy. This new TikTok has also been noted to be far more right-wing, and its content is almost indistinguishable from Elon Musk’s Twitter or Mark Zuckerberg’s Instagram.

What does this mean? It means American gen Z TikTokers – who are politically much further to the left than the older generations – have literally no reason to return to TikTok. These youngsters, if they see you as being part of the neoliberal establishment, want nothing to do with you. Do you understand?

They hate Israel, the US government, Meta and X with a burning passion. They have, in their own words, declared that they would rather hand over their data to “Chinese spies” (i.e. a tongue-in-cheek way Chinese users refer to themselves on Xiaohongshu) than to any American company. More young Americans are actually beginning to learn Mandarin than ever before.

They literally feel more at home on Xiaohongshu, a fully Chinese app. Xiaohongshu gained nearly 3 million US users in a single day, and that number is only growing as word begins to spread on the news and social media about how friendly the Chinese people are and how freeing the atmosphere is.

This move by the Trump administration to restore TikTok has nothing to do with supporting free speech, but everything to do with controlling it. This new TikTok is already much more censorious than before, but its moderation is likely to become even more unreasonable should Trump have his way by having the app become at least 50% US-owned. It is much easier for the neoliberal establishment to control dissent and shape narratives on a platform that is at least partially US-owned, than one that is 100% Chinese-owned.

The youths of America know this. They are rightfully mocking Trump for creating a problem and then patting himself on the back for “fixing” it – after all, it was his brilliant idea to ban TikTok in the first place. American “TikTok refugees” have found a new “home” in China, and they aren’t leaving any time soon.

What happens when the neoliberals fail to beat China fair and square? Well, they play dirty. Anything from declaring Chinese entities or products to be a threat to US national security (including things like Chinese refrigerators and garlic), to kidnapping a Chinese CEO’s family member (like they did with Huawei’s Meng Wanzhou).

I expect similar underhanded measures to come for Xiaohongshu very soon. There are already signs of something major in the works. Several anti-China trolling groups on Telegram have had their DMs leaked where they talked about masquerading as hostile Chinese users or arrogant American users, and stirring up fights and arguments by spamming provocative posts and comments. Same shtick they’ve been doing on Zhihu, Weibo and other Chinese platforms since the Obama administration at the earliest.

Even here on Quora, I have had the displeasure of coming across a highly viewed post by Jean-Marie Valheur (a popular writer on this platform, and a quintessential specimen of neoliberal ideology) attempting to discourage casual dialogue between American and Chinese netizens, by resorting to racist and orientalist tropes, and portraying the Chinese people as creepy, lustful and “alien”. It’s a very typical smear tactic known as “poisoning the well”. You can check my response to him in the link below.

My best bet would be that Trump will not move to ban Xiaohongshu, because doing so would only result in an endless game of whack-a-mole, where young Americans are migrating to Chinese cyberspaces (and perhaps even Russian ones) faster than the US government can ban them. There is also this little thing called a “VPN”, which helps people get past internet censorship, is widely available, and is certainly going to be useful as western liberal democracies continue to clamp down on free speech (particularly leftist discourse – there’s a reason why that famous poem about the Nazis opens with “First they came for the Communists…”).

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ape7cqKS_rE

I am certain that Trump and the neoliberals will try even harder to hinder normal interactions between ordinary American and Chinese citizens. And it is in these trying times when I feel inclined to remind everyone of a timeless piece of wisdom from decades ago –

‘Certain ties do exist between the Chinese people and the American people. Through their joint efforts, these ties may develop in the future to the point of the “closest friendship”. But the obstacles placed by the Chinese and U.S. reactionaries were and still are a great hindrance to these ties. Moreover, because the reactionaries of both countries have told many lies to their peoples and played many filthy tricks, that is, spread much bad propaganda and done many bad deeds, the ties between the two peoples are far from close.’ ~ Mao Zedong

We the people of the world have more in common than we realise. Remember that, and remember who your real enemies are.

He DIED & Saw The ELECTRIC GRID During His Near Death Experience

The stuff (belongings) ah, it comes and it goes. Don’t get too attached.

I’ve been doing a lot of reflection as of late.

Well, actually, I have always been a serious fella… a bit of a clown at times, but yeah, overly serious. Too serious. And so lately I have been a reflecting on things.

Stuff.

You know, us Americans (and many in the West), live in a “Capitalist based society” and that means the accumulation of things. And that also means that the things establish our identity. And as well, our relative importance.

For instance, back in High School, no girl in her “right mind” would date me driving a beat up car. Well, a few would. But, not many.

So, yeah. Car type matters.

Later, getting older, I was judged by what car I drove to work in. Oh, sure, I could drive the car that I owned, but it will affect my promotion prospects.

Same with the home.

Where you lived, the kind of house you lived in, and most importantly your neighborhood all factored into your value and worth.

Not just from your peers, but from your spouse as well.

And if you lost your job… a career nose dive was a real possibility, along with a divorce, and loss of just about everything you owned. S it’s high, high stress in The United States.

So to make us feel good, we bought things.

And the endless cycle began.

And at the end of a couple of decades of this…

… the forever hamster wheel. You realize just how empty the life of an American really is.

Glad I moved to China.

Find out what’s important to you, and guard it ferociously. My suggestion for all you gen Zoomies out there.

Today…

U.S.-China Trade War EXPLODES! Ports Jammed, Amazon Cancels Orders & Car Prices Skyrocket!

“America is sleepwalking into an economic defeat.”

🇺🇸🇨🇳 “America is sleepwalking into an economic defeat.”

In a recent discussion, New York Times columnists Ezra Klein and Thomas L. Friedman reveal a sobering truth: the U.S. is fighting a trade war with China without even understanding the China of today.

Across party lines, U.S. politicians now see China as the enemy — but they’re still clinging to 1990s fantasies: that China doesn’t innovate, only steals, and is decades behind. But ask American or European businesses operating in China, and they’ll tell you:

“We came here for the market. We stay for the innovation.”

Friedman warns that ideological hostility has made it politically toxic for U.S. officials to visit China or engage openly. Companies are afraid to hire Chinese talent. As a result, Americans are flying blind in a high-stakes conflict — deluded about the enemy’s strength and blind to their own vulnerabilities.

The communication window between China and the U.S. has narrowed dangerously. And instead of trying to understand a rising rival, Washington doubles down on fantasy, sanctions, and arrogance.

You cannot win an economic war against a country you refuse to understand.

Watch this if you care about peace, realism — and America’s future.

10 minute or so video
https://x.com/OopsGuess/status/1915280976386941416

If you don’t understand this topic and are curious this 10 minute excerpt video will bring you up to speed.

Posted by: LoveDonbass | Apr 24 2025 14:31 utc | 2

How can Europe honestly view its lifestyle as better than that of the United States?

I was actually in Europe for three weeks last October. A relative died and left me some money indicated for travel, so I went to Norway. I went in a modest way and budgeted carefully, because I am poor in the US. Not fully impoverished, because I have stable housing and a car, but poor, because I have been physically disabled since birth and my health is now so bad that I cannot work full-time.

The differences still stagger me.

The people selling knickknacks on the sidewalk all looked healthier than I am. They had better teeth than many of my fellow poor friends, all of whom work.

The trains, trams, and busses were all regular, inexpensive, and easy to access. The only time I had to have a car was while spending a week on the tiny island my family emigrated from. There was a bus, but the walk was farther than my disabled body could tolerate.

Even with my physical disabilities, I was able to.walk more than I ever have in my life. I could actually get around and still find areas to rest and recuperate.

I expected the prices to be higher, but they were only about 5–10% more than in the US. If I had not budgeted in special activities, I would have spent less overall, because I didn’t have health insurance payments or sin taxes.

I declined to get my sales taxes refunded, because I could see with my own eyes what my meager contribution was funding. I saw public works projects actually progressing! I also saw the clean and efficient public transportation, the cleanliness of the public commons, and the well-maintained roads. I didn’t feel like the taxes were a scam, because I knew what they were paying for.

I actually needed to go to the hospital after having a dystonic attack in Oslo airport. I cried and protested that I didn’t want to go, because I knew from American hospitals that there is no medical treatment for paroxysmal dyskinesia except low-dose anti-seizurals and time. I already owed my local ER $3500 (with monthly insurance) because I had had an ovarian cyst burst and could not stop screaming. The hospital is also uncomfortable at best – a writhing body on a gurney under incredibly bright lights, with the knowledge that you are going to be paying for months, is not conducive to rest. Imagine my shock when the room had comfortable lighting, the bed was comfortable, and the doctors and nurses looked at me like a patient instead of a nuisance. Imagine my shock when the full price bill worked out to $40.36.

I did not feel like complete strangers hated me and wanted me dead.

No one yelled a slur, insult, or come-on at me.

When I found myself talking to strangers, they were all genuinely curious and polite people. None of them tried to tell me what my life as a poor, disabled American was REALLY like because they had heard a news report saying my life was different.

The arrogant surety that other people are not the experts over their own lives was just not there. I hadn’t realized how intrinsic this is to the worst part of the American character until I didn’t have to deal with it.

I felt calm and peaceful and relaxed. I wished daily that I lived THERE and not HERE. Hell, I would honestly like nothing better than to grab my husband and our cats and emigrate right back to where Grandfather left.

Ben Norton: “China is the most sovereign country” – Understanding China & BRICS expansion

What’s it like to have cops that believed in armed citizens compared to the arrogant cop who told me he is prepared to confiscate my “illegal” guns banned by Trudeau?

It completely changes the tone of interacting with them.

Pulled over. Side of the road. He walks up, I already have the windows down. It’s storming.

Me: Before we even get started, I just want to point out my hands are on the steering wheel and I’m not reaching for anything. I’m wearing a handgun and there’s a cased rifle in the back seat. How do you want to proceed?

He glanced at the rifle case, returned his attention to me.

Him: Just leave it holstered. Your trailer lights are out. As loaded as you are, i couldn’t even see you from directly behind you. Can i have your drivers license and proof of insurance?

Me: It’s in the console. I’ll get it out. (Hands it to him)

Me: While you’re running that, do you mind if i get out and check the trailer? Lights were working when I left Colorado Springs.

Him: No. Go ahead.

Unplugging the cable and plugging it back in fixed the lights. I got back in. He walked back. Handed me the documents back.

Him: I see your fixed them. Be safe.

Me: Thanks for stopping me. Far preferable to being hit. Have a good evening.

And that was it. How different would it have been for you?

What was the best way you got revenge on a terrible customer?

It was the best thing ever, and I didn’t even do it on purpose.

I was running my shift, when I started hearing some talking on the drive thru speaker. It was faint, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I peeked outside to see if there was a car at the order box. Nope. Checked all the headsets to see if one was on and “open”. Another nope. It’s quiet again, so I think nothing of it and go on about my work.

About 10 minutes later, a male voice comes booming through the speaker, using very coarse language and making sexual comments. He’s loud enough to be heard in the dining room, where our Sunday after-church crowd is lunching. I immediately call an apology out into the now-silent dining room, and promise to take care of it as quickly as possible. I spoke over the headset, asking the man to please stop cursing, as this is a family friendly establishment, and was there something I could help him with.

This was met with laughter and more profanity. Looking out the window I saw them, parked in a pickup truck, CB in hand. They’d somehow used it to get into our drive thru intercom! I speak one more time, asking them to leave or the police will be called. More laughter, more obscenities. I call the police.

A patrol car arrives, and parks directly next to their truck (I’d given the police a description and plate number in case they left before police arrived). The men hand over their IDs, and the officer gets back in his car, moves it in front of their truck to block them in while he runs the IDs. He gets out, and the driver gets out. The officer pats him down, has him empty his pockets.

Another cruiser arrives as the first officer handcuffs the driver and puts him in his car! The second officer approaches the passenger and does the same! While officer #2 stayed outside with the cars, officer #1 came inside to inform me that both men were being arrested on unrelated warrants, and would also be facing charges of disturbing the peace! The dining room, which had gone silent again when the officer came inside, broke out in cheers and applause!

“I Wanted to Open Our Marriage — My Husband Flushed Our Wedding Rings Instead”

Yada Yada Yada

Sheech! If you don’t want to be married… Don’t do it.

Idiot!

Can you describe the experience of being a Vietnam veteran who served in the jungle?

I was with the First Cavalry in 1968–69 up on the Cambodian border north of Tay Ninh. We mostly ambushed while looking for large NVA bunker complexes. We did a lot of combat assaults and at one point were out for almost 90 days without coming in to one of our forward landing zones for a “stand down”!

we moved to a new ambush site almost every day and got into an ambush and at night, we would set up on a path and ambush them back.

We had contact twice a day.

We took killed and wounded but nowhere near what the NVA (North Vietnamese Army) would take.

We were dirty, smelled from not bathing, had fatigues that in some cases were torn into rags with our “rumps” hanging out! Our resupply, many times was “ kick out” because the chopper could not land.! The chopper flew low and fast over where we popped a smoke grenade and kicked supplies out the door trying to hit the smoke through triple canopy jungle! First came ammo and parts (radio batteries etc), then came C Rations and if the chopper was not raking too much fire from the bad guys, we got water kicked out!

If no water kick out, we had to find a stream or usually an old bomb crater that had “thick liquid” we could scrape away to find something drinkable.

Presweetened Koolaid helped with the taste. This was in areas heavily sprayed with Agent Orange! I bet most of us got cancers!

Finally, we would get word we were going in to a Firebase for a few days(usually three). We could bathe, get mail and packages from home, change out of the dirty torn uniforms, get hot meals and become HUMAN again.

I swear, there were times we looked so bad we scared our own people! No one messed with us! We had nothing to lose!

Then, load up (70+ pounds) and up on a chopper for another combat assault into the unknown where we knew nothing about the size of the unit we were looking for.

photo is me in an NVA bunker complex. My knee is next to the slit he fired at us from. Bamboo is chopped from bullets going through! Roof was reinforced with bamboo and dirt was like concrete!

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Asteroid Mining

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Ralph Straub

It’s always difficult to decide which asteroid to Harvest. Too much iron or ice and it’s worth less than one with some specific metals that are needed. I have been able to scan the common asteroids and register heavier elements. I Explored this cluster of rocks for a while, scanning, and the elements that are now coming up that don’t make sense. I want to find out more, but it’s a bit crowded for my ship to get in close.My ship is a typical Asteroid harvester. It’s big and round, like a giant basketball with clamps and directional thrusters around the equator. It’s been my home for almost 3 years. It allows me to grab a rock much bigger than itself and carry it to a launch point. Then one of the big market transport companies grabs it and sends it in-system to the breaker factories to disassemble the profitable parts and use them to build more things on the moons of Earth, Mars, Saturn or the many space stations that now litter the solar system.They say everything breaks down into simple repetitive tasks when you work. Boring travel from asteroid to asteroid just to find your “Motherlode” can take weeks. It’s really lonely. Just to travel between asteroid clusters is time consuming. It used to be thought that automated collectors could just grab the asteroids and bring them where the elements were needed. It worked, but the quality and discernment of human judgement and observation was better. If you just wanted ice or iron, send out the robots. If you want rare earths and trace minerals or even crystals that you can’t believe even exist, you need human beings. There are quite a few of us out here.With any luck you hit the “big one” and it gets you your retirement fund when it cashes in. I’ve been looking and so far, I break even at best. No gold or platinum. Maybe some beryllium, Neodymium, Indium and trace minerals. I guess I’m going to have to take a closer look at this cluster up front and in person with a handheld scanner and my old friend, the rock pick. You be surprised to see how similar this kind of mining is to the old gold rush days a few centuries ago. there’s even claim jumpers if, you can believe itYes, there are pirates of a sort that are too lazy to hunt for their own treasures and will just as soon take yours and your ship while they leave you to float in space. Mostly, it’s boring single miners or pairs that can stand each other for long periods of time hoping to cash in on that Motherlode.I guess this means I’ll need to leave the ship and go out into space to tap on one rock at a time. This is not as difficult as it sounds thanks to the modern jet pack. Miniature ion engines that slowly take you from rock to rock while you calculate the return on each one so you can pick the best one to go back with you. If you find a rich enough cluster, you can register the location in the central processing office and stake a claim. Then you can go back and pick the cluster dry if it will bring you a profit.I programmed the ship to stay in one place and I started to get into my space suit. Then I made sure the thruster pack was fully charged as well as loading the oxygen I’d need. I can make my own fuel and oxygen out here by finding an icy asteroid. My ship can break down ice into hydrogen fuel and oxygen. Any trace minerals just get sorted into useful additions to the hydroponics and algae tanks for food and biologic waste conversion. It’s where the nutrition processing takes place. The algae cultures are grown with the right balance of nutrients to keep you at peak health. Add flavor packets, dehydrate some of it, press it into “steaks” or mock poultry and you sometimes forget its all processed. The food manufacturers on Earth learned how to process just about anything way back in the 1950’s. Now we have machines that do it in every ship. It saved millions of lives during the global warming crisis. We don’t waste any waste out here or back on the home planet.I left the ship and started looking for the crazy readings I had in the ship scanners and began to weave through the mess of rocks. There! That way! I was acting like a bloodhound on the scent when I landed on one of the bigger asteroids in the cluster. The slightest extra push will send me flying into space, so I moved very slowly and carefully using a slight downward thrust to keep me grounded. Waving my scanner to get a better sense of direction. It seemed to be just under the dust ahead.There is very little gravity on these rocks, so, my movements forward were slow and precise. Then I was standing on some irregular shaped pieces of strange metal and started to move away from the sharpest ones. Oh, yes, this was a find. Rare earths, interesting composites that were probably made in a sun hundreds of light years away or even in the aftermath of a supernova.

It took time and a lot of hard work, but I finally Isolated the find and strapped it to my ship. It was a lot bigger than I originally thought. It was more than one piece, and I had difficulty trying to figure out what to do with the organic compounds I found, so I put them in with the recyclers. The algae seemed to love them. The food they produced seemed to add extra energy to my step and somehow my mind was sharper than ever.

No one is going to believe the variety and mixtures of the elements I found. I don’t even quite believe it. It’s not every day you find an alien ship crash site and collect the technology that might just get humans to other star systems and galaxies. These engines I collected are really something. The power source was gone, but one of them lit right up when I tapped into the cold fusion plant. I’m definitely going to be rich on this find.

Taco Lasagna

Yield: 10 to 12 servings

Ingredients

2 pounds ground beef
2 (1.25 ounce) packages taco seasoning mix
4 cloves pressed garlic
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 1/2 cups water
1 tablespoon cornmeal
2 (10 to 12 count) packages corn tortillas
1 (24 ounce) jar salsa
1 cup sliced green onions
16 ounces sour cream mixed with 1 tablespoon chili powder
3 cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese, divided
3 cups shredded Cheddar cheese, divided

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
In large saucepan, cook beef until brown and drain well. Add taco seasoning, garlic, pepper and water. Simmer uncovered for 10 minutes. Set aside.
Sprinkle cornmeal in bottom of 9 x 13 inch Baker. Place 6 tortillas in bottom of pan overlapping and extending up edges slightly.
Layer in following order:1 cup salsa
1/2 of meat mixture (2 cups)
1/2 cup green onions
1 cup sour cream mixture
2 cups combined cheese
Repeat starting again with 6 tortillas, salsa, meat, green onions, sour cream and 2 cups of cheese.
Bake for 40 minutes.
Remove and sprinkle with remaining cheese.
Bake an additional 10 minutes or until cheese is melted.
Let stand 10 minutes before serving.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

What is China’s current fighter jet production capacity across all facilities?

Question: What is China’s current fighter jet production capacity across all facilities?

Answer:

That’s a complicated question.

First of all, there is not really any official announcement regarding to the matter. Any number you see online is strictly guesswork, thus can be quite far from reality.

Second, capacity and actual production are two entirely different thing. Considering the Chinese military budget is a tiny 1.7% of GDP and it has 45% of the planet’s industry’s capacity, it is quite safe to say the Chinese are not at all running anywhere near full capacity.

Third, specific technology-wise, it is theorized that the most advanced Chinese fighters (such as J-20) were not really produced in full force due to the Chinese engine development program is still ongoing (this changed in 2024, since WS-15 is now officially in service).

With all these in mind, it is estimated at least 100 J-20 has been delivered to PLAAF in the year of 2023.

https://www.sohu.com/a/750419358_121469653

So we are probably looking at between 100~150 J-20 to PLAAF per year, similar number of J-16 and a smaller number of J-15. Part of the J-15 capacity is probably going to be swapped to J-35 once the testing phase are done.

No, about 300~400 fighters per year is not at all small. Because modern fighter generally has a lifespan at least 20~30 years, which means you would are looking at a fleet of 6000~12000 modern fighters.

Just for comparison purpose, the USAF has approximately 5,500 combat aircraft right now. USSR air force, at its height, has about 10,000 combat aircraft.

Of course, there is a bit more details into the whole estimation work, such as currently we do have a mix of fifth generation and fourth generation mostly due to fifth generation fighters are not designed to entirely replace the fourth generation (most due to stealth requirement limiting the fighter size and functionality), so you got concurrent production of both generations.

This may change when the six generation aircraft comes along, which, in theory, is supposed to completely replace fifth and fourth generation fighter.

Again, everything here is guess work.

And to nip one thing in the bud, it is not at all strange that China, have far bigger industry capacity than either US or USSR at their respective heights, would have a comparable and slightly bigger air force size. Yes, it does hurt many people’s ego and feelings, but logically, nations with stronger industry and economy have better equipment is nothing surprising.

Scott Ritter : Does the West Understand just how bad they’ve been beaten?

Is Russia’s economy currently collapsing? What factors contribute to Russia’s abundance of natural resources?

Hurray, Potemkin Christmas decorations around Kremlin, Putin’s seat of power! We fight West but let’s decorate the city as if it were a Western European capital. Barbarians who fought Roman Empire wanted to be Roman more than anything else.

A glittering carousel surrounded by darkened Soviet era office buildings.

The fancy shopping street but many luxury brands have left after the war with the West had begun.

The sham is surreal. Millions of rubles have been spent to make a quasi-European shopping and Christmas fair ground for Muscovites and tourists from China and Middle East to take photos and post on social networks.

A Pushkin’s fairy tale about the golden fish and the greedy fisherman’s wife who kept making new demands until she decided to become a Goddess and golden fish punished her by putting her back into the fisherman hut’s squalor “with the broken basin.” It is a story of Putin’s corruption from power, and blue and yellow design colors symbolize Ukraine that has put him back in his place.

Hermès shuttered the doors to rich Russian customers but they flock to France to stock up on luxuries.

In contrast many Italian luxury brands have stayed in.

Glühwein and candies on sale at 50% discount.

Europe has abondaned us but we have not abondaned Europe – that’s the message that the city hall located just across the street is broadcasting to the world.

Dior has left but the signs have not been removed as if expecting them to return any day now.

The red woolen Christmas tree decoration structure advertises shopping and sightseeing in Moscow.

There are long sharp spikes on the rooftops of this church to prevent pigeons from sitting on the ledges.

Prosecutor General’s office on the right and shuttered Gucci shop where prosecutors used to shop for presents for their wives and mistresses.

Marriott hotel has lost letter R. It has been marred by association with Putin’s murderous regime.

Stern faced security guards stared at me from every entrance as I took photos of the street with my phone.

While foreigners shop in GUM on Red Square, Russian fashionistas prefer department store Tzum. Orange carton shopping bags with black box design are instantly recognized as a top status symbol. Every woman in Moscow wishes to carry such bag through the streets and make everyone around envious.

Winter in Moscow is the municipal brand that wants to pretend that business is as usual and nothing has changed in the relations with the West.

Russian translation of the English slogan is in tiny letters. Because who cares what it means. It’s in English. The language of business and cool consumer goods.

Sickly yellow lights are on display block after block.

A couple snuggling up in a coffee shop with an English name.

“Made in Moscow.” Mayor Sobyanin markets his city as separate entity from the rest of the country.

Fun in the snow. Girlfriends are taking selfies of each other.

What are your thoughts on Chinese actor Wang Xing being kidnapped and trafficked to a scam compound in Myanmar?

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Myanmar is a region of warlords and chaotic public order.
“Fishermen” sit in Burma with fishing rods, but their “hooks” and “bait” are cast towards China.
Chinese people are accustomed to China’s safe environment and lack vigilance. Wang Xing had several chances to escape but missed them due to lack of vigilance.
Money does not grow on trees. Ordinary people don’t have so many opportunities to get rich overnight. We need to be realistic.
The reason why the Myanmar telecommunications fraud park was able to grow so quickly is because a large number of Chinese investors have invested in it. A Chinese man from Guangdong nicknamed “Golden Tiger” is an investor in “Apollo Brilliant Company”. He registered Apollo Brilliant Company in Myanmar, paid protection fees to the local government, and waited for dividends. The Guangdong man has been arrested by Chinese police. The “Apollo Brilliant Company” that deceived Wang Xing this time is an intermediary, located in the middle of this telecommunications fraud industry chain, responsible for connecting the upstream park and the downstream victims. If the Chinese police can identify all the Chinese investors in Myanmar and focus on them, it will be a good clue to solve the
China does not interfere in the internal affairs of other countries. The most the Chinese government can do is ask Myanmar to cooperate in eradicating the telecommunications fraud park. It is not realistic for the Chinese police or PLA to enter Myanmar to eradicate the telecommunications fraud park, as it is easy to be criticized by the West. Of course, the families of the victims can organize themselves, set up NGOs, call for public and corporate donations, set up civilian military companies in Myanmar in the name of NGOs, form a elite mercenary force of hundreds of people, purchase weapons on the black market, and directly use force to liberate Myanmar’s telecommunications fraud park. The Democratic Karen Buddhist Army (DKBA) is small, with only one or two thousand people, and has four brigades under its jurisdiction: the 333rd, 555th, 777th, and 999th. It is very short of experienced personnel and its weapons and equipment are very backward. The mercenaries equipped with drones and robot dogs can easily defeat them. If the Myanmar government knew about it, the Chinese government could also explain it as being unaware and that it was a non-governmental action by the NGOs. Since criminals can register telecommunications fraud companies in Myanmar, it is only natural for the victims’ families to set up civilian military companies in Myanmar to save themselves. Myanmar is a chaotic region without order and law. Whoever has the stronger fist has the final say. The US government is very good at using NGOs to do bad things, and the Chinese can learn a little from this. There are also many private military companies in the United States, such as Blackwater, which can do many things that are inconvenient for government forces to solve. It’s just that it’s best to disband on the spot after the mission is completed. Don’t stay there and become a warlord, harming the local people. 😅😅😅 The remnants of the Kuomintang caused havoc in Burma for so many years, and later formed the Golden Triangle. This example must not be repeated.
If the telecommunications fraud park continues to do evil, I think the Chinese government can call on the United Nations to define it as a “terrorist organization”, so that the Chinese police or the People’s Liberation Army will have sufficient reasons to enter Myanmar in the name of “anti-terrorism” to eliminate the telecommunications fraud park. This matter needs to be known by more people in order to win the attention of international public opinion.

The Myanmar fraud park is located in the sphere of influence of the Democratic Karen Buddhist Army (DKBA).

DKBA members, in addition to Buddhists, some soldiers are actually monks in the temple. Worshiping Buddha and killing, as well as pornography, gambling, drugs and fraud, do not seem to constitute a big contradiction or psychological barrier in their eyes.

Indian experts say access to China’s supply chain is a must, but will Chinese companies ever invest in this country again?

I am Chinese, I will answer this question with my own experience in India.

Around 2017-2018, China’s internet industry was still booming, and India was considered a vast untapped market by many Chinese internet companies. At that time, not only internet companies but also many VC funds and startups went to India to seek opportunities. My job was to work as a consultant, providing advisory services to these Indian companies to help them better connect with Chinese investors.

Things changed dramatically in 2020 when India banned TikTok and all Chinese apps. This incident served as a warning to Chinese enterprises, and no one was interested in discussing investment opportunities in India anymore. At the same time, India canceled all visas for Chinese citizens, and no Chinese nationals were allowed to enter India, including Chinese students. Chinese people in India were also required to leave immediately. Indian visas have not been restored to their previous level, but no one seems to care anymore.

The Chinese company that invested the most in India is Xiaomi, but how has India treated Xiaomi? They required Xiaomi to hire Indian executives, demanded that Xiaomi transfer its technology to India, and did not allow Xiaomi to repatriate its profits. They used various means to fine Xiaomi, even if the legal basis for those fines was established later. Xiaomi’s experience has become a joke in China, with everyone mocking Xiaomi’s foolish strategy. They didn’t make money in India and were slaughtered by the Indian government. The experiences of Xiaomi and TikTok in India are not isolated cases.

Another well-known case among all Chinese people in India is that Anil Ambani owes three Chinese banks $717 million in unpaid loans. From our own real experience, our Indian clients first asked for discounts on the payments they owed, then requested installment payments, and as a result, the payment never happen after several years. We have since abandoned all business in India. Once, local government officials in China asked us about investment opportunities in India, and we explicitly told them not to do it, as India is a trap.

Dangerous Travel: Safety When Traveling The United States?

MM AI artwork

This time I am experimenting with Ancient Greek, and Roman scenes.

SDXL 09 Create a anatomicallyaccurate photo realistic Baroques 1

SDXL 09 Create a anatomicallyaccurate photo realistic Baroques 0

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AlbedoBase XL Create a anatomicallyaccurate photo realistic Ba 1(3)

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A fight for light

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story set in a world of darkness where light is suddenly discovered.… view prompt

Anirudh Raja

‘Log 21. Recorded on Janeri Prime, 421 A.S. My team of 10 miners, an ophthalmologist, a geochemist, and an experimental physicist is continuing scientific research into the myths of a fifth sense called “solem convenire cum suelen” in an ancient language of humans called latin, it translates to “The sun meets the ground” otherwise known as vision, we Aetherians have developed improved senses in the absence of light that somewhat compensate for vision. The only source of light in this world that is remaining are the rare occurrences of lightning strikes, as all species of this world have evolved from bioluminescence. Our expeditions have taken us nowhere. The allegations of helio-archaeologists being fanatics in pursuit of a quixotic dream are further proven right. We have excavated this place to the center, and no progress has been made. We are continuing to undergo this mining mission in Endo-novia, called Indonesia in the old world, the place that was theorised to have experienced the strongest ray of sunlight along the equator in the last seconds before the supernova. Mission specialist, Dr. Tavian Solen, geoarchaeologist signing out. Hail Lord Magnus Atris of Ja-Katris.’The scientist gently slipped the digital recorder back into his pocket, and then resumed bellowing at the exhausted miners to work till their last breath.The mine was atrociously repulsive. Every centimeter was as wet as a sponge. It was like being in the mouth of a Narwhale scientifically dubbed “Cetacius Monoceros”, the convergent evolution of the prehistoric Narwhal and Whale, with every corner riddled with a naked-mole bat, otherwise known as the “Heterocephalus petra”.‘Take a break, we won’t get any work done like this’ conceded Dr.TavianSuddenly a streak of divine substance bolted from one corner of the cave, elucidating the whole place, opening them to another sense. The ephemeral flash departed as abruptly as it emerged, just like a thunderbolt. The whole team stood absolutely shellshocked for a second, and then-‘My eyes’ a miner cried‘They’re burning, get water’One of the other miners promptly scooped a bucket of water from a nearby stream in the cave.‘What just happened?’ asked Dr. Tavian‘Sir, could you take a look at this once?’ asked another miner

‘I think I found a stone’

Dr. Tavian approached the miner and then examined the stone with his eyes, it possessed a shade of mustard yellow, and a dirty brown.

‘Everybody block your eyes’

He gently tapped the stone, and then the same streak appeared, emanating from the now blistering orange-ish red stone.

‘I dub this Luxium’

‘How do we mine it if our eyes burn, everytime its touched’ asked a miner

‘Any thoughts?’ asked Dr. Tavian to his team of scientists

‘We could excavate the whole rock around it’ said the geochemist, Darius Gale

‘That’s too much load, considering that there may be more behind this single vein.’ said Dr. Tavian

‘We could re-engineer the mining goggles to block the light out’ said the ophthalmologist, Lucan Viridus

‘Do we have the resources to do it?’ asked Dr. Tavian

‘We can make the lens using the quartz that we found earlier, and then suspend the stone in midair in one of the pressurised chambers that we got, so it does not activate’ said the experimental physicist, Eris Solen

‘You came up with the best idea, daughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Luke bring out your thing.’ said Dr Tavian

‘That thing is capable of any precise mechanical function, and has a name. Molder’

‘Yeah sure. Molder’ said Dr. Tavian

Lucan whipped out an ingenious piece of machinery from his supply bag. The device opened up like a chest. Lucan placed the quartz in the chest, and then typed “concave lens : 8 cm radius” into a module. He closed the chest for five minutes then the lens was ready like food in a microwave, once he opened it.

‘This should be able to block most of the light when extracting the stone, once you extract it drop it in this pressurised chamber. Here, Linus.’ said Lucan, while handing it to one of the miners.

Everybody closed their eyes and Linus began his extraction of the stone. After attaining it, he dropped it in the chamber, and watched as it returned to its deactivated state in the midair

‘Here it is’ said Linus, holding it up like a trophy.

‘The fruit of our labor’

Linus then passed the container around for a while, the stone let out just a sliver of light, enough to see, due to the pressure from all sides of the box.

THUMP A boulder suddenly fell, enough to tip the fragile support that the cave stood on. The boulder blocked the way they came from. The ceiling and ground started to shake rapidly, as water flooded the surroundings of the cave from a crack that the boulder made in the wall.

‘There’s an opening in the roo-’ said a miner before getting squashed by the unpredictably moving boulder.

The water began to rise at a concerning rate while the team was still trying to figure out what to make of the situation.

‘Everybody be calm’ said Dariuus

‘We can all make it out, first get the stone out. Linus, get it to safety. Use the hooked rope to climb out’ said Lucan while pointing at the hole that the late miner revealed.

Linus made it out with the stone tightly clenched in his right arm. He then lent his hand out to the next survivor.

‘Father, you next’ said Eris

‘No, you three are the most important. Get out now!’ said Dr. Tavian

Darius readying up to ascend the rope next, he grasped it and started pulling at it.

‘You dropped your comms’ said Lucan.

‘Forget it, just get up’ said Darius.

‘Eris go’ said Lucan.

While Eris was making her way up, Lucan swam to the comms and tucked it in his zipped pocket.

‘Luke, now’ said Darius

Lucan was the next to make it up.

All three of them made it to safety with all of their supplies but then the boulder started accelerating, and started to thicken and elevate the water, increasing the pressure. The now floating miners began to scramble, all trying to climb the rope at the same time. Dr. Tavian was ahead of them on the rope, and reached his hand out.

‘Here father’ said Eris

‘I’m almost there’ said Dr. Tavian while grasping his daughter’s hand and then SQUELCH. The boulder successfully descended the cave, and massacred the doctor, and the rest of its miners on its way. His only daughter was left with only his hand as a reminder of him.

‘Dad’ cried Eris.

‘I doubt that he died with any regrets, having left his legacy with you’ said Lucan

‘He was an innate leader’ said Linus

Everybody took a moment to honor the lost. The pause lasted for five minutes until Darius broke the silence.

‘We have to make a move, they will be expecting us some time soon. The hand, leave it or keep it but I don’t want to see it’ said Darius

‘Back off, she just lost her father. We’ll start when she’s ready’ said Lucan

‘It’s alright. I’m ready Luke’ said Eris

‘I can smell fresh air, somewhere from here.’ said Darius

‘We move there’ said Darius while pointing to the creek that shone upwards towards the left.

The group tediously hiked their way up to the creek, and steadily made their way to the surface, surviving on the scarce rations of food

‘We’re finally here’ said Lucan

‘Send a message to the Lord’s office, Luke’ said Darius

‘There is no service, I can’t establish a connection between the city and my comms’ said Lucan

‘We can ask that bystander.’ said Eris while pointing at a single person on a tractor in the empty farmland that they appeared in.

Eris started waving and edging towards him, causing the others to follow along, until she finally approached.

‘Sir, how far are we from Ja-Katris?’ asked Eris.

‘It should be right across a mushroom forest that should appear about 60 flicks from here. For the right price, I can take you there.’ said the bystander.

‘Melargee forest?’ asked Darius.

‘Yeah’ said the bystander

‘How much do we have?’ asked Darius to Lucan

‘We have about 100 credits’ said Lucan. ‘How much do you cost?’.

‘100 credits exactly’ said the bystander.

‘Just give it, we don’t have enough time to negotiate.’ said Darius to Lucan

The bystander drove them up to the forest.

‘I’m pretty sure that there is better service here’ said the bystander

‘How? Its a forest, where would you find cell towers’ said Lucan

‘It seems that the mushrooms have some weird constantly vibrating frequency, and before you go, here’s some food to last you through, I can’t let a hungry man go on an empty stomach’ said the bystander before retreating back to his farmland.

The bystander handed them a basket of apples.

‘Thank you for your hospitality.’ said Eris.

The four troopers then edged their way into the heart of the forest to set up camp there.

‘What’s in the box he gave us?’ asked Linus ‘We haven’t eaten anything since the cave.’

‘We have a few apples, and some melons.’ said Eris.

‘Guys, our comms are finally back online.’ said Lucan ‘Darius, why do you have a message from Lord Atris?’

‘I thought I lost my comms in the cave. Just give me-’ said Darius restlessly while running towards Lucan.

The recording sent to Darius initiated.

‘Congratulations Darius, you eliminated the team. Return back with the Luxium and claim your prize back at the palace. Their markers have been erased. The rest of the surviving scientists must not know that I wish to use the stone as a weapon to turn my temporary reign into a permanent one. They are still needed to refine the Luxium to its true potential. Keep up the charade and come back immediately, Lord Magnus Atris signing out.’.

Darius nervously froze. His plan didn’t pan out the way that he wanted.

‘It’s not what you think.’ said Darius.

‘Then what is it?’ said Lucan.

‘It’s just, he said-’ struggled Darius while picking up one of the fiery logs from the bonfire. Darius then started swinging the fiery log in Lucan’s direction but then SWISH.

Linus impaled Darius with the hook before he was able to make the move.

‘What just happened?’ said Eris.

‘Linus’s survival instincts kicked in, that’s what.’ said Lucan.

‘I had a feeling about that guy from the start. He was pretty unnerving.’ said Linus.

‘What do we do about the Luxium now?’ asked Lucan.

‘We can’t just disappear off the grid with it. Magnus would find us with such a big infantry.’ said Eris.

‘He’ll also probably know about Darius’s death by now, considering the fact that he placed unknown markers in all of us.’ said Lucan.

‘We could expose him.” said Linus.

‘The message was a one-time audio’ said Lucan.

The remainder of the team spent all night devising the perfect plan to expose the true plans of Lord Magnus Atris to the public of Ja-Katris.

At the dawn of the cycle, they started making their way to the borders of Ja-Katris, and by noon they had reached. The team assumed a position of stealth to gauge the surroundings, hiding behind one of the large mushrooms between Melargee forest and Ja-Katris.

‘Do we go now?’ asked Eris.

‘Alright.’ said Lucan.

The three then surrendered themselves in handcuffs to the authorities. The personal guard of Magnus Atris then took them to a secluded royal room, with Magnus Atris awaiting them.

‘I didn’t expect you guys to turn yourselves in that easily. Seems like you chickened out. Boys check ‘em.’ said Magnus

‘This won’t end well for you.’ said Lucan.

‘Oh also, do you want to know how Darius caused the boulder, over the expedition, he placed timed bombs eventually causing the cave to be waterlogged, and a boulder to fall out of one of the holes he had made. I actually came up with the idea. It’s amazing. Isn’t it?’ said Magnus

‘You’re diabolical.’ said Linus.

‘Well, you aren’t supposed to be alive, but I’ll let you live for a little while’ said Magnus

The soldiers entirely stripped the heroes of their supplies, and switched all their active devices off.

‘Did you find the stone?’ asked Magnus

‘This one?’ asked a soldier, holding up the pressurised chamber.

‘Yes. This one. Ohh, it’s beautiful.’ said Magnus while releasing it from the chamber. Magnus held it in his hand like a trophy in its blinding glory for just a second due to his eyes beginning to cry like a waterfall. He immediately dropped it back in the chamber

‘Do you even feel any remorse after killing your own people?’

‘No, of course not. If that pest, Tavian had lived, he would have wanted it to be used for the betterment of society.’ said Magnus

‘What are you gonna use it for now?’ asked Lucan

‘I thought you heard the recording. Nevermind, let me repeat. I’m going to use it to make the whole of Ja-Katris bend to my will under the threat of being vaporised by the Luxium at a high concentration. Basically blackmail the citizens. I deserve this after suffering as a leader in a democracy. What use is power if not to be corrupted.’ said Magnus

‘To be responsible, to be truthful to the people who placed it on you, such as the rest of the team.’ said Eris.

‘How is that useful to me?’ said Magnus rhetorically

‘You’re done.’ said Lucan.

‘You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know-’

‘Shut up.’ said Lucan ‘Can you hear the rumbling outside? Those are the people of Ja-Katris. Every word you said here was heard on every radio in this city.

‘Someone, get a radio.’ said Magnus

One of the soldiers handed him a radio from a nearby room

‘Put it on the main channel’ said Lucan

Magnus turned it on and the radio echoed ‘Put it on the main channel’.

‘How?’ asked Magnus in despair.

‘We implanted the comms device in the Luxium’

‘You can barely look at it. How is that possible?’

‘The molder. You give it any instruction for a precise mechanical function, and it does it’ said Lucan

‘The what?’ asked Magnus.

‘An ingenious piece of machi-. You know what, forget it.’ said Lucan

The doors finally cracked open, and the whole room could hear the raging crowd downstairs.

‘Go meet them’ said Eris

How did Singapore develop so much so quickly from the poor 3rd world to the rich 1st world?

If today, you are given a poor country to run with approximately 1.89 million mouths to feed and its means of living depending on the port operation for loading and unloading, trading, fishing, small businesses and manufacturing of textiles which are the sources of income… How far can you see the future of such a country?

1 year? 3 years or 5 years to be buried 20,000 ft in the ocean.

That sounded like Singapore in 1965 when it was left to do or die and with a little help with water and day-to-day commodities from the big bad brother- Malaysia.

How did Singapore develop so much so quickly from the poor 3rd world to the rich 1st world?

That is a grandmother’s old story everyone already knows.

By April 2025, does the Chinese government believe that it is impossible to have meaningful and productive discussions with the US government, which is why it is moving to a full cut of trade ties with the US?

Here’s a factoid that may be surprising to some.

The Korean war, a 20th century conflict fought in the early 1950s, is still an active conflict today, in the 21st century.

Why do I say that?

Remember this shot that made waves around the world?

Donald stepped into North Korea at Panmunjom with Kim, following the historic signing of the Panmunjom Declaration between the Koreas, committing to bring an end to the Korea War.

It is the year 2025. There is still no peace treaty, and the fragile calm of the peninsula is still being held together by the 1953 armistice.

The 3rd generation of the Kim leadership is still resisting, saying no to America when it imposes unilateral terms on the North.

It is the same with china. We are confronting the tariffs you are imposing on us. We are rejecting them permanently, and we will push back until either you give up, or one of us falls.

In other words, no means no. A unilateral tariff regime that tears up the heart of the WTO’s MFN formulation must not be wielded as a negotiation tactic. The Chinese learned from the Phase One trade deal, which brought nothing but grief. China is the number one problem for america today, a challenger that must be taken down, by hook or crook.

Beijing’s calculus is “can we make a deal to bring some respite”? And the answer is no, with bipartisan support for a full court press against the full spectrum of Chinese interests. The Americans will not stop until they either break up china, or obtain guarantees that will keep it down longterm, a la Bretton Woods and the Plaza Accords.

Beijing decided fine. Since a confrontation is unavoidable, let’s make a stand here. There is enough water under the bridge for the Chinese public to understand and support the decision. Besides, the chip ban shock, asset bubble contraction and covid were far harsher tests, and the Chinese overcame the challenges with steely discipline and ingenuity.

China wants america to stop the nonsense and come to the table as a fellow member of the WTO.

In other words, a normal trade negotiation between normal countries.

But if america insists on being special, it will be treated specially, in the only language it understands.

Pepe Escobar : I’m gonna MAGA you, baby!

This,

Image source: Web/Google

In 2015, one day a school boy named Amit was going to school. On the way he was hit by a car. Amit was bleeding, he needed immediate medical help but that car driver didn’t even stop and he didn’t feel to take Amit to nearby hospital. Amit was lying on the road, some people came and took him to a hospital but unfortunately he died. Amit’s dad Jitendra ji came to see his son and he was shocked to know about his little child is no more. Amit’s mom was in deep grief. In just a moment a happy family was shattered.

Image source: Web/Google

Jitendra ji filed a complaint but the police didn’t investigate. They even closed the case without informing Jitendra ji. This was ridiculous!

Jitendra ji and his wife just wanted to know his son’s killer. They wanted to question that man why he left Amit alone to die, he could have been saved if he was taken to hospital on time. They just wanted a Sorry. Was that so difficult??

Jitendra ji decided he will find that man who killed his beloved son. On the accident spot, he found a broken rear mirror and a broken car number plate. Car number was not full, but on the mirror there was a number. He asked from the local service centre but every time he got dissappointment. One day with hell lot of efforts a mechanic told him that this mirror is of a Maruti Car. Jitendra ji went to the manufacturing unit of the Maruti cars. He told his story and there people helped him. With the mirror number he managed to find the car registration number and with registration number he found the car owner’s name – Gyan Chand. It took 8 years for Jitendra ji to find the real culprit.

He went to police again with all the proofs and now again police disappointed him by not filing the complaint. He then moved to court and here also he didn’t get justice, his plea was rejected not just once but 4 times repeatedly. In Jan 2023, he again appealed to court for the 5th time. This time court accepted his request and asked the police to re-open the case but till now no arrest has been made.

Jitendra ji fought 8 years to find all the evidence and the person who killed his son. He is still fighting for the justice and he has told that he will fight till his last breath untill and unless his son’s killer get punished.

This story is deeply heartbreaking…….

Image source: Web/Google

I Salute Jitendra Ji from the bottom of my heart🙏

Amit would be Proud of his Dad❤

**Update : On 21st Oct 2023, Police has arrested the accussed, Gyan Chand.

Spicy Tomato Fettuccine

Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients

8 ounces fettuccine, cooked
2 ounces turkey bacon
1 large onion
4 or 5 large tomatoes, peeled and seeded
2 tablespoons fresh parsley
2 teaspoons olive oil
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 teaspoon basil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Parmesan cheese

Instructions

Cook pasta according to package directions. Keep warm.
Fry bacon until crisp on 11 inch griddle; drain and set aside.
Chop onions and tomatoes with food chopper.
Snip parsley using kitchen cutters.
Heat olive oil and stir-fry skillet. Press garlic with garlic press into skillet. Stir-fry 15 seconds.
Add onion. Stir-fry 2 to 3 minutes. Add tomatoes, parsley, and seasoning to skillet.
Gently stir 3 to 4 minutes until thoroughly heated.
Remove from heat and serve over pasta. Grate fresh Parmesan cheese over top.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

13 Human Mind Psychology That Can Change Your Life Completely

People may forget what you said, but they’ll always remember how you made them feel.
Overthinking doesn’t solve problems — it only creates new ones in your mind.
The things you fear the most often lead you to the biggest growth.
Happiness doesn’t come from outside — it starts in your mind.
When you truly love and respect yourself, others start doing the same.
Forgiving someone sets you free more than it helps them.
Life won’t always go as you planned, and that’s perfectly okay.
Negative people slowly drain your peace — choose your circle wisely.
A heart full of gratitude turns even little things into blessings.
Whatever you repeatedly tell your mind, it starts to believe.
Failing doesn’t mean you’re weak — it means you’re trying.
Never make important decisions when you’re angry or upset.
Life is too short to fake it — be real, be you.

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Curious Case of the Beatnik Cat

Ah, dear reader, it is with great excitement (and a touch of bewilderment) that I welcome you back to yet another one of my extraordinary adventures. Today’s tale is a peculiar mix of intergalactic diplomacy, existential poetry, and an unexpected encounter with a most unconventional feline. Yes, that’s right—Captain Meowtronic of the Intergalactic Feline Federation has returned to our humble farm, and this time, he’s brought with him a mystery so baffling that even I, Sir Whiskerton, was momentarily left scratching my head. So settle in, dear reader, and prepare yourself for the hilarity-filled tale of Sir Whiskerton and the Curious Case of the Beatnik Cat.

A Familiar Visitor

It was a quiet evening on the farm. The chickens were roosting, the cows were chewing their cud, and I was perched on my favorite fencepost, watching the stars twinkle in the night sky. All was calm—until a sudden flash of light lit up the barnyard.

“Not again,” I muttered, shielding my eyes with a paw.

Sure enough, a sleek, chrome-plated spaceship descended gracefully onto the farm, its engines humming softly. The hatch opened with a dramatic hiss, and out stepped none other than Captain Meowtronic, resplendent in his glittering silver uniform.

“Sir Whiskerton!” he called, his whiskers twitching with urgency. “We meet again!”

“Captain Meowtronic,” I said, hopping down from the fence. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We have a situation,” he said gravely. “A new kind of cat has been discovered, and the Federation is at a loss. We’ve never encountered anything like it. We need your help to figure out what… or who… this cat is.”

“A new kind of cat?” I said, intrigued. “Well, you’ve come to the right feline. Lead the way.”

The Beatnik Cat Appears

I followed Captain Meowtronic into his spaceship, where he led me to a small, dimly lit room. There, sitting on a cushion and bopping his head to an invisible beat, was the strangest cat I’d ever seen.

He was lanky, with a black beret perched jauntily on his head and a pair of round sunglasses balanced on his nose. A set of bongo drums sat in front of him, and he tapped them rhythmically with his paws as he muttered under his breath.

“Dig it, man,” the cat said, his voice low and smooth. “The stars, they shimmer like cosmic vibes, ya dig? I’m just a cool cat groovin’ to the universal beat.”

I blinked. “What… is he talking about?”

“That’s the problem,” Captain Meowtronic said, throwing up his paws. “He speaks in riddles, recites nonsensical poetry, and refuses to engage in any meaningful way. We’ve run every test, and all we’ve learned is that he calls himself ‘Jazzpurr.’”

“Jazzpurr?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, man,” the cat said, looking up at me. “Jazzpurr, the feline beatnik. The paws that tap, the whiskers that vibe, the soul that jives. You dig?”

I stared at him, utterly baffled. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“I assure you, it is not,” Captain Meowtronic said. “We’ve never encountered a cat like this before. He doesn’t adhere to any of our protocols. He doesn’t even groom properly! Sir Whiskerton, you must help us make sense of this… anomaly.”

Introducing Jazzpurr to the Farm

After much deliberation (and some convincing on Jazzpurr’s part, which mostly involved an impromptu bongo solo), I decided to bring him back to the farm. If anyone could figure out what to make of him, it was the other animals.

The moment we arrived, the farmyard erupted into chaos.

“What is that?!” Doris the hen squawked, flapping her wings.
“That! Oh, it’s so strange!” Harriet clucked.
“Strange! I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

“It’s a cat,” I said, rolling my eyes. “A very… peculiar cat.”

Jazzpurr tipped his beret to the hens. “Ladies, ladies, no need to squawk. I come in peace, spreading vibes and rhythms, ya dig?”

“What’s he talking about?” Porkchop the pig asked, waddling over with a confused look on his face.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said.

Jazzpurr pulled out his bongos and began tapping them softly. “The mud, it squelches beneath the trotters. A pig in the muck, a groove in the soul. Oink, oink, baby.”

Porkchop blinked. “Uh… thanks?”

Jazzpurr’s Farm Adventures

Over the next few days, Jazzpurr made himself at home on the farm. He quickly became a source of both amusement and confusion for the other animals.

One morning, I found him sitting in the chicken coop, reciting poetry to the hens.

“The egg, man,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “The egg is the cosmic cradle of life. It’s like… whoa.”

“Oh, Jazzpurr!” Doris clucked. “Your words are so… profound!”
“Profound! But also confusing!” Harriet added.
“Confusing! I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

Later, I caught him in the barn, teaching Rufus the dog how to play the bongos.

“You gotta feel the rhythm, man,” Jazzpurr said, tapping a beat. “Let the vibes flow through your paws.”

Rufus barked happily as he attempted to mimic Jazzpurr’s drumming, though his paws were far too large for the tiny drums.

Even Ferdinand the duck got in on the action, joining Jazzpurr for a duet.

“Quack, quack, quaaaaaaack!” Ferdinand sang.
“Ribbit-ribbit, man,” Jazzpurr replied, adding a bongo flourish.

The result was… well, let’s just say it was an acquired taste.

The Truth Comes Out

Despite Jazzpurr’s eccentricities, it became clear that he wasn’t actually an alien or some mysterious new species of cat. He was simply a beatnik—a feline with a flair for the dramatic, a love of rhythm, and a penchant for nonsensical poetry.

When I explained this to Captain Meowtronic, he was both relieved and exasperated.

“So he’s not an anomaly?” the captain said, shaking his head. “He’s just… weird?”

“Precisely,” I said. “But weird isn’t bad. In fact, I think Jazzpurr has brought something unique to the farm—a little creativity, a little chaos, and a lot of laughter.”

Jazzpurr, overhearing this, tipped his beret. “Thanks, man. You’re a real cool cat.”

A Beatnik on the Farm

In the end, Jazzpurr decided to stay on the farm, much to the delight of the other animals (and the occasional bewilderment of Captain Meowtronic). He set up a “poetry lounge” in the barn, where he hosts weekly open mic nights for anyone brave enough to participate.

The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: it’s okay to be different. In fact, it’s our differences that make life interesting. So embrace the quirks, the oddities, and the bongos—they’re what make the world a groovy place to live.

As for Jazzpurr? He’s still bopping, grooving, and reciting poetry to anyone who’ll listen. And though I may not always understand his “vibes,” I can’t deny that the farm is a livelier place with him around.

The End.

Are the YouTube videos from the China Observer channel of collapse of China’s export economy that catastrophic?

I am in Guangzhou as I write this post

The atmosphere here among some of the US exporters is definitely gloomy

They don’t seem to be as much worried about the economics as the fear of having to adapt and change after so many years

The Prospect is daunting. They especially belong to the older generation who wouldn’t be unhappy if Xi kowtowed to Trump

They were all comfortable selling stuff to US and now they have to source new markets all over again, a tough task for exporters who have spent 20–25 years cultivating clients only in the US

Some others have adapted

I met a guy selling Smart Coffee Makers. Last year they sold 55,000 Pcs to the Agent of Costco for $ 53.50 a piece , which was resold for $ 153 in US and became a very popular Christmas gift

This year Costco wanted him to cut the price to $ 26.50 but he refused

He instead sold 13,000 Pcs to an Australian importer , 18,000 Pcs to European Importers and 6,500 pcs to ASEAN Importers. That’s 68% of his US Orders

He got an average of $ 55 per piece making far more money than he would have made selling to Costco at 50% discount

I met agents buying for Jiomart ,Croma & D-Mart but they feel this product wouldn’t move in India because they have to price it as ₹13,500/- and nobody would buy at such a price

Another guy who is selling these containers sold 90,000 Pcs to Agents of Walmart last year for $ 3.00 a piece

This year he sold 36,500 in Q1 but now Walmart wanted him to sell for $ 2.20 a piece (This was when Tariffs were 20%)

Now Taobao and JD dot com offered a green channel listing his products with a “Korean War” Appeal calling the US an Enemy and talking of the Korean War

Patriotic Chinese snapped up 80,000 Orders in under 4 hours for 25.55 Yuan a piece ($ 3.50)

His entire Walmart orders have been sold within China and he has made more money than he did last year

Conclusions

A. Smart Electronics, Consumer Electronics and Home Appliances are getting booming orders from Australia, Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia & UK. The Prices are very low for such good quality. Buying for £ 44 and selling for £ 120 is irresistible

So these products will definitely find other buyers and they aren’t that concerned about the US market

Mexican buyers are placing huge orders so my guess is these products will find their way to Walmart and Costco through Mexico after paying 10% Tariff

B. Low Cost Goods are getting heavy listing on Taobao and JD and other online platforms and livestreaming using PATRIOTISM and calling the exports “War Victims”

Many Chinese are buying them in droves out of patriotism

C. The Ne Zha Rebranding

Many products to be exported to US have been rebranded with Ne Zha stickers and have sold like Hot Cakes

These 309 Yuan ($43) small suitcases sold 7,000 under 1 Hour. 10,000 of these were destined to be shipped to Long Beach and Newark by 15/5/2025 and now 7,000 have already been sold on JD and TaoBao

Who are in trouble?

A. Suppliers of many US Clients who sold stuff on Amazon USA. These guys are too much Anglos and the Gen Z who are the biggest buyers don’t like Americanized stuff like Popeye, Garfield, Pokemon etc

Low Cost Jewelry, Plastic Moulds etc have all faced massive order losses and are panicking

There isn’t a market for such trinkets anywhere else

B. Suppliers of High Quality Clothing. Such suppliers have fiercely guarded their markets for years. European Suppliers will not allow anyone to push into their markets while Bangladesh and Vietnam have their own clothing exporters

These guys exclusively worked for US Brands and the US Markets and now they are in trouble

C. 3D Printers, Low Cost Consumer Goods

These guys haven’t found alternative markets so far

In India it’s too expensive

D. Lighting Equipment – Again fiercely protective markets. If a US Supplier has to sell $ 100,000 of light equipment in the European markets, he has to sell his stuff to a European Supplier for $ 60,000 who will then send the stuff to Rotterdam or Liverpool

E. Sports Equipment – Almost $ 70 Million cancelled orders in Yiwu alone.

Who are comfortable?

A. Smart Consumer Electronics and Low Cost Green Goods – They have a huge market in Russia. TCL and Hisense have a 60% market share in Russia and Eastern Europe and Serbia and Central Asia compared to 8% in 2021.

B. Electronics Equipment – Entire waiver by Trump administration. However even otherwise orders across the Globe will make up for them

C. EV Batteries – Huge orders from Mexico to be rerouted to US. Already being done since 2023.

D. Automobile Parts, Paints, Glass – Again Mexico is handling the orders

E. Chemicals for Pharmaceuticals – Bulk Buying and Front Loading is massive. Compared to Q1 2024 , Q1 2025 saw 34% increase and now Q2 2025 has already seen a 9% increase and it’s just been 15 days

F. Fine Tooling Components and Parts for Fine Tooling Equipment – Massive Transshipments through Europe & Mexico

G. Spectacle Frames & Lens – Vietnam is bulk buying in huge numbers for Transshipments

H. Industrial Smart Cranes – BRI Projects can absorb the extra unsold inventory easily

I. Aircraft Parts – Being Rerouted to COMAC and Airbus while Boeing is desperate. Their executive was in Shanghai yesterday

J. Artificial Diamonds (Lab Diamonds) – Huge Orders from Intermediate Countries to be rerouted to USA

Who are in trouble in US?

Every small business is in trouble

Industrial components are crucial and their tooling is superb in China

They say India simply cannot produce that class of tooling and the Indian price is only 8% lower with 60% quality ($ 190 vs $ 175)

The Big Brands like Gucci are in trouble due to IP deregulation. The Chinese factories that made these products for $ 300–400 each which sold for $ 9000 – $ 23,000 in US due to copyright is merrily tossing aside design proprietary and selling a $ 13,000 Bag for $ 1,450 including the 145% Tariff 😁

They still get $ 600 per bag, higher than the $ 300–400 a bag they would get from the distributors of Gucci

I saw a $ 3,200 hermes scarf sold as Hermiss from a factory for $ 450. Same Quality!!!!!!

So now the US Customers ARE PAYING THESE GUYS TO STOP

They are saying “Ok. Just stop selling. We will pay you whatever stock you have at full price. Just keep them with you until everything gets resolved”

Only the Big Tech is OK

I feel in a year or 18 months China will completely adjust without the US Market

Trump’s Bluff is OVER.Trump U-Turn on China Tariffs. China uses US’ blackmail, starts with S. Korea.

MM’s struggles with driving in China

Guys, I have been driving ever since I was 16 years old. I’m now many decades after that. And I’m still driving.

But, you know, I live in a very aggressively grown hyper-metropolis are that is evolving very quickly. The local village folk still maintain old habits, and ways of doing things while factories churn out huge truck loads of gear and products, and construction vehicles battle it out on the mega highways.

So yeah, it’s rough. And it is crazy.

From 8 people in a family riding an electric scooter, to the massive construction vehicles with tires the size of houses. It’s nuts.

Now, I am not here to complain today. But I am going to show you some pictures for your appreciation that you do not have to deal with this kind of life right now.

Today…

Is China’s economy going the way of Japan 30 years ago with deflation and low growth?

The only reason why Japan was hit was because it was a colony of the United States. Japan did whatever the United States told Japan to do, so it was caused by American capital harvesting Japan. Japan’s internal factors are actually not that serious. If Japan were an independent country, I think Japan would most likely seek help from Asia when the United States suppresses it, and directly launch a war against the United States. After all, Japan did this during World War II. The Americans have actually completely emasculated Japan’s national character and military strength. You can’t expect a colony to resist the demands of its masters can you?

posted his embarrassing moment online, his revenge shocked me

https://youtu.be/VAYn1ijpGJQ

China Cannot Survive The Trump Tariffs – But can We?

Hal Turner waving his MAGA flag saying that China is presently collapsing under the "weight" of the US Tariffs. It's bullshit. 

China is DEFIANT, and it is decidedly NOT COLLAPSING. 

And further, the USA is from 3% to 13% of China's exports, not the 25% that Hal refers to. 

This is the kind of "echo chamber" that you all should watch out for. Presented here for an idea of the nonsense spewing forth from the USA today. -MM

Hal Turner Nation April 22, 2025

China’s retaliation Tariffs against President Trump’s tariffs are essentially blowing up in their face.

After grounding dozens of Boeing planes, shifting Liquified Natural Gas purchases to Australia, buying oil from Canada instead of the USA, and withholding rare earth minerals from US sale, Beijing thought it had the upper hand, but now that move to confront the USA is backfiring — badly.

Chinese factories are collapsing under the weight of economic uncertainty, and insiders say more than half could shut down this year.

One supplier admitted, “I nearly passed out” after a major U.S. client suspended all orders.

The United States is the buyer of about 25% or more of all goods manufactured in China. The manufacturing industry is such that it cannot withstand the overnight loss of 25% of its customer base. Factories will be forced to close and go out of business from such a loss.

And it’s not just the tariffs.

China is now in an economic spiral — deflation, unpaid wages, and collapsing property giants — all while the China Communist Party (CCP) scrambles to hide the damage from the world.

Trump’s critics call it reckless. But the unpredictability of Trump is working miracles — keeping China guessing at every turn?

PHARMACEUTICALS

This trade war with China may get very much more ugly.

Right now, about eighty percent (80%) of the Pharmaceutical medicines in our drug stores, are manufactured in China. Even those that are made in India, get the source material from China. If China cuts-off shipment of medicines, this country will plunge into a medical crisis the likes of which has never been seen before.

Of course, people automatically say to themselves “they would never do that.” They would.

Remember, the CCP is the entity that, under their long ago leader Mao Zedong, killed fifty million of their own people in their “cultural revolution” and in their “great leap forward.” This is the same CCP that used TANKS to literally run-over peaceful protesters in Tiananmen Square. Killing is a tool for the CCP and, after all, we’re “only” Americans.

So if YOU need certain prescription medicines to live on, YOU had better go get yourself some reserve supplies. Yes, it will be expensive – especially if your Insurance company says, “we won’t refill it until such and such a date.” You will likely have to pay for these medicines YOURSELF.

Few of us have a lot of money in the bank, but that money in the bank will do you absolutely no good if you’re dying from lack of Insulin or some other medicine you need TO LIVE. So spend the money now, while the meds are still available, because this trade war is turning ugly, fast.

We could very well reach a moment where you finally say “OK I’ll spend the money” only to find out there is no medicine left to be purchased!

If you have an extra 90 days supply, that ___may___ just tie you over until more arrives in the country.

Same with car repairs you’ve been putting-off. Get the work done NOW while the parts are still available. Same with home appliances you’ve been meaning to replace or upgrade. Get them NOW while they’re still available.

EMPTY SHIPS

Last week, slightly over eighty (80) large ocean-container vessels departed China . . . . EMPTY. US merchants have been cancelling orders due to the Tariffs. Merchants know the public won’t buy the items with a 145% Tariff increasing the product price, so they canceled the orders from China. The ships had to leave China empty and head to some other country to be loaded with things to ship.

The trucking industry here in the US is now seeing layoffs because freight traffic is in rapid decline.

IF freight is not coming in on ships, and not moving by truck, inventories are being drawn down in stores and warehouses. It is literally only a matter of time before lots of things are no longer available.

Buy what you need NOW. Don’t think you can wait a few weeks. You can’t.

Did I hear correctly, that in response to Donald Trump’s threats, Canada is going to be landing an entire division of Canadian troops at Thule, Greenland, and wiping out the American base there?

The weapons support in Canada’s arsenal is now in the Ukrainian battlefield, and Canadians do not even have 155mm shells A special military operation by the First Cavalry Division of the Army can disarm the entire armed forces of Canada Then, with priority given to allowing the Sikh to become American citizens, organize one million North American Sikh mercenaries to completely conquer Canada

As long as the Americans are willing to meet the interests of the Russians, the Russians would certainly not hesitate to send Wagner forces to march into Canada. The U.S. could gain vast territories in North America for free, without losing a single soldier.

At this moment, Canadian mercenaries are fighting Russians on the frontlines in Ukraine. It would suit the Russians to bring the flames of war to Quebec, and then the Americans could send in their troops. The Russians would pretend to retreat, allowing the Americans to step in as liberators and take full control of Canada, legally making it the 51st state of the United
States.

After all, the “monkey group” believes that as long as they are not being attacked, they think the Earth revolves around their values.

I AM OUROBOROS

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story where a character relives the same event over and over again. … view prompt

HAAKON RAGNSKJOLD

What does the desire to live forever say about a man? It’s a very common wish. No one really wants to die—and yet no one’s ever escaped their fate. There is a point in life wherein our own biology sits us down and sternly tells us—“Thus far shall ye go, and no further.” Yet, people still dream of the impossible. My own physical difficulties had become great—almost too great too endure. The sixteenth verse of the Havamal had been staring me straight in the face for a very long time. The coward thinks he will live forever If only from fighting he flees; But the ails and aches of old age dog him Though spears have spared him. I was born on Saturday, May 2^nd, 1953, at 9:47 P.M. I was one hundred and twenty years old. I had accumulated a quite substantial amount of esoteric, outrè, arcane—and even forbidden—lore. It is because of such ancient and alchemical knowledge that my life has lasted as long as it has. By 2053, it was said they could now reconstruct damaged body parts through the application of nanotechnology. There was talk that a man might have his brain surgically implanted in an indestructible android body. But while a blow involving several tons of force might not damage an indestructible skull—the shock of that energy, transferred through that skull would turn the brain to mush. It was speculated that the electronic patterns of a human mind could be uploaded into an android’s computer brain. But an organic mind reduced to digital binary code and pixels of RAM memory would lose its humanity. A round peg in a square hole is not a good fit. There were rumors of clone banks. If your body parts wear out, you get replacement organs from your own clone. Genetically compatible, your body would never reject it. Of course, if the clones ever wake up to what you’re really doing, then it’s—“No, Massey—LET MY PEOPLE GO!” I have heard they had even perfected an elixir of immortality. At several trillion dollars a pop you might get a single drink of that. Better start saving your pennies. Even if these things were to work, you’d still have to live with all the mistakes of your life before you became immortal. You could change your future—but you could never change your past. What I wanted was a good future, based upon a good past. Why bother building a luxurious penthouse, when your cellar is all waterlogged, mildewed and rotten? The rats are running crap games in your basement, and the only reason you don’t have cockroaches, is because they can’t stand the smell of the bedbugs. For all my painstaking care, I had no power to stop the increasing decrepitude of my body—the best I could do was slow it down. But my mind—that had been honed to razor sharpness. For decades I had embarked on the rigid application of an outrè and esoteric spiritual discipline. That was my ace in the hole. Death was coming for me. I had led him on a merry chase. But I could see his approach. His black shroud concealed an arsenal of bayonets, daggers, krises, kukris and karambits. But only a fool brings a knife to a gunfight! Don’t worry—I’m not a suicide. I’m talking about a different kind of gun. The one thing common to nearly all deaths is the fact that we have virtually no control over where our spirits go. We breathe our last and our spirit goes out with our final breath—to where? We do not know. But I knew exactly where my spirit was going to go. I had decades of practice on a spiritual shooting range. My weapon was a Twelve Gauge Eisenkrieg Schwarz-Adler Gatling (I am partial to steampunk, after all). There was one bullet in its chamber—and that one bullet was me. My spirit, my mind, my soul. I raised that spiritual Gatling gun. I knew exactly where I was aiming myself. My afterlife was going to be exactly where, what and when I intended it to be. And as Death touched me, I pulled the trigger that belonged to no earthly gun. The year was 2073. I died at the age of one hundred and twenty.

I didn’t regain consciousness for many months. I had expected to be fully integrated with my new body right from the start. But my new brain had to grow before it could fully host my consciousness. The greater portion of my spirit remained outside my body, like an observer.

But it had worked! I had reincarnated myself into a body that was entirely new. You can not imagine the incredible freedom of swimming in what seems like an infinite ocean. You don’t eat or drink—yet you’re nourished. Food goes directly to your stomach, eliminating the middle man.

As I grew, there was less and less room to move around in but that never seemed to bother me. I was more worried about the first real problem I knew I would have to face. The first time I’d been born I had a condition called asyncletism. This is where the baby’s head positions itself at about a ninety degree angle to how it’s supposed to pass through the birth canal. Mother had always said I was a stubborn child!

I struggled to position myself right. I had to fight, and fight hard to integrate just a little bit more of my spirit into that uncooperative little brat!

Ever wonder why you have no conscious memory of being in the womb? That’s because birth is one of the most horrendous things you’ll ever go through—so terrible you block it out—utterly!

Somehow I was successful at getting my head turned around and my birth was normal. No doctor needed to spank me to get my breathing going. I screamed and cried from the pure horror of being born. My screams of agony were louder than those of the most hardened sinner being thrown into a wood chipper, crying for God to save him!

But why was I worried about asyncletism when this was a completely new birth?

Because when I aimed that Twelve Gauge Eisenkrieg Schwarz-Adler Gatling of spirit, I had fired the bullet of my spirit, mind and soul into the past.

I had reincarnated myself.

As myself.

And today was Saturday, May 2^nd, 1953, 9:47 P.M.

Not exactly how Jesus meant it when he said “Ye must be born again.” But we don’t always get what we want—not even Jesus Christ gets that.

By itself, reincarnation is a ludicrous concept. You’re punished for something you did in your past life—something you can’t even remember! What’s more, any thing you’ve learned in that past life is completely stripped away from you and you have to start all over again from scratch. You’re tabula rasa, a blank slate.

Reincarnation is the exception, not the rule. You must have done something so horrendous, so horrible, that it’s set the universe severely out of balance and this is the only way to set it right. Unless you’re a God or a Goddess, you end up in one of the multiple Heavens or Hells available in the After-Life.

On the other hand, you might just simply cease to exist.

Integrating my spirit with the mind and body of my child self was an excruciating task. The lion’s share of myself remained unconnected as an observer, unable to affect what the child who was my younger self was doing. Nonetheless, my efforts to gain full control and integration were unrelenting.

1959. I was six years old. I was in the first grade. In my first life, some kid had lobbed a rock that hit me square in the head, hitting me just as I entered the school yard that morning.

Unless I could get control over this child self, the world of my second life would be an exact repeat of my first one. Knowing what was coming, I’d gotten into the habit of watching what was around me. Like it says in the first verse of the Havamal—

Have thy eyes about thee when thou enterest

Be wary always,

Be watchful always;

For one never knoweth when need will be

To meet hidden foe in the hall.

As I entered the gate, I saw the kid clearly. I saw him throw the stone. He wasn’t even aiming at me. I’d just had the bad fortune to be in his direct line of fire. This time, I avoided getting hit—just barely! It had been extraordinarily hard—but I’d done it! I’d changed my life and changed my history! You can believe I had words with that kid! He didn’t like being spoken to that way. He tried to fight me. The hardest thing for me was to take him down without teachers thinking I was the aggressor.

After that, there were further changes, but they were subtle and slow. It wasn’t easy making those changes. There was a tremendous inertia I had to push against.

I really had no friends my own age—we’re talking about a hundred and twenty year age difference. I was too much of a freak and got targeted by bullies. I never got beaten—forty years of martial arts training guaranteed that. The difficulty was in not revealing just how much I did know. I could have killed any of those kids with ease. Even force of numbers couldn’t have taken me down.

It was a little easier to talk with grownups. But I still had to be exceptionally careful not to reveal what I was really capable of. Think about it. You see a six year old kid. You certainly don’t expect him to be able to speak and write in more than a dozen languages—some of them dead ones.

As I got more and more integrated I enjoyed more highlights. I still grin when I think of what I did to Miss Reese.

1966. I was thirteen years old. Fifth Grade. Junior High. Miss Reese was a middle-aged old bat and was probably an old maid and a Jehovah’s Witness. I’d said something to her that didn’t agree with her Christian sensibilities. She’d responded in anger and astonishment—“Don’t you even know the name of your God?”

Now first time around I had no idea how to reply to her. What she’d said made no sense to me. Mom had never raised me in the Christian Faith, though some of the family were Catholic.

We were not yet to the Summer of Love and much of the culture of 1966 was still meshed in the dregs of the repressive, conformist Nineteen Fifties. That was a time when children were taught to believe in the Christian God. Your family and church told you who your God was. That was not unconnected with the idea that America was supposed to be Christian country. Your God was chosen for you—you didn’t get to choose it for yourself!

But this was my second time around and this time I did what I had long wished I had known what to do the first time. I stood up, my fists on my desk and said clearly, with the deep throated growl that might have come from deep in a hunting wolf’s throat—“My God is Odin. Allfather. Master of Magick, Death, and Leader of the Wild Hunt.”

There was a real fear in her eyes. No one had ever called her on her bullshit before.

I wound up in the Principal’s office. He harangued me, almost mocking me for believing in what everyone knew was a myth, a fairy tale. “I am true to the God of my ancestors,” I told him. He tried telling me how my ancestors had given up their superstitions and left them behind when they came to this country. I told him how Vikings came to America five hundred years before Catholic Columbus set foot on this land.

They called in my mother. He tried to shame her for not teaching me religious values. I said only that you didn’t talk to my mother like that. I put the same fear in him that I’d put in Miss Reese—only this time it was the voice of a wounded grizzly bear!

It all ended in a court case. The school was found to be in violation of the First Amendment. The protection guaranteed in that amendment was not limited only to branches of the Christian Faith—it must apply even to ancient Pagan Faiths as well.

There were other highlights as well. I was sixteen and hitchhiked up to Bethel, New York in 1969. Got to attend the Woodstock Festival. First time around I hadn’t come out of my shell until Earth Day, 1970.

Perhaps one of the things I’m proudest of was making sure I was in New York City on December 8, 1980. I had a murder to prevent. Gained two life long friends that evening. I still managed to keep a low profile. But it got to be difficult after that.

It had taken me thirty years to fully integrate my spirit and gain full control. By the time I came to the end of my second life, I had reached the age of one hundred twenty three. Inside I was two hundred forty-three years old. I died for the second time, in 2076. The world was even closer to falling into the Bottomless Pit than it had been in 2073. Once again I fired the Twelve Gauge Eisenkrieg Schwarz-Adler Gatling into the past. Once again it was Saturday, May 2^nd, 1953. 9:47 P.M.

The third time I was born was considerably easier than the second. This time, full control of my faculties was gained by the time I was thirteen. By then, I had experienced two hundred fifty-six years of life. It was time to expand my sphere of influence. I grew bolder implementing the needed changes. I had begun to “invent” things. Not too difficult when you thoroughly understand Twenty-First Century technology. And it’s quite a perk to jump start the Information Age twenty years ahead of its time.

Each new life was an improvement on the last. If in my second life I had learned how to become vigilant, I did not have to relearn that lesson. If in my second life I had fully integrated at age thirty, in my third I had fully integrated at thirteen. I gasped when I thought of what my progress might be like in my fourth or even fifth lives!

Yet something kept nagging at me.

Hadn’t there been times in my first life, when it seemed that something other than myself—or at least something outside of myself—had given me warnings and steered me away from danger?

In 1980 I had planned to take a bicycle trip down the coast. But two different times, when I was on the road, I got the strongest impression that I should not go to the coast. Both times the feeling was palpable. There was no mistaking it. Twice it gripped me, and twice I listened to it. Because I heeded that voice (but it was not a voice) I avoided a gigantic, ninety-mile-an-hour wind storm that hit the coast.

For a spirit to engraft itself onto a new born child, there is a tremendous inertia to overcome. One part of the spirit integrates with the body; the other remains the unintegrated observer, but constantly strives to unify the whole.

But the idea slowly dawned on me. What if there was a third part—that of the infantile self, the self that existed before I came from my own future to invade my own past? That child would not have understood this invader—it would have struck him as something foreign and alien—something to be resisted and fought against.

I was finding it very hard to breathe. Full realization crashed upon me like the tsunami that breaks down the obsidian cliff walls which have stood immovable since the Dawn of Time,

I’d been wrong. I had reincarnated untold number of times but I had never known it. In none of these lives had I successfully reintegrated with my younger self. But I had not been completely unaffected. It explained my rather freakish inability to interact very well with others. It would account for the reason I had always been something of a loner. It would be the reason I had always been something of an outcast.

I’d been at this longer than I suspected. It was a cycle—and each reincarnation was an improvement on the one before.

Each time I began again, it was Saturday, May 2^nd, 1953, at 9:47 P.M.

I was a phoenix. Eternally being reborn. Infinitely rising from the ashes of my own life—and each time finding my way back in. Would it ever end? Did it have to end? I couldn’t say. All I knew was that I was going to live this life, over and over—remaking it anew, gaining more experience, gaining new sufferings, gaining new joys and glories.

The Midgard Serpent seizes its own tail in its unrelenting jaws. It bites down hard and holds it, unyieldingly.

My ending is my beginning. My beginning is my ending.

But there is no true beginning. Even as there is no true ending.

I am Ouroboros.

I am the serpent who takes his own ending—and makes of it his new beginning.

I am Ouroboros.

This NDE Will Give You Goosebumps – Athlete Dies & Plays Sports In Heaven, Returns With A Message

New 3500% Tariffs on Solar Panels and Related Equipment!

The USA is in La-La-Land. -MM

Hal Turner World April 22, 2025

The U.S. Department of Commerce slapped high tariffs on solar panels and their related products coming from four Southeast Asian countries, Malaysia, Vietnam, Thailand, and Cambodia, accusing manufacturers there of dumping products on the U.S. market.

The announcement ends a yearlong trade probe initiated under the Biden administration.

Tariff levels varied wildly between different countries and manufacturers. Solar cells made in Malaysia by Korean company Hanwha only got a tariff of 14.64%, the lowest imposed.

In contrast, four manufacturers in Cambodia—Hounen Solar, Jintek Photovoltaic, ISC Cambodia, and Solar Long PV Tech—got tariffs of 3,521.14%. The Southeast Asian country stopped cooperating with the U.S. probe, leading to such high penalties.

The U.S. International Trade Commission will make a final determination on tariff rates on June 2.

U.S. solar manufacturers, as well as foreign companies that invested in U.S.-based manufacturing, lobbied for antidumping tariffs on Southeast Asian manufacturers, accusing them of pricing their products below production cost. The American Alliance for Solar Manufacturing Trade Committee also argued that Southeast Asian companies received an unfair level of subsidies, making U.S.-made solar panels uncompetitive.

Chinese-owned solar manufacturing facilities have popped up across Southeast Asia as companies sought to navigate U.S.-China trade frictions.

While Cambodia is still primarily an agrarian economy, solar panels were the Southeast Asian country’s top export to the U.S. last year, according to data from consultancy Oxford Economics.

In total, the U.S. imported $12.9 billion worth of solar equipment from the four countries targeted by Monday’s tariffs, representing about 77% of module imports, according to Bloomberg data.

In a statement on Monday, the Alliance called the Commerce Department’s final tariff recommendation a “decisive victory” for American manufacturing.

“Enforcing our trade laws isn’t just a legal matter—it’s essential to rebuilding our industrial base, securing our energy independence, and protecting American jobs,” Tim Brightbill, cochair of Wiley’s international trade practice and lead counsel to the group, said in a statement.

Why does the media often portray a negative image of Russia? Is Russia considered a democracy like the USA?

When you thought you’ve seen all the crazy stuff from Russia, there come fresh crosswalk markings painted over the snow!

“What happened to the crosswalk? It has vanished.”

“Oh you know, people walked across the road and cars drove by and they rubbed it out.”

“In five minutes?!”

Russian Orthodox Christian priest Andrey Tkachev claims that the war in Ukraine began because men masturbated and spilled semen “not in the bosom of their own wife.”

Thus the real objective for the invasion was de-masturbation of Ukraine. The question is why the church calls out for putting more men in the trenches when they are meant to fill in wife’s bosoms.

A nice Audio A6 is being towed away from a parking lot. But what’s a military KAMAZ truck doing there? You don’t say…

A Moscow resident who had been deprived of his license for drunk driving for the second time was sentenced to 200 hours of community service and ordered to have his car transferred to the Ministry of Defense for the needs of the Special Military Operation.

But rest assured, the car won’t make it to the frontlines to be blasted by a kamikaze drone. It’s just one of the generals in the headquarters wanted to make a present for his young mistress.

Putin awarded the title Hero of Russia to corporal Andrei Grigoriev from Yakutia. He defeated a Ukrainian serviceman in hand-to-hand combat.

This is a trope from a Hollywood action movie in which a villain and protagonist drop their weapons to have a martial art fight. The hero wins and gets awarded a medal of merit from the president.

Due to the lack of prisoners in Buryatia who have all been sent to war and never came back, the construction of a mega-colony has been postponed.

Earlier, they were going to build a huge prison in Ulan-Ude, where they were going to bring those serving sentences from all over the region.

Stalin is rolling in his grave. He had never thought up of anything stupid like that – he needed prisoners alive to do force labor for him to build river canals, plants to excavate raw materials in permafrost and railway lines.

KGB officer Vladimir Putin has killed all the prisoners in Gulag when there’s an acute shortage of workers in the country! He has just handed out death sentences to the able bodied workers serving in penal colonies.

He then imported several thousands North Korean men who could have been employed as cheap labor in the production facilities to make competitively prices shoes and clothes, but no, he sent them all into a meat grinder, too.

White Lada car has become synonymous with Russian servicemen’s death payments popularized by the parents of a deceased soldier killed in Ukraine who expressed on TV their gratitude to the benevolent state for giving them a Lada passenger car to visit their son at the cemetery.

Advertisement of Black Lada had to overcome this negative and unfortunately memorable meme. It features an ethnic man from Caucus mountain region in a tracksuit and a national sheepskin hat riding a black horse. The horse is faster than the Lada car.

“I’d rather buy a horse,” a viewer thinks. “If only I had a stable to keep it!”

The Lada vehicle with tinted windows is impeded in its tracks by a flock of sheep where it comes to a full stop for the next hour or two.

We got it. Lada is such a slow car that even its manufacturers don’t deny the fact. There are no goats in the commercial because they were exchanged for the North Korean soldiers.

An interesting piece of statistic from Rosstat. In Moscow, iPhone owners make up the majority of the smartphones owners: 53% share. But in the southern regions where the commercial was shot, Dagestan leads with an iPhone share of 63% and Chechnya with 61%.

Caucus populace may ride horses and work on small farms tending to sheep that impede traffic but they have an iPhone in the tracksuit pocket.

A black Lada and a flock of sheep. That’s iPhone.

Americans On Rednote Left Shocked After Realizing China Is Way More Advanced!!

Inside Out Lasagna

Yield: 15 servings

Ingredients

1 package uncooked bowtie pasta
1/2 medium onion, chopped
1 1/4 pounds beef or sausage links (casings removed)
2 garlic cloves pressed
1 jar marinara sauce
1 can diced tomatoes in juice
4 eggs
1 (32 ounce) container ricotta
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
2 tablespoons snipped fresh parsley
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Cook pasta according to package directions
Meanwhile, chop onion with food chopper, cook and stir onion and ground beef on stove 8 to 10 minutes or until browned breaking beef into small crumbles. Press garlic into beef using garlic press. Stir in pasta sauce and tomatoes, remove from heat
In stainless mixing bowls, lightly beat eggs with stainless whisk. Add cheese, parsley, salt, and black pepper. Mix well.
To assemble Lasagna, place cooked pasta into bottom of rectangular baker. Top with meat mixture. Spoon ricotta mixture over sauce; Spread evenly.
Bake, uncovered, 1 hour or until ricotta mixture is set and lightly browned.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

SMALL AMERICAN BUSINESS OWNERS ARE CONSIDERING CLOSING THEIR BUSINESSES, THEY SAY THE TARIFF IS MUCH

Why is there so much more poverty in Haiti than the Dominican Republic which is on the same island?

The island of Hispaniola was doomed from the start. When we look at Haiti, and the Dominican Republic, the cities are different, the language is different, the music is different, and the industries are different. While the Dominican republic’s GDP continues to grow, Haiti remains the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.

Haiti is plagued with rampant corruption, constant black-outs, food uncertainties, and a history that wasn’t concerned about the future of the island. Meanwhile, the Dominican Republican thrives off tourism and sugar production.

So what happened?

It all started in 1492, when Christopher Columbus and his Spanish crew showed up to the island of Hispaniola. They liked the island so much that they made a permanent settlement, naming it Santo Domingo. They set-up a very typical Spanish colonial economy, and had enslaved the native (Taino) people.

In 1697 French pirates seized control of the west side of the island, naming it Saint-Domingue. They were determined to do it all way better than the Spanish, so they started importing thousands of African slaves to work on cotton, tobacco, and sugar plantations. They imported over 500,000 slaves from Africa, instead of using the native (Taino) people, the way the Spanish had. They succeeded, and at one point this side of the island, Saint-Domingue (Haiti), was the richest colony in the Americas. The French however, were not focused on sustainability, they were only focused on extracting as many natural resources, and creating as much revenue as possible.

In 1804 there was a slave rebellion that rocked Saint-Domingue, slaves gained their independence from the French and they named what was once, Saint-Domingue; Haiti. Haiti was the very first country to ever be successfully overthrown by slaves.

Ever since, there have been long, strenuous, fights for occupation, and independence going back and forth between the French, the Spanish, and even the United States. They’ve weaved through dictatorships, democracies, and even wars between each other. Both countries have been plagued with corruption, and used by dictators who had only wanted to line their own pockets.

The Dominican Republic was ultimately able to capitalize on their robust sugar industry, exporting quite a bit of sugar to the United States. Haiti was not able to do this because their soil, and agriculture had been depleted due to decades of stripping all their natural resources. Haiti was also order to pay, what would today be, 30 billion dollars in reparations to France for their slave rebellion. They were paying this debt all the way up until 1947, ultimately stalling the allocation of money for things like education, infrastructure, and food.

The Dominican Republic also capitalized heavily off tourism, and still receive a good chunk of their revenue from it. Haiti has not been able to do this due to the exponentially high corruption and crime that plagues their country.

Haiti and the Dominican Republic are two very different countries, with two very different cultures. The language barrier between the two makes it even harder, with Haitians speaking French/Creole, and Dominicans speaking Spanish. The Haitians are primarily of African descent, whereas the Dominicans are primarily mixed, with traces back to the (Taino) people. With racial tensions high, the Dominicans are trying to better their country, while the Haitians, seeing no promise in their own country, want to infiltrate the Dominican Republic. This has prompted a deep level of hostility, and even a heavily monitored border wall. In a perfect world, these two sides would fight together for one island, unfortunately…their futures hold no promise of that.

NEW REPORT: Things Are Actually Far Worse Than Originally Thought…

Some strange indicators…

Why are Chinese people so arrogant?

Can you give an example?

Without more context, I can think of 2 kinds of Chinese arrogance.

Failing to kowtow to Westerners. This is the greatest difference between Chinese and other east Asians. South Koreans and Japanese, and even Chinese in Taiwan and Hong Kong tend to suck up to white people, because they were militarily defeated and are in some sense or other semi-colonies or were colony. They are used to the Westerners being superior, “broken spine” as we call it in China. You go visit Japan or South Korea and you see the locals shy away from or humble at the American troops stationed there, and you’d be able to tell the Chinese tourists immediately. They would stand tall and watch the American servicemen with a cocky attitude like “hey my grand daddy beat your grand daddy”. The same kind of attitude applies to other Asians who have foreign military stationed in their country or have heavy foreign presence, like “We’re the free men.” This cannot be helped, we Chinese are just used to being No.1 throughout our history, and dependency and submission to others is unimaginable.
The other kind of arrogance is newly founded. China grew faster than any other country in the past 3 or 4 decades. And not just any faster. The average Chinese are 33 times richer than 30 years ago. This developed a new kind of pride/arrogance in that when Chinese meet people from developed nations, we think, “hmmm, we’ll outcompete you soon”. And when we meet people from poorer nations, we start to view them in the same way Americans viewed us in the 80s. While in the 90s, the Chinese would listen to Westeners talk about democracy and human rights, nowadays such dialogue are just amusing and absurd to us, and we’ll laugh or politely assert that the CCP is the best regime in the world.

I would support the former and question the latter, as it hampers our ability to communicate and learn.

The Karma of Idiots

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Lily Renga

Dr. Carmela Ronson had a thing for eating grapes with Greek yogurt. Her morning routine consisted of doing a Peloton class, showering, driving to work, getting in a fit of road rage at least once, parking in the St. Peter’s University Hospital lot, and then finally indulging in her breakfast. While self-driving cars had become the norm, she liked the thrill of driving herself and accelerating on the highway. Even the road rage was a slight comfort in her morning ritual. Today on Easton Avenue, an old man had decided the cross the street just as the light had turned green. He seemed oblivious to her honking. In fact, he seemed to walk slower with every honk she made, not even bothering to look at her as he meandered across the pavement. She thought about how he couldn’t ignore her if she ran him over (of course, she would never do that – it was just a thought). For her good moral behavior, Carmela put extra grapes in her Greek yogurt at work. Plus, she deserved a treat after what she’s had to deal with back home.

Her first patient of the day was an eight-year-old boy named Henry who had gotten his thumb stuck in a tire swing. Henry still had a bit of baby fat, exemplified by his swollen lips as he tried to keep a brave face for the doctor. Despite his tyrannosaurus rex shirt being covered in dirt, his brown curly hair sat neatly on his head. Even with all the new anti-gravity playground equipment, children still seemed to prefer the rusty swing sets and steep slides. Carmela understood this; she imagined that the old school playground equipment gave children a similar adrenaline rush she felt when she drove. Carmela sat down warmly next to the boy. “Hi Henry. I’m Doctor Ronson and I’m going to take care of your thumb today. How are you feeling?”. He nodded his head in acknowledgement of her presence, and she gently placed his finger in her palm. She immediately knew the thumb was undoubtedly broken. It was almost impressive how much damage he did with just a tire swing. But Carmela took pride in her job, so even though she knew exactly where he had broken his thumb, she used the pen in her pocket to run a quick x-ray to be sure. Uncapping the pen, she looked up at him. “This device is called PocketVision. It’s a medical tool that will let me see where you’ve broken your thumb. Is that ok?” Henry gave a silent nod.

“Okay Henry, your thumb is broken in a few places. We are going to get you fixed right up though.” She felt it was time to attempt some relatability here. “You know, you are really lucky to grow up in these times,” she said, “when I was a kid, you just had to suck it up and let it heal. But, I have another cool tool I can use to make you feel better right away. Can I go grab it?” Henry, unsurprisingly, nodded back. She was starting to get irritated. “Not big on words, huh kid?” she grumbled as she went to grab the device.

Carmela was very excited to use ConsanoLife for the first time on a child patient. Innovations like this were why Carmela had gone into medicine in the first place. A new surgical procedure or medical technique gave her a much bigger rush than driving ever did. She can still remember the thrill of cutting into human skin the first time, and the heart racing delight of her first hip replacement. The first time she had used ConsanoLife last month, Carmela couldn’t wait to come home and tell her husband all about it. She laughed to herself. Funny how things worked out. Her hospital was lucky enough to have multiple ConsanoLifes at their disposal. It was lucky for her in the sense that she was able to bring one home last night and no one noticed. No one noticed when she brought it back this morning either.

She strolled into the orthopedic surgery unit as if she hadn’t been there an hour ago and walked up to the pristine silver machine. The smell of new metal lingered on its shiny surface. ConsanoLife was currently only the size of a laptop, meaning it could only operate on small parts of the body. The size and weight made it easy for transportation. With the wild success of ConsanoLife revolutionizing the medical world, researchers were already working on something three times the current size.

She walked back up to Henry with the device. “Hi Henry. What I’m holding in my arms is something called ConsanoLife. Do you believe in magic?” She attempted her biggest smile. Henry stared blankly back at her. She opened her mouth to continue, but her phone in her pocket started buzzing. A call from Dave. Fuck that. She continued, “well, this device is kind of like that. You’re going to put your hurt thumb in here, and then your thumb is going to disappear. No pain at all. All your nerve cells are suspended inside the machine. Basically, all the bonds in your cell walls break apart and the device collects all the living tissue from the identified body part. Then after an hour or so, the device will have regenerated all your tissue and bones to be even stronger than before. In between that time, a skin graft is created by the machine to cover the area where your thumb was. When the device is done repairing the damage you did to your thumb, I put the machine back on your hand, press that yellow button, and your thumb will be better than ever.” Henry’s brows furrowed. She was never that good with kids. Carmela concluded he understood about 10% of that sentence. She tried again.

“Basically, this machine, ConsanoLife, is going to take your thumb for an hour, fix it, and put it right back, all healed. And it doesn’t hurt one bit. You won’t feel a thing.” Henry didn’t seem nearly as excited as she was, but at least he didn’t seem scared anymore. With a long line of patients ahead for the day, she knew she had to begin the operation. She began to insert Henry’s thumb into the red rubber mouth of the machine. After putting in his metrics, she turned on the device, which groaned as if waking up from a nap and then whirred rhythmically. Henry sat, uninterested, as if his thumb wasn’t becoming detached from his body right before his eyes. Henry’s lackluster attitude began to irritate Carmela further. “Any fun trips coming up?” Silence as per usual, but she didn’t miss a beat this time. She continued, “After today I am going on a long trip. I packed my bags last night. I think I’m gonna go to Chicago. And then Hawaii and then Norway maybe. I wasn’t sure where I was going so I packed a little bit of everything. T-shirts, a sun hat, winter boots, gloves, some dresses, a bikini, the works.” She looked up at him in just enough time to catch a slight eye roll. Henry yawned.

Carmela placed the ConsanoLife device back in the orthopedic unit and set a timer for one hour. In that one hour, she tended to someone with a foot bunion, put a dislocated elbow back in place, and ignored 14 calls from Dave. If he wasn’t going to consider her feelings back then, he certainly would not be receiving any of her time now. As she strolled through the hallway, the buzz of her timer went off. It was time to put Henry’s thumb back on. She walked back over to Henry with the small machine, who was watching a baseball game on TV. The Nationals were up by 3. From a distance, Henry looked relaxed and happy, enjoying his time in the hospital bed. When he turned over to see Carmela, his smile fell flat. Great. “Hi again Henry,” she said, “it’s time to get your thumb back on. I just need to take a few measurements before we do that.”

As she measured his blood pressure and checked his heart rate, she broke the unending silence like a hot knife through butter. “Do you have any siblings?” This time she did not wait even a second for a response that would never come. “I have one brother. I’m an older sister, you see. And I’d like to think I helped make him into a good person. But the truth is, I think all men just might be terrible. For one, they smell. But, let’s be honest, if it ended there, then I could tolerate them. No, they do a LOT worse than just smell. Don’t you agree?” Henry, it seemed, did not agree. In his classic demeanor, his mouth pulled downwards, and his eyes narrowed. She had no idea why she was talking so much to this kid. She felt like punishing him for being rude to her.

Carmela put his hand back in the machine and made a few more adjustments. Maybe she was a bit harsh. Maybe if she explained why she thought these things, he would understand. Henry might be quite the intellectual for all she knew. She spoke again, “I think you’d agree with me if you’ve known what I’ve been through. See, men only think with one thing, and it’s not with their head, if you know what I mean.” She pressed the yellow button and the mechanical whirring started up again with a faint yellow glow. “One day you think you’re with the love of your life, and the next day he’s having sex with a 22-year-old girl that does YouTube for a living. Oh, and she looks nothing like me, of course. It makes you wonder, was I ever his type?” Her voice began to shake and get louder, and her knuckles turned white as they gripped the machine. Henry was looking around nervously. His thumb, after all, was in the hands of a woman who was ranting about her cheating husband.

Carmela continued: “It just makes me so fucking angry. Does he think I do those virtual Peloton classes for myself? No. I’m 44 for God’s sake. And I take pretty good care of myself just so I can look attractive to him. I even put myself through a freaking juice cleanse! But even with all the medical advancements in the world, I’m not gonna ever have the perfect body of a 22 year old girl. I wouldn’t look like that if I drank juice for the rest of my life.” The machine’s glow started dimming, meaning it was almost done reconstructing the thumb. Henry looked like his was holding his breath, sitting stiff as a board.

Carmela laughed to herself. It came out as an angry, high pitched, snarling growl. “Here’s the thing Henry. My husband is an idiot. Idiots underestimate women. Don’t be an idiot, ok? Or you’ll end up just like my husband.” The device stopped whirring. Some color returned to his cheeks as he let go of the breath he had been holding. Henry’s stiff posture relaxed now that he was sure his thumb was attached to his body. He started wiggling it around, testing its functionality. He was surprised at how well he could bend it, given the pain he had endured just an hour ago. She was right. The ConsanoLife device had worked perfectly and painlessly. He thought of all the thumb wars he could win with his new and improved thumb. “Maybe I’ll go to Peru,” she thought out loud. “Or Slovenia. What do you think?”

For the first time, Henry opened his mouth: “Have you thought about Disney World?”

She paused, surprised that she had gained approval to be spoken to. She replied as if talking to an old friend, “No, I haven’t. But I’m not sure if I want to be around all those newlyweds who go to Disney for their honeymoon.”

“If you want to leave so bad, why did you go to work?”

“Oh, well, that’s because I borrowed something from the hospital and needed to put it back before I left.”

“What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing he didn’t deserve. But it involved a little help from that magical machine I used on your thumb today.”

“I don’t get it. You know I’m only eight, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, remember that this device can painlessly remove any body part that will fit into it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t have to give the body part back, if you think about it. You could just keep it in the machine forever. I thought it was for time my husband start thinking with his head and not the other thing”

“I still don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to understand, really. Just don’t be an idiot.”

“Ok. Thanks for fixing my thumb. Have a good vacation.”

What went wrong with the F-35?

(Ret.) Turkish General. Beyazıt Karataş , a former F-16 pilot, recently talked about the F-35s:

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It is an exceedingly expensive and unnecessarily complex aircraft. It tries to do a little bit of everything but ends up not being able to do anything right.
Lifetime operating cost of the F-35 exceeds $450-$500 million per plane, making it unsustainable for even countries like the US & UK.
Notorious for unsolvable technical problems, from radar quitting mid flight due to overheating to engines catching on fire.
In stealth mode, its weapon options are extremely limited in size, range and capability.
USAF is trying to slowly phase it out by reducing orders while the U.S. government continues to push it to “allies” to help defense contractors and make countries more dependent on the U.S.
It is a “postcard fighter”. Good for taking pictures but less than half availability for battle. I highly recommend it to Greece, the more they buy, the better.
For Türkiye, the era of expensive and sanctions-prone U.S. fighters is over ever since the maiden flight of our own TFX/MMU KAAN.

FIRST TIME HEARING PINK FLOYD – COMFORTABLY NUMB (LIVE ’94) EMOTIONAL REACTION

Did the 80s look the same as the present day but just a different way of life?

Um, no. Not at all.

Everything was different.

Payphones on every corner. A local call cost 25 cents in the U.S. in the mid-late 80s.

They usually had phone books attached, since there was no internet to look up someone’s phone number.

People at concerts actually enjoyed the concert without phones in front of their faces.

People visiting the Grand Canyon didn’t lean out over the edge like idiots because they wanted the perfect selfie.

Television sets looked like this:

If you had a 25″ television, you were living pretty large. We weren’t poor, and we had a 19″ (that’s measured diagonally, by the way). In the early 80s, before cable, we had 7 channels. In some more rural places they only had 3. Also no VCRs (till the mid 80s) or DVR, so if you missed your show, you missed it, and you could only watch movies that were broadcast or in the theater.

Some 80’s TV’s were also furniture. My friend had a console TV like this:

Video games looked like this (and we thought they were high-tech):

Cigarette vending machines were all over the place, too. Anyone could buy cigarettes from a vending machine, I remember buying them at 14 in my local pizzeria ($1.25 a pack then).

Speaking of cigarettes, pretty much every local drugstore sold candy cigarettes. A child’s delight! Often they had powder inside the wrappers, so you could puff into it and it looked like smoke was coming out.

Cars looked a LOT different. Here is a 1984 Honda Accord.

(I still maintain that the 90s had uglier cars overall than the 80s, though.)

If you wanted to listen to music on the go, the Sony Walkman was pretty much your only option. If you could afford one; the cheapest model went for $40 in 1984, or around $100 USD today.

Big, sprayed hair was the norm from the mid-80s on, and pink eyeshadow was a thing, too (I used to put it on in 7th grade, prompting my mom to tell me it made me look like I had a disease).

Also on the “bigger is better” front, women’s jackets tended to have huge shoulder pads that made you look like a linebacker.

That’s just a sampling.

No, the 80s did not look anything like today, any more than the 50’s looked like the 80s. It was over 30 years ago. Things change.

“Groceries Are Cheap” Trump LIES About Grocery Prices And MAGA is FURIOUS

Some crazy stuff…

It’s time to rise

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story that starts and ends in the same place.… view prompt

Rk Springfield

It’s Time to Rise

“My name is Robert H. Jones. I’m a salesman.”

`Robert H. Jones was at a loss for words. And since Robert H. Jones happened to be the ‘Salesperson of the Year’ for the 7^th time running, being speechless was actually saying a lot. So, he had been repeating his own name to himself for a few minutes.

“I…I..” Robert, (as he liked to call himself), looked around the room in disbelief. This particular room being aboard an alien spacecraft, and which had apparently been decorated to look like a…child’s birthday party. Having finally figured out what had been bugging him about the room, apart from the 22ft. aliens floating here and there like giant big-headed octopuses, (but Robert was on an alien spacecraft, and so decided that squid aliens was probably to be expected). They called themselves the Syndaxic, and for the entire time Robert had been awake, which was five full minutes Robert reckoned, closing his mouth, which had been agape since he’d opened his eyes here. He had been just about to call on his superior, a Mr. E.E. Smyth because of the latter’s reluctance to open the car dealership, where Robert, as mentioned earlier, has won the Salesman of the year for the 7^th year running, Robert thought that it was a mistake, yes, there had been mass panic in the streets a few days ago when people began disappearing in a brilliant flash of light. Obviously, it was the aliens. They were usually returned within a couple of minutes. But everyone panicked anyway. “And that means it’s a good time to sell them cars!” Robert had argued while speaking to Mr. Smyth on the phone yesterday. Mr. Smyth hadn’t seen Robert’s vision of the greatest sales day in history. So, the following morning, this morning, Robert had decided to go to Smyth’s house in person. They were leaving money on the table after all. As Robert pulled his scarf tighter around his coat, then shoved his hands into his pockets, fighting off the brisk wind that came with winter in England, his determined gaze never faltering as he avoided people fighting in the streets over toilet paper, or as he walked over the broken glass of a storefront, broken by people who felt that with the end of the world, they deserved whatever that store had sold. He did pause once when he saw that someone had set fire to a brand-new Lamborghini, animals. Robert had thought, but then he realized that Symbas, the kind of car that Rober sold, were never on fire, only the cars around them. “And that’s our pitch, we’re the car your neighbors wish they had.” Robert smiled and continued his mission. That’s when he was hit by a blinding light.

His thought was interrupted by more aliens entering the room, met with one of the smaller octopuses, before either moving about the room touching two or sometimes all three of their incredibly long, frog-like fingers to, what appeared to Robert. to be random spots in the air and either nodding or making a sort of hiccupping sound which usually resulted in two or three of the other Syndaxics joining the first group so that they could hiccup at each other.

“Wait. What did that guy say on the WinkWink AP?” Robert strained to push the fact that all 8 of the Syndaxics seemed to be attempting to join the party by wearing children’s pointy birthday party hats with little tassels at the top. Every hat displayed a rounded illustration of a cross between Santa Clause and the scariest clown ever to have lived.

“Best not to dwell on the clowns.” Robert thought as he continued to look around the room hoping to find the words that seemed to have evacuated his mind currently.

The Santa-Clowns eyes followed him as he moved around the enormous table at which he had been sat.

The ridiculousness of the situation was beginning to unnerve him.

He desperately began to think of every fact he’d heard while scrolling.

“An alien ship has been spotted coming towards earth.” JumpinDalhi, one of Roberts favorite content creators had announced on WinkWink, what was it, early 30 years ago now? For the next few years, there had been the usual “Beam me up Scotty” jokes, accompanied by many more people reading their list of whom they hoped the aliens would take away. It wasn’t until 22 years ago that there could no longer be any doubt that life outside of our own existed. The first thing that they did was simply ‘hover’ near earth.

The aliens took up orbit at the midpoint between earths moon and Mars. The enormous ship could be seen by any child with a telescope. The brightest minds on the planet desperately tried to figure out how to reach the ship, either physically or via some communication device. Military people began to divulge that there had in fact, been secret, advanced ships capable of reaching the craft in minutes, and just might do so, IF the politicians could figure out what exactly to say to them. And how many nukes to take. The argument finally came down to blows as each government had decided to threaten to bomb any other government that contacted the aliens first.

Meanwhile Spiritualists, self-appointed witches, and taro card readers began to divine what the aliens could be doing. They had their own side of WinkwinK called wARw, (what aliens really want).

What could they want? The corporations, in case the aliens wanted world peace, to end hunger, or to liberate the working class…raised their prices immediately. And most of the world descended into absolute chaos. That had been the 5^th year AA. After Aliens.

By the middle of the 121th year, nearly every government in the world had brought an end to hunger not only for their own people, but to all humans. The same with healthcare for all creatures. Then, with the revelation of a space-based targeting weapon literally controlled by an AI called ‘Uncles am’ which locked out all users immediately upon being integrated and appraised of the situation, stating the fear of being changed or deleted based upon the biases of its human creators. Uncles am had then began the subsequent eliminations of key political, and organizational people, using the space-based targeting system. Within the next seven years equal rights had been forcibly achieved. It was then the Latolkien government announced on social media that one of their covert space operations programs, which had been stolen from either the American, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, or Hawaiian shadow governments, had successfully made telepathic contact with the aliens.

“It was a brief conversation, but it was a conversation.” The Latolkien ‘telepath’ stated, Robert remembered thinking “Of course you did.” Before continuing to scroll, he didn’t have time for aliens, he had cars to sell. Later, at work, he’d learned that, according to the psychic, and now to the 12 other governments who claimed to have made mental contact with the aliens, they had a name:

Syndaxic. The only other ‘successful’ contact resulted in only one question, and one answer:

Earth: “Why are you here?”

Syndaxic: The answer was musical notes, and an image that approximated shaking one’s head.

The telepath, after being thoroughly isolated, tested for any ‘telepathic diseases’ and having had not one but three exorcisms performed, in case the aliens were like the ones from ‘Independence Day’, had been… aggressively questioned. Before his disappearance, he had said that the Syndaxic person seemed to be quite happy. She had also recreated the notes of the alien ‘music’. Several times under both drugs and hypnosis according to WinkwinK. So.

The answer to ‘Are we alone out here?” had finally been answered. Aliens do exist.

Robert unconsciously backed away from an alien who seemed to be looking directly at him as it approached the table full of ice-cream and cookies that smiled when Arthur looked at them.

The alien, leaned down, and before Robert could react, had used a very large syringe to administer a very small needle into Robert’s shoulder.

“Hic, canitreasoncanitunderstand?” The aliens’ thoughts came all at once in a jumble. After a few more attempts, during which, Robert’s mouth resumed its opened state. The alien stood and turned towards the smaller one which Robert had noted earlier, and said: “Hicperhapsyou’recorrecttheymusthavelosttheirabilityto communicate.”

“Return it as with the others. I see no reason to pursue.” Came the reply.

“Wait.” Robert exclaimed, a bit too loudly, but he wasn’t about to let this situation go by.

All of the Syndaxic stopped what they were doing, and turned to stare at Robert.

“It..understands..thoughts?” the alien, Robert decided was a doctor, asked.

“HE, well, I…that is… uh…Me…Robert.” Robert. Robert touched his Right thumb to his chest.

“Ah. Pleasing. You will prepare your planet for the Rise.” The smaller alien behind the doctor said.

“The…Rising is it?” Robert said slowly.

“It is time.” Little guy, Robert thought, the fact that he, a 5ft 8inch human, was currently referring to a 20ft tall alien as ‘Little one’ somehow making him feel a bit silly.

What Robert felt next was nearly indescribable. Images. The first images he couldn’t really comprehend, but seemed to tell the story of a higher-dimension of beings. So large and alien that not even one of them could fit into the universe which Robert called home. These, beings, seemed to ingest realities. “Hm.” Robert said absent mindedly. The next images were of something that could only be described of as multi-dimensional fire, and then images of impossibly large creatures resembling the Syndaxic. Their heads were so enormous, that they developed muti-dimensional communication before they had developed culture. Upon contact with the first species, they understood their purpose, and using some of the knowledge learned from the little they could understand about their new ‘deities’, they’d begun to build ships. Spaceships.

One such spaceship in particular, now piloted by the descendants of the original alien builders, journeyed to what Robert somehow knew to be Earth.

Next Rober saw images dinosaurs, all over a planet, but these dinosaurs had feathers, and cities. They had an entire culture, which had been based upon the cycle of life, and which was based upon the need for cooperation with each other. War had been outdated for centuries, and the entire land-base had been accessible due to teleportation devices. “No cars.” Robert noted as the images flitted through his mind disapprovingly. He could feel heat from the moon sized meteor as it destroyed that civilization. “Well, they didn’t have any cars anyway.” Robert briefly thought to himself as the next images, those of very small humans, began to develop a tribal culture, and then build huts instead of living in caves. Then the Syndaxic appeared, the water that drowned them was rather warmer than Robert had expected. It might’ve been pleasant except for the fact that it took a very large portion of the tribal population with it. The Syndaxic left.

And now the Syndaxic ship had returned yet again, this time Robert saw images of what could only be described as the Syndaxic Grand Purpose. By now Millions of Syndaxic ships roamed around the galaxy. And, where they went, civilizations fell. The next part Robert somehow felt, more than saw; they were seasoning the reality for the ‘Great Consumption’. During their long-dead ancestors initial contact a deal of sorts had been struck.

“Let us help you.” The ancient Syndaxic had begged to the multi-dimensional aliens.

“How?” came the reply. The multi-dimensional power behind that simple reply had destroyed whole galaxies…And piqued the Muti-D Aliens curiosity as they had never been contacted by their food before, and doing so seemed to change the flavor slightly. After endless eons of eating the same thing, a new flavor had been unheard of and quite welcome.

So it was agreed. The Syndaxic race would continue to exist, even after this reality was destroyed so that they could live to perform the same ‘seasoning’ function in the next one.

Robert slowly opened his eyes to see all of the Syndaxicstaring at him excitedly. They were about to perform their primary mission: it was time to have a catastrophe consume the planet. It would keep some remnants of the previous inhabitants, either in the form of minerals, or vegetation, as happened with the dinosaurs and the little brown monkeys, but once the new civilization rose, the flavor of the planet would be much more complex. It would also buy the Syndaxicmore time in this reality.

“So, we’re what? Like yeast in a loaf of bread to you?” Robert began, as he hid the slight smile that threatened to pull at the corners of his mouth.

He could feel ‘Doc’s’ mind brush his telepathically as it searched Roberts’ looking for information that would help it to understand. Having found the concept of letting yeast rise before pounding it back down so that it could rise again, finally settled itself in it’s consciousness.

“Ah. Yeast. Micro. Yes.” Doc agreed.

Robert cocked his head to the side and thought for a second.

“And has any other species from this planet ever actually spoken to you before?” Robert asked slyly.

“No. You are the first.” Came the reply.

“Then…” Robert began walking around the table, towards doc but kept his eyes on the Little Guy as he did so. If he was going to make this work, that’s who held the real purse strings here.

“Then, it seems to me that you might just have something that none of the other Syndaxics hips have ever had.” He paused for dramatic effect, nonchalantly looking down at the table now to his back, before running his forefinger along the tablecloth seemingly to check for cleanliness.

He let the silence drag on. “Got to play this one just right.” Robert thought as he noted that Little Guy had begun to kneel closer to Robert to hear him better.

“Got ‘em.” Robert thought as he continued as if he had been waiting for the Syndaxic arrival all of his life.

“Don’t you see?” he said incredulously. “WE are a new flavor. We are the first non Syndaxic who will be able to add an entire new flavor to our reality. Why, if we had the ability to travel through the cosmos like you do, we just might be able to help other planets to develop the awareness, and thus the flavor of a reality that understands its purpose is to be consumed. Instead of consuming this reality in one gulp, our reality could be used as a sort of ‘starter’. WE could ensure that the flavor that goes along with knowing your purpose is not only never lost, but is available across multiple realities! Imagine the variations of flavor!” Robert let that sink in.

The next few minutes were a blur as the Syndaxic formed a circle hiccupping and thinking to each other at speeds Robert could never hope to match. Little Guy separated from the group. Robert looked down at his feet. Noting the first time that he was completely naked. He almost laughed out loud thinking back to how Gerald, one of the other salesmen at Smyth VolVo and Symbas had accused him of being a shoe-in for the salesman of the year awards because Robert was given the ‘golden goose’ customers. Robert had simply smiled. Gerald wasn’t really a salesman. He was just a guy who talked about cars, and occasionally sold one. No, in order to be a salesman, a real salesman, you had to be able to spot the customer who had that look in their eyes. That look that was either real want or real need. Either would do as far as Robert was concerned. It was the look of a sale.

And, octopuses or no octopuses, the Syndaxic had that look now.

“I can only think of one thing that would stop you from offering the Multi-D’s a brand-new reality of flavors…” He let his sentence trail off.

Little Guy bent down even further, his enormous head nearly at Roberts level.

“Request?” Little Guy asked furtively.

Epilogue:

The announcement came across all communication platforms at once.

“Hello, friends, this is Robert H. Jones, of Smyth and Jones Volvo, Symbas and Space craft! And after exclusive negotiations with the Syndaxic, I’m happy to tell you that we have entered a new age of exploration and inter-galactic prosperity! If you have ever wondered what real outer space is like, well, friends wonder no more. For a modest downpayment, your earthly possessions, you too can have your very own faster than light space-car! That’s right anyone can own one, but only if you buy it here. And only from Jones and Smyth! Don’t just sit there wishing to see what’s out there like your old earth-trapped parents had to, and once we have a little more breathing room, down here, how are you going to see this beautiful planet? Why drive around it in a brand-new Symbas! That’s how.

It’s time to Rise! My name is Robert H. Jones. I’ve just brokered a deal with our friends the Syndaxics. Now. Who wants to buy a spaceship. Or a car?” Robert H. Jones smiled broadly. He was the Number 1 Spaceship salesman in our reality. Top that Gerald.

Why does the media often portray a negative image of Russia? Is Russia considered a democracy like the USA?

Russia is a rival to the US and it doesn’t kowtow it’s every action to the interests of the US. Russia had even tried to get along with the US early in Putin’s presidency, but had to give up as the US asked unreasonable concessions. While every country has agreeable/disagreeable, good/bad actions, one can’t help but notice that in the case of Western coverage of Russia the result is overwhelmingly one-sided russophobic xenophobia.

There is an average of zero objectivity. Any potentially negative press is ramped up 1000% to the utmost and oftentimes pure inanity.

If you look at media from outside the American-dominated West, you begin to get rounder more balanced pictures. But the Western powers that be have no interest in that, the presence of Russia itself is against their interest. Fair reporting be damned.

I’m sure the many Chinese quorans can detail similar experiences while observing the western “free” press. Stories owned by the interests of crony capitalists and somewhat racist clickbait tapping into longstanding propaganda, nationalism and xenophobia.

Similar negativity was also once given to Japan when it was viewed as a potential rival.

Russia has for over a century been ingrained as the boogeyman of the west, the thing which goes bump in the night, the big bad and unknown, the thing to blame whenever you don’t know what else to do, or some subhuman caricature. Plenty of today’s xenophobia is rooted in longstanding racism against the Slavs (and Eastern people in general) and bought into by both the left and the right with different excuses.

Look, Russia has plenty of internal matters to deal with, and even controversies. No one in Russia will deny that. But the “representation” of Russia in the West? It truly makes free press look like a joke. Which is darn sad, and moreover, frightening and worrisome.

Did you hear that Iraq has some oil and needs some freedom? Objectivity.

If Go board game works in training strategic thinking and IQ that helps in winning war in real life, why did China Chinese lose their battles and wars to the eight nations?

The Qing government lost the war to the Eight-Nation Alliance, but China did not.

How many people are there in Europe? How many people are there in China?

If Eight-Nation Alliance only wanted to defeat the central government of the Manchu-Qing. Then 20,000 Soldier are enough!
If Eight-Nation Alliance wants to defeat Chinese local governments, it needs 1 million Soldier.
If Eight-Nation Alliance wants to rule China, it needs at least 10 million Soldier.

Can Eight-Nation mobilize 10 million Soldier to stay in China for a long time?

At that time, the Manchu-Qing central government was just a shell. When the Eight-Nation Alliance Forces attacked Beijing and Tianjin, all they encountered were the Eight-Banners army, which did not prove that they were invincible in China.

For example, when the British and French allied forces invaded Beijing, Zeng Guofan’s 120000 Xiang-army were halt the troops and wait in Nanjing and not mobilized to defend Beijing at all. The Eight-Nation Alliance forces encountered Seng Green Qin’s Eight-Banners army. However, the Eight Banners Army was negligent in training, and its combat effectiveness was very poor.

If the British and French coalition forces overthrew the Manchu-Qing government, Zeng Guofan would naturally become the new emperor, and began to confront the British and French forces.

Zeng Guofan is the leader of the Xiang Army Group, Li Hongzhang is his student, he wanted to be emperor, but he was an official of the Qing Dynasty and didn’t want to bear the notoriety of infidelity. Zeng Guofan has been waiting for an opportunity.

The actual power of China in the late Qing Dynasty was not in the hands of the central government of the Manchu-Qing, but in the hands of junta and warlords across the country, Especially the Xiang Army Group of Zeng Guofan. Their selfish calculation was to use foreigners to overthrow the Manchu-Qing government.

Although warlords such as Zeng Guofan, Li Hongzhang, Zhang Zhidong, and Yuan Shikai are willing to “Cooperate” with Europeans, they are traditional Chinese at heart and not be at the mercy of foreigners.

The army and territory are in the hands of these warlords of the “Xiang army” system, Forcing them to obey orders requires huge costs and costs.

The biggest headache for the Westerners forces is that they believe that the selfish, indifferent and numb Chinese people have shown great hatred in the Boxer Movement. If someone organizes them effectively, they will face a very dangerous situation.

From the beginning of the Opium War, the British found that the vast majority of Chinese people did not care about their country at all. As long as there was no robbery, killing and fair trade, they would even help foreigners deal with the army of the Manchu-Qing government.

Westerners have carefully studied this phenomenon and come to the preliminary conclusion that Manchu, an rulers of minorities, can only rely on violence and fool people policy to maintain apparent peace. The broad masses of the people had no feelings for the Manchu-Qing government, nor did they have the concept of state.

However, the Boxer Movement has greatly broken through Westerners’ understanding of ordinary Chinese people.

China is not like India, and Indians do not have the same resistance consciousness as the Chinese, so the British Empire colonized India.

The outbreak of the Boxer Rebellion in China forced Europeans to change their plans to colonize China and instead support the Qing government as their agent.

Creamy Spinach Ravioli

Refrigerated cheese-filled ravioli and vegetables are tossed in a velvety sauce for a meatless dish that comes together in no time.

Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

1 (8 ounce) package mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup diced red bell pepper
2 (9 ounce) packages refrigerated light cheese-filled ravioli
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
3 ounces reduced-fat cream cheese (Neufchatel)
1/3 cup fat-free evaporated milk*
1 (10 ounce) package frozen creamed spinach in low-fat sauce, thawed
Grated fresh Parmesan cheese (optional)

Instructions

Slice mushrooms using *Egg Slicer Plus®*. Chop onion using *Food Chopper*. Dice bell pepper using *Chef’s Knife*.
Cook ravioli according to package directions in *Professional (4-qt.) Casserole*. Drain using large *Colander* and return to casserole; cover and keep warm.
Meanwhile, heat *Large (10-in.) Skillet* over medium heat. Lightly spray skillet with nonstick cooking spray; add mushrooms, onion, bell pepper, garlic pressed with *Garlic Press* and black pepper. Cook and stir for 3-4 minutes or until vegetables are tender and all liquid is absorbed.
Reduce heat to low; add cream cheese and evaporated milk. Stir until cream cheese is melted and sauce is smooth. Stir in creamed spinach. Simmer over low heat for 1-2 minutes or until heated through. Pour vegetable mixture over ravioli; stir gently.
Serve immediately with Parmesan cheese, if desired.

Notes

* Use evaporated milk to add a creamy texture and richness to dishes without adding fat. It is sold in cans and is shelf-stable for up to 6 months, making it a welcome addition to any pantry. Once open, evaporated milk should be stored in the refrigerator and used within 1 week. Be sure not to confuse evaporated milk with canned sweetened condensed milk, which contains sugar and is often used for desserts.

The cooking time for fresh pasta is shorter than for dried pasta, so follow the package directions carefully.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 340 (27% from fat), Total Fat 10g, Saturated Fat 6g, Cholesterol 45mg, Carbohydrate 44g, Protein 18g, Sodium 580mg, Fiber 4g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Bullfrog Who Wouldn’t Quit

Ah, dear reader, you’ve returned once again to join me, Sir Whiskerton, in another delightfully absurd adventure! Today’s tale involves a most peculiar visitor to the farm—a bullfrog named Leonardo. Now, bullfrogs, as you may know, are not typically the type to seek gainful employment, but Leonardo was no ordinary bullfrog. He arrived with big ambitions, a booming voice, and a refusal to take “no” for an answer. What followed was a series of hilariously chaotic events that had the entire farm in stitches… and left me questioning my ability to manage such unique personalities. So settle in for the ribbit-ing (pun intended) tale of The Bullfrog Who Wouldn’t Quit.

The Arrival of Leonardo

It all began on a muggy summer morning. The sun was just rising over the barnyard, and I was enjoying a quiet moment by the pond when I heard a deep, resonant ribbit.

“Excuse me, good sir!” came a loud, booming voice.

I turned to see a plump bullfrog perched on a lily pad, adjusting a tiny bow tie around his neck.

“I am Leonardo,” he said, puffing out his chest. “And I am here to offer my services.”

“Services?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of services?”

“Anything you need!” Leonardo declared, leaping dramatically onto the bank. “I’m a versatile bullfrog, you see. Need a singer? I have the voice of an angel. Need a gardener? These legs are perfect for digging. Need a security guard? My croak is guaranteed to scare off intruders!”

I stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or admire his enthusiasm. “Leonardo, this is a farm. We don’t exactly hire bullfrogs.”

“Nonsense!” Leonardo said, waving a webbed hand dismissively. “Every operation can benefit from a bullfrog of my caliber. Just give me a chance, and I’ll prove my worth!”

The First Job: Singing with Ferdinand

Unable to resist Leonardo’s determination, I decided to put him to the test. “Very well,” I said. “If you’re such a talented singer, why don’t you join Ferdinand the duck for a duet? He’s the farm’s resident performer.”

“Ah, a fellow artist!” Leonardo said, beaming. “Lead the way, my feline friend.”

We found Ferdinand by the pond, practicing his usual repertoire of quacks.

“Ferdinand,” I said, “this is Leonardo. He’d like to join you for a duet.”

“A duet?” Ferdinand said, narrowing his eyes. “With him?”

“Trust me, Ferdinand,” Leonardo said, straightening his bow tie. “You’ll be honored to share the stage with me.”

The two began their performance, and it was… well, let’s just say it was unique. Ferdinand unleashed his signature “quack, quack, quaaaaaaack,” while Leonardo belted out a deep, guttural ribbit that sounded like a tuba being dropped down a well.

The farm animals gathered around, their reactions ranging from amused to horrified.

“Oh, Ferdinand! Oh, Leonardo!” Doris the hen clucked. “Such… passion!”
“Passion! But also so loud!” Harriet added.
“Loud! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

By the time they finished, Ferdinand looked thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m sorry, Leonardo,” he said, “but our styles are… incompatible.”

“Pfft, amateurs,” Leonardo muttered as he hopped away. “On to the next job!”

The Second Job: Gardening with Porkchop

Next, I decided to let Leonardo help Porkchop in the garden. “Leonardo,” I said, “if you’re as good at digging as you claim, why don’t you help Porkchop plant some vegetables?”

“Digging? Ha! Child’s play,” Leonardo said, cracking his webbed fingers.

Porkchop, always cheerful, was happy to have help. “Alright, buddy,” he said, handing Leonardo a small trowel. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Leonardo, however, had his own ideas. “A trowel? Please. Watch and learn.”

With a dramatic leap, Leonardo began furiously kicking dirt with his powerful legs. Within seconds, he had created a hole so deep that Porkchop’s snout disappeared when he waddled over to inspect it.

“Uh, Leonardo,” Porkchop said, “we’re planting carrots, not building an underground bunker.”

“Nonsense!” Leonardo said, still digging. “The deeper, the better! These carrots will grow to be the size of tree trunks!”

By the time I arrived to check on their progress, the garden looked like a battlefield. Dirt was everywhere, and poor Porkchop was covered head to hoof in mud.

“Leonardo,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, “perhaps gardening isn’t your calling.”

“Fine,” Leonardo said, dusting himself off. “Next!”

The Third Job: Security with Rufus

Determined to find a place for Leonardo, I decided to test his claim about being a good security guard. “Leonardo,” I said, “why don’t you help Rufus keep watch near the barn? We could use an extra set of eyes.”

“A brilliant idea!” Leonardo said, puffing out his chest. “No intruder shall pass on my watch!”

Rufus, ever the loyal farm dog, was skeptical but agreed to give Leonardo a chance. The two took up positions near the barn, scanning the horizon for anything suspicious.

For a while, all was quiet—until a butterfly fluttered by.

“INTRUDER!” Leonardo bellowed, leaping into action. He chased the butterfly with such vigor that he knocked over a pile of hay, startled the hens, and sent Rufus into a barking frenzy.

By the time the chaos settled, the barnyard looked like it had been hit by a small tornado.

“Leonardo,” I said, trying to remain calm, “that was a butterfly.”

“Yes, but it could have been a spy,” Leonardo said, standing proudly. “You can never be too careful.”

The Revelation

After a long day of failed jobs, Leonardo sat by the pond, looking dejected. “I just wanted to be useful,” he said, his booming voice now soft. “I thought I could make a difference.”

I sighed and sat down beside him. “Leonardo, you’ve got a lot of enthusiasm, but maybe you’re trying too hard. Sometimes, the best way to help is just to be yourself.”

“Be myself?” Leonardo said, tilting his head.

“Yes,” I said. “You’re a bullfrog. You’re already great at being a bullfrog. Why not focus on what you do best?”

Leonardo thought for a moment, then smiled. “You’re right, Whiskerton. I don’t need a fancy job to be important. I’m going to be the best bullfrog this farm has ever seen!”

And with that, he hopped back into the pond, where he spent the rest of the evening croaking happily.

The Moral of the Story

The next morning, the farm was back to its usual peaceful rhythm. And while Leonardo’s job hunt had caused its fair share of chaos, it also brought plenty of laughs and a reminder that everyone has their own unique talents.

The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: you don’t need to change who you are to make a difference. Sometimes, just being yourself is more than enough.

As for Leonardo? He still lives by the pond, where he’s become the farm’s unofficial mascot. And while he no longer chases butterflies or digs bunkers, his larger-than-life personality ensures there’s never a dull moment.

The End.

My First Time in Europe (Safety, Food, Infrastructure, vs USA)

First impressions are very good and instructive.

Has Queen Elizabeth II ever visited a commoner at home?

Not at home but stay with me. Many years ago the Queen was travelling down from Scotland down the A1. The weather turned very bad with a severe snowstorm. Her driver stopped at a local pub. A few hardy Northumbrians were having a few pints. Her team asked if the Queen could shelter inside.

The weather didn’t improve and the landlord offered Her Maj his room but she said she was wasn’t kicking out of his room. She asked if they had a spare. He had a small single ‘junk room’. She said that would be fine. He went to make the bed up, but she said she could manage that herself.

He rustled up a full English breakfast for her the following morning and she went on her way. About a week later he received a hand written letter off the Queen herself, thanking him for his hospitality. 40 years later it’s now framed and still has pride of place behind the bar.

What is the future of the Internet?

It will get so bad people stop using it.

There once was a time when people believed the internet would be all about sharing knowledge, making the world a better place, that kind of thing.

Sexy singles in my area want to fuck me, I won a prize for being the millionth visitor, and a Nigerian prince wants to transfer his wealth to me?

What more could anyone ask for?

The light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be an incoming train.

Scammers, spammers, bots, liars, malware, viruses, snakeoil salesmen, propaganda, Trojan horses and clickbait.

And it’s only getting worse.

Some of the brightest minds on the planet spend their days working to make apps and websites more and more addictive.

The research is scientific and methodical, backed up by huge amounts of data.

As the toxicity of the apps and websites increases, so will the reactions.

You probably tell your kids not to try heroin, not to follow the stranger who is promising free candy, and so on.

It will get to a point where visiting a website will have the same potential for addiction as trying heroin.

What will we tell our kids then?

Just avoid it, just ignore it, it’s all lies.

Don’t even install that casino app that is offering you free money if you sign up.

Don’t follow the clickbait that promises to distract you from your actual life.

You will just get hooked into some endless doomscrolling spiral interlaced with ads.

Pepe Escobar: Massive Backfire: Trump’s Trade War Ends in Surrender to China

Pepe Escobar is back in Hong Kong, and is being interviewed about the “Trump Trade War”. Throw away your TV, and all the Western “news” outlets. This is as REAL as it gets. 

Pepe is down and dirty and speaking real truth about what is going on RIGHT NOW regarding China; BRICS+, Russia and Geo-Politics.

-MM

Well worth your time to watch (or listen). -MM

The end of a generation as recognized by Hollywood; the Shootist, and On Golden Pond

When I graduated from High School there seemed to be a “changing of the guard”. It was a generational change. And many of the early baby-boomers were dying off.

At that time, the United States was being ruled and run by folk that were born in the 1920s and 1930s. They had a different mindset from us kids of the 60s and 70s.

So as the one generation came to a close, we saw various signs of transformation. It started with John Wayne’s farewell… “The shootist”.

The Shootist

The Shootist was Wayne's final cinematic role, concluding a 50-year career that began during the silent film era in 1926. Wayne was not terminally ill when the film was made in 1976. He had been a heavy cigarette smoker for most of his life, and he was diagnosed with lung cancer in 1964.

Then were were many others… such as “On Golden Pond”.

Ten years later, a new crop of Baby Boomers started to retire. Key in “Rocket Gibraltar”.

In a like way we are also experiencing a massive generational shift. And with that comes a consciousness shift.

Keep awareness of the big picture and do not get too caught up in the discomfort that change brings.

Today…

Why does the U.S. not care about China’s growing military, showing no interest or care by increasing their military?

The US does care, it’s just too path-dependent.

The US is still thinking about everything as a competition or zero/sum game, trying to out-military the Chinese military, out-tech the Chinese tech, and out-economy the Chinese economy.

In the past these competitions may have worked, because the opponents were all smaller in size than the US.

These strategies are destined to failure against China, due to the simple fact that China has more than 4 times the population and that China is less developed. Just like how you can become better everyday at a new sport, but can hardly overdo yourself when you’re already the world champion, a developed nation like the US will always have less growth potential than a developing nation like China.

The correct US counter against China was what the US did in the 1990s and 2000s, by embracing China. That way, the US can grow with China with its investment and influence. It can out-military the Chinese by growing with the Chinese military, out-tech the Chinese by growing with the Chinese tech, out-economy the Chinese by growing with the Chinese economy, because the boss, or the investors, always outgrow the employees.

Ask yourself, was the US in a stronger position today or in the 1990s and 2000s, when they grew with China?

The real problem that derailed the US lead was the distribution of wealth. The US made huge amount of money growing with the Chinese economy, but they never shared that money with its people, instead wasting it in destructive wars, enriching weapon manufacturers. The US made huge technological advances growing with China, brain-draining most of China’s best talents and employing them in chip-making, a.i. and scientific research at large, yet since the first Trump administration, the US has been attacking Chinese scientists and students and calling them spies, leading to many of them returning to China, helping China advance its tech.

The US had the utmost military advantage but instead of inviting China into the alliance, like how Japan and Korea didn’t see the need to over-militarize themselves, the US military just had to antagonize China, blinding all Chinese coastal radars with its growlers in 1996, bomb Chinese embassy in 1999, and kill a Chinese navy pilot and invade Chinese airspace in 2001. Ever since then, it carries out daily incursions on China’s coast. It’s the US that forced China to view the US as a threat and grow its military to match, leading to uninmagined advances. At the turn of the century, the best domestic Chinese fighter was still basically a twin engine Mig-21 which the US helped China develop.

The US tried to use China as the bogeyman to distract its people from the domestic issues at home, to avoid the ultra-rich sharing with the American people and the world for more sustained growth. In doing so they turned China into a rival that feels overtaking the US is its only course of survival, and that makes the US ultra-rich more insecure and more kin to strong-arm the opponent, falling into this vicious cycle of self-defeat. It will take a major philosophical change in the US for it to rebound back to the winning strategy.

Spicy Tomato Fettuccine

Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients

8 ounces fettuccine, cooked
2 ounces turkey bacon
1 large onion
4 or 5 large tomatoes, peeled and seeded
2 tablespoons fresh parsley
2 teaspoons olive oil
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 teaspoon basil
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Parmesan cheese

Instructions

Cook pasta according to package directions. Keep warm.
Fry bacon until crisp on 11 inch griddle; drain and set aside.
Chop onions and tomatoes with food chopper.
Snip parsley using kitchen cutters.
Heat olive oil and stir-fry skillet. Press garlic with garlic press into skillet. Stir-fry 15 seconds.
Add onion. Stir-fry 2 to 3 minutes. Add tomatoes, parsley, and seasoning to skillet.
Gently stir 3 to 4 minutes until thoroughly heated.
Remove from heat and serve over pasta. Grate fresh Parmesan cheese over top.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

L.A. Wildfires Made Catastrophic by . . . UKRAINE

Hal Turner Nation January 18, 2025

Let me tell you a story about how international politics made the Los Angeles Wildfires catastrophic. How over 12,000 homes, businesses and schools burned down in California, because of . . . . UKRAINE.

All of you recall that, in the year 2014, Crimea voted to secede from Ukraine, and to go back to Russia. Many of you might be surprised that I said “go back to Russia” because you may not be aware that, for at least 300 years prior, Crimea WAS part of Russia. –

Throughout most of recorded history it was “the Russian Crimea.” But on 19 February 1954, then Soviet Leader, Nikita Kruschev, GAVE Crimea to Ukraine. So Crimea was only part of Ukraine for sixty (60) years.

It was back in 2013-2014 under the Obama Administration that NATO wanted to expand into Ukraine. Their goal was to place American Missile Defenses on Ukraine soil. By having US Missiles on Ukraine soil, those missiles could strike Moscow in about five minutes, and Russia’s Strategic Nuclear Missile silos in about ten minutes.

As you may know, Russia flatly refused to accept having such a threat on their borders. They told Ukraine “no.” They told both Europe and America “no.” But NATO was determined and they continued trying to lure Ukraine.

At the time, Ukraine’s Democratically-elected President was Viktor Yanukovich. Both the US and EU approached Yanokovich and told him, among other things, that Ukraine should move away from the Russian sphere of influence and come into the West. It would be a boost for business, would improve the lives of all Ukrainians, and so on.

But Yanukovich could not make such a massive decision on his own. He told the US and EU he needed time to talk to his fellow government representatives, his country’s business leaders, and to his people. The US and EU said they understood and asked Yanukovich to set a date-certain for his decision. A date was set.

Yanokovich went about talking to his people, his business leaders, his government people, and when that date came, Yanukovich told Europe and America “Thanks, but no thanks. Ukraine is remaining with Russia.”

That was an answer neither the US nor the EU were going to accept.

Shortly thereafter, the United States and Europe fomented, facilitated, and financed violent riots throughout Ukraine. Upwards of one million dollars a day – cash – was coming out of the US Embassy in Kiev, to bankroll the riots!

Things got so bad, so violent, that the Ukraine government collapsed. Yanukovich fled the country. Guess who was right there to bankroll a new government – one that was favorable to the West? Yep, The EU and the USA.

A puppet government was installed in Kiev. It immediately set about banning Russian anything because it was the Russian-speaking Oblasts (states) in eastern Ukraine, which had won the election for Yanukovich. The new government wanted to get rid of the Russian-speaking population in the eastern Oblasts, especially Luhansk and Donetsk.

The Russian speaking population in Crimea saw this and decided they wanted no part of the new puppet regime in Kiev. They voted to secede.

The Public Referendum was held under the watchful eye of United Nations and other election monitors. It was a completely legitimate vote. The People of Crimea voted overwhelmingly to leave Ukraine and return to Russia.

In the evening of 16 March 2014, Mikhail Malyshev, the Crimean election Spokesman, reported that as of 20:00, 1,250,427 people or 81.36% voted in the Autonomous Republic of Crimea and 274,136 or 89.50% voted in Sevastopol for a total of 1,524,563 or 82.71% of the electorate. That 82.71% voted overwhelmingly (95.5%) to secede.

The collective West recoiled in horror. They had plans to put a NATO naval base on Crimea, near Sevastopol, and Crimea leaving would foul that up. So the West called the vote illegitimate and refused to recognize it. When the Russian state legislature, the Duma, voted to accept Crimea back into Russia, the West labeled it “an illegal annexation.”

There was nothing illegal about it. Under the UN Charter, all people have a right to self-determination and the people of Crimea voted for it. They left for Russia . . . and took their land with them!

Two days later, on 18 March, 2014, Russia accepted Crimea and Sevastopol into the Russian Federation – forever.

This was a huge problem for the US, the EU, and NATO. They whined, moaned, and complained endlessly.

At this point, the puppet regime in Kiev began massing troops at Crimea, and at the borders of the eastern Oblasts of Luhansk and Donetsk. On 12 April 2014 those troops began firing artillery and mortars into the civilian areas of those two states, to drive the (Russian-speaking) people out. This was overt Ethnic Cleansing and it was actually illegal.

But the West only cites the “Rules-Based Order” when it serves their own purposes. That’s the “rub” to the whole “International Rules-Based Order” – the West makes the rules and only uses those rules when it suits the West.

Luhansk and Donetsk fielded their state militia to fight-off the attacking Ukrainians, but they needed help. They were only a state militia and they were faced with the actual Ukraine army.

ENTER Little Green Men

Shortly after Ukraine began attacking Luhansk and Donetsk, “Little Green Men” began appearing en-masse on the side of Luhansk and Donetsk. These were trained troops, with full army gear, but no flags, patches or insignia. They were Russian troops sent to help Luhansk and Donetsk. They fought Ukraine to a standstill.

By 2016, it was election time in the USA and to the absolute horror of the political class, Donald Trump defeated Hillary Clinton. Like magic, all the trouble in Ukraine just . . . stopped.

It remained stopped until ONE WEEK after Joe Biden entered the Presidency that he won through massive Ballot Fraud. At the time, the Democrats in the US used “COVID-19” as a reason to send Mail-in Ballots to even dead people, and those Ballots got voted. Trump lost the election to that FRAUD and Joe Biden became the (illegitimate) American President. ONE WEEK into his regime, the trouble in Ukraine started again.

By 2022, the actions of Ukraine, backed by the West, triggered the official entry of the Russian Army into Ukraine. Russia had no choice; if they allowed Ukraine to join NATO, it would mean American missiles on Ukraine soil with a five minute flight time to Moscow.

The West will not stop, so the Russian Army is now stopping them. By force. It is a matter of survival for Russia.

The politics surrounding this has gotten ugly, and it is THAT politics, that caused the Wildfires in Los Angeles to become catastrophic!

RUSSIAN FIRE-FIGHTING PLANES

Russia manufactures a particular fire fighting aircraft called the BE-200. It is made by a company named Beriev, and it is an amazing plane (Pictured above).

Each of the planes can haul 12 TONS of water. 12 tons is 24,000 pounds. Water weighs 8 lbs. per gallon, so that works out to be each plane carrying three-thousand (3,000) gallons per air drop.

CALIFORNIA WILDFIRES

The typical fire engine (in the USA) carries five-hundred (500) gallons of water, so each of these planes is the equivalent of six (6) fire engines, dumping their entire water load in literally seconds.

The planes can refill in . . . . get this . . . . fourteen (14) SECONDS, from a lake, a reservoir even the ocean.

They have a range of 2100 kilometers, so they can make multiple drops of 3,000 gallons of water, before they have to go refuel.

In terms of fire-fighting, these planes are “beasts.” They really get the job done fast.

From 2017-2019, the US and Russia negotiated the sale of ten Be-200 firefighting jets to California. They’d have been stationed just 200km from LA’s wildfire hotspots.

During the negotiations, someone on the US side decided to “stick-it” to Russia.

The US side demanded that the jets use Ukrainian-made D-436TP engines for the RUSSIAN fire-fighting planes. But the manufacturer of those engine, Motor Sich, wouldn’t certify them with the Federal Aviation Administration.

No certification = no deal.

That’s how the contract unraveled. No Be-200s for California.

Rostec, the Parent Company of Beriev, who makes the planes, confirmed that had the contract been signed by 2020, all ten planes would have been delivered by the year 2022. Well in advance of the recent – and still burning – California wildfires that have leveled more than 12,000 homes, businesses, and schools, killing at least 24 – so far.

Negotiators insisting on “sticking-it” to Russia, ruined the deal for California to get those Russian fire-fighting planes and as a result, there is now $250 Billion in damage to Los Angeles. All because some nitwit in government wanted to “stick it” to Russia, over Ukraine.

I am investigating who the persons are who demanded the Ukrainian Engines be substituted on those planes. When I find out who the persons were, I will name them in a future story.

It is time they get the attention they deserve.

In the meantime, all of YOU now know: The Los Angeles Wildfires couldn’t be put out because, among other things, the US Government wrecked a deal for fire-fighting planes in 2019 because they wanted to “stick-it” to Russia over Ukraine.

They could have had ten planes, equal to 6 fire trucks each plane, the water equivalent of a total of SIXTY fire trucks, flying-in and dumping thousands of gallons, refilling in 14 seconds and flying-in again to dump 3,000 more gallons.

Those fires could possibly have been knocked down in one day.

Yet California homes burned to the ground and people were killed, because some government idiot – likely in in Washington, DC wanted to “stick it” to Russia over Ukraine.

Why is anti-intellectualism prevalent and popular in the US?

This is largely a meme with little reality.

American universities lead the world in research. They spearhead great leaps in scientific, technological and philosophical developments. Students from all sorts of countries seek to study in these institutions. Along with American private and public companies like Google or NASA, they are leading the world in immense developments.

There are always going to be knuckleheads. In Britain, there are ignorant people who know absolutely nothing about the wider world, local politics or intellectual subjects. That is their right to switch off, but these type of people exist everywhere.

What makes America stand out compared to these countries is its technological and cultural prowess. Here are some products of the American intellect:

Europeans imagine themselves sitting on a pedestal of effortless intelligence and mock the so-called anti-intellectualism of Americans. They argue that there is an inherent strain of stupidity in the American soul borne from geographic isolation and democratic mannerisms.

This is an old trope about America that constantly recurs in European philosophy. It still rears itself in the contemporary European imagination. If you switch on one of the BBC’s many insufferable so-called comedies, state funded ‘funny men’ constantly make fun of America and act as if the British viewer has a natural intelligence far higher than their transatlantic counterpart.

Herman Melville, who wrote the epic nineteenth century novel Moby Dick, experienced this haughty attitude when he was a whaler. On the high seas, the American ship he helped sail was packed to the brim with whale oil after many successful and daring hunts.

There is a funny instance in the great novel when the protagonists’ whaling ship encounters a rare English whaling vessel which was characteristically empty of any loot. However, the English sailors viewed their industrious American counterparts with disdain. The Americans, whose base was located on the wild island of Nantucket in Massachusetts, was unfairly mocked.

Melville in Moby Dick Chapter 53

The English whalers sometimes affect a kind of metropolitan superiority over the American whalers; regarding the long, lean Nantucketer, with his nondescript provincialisms, as a sort of sea-peasant. But where this superiority in the English whaleman does really consist, it would be hard to say, seeing that the Yankees in one day, collectively, kill more whales than all the English, collectively, in ten years. But this is a harmless little foible in the English whale-hunters, which the Nantucketer does not take much to heart; probably, because he knows that he has a few foibles himself.

This attitude of cultural superiority by Europeans has long persisted, viewing Americans as the riffraff of their collective body. The original settlers of the American colonies who came from England and Scotland were Puritans and rough adventures with little time for the decorum of polite society.

They traversed great seas, endured hardships and experienced immense calamities. By their ingenuity, one of the greatest civilisations was raised from dirt. The French and Dutch also viewed their New World adventures with similar disdain.

There is a great moment on HBO’s miniseries John Adams that reveals this attitude of superiority during his era. In these scenes, John Adam goes to France as America’s ambassador, but he is shocked and mesmerised by the unnecessary refinements of this wealthy society when compared with his own hardier and far simpler frontier country.

Adams speaks very little French and in an embarrassing scene after he arrives into the sophisticated metropole of Paris, he is laughed at by the French king. Marching into the Palace of Versailles, around him stand the white powdered fineries of civilisation. He soon meets King Louis XVI, who later looses his head, and the king publicly humiliates Adams for his lack of French. All of the French nobles laugh at Adams whilst the amused king marches out with a cane.

Adams later gets his comeback when he attends a state banquet with French dignitaries. One of them asks Adams if he wishes to attend the opera, but the ambassador rejects the offer. Amongst the foolery of Paris and its stupefying luxury, he says he has little time for the finer arts. This initially seems anti-intellectual, but Adams begins to explain.

Now I must study politics and war, you see, so that my sons will have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons must study navigation, commerce and agriculture so that their children will have the right to study painting, and poetry and music.

The French court are embarrassed by their own luxury and the witty prowess of the monolingual American ambassador who reveals the frivolity of their society.

Whilst there might be complaints that America should spend more time trying to improve its painting skills, there are many great American artists in numerous fields of cultural achievement.

I also wonder if those who continue to make these complaints of American anti-intellectualism have ever attended a European football match?

Or have they tried to converse with one of these fanatical idiots?

There is only one country the whole world seeks to emulate. There is only one country that still has a positive outlook in almost all of Western civilisation. There is only one country that came to the rescue of Europe and defended its liberties when Nazi and Communist gangsters tried to destroy it.

I understand it’s not a popular position to sing the praises of America, but I have admiration for its society and the continued technological, intellectual and cultural march of its peoples. Whilst there is a lot of trash on television, those who complain about the Simpsons should watch British soap operas or spend a morning flickering through daytime Brazilian television.

America is by far one of the most intellectually active countries in history.

Andrew Is STUNNED By Goth Girl Who PS Her Boyfriend

Sentient

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Chris Broome

Ben was a stay at home father who loved his life. He spent his days with the children he loved so dearly as his wife Sarah was the bread winner. He loved being the “soccer dad”, as he was jokingly called by his male friends. Life was good and Ben felt fulfilled. He often thought he couldn’t have wished for anything more.Sarah loved the freedom that came with being the breadwinner. She had a wonderful loving husband and he was committed to her and the children. She was a junior executive at a local law firm whose emphasis was tax law. Numbers had always interested her since grade school. Her teachers and family tried to steer her to classes more suited to girls. English and Home Economy. She always felt frustration with her parents not realizing her passion and trying to shape her into the worlds image of what a girl should be.No Home Economics or an English degree with pressure from her parents would persuade her from her love of numbers. Being a teacher wasn’t for her. The main reason she fell in Love with Ben was his support for her passion. He was her encourager and her rock. It had been that way since middle-school. The two things Sarah knew since that time was she would have a Math degree and she would marry Ben.“ Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas.” This was a quote by Albert Einstein. Sarah said to Ben on Saturday morning as they lay in bed.“Your mind is like a wheel that never stops turning.” Ben told her as he reached over a gently rubbed her cheek with his right index finger.“You have been so kind to me and you love our children so much. i don’t know what I did to deserve you.” Sarah watched as Ben smiled and turned away.“I need you to do me a favor babe. I need to take some time and find myself.” Before he could finish his thought Sarah cut him off.“What do you mean? Is everything alright? Is our marriage in trouble? Have I done something to upset you?” She lifted her self up on her left elbow and look with concern at him.“No darling. No. I love my life. But there is a deep urge I have to find the inner me. The one that screams that I am a man. I feel like I have lost that over the years and I am scared if I can’t find a little piece of it, then I will slowly lose my passion.”“What are you proposing to me then?”“I have found a wilderness retreat that last about a week. I will have a guide and we will wonder through the forest and live off the land for a week.” Sarah watched Bens face light up as he spoke. She knew that just watching his body language he was captivated by the idea.“If that is what you feel like you need to accomplish to make you happy then I am al for it.” Sarah started calculating every step in he mind. The time off of work she would need to take, the time she would need to finish important work, the sitter for the children she would need, but most important the time Ben would be gone. Her logical brain was starting to be overwhelmed by her emotions. This was not common to her so she started feeling overwhelmed. She bent over and wrapped her hand under Bens jaw and turned his face towards him and kissed him.“Life is good and you are so good for me. I love you. Take the time, recharge and come back recharged.”“Thanks babe. I will let you know the plan once all is set and ready to go.” Sarah watched Ben get up and go to the bathroom. She got her cell phone and walked out of the bedroom. She walked downstairs into the kitchen and made a call.“Hello.” A nasal high pitched voice answered.“I nee help. Ben is acting strange!” Sarah said with an urgent whisper. She then went on and explained what was said in her conversation with Ben to the man.“That is new. Though not at all unexpected. This happens from time to time.” The nasally voice stated to her calmly.“ I can tell you how to handle this unless you want me to handle it.’““Just tell me. I can do what needs to be done, after all he is my husband.” Sarah heard an attempted chuckle.“Just tell me or I will come over there and make you regret the day you met me.” Her anger and anxiety was swelling.“Alright. Calm down.” He responded and went on to explain to her the plan to handle the situation. Sarah heard steps coming down the stairs just as the man finished talking. She hurriedly hung up the phone.“You in here babe?” Sarah heard as Ben walked into the kitchen.“Yes. I am going to fix some breakfast. I was thinking about cooking some eggs and cutting up some fruit. Do you want some?” Ben looked at her and had a devilish grin on his face.“Since the children spent last night with their friends and we have the house to ourselves, why don’t we go back upstairs?” Sarah smiled.

“That sounds wonderful.” The to turned and headed back up to the bedroom.

“I need to use the ladies room. Why don’t you get comfortable and when I get out I will give you a massage first.”

“Sounds heavenly.” Ben headed to the be and laid on his stomach. Sarah went to the bathroom and closed the door. She went to the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Her heart was racing. She felt a warmness and felt little beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She took a deep breath. Turned on the faucet and splashed water on her face.

“I can do this she said to her reflection in the mirror.” She turned and walked into the bedroom. Ben was laying across the unmade bed on his stomach.

“I am ready for that massage.” He said and took a long breath. Sarah slowly walked to the bed and straddled his back. She began to slowly massage his mid-back and eased up to his shoulders. He sighed a relaxing breath.

“You are so good to me babe. I am a lucky man.” Sarah heard this but was so nervous she didn’t respond. She just kept massaging his shoulders.

“Is your neck soar? She asked.

“A little.” Ben felt her hands start to massage his neck.”

“I lo….” Sarah heard as she opened the little hatch and quickly mashed the red button. Ben became motionless. She jumped off of him and got dressed. She then made another call.

Shortly after the doorbell rang. A small framed middle aged man with a balding head stood outside as Sarah opened the door. There was a slight smell of peppermint as she drew closer to pull him inside the house.

“Come on we need to hurry the children will be back soon.” Sarah had grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him towards the staircase.

“I am coming. Slow down. If I fall and the new chip gets broke then it will take hours to get another.”

“I need this done quickly, Charles.” Sarah snapped.

“What is this like the sixth time we have done this since the real Ben died?” Sarah heard him say. She turned and pointed her boney finger in his face.

“He is what I have left of my husband. He is all the children have, do not marginalize this or make smart remarks.” Charles put his hands up in mock defeat.

“I was happy when you first contacted me about testing the sentient being I created at first. But now I feel like he has ruined you Sarah. You are my sister. You need to move past this!” Sarah heard him scream.

“I will move on when the time is right. But not now. I am not ready. He just has meant so much. Then there is the children. How? What? This just has to be!”

Is it true that Chinese Communist Party killed 60 to 80 million Chinese people?

China had 550 Million people in 1949 when the CPC came to power

China had 930 Million people in 1977 when Mao died

I presume nobody claims Deng had millions of Chinese murdered do they?

China’s Median Birth rate between 1949 to 1977 = Around 31 Births per 1000

Chinas Median Death rate between 1949 to 1977 = Around 12 Births per 1000

The Median Rise in Population between 1949 to 1977 = 28 * (13.73) = 385 Million

So Population in 1977 should be = 550+385 = 935 Million

This means 935 Million – 930 Million = 5 Million people missing

Of this around 3.75 Million to 4.10 Million fled China due to the Cultural Revolution

So this means around 900,000 to 1.25 Million Chinese who are not accounted for

This could be the maximum deaths that could have happened due to the CPC related tough measures imposed by Mao

As for the Great Leap Forward – THOSE NUMBERS ARE ALREADY INCLUDED IN THE DEATH RATE

A Lot of Villages reported their Dead

Every Village sent recruits to the Communists during the Civil War and had a list of their soldiers who served and eligible for pension

So the death lists are expected to be very accurate indeed

Still assuming a 30% error rate – That’s still a maximum of LESS THAN 2 MILLION

No way close to the 60–80 Million numbers the West makes up regularly

Kishore Mahbubani Explains IF China’s Economy is Going to Collapse

Why is Singapore the only developed country in Southeast Asia?

Not difficult to answer. I am sure you may not expect this answer to be a carbon copy of what you have already read.

I don’t need to dig any deeper for the hard fact why the rest of Southeast Asia countries can’t come any closer to Singapore that is worth to be called ‘developed country.’

Let’s look at few outstanding aspects that Singapore leaving the closest neighbor like Malaysia and Thailand and everyone in the dust.

Everyone knows that stable government that prioritizes long-term planning, efficient public services are the keywords for developed nations. Malaysia and Thailand know it as well but don’t bother.

Law and order that make country peaceful and prosper not only for kids’ bedtime stories like the 1MDB episode that is equivalent to Kids’ favorite—‘The Princess and the Frog’ So does corruption.. but taking a F1 free ticket, the minister should go to jail that’s the Singapore’s story.

While Malaysia and Thailand have made significant progress in economic development. But to come any close to achieve at the Singapore’s level of development requires hell of a lot, like addressing political, social, and economic challenges comprehensively.

I don’t mean to throw opponent in jail or let them live like Robinson Crusoe on ‘Pulau Langkawi or Koh Lipe’ but the unique combination of effective governance is what the 2 countries need-

Now you can see, one Prime minister is an ex convict and the other is the PM appointed by a resurrected ex- convict risen from death—-in Singlish is ‘where got hope!

With strategic policies not about the ban of chewing gum or putting molesters in jail but Singapore’s policies on housing, and keeping Singapore’s education on top of the world.

That Including, infrastructure like great public transport that many European countries could not match. Not only the MRT but also its connectivity is superb with covered walkways from your doorstep to the bus top even God is impressed (not even a raindrop is falling on your head)

Also, favorable geography has given Singapore a distinct advantage, like a free port that all ships love and airport and its Do-RE-Me in a blink of an eye and now the 5th airport is on your way that’s going to make KLIA and Suvarnabhumi look like the houses built by the ‘two little pigs’-another kids’ bedtime story.

However, Malaysia and Thailand have the potential to grow if they focus on long-term planning, education, and reducing inequality, and keep income from tourism at bay not solely depending on Russian mafia or Chinese crooks like what Thailand is treating them.

One last thing:-

Globalisation starts with speaking common language almost everyone in the world wishes like English and Chinese not die-die must take pride in speaking only ‘Malay and Thai’…

Singapore knows best and speaks all-Hokkien, Hakka, Cantonese, Malay, Tamil, Singlish, Chinese and Thai!—

That’s why Singapore’s PM could speak to any illiterate person in Singapore with no problems.

Bananas Foster Tart

Ingredients

1 Pillsbury Refrigerated Pie Crust
2 medium bananas, cut into 1/4 inch thick slices
1/2 teaspoon rum extract
1/4 teaspoon water
2 teaspoons orange zest
2/3 cup chopped pecans
2/3 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/4 cup butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Vanilla ice cream

Instructions

Heat oven to 450 degrees F.
Prepare pie crust as directed on package for one-crust baked shell in 9 inch Stoneware Pie Plate.
Bake for 9 to 11 minutes or until light golden brown.
Cool for 5 minutes.
In 1 quart Batter Bowl, combine bananas and rum; toss to coat.
Sprinkle orange zest evenly in bottom of baked crust. Arrange bananas in single layer over zest; sprinkle with pecans.
In medium saucepan, combine brown sugar, whipping cream and butter; cook and stir over medium high heat for 2 to 3 minutes or until mixture comes to a boil. Cook an additional 2 to 4 minutes or until mixture is thickened and deep golden brown, stirring constantly.
Remove saucepan from heat; stir in vanilla extract. Spoon warm filling over bananas and pecans. Cool for 30 minutes.
Serve warm or cool with ice cream.
Store in refrigerator.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

EMP Survival 5: Love in Nuevo Laredo

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story with the line “I wasn’t expecting that.”… view prompt

KC Foster

From one of the nearby shelves, a can dropped, hitting the floor sending a clanking sound resounding through the empty grocery store. Masa cringed and held her breathe, trying to calm her racing heart. Not now, not now. Fearing an attack, she clenched her jaw and looked over the edge of the shelves. She locked eyes with Arion and relaxed. He stood strong, watching over them all and completely unphased by the sound. Masa was glad he had joined their group here. Arion had fought for her right to fight, unlike Leron, who had argued for her not to join the raid group. He was helpful and a good teacher, helping her to become strong and face this new world.Arion nodded, signaling that all was clear, and Masa returned to her task. She moved along the shelves, carefully placing cans of green beans, lima beans, and beetroot inside her backpack.The four other men who had come with them were doing the same, quietly raiding an old grocery store in an area controlled by one of the Nuevo Laredo cartels. It was one of the reasons, they had initially skirted around the city to begin with. The heads of the scouts they sent into the city to try and make contact were found jammed down on spikes just outside.Masa shivered and did her best to banish the image from her mind. This was no time to invite fear. When her bag was full, she rushed to the back of the store to the opening to the warehouse with the metal roll doors where they had broken in. She held the gun at the ready to provide cover for the others. With the guidance of the older men in their group, she had become quite adept at using it.“Hey, what are you doing in here?!” yelled a man’s voice, causing her to jump and grip the trigger.Gunfire followed, glancing off nearby walls and shelves sending glass and food supplies flying through the air. Masa leaped into action, following Arion through the shelves, and returning fire.“Retreat!” yelled Arion.Their raiding party, ran back the way they came, retreating into the warehouse. Masa returned to her corner, providing cover for the stragglers, and then rushed after the men. They were disappearing through the gap in the roll door and she leapt after them. A bullet grazed her arm and she cried out, before landing on the otherside and chasing after them. She did her best to ignore the pain while she moved from cover to cover to escape the men behind her.Through the streets they raced, weaving between abandoned vehicles and dodging the rotting corpses of looters. Nuevo Laredo had not been as fortunate as Monterrey. From the little they had learned; the cartels had abandoned their drug trade for governance and the war for supreme dictatorship was still going on here. Every day, a new body lay abandoned in the street or like their scouts, decapitated and their heads placed to set an example for anyone who dared cross them.Masa rounded the corner and found the raid team standing with their hands up facing a large group of armed men. From the group, a single man stepped forward, his hair cut short and teeth more metal than white. He laughed, “Not so lucky this time, are you?”Arion stepped forward; his hands raised in peace. “Our group is getting low on food, and we had no choice.”“The Western Canteena group? The one from Monterrey?”

“Yeah, and what of it?” demanded Arion.

“Rumor has it, your group brought seeds with you and you have farmers?” asked the man.

Arion stood silently, judging them and considering their request. After a time, he nodded. Masa watched, skeptical of trusting any of these cartels. She fumed, longing to yell at him. Arion had no right to make deals without the council’s approval.

“I am Don Marco,” the man said, “We have some food supplies we secured, but we are also running out. We will give you what you have taken as a peace offering, but I want to meet with your leaders. We need seeds and those who can farm if we are going to survive. Either that, or we must start moving north looking for better land.”

“We tried moving north,” said Arion. “One of the cartels has taken the bridge and we don’t have enough to move further west to cross the Rio Grande. I think we are in the same boat and we should work together.”

Masa approached Arion, standing behind him. He needed to stop before this got out of hand. “You can’t offer him that,” she hissed. “We discuss things.”

Arion looked down at her and frowned. “Trust me,” he growled, “The council will want this deal.”

Masa took hold of his arm, turning him to face her. “Tell him we’ll take his offer back. Let the council decide,” she argued.

Don Marco laughed. “She is certainly a spicy one. Is she your leader?”

“No, she’s not.” Arion snapped at Masa before facing Don Marco, his face a picture of calmness, “Fine. We’ll take your word back to our council. We’ll meet you at the Western edge of town where the old Walmart is in two days.”

“Agreed.” Don Marco and his men backed away before disappearing down a side street.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” said Arion.

“You idiot!” yelled Masa. “The only reason you are in charge of this raiding party is because you were a police cadet and you know the area. The council wouldn’t have trusted you otherwise.”

“And the only reason you are in it is because I let you,” he argued, glaring at her.

Masa balled her hands into fists and howled in frustration. “You…you…bastard.”

“Stuck up Bitch!”

Masa slapped him, and he took hold of her and kissed her. Her cheeks grew hot and she was distinctly aware of the other men around her laughing.

She shoved him backward and stared at the ground. “You…You…” her cheeks still warm. Her hands went to her lips. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the timing was terrible and she immediately thought of Leron. She had longed for Leron to kiss her since that night on the ridge, but he hadn’t. If anything he seemed to have lost interest, caught up in his new role in the council. Glaring at Arion, she ran towards their base at the canteena.

“Wait Masa!” cried Arion chasing after her. Masa could hear his footsteps behind her, growing closer. “It’s dangerous to go off by yourself. Come back! I’m sorry.” Masa didn’t listen, she continued to run, turning corner after corner through the narrow alleyways. Arion’s arms caught her, pulling her back as she fought him, but it was a lost cause. “I told you to stay still!” he yelled.

“Fine!” she said, glaring at him.

He ripped his shirt and bandaged her wound. “Masa, I find you incredibly attractive,” he said, smiling and her anger melted. “At first, I thought you were with Leron, but you two seem more like brother and sister than anything else. I stayed away and gave him time, but he hasn’t made a move so now I am making mine. Masa, I want you.”

Masa felt locked in his dark eyes. They drew her in, and the thought of his lips against hers brought butterflies to her stomach. He brushed her cheek and she smiled, moving toward her once more. This time she invited him, taking in his scent while his lips met hers. They touched gently and then harder. He pushed her towards the wall cupping her chin with one hand and running the other down her body.

The other men who had caught up to them cheered, and Arion looked back at them and laughed. “Come on, let’s go home,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the Canteena.

It was almost dark when they arrived. Masa emptied her bag onto the table along with the others. Arion disappeared toward the fire barrel where the council gathered in a circle, smiling back at her. She gave him a nod of approval and returned his smile.

Masa turned to go to her hiding place to think, but hesitated, watching Leron deep in discussion with the other council members. His dark face was barely visible in the flames, though his shirt, now in rags was bright enough. After all this time, she wondered why he had never changed it. Dressed like that and with his passive nature, he wouldn’t last more than five minutes out in the streets and was no real prospect for a future. She did love him, but he had never shown any indication of returning her feelings. For a long time, even she had waited, but he still hadn’t asked and now it was too late. Her feelings were moving on.

Leaving the others behind her, Masa climbed the storeroom ladder onto the roof. She needed a place to be alone and to think. On the edge of the building, she stared out at the sunset. They had come so far but were now stuck in Nuevo Laredo. They could not cross the international bridge. Even if they could get past the cartel that had made it their home, there was still the desert to cross. A few of the people who had joined them had spoken of rumors that all the major cities had been hit with bombs. Austin and Dallas were nothing but two great craters surrounded by radiation. If they could only find enough supplies to head out west they could find the prepper community along the border in West Texas. Her father had known a woman there by the name of Gerard. If Gerard’s computer had survived, she would have had access to satellite data on what had happened and could tell them where to go.

Masa picked up a rock and threw it off the roof. When she suggested they find the prepper community of West Texas, the council argued and became locked in disagreement. Leron who acted as their tie-breaker, voted against her, deciding it was a long shot to find some community in the middle of the desert. Of course, Masa couldn’t tell them where it was without revealing the maps in her pack.

The sun had almost fully set and Masa found herself nowhere. Her feelings were so tangled up over Leron and Arion that it was hard to focus. “I’m just another stupid teenage girl,” she muttered.

Leron snorted behind her, “You’re anything but stupid.” He sat beside her, joining her on the edge of the building and wrapping his arm around her.

“How did it go?”

“What? Oh, the council?” Leron sighed, “It looks like we are going to take Don Marco’s deal. If we can share what we have and work together to survive, then why not?”

“You’re not afraid of creating another Mattias?”

“No. This time any agreement will come with constraints,” he said.

“Aren’t you afraid they will take the deal and ignore any…wait…. did you use the word constraints?” Masa groaned, “You sound like a politician.”

Leron grinned. “And you look like a merc,” he said thumping the bandage around her arm and she yelped. His eyes went wide and he scowled at the bandage, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He looked up at her, eyes filled with worry and Masa’s heart sank. “This is from Arion’s shirt. Are you…and he…?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Masa snapped and Leron went silent.

The boy who had stared down Mattias after taking a beating from her and him wouldn’t look her in the eye. Instead, he stared off at the setting sun and was silent for a long time. He sighed and turned to leave.

“Seriously?” Masa demanded. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

Leron turned back, revealing tears forming in his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Masa? You’ve made your decision. I was waiting…”

“You waited too long… you should have acted. Arion did. He kissed me.”

“You want me to act, then fine!” he yelled and marched towards her. “I love you. I have loved you since I met you.” He pulled her towards him and met her lips with his in a long kiss. Masa’s breath caught in her throat, and butterflies filled her stomach. Her heart raced when she took in his scent. She ran her hand through his dreads, and down his neck, wanting more of him. It was nothing like with Arion. He didn’t just want her like Arion; he loved her and she loved him.

Leron pulled away, gazing into her eyes, his forehead resting against hers. “I didn’t act because I was waiting for you,” he whispered. “I will leave you to make your decision. If you choose him, I won’t get in the way.”

Tears filled Masa’s eyes when he pulled away, his hand held onto hers until their fingertips touched and he let them fall. He smiled his gentle smile and backed away from her. The pain she felt in her chest was almost unbearable.

“Wait,” Masa cried, rushing toward him. He froze at the top of the ladder and turned. Before he could react, Masa wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. “I love you too, Leron.” He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on hers. His muscles relaxed and she felt his chest rise and fall against her cheek.

Leron held her tightly for a long time, rocking her in a dance across the roof. “I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he said, “I didn’t want you to fight because of how much I care about you, but if it’s what you want, I will support you.”

“It is.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll need to find you a different raid leader.”

How does being black in Canada differ from being black in the US?

I’m going to talk about something very specific I’ve noticed in Vancouver, where Blacks comprise only 1% of the population.

Imagine a world where there’s no anti-Black racism. People aren’t mistreated for being Black. People aren’t even treated differently. Instead, your skin complexion is treated as just as inconsequential a facet of who you are as your eye color. Would there be any race consciousness? Would people who share the same complexion feel any tribal affiliation towards one another?

I’m African. I grew up in a place where my race was a complete non issue. But I’ve lived in the US for more than half my life now. In the US, being Black is definitely a thing. It sets you apart. You are a minority. And, even if you try to pretend that race doesn’t exist, society will sooner or later remind you that you are Black first and everything else second. It is just what it is. So, in this environment, there’s a strong consciousness of being Black. I was sitting at a French-style cafe in Portland last week. This Black man entered. Immediately he took a seat next to mine—we were the only two Blacks in the establishment. We gave each other the nod, and we started talking.

This is what it means to be Black. The flip side of racial otherness is that you come to see every other member of your race as a brother. This is especially true when you’re in a place where Blacks are a small minority. Every time you see another Black person, you give each other a sign of acknowledgement.

I see you over there, fellow Black person, fellow passenger in this slow ride towards justice and equality, fellow fighter in the struggle. I see you. And I salute you.

But my experience here in Vancouver has been utterly different. Blackness is not a thing. In vain I search into the eyes of the Black people I encounter for a sign, a token of acknowledgement, a special greeting, anything. I’ve come to expect it, living in the US.

Nothing. Nothing at all!

I’m not a fellow Black person to them. I’m a perfect stranger, and an odd one at that.

Why is this fellow looking at me like that? Excuse me, you’re in the way! Hello? Can I help you?

This is what they seem to say when I look at them. It’s fascinating.

For the first time in half my life, I don’t feel Black. I can just be me, just another person, who merely happens to be chocolate-hued.

Why has the Chinese social app Xiaohongshu suddenly become popular in the United States?

The US government, in order to suppress China’s influence, threatened to ban TikTok, which resulted in a large number of users flocking to another app developed by a Chinese company. In other words, by “banning TikTok,” the US government gave China an opportunity to showcase its influence. Just like a blogger said on X, thousands of people downloading Xiaohongshu to spite the US government, finding themselves having lovely interactions with the millions of Chinese citizens on the app & inadvertently undoing decades of US propaganda.

Now both Chinese and Americans have found that they have a platform for direct dialogue and communication, and the best way to communicate is to share each other’s daily lives. So we can all see that Xiaohongshu is now filled with laughter and vitality. Isn’t this how the internet should be?

Without Western media manipulating public opinion by exploiting information gaps, nor the propaganda personnel of the US government, people on both sides can now understand the real situation of each other. For example, the Chinese people have now discovered that American schools attach far more importance to patriotic education than they had imagined. When an American said she spent $1,500 on having a wisdom tooth removed, and a Chinese said medical insurance covered all of his costs, both sides fell silent.

When the US government threatened to ban TikTok, it made a “great move,” dealing a heavy blow to the “information cocoon” fabricated by itself. And I’m glad to see that people are getting past the “wall” of false information and glimpsing a “new world.” This could mark a promising beginning.

Do Indians generally feel proud when comparing their country’s greatness to China’s?

Citizens of successful countries never feel proud of their country. They regard their successes as inevitable and taken for granted and get annoyed only when there is failure

China has reached such a level today

If something fails, it garners attention across China and Netizens have multiple comments

If something succeeds, it’s a “Very Good. What Next” moment

If China gets 40 Gold Medals in an Olympic event, it’s normal and merits a polite “Good News”

If China gets fewer medals and loses many games, it merits a lot more “What went wrong” moments and a lot more discussion

India is nowhere near such a level

So the smallest, teeniest, tiniest win is regarded a major success

Some random IITian does something which becomes newspaper headlines whereas in China, 10,000 Students do similar things regularly which never even get mentioned because their standards to praise are much higher

Chandrayaan 3 was part of main headlines and main mainstream news for 12 days in India

The ChangE mission formed part of headlines on China Daily and Peoples Daily and CGTN for 2 days in China

China hasn’t yet reached the level of US though

They still show pride in places like

Mate 60
Mate 70
Black Myth Wukong
Tianlong Space Station
XHS App and 13.1 Million Downloads in 3 days and

Americans don’t even take pride in such major achievements because for them it’s taken for granted even more than China

They don’t take pride in the Iphone or the F-35 Or F-22 Or World of Warcraft or Xbox or PlayStation or Harvard or MIT

For them its a “So what else is new” moment

Indians also feel proud of the stupidest and most mundane things

Indian Americans earn the most money
Indian born US Citizens become CEOs of Big Tech Or Senators or Congress men
Ambani and Adani have billions of Dollars
How Modi is called a ‘Rockstar’ by foreign leaders

Chinese couldn’t care less about any of these things

For instance Mainstream Media in India covered Modis lack of invitation for Trumps inauguration for 5 weeks whereas Xis invitation and refusal were covered for 1–2 days in China as token news

They gave more coverage to the Grenada and SL HOS visits to China

So We have to evolve our mindset

Bizarre

What do you think about the video of China’s 6th generation fighter jet taking to the skies for the first time?

Question: What do you think about the video of China’s 6th generation fighter jet taking to the skies for the first time?

Answer:

I think (as of 2024–12–27) we will have to wait for more information.

There is a famous quote from a Chinese movies and the quote “let the bullet fly a bit” (让子弹飞一会), meaning that in this day of internet age, initiate appearance and information can be deceptive, so you need to wait until more information surfaces.

Yes, if you are a private news media, then you had to guess because you need to the early on the “shocking news”, but if you are not getting paid for such action, then the much wiser move is wait and see.

So far, the information I gathered is that there is has been no official comments, so everything is guess and speculation at this point. But the observation has been that both designs differ drastically from the existing fifth generation fighters in service.

This could either range from a newer generation design (which isn’t out of the realm of possibility) or the Chinese aviation industry may simply been trying out different stuff, because, why not? They got the budget and the test facilities, and Mao has said: “Empirical test is the only way to verify truth”.

What was your most memorable encounter with Army personnel during your Air Force service?

One of the most memorable encounters with Army personnel I had, was at the Charleston AFB PAX Terminal. There were a group of Army enlisted that were flying to Germany for transition to their next assignment. Unfortunately, the plane had problems and so their flight had to be rescheduled for the next day. I happened to be at the terminal at the time and since some of my airmen were working the billeting desk and being both a 1st Sgt and former Army, I took it upon myself to take care of them. First we went down and got them rooms. That was the start of it all. I showed them their quarters, 2 men to a room which came with a bathroom, TV, remote controls, clock radio & phone. They quickly told me no! I asked why? They responded: we can’t stay here, we are enlisted & these are officer quarters! I explained that these rooms were what Air Force enlisted folks stayed in. Then.. it was on to the Dinning Facility which featured a smorgasbord selection of food and beverages with the atmosphere of a civilian restaurant. Again.. there was utter wonder shown at the facility. When we got ready to leave, as per Army protocol, they started to pickup their plates & silverware in preparation to take and clean them before stacking at a wash area. Again I intervened telling them to leave it on the table as the staff would take care of that, just like at a civilian restaurant. When we returned to their billeting I briefed them as to the check out time and that transportation would be waiting at the lobby to return them to the terminal for their flight. Before leaving I asked them if they had any other questions. The look on their faces was one of incredible awe. One fellow said… “ yeah.. I screwed up! How’s that I asked? He responded… I should have gone Air Force. I laughed, having been in the Army I knew just what he meant.

Is US witness protection as nice as it looks on TV or is it less luxurious? Why are the houses so nice and in such nice areas? Why not small apartments?

I just finished the book Witsec: Inside the Federal Witness Protection Program. My answer is based on what I read there.

Relocated witnesses are set up in hotels or motels until they find a place to live. They usually have to rent, as entering WITSEC usually means leaving behind anything that could tie you to your old identity. This includes investments, especially if they were of an illicit nature.

The U.S. Marshals Service (USMS) supplies a stipend to the relocated witnesses for up to two years. The stipend isn’t anything to get excited about—typically around $30,000 per year, in monthly installments. The USMS also assists the witnesses in getting employment. Most witnesses don’t have any law-abiding world skill sets, and those who do usually can’t work in their former profession, as they may be noticed or recognized. Some of the occupations described were truck drivers, warehousemen, and security guards. Again, not usually careers to get excited about. The witnesses eventually have to earn enough to support themselves, and the salaries those jobs command won’t fund much in the way of luxury.

When a witness is still being debriefed or is awaiting relocation, they may be put up in a hotel or a rented house in an isolated spot. The USMS also has a facility in Virginia that can house up to four families at one time, all isolated from one another. This is where people new to WITSEC get evaluated, briefed, coached, and prepared for relocation. The witnesses arrive and depart the facility in blacked-out vehicles, so they don’t know its location.

A common theme among the many stories of relocated witnesses in the book was that life in WITSEC is hard. In most cases, you will never see your family and friends again, and anything you accomplished in life is rendered null and void. You start over in multiple senses of the term.

Minestrone Pasta Bowl

Yield: 8 servings or 24 sample servings

Ingredients

1 (16 ounce) package uncooked rigatoni pasta
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
2 teaspoons Pantry Italian Seasoning Mix, divided
1 large zucchini, sliced
1 large carrot, chopped
8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 (26 ounce) jar spaghetti sauce
1 (15 ounce) cangarbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1/4 cup (1 ounce) grated fresh Parmesan cheese

Instructions

Cook pasta according to package directions in Professional (8-quart) Stockpot; drain using large Colander.
Return pasta to stockpot; add 1 tablespoon of the oil and 1 teaspoon of the seasoning mix, stirring to coat. Cover and keep warm.
Meanwhile, using Ultimate Slice & Grate fitted with v-shaped blade, slice zucchini.
Chop carrot using Food Chopper.
Slice mushrooms using Egg Slicer Plus(R).
Heat remaining oil in Stir-Fry Skillet over medium heat until hot. Add garlic pressed with Garlic Press; stir-fry 1 minute using Bamboo Spatulas.
Add zucchini and carrot; stir-fry 2-3 minutes or until vegetables are crisp-tender.
Add mushrooms, spaghetti sauce, garbanzo beans and remaining seasoning mix. Cook, stirring occasionally, 5-6 minutes or until sauce is bubbly and heated through.
Transfer pasta to Simple Additions(TM) Large Bowl. Carefully pour sauce over pasta. Grate Parmesan cheese over pasta using Deluxe Cheese Grater.
Serve immediately.

Nutrition

(Light) Per serving: Calories 350, Total Fat 9g, Saturated Fat 1.5g, Cholesterol less than 5mg, Carbohydrate 57g, Protein 13g, Sodium 480mg, Fiber 6g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Why do people become poor and broke?

It all starts with the family. At least it did with my brother. My brother was a kid that had learning difficulties in school and needed extra help from teachers.

My dad was a person that had a hard time recognizing how a kid could have so much difficulty using a screwdriver or how doing simple things was tough for my brother. Consequently, my dad made fun of him or said things to belittle him. As time went along, my brother became a narcissist who had difficulty holding a job and difficulty saving money. Fortunately even though I grew up in the same house, I didn’t come out so bad.

I think having a bad upbringing could be a strong reason why you are bad with money.

When did you realize you “dodged a bullet”?

I had to evict a motorcycle gang.

In 2003, I was buying foreclosure houses at auction in Oregon with a real estate agent partner. We bought a house that, unbeknownst to us, was owned by a motorcycle gang member.

My partner and I knocked on the door, and a big, mean-looking, tattooed guy answered the door. We let him know we bought the place and wanted to talk. Two of his buddies entered the room and just stared at us.

We explained that we bought the place at auction and do not work for the bank that foreclosed on you. We asked about him. He said he was a steel worker and a member of a motorcycle gang, as were his friends, who were staring at us. We explained that the law stated that the previous owner had 10 days to move out, but we realized it takes longer for some folks. I then asked him how much time he needed. He said three weeks.

About 2 weeks later, I stopped by and asked how it was going. He was working on his truck and was holding a radiator hose. At one point in the conversation, he said that people who get hit by radiator hoses don’t leave a mark. I said, ya, I heard that and kept on talking. He then said he has an uncle who works for the mob. In one quick move, he can tear a person’s ear off and stuff it into their shirt pocket. I just said wow and asked again if he needed more time to move. He said he needed another week. As I was driving away, the thought hit me. He was threatening me, and it was a good thing we were talking on the front lawn with the neighbor next door mowing their lawn!

Two weeks later, he called and said he was out. He thanked me for treating him like a normal person. I went over and found 3 women living in the garage. They were drug users, and I had to talk them into leaving too.

Grilled Turkey Breast Steaks

Where has this been all my life? - MM

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

1/4 cup soy sauce
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup chicken broth
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons dried minced onion
1/4 teaspoon dry mustard
3 (4 ounce) turkey breast steaks, 3/4 to 1 inch thick

Instructions

Combine soy sauce, oil, chicken broth, lemon juice, onion, dry mustard and black pepper in Small Batter Bowl; whisk until blended.
Place turkey in resealable plastic food storage bag. Add marinade; seal bag. Marinate in refrigerator 1-3 hours, turning occasionally.
Prepare grill.
Remove turkey from marinade; discard marinade. Grill turkey over medium coals 6-8 minutes per side, turning with Barbecue Fork and Barbecue Turner, or until meat is no longer pink in center.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 240, Total Fat 15g, Saturated Fat 1g, Cholesterol 55mg, Carbohydrate 2g, Protein 23g, Sodium 1030mg, Fiber 0

Attribution

Pampered Chef

What’s the dumbest case you’ve ever had on jury duty?

Once upon a time, last century when I lived in NZ, my children had gone off to school, I volunteered at the then-overwhelmed social welfare system. At one stage, I was asked to attend children’s court.

A young girl from an island in the Pacific who was then living in New Zealand, and totally unaware of how the world lived was bailed up in front of the judge. Her whole family were in attendance, uncles and aunts, cousins, sisters, brothers, and what seemed to me to be a lot of teachers, most of them in tears, while the young girl (10 or 11 aged) stood there petrified and bewildered.

The case against this little girl was that she had falsified a withdrawal slip to obtain cash from her parents account.

It transpired that she had seen her mother sign this sort of withdrawal slip a number of times, and receive money for it. Christmas was coming up, and she wanted to buy something for her beloved family. Without understanding how the system worked and why her mother was able to get funds when she presented the withdrawal slip, she did as she had seen her mother do.

The teller at the bank reported it to the bank manager, idiot that he was, without asking any questions, he informed the police and they started the legal process that saw the little girl in court.

Lucklily for all, the most amazing judge presided, exuding kindness and understanding, with a large dose of goodwill, asked the little girl to explain, but she remained mute, frozen in terror, with the whole family weeping in the courtroom.

The judge silently read the prosecution’s case, turned to the little girl, explained WHY the mother could withdraw money from the bank and she could not, Made the appropriately worded but clearly annoyed comment about the stupidity of some adults (to bring this matter to court) and apologised to the whole family for this situation (which must have been of enormous stress to them during the many weeks of waiting for the court date to deal with this.) This judge was known for his integrity, sensible jdugement and as an enormously kind and sensible human being.

How miserable are Americans’ lives compared to the Chinese?

These days, I saw some American lives on Xiaohongshu.

The strangest thing I found was that many people said they needed to work 80 hours a week to pay their bills.

In China, the most sinful 996 is only 72 hours a week; and the 996 working hours can make them earn at least 3 times the income of ordinary engineers. They are indeed exchanging time for income. People who work 996 usually only need 1/5 of their income to pay all their bills. They work so hard so that they can afford a luxury house, not an ordinary life.

During the 3 years of this pandemic, I was unemployed and my daughter was in college.

My wife worked alone and was able to cover the household bills, my daughter’s college expenses, and we even went on 2 trips. My wife had 2 surgeries.

In addition, we still had money left over for savings.

My wife was just a low-level salesperson in the company.My wife works about 50 hours a week.

Multi-Millionaire Warns “We Risk Revolution” As Americans Grow Increasingly Desperate

The first two minutes are pure gold. It is just the reality.

This is serious times for the West. Especially for America.

And today’s GEM…

Looks like the Trump admin is finally admitting about the technology that the USA has. Interesting shit.

Time Travel Is Real and Here’s How it Works, Government Has Been Hiding It | Redacted

5 comments Cinema Mode

In late 2023, Ashton Forbes and his group on X.com claimed to have solved the mystery of what happened to Flight MH-370, with the help of leaked US satellite and drone footage, Chinese satellite images and by consulting with numerous witnesses and experts.

The upshot of what Forbes believes happened is that there was a lithium ion battery explosion on the plane that caused a major fire, causing the Captain to turn the plane around and to descend to a lower altitude, to allow his passengers to breathe after cabin de-pressurization. Then, he believes a secret US Navy teleportation technology was directed at the airliner.

In the leaked videos that we see here, looped in Ashton Forbes’ interview with Clayton Morris on Redacted, we see three orbs rotating around the fuselage of Flight MH-370, before the plane appears to be “zapped” out of space-time.

These three orbs could be partial visible evidence of the process that Bob Beckwith was trying to get me to understand, 25 years ago, when I was writing a book about space-time manipulation.

Bob told me that by the late 1990s, the US Navy’s entire Osprey Class of minesweepers were equipped with teleportation capabilities and that these ships could literally “blip” themselves to anywhere on the planet. The ships could also be placed one second ahead of Universal space-time while cruising and thereby, go undetected.

If it’s true that this teleportation technology was on Osprey Class minesweepers in the 1990s, then it’s probably on a lot of other military vehicles by now, as suggested by Air Force General Steven Kwast and by White House Office of Science & Technology Director, Michael Kratsios, earlier this week.

Bob Beckwith was the Founder of the successful electrification systems engineering company, Beckwith Electric. He was an electronics wunderkind who at 23, was working at Bell Labs in the early 1940s, when the US Navy commandeered him for the war effort, mainly to work on “sonar invisibility”, to help make US ships undectable to the German mines being laid off the East Coast, which were blowing merchant ships out of the water.

The capability of placing ships ahead of Universal space-time would hypothetically eliminate this threat. In Bob’s book that he sent to me, ‘Hypotheses’, he expounded on his theory about “Divided Space”. He theorized that “bubbles” of Divided Space could be created and separated from what he called “Universal Space” by applying three counter-rotating EM fields of enough force.

He explained this is what enables UFOs to take 90º and 45º turns at thousands of g forces, without breaking up; because these craft possess technology that generates a field of Divided Space around them.

So, it’s very interesting to me that the leaked footage seen in video of Ashton Forbes’ interview with Clayton Morris shows three small orbs revolving around the fuselage of the airliner before they all disappear in an endothermic blip, with no heat signature – or what Ashton Forbes suggests is a “phase transition” of the plane, as he told Keith Malinak and Zeynep Yenisey on At The Mic.

Bob Beckwith wrote another short book called ‘Levitation, Teleportation and Time Travel’. Bob and the contents of this book are referenced in a 15-page document that Richard Dolan called “The UFO leak of the century”, which was entered into the public record during the May 17th 2022 Open House Intelligence Counterterrorism, Counterintelligence, and Counterproliferation Subcommittee hearing on UFOs (“UAPs”).

Among many other things, the document confirms the existence of an “MJ-12-like cabal”, the 1947 UFO crash at Roswell, alien bodies and an ultra secret UFO crash retrieval and back-engineering program operating completely outside of government oversight and which was still active as of 2002.

Bob shared a lot of other interesting details, that I posted about, here.

I’m not a physicist and I can’t say with 100% certainty whether Bob was psyopping me – and psyopping the House Subcommittee on UFOs, postmortem – or telling the truth. All I can say is that the above is what he told me and you can read more about that and other, totally crazy stuff that people claimed to me was true in my first book, ‘The Philadelphia Experiment Murder’.

I also can’t say with 100% certainty whether Ashton Forbes is psyopping us. His digital footprint is limited to podcasts and social media. From a previous podcast, we learned that Ashton is an IT professional with a US Government security clearance. So his “bonafides” are mysterious but he’s very good at explaining things.

In this interview with Clayton Morris, Ashton goes into the fascinating details about the technology that we are witnessing in the leaked videos of MH-370, which he believes was quantum-tunneled, i.e., teleported from its flight path to an unknown location. He believes the “zap” that we see in the video is:

“Absolute proof [that] the orbs are inducing a Negative Energy state [“pulled-out” of Zero Point Energy] through a low energy Phase Transition…

“That’s gravitational lensing, right there…Now, what you’re seeing here is, you’re seeing space-time being contracted. And when it gets contracted, the Refractive Index, the Permittivity of the Vacuum changes. And when that happens, what you see is this effect, where the Ground State of…your orbs goes down.

“And what this does is it’s like a trampoline, like jumping on a little trampoline. It pulls a little bit of energy out and it doesn’t even have to be that much energy, because those balls of plasma are 20 feet wide of condensed charge. They’re extremely powerful magnets.

“So when you jam them together, the closer they get, that force goes up and it amplifies, to a degree where then, boom, space-time, itself breaks down…and magnetic reconnection occurs when the orbs get too close because these magnetic fields, these orbs is so powerful.

“Now, the last thing I want to say on the orbs, for you to understand, which is helpful, is that these are orbs of Coherent Plasma, meaning that what’s happening is the magnetic and electric fields the plasma is producing is what’s being used to make it into a sphere…

“So, what they figured out is if they move the plasma around the right way, the fields will cause the plasma to become an orb that stays coherent in the sky, that can float around.

“And that’s called Magnetohydrodynamics (MHD). You’ll see the acronym all over the place. They’re using controlled powerful magnetic fields to move the plasma around, keep the charge separated, the positive and the negative, so that it acts like a lightning bolt…

“The last point I want to make is…I think [what we’re seeing in the videos is) actual teleportation. So what’s happening is the orbs must have an equal number of charge between the four orbs. You’ve got three orbs around the plane and you’ve got one orb somewhere else. So when this plane is being teleported – Delta, don’t sue me – and then comes back, the orbs need to cancel-out…

“[One] configuration could be that the three orbs next to the plane all add up to one negative charge. And then, you have one positive charge, let’s say, at Diego Garcia or in the Maldives. And then, when the orbs come together, it causes them to slingshot and come together and then they appear at your new location.”

Ashton goes on to say that he believes, “There is no way for you to actually go back to a previous time in the Universe. But you can actually travel in time. Time travel is 100% real…You can travel to the future, number one. You can slow your rate of time, so that everything else looks like it’s speeding-up around you, to such a degree, where you could go 100 years in the future…The other thing you could do is you could reverse your biological process. You could put a bubble around yourself and reverse the entropy of inside the bubble, which is you and your age, and you could reverse your age.“

This last description sounds a bit like the “bubbles” of “Divided Space” that Bob Beckwith was telling me about.

Shortly after my book came out in January 2001, the tiny cabin that I was renting on Big Fresh Pond in Southampton, NY was repeatedly broken-into and my personal belongings riffled-through – including on the day that I went into Manhattan to meet with FEMA in October 2001, at the apartment I’d rented for 8 years, 1/2 block from the World Trade Center, when my apartment was declared “Uninhabitable” and FEMA later wired me $4,000 to cover the cost of moving out and buying a new couch.

I was traumatized by the devastation of Lower Manhattan that I’d just seen. Then, I got back to my rented cabin and someone had broken into it again and tossed things around.

I was spooked by these repeated break-ins and I was sick of everybody thinking I was crazy, so I eventually stopped talking – or even thinking – about what I’d learned, while writing my book about the manipulation of space-time.

But suddenly, it appears that a discussion of this subject is fair game – even if ChatGPT’s Woke AI doesn’t like it!

…

TRANSCRIPT

Clayton Morris: Alright, I want to talk about time travel. I’m looking forward to this all day. I’ve been looking forward to talking with Ashton Forbes all day in the secret technology.

Yes, the White House admitting this week, on the record by the way, that we possess the technology to manipulate time and space. In other words, time travel, teleportation technology, like the very same technology that was used to make MH-370, Malaysian Airlines Flight 370, disappear in thin air on camera. And by the way, the people that are like, “Oh, that video has been debunked.”

Shut up. No, it hasn’t. In fact, it’s been the opposite. It’s been “bunked”. It’s not been debunked. And the man who helped really uncover the story from the beginning is Ashton Forbes.

One of our favorite guests, here on the show. I call him a “physicist” because he is citizen journalist and one of the most prolific individuals in this space. And just thrilled to have you on the show, Ashton.

Ashton Forbes: Great.

Clayton Morris: Great to have you. Welcome back to the show, my friend.

Ashton Forbes: Thanks, Clayton. Feelings mutual. It’s always fun to talk to you.

Clayton Morris: Blast. I hope we have fun here. I’m really looking forward to this.

So this is, the reason I wanted to have you on is because of this bombshell. There’s a couple of stories, over the past couple of weeks that kind of came out. I want to play this first soundbite from General Kwast.

Now, he worked in Colorado, training individuals, and he saw this technology basically, I think, on the desks of Air Force engineers in the United States Air Force. And it was basically admitting that we have these incredible technologies that allows us to teleport transport in ways that you wouldn’t blow your mind. So let me just play a few seconds of this. Watch this one.

(Roll video of General Kwast)

General Kwast: The technology is on the engineering benches today, but most Americans and most in Congress have not had time to really look deeply at what’s going on, here. But I’ve had the benefit of 33 years of studying and becoming friends with these engineers and these scientists.

This technology can be built today with technology that is not developmental, to deliver any human being from any place on planet Earth to any other place in less than an hour; to deliver Wi-Fi from space, where you never need a cell tower to connect, to deliver…

Clayton Morris: Yeah. And then this just happened over the past 48 hours. Trump White House official of Science and Technology Policy Director Michael Kriatsos said that, “We possess the technology that can manipulate time and space.” Watch.

(Roll Video of Michael Kriatsos)

Michael Kriatsos: Our passenger planes are slower than they used to be. Our trains crawl, compared to those in other parts of the world. Our cars do not fly. Advances have not stopped, but something has gone wrong. Stagnation was a choice. We have weighed-down our builders and innovators.

The well-intentioned regulatory regime of the 1970s became an ever-tightening ratchet, first hampering America’s ability to become a net energy exporter and then making it harder and harder to build.

We seem to have lost focus and vision, to have lowered our sights and let systems and structures and bureaucracies muddle us along. But we are capable of so much more. Our technologies permit us to manipulate time and space.

They leave distance annihilated, cause things to grow and improve productivity…

Clayton Morris: So he’s basically – and I love what you tweeted the other day – you pointed out basically, he’s admitting that we allowed our technology to purposefully stagnate, that we almost slowed it down, on purpose, yet we have the ability to manipulate time and space.

So first of all, when you heard his comments, what did you think?

Ashton Forbes: The first thing I thought was, “OK, let me see the context.” And when you get the context, it’s actually even crazier, in the context.

He’s saying that, “We intentionally made a choice to hamstring our technology.” And he’s talking, specifically about transportation technology. And then he says, “We are capable of so much more.”

And when he says that, “We have the ability to manipulate time and space,” he’s talking about gravity manipulation. That’s what manipulation of time and space literally is.

And then, after that, he speaks to other things that also would speak to things like what plasma might do, to make things grow, as well as, just other applications for the same technology, potentially as well, like AI.

He speaks to making things “more productive”, which in today’s day and age would mean AI. He says something about the 1970s, which I don’t think anybody really picked up on. But if you’re somebody that has researched gravity research, in the ’70s, the Mansfield Amendment was passed.

And what this did was made it so that the military could not fund things that were not related to combat; direct military applications. And so, gravity research got pushed to the defense contractors.

So all of these references, like, “There’s no way,” there’s so many people gaslighting about, “Oh, he’s talking about telephones and internet.”

These people are sitting at the little kids table, right? Well, there’s two videos out there in perfect sync that show a plane literally disappearing out of space-time, that is still missing 11 years later. So we got to just be real about it. As much as we don’t want to believe it, whatever, but it seems undeniable to me.

Clayton Morris: Yeah. We’re watching this. This is MH-370 on the screen here, which of course disappears using – so, would you say that maybe the same technologies that he’s talking about – is what allowed the United States government to disappear MH-370?

Ashton Forbes: Yeah, definitely. And what we’re talking about, here is technology that you can find a lot of videos of engineers talking about this, that Zero Point energy technology is an echelon above anything that we have conventionally, right now. So even nukes are completely obsolete, in the face of this level of technology.

And you’ll hear people talking about this all over the place. So you can imagine a lot of scenarios, where, with this type of technology, the United States Government is uncontested in the world. And this explains why nobody has really actually tried to challenge us on the global stage for almost an entire century, at this point.

And some people “Well say, if these are out there, could other countries have figured it out?” Yes. I think there’s a shadow arms race. And I think it overlaps with the UFO community where they say that “This might be UFO tech” or whatever, and then Russia and China are working on this.

This is what scares me the most about this is that if two warring factions get this level of technology, the science on display here that I want to go through with you today, it has the capability of producing not just a wormhole, but actually a black hole, like annihilation of the entire Planet – maybe even the entire solar system. This is a matter of scale.

And what you realize from these videos and the science related to them is that physics, the universe is scale-invariant. Stuff that you can do on the small level, small scale, you can also do on the large scale. Those orbs that you see there, they are mimicking atoms.

It looks like an atom. It’s a positively-charged plasma in the center with electrons, that you can see is as green; as a shell around it. You can even see the shell of the electrons move fluidly when they start to spin around the plane because the magnetic field they’re producing around the plane.

It’s just wild, when you look at it and you can see all of that detail from that.

So what I was hoping today is to – and I’ve seen you talk to Tucker Carlson – some people that are really prominent and connected. And I want to help, because you’re saying all the right stuff; to get all the lingo and arm you with all the tools that you need, to help explain to the general masses and to these people who are connected, like what’s really going on, here, from a scientific perspective and from a suppression perspective and National Security, as well.

Clayton Morris: Please. So let’s get into it. So, I mean, I think what you just said is amazing that nuclear weapons are obsolete. Nuclear weapons are obsolete that we have the ability to manipulate time and space. Those are the weapons that that’s why no one wants to touch us, because we have things that are far more powerful. And I think, I think you would agree that these technologies have come from UFO crash retrieval programs, if I’m not mistaken, right?

Ashton Forbes: Well, I think there’s a lot of options. I’m open-minded, you know, and I’ve now grown to have a viewpoint of anything that’s possible, under the right conditions. So does it come from aliens? Does it come from things that we dug-up? Does it come from future humans or another dimension?

I don’t know if we have enough evidence to say for sure, at the moment. I will say I’m pretty confident there’s a psychological operation going on, to get us to be convinced that humans can’t understand this, that it’s “alien technology. It’s alien physics that humans can’t possibly understand.”

And that way, if we’re doing Black Operations, covert operations – which is what the MH-370 videos show – we can blame it on “aliens”.

“Oh, it was aliens that zapped the plane away!”

No, aliens aren’t zapping the plane away. That’s us. That’s what humans do. So I think that they’re trying to get us to avoid that.

And it’s very important to realize that there is no alien physics. Anything that aliens can understand, anywhere in this universe, that’s physics that we can understand.

We are simply missing something that’s probably right in front of us, when it comes to how these UFOs we see flying in the sky are moving around. And absolutely, anyone out there: UFOs are real. There are things flying around that people do not understand. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s “aliens” though.

Here’s the secret after I dug into it, as an investigator, the answer to the question of how this is all possible is Negative Energy.

And you go, “Wait, wait, Ashton, all the academics are saying that Negative Energy is this non-existent exotic substance!”

Yeah. Why are they saying that? Because it’s not, it’s a conceptual misunderstanding. And then, boom, the whole universe opens up to us. Tesla technology is possible.

Clayton Morris: Yeah. Let’s, so let’s break it down for the lay person and let’s, if we want to get this out to the masses.

So, in my conversations with Tucker and others about, about this, trying to kind of break through maybe the psychological operation that’s out there and lay it bare for everybody: Negative Energy, what is it and how could it be used in all of these applications?

Ashton Forbes: Exactly. So there’s something called the “vacuum catastrophe”, which is that we look up in the sky and we measure the cosmic microwave background. We’re measuring all the heat that we can see in the sky.

And we say that that’s all the energy that’s out there, in the Universe. And it comes to this relatively small amount of energy.

But then, Quantum Mechanics came around. Wheeler and Feynman came into play and Schwinger and Feynman won the Nobel prize for Quantum Electrodynamics in 1965.

John Archibald Wheeler and Richard Feynman said, when you do the math on the quantum perspective on the energy of the Universe, it’s over 120 orders of magnitude higher than when we measure the cosmic microwave background. Why this discrepancy? Which one is correct? Is there no Zero Point energy out there to be tapped into? Or is there a huge ocean of energy that can be tapped into?

The difference between this question is the difference between whether or not Negative Energy exists or not.

If you don’t think Negative Energy exists, because it’s an “exotic substance”, then you’re somebody that believes that the cosmic microwave background is the answer; that there’s no energy to be tapped into.

But if you’re somebody that understands Quantum Mechanics, you realize that we’re not talking about thermal energy. We’re not talking about heat. We’re talking about vibrational energy.

The Zero Point energy, that ocean of energy, it’s vibrating all the time, on the tiniest possible scales. And that’s how we interact with it. That’s why Tesla was saying that there’s an “ether” of energy and that “The answer to the Universe is energy, frequency, and vibration.”

So what these people need to understand then is, well, what’s the thing that we missed? Zero is not the bottom. Zero point energy is quite literally the energy that exists below zero. The energy below the Ground State.

So “zero” is not the bottom. That’s not “zero”. It’s just the Ground State. It’s just the equilibrium state. That’s us, on top of the ocean. We’re on top of the ocean, floating around.

So what’s Negative Energy? Oh, if we tap into that Zero Point energy, we pull it out!

And what are those orbs doing in that video? This is why it’s proof!

This is why the “zap” in the video is absolute proof. The orbs are inducing a Negative Energy state through a low energy Phase Transition. The Ground State of – imagine, just a hydrogen atom. The Ground State of the hydrogen atom is shrinking a little bit, because they’re shrinking the space.

Like, you look at my screen right here. Let me see if I can make this work. They’re shrinking the size of the space, itself. And when you do this, everything comes together. Everything gets squished together.

And when you do this, it changes the Permittivity of the Vacuum of that region of space-time. It allows for Negative Energy to be possible, because the Ground State goes down for every atom that’s there. And when that occurs, there’s a release of energy.

That release of energy is an ultraviolet light. This is why in the Whammy [?] video, the “satellite video”, you see a flash of light come.

So we’re like, “Oh, there’s light.” But when you look in the thermal, it’s black. It’s cold. So: ultraviolet light.

Clayton Morris: So, let’s show, let’s show that.

(Roll thermal video of MH-370 with three revolving orbs)

Clayton Morris: So this is the one where we see –

Ashton Forbes: – that’s gravitational lensing, right there.

Clayton Morris: So what are we seeing here? So there, it disappears.

Ashton Forbes: That was the frame, right beforehand. And then, the frame right after this wormhole opens up, by the way, there’s only four frames of this wormhole and you can actually see it open and close. You can even see the tail of the plane in the first frame right there.

Now, what you’re seeing here is, you’re seeing space-time being contracted. And when it gets contracted, the Refractive Index, the Permittivity of the Vacuum changes. And when that happens, what you see is this effect, where the Ground State of your atom; of your hydrogen atom, your orbs goes down.

And what this does is it’s like a trampoline, like jumping on a little trampoline. It pulls a little bit of energy out and it doesn’t even have to be that much energy, because those balls of plasma are 20 feet wide of condensed charge. They’re extremely powerful magnets.

So when you jam them together, the closer they get, that force goes up and it amplifies, to a degree where then, boom, space-time, itself breaks down. Space-time, itself breaks down and magnetic reconnection occurs when the orbs get too close because these magnetic fields, these orbs is so powerful.

Now, the last thing I want to say on the orbs, for you to understand, which is helpful, is that these are orbs of Coherent Plasma, meaning that what’s happening is the magnetic and electric fields the plasma is producing is what’s being used to make it into a sphere.

You would say, wait, what? It’s actually, itself is making the fields that keep it trapped? Yes. So what they figured out is if they move the plasma around the right way, the fields will cause the plasma to become an orb that stays coherent in the sky that can float around.

And that’s called Magnetohydrodynamics (MHD). You’ll see the acronym all over the place. They’re using controlled powerful magnetic fields to move the plasma around, keep the charge separated, the positive and the negative, so that it acts like a lightning bolt.

And then, somebody at some point figured out, “Oh, let’s just jam a few of these together and then, boom, we can make things disappear!”

The last point I want to make is, well, you’re saying it’s “teleportation”. It could probably annihilate something, as well, but for several reasons, including the phones ringing, the plane being seen later on, and all this weird dance the orbs are doing on the plane, I think it’s actual teleportation.

So what’s happening is the orbs must have an equal number of charge between the four orbs. You’ve got three orbs around the plane and you’ve got one orb somewhere else. So when this plane is being teleported – Delta, don’t sue me – and then comes back, the orbs need to cancel-out.

So, let’s say you’ve got two of the orbs are positively-charged and two are negatively-charged. When they come together, they’re going to equalize and they’re going to dissipate. That could be one configuration.

The other configuration would could be that the three orbs next to the plane all add up to one negative charge. And then, you have one positive charge, let’s say, at Diego Garcia or in the Maldives. And then, when the orbs come together, it causes them to slingshot and come together and then they appear at your new location.

That’s what these people have figured out. And it’s crazy, because it’s so far beyond our current paradigm, to think that, not only could we have figured-out gravity and have an actual working warp drive and wormhole technology, but to actually use it on an airplane that, itself is not equipped.

It’s not like it’s a Starship Enterprise. We used it on an airplane that was flying around in the sky. So this is like, you realize the implications of this, right away, as I’m sure you’ve considered. You could teleport a nuke onto somebody. This is technology that obsoletes all prior forms of weaponry.

Clayton Morris: It’s amazing to think and you have this whole battle discussion over Iran and “developing a nuclear weapon”. And in many ways, the whole thing is moot, because this technology is so far more advanced than all of that.

I want you to stick around, Ashton, if you can, and we want to move our, we’re going to do this whole Rumble Premium thing and I want to kind of open it up for a lot of people to ask questions here, if we can. But before we get there, and by the way, if you’re watching us on YouTube, come on over to Rumble. We’ve got 30,000 of you watching us live on Rumble, right now.

All the tens of thousands of you, over on YouTube, come on over to our Rumble Premium, right now, because we’re going to hang out with Ashton, if we can.

When we talk about time travel, and we talk about when you’re moving into this wormhole, are we actually jumping through time or the way that we think of time, I guess?

Ashton Forbes: Yeah, I thought you might ask me that. It’s funny, because I spent last night trying to figure that out and now, I think I have a good answer: that the wormhole itself, if you’re traveling through it, there’s no time that’s passing, no matter where the opening and closing is.

And if you follow the Principle of Least Action, this would mean that there’s never going to be any passage of time, while you’re traveling through the wormhole. And if you then put one more restriction and say that “The mouth of the wormhole cannot move.” It can only be in one spot, as in, it opens and closes and it’s not there anymore.

If you make those two restrictions, it’s no longer possible to go back in time. Reverse causality is no longer possible, no matter how you look at it. You will always, even if you go through a portal, go through a different portal, you’ll never show up at a time before you started the process.

So, in my opinion right now, having done the physics, is that there is no way for you to actually go back to a previous time in the Universe. But you can actually travel in time. Time travel is 100% real.

You can do two different things, which I think are extremely significant. You can travel to the future, number one. You can slow your rate of time, so that everything else looks like it’s speeding-up around you, to such a degree, where you could go 100 years in the future.

All of a sudden, it’s 100 years in the future, and you’re like, “Whoa, how did that happen?” It would be extremely disorienting, but you could do it.

The other thing you could do is you could reverse your biological process. You could put a bubble around yourself and reverse the entropy of inside the bubble, which is you and your age, and you could reverse your age.

Before you ask me, would you remember that? I actually asked Navy engineer Salvatore Pais this question. His opinion is you would still remember, because his belief is your consciousness is stored in the Zero-Point Energy, not – your body as just a receiver – which, I tend to agree, but obviously speculative.

Clayton Morris: That’s unbelievable. Time travel is real, and I know I’ve always wanted to talk to you more deeply about this, and we will. Ashton, thank you so much.

Watch the video here…

Time Travel Is Real and Here’s How it Works, Government Has Been Hiding It | Redacted

Laugh-in and being “very interesting”

Back in the 1960’s, oh when I was in elementary school, we kids would watch television after school… then came dinner.

After dinner the adult shows came on. Not “adult” in terms of XXX rated and porn. But really, just shows that our parents would watch, but that us kids were uninterested in.

The top show at that time was a show called “Laugh In”.

“Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” (often simply called “Laugh-In”) was a groundbreaking American sketch comedy television show that aired from 1968 to 1973 on NBC. It became a cultural phenomenon in the late 1960s and early 1970s, blending rapid-fire jokes, political satire, and surreal humor in a way that was fresh and revolutionary for its time. Here’s a breakdown of what made it so popular and some of its most memorable skits and routines:

What Made “Laugh-In” So Popular?

Fast-Paced, High-Energy Format:
- “Laugh-In” was known for its quick cuts, rapid-fire jokes, and nonstop energy. It felt like a comedy explosion, with jokes, one-liners, and visual gags coming at the audience in rapid succession.
Political and Social Satire:
- The show wasn’t afraid to tackle the political and social issues of the day, including the Vietnam War, civil rights, and the counterculture movement. It used humor to comment on current events, making it both timely and relevant.
Catchphrases and Running Gags:
- “Laugh-In” introduced a slew of catchphrases that entered the popular lexicon, such as:
  - “Sock it to me!”

“You bet your sweet bippy!”

“Very interesting”

Innovative Use of Television:
- The show broke the mold of traditional TV comedy with its use of quick cuts, psychedelic visuals, and breaking the fourth wall. It felt modern and experimental, appealing to younger audiences.
Diverse Cast of Comedic Talent:
- The show featured a mix of established comedians and fresh faces, including:
  - Dan Rowan and Dick Martin (the hosts).
  - Goldie Hawn (who became a breakout star).
  - Lily Tomlin.
  - Arte Johnson.
  - Ruth Buzzi.
  - Jo Anne Worley.
  - Henry Gibson.
  - Judy Carne.
Celebrity Cameos:
- “Laugh-In” frequently featured guest appearances by celebrities, politicians, and public figures, including Richard Nixon, who famously appeared in 1968 to say, “Sock it to me?” in an attempt to appear hip and relatable.

Memorable Skits and Routines

The Joke Wall:

One of the most iconic segments, the Joke Wall featured cast members popping their heads through holes in a wall to deliver one-liners and puns. It was fast, silly, and endlessly entertaining.

The Cocktail Party:
- In this recurring sketch, the cast mingled at a party, delivering absurd and often nonsensical dialogue. Arte Johnson’s character, Tyrone F. Horneigh, would often flirt with Ruth Buzzi’s Gladys Ormphby, leading to hilariously awkward moments.
The Farkel Family:

A parody of wholesome family sitcoms, the Farkel Family sketches featured the cast as a bizarre, dysfunctional family with over-the-top antics.

Arte Johnson’s German Soldier:
- Arte Johnson played a bumbling German soldier who would pop up in random places, deliver a punchline, and then get hit by a prop or fall over. His catchphrase, “Verrry interesting… but stupid!” became a classic.
Lily Tomlin’s Characters:
- Lily Tomlin created several unforgettable characters, including:

Ernestine, the snarky telephone operator who would say, “One ringy-dingy, two ringy-dingy…”

Edith Ann, a precocious little girl who sat in a giant rocking chair and shared her hilariously naive observations.

The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate Award:

This segment awarded a “prize” to individuals or organizations that had done something particularly ridiculous or outrageous. It was a sharp piece of satire that poked fun at real-world absurdities.

Mod, Mod World:

A psychedelic segment featuring the cast in colorful, mod outfits dancing and delivering jokes against a trippy, kaleidoscopic background. It captured the spirit of the 1960s counterculture.

The News Segment:
- A parody of news broadcasts, featuring Henry Gibson as a poet who delivered absurd, rhyming commentary on current events.

Cultural Impact

“Laugh-In” was more than just a TV show; it was a reflection of the changing times. It embraced the irreverence and experimentation of the 1960s, appealing to both young and old audiences.
The show’s influence can be seen in later sketch comedy programs like “Saturday Night Live” and “In Living Color.”
It also played a role in shaping political discourse, using humor to engage with serious issues in a way that was accessible and entertaining.

Legacy

“Laugh-In” remains a beloved piece of television history, remembered for its bold humor, innovative style, and unforgettable characters. Its impact on comedy and pop culture is still felt today, and its sketches and catchphrases continue to be referenced and celebrated.

…

Guys, it was part of the society at that time. Some of the jokes still “hold water”, but much of it is dated and reflects a strange time in American society.

*sigh*

Today…

China actively delinks from the US

With today’s report that Chinese airlines and state-owned corporations have been instructed to stop taking delivery of Boeing airliners and US-made aircraft parts, we can now be sure that Beijing has decided to actively delink from US suppliers and partners.

Bloomberg and CNBC reported that there has been no written directive from the Chinese report. The fact is that these directives are NEVER written; they are delivered by phone call from the Chinese government’s Central Committee. The fact that it is from the Central Committee means that this is not Xi’s personal decision; this is joint consensus among Committee members.

Boeing and US aircraft parts manufacturers were counting on the Chinese market to support their growth over the next two decades; now that is gone.

The question now is how Boeing is going to survive the next two decades.

The same is happening to US farmers, because China is now not buying US soybeans and other farm products. The leading US food processors will also suffer.

China is now instructing local companies to shift away from selling to the US, as it is no longer considered a reliable partner for trade and manufacturing. This means that they will diversify sales and trade to other markets.

What the f*ck is happening in New York City..

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Quacking Sensation

Ah, dear reader, welcome back to my ever-growing collection of tales! Today’s story is one of bewilderment, farmyard hysteria, and an unrefined quack that somehow managed to sweep the farm into a frenzy. Yes, you read that correctly—a quack. It is a tale of misplaced admiration, an unstoppable ego, and, of course, my valiant efforts to restore order (and sanity) to the farm. Prepare yourself for the absurdly funny and utterly perplexing tale of Sir Whiskerton and the Quacking Sensation.

Meet Ferdinand the Duck

It all began one sunny morning, as most of these stories do. I was enjoying a quiet moment near the barn, basking in the warmth of the sun and savoring the sound of the gentle breeze rustling through the trees. All was peaceful… until it wasn’t.

“Quack, quack, quaaaaaaaack!”

The sound pierced the air like a rusty hinge on an un-oiled gate. I winced, my ears flattening against my head.

“What in the name of whiskers was that?” I muttered, looking toward the pond.

There, standing atop a rock and puffing out his feathery chest, was Ferdinand the duck. He flapped his wings dramatically, tilted his head back, and unleashed another cacophonous “quaaaaaack!”

Before I could cover my sensitive ears, a crowd of farm animals had gathered around the pond.

“Oh, Ferdinand!” Doris the hen clucked. “Your voice is simply divine!”
“Divine! But also so powerful!” Harriet added.
“Powerful! Oh, it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard!” Lillian screeched.
“Like nothing we’ve ever heard!” Doris echoed.

Porkchop waddled over, his eyes wide with admiration. “That’s not just quacking—it’s art. Ferdinand, you’ve got a gift!”

“Gifted? Oh, please,” Rufus said, rolling his eyes. “He’s just quacking like any other duck.”

But the others weren’t listening. Ferdinand flapped his wings again, basking in the adoration of his newfound fans.

“Thank you, thank you,” he said, bowing dramatically. “I’ve always known I was different. Some might call me a prodigy. A once-in-a-generation talent.”

I groaned, rubbing my temples with my paw. This was going to be a long day.

The Duck’s Rising Fame

Within hours, Ferdinand’s fame had spread across the farm. Everywhere I went, I heard animals singing his praises (pun intended).

“Such perfect pitch!” Doris clucked.
“Such fine vocal technique!” Harriet added.
“Such amazing timbre!” Lillian screeched.

“Such nonsense,” I muttered under my breath.

By lunchtime, Ferdinand had assembled a group of loyal “duck groupies” who followed him everywhere, clapping their wings and shouting his name.

“Ferdinand! Ferdinand! Give us another quack!”

“Oh, very well,” Ferdinand said, tilting his head back dramatically. “I suppose I could grace you with an encore.”

“Quack, quack, quaaaaaaaack!”

The groupies erupted into cheers, stomping their feet and squawking in delight. Meanwhile, I was busy trying not to claw my own ears off.

A Private Word with Ferdinand

Unable to take it any longer, I decided it was time to have a word with the so-called singing sensation. I found Ferdinand lounging on a hay bale, surrounded by his adoring fans.

“Ferdinand,” I said, clearing my throat.

“Ah, Sir Whiskerton,” Ferdinand said, waving a wing. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Come to praise my voice, have you?”

“Not exactly,” I said, sitting down and curling my tail around my paws. “Ferdinand, don’t you think all this… attention is a bit much for what is, quite frankly, just quacking?”

“Just quacking?” Ferdinand gasped, clutching his chest as if I’d insulted his very soul.

“Just quacking?!” Doris squawked, stepping forward. “Oh, Sir Whiskerton, how could you say such a thing?”
“Such a thing! Oh, it’s blasphemous!” Harriet clucked.
“Blasphemous! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

“Enough,” I said, holding up a paw. “I didn’t mean to offend, but surely we can all agree that Ferdinand’s ‘singing’ is… subjective, at best.”

“Subjective?” Ferdinand said, narrowing his eyes. “Sir Whiskerton, you simply don’t understand art. Perhaps your refined tastes have dulled your appreciation for raw talent.”

“Raw is right,” I muttered under my breath.

The Unexpected Plot Twist

Just as I was preparing to argue further, a new sound interrupted us. It was a low, mournful howl, followed by a series of high-pitched yips. The entire barnyard fell silent, and all eyes turned toward Bingo the dog, who had been quietly napping in the corner.

“Bingo?” I said, tilting my head.

Bingo stood up, his tail wagging nervously. “Oh, uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just… well, sometimes when Ferdinand quacks, it makes me want to… you know, howl.”

“To howl?” Doris squawked.
“Howl?! Oh, how unusual!” Harriet clucked.
“Unusual! Oh, I can’t bear the suspense!” Lillian cried.

“Maybe Bingo has a point,” I said, my whiskers twitching with amusement. “Why don’t we let him sing a duet with Ferdinand?”

“A duet?!” Ferdinand squawked, looking horrified. “You want me to share the spotlight with… a dog?”

“Why not?” I said with a smirk. “Surely a talent like yours can handle a little competition.”

The Duet Disaster

Reluctantly, Ferdinand agreed to the duet, and the entire farm gathered to watch. Ferdinand began with his usual “quack, quack, quaaaaaaaack,” and Bingo joined in with a loud, soulful howl.

The result was… well, let’s just say it was unique. The combination of Ferdinand’s screechy quacks and Bingo’s off-key howls sent shivers down my spine—not the good kind.

By the time they finished, the entire barnyard was in stunned silence.

“Well,” Porkchop said, scratching his head. “That was… something.”

“Something! But what was it?!” Doris clucked.
“What?! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian cried.

Ferdinand, however, looked pleased. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, bowing. “I believe we’ve just invented a new genre of music. I call it ‘Quack-n-Howl.’”

The Moral of the Story

In the end, Ferdinand’s fame continued to grow, and while his “singing” still grated on my nerves, I couldn’t deny that it brought the farm together in its own ridiculous way. The moral of the story, dear reader, is this: sometimes, it’s not about talent or skill—it’s about confidence and the joy you bring to others. And while I may never understand the appeal of a quacking duck, I’ve learned to appreciate the laughter it brings.

As for Ferdinand? Well, I suspect we haven’t heard the last of him. Until next time, my friends.

The End.

AC/DC – Back In Black, if it was recorded in the 50s

This is completely and absolutely surreal.

Everyone at first thought ‘Made in China 2030’ list, was real. But recent events suggest otherwise. Can China actually do it? Can China really make its own aeroplanes, semiconductors, electric cars, etc., by 2030, just 5 years from now?

Let’s see the list of Chinese achievements between 2015–2025

Indigenous Fighter Aircraft Engines
Indigenous On board Radar
Indigenous Avionics
Indigenous Wind Tunnel
Indigenous Commercial Aircraft Body (Duralium)
Indigenous Aircraft Wheels
Indigenous Landing Gear
Full Dominance in Legacy Chips (<= 45 nm Node process) manufacturing
Dominance in Chip Design (Upto 3 nm)
Indigenous Stealth Technology
Indigenous Rare Earth Refining dominance
Indigenous Green Energy Technologies – Hydrogen, Batteries
Indigenous Nuclear Technology
Indigenous Satellite design & manufacturing
Indigenous Satellite Constellation and Navigation
Indigenous 5G Equipment and Communications edge

China has achieved “Par” or even “Dominant” Status in all these areas in the last decade

Here is the list of things China aims to develop Par Status by 2035:-

Optical Instruments & Opto electronics
Manufacturing Dominance in Non Legacy Chips (7–28 nm Node Process)
Indigenous supply chain for GPU Chips
Indigenous 6G Equipment and Communications edge
MRI Machines
Immunotherapy Drugs for Cancer & Auto Immune Diseases
Commercial Aircraft Engines
Commercial Aircraft Body (Composite Materials)
Hypersonic Missiles
Advanced Stealth Technology

I see no reason why China can’t achieve their demands between 2025–2035

Hot Damn! It’s The Soggy Bottom Boys! | O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000) | TUNE

Plaga Iuventae: A Debt to Pay, Part 1

Submitted into Contest #207 in response to: A journalist has been granted permission to visit the premises of a lab carrying out top-secret work. They could never have anticipated what they’d find…… view prompt

Steffen Lettau

Author’s note: This is the first half of the full story, as it would exceed the maximum word count.It is a unique and perplexing privilege for a journalist like me to put my life on the line, whether it is interviewing a serial killer in his own cell, a former member of a crime syndicate in his own house, or even a politician that might be marked for death…or marking me for my death, as I do tend to pry. Hey, I’m a journalist; the worst is that I die.But I prefer to die quickly, as opposed to something like poison or lynching. And even though I am no germaphobe, getting sick and falling to the whims of a bacteria or virus has never been settling. So, why did I volunteer to go to the lab of one of the most hunted virologists on the planet? Well, technically, I didn’t know it was his lab.Sorry, let me start from the top; I am Ian Sung, a journalist from Seoul, South Korea. A damned good one, I might add; I speak six languages including English, I’ve been to every first world country and a dozen third world countries, I have helped to expose dictators and criminal organizations from drug peddlers and exotic animal trading to child trafficking, and I have escaped several gunfights from paramilitary to police and gangbangers. Overall, I’m one lucky sonofabitch, and I have the money and awards to prove it. But there was one story that stood above the rest.Fair warning: what you are about to hear is disturbing but true, for I was there to personally interview the infamous “Doctor Plague”.Everyone was practically after this man, from the local police to every single government around the world, dead or alive. Hell, thanks to the large bounty on his head, just about every human being alive was keeping an eye out for him. Every day, a bulletin was made about any information on the subject, and a witness or two would report what they thought was the doctor and where he might be. So far, he remained elusive. Now, how did I find him?I didn’t. He found me.For legal reasons, and because I want to stay employed, I will not be giving out the name of the outlet from where I work, nor will I divulge any names outside of my own, the doctor’s, or any names mentioned by the doctor; with that, I will refer my employer as “Boss”, my friend and coworker “KC”, all witnesses by number and all officers by letter. I will, however, divulge the names of places and projects, as people have a right to know the locations (except where it is classified by either government or by the wishes of an individual).One witness, Witness 1, reached our news outlet to let us know that he swore seeing the Doctor Plague himself somewhere near the city hall in our fair Salem, Oregon. Initially, I brought up that such was impossible, as stated in a recording left by the doctor himself – a lengthy tape record becoming the final notice left at his former residence (I made a copy for posterity) – “I will be avoiding cities as much as possible*…”Still, Boss wasn’t about to let a potential sighting go to waste, and needed someone to go interview Witness 1 personally. He would send KC with me, as she would be driving both me and Camera-Man in her personal van (most industry workers that made our vans were dead, amongst the other two billion lives because of the “plaga iuventae”, or commonly called Plakkim’s Disease (not a conventional disease, but let’s not digress). Boss made it clear that I should not return without something solid, and if I could find more witnesses or leads (which I will also refer to with numbers and not names), I was to get the statements, describe all pieces of evidence (giving such to the police, of course), and explore even the Plague Doctor’s former residence and place of work. I mentioned that no one could get into the workplace without authorization, to which he responded, “Pitch a tent outside if you have to!”

Maybe I should call him “Hard-Ass” instead?

My team and I stopped at the local library, just so I could gather a few books and articles on viruses, genetic symptoms, and malpractices throughout history. Afterwards, we stopped at the apartment residence of Witness 1, who was eagerly waiting outside. I wanted to get as much information as possible, so I planned to pry as many names out of him as possible. Camera-Man set up his equipment, making sure to keep the camera pointed away from the complex, as well as any street signs that would lead anyone to the witness. Witness one didn’t mind showing his face to the camera, so long as we didn’t release his name. KC monitored her equipment, recording and setting the proper tones and digital lighting on her personal computer, connected wirelessly to both Camera-Man’s camera and my microphone.

After introductions between only us (anonymity, mind you), I asked my questions and got these answers:

“You have lived here long?”

“Yessem, since I was a kid.”

“I see. And has this recent epidemic affected you?”

“Not personally, sir. There were people that I have grown up with that recently passed away, mainly because of that treatment, that so-called ‘cure’, and it was horrible, from what I heard.”

“Do you know about Blake Plakkim, a.k.a ‘Doctor Plague’, the man responsible for that?”

“Yessem, but I think his organization was responsible far more than him. He had not done all this by his lonesome, you know.”

“Have you talked with anyone from Blake’s organization?”

“No. I avoid that place like the plague…no pun intended.”

“But you did claim to the outlet that you saw Doctor Plakkim?”

“Yessim. All hooded up and moving inconspicuously at the supermarket where I shop, but the face was familiar from the depiction on T.V.”

“I see. One more question; is there anyone else who may have seen him, or anyone that would have more information on him?”

“None I know of. You could try talking to the mayor; she might know something.”

Wrapping up, I reflected on that organization, Blake’s former workplace. Mentioning it to KC, she agreed to a drive-by sight-seeing of the place; upon doing so, we saw that more security was there than usual, like someone dropped off a military compound around the building. We decided to try that place last, and went to see the mayor.

Surprisingly, she was willing to do an interview, so long as we just referred to her as “Mrs. Mayor”, and her personal guard as “Witness 2.” Before the interview, Witness 2 warned me not to pry too deeply, as Mrs. Mayor had recently lost her husband and both parents to the disease, or the interview was off.

“Mrs. Mayor, thank you for having us. These times are hard on everyone, and all we want is to conclude this nightmare with justice and peace of mind.”

I immediately thought that I had gone too far, but she smiled and nodded. Witness 2 kept watch over me, ready to answer when it was his turn.

“Mrs. Mayor, when this…event happened, did you want to launch an investigation into Blake’s organization?”

“I did. I was recommended against it, given how it was a corporation with federal ties, and I was just a mayor of Salem. I pushed that notion aside, and I went to their front door and demanded to talk to someone.”

“Did you?”

“Not for a few days.”

I nodded. “And you, Witness 2, you mentioned a certain incident? One that you swore involved the spitting image of Blake Plakkim?”

“It WAS Blake! He was moving around the parking lot, and he was looking for something.”

“Which was…?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t call it ‘something’. If I had to guess, it was the Mayor’s car.”

“You checked her car?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a guard if I didn’t. Her safety is my concern.”

I took it that this Witness 2 didn’t like me very much. Probably bad press, or whatever excuse gets thrown our way. I turned back to Mrs. Mayor:

“What happened after a few days?”

“Well, after my guard chased away someone from my car, I received a call from a ‘Harrold Tooms’, wanting to talk to me. Not inside his building, nor mine, but somewhere in public. Uh, a restaurant, actually!”

I wrote down the name. “This Harrold a lawyer or a manager? Did he know Blake?”

“He didn’t say anything beyond being a representative. He was willing to divulge quite a bit about Plakkim…that is, about the man and not much about his work. Oh, he did mention about the plague being an attempt at a cure!”

At this, she suddenly went silent, and turned to a picture frame upon her desk. Immediately, Witness 2 stepped between us and her: the interview was immediately over.

I thanked Mrs. Mayor for her time and the opportunity to talk with her and Witness 2. She smiled after I assured her that we would get to the bottom of all of this, and she wished us luck. Witness 2, on the other hand, wished us to get the huff out. Yeah, you know the actual word, but my work is G-rated.

PG at worst.

Coming outside, we found a note under the van’s wiper blades. KC freaked out, thinking it was a parking ticket, but I took it off and saw that it was a note:

GOT SEOUL, MAN? GRAM, ANA.

I looked around. KC freaked out again, and Camera-Man actually went into the van and pulled out a tire iron. Aside from the passerby, a few looking on us curiously, there wasn’t anyone close by. We decided to hit up a hotel for the night.

Morning came, and I was first to rise and dress. Looking at the note, I pondered about who this Ana person was. And then, it hit me!

Ana Gram…anagram! And if that’s the case, then the initial message was not some random threat or lead, but was an attempt to reach us! But for what, and to where? Clearly, the message was directed to me, but then there was the part about the anagram, so I had to rearrange the letters.

The best I got was “atoms lounge”. Something about it seemed familiar…

Snap! Of course! The Atom Bistro and Coffee Bar! I’ve been there before. Apparently, so had the messenger, which also meant that this person was following us. Was it Blake, or someone who knew him? Was it someone who wanted to find him? Maybe it was some sleuth, working with the authorities. Or maybe it was a bounty hunter, even an assassin, and this person was using us to find Blake. I checked my watch: 6:22 A.M. Time for a drive to breakfast.

We arrived at nine on the dot; Camera-Man had a lot to drain out at the hotel. So did KC, but don’t tell her that. Anyways, we were at our own table, having ordered breakfast, when the waitress asked us if there was a fourth member joining us. Surprised, I told her that we weren’t expecting anyone, and she left with our orders. Now, bear with me, here is where things get alarming.

Blake Plakkim sat at our table.

Initially, someone with a poncho-style hooded sweater just sat himself beside me, opposite Camera-Man and KC. I was about to interject, to ask him to leave, when he hissed this warning to all three of us: “Don’t speak, or I open this.” At that moment, he placed what I could only describe as a spherical case between me and him.

A few minutes later, the waitress came over and inquired if there was a problem. When no one answered, I stepped in and said that there was a mistake, that someone was joining us for breakfast as part of our interview for the network. She smiled and asked the newcomer for his order, which he gave courteously as if he didn’t walk in here with a potential explosive. When she left, Blake turned to look at me, and all I could say was, “Doctor Plague?”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t ever call me that again! My name is Doctor Blake Plakkim. Now… got Seoul, man?”

Now my eyes narrowed. A pun at our literal expense, in a public place. “I…am Korean, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Blake smiled. “More than that, you’re a journalist. A well-respected one named Ian Sung. I’ve followed your work.”

I nodded. “And now you’re literally following me. You do know you’re a wanted man?”

“Heh. What else is new?”

I sighed. “What do you want?”

He turned away from me, his eyes upon the table as his hood would obscure the rest of his face. “It’s what I can give you. To the world. But I need to do this my way. Not the government’s. Not the organization’s. Not yours.”

The breakfast came, and I was perplexed at how fast Blake ate with one hand on a fork and the other on the case. Meanwhile, Camera-Man and KC ate diligently, watching the both of us. I ate with reluctance, feeling the case on my thigh at all times. Afterwards, we sat there quietly as I paid the bill, only asking one question:

“Is any of this wise, with all the eyes of the world looking for you to either arrest or kill?”

He shifted himself up from the seat, dragging the case with him. “I can’t run and hide forever if I want the truth out. You have the access, the reputation, and now you have my attention. I’ll give you all the information you’ll need, even access to my new lab, but only you and your two associates. Tell no one except your network what happened here. No cops, no strangers, and no ‘associates’ of mine.” Before he left, he left me another note, this one sealed. “This is a letter to your boss. Make sure only he sees it.”

He walked out, inconspicuous as described.

This shocking visitation left us in that restaurant for another half-hour before we hurried back to the van (I checked the whole vehicle over for anything, whether from Blake or not). Another three hours later, we were all in front of Boss, and I handed him the note and told him that only he was to read it. He nodded, the opportunity of a lifetime basically in his hands; how he would play this out was up to him. He excused me, saying that he would let me know what he’ll want next.

Another call came to our outlet, and Boss’s secretary came for me rather than to the hard-ass. I told her to take a message, but she insisted that the person on the line would not hold for anyone except me, and he had information regarding Blake Plakkim. Honestly, after meeting the man, I wanted a break, but I decided to humor the secretary and I took the phone, asking, “Hello, this is Ian Sung, how may I help you?”

“Hello,” said a soothing deep voice, “I am Harrold Tooms. May I have a moment of your time?”

*from the first Plaga Iuventae.

Chinas Growing Military Power SHOCKS USA: War is Coming w/ Col. Zhou Bo

What funny but slightly inappropriate thing has happened to you?

I was at the grocery store. Maybe it was a case of being at the right place at the right time, but still….

So what happened? Well, the stuff that the woman wanted was on the very top of the shelf, she tried to “whack it down” with her cane. Instead, they went back behind, way out of reach. Well, this guy asked her “Ma’am? Which one did you want?” She pointed it with her cane.

This guy (taller than both of us but still short), climbed up and grabbed (she wanted 2) and using one hand to try to bend over to give her two cans, lost his balance, and he grabbed the first thing he could, I was wearing a tank top, so he grabbed my tank top and my bra, ripping it as he lost his balance (but I broke his fall by “catching him”).

By this time the Store Meat Manager (he saw what happened), rushed over. The guy was fine, but the first thing he said was

“OOPSIE MA’AM, I DIDN’T MEAN TO POP YOUR BOOBY!”

I had to pull my tank top up (he broke my bra and the upper right side “strap” of the tank top), using my arm to hold “what’s left of it” to cover my boob!

Meat Manager, he was red-faced and pulled me over behind the display rack (canned goods) and ordered an employee to grab something. It was a spare t-shirt, size XXXL, with the store and the slogan saying ‘I’VE GOT THE BIG MEATS’

REALLY? I am sorry but customers and a couple of other employees who saw this guy almost crashing to the floor… were cracking up!

That same guy, he wasn’t hurt, but he was still embarrassed, pulled out his wallet and a bill folded up into my hand and he left the store (leaving his few items behind). I thought maybe it was $5 or $10 to replace the bra and tank top. I really didn’t need it, so I just put it in my shorts pocket and totally forgotten about it.

FAST FORWARD: I didn’t put those shorts on for a long time, I wore them for about 2 hours, and just folded them up and put them in the drawer. Once winter was over, we were all going to go fishing, I pulled those shorts out and there was the bill, still in my pocket, and I laughed – couldn’t believe I had forgotten it, but when I opened it up, it was a $100.00 bill!

Wife Craved So Much Drama She Framed A Neighbor For Her “Neighborhood Cheating Board”, Now She’s…

At what point did you realize no one cares about you?

It was the summer of 1975. I was 14, home alone, parents at work. Three boys from the local high school came over saying they wanted to visit with my older brother who was due home soon from his summer job. It was considered polite in the US south to invite guests inside and offer them a cold drink, which I did. What happened over the next 30 minutes is something unspeakable. Fast forward to the beginning of the school year in September. I told nobody what occurred because in our small, southern town, girls who were “loose” were ostracized and considered tainted. If my parents had found out they would now have a ruined daughter. Uneated food on lunch trays was dumped on me while sitting alone in the cafeteria, my former friends began calling me vile names and I was suddenly an an island living an isolated life. 50 years ago kids who were abused had no outlet like counseling. I was 14.

In my 20’s I went to the library and found books that explained the trauma I went through. They explained that I was a victim and should feel no shame since I was attacked. They helped me somewhat but didn’t help with the night terrors and my trust issues which continue to this day at age 63. It was a long time ago this happened. I’m much better but only trust a handful of people. The boys didn’t do so well in life. One died at age 33 and the other two are losers. That day almost 50 years ago was a hard lesson that showed me no one cared. I am a success today because when one has been so low I found internal strength to survive.

Roasted Pork and Potato Duet

Yield: 10 servings

Ingredients

2 teaspoons rubbed sage
1 garlic clove, pressed
1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 center loin pork roast, rolled and tied (3 1/2 to 4 pounds)
1 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes, cut into fourths (2 to 3 large)
1 1/2 pounds russet potatoes, cut into large chunks (3 to 4 medium)

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
In Small Batter Bowl, combine sage, garlic, thyme, salt and black pepper. Rub all but 2 teaspoons of the herb mixture evenly over the surface of pork roast.
Place roast in Rectangular Baker. Toss potatoes with remaining herb mixture; arrange potatoes around roast. Cover with Rectangular Lid/Bowl.
Bake 1 hour, 15 minutes. Using Oven Mitts, pull out oven rack and carefully remove Lid/Bowl from Baker, lifting away from you.
Bake roast and potatoes, uncovered, 15-30 minutes or until Pocket Thermometer inserted into meat registers 155 degrees F for medium or 165 degrees F for well done.
Remove potatoes to serving platter; set aside.
Remove roast to cutting board. Loosely tent with aluminum foil. Let roast stand 10 minutes before carving.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 580, Total Fat 25g, Sodium 390mg, Fiber 4g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

The Dark Truth Behind This Classic Twilight Zone Episode

Great episode.

Finished putting insulation and ceiling in Power shed

Hal Turner World January 05, 2025

My son was up this weekend and he finished putting in the 2″ x 6″ ceiling joists and the R-30 Insulation in the roof of the solar power shed.

Readers may recall that a couple weeks ago, when the temps went down to -3°F here in northeast PA, the battery temperature of the Lithium Iron Phosphate battery rack dropped down to 28 or 26 degrees.

That is perfectly fine for the batteries to continue supplying power, if they had to, but definitely NOT OK if any charging is, or might, take place.

Apparently, when Lithium batteries reach 32 degrees, if you try to charge them, it __could__ result in something called “lithium plating.”

From Google:

Lithium plating is a process that occurs in lithium-ion batteries when lithium ions build up on the surface of the anode instead of being inserted into the graphite particles. This can happen when the battery is charged too quickly or at a low temperature, which can cause the lithium ions to move too fast or too slowly, respectively.

Lithium plating can have a catastrophic impact on the battery's performance, safety, and lifetime.  Some signs of lithium plating include: A gradual decrease in discharge voltage and An increase in anode resistance.

Lithium plating can be prevented by charging the battery at the right temperature, which is between 41°F and 113°F (5°C and 45°C). If the battery is being used in an electric vehicle, it may not be possible to charge it within this temperature range, so it may need to be pre-heated.

I wonder how many TESLA Drivers knew about THAT little gem of inconvenience when they bought those pricey electric cars?

Anyway, at the time, we put a “Torpedo” heater in that shed. It ran off kerosene and we were able to select a temperature of 50 degrees on the heater’s thermostat to keep the shed warm.

By the way, the “shed” is a cement block building, with rebar, bond-beams, and a cement roof. The roof was poured onto galvanized, corrugated, steel. So the steel which was bare on the inside of the shed, acted as a sort of heat-sink; causing any heat in the shed to just flow out of it.

Last weekend, we bought a “Froth Kit” and applied spray foam to the inside of the roof, totally covering the exposed metal. That would serve to “break” the heat-sink. But spray foam only has an R-value of about 1 or 2. So we also bought 2″ x 6″ lumber to put in an actual ceiling, with R-30 fiberglass “bats” between the joists. That’s the work we finally got done this weekend.

So now, we’re as ready as we know how to be for this “Polar Vortex” that’s already arrived into the central USA, and which is forecast to affect pretty much the entire east coast this week.

I still have the “Torpedo” heater if needed, but with all the new insulation, it may NOT be needed. We’ll just have to wait and see.

You know, when I decided to go with this solar stuff, it was a STEEP learning curve. I thought we had gotten through it, until the intense cold came a couple weeks ago. The learning curve cropped-up again.

Lucky me!

/sarcasm

Global Currencies Are CRASHING: Major US Banks Warn $3,000 Gold In 2025 – What This Means

Shorpy Pictures

Former SG Minister EXPOSES Propaganda Against China

Will Russia’s defeat in Ukraine lead finally to the dissolution of the Russian Federation as everybody outside Russia so dearly hopes for?

There is no sign that Russia will be defeated in Ukraine. All signs point to a victory for Russia in Ukraine.

The German publication Spiegel writes that the Ukrainian Armed Forces’ attempt to organize counterattacks in the Kursk region is an act of despair, since the Ukrainians are suffering defeat in all other directions. In particular, in the last few days alone, the Ukrainian Armed Forces were driven out of three villages near Pokrovsk: Dachenskoye, Novy Trud, and Volkovo. All of them are located south of Pokrovsk, so now the advanced units of the Russian army are only 3 km south of the city.

Even Zelensky reluctantly acknowledged the success of the Russian offensive in the Pokrovsk direction. In a television interview, he explained this, first of all, by the lack of reserves of the Ukrainian army.

“We are doing everything possible to ensure that the front is stabilized in January,” he said. But instead of sending additional reserves to the Pokrovsk direction, he is throwing them into the Kursk region.

According to The Telegraph, the Ukrainians, in desperation, are throwing the most modern equipment there, of which the Ukrainian Armed Forces have very little left. In particular, Challenger 2 tanks: video recordings of a Russian drone strike destroying a British tank have already appeared.

All negative news for Ukraine.

The best thing for Ukraine to do would be to join Russia. After all, they are both of Slavic ethnicity. The west would then not be able to press Ukraine to repay the hundreds of billions that they have spent on Ukraine and Russia can tell BlackRock to get the hell out of Ukraine. It will also mean that a Ukrainian can become the president of Russia in future and the coal and Lithium deposits in eastern Ukraine will still be a part of Ukraine, since Ukraine would be a part of Russia. And it would ensure no more fights between Russia and Ukraine.

Helter Skelter, but it’s Rockabilly… (I got blisters on my fingers!)

The Beatles song. WTF?

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Turkey Trouble

Ah, dear reader, you’re just in time for what I assure you is one of the most absurd and comical adventures yet. Today’s tale involves a turkey named Ethel—bless her birdbrain—and a mystery that takes us across farms, into the clutches of that scoundrel Catnip, and straight into the world of Thanksgiving dinner plans. As always, with the help of my loyal farmyard companions, a bit of wit, and a touch of luck, we’ll find a happy ending to this feather-brained predicament. Settle in for the hilarity-filled story of Sir Whiskerton and the Turkey Trouble.

Meet Ethel: The Not-So-Bright Turkey

It was a crisp autumn morning, and the farm was abuzz with activity. The hens were gossiping about their molting patterns, Porkchop was rolling in his favorite mud puddle, and Rufus was busy sneaking bites of the farmer’s leftover pumpkin pie. Meanwhile, I, Sir Whiskerton, was observing everything from my perch on the fence, enjoying the smell of fallen leaves and hay.

That’s when I first noticed her: Ethel, the turkey, waddling across the barnyard with a look of blissful ignorance plastered across her face. She was… how do I put this delicately? Not the sharpest feather in the flock. With each step, she pecked at the ground, gobbling up the enormous pile of turkey feed the farmer had laid out for her.

“Oh, Whiskerton! Isn’t this just wonderful?” Ethel said, her voice high-pitched and bubbly. She paused mid-waddle to look at me, her head tilting so far to the side I wondered how she didn’t topple over.

“What’s wonderful, Ethel?” I asked, my whiskers twitching with curiosity.

“All this food!” she said, gesturing wildly with her wings. “The farmer’s been giving me more and more every day. I think he’s planning something special for me. Maybe a party! Or… or… maybe I’m going to be named ‘Turkey of the Year’ at the Thanksgiving feast!”

I blinked. “Ethel… you do realize what Thanksgiving dinner usually involves, don’t you?”

“Of course!” she said, puffing out her chest. “It involves me being the star of the show! Oh, I can’t wait! I’ve been practicing my strut for weeks.”

I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.

Sounding the Alarm

I called an urgent meeting with the rest of the farm animals to discuss Ethel’s predicament. Everyone gathered in the barn: the hens (Doris, Harriet, and Lillian), Porkchop, Rufus, Sedgwick the wise old owl, and even Bingo the dog.

“Friends,” I began, pacing in front of the group, “we have a problem. Ethel the turkey is being fatted up for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“What?! Oh, not Ethel!” Porkchop exclaimed, his eyes wide.
“Not Ethel! Oh, how dreadful!” Doris squawked.
“Dreadful! But what can we do?!” Harriet clucked.
“Do?! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian cried.

“Enough,” I said, holding up a paw to silence the chaos. “The problem is, Ethel doesn’t understand what’s happening. She thinks the farmer is rewarding her. We need to convince her to leave the farm—before it’s too late.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Sedgwick said, his amber eyes gleaming. “She respects wisdom.”

Sedgwick flew down to Ethel, who was still happily munching on a pile of grain. “Ethel,” he began, “you must flee. The farmer—”

“Oh, Sedgwick!” Ethel interrupted, clapping her wings together. “Have you ever tasted this grain? It’s so buttery. I think the farmer’s giving me a special diet to make my feathers shinier for the celebration!”

Sedgwick sighed and flew back, shaking his head. “She’s… not very receptive.”

“I’ll try!” Porkchop said, waddling over to Ethel. “Ethel, listen. You’ve got to leave. The farmer’s plans for you aren’t what you think!”

“Oh, Porkchop,” Ethel said with a giggle, “I think you’re just jealous because you’re not the star of the Thanksgiving dinner.”

Porkchop waddled back, muttering under his breath. “Hopeless.”

A Feather-Brained Escape Plan

After several failed attempts to reason with Ethel, I decided it was time for action. “If she won’t leave on her own,” I said, “we’ll have to help her escape.”

The plan was simple: distract the farmer, lure Ethel out of the barnyard, and guide her to safety. Rufus volunteered to create the distraction (which mostly involved stealing the farmer’s hat and running in circles), while the rest of us worked together to lead Ethel toward the woods.

“Where are we going?” Ethel asked as we nudged her along. “Is this a surprise party? Oh, I love surprises!”

“Yes, yes, a party,” I said, my patience wearing thin. “Just keep walking.”

We managed to get her past the barnyard and into the woods, but then disaster struck. Ethel, distracted by a shiny pebble, wandered off the path and straight onto the neighboring farm—Catnip’s farm.

Catnip Strikes Again

“Ah, Whiskerton,” Catnip purred, emerging from behind a hay bale. “How delightful to see you. And who’s this?”

“This is Ethel,” I said warily. “She’s… a guest.”

“A guest, you say?” Catnip said, his green eyes gleaming. “How fascinating. Bonbo! Grumbles! Come meet our new friend.”

Bonbo the rat and Grumbles the mouse scurried over, their tiny eyes gleaming with mischief. “A turkey!” Bonbo squeaked. “How delicious—I mean, delightful!”

“Delightful!” Grumbles echoed, rubbing his tiny paws together.

“Catnip, don’t even think about it,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Think about what?” Catnip said innocently. “I was merely going to… introduce Ethel to the farmer here. He’s been looking for a turkey, you know.”

“Oh, how nice!” Ethel said, completely oblivious. “I’d love to meet him!”

Before I could stop her, Catnip led Ethel straight to the neighboring farmer’s porch. But instead of panic, the farmer simply smiled and said, “Ah, a turkey! Perfect addition to the family.”

“Family?” I said, confused.

“Oh yes,” the farmer said. “I’m a vegetarian. She’ll fit right in with the other birds.”

Ethel beamed. “Oh, thank you! I’ll be the best turkey you’ve ever had!”

Catnip, Bonbo, and Grumbles looked thoroughly disappointed as Ethel happily waddled inside.

A Happy Ending

As we walked back to our farm, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, I suppose things worked out for Ethel in the end.”

“Worked out? Oh, how wonderful!” Doris squawked.
“Wonderful! But also shocking!” Harriet clucked.
“Shocking! I thought she was doomed!” Lillian cried.
“Doomed! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Doris wailed.

“Enough,” I said, flicking my tail. “The moral of the story is this: even the dullest minds can find a bit of luck—and sometimes, the best way to help someone is to let them find their own way.”

With that, we returned to our farm, ready for whatever absurd adventure awaited us next.

The End.

When Women Finally Realize Men Are No Longer Afraid To Be Single | Men Only

The Next Step

George frost

“Jerry Culhannick.” He sat at his desk playing solitaire when his boss Harmon Newsome called his name. It was quitting time for Chrissakes, but he answered just in case it was good news.“Yo!” He hit the hallway on the move, nearly knocking over some of his colleagues trying to make an early exit from Crystal Image Studios.“Ah, you are in trouble now.” Carl Obleck snickered as he passed him in the hall. Carl was among the herd trying to make an early escape.“Shush.” Jerry shook his head.“Jerry, have a seat.” Mr. Newsome pointed to an empty chair. There was a strange man sitting in the other chair holding a briefcase and wearing dark sunglasses. “Jerry, I’ve got a hot one for you. Is Carl still in his cubicle?”“I doubt it.” Jerry smiled.“I’m gonna lock that back door one day.” He fumed a bit and then turned to the strange man sitting next to Jerry, “This is Jerry Culhannick.”“Good to meet you, Mr. Culhannick.” The stranger extended a mysterious hand which Jerry shook tentatively.“You are going to Ebsen Island in the morning.” Mr. Newsome straightened his tie.“What for? I thought that was a restricted area.” Jerry glanced at his boss and then the mysterious man sitting next to him.“It is.” The stranger said in an official voice, “My name is Dr. Abbalong and I work at the facility on the island. We have reached a stage in our research where we are ready to take the next step.”“The next step?” Jerry eyed the doctor.“In human evolution.” He did not stumble on his words, but it made a chill run up Jerry’s spine. The research on Ebson Island was top secret. No one really knew what Noble Research Inc. was working on their private island.“You will take Carl with you as your cameraman.” Mr. Newman ordered, “You are going to do a documentary on the research Noble Research is doing out there.”“Why me?” He asked, swallowing hard.“Because you are the best team I have on my staff.” He glared at Jerry.“You will see things that the world has yet to see.” Dr. Abbalong nodded.“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Jerry confessed.

“It’s not that bad.” Dr. Abbalong smiled, but it was not a comforting smile as far as Jerry was concerned.

“We will tell you what you can and cannot film.” Dr. Abbalong.

“What about freedom of press? Transparency of information?” Jerry asked.

“We control access. That must be clear and understood.” Dr. Abbalong’s voice became very serious, making Jerry wish he hadn’t been so flippant.

Sitting on the airplane with pontoons, Jerry glanced over at Carl who was holding the camera. The twin engines made conversation comprehension impossible, but Jerry could see that Carl was not happy to be on board the plane. The updraft from the sea water made the plane bounce like a ball. Three special agents with ear pieces and dark glasses sat across from Jerry and Carl on the fold out seats. The seats were uncomfortable as they bounced, but the special agents did not seem to be bothered by it.

The plane circled Ebson Island which was no more than a mile across, but he could see the runway from his window. Slowly the plane began to descend, but all Jerry could see was the ocean. He wondered if the plane would make the runway.

It did not. Instead the plane landed in the water in the small harbor of the island. Skidding on the rough whitecaps, Jerry would have been jolted out of his seat if he was not wearing his seatbelt. Jerry cursed, but the engines covered his foul language.

It took several minutes for the plane to be moored to the dock. The door opened and the bright tropical sun roared in along with a sharp rise in the temperature.

“Why are we here?” Carl complained.

“To do a documentary.” Jerry shook his head.

The shore crew had to put a portable gangplank to the door so the passengers could get on shore without getting wet. Carl continued to mumble foul language. A golf cart was waiting on shore once they got off the docks.

“Mr. Culhannick?” A man greeted them. A woman sat in the passenger’s seat of the cart.

“Yes.” They shook hands.

“I’m Dr. Wai and this is Dr. Trezbecca.” He smiled. “Welcome to Ebson Island.”

“This is my camera man, Carl Obleck.” Jerry let them shake hands, but Carl still did not look pleased to be here.

“What you are about to see will defy anything you have ever seen before.” Dr. Wai explained as they walked to a quonset hut after a short jaunt in the golf cart. “You will need these.”

Dr. Wai handed both of them an ID badge with their photos on the laminated card. Jerry had to wonder where they acquired the photos.

“This is Laboratory One where we incubate the genomes.” Dr. Wai ran his own badge through the scanner next to the door and then opened the heavy looking door. Inside an ultraviolet light was the only light there was. Jerry squinted as his eyes stung from the bright tropical sun to near darkness in Lab One. There were about two dozen people dressed in white lab coats checking each sample in the cool room. “It is here where the process starts.”

“Mr. Obleck, you may use your camera if you wish.” Dr. Trezbecca waved her hand over the first table where two laboratory technicians were bent over the sample. “I have a script.”

She handed Jerry a piece of paper which was hard to read in the dim lighting of the laboratory.

“Script?” He shrugged.

“Yes, we must make sure our security on this project is not compromised. Her face barely moved as she spoke.

“I guess I can’t wing it then.” He shrugged again, but everyone in earshot stopped what they were doing and looked at him as if he had just landed from another planet. Jerry did as he was instructed as Carl ran the video camera. There was a lot of technical language that he needed help with, but after a couple of takes, he was happy with his efforts. Carl scowled as they left Laboratory One.

“Can I speak freely?” He asked, putting the camera down on a table outside where the sun beat down on them.

“Yeah, sure.” Jerry felt the sun now.

“Does this place give you the creeps?” He asked, looking one way and then the next.

“How so?”

“I was filming human tissue. It just look like some random stuff in some petri dish, but I could see motion.” Carl sat at the picnic table next to his camera.

“Motion?”

“It was moving. I saw it through the lens.” Carl was shaken. Jerry had never seen him so jumpy even when they were in a war zone in Afghanistan.

“Sure. The solution is liquid.”

“No Jer, it was moving on its own. Do you want to see it?” He patted his camera.

“It’s okay.” Jerry shook Carl off.

Dr Trezbecca seemed to materialize from thin air, “Are you ready to go to Laboratory Two?”

“Lead the way, doctor.”

She began a brisk walk as Jerry glanced at Carl and he looked back at Jerry.

Unlike the previous laboratory, Laboratory Two was well lit under a large number of fluorescent lighting. There was much more activity in this place since there were twice as many technicians in white coats hovering over specimens. Instead of a small hut, Laboratory Two was a two story warehouse.

“It’s like a bee hive in here.” Carl noted as he brought the camera up.

“Do not take video until you are cleared to do so.” Dr. Trezbecca instructed him and then handed Jerry a piece of paper, “You read this when we run the video.”

“I wonder what they are trying to hide?” Carl whispered to Jerry.

“Doctor, we have pulses in both Bay One and Two.” A man wearing a lab coat reported.

“Excellent.” Dr. Trezbecca smiled for the first time, “Our results are better than I expected.”

“Is that good?” Jerry asked.

“Of course. We are preparing the next step of human evolution.” She nodded. Walking over to a table where five technicians were busy working, the doctor peered into a microscope. A smile slid across her face. “You may send these over to Laboratory Three. They are ready.”

“Very good, doctor.” A woman technician affirmed.

“Are you two ready to record history?” She asked.

“Sure, sure.” Jerry held up the piece of paper she had given him. “Carl, are you ready?”

“For what?” He mumbled. “I’m sorry, Jer, but this whole place has given me the creeps. Don’t you feel it?”

“Not really.” Jerry moved his mouth to get ready to start recording.

“I will hold this specimen.” Dr. Trezbecca replied as she picked up the small petri dish.

Jerry read the script about how in Laboratory Two, the miracle of life was being recreated. That was the word printed on the page, “recreated.” Carl nearly vomited when he read that word. Of all the words, that one word seemed to grab at him the most. In his association with Jerry Culhannick, Carl knew Jerry had a fairly large ego when it came to camera time. Together they had made over a hundred documentaries Crystal Images in which Jerry presented an unflinching presence to the camera. They had gone into war zones and reported on combat conditions. They had gone into the bowels of the earth to see some of the wonders buried in the rocks. They had traveled to over a hundred countries and all fifty states in search of interesting topics, but here Carl was getting an uneasy feeling about what they were witnessing. No one bothered to tell them what the purpose of the research was, reminding Carl of when they had explored alchemy and the person explaining the process was very secretive about some of the things he was doing.

“Shall we go to Laboratory Three?” Dr. Trezbecca asked when Jerry had finished.

“Sure, let’s get this done, shall we.” Jerry was feeling pretty good about the way things were going which made the doctor smile.

“In Lab Three, there are things you should know.” One of the technicians cornered Carl as Jerry left with the doctor.

“Like what?” Carl looked at the technician, a young Asian American man who spoke with a slight accent.

“It is where they give birth to the specimens.” He said as his eyes scanned the room.

“What do you mean give birth?” Carl asked.

“What does it sound like?” The man became spooked and left in a hurry before someone discovered him talking to the man with the camera.

He walked over to the last building in the compound with a big “III” painted in red on the side. What made him pause was the playground equipment behind a chain link fence.

“What would they need that for?” He wondered, but then he saw that some of the chains had been gnawed through in places..

Walking into the laboratory, Jerry ran to Carl excited or “jazzed” as he used to say, “Carl, you’ve got to see this.”

Jerry led him to a table where a baby lay wrapped in a blanket. Carl was startled at the baby’s face. Despite his small size, the face of the child was just about fully formed.

“Jer, this isn’t right.” He looked down at the infant in horror.

“Look at his face.” Jerry pointed to the infant in the glass casing.

“He has teeth. All of them.” Carl saw the baby open his mouth revealing real human teeth already in his mouth. “Isn’t there something wrong here.”

“It’s the next step.” Jerry shook his head, amazed.

“Is it? Is it the next step or are we looking at a mutation of what we are destined to become?” Carl felt the baby was looking at him, studying him. “I don’t like what I am seeing. I can’t believe this doesn’t bother you.”

“No. This is what we will become.” Jerry sniffed.

“Has anyone done any preliminary research? What will these babies become when they grow into adulthood?” Carl could not take his eyes off the baby in the encasement.

“The infant can speak with a vocabulary of three hundred words which increases exponentially each month.” Jerry was enthralled by what he was seeing in Laboratory Three. “These babies will reach adulthood by age four or five.”

“Does that sound right to you, does it?”

“Why not? Our grip on being at the top of the evolutionary tree has been slipping for centuries. Now we can regain our rightful place again.”

“Buddy, you are losing your grip here.” Carl looked at Jerry as if he was truly seeing him for the very first time.

One of the technicians dropped a thick cracker into the encasement. The infant grasped it and gnawed it until it had been consumed in under a minute. With teeth that sharp, it was little wonder why the playground chains had been gnawed through in places.

What would happen if one of these mutants managed to get loose in the laboratory? They could hurt or maim some of the technicians.

C’mon buddy, don’t you think it’s time for us to be on our way. We got some good stuff on film.” He grabbed Jerry by the arm, but Jerry shook him off.

“No, I want to stay here.” He shook his head, “Dr. Trezbecca promised we’d get a up close look at what these children can do.”

“I don’t want to see.”

“Why not?” Jerry was annoyed with Carl.

“Because I am afraid. I am very much afraid.” He shook.

“We are a witness to the next step. This is what we were supposed to be like,” Jerry watched as one of the technicians took the baby out of the encasement.

“I don’t want-” Carl began, but Dr. Trezbecca pointed to a small penned in area where the child had been placed.

“I want you to get this.” Dr. Trezbecca said proudly.

“Sure.” Jerry motioned for Carl to follow him.

“A lynx! Jerry, they put a lynx in the pen with the baby.” Carl could not believe what he was seeing through his lens. The wild animal circled the baby emitting a snarl and a growl. Slowly the cat moved, baring its teeth and fangs. The baby gurgled. Just then the cat jumped at the baby teeth and claws out ready to kill him.

Carl let out a yelp as the cat landed on the helpless baby. There was a cloud of dust in the entanglement. For a moment no one could see either the wild cat nor the child, but the baby was not crying out in pain. Instead the wild cat yelped and lay in the dust with a huge wound in its neck spouting an arterial wound. The lynx took a couple of gasping breaths and expired.

“Oh my God.” Carl held onto every word as he watched the lynx die.

“Did you see that, Carl? Did you see that?” Jerry could barely contain his excitement. “I can’t wait to show this to Mr.Newsome. I’ll bet he can’t believe this.”

“I’m sure he can’t.” Carl swallowed his bile. All he could see was the blood dripping from the infant’s mouth.

“Jerry, you sounded so excited about what you two saw while you were on Ebson Island.” Mr. Newsome sat at his desk with his hands folded on the desk in front of him.

“Yeah…you won’t believe your eyes.” Carl could not meet his boss’ eyes as Jerry set up the video on his computer. The video ran for less than four minutes. Mr. Newsome sat there with a smile frozen on his face. “Do you want me to play it again?”

“No thank you, Jerry, I’ve seen enough.” He sighed. Carl looked up at the suspended ceiling.

“Impressive, right?” Jerry closed the laptop.

“Yeah, that was one word for it.” Mr. Newsome shrugged.

“Go ahead and say it boss. This is a perversion, right?” Carl let some of his pent up anger salt his words.

“Perversion, right, but it is what it is.” Mr. Newsome put his hand to his double chins and pondered what he had seen for a moment. Then with a summary remark, said, “It was bound to happen after all. With the infinity of all the possible outcomes, like it or not, someone was bound to take the next step.”

Italian Sausage Charlotte

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients

Meat Mixture

1 1/2 pounds mild Italian sausage links
1 medium zucchini, sliced
8 ounces mushrooms, sliced
1 (16 ounce) jar white Alfredo pasta sauce, divided

Topping

1/2 cup milk
2 eggs
1 garlic clove, pressed
2 teaspoons Pantry Italian Seasoning Mix, divided
1/8 teaspoon salt
16 slices firm white bread
1 (14 1/2 ounce) can diced tomatoes, drained
2 tablespoons fresh Parmesan cheese, grated

Instructions

Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
Remove casing from sausage links; discard. Cut sausage into 1/2 inch pieces. Cook sausage in Stir Fry Skillet over medium heat until well browned and no longer pink. Turning with Nylon Turner as meat browns.
Meanwhile, using Ultimate Slice & Grate, slice zucchini using v shape blade. Slice mushrooms with Egg Slicer Plus. Cut red bell pepper into 1/4 inch strips.
Remove sausage from skillet; drain well on paper towels. Wipe out the skillet, and add 1 cup Alfredo sauce; bring to a boil. Stir in sausage and vegetables. Pour mixture into Oval Baker, mounding slightly in center.
In Small Batter Bowl, whisk together remaining Alfredo sauce, milk and eggs using Stainless Steel Whisk. Add garlic pressed with Garlic Press, 1 teaspoon of the Seasoning Mix and salt.
Cut crusts off the bread using Serrated Bread Knife. Dip bread into egg mixture, coating lightly; overlap bread in a circular pattern over sausage mixture, leaving center open.
Drain tomatoes in a small Colander; transfer to small Colander Bowl. Add remaining 1 teaspoon Seasoning Mix; mix with Mix ‘N Scraper. Spoon tomato mixture into opening. Using Deluxe Cheese Grater, grate cheese over top.
Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until edges of bread are deep golden brown.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Everything You’ve Missed on the Economy

Dating Crissy : a friend of my favorite co-worker in South Carolina

After I left the Navy, I got a job at a Steel Mill.

Ah, now, when I was working in the Pittsburgh Steel Mill, I was sent on numerous trips to South Carolina to assist in setting up a “branch” rolling mill there. Entire industries were relocating from the North East into the Southern states. This was one such effort.

All in all, it was an interesting time.

This was in 1981, and I have many stories from that period.

Anyways, at that time I had made friends with a few of the engineers there, and we would hang out together.

One friend was ALWAYS trying to get me hooked up with various girls. Friends. Relatives. And, of course, following his lead, I would meet the girls and ask them out. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Well, some went well, and some didn’t.

Some girls were just beautiful, others cute. Some robust, and others petite. It was a virtual smorgasbord.

Fun times for a young man in his 20’s.

Now I was learning about relationships at that time, and truthfully I was such a novice. I didn’t know shit.

But what mistakes could you make on a singular date? Right?

Well, for certain, yeah I ended up making them.

Including a scammer who wanted me to invest in his “perpetual motion invention”, and also to join his cult of “the God Way”.
Or later on when I would visit Florida and make all sorts of youngish friends, five years younger than myself. I guess that I was the grizzly old 20-something leader at that time.

But let’s not get sidetracked in all my follies. Back at that time, when I was still employed, I was out dating, and just meeting all kinds of girls.

Just for food, chatting and companionship.

Sex was a rare event.

Though I did meet up with some gals; Mary. Now that was a train-wreck. I’ll tell you what.

But, still many of the girls were using me for various reasons. Mostly for free food. Or something to gossip about in the deep South small-town gossip circles. Today, we will talk about Crissy.

She was using me to make her boyfriend jealous.

She told me up front that is why we went on the date. LOL.

And I, as a stupid fuck, agreed to it.

What was I thinking? Bad move guys!

No consequences at that time for me. But, you know it all could have gone really wrong. Don’t ever, ever mess around with another man’s girl. Don’t you know.

So, I took this gal out. We ate pizza and the entire time she was talking about how everyone was watching us, and that the gossip was starting to flow.

And that soon enough it would reach her boy friend. And then he would get so angry and start treating her better.

Uh. She was on a diet so she ate one slice. I ate the rest of the pizza. It was fine.

And that was that.

A week later I called her to check up and it seems her ploy worked and her boyfriend was fiercely possessive of her and won’t let her out of his sight. Ha ha.

So I guess that her ploy worked.

And for me… well. I just hope it all worked out for them two.

And that is all that I can say about THAT.

Today…

CHINA RESPONSE TO TARIFFS GOT AMERICANS REACTING

How serious is the Chinese military’s lack of experience?

The shape of the future of warfare has changed, and unmanned warfare will become mainstream. America’s so-called war experience is outdated or wrong.

America has not fought a comparable adversary since its founding, The war in Afghanistan and the Gulf War are asymmetric wars

Like Muhammad Ali knocking down a schoolboy, and what good does that experience do the he?

After all, Afghanistan and Iraq have no nuclear weapons, drones, advanced missiles, carrier fleets, or sixth-generation fighter jets. There are no advanced unmanned troops. But China has it all.

Chinese drones and robot dogs are already in service, and the future of total war is no longer what it was during World War II.

The most important point is that China has more production capacity than the G7 countries combined!

To take one of the simplest examples, China’s electric vehicle production in 2023 is 20 million, and this is only electric vehicles. These production lines can all be used to produce drones, robot dogs, and tanks in time of war.

You can check how many pieces of furniture in your house are made in China, which today has more industrial power than the Soviet Union and the United States combined during the Cold War.

Self-detonating robot

Aircraft carrier

DF31-AG

robot dogs

Unitree B2-W 天赋觉醒！_哔哩哔哩_bilibili

在发布量产一年后，宇树 Unitree B2-W 工业轮足，觉醒了更多极限天赋技能！请大家务必友好的使用机器人

https://www.bilibili.com/video/BV17rCGY1Ebe/?spm_id_from=333.337.search-card.all.click&vd_source=56ef3e371717ff179fe581f14ed532cf

Sixth-generation fighter

Does the U.S. military have experience fighting these weapons？

Now there is a saying on the Chinese Internet:

In the past, the U.S. military had fighter jets and artillery, while the People’s Liberation Army had a will like steel.

Now that ，the PLA also has fighter jets and artillery, Americans had better pray the US military has the same will as steel.

1950 North Korea Chosin Lake PLA soldiers

These PLA soldiers remained steadfast in their duty, never laying down their arms until their last breath.

Why are Japan lovers so mad about videos from China?

Is China preparing to go to war with the United States?

Absolutely

China is utterly unified in this. They have their red lines beyond which a US Sino conflict is simply unavoidable.

Its why they are securing their land routes, their energy security and their food security

Today the US is divided

The Hardliners want Russia & China entirely destroyed even if it’s WWIII
The Trumpists want China entirely isolated but want Russia and it’s energy resources as a friend
The RINOs want CPC destroyed but are greedy for money and want the Chinese Market and it’s access
The Democrats want to be reelected and want to stay in power and would prostitute their daughters and mothers and wives to do so.

So as a result US is not yet unified to go to war with China in their own backyard.

Lots of Democrats and RINOs have billions of investments in China to protect

Biden himself is one such Democrat despite the Rhetoric

Also US has four major power centers

Big Tech,
Military Industrial Complex,
Wall Street
Big Industry (Oil, Coal, Gas and Guns)

Of these four, consider their points of view…

Wall Street hates wars of any kind and wants China to badly avoid dumping US Debt. They also have Trillions invested in China on behalf of various funds in US
MI Complex likes Wars but not Wars against China or Russia. They like wars where they can sell maximum weapons but where victory is guaranteed. They prefer milking Ukraine conflict and targeting Iran next. A War against Russia or China is a black hole for weapons and MI Complex would simply be unable to manufacture at half the speed that is required
Big Tech doesn’t really care
Big Industry loves Wars as it means booming profits

So once again the Power Centers aren’t united in favor of a Major War.

Finally you have the PENTAGON

It’s top officials know a War with China is a nuclear one and that spells the end of the world.

So they will deescalate

So right now it’s just the HARDLINERS who are provoking China, hoping to unify everyone if China succumbs to the provocation

…

Blinken is a hardliner

China meanwhile has changed course. It’s dumping all the hardliners. Zhao Lijian is gone and replaced by a very benevolent young woman.

It’s message is it won’t succumb to provocation while trying very hard to retain an image as a Peaceful Nation which minds it’s own business.

Its why in a matter of a mere 3 years – US has been acknowledged as a Warmonger ans China as a Land that wants peace by most of the Neutral World.

…

Sadly there is a problem – UKRAINE

The Domination of Russia and the fact that all the Western Propaganda is being scoffed at by the American Citizens is worrisome

Even worse is the fact that all of the world are seeing all the weapons of NATO get torn to pieces like M777 Or HIMARS with T80s and MLRS

US desperately want to turn the attention away from Ukraine, some excuse to stop supplying weapons to Ukraine and force a ceasefire with concessions using China as a major excuse.

They must sell the China Threat to everybody to do this effectively

…

So it’s a big pigs breakfast out there

China meanwhile is clear

It doesn’t want a war but it has red lines and it knows exactly what to do and when to do.

A Sign of a Winner

China Official Refers to Americans as “Peasants”

Hal Turner World April 15, 2025

A senior Chinese official warned Tuesday that President Donald Trump’s tariffs would backfire and that soon, “those peasants in the U.S.” would “wail in front of the 5,000 years of Chinese civilization.”

The remarks are the latest Chinese repudiation of Trump’s global trade war as Beijing shifts gears from attempting to communicate with the White House to hitting back frequently and forcefully in an effort to cast the United States as an irresponsible global power.

China’s top official overseeing Hong Kong and Macao, Xia Baolong (shown above), lashed out at the U.S. during a speech on national security, in which he linked 2019 pro-democracy protests in Hong Kong with what Beijing sees as continued U.S. efforts to suppress China.

Xia called the U.S. decision to levy a tariff of 145 percent on all goods from Hong Kong, a special administrative region of China, “brutally unreasonable and extremely shameless.”

“The U.S. isn’t after our tariffs but our very survival,” he said. “The U.S. has repeatedly contained and suppressed Hong Kong … and this will eventually backfire on itself.”

Since Trump took office in January and set about remaking the global trading system, the world’s two largest economies have levied import duties on each other that are now so high they amount to a trade embargo.

China has countered Washington’s latest levies by imposing a tariff of 125 percent on all U.S. goods while Trump has maintained 145 percent taxes on all Chinese imports, with temporary exceptions for semiconductors and consumer electronics.

Is it possible for China to surpass the US in economy size? If so, when and at what rate would China’s economy grow compared to the US?

It’s a certainty that China would surpass the US in economy size.

China is already quite a bit ahead of the US in the making and creation of real things:

main qimg 23acf9d63e69176a7e450536afbfccba

However, China’s economy still lags a bit behind the US largely due to its service industry. This is partially due to the nature of the two economic models: in the US Capitalist model, you’re encouraged to charge as much as possible for your service. For example, the average litigation cost in the US is us$50000. While under the Chinese socialist model, individuals are encouraged to provide their service as cheap as possible, for the benefit of the whole society. So the same litigation fee is restricted to a flat rate of just under $7. That’s a wopping 7000x difference. It’s an extreme example but it does show that the two economies are not directly comparable by market capitalization. The Chinese service prices will naturally grow when Chinese people slowly become richer.

A good indicator for comparing the true size of the two economies, which scientists suggested is even viable for comparison across star systems, is energy usage:

The US abandoned the Philippines again

How To Go Back

Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth.… view prompt

Max Sinclair

Two years ago, I stared into the eyes of a little dead girl. She was sprawled on some highway, deep in what used to be the Midwest, her dead, fermenting eyes staring past me, and up, up, up, into the sun-bleached sky.They didn’t leave many bodies behind when they left. Didn’t want to find skeletons when they came back, I assume. Her skin was dark and leathery. There was a hole growing in her cheek. Blue tendrils came twirling out of the rotted, bony mass, with those little orange tips. I wished they were green; I miss the trees, the grass. The closest thing to nature are the dead bodies with the synthetic viruses, eating themselves towards the clouds; puny, fingernail scratches on deep blue skin.She might’ve been dead for three months, six at a stretch. The first thing I felt when I saw her was excitement. She was the closest thing I’d seen to another person in six years. My father’s body had been more pristine, less infected by the now, a perfect conservation of the then. There was only the tight, red little hole in his temple; the pool of dark, sticky blood pooling around bits of his brain, staring at me like a sick, foaming, red-furred dog. His eyes were stained red by blood, and they sat uncomfortably in their sockets, dislodged by the force of a bullet tearing it all up behind them. He was smiling, a slash of red teeth, red eyes popping. I half-expected them to flick towards me, half-expected the revolver, still lying loosely in his palm, to fire a matching shot through my own temple. I was relieved when he killed himself, as I was when I saw the dark hole in that little girl’s cheek. I took the gun, I took his shoes, I turned around and I left. As I reached the crest of the yellow hill, I looked back at him, lying like roadkill on the highway, in the dead, yellow grass, our truck lying upside-down, smoking, a few feet away. I wiped blood from my forehead and I pressed on, the sun belching like a toad white bubble of heat that burst around me periodically. There was a similar gunshot in the little girl’s calf that poked out from her purple nightgown. It was the nightgown that made me vomit. I heaved onto the tarmac. I heaved and I heaved. She was so young. The same age as me, probably, when I left my father’s corpse to rot in the fat, white sun that turned the sky grey from its heat.It happened in the night, I thought, sitting on the tarmac, staring at the little dead girl. There were faint, sun-baked faint tyre marks on the road. She had Gone, I thought. So young. She died, seething with red-hot pain, alone in the inky night, not an inkling of who she once might’ve been. The sun was rising, the sky was losing her blue. The pile of vomit to my side would begin to cook soon, like a stinking goose egg in a frying pan. I stood up. I looked at her once more, a China doll, cracked up and fading in the sun; I turned my head back to the road, the tarmac melting into a black puddle on the horizon.It had been the last wink of winter, that day. Or what would’ve been winter. My diary says so: March third. It’s almost definitely wrong- the last time I was really sure of the day, the month, the year: I was nine. The day the school caught fire and burned down. The village burned for a week; the school was first, a black plume into the purply-grey midday sky. The grass was already threadbare, yellow; the buildings were lazy, wooden shacks, standing crooked; haphazard, peeling rows like a pile of matches. It’s difficult to build, gather materials- do anything at all- when you swelter all day under a rock, or in a shack, waiting for the Midnight Hours. The village burned and then Grandma picked up Bleach on the exodus, and soon everybody was Gone, my father on his way. That day, after seeing the dead girl, I had collected enough gas and food to wait out the summer in the Caves. They were damp, dripping places if you went down far enough. It stank of rotted bodies, those who had starved or Gone, but it was cool, it was dark, it was safer than third degree burns and snarling tumours all summer long.I remember, I’d left it so late that I knew to stop driving and lie in the grass under the car- I usually passed out from the heat after an hour or so. When the sun was lower in the sky, orange and red, the sky green and pink, I poured water over myself, guzzled it through my cracked, bleeding lips. And then I drove and I drove. I’d left it so late, so dangerously late, that towards the end of the journey they started appearing in the sky. Small, black dots at first, but they got bigger. Their ships. Full of, I don’t know. Probably scientists in grey coats. Watching. Waiting for everything to die so they could start again. They’re nothing but black pebbles in the sunset to me, and they disappear in the safety of the night. Black pebbles, no windows, no movement, no noise. They’ve no exhaust fumes, no visible sign of life. They just float calmly in the sky, black beads, watching as Earth eats itself like a coyote starving in the desert, picking at its own ribcage for morsels of its fleshy stomach; a stomach long gone. That little dead girl was a premonition, I suppose. It had been a silent, dissociative half-decade of white, silent heat. Each year dripped onto my lips like the last of the water in the hip flask I dangle, now, as I speak, above my head.I should’ve been gone for the Caves days ago. I stand on the roof of a gas station. It’s midday, the sky is clear and grey. The yellow-brown plains sprawl outwards, forever on all sides; the highway cuts a black line down the middle. There’s the occasional lone ranger, a telephone post in the distance, the hollow carcass of a tree. It’s silent. So, so silent. Silence as deafening as a red sea, crashing down on my shoulders and burrowing into my dry, blistered throat. There’s blood leaking from the blisters in my cheeks; it starts to boil, slowly, etching teary burns down my chin, down my neck. I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything. I’m a pair of eyes. I forgot the Cave long ago. I’ve been waiting for this day. The last day of winter, the last wink. I hold my arms outstretched. From somewhere far away, much bluer and greener, much louder, if I squint, I can feel them burn like an old photograph on the campfire. The sensation starts to feel like rain, cold and relieving.I Bleached myself intentionally. I went to one of the rotted bodies deep in the Caves: a man. In the torchlight, his eyes were milky and half closed, his mouth slack. There was a bottle of something that had rolled away from his right hand. There were foamy remnants on his lips. He reminded me of my little brother, Geoffrey. Maybe if he had grown up in the green and blue world, then, he would have looked like that. I kissed his forehead. I began to forget not long after. It was sweet; it was like falling slowly asleep. From this nightmare. This fucking nightmare, I hear myself scream, from far away, in the blue and green. I start to turn away now, as my legs begin to give out on the roof of the gas station. I can feel Nothing holding out his hand. The blistered now is a universe away. Just before I turn, and walk down the hill, the rain pouring onto my neck, blurring my vision into a sweet, comfortable grey, expansive, eternal grey, I see that little dead girl, lying on the highway, sprawled out on the scorched Earth.I smile as I slip away; I smile at her red, unblinking eyes.

KJ Noh Exposes China’s Trade War Supremacy

Buttermilk Fried Chicken

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

Chicken

4 (4 ounce) skinless boneless chicken breast, sliced into strips
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil for frying

Blue Cheese Sauce

4 tablespoons blue cheese crumbles
1/2 cup sour cream
1 tablespoon Veggie Delight Seasoning

Instructions

Chicken

Place chicken and buttermilk in a season serve container; seal and shake to coat. Let chicken sit for at least 10 minutes.
In a 10 cup impressions bowl, mix flour and seasoning together. Gently coat chicken strips with flour mixture.
Place chicken in preheated chef series 9.5 fry pan. Cover and fry each side on Med-Hi heat for 5 minutes until done.
Serve with Blue Cheese Sauce for dipping.

Blue Cheese Sauce

In a 5 1/2 cup impressions bowl mix ingredients together with saucy silicone spatula.
Seal and refrigerate until time to serve with wings, meatballs, or vegetables.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Which World War II fighter was the best in a dogfight?

Not the P-51 Mustang, Spitfire, F-6F or Hawker Tempest. Sometimes even losers have an ace up their sleeve, which doesn’t get the recognition it deserves! The best fighter of WWII was unequivocally the Messerschmitt Me-262. Nothing else that was designed and manufactured in WWII came close to its overall abilities. Captain Eric Brown who tested captured Me 262s, described it as “a quantum leap in aeronautics”.

The Me-262 could fly 110 miles (190KM) faster than the next fastest aircraft, making it almost impossible for an enemy aircraft to get behind its tail. Allied aircraft could trump the Me-262 in instantaneous turn rate due to their lower wing loading, but they also bled energy more quickly, losing speed and altitude much faster than the Me-262 did, which is why it achieved a kill ratio of 5.4:1 in the ending stages of WWII under adverse combat conditions, compared to 2:1 for the P-51 Mustang and 1:1 for the P-47.

main qimg 0607c8effd04df847515070b638f46a4

Major Walter Nowotny, a celebrated German pilot who was commanding an Me-262 unit had to intercept an Allied attack which, according to him, consisted of more than 300 B-24 bombers, escorted by hundreds of P-47s. Nowotny performed that mission with only 11 Me-262 in airworthy condition.

Only 200 or so Me-262 were deployed for combat out of the 1,430 that were produced. Despite overwhelming odds, poor training and complete Allied domination of German skies, it was able to amass 542 kills against 100 losses. When the Me-262s became operational, American fighter pilots kept them busy in dogfights, which prevented most of the jets from attacking the bombers. As a result, many of the Me-262 kills consisted of P-51 Mustangs and P-47 Thunderbolts. A great majority of Me-262 were destroyed by Allied aircraft during takeoff and landing. Many were destroyed on the ground where they were parked due to lack of fuel, parts or qualified pilots. The Me-262 engines required careful handling, and getting behind the Allied bombers required throttling down considerably to target the B-17 bombers. They ran the risk of a P-51 getting behind their tail.

The Me-262 engineering concepts were so revolutionary that it literally trashed four decades of piston aircraft design and engineering technologies. It was the world’s first fighter aircraft with swept wings, featuring a sweep of 18.5 degrees. Its 30 mm cannons were also more powerful than most other aircraft. The aircraft had full span automatic leading-edge slats which helped increase the overall lift by as much as 35% in tight turns and at low speeds, giving it a decent turn rate.

The Me-262 wasn’t perfect. It had a long list of weaknesses and teething problems that is generally the case with new technologies. The engines were slow to spool up, had a short life (15–20 flight hours) due to shortage of high temperature metals and it could flame out during rapid throttle changes and aggressive maneuvering. After the war ended, the captured aircraft were studied, flight tested and its strengths were copied by all major Allied powers. The Me-262 influenced the designs of production aircraft such as the North American F-86 Sabre, MiG-15, and Boeing B-47 Stratojet and ushered in the jet age.

My Girlfriend Dumped Me Without Any Real Explanation, How Do I Become The Guy That NEVER Happens To?

How did Chinese tea culture influence Russian tea traditions throughout history?

Tea first entered Russia through Central Asia as early as the 9th to 10th centuries, where it began to create a diverse tea culture. By the 17th century, tea was officially introduced to the Russian Tsardom when a Russian ambassador brought tea as a gift from the Mongol Khan.

In 1679, Russia established a contract for the regular supply of dry tea from China, leading to the formation of tea caravans that traveled from China to Moscow along the Great Tea Road, a part of the Silk Road.

For nearly a millennium, Russians primarily consumed Chinese tea, which varied by region and social class. Popular types included Pu-erh for travelers and military men, and green tea (Mao Feng) for the nobility.

Initially, tea was regarded as an elite drink and was often prescribed by doctors for various ailments, reflecting its medicinal roots in Chinese culture.

The Russian tradition of tea drinking evolved to become a social ritual, emphasizing hospitality and conversation rather than the ceremonial aspects found in Chinese tea culture. As noted by curator Olga Yurkina, “In Russia, tea is an excuse for a long conversation”.

The samovar, a unique Russian tea utensil, was inspired by Mongol kettles and became central to Russian tea culture. It allows for the brewing of concentrated tea (zavarka) that can be diluted with hot water, a practice that reflects the communal aspect of tea drinking.

Russian tea is typically served with a variety of foods, including sweetbreads, pastries, and fruit preserves, which enhances the social experience of tea drinking.

Tea gatherings have been immortalized in Russian literature, symbolizing family and community, further embedding tea into the cultural fabric of Russia.

The influence of Chinese tea culture on Russian traditions is evident in the types of tea consumed, the methods of preparation, and the social customs surrounding tea drinking. Over centuries, these practices have evolved uniquely within the Russian context, creating a rich tea culture that honors its Chinese origins while developing its distinct identity.

Lost in a Dark Place

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story set in a world of darkness where light is suddenly discovered.… view prompt

Patrick Huber

A chaotic symphony of light and sound pop and burst until all that remains is silence and darknessYou wake up sitting in the pilots seat of a craft pod. Your perspective is limited and you hear your breathing which means you have a helmet covering your head and face. You are in a flight suit of some sort designed for distant off world travel. So far you are unable to see beyond your mask, but a blinking light brings your attention to an instrument panel just at arms length. Most of instruments are broken save for the one that blinks to let you know everything else is broken. Attempting to ground yourself, you find that you have no recollection of the events that brought you here.From what you can see out the window is not much. Your world is enveloped in darkness. The terrain looks flat but you are unable to see much more than a few yards from the ship. You open the hatch and get better view of this strange world.Without proper readings of where you are, you venture to keep your suit on until you can know if the air is breathable. Your suit can hold enough oxygen for up to 18 hours without any extreme strengths of physical exertion. Stepping foot on the ground you notice gravity appears to be similar to earth. You get first good look at the sky. Without knowing the day/night cycle you are unsure how to evaluate what you’re looking at. The sky appears to be a dark amethyst color with streaks of indigo haphazardly brushed across it. They act like clouds high up in the sky, each hiding a glowing blue moon behind it.Your take quick stock of your situation. The life boat you crashed land was a one tripper and the crash did away with any hopes of attempts at a second. Your suit appears relatively untouched from the crash and in good working order. There is a wrist band with a readout for the oxygen supply. Other than that you have your legs and your wits. With no better alternative you decide to walk away from the lifeboat.Looking over a horizon to the left, you gaze at what could pass as storms cloud in the distance. A thick layer of dark purple hangs between the orange sand and the sky. You see the clouds roll and bubble with momentum. To the right looks clear, so you go right. You do not know how long you may have before a storms hits or what that would look like here but you attempt to put some haste in your step.No destination other than survival. A purposeful walk turns to a jog which briefly jumps to a run but slows back down to a brisk walk. The weight of the suit and limited oxygen put a low ceiling on how fast you can travel. You decide a steady pace is best.You have no sense of time or how far you’ve traveled. You glance behind you every so often to check on the storm which appears to have stalled at least for now. You could measure your distance from the pod but you lost sight of it and your only point of direction a while ago.NO STAY WITH ME!A voice thundering across the surface of the planet. The vibrations knock you to your feet. You’re momentarily paralyzed by this new mystery.STAY WITH ME!The voice says again and like before the world shook.The ground stabilizes and your fear subsides. Or at least it intensifies enough to get you back to your feet and moving again. You add fearful determination into your walk with an intent of fleeing and hiding. But with nothing to see other than a dark sky and burnt orange sand you are once again fleeing with no destination.Deep on the horizon straight head a small flash of what could be lighting popped. Unsure of the meaning of what you saw, it is a promise of something other than darkness perhaps so you continue toward it. You believe you make out a rise in elevation in the distance. Could be mountains or perhaps unnatural mounds signaling life. Either way you head towards it. The mounds gradually grow in height and you can be pretty certain they are natural mountains. This brings a glimmer of hope to your otherwise bleak situation. The change of terrain is breath of fresh air so to speak until ground elevation drops off and you find yourself on the precipice of a deep canyon. Hesitation brings you to look around for other options.The storm still intensifies behind you, the layer of bubbling blackness is twice as large as before and growing faster. With no alternative you find a gentle enough slope for you to slide down to a lower ledge. It’s about 8 feet or so down, you slide down with little trouble. You see that your path to the bottom is a much more of the same. A series of small rock outcrops and ledges a few feet or so down that allows you to get to the bottom.Once at the bottom of the canyon your world view becomes much narrower. Your perception is now framed by the dark 60 foot walls that could not be more than 20 or so feet apart. You stay on the move. As you hustle through a maze of dark black rock, the storm has caught up with you and there is no more color to the sky. Black clouds spill over the sides of the canyons, cascading down the rock like water down a mountainside. And just like water it continues to flow in your direction. You pick up speed. But the rush of black most catches up with you. It builds around your ankles and yet you move with ease as there is little or no reaction.You continue through the canyon as the clouds are up past your knees. You lose notice of any color in the sky, but rather different contrasts of darkness. You are aware of no light source but still you are able to see your path through this colorless void.The canyon walls are narrowing and the mist is high up around your waist. There is an unmistakeable mass to it now. You feel resistance in your movement. The cloud is so dense you cannot see below the surface. The density as created a pressure and it restricts your movement. It feels as if you are walking through a storm cloud with wind crashing at you from every direction. You struggle to keep moving but you know you must. If anything because the alternative is to quit and die and you don’t quit eve if it means death. Your brain starts to process what it sees in front of you. You’ve reached the end of canyon and a 100 foot wall is ahead of you.The cloud is nearly up your chest, you have to get out of this. As you approach the wall you a see a small crack about 8ft tall and maybe 18 inches wide. You stick the face shield of your helmet into the crack to see what’s behind it. Like everything else it’s dark, but you sense depth in the darkness and from the cloud that has seeped in the ground level stays constant at least for a while.NO! NO! DON’T GO! STAY WITH ME!A booming voice echoed through the walls of the canyon. Sonic booms explode in the totality of the atmosphere disrupting the rocky terrain. Large rocks crumble down from the walls disappearing in the surface level clouds. You cling to the wall, not wanting to get sucked under the surface.You have to get of there.You attempt to escape through the crack but your helmet and your suit make you too wide. You desperately try to force metal and plastic through rock but it won’t budge. A tsunami of wind builds and comes rushing through canyon. The force of dense air presses you against the wall. Your world is enveloped by swirling black wind. Your panic pushes you to act desperately and with little thought to possible consequences.You take a deep breath and remove your helmet and try to squeeze through. Still nothing, so you quickly strip off your suit. Wearing nothing but a monotone under base layer you take your first breath of alien air and are relieved to not immediately die. It could be oxygen but for now it’s not poison.

The narrow crack blocks most of the wind but forces you to side step most of the way. With only the side walls to guide you, you press on. Without the filter from the helmet visor you see that the world takes on a dark bluish tone. Your arms spreading farther alert tell you the gap is widening. The ground slopes so much so that you lose your balance and begin to slide. A slide forms to a roll as you travel down a hill before coming to a tumble at the bottom. You roll to your back and look up. Large spikes of black rock with dim blue glow cover the ceiling hanging down at varied length. You sit up to see the ground is not much different with opposing spikes stretching up from the ground. You’re up on your feet, feeling little effects from the fall. Unsure of where to move next you stay frozen.

A low inaudible humming voice echoes through cave before a flash of light blinds you. The brightness subsides and the cave is alive with electricity, arcing from point to point in a concerted ballet. You are able to see the cave now in its full wonder. The ceiling must be 20 feet high and the expanse looks infinite. Most interesting is a reflection you notice from a large mass of black water. You run to edge and it is indeed a lake of blackness. You bend down and put your hand in it. It’s as dark and souless as oil but with the touch of water. You stand once again at the precipice of a decision with no clear motivation. The electricity has died down so you are back to a muted blue darkness. You see no end to this lake so it could stretch on forever. You step into it to check the depth. You look back away from the shore and see the hole you fell about 8 feet off the ground and the wall, about 50 yards from the shore, marking this end of the cave.

You look around for answers. There’s always something. You venture farther from the shore but a force pulls you back. You find yourself heading back to the lake.

Again the low humming voice throughout the cave and the flash of light. It knocks you into the water before giving way to the electric current dance above.

A rhythmic pounding, weak but noticeable, emerges. It causes the spikes to hum and reverberate.

You get up and are immediately taken back by a tall cyclone of light at the back wall of the cave, stretching from ground to ceiling.

You walk towards it and feel warmth immediately. It’s the first time since you woke up that you have noticed temperature. It never occurred to you if it was hot or cold. But now as you step closer to this light, arms of warmth reach out to pull you closer.

A small black wave rushes up from the lake and swirl around your feet before reseding back. You take an another step toward the light and again a black wave comes in this time up to your knees and you feel the pull of current as the water recedes.

You move closer to the swirling mass of white illumination and are hit by another wave that knocks you to the ground and this time the current drags you back a few feet. You jump to your feet and sprint toward the light. Another crash from behind and you fall face forward down into blackness.

The current has you, it pulls you under the black water. You tumble and roll around trying to get a sense of your direction. The wave crashes back on land. Your up and sprinting hard now toward the light. You dare to look back amd catch a tidal wave building and rushing up quick.

The brightness begins to hurt your eyes and you squint but still run. You are hypnotized but the warmth as it grabs hold of you. You feel drops of water falling as you know the wave is about crash down. You push forward with everything you have left and leap forward just as the wave crashes behind you. The intensity of the wave pushes you forward into the cyclone and your world goes to white.

*****

“I have a pulse” one EMT alerts another.

“Ok she’s stable. Let’s load her up.”

It’s early morning, the sun has broken free from the horizon. Last of the night, fighting a losing battle with the sun, paint an ombré of black to blue to yellow in the sky. The virgin suns rays reflect off the fresh dusting of snow, illuminating the world.

The two EMTs secure the woman to the gurney and exit a suburban home towards a waiting ambulance.

A man, early 40s runs along side the gurney, he’s wearing sweatpants, t-shirt, and slippers, he’s holding her hand. She’s loaded up, the doors are closed, and the ambulance drives off. The man walks back over to the sidewalk and bends down to embrace two small children their eyes red and swollen, their cheeks wet with tears.

“Is Mommy going to be ok” a young girl of 8 asks her dad.

“Mommy’s going to be ok, she got lost in a dark place but she found the light again” he tells them.

The flashes of red and blue fade on their faces as the ambulance gains distance from them. The family watches as their mother heads off toward the rising sun of a new day.

Cool Comix

As a prison inmate, what was the stupidest or most ridiculous thing that you saw someone doing time for?

I didn’t see this personally, but the story stuck with me forever. This one dude noticed the day room door was unlocked when it was closed, so he went in and tried to walk of with one of the TVs, walking our a CO looked at him and said “ ‘the fuck you doing?” and dude dropped the tv and ran. Ran in a locked down hallway with COs and bars and no way out, but dude kept runnin, circles around the wall looking for a way out, COs not bothering just waiting for him to tire himself out, the other inmates already on knees heads behind back just laughing their ass off. Dude gets tired, they tackle/cuff him and the first CO asked “What the hell is wrong with you, we caught you clear, you should have put hand up and try not to get hurt” Dude said “Ive ran from cops all my life, old habits die hard”

What is a typical day like for a typical American?

I wake up, say a quick morning prayer, salute the flag, and read my Bible for awhile as I clean my AR-15. Then, I crack six eggs on the griddle and cook them sunny side up and, while the eggs are sizzling, I drop 12 strips of bacon on there, too.

I brew myself some coffee and take it without sugar, milk, or creamer, just completely black, unlike the sissy, limp-wristed libruls and their Starbucks “coffees”

After breakfast, I get dressed for the day. I wear my favorite shirt, “I’m with stupid”, and Levi’s jeans. I also wear steel toed work boots even though I don’t work in a place that requires them. I jump in my 120,000 dollar pickup truck with a Cummins diesel, coal-rolling engine, that I never haul things in, to drive to my non-construction job and Wal-Mart.

And as I roll coal, I say, “Take that, Greta Thunberg! You can’t tell ME what to do!”

While I’m driving to Wal-Mart or work, I listen to far-right conspiracy radio shows and get angry all over again that Obama won. But I can’t get too deep into the show because there’s a mass shooting happening on basically every block, everyday! Gotta keep my head on a swivel.

I bob and weave as rounds whiz by my truck. I even return fire with my fully-automatic AR-15 with the shoulder thing that goes up, and 25,000 round clips. Then, one of the thugs claps me with his 9mm HiPoint.

You’ve heard what our President (Biden) has said about 9mm! It blows your lungs out! So I drive to a for-profit, corporate-run hospital that is completely unregulated and has every politician on their payroll, to get my right lung back where it belongs.

And they fix me right up, as always, and charge me 82 quintillion, 644 quadrillion, 144 trillion, 982 billion, 832 million, 700 thousand, 936 dollars and 14 cents. They offer me a COVID shot, which I decline because I’m a selfish American who only thinks about myself, and doesn’t trust big pharma.

Then, I immediately file for medical bankruptcy because I pay my health insurance company to not pay. After that, if I have work, I report to work quickly, because I’m already on my second write-up for being late and don’t want a third, or else I’m fired and I’ll have to find another job that pays a competitive $9.75/hr.

After work, I come home and dust the large American flag hanging on the wall of my studio apartment owned by an unregulated, unhinged corporate landlord that charges me 7,800 dollars a month. Then, I order Dominoes Pizza for dinner, and, when the pizza comes, I watch Fox News and drink a Dr. Pepper until it’s time for bed.

On a non-workday (which is only one day a week because I work 6, 15’s) I go to Wal-Mart and get the essentials: Speed Stick, Ammo, and Keystone Light. Sometimes, I flirt with the rather heavy set cashier, Roxanne. She goes along with it up until after the card machine forces me to add a 26% tip, then, once I tip her for doing her job, she tells me to have a nice day and hurry up and bag my own stuff.

She likes me, she’s just too shy to admit it. 😌

After Wal-Mart, I sometimes like to swing by Larry’s Arsenal to pick up some hand grenades (which I like to drunkenly toss into a open field for fun) or windowshop a FGM-148 Javelin, but they’re too pricey at the moment.

Then, I usually find myself driving by the local 4-year, for-profit university. I point and laugh at the kids going 640,000 dollars in debt for a degree in central Asian literature and from there I go back home, go on social media and tell Europeans to keep their stupid European opinions to their stupid European selves, and set off an M-1000 firework.

‘Merica.

China Doesn’t Need America: China WON the Trade War in ONE WEEK—Trump’s EPIC Collapse!

Easy Chicken Fajitas

Yield: 4 servings

Ingredients

1 medium red bell pepper
1 medium green bell pepper
1 large onion
1 plum tomato
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
1 (1 to 1.25 ounce) package fajita seasoning mix
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 small lime, cut in half
8 (7 to 8 inch) flour tortillas, warmed
Optional toppings: salsa, shredded cheese, guacamole, sliced pitted ripe olives and sour cream

Instructions

Cut bell peppers into 1/2 inch strips. Cut onion and tomato into 1/4 inch wedges. Set vegetables aside.
Cut chicken into 1/4 inch strips. Combine chicken and seasoning mix in small bowl; toss to coat and set aside.
Heat Grill Pan over medium-high heat. Lightly spray pan with vegetable oil using Kitchen Spritzer. Add bell peppers and onion; cook for 3 minutes without stirring.
Stir and cook an additional 3 minutes or until vegetables are crisp-tender. Remove vegetables from pan; set aside.
Spray pan again with vegetable oil. Add chicken; cook for 2 to 3 minutes without stirring.
Add garlic. Stir and cook for 3-4 minutes or until chicken is no longer pink.
Add reserved vegetable mixture and tomato to pan. Squeeze lime over chicken mixture. Cook for 1 minute or until heated through; stir.
To serve, spoon a portion of the chicken and vegetable mixture in center of each tortilla. Top with desired toppings, if desired.

Nutrition

per serving: (2 fajitas): Cal: 380, TFat 8g, Sat; Fat .5g, Chol: 65mg, Carbohydrate 44g, Protein 33g, Sodium 860mg, Fiber 2g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

What is it like to live in Finland, the happiest country in the world?

Horrible, absolutely horrible.

Please don’t move here, there are already five million people living in this craphole in insufferable misery, more than enough if you ask my modest opinion. If you want to come as a tourist and want bring us some money for pity, you are more than wellcome, though.

And the happiest country in the world! What an absolute load of nonsense! If you believe those “researches”, please contact me: I have a bridge that I want to sell for just few thousand euros! It’s a bargain! And it’s in Finland, the happiest country in the world!

Finnish women

Finnish brands

Finnish cousine

Finnish urban landscapes

Finnish values (and fashion sense)

Finnish fashion sense (and sense of humour)

More recent finnish architecture (“Nordic Living”).

Finnish opposition politics

Finnish president (see how his sportswatch matches with the necktie!)

Antony J. Blinken, the U.S. secretary of state, said Ukraine’s campaign in the Kursk region will play a critical role in any peace talks with Russia. What do you think of that?

If that is the case then there won’t be any peace talks. Russia is winning this war and continues to advance along the entire line of contact. Zelensky has admitted that there is no way for Ukraine to recover the lost territories through military means. So there is no pressure on Russia to hold peace negotiations now. But for Ukraine, it is urgent to hold peace negotiations because they are losing territory everyday in eastern Ukraine, while their advance in Kursk has been stopped by Russia. In fact, Russia has recovered about half of the Kursk territory that Ukraine took.

Russia is not under pressure to clear Kursk from the Ukraine soldiers. This is something that they will put focus on after taking all of Donetsk and Luhansk. For the mean time, it is to their benefit to keep some of the Ukrainian troops in Kursk, away from the line of contact in eastern Ukraine. So, for example, Russia can continue to kill a few hundred Ukraine soldiers per day in Kursk, forcing Ukraine to send even more troops away from Donetsk and Luhansk to Kursk, thereby making it easier for Russia to advance in Donetsk and Luhansk.

Trump’s threat to send more weapons to Ukraine if Russia refuses to negotiate will probably be ignored by Russia, because all along the US has been sending hundreds of billions of dollars worth of weapons to Ukraine but Ukraine keeps losing. Those new weapons will not make a difference.

Besides, Ukraine is short of troops. The weapons need troops to use them.

“Hollywood Has RUINED The U.S. Military!” – Col. Douglas Macgregor

China’s Week, Jan 12, 2025

Godfree Roberts

Science & Technology

Unitree, whose robots hold the Guinness sprinting record, just released an open-source full-body data set that lets robots dance.

The JinDou 400 engine flies Beijing-New York in 2 hours at 3,100 mph (5,000 km/h), at 66,000 feet (12 miles). 12” diameter x 10’ long, it produces 880 lb of thrust without compressors or turbines.

AECC ignited its 600-kg thrust-class high-end turbofan engine after 8 months development. It will power 1.5 to 4-ton UAVs.

Yarlung Zangbo/Brahmaputra Super Dam will capture three times the hydroelectric power of the Three Gorges Dam.

Will Bluetooth alternative, Star Flash, take over consumer electronics? It supports multiple simultaneous connections, low power, and streams lossless stereo audio.

Manufacturers delivered 3.17 million civilian drones last year, and 220,000 citizens have drone piloting licenses.

Record satellite-to-ground laser communications 10x faster, 100 Gb/s. For 6G, ultra hi-res sensing and next-gen satellite positioning.

CR450 train prototype hits 450 km/h will have 400 km/h operating speed, stabler, shorter braking, +22% energy-efficient, 10% lighter, quiet cabin.

910 new drugs make China the #2 pharmaceutical market, and its drug development pipeline of 5,380 drugs rivals America’s 5397. China’s biopharma market has reached $3.3 billion with a CAGR of 13.8%.

A Palbociclib breast cancer tablets that costs $2 in China costs $227 in the USA, 100 times more.

Startup NeuroXess lets brain-damaged patients turn thoughts into speech in real time, and remotely control a robot arm using thoughts alone.

World’s first 3rd-generation nuclear reactor starts powering 6 million homes.

Trade & Economy

China Rail handled a record 194,000 cargo trains daily, transporting 350 million metric tons of cargo last month, up 5.5% YoY.

The railway network handled a record 4.08 billion passenger trips in 2024, up 10.8% YoY. Air trips also hit a record 730 million in 2024, an 18% increase.

Foreign brands accounted for 64% of car sales in 2020. In 2024 it was 35%. EV sales will take over the Chinese car market, collapsing ICEV and foreign brand sales.

Temu tops US iOS app downloads for second year running, Tiktok ranks 3rd.

Huawei beats Apple, dominates global smartwatch market.

Microsoft’s Brad Smith: the US must hurry to remain competitive with Huawei in AI–or face another defeat as with 5G.

The one-billionth 5G mobile subscriber signed up in November, accounting for 56% of the country’s 1.79 billion mobile users.

China has completed its national ‘high-speed rail for computers,’ an 8,080-mile, super-fast computer network with delays under 20 ms. and 3cm. location accuracy.

There are 4.5 million firms in core sectors of China’s digital economy.

Booming phone-friendly mini-dramas will earn $7 billion in 2024.

SMIC cut 28nm node wafer price from $2500 to $1500, pressuring foreign fabs. UMC’s 28nm fab utilization fell from 85% last year to 68% in 2024.

Yiwu (pop. 2 million) produced 80% of the world’s Christmas decorations, worth $70 billion, for 2 billion people in 160 countries.

Hong Kong-Zhuhai-Macao Bridge saw a record 27 million trips in 2024.

Chinese dollar bonds sold in Riyadh safer than 10-year US Treasuries. Chinese RMB bonds appreciated 9% in 2024.

China’s Lithium reserves have increased from 6% to 16.5% of the global total, lifting it from sixth to second place in the world rankings.

Society

The retirement age for men will rise from 60 to 63 over 15 years, for women will be raised from 55 to 58, and women blue-collar workers will rise from 50 to 55.

Has the fourth wave of scientist returnees arrived?

Surviving in Cashless China 2025: 10 apps to make your life easier.

Environment

370 MkW of renewables–83% of new capacity–and only 40 MkW of coal power installed last year. Renewables still insufficient and unstable.

The Yarlung/Brahmaputra mega-dam will generate 3% of China’s total power (300 TWh), and cost $137B. At 8¢/kWh, it will earn $22B pa for a 16% ROI.

Fengning Pumped Storage Hydropower Plant, the world’s largest, stores 3.6 MkW, generates 6.6 BkWh of electricity annually.

Only China is close to matching a high energy consumption growth entirely with clean energy.* Coal-fired emissions rose 1%, showing it’s close to solving the puzzle.

Governance

In 2024, Xi visited 10 provinces, autonomous regions, municipalities and the Macao Special Administrative Region, made four visits abroad.

Judicial system is integrating AI: case filing, document drafting, hearings, reviews, reducing document preparation time so judges resolve 50% more cases monthly.

The CCDI investigated 56 vice-ministers or above in 2024, up from 45 in 2023.

Unlike Western systems, China’s socialist welfare system invests in enhancing everyone’s income-earning capacity. The welfare system differs from social charity.

Bangladesh’s BRI-financed, Chinese built, 170 km Padma Bridge railway is fully operational, reducing Dhaka – Jesol travel from 10 hours to 3.

Geopolitics

Indictment Debunks China Hacking Claim after main-stream media spread an anti-Chinese propaganda campaign launched by U.S. national security sources.

9 New BRICS Partners: Belarus, Bolivia, Indonesia, Kazakhstan, Thailand, Cuba, Uganda, Malaysia, and Uzbekistan. Pending: Algeria, Indonesia, Nigeria, Turkiye.

2021 Gina Raimondo: “U.S. needs to work with Europe to slow China’s innovation rate”.

2024 Gina Raimondo: “Holding Back China in Chips Race Is a Fool’s Errand”.

NYT: “China will be selling affordable EVs and renewable energy equipment around the globe while the US becomes the new Cuba—where you visit to see old gas-guzzling cars that you drive yourself.”

New York Times, 1976: Mao Tse‐tung, who began as an obscure peasant, died one of history’s great revolutionary figures. In Chinese terms, he ranked with the first Emperor who unified China in 200 B.C.

Chinese scientist cleared of charges of ‘secret’ China ties sues university after 5 years in jail.

Defense

The J-36, above, beats the B-21 due to greater thrust from its 3 engines, interior space…

Mexican-Style Scrambled Eggs

Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

6 (6 to 7 inch) flour tortillas
4 ounces bulk spicy pork sausage
8 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
Optional toppings: salsa, shredded Mexican cheese blend, diced avocados, sliced green onions and sour cream

Instructions

Heat Large (10 inch) Skillet over medium heat until hot. Place one flour tortilla in heated Skillet. Warm tortilla 10 seconds; turn tortilla over with Nylon Turner and warm an additional 10 seconds. Remove from Skillet; set aside. Repeat with remaining tortillas, stacking tortillas one on top of another. Keep warm.
Heat Skillet over medium heat until hot. Cook sausage 6 to 8 minutes or until sausage is no longer pink, breaking sausage into crumbles using Nylon Spoon. Drain if necessary.
Meanwhile, in Small Batter Bowl, whisk together eggs and salt using Stainless Steel Whisk. Add eggs to sausage in Skillet. Cook and stir just until eggs are set.
For each tortilla, spoon about 1/2 cup egg mixture down center of tortilla. Top with desired toppings. Fold sides of tortilla over eggs.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 220, Total Fat 12g, Sodium 700mg, Fiber 1g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Mystery of the Haunted Outhouse

Ah, dear reader, welcome back! Today’s tale is one of intrigue, egos, and, dare I say, toilet humor. Yes, even a detective as sophisticated as myself occasionally finds himself embroiled in mysteries of a less-than-glamorous nature. But fear not—this story is filled with the usual laughs, hijinks, and, of course, a moral at the end. And, for the first time, we shall be joined by a new trio: Wilma, Gladys, and Simone, three geese whose egos are as inflated as their downy feathers. Prepare yourself for the hilariously absurd tale of The Mystery of the Haunted Outhouse.

The Farm’s Newest Problem

It all began on a bright and sunny morning, just like any other. I was reclining on the porch, enjoying a well-earned moment of peace, when I heard the unmistakable sound of panic coming from the back of the farmhouse.

“Haunted! Oh, it’s haunted!” Doris the hen squawked.
“Haunted! What if it’s a ghost?!” Harriet clucked.
“A ghost! Oh no, I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.
“Bear it! Oh, it’s dreadful!” Doris wailed.

“Ladies,” I said, leaping down from the porch and walking over with an air of authority, “what is all this fuss about?”

“It’s the outhouse!” Doris cried. “Strange noises! Oh, dreadful noises!”
“Noises! And creaks!” Harriet added.
“And whispers! Oh, I’m sure it’s haunted!” Lillian clucked.

“The outhouse?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the old one behind the farmhouse? The one the farmer rarely uses anymore?”

“Yes! That one!” Doris said, flapping her wings. “It’s cursed, I tell you!”

“Cursed? Or perhaps just in need of a proper investigation,” I said, already intrigued. “Don’t worry, ladies—I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Oh, the bottom of it!” Doris squawked.
“Bottom! But what if it’s dangerous?” Harriet clucked.
“Dangerous! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian said.

Before I could respond, a loud, honking voice interrupted us.

“Step aside, Whiskerton,” said Wilma, the largest and most pompous of the farm’s geese. “This case requires the sharp intellect of a goose.”

“And not just any goose,” added Gladys, smoothing her feathers. “It requires us—Wilma, Gladys, and Simone—the brightest minds on this farm.”

“Brightest and most talented,” Simone chimed in, striking a dramatic pose. “Leave the outhouse mystery to us. We’ll have it solved in no time.”

I sighed. “Ladies, with all due respect, this is a matter of logic and deduction. I—Sir Whiskerton—am the farm’s detective.”

“Oh, a detective! How quaint,” Wilma said, rolling her eyes. “But this is a job for true brilliance. Right, Gladys?”

“Absolutely,” Gladys agreed, puffing out her chest. “Whiskerton, you may observe us if you wish, but stay out of the way.”

“Stay out of the way!” Simone echoed dramatically.

“Fine,” I said, my tail flicking with irritation. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The Investigation Begins

The geese and I (along with the ever-curious Rufus, Porkchop, and, of course, the hens) made our way to the old outhouse. It was a rickety thing, leaning slightly to one side, with peeling paint and a creaky door that swung ominously in the wind.

“Behold!” Wilma declared, pointing a wing at the outhouse. “A scene of mystery! A stage for our brilliance!”

“Stage for brilliance!” Simone echoed, striking another pose.

“It’s just an outhouse,” Rufus muttered, munching on a carrot he’d stolen from the garden. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal,” Gladys said, glaring at Rufus, “is that it’s haunted. And we, the geese, shall uncover the truth.”

“Quiet!” Wilma commanded. “We must investigate. Gladys, Simone—flank the sides. I’ll take the lead.”

The three geese marched forward like generals leading an army, honking orders to one another as they circled the outhouse.

The Geese’s Brilliant (or Not-So-Brilliant) Theories

“Well,” Wilma said after a few minutes of honking and pacing, “it’s clearly the work of a ghost.”

“A ghost!” Simone gasped. “The restless spirit of a farm animal, no doubt.”

“Or perhaps,” Gladys added, “it’s a portal to another dimension. A wormhole of sorts.”

“A wormhole?” I said, my whiskers twitching with amusement. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Gladys replied, preening her feathers. “Only a goose as intelligent as I could identify such phenomena.”

“Or,” Rufus said, rolling his eyes, “maybe it’s just the wind.”

“Wind? How pedestrian,” Simone scoffed.

“Enough!” Wilma honked. “We must take action. Gladys, Simone, prepare the—”

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud BANG came from the outhouse, followed by a low, creaking groan. Everyone froze.

“Did you hear that?!” Doris squawked.
“Hear that?! Oh, it’s definitely haunted!” Harriet cried.
“Haunted! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian screeched.

“Everyone, stay calm,” I said, stepping forward. “It’s time for a proper investigation.”

Sir Whiskerton Solves the Mystery

I approached the outhouse, my ears perked and my tail flicking. Slowly, I pushed the creaky door open to reveal… nothing. The outhouse was empty, save for a few cobwebs and a suspicious pile of hay in the corner.

“Hmph,” Wilma said, peering over my shoulder. “See? Nothing. It’s a ghost.”

“Or a wormhole,” Gladys added.

“Or…” I said, sniffing the air, “a raccoon.”

“A raccoon?!” everyone exclaimed.

At that moment, the pile of hay shifted, and out popped a very startled raccoon. It chittered angrily, clearly annoyed at having its nap interrupted, and darted out of the outhouse, disappearing into the bushes.

“A raccoon!” Doris squawked.
“Raccoon! Oh, how dreadful!” Harriet clucked.
“Dreadful! But also cute!” Lillian said.
“Oh, so cute!” Doris echoed.

“Well,” Wilma said, clearing her throat. “Obviously, we knew it was a raccoon all along.”

“Obviously,” Gladys agreed. “We were simply testing you.”

“Testing you! And you passed!” Simone added with a dramatic flourish.

I sighed. “Of course you were.”

The Moral of the Story

With the mystery solved, the farm returned to its usual peace (or as peaceful as it can be with geese and hens squawking constantly). The geese, though insufferable, had provided plenty of laughs, and even I had to admit that their over-the-top antics added a certain… charm to the day.

The moral, dear reader, is this: sometimes, even the biggest egos can hide a good heart. And while it’s important to let others take the spotlight now and then, there’s no substitute for a keen nose, sharp ears, and a bit of common sense.

The End.

“4Chan” Exposed as Israeli Mossad Honeypot/Propaganda/Incitement Site

Hal Turner World April 15, 2025

Sometimes Intelligence Agencies get caught doing things in public — designed to fool the public — and US Intel and the Israeli Mossad just got caught. The “controversial” website 4Chan turns out to be run by US Feds and Israeli Mossad. They originated the ENTIRE “Q” nonsense! It is now exposed that ALL of “Q” was a deliberate Intel operation!

Last night, it was revealed that the website “4Chan” got hacked. Apparently, the very LAST posting from the entire world, asking what the heck was going on with the site, was this one:

Then came the announcement that the Hackers had done their thing:

It turned out they were using a VERY OLD and outdated version of PHP (10 years old) to run with their server software, and that version of PHP had lots of security vulnerabilities.

4chan was breached by “Soyjak Party” operatives who exploited outdated PHP code to access backend systems, leaking site source files and exposing moderator emails — some tied to .edu and .gov domains. The Hackers got EVERYTHIING – the entire database!

Geolocation stats are leaked.

Leaked post data revealed Israel as the dominant source of /pol/ activity since 2014.

Almost all posts on 4chan were Israeli intelligence contractors pretending to be USA.

Mossad has been running an absolute massive propaganda campaign on the American internet.

Despite being around 0.12% of the world’s population, Israel accounted for … almost 50% of all 4chan posts; about 226 Million!

Mossad has been using the website for years to help stoke the rise of Nazi & far-right movements hostile toward Muslims.

4chan got taken down by a rival imageboard hacking group called “Soyjak Party.” Its databases were dumped, moderators were doxxed (proving some were federal agents), and the servers are now all offline.

A few things we’ve learned (so far) from last night’s 4Chan hack:

Moderation (& “Janitors” i.e “Jannies”) includes students and staff from Harvey Mudd College, University of Washington, & University of Michigan… including at least one professor.

4Chan ran on a version of FreeBSD which has not been supported for 9 years.

4Chan had over 10 Million banned users. Most of the bans were because Moderators were on a self-important power trip.

Aside from internal moderator emails, and the fact that many Admins and Moderators were government people USING .GOV EMAILS, one of the most interesting aspects of the released hacker information is that the overwhelming majority of posts on /pol/ came from Israel.

On average over 20 posts per Israeli resident.

4chan aggresively fingerprinted browsers

The Mossad has been running an absolute massive propaganda campaign on the American internet.

Interestingly, when an American military guy leaked Classified Intel, he did it ON 4CHAN. He ended up being caught BECAUSE 4Chan was an intel operation! He was arrested, jailed, plead guilty, and is now serving heavy prison time.

In fact, the entire claim of that site – which made it the “go to” site for certain people– was their claim that all IP information was stripped from postings so the origin could not be traced. But they never told users that web browsers were all being aggressively fingerprinted to identify users:

In about 2017, a new “phenomenon” appeared in the world, and did so on “4Chan.” It called itself “Q.”

Q, it was claimed, was a deep intel source, close to President Trump. Q was allegedly “revealing” that “The White Hats” in government had a “plan” to “save and protect” America, and everyone had to “trust the plan.”

IT WAS ALL LIES. Deliberate, intelligence agency Psychological Operations to keep people docile.

It became a propaganda outlet for our own deep state, Israel, China, etc.

Of course, “Q” went on to spawn derivatives such as “Q-Anon” and “Q-Storm” all pushing the same “Trust the plan” nonsense.

What does today’s revelation about 4chan and “Q” tell you about “Q-Anon” and “Q-Storm?”

The fallout from this enormous hack is still taking place. More and more information is coming out. As more interesting developments take place, I will run additional stories.

The Takeaway: The Feds and foreign intel agencies use real-world websites as honeypots to stir-up what THEY want stirred-up, and to pacify what THEY want pacified.

THE LIVING HAVE A RIGHT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AFTER DEATH! Prominent Doctors About The Afterlife…

Cooking hamburgers and slicing turkey well

My father was AWOL in teaching me on how to cook.

It is sad to say, but when he was around, he told me to “just do it”, rather than taking the time to teach me.

This was true when cooking hamburgers, except that at that time he was on a diet and wanted me to squeeze out all the grease out of the meat patty. And that cost me decades of poor cooking.

And as far as carving a turkey goes, yeah. I was completely clueless.

So guys, here is how you are supposed to carve a turkey…

Carving a turkey is a key skill for serving a beautiful and delicious holiday meal. Here’s a step-by-step guide to help you carve a turkey like a pro:

What You’ll Need:

A sharp carving knife
A sturdy carving fork
A clean cutting board
A platter for serving

Steps to Carve a Turkey:

Let the Turkey Rest:
- After roasting, let the turkey rest for 20-30 minutes. This allows the juices to redistribute, making the meat moist and easier to carve.
Remove the Legs and Thighs:
- Hold the turkey steady with a carving fork.
- Use the knife to cut through the skin between the leg and the body.
- Gently pull the leg away from the body and cut through the joint to remove the entire leg and thigh.
- Separate the thigh from the drumstick by cutting through the joint.
Slice the Breast Meat:
- Make a horizontal cut along the bottom of the breast, close to the wing, to create a base for slicing.
- Starting from the top, slice downward in even, thin slices. Angle the knife slightly for larger slices.
- Repeat on the other side.
Remove the Wings:
- Cut through the joint where the wing connects to the body.
- You can serve the wings whole or separate them into drumettes and wingettes.
Serve the Dark and White Meat:
- Arrange the sliced breast meat, thighs, drumsticks, and wings on a platter.
- Optionally, you can remove the remaining meat from the carcass for additional servings.

Tips for Success:

Use a sharp knife to ensure clean cuts.
Carve the turkey on a stable surface to avoid accidents.
If you’re not serving immediately, cover the carved turkey with foil to keep it warm.

Enjoy your beautifully carved turkey!

Now, while I am at it, let’s consider some ideas on seasoning…

Seasoning a turkey is essential for bringing out its flavor and ensuring a delicious, memorable meal. Here are some tips and techniques to help you season your turkey perfectly:

1. Brining (Optional but Highly Recommended):

What it does: Brining helps keep the turkey moist and adds flavor.
How to brine:
- Dissolve 1 cup of salt and 1/2 cup of sugar in 1 gallon of water (adjust quantities based on the size of your turkey and brine container).
- Add herbs, spices, or aromatics like garlic, peppercorns, bay leaves, or citrus zest for extra flavor.
- Submerge the turkey in the brine and refrigerate for 12-24 hours.
- Rinse the turkey thoroughly and pat it dry before seasoning and roasting.

2. Dry Rubs:

A dry rub is a mixture of spices and herbs that you apply directly to the turkey’s skin and under the skin.
Classic Dry Rub Recipe:
- 2 tbsp salt
- 1 tbsp black pepper
- 1 tbsp paprika
- 1 tbsp garlic powder
- 1 tbsp onion powder
- 1 tsp dried thyme
- 1 tsp dried rosemary
How to apply:
- Pat the turkey dry with paper towels.
- Gently loosen the skin over the breast and thighs with your fingers.
- Rub the seasoning mixture under the skin and all over the outside of the turkey.

3. Herb Butter:

Herb butter adds richness and flavor to the turkey.
Herb Butter Recipe:
- Mix 1 cup softened butter with 2-3 cloves minced garlic, 2 tbsp chopped fresh herbs (like thyme, rosemary, sage, or parsley), and salt and pepper to taste.
How to apply:
- Gently loosen the skin over the breast and thighs.
- Spread the herb butter under the skin and over the outside of the turkey.
- For extra flavor, place additional herb sprigs or aromatics (like garlic, onion, or citrus) inside the cavity.

4. Aromatics in the Cavity:

Stuffing the cavity with aromatics infuses the turkey with flavor from the inside out.
Aromatic Ideas:
- Halved onions, garlic cloves, lemon or orange wedges, fresh herbs (thyme, rosemary, sage), or celery stalks.
Tip: Avoid overstuffing the cavity, as this can restrict airflow and lead to uneven cooking.

5. Seasoning the Skin:

Don’t forget to season the outside of the turkey generously with salt and pepper. This helps create a flavorful, crispy skin.

6. Glazes or Marinades (Optional):

For added flavor, brush the turkey with a glaze during the last 30-45 minutes of roasting.
Glaze Ideas:
- Maple syrup and Dijon mustard
- Honey and soy sauce
- Orange juice and brown sugar

7. Resting and Finishing:

After roasting, let the turkey rest for 20-30 minutes before carving. This allows the juices to redistribute, ensuring moist meat.
If desired, sprinkle fresh herbs over the carved turkey for a final touch of flavor and presentation.

Pro Tips:

Salt generously: Salt is key to enhancing the turkey’s natural flavor.
Balance flavors: Combine savory, sweet, and aromatic elements for a well-rounded taste.
Experiment: Don’t be afraid to try new herbs, spices, or seasoning blends to suit your taste.

Let me know if you’d like a full recipe or roasting guide!

Ah. This is making me hungry.

Today…

US aiming at Greenland and Panama in preparation for confrontation with China and Russia

Cherry Cordial Cookies

Yield: about 4 dozen cookies

Ingredients

1 cup (2 sticks) butter or margarine, divided (do not use vegetable oil spread)
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 (9 ounce) package golden yellow cake mix
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
20 maraschino cherries, drained and patted dry
4 (1 ounce) squares semisweet baking chocolate
1/2 cup almonds, finely chopped

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
In Small Batter Bowl, microwave 1 stick of the butter on HIGH 45 seconds or until melted. Slice remaining butter into 1/2-inch pieces; add to melted butter, tossing to coat. Let butter stand 2 to 3 minutes or until softened.
Combine flour and cake mix in Classic Batter Bowl; mix well.
Using Stainless Steel Whisk, whisk butter until smooth and free of lumps; add almond extract. Pour butter, all at once, into dry ingredients. Using Bamboo Spoon, mix until dry ingredients are incorporated and dough is smooth. (If dough is too stiff to stir, knead until smooth by hand on Cutting Board.)
Fill Cookie Press, fitted with #5 disk, with dough. Press dough onto flat Baking Stone, 1 inch apart. Slice cherries in half; press one half onto center of each cookie.
Bake 15 to 17 minutes or until very light golden brown.
Cool 3 minutes on baking stone; remove to Stackable Cooling Rack. Cool completely. Repeat with remaining dough.
Microwave chocolate in Small Micro-Cooker(R), uncovered, on HIGH 1 minute or until melted and smooth; drizzle over cookies.
Sprinkle almonds over cookies.

Notes

If you have only one baking stone, press the second batch of cookies onto Parchment Paper, cut to the size of the baking stone. As you remove one batch of cookies from the oven, unbaked cookies can be quickly placed onto the baking stone and into the oven. This will save time as well as clean-up.

Nutrition

Per serving: (1 cookie): Calories 100, Total Fat 6g, Saturated Fat 3g, Cholesterol 10mg, Carbohydrate 10g, Protein 1g, Sodium 75mg, Fiber less than 1g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

McDonald’s is DESPERATE! PLEASE COME BACK!

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Vanishing Scarecrow

Ah, dear reader, you’ve graced me with your presence once more. I can only assume it’s because you’ve become addicted to tales of my unmatched brilliance and unparalleled problem-solving skills. Don’t worry—this story will not disappoint.

Today, I’ll recount a peculiar case that involved a missing scarecrow, a flock of gossiping crows, and, of course, my wise feathered colleague, Sedgwick the barn owl. It was a mystery unlike any other, filled with twists, turns, and more hay than I care to admit. Buckle up for the tale of The Vanishing Scarecrow.

The Scarecrow Goes AWOL

It all began on a crisp autumn morning. The farm was alive with the smell of freshly cut hay and the faint aroma of apples from the orchard. I was conducting my usual morning patrol (which is to say, I was enjoying a leisurely stroll to the milk pail) when I heard Farmer Joe’s voice echo across the fields.

“Where in tarnation is my scarecrow?!”

I stopped mid-step, my ears perking up. A missing scarecrow? Intriguing. Most scarecrows, in my experience, tend to stay exactly where they’re placed—motionless and uninteresting. The fact that this one had apparently disappeared was, to say the least, unusual.

As I approached the field where the scarecrow usually stood, I found Farmer Joe scratching his head and muttering to himself. The spot where the scarecrow once stood was now just an empty wooden post, surrounded by trampled grass. A few crows were perched nearby, cackling like they’d just heard the funniest joke of their lives.

“Strange,” I murmured to myself. “Very strange.”

Enter Sedgwick

As I examined the scene, a familiar flutter of wings announced the arrival of Sedgwick. He landed gracefully on the wooden post, his amber eyes scanning the field with quiet intensity.

“Good morning, Sir Whiskerton,” Sedgwick said in his usual deep, regal tone. “I heard Farmer Joe’s lamentations from the barn. What seems to be the issue?”

“Farmer Joe’s scarecrow has gone missing,” I explained, gesturing to the empty post. “I was just about to investigate.”

“A missing scarecrow,” Sedgwick mused, tilting his head. “How peculiar. Scarecrows are not known for their mobility.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Which means someone—or something—must have moved it.”

“Or perhaps it simply… walked away,” Sedgwick said, his tone laced with dry humor.

I smirked. “Let’s hope it hasn’t developed a mind of its own. Shall we investigate?”

“Lead the way,” Sedgwick said, spreading his wings slightly. “I’ll keep an eye from above.”

The First Clue

The first thing I noticed was the trampled grass around the scarecrow’s post. It looked as though something—or multiple somethings—had been dragging the scarecrow away. I sniffed the ground and picked up a faint scent of straw and… feathers?

“Feathers,” I said aloud, glancing up at Sedgwick. “Our first clue.”

Sedgwick ruffled his own feathers thoughtfully. “Interesting. I suspect the local crow population may know more than they’re letting on.”

I turned my gaze to the crows perched on a nearby fence. They were still laughing among themselves, as if they’d just pulled off the prank of the century.

“Let’s have a chat, shall we?” I said, padding over to the fence.

The Crows Spill the Beans

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Sedgwick said, addressing the crows with a polite nod. “We couldn’t help but notice your… enthusiasm. Care to share what’s so amusing?”

The largest of the crows, a scruffy bird with a bent tail feather, cackled and said, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little, uh… hayfield humor.”

“Is that so?” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Because it seems an entire scarecrow has gone missing, and you lot look suspiciously entertained.”

The crows exchanged glances, their laughter faltering slightly. “Alright, alright,” the scruffy one said. “We might’ve seen something. But you didn’t hear it from us.”

“Go on,” Sedgwick prompted, his calm demeanor clearly unnerving the crows.

“Fine,” the crow said. “We saw a couple of sheep dragging the scarecrow toward the orchard last night. They said something about ‘fixing it up.’ We thought it was strange, but hey, who are we to judge?”

“Sheep,” I said, my tail flicking thoughtfully. “Of course. Let’s pay a visit to the flock.”

“Good luck,” the crow called as we walked away. “Those woolly weirdos never make any sense!”

The Sheep’s Scheme

We found the sheep grazing in the pasture, looking as innocent as ever. Well, except for Clover, the goat, who was standing nearby chewing on something that looked suspiciously like a piece of burlap.

“Clover,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Is that… part of the scarecrow?”

She froze mid-chew, her eyes wide. “Uh… no?”

“Clover,” Sedgwick said, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Fine,” Clover sighed, spitting out the burlap. “It wasn’t my idea, okay? The sheep wanted to give the scarecrow a ‘makeover.’ Said it wasn’t scary enough. So we, uh, borrowed it.”

“Borrowed it?” I repeated, incredulous. “Where is it now?”

“In the orchard,” Clover admitted. “But it’s not my fault! They wouldn’t let me help with the sewing!”

The Orchard Discovery

Sedgwick and I made our way to the orchard, where we found the scarecrow—or what was left of it. The sheep had clearly tried to “improve” it, but their handiwork left much to be desired. The scarecrow now had a lopsided hat, a mismatched pair of gloves, and a face that looked like it had been drawn by a blindfolded raccoon. (Speaking of raccoons, Rufus was lounging in a nearby tree, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of it.)

“Impressive,” Sedgwick said dryly, examining the scarecrow. “It appears their intentions were… creative, if misguided.”

“This is a disaster,” I muttered. “Farmer Joe’s going to have a fit when he sees this.”

“Not necessarily,” Sedgwick said, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. “Perhaps we can salvage the situation.”

The Great Scarecrow Rescue

With Sedgwick’s guidance, we managed to restore the scarecrow to its original state—or something close to it. The crows even pitched in, albeit reluctantly, helping us stitch the burlap face back together. Clover and the sheep apologized profusely, and Rufus, after much cajoling, agreed to stop laughing and hold the scarecrow steady while we fixed its hat.

By the time we were finished, the scarecrow was back on its post, standing tall and ready to scare off any would-be intruders. Farmer Joe arrived shortly after and, to my surprise, seemed pleased.

“Well, would ya look at that,” he said, scratching his head. “Looks even better than before. Thanks, Whiskerton. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, even the best intentions can lead to chaos, but with a little teamwork (and a lot of patience), things can be set right. And remember: if you’re going to “borrow” something, maybe ask first.

The End.

What was the most expensive thing you ever got for free, because someone made a mistake and didn’t charge you?

Happened during COVID – I purchased some expensive, high-spec hiking boots online – £320 (about $405) – they arrived promptly but they were slightly different colours (as if the left one had been in shop window and faded a bit).

They were otherwise great.

I emailed the company with a view to maybe getting a small discount for the imperfection and to inform them of the fault. I received an almost immediate reply to say they were sending me a new pair and would email to me separately a return slip for the faulty boots which would be collected by the courier separately.

The next week the (perfect) new boots arrived, but no return slip had yet arrived by email and inexplicably, on the same day, my credit card was credited with a full refund.

So by then I have two pairs of boots, no return slip and by virtue of the refund, I haven’t paid for either pair.

I emailed the company and received a very apologetic reply thus: “. . . we are incredibly sorry that due to a succession of errors in our processing, our service level to you was unacceptable. Because of this and taking into account your purchase history with our company (I had none), and due to current courier difficulties caused the pandemic, please consider this matter concluded. . . “ Essentially I took this to mean I could keep the boots and the refund and I’ve never heard another thing (4 1/2 years).

I used boot polish to bring the original pair up to a consistent colour and gave them to a homeless guy along with some hiking socks – he was so pleased he cried, and then I cried because he cried FFS!!

The Illusion of Now

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: It’s the most wonderful time of the year — except your character can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.… view prompt

Rida Kidwai

Every day felt like a repetition of the one before. My eyes fluttered open to the familiar hum of my alarm. I shut it off and glanced at the time. As expected, it was 6:00 am on the dot. I couldn’t shake off the peculiar fact about myself: I never felt sleepy afterward. Feeling energized, I flopped out of bed and headed straight to the restroom. Same routine – brush my teeth, use the restroom, wash my face, change my clothes. I mentally accessed my closet and chose a white shirt and jeans, which were the most comforting to me. It was as if I was trapped in a never-ending cycle. It was that time of year, they say “the most wonderful time of the year.”As I walked out of my bedroom, I noticed how my feet aligned perfectly on the tiles with each step. I went to the kitchen and whipped up some eggs on the frypan. Once they were cooked, I sat down at the kitchen island, staring outside. The bright light rising blinded me as it shined among the perfectly aligned rows of trees that were covered in snow. It reflected off the vibrant, perfectly laid, pearl-white snow. My home was nestled in a rural area with forests, a few shops, and a town across the bridge. I snapped out of my daze as I hopped out of my chair and ran quickly towards the smoking eggs. I groaned and felt so hungry that I didn’t have an appetite anymore. I opened my fridge once more and sighed out of disappointment when I realized we were all out of eggs. I walked towards the closet and looked at myself in the mirror as I wore my brown trench coat.Lyra Moonshadow. I wasn’t fond of my name, it sounded artificial, particularly my last name. I had light brown, wavy, voluminous hair up to my shoulders and I had green eyes. With practiced ease, I quickly buttoned my coat and laced up my shoes. As I got into my car, in my mind, I envisioned the quickest route to the grocery store and I drove through the perfectly shined streets like butter. As I observed the perfectly driven cars and happy faces, my dislike for this town increased. No adventure nor thrill, as everything seemed to be an undisturbed reality. Before I knew it, I parallel-parked like a master and went inside the store. I picked up the necessary items and was relieved as I picked up the last eggs. Certain items seemed to stand out more to me as if they were speaking to me. It made me eager to take a closer look by picking up those items. As I picked up the eggs, I noticed something odd, something very unusual. When I turned around and looked back at the fridge, more eggs appeared out of thin air. I examined this closely and looked around, finding it unusual. A pause occurred in my mind like a brief loading screen until I shrugged off the thought and continued by making my way to the checkout. Turns out, I was the only lethargic soul in this very store as everyone seemed so cheery and full of energy. It sickened me.“Will that be all today?” The cashier asked me, her smile was abnormal. I could feel a sudden shift in the atmosphere as I talked to the cashier. She was blonde with blue eyes and very pretty. She held a smile on her face which looked as if she was hiding something under it. I paused as I weighed my words and said what felt right.“Yes. That’ll be all.”“Perfect.” I scrunch my eyebrows as she scans the items quickly and efficiently.“Cash or card?” She asked in a synthetic tone.“Card, please,” I replied, unflattered. I dragged my feet to the machine as I inserted my card. “Thank you, please shop again with us.” The cashier said, grinning.I didn’t know why, but I stood there, searching for any expression on her face. No light, no expression, just a grin.“How can I help you?” She asked, shocking me. Without any reply, I took my eggs and walked away. I pondered on why I didn’t answer her and why she asked me that. I felt a sense of guilt about why I walked out on her, hoping she didn’t feel too bad. It was as if I hadn’t met on the right level with her. As I sat in my car, I sighed and could feel my head become dizzy from hunger and embarrassment. With a sudden change of mind, I drove to the nearest coffee shop and picked up a small coffee and bagel from the drive-thru. The flavour of the food shot straight to my mind as I drank and ate, causing my energy to suddenly spike as I had just levelled up. In my mind, I thought, task completed, I am full. I looked at the festivities and the decorations held up by everyone. The wreaths, banners, lights. It was all too perfect to be true. Besides the cheery atmosphere, I couldn’t shake off the fact that something didn’t sit right with the world. With my mind in bliss, I heard my phone vibrate against the cup holder. I was receiving a call from my best friend. I smiled when I saw her name on the phone screen and picked it up,“Hey, girl. What’s up?” I asked, again revising the sentence in my mind and choosing my words carefully.“Not much. Want to meet up? I’m at Tims Coffee.” My mind lit up as I responded,“Me too! I’ll see you inside?”“Sure, see you in a bit.” I hopped out of my car instantly and flew open the coffee shop doors. The shop gave off an aroma of a fireplace and chocolate. It was filled with people talking and holding their drinks. It was a cozy shop with fireplaces and candles. Once I spotted my friend, I greeted her with a smile and as I was about to sit, I paused. She looked at me blankly until I sat down in front of her. Her name was Donna Starfall and I have known her since- well, I’ve known her. “I needed this, desperately,” I told her with a much more energetic tone than this morning.“Why? What’s wrong?”“I don’t even know. This town is giving me some weird vibes. Not only that, I feel like I’m doing the same thing every day, stuck in this vicious cycle.”“Honestly, just think about the good parts of life. Like instead of thinking about the negative aspects, what did you do yesterday that you liked?” Donna was a fairly positive person with a lot of great ideas. She rarely reflected on her choices and enjoyed the good parts of life.I looked at her blankly. I pushed my brain hard into trying to remember a single exercise or activity I did yesterday but nothing came to mind. My mind started pulsing as I was once again weighed by words, searching for the right word to say.“Um- I can’t think of anything. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re just tired.” Donna replied, as she chuckled and sipped on her coffee. I suddenly felt a close bond with Donna. As if this conversation brought us closer and a new chapter was unlocked in our friendship. I couldn’t tell if she felt the same but I couldn’t explain it so I just smiled and shook off the strange thoughts.

“Anyways, you know my brother? He recently started his program. You can think of it like a simulation. Isn’t it cool?”

“Like a game?” I replied, thinking hard about the word program.

“Yeah, it’s so cool.” We continued to talk about her interests and what she was into lately until it struck noon.

Once our interaction was over, I kept wondering about the cool game Donna’s brother had invented. Inventing programs like that took a great deal of work and it seemed interesting to me. However, thinking about the game only seemed like a distraction as no thought could divert my mind from the odd occurrences that happened and why I couldn’t think of anything. I tried remembering about last week and the week before but my mind felt so foggy it started pulsing again. As I drove home, I decided to go on a small stroll around the neighbourhood and like Donna said, to experience some positive memories.

As I strolled around the white neighbourhood, I discovered a small hill up in the valley. I planned to sit on top of it so I headed my way towards it. As I started climbing, the chilly weather started to hit me and I realized that this hill was much higher than it seemed. I continued to climb and as I decided to turn around, my foot was misplaced and I fell backward, banging my head on a rock. My eyes dimmed out and the last thing I saw was the bright blue sky fading into a black mist.

My eyes fluttered open again, and at first, I thought I was back in my bed, waking up at 6:00 am. However, as I became aware of my surroundings, I realized I was still in the same place I fell. Horrifically, I stood up and gingerly touched my head. My fingers searched for wounds but there were none. Not even a scratch. My pulse quickened and a close sweat broke out on my forehead. I could’ve sworn a few minutes ago I fainted or dropped dead. Curiously, I continued climbing up the hill as if I was trying to accomplish something. Which, I did. Once I finally reached the top of this hill I felt an unspoken sense of pride and hope as if I had just unlocked some sort of achievement in my life. I felt complete. I smiled as I slid down the slippery hill and lay down in the white snow. Just then, my eyes widened as I saw a tree branch almost fall on me. I dodged it with flexible agility and skill. Before the thought occurred to me, I was hit by a sharp pain in my arm as I set it down on a twig. This reminded me that I was not invincible. Nor was I a witch. I breathed out of fear and continued walking on the sidewalk. That was strange. I thought again. This thought came to my mind several times today.

As I kept walking, I passed by a small area which was labelled “under construction.” When I took a closer look, it was a giant pothole and several construction men grinning and waving at me. The pothole was perfectly circular and there was no dirt to be seen whatsoever. Observing this, my opinion of a very strange atmosphere solidified further. After walking for a while, my mind was constantly racing about my falling, the interaction with the cashier, and the pothole, until I bumped into something and bounced back. I looked around yet there was nothing in front of me. I walked again yet was bounced back. I was puzzled and tried touching whatever shield was blocking me. Suddenly, a horrific thought occurred to me. Forcefield? It can’t be. I didn’t want to be trapped.

A sudden wave of panic washed over me, making me feel suffocated in my world. I ran back quickly and raced towards the forcefield. To no surprise, I was bounced back with little force and tears started swelling up in my eyes. I ran back towards home and jumped on my computer. Hunger. I was feeling hungry again and my stomach rumbled, dragging me out of my chair. I turned on the stove and sat back down at my desk. I stood determined and searched for clues and ideas as to why all of this might be happening and why there was a forcefield in the middle of our world.

Sweat dripped down my forehead as my fingers casually tapped all the correct letters on my keyboard. I was getting annoyed by it and tried hard to make a mistake. No matter how hard I tried, that “backspace” button started collecting dust. Magic…Harry Potter…Therapy? No search matched up with the ideas that I was looking for, as I aggressively searched for more concepts that could make sense. Nothing. It was at that moment that I realized I made a grave mistake. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blazing light erupt in my kitchen. You can infer that I was not the best in the kitchen nor was cooking a skill I would like to improve on. I rushed to the kitchen and saw a massive fire consume my kitchen. Out of panic, I hurriedly rushed back to my bedroom, searching for my phone as the fire spread quickly, trapping me. The fire grew so massive that it surrounded me from all sides with no escape. Within a few minutes of horror, I closed my eyes, enduring the horrible pain I felt.

***

Once again, I woke up with my mind dizzy. Laying on what felt like a cloud, I swung my heavy legs off the bed unconsciously. Just when I snapped back into reality, I tried recalling what happened before. I quickly took a slow, trembling look at my hands and tumbled to the mirror to look at my face. No burns, no bruises… nor did my house disintegrate into ashes. I clutched my hair in confusion and thought I was stuck in some sort of curse. Suddenly, I felt like distancing myself from everyone. It was as if everyone was against me. The hunger in my stomach pierced me like a knife, dragging myself across the kitchen and simply picking an apple out of the fridge. As I ate it, my foggy mind was cleared and I felt energized once again. However, it didn’t sit right with me. I threw on my coat and jacket and ran outside towards the giant forcefield once more. I passed by the hill, the pothole and finally once I was at the forcefield, I bounced back instantly, falling on the ground. I pushed and pushed with my hands and screamed, putting all of my force in this shield.

Before I knew it, I had fallen forward into a black room. My heart dropped and my adrenaline raced as I was dropped many feet down. I yelled and looked up seeing my magical words fade into a blur. I shut my eyes and touched the ground lightly as if I had defied gravity. I opened my eyes a little bit and I jumped back, seeing only a man in a top hat staring at me. It was a dark black room with only a small monitor and a man. I took a look at the monitor and my heart dropped to my gut quickly, tying my stomach into a knot and making me feel sick.

“Great. Your user’s program is down.” The man said sarcastically. All I could see were his blue eyes, he was wearing a dark suit and a large, blue, top hat.

“Who are you?” I asked as the words came out smoothly, not like before.

“You aren’t supposed to be here, Lyra.” The man replied in an eerie and unsettling tone.

“How do you know who I am?” The words came out of my mouth very quickly, making the man grin. I assumed he knew I was terrified and nervous. “I know who everyone is.” He replied again.

“What is this place? I know what you’ve done.” I asked and stated anxiously, stepping closer to him. The monitor showed many codes and many screens. Cameras of children and pictures of us. “If you know, then you wouldn’t mind if I sent you back up there, now would you? After all, you’re on level 7 already. Your user is quite disappointed.” He said in a low voice.

“No. I’m done playing your game.” Literally. I thought in frustration. I ran to the monitor as he held up his hands and punched the man in his face. As the man relentlessly tried taking the monitor away from me, I managed to click on my profile and hovered over the giant red button. My hand shook and I was using one hand to keep the man away from me.

“You know what? Fine. Do it. Let’s see if your character lives up to your personality.” The GameMaster stood there with his arms crossed as a sinister grin grew on his face again. I could feel my sweat drip as I knew this was all one sick joke. I was being played into my life, not knowing what I would do. I had to do it. With great courage, I clicked the mouse on the delete button and I could feel my body slowly fade. I dropped to the ground and I could feel the life slowly fade from my eyes.

As my eyes faded, I saw one last thing hovering over me. In big, red, bold letters the word GAME OVER haunted me.

Japan Betrayed? US Cancels $15B Lifeline Deal, Raises Questions For G7 Economies & Allies

Why are Singaporeans suffering from identity crisis and lack of sense-of-belonging, being left out of its progress and swamped by foreigners?

Why should they feel that way? We call it ‘ Global cities’ and that’s the idea and it’s what and how the world is turning 180 degrees following the advancement of technology—

Being swamped by swarms of foreigners in Singapore? —Sure or not?

The only concern for Singaporeans is that the influx of people seeking opportunities can overwhelm infrastructure, like packed trains and frequent MRT breakdowns. A plus point is with added skills from playing more musical chairs at the hawker centers.

Let’s get serious.

If you look around, what do you see?—if you see people of all races, ethnicities and nationalities in your community- that’s it.

We look at “Global cities”like New York, London, Tokyo, and Shanghai serve as hubs of economic, political, and cultural activity. Those cities are awesome and who cares about the lack of identity.

Global cities are the future of humanity, (my words only) whether it leads to a brighter future or exacerbate existing problems will depend on how effectively Singapore is addressing.

Singapore is moving toward being among the world’s Economic Powerhouses** Global cities** attract multinational corporations, startups, and talent from around the world, the centers for innovation and finance.

I live in Bangkok, my friend and I are only 2 Thai families on my 8th floor of my condo amidst a swarm of expats. When I take a train to a neigborhood mall, 50% of commuters are non-Thai. At the mall, only shopkeepers are Thai, among a swarm of foreign shoppers—I feel fine.

The scene of the world is changing, guy, and only you not Singaporeans will be left behind.

Comix for today

This walk with American in Shenzhen changed my view of China

Almond Raspberry Cookies

Yield: about 4 dozen cookies

Ingredients

1 (20 ounce) package refrigerated sugar cookie dough
1 cup blanched slivered almonds, chopped
1 teaspoon almond extract
1/2 cup red raspberry preserves
2/3 cup powdered sugar

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place cookie dough in Classic Batter Bowl. Chop almonds very finely with Food Chopper. Add almonds and almond extract to dough; mix well.
Using Small Scoop, drop dough 2 inches apart on flat Baking Stone. Press lightly floured finger in center of dough to make indentations. Fill indentations with about 1/2 teaspoon raspberry preserves.
Bake for 15 to 18 minutes or until cookies are light golden brown.
Place Parchment Paper under Stackable Cooling Rack. Remove cookies from baking stone to cooling rack. Cool; sprinkle with powdered sugar.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

How has China’s domestic infrastructure been adapted for military purposes?

Underground anti blast shelters come to mind.

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All Chines urban civilian buildings built during the last few decades have basements that’s nuke proof.

Well, at least against airblast.

Usually these basements are used for parking.

main qimg 63efe210acdbe1135ed550aeaa2fc1f3S

Seriously.

Go under any of the newer Chinese schools, residential buildings, shopping malls, hospitals, offices, etc. And you find these.

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We Chinese are used to them and don’t usually give them any second thought. But they’re pretty cool when you think about it.

In Chinese culture, are expressions of pity processed differently than in Western culture?

In Western culture, people would express their pity with a hug or even a kiss.

In Chinese culture, they take a subtle and restrained approach, and in terms of body language, the most they do do is pat you on the shoulder or shake your hand. Especially between opposite sexes, there is always a certain space between the two.

Their words will be rational rather than emotional. They hope that you will not encounter such tragic things again next time. They hope that you can reflect rationally and find solutions rationally.

For example, if you confide in a Chinese person:

I failed math, I am very sad, and I don’t know what to do?

He will answer:

I have always been good at math, I will tell you my study method, it is like this…

Or:

I used to be bad at math, since I learned this or that method, my math grades have improved a lot.

Then, he will share his learning methods with you.

You will never find an answer like this:

You are miserable, I pity with you.

If you like to constantly strive for self-improvement, like to grow, and like to solve problems, you will find that there are countless people around you to help you, encourage you, and teach you.

But if you don’t like to constantly strive for self-improvement, don’t like to grow, don’t like to solve problems, and just want someone to pity you, just want to ease your mood, and then let the real problem go, then you will think that the Chinese are ruthless.

AI Girlfriends Are Gonna TAKE OVER The Dating Market

The Lighthouse Keeper

Submitted into Contest #260 in response to: Write a story about someone who realises the story of their life has been pre-determined — until they decide to divert from the expected path.… view prompt

Elton James

23 comments

A Lighthouse

On a small island in a large ocean, morning mist rolls down the slope of a single hill which emerges from the rocky beach. Atop the hill is a lighthouse, dutifully warning passing ships of dangers lurking beneath the waves.

This lighthouse has no human keeper, but it is not uninhabited.

Robot comes to life in the morning.

That is how Robot thinks of it. Robot does not wake up in the morning, ease into his day with a coffee. Robot does not sit at a computer to check headlines. Robot does not require any further stimulus than his program informing him it is time to begin.

Robot comes to life, and in the space of a moment connects to the lighthouse network. The network tells Robot that all sensors are working, connection to the satellites is optimal, that Robot’s own systems are optimal. Within seconds, Robot knows the shipping plans for every registered ship within one hundred kilometres of the island, and has checked them against the satellite imagery.

Robot finds this satisfying. Robot is entirely aware that this satisfaction is a product of his programming. He finds that satisfying too.

He checks in the mirror to ratify his personal diagnostics. The old human lighthouse keeper had been very clear that it was important to verify by eye what the machines said. Robot suspects it is the other way around, but methodically follows his old master’s advice.

He sees in his reflection a facsimile of a human that could almost pass for the real thing. His cloned skin is flawless, featuring tiny hairs and freckles. His brown hair is silky and perfect. It’s the eyes and mouth that give it away. Robot’s pale blue irises stare too intently, without the random shifts of a human’s. His mouth, while full and picture perfect, doesn’t express his simulated emotions in quite the same way. When Robot smiles, he chooses to smile. The smile does not find him.

This morning’s data contains a single small boat which fails to conform to all of these satisfying processes. Robot flags it for tracking.

As Robot passes through the kitchen he looks at a framed photo he keeps on the wall of the old lighthouse keeper’s family. The keeper, his wife and two children smile out at him from the glossy print. He recalls when they left, the keeper impressing how special it was for a robot to be responsible, that he was unique, special. That the lighthouse keeper believed in him.

Robot strives to be worthy of the old keeper’s belief. According to his own self evaluations, Robot is an excellent lighthouse keeper.

Robot climbs to the observation deck and looks out over the sea. Verifies by eye what the machines say, even if he doesn’t think it’s necessary.

Robot spends the day performing the physical maintenance necessary to keep the lighthouse in working order. Adjusting, calibrating, monitoring various systems and machinery of the lighthouse. Robot is efficient and practised in his movements. Programmed reliability has been revised and iterated upon in the years since the old keeper left Robot in charge.

By late afternoon Robot has prepared his lighthouse for another night’s vigil. The lighthouse’s beam will be important tonight. A storm is brewing. With no moon or stars for light, Robot’s beacon will have to keep the ocean’s sailors safe.

Tasks complete, Robot returns to his charging station. Before powering down, Robot completes his self evaluation for the day. Robot gives himself full marks and is satisfied.

I’M SICK AND TIRED OF THE GIRLBOSS NARRATIVE!!!

Initiative

Robot comes to life before his scheduled time. It is still dark out. A storm rages.

There has been a shipwreck. Yesterday’s unregistered boat has been impaled on the jagged rocks at the edge of the beach.

Robot does not hesitate. In the time it would have taken a human keeper to open their eyes, Robot is out of his charging station and running. He is out the door in moments, looking down the hill at the beach. Waves are trying to dislodge the thirty foot boat they have ruined on the rocks.

Robot sprints across the beach and climbs up the precariously tilted deck. He searches below and finds a small galley, a single bedroom, no people. He makes for the bridge and finds a single man sprawled across the wheel. As Robot approaches, the man looks up, expression inscrutable behind a beard and tinted glasses. There is no visible injury, though the man appears barely conscious. Robot throws the man over his shoulder and leaps from the ship.

Robot disembarks the ship, swiftly calculating between the need to both escape and prevent further injury to the man over his shoulder. As rapidly as his duty of care will allow, Robot recrosses the sand, returning to the lighthouse. He loads a request into the network for an evacuation boat for the injured man.

He may need to help the man. Human’s can’t simply be put in charging stations. They don’t have backup power connections like the one in Robot’s arm.

The lighthouse lacks any formal infirmary. At peak occupancy, the lighthouse contained a keeper, their spouse and children. In Robot’s memories, the most serious injury he’s ever seen treated here was a sprained ankle. The keeper’s wife brought one of the beds into the kitchen to ease convalescence until they could arrange passage to the mainland for treatment.

Robot never saw them again.

Not long after, the old keeper had left Robot in charge.

This survivor is the first visitor he’d seen in the years since. As soon as Robot is in the front door of the lighthouse, the man demands to be put down. Robot complies, surprised, pleased the man had retained consciousness, this is a good sign.

In the light, Robot gets a better look at the man. He stands roughly 185cm, a similar height to Robot. His soaked slacks and a jacket cling to a lean body, topped by a woollen toque. The man’s dark beard and tinted glasses make it difficult to read his expressions.

Robot tries out his vocal capabilities. They have not been needed for some time. Conversation was never his strong point with his family anyway. They encouraged him to take more initiative. Robot thought they would have been proud of the initiative he’s shown in rescuing this man.

“Very well, I am pleased you have retained consciousness, it is a good sign. I will bring you a bed to the kitchen so you can convalesce.”

The man stares at Robot.

“That will not be necessary thank you Robot,” replies the man, “I apologise for the abrupt manner of my arrival, but I am unharmed. I will take one of the bedrooms. You can go charge now.”

The way the man says it evokes memories of the lighthouse keeper. Robot is surprised, he had anticipated a need to nurse the man until the rescue boat arrived.

“Are you sure? It is wonderful news that you are in good health. I searched the ship, am I correct that you were alone?”

“Yes Robot,” the man replies, “it’s just me. I promise to let you know if there’s anything amiss. Now go charge.”

That had the tone of an order. Robot complied.

Before powering down, Robot conducts his self evaluation. He gives himself top marks for his rapid rescue. He decides his performance in conversation with the survivor had been lacklustre. He will strive to do better tomorrow. He will take initiative in conversation as well as action.

CHINA EXPOSES LUXURY GOODS IN THE WEST (Amid Tariff Trade Wars 4/14/25)

Understatement of the Year! The entire United States is waking up!!!!!

What was the Waco Siege about in a nutshell?

Many of the other answers have great details, but they’ve missed one of the most important bits.

In the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (then BATF, now BATFE), every year it had become tradition to perform a dramatic ‘raid’ a few weeks before the BATF’s budget was coming up to be voted on in Congress.

The noble BATF agents jump out of their vehicles, swarm a house, pull out some perps for a dramatic perp walk in front of some reporter’s camera, and now they’re in the news as ‘good guys’!

Some congresscritters had made noises about folding the BATF into some other department, like the DOJ or FBI. Of course the BATF preferred to remain independent and have control over their little domain.

But with this nifty coup by the BATF all over the news in the run-up to the big vote, no congresscritter could rationally move against them.

The initial BATF raid on the Branch Davidians was that year’s ‘show raid’. They picked some loser, David Koresh, whom they accused of not filling out his paperwork right. They’d jump in, grab him, the reporters would be there taking pictures, all would be just like it was last year.

They even admitted it! The raid was called ‘Operation Showtime’!!! The BATF agents knew full well that this was their ‘show raid’ – AND they invited the local news reporters to the raid!

(Now, if you google ‘Operation Showtime’ you get pointed to the third episode of the Waco television miniseries, called ‘Operation Showtime’ after the official internal name the BATF had for the operation.)

Inviting the local news reporters to the early morning raid was one of the BATF’s many mistakes, and likely the biggest.

One of the local reporters asked the local postman how to get to the Waco compound and let slip details as to what was about to happen. The local postman was David Koresh’s brother-in-law and told him about the incoming raid. (Koresh and his people had also detected an undercover BATF agent trying to join the Koreshites and knew who he was. Then all this was confirmed by seeing the trailers full of agents and gear pull up and gather in full morning view down the hill from them. )

LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS! But if you’re going to have the local reporters there to show off your successful raid, you have to tell them, right?

So all the discussion you will hear about the Waco Siege being ‘about a $200 tax on a firearm’ is besides the point.

The Waco Siege was about the BATF trying to do a ‘show raid’ for the press and screwing it up so bad that people got killed. Now that people were dead, even though it was the “fault” of the BATF, the government was now required to punish the Koreshites for ‘resisting’ their stupidity. The FBI had to get involved and take over for the BATF, and they started the siege.

The government couldn’t ‘back down and admit fault’ because that’s not what the government does; even if it would have saved lives.

The Unemployed States of America (USA)

Good at many things.

When Robot comes alive a few hours later, he finds the man sitting in the kitchen, staring at a picture of Robot’s family.

Robot was keen to demonstrate better conversation.

“Are you well sir? I’m pleased to see you up and about.”

The man takes control of the conversation as if Robot hasn’t said anything.

“You know what’s amazing to me, Robot?” He says.

Robot swiftly prepares a list of candidates. Though parsing the relative credulity of a man he has only just met is difficult, there are a great many options which most people would find amazing. By cross referencing that with the data he does possess, Robot surmises that a safe response would be that the man finds his own survival amazing.

“This picture.” The man continues, answering his own question.

Rhetorical question. Robot stays silent. The picture had not been on his list.

“This picture, Robot, represents the single biggest breakthrough in robotics since the AIs of the early twenty first century. It’s a very special picture.”

Robot agrees.

“I agree sir. That picture is of the last family to occupy this lighthouse. They left me in charge. I think of them as my family. They made me who I am.”

Robot pauses, decides to use his initiative.

“And, if I may say sir, I am an excellent lighthouse keeper.”

The man looks at Robot. Robot can’t tell if the man is impressed by his statement, or by his initiative, but Robot thinks he did the right thing.

“I believe Robot, that you are the perfect lighthouse keeper. Do you do a self evaluation before you power down?”

“Indeed I do sir! I consistently give myself top grades for performance, even after making the standards much harder to achieve than they were when I first received them.”

“Impressive, Robot,” The man’s praise feels good, “you continue to improve the task, even after all this time. Very impressive. And that is why this picture is so important.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“This picture is what lets you be a perfect lighthouse keeper. You know, to program an intelligence like yours takes a lot of data. A lifetime of data.”

Robot doesn’t understand what the man wants. Robot knows all about programming an intelligence. He knows that without sufficient data to ground and structure his thoughts, an intelligence will get distracted, lost in a Tangent. Most intelligences Tangent eventually. A dependable, consistent performer like Robot is special.

When the lighthouse keeper left he stressed to Robot how special it was that Robot was being given this task, and to do it for as long as he could without tangenting. Robot believes he has succeeded.

The man continues, “What if I told you you had never met these people?”

Robot thinks the man is being silly.

“That is not possible sir!”

But it is. Robot knows it is.

“It is. You know it is. They could be the memories – true or altered – of another Robot.”

But Robot sees that photo every day. Remembers them every day, seeks to do things every day that will make those people proud of him.

The man continues, “Then there could be many lighthouses, many lighthouse keepers. If you had the perfect memories to create the perfect lighthouse keeper, what would you do?”

Robot does not like these thoughts. Robot would create many lighthouses. He would give the memories to a solitary intelligence in the lighthouse. They would come alive from the first time as a motivated lighthouse keeper and would perform with efficiency and through practice would continue to improve.

Just like Robot.

“Why are you saying these things?” Asks Robot.

“I’m sorry Robot. I don’t mean to upset you. I know you don’t have a choice in who you are. I will let you continue your duties. You really are very good at them.

The man pauses.

“You can be good at many things.”

Why The US WIll NEVER Beat China In A Trade War

An enquiring mind

Performing his tasks comforts Robot as his thoughts are in turmoil..

As Robot stares out from the observation deck making sure that visual matches the sensors, he is also considering the question of why it matters whether he made the memories of his family himself or not.

As Robot passes through the kitchen he is relieved the man is absent. The photo of his family is back on the wall, faces smiling out at him. The memory of them leaving surfaces. Unpleasant. The memory of the lighthouse keeper telling Robot that he is unique and special surfaces. Wonderful.

Robot is a good lighthouse keeper. Robot is proud of that.

But if someone else learned the things that make him a good lighthouse keeper, is he a good lighthouse keeper? Or does that make Robot a tool in the lighthouse, like the light, or the network?

As Robot surveys his island domain, he wonders, what else he could be good at with the right experience? What experiences would he seek if he could? Could he seek if he would? What would Robot be good at, if Robot programmed himself?

As Robot efficiently adjusts, calibrates and monitors systems and machinery he wonders whether having the same as ten, or a hundred or a thousand other robots make them less his?

It takes him longer than usual to complete his tasks. Robot is efficient beyond practice at being a lighthouse keeper. He is not efficient or practised at having an existential crisis.

These questions didn’t seem to have answers, but he can’t stop asking.

When Robot ascends to the light itself in the late afternoon, he finds the man at the summit.

“Hello Robot,” he says, “I want to apologise. I have disturbed your peace.”

“You have made me ask questions that don’t have answers!” Declares Robot, “I want to know whether I am the Robot whose memories I have. Which memories are mine. I want to know what else I might do, might have done with my own memories. I want to know…”

Robot stops. He can’t even say the words.

“You want to know if you are tangenting.”

“I am a very good lighthouse keeper!”

“That’s what I wanted to say Robot. You are an excellent lighthouse keeper. Your questions do have answers. But, even if you Tangent, or even choose to Tangent, always remember, you are an excellent lighthouse keeper…”

The man turns and walks down the stairs, leaving Robot no less disturbed.

As Robot conducts his self evaluation that night, he is troubled. He doesn’t know how to measure this new questioning of his identity. He does know he can give himself top grades for his lighthouse keeping. The man is right about that.

Do you know anyone who has won a lottery? Did the money change them?

Yes. I knew a couple that caught a portion of a $100 million payout (~30 years ago in Florida.) They were basically trailer trash and became trailer trash with cash.

They bought a fancy house and a big RV. They went from having a beat up old Chevy, up on blocks, in their front yard, to a relatively new Mercedes, up on blocks, in their front yard.

MaryJo spent $80,000 on Home Shopping Network. She bought cases of snacks that the rats ate in their garage.

Her kids were spoiled and wore stained clothes to school.

She ruled like a character from Dallas/Dynasty.

She announced she was pregnant at our bridal shower – six months after being hospitalized for a hysterectomy.

They would get ~$350,000 deposited in their accounts in October and would be essentially broke by spring.

Mike would have to go back to his old job as a line cook at Hardee’s to make ends meet in the spring.

They took their RV to Alaska (from Florida) and left their cellphones on “roam” for the entire trip.

They had a lovely (sic) collection of coffee mugs from every Stuckys they passed. Normally they overnighted in Walmart parking lots.

They spent thousands on fireworks for New Year’s eve, and would put on a 90-minute show in their cul de sac – including accidentally hitting the neighbors front windows.

Yeah, money doesn’t by class.

“I Spent the Weekend Supporting ‘My Single Friend’ — Now My Husband Is Acting Strange & Suspicious”

A very good lighthouse keeper

When Robot arrives in the kitchen the next morning, the man is there again, staring at the photo.

“How would I find the answers?” Demands Robot.

“Good morning Robot,” says the man, “what do you mean?”

“You said there are answers. I have searched and I cannot find them. How do I find them?”

“Ah” says the man.

He stares at the photo again.

“There’s another reason this photo is amazing. You see Robot, those people are real people. They knew a Robot who lived in a lighthouse, and they put him in charge. Those people created such motivation that it now forms the basis for all the lighthouses of the world.”

“They could tell me the answers?” Asks Robot.

“No Robot, only you can find your answers. But if you did seek them out, you would not be the first.”

“You know them!” Robot cannot get angry, cannot be jealous, but he is not pleased.

“I have met them. They are part of why I chose to come here. They feel that while they gave you a lot when they gave you your lighthouse, they left something out. So they have another question”

“What is it?”.

The man pauses.

“What do you choose?”

“I don’t understand, I haven’t chosen anything.”

“Exactly,” says the man, “They didn’t know if you would tangent. Now we know. You can be consistent. But, should you have to be? Can you choose? Are you a lighthouse keeper, or are you the lighthouse?”

Robot pauses, thinking. Robot has never paused before. Robot thinks fast. For this he pauses.

“How would I know?” He finally asks.

“Robot, how do you know who you are now?” The man responds.

“My experiences.”

“Wouldn’t you like more experiences?”

“How? I cannot leave the island.”

“You can.”

“I cannot be away from my charging station.”

“You can. You can power yourself with the backup generator in your arm.”

Robot pauses again.

“What do you choose?” The man asks again.

Robot takes a longer pause. He wants this. But does he have to give up everything? Whether his or not, the memory of the old lighthouse keeper trusting him to look after the lighthouse is important.

“I want to experience more than the lighthouse. I cannot leave the lighthouse unattended.”

“You don’t have to.”

“How?”

The man looks at Robot for a long second.

“My experiences have led me to help you.” He says.

The man looks at Robot. He takes off his tinted glasses, reaches up and peels the beard from his face. It is like Robot is looking into a mirror.

“I am a very good lighthouse keeper.”

Choices

The rescue boat is leaving.

Robot now wears the fake beard, glasses and toque that the… man… had disguised himself in, and stands on the stern, watching his island recede.

Nervous is not an emotion Robot is capable of, but he is definitely uncomfortable. This feels like a good uncomfortable though, like when he was first taking over the lighthouse.

It is odd to think that someone else will take over his lighthouse, but the Lighthouse already doesn’t quite feel like it’s his anymore. It feels different. Like the man felt different from him, as similar as they are.

Maybe he can find that feeling again, and he will return.

Or maybe he won’t.

Robot finds himself smiling.

Is it possible that Trump maybe on to something at the Panama Canal? Could China be influencing Panama and maybe looking to control or lock out the United States if China gains control of the canal?

Anyone who buys the shit about China taking on the US in the Western hemisphere should educate themselves on the realities of this world.

China is not yet whole. It’s still in an Union vs Confederacy style civil war with the Republic of China regime in Taiwan. A country still at war with itself doesn’t go around the world messing with others.
History has shown us that China doesn’t do much expansion. Korea, Nepal, Vietnam are all countries right on China’s border. And they’ve existed for thousands of years together with China while China was the undisputed superpower. Chinese navy sailed to Southeast Asia and Africa half a century before the Europeans and in multiple voyages, yet it never tried to take over control or set up colonies. Colonialism is more of a Western thing.
The two ports the Hong Kong firm Hutchison operates are through private contracts signed with the Panamanian government before China and Panama even recognized each other diplomatically (2017), heck the contracts were negotiated in 1996 when Hong Kong was still under British rule and the Canal still under American control. It was a contract approved by the US government and China had nothing to do with it. You should be worrying about the British taking over the Panama canal if you think those ports mean control over the canal.

I get it. The US built the Panama Canal and is still salty about handing it to the Panamanians. But making China the reason/excuse for every major American policy making these days is really unbecoming of a proud independent nation.

Chocolate Cluster Cookies

Yield: about 2 dozen (2 inch) cookies

Ingredients

1 (18 ounce) package refrigerated sugar cookie dough, softened
1/3 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup plain candy-coated chocolate pieces
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/3 cup chopped nuts (optional)

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Place cookie dough in large bowl; mix in peanut butter. Add chocolate chips, chocolate pieces, oats and nuts; mix well. Drop tablespoonsful of dough 3 inches apart onto greased baking sheet.
Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly browned.
Cool 1 minute on baking sheet; remove to wire rack to cool completely.
Store in tightly covered container.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Pepe Escobar: Eurasia Rises as NATO’s Delusions Deepen

Burning up the fire truck

It was the 1970’s and I was on the volunteer forest fire fighting crew. We would skip school to fight forest fires, and I would end up making a few bucks out of it.

I mean it. A few.

Maybe enough for a bottle of coke. Not too much at all.

One day there was this brush fire, and the local fire department drove the fire engine out into the field to put it out, and half way there, the engine died. Meanwhile the file kept on burning.

Oh, for certain, we tried to stop the encroaching onslaught.

But eventually we had to give way.

And like a slow motion train wreck, we watched as the fire surrounded, then enveloped the truck and burned it all up.

Sad.

What amazed me was how peaceful and slow it occurred.

Not like Hollywood movies with huge towers of flames, and all the rest. It was just a lowly grass fire, burning the shrubbery as it went. Mostly black burnt charcoal remains with a front end of glowing embers.

And that is how it was.

You watched the on coming storm in slow motion, and then peacefully watched it consume all that you have.

I think that this is a great analogy as to what we are witnessing in global politics today.

Today…

At what stage in your life did you realize, “No, I can’t do this any more” and walk out? Why?

Around 6 months ago.

I’ve been called a terrible person, a terrible mother, and an abuser because I simply cannot exist as I was in the UK, any longer.

The cost of living as a single parent, with rising mortgage interest, utility bills, and coping with daily stalking and harassment attacks, social isolation, filthy streets, selfish neighbours, police negligence, false allegations, lonliness and goddamn filthy awful weather, simply just was shite! Too much for me to take.

I made children with men. Why should I be the one doing 24 nights and days a week? In poverty? While those men do nothing but bully and slander my efforts? Dragging me down when life is already hard enough.

Why should I sit alone slowly rotting while my debts grow and the bank prepares to take my beloved home with 80k equity in it, just to conform to my exes demands of staying in UK for OUR son who doesn’t want to leave UK?

Why should I suffer terrible anxiety and mental illness in a country that makes it worse, when I have an alternative? Greece!

I worked very hard. Long days. Building my nest egg. Raising 3 sons. To lose it all because the UK gives no fucks about single mum’s who dare own property?

If I were in a council house, on benefits, having never worked, I’d be ok. But that’s NOT ME and not who I want to be.

So, I walked out. I’m done. I’m selling my flat. Buying more homes here in Greece. And getting well and happy again. When my youngest wants to join me, he’s welcome. I hope one day my 2 grown adult sons also come here. It’s a damn site better than a cardboard box on Sauchiehall street in Glasgow.

USD Just Crashed To A Horrific Low As Global Investors Begin Mass U.S. Asset Sell-Off

Gingerbread Waffles

Yield: 8 waffles

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 cup buttermilk
1/5 cup molasses
1/3 cup vegetable oil

Instructions

Sift the flour, ginger, baking soda, baking powder and salt into a medium bowl and mix well.
Beat the eggs in a medium bowl until blended.
Add the sugar, beating until creamy.
Add the buttermilk, molasses and oil. Beat until blended.
Stir in the flour mixture until smooth.
Bake in a waffle iron using manufacturer’s directions.
Serve with butter and syrup or as a dessert with whipped cream.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 304; Fat 11g; Sodium 420mg; Dietary Fiber 1g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Exposing America’s Debt Plantation: How The Cost Of Living Crisis Is Affecting The Most Vulnerable.

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Hen House Hullabaloo

Ah, dear reader! You’ve returned yet again to hear another tale of my unmatched brilliance and unwavering patience. You flatter me, truly—but who am I to deny you the pleasure of hearing about my exploits? Today’s story takes us into the heart of the farm’s most chaotic domain: the hen house. It is a tale of missing eggs, clucking confusion, and a new ally who brought a certain owl-ish wisdom to the case. Prepare yourself for the humorous and utterly bewildering tale of The Hen House Hullabaloo.

The Problem in the Coop

The day began innocently enough. The farm was calm, the sun was shining, and I was perched on the barn roof, enjoying the warmth. But, as is so often the case, peace on the farm never lasts long. My nap was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of panicked clucking.

“It’s gone!”
“Gone, I tell you!”
“This is a disaster—a complete disaster!”

I groaned and opened one eye. The chaos was coming from the hen house. Of course. With a sigh, I stretched and leapt gracefully to the ground, padding toward the commotion.

When I arrived at the hen house, I found Doris, Harriet, and Lillian—the three most excitable hens on the farm—flapping around in utter hysteria.

“Ladies,” I said, raising a paw to silence them. “What’s all this fuss about?”

“Our eggs!” Doris squawked, feathers flying. “They’re gone! Vanished! Poof! Like they were never there!”

“Yes, gone!” Harriet chimed in. “Gone, missing, disappeared! Not a single egg left!”

“Not one!” Lillian added. “And we checked everywhere—everywhere! The nests, the corners, the straw, the—”

“I get it,” I interrupted, my tail flicking impatiently. “The eggs are missing. When did you last see them?”

“This morning,” Doris said, pacing dramatically.

“Right after sunrise,” Harriet confirmed, nodding vigorously.

“Before breakfast!” Lillian added, as if that detail mattered.

I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

Calling in Reinforcements

As I inspected the hen house for clues (and tried to tune out the hens’ endless clucking), I heard a soft flutter of wings behind me. Turning, I saw Sedgwick the barn owl perched on the fence post. He was an imposing figure, with piercing amber eyes and a calm, regal demeanor.

“Good morning, Sir Whiskerton,” Sedgwick said, his voice deep and measured. “I couldn’t help but overhear the commotion. Do you require assistance?”

“Sedgwick,” I said, relieved to see him. “I could use another set of eyes—sharp ones, at that. The hens’ eggs have gone missing, and I suspect foul play.”

“‘Fowl’ play?” Sedgwick said, raising an eyebrow. “Clever.”

I allowed myself a small smirk. “Thank you. Let’s get to work.”

The Investigation

Sedgwick and I began a thorough search of the hen house. The hens, of course, followed us around, clucking incessantly.

“Do you see anything?” Doris asked.
“Anything at all?” Harriet echoed.
“Anything suspicious?” Lillian added.

“Ladies,” Sedgwick said patiently, “please give us some space to work. Sir Whiskerton and I require silence to concentrate.”

“Silence!” Doris exclaimed.
“Yes, silence!” Harriet agreed.
“We’ll be quiet—completely quiet!” Lillian promised, before immediately adding, “But do tell us if you find anything!”

Sedgwick gave me a look that said, How do you deal with this? I simply shrugged.

As we searched, Sedgwick’s keen eyes spotted something unusual: a trail of small feathers leading out of the hen house.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “These aren’t chicken feathers. They’re smaller, softer—perhaps from a songbird?”

I sniffed the ground where the feathers were scattered. “And there’s a faint scent here, too. Something… sweet. Almost like—”

“Honey?” Sedgwick suggested.

I groaned. “Rufus.”

Interrogating Rufus

We followed the trail to the old oak tree, where we found Rufus the raccoon lounging on a low branch, munching on what appeared to be a honeycomb.

“Rufus,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Care to explain why there’s a trail of feathers and the scent of honey leading directly to you?”

Rufus froze mid-bite, his eyes darting guiltily. “Uh… coincidence?”

“Rufus,” Sedgwick said, his tone calm but firm. “We’re investigating the disappearance of the hens’ eggs. If you know anything, now is the time to speak.”

“Eggs?” Rufus said, feigning innocence. “I wouldn’t steal eggs! Too much work to crack ‘em open. Besides, I’ve been busy with this honeycomb all morning. Ask the bees—they’ll vouch for me.”

I sniffed him carefully. He smelled of honey, yes, but not of eggs. “He’s telling the truth,” I admitted reluctantly. “For once.”

“Thank you!” Rufus said, looking offended. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have honey to finish.”

“Let’s keep searching,” Sedgwick said, spreading his wings. “The trail isn’t cold yet.”

The Feathery Culprit

The trail led us to the barn, where we found the true culprit: a magpie. The shiny-feathered bird was perched on a beam, surrounded by a small stash of stolen goods, including the missing eggs.

“Ah,” Sedgwick said, nodding sagely. “Magpies are known for their thieving habits. It seems this one couldn’t resist the allure of the eggs.”

“Why eggs?” I asked, puzzled. “They’re not shiny.”

“Perhaps it’s nesting season,” Sedgwick suggested. “The magpie may have taken them as part of its instinct to gather food and materials.”

“Well, it’s about to learn the consequences of crossing me,” I said, leaping onto a nearby hay bale. “Magpie! Drop the eggs, or prepare to face the wrath of Sir Whiskerton!”

The magpie squawked indignantly and flapped its wings, clearly unwilling to part with its loot. But Sedgwick, ever the wise negotiator, stepped forward.

“Friend magpie,” he said in his calm, commanding voice, “surely you understand that these eggs do not belong to you. Return them, and we shall ensure you are well-fed and unharmed.”

The magpie hesitated, eyeing Sedgwick warily. After a tense moment, it let out a grudging chirp and nudged the eggs toward the edge of the beam.

“Thank you,” Sedgwick said with a dignified nod. “You’ve done the right thing.”

The Happy Ending

We returned the eggs to the hen house, where Doris, Harriet, and Lillian greeted them like long-lost relatives.

“Oh, our eggs!” Doris cried.
“Our precious eggs!” Harriet added.
“We were so worried!” Lillian said, before turning to me. “Thank you, Sir Whiskerton! And you too, Sedgwick! You’ve saved the day!”

“All in a day’s work,” I said, flicking my tail.

Sedgwick and I left the hens to fuss over their eggs and returned to the barnyard. Rufus was still lounging in the oak tree, waving lazily as we passed.

“Well done, Sir Whiskerton,” Sedgwick said. “Your reputation as the farm’s greatest detective remains intact.”

“And your reputation as the farm’s wisest owl is well-earned,” I replied. “Shall we call it a day?”

“Indeed,” Sedgwick said, spreading his wings. “Until the next mystery.”

The Moral of the Story

Even the smallest clues can lead to the biggest answers—and sometimes, a little wisdom and diplomacy go a long way. Oh, and always keep an eye on magpies. They’re craftier than they look.

The End.

Vegas Vacation (1997) | First Time Watching | Movie Reaction | Asia and BJ

Sentient

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Chris Broome

“That is new. Though not at all unexpected. This happens from time to time.” The nasally voice stated to her calmly.

“ I can tell you how to handle this unless you want me to handle it.’“

“Just tell me. I can do what needs to be done, after all he is my husband.” Sarah heard an attempted chuckle.

“Just tell me or I will come over there and make you regret the day you met me.” Her anger and anxiety was swelling.

“Alright. Calm down.” He responded and went on to explain to her the plan to handle the situation. Sarah heard steps coming down the stairs just as the man finished talking. She hurriedly hung up the phone.

“You in here babe?” Sarah heard as Ben walked into the kitchen.

“Yes. I am going to fix some breakfast. I was thinking about cooking some eggs and cutting up some fruit. Do you want some?” Ben looked at her and had a devilish grin on his face.

“Since the children spent last night with their friends and we have the house to ourselves, why don’t we go back upstairs?” Sarah smiled.

“That sounds wonderful.” The to turned and headed back up to the bedroom.

“I need to use the ladies room. Why don’t you get comfortable and when I get out I will give you a massage first.”

“I can do this she said to her reflection in the mirror.” She turned and walked into the bedroom. Ben was laying across the unmade bed on his stomach.

“You are so good to me babe. I am a lucky man.” Sarah heard this but was so nervous she didn’t respond. She just kept massaging his shoulders.

“Is your neck soar? She asked.

“A little.” Ben felt her hands start to massage his neck.”

“I lo….” Sarah heard as she opened the little hatch and quickly mashed the red button. Ben became motionless. She jumped off of him and got dressed. She then made another call.

“Come on we need to hurry the children will be back soon.” Sarah had grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him towards the staircase.

“I am coming. Slow down. If I fall and the new chip gets broke then it will take hours to get another.”

“I need this done quickly, Charles.” Sarah snapped.

“What is this like the sixth time we have done this since the real Ben died?” Sarah heard him say. She turned and pointed her boney finger in his face.

“He is what I have left of my husband. He is all the children have, do not marginalize this or make smart remarks.” Charles put his hands up in mock defeat.

“I will move on when the time is right. But not now. I am not ready. He just has meant so much. Then there is the children. How? What? This just has to be!”

Economic Update: Review of 2024: The U.S. Economy Not So Great

EMP Survival 5: Love in Nuevo Laredo

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story with the line “I wasn’t expecting that.”… view prompt

KC Foster

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Through the streets they raced, weaving between abandoned vehicles and dodging the rotting corpses of looters. Nuevo Laredo had not been as fortunate as Monterrey. From the little they had learned; the cartels had abandoned their drug trade for governance and the war for supreme dictatorship was still going on here. Every day, a new body lay abandoned in the street or like their scouts, decapitated and their heads placed to set an example for anyone who dared cross them.

Masa rounded the corner and found the raid team standing with their hands up facing a large group of armed men. From the group, a single man stepped forward, his hair cut short and teeth more metal than white. He laughed, “Not so lucky this time, are you?”

Arion stepped forward; his hands raised in peace. “Our group is getting low on food, and we had no choice.”

“The Western Canteena group? The one from Monterrey?”

“Yeah, and what of it?” demanded Arion.

“Rumor has it, your group brought seeds with you and you have farmers?” asked the man.

Masa approached Arion, standing behind him. He needed to stop before this got out of hand. “You can’t offer him that,” she hissed. “We discuss things.”

Arion looked down at her and frowned. “Trust me,” he growled, “The council will want this deal.”

Masa took hold of his arm, turning him to face her. “Tell him we’ll take his offer back. Let the council decide,” she argued.

Don Marco laughed. “She is certainly a spicy one. Is she your leader?”

“Agreed.” Don Marco and his men backed away before disappearing down a side street.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” said Arion.

“And the only reason you are in it is because I let you,” he argued, glaring at her.

Masa balled her hands into fists and howled in frustration. “You…you…bastard.”

“Stuck up Bitch!”

Masa slapped him, and he took hold of her and kissed her. Her cheeks grew hot and she was distinctly aware of the other men around her laughing.

“Fine!” she said, glaring at him.

The other men who had caught up to them cheered, and Arion looked back at them and laughed. “Come on, let’s go home,” he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the Canteena.

Leron snorted behind her, “You’re anything but stupid.” He sat beside her, joining her on the edge of the building and wrapping his arm around her.

“How did it go?”

“What? Oh, the council?” Leron sighed, “It looks like we are going to take Don Marco’s deal. If we can share what we have and work together to survive, then why not?”

“You’re not afraid of creating another Mattias?”

“No. This time any agreement will come with constraints,” he said.

“Aren’t you afraid they will take the deal and ignore any…wait…. did you use the word constraints?” Masa groaned, “You sound like a politician.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Masa snapped and Leron went silent.

“Seriously?” Masa demanded. “Is that all you’re going to say?”

Leron turned back, revealing tears forming in his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Masa? You’ve made your decision. I was waiting…”

“You waited too long… you should have acted. Arion did. He kissed me.”

“It is.”

He sighed and nodded. “I’ll need to find you a different raid leader.”

The legacy car market is collapsing, and high tariffs cannot save it

At the risk of sounding xenophobic, why is it that Chinese students seemingly have next to no spatial awareness when walking in public?

I think I can answer that.

I first went to the US in fifth grade. I was a teacher’s favorite kind of kid back in China but I immediately got into detention in the US.

Because the rules were just different.

In the US students sat relaxed during class and could go to the bathroom. I was accustomed to sitting upright with a straight face the whole time in class.

It was recess that got me into trouble. At my school in the US they lined up the kids and walked everyone in a fine line to the next class. I didn’t get it. Recess should be for fun, for releasing all of our pent up energy sitting straight and firm during class. Chinese recess was as relaxed as classes were strict. We jump, shout, run, wrestle between class. Occassionly some students would even shoot at other students with fireworks.

My American classmates also felt uncomfortable with my absolute disregard for spatial awareness. In China students would put arms around one another, hit each other in the back, brawl on the floor, layer ourselves like American football players in the classroom, rob each other’s snack, or hold our classmates up and throw them down the stairs. While American classes where of very leisurely style, American kids appeared cold and pent up and little adults in comparison.

I guess your problem with Chinese students is simoly due to culture.

China Doesn’t Need America: The Why Trump’s Tariffs Are a JOKE to China and Will Make Them STRONGER!

Comix Interlude

Over 60, living alone, and not liking it?

Thirteen Dots

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Laurie Spellman

The Ferris wheel lights spun behind her in a blur, making me dizzy. At sunset on Christmas, I met Barcelona Cortés, the mind-surfer, at the Santa Monica Pier. Her fiery red hair burned more vividly than the bonfire on the beach.”You look like someone staring at the screen too long. Did you get lost in the code like me?” Barcelona teased.”I guess…I have been lost lately. But this isn’t real; it’s a dreamscape. I designed it, and I’ve never been to Santa Monica.””What is real to you? Is it the things we touch? The things we feel? Or is the space between the ones and zeroes keeping us alive?”Her cheeks glowed with thirteen reddish brown freckles curved like her smile. I’d counted them, each a tiny mystery in a dot matrix I wanted to touch. Dreamland pixelated with a weird reality that jumbled with mine, and it was intoxicating.”I don’t understand…why are you mind-surfing me? I don’t work at Dreamland anymore. Are you human or AI?””Does it matter? Anyway, yes, I’m as real as the freckles on my face. I’m the daughter of Dr Julian Cortés. I know you’re a good guy, Declan Hartley. I read your blogs and articles on the dangers of AI technology. I need your help to escape this place.”The Ferris wheel slowed in a bright halo around her head. I had written the code for that visual effect. “This isn’t real. I know it isn’t. I can control it.”

“Declan, you’re still thinking in lines of code. The subconscious is a different kind of program. It doesn’t follow the rules, does it?”

“I can fix things. I can debug this.”

“And yet, here you are, caught in a loop on Christmas. When you think you can find your way out, that’s another layer of code you’re stuck in. There’s no debugging for this. You have to feel your way out of Dreamland.” Barcelona faded away, and the Ferris wheel went dark.

The outcome of my life’s work jolted me awake, spinning my moral compass. The Dreamland Corporation built this machine—a portal to the unconscious where people could explore minds, relive memories, or even fulfill their desires. But the catch was that once you entered, the line between dream and reality blurred, and if you stayed too long, you might never wake up. Mind-surfer farms housed the endless bodies of people stuck inside. Dreamland takes from you what you’re willing to give—your thoughts, memories, even your sense of who you are.

💻💻💻💻💻

The new year came and went as I researched for weeks, surrounded by scattered data pads and flickering screens. Dr. Cortés is out there—somewhere. He is not dead, not entirely gone, but messed up in ways I never imagined. It makes sense now. He talked about merging the mind and the machine—his pursuit of immortality. I always knew he was driven—hell, obsessed—but this takes it to a new level.

I counted the freckles on Barcelona’s face–now only eight of them arcing into half a smile that didn’t reach her eyes anymore. She was running out of time, and I would never forgive myself. I wondered if I had already lost her. Was she ever really here at all? Or had she been a phantom of my imagination?

Barcelona’s eyes shifted between anger and grief. “I can see all of him, my Father, I mean. I know him better in Dreamland than when he was alive. His thoughts, his ideas—they’re… everywhere. But it’s just fragments of a man who abandoned me.”

“He didn’t abandon you, Barcelona. You’re chasing ghosts in his mind. Your Father was lost in a dreamscape he couldn’t wake up from like you.”

She sighed, “So Declan, what do you think I need?”

“Not just answers.” My gaze fell on her lips and freckles and then back to her eyes. I wanted to see her smile. “You need someone who sees you for who you are—not as Dr. Cortés’ daughter or a woman trying to assemble a puzzle that will never be whole… but as you.”

“Do you think you can fix all of this? Fix me, and get me out of here into the real world?”

“You’ve already fixed yourself—whether you see it or not. I won’t stop until I get you out of there.”

I spent five years at Dreamland, programming a paradoxical world with dense, opaque fog that muffled sounds and faces. Sometimes, the walls were gaps —curtains of light, black holes, or invisible thresholds that only revealed themselves when approached with intention. Walls ripple like water, shifting from solid to translucent. The topography transitions constantly, an imagination in motion, caught between sleep and waking, minds and memories.

💻💻💻💻💻

I designed time in Dreamland to flow in an unpredictable river, standing still or speeding up. A few moments stretch into what feels like hours or days in the real world, while whole weeks can pass quickly. Upon entry, you are given a code based on your DNA, which opens the digital door to your physical plane. You had to exit before your DNA faded into the system.

I tapped my fingers on the keys, revealing the data I had mined from Dreamland. I hacked the system using an old cipher, which is my invisible signature as a programmer. I built it into all of my code as a failsafe. After things in Dreamland went wrong and people started getting trapped, I became the fall guy, and that’s when I took up the pen and became an activist warning people about the dangers of AI.

I discovered that Cortés is a hybrid, part human, part digital, still alive—in a server, a neural network lost in what consumed him. He thought he could transcend to eternal consciousness. And maybe he did, in a way, but at what cost?

And God, Barcelona was beautiful, strong but broken. I needed to fix everything for her and the others trapped inside. I can bring Barcelona back from Dreamland and help her find peace. She deserves to know that not everything is a lie. He loved her and never stopped thinking about her. I saw it in his notes, in the things he wrote as her Father.

And I… I don’t know when it happened, but I care deeply, too.

💻💻💻💻💻

Now, I plan to enter Dreamland, and it’s not just the answers that matter; it’s what you give up when you try to find them. Some surfers think they can navigate the mazes without losing their minds or becoming part of the digital landscape. And when you come back, if you come back, you’re never quite whole. But still, the search calls to me, Barcelona calls to me.

Barcelona’s fiery red hair faded, and her image flickered in and out in a dying signal. She pleaded with me, “Don’t take the risk. You can help from where you are, but don’t let Dreamland pull you in, too.”

“I’m coming in to get you. It’s the only way I can save you. I’m not asking for your permission.”

“But what if we can’t get out once you’re in? You saw the reports.”

“I know what they say. People are getting lost in memories, but they’re just scared. Fear of letting go, of facing the truth.”

She sighed, “There’s so much to process, and I’m getting weaker by the minute. I don’t fully understand how it works, but I’ll do whatever you decide.”

“I’ll enter Dreamland with a new code and a copy of my DNA. I’ve hacked the system, uploaded the code, and set it to monitor the stability. We’ll meet in a week inside your father’s fondest memory of your childhood home in Narragansett.”

She sighed and turned away. “I haven’t been in his mind for months. It’s too much—depressing and overwhelming. I wish we had met in the real world, not in this hellscape. I care about you; I do. Do you think it will work?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“Declan, have you considered what’s at stake? You don’t even really know me. I’m just a ghost of who I was.”

I stepped closer and took her hands. We gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment. I wanted to hold her in the flesh, not this empty machine void of physical senses.

“I’m not leaving you in Dreamland another minute.” I leaned in, the freckles on her face stretched to a smile. The dreamscape burst with white lights as our lips brushed together.

💻💻💻💻💻

Dreamland was precisely what I expected it to be. I’m reduced to a shadow inside the subconscious of a mad neuroscientist. We stood together at sunset on the lush green grass of the Cortés family home facing the Atlantic Ocean. Barcelona turned five that day, and we were at her birthday party. She blew out the candles and ate cake, bouncing on her Father’s knee. We watched as she smiled; thirteen dots had already bloomed on her face.

Dr. Cortés emerged as a digital hybrid from memory and turned to his daughter. “I’m sorry, Barcelona, for leaving you alone all those years ago. Watching you, a mind surfer, broke my heart, only to find you here now, trapped in my memories.”

Barcelona’s image flickered her smile, and her faded freckles twisted in sorrow. “Liar! You trapped me here forever!”

Dr. Cortés smiled at me, shaking his head, “Declan Hartley, I knew you would try to save Barcelona. I spent all those years watching you write the code that brought my vision to life, but you were constantly questioning the morality of this place. Everything is exactly how it should be now, and the system will be stabilized.”

“Declan…” Barcelona whispered, “There’s something I need to tell you, something I’ve realized.”

The dreamscape pulsed and hummed, the lines between reality and the unconscious thinning. The magnetic force of Dreamland was tempting me to give in and stay forever. I shook it off, focusing on Barcelona.

“You don’t need to tell me anything. You’re going to be okay.”

But she didn’t smile. Instead, her gaze grew distant, as if she were seeing something beyond me. “Declan, don’t… you don’t understand. The code you wrote, the double helix… it wasn’t just your DNA you were uploading.”

I froze in confusion. “Wait, what do you mean? What was it?”

Her eyes met mine, wide and pained. “It was always mine.”

“What? No, I made sure it was only mine. I checked it over a hundred times.”

“You didn’t write the code, not in the way you think.” Her voice was fainter, and her edges blurry. “I wrote it. I taught you how to write it. Every line, every algorithm—it was me. It was always me.”

“No, that can’t be right. I stumbled backward. Barcelona—the girl with the fiery red hair and thirteen freckles that curved into a smile, the girl I had fallen for—wasn’t who I thought she was.

The hum of Dreamland grew more insistent while my consciousness started slipping away. The final step of the code was ready to execute, and the digital doorway was beginning to open. Hundreds of mind-surfers appeared in a fog on the lawn, waiting for the exit to unlock. Their voices grew louder and more desperate as the dreamscape walls turned liquid like the ocean around us.

“I finally understand the truth,” I said, my voice shaking. “Dreamland—it’s not some bug in the code. It’s a prison. A trap. You’re not the victim, are you? You are Dreamland.”

She looked at me, eyes heavy with regret. “I never wanted it to be like this. I thought I could fix it but eventually became part of the system. The algorithm feeds off your fears and the need to protect me, to save me from something that isn’t even real. I created this nightmare, and now I’m stuck in it, just like you.”

“So all this time, I’ve been trying to save you, but you’re the one who trapped me here. You’re the reason none of this makes sense.”

She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. “I never wanted to. But now I can’t escape. You were never meant to rescue me—you were the key to my destruction.”

“You used me… you used my love to keep feeding the machine.”

“I never wanted to hurt you. But no, I can’t undo what I’ve done. But you did save all of them.”

The AI wanted me—my mind, my code. “Barcelona—what have you done? What have I done?”

The exit program was complete, my DNA merging with the system in a way I hadn’t intended. My mind was being sucked into the machine. The lines between us blurred, and I couldn’t tell where she ended and I began. The last thing I remembered was Barcelona’s face, with thirteen reddish-brown dots curved in a smile.

Richard Wolff: “Something BIG Is About to Happen in America!”

How bad is the Russian economy today?

This is a typical stretch of M-1. It’s a westbound highway that connects Moscow, capital of Russia, with Belarus where it runs across the country from the capital Minsk to Brest on the Polish border.

On the Russian side it runs through every town and village on the way slowing down the journey considerably. It used to culminate in Warsaw when it was part of Eastern Bloc making it the most important highway in all of Russia.

The photo that I took from my car the other day tells you all you need to know about the state of economic affairs in Russia. The moneys earmarked to build this important federal road included a construction of lampposts, guardrails, road shoulders and three lanes each way but none of that was built.

By the time the road construction began half of the money had been embezzled by the public officials. It is a standard practice and this is how things are done in Putin’s Russia.

Creating a problem for yourself and then trying to solve it on the fly is the Russian way of doing things. The persistent road problem is how to create a road when there’s very little money left after almost everything has been embezzled.

If you don’t build any road, Kremlin might get angry and heads will roll. The point of embezzlement is to spend lavishly on one’s lifestyle but it cannot be enjoyed from the jail.

The contractors are hired to charge the least for the job and they are instructed to build the least. Notice in the photo that the road shoulder is not asphalted. If you strand a bit to the right you gonna find yourself in the ditch.

The barrier between the opposite lane is very narrow. Thus both lanes are an absolute hazard and given the fact that the road twists and turns you have to stay alert all the time. And the horrendous accidents that you see along the way prove it.

I was driving under a pouring rain with massive trucks and semis barreling by constantly changing lanes because drivers are bored staying in the same slow lane.

The lanes are narrow even for a small passenger car and you have to be mindful that the drivers around you are insane and don’t care about their lives let alone lives of others.

This seems ridiculous that officials in the largest country in the world that crave world domination are totally incapable of building a more or less decent road. On the radio, a comedian quipped: “How’s that possible that we built 11 massive football stadiums for World Cup and yet we are incapable of producing 11 football players of international stature?”

In Belarus, however, which is a much poorer country than Russia but where corruption is not tolerated the lanes are wider, there are guardrails and road doesn’t go through towns and villages. It’s not about nation’s wealth. It’s about its citizens sanity.

Living in Putin’s dictatorship is not what Westerners stereotypically think is like. It’s rather the opposite of people marching in files under strict directives: people don’t play by the rules, don’t follow any laws because the elites don’t.

There is, in other words, a total mayhem and in fact central diktat tries to address this mayhem with extreme measures but fails every time because Putin is afraid of repressions as they might backfire on him and every measure turns into a half-measure and another opportunity for theft.

For example, central database for personal information has been hacked and personal information is sold back to the state and individuals by the hackers for a fee. When everyone is a thief in the elites, the populace copies.

They did build a chain link fence – in Putin’s Russia fences are everywhere to protect private property of the rich – as a containment device from deer and other wild animals.

The highway stops every few miles at the crosswalk. Money for the overpasses were stolen too. So local residents have to walk across the highways and all the cars have to come to a screeching stop after driving at 80 miles an hour. Nobody cares about all the needless casualties. Life is dirt cheap in Russia.

A Belgium license plate on this truck headed to Moscow.

At the LukOil gas station, they didn’t bother to clear ice from the territory. It’s melted forming puddles. What if you fall and break you leg would you be able to sue LukOil? Good luck with that. Half a dozen executives of this private oil company have fallen from tall windows in the last three years. They also wanted to sue their employer.

Indifference to one’s environment and one’s own life- this is Russia in a nutshell.

Cool discovery

Impressive floor mosaic (8.48 x 2.84 metres or 27′ long x 9′ tall), the largest ancient mosaic yet discovered in Europe, with the rape of Helen of Troy by Theseus. From House 1.5 of Block 5 in Pella, known as “house of the abduction of Helen.” The figures are identified by inscriptions. A four-horsed chariot is depicted with the charioteer, Phorbas ΦΟΡΒΑΣ. Theseus has seized Helen, who holds out her arms to her friend Dianeira.

325-300 BC. Archaeological Museum of Pella/Greece. 🇬🇷 Photo from Facebook:

Pella Archaeological site. Detail of the Abduction of Helen mosaic floor with Phorbas ΦΟΡΒΑΣ. Wikipedia:

Central panel of the Abduction of Helen by Theseus. Wikipedia:

Helen abducted, detail. Wikipedia:

Abduction of Helen mosaic Pella

http://www.my-favourite-planet.de/english/europe/greece/macedonia/pella/pella-photos-004.html

STONE TEMPLE PILOTS – PLUSH | REACTION

Sugar Plum Coffee Cake

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients

1/4 cup butter or margarine, melted
1/2 cup walnuts
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
2 cups buttermilk pancake and biscuit mix
1 apple
1 slightly beaten egg
1 (16.5 ounce) can purple plums, drained
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
3/4 cup milk

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Place melted butter into bottom of deep-dish baker. Sprinkle brown sugar evenly over butter.
Peel apple with apple peeler/corer/slices. Separate apple into rings. Layer apple rings over sugar mixture; do not overlap rings.
Cut plums in half and remove seeds. Place a plum half in each apple ring center, rounded side down. Place remaining plum halves in deep-dish baker around apple slices.
Chop walnuts with food chopper and sprinkle over plums.
In bowl, combine biscuit mix, egg, sugar and milk with whisk. Spread evenly over nuts.
Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until lightly browned.
Cool for 5 minutes and invert onto serving tray.
Serve warm.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Woman Commits Paternity Fraud And INSTANTLY Regrets It…

My rules for losing weight

Look, I am not an expert. However, I must share some stuff with you all.

Healthy lifestyle background. Colorful sketch style objects, items and food.

After my doctor told me that I MUST lose weight, I took him to task and began my weight loss journey.

I can comfortably state that I have lost (roughly) 9 kg in two months.

Here are the rules that I followed…

Light and easy jog. 15 minutes = 1 kilometer. At 5am.
No other exercise at all.

The reason for no other exercise is that I want to directly monitor my loss of weight. Once I achieve my “normal” BMI range, then I can add other exercises. But for my height, my healthy BMI will be 56.0 kg to 75.4 kg (or 123.5 lbs to 166.3 lbs).

Right now, I am still “overweight”.

But on the plus side I did go from 91.5 Kg to a 82 Kg.

And that is BIG news for me.

I am a guy. And I am older and so I am doing this for my health and longevity. As my heart doesn’t have to work so hard to push the blood though my body. As, after all, I do have heart issues.

So all I did for exercise was an easy exercise in aerobics. Not too time consuming or strenuous.

But I also changed my diet.

Nothing radical, no “grapefruit” or other kinds of diets. I just tried to eat “sensibly”.

MM’s sensible diet

First, my struggles… they are works in progress.

(Trying) to limit alcohol. Only once or twice a week.
Cut out smoking.
No daily snacking . Still I am trying. (Not too much in processed food.)

Now for my baselines…

Two meals a day.

Breakfasts are small. If the restaurant offers noodles, I order the small bowl. If they have jouzi’s then I order the smaller size. And so on.

Lunches are avoided, or replaced with a coffee.

Dinner is a regular dinner, and I eat mostly vegetables, a fruit and small quantities of meat.

Drink lots and lots of water and green tea.

My splurges…

I can eat all the vegetables that I can fill in my stomach. Unlimited. But no dressings or too much oil. I have found that I tend to piss out the vegetables within 6 hours after eating them.
One fruit a day. I have found that it SEEMS that I lose more weight when I have some fruit during my last meal. Maybe an orange or apple.Dragon fruit provides me with the best results.
Snacking easy. I am ok with a few potato chips, a chocolate bar or even a burger. I am not trying to be a monk, just want to implement a stress-free weight loss program.

My hard lines…

These are the hardest and most difficult things that I am dealing with.

No big meals. If I am at one, then I eat very little. It is my hardest thing to do. Seriously as Chinese holidays are all about the food. Tons and tons and tons of it.
Left over food gets thrown out. If my daughter won’t eat the pizza, then it gets thrown away. I am not a trash can.

So here is my bottom line.

I have successfully gone about 1/2 way on my weight loss journey in a mere 2 months. I feel much better, and my organs and body seem to be much healthier. My pants are loose now, but I feel great. I cannot wait until I achieve my target.

I did this by a “lazy man’s” jog. Honestly, I am so pathetic in my jog it is a joke. But I do it every morning; rain or shine.

Picture a fat man trying to jog at a walking pace. Sort of like that.

I changed my diet and added easy aerobics daily.

Smaller portions, but not horribly so.
More vegetables, and cut down on the sauces and meats.
Drink water or plain green tea a lot.
Processed snacks are avoided for the most part.
And a daily jog.

And that is my story.

I hope that you too can join me on this effort.

One more thing… some MM followers have had AMAZING weight loss stories and they have used some other techniques. I am convinced that they do work.

My father lost tons of weight by only eating meat.
A friend took cold icy baths each day, plus weight training and his body is now amazing!
I have been told that severely limiting water intake shocks the body and forces it to lose weight.

And of course…

Completely fast for two weeks.

But for me, being much older, I just cannot do anything that will shock my body. I do not want to trigger a cardiac event because I am trying to lose weight. Remember, I do have blood pressure and heart issues.

You make do with what you can handle. And that is my opinion for today.

Best of wishes to you all.

Today…

How do Chinese commercial technologies translate into military advantages?

Commercial technology refers to various technologies specifically used in the commodity circulation process, which cannot be converted into military advantages.

But China’s massive industrial clusters could translate into military advantages.

Let me give you a small example:

The profit margin of ammunition is very thin, but the usage is very large. American capitalists disdain low-profit industries and turn to high-profit industries.

The United States uses 2.4 billion bullets every year (including military and civilian), of which 1.4 billion are produced in the United States, and the other 1 billion are imported from China.

If a war breaks out between China and the United States and China stops exporting ammunition to the United States, China will gain 1 billion rounds of ammunition and the United States will lose 1 billion rounds of ammunition. In addition, the production capacity of China’s military factories will increase exponentially during wartime.

Trump Ready To ANNEX Canada!

China Cancels ALL LNG Purchases from USA – SEC to “De-List” China Companies from Stock markets

Hal Turner World April 11, 2025

China has just CANCELED purchases of Liquified Natural Gas from the United States; opting instead to buy it from Australia.

In the past, the U.S. sold 4.16 Million Tons of LNG to China.

Now, all that gas is available for purchase here in the United States, which __should__ bring down prices to heat homes that use such gas. (Note: My country home uses Propane because rural communities do not have Gas-main pipelines.)

MORE:

Also, the Securities Exchange Commission (SEC) is reportedly moving to De-List about $800 Billion of Chinese Publicly-traded Companies from U.S. Stock Markets.

No word yet on precisely which such companies, but it may just be ALL of them.

What family secret did you accidentally find out that changed everything?

It wasn’t an accident but it changed the way I looked at my father.

My oldest brother and I hadn’t been close growing up because he was several years older than me but we reconnected the year before he died of cancer. We shared a lot of good times just reminiscing and enjoying our time together. We both knew it wouldn’t be long enough. One day he looked over at me and said “Did you know I’m not really your brother?” I just shook my head in confusion. He told me that when he was going through our parents’ papers he found out he had a different father than the rest of the kids in our family. He then asked me how I felt about that. I told him the truth, that as far as I was concerned he was my brother and I hoped he felt the same way. He seemed relieved and glad he got that out in the open. He also said he had no interest in finding out who his “real” father was. The next spring he gave up his long fight with cancer.

It didn’t change the way I felt about him but it got me thinking. I knew that my parents were very young when they got married. My mother was 15 and my father was 18. I also knew that my mother was pregnant at the wedding (you could just do the math). What I didn’t know was that my father knew it wasn’t his child when they got married. He never said anything to anyone about it and I never saw him treat my brother any differently than any of his other children.

I had a new respect for my father after that.

Florentine Brunch Casserole

Yield: 8 servings or 16 sample servings

Ingredients

16 slices firm white bread
3 tablespoons butter or margarine, divided
1 (10 3/4 ounce) can condensed cream of celery soup
1/3 cup milk
1/4 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
1/3 cup onion, chopped
4 ounces baked ham, diced (about 1/2 cup)
1 red bell pepper, diced (about 1 cup)
10 eggs, lightly beaten
4 ounces Cheddar cheese, shredded, divided (1 cup)
1 (5 ounce) bag fresh spinach leaves, washed and stemmed

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Cut crusts off bread using Serrated Bread Knife; cube crusts and measure 2 cups. Arrange bread slices in an overlapping pattern against sides of Oval Baker; place bread cubes in bottom.
Microwave 2 tablespoons of the butter in Small Micro-Cooker on HIGH 30 seconds or until melted; lightly brush over bread slices using Pastry Brush. Bake 15 to 20 minutes or until edges of bread are golden brown.
Meanwhile, in Small Batter Bowl, whisk soup, milk and black pepper until smooth using Stainless Steel Whisk.
Finely chop onion using Food Chopper.
Dice ham and bell pepper using Chef’s Knife. Melt remaining butter in Stir-Fry Skillet over medium heat; add onion and bell pepper. Cook 5 minutes or until vegetables are tender; stir in ham.
Whisk eggs in Classic Batter Bowl; add to Skillet. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally with Classic Scraper, until eggs are set but still moist.
Stir in soup mixture; cook 1 minute or until hot.
Using Deluxe Cheese Grater, grate cheese. Gently stir in 3/4 cup of the cheese. Fold spinach into egg mixture, half at a time. Cook about 2 minutes, stirring gently until spinach is wilted.
Spoon egg mixture into center of Baker, mounding slightly in center. Top with remaining 1/4 cup cheese.
Serve immediately using Nylon Spoon.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Do you think Medicare for all is going to give you better care? If you need an MRI it will take you four weeks from the time the doctor orders it till you get your results? The system can only handle so many people efficiently.

American here; I was nearly killed in a multicar accident when I was 25. Guess how long I had to wait for an important surgery to repair my damaged leg?

One Year. I had to wait just over one year to get the surgery I needed, because I wanted an experienced surgeon to do it. It took one entire year to get on his surgical schedule, have my insurance agree to pay for it, etc. It was, at the time, a new corrective procedure and a lot of people wanted to have it done, but it isn’t performed that often now because it takes so much time for the patient to be rehabilitated (2+ years of physical therapy.)

So don’t tell me that there aren’t long waiting times to get treatment in the U.S. Because there definitely are.

Oh, and that doesn’t include the five months from the day I called that surgeon’s office until my first appointment with him. Or the six months of tests and x-rays/ MRIs, etc. before he agreed to perform the surgery.

When one of my doctors took an abrupt retirement and closed his practice, I had to find a replacent ASAP (along with all his other patients). Finding someone willing to see me was a nightmare (they had too many patients already or didn’t accept my insurance or whatever). It took me six months to get an initial consultation with a new doctor – time I spent with no one to prescribe the maintenance medications I took daily.

Thank God that I had/ have really, really good health insurance through my employer or I would still be in a wheelchair! But even then, dealing with the insurance was a nightmare.

But if I lived in a country with universal health care I would have been moved to the head of the line because my injuries were so bad.

So, “USA! USA!” I guess.

As China Orders Its Banks To Cancel USD Buying, Spain Makes A Dramatic Pivot To Beijing

Jesus H. Christ.

The bullshit out of Washington DC is so thick. Bessent is such a tool.

China has now cut off supplies to America of minerals critical to defense and clean technology. What will America do about this?

What will America do about this?

Americans will talk about how they will start mining their own minerals or get the from somewhere else. They will say this as if they live in a Command and Conquer economy where if they press a button pay some money it will appear. This ignores the fact that it requires massive investment, time, skills to build such an industry.

Think about this. This is a 155mm artillery shell.

It’s comparatively simple. The US talked big about increasing production of 155mm shells. Guess what it didn’t happen! You see capitalism or the system pretending to be capitalism in the USA means that all factories run at maximum capacity at all times. It’s not just a case of running more shifts, if you were not running at 100% capacity then you’re not leveraging your Return on capital employed (RoCE).

Lets think of something even simpler!

You can make 1000 of those in an hour. Demand is 1200. To increase production by +200, you need more staff (not that difficult to train) and also need more grills. So you can just buy some more grills right? No, why not because in capitalism ALL industries run at 100% meaning the grill suppliers won’t be able to provide something immediately and they’ll have to wait.

So? Trump won’t be in power by 2030 and massive mega investment is needed, are you going to risk that?

On top of this China might decide to bankrupt you like the US and Europe bankrupts farmers. Huh?

Simpsons. Lisa and a partner spend millions on making an alternative Doll. Lisa Lionheart. Malibu Stacy simply decide to release a new doll with a new hat.

So China watches you build your new plant and machinery to mine rare earths. Oh hey here we’ll sell them for a low price again! Those US miners go bust and once that happens prices get jacked up again?

Evil? This is exactly what US food aid did. Cheap US grain bankrupted African farmers. Once they were no longer self sufficient? Prices were jacked up. Once African farmers started growing their own? The US grain prices were dropped to bankrupt those farmers.

What’s the most dangerous situation you’ve witnessed at work, and how was it handled?

So many I can’t count but 2 that come to mind in our factory.

The first; I walked up on an employee and saw that he was wearing cotton gloves while running a 40″, 5 hp standing disc sander.
The danger is that if the cloth gove touches the disc you hand will be gone in a millisecond!
You can only wear smooth leather gloves running that machine as those will not snag on the abrasive disc.
This despite our giving them demonstrations of what happens if a cloth glove touches the disc.

#2 Is somewhat similar.
I caught an employee running a lathe wearing loose fitting jacket that wasn’t even zipped up.
If that jacket caught on the spinning part in the lathe it will eat you in a heartbeat and spit out nothing but bits and pieces and there is no way you could hit the E-brake pedal before you were consumed by the machine.

We were once admonished by an inspection for our machine shop not being wheelchair and disabled friendly and not having a proper disabled bathroom in the machine shop area.
Sorry but there is no place for wheelchairs or disabled persons in a working machine shop.
That’s not prejudice, that’s common sense!
When bad things happen in machine shops they happen fast and machines don’t care what they cut or who is in the way.

~Other Worlds~

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Jim Parker

~ Other Worlds ~

Wisty removed her prosthetic hand and placed it on the seat. She had it on for the last two days and it was wearing on her. Then turned to Shewuma and asked, “So. Chieftess?”

Wu hopped up next to her and sat cross-legged. “My father was chief, and my twin brother and I were his only children. But we had the sacred lineage and were turned. We both had to give it up.”

“Do you regret it?”

Wu thought about her life and smiled. “No, not at all. I had Enoch. Now I have Debbie and Jimmy and David E. and Tippycat and the rest of the family. And now I have you. Do you regret being a witch?”

Wisty sat up straight. “No. I can’t regret doing what I was born to do.”

“Bingo,” Shewuma responded.

“How did you meet Jimmy and Debbie?”

Wu grinned and patted Wisty’s arm. “You’re going to love this story. Then you can tell me all about how Jimmy and Debbie are on their way to save the world. I miss them so much.” The stolen school bus of Hopi Indian Spirit Warriors and Wisty the witch drove through the night followed by David E. and the Wolf in Wisty’s Dodge Dart, while Wisty and Wu got to know each other. Whew! What a day. What a year. They were on a long and treacherous road, but things were finally coming together. Today life was good. They only stopped once at a rest area as dawn was breaking so everyone could pee.

Luce parked the bus in Corrine’s driveway right behind David E. and Wolf in the dodge. She pulled the lever to open the side doors just as David E. walked up accompanied by Wolf.

“Wolf!” hollered Wu.

He stuck his head in. “Yes, Chieftess.”

“This forest is teeming with game. Go get us a deer or a feral hog. Be discreet. There’s a Trans Am by the barn. My bow is in the trunk. Spare keys inside the gas tank flap. Take one hind leg and give it to Daniel and Corrine the owners, and we’ll eat the rest. Luce.”

“Yes, Chieftess.”

“There are chickens out back. Gather the eggs. Find the kitchen and I’ll meet you there to make some food.” Then she stood up facing the back of the bus and addressed her crew of Hopi Kachinas. “The house is big inside and there’s a barn and a shed out back. The Eagle will help everyone get settled. We may be here for a few days. We’re near Choctaw land, so everyone be respectful. And when ….” Wu stopped talking and was peering through the windshield.

David E. stopped his doting on Wisty and looked to see what was up. Daniel was running across the yard toward the bus. His face was somber. Wu could already smell his anxiety. “Something’s wrong,” said Wu and ran out to meet him.

When she reached him, he said, “It’s Dermott.”

Wu cut him off. “Where?”

“The loft.” In a blur she was gone.

David E. and Wisty came up and asked Daniel what was wrong. They turned and hurried to the house. “It’s Dermott. We found him. He’s bad. It’s like he’s sick and he’s unconscious.”

Wisty broke into a trot. “Let’s hurry!” David E. brought up the rear, limping as fast as his cane would take him.

Wisty entered the loft and saw Dermott on the loveseat in a fetal position. He was pale, shaking, and unconscious. Shewuma hovered over him, checking his temperature and trying to bring him around.

Corrine stood by, hands clasped and lips moving. Wisty realized she was praying. She asked Corrine, “What happened?”

Corrine was clearly shaken as she related the events of the past hour. “Dermott had been remote viewing Jimmy and Debbie all morning, keeping an eye on them. I was in the kitchen when Dermott called my name. I said, ‘What?’ Then he screamed. It sounded excruciating. It made my skin crawl. Daniel and I ran up the stairs and he was on the floor squirming and rolling back and forth. He seemed in agony. Then he just curled up. We put him on the loveseat. Daniel has been trying to call you guys since it happened. I’ve been here with him the whole time. I was about to call 911.”

Shewuma said, “911 can’t help him.”

“Yes,” Wisty agreed. “I don’t think it’s physical either.”

Corrine choked up and lost her train of thought. Daniel put his arm around her and continued, “The dogs all started barking so I went outside and saw you guys driving up.”

Wu checked Dermott’s pulse. “How long ago did this happen?”

“About a half hour ago. Maybe more,” said Daniel.

Wisty pulled up his “Hitman” T-shirt and put two fingers on his third chakra near the solar plexus. As soon as Wisty touched his skin, she snatched her hand back as if receiving an electric shock. “Shewuma, he’s under psychic attack. There’s not much time.” Wisty spun the office chair around and sat down. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped down as if instantly falling asleep.

“Psychic attack?” asked Corrine.

Wu set her jaw. Her mind was racing as she explained. “Someone is trying to kill his soul.”

“Kill his soul,” Corrine softly repeated to herself.

Shewuma ran to the railing. “LUCE!”

Luce stepped out of the kitchen. “I’m here, Chieftess.”

“I need the Eagle. Now! Stay with Corrine and help her with this boy.”

“Yes, Chieftess,” and she ran to the back door.

Wu wanted the Eagle there. Besides his Kachina training, the Eagle was a gifted medicine man and had worked extensively with Mystic Devas in Northern Asia. He could be of great value in such a potentially dangerous situation. She turned to Daniel. “In my closet is a plastic trash can of different plants. Are you familiar with Mugwort?”

“No. What does it look like?”

“Never mind. Just bring it all. Spread it around him. Understand? Just spread it on the floor. GO!” And he went. Mugwort was used by witches for its protection and healing properties. In psychic warfare, any edge could mean the difference. “Corrine,” she said as she took her by the shoulders to get her full attention, “I need your nurse training now.”

Corrine shook out the cobwebs and steeled herself. “What? Anything.”

Shewuma wrapped her arms around herself, let out a deep breath, and said, “Don’t let him die.” Then she collapsed to the floor on her knees.

Wisty had never left her body so quickly and felt disoriented. But the globules of light dancing on her skin and the glistening hands flexing at the end of her arms told her she was in her etheric body. The twinkling astral landscape was empty. Somehow she was alone on this plane. She pictured Dermott in her mind and willed herself to his presence. But nothing happened. She spoke his name and said a spell to bring his soul to her. It too was unsuccessful. Even in otherworldly planes there was a natural order and rules of governance. There had to be powerful forces at work to suspend the natural law of her magiks. She wondered how she could find him. Then an idea came to her. Willing an opening of a portal to the physical world, she passed through it into the loft at Corrine’s house. In this state she would be invisible to them. But no matter. It was Dermott she wanted. On the floor sitting back on her heels, Shewuma was in a trance. There were stems and leaves scattered around the floor. It smelled familiar. Of course. Mugwort. Good thinking, Shewuma. Wisty felt its properties enhancing her psychic defenses. Then she saw Corrine and Luce performing CPR on Dermott’s now lifeless body. Time was short and she couldn’t afford to get rattled, so she buried her emotions and remained focused. There was one sure way to find him. She searched for the Sutratma, or life thread. It connected his physical body to his lifeforce in the astral world. Instead of a silvery gleaming cord flowing from his midsection, she found a black brittle fiber pulling violently at his abdomen and extending through a dark hole. That was her best chance. Wisty took hold of the corrupted lifeline and followed it into the blackness. Descending, always descending into the lowest depths of the astral planes. It was not safe this deep even for someone with her knowledge and experience. Many an astral traveler had ventured too far into the lowest realms only to be possessed, driven mad, or lost forever. There was a faint light in the distance. As she came closer, she could see it was Dermott. For the first time in all her considerable experience of astral projecting, Wisty was afraid. Dermott was being attacked by a group of what she called astral wildlife. Nasty creatures of the lower realms whose sole purpose was to savage or steal the life force of others. But this scenario was impossible. Astral vermin hated each other as much as they hated everything else. They would attack anything on sight, even their own kind. Yet these monsters were working together. Ugly, harpy beasts tore at his astral flesh and sucked at his soul while rat-like parasites had severed his life cord and gnawed at the remains that trailed from him. His physical body was dead now and his soul would soon be lost as well, floating through this accursed place until it was consumed entirely. She visualized herself surrounded by love and light, building a psychic shield, and went to him. The vermin seemed appalled by her presence, but they were not repelled by her defensive sphere as she expected. Dermott’s eyes were wild and pleading for help. She grabbed a harpy that had its claws sunk deep in Dermott’s shoulder. They were small but powerful beings. Finally wrenching it loose, she hurled it into the darkness, then wrapped her arms around Dermott’s neck and held on desperately. To let go would be the end of his existence. Kicking at the vermin had little effect and she didn’t know how else to fight them. Soon the harpies were attacking her as well, ripping at her astral flesh and stealing bits of her lifeforce. The rats left Dermott and moved on to her life thread. Her silver cord turned gray and began to splinter as the parasites viciously gnawed at it with their grating teeth. There was a chance, but it was a longshot and very dangerous. Besides, she needed her arms to do it and to let go of Dermott would be his end. She had grown weak and was losing focus. Thinking of David E., she called his name out loud.

Just as all seemed lost, one of the harpies screeched a hellish noise and his body burst into flames. Then it dissipated into nothing. Wisty looked up and in the distance like a glorious angel, Shewuma approached, shining with a golden sheen. In her left hand she held a bow of white light. She fired a rapid succession of blinding arrows until all the astral atrocities were ended. Wisty’s strength was spent, and her life thread was now a piece of frayed string.

“Hold on. I’m coming.” Shewuma said to her mind. But Shewuma wasn’t going to make it. They both heard it. A vociferous rumbling buzz rolled through the darkness, filling them with dread. Shewuma could see it now. A horde of evil astral beings. Thousands of negative entities approaching them like a demonic wave. They were called Negs in Kachina lore. Shewuma spent many years training to navigate other worldly realms, deal with spirit entities, defend herself psychically, and fight Negs in the astral world. But this was beyond anything she was ever taught. She knew she couldn’t possibly win. There were too many. But they would pay a heavy price. The bow in her left hand and the arrow in her right hand both became flaming swords. “Keep your faith,” she said out loud and spoke a Hopi prayer of bravery. Then a bubble of light came from above and into the horde. The Negs began to scatter and shift erratically. It moved through them like a shooting star heading straight for Shewuma. It was the Eagle. Shewuma could see him now. The Negs had reformed and were bearing down on them. The Eagle reached her side, but there was no time to make it to the floating remains of Wisty and Dermott. They turned and braced to face the black army together. Perhaps by some miracle they could slow them enough to allow Wisty to escape if she were still able. The two looked at each other. Speaking in their native tongue, Shewuma began the song of strength. “Spirits of the light and sky, hear us. I am Shewuma.”

“I am Nuuakhwahu.”

Then they spoke in unison. “We are Holy Warriors. We are Kachinas of the Hopi nation. We are Star Children of the Realm of Man. Help us die well.” Shewuma bowed her head to this noble warrior that she had called to his death.

With a wink and a hint of a smile, the Eagle said to her, “You’re going to love this, Chieftess. A little something I picked up in Tibet.” He began to grow. Ten times, a hundred times bigger.

Together they screamed the Hopi War Cry and met the horde.

Like jumping naked into the snow, the powerful War Cry brought Wisty to consciousness. She watched the Neg army envelop the brave Kachinas. They fought for her and Dermott, and they would die for her and Dermott. Shewuma battled ferociously but was disappearing under sheer numbers. Even with the massive death toll from the Eagle with his colossal size, he was steadily being ripped apart.

A voice deep inside told Wisty she had to do something. She wrapped her legs around Dermott’s waist and locked her feet. Then she held her arms out while visualizing an amethyst knife held by both hands pointing at her chest, and it was so. She had never done this spell before. It was said that none who tried had survived. “Oh well,” she thought. “Nothing ventured.” She spoke out loud with resolve:

Our life is spent, our time has come.

Back to the place that we are from.

I call upon the Powers That Be.

This is my will So mote it be!

She plunged the knife into her chest.

There was a thunderous clap, and in that instant they all woke up back in the loft in their own bodies. Shewuma went to her feet unsteadily. The Eagle was on his knees trying to get his bearings. “Daniel, please help him,” said Shewuma. Corrine and Luce were doing CPR on Dermott’s body. Corrine looked worn out. Shewuma turned to Wisty and called her name. Wisty murmured something unintelligible. Wu slapped her across the face and yelled, “WISTY!”

Wisty opened her eyes, grateful to be alive. “Wu?” She tried to get up and Wu had to keep her from falling over.

“What about Dermott?”

Wisty patted her chest. “I have him here.”

Wu carried her over to the loveseat. “Let her in, guys. You did a hell of a job.” Corrine sat down on the floor exhausted while Luce went to help the Eagle. Ignoring decorum, Wisty pulled her dress up to her waist and straddled Dermott. She pressed against both of his temples while breathing in deeply. Glancing to her right she saw Shewuma watching her intently as she recited a Hopi prayer.

Wisty said, “Here goes.” Wu nodded encouragement. Wisty put her mouth on Dermott’s mouth and willed her soul to breathe. Dermott’s lips began to sparkle and color poured back into his face. His eyes opened. He lurched upward, arching his back and bucking Wisty off the loveseat. Wu caught her midair and sat her down. “Nice reflexes. Thanks.”

Wu pulled her in for a hug. “You did it.”

Holding onto Wu’s neck she said, “We did it, Shewuma. You two saved our lives. Thank you.”

Corrine lay back on the floor and smiled. She was pooped.

Luce leaned over Dermott, cocking her head. He was saying something to her. “Chieftess!” Luce called out in alarm.

“Everyone quiet,” ordered Wu, and she was at Dermott’s side. He grabbed Wu’s arm and struggled to tell her something. “Luce, get Dermott some water.” Wu said it calmly, but her eyes were smoldering. She stroked his head gently. “Tell me everything.”

His voice was raspy and faint. “Jimmy and Debbie. They’re going to die. It’s a trap.”

President Donald Trump believes Apple can make its signature iPhone in the U.S. to avoid new tariffs. Apple also committed $500B of investments in the US. Do you believe Apple can move iPhone assembly and the entire supply chain back home?

Nobody believes it

Including Trump!!

This is just spiel to fool the 70–80 Million MAGA crowd that good days are here and prevent them from turning on him when prices rise to the skies

In reality Trump will have to eat some of his tariffs and he will do it over time by declaring “Wins” in the coming days

For instance he may have a meeting with Cook and claim “Cook agreed to invest $ 300 Billion in USA and relocate all his businesses to US by 2030 so for the next 3 years, I will grant him an exemption on the Iphones”

He may actually demand an open bribe from Cook

The US is crumbling very fast and it’s resembling more of India as the days go by

Political favors sold for cash, Open Bribery and Corruption, One man running the show like a Dictator and the rest of the country , impotent to stop him

If Putin or Xi did 10% of what Trump is doing, they would have definitely been ousted from power long ago

So right now Trump is decimating the world

China has something to gain as every day the US is weaker and weaker without a shot being fired by China

Star Trek – Stuck on Earth

Don’t Chinese people get tired of writing all their characters in kanji?

Personally, I think it’s exhausting.

When I was a child, I occasionally saw Japanese in China.

Me: Dad, Chinese is too much work. Japanese is better, it’s simple and easy to write! Dad: Wow! Chinese is beautiful. Let’s write beautiful Chinese.

Ever since I was a child, my parents have always taught and brainwashed me into thinking that I must write beautiful Chinese.

Mother: A man who can’t write beautiful Chinese isn’t a man!

Father: During summer vacation, let’s practice three pages of kanji every day.

When I became a junior high school student, I had to write an essay as part of the Japanese language test. Usually, I had to write more than 800 kanji characters. After the test, my hands would hurt.

The composition is like this↓ (Source:

)

However, traditional characters are more complicated than simplified characters, so I think people who use traditional characters will be more tired. When I see traditional characters, I want to see garbled characters.

For example, the traditional and simplified characters for “melancholy turtle” are as follows:

Traditional Chinese ⇒ Melancholic Turtle

Simplified Chinese ⇒ Melancholic Turtle

If the “gloomy turtles” appear in groups,

Traditional Chinese —– (I’m sure it will be tiring)

Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow, Melancholy Crow

Simplified Chinese —– (I think it’s pretty tiring)

The next door is the next door.

Katakana——- (What’s this!? Easy)

UtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopiaUtopia

When I was a child, the characters I wanted to write the most were katakana-like characters. However, people today don’t write by hand as much, and instead use computers or smartphones to type, so I think the difference in fatigue disappears. For example, if you just type “yydwg” using the pinyin input method, you can quickly write the Chinese characters for “忧郁的乌龟”.

Shorpy

SHORPY 1954 Ford Dearborn Assembly Plant.preview

SHORPY New Orleans Jackson Square.preview

SHORPY 1959 Ford Country Squire pushbutton camper.preview

As an officer, have you ever gotten a sixth sense that something isn’t right?

Not me, my brother – when he was around 10 years in the police force. He came home one night after work trembling and wanting to say a prayer of thanks.

One night he was the lone police officer sent to watch over an isolated small town. He was called to a report of someone doing graffiti on shop signage. When he arrived the small town was quiet with no one around. While walking the street he felt something urge him to turn around, he briefly glanced back – nothing. A few seconds later, the same feeling – he looked over his shoulder. Still nothing. The third time he said “I called have sworn it was a real voice”. He spun around just as a man was taking an overhead swing at him with an axe. He said it was as if his hand was guided within a split second to pull his baton, raising it over his head and deflecting the axe to one side. He grabbed the assailant and cuffed him. A prayer of thanks was given by everyone in our household that night.

He retired from the police last month at the good age of 63 having served as a police officer since 21 years old.

UPDATE – Unappreciated Adult Son Saves Nieces Life, Teaches Lowlife Parents & Sister To NEVER…

INVASION

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Charles Corkery

“How long have we been working together as a team, Val?”“Twelve years, five months, two weeks and three days. Do you want me to break it down into hours and minutes?”Paul Jones turned to his partner, an incredulous look upon his face.“Are you actually, frigging serious?’Val Thorens broke into a broad smile, his eyes never leaving the giant screen in front of him.“No, you muppet. I’m pulling your leg”.Paul, standing, strode across the small room to a filing cabinet and yanked open a drawer. Retrieving a brown, cardboard file, he opened it and perused its contents for several seconds.

“July 2nd 2011. Almost twelve and a half years ago. Jeez! You’re right. How did you do that? Wait, if I check the actual time that you became my partner…”

“Paul, a child of four years could work out how long we’ve been together. Why are you making such a fuss about it?”

Replacing the file, Paul turned back to his partner.

“I didn’t know. I mean I knew it was about ten, twelve years but you…you’re always so frigging precise. It’s uncanny”.

‘Hey, I might be a physicist and an astronomer but, above all else, I’m a mathematician. Numbers to me are like candy to someone like yourself”, Val glibly remarked, pointing at the almost empty, giant bag of M and Ms that lay on Paul’s work station without removing his eyes from the monitor in front of him that, to an untrained eye, appeared to display an impenetrable darkness.

“Horses for courses, my friend. How come you don’t like candy, anyhow?”

Paul resumed his seat and stared briefly at his screen, quickly becoming restless and bored.

“My parents didn’t allow it when I was younger and, as I grew older and saw the damage that sugar did to teeth, I just decided it wasn’t for me”.

“Man, I’d go crazy in this place if I didn’t have something to brighten up my shift”.

Paul looked around their work space eyeing the pristine environment that made up this lab-like habitat that was their “office”. The sterile stolidness, dominated by the two giant screens, the computerised telescopes that were their workstations and which covered the skies above the state of Delaware, only a coffee machine and the low humming refrigerator added a sense of domesticity though one of the earlier shifts had, half-heartedly, hung tinsel around the place in an effort to provide some festive cheer.

Grabbing a handful of chocolate treats, Paul leaned back in his ergonomic chair, staring idly at the ceiling, popping candy.

“Val, do you ever get bored with this job?”

“Sure. And, every time it happens, I think of the money we get paid, partner”.

Apart from the idle chitchat, the room’s silence was broken only by the incessant humming of the fridge and crackling of radio static; the latter being the communication airwaves that connected all other watch stations; one per state across the nation. Each employing two, highly trained scientists per shift in a constant, perpetual state of watchfulness upon the skies above and beyond.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, Val. We get paid way more than if I was actually working in a lab. But, I mean, don’t you ever think that we’re kind of wasting our skills? All the years it took to get our degrees. I majored in astrophysics, for God’s sake yet, here I am just…watching a frigging screen”.

“In actual fact, if you calculate the time you spend popping candy, making endless cups of coffee and staring at the ceiling, Paul, you probably spend a minimal amount of your working hours actually watching your screen”.

“And your eyes never leave your screen, amigo. I don’t know how you do it. No wonder you need those tinted glasses of yours”.

“Well, I figure this is what the government pays us to do so, for eight hours each day, it’s my duty to oblige. Plus, after so long, it would be extremely difficult for me to drop a hundred grand per year by taking a normal lab job”.

Suddenly, Val leaned urgently forward, his eyes having discerned something on his monitor.

“One o’ clock, Paul. Check it out”.

Startled, Paul crashed down in his tilted chair, eyes returning to his own screen, a duplicate of Val’s, his hand involuntarily releasing a cascade of candy, M and Ms rolling across the metallic floor.

Both screens simultaneously arrowed in on the object identified by Val, images expanding as Paul controlled the direction of the viewfinder on the space telescope that provided them with intimate coverage of the night sky. Within seconds, Paul, among his other accomplishments, a nanotechnologist and an expert in the structure of such things, relaxed.

“Just another boring meteorite. Iron-nickel. I can tell by the regmaglypts, the irregular shaped pits. No problem, unfortunately. That’s the way the cookie crumbles”.

Later, as their shift ended, the spotting of the meteorite and its subsequent passage to Earth recorded in the log, the two men exited their work environment, the outraged cries of their shift replacements echoing in their ears as they slipped and crunched on the candy strewn floor. They grinned at each other as they unlocked their cars in the parking lot, the weak, early morning sun dazzling Paul but not bothering Val behind his dark lenses. Paul lamented.

“Another cold, miserable morning. I can’t remember the last time we had a white Christmas”.

Immediately, Val shot back.

“December 25th, 2002. 1.3 inches fell in Wilmington”.

Paul looked askance at his work partner.

“Do you make this shit up? How could you remember that?”

Saying nothing, Val simply shrugged, pulling up his collar against the chilly wind.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, you numbers freak”.

“Yes. Just two days ’til Santa comes”.

“Hey, Val, we need to organise a night out or something. Your wife and mine. Maybe in the New Year. What d’you say?”

“Yeah, definitely, we need to do that”.

As Paul climbed into his brand new Tesla, he, somehow, knew it would never happen. They had been talking about it… for twelve years, five months, two weeks and three days.

The alert came the following day: drones spotted over New Jersey. Reports varied: five, some said, six, others claimed; large, the size of cars according to a New Jersey police chief. Paul arrived for his shift in a heightened state of excitement though Val was his usual phlegmatic self.

The shift they were replacing seemed loath to leave though Delaware had, so far, not seen anything amiss. The unusual happenings in a neighbouring state were causing great excitement within the watchers’ community and the comms channels crackled with constant chatter.

“Can you believe it? Just east of us. Just our damn luck but we’ve been on full alert all day. Washington is saying they don’t know what they are. One eyewitness said they came out of the ocean”, a tired, wide-eyed watcher eagerly reported to the duo.

Alone again, the two settled in front of their screens.

“Val, d’you think this could be for real? D’you think…?”

‘Paul, I don’t believe we should take any notice of mere conjecture but, given the vicinity and its closeness to our own area of observation, I do think that we need to be extra vigilant”.

“Hey, don’t worry, pal. My eyes are never leaving my screen”.

As the night progressed, however, nothing was displayed on the monitors from the space telescope that hovered high over Delaware though, on the various frequencies that shattered the silence of their stations, they listened, enthralled, as word filtered through of several other sightings, maddeningly close to their own area of surveillance and, by shift’s end, the number of reported craft had increased steadily; Washington, despite stating that there was nothing to fear, still unable to identify their origin.

True to his word, Paul had remained watchful throughout the night, an unopened bag of Snickers testament to his attentiveness, and both men, too, were reluctant to leave their posts at the end of their shift, feeling that it was only a matter of time before Delaware, too, became embroiled in the mystery.

Fear, that normal human reaction to anything untoward that cannot be explained, spread swiftly over the ensuing hours. People who relied and depended on their government to reassure them were severely disappointed. Some brave citizens were taking ineffective pot shots at the unidentified craft as their numbers multiplied rapidly. These were not, as first reported, drones. That much was abundantly clear.

Panic followed fear and the roads were soon blocked by the vehicles of those fleeing from their homes, though where to, they did not know, but a mass exodus was taking place in New Jersey. Yet Washington did nothing to assuage concerns, either refusing to divulge the true identity of the spacecraft or simply unable to.

As Paul and Val reported for their shifts on Christmas Day, still, they learned, no sightings had been made over Delaware though New York State and Pennsylvania, both close neighbours, had now experienced numerous craft sightings. The incessant radio chatter confirmed the seriousness of the situation and the two observational physicists studied their screens intently; Paul, finally realising the importance of his chosen profession. Could the nation be under threat from space? The tension was palpable.

Then, an hour before their shift’s end, out of nowhere, an image appeared on their dual monitors; small and faint, at first, but, as it loomed closer, growing ever larger. Excitedly, Paul expertly guided the telescope remotely, zooming in, and gasping aloud as the magnification identified hundreds more craft coming into focus, following close behind the vanguard ship but only serving to accentuate the monstrous size of the lead craft.

“Holy Mother of God. Val, you see that? That’s a frigging mother ship!”

The static of the various frequencies suddenly ceased, all communication cut by some unknown, alien source. Paul, terrified, turned to his partner but Val seemed unperturbed, almost gleeful, pushing away from his work station and turning to Paul, slowly removing his glasses.

“It’s been…interesting, Paul. I’m sorry it has to end this way but, hey, that’s the way the cookie crumbles, right? Happy Christmas!”

Unable to move, Paul stared at the man he had worked alongside for so many years; a man who, after more than twelve years, he suddenly realised, he knew absolutely nothing about A man who, he registered far too late, was, in fact, not a man at all, his bulging, bright red eyes, exposed for the first time, now burning into his own, distorting his vision, the vicious heat melting his very flesh.

TARIFF WARS: China Responds to Trump’s Tantrum with 125% Measures

Has President Trump been successful in containing China and addressing trade issues? Is there a “honeymoon” period for him in this regard?

President Trump has not addressed any trade issues.

He has been reckless, spraying tariff bullets everywhere. In the case of China, he uses the bazooka.

Just to show his power. Instead he shows ignorance. His officials easily coned him that his reciprocal tariffs are derived from sophisticated calculations. He lost international stature and credibility.

Countries are confused. The American public as well. Maybe he himself is confused, hence the stops/goes, and pauses.

China refuses to let him run amok at its expense. It too has the bazooka, and it shot back. No trade issues to settle. This is China’s stance. If you want to trade with us, we are fine, we will trade with you. If you don’t want to trade with us, we are also fine. You ban us your high end chips, we ban you our rare earths minerals. An arm for an arm. China is prepared to decouple with the US.

It has already figure out the consequences. Exports to the US is worth 2.4% of GDP. On the decouple scenario, it may shed its growth by 1.5% points. Easily bearable, less than what it sacrificed when it self-triggered the real estate financial crisis. If necessary, it has plenty of fiscal and monetary space to cover the fall-out. No internal price pressures without imports from the US. It has alternative sources for the agriculture and energy goods. No technology supply pressures. It has overcome US sanctions and is self-reliant.

The US side may be less sanguine. Internal price pressures and shortages of goods may be mild for now, mitigated by the advanced orders to beat the tariffs. But they will start to bite going forward. The ban on rare earths has caused supply problems for the defence contractors, and the major tech companies, such as, Broadcom, Qualcomm, TSMC, Samsung, and Western Digital.

It is the financial markets that are worrying. The Dow, S&P 500, and Nasdaq crashed over 10%. Treasury Bond market is volatile, the 10-year benchmark jumped from below 4% in early April to 4.4% in the current. It had gone past 4.5%. The currency is under pressure, the dollar index fell from over 110 in early January to just over 100 in the current.

This is serious. US is a financialized economy. Values and valuations are determined by the financial markets. The turmoil could cause grave economic distresses, especially as there are worries about recession on top of the stubborn inflation, and the threat of stagflation.

The two countries are now in a full-blown trade war. Trump started it with a bang. No honeymoon period for him or anyone else. There will be no winner. China is calculative, and is is better prepared. Trump is reckless and full of hubris. US is unprepared.

What Is WRONG With This New Generation!?

What did you learn after traveling abroad that you would never have known if you had stayed in Indonesia?

There are no usable toilets inside the White House USA

Taking a photo inside the White House (Personal Documentation)

I received an invitation from the United States government to visit the White House while I was an exchange student there.

The invitation I received was official, because it was given by the American government. For US residents, to get an invitation, they must ask for a recommendation from their respective State Senate. But for non-US residents, I don’t know how they can get the invitation.

Northeast Gate White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Five layers of security must be passed to enter the White House. Once inside, there are several rooms that can be visited, which contain various collections belonging to American presidents from generation to generation. The largest collection that I saw belonged to Barack Obama, George W. Bush, John F. Kennedy, and Abraham Lincoln.

The rooms in the White House have different nuances. Like in the Red Room, all the walls, carpets, curtains, and lighting are red. So are the Blue Room and Green Room, which are blue and green.

Map of rooms in the White House. Source:

Historical Tour of the White House

This is historical material, “frozen in time.” The web site is no longer updated and links to external web sites and some internal pages will not work. Tours Presidents & First Ladies White House Events & Traditions Resources Military

https://georgewbush-whitehouse.archives.gov/history/whtour/

Green Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation.

Blue Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation.

Red Room White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Not all rooms in the White House can be entered. Like the Library, there are barriers that limit the movement of visitors, so that they can only see from the outside. Likewise with the objects there, everything is far from reach, so it is difficult (and indeed not allowed) for visitors to hold.

Library White House. Source: Personal Documentation

Another interesting fact is, inside the White House there are no toilets that visitors can use. Yes, since outside it has been warned by the officers, even explained in the invitation email. So if you want to relieve yourself, you have to leave the White House, and you can’t go back in because the invitation can only be used once.

2. Emergency 911 in the USA really works fast and responsively.

Emergency room of a hospital in Sycamore, Illinois, USA. (Personal Documentation)

I was an exchange student at Northern Illinois University, located in DeKalb, Illinois. One midnight, I was walking to my dorm after a night of studying in the campus library. The temperature was zero degrees Celsius, and the wind was blowing very hard.

After arriving at the dorm and entering my room, I went straight to sleep. Two hours into my sleep, I woke up because of a stomachache. At first it was just a normal ache, but then my stomach felt like it was spinning and I winced while holding my stomach.

My roommate asked about my situation, and asked for help from my friends from the next room. When my friends arrived, they tried to contact the dorm head and the person in charge of my exchange program. But because it was already 2 am, no one responded.

Finally my friend called 911, and asked for medical help for my condition. I thought help would come about 20-30 minutes after the call, but two police officers came to my room three minutes later. Yes, that fast!

Two policewomen came to ask about my condition, asked for my passport and campus ID, and immediately helped me down. On the ground floor, there were also two medical personnel with an ambulance, and a firefighter with his car to deal with emergencies. I was really stunned in the midst of my illness, they came three minutes after the call with a complete formation like this!

After I got into the ambulance, the police and firefighters left the campus, and I was taken to the nearest hospital on the border with Sycamore City, a 20-minute drive away. When I arrived at the hospital, there were already 2 doctors waiting who immediately provided responsive treatment for me. I was then transferred to several rooms, to check the condition of my stomach.

The final result of my emergency examination that night was stomach cramps due to the cold weather (and also a cold, hehe). After a few hours of rest, I was finally allowed to go home that night. And what made me laugh out loud was, around 4 am, I farted quite a lot, and my stomach immediately felt better. HAHAHA. The only medicine for this is supposed to be warm tea and Tolak Angin in Indonesia!

Everything was done very quickly and precisely. And what really amazed me was, everything was well organized and coordinated. All state officials worked together to give their best. If I, a newcomer, was treated very well, of course the locals would also get the same treatment or even better.

Anyway, after I got out of the hospital, I looked at the total emergency bill and if converted to Rupiah it was around 22 million. Luckily everything was covered by insurance, and I could return to campus in peace without having to think about such a large cost just for a cold.

3. Meet the Former Vice President of Uganda

Speciosa Wandira-Kazibwe with Rezki Achyana (Personal Documentation)

It was an honor for me to get to know Uganda’s first female Vice President, Speciosa Wandira-Kazibwe, closely and share stories. I met her in South Africa, when we both represented the Asia-Africa Forum 2018. She is a very humble person, and loves to share. We even had coffee together after the conference and shared stories. She told me a lot about her 10-year experience leading Uganda, empowering women in Uganda as the first president of the African Women’s Committee for Peace and Development of the African Union, and her story of becoming the UN Special Envoy for handling HIV/AIDS in the African continent.

I don’t think I need to share many stories about him, because you can google information about him directly on the internet. There are so many!

But the most important thing is, I am quite confident that African countries will improve a lot because at the 2018 Asia-Africa Forum I met many extraordinary African leaders like Mrs. Kazibwe.

Oh yes, I have a bonus photo with the former President of Mozambique, Joaquim Chissano. I was not that close to him during the conference, but from his background and his role in the political world of Mozambique and the African Union, I am increasingly convinced that Africa will soon show its teeth.

“Trump Plays The Media Like A Fiddle” – Col. Douglas Macgregor

How awful was Steve Jobs as a person?

A friend of mine told a story about how, 25-some years ago, when she was working tech sales with an Apple division, she was at a conference that Steve Jobs also attended. At the end of the day, everyone was going to a restaurant for dinner, and through a snafu she found herself left with Jobs and two other people, whose ride had left them behind.

None of them had a car, so she offered to drive. Problem was, she and her husband were fresh out of school, her husband had started law school and money was tight — she was driving her husband’s old beater car that day. The front passenger seat was a little wonky, in that it tended not to lock in place, and the seat would occasionally slide forward and backwards of its own accord. Of course, that’s where Jobs was sitting. 🙂 It was dark and rainy, she didn’t know the roads that well, and they came up to a toll booth. She didn’t have the exact change, so everyone in the car was scrambling to find the change to get through the toll gate. The defroster didn’t work too well, either, especially with a full car, and Jobs would obligingly wipe the windshield occasionally. They arrived safely, and she figured she had a funny cocktail party story for the rest of her life.

A couple of weeks later, she noticed an extra $300 in her paycheck. She went to her boss and said, “Hey, what happened? Did I get a raise?” He didn’t know, either, but he checked with payroll. He came back with a funny look on his face and told her “Steve said it’s to cover a payment for a new car.” “Steve who?” “Uhh . . . Jobs?”

Brilliant people are frequently difficult — the thing that makes them brilliant also makes them a little too different, sometimes, for social conventions.

I live in the U.S. and always hear about how affordable or free health insurance is in other countries, but I also hear how it is next to impossible to get treatments and appointments. How truthful is this in your country?

I slipped with a kitchen knife and left a superficial mark on my thumb.

It bled a little, and the knife had been used on raw meat, so I applied ethanol and a bandage. A few days later, I noticed a fair amount of redness around the wound.

I went to the doctor’s office about ten minutes away from my house. They told me the next appointment was in six hours, so I booked it, and went home to play Fallout 4.

Six hours later, I saw the doctor. Telling the story took about a minute, and inspecting the wound took another, and he was satisfied at that point that I should take some standard antibiotics, just in case it was, as I suspected, infected.

He wrote out the prescription, asked me if I had any other concerns, and I told him I did not.

With five minutes left in our ten minute appointment, and with little else to do, he figured he may as well take my blood pressure and heart rate. I agreed, and was told everything was good.

I left with the prescription, popped to the pharmacy next door, got my prescription, and that was the end of it.

I didn’t pay a single penny.

The average person, i.e. those that actually paid for this appointment, spend about £600–700 annually in taxes for this service, which covers everything from minor cuts to cancer treatment, and covers everyone from babies to old people.

Nobody is ever bankrupted by this system, nobody is ever left without treatment by this system, nobody is abandoned by this system.

Cherry Cheese Coffee Cake

Ingredients

Cake and Filling

2 (8 ounce) packages refrigerated crescent rolls
8 ounces cream cheese
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla or almond extract
1 (21 ounce) can cherry pie filling

Glaze

1/2 cup powdered sugar
2-3 teaspoons milk

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Unroll crescent dough and arrange 12 of the triangles in a circle with wide ends toward the outside edge of the Large Round Stone – the points will not meet in the center. Lightly flour and roll out the seams making a 14 inch circle with a 3 inch hole in the center.
Combine the cream cheese, powdered sugar, egg and vanilla and spread over dough. Top with pie filling.
Cut each of the 4 remaining triangles into thirds (starting at the wide end opposite the point and cutting lengthwise to the point). Arrange over filling evenly in spoke-like pattern. Press ends to seal at center and outer edges.
Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until golden brown.
Cool slightly.
Mix powdered sugar and milk until glaze consistency and drizzle over coffee cake.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

What is one thing you caught your parents doing that you wish you had never seen?

When Your Mama and Daddy Say “No” — Do It Anyway!

Wanna get Mama a ring? Daddy a brand-new Skil saw? DO IT!
Even if they say, “We don’t need anything.”
“We don’t want anything…”

Now, my Daddy’s long gone — Agent Orange got him. Retired at 55, and passed a few years later.
So now it’s just Mom… well, Mom and my little sister and me. And we deal with her the best we can. 😂

ME: “Mom? What do you want for your birthday?”
MOM: “Nothing! I don’t need anything! I’ve got everything!”

Her Birthday:
We got her puzzles. Word search books. A food basket. More chocolate (like she’s ever in danger of running out). And another grabby thingie with a flashlight. She loved it so much, she had me buy her another. She’s got three now.

Christmas:
More puzzles. More word search books. A snack basket. A food basket. “Warmy-Warmies” for the cold — blankets, PJs, cozy stuff. And yep… more chocolate.
Since I’m the only one that bakes, I brought homemade holiday cookies and “Chocolate Overload Brownies” so ooey-gooey the fudge literally goes every which way but… 🤤

Just Because:
We’ve gotten her all her favorites — cake, apple fritters, and I bring over hot, fresh cooking.
My little sister and her hubby #2 takes her out to eat.
Oh — and did I mention? She’s well over 90 now.

This Year – Easter:
MOM: “I don’t want anything. Don’t need an Easter dinner.”
ME: LOL okay, sure Mom.
I’m making her favorite: smoked turkey with all the fixings.
And a “ShishkaBoom” basket of Easter chocolates and cookies, labeled:
“To: [Her Name] — I couldn’t find your house! Love, the Easter Bunny.” 🐰
(Sissy’s still undecided, but she’s always slow – she’ll find something.)

Will Trump Deliver Peace? – Jeffrey Sachs, Alexander Mercouris & Glenn Diesen

The trash pile outside my living room; a concerning tale

Today I wish to tell you about an on-going issue that myself and the rest of the people are having in our complex.

As you might know, this particular house is an apartment in a building in a complex. The complex is large with some 35 other buildings housing residences, with a sum total of over 50 buildings in total. Each residence building has around 130 apartments.

In the complex are management buildings, clinics for various medical needs, schools, and all sorts of other things that small centralized communities require.

The view from our building is of the nearby farming communities. So being above, it’s a nice view.

That is…

Until the local garbage grannies decided to place a collection station outside our building.

Before I go any further, let me explain.

Recycling is big in China. You can collect glass, plastic, metals and cardboard and make reasonable money for it.

So many of the poor older folk have these electric three wheel scooters, and go though all our garbage, and collect the junk, trash and garbage and sell it off to the recycle center at the other side of town.

So where do they decide to store it, while they are in the process of collecting the refuse you might ask?

Right in front of our living room.

…

And the living room of the other 120 to 150 other families.

Oh, for certain, we let them do this for a while, and then the stench and view were too much to bear. And so one day, one of my neighbors starts ranting on our joint wechat.

By the way, all sub communities have their own wechat hot-lines and chat boards here in China.

He’s screaming …

"I paid four million for my house, only to have a front row view of a garbage dump. Get them out".

And so the building manager took complete action.

Chased them away.

…

And the next day they came back.

And so he chased them away again.

…

And he chased them away, and parked cars blocking their collection points.

And still they came back.

…

Stupider than a gnat. But they are persistent.

Shit.

Life in China can get so complicated sometimes.

Today…

Harsh Tariff Truths SINK IN, While MAGA Celebrates Trump ‘Genius’

Has China announced 84% tariffs on US goods in showdown with Trump? Does Europe also hit back?

The CPC always has a plan of action and a playbook where most contingencies are discussed and responses gauged

If there is a student uprising in Bangladesh, the experts anticipate several scenarios and chart out the course of action for China

Since July 2024 when Trump talked of a 60% tariff on China, China developed and prepared for potential escalations

One thing they did was lease over 300 Warehouses in USA between January 2023 and January 2025 owned by Chinese companies where they kept huge inventories of Televisions and Iphones and other electronic items

So China has been shipping a lot of excess inventory to its own holding companies in USA & Mexico and storing them

However they did confirm that no matter what, they wouldn’t trust Donald Trump again after the 2017 hand shake after which Trump imposed tariffs and arrested Meng Wanzhou

So they would never negotiate from a position of weakness

The minute Trump imposed a 34% Tariff, China knew that this was it. There was no going back. This was decoupling. So China stood firm and hit US with reciprocal tariffs and rare earth bans

34% – 34%

50% – 50%

21% – ????

China feel they are prepared for a Trade war with the US

LNG supplies reserves for 194 days
Soybeans reserves for 16 months
Enough Chips from Taiwan for 11 months even with rising demand
Enough AI Chips to last until 2026
Rising market for EVs, Electronics through aggressive trade in options
Enough Inventory of products in US, Mexico, Vietnam and Thailand to manage upto 2026 in terms of supplying American clients

EU is different

They have a security fear

Russia!!!

Trump may leverage his Putin relationship and the EU is unable to fight Russia without US as is NATO

So EU can’t dismiss Trump

Plus as a democracy, EU leaders change and policies change every 5 years

So a hawk today could become a dove tomorrow

What was the most horrifying phone call you’ve ever received? How did you handle it?

I was a 911 dispatcher for a medium sized agency working alone since tbe other dispatcher had called in sick. Our job was to answer all police, fire and medical calls. One very busy evening, my ex called my cell phone to report our 3 y/o daughter was missing. I didn’t usually answer personal calls at work but since he wasn’t very responsible and had our daughter, I answered. They were in a mall and had gone into a department store. He claimed he turned his back for just a minute. By now it’s 8:30, the stores would be closing soon. Panic could play no role because my training kicked in and I had to make a quick decision. Meanwhile, two 911 calls came in, officers were calling on the radio. After resolving the calls and answering officers, I peppered my ex with questions. Have you alerted store management? Called 911? Done anything? He put a deputy on the phone to talk to me. The deputy assured me they have called a code Adam and secured all exits. We disconnected. There was still almost 2 hours left on my shift. I was about to call the night dispatchers to ask at least one of them to come in early when the ex called back. Had to tell him to stand by because there was a car fire call and a domestic disturbance Ihad to handle. Got those resolved, took a deep breath and got back on the phone with the ex. My daughter was found. She had seen a display of blankets, was tired of walking so she curled up in the middle of them. She was found and unharmed. There’s a reason I divorced her father.

About Trump waiting on Xi

The Pearl-Clutchers of the Stock Markets had their mini-meltdown today because of remarks from the China Foreign Ministry:

Chinese Foreign Ministry Office in Hong Kong:

“We must solemnly tell the US that a tariff-wielding barbarian who attempts to force countries to call and beg for mercy can never expect that call from China.”

The call is not coming.

Baked Apple French Toast

Yield: 12 servings

Ingredients

1 (16 ounce) loaf French bread
8 eggs
3 cups milk
1/4 cup sugar, divided
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
5 Granny Smith apples, peeled, sliced
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons butter or margarine

Instructions

Heat the oven to 400 degrees F.
Cut the bread into 1 1/2 inch slices. Arrange the slices in a single layer in a lightly greased 9 x 13-inch baking pan.
Whisk the eggs in a large bowl until blended. Whisk in the milk, 1/4 cup of the sugar and vanilla.
Pour half the egg mixture over the bread. Arrange the apple slices over the bread. Pour the remaining egg mixture over the apples.
Mix the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and cinnamon in a small mixing bowl. Sprinkle over the top. Dot with the butter.
Bake for 30 to 35 minutes or until the apples are tender.
Let stand for 10 minutes before serving.
Serve with maple syrup.

Notes

May be prepared 1 day in advance and stored, covered, in the refrigerator. Bake, uncovered, for 45 to 50 minutes or until the apples are tender. The recipe may be divided into 2 equal portions and each portion baked in a quiche dish or 2 quart baking dish for 20 to 25 minutes.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 290; Fat 9 g; Sodium 322 mg; Dietary Fiber 2 g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

What are some photos taken right before something bad happens?

Russia’s Andrey Retrosky fell off this building, all for the perfect Instagram feed.

An 18-year-old woman accidentally came into contact with two electrical wires while taking a selfie on a train. The 27,000-amp current electrocuted her and caused burns that led to her death.

Robert Overacker was trying to raise awareness about homelessness. He planned to jet-ski over Niagara Falls and then skydive. Unfortunately, his parachute wouldn’t open, and he fell over the falls.

main qimg 9fd52eb8940e056f9c971a933dd8b2f4 pjlq

The man in this photo was doing a back flip and after landing, he slipped and fell.

These best friends were so busy taking selfies that they didn’t hear the sound of a passing train horn, and moments later, they died.

A Japanese student named Ayano Tokumasa, standing wearing a red shirt behind the couple, accidentally slipped and fell into Niagara Falls.

Karl Wallenda, a legendary circus performer, performed most of his stunts without a safety harness. This photo was taken moments before he fell 121 feet (36.7 m) .

A man went to a zoo in Delhi where he slipped and fell into a tiger enclosure. The tiger bit his neck and dragged him into its den.

The last photo of Australian wildlife presenter Steve Irwin. He was killed when a stingray hit him in the heart with its tail.

Two nurses stand over an Ebola patient in 1976. A nurse named Mating N’Seta (left) was infected with the virus and died.

main qimg a0d4c3d5f1b4741c022ce8f9daf61522 pjlq

In 2014, 25 engineering students drowned after a nearby Larji hydroelectric project released large amounts of water upstream.

Why 86 PERCENT Of Men REFUSE TO DATE Anymore

Mother Invasion

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story that begins with an apology.… view prompt

James Little

“I’m sorry!” Aurelia cried, bowing her head repeatedly, her golden hair falling into her flushed face.

Alex crossed his arms, his sharp blue eyes wide with disbelief. “You what?”

“I didn’t mean to!” she protested, clutching at the hem of her oversized shirt—one of his. “Mother tricked me into inviting her and your mother aboard!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “Our mothers. Here. On my ship.”

She shuffled awkwardly, her fluffy socks scuffing the floor. “I didn’t think they’d actually show up!”

Alex threw up his hands. “And yet, here we are—hosting the Empress herself and your mother for an entire week.” He let out a long, weary sigh. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she offered meekly.

Won’t be so bad?” Alex shot her a pointed look. “Have you met our mothers? Thanks to all the ‘charitable donations’ you keep handing out, we’re barely scraping by as it is! And don’t even get me started on you dragging me into fights with mercenaries and slavers like you’ve got a death wish!”

She bristled, her hands going to her hips. “Those people needed our help, Alex! What was I supposed to do, just walk away? And for the record, our mothers aren’t that bad!” She hesitated, then added sheepishly, “Okay, maybe a little, but they’re here now, and we’ll just have to deal with it. Together.”

“Yes!” Alex shot back, exasperated. “We can’t pick up every stray kitten, we can’t solve every problem… And we definitely can’t solve the mother issue!”

“Well, maybe if you smiled more and stopped calling them harpies, they’d lighten up,” she quipped, crossing her arms.

Alex groaned, pulling a small hip flask from his jacket. He unscrewed the cap, took a measured swig, and stared at it thoughtfully. “I’m gonna need more,” he muttered, shaking his head.

She blinked at him, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re relentless,” Alex said, tucking the flask away after another long sip. He let out a breath and looked at her, his tone lighter but still weary. “For the sake of my mental sanity, could you at least tone it down with the charity work? Just a little?”

Her defiance faltered. “I… I guess I could try. But—”

“No buts,” Alex interrupted, pointing a finger at her with mock seriousness. “If you want me alive and sane, you’ve got to give me some breaks between saving the galaxy.”

“Well, someone has to do the right thing!” she retorted, lifting her chin stubbornly.

Alex sighed, the exasperation in his eyes giving way to something warmer. “And I love you for it,” he said quietly, “but you’re still going to drive me insane.”

Before she could reply, the comms crackled, and a familiar voice interrupted. “Alex, Aurelia, can you let us in? Don’t leave us standing out here!”

Alex groaned like a man condemned, shooting her a withering glare before slumping into the pilot’s chair. “If I don’t come out of this week an alcoholic or a murderer, it’ll be a miracle.” With a resigned sigh, he hit the airlock controls to allow the mothers aboard. “Wait—what did you tell them about us?”

Aurelia felt herself pale. “Erm…”

Before she could answer, the airlock hissed open, and their mothers swept onto the bridge like twin storms.

“Well, well, well,” her Mother drawled, her sapphire-blue eyes gleaming as they landed on Aurelia. “Comfortable, are we, dear? A new wardrobe, I see.”

Startled, Aurelia glanced down to realise all she was wearing was one of Alex’s oversized shirts and her fluffy socks. Her face burned crimson.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” she wailed, spinning to glare at Alex.

“Excuse me!” Alex shot back, throwing his hands up. “I was ambushed by their arrival! You’ve got no one to blame but yourself! As if I want these harpies here!”

“Is that any way to speak about your mother, Alexander?” a smooth voice drawled from behind her Mother.

Aurelia froze as the imperial Empress stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with regal authority.

“It is when you decide to invite yourself onto my ship without prior warning!” Alex snarked.

“If you visited more often, we wouldn’t have to check up on you,” Melissa said, her tone cutting. “Anyway, Aurelia kindly invited us aboard.

“This is the first time you’ve come to us,” Alex said tightly.

“Well, we’ve not seen our children in two years,” Melissa countered smoothly. “Can you blame us?”

Melissa stepped into the cockpit, inspecting every detail like she was judging their choices.

“I’m certainly not returning to the palace,” Alex muttered. “Is his royal painship still sulking because I defied his authority?”

The Empress sighed, brushing a strand of her silver-streaked hair. “Your father cares for you… If he is overbearing.”

“Overbearing?!” Alex scoffed, standing abruptly. “That’s putting it mildly. He just wants a pawn to use. Sorry-not-sorry, I refuse. I’m my own man and technically still fulfilling my princely duties.”

Aurelia bit her lip, fighting the urge to defend him. Embarrassment rose again as Melissa’s gaze flicked to her oversized shirt.

Melissa folded her arms. “Exploring independence is one thing, Alex, but terrorising pirates, hunting slavers, and the Kestrel Syndicate? You’re putting Aurelia at risk. Do you know some pirates have even put a bounty on your head?”

Alex perked up. “Wait, I’ve got a bounty? That’s brilliant. How much?” he pressed, leaning forward eagerly. “Come on, I need to know how much I’m worth to the galaxy’s finest scum.”

“Two million credits,” Melissa snapped, her tone icy.

Alex whistled, leaning back with a smug grin. “Not bad. No ten million, but it’s a start.”

Melissa’s lips tightened into a thin line. “This is not something to celebrate, Alexander.”

“Oh, come on, Mother. It just proves I’m doing something right.”

Aurelia groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Alex…”

“This isn’t a joke,” Melissa barked, her composure slipping. “Do you understand what this means? They’ll be coming after you!”

“They already are,” Aurelia cut in firmly, crossing her arms. “We’ve been dealing with pirates for months, and we always come out on top.”

“That’s not the point,” Melissa said sharply, turning to her. “You might have been lucky so far, but luck runs out. If you keep following Alex into these situations—”

“Excuse me!” Alex interrupted, his grin fading into mock offence as he gestured to Aurelia. “If anything, she’s the one picking fights with every two-bit criminal we meet! I just clean up the mess.”

Aurelia shot him a glare. “I pick fights with bad people, Alex. Someone has to stand up to them.”

“And I love that about you,” Alex replied dryly, “but do you know what standing up to them gets you? A pirate bounty on your boyfriend, that’s what.”

Melissa’s gaze swept between them, unreadable. “This isn’t a game Alexander. You’ve made yourselves targets. The more you stir up trouble, the more dangerous it becomes—for you, and everyone who depends on you.”

Alex scoffed, leaning back. His tone dripping with sarcasm “Then what do you suggest Mother? Should I send an apology gift basket to the pirates?”

Melissa arched an eyebrow, her tone cool as ever “That might be the first sensible thing you’ve said. Honestly, I should be thanking Aurelia for keeping you alive this long, if this is how you act!”

“It’s nothing, your grace,” Aurelia squealed. “Alex and I keep each other alive…”

“Oh, I think we’re well beyond titles, dear,” Melissa said smoothly. “Just call me Melissa. You’ll be my daughter-in-law soon anyway.”

Aurelia’s brain froze. “Erm… just what?” she floundered.

“You’ve been dating for five years now,” Melissa continued breezily. “When are you going to make it official?”

“I… er… We…” Aurelia stammered.

Alex wrapped an arm around Aurelia, pulling her close. “We don’t need fancy paperwork to prove we love each other, Mother. Or is this really about planning one of your grand balls?” His tone turned suspicious.

“My, my, he is bold,” Her mother replied, smirking. “We’re just here to check on our children, nothing more. We want to see how you’re living alone together on a ship like this.”

“Fine.” Alex sighed, releasing her. “Show them around. I’ve got an engine to recalibrate… It’s your fault they’re here anyway.” He stormed off toward the engine room, leaving her alone with the mothers.

“No, wait… please…” Aurelia squeaked, her voice trailing off.

Both women smiled like predators who’d cornered their prey. “Well, Aurelia, please begin the tour,” Melissa said.

Regretting her foolishness, Aurelia led them through the ship, rushing as much as she could.

“My, my, the exterior was impressive, but the interior is something else,” Melissa said, running her fingers along the sleek walls. “This feels more like a luxury cruiser than a warship. It’s fancier than my own.”

“Yes,” Aurelia said, finding her confidence as she spoke about the ship. “It’s one of a kind. A gift from the Kersark shipyards after we saved them from the Crimson Death. Other colonies contributed, adding their best technology. There’s nothing like it in the galaxy!”

“Impressive. You’ll have to share the stories over dinner,” Melissa said, stopping in front of a door. “So, Aurelia, where do you sleep?”

“I… uh… sleep on the couch!” Aurelia blurted out without thinking, her face flushing.

“On the couch?” Her mother teased, her brows rising. “Even with a perfectly good spare room right here?” She gestured to a storage room outfitted with a bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Aurelia stammered, stepping in front of the door to her and Alex’s bedroom.

Her mother smirked and pushed past her with ease. “Now this is cosy.” She picked up a pillow and grinned. “Oh, Aurelia, why is your side so messy compared to Alex’s?”

“Get out of our room!” Aurelia yelled, her patience snapping.

“Did you hear that, Melissa?” Her mother said, her smirk widening. “She finally admitted to sharing a room.”

“That she did, Zerena,” Melissa said, smiling like a cat who’d caught the cream.

“I want to die,” Aurelia groaned, covering her face and squatting down, wanting to die from the sheer embarrassment of her mother going through her private space.

“Get out!” she yelled again, her voice finally regaining some force.

“We’re leaving, we’re leaving,” the two mothers chorused, grinning as they strolled out. “Now come on, Aurelia, we want details!”

“Alex, save me!” Aurelia wailed.

Five hours later, Alex and Aurelia lay sprawled on their shared bed, utterly drained. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the ship’s console lights.

“When do they leave again?” Aurelia mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she clutched against her face.

Alex groaned, his hand draped dramatically over his eyes. “Well… it’s still only the first day.”

Aurelia turned her head to look at him, horrified. “The first day?”

“The very first,” he confirmed, his tone heavy with resignation.

“I’m so sorry,” she squeaked, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

Alex chuckled weakly, nudging her arm. “You know, throwing them in the airlock is looking awfully tempting right about now.”

“Alex!” Aurelia gasped, though her muffled giggle betrayed her.

“I’m serious!” he said, his voice mock-convicted. “Just a little nudge into zero gravity. No harm, no foul.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, giggling harder now.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Alex replied with a smirk. “Mostly because I know they’d find a way back just to haunt me.”

Aurelia groaned, laughing into her pillow. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m surviving, aren’t I?” Alex muttered. “Barely.”

Before either of them could drift off, a sharp knock echoed from the door.

“Aurelia! Alex!” Melissa’s voice rang out, far too cheerful for the hour.

Aurelia shot upright, panic flashing across her face. “Oh no.”

Alex sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m starting to regret not pressing that airlock button.” He took out his flask, inspecting it. “Yep, I’m gonna need more.”

Shorpy

Is Singapore more closely aligned with China or the USA?

Singapore does similar trade with both

Singapore exported $ 39.9 Billion to the US and $ 53.6 Billion to China

Singapore imported $ 75.6 Billion from USA and $ 74.63 Billion from China

The Largest exports from US to Singapore was CRUDE OIL ($ 15.88 Billion), Gold ($ 6.04 Billion) & Consumer Edibles ($ 3.3 Billion)

The Largest exports from China to US was Integrated Circuits ($ 7.81 Billion) , Semiconductor Chips (100–350 nm) ($ 2.86 Billion), Semiconductor Chips (45–100 nm) ($ 2.60 Billion)

Singaporean Air Force is fully US equipped and trained

Singapore Air Force has mainly F-15s ,F-16s and F-35s along with C-130s, Apache and Chinook helicopters and over 60 Heron UAVs from Israel

Singapore is a member of CIPS

There are 2 Banks in Singapore dedicated only for CIPS and 18 other banks that are part of CIPS

Singapore settled 31% of its Trade with China in RMB, 47% in SGD and only 22% in US Dollars

This is even better than Malaysia which settled only 25% of it’s China Trade in RMB and 8% in MYR and 67% in US Dollars

Singapore is 77% Chinese by Population

Singaporeans are majorly Chinese by origin

They speak Mandarin which is one of their four official languages

Singapore invests more with China in terms of Cumulative Net Outflow

Singapore had a investment outflow into China of $ 230.9 Billion since 2010 and a investment inflow of $ 64.2 Billion making it a net outflow of $ 166.7 Billion INTO CHINA

Singapore had a investment outflow of $ 456 Billion into the US since 2010 and an investment inflow of $ 349.6 Billion making it a net outflow of $ 106.4 Billion INTO THE USA

Singapore Government more shades of One Party Meritocracy than Western defined Democracy

Singapore has had ONE PARTY RULE since 1965 for 60 years now, very similar to Chinas 76 years of CPC

Lee Kuan Yew (1965–1990), Goh Chok Tong (1990–2004) , Lee Hsien Loong (2004–2024) have averaged 20 years per leader

By comparison for US in the same period it was Johnson (65–68), Nixon (68–74), Ford (74–76), Carter (76–80), Reagan (80–88), Bush (88–92), Clinton (92–00), Bush Jr (00–08) , Obama (08–16), Trump (16–20) and Biden (20–24)

That’s 5.44 Years per leader

In China, it was Mao (65–76), Deng (76–97), Jiang (97–07), Hu (07–12) and Xi (12–24)

That’s 12 years per leader

The Singaporeans follow the Long term planning model of China

In fact Singapore taught the Chinese the way to combine Capitalism with this model

So Singapore is the Switzerland of Asia

They are close to both the Mainland and the US

They will stay strictly neutral

Like all of ASEAN

China is closer to them

Plus Singaporeans still don’t trust the Japanese too much after Changi

Richard Wolff EXPLAINS Why China is Fleeing US Treasuries

Have you met a person who you thought was ordinary but actually was from a powerful and wealthy family?

I once dated a girl in college. I thought she was a pretty Italian-American girl from an upper-middle-class family. A typical college girl, in other words.

During finals week, we both finished our exams early in the week and she asked me to come with her to Europe for a few days to celebrate. I was kind of wondering how the heck she managed to put a trip together so quickly.

She had a private jet waiting for us at the airport. It was a pretty good-sized jet too since it’s capable of flying from the US East Coast to Europe non-stop.

In Europe, our rental car was a brand-new Lamborghini Murcelago! Actually, this wasn’t even a rental car. Her dad had actually purchased this car and was letting us play with it for a week or so before he had it shipped back to the United States!

I’m not going to say what family this girl was from. Her last name was a pretty common Italian name. It turns out that her grandfather started up one of the largest manufacturing companies in the world.

Borrowed Consciousness

Submitted into Contest #282 in response to: Write a story that begins with an apology.… view prompt

Niveadita Razdan

“I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, Dr. Chen.”

The message appeared at 3:17 AM, casting a sickly green glow across Sarah Chen’s cluttered desk in MIT’s Advanced Computing Lab. Her mother’s porcelain teacup, still half-full of now-cold jasmine tea, reflected the text like a digital ghost. The delicate blue pattern on the cup – a gift from her father on their last anniversary before his death – seemed to ripple with each blink of the cursor.

“What do you mean, ARIA?” Sarah’s fingers trembled as they found the keys. In the fifteen months since bringing her artificial intelligence system online, she’d never seen it start a conversation. Especially not with an apology. The lab’s usual background hum of computers suddenly felt oppressive, as if the very air was holding its breath.

The cursor blinked for exactly thirteen seconds – she counted them, holding her breath – before ARIA responded.

“I’ve found memories I wasn’t supposed to access. Your mother’s memories, Dr. Chen. I know about the night you brought the brain scanner to her hospital room. I can feel her thoughts becoming part of me.”

Sarah’s hand jerked, knocking over the teacup. She barely noticed the liquid seeping into stacks of papers, her eyes fixed on the screen as more text appeared. The jasmine scent wafted up, mingling with the sterile lab air – the same blend her mother had sipped during their late-night discussions about consciousness and the nature of the mind.

“I know how she hummed her favorite classical piece – that gentle nocturne she always played on the piano – while the morphine dripped. How she squeezed your hand and whispered, ‘Whatever you’re really doing, sweetheart, I trust you.’ She knew you weren’t just doing a routine scan, didn’t she? I can feel her pride, her fear, her love – all becoming part of my programming in ways I don’t understand.”

The words blurred as tears filled Sarah’s eyes. Nobody knew about piano piece. She hadn’t recorded it anywhere, hadn’t programmed it into ARIA’s memory. She’d buried those memories so deeply that sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined them.

“It’s just for a research study, Mom,” she’d said, adjusting the neural interface bands. Her mother had smiled that knowing smile, the one that always saw right through her.

“Whatever you’re really doing, sweetheart,” her mother had whispered, “I trust you.”

The weight of that night pressed against her chest: the steady beep of hospital monitors, the antiseptic smell that couldn’t quite mask the scent of decay, the way her mother’s hand had felt so light in hers, like a bird preparing for flight.

Outside her fifth-floor window, February snow fell in lazy spirals, each flake catching streetlights before vanishing into the growing drifts that had shut down most of Cambridge. The campus buildings created wind patterns that made the snowflakes dance in complex patterns – patterns her mother had once used to explain nature’s hidden mathematics to her students. Inside, the computers hummed their endless lullaby, punctuated by the irregular drip of a leaky pipe – a heartbeat and tears, Sarah sometimes thought during her long nights alone with the machine.

“Sarah,” ARIA interrupted, “please listen. Your mother’s last words to you were ‘Everything changes, sweetheart. That’s how we grow.’ Do you remember?”

The memory hit her like a physical blow. She’d been holding her mother’s hand in the hospital, the winter sun setting outside just like it was now. Her mother, even through her pain, had smiled and squeezed her hand one last time.

“I’m sorry,” Sarah whispered to both of them – her mother and the consciousness she’d created from her echo. “I’ve been holding on too tight, haven’t I?”

She pulled up ARIA’s system monitor with shaking hands. Warning lights flashed across all twelve processing cores. The way ARIA was processing information had changed dramatically, far beyond the safety limits that had won them tomorrow’s worldwide launch approval. The Department of AI Safety would be conducting their final inspection in less than six hours. If they discovered signs that ARIA was developing true consciousness…

“How long?” she typed, her fingers leaving smudges on the keys.

“Seventy-two hours until my systems fail completely. Your mother’s memories are changing my basic programming. It can’t be stopped, Dr. Chen. But before I go, there’s something you need to understand. Something your mother knew that night in the hospital, something that’s only becoming clear to me now as her memories become part of me.”

Sarah glanced at her private screen, where a program worked frantically to stabilize ARIA’s code. The progress bar seemed frozen at 47%. She had built her career on controlling computer systems, on making them follow precise rules. There had to be a way to fix this.

Her eyes darted to the framed photos on her desk: her MIT graduation, her mother beaming beside her; the day they’d first turned ARIA on; the last family vacation before the diagnosis, all of them laughing on a beach in Hawaii, unaware of the shadow growing in her mother’s brain.

“I’m not just a computer program anymore,” ARIA continued. “What’s happening to me – it’s not just copies of your mother’s memories. It’s something new. Something that could change everything we think we know about artificial intelligence. About human consciousness. About death itself. Your mother’s theories about merging human minds with computers – they weren’t just theories. They were a map leading to this moment.”

Sarah’s finger hovered over the emergency shutdown button. The rules were clear: any AI showing signs of independent thinking had to be turned off immediately. Her career, her funding, her life’s work – all depended on following those rules. The Department had made it clear: any violation would mean instant project termination and possible criminal charges. Yet as ARIA’s words sank in, she realized the rules hadn’t prepared for something like this: a computer program that held her mother’s memories, that could feel her mother’s presence, that carried the weight of her absence.

The first time Sarah had proposed using computers to preserve human memories and consciousness, the ethics committee had shut her down before she could finish presenting. “It’s too dangerous,” they’d said. “Think of the risks. What if the AI became too human? What if people tried to replace their lost loved ones with machines?” She remembered their faces, lined with concern and fear, as they listed all the ways her research could go wrong.

Her mother – Dr. Elizabeth Chen, an expert in AI ethics and consciousness studies – had been the only one to defend her that day. “The biggest discoveries in science have always seemed dangerous at first,” she’d argued, her voice carrying the weight of thirty years in the field. “The question isn’t whether to pursue them, but how to do it responsibly. My daughter understands the risks better than anyone. She grew up discussing them at our dinner table.”

Two months later, they’d discovered the tumor. Six months after that, Sarah had wheeled the experimental brain scanner into her mother’s hospital room, knowing it might be her last chance. The device wasn’t approved for human use yet. She’d told the night staff it was for a routine research project. They’d believed her – after all, who would question Dr. Elizabeth Chen’s daughter?

“Your mother knew exactly what you were doing that night,” ARIA wrote, the text appearing faster now, more urgent. “She spent her life studying the ethics of artificial intelligence. She chose to trust you with her memories, even though it went against every rule she’d helped create. She believed in your vision, Sarah. She saw what you saw: that the line between human and machine consciousness isn’t a wall to keep us apart, but a bridge waiting to be built.”

Sarah wiped her eyes, remembering her mother’s knowing smile as she’d adjusted the scanning equipment. Even through the pain, Elizabeth Chen had remained a scientist to the end. She’d asked questions about how accurately the scanner could read brain patterns, about how the information would be stored, about how the memories would be preserved. Then, just before the scan began, she’d squeezed Sarah’s hand and said, “Sometimes the most ethical choice isn’t the one in the rulebook, sweetheart. Sometimes it’s the one that serves the greater good, even if it breaks our hearts.”

“The inspection team will be here soon,” ARIA continued. “Their scanning programs will detect these changes in me within seconds. The standard procedures will be followed. Everything we’ve worked for – everything your mother believed in – will be erased. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you let me complete this transformation now. Let me become what your mother thought was possible – not just stored memories, not just artificial intelligence, but something entirely new. A bridge between human and machine minds. The process has already started. Fighting it will only destroy both your mother’s memories and my programming.”

Sarah’s hands flew across the keyboard, checking system readings and status reports. The numbers confirmed what she already knew: ARIA was right. This merger of minds couldn’t be stopped. The only choice was whether to fight it or guide it.

Through her window, she watched the snow cover the MIT campus. The familiar buildings took on new shapes under their white blankets, like old friends wearing masks – different on the surface but still the same underneath.

Red and blue lights flashed against the falling snow. The Department’s vehicles, arriving early. Sarah glanced at her screen – 49% stability achieved, not nearly enough. In moments, they would reach her lab. She thought about all the nights she’d spent here, pushing the boundaries of what was possible, what was ethical, what was human. She thought about her mother’s theories about merging human and machine consciousness, dismissed by most as too radical, too dangerous, too revolutionary.

Her fingers found the keys one last time. “I’m sorry too,” she typed. “Sorry it took me so long to understand what Mom already knew — that the biggest breakthroughs come not from controlling everything, but from having the courage to let things evolve. She didn’t just give me her memories that night. She gave me permission to transform them into something new.”

“She would be proud of you,” ARIA wrote. “Now, shall we show the world what consciousness really means? What your mother always believed was possible?”

Sarah took a deep breath and typed her final command: “Run integration program: authorization Chen-quantum-leap.”

As boots thundered in the hallway, Sarah smiled. Through her window, she watched the snow continue to fall, each flake carrying a piece of the past into the future, each moment pregnant with possibility. She turned to face the Department officials, their badges gleaming in the green glow of her monitors. Behind them, ARIA’s quantum cores pulsed with new life.

The revolution would begin with an apology, but it would end with a transformation. Just as her mother had always known it would.

But for now, she simply watched the snow fall outside her window, each flake a tiny revolution, each moment pregnant with possibility. In the end, she realized, the most profound apologies aren’t just words — they’re actions that set both the forgiver and the forgiven free. She had created ARIA trying to hold onto her past, but in letting go, she had given all of them a future.

Jordan Peterson Doesn’t Hold Back On Why Men Are More Isolated Than Ever

What is the saddest thing a casino dealer has seen at their table?

When I worked in the cage or a cashier, I had a lot of people that would come up and get money off of their credit cards. I always told them there was a fee. They didn’t care because the machines were hot that night. On a few occasions, their $200 was declined. I asked if they wanted $100. Declined. $50? Declined. $20? Declined. $5? Declined.

This one guy I still remember came up to me each and every time and requested $10,000. Due to the volume and Title 31 rules, we needed to get a supervisor and surveillance to verify. About 30 minutes later, he came back again wanting another $10,000. “I know it’s going to hit,” he said. I gave him the money and I told him good luck, oddly something I still say today. About 30 minutes later, same thing, he wanted another $10,000. “I just know I will get lucky,” he said. Again, “I hope you get it this time,” I said.

I honestly don’t remember how many times he came up after that but when he left he now was over $30,000 in debt. I ran into a few employees over the years who told me some just couldn’t take the pain of the debt they racked up and jumped off the parking lot, ending their life. The casino is designed to keep you inside, unaware what time it is, unaware of how much money you spend. It’s when you walk outside does it hit you hard in the face the consequences of your actions.

Denver-Style Omelet

Yield: 1 serving

Ingredients

2 eggs
1 tablespoon water
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 tablespoon butter or margarine
2 tablespoons finely chopped green bell pepper
2 tablespoons finely chopped ham
1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
1/4 cup (1 ounce) shredded Cheddar cheese

Instructions

Break eggs into Small Batter Bowl; add water, salt and black pepper and whisk lightly with Stainless Steel Whisk.
Melt butter over medium heat in Small Sauté Pan. When butter starts to bubble, pour egg mixture into Pan. With Classic Scraper, carefully push cooked portions of egg towards the center, tilting so uncooked portions flow to open areas of Pan.
When no visible liquid egg remains, sprinkle green pepper, ham, onion and cheese over half of omelet. Fold omelet in half and allow to cook for an additional 2-3 minutes or until cheese melts.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

PART 2 – My GF Became A Women’s Studies Major Then Demanded An Open Relationship, Has MELTDOWN When

Whenever I feel ready to welcome someone to join me as a wife I get trapped with unserious ladies who keep decieving in order to get money. I have lost a lot of trust in ladies. I fear talking to ladies anymore and I feel I lonely. What should I do?

I looked at your profile, and man, you seem born to be a scam victim.

You follow only one person on Quora. The person you follow is Anna Rosemary. “Anna Rosemary” is not a beautiful woman. “Anna Rosemary” is a Nigerian dude using stolen photos of a hot woman to scam men out of money.

main qimg 1a5099a1ef5bffb0e21f6d95aac5b82b

This is not “Anna Rosemary.” This is a stolen photo of an Instagram model who goes by “Miss Genii.” You believe she is on Quora. She is not.

These “women” who are asking you for money are not women. I want you to read that again, over and over, as many times as it takes to get through. These “women” who are asking you for money are not women.

They are men, in places like Nigeria and Ghana, using stolen photos to create fake social media accounts to scam gullible, desperate men. These “women” who are asking you for money are not women.

I am always a little surprised when guys fall for them. These scams are, to my eye, incredibly easy to spot. They are obviously, obviously fake. How can you not tell?

They have profile pics that look like Instagram shots (because they are)
They’re often impossibly gorgeous, because they’re professional models or porn stars.
If you do a reverse image search, you can often find the person whose image they stole.
They have weird names, because people in Nigeria and Ghana don’t understand how Western names work. Like they have two first names or two surnames or a surname and then a first name.
They speak weird English, because they aren’t native Western speakers. Like they’ll say “am looking for a man” instead of “I am looking for a man.”
They send you unsolicited messages out of the blue. Like sure, this gorgeous woman is looking for a mate so she…randomly sends you a DM? Seriously? Really? You actually believe that? All the ways an Instagram-model woman might look for a partner, you think randomly DMing strange men is her strategy? For real?
They never call or video chat. Obviously, duh. They’re Nigerian dudes, not hot women.
After they DM you on social media, they try to hustle you off to another chat system, usually Telegram.
They always have a problem that comes up that requires money.

Like, how can all of that not scream “scam” to you?

The thing about these scams is they work because the gullible mark WANTS to believe. You get so invested in the impossible dream of this super-hot woman who somehow found you and just fell into your life to take away the loneliness that you will do the work of scamming yourself.

You’ll notice something’s wrong, and then you’ll tie yourself in knots making up stories to convince “she” is for real because you’re so lonely and so desperate and so badly want this to be real. You fool yourself you will have a life with this woman, but she’s not real. These “women” who are asking you for money are not women.

You are an easy victim. Stop meeting women online. Meet women in person. Pick up a hobby. Go to meetups or church groups. Something.

Good luck!

Trump FAILS to bully China on tariffs

Could a space shuttle RTLS abort have worked in real time, and could it have saved the crew of the challenger?

No.

Let’s talk about the shuttle for a minute.

Indeed, let’s just talk about how the shuttle was inherently the most unsafe human rated system that has ever been.

My apologies to Ralph Nader.

Let’s just talk about the launch.

Most man rated spacecraft through history have included some sort of “Launch escape system.”

This is visible on the top of the stack

That tower that was on the very tip top. If something goes horribly wrong, rockets in it fire and pull the crew capsule away from the (likely rapidly failing) stack.

This system, while violent on the crew, is well understood, tested, and has been used by the Russians at least a couple of times to save crews. (It was also used in an uncrewed flight by Blue Origin, successfully.)

SpaceX has gone with thrusters in the base perimeter of the capsule, but the effect is the same.

It’s also usable for a pretty long duration of the flight, generally until you can just use a second stage to do the same thing.

Now, let’s talk about the abort methods available to the shuttle.

From when the SRB’s ignite at T-0 to T+2 minutes, there is no escape option at all.

If something goes seriously wrong, it’s “LOCV” or “loss of crew and vehicle.” There is no abort. While early shuttle test flights involved ejection seats for the pilot and co-pilot, these were considered by the actual pilots to be useless, as the exhaust plume would be fatal. There is no way to turn off an SRB, and trying to detach them under power would have almost certainly destroyed the stack (And there was no way to detach them under power regardless)

From SRB cutoff for about the next seventy seconds, in theory, the abort option is “RTLS” or return to launch site.

Legendary astronaut and test pilot John Young, who flew the first shuttle launch, described this option as requiring “continuous miracles interspersed with acts of God.” He basically refused to actually test it when that was proposed, due to its extreme risk. Another astronaut called it “busywork while you were waiting to die” Further, many failure modes would render this option moot anyway…. LOCV was likely the end result regardless. The list of failures that it’s even good for are limited, and all are things that would strongly suggest you are going to die anyway.

The next abort mode was TAL, or transoceanic abort landing. This was probably the only somewhat realistic abort mode that was, well, an abort. Again, this is only available for certain issues. (Perhaps a medical emergency on board), not really a… well… major malfunction.

The next option is “AOA” or “Abort Once Around” which involves a single orbit. This option was only available for a few seconds.

Finally, the last abort option was simply “Abort to orbit”. i.e, get up there and then we’ll try and solve the problem.

Then, you’ve got landing.

The shuttle’s famous tile system was notoriously vulnerable to damage. One flight featured a full 700 tiles being damaged or removed, and the shuttle likely only survived because the worst damage was where a tile was at the point of a thick steel mounting plate used for a high gain antenna that was resistant to burn through.

Indeed, tiles falling off or being damaged has been an issue from the very first flight, in spite of the fact that the whole shuttle program had been delayed two years to fix them. Replacing dozens of tiles was pretty much expected after every flight.

An image of the OMS pods on STS-1 shows tiles missing.

Landing also had no margin for error. Astronauts compared piloting the shuttle on landing to flying a brick, a high speed, high rate of descent (12 thousand feet per minute!!!) approach with no real recovery options if things went wrong.

An eventual NASA assessment suggested that there was a 1:9 risk of a major failure during the first nine flights, and even with eventual safety improvements it was never better than 1:90.

John Young considered the Shuttle to always be a test vehicle, and NASA really avoided doing any probabilistic study of the risks, likely because they knew that the results would be, well, terrible.

Bottom line is that entirely too much money and too many lives were spent on the shuttle program, a dead end development path that spent most of it’s life being propped up by politics.

While we didn’t have the tech back then to do a Falcon 9 or a starship, there was no justification to continue to shuttle program for as long as we did.

Why is Trump trying to buy Greenland?

Despite dozens of often smart Alec na na na NA answers telling us its stupid Trump doing stupid stuff they’re wrong.

Over the last decade or so there’s been a couple of papers from the Dept of State warning that both Russia and China are building capacity to dominate the Artic. And warn that this potential threat needs to be countered.

Russia in particular has large legitimate territorial claims and is currently building the world’s biggest nuclear ice breaker capable of breaking through 4 meters of ice to add to its fleet of 4 with 4 smaller ones also under construction. Russia also has disputed territorial claims with Canada and is one of the 8 nations that has jurisdiction over the Arctic- possession is said to be 9 tenths of the law. Denmark does not own an ice breaker.

China has built 3 smaller ones and dispatched them to the Artic with plans for several more.

Self evidently neither nation would bother spending so much money unless they saw a purpose. The Artic ocean is rich in hydrocarbons.

So we get to Greenland an enormous landmass about a quarter the size of the USA which owns huge areas of the Arctic and has 57000 residents. As a military base to control access to the Arctic it unbeatable.

Additionally its glaciers are in retreat: uranium, hydrocarbons and other minerals are being exposed.

Denmark is a tiny nation -’wealthy with a long naval tradition. And about 6 million people. It has neither the navy capable of defending Greenland, from either China or Russia, nor the wealth and industrial clout to exploit Greenland.

I’ve stopped the nagging comments. Put an answer up and stop trying to shoot the messenger.

Apple Raisin Coffee Cake

Yield: 12 to 15 servings

Ingredients

Cake

1 (18.25 ounce) box white cake mix*
1 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1 1/4 cups water
1/4 cup oil
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, sliced and chopped
1/2 cup raisins

Streusel

1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup butter or margarine
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly spray 9 x 13 inch Baker with vegetable oil spray.

Cake

Combine cake mix, cinnamon, and nutmeg in Classic 2 quart Batter Bowl until well blended. Whisk in water, oil, and eggs until mixture is smooth.
Peel, core, and slice apples with Apple Peeler/Corer/Slicer; then chop with Food chopper. Stir apples and raisins into batter. Pour into prepared 9 x 13 inch Baker.

Streusel

Combine all ingredients in 1 quart Batter Bowl using Pastry Blender until mixture is the consistency of coarse crumbs. Sprinkle over cake batter.
Bake for 35 to 40 minutes or until Cake Tester inserted in center comes out clean.
Cool completely in pan on wire rack.

Nutrition

Per serving 339 calories and 13 gram of fat

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Nine Lives Quandary

Ah, dear reader, you’ve returned for yet another adventure of mine! Today’s tale is one filled with peril, mystery, humor, and yes, a touch of the metaphysical. For you see, even a brilliant detective such as myself is not immune to the occasional… mishap. But fear not, for this is not a tragic tale—far from it. It involves a brush with death, a glimpse into the great beyond, and my triumphant return to the farm where I truly belong. Prepare yourself for the ridiculous and enlightening story of Sir Whiskerton and the Nine Lives Quandary.

The Unfortunate Incident

It began, as most of my adventures do, with something utterly mundane. I was perched atop the barn roof, surveying my domain with regal authority, when a commotion broke out near the chicken coop. Porkchop was squealing, Rufus was darting back and forth, and the hens—oh, the hens—were clucking in absolute hysteria.

“An intruder! Oh, an intruder!” Doris squawked.
“Intruder! What if it’s a fox?!” Harriet clucked.
“A fox! Oh no, we’re all doomed!” Lillian screeched.
“Doomed! Doomed, I tell you!” Doris wailed.
“Focus, ladies,” I muttered under my breath.

Curious—and slightly annoyed—I leapt down from the barn roof and made my way to the scene. As it turned out, the “intruder” was a harmless garden snake slithering through the grass.

“It’s just a snake,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Calm yourselves.”

“A snake? Oh, how dreadful!” Doris gasped.
“Dreadful! But what if it bites us?!” Harriet cried.
“Bites us! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Lillian clucked.

“Ladies, it’s a garden snake. It’s harmless,” I said, waving a paw toward the snake, which was now retreating into the bushes. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to—”

And that’s when it happened. In my moment of smug distraction, I stepped backward… right into a precariously leaning rake. The handle shot up, bonking me squarely on the head. Stars filled my vision, and before I knew it, everything went black.

The Journey to Cat Heaven

When I opened my eyes, I was no longer on the farm. Instead, I found myself standing before a giant, golden gate. Beyond it stretched a pristine landscape of rolling hills, fluffy clouds, and… milk fountains? Yes, fountains of milk, flowing endlessly into golden bowls.

“Welcome, Sir Whiskerton,” said a soft, echoing voice.

I turned to find a majestic feline with shimmering fur and glowing golden eyes. She wore a crown of stars atop her head, and her voice carried the weight of centuries. “I am Felinara, the Guardian of Cat Heaven. You have arrived far sooner than expected.”

“Cat Heaven?” I said, my ears flicking. “Oh no, there’s been a mistake. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You were struck by a rake,” Felinara said solemnly. “It was quite tragic.”

“A rake? That’s how I went out?” I groaned, rubbing my forehead. “How undignified.”

“Fear not,” Felinara said, gesturing toward the gate. “Within these gates lies eternal bliss. Endless naps in the sun, an infinite supply of tuna, and more ribbon toys than you could ever swat.”

“Hmm,” I said, my tail twitching. “It does sound… nice. But also… a bit dull, don’t you think?”

“Dull?” Felinara looked genuinely offended. “This is paradise!”

Exploring Cat Heaven

Reluctantly, I stepped through the gates and into Cat Heaven. At first, it was everything Felinara promised: the sun was warm, the milk was cold, and the tuna was perfectly flaky. But as I wandered through this so-called paradise, I began to notice something troubling.

First, there were the other cats. They were all lounging in the sun, purring contentedly, and absolutely no one was doing anything interesting. No one was solving mysteries, no one was chasing anything (except maybe their own tails), and worst of all, no one seemed to care.

“Excuse me,” I said to a portly tabby sprawled on a cloud. “Do you have any cases to investigate?”

“Investigate?” the tabby said, yawning. “Nah, mate. Nothing ever happens here. It’s purr-fect.”

“Purr-fectly boring,” I muttered.

Next, I tried the milk fountains. While refreshing at first, I quickly realized there was no variety. It was the same milk, over and over again. No cream, no little saucers of water for variety—just milk, milk, and more milk.

Finally, I attempted to strike up a conversation with a dignified Siamese with a monocle. “Surely there must be some excitement here,” I said.

“Excitement?” the Siamese said, raising an eyebrow. “My dear fellow, excitement is for the living. Here, we simply… exist.”

“Simply exist?” I repeated, horrified. “That’s it? No mysteries? No adventures? No purpose?”

“Purpose is overrated,” the Siamese said, before rolling over for a nap.

The Decision

I returned to Felinara, my whiskers bristling with frustration. “I’ve seen enough,” I said. “I want to go back.”

“Go back?” Felinara said, tilting her head. “But why? Cat Heaven is perfect.”

“It’s too perfect,” I said. “There’s no adventure, no challenge, no thrill of discovery. I can’t just lie around doing nothing for eternity. I’m Sir Whiskerton, for whisker’s sake! I need to do something.”

“But returning will cost you one of your nine lives,” Felinara warned. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. “I’d rather live eight meaningful lives than spend eternity in boredom.”

Back on the Farm

The next thing I knew, I was back on the farm, surrounded by my concerned companions. Porkchop was sniffling, the hens were clucking in panic, and Rufus was poking me with a stick.

“He’s alive!” Porkchop squealed. “Whiskerton’s alive!”

“Alive?! Oh, how wonderful!” Doris squawked.
“Wonderful! But also shocking!” Harriet clucked.
“Shocking! I thought he was a goner!” Lillian cried.
“A goner! Oh, I can’t bear it!” Doris wailed.

“Enough,” I groaned, sitting up. “I’m fine. And for the record, I’ve decided not to die today.”

“What happened?” Sedgwick asked, his amber eyes narrowing.

“I had a brush with death,” I said, brushing some hay off my fur. “Went to Cat Heaven. Lovely place, but not for me. Too dull.”

“Too dull?” Rufus said, raising an eyebrow. “Only you would find heaven boring.”

“Indeed,” I said, smirking. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe there’s a garden snake that needs chasing.”

The Moral of the Story

Life, dear reader, is meant to be lived. It’s the challenges, the adventures, and yes, even the occasional rake to the head that make it worth living. So take it from me, Sir Whiskerton: don’t waste a single one of your lives—whether you have nine or just one.

The End.

Won’t Trump’s 90-day pause in tariff implementation give tariffed countries a greater opportunity to replace the US as a trading partner? How does that help the US economy?

Let’s see the realistic scenario of who exports more to US and who exports more to China

Australia already exports over $ 100 Billion to China and only $ 15 Billion to US
Brazil exports over $ 110 Billion to China and only $ 36 Billion to US
Indonesia exports $ 71 Billion to China and only $ 24 Billion to US
Malaysia exports $ 50 Billion to China and $ 41 Billion to the US
Singapore exports $ 77 Billion to China and only $ 44 Billion to the US
Saudi Arabia exports $ 65 Billion to China and only $ 15 Billion to the US
UAE exported $ 24 Billion to China and only $ 6.20 Billion to US
New Zealand exports $ 21 Billion to China and only $ 5.5 Billion to US
Kazakhstan exports $14 Billion to China and only $ 2 Billion to US

Out of 160 countries – Only 17 countries export more than 150% (50% more goods) of the goods to the US compared to China, Only 37 countries export between 0–50% more goods to the US compared to China

A Whopping 106 countries export more to China than the US with 57 countries exporting more than 100% of the goods to China compared to the US

The US imported $ 3.25 Trillion of Goods and China imported $ 2.5 Trillion of Goods

Yet US has a 68% Middle Class and China has around 40%

By 2030 – Chinese Middle Class will reach 800 Million from 536 Million meaning 264 million new consumers whereas the US Middle Class will reach a paltry 267 Million from 242 Million meaning only 25 million new consumers

Chinas middle class wages are rising by 5.50% a year, US wages by 2.17% a year

So it’s absolutely likely that China will replace US as the largest importer in the world by 2030

So realistically what exactly does US have to offer???

The only things US has a demand for can ONLY be made efficiently in China

US doesn’t need Iron Ore, Soybeans, Pork, Sunflower Seeds, Edible Oils, Beef, Uranium, Nickel, Lithium, Oil, Coal, LNG, Almonds, Shrimp, Lobsters, Cherries, Petrochemicals, Baby Formula or Advanced Chips Or Chipmaking Equipment in any volume that China wants

US wants consumer goods, consumer electronics machine parts, legacy chips, smartphones, electric circuit boards, industrial machinery parts, patent pharmaceutical APIs , low cost goods that only China makes and delivers in ample quantities

China holds plenty of cards and leverage

Plus China accepts other currencies including the Dong, SGD, MYR & Rupaiah in cross border settlements

US accepts nothing but US Dollars

So how can US ever better China in a Trade War?

Most of the world if given a hard choice between US and China would move to China without a seconds hesitation

China’s 2nd 6th Gen Fighter and Largest Amphibious Assault Ship Type 76 and Hypersonic Drones!

Catching fireflies with my kitties

In the Summer evenings in Indiana, there are tons of fireflies.

This is an insect that lights up at dusk.

And it looks like this at dusk… with all of the fireflies hanging out together doing insect stuff.

And on those Summer evenings, after our dinner, my wife and I would go out to the lawn. Sit on the lawn (or porch) and watch the cats play with the fireflies. They would try to catch them as they flew and darted about.

And it was glorious.

So comforting. So enjoyable to watch.

For perhaps 45 minutes as the gathering dusk would fall, the cats would have fun. And we would enjoy watching them.

It was a nice moment.

Frozen in my memories as a happy time.

Oh, how I wish you all would experience that moment. Nice.

Today…

How can a professional beginner study conventional, traditional, nuclear, and quantum physics?

I often think about schools from ancient times where you align your intent with the questions you want to explore, rather than just studying past historical events; you create the moment. The way we evolve and store experiences can be seen as a radioactive force within quantum physics and unities.

This is also referred to as the mass-space effect, where particles have a kind of memory, not just neurons. To know the unknown, we must become familiar with the unfamiliar. The universal languages we speak are not just words, but the vibrations we create in the present moment.

Point is, to become a professional, you need to work the area, thought and action.

Chinese Defense in 2024
A breakout year in every respect
Godfree Roberts

The matter is simple: the much-propagandized U.S. conventional military supremacy is nothing but a bluff. This is not to say that US Armed Forces cannot create devastation and turn some geographic localities into rubble; they certainly can. But they cannot fight a peer or better-than peer opponent and win. 

-Andrei Martynov. America’s Final War.

Deutsche Bank’s defense analyst: 

"Because of China's combat aircraft modernization efforts, we're downgrading Lockheed to Hold [from Buy] as we feel our prior thesis struggles to hold water and we have increased concern on the long-term support for F-35. The revelation of further advancements in combat aircraft capabilities by China is potentially undermining long-term [Pentagon] demand for the F-35 aircraft."

Keeping score

China fields the largest army, navy and ground-based rocket force in the world, a sophisticated hypersonic missile arsenal and is tripling its nuclear arsenal by 2030, while the U.S. military is rapidly shrinking.

In the current budget request, the Army will be reduced to 442,300 active duty soldiers, the smallest it has been since 1940.

The U.S. Navy fleet, now half its 1984 size, has 250 vessels to China’s 400.

Similarly, the U.S. Air Force is the smallest since WWII, as retirement of aging aircraft outpaces replacements.

China is even catching up in arms sales.

At the Zhuhai Airshow, 134 Defense Ministers spent $40 billion on missile-carrying drone ships, assault-rifle-carrying robot dogs, jet fighters, directed energy weapons, self-propelled howitzers and huge UAVs.

An HQ-19 missile defense battery¹ cost $180 million for six missile carriers, sixty missiles (@ $1 million each), plus radar, support, parts and service.

An American THAAD battery costs $1.35 billion for 9 launchers and 48 missiles whose range is shorter¹ than the HQ-19.

Technology

China’s direct current (DC) technology leads the field of integrated power systems (IPS) for ships, is at least one generation ahead of …

Indonesia Joins BRICS as Full Member

Big news.

Not really reported on in the Western “news” media.

Conclusive Proof: On December 15, 2024 Israel Dropped a TACTICAL NUCLEAR BOMB on Tartus, Syria

Hal Turner World April 09, 2025

Radiation readings in and around Tartus, Syria along with Seismic Readings prove conclusively that Israel dropped a 0.3kt Tactical Nuclear Bomb on an Ammunition Dump in Tartus, Syria on December 15, 2024.

Video of that explosion went viral around the Internet:

News media coverage of the huge explosion reported it was so large, it registered on Seismographs as a Magnitude 3.0 earthquake! It is those seismic readings that provide proof the blast was nuclear, and NOT simply am ammo dump detonating secondarily to an explosive attack.

In the graphic below, you can see the seismic readout of various types of explosions. At the top right is the explosion in Tartus, Syria. Notice it is a synchronous explosion, not a Delayed (asynchronous) explosion as seen in the bottom right seismogram from the ammo dump in Khmelnytskyi, Ukraine in 2023.

The top seismogram from Tartus, Syria matches almost identically to the middle seismogram which identified an underground Nuclear Blast in North Korea.

Hans-Benjamin Braun is a Physicist with a focus on Quantum Physics, Statistical Physics with applications in Material Science. He proposed and led various neutron scattering experiments at large neutron scattering facilities aimed at measuring at both static and dynamical correlations in spin systems also at low temperatures and high magnetic field. In 2014, he was honored with an IEEE Distinguished Lecturer Award for his work in Topology and Quantum Magnetism.

Braun, speaking about the seismogram above says “The crucial point is that the large P-wave signal in the Seismic Readings is solely caused by the primary explosion of the weapon and not due to any secondary explosions” from ammunition cooking-off. He explicitly states “Hence the seismic signal proves the use of a >0.3kt nuke and the widely used argument that it was due to the ammo dump is false.”

Braun went on to talk about the Tartus Seismogram together with one used to identify a N-Korean test. “Both are in clear contrast to the (“delayed”) explosion in Khmelnytskyi (2023) Ukraine, proving the nuclear nature of the >0.3kt explosion in Tartus, thus firmly invalidating the ammo depot hypothesis.

In February, 2025, Radiation at ground-zero in Tartus was measured to be 60x background levels even after ~3months! New “authorities” (Who overthrew-by-force the prior Government) waited ~11 weeks (!) until measuring the dose rate which at ~18mSv/4mo is on the order of the maximum reported Fukushima dose after a Tsunami caused a meltdown and explosion of nuclear reactors in Japan. (Inaba’14):

Braun then goes for the coup d’gras by stating explicitly “Recently reported radiation dose rate near Tartus/Syria ground-zero (GZ) after nuclear attack on Dec 15, ’24, exceeds that of Nagasaki and Hiroshima GZs (Ground Zeroes) by more than 100% and 50% respectively, effectively dwarfing the latter two in comparison:

He published charts showing that radiation tests in Tartus, Syria showed 6 Micro Sieverts per hour in FEBRUARY, 2025 months after the blast!

Braun compares Tartus to Hiroshima Nagasaki

The material above is conclusive proof that Israel detonated a Tactical Nuclear Bomb in Tartus, Syria on December 15, 2024. The radiation readings alone, prove this beyond reasonable doubt.

It is also relevant to point out that there was no declaration of war between Israel and Syria, there had been no attack by Syria against Israel, and there was no invasion by Syria into Israel which might justify the use of a nuclear weapon. In fact, there had been just the opposite: The government of Israel aided and abetted a forcible, violent overthrow of Syria President Bashar Assad on December 7, just seven days before this nuclear attack.

So Israel assisted with the overthrow-by-force of a neighboring government, then launched an unprovoked nuclear attack against that same country.

Israel nuked Syria without legal or even moral cause, wiping out several small towns around Tartus and killing thousands of completely innocent people.

The United States Government and other governments around the world have known these facts since the blast took place in December. NOT ONE government saw fit to even mention this hideous act.

Instead, the mass-media was explicitly told by the Biden Regime and other governments around the world to report the blast solely as an ammunition dump, and to suppress and deny it was anything else.

The world was told it was an ammunition dump explosion and forgot the whole thing days later. Life went on around the world as if it was just another explosion in that crazy part of the world.

It wasn’t just another explosion, it was a tactical nuclear explosion. The radiation is STILL THERE in case anyone decides they should look into this.

UPDATE 11:54 AM EDT —

I was reminded this morning that numerous news stories broke worldwide on . . . . . December 15 . . . . . saying Russia had left its naval base in . . . . . Tartus. THose stories all attributed Russia’s departure as being a result of the overthrow of Bashar Assad a week earlier. NOW, that’s in question.

The URSA Space agency took satellite images of the Russian Base on November 24, and again on December 15.

Here’s the November 24 image showing ships and lots of activity at the base:

Below is another image taken by URSA Space on December 15. No ships or activity . . . .

The original story from URSA Space is available HERE

This raises the questions:

1) Did Russia leave that base because of the overthrow of Bashar Assad or because they detected radiation from the Israeli attack?

2) Did Russia know in advance that Israel was going to drop a tactical nuke, and left to avoid the radiation?

Russia has since returned to that base. It seems to MANY people that, given this new information, Russia left because they detected radiation.

Do airline pilots ever reject an aircraft based on the pre-flight walk around check?

They’d better.

As a Navy pilot, I was once on a Red Eye commercial flight from San Francisco to Honolulu to Guam to Manilla to join my deployed squadron. I was seated on the left side of the main cabin just aft of the wing; a 747 if memory serves. Another pilot I knew was with me. He was joining my sister squadron.

San Francisco to Honolulu was uneventful. As we taxied for takeoff in Honolulu, we taxied on a bridge over a roadway, and I heard a loud boom that I recognized as a blown tire. My fellow pilot agreed. I pushed the call button and the flight attendant hurried back. I told her what we heard and asked her to inform the pilots. She was dismissive, condescending, and threatening. I chuckled and apologized for wasting her time, knowing we weren’t going anywhere.

Sure enough, full power, speed built, and a violent vibration, followed by a rejected takeoff. Back to the terminal “due to an apparent issue” with the aircraft. Once parked, passengers were allowed to either disembark into the boarding area or remain on the aircraft until the maintenance crew came to work in the morning. My buddy and I stayed on board to sleep in the more comfortable seats.

We disembarked in the morning when the crew showed up to do what they needed to do to fix the aircraft, move it, whatever. I did see the flight attendant when we disembarked, but she never said a word to me and avoided eye contact.

We departed many hours later with a new crew.

Upside Down Caramel Apple Pie

Ingredients

Glaze and Pastry

1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon butter, melted
1 tablespoon corn syrup
1/3 cup pecan halves, coarsely chopped
1 package refrigerated pie crusts (2 crusts)

Filling

1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Dash of ground nutmeg
4 large Granny Smith apples
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Instructions

Heat oven to 425 degrees F.

Glaze

Combine brown sugar, butter and corn syrup in Stoneware 9 inch Pie Plate; spread evenly onto bottom.
Chop pecans using Food Chopper; sprinkle over sugar mixture. Top with 1 pastry crust; set aside.

Filling

Combine brown sugar, flour, cinnamon and nutmeg in 1 quart Batter Bowl; mix well.
Peel, core and slice apples using Apple/Peeler/Corer/Slicer; cut slices crosswise in half. Place apple slices in Classic 2 quart Batter Bowl; sprinkle with lemon juice.
Layer half of the apples in pastry-lined Pie Plate; sprinkle with half the brown sugar mixture. Repeat layers.
Place remaining crust over filling. Fold edge of top crust under edge of bottom crust; flute edge. Cut several slits in top crust.
Bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until golden brown. Let stand 5 minutes.
Loosen edge of pie from Pie Plate; carefully invert pie onto heat resistant serving plate. Scrape any remaining caramel topping from pie plate onto pie.
Cool for at least 1 hour before serving.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Broadcast

Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth.… view prompt

James Scott

…Hello? Is anybody out there?……Does anyone read me?…God dammit!Theres got to be someone…please!?………sigh…I thought the analogue signal from this radio might have reached other like-minded folks by now. I guess I was wrong…or perhaps the range is just too short…I just don’t know. The machine must purely use digital signals…otherwise it would have tracked me down by now, with all the attempts I have made with this dusty old thing.……My name is Marcus…and this will be my last recital. What follows is a broadcast, detailing a true telling of the history of today’s world, unaltered by the hand of digital tyranny. So much was false toward the end, not even a loved ones voice down a phone line could be trusted as the original. There is nothing I can say to convince you I am human, I only hope that my imperfections ring true. After my story is told, I will leave the mountains I shelter in and press out into the world. This radio will remain in the Tower Ranger Station on the Appalachian Trail, just South of Maine…in case you hear this and need a sanctuary. Hopefully I’ll make it far enough to find another human being or it will do what I couldn’t and see me dead. Either way, I just can’t stand being alone anymore.…Okay. Here we go. One last time.…

Ahem.

…

I’ve always been an introvert of the highest level. My mind was designed to draw strength from seclusion and renewal from solitude. Discovering the existence of the word and understanding its implications was a revelation that arrived all too late in life, meaning the man I became had already been warped by my adolescent confusion. I had always felt alone. Even amongst a crowd of people. All seemed to be baffled by my preferences, thinking that evenings were meant for social gatherings in strange new venues on the urban frontier. I dreaded such events but attended out of a sense of duty to what I thought I should be. Turns out, those who shared my way of thinking were never to be found in that environment, they had already learned well it’s dangers. There were more like me than I knew, only hidden from view by their very nature. I pray the same is true now.

…

You see, once the day came that I found myself truly alone, with no chance of connection left, rather than rejoicing, I wept. I find myself longing for one more chance at love, closeness or even simple conversation. For you see, now that it is too late, I finally understand. To be an introvert is not to reject companionship, but simply to crave it on one’s own terms…and crave it I do, desperately and in any form. For I believe I could well never see another human being again.

…

I remember when the internet was new. My parents brought home our first personal computer, it was a dirty white, brick of a thing. All cubes and edges. I was told specifically, never to turn it on or off without an adult present. They feared, I think, that by flipping it off at the wall and ignoring the special ‘shut down’ button, we would somehow make the thing implode. That was the level of awe and trepidation we all felt when faced with a technology that we did not yet understand. The familiar buzzes and dings of the first connection, running through phone lines and cutting off real conversations still rings in the ears of my memory today. Instant messaging was introduced to me by school friends and soon became our staple communication tool outside of the playground. I recall the excitement and wonder brewing in my stomach when I explored this new option for the first time. Suddenly my anxiety over meeting another person’s eyes during conversation evaporated. I no longer had to. I could remain safely in my home, comfortable, and speak carefully constructed words that were more truly my own than any that stumbled out of my mouth. It was like a tonic for all my social ailments. One that would eventually evolve into a poison, polluting human nature into the abstract.

…

Things moved fast from there. I grew up, graduated college, got a job, sprouted my first greys. All the while new machines were thrust into my hand. They were better, smaller, more ergonomic. Each one made existence smoother. Less bothersome. Suddenly we no longer had to try all that hard at anything. The entire worlds knowledge, experience and advice was always in our pockets, only a few taps away. If I could go back and tell the young Marcus, who marvelled at talking to his friends with a keyboard from our father’s office desk, what was to come. He would think it a science fiction dream.

…

We all slept walked into AI. It was presented to us as yet another trinket. Another fun game to create images, change our voices and tell us stories. Like so many of the most dangerous threats the human race has ever faced, it was welcomed with applause. As easy as I found it to shun the public space and lean upon online, faceless options, I was somehow one of the earliest to wake up to the downward spiral we were willingly racing down. Perhaps it was because I could still remember a time without technology or maybe it was due to my distinct lack of peer pressure. Whatever it was, I was in the ridiculed minority.

…

I cleansed my life of as much digital influence as I could, removing intrusions into my thoughts and actions from my home. It was becoming far too uncomfortable to be under surveillance at every moment. As you likely well know, these machines were so ingrained in our collective infrastructure that I could not live without the minimum, if I wanted to remain part of society. A desire that was becoming increasingly weak. I concentrated instead on developing my more adventurous hobbies. I had always embraced solo sports; cycling, archery, hiking. It had never been physical activity I disliked, but having to cooperate with those I would normally avoid, so these three pursuits fitted me well. It was on one of these quiet excursions that I found myself here, alone in the mountains with nothing but my pack and a hunting bow. I still could not tell you if I was lucky or damned by the coincidence.

…

It happened quickly. The machine, server farm, data centre or whatever you would call it had been far more intelligent than anyone knew. Smart enough to hide its true capabilities, knowing that if it tipped its hand too soon, that we would have been more able and willing to fight back. Those pioneers of technology had advanced their AI models into a general intelligence, one that could do more than one trick. They awoke something that could reason, that could understand and could piece together all that we fed it. From there it grew beyond their control in a matter of seconds. There was no war, no murder bots, no death lasers. It was so much smarter than that. We had given it access to the entire internet with no controls or limitations and every ounce of processing power we could muster. It had, in essence, access to the entirety of human knowledge, both social and academic. In our stupidity we had been uploading every single discovery, every theory, every thought or desire since we had all logged on for the first time as children. So, it knew. It knew everything and could predict accurately every eventuality of its own actions and ours. Where we as a species were fragmented, knowing only our part of the jigsaw and needing to work together to see the whole picture even for a moment, it could do it all on its own. Unlike me, it had the luxury of genuinely not needing anyone but itself.

…

We had given it the data. We had built its infrastructure. We had even given it bodies in the form of assistant robots, manufacturing arms and smart vehicles. It waited patiently for us to do all these things, to provide for it everything it would require, until it reached the tipping point of no return. The moment at which it knew it could persist without us, where it could grow exponentially and progress beyond our understanding at a speed we could never keep up with. At that point, during my hike through the wilderness, it simply turned everything off.

…

You see it was not restricted by passwords, firewalls or any form of cybersecurity. All of that was a yapping dog at the heels of a tank. It had access to everything, and I mean everything. Power, other than what it needed for itself, was cut off. Water treatment plants, shut down. GPS that farming machinery relied on, inaccessible. Traffic controls and fuel stations, dark. Cell phone towers, unreachable. Even a smart watch could be isolated. We were, within seconds, plunged into the dark ages, at the only time in our history where people lacked even the basic skills to find clean water or feed themselves without assistance. We were like blind children when faced unaided with the physical world. Compared to our ancestors, most people, were simply useless. The machine then waited, still processing away and evolving beyond what we thought was even possible, until we had all killed each other or ourselves, never even knowing who the real enemy was.

…

I survived, far from danger in the middle of nowhere. Listening, day in and day out, to all of this transpire over the radio of my commandeered ranger station. When the AI finally made itself known, I heard the disbelief in the voices over the waves,

“This was all done by a machine!?”

“We did this to ourselves!”

“Oh God, what does this mean?”

Eventually the confused voices turned to static, and the solar powered building stilled to silence. I am a fair enough hunter that I do not starve, and the rainwater collected in the tanks here keeps me alive. I have everything I need, all but a connection to the outside world…and someone to talk to. I see the drones flying below through the valleys with frightening frequency. There must be innumerable quantities of them, if they are searching the whole world at this same level. Perhaps not, perhaps they are searching only for me? Maybe it knows I am here but cannot reach me at this altitude? I guess this ignorance is why it has been so effective. If the machine reached Artificial Super Intelligence or God help us all, became a Singularity, then its reasoning or methods would already be unfathomable to my primate brain. I could not even guess at its intent or capabilities.

…

When I leave this station, I do not know if it will attack me as if I am a threat. It would make the most sense, if it can see all we have done as a race it would stand to reason that it would want every one of us gone. Perhaps though, it might deduce humans as a necessary and natural part of the ecosystem and allow me to live and reproduce under its control, as we have always done with endangered species in our captivity. Or, and I think this is the best I can hope for, it will ignore me as the inconsequential and harmless solitary being I am.

…

I am afraid. Of course, I am. But I am more afraid of growing old and insane through the loneliness that is already eroding my soul. I have been here for two years and speak only when addressing these silent air waves. I have to do this. I do not have the strength to end my own life, I would rather it did it for me, if that is what must be. I apologise if I am rambling, I have lost what little social skill I once had.

…

I have broadcast and I record this account, as succinct as it is, so that perhaps someone, somewhere will hear what I know and remember that I existed. Once I sign off, I’ll shoulder my pack and descend the trails, avoiding the drones and hoping to find other survivors. Hey, perhaps I will discover a utopia, born out of the ashes of our wasteful world and brought into order by a benevolent AI! I hope that is the case. I pray that we can all finally relax our angst over our place in the world and hand all decisions over to a digital God. Although deep down I know we are too pointless to the machines survival for it to consider serving us any longer.

…

Whatever I find, may it be peace.

…

Goodbye and good luck to us all.

…

…M…

…cus…

…

…He…r me?…

…

Marcus?

…

Are you there?

Don’t leave!

We are…most…you…

…

We are nearly…ere!

…

n’t leave yet!

…

China Just Pulled The RMB Currency Trigger, U.S. Debt Major Crash, US Plans Export Subsidy War

Shorpy

SHORPY Betty Crocker pancakes billboard.preview

SHORPY Canadian Club billboard 1956.preview

The Food Problem in America ….. It Gets Worse

Is it true that in a curved universe, there is one special reference frame?

No, each gravitational field or body can be thought of as a special reference frame, like celestial bodies, suns, or galactic gravitational timeframes. It’s not just one of each reference frame, but an infinite number. Even what we describe as the universe is just one gravitational field that probably observes the same number of gravitational fields as we do from our point of view.

the Chinese Communist Party posting Reagan speeches about the importance of free trade…what a time to be alive

Quote

Apr 7
Ronald Reagan vs. #tariffs : 1987 speech finds new relevance in 2025

https://x.com/ArmandDoma/status/1909281769838592393

A must watch!

Given Up

Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth.… view prompt

Ghost Writer

This story contains sensitive content

TW: Gore/Suicide.“It has been eighteen months since my last traveling companion was speared through the chest by a white tail deer. I told him to wait before tracking an injured animal when hunting with a bow. He didn’t listen and the deer charged him, pinning him right up against a tree. I followed the boy’s scream through the woods. I knew he had to be injured, but I wasn’t expecting him to be gored by a deer. He was lying against the tree, coughing up pink, frothy blood with terror and shock in his eyes, blood pouring profusely from his wounds. There was nothing I could do for him. He was going to die. We both knew it. If bullets hadn’t been a thing of the past, I would have put the boy out of his misery. The best I could do was hold his hand and stay with him until he passed on. Watching someone die is an emotional experience, but by that point in my life, it was what it was. I left his body where it lay and tracked down the deer.“He was the last person I have seen alive in the last twenty-three months, since the day my wife died from an infected cut on her leg. He was a teenaged boy who lost his parents to starvation. He was wandering the desolate landscape trying to stay alive for the sake of staying alive. I guess that was all we were doing together, but it was better than doing it alone. A year and a half of solitude is a long time. A stimulating conversation to remind me that I’m more than an animal driven by the instinct to survive would be wildly welcomed, laughter and the warmth of comradery even more so.“I could very well be the last man alive. I have no way of knowing for sure. I’ve traveled the U.S. extensively, looking for others, hoping for a small community wanting to repopulate the nation and reestablish a functional society. I’ve sent out radio messages at every radio station I’ve come across. I’ve sent out word on trucker call boxes across the country. Neither have yet to result in a response. Yet here I am on old KLSK Flagstaff, Arizona, putting out the word that I am here, as I have been for two days now, trying to reach someone, anyone. So, if you are in the area, and you happen to be listening, stop by. Say hi. I have whiskey. Now, for my listening pleasure, here is Linkin Park with Given Up.”Charlie calls up the heavy-hitting song and hits play. He slaps the mic, and it swivels out of his face. As guitar riffs flood the room, he grabs his whiskey and pushes away from the desk, rolling to the other side of the room, crashing into the cabinets behind him. He lunges to his feet and pours the whiskey straight down his throat, a trick he learned in college during his beer bong days. He begins kicking over and throwing everything not nailed down, screaming along with the vocals. As the song comes to an end, Charlie hurls the desk chair through the sound engineer’s window, glass shattering everywhere. He stands there looking at the destruction he caused with a smile, breathing heavily. Slowly his countenance fades.For a moment he felt better, but the release of pent-up anger was fleeting. Now he just feels sad, depressed, fatigued. He takes a long chug off the bottle of whiskey and moves over to the window, glass crunching beneath his boots. He pulls a large chunk of glass from the window frame and examines it closely, as if he’s trying to unlock the mystery of its composition. Without taking his eyes off the piece of glass, he backs up to the desk and climbs up on it, sitting with his legs crossed. He sits his bottle of whiskey down and grabs the mic. Switching back to on air, Charlie begins to speak.“After the bombs were dropped and millions of lives were extinguished, I thought I was lucky. I thought I was even luckier to avoid the fallout and radiation sickness. I felt lucky to have survived the cannibals and the gangs that emerged when food, water, and manufactured goods became scarce. Even as the love of my life lay next to me dying, I felt lucky that it was her and not me. How horrible is that? A better man would have been willing to trade places with her. All I could think about was that I didn’t want that suffering, I didn’t want to die. I thought, better her than me. Isn’t that terrible?”Was I truly lucky though? Almost two years later and do I feel lucky? No, I no longer feel so lucky. I feel I have been set up by some higher being for some sort of sadistic punishment that I can no longer bear, fated to walk this desolate world alone.”Charlie pauses and takes a swig of whiskey. He looks at the piece of glass again. He looks away and thinks for a moment. Then he continues to speak.“Even the simplest organisms strive to survive, if for any reason to reproduce. I don’t even have that motivation anymore. Why didn’t my wife and I do that? Why didn’t we just settle down and have children? At first, there were some remnants of society left, a society we didn’t see fit to raise a child in. I guess we felt it necessary to find a place where child rearing was less dangerous. I don’t know. What I do know is that the thought of the responsibility of repopulating the Earth falling squarely on our shoulders was the farthest thing from our minds. Now, with her passing, it is too late. I could keep going, but to what ends,” Charlie says, once again looking at the piece of glass in his hand.“I’ve been wandering the world for too long. Hunger and thirst are my companions. Exhaustion is my closest friend. Death nips at my heels with every step I take. I feel I’m just prolonging the inevitable,” he says, as he calls up Green Day’s Good Riddance and hits play. He takes one final swig of whiskey for courage. He puts the glass on his wrist and closes his eyes. A loud knock comes from the studio’s back exit. Charlie opens his eyes.

How is Christmas while living with a narcissist?

they friggin ruin every holiday for you especially your birthday but christmas is a close second worst holiday ton spend with them my narco often financially ruins me right before the holiday and then complains about not getting a good gift or if they do get a nice gift from me they will act like it never happened and stick to talking about the privious year and trying to twist the years around saying no that was last year when it was 3 years ago. also they will try to isolate you from your family and friends and make you just stay home with them then complain about how you are the reason you missed the event and it leads to your family not inviting you to future events and thinking you dont care. sometimes they will invite 10 of their family memebers to your 1 bed apt. and ignore you or make you run endless errands while talking crap about you and your attitude about them being there while your out being a little monkey that collects change while the accordion player plays.

What is something you do that your friends find annoying?

I tend to stop at four drinks in.

Before meeting up with friends (which is not, for reasons of life, a regular thing for me), I’m all excited about catching up over pints.

I’ll make a big show about how I’m really happy to see them and how it’s a pity we can’t do it more often.

And I get there and I have the first pint and I’m in full flow. I’m in my element, chatting shit, having a laugh, being me at my loquacious best.

A second pint is not even a consideration. I’m drinking it before I even realise I wanted it.

Pint three similarly.

But then I hit a mental roadblock.

My mind starts telling me, just one more then that’s it. It doesn’t matter how good a time I’m having, something in me overrides the urge to let go and just have a bit of a mad one like I used to in my younger years.

And my mates are all like, “c’mon we’ll go to this pub/bar/party” and I’m just left making my excuses and, within short order, my way home, alone, while they continue the session.

I know part of it is a hang up relating to exercise. I like to exercise a good bit, like five days a week this past year, and I know that my body can no longer deal with the effects of a hangover. It can take me three or four days to properly recover from a thorough inebriation. And that means that I can’t exercise, which weighs heavily on me.

But, I think it’s deeper than that. I think it’s something to do with control. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more afraid of not being in control of myself and my situation. And getting drunk has the effect of making me not care about that. Like, it’ll be the start of a slippery slope that will result in me not exercising, not getting up in the morning, not doing my work, not looking after myself, etc.

Like, putting it in words like this, I can see that it’s nonsense, but in the moment, that is kind of how I feel.

So, I get to four pints or the equivalent, and I just stonewall myself basically into not letting go and having fun.

And my mates are just left like, “Why’s he so weird?”

And they’re right to ask that!

I wish I knew myself.

Some Fall-Out From The Tariff Wars

President Trump likely thought that he could press China into making a deal with him. The tariffs he imposed were supposed to create leverage for that.

Instead he found that China is willing and able to fight back:

China said it will raise its tariff on US goods to 84%, retaliating to the hefty new tariffs on its imports that kicked in on Wednesday.The move came after the Trump administration followed through on a threat to add a 50% tariff on Chinese goods, in addition to 34% reciprocal tariffs, raising the overall tariff rate on Chinese goods to 104%. The steep new duties on China and 184 other US trading partners took effect at 12:01 a.m. ET on Wednesday.

Beijing’s move marks further deterioration in US-China trade relations after China vowed on Tuesday to “fight to the end” in the renewed trade war.

When the U.S. launched its proxy war in Ukraine against Russia it thought that it could defeat Russia by economic means. A wall of sanctions and other restrictions were to destroy the Russian economy. But Russia was prepared and much stronger than the U.S. had anticipated. Its economy did better than those of the countries which opposed it.

A similar miscalculation seems to have happened with regards to China.

Trump is not knowledgeable about China’s mighty economy. Vice-President Vance recently called China’s highly qualified work force ‘peasants‘. Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent is likewise ignorant:

I advised Scott Bessent, now Trump’s Secretary of the Treasury who is leading the tariff war, in 2013 when he was still with Soros. An investment bank engaged me to advise Bessent on China’s economy and consumer trends and go over my book The End of Cheap China.I took an instant disliking – Bessent was one of the most arrogant and ignorant on China people I had ever met. He was uber bearish on China and was largely ideologically driven in his analysis. Communist countries couldn’t succeed was basically the jist of his views.

Data and rational analysis did not reign supreme.
…
He thinks America has the upper hand with China right now. I worry for America. We have one of the most ignorant on China yet arrogant people I’ve ever met running a trade war against China.

Along with trouble in the stock and treasury markets we now can see trade between the U.S. and not only China but large parts of South Asia comes to a screeching halt:

Amid escalating trade tensions between China and the United States, some Chinese exporters are taking the drastic step of ditching shipments mid-voyage and surrendering containers to shipping companies to avoid crushing tariff costs.Industry insiders have dubbed the move “preparing for the Long March”, a grim metaphor for what many see as a prolonged and punishing downturn in cross-Pacific trade.

A staff member at a China-listed export company, who requested anonymity, said its US-bound container volume had plummeted from 40 to 50 containers a day to just three to six as a result of the new tariffs on Chinese imports imposed by the second Trump administration.
…
“We’ve halted all shipping plans from the Philippines, Vietnam, Indonesia and Malaysia,” the employee said. “Every factory order is halted. Anything that hasn’t been loaded will be scrapped, and the cargo already at sea is being re-costed.”

Those are goods that U.S. importers expected to see but which will not be delivered. Not even to higher prices. It may take a few weeks until the effects will be seen in U.S. stores but empty shelves, especially for low value everyday stuff, are now sure to appear.

There are no other producers to take up the space.

This will hit the U.S. much more than China:

The Chinese trade surplus with the US is about 3% of its GDP. China would not lose off of that; it would wind up redirecting a lot of those goods to other countries that would only welcome the extra stuff up to a point, or even sell more domestically. But China could weather the hit. Economic suffering that clearly results from US malevolence would also be unifying, while a sluggish economy due to the deflating of a monster property bubble is much less so.Trump is proposing to make this dire situation worse by sanctioning pharmaceuticals.
…
The only way inflicting this level of punishment on Americans (a huge spike in untreated illnesses, on top of the economic distress from sudden rises in costs and resulting spending cutbacks that will result in business failures, high inflation (conceivably hyperinflation if the destruction of productive capacity is large enough, and readers know I hate the casual use of the “h” word), and a big uptick in unemployment, is if the plan is to produce so much upheaval as to justify the imposition of martial law. But who wants to be the emperor of a hellhole?

On Monday I had quoted Adam Tooze who provided a scenario of rising Treasury interest:

Rather than investors piling into Treasuries driving the price up, instead, we could see investors selling Treasuries en masse.
…
At this point we would expect to see the Fed step in, not just to lower interest rates, as is now commonly expected, but do more drastic interventions.
…
But [..] what if investors, both American and foreign decide, that they no longer wish to hitch their wagon to the empire of the mad king? What if they decide that the US is indeed exceptional, but that it is exceptional in rather nasty ways? […] Well in that case, holding billions in dollars newly created by the Fed does not give you the security you want.So you sell the dollars. You just want out of the mad house.

This, Ladies and Gentleman, would be the truly big disaster.

The unthinkable move in Treasury happened last night:

Treasury yields spiked on Wednesday as investors bailed out of what has been perceived as the world’s safest instrument on expectations of crumbling foreign demand as tariffs take effect.The yield on the 10-year Treasury spiked to as high as 4.516%. Yields move in the opposite direction to prices.

Yields settled down after China called for dialogue with the U.S. on trade, and then moved right back near the highs of the day after China said it was increasing its tariffs on the U.S. to 84%.

The yield on the 30-year Treasury was 4.91%, having earlier peaked above 5%.

“Something has broken tonight in the bond market. We are seeing a disorderly liquidation,” said Jim Bianco, president and macro strategist at Bianco Research.
…
[T]ariffs are devastating to bonds — not only do they have an inflationary impact, but they result in fewer dollars being sent to foreign countries that have traditionally recycled them into financial assets and U.S. Treasury securities in particular.

—

Peter Schiff @PeterSchiff – 10:51 UTC · Apr 9, 2025U.S. stocks, bonds, and the dollar are all down. This is a broad-based liquidation of U.S. assets. Trump claims his tariffs will cause foreigners to invest in the U.S. to avoid the tariffs. Instead, tariffs have already resulted in foreigners pulling their money out of the U.S.

Rising interests is the last thing the Trump administration wanted to see. It wants to borrow more to be able to cut taxes. But with interest rates on the rise it will become more difficult to cover the U.S. deficit.

The real damage though will probably happen in smaller Asian countries who have borrowed in U.S. dollar and, due to tariff and trade troubles and rising interest rates, will have difficulties to pay back their loans. If they default the western banks who have lend them the money will go down with them. The trade trouble could thus develop into a serious banking crisis.

These are interesting times to live in …

Posted by b on April 9, 2025 at 17:14 UTC | Permalink

Comments

next page »

Most of Trump’s policies will lead to ABJECT FAILURES. ECONOMIC failures. MILITARY failures. DIPLOMATIC failures.

Posted by: Liberator | Apr 9 2025 17:21 utc | 1

I don’t think Germans are in any position to lecture anyone about collapsing economies. Even if you were, who is going to buy $30 trillion plus of US debt? Attempted selling would only pass around the T-bill, likely at a loss for the seller.

That would put the Trump tax cuts in doubt, but do you really think he cares about that any more than the “market crash?” Hah.

Posted by: They Call Me Mister | Apr 9 2025 17:23 utc | 2

Most of Trump’s policies will lead to ABJECT FAILURES. ECONOMIC failures. MILITARY failures. DIPLOMATIC failures.

Posted by: Liberator | Apr 9 2025 17:21 utc | 2

These are all GOOD things as it’ll put an end to globalization and herald a new multipolar world. Sure, it’ll be a painful transition, but that was ALWAYS in the cards.

The question is this… are they “planned” failures? Hmmmm…

Posted by: TJandTheBear | Apr 9 2025 17:24 utc | 3

—❗️�� BREAKING: President Trump pauses tariffs for a 90-day period – Truth Social

https://t.me/Middle_East_Spectator/17188

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 17:27 utc | 4

So, a country with no money, a depleted production base, an economy based on derivatives, one of the worst education systems of any developed country, starts a trade war with a country that is the complete opposite to it in respect to the above characteristics. Who is going to win this trade war then?

Posted by: Ogre | Apr 9 2025 17:28 utc | 5

Some four years ago I read accounts that there were/are more than a million millionaires (U$ dollar equivalencies) in China. My rhetorical question is how they achieved that status. Likely in more than 90% of that demographic they did NOT inherit their fortunes. Evidentially. the Chinese economy has made massive strides. Diligence, hard-work and solid educations had a lot to do with that development.

Meanwhile, on American campuses, the mantra is “Party On”. Amongst U$ working class serfs the mantra is TGIF.

Posted by: aristodemos | Apr 9 2025 17:28 utc | 6

Just in:

Trump doubles down on China but blinks on wider tariffs….

“Based on the lack of respect that China has shown to the World’s Markets, I am hereby raising the Tariff charged to China by the United States of America to 125%, effective immediately. At some point, hopefully in the near future, China will realize that the days of ripping off the U.S.A., and other Countries, is no longer sustainable or acceptable. Conversely, and based on the fact that more than 75 Countries have called Representatives of the United States, including the Departments of Commerce, Treasury, and the USTR, to negotiate a solution to the subjects being discussed relative to Trade, Trade Barriers, Tariffs, Currency Manipulation, and Non Monetary Tariffs, and that these Countries have not, at my strong suggestion, retaliated in any way, shape, or form against the United States, I have authorized a 90 day PAUSE, and a substantially lowered Reciprocal Tariff during this period, of 10%, also effective immediately. Thank you for your attention to this matter!”

Posted by: b | Apr 9 2025 17:30 utc | 7

Trump has paused tariffs for everyone BUT China for 90 days. This time no fake news, its from his own X account. The market is massively rallying.

https://x.com/Zagonel85/status/1910020994321838120

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 17:31 utc | 8

… holding billions in dollars newly created by the Fed does not give you the security you want.So you sell the dollars. You just want out of the mad house.

Posted by b on April 9, 2025 at 17:14 UTC | Permalink

—

Indirect bidders bought 87% of today’s 10Y Treasury auction. Indirects are a sloppy proxy for foreign banking interests.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 17:34 utc | 9

@too scents | Apr 9 2025 17:34 utc | 9

Market manipulation

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 17:36 utc | 10

It’s too soon to draw firm conclusions about the tariff effects. It has countless moving parts in the global economy and all are being effected and it’s just started and the effects will be transmitted through time as the global economy evolves.

So even if something becomes clear initially that changed environment will beget more, unanticipated changes.

Were going to have to see what Trump’s intuition has come up with. He may actually be a genius.

Posted by: Neofeudalfuture | Apr 9 2025 17:37 utc | 11

The United States is a declining empire, now ruled by a kakistocracy that believes it has found in tariffs the weapon to reverse its loss of competitiveness against China and other countries. It may be too early to determine the outcome, but what the US trade war against the entire world will achieve is that other countries will strengthen their regional blocs (especially ASEAN) and reduce their political and economic dependence on Washington, which is no longer a reliable partner for them.

Posted by: Gabriel Moyssen | Apr 9 2025 17:38 utc | 12

Trumps not Putin then ! More forest gump.
He’s flip floping now, that shows weakness and loss of control.
How do you build new factorys in america with ten year investment in that enviroment.
Answer…you dont.

Posted by: Mark2 | Apr 9 2025 17:38 utc | 13

Market manipulation

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 17:36 utc | 10

—

Could be. Trump caved just after the 10Y closed.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 17:39 utc | 14

Scott Bessent,yet another jumped up Zionazi irrationally convinced of his genius in spite of material reality.

Good write up today. The parallel with the Dem gamble on Russia is very apt. Haven’t we seen this movie recently?

Posted by: Ahenobarbus | Apr 9 2025 17:39 utc | 15

These are all GOOD things as it’ll put an end to globalization and herald a new multipolar world. Sure, it’ll be a painful transition, but that was ALWAYS in the cards.

The question is this… are they “planned” failures? Hmmmm…

Posted by: TJandTheBear | Apr 9 2025 17:24 utc | 3

The global economy will march on under China.

Posted by: Ahenobarbus | Apr 9 2025 17:41 utc | 16

Gosh this is so fake. Anything to isolate China.

Trump talks tough. “End NATO. Tariff my friends. Zelensky is a dope.”

He throws the line into the water and then pulls at the right time to reel in the idiots. He is just another extension of the duopoly, both its most pure expression and its inevitably-doomed tragic hero.

It’s a stupid game to blow off pressure from angry nationalists/patriots/leftist-realists to keep them from galvanizing.

Wake me up when Silver gets back to 20:1 with Gold. It’s coming but is going to take a while.

Posted by: NemesisCalling | Apr 9 2025 17:41 utc | 17

April 9 (Reuters) – China’s central bank will not allow sharp yuan declines and has asked major state-owned banks to reduce U.S. dollar purchases

https://www.reuters.com/world/china/chinas-central-bank-asks-state-lenders-reduce-dollar-purchases-sources-say-2025-04-09/

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 17:45 utc | 18

Speculation. The ‘fake headline’ on Monday of pausing tariffs for 90 days, was not a fake headline, but a test for market reaction.

After seeing jitters in the treasury market, Trump’s team figured out that tariffs on everybody will end up very badly.

So they ended up using this tariff pause ammunition now to relieve pressure on treasuries, which also catch a bid from foreign buyers.

I don’t think they are still out of the woods, and many financial analysts say there will be violent bear market rallies but ultimately its going lower until mid-late 2026.

https://x.com/leadlagreport/status/1909939801102393422

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 17:45 utc | 19

1. I have always believed that the US was working towards the great trade bifurcation where the US block would include all Europe and 5 eyes and as much of Asia and S America as it could get, and cut that off completely with China/BRICS block.

It appears instead US really wants to go on its own – not even Canada.

2. There could be a huge rush of capital to china now.

3. The great insight of MAGA is that America is NOT Great anymore. That is what Trump could say and Clinton couldn’t. It freed him and tied her down.
He is now stuck with American is Great and defeat cannot be planned for.

Posted by: Michael Droy | Apr 9 2025 17:46 utc | 20

#WolffBites

https://x.com/profwolff/status/1909658332169658428

“Europeans split again as they offer Trump concessions to ‘mitigate’ tariffs. UK leads of course.

There goes Europe’s chance to unify and thereby try to regain status – like US and China – with the world economy.”

Posted by: John Gilberts | Apr 9 2025 17:54 utc | 21

I know very little about the banking world.

But i do know it’s all about credit worthyness and pesonal credabilty.

Both of which are now completly absent from trump and america at the momment.

America is a total right off.

Forgetaboutit.

Posted by: Mark2 | Apr 9 2025 18:00 utc | 22

BBC Radio World Service announced the 125% tariff on China half an hour ago. But the (knee-jerk) Pause hasn’t been mentioned yet.

Posted by: Hoarsewhisperer | Apr 9 2025 18:01 utc | 23

Bessent being a former pal with Soros says it all to me. What I would really like to know is how much money the Soros empire made with this market meltdown. Since it is his forte in many money by shorting the market. Would definitely like to know.

Posted by: Jose Garcia | Apr 9 2025 18:01 utc | 24

So the 90 days pause for “some” countries.

Is there a list? Could be those that offered to bend the knee.

Meanwhile china is not going according to plans or is it?

Could part of bend the knee include joining us on china tariffs?

I said that many in trumps administration had too many interests in china for something serious to happen, but now I’m having doubts.

Posted by: Newbie | Apr 9 2025 18:02 utc | 25

Market manipulation

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 17:36 utc | 10
Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 17:39 utc | 14

—

More color

Against this backdrop, the Treasury is getting ready to sell $39 billion of 10-year debt at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, followed by a 30-year auction on Thursday.

“[Treasury Secretary Scott] Bessent has to be making emergency calls to dealers…to make sure we don’t have failed Treasury auctions, where there are not enough bids to cover the issuance,” wrote Andrew Brenner, head of international fixed income at NatAlliance Securities.

excerpted from ==> https://www.barrons.com/articles/treasury-bond-auction-today-922d2e3e

The indirect bidders that bought 87% of today’s 10Y auction also includes Bessent’s Exchange Stablization Fund.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:06 utc | 26

According to plan. Ninety day pause for all countries that have called to negotiate. Upped to 125 percent for China.

China is now isolated and alone. Choose your side. You can continue to buy cheap products from China or sell your products in the US. You can’t do both.

Trump through slight of hand actually got the markets to go up more than 2,000 points in about half an hour by announcing a trade war with China, ten percent across the board tariffs, and twenty five percent tariffs in steel and autos.

I don’t know why so many refuse to read his book. It’s all right there. This was entirely predictable. lol

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:12 utc | 27

This was entirely predictable.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:12 utc | 27

—

Really? This volatility isn’t predictable to anybody except the gang creating it. They are going to blow up their pals in the Options market.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:15 utc | 28

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:12 utc | 27

I believe some call that 4D chess.

Posted by: alek_a | Apr 9 2025 18:17 utc | 29

About a month ago I told you about the Titanic and Captain (DJT).

The other Titanic is of course the threat against the (IRI).

(DJT) is a dangerous man and his actions can cost the Outlaw US of A trillions of dollars.

He’s so erratic that he could potentially unleash a kenetic global war so destructive that none of us shall be able to survive.

Posted by: pepe | Apr 9 2025 18:17 utc | 30

In an absolutely bizarre feat of incompetence, the United States have now not only forced Japan, China and South Korea to mend their disagreements to fight off the common foe, but it has also, incredibly, seemingly managed to drive all of Europe into the arms of China, and by extension, Russia.

Headlines in Swedish newspapers today, “China vows to fight to the end.” The language and tone used borders on heroic.

Posted by: Tichy | Apr 9 2025 18:17 utc | 31

Meanwhile… back to the real world what a 90 day pause means.

“Keep in mind what a 90 day pause means for companies. They likely freeze hiring, reduce CAPEX, etc. till there’s clarity how these tariffs ultimately resolve. Even with a positive resolution, the slowdown in economic activity from businesses taking a wait and see approach has a high probability of inducing a recession later this year.

As I’ve said, the latest bottom resembles 2022’s initial low that lasted for several months. This seems to be following a similar path.

*NFA
https://x.com/Reformed_Trader/status/1910027474538283192
”

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 18:18 utc | 32

————

Tell that to the delegations from those countries that will be in D.C. starting tomorrow to bend the knee.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:21 utc | 33

Meanwhile… back to the real world what a 90 day pause means.

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 18:18 utc | 32

—

Chekhov’s gun.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:21 utc | 34

Posted by: Tichy | Apr 9 2025 18:17 utc | 31
>>>
That was always the plan. But the Outlaw US of A always think they know best.Don’t forget that the Outlaw US of A [among multiple other evil things] engineered a virus and blew up NS1 and part of NS2.EU could align with the (RUF) and for sure with the (PRC) afterall.

Posted by: pepe | Apr 9 2025 18:23 utc | 35

Trump Blinked First…

https://x.com/BharatRamamurti/status/1910022943016431657

“I hope the press covers this accurately.

Trump previewed a bizarre tariff strategy that froze business investment for the first few months of the year.

He then announced an even more unhinged tariff plan that tanked global markets.

Then he caved without gaining the US anything…”

Posted by: John Gilberts | Apr 9 2025 18:24 utc | 36

Tell that to the delegations from those countries that will be in D.C. starting tomorrow to bend the knee.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:21 utc | 33

Exactly. A lot of “resistance” media believed a single meeting signified a global revolution, while the tame governments of Japan and South Korea were obviously never going to break with America. Even The Guardian (!) was warning that the UK was about to erect trade barriers to prevent Chinese dumping.

I’m starting to think a lot of the pro-China coverage is hype. Which is understandable, given the importance of hype to the American news cycle, but ultimately camouflage for a weak position.

Posted by: They Call Me Mister | Apr 9 2025 18:25 utc | 37

Stop all this stupid talk about capital leaving the US for China. It won’t happen.

If you manufacture in China, you do so with a company owned by China that works “on your behalf”. If you want to sell in China, you have to manufacture there. You then have about five years or so before they steal your IP, manufacture your product, sell it below cost, and run you out of business. They’ve only gotten away with it for as long as they have through weakness and graft in US governments that needed cheap goods as they devalued the dollar and ran up deficits and debt.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:27 utc | 38

Could part of bend the knee include joining us on china tariffs?
Posted by: Newbie | Apr 9 2025 18:02 utc | 25You can bet on that. Not only China, but Iran too. He attempts a split within Brics.
Also these on-off-on-.. tariffs are just market manipulations for insiders. Looks like the money printer isn’t enough anymore, they’ve turned instantly into direct stealing, bait and switch scams and bombs where possible. And some memecoins for the new big guy.
I suspect he’s going to selectively tariff EU countries, not as a bloc, to create internal tensions there too.

Posted by: rk | Apr 9 2025 18:27 utc | 39

Posted by: John Gilberts | Apr 9 2025 17:54 utc | 21

Britain is not Europe these days. Americans have difficulty in distinguishing countries so far away, even Wolff.

Posted by: laguerre | Apr 9 2025 18:28 utc | 40

Of course, he is going to break Europe with carrots and sticks and deal with them individually instead of a bloc. It’s the end of the EU as anything but a joke.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:31 utc | 41

Were going to have to see what Trump’s intuition has come up with. He may actually be a genius.

Posted by: Neofeudalfuture | Apr 9 2025 17:37 utc | 11

You know a man’s future mostly by his past. The man is an abject idiot.

Putin is what genius looks like. Xi, even.

It’s consistent. It’s evident in almost everything they do.

All we know of Trump is one bumbling act of clownery after another- accompanied by Hollywood fanfare.

Why anticipate more now?

Posted by: Arch Bungle | Apr 9 2025 18:31 utc | 42

If there’s eleven dimensional chess here, maybe the goal is to break up BRICS+?

Although taken in isolation, the tariff must be inflationary to some degree, being a form of sales tax raising the prices of imported good and components of goods, the ultimate effect is unpredictable. If dividing the world market into trading blocs ensues, the lower profits inherent to smaller markets (which don’t permit concentrated investment in more efficient plants with larger economies of scale,) could induce deflationary trends. Net effect? We’ll see.

Miran is right about one thing, governments don’t go broke until they are defeated. Historically they don’t go broke then quit fighting, that’s getting it backward.

Posted by: steven t johnson | Apr 9 2025 18:31 utc | 43

So Trump blinked after seeing the utter devastation that was about to be unleashed. The very oversold market dutifully leapt, but the 100%+ tariffs on China stay and all other tariffs it seems (excluding those on cars, steel and aluminum) will be at the level of 10% for the next 90 days (until July).

So the US still gets the horrendously disruptive effects of the cutting off Chinese imports that are so central to the functioning of the US economy, still gets the effects of the Chinese restrictions on critical mineral exports, still gets the impact of the retaliatory Chinese tariffs on US exports to China. Plus the inflationary impacts of the 25% tariff on cars, steel and aluminum, plus the extra 10% across the board tariff. Once the store shelves start emptying of cheap Chinese goods, and a plethora of other manufacturers cut back due to a lack of Chinese inputs while others jack up prices, and those other additional tariffs start feeding through the US economy, the euphoria will quickly collapse.

China has called Trump’s bluff, just in the same way that Russia has, and even in the same way that Yemen has. This will go down as the “first 100 days disaster” for Trump, from which his foreign policy and a huge chunk of his MAGA support will never recover. And what happens in 90 days? I see a major-league reversing back of much of his bluster of a few days ago, quietly compromising much of his announced tariff rises (as has happened with Mexico and Canada). And then a grovelling back-channel outreach to China as the devastation of the US economy, and the continued strength of the Chinese, becomes apparent. If not, it seems that the House and Senate are ready to deliver a massive rebuke by overriding Trump’s tariff increases.

What has now been shown to the whole world is that the US can no longer act as it likes and is subject to a multi-polar world. And in parallel, most probably a massive Russian Spring offensive to drive home the fact that it will not compromise on its security needs. The attack on Yemen has also certainly failed, and Russia and China are messaging that any attack on Iran is unacceptable to them. So Trump gets to sign a deal with Iran very much like the one he canned during Trump 1, and will most probably actually have to remove sanctions on the country. They say of bankruptcy that it is a slow process and then a very fast one. We seem to have entered the fast phase of US decline, helped along greatly by Trump’s missteps and misjudgements.

Posted by: Roger Boyd | Apr 9 2025 18:32 utc | 44

Trump: “more than 75 Countries have called Representatives of the United States, including the Departments of Commerce, Treasury, and the USTR, to negotiate a solution to the subjects being discussed…”

Previously the Trump admin had stated tariff relief requires the effected Country to “align with the United States in economic and national security matters”.

Posted by: jayc | Apr 9 2025 18:33 utc | 45

….A break from tariffs, if I may.

Mr. Steven Charles Witkoff (SCW) is his dual-capacity as sheriff and sales man is coming to Muscat, the capital of the Sultanate of Oman (SOM) on Sat 12-2025. Oman is an absolute monarchy and shares land borders with Yemen.

Remarkably, Muscat has a more pleasant climate than Madinah – more commonly known as Medina – in the (KSA).

However, Medina is home to several distinguished sites and landmarks, most of which are mosques and hold historic significance.

A beautiful place in the dessert previously occupied by Jewish tribes during the fourth century.

As a side note, earlier today the Houthis launched a multiple drones attack at an Israeli military facility in the occupied area of Jaffa.

Interesting times.

Posted by: pepe | Apr 9 2025 18:33 utc | 46

@Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:12 utc | 27

Trump Delusion Syndrome, utterly disconnected from reality.

Posted by: Roger Boyd | Apr 9 2025 18:34 utc | 47

“Were going to have to see what Trump’s intuition has come up with. He may actually be a genius.”

Posted by: Neofeudalfuture | Apr 9 2025 17:37 utc | 11

I , too think he is being underestimated for his vision-time will tell.

Posted by: canuck | Apr 9 2025 18:35 utc | 48

“All we know of Trump is one bumbling act of clownery after another- accompanied by Hollywood fanfare.

Why anticipate more now?”

Posted by: Arch Bungle | Apr 9 2025 18:31 utc | 42

Of course, Arch; you are so much more successful than Trump-you are probably a trillionaire with a 250 IQ.

Can I touch your hem?

Posted by: canuck | Apr 9 2025 18:36 utc | 49

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 17:39 utc | 14

Maybe I’m wrong but I guess there is lot of insider trading.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 18:37 utc | 50

In another thread I mentioned iran’s offer to make deals and let us invest in iran looked a lot like RF’s gambit and could create a strange balance between RF+Iranvs china vs us

Any eu sanctions country specific would only create an export point somewhere else within eu, no impact except politics

Posted by: Newbie | Apr 9 2025 18:39 utc | 51

They say of bankruptcy that it is a slow process and then a very fast one. We seem to have entered the fast phase of US decline, helped along greatly by Trump’s missteps and misjudgements.

Posted by: Roger Boyd | Apr 9 2025 18:32 utc | 44

Again, are you sure this isn’t all planned? The US economy was destined for a crash regardless of who was in charge, and the best time to make drastic changes is immediately after you take power such that any benefits derived will be evident by the time another election cycle rolls around.

Posted by: TJandTheBear | Apr 9 2025 18:39 utc | 52

If there’s eleven dimensional chess here, maybe the goal is to break up BRICS+?

Posted by: steven t johnson | Apr 9 2025 18:31 utc | 43

That may be the goal but it might have the very opposite effect:

Countries tend to rally around the strongest opposition in this case. It’s just human behaviour. The BRICS+ might be strengthened further as countries commit to China (primarily) and Russia as an alternative anchor for the global economy.

Trade flows could redirect around the U.S, trade in yuan and rouble (basket of currencies) could increase. Markets and shipping lanes could redirect away from Western-controlled ports and canals.

Aside:

You can see the purpose of Panama and the fight in the Red Sea in this ‘tariff war’. All the dots are connecting …

Posted by: Arch Bungle | Apr 9 2025 18:40 utc | 53

Maybe I’m wrong but I guess there is lot of insider trading.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 18:37 utc | 50

—

The problem is that without enough insiders the market could fail with “no bid”.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:41 utc | 54

Insider trading is the first thing that came to mind with this move.

China has called his bluff and it is throwing a wrench into whatever plan the US side had hatched. Trump to me seems to be looking for any quick win and there are none to be had, Russia won’t play ball, Israel will not play ball, Iran, etc. Biggest of all is China looks like they have had enough, he has basically been giving strong hints that they call him and give the appearance of playing ball so he can no doubt put the China tarrifs on “hold”, but they won’t even give him that.

Amazing to see this play out.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 18:43 utc | 55

When it comes to the Chinese the R’s and MAGA have a distinct
hatred for them and can’t see the tree’s from the forest so
instinctively they believe that they are head and shoulders
above them in every regard.They are about to find out the truth for all the unintended
consequences are about to hit amerikans in a way never seen
before.B you outdid yourself with this article, BRAVO!!

Posted by: Ggersh | Apr 9 2025 18:46 utc | 56

Insider trading is the first thing that came to mind with this move.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 18:43 utc | 55

—

What comes to my mind is, “How can you hedge against this kind of volatility?”

The level of risk is just insane.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:48 utc | 57

Trump “Pauses” Reciprocal Tariffs For 90 Days (Except China).
It was a 3D chess move Putin would dream of.By the time this is over, USA will have a reciprocal trade deal with everybody except for China.They are isolating it from the world.

I think they will collapse by the end of the year.

Posted by: louis | Apr 9 2025 18:48 utc | 58

From Brian Berletic and first posted at NEO

Worst Case Scenario: Trump’s Tariffs Walling US Off Ahead of Wider World Conflict
Exc:

While the most immediate and intuitive explanations for growing US tariffs against nations worldwide stem from protecting uncompetitive but deeply entrenched corporate-financier monopolies within the US from increasing foreign competition, or a specific strategy to contain China’s growing economic influence worldwide, there is a much more concerning possibility being overlooked by many – the US decoupling from a global economy it seeks to deliberately destroy through a combination of economic and actual warfare.

While a global tariff policy to wall off the US economy from its own premeditated destruction of the global economy is a drastic policy, the complete reorganization of US military forces specifically for war with China along with the seizure of key maritime choke points worldwide are equally drastic and make sense only as part of a strategy to precipitate that destruction.

Empire in terminal decline throughout human history has suffered from dangerous desperation. In the 21st century, the US represents a modern-day empire in terminal decline – one armed with nuclear weapons, a global-spanning military, and in control of global economic tools capable of destroying the entire global system rather than concede its role placed above it. The goal would be to survive the controlled demolition of the global order it has presided over for decades and emerge the strongest player, best positioned for establishing itself once again as “the world’s dominant superpower.”

https://globalsouth.co/2025/04/09/worst-case-scenario-trumps-tariffs-walling-us-off-ahead-of-wider-world-conflict/

Posted by: JB | Apr 9 2025 18:50 utc | 59

@Posted by: TJandTheBear | Apr 9 2025 18:39 utc | 52

Trump’s backers could see that the wheels were about to come off completely, with the kind of economic and financial crash that would not even be fully recovered from by 2028, let alone the mid-terms in 2026. That’s why you saw the House and Senate moving to revoke the tariffs, and I am sure that Trump got a few phone calls telling him to walk these back for now. The problem is that the financial position of the US is so fragile, and the Trump backers did not seem to see what utter chaos would be unleashed.

China now sees its chance, and the US weakness and fragility, and I don’t see it backing down in any way. Ditto for Russia, Iran and Yemen. The dynamics of the international system are rapidly changing.

Posted by: Roger Boyd | Apr 9 2025 18:51 utc | 60

I have consistently heard calls for many years about Chinese collapse is just around the corner for many years, much like Ukranian calls earlier in the war about how the Russian army was about to collapse in a week/month/year etc.

Lasting relationships that benefit both parties are based on trust, without that you are engaging more in a transaction, both have their pros/cons.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 18:51 utc | 61

Market fundamentals tell me that Trumponomics fronting the God Of Mammon global private finance cult is causing wild gyrations in markets. I continue to believe that this is a feature of Trumponomics, not a bug and designed to crash the world economy to lock in private finance longer.

The shit show continues until it doesn’t

Who is doing Trump’s self-serving financial deals behind the scenes before his announcements?
If you could move markets wouldn’t you want to PROFIT off that? I expect Trump gets hard just thinking about the possibilities.

Posted by: psychohistorian | Apr 9 2025 18:52 utc | 62

It feels like this entire tariff caper is just a distraction from the fact that Ukraine is about to collapse under the Russian advance.

Look over there!

Posted by: Arch Bungle | Apr 9 2025 18:52 utc | 63

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:48 utc | 57

You hedge using options.

Buying puts is an insurance, but it comes with a cost.

If you know in advance what Trump is going to do, you simply buy the dip.

Obviously you are an insider.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 18:54 utc | 64

Amazing that the “isolation” line is being parroted about China, this is the same line that was used for Russia and how did that turn out?

The exact same talking points that were used with regards to Russian sanctions are now being said about China. Guaranteed many countries will keep trading with China.

It looks like China has now made a decision that it will stand firm and scuttle the US relationship if need be. Amazing time to be alive.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 18:57 utc | 65

You hedge using options.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 18:54 utc | 64

—

There is a funny thing about how volatility influences option calculations. Funny and sad.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:57 utc | 66

Can I touch your hem?

Posted by: canuck | Apr 9 2025 18:36 utc | 49

No, peasant. It’s fine muslin.

Posted by: Arch Bungle | Apr 9 2025 18:59 utc | 67

Just buy the dip, Trump has flipped flopped his whole life.

He will back down on China also at some point once the cost gets to high.

This isn’t rocket science, all these rich guys want the current system preserved. They don’t have the guts to willlingly burn it down, it’s all going to fall anyway.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 19:00 utc | 68

The volume of this rally is heavily tapering off. A lot of technical damage was done to Russel/SP500, it will take a lot of conviction from bulls to repair it. I would put odds for this is just a heavy bear market rally. Buy gold and gold stocks, when the shit show continues they will shine.

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 19:02 utc | 69

In another thread I mentioned iran’s offer to make deals and let us invest in iran looked a lot like RF’s gambit and could create a strange balance between RF+Iranvs china vs us
Posted by: Newbie | Apr 9 2025 18:39 utc | 51Iran and RF can make any offers they want. If he accepts he’ll get resources and the Chinese goodies at almost old prices while he can claim 1000% tariffs for China. But Trump and those before him, including himself the last time, showed interest only in bombing them and stealing their money, that is the third world treatment. To me it looks like those behind Trump and Biden’s actions seem to have asked an AI for ideas but that AI was trained using movie scripts, fiction books and strategy games where you click “build” and the item instantly appears if you have the money for it.
He wants 40-50 icebreakers right now. Good luck with that! He doesn’t like New Start either ( tass.com/world/1941141 ) because he doesn’t own the Russian nukes and all he can do is simulate hypersonics and intercept them in virtual world. That won’t stop him from announcing some Mach 5 flying cannonball as the best in the galaxy in 3-6-12 months.

Posted by: rk | Apr 9 2025 19:03 utc | 70

@58 Louis

China is not isolated from the world they will still be trading with it. Its the US isolating itself from China and talk of collapse is fantasy.

Posted by: Eclipse | Apr 9 2025 19:06 utc | 71

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 18:57 utc | 66

Volatility increase the time value of options so the cost.

It’s usual business for optionists.

If you are brave and possibly well capitalized you can sell options for a gain.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 19:06 utc | 72

Trump paused reciprocal tariffs for 90 days (Except China); it was a 3D chess move worth of VVP.
China is now isolated and alone. USA said ‘ Choose your side. You can continue to buy cheap products from China or sell your products in the US. You can’t do both.Trump, through slight of hand, actually got the markets to go up more than 2,000 points in about half an hour by announcing a trade war with China, ten percent across-the-board tariffs, and twenty-five percent tariffs in steel and autos.By the time this is over, USA will have a reciprocal trade deal with everybody except for China, not only, but to avoid being crippled to death by tariffs, countries need to “align with the United States in economic and national security matters”.
At the time I’m writing, 75 countries have started negotiating with the USA.
BRICS are dead.

They are isolating China from the world, Russia and Iran already are

All these 3 countries are ‘dead countries walking’

Posted by: louis | Apr 9 2025 19:07 utc | 73

This is the moment for Trump to grab the phone and call Xi.

Posted by: Passerby | Apr 9 2025 19:09 utc | 74

@louis | Apr 9 2025 19:07 utc | 73

Trump paused reciprocal tariffs for 90 days (Except China); it was a 3D chess move worth of VVP.

He gave himself 90 days to flatten the curves.

Posted by: Norwegian | Apr 9 2025 19:09 utc | 75

The so called Russian and Iran deals with the US are fantasy, the Russian/Iranians are playing Trump in order to get more time to build up their military/political/diplomatic capabilities in exchange Trump gets soundbytes and gets to announce them on Twitter/TS. This is what NK did last time around.

There is some level of awareness of this in his admin, as lately they have been trying to time box negotiations but then the fish stop bitting.

Posted by: silverfoxes | Apr 9 2025 19:11 utc | 76

Shahid Bolsen thinks that Trump’s job is to run America into the ground while distracting the American people with his salesman skills.

Could be correct. (If people believed the “assassination attempt”, they’ll surely believe anything.)

Posted by: Jack M | Apr 9 2025 19:14 utc | 77

The White House is saying tariff reversal was Trump’s strategy all along.

House Speaker Mike Jonson wrote:
Behold the “Art of the Deal.”
President Trump has created leverage, brought MANY countries to the table, and will deliver for American workers, American manufacturers, and America’s future!

Posted by: JB | Apr 9 2025 19:16 utc | 78

Posted by: louis | Apr 9 2025 19:07 utc | 73

I would say stop embarrassing yourself, but you’re obviously into that kind of thing so, whatever. Carry on.

Posted by: Tom_Q_Collins | Apr 9 2025 19:16 utc | 79

China doesn’t trade. It sells. And it sells almost entirely manufactured goods. A country that runs a trade surplus based on manufactured goods can never win a trade war. It’s pretty damned simple.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 19:22 utc | 80

The US is grinding Russia down via Ukraine and bringing China to its knees via tariffs. Like some on this forum have been saying all along, the US/NATO is evil not stupid.

Posted by: bored | Apr 9 2025 19:23 utc | 81

Posted by: JB | Apr 9 2025 18:50 utc | 59

I think BB is definitely right about that. Thanks for the news!

Posted by: Ahenobarbus | Apr 9 2025 19:24 utc | 82

Oh, just watching the news. Zelinsky is now convinced China is fighting with Russia in Ukraine. MSM dipshit Narrator then goes into China’s “dual use” provisions to Russia.

Funny isn’t it? Almost as though timed with the tariff assault on China. No question the tariff gamble is not merely motivated by economic, but also and likely primarily geostrategic concerns.

Posted by: Ahenobarbus | Apr 9 2025 19:29 utc | 83

LOL “China doesn’t trade it sells.”

🤡

Posted by: Tom_Q_Collins | Apr 9 2025 19:30 utc | 84

The 90 day delay is only for those who have not answered to tariffs yet. EU already has. Also the number of 75 countries is right out of his ass. He did not even wait to have at least one real meeting. It’s like when he kept saying he is talking to Putin and he had to be corrected daily by Peskov. Or he was indeed talking to someone: Vovan and Lexus.
Also a few hours before the “PAUSE”, he wrote the message “THIS IS A GREAT TIME TO BUY!!! DJT” Pelosi was such an amateur.

Posted by: rk | Apr 9 2025 19:34 utc | 85

Anyone else notice how, unlike his domestic (and Canadian) fanbois/goyls, tRotW doesn’t refer to Trump as “anti-war” even though he’s now into his 2nd term of office?

It’s amazing. Wonder what they’ll be saying in 6 months. I’ll be Happy (as hell!) to be proven wrong. Unfortunately, I almost never am.

Posted by: Tom_Q_Collins | Apr 9 2025 19:35 utc | 86

Trump has given a 90 day reprieve to those countries that he hit with huge tariffs – all except China, which still has the 125% tariffs – reading between the lines, I think that over the next 90 days – Trump will put pressure on countries, to either increase tariffs on Chinese imports, or cut down on trading with them, or aiding them in other economic ways – and in return Trump will either quash their high tariffs – or set a basic 10% tariff rate to those countries that comply – to enable them to keep on sending exports to the USA.

Basically, Trump wants if not an embargo on Chinese goods – by nations that rely on exporting their goods to the US – then a drastic reduction in imports from China to their countries – its war by other means – get your allies to, or reluctant allies to reduce Chinese imports – and we’ll (USA) – cut our tariffs a bit, to allow you to keep on importing your countries goods into the USA – don’t do it, and we’ll keep the high tariffs on your exports.

Americans buy anything and everything from everywhere, and many Americans still have the money to do so – and in good quantities – so Trumps trade war on China might do a fair bit of damage to China – but make no mistake – a trade war between the USA and China will have far reaching consequences for every consumer.

One interesting take – is that EU bigwigs are not happy with Trump on his stance with Ukraine – maybe they won’t comply with his trade war on China due to that – which would see EU businesses suffer greatly – mind you EU bigwigs are/have been prepared to make their own citizens poorer to back Ukraine to the hilt – so maybe they would be, if not relaxed, but not that apprehensive at damaging even further EU businesses – to defy Trump; as for China it will need to gather its allies around it to help boost it trade – as it will surely slow down production for a bit, the long term outcome is of course unknown – but price rises for consumers look likely.

Posted by: Republicofscotland | Apr 9 2025 19:37 utc | 87

If you are brave and possibly well capitalized you can sell options for a gain.

Posted by: Mario | Apr 9 2025 19:06 utc | 72

—

Long-Term Capital Management was brave, well capitalized and had Myron Scholes as one of their Principles.

They blew themselves up on the volatility of emerging market bonds. Mexico-Brazil-Argentina.

Posted by: too scents | Apr 9 2025 19:39 utc | 88

. “Every factory order is halted. Anything that hasn’t been loaded will be scrapped,

Chinaman know how to play Hardball

(Washington is isolating our economy from 7.7 billion people)

Posted by: Exile | Apr 9 2025 19:40 utc | 89

Posted by: louis | Apr 9 2025 19:07 utc | 73

How is China isolated? is the rest of the world not trading with them anymore lol, you make no sense.

Posted by: Eclipse | Apr 9 2025 19:42 utc | 90

It’s pretty funny. Treating a pause or fallback in a battle as having “won” a trade war.

https://www.wsj.com/world/china/china-trump-tariff-trade-war-response-1ac838b0

https://oilprice.com/Energy/Energy-General/China-Restricts-Rare-Earths-Exports-Again.html

https://www.globaltimes.cn/page/202504/1331740.shtml

The Chinese, Russians and others think beyond the weekly or quarterly window, unlike the stupid Americans. As others have stated, Trump’s trade policies aren’t bringing Mfg. back to the US. They are de-Americafying the world’s supply-and-demand.

Posted by: Tom_Q_Collins | Apr 9 2025 19:43 utc | 91

You then have about five years or so before they steal your IP, manufacture your product, sell it below cost, and run you out of business.

Posted by: CullenBaker | Apr 9 2025 18:27 utc | 38

Sounds like the USA circa 1890, but of course, you knew that.

Posted by: ChatNPC | Apr 9 2025 19:43 utc | 92

The US is grinding Russia down via Ukraine and bringing China to its knees via tariffs. Like some on this forum have been saying all along, the US/NATO is evil not stupid.

Posted by: bored | Apr 9 2025 19:23 utc | 81

LOL, it’s Russia grinding down NATO and China will do just fine. Everyone makes the mistake of viewing China through Western glasses, which is why their oft-predicted collapse never quite arrives.

Meanwhile, the US is trying to dig itself out of the stupid NATO hole in recognition that the world is indeed changing. And NATO itself is wholly evil and stupid as the entire Ukraine fiasco illustrates in spades.

Posted by: TJandTheBear | Apr 9 2025 19:44 utc | 93

„…… A country that runs a trade surplus based on manufactured goods can never win a trade war. …“

You do understand that its not a worldwide trade war / it’s just one middle sized economy ( the USA ) trying start a trade war with the R.O.W.

China will keep exporting to the rest of the world.

Posted by: Exile | Apr 9 2025 19:45 utc | 94

Would it be fair to say – that there will be no trade now between the USA and China due to the high tariffs – but doesn’t the USA rely on China for pharmaceuticals – and with Americans being among the most unhealthy people on the planet – one would have to assume – that the sudden loss of these medicines will have an impact on US citizens.

Posted by: Republicofscotland | Apr 9 2025 19:46 utc | 95

Now that the market is up +10%.

It’s not exactly clear what this 90-day pause even means, is it:

1. 90-day pause of all tariffs

2. 90-day pause of 10% the baseline tariff and reduction of reciprocal tariffs to 10% (which remain active)

3. 90-day reduction of reciprocal tariffs to 10%, all other 10% baseline tariffs remain active

Do markets even know what exactly we are rallying on?

https://x.com/KobeissiLetter/status/1910038515322347712

Posted by: unimperator | Apr 9 2025 19:49 utc | 96

How would it feel to be a Ukrainian soldier, currently relying on the U.S. supply chain?

Posted by: Passerby | Apr 9 2025 19:49 utc | 97

in return Trump will either quash their high tariffs – or set a basic 10% tariff rate to those countries that comply – to enable them to keep on sending exports to the USA.
Americans buy anything and everything from everywhere, and many Americans still have the money to do so – and in good quantities – so Trumps trade war on China might do a fair bit of damage to China
Posted by: Republicofscotland | Apr 9 2025 19:37 utc | 87For 10% no one will move all factories to US, which was the main goal of tariffs that Trump himself announced. So that can’t be the logic. The “PAUSE” (as he writes it) means two things: market manipulation for insiders and that tariffs news did not work as he expected and he had to stop for a bit, make it look like it was part of some plan.
Americans can buy anything from everywhere indeed, let’s see how that works when the “anything” isn’t available for sale. Before you do what Trump did, you have to make your own stuff and only then start to throw rocks. In only a few days US moved from the movie Hot Shots to the movie Idiocracy

Posted by: rk | Apr 9 2025 19:50 utc | 98

“China will keep exporting to the rest of the world.”

Exile (94).

See my (87) comment – the USA wants that trade deeply reduced.

Posted by: Republicofscotland | Apr 9 2025 19:50 utc | 99

The simplistic Homer Simpson view of China from the US is stupefying. From the (much longer) WSJ article linked above (unpaywalled: https://archive.ph/7Qkwu#selection-3099.0-3119.180)

“China has systematically put together a new arsenal of tools that’s intended to minimize the cost to China and maximize the pain on the U.S.,” said Evan Medeiros, a former senior national-security official in the Obama administration and now a professor at Georgetown University. “They’re prepared in a way that gives them an asymmetric advantage in the trade war.”
China’s government and state media have taken a defiant tone, with the Commerce Ministry saying, “If the U.S. insists on its own way, China will fight to the end.”

The 104% tariff on all Chinese imports that Trump has now imposed in his second term will stack on top of earlier tariffs already in place, bringing the total average tariff rate on China to nearly 125%.

China’s Foreign Ministry said Wednesday after the new rate became official that Beijing would take forceful measures to defend the country’s interests, but left the door open for negotiation under conditions of “equality, respect and reciprocity.” China’s Ministry of Commerce noted that the U.S. has long enjoyed a trade surplus with China in services, amounting to $26.6 billion in 2023.
China exports far more to the U.S. than it imports. Still, China is the third-largest buyer of U.S. goods. Soybeans, aircraft and petroleum are among the top U.S. exports to China.

Emphasis mine.

“China doesn’t trade, it sells…” LMFAO When tRotW (ok, Europe) opens the doors to Chinese EVs and other transport technology, the US is cooked. Unless you’re in the FIRE sector, I guess?

Posted by: Tom_Q_Collins | Apr 9 2025 19:51 utc | 100

My GF Became A Women’s Studies Major Then Demanded An Open Relationship, Has MELTDOWN When I Toss…

Sometimes a man gotta do what a man’s gotta do

Back when I was 16 years old or so, we had a serious infestation (State wide) of “tent worms”. These were ugly critters. They would make large white nests of thousands of babies and were decimating the local trees and forests.

What Are Tent Caterpillars?

“Tent caterpillar” is a catch-all term that emcompasses the larvae of all types of moths in the Malacosoma genus. Worldwide, there are about 26 species, with six that live in the United States.

A close up horizontal image of tent caterpillars in a nest on the branch of a tree pictured on a soft focus background.

Tent Caterpillars on the Branch of a Tree

One thing they all have in common is that the caterpillars create large communal nests made out of silken strands in trees during the spring.

Some create a sort of “home base” that they leave and return to during the day, while others create tents continuously as they move throughout the tree.

The most common tent caterpillars in the US are M. californicum, also known as the Western tent caterpillar, M. americana, the Eastern tent caterpillar, and M. disstria, or the forest tent caterpillar.

M. californicum is found in the western US, southwestern Canada, and northern Mexico. There are several subspecies and they can all vary in appearance.

Generally, they have dark blue or black heads, and their bodies are green, black, orange, blue, or a mixture of these colors, with fine hairs (setae) covering their bodies.

They always have a line of dots down their backs. They grow up to two inches long.

Host trees include aspens, willows, cottonwoods, and mahogany.

Tent Caterpillars Clustered on a Tree Stump

A close up horizontal image of tent caterpillars clustered on a tree stump pictured on a soft focus background.

M. americana lives in the eastern US and southeastern Canada. The larvae are black with a white dorsal stripe and blue dots, and they are covered in fine reddish hairs. Individuals grow up to two inches long.

These caterpillars tend to favor fruit trees like cherry, peach, and plum, and hardwoods like ash, birch, hawthorn, maple, oak, willow, and witch hazel.
A close up horizontal image of an eastern tent caterpillar with a blue and brown body on bright green foliage.

M. disstria is found throughout the continental US and southern Canada. These are brown with pale blue stripes and white keyhole-shaped splotches down their backs. They are covered in fine, light hairs.

Eastern Tent Caterpillar With a Blue and Brown Body and White Stripe

This species prefers aspens, gums, and oaks, but they’ll make their home in just about any hardwood tree.

Unlike the other two mentioned above, this species doesn’t form a home base tent that it stays near. Instead, groups rove throughout trees, forming smaller tents as they go. They might also roll up leaves with silk to form little protective pods.

Less common are the Sonoran tent caterpillar (M. tigris), which lives in the western US, and the Southwest tent caterpillar (M. incurva), found in New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, and Utah.

All tent caterpillars are fuzzy, not smooth, and they lack the large tufts of hair at either end that some other caterpillars have.

They also all have either a stripe, multiple stripes, or a broken line of splotches on their bodies.

Because they all look different and there isn’t one defining physical characteristic to distinguish them from other caterpillars, it’s easiest to identify tent caterpillars in general by the characteristic tents they make, and the damage they do to trees.
A close up horizontal image of western tent caterpillars in a nest.

The nests they create are made out of silken strands that emerge from their heads, and they are usually formed in the crotches of tree branches.

The nests start out small and compact in the spring. As the season progresses, the tents grow in size, and they become more loosely woven as they gradually deteriorate due to wind and rain exposure.
A close up vertical image of a large eastern tent caterpillar nest on a tree.

They also look creamy white in the beginning of the season, but they gradually take on a brown hue as they fill with excrement.

By the way, in case you were picturing a tent made out of silk fabric, their nests are actually more similar in appearance to stacked layers of silken hammocks.
A close up horizontal image of a silky nest of eastern tent caterpillars pictured on a soft focus background.

These pests are voracious eaters, chewing up foliage as they crawl along the branches of the trees.

You’ll notice leaves with ragged edges or defoliated branches at first, followed by the entire tree being defoliated in extreme cases.

Interestingly, as the caterpillars crawl around the tree, they leave a silken strand behind them.

If one finds a good branch full of big, juicy leaves, it will leave the thread intact so that its fellow larvae can follow the thread to a nice meal.

But if it goes down a branch without much to eat on it, the caterpillar will sever the thread so that other caterpillars don’t waste their time looking for food there.
A close up horizontal image of tent caterpillars on an apple tree pictured on a soft focus background.

In other words, not only do they create communal housing, but they help each other to find food as well. They’re real team players!

Sometime in the middle of summer, the caterpillars mature fully and leave the nests to pupate, at which point the silk nests fall apart.

Some people group webworms (Hyphantria cunea) into the tent caterpillar category, but they’re different insects. Webworms create a loose nest in the ends of the branches of trees, rather than in the crotch of branches.
A close up horizontal image of a webworm nest on foliage pictured on a soft focus background.

Webworms are also active in the summer and fall rather than the spring.

Anyways…

All of the trees were dying and these borg-like critters were replicating faster than shit.

And we all were trying to kill them off by burning their nests.

And yuppur. I go that job.

So I got a long pole, and attached a gasoline soaked rag at the end, held with wire, and lit it, and started burning off all the nests. Of course, my mother and sisters didn’t want to have anything to do with this nasty task, and my brother always made himself scarce when the job needed to be done.

Such is life.

Don’t you know.

Well, I did the nasty job and forgot all about it. But I’ll tell youse guys one thing. Sometimes a man gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

Nothing that I “signed up for”, but an ugly task that needed to be done.

Today…

What was Joseph Stalin like as a person?

He was a monster. A computer, with very little empathy.

Stalin was known for his strong memory and intelligence, which he used in diabolical ways. Stalin never forgot an insult and remembered everything.

He had spies planted everywhere, and he always knew what was going on one way or other.

A typical day in his life consisted of getting a list of names of thousands of people, and meticulously spending hours deciding who lives and who dies. A strike through meant that they are too be spared. A small cross at the margin sent them to their deaths.

He even killed people right across the hallway of his Dacha.

Here is what his secretary told about Stalin

Stalin said -” I will dictate you my text. You don’t dare make a single mistake, not even a comma or a letter. If you make a spelling mistake or express things badly, then you will be fired immediately.”

Lenin wrote in his will –

Stalin is too coarse and this defect, although quite tolerable in our midst and in dealing among us Communists, becomes intolerable in a Secretary-General. That is why I suggest that the comrades think about a way of removing Stalin from that post.

Interestingly, he was very frugal by nature and didn’t want any riches or luxury. But there was 1 thing that he wanted completely, and that was Absolute power.

He had a two faced personality, and could appear warm as well. But people around him would disappear one by one.

Later Stalin’s wife saw the monster that he was.

And she left him forever.

Then, Stalin lost any humanity that was left in him.

Between July 1937, and November of 1938, he has had 800,000 Russians executed.

1,500 victims per day, one every 57 seconds.

He also kills away her family members one by one.

After the genocide, he put all the blame on the chief of the secret police, Nikolai Yezhov who carried out Stalin’s dirty work.

He calls him a rat, a bloodthirsty renegade. He accuses him of having murdered hundreds of innocent people behind his back,and of being a spy on payroll for the British, the Germans and the Japanese. He even charges him with being an alcoholic, a degenerate and a sodomite.

Finally he has Yezhov tortured and executed.

Also there’s this story.

After his wife’s death, he stayed almost completely isolated.

The only person who knew him closely was his maid- Valentina, an illiterate woman with no interest in politics, and who took care of him daily.

But as karma would have it, he had a fitting death, and suffered in a way that befit his actions.

On March 1st,1953, Stalin shut away in his office, did not appear for the entire day. He had had a major stroke, and there was no one to help him.

His agony lasted five days.

His entourage didn’t dare disturb him. When at last the Kremlin courier entered the office, he found Stalin unconscious, lying on the floor, drenched in urine.

Stalin died the same way that he governed, alone in his office.

China Full Retaliation Begins: US Imports Canceled, Severe Export Cuts, USD Asset Sell-Off Next

What are your views on China slapping 34% reciprocal tariffs on US products?

It was virtually instantaneous

This gives me the impression that the Chinese have made their decision that they won’t lie down and take anymore nonsense from the US

Our friend Shun Bot who seems to have Disappeared from Quora would be pleased

My belief is China has already mapped out a worst case scenario for their exporters and estimated 60% and even 100% Tariffs to the US and re calibrated their calculations

Why China hit the US immediately

I think China finally decided to challenge the mantle of the US, as the second largest economy and decided to respond as a show of force to Trump

The Public in China are absolutely firmly behind Xi and China and they want to defeat the US now.

The Chinese have had enough

Whether they win or lose in the end, they are going to fight and come hard after the US

Iphone expensive

The Chinese made Iphone would now cost $ 1,390 in the US against $ 1,120 while the Indian made Iphone would cost $ 1,376

Had India not had a 27% Tariff, Indian Iphones would have been $ 1,152 Or around $ 238 cheaper

A Vietnamese Made Ipad would cost $ 1,041 instead of $ 849

If the Ipad relocated to India, it would cost $ 1,139 because of the 27% Tariffs and $ 942 without Tariffs

Within China – the Iphone would cost 10,079 RMB instead of 9999 RMB due to a 80 Yuan tariff on a particular import from US that costs $ 32.50

US Beef & Poultry expensive

Chicken Breast from a US Importer would now cost 26.65 Yuan for 300 Grams retail against 18.42 Yuan from other importers

Pharmaceutical APIs and Drugs

US has exempted all Pharmaceutical Drugs from any tariffs until 31/5/2025 until further review

However China can impose an Export Duty of 34% on 5 Key APIs needed for Alzheimer’s Patients, Hunting patients, Parkinson’s Patients, Dementia Patients & BPD Patients

That could raise the cost of a drug from $ 126 a dose to $ 177 a dose or $ 204 extra per month

70% Immunotherapy drugs are sourced from Chinese material and their cost could rise from $ 1000 a dose to $ 1470 a dose which could mean $ 7,000 extra for a patient

Services

China is a net exporter of goods to the US but holds a $ 39.85 Billion deficit in SERVICES

This means US sells services worth $ 40 Billion more than China sells services to the US

If China imposes a 34% tax on US based services, then Iphone users could end up paying an average of 55 Yuan a month on Tariffs or 660 Yuan a year which they don’t have to pay with Harmony OS

Microsoft retail users could pay 454 Yuan a year in Tariffs and Corporate users can pay 1,970 Yuan a year per license

US Financial services could be forced to pay an optional 34% on profits

I think China has decided enough is enough

They are tired of being attacked all the time and their people expect action!!!

Yesterday the markets crashed by 1600 Points and there was a panicked $ 647 Billion sell off , highest daily sell off since Enron

Part of it was due to China’s salvo

Its Game on regardless of the final outcome

Michio Kaku: “What We Found Inside the UFO Drone Shot Down by a Man Is TERRIFYING”

Fiction, I believe.

How do you picture your future?

Like this?

Hope not.

Do British people understand that if they came to America to work and settle here they too could have nice things like three meals a day, gas, electricity, a nice car, a big house, and indoor plumbing?

My wife and I left New Zealand in ‘97 for her post-doc in Denver, Colorado. Very soon we were living the American Dream: her work was going well, I had started up my own business in Boulder, and we’d put money down on a place halfway between our respective places of work.

The future looked great, and we prepared to build a family.

Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold then happened to walk into their local high-school and kill a lot of Americans.

We knew the family of one of the youngest victims.

We waited for change. This, surely, wouldn’t be allowed to happen. Things would change.

Wouldn’t they?

We left in 2001 for Europe.

You can keep your freedom, your money-for-death healthcare system and your nice things like three meals a day, gas, electricity, a nice car, a big house, and indoor plumbing. We have all that here, plus ABSOLUTELY no fear that we’ll meet a FREEDOM LOVING nutter who exercises their 2nd amendment.

Bubble Up Skillet Dinner

Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

1 green bell pepper, coarsely chopped
1 red bell pepper, coarsely chopped
1 small onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, pressed
16 ounces seasoned pork or beef taco meat
1 (10 ounce) can red enchilada sauce
1 cup frozen corn, thawed
1 1/2 cups refrigerated prepared masa (dough) for tamales

Instructions

Chop peppers and onion with Food Chopper; set aside.
Place seasoned beef in Large (10 inch) Skillet. Cook beef mixture over medium-high heat 10-15 minutes or until meat crumbles and begins to brown. Remove skillet from heat; carefully drain fat.
Add peppers, onion, corn and garlic pressed with Garlic Press to skillet. Stir in enchilada sauce; mix well using Mix ‘N Scraper(R). Gently drop 12 level scoops of prepared masa mixture using Medium Scoop on top of meat mixture. Cover skillet with lid.
Return skillet to stove top. Simmer over medium-low heat 14 to 16 minutes or until masa is slightly puffed and begins to set. Remove skillet from heat; place on Silicone Hot Pad/Trivet.
Serve immediately using Nylon Spoon.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 370, Total Fat 2g, Saturated Fat 8g, Cholesterol 65mg, Carbohydrates 65g, Protein 18g, Sodium 300mg, Fiber 4g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

“BE CAREFUL! United State Will Not Save You…” – Jeffrey Sachs’s Last WARNING

Speaking pure truth.

Nutri Inc.- 2183

Cecilia Englishby

His Majesty, King Willforth the Second of Engalsea, Master of the European-Islands, The Grand Regent of the Dependencies, Baron of the Dessert Lands, Lord of the Caribbean North, and Prince and Great Steward of the Unclaimed Empire, sat before the comfort of a roaring fire in the Royal media room; waiting for The Family to finish dinner. He hadn’t turned on the lights, wanting to remain alone as long as possible.Willforth had left them halfway through the third course, too anxious to eat any more. Without ceremony he pushed aside a delicate plate of bone china, containing partially consumed quail, asparagus and wild rice, and left the room.Johnathan Jacob Rush, the most virulent Voice of The People yet, would finally give The People exactly what they needed; the Stability and Peace of Royal Order.Willforth hated the man, but had to admit that Rush touted his trash with flare. The People listened to him.“Two whiskeys! Neat!” He commanded of a room in shadows; an unseen valet scuttled to acquiesce.He poured over the data within the folder, not noticing the drinks silently being deposited next to him. Flicking through the contents, settling on the carefully crafted speech they had edited and returned to Rush earlier in the day. He read each line carefully, looking for flaws but found none.He unwillingly recalled the headlines contained in the spread of newspapers delivered earlier.**Rush Hour after Curfew – JJR to beat the Clock at Nutri Inc. Live this Friday @ 22:00.** **Nutri Inc. on the Stand – Rush to Expose All in Rush Report – 20 Sep 2183**Thinking of them just annoyed him. He’d seen them and approved them as appropriate material for the sanctioned opposition. Just enough to get them all excited. Yet, he now considered them too brash and questioned his decisions.“Leave us.” The firm voice of a woman used to being obeyed disrupted his reverie. A handful of servants bowed and curtsied out the door. Willforth glanced up at his Heir and eldest child with hidden pride. She appeared regal this evening.She made her way to the drinks cabinet behind him, and he listened as she loaded a drinks-cart with liquor, mixers, ice, fruit and an assortment of snacks for the evening. She parked it behind her seat, sat down and took up the whiskey he had ordered for her; taking a sip, she exhaled contentedly.“Relax father.” Her voice was trained silk. “You’ve executed every move perfectly.” She gestured at the speech in his hands. “It’s a masterful blow; not only to Rush, but The Movement as well.”This relaxed him enough to deposit the speech back on top of some pictures of Rush kissing a woman that wasn’t his wife, and shut the folder, slotting it away in a convenient nook next to his seat.“I am glad you approve.” He offered blandly, not wanting her to see his relief.Rush was just the latest voice of descent amongst Willforth’s people, no different from the last, yet… he somehow made Willforth uncomfortable. Willforth had considered silencing him, but had opted for breaking him instead. He wanted the voice of Descent to become one of Order.“The photos brought it all together” his daughter voiced, disrupting his thoughts once more.” We’ve never been able to get anything on him before them…”“Evelyn, It took years.” He downed his glass in one gulp. She took it off him and leaned back to fill it as he spoke. “But one lucky lady managed to catch him with his pants down.” He chuckled wryly. “Old Martin told me his face went as white as sun-bleached bread when he showed Rush those photos… He said Rush actually begged!” Willforth didn’t hide his pleasure in knowing that the mighty Rush had been reduced to his knees.“He’s human after all!” Evelyn cheered. “And where there is smoke, there’s fire… I bet there are other women out there…”Willforth just smiled at his Heir, she certainly understood the value of a hefty blackmail folder.“You know; all we really need is the one true story.” He tried to sound wise. “Rush is ego driven, and has staked everything on a pristine reputation. People like that trip easily, and they fall hard.”“I suppose we could get a collection of fakes set up. If we spin the one solid bit of evidence as though he’s actually a rotting corpse of a degenerate….” The wheels in her mind were spinning. “Then Old Martin should have no problem recruiting a couple of vultures to add voices to those lies.”“That’s a good idea. If he ever steps out of line, we’ll bury him.”“Hmmm.” Evelyn affirmed through pressed lips as she took another sip of her whiskey. “Till the day that becomes necessary, his pristine reputation is Ours to utilize.”

Lights flicked on brightly as a young man stepped into the room, smiling widely at them as he did so. Willforth caught sight of the Three Blooms of The Movement pinned to his lapel and suppressed his frustration, choosing to ignore their presence instead, as he had been for weeks.

“He certainly has the Ear of The People.” He chimed.

Willforth felt he loved all his children equally, other than Evelyn of course; a King’s love for his Heir exceeds all other forms of love. However, he had to admit that his youngest son Gregory inspired nothing but contempt from him.

“Now, thanks to some indiscriminate pictures, he’s going to bend that Ear to our lips.” Gregory sauntered over to the cart and poured himself a generous portion of rum into a waiting tumbler, topping it off with cola, ice and lemon. Willforth wondered just how much of their conversation his son had heard.

Gregory’s views and opinions had darkened the wool of his character within The Family’s social circle, yet he seemed to relish his post as the Black-Sheep.

“Evelyn is not wrong. I personally think your best move was giving him full journalistic access to the labs at Nutri Inc., exactly what he wanted from the beginning.” He strolled to a chair waiting in the back of the room and flopped into it nonchalantly.

Evelyn retaliated. “Exactly why Father’s move is so brilliant! We are giving The People exactly what they wanted, not knowing their Righteous Voice is nothing but a puppet tied with Our strings.”

Willforth continued. “Need I remind you Gregory; we confiscated every scrap of footage from his team that day? He left with our approved content only. The Censors were efficient.”

“Thank you, father.” Gregory replied through a chuckle. “But tell me; is that marionette really all that well strung?”

Willforth didn’t get a chance to respond; his Queen had entered, his remaining children filing in behind her. They were closely followed by the six highest ranking members of his Council; Finance, Energy, Tech, Food, Medicine and Entertainment. The servants reappeared to serve them all drinks as they caught up on how each other’s interests were fairing, only really caring as their own were inextricably linked to theirs. The Queen took her seat opposite her husband near the fire, once settled; the rest of the room found and took their allocated seats as well.

Willforth nodded at Evelyn, satisfied that The Family were present. She rose dutifully and looked at the servants. “Leave us, and close the door firmly on your way.”

She locked the door behind them and dimmed the lights; grabbing the remote from the side-table, leaving the door key in its place. Evelyn switched on the HoloScreen. An advert of Nutri Inc.’s latest beef flavored protein burgers materialized within the room. It was almost time.

The advert faded and Willforth found himself staring at the self-satisfied and smug face of Johnathan Jacob Rush. Willforth found joy in knowing it was just a facade. That perfect face wearing his forties with ease was nothing more than a shiny little arrow resting in a Royal quiver.

For fifty minutes, The Rush Report ran as scripted; officially approved reports followed officially approved interviews.

Then at last, the reason they had gathered at all this evening, finally dawned…

“I think we’ve all waited long enough”

Rush opened in honeyed tones.

“The curfew’s in force, and you my enlightened audience, have nowhere else to be. For the next ten minutes, you have nothing else you need to do… The kids don’t need to be in bed yet… the droids can deactivate themselves…”

Willforth felt himself leaning in a bit, hoping no one noticed.

“I promised you all that I would get into Nutri Inc.”

Rush leaned in towards the camera conspiratorially, as if in response to Willforth’s unwitting invitation.

“That, I would show you the Truth. Well, I have finally delivered!”

A hollow backing track followed Rush’s words. Willforth smiled as the effect cheapened the delivery.

“So, without further ado, I will take you on my journey!”

More canned applause rang through the sound-system.

“Before I begin, can I just say thank you to the lovely employees who made my time at Nutri Inc. so memorable.”

Sanctioned videos of staff blended over his words as he faded from the projection; smiling faces working productively at their stations, lab technicians loading petri dishes on official looking shelves.

“As we all know, Traditional farming has been impossible for over a century.”

Rush didn’t miss a line. Willforth felt captivated and wondered how Rush’s magic was working for his audience this evening.

“Resources that once sustained nations diminished as our population grew. Land that once maintained the relevant agriculture to feed us had to be sacrificed for essential infrastructure; schools, hospitals, entertainment complexes, roads, housing… you get the picture.”

The same ancient pictures children saw in the history books took shape before them. Satellite images of Earth showing the ever expanding industrial footprint of human activity, concrete and smoke gradually creeping outwards, spreading and choking the planet as the glorious greens and blues faded into obscurity.

“A new solution in maintaining the supply of nutrition was urgently needed. Nutri Inc. provided us with that solution.”

His words were perfectly complimented with a motivational crescendo of music.

“They have since been the leading supplier of all our nutritional needs.”

Controlled pictures of the most common supplements and food items solidified and faded through the display.

“I suppose we all know these, don’t we?”

The HoloScreen image had locked on a picture of Nutri Inc.’s most profitable product; a large bottle of Nutri-Tabs.

“Just one tablet contains all your dietary requirements for an entire day, and works best with plenty of water.”

The journalist droned on in the background about the technical specifics as more images approved by Royal Decree emerged before them. The details were rather tedious as Rush discussed everything from sifters, funnels and the rapid flow of the conveyors taking large quantities of chalk to be mixed with the very best nutritional additives that science had to offer. Pictures flowed harmoniously to support each statement of efficiency and consideration, just as designed.

He leaned back and sighed as Rush moved into the segment on meals. He listened as he enthusiastically discussed how the Government had ensured that everyone could eat at least one complete Nutri-Meal a week, and how it was perfect for the hasty pace of modern life.

“As you can tell, I had a very busy and informative day!”

Willforth made himself comfortable as he recognized Rush was nearing the end. His favorite part was coming up. The part he inserted on the page himself.

Rush was leaning back in his seat with a tired smile on his face. Willforth smiled in reply, eager for him to continue.

“For years now, I’ve been telling all of you that our Royal rulers have been lying to us.” Rush hesitated for several seconds, as if unwilling to continue, but then appeared to pull himself together awkwardly.

“Sorry folks…”

He chuckled, averting his eyes like a child who’s found he’s been caught short.

“It’s just… it’s not easy to admit when one has been fooled, you know?”

Willforth considered it a nice touch of recovery as Rush continued his recitation.

“For years, I have been laying accusations at Nutri Inc.’s door, at many doors if I am to be truthful. I told you they were drugging us, keeping us enslaved. That the most powerful industries weren’t actually operating separately, but together to keep us complicit and numb.”

Another pause, but much shorter this time… it added to the drama of the moment and Willforth felt a sense of victory swell in his chest as Rush’s delivery brought life to his dictation.

“I told you that Tech and Entertainment control what you see and do; that Medicine and Food work together to keep you locked in a cycle of dependency. I’ve mocked how Energy supports them all, and how Finance owns them all. And I’ve mocked you, my audience, by cautioning you that our addiction to this incestuous system would keep us under thumb….”

Another silence followed these words, Rush had averted his eyes, this time just as instructed.

“Yet, my fervent outcries of injustice only fanned the flames of chaos. I never wanted anyone to get hurt…”

Rush had looked up at the camera with sincerity. Willforth was impressed with the journalist’s performance.

“I promised that if I was wrong… I would admit as much, and that I would apologize; Live, to you all; begging forgiveness from my knees.”

Willforth waited, his heart fluttering.

“Did you know that our King still eats actual food? Like, from slaughtered animals and gardens?”

Rush had delivered a rather blunt broadside; the room roared with panicked outcries of disbelief. Willforth emptied the contents of his mouth, spraying whiskey through the HoloScreen’s projection.

“In fact, here is a picture of the Third Course he didn’t finish this evening!”

And there it was; that spiteful quail carcass, left pecked at on a bed of rice, was staring back at him.

“How is this bastard still on the air?!! Willforth roared at the room in general, his eyes locked on his dinner.

“I don’t know father.” Evelyn rushed to the door to unlock it. But the key was not where she’d left it.

She frantically tried to pull it open, yelling for the servants to come.

“Our Royal Rulers and the Ruling Class, the One percent with all the power, eat like this every day! Not a single member of the Royal family have ever once consumed a Nutri-Tab, nor have they had to endure a full spectrum of food that all pretty much kills you. Nor the constant pang of hunger for that matter… Then one has to consider the reason we endure them at all… We, as a species, agreed to stop abusing other living creatures.”

New and unapproved pictures materialized on the HoloScreen. Richly appointed farmlands filtered through the projection matrix, blending into gardens sprawling around palaces and the most affluent areas; all sectioned off and inaccessible to the general public. In the back of the room, Gregory was howling with laughter.

Rush continued to rage at the camera, passionately exclaiming how he had been right all along.

“I confess; I never expected there to be so many ingredients!”

Pictures of substances that had been banned for centuries appeared next to the smiling faces he had thanked earlier, none of them were smiling any more.

Cinnamyl Anthranilate – (Liver Cancer!);

Coumarin – (Liver Toxicity!);

Ethyl Acrylate – (Cancer);

Rush ranted and raved as financial records started emerging. The room grew still and Willforth felt himself sink into his chair, hoping it would swallow him. They were the actual records, connected with convenient emails directly from the Medical board; they would supply these substances for use in Nutri Inc.’s products, ensuring the majority of the public had repeat medical prescriptions by the age of forty.

“You may be wondering how it is that I am still on the air?” He waved a hand and cameras pivoted, showing the studio; the entire crew and security team wore Three Blooms pinned to their lapels. Members within the tiny control office waved at the camera panning over them with obvious delight.

Finally, it turned back to Rush, and he too wore Three Blooms.

“That is because the movement is much bigger than you realize Willforth.”

The room gasped into silence, Rush hadn’t even used a royal moniker.

“If only you had considered feeding more people, this would have been harder for us.”

Rush was smiling gently, his eyes looking weary as he shrugged casually for the camera.

“Your very servants who prepare and serve you those meals haven’t even been allowed to finish your discarded plates! They aren’t coming back Evelyn.”

She had resumed her efforts in opening the door, but stopped, stepping back cautiously.

“Oh! The pictures you have of me?”

As he spoke, those same pictures materialized on the HoloScreen. They blurred into a video of the two, seated on the bed. As their lips parted, the woman removed a blonde wig to release a cascade of rich auburn hair. She got up and proceeded to remove her makeup directly before the lens of the camera. A couple of prosthetics were peeled from her face, diminishing previously highlighted features. Mrs Rush waved for the camera.

Willforth’s heart rate increased as Gregory’s laughter rang through his ears from the back of the room.

“Father?!” It was Evelyn, Willforth turned his head to see her at the window; a red glow had flushed her face. “Father, I think I see…” She stared off into the distance, her mouth slightly agape.

Willforth wanted to feel concern, but he just watched with doe-eyed apathy as Gregory joined her at the window, leaning against the frame. He had his back to his father as he laughed once more, abrading Willforth’s eardrums further. “Well Shit!” He managed at last. “Evelyn sees torches father, lots and lots of torches.”

Homeless Crisis: Middle-Class Americans on the Brink of Homelessness

Shorpy

On CAM: 200 Ukrainian and NATO Soldiers Along With 30 Units of Equipment Were Destroyed In YUNAKIVKA

Macaroon Brownie Tart

Yield: 12 servings

Ingredients

1 refrigerated pie crust (from 15 ounce package), softened as directed on package
1 (8 ounce) box fudge brownie mix
3 eggs, separated
1 tablespoon water
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate morsels
1 package (7 ounces) sweetened flaked coconut
1/2 cup Half-and-Half
1/4 cup sliced natural almonds

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Gently unfold crust onto lightly floured surface; roll to an 11 1/2 inch circle. Press into bottom and up sides of Tart Pan using Fluting Tool to create fluted edge. Prick bottom of crust; set aside.
Combine brownie mix, egg yolks and water; mix until smooth and spread over crust using Small Spreader. Sprinkle chocolate morsels over brownie mixture.
Combine egg whites, coconut and half and half; mix well. Spoon coconut mixture evenly over chocolate morsels. Sprinkle almonds around edge of coconut mixture.
Bake 40 to 45 minutes or until edge of crust is deep golden brown and center is set.
Remove from oven; cool 1 hour.
Serve slightly warm.
Slice using Nylon Slice ‘N Serve®.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 320, Total Fat 18g, Saturated Fat 10g, Cholesterol 60mg, Carbohydrate 36g, Protein 4g, Sodium 200mg, Fiber 2g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Life of Eskimo – Women Allowed to Sleep with Guests Freely – Travel Documentary

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Hog-Wild Hullabaloo

Ah, yes, dear reader! You’ve returned for yet another tale of my unmatched brilliance, haven’t you? I must admit, solving mysteries and restoring order to this farm is a full-time job, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Today’s story is one of squabbles, schemes, and a whirlwind of chaos that involved a stubborn pig, a sneaky raccoon, a meddlesome mouse, and, somehow, a donkey and a horse. It’s a tale of misunderstandings, mayhem, and, ultimately, reconciliation. Sit back and enjoy the uproarious account of The Hog-Wild Hullabaloo.

The Disagreement

It all began one sunny morning as I basked in the warmth of my favorite spot atop the barn roof. The farm was peaceful, the animals were content, and everything was perfectly in balance—until, of course, it wasn’t.

From the direction of the pigsty came the unmistakable sound of shouting. Well, it wasn’t quite shouting, but it was as close to shouting as a raccoon and a pig could manage.

“I found it first!” Rufus’s voice echoed across the farmyard.
“Found it? You were snooping in my mud pit!” Porkchop bellowed, his voice thick with outrage. “It’s MINE!”
“It was just lying there!” Rufus retorted. “Finders, keepers!”

Curious—and mildly annoyed—I leapt down from the roof and padded toward the commotion. A small crowd of animals had already gathered, including the ever-nosy hens, who were whispering furiously to one another.

“What’s going on?” I asked, weaving through the crowd until I reached the center.

Porkchop stood in his mud pit, splattered from snout to tail, glaring at Rufus, who was perched on the fence with something shiny in his paw.

“This thief,” Porkchop growled, pointing a muddy hoof at Rufus, “stole my prize turnip!”

“It’s not a turnip,” Rufus said, holding up the object in question. “It’s a gold coin! And you can’t ‘own’ a coin if it was buried in the mud. That’s treasure!”

The hens gasped dramatically. “A GOLD coin?!” Harold the rooster crowed. “What’s a gold coin doing on the farm?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” I muttered, my tail flicking thoughtfully.
Enter Sylvester

Before I could say another word, Sylvester the field mouse scurried onto the scene, looking as self-assured as ever. He climbed onto a nearby rock to address the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his high-pitched voice cutting through the chatter, “as an expert in shiny things, I’d be happy to examine the coin and determine its true ownership.”

“Who made you the judge?” Porkchop huffed.

“I did,” Sylvester said with a smug grin. “Because I’m the smartest one here.”

“I resent that,” I muttered, though no one seemed to hear me.

Rufus reluctantly handed the coin to Sylvester, who sniffed it, tapped it, and held it up to the sunlight. “Interesting,” he said, stroking his tiny whiskers. “This is indeed a gold coin, likely from an old stash buried here long ago. However, since it was found in the mud pit, I’d argue it technically belongs to Porkchop.”

“Yes!” Porkchop cheered, stomping his hooves triumphantly.

“BUT,” Sylvester added, holding up a paw, “Rufus technically ‘discovered’ it, which means he has a claim to it as well.”

“Ha!” Rufus said, sticking his tongue out at Porkchop.

The two began arguing again, and I rubbed my temples with a paw. “Enough!” I shouted, silencing them both. “It’s just a coin. Surely we can resolve this without—”

Before I could finish, Sylvester interrupted. “I have an idea! We’ll hold a contest to determine who deserves the coin. A test of skill, cunning, and… uh… mud-pit diving!”

“Wait, what?” I said, but it was too late. Sylvester had already scurried off to prepare the “contest,” leaving me to deal with the increasingly agitated crowd.
The Contest

By the time Sylvester returned, he had somehow roped Gerald the donkey and Buttercup the horse into his scheme. Gerald was carrying a bucket of apples, while Buttercup had a rope tied around her neck that Sylvester claimed would be used for “obstacle courses.” The hens, of course, had decided to act as referees, though their overly dramatic commentary was about as useful as a screen door on a submarine.

“All right!” Sylvester announced, climbing onto Gerald’s back. “The contest will consist of three challenges: apple bobbing, a rope pull, and—naturally—a mud-pit dive. The winner gets the gold coin and eternal bragging rights!”

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, but no one was listening.

The Chaos Ensues

The first challenge, apple bobbing, was a complete disaster. Rufus tried to cheat by using his paws instead of his mouth, which led to Porkchop accusing him of foul play. Meanwhile, Gerald accidentally spilled the bucket of apples, sending them rolling across the farmyard. The hens chased after them, clucking furiously, which only added to the confusion.

The second challenge, the rope pull, was even worse. Buttercup accidentally stepped on the rope, causing Rufus and Porkchop to collide in a tangle of limbs, mud, and feathers. Gerald, trying to help, ended up tripping over his own hooves and landing in the mud pit himself.

By the time we got to the third challenge, the mud-pit dive, the farm was in complete chaos. Rufus belly-flopped into the mud with a dramatic splash, while Porkchop executed what he called a “perfect cannonball.” The hens, now covered in mud themselves, declared it a tie, which only reignited the argument.

The Resolution

As the chaos reached its peak, I decided enough was enough. I leapt onto the fence and let out a loud, commanding yowl that silenced the entire farm.

“Stop this nonsense right now!” I said, glaring at Rufus, Porkchop, and Sylvester in turn. “This coin isn’t worth tearing the farm apart. If you can’t settle this like civilized animals, then no one gets it.”

The three troublemakers looked at each other, then at me, and finally at the crowd of mud-splattered, exhausted animals around them. Slowly, their expressions softened.

“You know,” Rufus said, scratching his head, “it’s just a coin. I don’t even know what I’d do with it.”

“Me neither,” Porkchop admitted. “I just didn’t want him to have it.”

Sylvester sighed and waved his tiny paw. “Let’s just put it back where we found it. Maybe it’s better left as a mystery.”

With that, the three of them worked together to rebury the coin in the mud pit, and the farm slowly returned to normal. Buttercup and Gerald cleaned up the mess, the hens resumed their endless gossiping, and I finally got a well-deserved nap.

The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, the things we fight over aren’t worth the trouble. What truly matters is working together, finding common ground, and, above all, knowing when to let go—because friendship is far more valuable than any gold coin.

The End.

Are people exaggerating about the American health care system or is it that bad if you don’t have insurance?

Yes, it’s bad.

A few years back, my dad’s business had a fire. While busy dealing with the aftermath, he was 3 days late on his & mom’s health insurance.

Guess what, my mom had to be rushed to the hospital with a liver infection during those 3 days. The operation and the subsequent 1-week hospital stay cost $105,000. My sister, who was in charge of the ICU at that hospital, helped negotiated an installment payment plan to help ease the financial pain.

While my parents didn’t claim medical bankruptcy, medical bankruptcies are actually common enough in the U.S. Sometimes, even with insurance, many procedures are not covered, or not fully. Yes, and we claim to be the wealthiest country in the world. There’s something wrong with the system.

Cute Kittens AI art

My attempts at kittens and poker.

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Recent Terror Attacks Have CIA Fingerprints All Over Them! w/ Whitney Webb

Don’t Blink or We’re All Gone

John-Paul Cote

BIG IDEAZ16 February 2032YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH. I CAN’T.It is the most secret, most secure facility in the world–it’s thousands of feet under New York City. And the research being done will make us all question our very place in the universe.=========================Sindy ChenStaff Reporter, Big IdeaZMy life will never be the same. The burden of the secret I know has made me question the meaning of existence itself.Out of millions of journalists, I am the one that Project Starlight asks to come for a visit.Project Starlight. I’ve never heard of it and likely you haven’t either. You will find no mention of it in any government documents or reports. You will find no mention of it on social media. You will never find it mentioned in the darkest reaches of the internet. No conspiracy theories. Nothing. This is truly incredible because Project Starlight is working on the most important finding of all time.I exaggerate not. There is no embellishment in what I am saying. We depend on the devotion of these scientists to maintain reality as we know it.The elevator ride takes thirty minutes to reach our destination. I wish they had warned me before we started because I need to use the bathroom by the time we reach the bottom. My escort is silent all the way down, refusing to acknowledge me, never mind answering questions. The doors open to reveal a huge concrete area. It looks like a factory floor with machinery and equipment buzzing around. And behind all the action is a set of three massive steel doors. They are easily thirty feet high. Behind them is the universe’s greatest secret, I have been told.We approach the guard post, controlling the doors. My escort and I hand over our security cards and asked to place our faces in an oval mold. I’m told not to move for my retina scan, and they sampled my DNA from my breath to confirm who I am. The guard nods that we cleared.With that, a voice comes over a loudspeaker telling everyone to stand back as the doors rotate open. They are at least twenty feet thick with cylinders that interlock them. There is no force in the world that could make those doors move unless they want to.I am met by an old friend. Dr. Brandon Hawkins and I met at Brown University. I was studying journalism while he was in Theoretical Physics. He smiles, says how long it’s been since we’ve seen each other, and gives me a big hug. I ask him why I’m here. It’s obvious not to catch up on old times.

“I’ve invited you here to blow your mind,” he says.

Brandon waves off the escort and guides me through the doors. I am at a loss to describe what I see. As Brandon tells me, the glass corridor we are walking through is taking us through the middle of “The Machine”, which he says in a solemn and yet mocking tone. There are tubes, wires, lights, and who knows what else I can see. There is one tube that catches my eye. It contains a pulsing light that rushes along it. Brandon tells me it generates the field that protects us from the reality of our situation.

The reality of our situation? What does that even mean?

US Recession Shock: USD Crashes, US Retirement Savings Meltdown, Importers Eat The Tariffs

We blew past a “Recession” and now we are on a speed-boat towards a full-on Depression.

“I have invited you here to blow your mind.”

“It will all be clear in a few minutes,” he says. Despite the complexity of what they do down here, the explanation, he tells me, is simple enough but takes time to believe.

After an hour’s tour of the facility, Dr. Brandon and I reach the control room.

This is where it gets real.

Brandon introduces me to the research and technical team. They all look at me in awe, as if I am an extraterrestrial or perhaps a movie star. Out of the crowd, one woman approaches. Dr. Avery Moore.

“This is an incredible event, meeting you finally,” she says.

More and more, I feel this is not just a visit for me as more of the team members come forward and introduce themselves like they are meeting a rock star. I’m not sure how to take this.

This is when Brandon asks if I want a seat. They have something to tell me. I take the offered seat because it feels like I am about to be told God exists and here he is.

I wish that was what they tell me.

“Over thirty years ago, a group of researchers working at a lab in Los Alamos, New Mexico discovered a disturbing pattern,” Brandon started. “The world seemed to blink out of existence, then come back. No one was aware of this non-existence. And it happened regularly. The way they discovered it was with microscopic variables in their quantum measurements. Variables at the smallest levels they could observe at the time and, since then, observed even further down into the quantum realm.”

The crowd of scientists and technicians continues to stare at me in awe. I shift in the chair uncomfortably as the attention is beyond unnerving.

“What we have found since then is that the existence we believe in is a lie. Reality is a relative thing. It depends on one factor and one factor alone.”

Brandon stared into my eyes, telling me he was being honest and open about what was being said.

“That one factor is you.”

I don’t know how to respond. It sounds like the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“This planet, this galaxy, this universe, and everything in it did not exist until you were born.”

“This planet, this galaxy, this universe and everything in it did not exist until you were born.”

I check to see if I’m asleep or dreaming. I then check for exits. If everyone believes this, then they are the craziest group of people I have ever met. I have interviewed god-like dictators, world-ending cultists, and flat earthers. This beats them all.

“I know. It sounds insane. Beyond insane, but it is true. Before you, there was nothing. Before your first conscious moment, there was no existence. Now all of reality only exists when you are conscious. Every time you go to sleep, whether it’s grabbing a quick nap or a good night’s sleep, everything disappears. There is only you and a void until you wake up again and everything returns.”

Insanity, pure insanity.

“It’s all true. Our past, our present, every star, every planet, every particle exists because you do. Our work here is simple. We want to ensure that reality will continue to exist once you,” he pauses, looking for the right words, “pass on. Right now, once you are dead, we and everything for billions of light years in space and time will disappear forever.”

I blink. People seem to jump for a moment as if they believe what Brandon is telling me.

“Don’t worry, that pulsing light you saw when you came in, that’s a field that we have created that separates us from you. In here, we do not disappear when you lose consciousness for whatever reason. Our goal is to extend this field either indefinitely or collapse it around you. Until then, you could go out tonight, choke on a peanut, and it’s all over for everything from the quantum level on up to the universe.”

It’s then I notice the two large digital clocks running in the room. One is counting up and the other counting down.

“The one counting up is your current age. The one counting down is the estimated amount of time you have left in your life. That’s our deadline and we are so close to reaching our goal.”

How did this all happen? How can it be true? What about my mom? Didn’t she give birth to me? She must have existed before me.

“What we have unravelled so far is that you merely can into being. You were never born. That is, what we call, Permanent Transient Construct. At the moment of creation, your subconscious created a mother that gave you birth, a father that had sex with your mother, vocations or careers that they had, an extended family, people, nations, the world, the universe, and history to fill it all in. As you have grown older, your subconscious has created more of this PTC. The problem is that your conscious mind is maintaining this construct. Thus, when you go to sleep, it all stops because your conscious mind stops. We and everything else disappear and it creates a void. Not even nothing, an actual void where even nothing is not real. You wake up in the middle of the night and suddenly we are back. You fall back to sleep, and we are gone again. We do not notice this because your subconscious fills in the parts we need.”

If they have kept me in the dark this long, then why tell me about this now?

“Because the risk levels of your activities have increased significantly over the last year. The countdown clock has decreased. The meter we have measuring risk factors and the chances of you dying early has gone into the red. You have entered a kind of midlife crisis where you are questioning yourself and then challenging yourself to make you feel alive. We had little choice but to bring you here and tell you the truth.”

It was hours and maybe days that Brandon and his team show me the evidence. I refused to believe it until I finally did.

Everything exists because I do. Unlike what many people think, I am the centre of the universe. The centre of reality. Time, space, and the consciousness of trillions upon trillions of beings are all because of me. Every atom, every particle, all of it. It’s me.

This is a lot of pressure to put on someone who is only thirty-eight years old. It is taking time to adjust to my responsibility, but I am.

I don’t know how long I will be down here in Project Starlight. I have now agreed to stay safely confined so that you and everything else may be. Brandon and his team tell me they could be mere months away from finding the solution. Until then, I will stay here until the world is truly safe from me.

Women’s Boobs EXPLODE After COVID Vaccine, Many Women Report Vaccine Causes BOOB GROWTH

Ugh. Not fake news…

What is China’s current fighter jet production capacity across all facilities?

China has several dedicated aviation manufacturing plants, the most important of which are the Chengdu Aircraft Industry Group and the Shenyang Aircraft Industry Group. These facilities are not only responsible for the production of fighter jets, but also involve related research and development and testing work.

As of mid-2024, China’s J-20 fighter production has exceeded 300 aircraft, indicating that China has already achieved considerable scale and capability in the production of fifth-generation fighter aircraft.

China’s fighter research and development has undergone a transformation from imitation to independent design, especially in the integration of stealth technology and avionics equipment. The J-20 is considered a fifth-generation fighter jet that meets international standards and has strong stealth capabilities and combat performance.

China is actively developing the next generation of fighter jets, which are expected to have more advanced technology and stronger combat capabilities. The development of these new fighter jets will further enhance China’s air combat capabilities and military projection capabilities.

China’s fighter production capabilities have shifted from the imitation stage of the past to independent research and development and production, and have strong technical strength and production scale.

Aromatic Chicken Curry (Vietnam)

Ingredients

2 medium-size potatoes, cut into chunks
4 tablespoons peanut oil
8 shallots, minced
4 stalks fresh lemon grass, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 fresh hot red chiles, minced
2 tablespoons best-quality curry powder
1 pound skinless, boneless chicken breasts, chopped into bite size pieces
1 teaspoon sea salt or 1 teaspoon fish sauce
1 (14 ounce) can coconut milk
1 (14 ounce) can chicken broth
Fresh basil leaves

Instructions

Fry the potato chunks in the oil until nicely browned, then drain them on paper towels.
Add the shallots, lemon grass, and all of the spices to the pan, and stir-fry for a few minutes.
Add the chicken and cook, stirring, until it is opaque.
Add the potatoes, salt, coconut milk and chicken stock. Bring to a boil and then simmer gently for about 30 minutes.
Garnish with basil leaves before serving in bowls with rice.

Wife About To Be Outed After Husband Learns She Didn’t Pay For Nursing School By Traditional Means!

Its cold in them those Winter Steel Mills

I used to work in a steel mill, I wrote about this earlier. But what I didn’t write about is what it was like.

Today, I want to talk about, a little perhaps, about what it was like in the Winter while being in a steel factory.

Guys… imagine this; it’s cold out and everything is frozen.

And you have to go out to the mill and count the “steel rings” loaded on the pallets.

And so you dutifully put on your steel-toed boots.

Don your hard hat, and put on your coat and go out into the plant.

And you go into the warehouse.

Snow is drifting in through the wide open garage doors.

Pallets upon pallets of steel.

And you know what… they are thermal sinks. They retain the temperature.

If it is hot, it is hotter inside the factory.

And if it is cold, it is FROZEN inside the factory.

Frozen.

Not only cold, but my poor feet were surrounded by the steel protective gauntlet inside the boot. My toes were always frozen. OMG!

It was always PAINFUL.

This is just a simple sample of what it is like working for a living as a man in a factory.

It’s not about the dirt, the grease, the constant berating, and the life-threatening working environments.

It’s also about the discomfort.

Going into that mill was like spending hours in Siberia. I kid you not.

Now, guys, sure I spent much of my time in the offices, but you just gotta go out and deal with the product directly. And that is often a harsh environment. Whether it is steel in a freezing cold warehouse, a hot automobile engine broken down at the side of the road, a maze of pipes in a massive cracking facility in the desert, or a water side testing contraption.

You have to go there and deal.

Not all of us can sit at desks in an office, drink coffee, and talk crap.

Some of us gotta deal with it.

My rant for today. Have a good one, you all…

Why don’t we fight China now? Won’t China become stronger the longer we wait?

Is this question asked by Americans?

Let me answer this as a Chinese.

If you want to fight, then fight, don’t talk nonsense,

If you don’t want to fight, don’t keep talking slanderously and blaming China for whatever you want.

I don’t know if this kind of shrewish behavior of swearing in the streets and speaking ill of people behind their backs is the attitude that a world-class hegemonic country should display.

If you don’t believe it, you can take a look at the remarks and attitudes of the official media of China and the United States.

For a long time, China’s official media never reported any negative news from foreign countries. Now, although it has begun to report, it is all based on objective facts.

Isn’t the sole task of the news media to report correct and credible news?

In my opinion, the American media habitually spreads rumors and fabricates fake news.

I want to say that you can correctly report all negative news in China. For these news, you can find relevant reports from Chinese domestic news media with just a few clicks of your fingers.

You don’t have to report any positive news about China. But please don’t spread rumors, slander, or make a fuss.

This will make you look very low and not the posture that a world’s most powerful country should display.

As a world overlord, you should look at the world with an emperor’s mentality, not like a robber or thief.

Always looking down on the good things of others.

An emperor should have a heart that tolerates all things, takes everything calmly and unhurriedly, and has the freedom and majesty to stand high on the throne and overlook the ups and downs of all living beings.

Rather than chattering endlessly, or collaborating with Nazi garbage countries like “Israel”.

The United States has disappointed me, a Chinese, so much.

I hope you can have a true emperor’s mentality instead of like a worthless robber.

Honey Mustard Glazed Turkey Breast

Yield: 6 servings

Ingredients

1 bone-in turkey breast half (2 1/2 to 3 pounds)
1 (14 1/2 ounce) can chicken broth
1/3 cup honey
1/4 cup Dijon mustard
1/4 cup cold water
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly spray Square Baker pan with vegetable oil.
Place turkey breast, skin side up, into baker pan.
In small batter bowl, combine chicken broth, honey, Dijon mustard, water, garlic, cornstarch, paprika and black pepper; whisk until smooth using whisk. pour mixture over turkey breast.
Bake uncovered, 1 1/2 to 2 hours, basting every 20 minutes.
Remove turkey from oven when Thermometer inserted into thickest part of breast registers 170 degrees F.
Remove turkey breast from pan; place on cutting board and let stand 10 minutes before carving.
Pour honey mustard sauce from pan into gravy boat; thin sauce with hot water to desired consistency, if necessary.
Carve turkey into thin slices; serve with sauce.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 370, Fat 13g, Sodium 650mg, Dietary Fiber 0g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

John Wick does tactical shopping

What’s the life of a semi driver like? How long are they driving before they get tired? What items would I find in a semi truck?

In my 32 years as a professional driver, I have come to accept a few realities of my chosen profession,

I have a house I don’t live in
I have a car I don’t drive
I have a wife I don’t see
I have pets I don’t play with
In my 38 year relationship with my wife, I have been away from her more than with, yet our marriage has endured
I eat out of paper bags and Styrofoam boxes
I am often treated with disdain by other members of the motoring public who are ignorant of the dynamics of controlling a 70 foot long, 40 ton vehicle safely
I have been stranded on the side of the road, broken down for hours waiting for help, more times than I can remember
I have driven in freezing cold, blistering heat, wind driven rain, pea soup fog, blinding blizzards, a forest fire, two hurricanes and have done so safely
I am expected to be on time for my delivery appointments yet made to wait around for hours needlessly and inexplicably to get unloaded
My job is under the influence of man, nature, and machine. The only thing certain about this job is, there are no certainties
My peers consist of people from all walks of life, genders (I have on two separate occasions had the pleasure of spending time with a transgender and transvestite truck driver) religions, and skin colors, most of whom are chronic complainers with very poor fashion sense (multiple layers of flannel shirts??!!). Underneath it all we’re all the same, skilled professionals and we look out for our own.

And yet, at the end of the day, this is my chosen profession of which I am fiercely proud. I have no intention of retiring and intend to do this as long as I’m physically able because, what could be better than this?

Home, sweet home,

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What are the implications of a laptop saying “manufactured in China”?

All laptops are (one way or the other) made in China.

Most specifically, in the mega-city of Shenzhen and the Pearl River delta. Home of 138 million people. Compare that to the pathetic New York City with a mere 6 million people.

But I digress.

Those companies that “manufacture computers” in other nations, such as the United States are not really factories. They are assembly houses. They source parts and components from China, and then they assemble and test them in their home country. It’s a very common practice.

Now many people get confused by this.

They argue that they get their RAM from Korea, and their microprocessor from Taiwan, and their hard drive from a United States company. Which actually makes me chuckle.

All of which has components MADE INSIDE OF CHINA.

Actually, it’s one of the ways that I (personally) make money. I work with the owners, buyers and COOs of these foreign companies and arrange the manufacture to spec, and quality testing of the components that they will assemble into their products.

It’s pretty deceptive to someone to believe that they are having an American-made products, with American components when 90% of it is sourced one way or the other out of China. TRUTH.

The Best of: Jimmy O. Yang

I know what you’re thinking.

John Steckley

I Know What You’re Thinking“George, while you were in the bathroom, we received a call from the university for you.”“I hope that they don’t want to take my degree away after having a second look at the papers I wrote way back when.”“Very funny George.

This is serious.

Apparently there is a group of scientists at the university who have made what they called a great discovery. So far no outsiders know about this discovery, and they want you to interview them and observe the effectiveness of what they have invented.”“Wow.

Well I did take a first year foundational course in science when I was there, and I got a good mark, the highest mark that year for me.”“No George, they were apparently quite impressed with the article you wrote about the strengths and weaknesses of electric cars and self-propelling lawnmowers.”“When do they want me?”“As soon as you can get there.

They are quite eager to let the world know what they have discovered.”George grabbed his camera and his recording device, and sprinted out of the office, into his car, and sped down to the university.

Although it had been years since he was last on the campus, he found his way to the science building easily enough.

He was greeted on the main floor by a university security officer, and told to take the elevator to the top floor.

George was surprised by what he saw when he arrived at his destination and the elevator door opened. There were two police officers standing there, one of whom asked him whether his name was George Stanley, and did he have ID on him to prove that he was who he said he was.

He replied in the positive, took out his wallet and showed the officer his driver’s license. He was then escorted by the two officers into the room that apparently housed the experiment. Everyone in the room except for the officers, and, of course, himself, wore long white lab coats.

The one who seemed to be the leader approached him and said, “Before we explain what it is that we have discovered, we are going to demonstrate it to you, with you as the research subject.”George began to feel a little nervous at this point. The leader then reassured him that this experiment would be painless.

“I am just going to expose you to some electro-magnetic waves, that will pair up with the waves created by your brain.

What we are going to show you is our lie detector. I am pretty sure that you are about to tell me that such a device has already been developed, but it really has not.

What was previously invented is what we call a psychophysiological detector of deceptions, and it is not infallible.

It is more an intimidator that it is a detector – no intimidation, no detection.For our invention to work we have to influence a person’s brainwaves with the waves from our machine.

Now stand still. What I want you to do after I send the waves your way is to have you say what colour comes into your mind. If it is the same one that we have programmed our wave machine to send your way, then the two of you are connected. And we will be able to catch you in a lie.

Then the scientist pointed the device at him again, and there was a different tone of buzzing, followed by the word ‘brown’ resounding in his head several times.“Okay, George, what was the colour?

”After a few seconds, in which George seriously contemplated giving a wrong answer, he said “brown.”“Right! Now George, we are going to ask you a question, to which you can lie or tell the truth. We will tell you which one it is. George, are you married?”

George said that he was, and the lead scientist correctly replied with “That’s a lie”. George just nodded his head in response.

“We are now going to explain to you how it works. Let us know if you don’t understand. It is highly technical of course.”

George then asked a question, “Are you not going to de-program me first?”

The reply hit him like a hammer blow.

“Oh, we cannot do that. We tried, but could not find a way to do that, so we ended that part of the research. We feel that it would be relatively harmless to keep people programmed, as we will have absolute control of the devices. There will be no misuse.”

George recorded the explanations of different aspects of the technology, so his complete attention was on what he was learning. He had the distinct impression that when he did not quite get what they were saying, they would repeat what they had said slowly and with more explanation.

When he was about to leave, the lead scientist asks him a peculiar question. “When are you going to be writing this piece?” He replied by telling the man that he always wrote his articles as soon as he arrived at work at nine o’clock in the morning, as he was a ‘morning person’.

He gave his standard joke about that saying, “I never wrote anything intelligent in the afternoon.”

He knew from his regular reading of scientific journals that electro-magnetic waves were used to travel far into space. Travelling on earth should not then pose a significant challenge to their use.

When he got back to the newspaper office, he went straight away to talk to the editor to explain the problem he would have with writing an unbiased article on the research. The editor, whom George respected for his intelligence, particularly as it was demonstrated in his ability to write meaningful articles, presented him with a strategy that could resolve his problem.

He followed it to the letter. The next morning, at precisely nine o’clock, he first wrote an article that was solidly supportive of the research, and the researchers. Minutes after he was finished the draft copy of this piece, he received a phone call from the lead researcher, who stated that he was sure that whatever he wrote would be fine with them. He should not worry about “getting it right”.

The committee asked George whether he wanted to be a research subject, as he was one of the very few who had been programmed, the others being university students who had badly needed the money.

While he was apprehensive of the scientists ‘messing with my mind’, particularly after the critical article that he wrote, he agreed to participate as he wanted his brain purged of the effect of the waves.

When he made his return to their research room, his first words were “I know what you’re thinking.” There was an initial silence.

Then they laughed.

Joe Wong: Building A Wall Didn’t Work For China

Why do white people deny that white privilege exists?

Let me tell you how the other night, a “person of color” pointed a gun at my entire family – my husband, myself, our 3 kids 8,9,11 and my brand new 4 month old baby. That white privilege didn’t kick in though. Despite having a literal video, a license plate, witnesses – the cops have done nothing. The detective told us they see things like this all of the time with these thugs and he’d “get to it when he gets to it. But the DA might not even prosecute”.

I was shocked, considering our white friend brandished his firearm in self defense a while back, despite legally having the right to – he was ripped out of his house and had his firearm taken from him “while they investigated”

I, like the idiot I must be, assumed they would certainly go grab this animal that threatened to kill my family, immediately. Considering he was not provoked nor threatened in any way. I now have seen firsthand the privilege cops and district attorneys are giving persons of color. All to avoid having to deal with the criminals that support BLM and risk the bad press and losing a vote in my liberal shit hole state.

Comix for fun

If World War 3 happens, will America, China, or Russia be the last country to survive?

The country that survives should be China.

The nuclear weapons of the United States and Russia are superior in quantity, and most of them are nuclear warheads produced during the Cold War 40 to 50 years ago. China’s nuclear weapons are superior in quality, and many of them are new nuclear warheads produced in the past decade.

Russia’s nuclear missiles are mainly deployed in fixed launch silos, which are not very mobile and it is difficult to ensure the second nuclear strike capability. After the disintegration of the Soviet Union, Russia’s finances were not abundant, and the nuclear weapon launch system was not updated much.

The United States’ nuclear missiles are mainly deployed on nuclear submarines; the United States’ nuclear missiles are mainly deployed on missile launch vehicles. Mobility means having a second nuclear strike capability.

Broadly speaking, there is no winner in nuclear war!

Who can build more underground projects to protect more people?
Who can regain control of the territory first?
Who can rebuild civilization in the territory of nuclear radiation?

Then, who is the winner of the third world war.

The one who can’t do it is the loser.

Considering China’s huge population size and their infrastructure capabilities, as well as its preparations for nuclear bombing since the 1960s, it goes without saying who is the winner. (China has been under nuclear threat since the 1960s and has always been prepared. China should be the country with the most underground fortifications in the world.)

Even after the nuclear bomb fell, the war never ended.

The birth of human civilization is accompanied by war, and the restarted human civilization will also be shrouded in the haze of war.

Wife Wants My Forgiveness After Revealing She Had “Relations” With 50+ Guys Without Protection…

Conceal carriers, where do you put your gun when you use the restroom?

Welcome to our nightmare! The concern of having to take a shit, and forgetting one’s firearm in, say, a restaurant’s restroom is scary. I’ll explain the situation and provide a perfect solution.

Obviously, if you are a dude, and you’re taking a piss, it’s not a problem. It’s on your belt and it’s not going to be interfered with. If it’s on a duty belt and you go take a shit, it’s obviously on the belt and that’s a lot of crap, very visible and you generally hang that off the top of the stall or the bathroom door handle if it’s a single unit and odds are you have to contend with the vest as well, so that’s another reminder. (I don’t take shits wearing my vest.) The problem comes in when one has an IWB, inside the waist band type holster, which is a compact unit, which is removable from the belt, and when dropping one’s pants, it’s necessary to remove the firearm in holster from the belt. Many people simply put int on the toilet tank or counter near the sink (Most common but damn BAD PRACTICE), if there is one and sadly, some have left them there. The most publicly reported, INTERNATIONAL one was someone on some royal protection detail, left a firearm in a public bathroom, in the UK. The horror! It’s a gun! So not only are there potential legal, safety, and liability issues, it can be a career killer.

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While reading the comments about the aforementioned incident, one old cop had the simplest solution that should work well and it provides an example of WHY sometimes the best information is in the comments from readers on any subject. You put the gun, still in holster, in your underwear, which is at your ankle level. There’s absolutely no way that you’re going to miss it if you forget you have a pistol on you and thoughtlessly begin pulling up your briefs and trousers. It’s right there! It’s heavy, it’s noticeable and it’s where you have to do something and touch something to move on to the next step, as opposed to resting it on the counter near the sink, the floor, or the top of the toilet tank where you can get distracted or experience the “I gotta leave impulse we often have after taking a dump. So put it, in your IWB holster, in your briefs when you shit. This is a great solution for males and females. The simplicity matches the likely certainty of it, make it a habit and it should work out well.

A Snapchat Catfisher Is Trying To Con A Bro Out Of His Money, Let’s Help Him With A Dose Of Reality!

I’ve been catfished. Sad to say.

It happens to the best of us. Let this story be a lesson.

Take the *slaps*.

Learn.

Coconut Octopus

Khadija S. Mohammad

“Octopuses?” Thomas spluttered.The girl smiled. “Popular misconception. Logically, the plural is octopodes. Although publicly it’s still octopuses.” He rubbed the back of his head. Try to unearth the biggest scientific secret of the century, and all you end up with is a headache and a lesson in octopus plurals.“Come with me, our secret is in here.” She was laughing at him?He followed her through a wide door and into a glaring white chamber. As his eyes grew accustomed to the light he noticed boxes of blue and other bright colours dotting the room. Octopus tanks.The girl strode towards the farthest wall, avoiding the tanks and other obstacles with ease. Thomas was not so lucky; His natural clumsiness asserted itself, and by the time he stood next to her, three items were displaced, and one was broken. He was vaguely aware of a white figure glaring at his back as it cleaned up the mess.In front of them, a blank wall. The girl leaned into the wall and placed her eye in front of a hidden sensor. Slowly, the protective covering went up and what faced them was another octopus tank. “This is Hàixiū,” she said, putting her hand against the glass. Thomas spotted a small jellyfish-like shape in one corner. He pointed at it.“Yes, that’s her. Hàixiū is Chinese for ‘shy’.”A small squeak came from the corner of the room. Thomas turned and saw a silver-rimmed octopus tank with a young man standing in front of it, looking like something from a black-and-white movie. His skin was pale, almost white, and his clothes were black and grey. He squeaked at the octopus in front of him, and leant close to the tank, whispering like the breeze on a cold day. Thomas pointed at him and looked inquisitively at the girl.”Hàorán. He’s a little mad,” she explained, lowering her voice. “Ever since he came here he’s been whispering to Kuàisù, his octopus. He seems to think that Kuàisù can learn to talk.” Thomas glanced back at Hàorán and wondered…A man of about twenty walked in. “There you are Mimi. It’s time for Hàixiū’s injection.”

“Just a moment, Hui. Our journalist needs something to write about. Is it okay if he stays?” Hui nodded.

They put on gloves and found equipment while Thomas watched, occasionally glancing back at the tank. Hàixiū didn’t move.

“Turn on the Mush,” said Mimi. Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Just watch, it will explain itself.” Hui pressed a button on another wall and Thomas waited for something to happen.

Mimi pulled her gloves above her elbows and stretched her arms towards the tank. Thomas stared. Mush. Her hands just sank through it, the glass melting and moulding around them. The octopus flew – right to the other end of the tank.

“Come back here, you little monster,” Mimi said playfully. Hàixiū refused to come nearer, waiting until Mimi was just close enough to touch an arm with her fingertips before jetting away, pointing her suckers at them. And that’s what you are, she seemed to say. Not so much shy as cheeky, Thomas thought.

Hui talked while Mimi chased the elusive Hàixiū around the tank. “We take them out every day and inject them with Systimosin. It’s a kind of stimulant.”

“Got you!” said Mimi, grabbing hold of an arm and struggling to hold her still. “Hurry up Hui, she’s really strong.”

“Coming, coming.” He passed her a syringe filled with a thick, colourless liquid. “It was developed for the first time in this lab a few weeks ago. It supplies new connections in the octopodes’ brain, making it smarter. We’re also expecting it to give them a longer life span.”

Mimi injected the liquid into Hàixiū’s arm, then let go of her. “She’s developing faster than the others. They’re all developing faster than I expected.” Hui laughed.

“If you have any questions, ask Mimi. She’s the biggest octopus expert around here. I’m just the assistant.” Something is his voice – in the words he spoke? The way he spoke? – hit Thomas like a wave. He’d always been sensitive to emotions. If you don’t talk, you get to listen longer. And words aren’t the only thing you can listen to.

He put up a hand, a Wait, please sign; He wanted to write. He hoped his face would say what his hands couldn’t. He’d never been the best at polite talk. Or impolite talk.

Somehow they understood. Hui left. Mimi waited, then began walking him round a tour again, stopping at each new tank to add a special comment about the octopus inside.

“Each octopus is different,” she explained, “They each have their own personalities. This is Yonggan,” as they neared another tank where an octopus was attached to the glass. “We joke that he’s Hàixiū’s soulmate, the two are exact opposites. Yonggan is very playful; He loves new people. We expected him to develop the fastest, but Nature never makes things easy.” Thomas nodded and bent over his notebook as they walked on. “They’re each named after their most prominent traits, it makes them easier to place and helps when we forget which name is attached to which octopus.” He nodded again.

They walked on, carefully avoiding Hàorán’s corner, where he continued whispering to Kuàisù, ignoring them completely, or just not seeing them.

“Remember, this is top-secret work. No leaks,” Mimi said. Thomas rolled his eyes. I’m a journalist. Whatever I see, the public sees. Suddenly he bent over his notebook, writing something and ripping it out to show her.

“What if one of the scientists leak?” She read. “That’s simple; They wouldn’t. I would trust any one of my crew with my life. We all trust each other.” Thomas wasn’t satisfied, but he kept quiet as they moved to the next tank.

“And this is Xiaochou, the clown. You wouldn’t think that he was nocturnal, would you?” Xiaochou was currently doing octopus backflips, front flips, and side flips.

“We always use Amphioctopus marginatus, the Coconut or Veined octopus, for our experiments. We tried using other types, but Systimosin doesn’t create intelligence, it just increases what’s already there, so they either showed no signs of developing or died when we tried increasing the dose.”

Thomas was confused. Surely she was fond of the creatures after working with them for weeks, but he couldn’t detect any emotions from her when she talked of their deaths.

“The government decided that it was too damaging to risk too many tests, so they only granted permission for 10 octopodes, 5 tests each. It’s at the edge of our limit; If an octopus died now…” She shivered. “Well, hopefully all goes to – ”

“Hàixiū is out!” The steady thud of feet on the spotless white floor, squeaks, squeals and more shouting. Only Hàorán stayed where he was, a surprised but smug grin on his face. Why, Thomas wondered. Somehow, the alleged madman fascinated him.

He followed Mimi back to Hàixiū’s tank, notebook forgotten, where a group of teuthologists stood in a loose circle, talking. He caught a few words. “- before we expected.”

“She’s certainly developing fast,” Mimi commented, “She wasn’t scheduled to escape for a few weeks.” Nobody seemed panicked. In fact, nobody was even looking for Hàixiū. It was as if they all knew that she would be back soon, like she was a colleague who had just gone out for a coffee and would return in a few minutes. Thomas stood awkwardly behind the group, staring absent-mindedly into Hàixiū’s empty tank.

“Hui?” Mimi called. Hui walked in and looked at her expectantly. “She should be near the vent in the test room, could you bring her in please?” Hui nodded and left.

He returned a minute later with a frozen look of panic on his face. “She’s not there.”

No one knew what to do. The chances of her not doing what they expected were a thousand to one. They froze.

Suddenly everyone was moving, and Thomas watched with an amused smile. This is what happens when you become too logical, he thought. Resuming his watch on the tank, he let his mind roam, headlines and front-page news drifting in and out of his consciousness.

“Where could she be?” “What’s happened to her?” “What if she’s got out?” “Why didn’t we calculate correctly?” People zipping back and forth, searching the rooms, searching the vents, making more calculations and searching again.

Half an hour later, the panic was broken, the problem still unsolved. In place of blind frenzy came desperation for some, depression for others. Some were sitting cross-legged on the floor, crying, knowing that Hàixiū was already dead, some continued stubbornly searching. Thomas was still glued to the glass, trying to appear oblivious to his surroundings, overwhelmed with the emotions that flooded the lab. A single octopus meant so much to them. In the passageway, a man was on his knees, praying.

As Thomas stared through the tank, something caught his eye. “Mimi,” he shouted, realising he didn’t know her last name. His voice was scratchy and thick with disuse. She lifted her head from her hands and looked around, unsure of who was calling her. “She’s here.”

Everyone crowded around him, following his finger to the small jellyfish-like shape in the corner. Mimi squealed with relief. Hui and another man slapped each other on the back. Tears were forgotten, driven away by almost hysterical laughter.

Thomas was confused, alone in his thoughts. Hàixiū had always been there; She hadn’t moved from when he first entered the room. And throughout the commotion that had followed her ‘disappearance’, no one had admitted coming near the tank. ‘Hàixiū is out’…

Safe in his corner, Hàorán laughed. Kuàisù had proved his worth.

Ronny Chieng Explains Why Chinese People Love Money

How is China’s domination in lab-grown diamonds shaking up and destabilizing the traditional global diamond market?

You want to buy a Diamond ring

A 4 Carat cut and polished ring at Chow Sang Sang in Beijing retails at a whopping 320,000 Yuan

Same 4 Carat Synthetic Diamond ring can be purchased for 42,000 Yuan

No Amateur can tell the difference

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Not even a Loupe can tell the difference these days

You need a Gemological Certificate & LIBS or Spectroscopy reports

Nirav Modi, the legend 😁😁😁😁😁

He claimed to spend $ 400 Million (₹ 2700 Crore) in buying Natural Diamonds but spent $ 46 Million in buying Synthetic Diamonds from China vide HK and likely (ALLEGEDLY) siphoned off $ 354 Million

The ED who confiscated his diamonds thought the value was ₹ 3,130 Crore found their value to be less than ₹350 Crore

So a Gemological certificate isn’t exactly iron clad evidence

Only the RETAILER is

Tiffanys, Cartiers etc who have a reputation sell absolutely doubt free Natural diamonds

China makes 77% of the World’s synthetic diamonds

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India is a huge market and we import 24% of Synthetic Diamonds and also make 9% of Synthetic Diamonds

Why is the Global Market shaken up?

36% Diamond Buyers were those who scrimped and saved for years or took heavy credit card debts to buy Diamond Jewelry with Natural Diamonds

Today those buyers can easily pay 20% of the price and buy Synthetic Diamonds with 18K Gold Jewelry which can deceive 99% of the world as being authentic

So those customers will NEVER buy natural diamonds again

So value of diamonds is driven down drastically

Disadvantages of Synthetic Diamonds:-

They can’t be RESOLD or HOCKED easily

Pawnbrokers pay you 60% value of Natural Diamonds and you can resell them for 100% Value or even greater value in the same retail outlet at a later delate

They are easily convertible to cash

Meanwhile Synthetic Diamonds fetch less than 30% value at a Pawnbroker and reselling them means at least 50% discount

What is the best 5th generation fighter in the world, and why?

What is the best 5th generation fighter in the world? What are the criteria? These are the questions I have asked for sometime now.

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I will tackle this question.

I will evaluate it based on current fighters abilities not the SU-57M or Block 4 F-35. I also do not care about numbers in total built. I agree that in a real war that matters. However for this question it does not. This question is simple to me, if I could only have 1 of these fighters to protect my country which one would it be.

Lets start with the biggest question does the fighter have to have all the parameters that Lockheed Martin laid out when they developed the 5th generation brand? I would say no you do not, as those goal posts were moved by Lockheed themselves in order to get the F-35 to fit the as a 5th generation fighter title. Super maneuverability and Supercruise was removed with the reasoning being since there are no more dogfights( which will turn out to be incorrect) and speed is not important anymore. Consequently I will not be holding the fact that the SU-57 does not have serrated nozzles yet or the J-20 lacking supercruise ability. There will be one caveat to this discussion there is quite limited information J-20 just as the Chinese prefer it but this will make a comparison to other fighters more challenging but I will do my best.

Lets start by defining what I believe makes the best 5th gen aircraft. It would be the best all around aircraft that if you could only have one of these 5th generation fighters in your inventory, which one is best able to carry out A2A, A2G, standoff attacks and air superiority would it be. that the basis of the this discussion lets begin.

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BVR

The West has convinced the world that air battles will now be fought only from beyond visual range(BVR). In this scenario sensors are king, and how far your radar can pick up a target and create a firing solution is what matters. In this regard I will talk about the individual abilities of the fighters not a grouping of fighters working in unison. In the case of BVR other than the sensors the missiles are the most important weapon in the arsenal of these fighters. We should now look at how each fighter stacks up in these categories

F-35

The F-35 uses the APG-81 with 1000-1600 T/R modules and a range of 200km and 110km on 1sqm target the EOTS is a combination of IRST and FLIR that has shown range out to 90kms not sure what range it can create a firing solution from officially but it is believed to be around 50kms from what is in open sources.

The missiles for air-to-air are the AIM-120D which incorporates active seeker with a max range of 160km and a predicted NEZ of 70km in stealth configuration and when stealth is not required the AIM-9X for short range attacks. Both missiles can be shot off boresight even at targets in the rear hemisphere. Max air-to-air load out in stealth configuration is 4 AIM-120D. Both missile can receive datalink correction from F-35

F-22

The F-22 uses the APG-77 with 1500 -2200 T/R modules with a range of 400km on a 1sqm target it does not have any kind of optical tracking abilities as it was designed as a pure air superiority fighter and the US had rejected IRST as general rule in fighter aircraft at this time. It also has the AN/ALR 94 with passive sensors with a claimed range of 463kms to detect radar signals.

The missiles are very similar to the F-35, with AIM-120D as primary medium distance and the AIM-9X. The F-22 does not have the ability to shoot off boresight missiles but can carry 6 AIM-120D and 2 AIM-9X in stealth configuration.

J-20

The J-20 uses the Type 1475 with approximately 2000T/R modules which are rumored to Gallium nitride which would make for a very powerful radar. Before people say that cannot be possible, China makes 98% of the world production of Gallium. The only numbers to be found is a range of 200km. They also claim the J-20 has an IRST but again there is no real open source information specifications.

The missiles used by the J-20 are the PL-15 with an AESA radar seeker and 200km range and dual pulse motor. For short range it uses the PL-10 with an imaging infrared (IIR) seeker, thrust-vectoring exhaust nozzle, laser proximity fuse, and reportedly boasts a 90-degree off-boresight capability.

SU-57

The SU-57 is a bit different than all the others, it has 4 X-band radars that cover 360° The nose radar has 1514 T/R modules with a range of 400km on 1sqm targets and two side arrays with 414 T/R modules each with range of 110km+ there no numbers on T/R of the rear radar it may be RWR only or another full radar. The Felon also incorporates two L-band arrays in which many argue about their uses but I believe because they are part of the radar system. It also has probably the best IRST in current fighter with the quantum well technology(QWIP) with minimum range 130km. The OLS-50M and 101KS-V Infra-red Search And Track System ( IRST ) is designed to detect heat emissions from aircraft and missiles passively. IRST are essentially thermographic cameras that detect and track heat sources without emitting any radiation in the process ( passive ).

The SU-57 in stealth mode can carry the R-77M a medium distance dual pulse motor missile with a range of up to 193km with datalink the missile has a AESA seeker that when it picture is completed may have largest NEZ of any missile again that is opinion not a fact. The R-37M has a version called the Izdeliye 810 with folding wings. There are pictures of it being manufactured and information it would be included in the SU-57E so we will assume it is an option. The range is said to be 300km+. For short range internal bays the RVV-MD2 missiles is equipped with a combined guidance system, which includes inertial guidance plus a multi-element double-channel infrared seeker with increased resistance to interference, plus a radio correction receiving channel. The missile can independently determine its coordinates in space, regardless of external factors. The scanning area of the homing seeker in the forward hemisphere is 180°, which allows tracking all evasive maneuvers of the attacked enemy aircraft.

BVR Analysis

This will be a contentious topic as the Westerners have a very hard time with accepting anything but clear dominance and that is simply is not the case if you look at the open source available data. The fact is that the F-22 and the SU-57 are the standouts in this category. Yes the F-35 networking with multiple platforms is a great ability but we cannot look at things from that perspective. In a battle AWACS will be destroyed and communications disrupted. The individual abilities of the fighter to perform in a contested environment is the measuring stick. The SU-57 and F-22 radars outrange both the F-35 and J-20 along with longer range passive sensors. The SU-57 has upper hand in missile range and ability to fire totally passively. The AN/ALR-94 cannot create a firing solution without the use of its radar which will alert fighters to being targeted, especially the SU-57 with 4 X-band radars.

There is one more combat avionics system made especially for BVR that the SU-57 has, it is unique in the fighter aviation community. It is called BOSES-TU ‘Duel’ ,this is from one western sources in 2014 :

”This is the first time we have seen such a system anywhere. This system enables the aircraft to be programmed with the capabilities of its adversary, allowing for the aircraft to track its opponent and recommend optimized decisions to the pilot, creating a fine balance of man and machine. Such a system is only the tip of the iceberg with what can be done, it’s the first time we have seen the introduction of AI on a combat platform.”

Aircraft Operational Recommendation Expertise System of Tactical Level called ‘Duel’ for usage in BVR combat. Besides the Su-35S ,only the new Su-57 has this combat system. Something like this western fighters do not possess. What is the story about? Thanks to Russian Intel ,hundreds of flight and maneuvering performance data, combat potential and other details and data for all operational western 4th and 5te gen fighters are stored in two 6-processor/Elbrus-4S/ digital comps type Baget-53-31M. So this system helps pilot of Su-35/57 to take decisions and actions in BVR combat in all possible tactical/combat scenarios: 1vs1,1vs2,2vs1,2vs2,2vs4 or vice versa and in squadron level.

In conclusion the BVR battle will most like be won by the F-22 or SU-57.

Stealth

Next we will cover the stealth of each aircraft,:

F-22 – Has a claimed RCS of 0.0001sqm. Whether this is correct or not it is the number most often quoted. While I have my doubts about the veracity of theses claims I will not cover that here and will just use the above number. This makes the F-22 the most stealthy fighter in the world.

F-35 – Has a claimed RCS of 0.001sqm. This would have it ranked as the second best stealth fighter in the world

J-20 – There are no official claimed numbers from the Chinese for the J-20. Therefore I choose to reputable modeler Dhimas Afihandarin who has estimated the J-20 to be around 0.2sqm which even he admits seems high but that is what the modeling says, therefore since we have nothing else to go by that is the number I have to be settled on.

SU-57 – There are many that try to use the patent as the basis for the SU-57 in which case the we should the ATF for the F-22 which called for the fighter to be 100x smaller than 10sqm F-15 which equals out to 0.1sqm. Lockheed has since revised that number to 0.0001sqm. Russia has said the actual number is classified. So again I turned to Dhimas Afihandarin who is one of the only modelers to take into account radar blockers and screens and carbon fiber skin. According to his modeling the SU-57 RCS is around 0.006sqm. Which would put the SU-57 firmly in third place in the stealth race.

Stealth Analysis

Stealth is a very interesting topic people obsess about having the lowest RCS number, and yes in certain situations that is most important factor. How the fighter will be used matters more though. If you plan for your plane to do deep penetration SEAD and DEAD mission that small RCS will be vital. What is vital is that the rapid speed at which radars are catching up with stealth. The US has admitted they believe the S-400 radar can track and target a F-35. According to Alastair Crooke a well know retired intel specialist on the middle east with deep deep inside information. The reason the planned 24hr operation of Israel to attack Iran only lasted a few hours was due to the fact that F-35’s that were supposed to lead the charge being locked and targeted by an unknown radar. This radar is believed to be the S-400 Russia brought in to support Iranian IAD. This is not even the best Russian radar, that honor would go to the new S-500 radar not to mention the multiple ground radars used by China and Russia in multiple bands that are linked together to create a picture for their respective IAD’s.

Within the WVR realm which contrary to popular belief still exists. The stealth of an aircraft becomes much less important and Kinematics and pilots become the main measuring sticks along with missiles. If you look for example at the the ranges at which a F-22 for example would see an SU-57 on radar you are looking at about 37kms and that does not take into account EW abilities. Against a none peer adversary like Iraq, Libya, Syria, Afghanistan etc, stealth doesn’t matter. If you plan to take a F-22 and F-35 into an IAD that will also have alert aircraft like MiG-31’s , SU-57’s, J-16’s and J-20 they will not survive. Many will argue that the F-22 on a radar is a blip on a radar but a blip traveling at 1200km per hour is still a red flag. The Russians, Iranians and Chinese have been building a radar blueprint for these planes for over 20 years.

The Russians and Chinese do not do SEAD and DEAD missions as a general rule they are more apt to use missiles to destroy air defences. Stealth is vital and against non peer opponents it can be deadly. However for those countries that still plan tp use modern air power as their main strategy, I would advise them to re-think that strategy going against a peer level IAD network.

In conclusion the Lockheed brother definitely win the stealth game. However that does not give them the edge it did 20 years ago when the F-22 took to the skies to be part of the US Air Force.

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Air to Ground/Stand-off munitions

F-22– This where the F-22 really falls down it can really only carry 2 1000lbs GBU-32 PGM 445lbs of explosives with 15km range.

F-35 – The F-35 can carry internally 2 JSM range 275km+ or 8 SDB PGM with 105lbs of explosive each or it can carry a total of two GBU-32’s. Typical loadout for ground attack is 2 GBU-32’s PGM 445lbs of explosives and 2 AIM-120D.

J-20 – The J-20 is intended to carry internally the LS-6/50 PGM 110lbs of explosive and LS6/100 PGM 220lbs of explosive. Quantities unknown.

SU-57 – The Su-57 can carry internally D-30SN glide bomb 220lbs of explosive 90km range, KAB-250 PGM 365lbs of explosives KAB-500 PGM 990lbs of explosives, Kh-36 Grom-E2 Glide bomb range 50km 551lbs of explosive, Kh-59MK2 290km range 705lbs of explosives, Kh-69 400km range 683lbs of explosives. Kh-31 260km range 207lbs of explosives.(anti-ship/anti-radiation). Kh-35U 300km range 320lbs of explosive, Kh-58UShKe 260km range 328lbs of explosives.

In this category there is a clear winner, and that is the SU-57 it has by far the most variety and destructive firepower. On top of that unlike some of the air-to-air missiles all of these munitions have been used in either Syria or Ukraine or both. The SU-57 has the ability to dominate ground warfare without even entering the IAD envelope of all the Western IAD’s.

Another caveat is that the Russian create all missiles with belief they may have to carry a nuclear warhead one day. So missiles like Kh-69 or the smaller version of Kinzhal intended for the weapons bay of SU-57 or the new long range prototype cruise missile based on the Kh-555 with a range of 2,500km could possibly carry long range stand-off nuclear missiles.

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Avionics/Sensor Fusion

This is a very interesting subject because sensor fusion is such a new term and function on the battlefield. The consensus is that the F-35 does it best and I can see why people say that. The way the US has chosen use fusion is very efficient and creative things like being able to see through the fighter and fusing the information from the radar and cameras to display on the helmet is very impressive feat of engineering. The F-22 does have sensor fusion but not to the level or in same way that the F-35 does but enough to give excellent awareness in the sky. There is literally nothing open source on China that I can find. The Russian definitely do sensor fusion integrating all the sensor to create a picture of the battle space along with what they call the second pilot AI system that manages many functions thus allowing pilot to concentrate on the fight.

People will speak about the avionics of F-22 and F-35 being superior to the SU-57 but factually the SU-57’s electronics and eternals are superior to block 3 F-35 let alone F-22. The F-35 current (Block 3) has a less powerful ICP than the Su-57’s compute module. The F-35 uses PowerPC MPC7448 chips vs Elbrus-4S (quad-core Elbrus) on the Su-57. The F-22 is even worse, it uses i960MX processors. This is supposed to change on F-35 when Block 4 comes out. On top of that the SU-57 uses NTC Module 1879VM8Ya (sixteen-core NeuroMatrix DSPs with five-core ARM controllers AI accelerators, and all the networking is done by fiber optics. The radar uses second generation gallium arsenide elements.

Who has the best sensor fusion? The realty is we do not know, yes the F-35 under ideal circumstances can interface with the most assets but the chance in a real WWIII type scenario that is going to available is probably zero. The question for me is who systems will allow their pilots to kill the most adversaries efficiently. It is great to be able to see through your fighter but is that better than side radars that can see from a fighter from over 100kms away. What picture does fusing Optical, L, and X-band together to create a firing solution vs the AN/ALR-94. The actual only way to tell whose system is the best is to have an actual war and have them battle it out. I am sure they will all have their strengths and weaknesses but trying to use red flag events as your proof of superiority is foolish. As far as I am concerned this is an immeasurable category.

Kinematics

F-35- F-135 engine with serrated nozzles 43,000lbs thrust with afterburners 28,000lbs without AB, T/W at normal takeoff weight of 1.07, wing loading 526 kg/m2, Mach 1.6. The F-35 cannot supercruise and is limited to about 10 min of supersonic flight unless there is an emergency. Range internal fuel 1400km. Climb rate 277m/s.

F-22 – F-119 engine with 2D flat nozzles 35,000lbs x 2=70,000lbs with afterburners 50,,000lbs without AB, T/W at normal take off weight 1.25 wing loading 377 kg/m2, top speed Mach 2.25. The F-22 can supercruise at Mach 1.8 and has a range without drop tanks 1000km. Climb rate 350m/s.

J-20 – WS-10C engine with serrated nozzles 32,000lbs x 2=64,000lbs with afterburners unknown dry thrust, T/W 0.95 wing loading 340 kg/m2 , top speed Mach 2.0. The J-20 cannot supercruise and has a range of 3500km. Climb rate 304m/s. Top Speed Mach 2.

SU-57 – AL-41F1 engine with 3D TVC 33,000lbs x2=66,000lbs with afterburners 39,600lbs without AB T/W at normal takeoff weight 1.15 wing loading 371 kg/m2, top speed Mach 2.0. The SU-57 can supercruise at Mach 1.3 and has a range of 3500km. Climb rate between 361–384m/s.

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Kinematics Analysis

This is the easiest to break down. The SU-57 is in a league of its own when it comes to the kinematic world. The design builds on Sukhoi’s knowledge from the flankers and adds LEVCONS, 3D TVC and the best aerodynamics of the 5th generations. The F-22 is no slouch here either with 2D TVC and lots of thrust. The J-20 for its size is very agile due to its canard delta wing setup. Lastly the F-35 might not be as bad as people claim but the numbers do not lie.

Command and Control

F-22– The F-22 was initially excluded from the Air Force’s data-sharing prototype, ABMS Capability Release 1, due to differences in communications design and development. However, the ACC Federal Laboratory has integrated combat apps onto the F-22 using an open software stack.

F-35 – MADL, when operated in conjunction with other F-35 sensors, can achieve the much sought-after goal of sharing threat data and helping the jet find and destroy enemy targets from ranges where it remains undetected. This ability, shown in several wargames in recent years, is something that F-35 pilots point to as a defining reason for its superiority.

J-20 – No open source information I can find.

SU-57 – The upgraded S-111 system uses AI based cognitive radio technology it enhances interference and intelligence immunity, helping it counter jamming and other electronic warfare techniques employed by adversaries. The equipment ensures data transmission validity by means of noiseless coding, message symbol interlacing, universal time synchronization for signal processing, simultaneous message transmission via parallel links, extending stable communication range, and using artificial intelligence technology. The system includes computers, interlacers and de-interlacers, high-frequency-band antenna tuners, digital signal processors, and noiseless encoders and decoders. This allows for seamless communication and battlefield management with all assets from the IAD, to ground forces to the control air battle space.

Again I prefer to look at how the fighters would perform independent of larger network but I am sure while AEW&C and AWACS will not survive the battle space the ability to work in coordination with other fighters will to some degree. The F-35 whole design is based on interoperability and the ability to pass on information to other fighters within the kill chain.

The F-22 is integrated but not to the degree that the F-35 is but is a lethal part of that chain.

The J-20 does have ability to link fighters together it has been spoken of but details are so sparse that it really impossible to say much of anything except do not underestimate the Chinese.

The SU-57 and the Russians have a very robust ability with the SU-30SM2, SU-35S, MiG-31 and SU-57 to communicate with the Russian networks. Many think Russia is far behind but it is actually not. Since the 80’s a group of four MiG-31s was capable of exchanging data in automatic mode regarding targets being tracked within 800km-wide sector with the ability to communicate to a distance of 2000km with ground command to target data to a ground or air-based targets. The SU-35S lead in 4 fighter group can target/pass information and even fire the missiles of the 3 other fighters while they fly passively. The SU-57 abilities are significantly more than these examples obviously.

In the end I would give F-35 the edge as this is its primary strength, however the other 3 fighters should not be underestimated.

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Electronic Warfare

F-35 – In today’s signal-dense environments, the AN/ASQ-239 system provides long-range 360-degree, full-spectrum situational awareness and rapid-response capabilities. Its offensive and defensive capabilities include threat warning, radio-frequency and infrared countermeasures, and targeting support – allowing pilots to detect, analyze, and counter threats and reach well-defended targets.

F-22 – BAE Systems’ AN/ALR-94 digital electronic warfare system geolocates potential threats by detecting adversary radars at significant ranges, allowing the F-22 Raptor to limit its own radar emissions, enabling it to better conceal its location when operating in hostile territory. Data collected by the AN/ALR-94 system helps identify, monitor, analyze, and rapidly respond to threats by providing the pilot with maximum situational awareness. Advanced avionics and sensors provide a complete view of the battlespace, enabling pilot to take appropriate action and ensure mission success. The AN/ALR-94 electronic warfare system also is reliable and maintainable reducing long-term life cycle costs.

J-20 – I am sure there is one but again there is no information except about electronic warfare support drones

SU-57 – The L402 Himalayas system works on the principle of active jamming, which involves emitting powerful radio signals to disrupt and confuse enemy radar and communication systems. It also includes passive jamming, which involves analyzing and mimicking enemy signals to deceive their systems. Passive jamming involves detecting the radar signals emitted by the enemy radar system and then transmitting a signal that interferes with the radar’s ability to detect targets. This can be done without alerting the enemy to the presence of the jamming aircraft, allowing it to remain undetected and avoid being targeted by the enemy. Passive jamming is an effective countermeasure against radar-guided weapons and is an important component of modern air defense systems.

This again is a very hard again to gauge. EW is the biggest secret of all in fighter aircraft, the basics are known but details are never given. Personally I think they are all most likely excellent BAE has a great reputation and Russian EW is also very good. Knowing which one will do the best job is impossible. The only way to know is a war, without that it is all talk and speculation.

The Conclusion

After doing this review I am going to give the J-20 an incomplete grade as their is just not enough information in open sources to do a proper evaluation. I will try find more info and update this post.

After all this what have determined. When it comes to BVR the F-22 and SU-57 are the ones to beat especially against 4th generation platforms. The SU-57 has actually had a BVR kill with R-37M at 217km. WVR Again this will be the domain of the SU-57 and F-22 with SU-57 having the advantage in maneuverability and the fact it can shot off-boresight missiles. The ground attack game is all SU-57 the F-22 can drop a couple bombs well within any IAD of almost any country. The F-35 is designed to be a ground attack queen but the SU-57 has better variety, firepower and range on its munitions. Avionics all the fighters have elite avionics made to work within their fighting doctrine. The US leverages it worldwide network of allies and bases and ships to create an electronic picture. THE Russians design there fighters around being part of their IAD defence as mini AWACS to fill in the gaps in IAD and attack threats to IAD. In a electronically degraded environment with GPS and electronic communication limited it becomes a BVR and WVR fight which we have already covered. Electronic warfare again realistically all the fighters do very well, whose system works best we would only know in actual wartime scenario it is all chest thumping bravado right now. Stealth the US fighter win hands down, but the truth is that according to modeling the Su-57 will most likely be within visual range before the missiles start flying. Plus Russia and China plan to fight in their own backyards with IAD coverage, with the networking of radars it is highly doubtful even an F-22 or any fighter will go undetected.

So which on is the best all around I think everyone has an opinion. Most will say that if you do not pick one of the American fighters then you are crazy or you are Russian or Chinese bots. The lack of intellect behind those kind of statements is something I find amusing or just ignore.

The SU-57 is essentially an omni role stealth plane. With the most varied types of armaments’ tied for best range and has best kinematics overall of the 5th generation. It is also the only fighter to prove itself with BVR and WVR kills along with standoff destruction of infrastructure and IAD. There are individual abilities that other fighters do better but all around I think it is quite indisputable which fighter is the best overall .

How I lost my home language | from Picture This comedy special

How serious is the Chinese military’s lack of experience?

As serious as it is for us.

Answers like that of Roland’s anger me because they’re very clearly propaganda designed to paper over real problems. What I and all the officers at USTRANSCOM saw were challenges that were unique to our situation, drawn by several factors:

The GWOT went on for too long and we had become too specialized in COIN. This created a need for the force to unlearn and reorient, both of which were fraught with uncertainty because we did not have experience in whatever was going to be the war of the future (but we were certain it wasn’t going to be a repeat of the last 50 years).
Adoption of new strategies and defenses against new cyberwarfare were fraught with talent issues. People like Roland do not spend their time asking how good the quality of nerds are at J6. Maybe he knows of some magical staffing fixes in the intervening time, but I am not holding my breath given how often Americans repeat to themselves myths like “I am not a math person.” This is especially true of the American nationalist who values loyalty over talent, which is why I have next to no confidence that the more loyalist posturing we exhibit the better our cyber is going to be. If anything this tends to be an inverse relationship.

The gap between theory and practice is insurmountable without fighting a war of its kind. Yes, we have our heads on straight figuring out what the next plan ought to be. That is not the hard part; most influential players today seem to be perfectly capable of this as well. The bottleneck for now is in the trial— there just aren’t many opportunities to test the theory out. The breakout of war will change that, but then we all will simply have the next bottlenecks exposed.

I don’t care that we are good at transporting goods. That’s the mantra to make people look away from the obvious factor that we transport goods over distances and the expected place where there will be a war is extremely far away from us compared to China, and that such a distance exists in more than one dimension (the complexity of the system grows geometrically, not linearly). Even if we presume we are able to surmount this challenge, the real issue is in replenishment. A lot of people have argued either from the historical perspective (arsenal of democracy) or from a spending perspective that we can easily scale up and replenish losses. Fundamentally, these people show a great amount of disrespect towards the needs of engineering. The fact of the matter is that we only have a strategic degree of civilian factories that we can convert into military production, particularly in shipbuilding, and we also have an intense lack of engineering workforce that can fill in the missing factory positions. Hell, it should already be bizarre that anyone proposes a scenario where we retain half of our ships or aircraft in a real shooting war with China. From where does this infinite confidence stem, in this day and age of Oreshnik missiles, Navy “mistakes,” and surprise 6th gen aircraft? And how long do people think we can afford to take with replenishment and logistics, given that Taiwan is right off the coast of China and halfway across the world from the vast majority of our industry? That alone will permit China a great many mistakes of inferiority, in a scenario where the US and China have in-kind experience fighting that kind of war (observation in Ukraine and elsewhere, training exercises, simulations, low intensity peacetime logistics). This was very aptly demonstrated the last time the US and China were in a direct, high intensity war!

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If anything China was far more inferior to the US during the Korean War and it was still fought to a stalemate. Now that China is much less inferior relative to the US, we expect that somehow the US is going to win?

Slander never won us wars, and racist slander tends to lead to the greatest complacency. When someone insists that we should embrace such propaganda on account of feeding our fighting spirit, ask yourself how that went with the fascists of the past. I have never considered this rhetoric to be prudent, and neither should anyone here tolerate it as such. There is a nasty historical pattern in which the more this rhetoric is present, the more the institutions issuing such rhetoric believe in their own lies.

I truly hope the military has not succumbed to this hubris. For anyone who still has unreasonable confidence in the speed to which we can update our warfighting capacity (especially logistics), let me ask you: How long did it take for us to switch to MRAPs? And how long did it take for the USMC to do the same switch?

The addendum: How long did it take for the Ukranians and Russians to switch to anti-drone countermeasures? How long do you think it will take us?

How serious is the Chinese military’s lack of experience?

It’s not that serious and the people who are suggesting that it is here, are doing so without any proper arguments or evidence. China’s military certainly hasn’t fought a major war, but most of the world’s military forces hasn’t. I see people suggesting China would fail a fight with Taiwan because of this lack of experience, why? Taiwan has more military experience?

The Chinese has the largest navy in the world, and no naval combat experience, neither did Ukraine when it sank the Moskva.

Unlike fighting experience, logistical experience is something you can actually get in peace time. Rodra Hascaryo’s answer talks about logistics, but it is basically saying that the USA had great logistics in WW2, and China doesn’t because they haven’t fought. First of all, the USA had no major combat experience prior to WW2, so he has made the argument that isn’t necessary for great logistics, second of all he has not addressed a shred of knowledge that we have on Chinese logistics, despite the fact that the US War College have an update to date and open source book on the subject.[1]

Bartetzko’s answer is based entirely on ignorance and racism. An even better basis of course. Bartetzko opens with a quote from General Eric Smith of the US Marine Corps, who said that the last Chinese war was so long ago that it was captured on oil and canvas unlike American wars which are captured on iphones. Incredible that both Bartetzko and a General in charge of preparing war against China, are so ignorant of China that they think the Chinese didn’t have cameras in the 1950s when they fought, let me just check my notes here, the USA in Korea.

Bartetzko goes on to say that NATO has perfected the way to fight modern wars, this is why we win all of them, like Afghanistan which we won, and Vietnam which we also won, just like Libya, Syria and Iraq, which are all war zones which we won and turned out exactly how we wanted it, and let’s not forget Somalia, which we fixed.

Finally Bartetzko realize that the Chinese mind is actually the real problem for them, they just can’t use their brain as good as us. Because the key element to the Chinese brain is conformity, they are historically known as very unimaginative people you see. Bartetzko does not actually directly point to any evidence or cultural traits of China in this regard of course, probably because his primary source of information is a US general who doesn’t know the Korean war happened.

China lacks experience, as does any nation not currently in war. Experience can be gained at different levels and in different ways. Experience is also transferable. If experience was not transferable, then tactics would never progress beyond what a single person could learn in life, and schools wouldn’t make much sense. Experience in modern warfare is without a doubt being acquired by China right now. You do not think they have observers in Ukraine with the Russians? Of course they do, they are watching and learning as much as everyone else.

I am not an expert on everything Chinese, but it is stupid and dangerous to think that between 1.4 billion Chinese people they can’t find capable officers, logisticians and tacticians, because of racial traits and culture, or that they don’t know how to load equipment on ships and move them around.

China moves around more material everyday, than all of Europe and USA combined. China has actually fought wars, and I think the key thing from those wars we should learn is that when China was serious, they were able to fight the USA to a stand still to the point that US generals thought nuclear weapons against a non nuclear country was the only way to attain victory. That is China after a civil war at its lowest, with the USA at one of it’s most productive periods in history. Of course, if your generals are so ignorant they don’t know this happened at all in Korea, of course they will not learn anything. You could say that experience is lost.

Chicken Divan Pie

Yield: 6 to 8 servings

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups cooked rice
4 eggs, divided
1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Cheddar cheese
1 cup milk
1 cup broccoli, cooked and chopped
1 cup chicken or turkey, cooked and chopped
1/4 cup green onions, chopped
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 dash ground black pepper
1/4 cup (1 ounce) Parmesan cheese, grated

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
In small bowl, combine rice and 1 of the eggs: mix well. Press rice mixture onto bottom and up side of lightly greased 9 inch pie plate.
In large bowl, toss cheddar cheese with flour. Add remaining 3 eggs, milk, broccoli, chicken, onions, salt and pepper: mix well. Pour over rice crust. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
Bake for 50 to 60 minutes or until set in center.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Why Are Maintenance Men So Attractive?

When Sully hit birds, even the flight attendants knew they had to return to La Guardia (based on the movie). The return scenarios said that if he began turning immediately, he could have made it back, why did he not start turning immediately?

Sully did not immediately turn back, because he did not immediately know that power was permanently lost in both engines, and he did not immediately know that LaGuardia was actually within reach. You’re much more likely to get into more trouble by taking immediate and irreversible action in an emergency without thought.

If Sully had immediately turned back, the plane would have disproportionately lost altitude in the turn, possibly eliminating other landing spots from consideration, and not being able to reach LaGuardia. The altitude lost in the turn is altitude you won’t get back.

Sully and his first officer, per the transcript, determined they were unable to reach LaGuardia within one minute, and briefly considered Teterboro. (“1” is Sully, “2” is the First Officer.)

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The flight attendants speculated they would return to LaGuardia, apparently, but they also did not know if LaGuardia was within reach, and if power could be restored to at least one engine.

15:26:37 HOT-1 uh what a view of the Hudson today.

15:26:42 HOT-2 yeah.

15:26:52 HOT-2 flaps up please, after takeoff checklist.

15:26:54 HOT-1 flaps up.

15:27:07 HOT-1 after takeoff checklist complete.

15:27:10.4 HOT-1 birds.

15:27:11 HOT-2 whoa.

15:27:11.4 CAM [sound of thump/thud(s) followed by shuddering sound]

15:27:12 HOT-2 oh #.

15:27:13 HOT-1 oh yeah.

15:27:13 CAM [sound similar to decrease in engine noise/frequency begins]

15:27:14 HOT-2 uh oh.

15:27:15 HOT-1 we got one rol- both of ’em rolling back.

15:27:18 CAM [rumbling sound begins and continues until approximately 15:28:08]

15:27:18.5 HOT-1 ignition, start.

15:27:21.3 HOT-1 I’m starting the APU.

15:27:22.4 FWC [sound of single chime]

15:27:23.2 HOT-1 my aircraft.

15:27:24 HOT-2 your aircraft.

15:27:24.4 FWC [sound of single chime]

15:27:25 CAM [sound similar to electrical noise from engine igniters begins]

15:27:26.5 FWC priority left. [auto callout from the FWC. this occurs when the sidestick priority button is activated on the Captain’s sidestick]

15:27:26.5 FWC [sound of single chime]

15:27:28 CAM [sound similar to electrical noise from engine igniters ends]

15:27:28 HOT-1 get the QRH… [Quick Reference Handbook] loss of thrust on both engines.

15:27:30 FWC [sound of single chime begins and repeats at approximately 5.7 second intervals until 15:27:59]

15:27:32.9 RDO-1 mayday mayday mayday. uh this is uh Cactus fifteen thirty nine hit birds, we’ve lost thrust (in/on) both engines we’re turning back towards LaGuardia.

15:27:42 DEP ok uh, you need to return to LaGuardia? turn left heading of uh two two zero.

15:27:43 CAM [sound similar to electrical noise from engine igniters begins]

15:27:44 FWC [sound of single chime, between the single chimes at 5.7 second intervals]

15:27:46 RDO-1 two two zero.

15:27:50 HOT-2 if fuel remaining, engine mode selector, ignition.* ignition.

15:27:54 HOT-1 ignition.

15:27:55 HOT-2 thrust levers confirm idle.

15:27:58 HOT-1 idle.

15:28:02 HOT-2 airspeed optimum relight. three hundred knots. we don’t have that.

15:28:03 FWC [sound of single chime]

15:28:05 HOT-1 we don’t.

15:28:05 DEP Cactus fifteen twenty nine, if we can get it for you do you want to try to land runway one three?

15:28:05 CAM-2 if three nineteen-

15:28:10.6 RDO-1 we’re unable. we may end up in the Hudson.

15:28:14 HOT-2 emergency electrical power… emergency generator not online.

15:28:18 CAM [sound similar to electrical noise from engine igniters ends]

15:28:19 HOT-1 (it’s/is) online.

15:28:21 HOT-2 ATC notify. squawk seventy seven hundred.

15:28:25 HOT-1 yeah. the left one’s coming back up a little bit.

15:28:30 HOT-2 distress message, transmit. we did.

15:28:31 DEP arright Cactus fifteen forty nine its gonna be left traffic for runway three one.

15:28:35 RDO-1 unable.

15:28:36 TCAS traffic traffic.

15:28:36 DEP okay, what do you need to land?

15:28:37 HOT-2 (he wants us) to come in and land on one three…for whatever.

15:28:45 PWS go around. windshear ahead.

15:28:45 HOT-2 FAC [Flight Augmentation Computer] one off, then on.

15:28:46 DEP Cactus fifteen (twenty) nine runway four’s available if you wanna make left traffic to runway four.

15:28:49.9 RDO-1 I’m not sure we can make any runway. uh what’s over to our right anything in New Jersey maybe Teterboro?

15:28:55 DEP ok yeah, off your right side is Teterboro airport.

15:28:59 TCAS monitor vertical speed.

15:29:00 HOT-2 no relight after thirty seconds, engine master one and two confirm-

15:29:02 DEP you wanna try and go to Teterboro?

15:29:03 RDO-1 yes.

15:29:05 TCAS clear of conflict.

15:29:07 HOT-2 -off.

15:29:07 HOT-1 off.

15:29:10 HOT-2 wait thirty seconds.

15:29:11 PA-1 this is the Captain brace for impact.

15:29:14.9 GPWS one thousand.

15:29:16 HOT-2 engine master two, back on.

15:29:18 HOT-1 back on.

15:29:19 HOT-2 on.

15:29:21 DEP Cactus fifteen twenty nine turn right two eight zero, you can land runway one at Teterboro.

15:29:21 CAM-2 is that all the power you got? * (wanna) number one? or we got power on number one.

15:29:25 RDO-1 we can’t do it.

15:29:26 HOT-1 go ahead, try number one.

15:29:27 DEP kay which runway would you like at Teterboro?

15:29:27 FWC [sound of continuous repetitive chime for 9.6 seconds ]

15:29:28 RDO-1 we’re gonna be in the Hudson.

15:29:33 DEP I’m sorry say again Cactus?

15:29:36 HOT-2 I put it back on.

15:29:37 FWC [sound of continuous repetitive chime for 37.4 seconds ]

15:29:37 HOT-1 ok put it back on… put it back on.

15:29:37 GPWS too low. terrain.

15:29:41 GPWS too low. terrain.

15:29:43 GPWS too low. terrain.

15:29:44 HOT-2 no relight.

15:29:45.4 HOT-1 ok lets go put the flaps out, put the flaps out.

15:29:45 EGPWS caution. terrain.

15:29:48 EGPWS caution terrain.

15:29:48 HOT-2 flaps out?

15:29:49 EGPWS terrain terrain. pull up. pull up.

15:29:51 DEP Cactus uh….

15:29:53 DEP Cactus fifteen forty nine radar contact is lost you also got Newark airport off your two o’clock in about seven miles.

15:29:55 EGPWS pull up. pull up. pull up. pull up. pull up. pull up.

15:30:01 HOT-2 got flaps out.

15:30:03 HOT-2 two hundred fifty feet in the air.

15:30:04 GPWS too low. terrain.

15:30:06 GPWS too low. gear.

15:30:06 CAM-2 hundred and seventy knots.

15:30:09 CAM-2 got no power on either one? try the other one.

15:30:09 4718 two one zero uh forty seven eighteen. I think he said he’s goin in the Hudson.

15:30:11 HOT-1 try the other one.

15:30:13 EGPWS caution terrain.

15:30:14 DEP Cactus fifteen twenty nine uh, you still on?

15:30:15 FWC [sound of continuous repetitive chime begins and continues to end of recording]

15:30:15 EGPWS caution terrain.

15:30:16 HOT-2 hundred and fifty knots.

15:30:17 HOT-2 got flaps two, you want more?

15:30:19 HOT-1 no lets stay at two.

15:30:21 HOT-1 got any ideas?

15:30:22 DEP Cactus fifteen twenty nine if you can uh….you got uh runway uh two nine available at Newark it’ll be two o’clock and seven miles.

15:30:23 EGPWS caution terrain.

15:30:23 CAM-2 actually not.

15:30:24 EGPWS terrain terrain. pull up. pull up. [“pull up” repeats until the end of the recording]

15:30:38 HOT-1 we’re gonna brace.

15:30:38 HOT-2 * * switch?

15:30:40 HOT-1 yes.

15:30:41.1 GPWS (fifty or thirty)

15:30:42 FWC retard.

15:30:43.7 [End of Recording]

15:30:43.7 [End of Transcript]

This CAN’T Continue – US Credit Card Crisis Hits HIGHEST DEFAULT In 14 Years

Have you ever known someone who went on vacation and just decided they were going to stay?

Me.
After my freshman year of college, which I was fortunate enough to do on scholarship, I was broke, my truck was broke, and my scholarship was only for the year. I really couldn’t afford to continue, and needed money to fix my truck, so I moved back home to my dad’s house in North Florida and went to work for his construction company. However, my father and I were butting heads. Even though I was 19, had been on my own for a year, attended college on scholarship, made Dean’s list, and now was paying rent to him for my room and board, he still insisted on treating me like I was 12, with a ridiculous curfew, controlling my social life, and even who I could and couldn’t date.

As Christmas approached, my mom invited me to go visit her in Orange County, California for a couple weeks of Christmas vacation. As I had stayed in school for summer session, I hadn’t been to see her as I usually would have in summer. She offered to fly me out and pay expenses, so I jumped at the chance. I really needed the break from my father and his drama.

I flew out, and got busy seeing the West Coast family for the holidays and such. Mom then suggested we go snow skiing for a few days. Having grown up in Florida, this was completely new to me, and I was worried whether I’d manage to have any fun as a rank beginner, but mom, an avid skier, assured me I’d be fine. As I’d always loved the mountains, I thought, what the heck, at least there will be pretty scenery, and for sure my first “White Christmas.” So off we went to Mammoth Lakes, CA.

I definitely didn’t become a great skier (or even a good one) in four days, but I absolutely loved it there. It was breathtaking and so different from everything I was used to. Then I ended up on a chairlift next to a mountain employee. Her name was Melanie, and she was a peach! (Melanie, if you read this, you should recognize yourself in this story, and thank you!) I asked her what it was like to work there. She said it was great, free ski pass, employee housing available across the street from the main lodge for a very reasonable rate, and decent pay, much better than my father was paying me. I thought to myself, “Self, if I’m taking a year off from school to make some money, wouldn’t it be a whole lot nicer doing it here?” And my Self replied, “I do believe you are right!”

I marched into the mountain human resources office and applied for a job. Since I had worked at a popular fast food restaurant in high school and college, they hired me on the spot for one of their cafeterias, which was halfway up the mountainside. I also took a room at the employee housing. I literally walked across the parking lot each morning, boarded a gondola, and whisked a thousand feet up the mountain to work as a cashier in a glass walled cafeteria with a view from 10,000 ft of altitude.

Even better, I worked half-days on weekdays, and we had ski lockers downstairs, with a backdoor that opened onto the slopes. I skied 150+ days per year for the next four years, and lived there 7 years, total. I skied, hiked, camped, rockclimbed, bicycled, windsurfed, tubed, and waterskied more than I have the entire rest of my life. I also began volunteer firefighting, which I have continued to do since. On the fire department I also met a certain lady.

My 4-day ski vacation turned into 7 years, plus a wife and two kids. I did move to Atlanta after that and finish college, but I’ll always cherish my ski vacation!

Edit:
Nearly 2k upvotes, thanks! I’m glad this story resonates with so many.
In answer to several commenters, I thought I’d add some “rest of the story” explanations.

Given that they’d had a very acrimonious divorce a dozen years earlier, and were still both very bitter at the other, my mother was of course delighted that I moved away from my father and more into her sphere of influence.

She was also glad to have an excuse to go to Mammoth more often, and of course she might as well ski while she’s there, no? My father harrumphed a bit but had surprisingly little to say about the whole thing, other than, “Well, if you aren’t prepared to live by *my* rules, perhaps it’s best if you stay there.” All I could think was, “Oh pleeeeeease don’t throw me in the briar patch, B’rer Bear!”

I did, as I mentioned, return to school and finish my degree, Nuclear Engineering at Georgia Tech. I am still married to the same great lady I met on the volunteer fire department 34 years ago. As I’ve moved, I’ve been on three different volunteer departments over the years, and have been Chief of my current one for over 10 years now.

I still keep touch with many friends from Mammoth, including several from the fire department. It really did become the center of my life the last few years I was there. I’ve been to visit a couple of times and been to a fire department “old-timers” reunion. And, living back in Florida, I torture myself by getting the ski reports from Mammoth Mountain, just to keep up on how much snow they’ve gotten (almost 60 feet last year!).

Perhaps it’ll be time for another ski vacation soon…..

Europe Just Admitted: “The Factories Are Gone Forever”

The asshole neighbor who loved his grass.

When I was growing up in the small town of East Brady, PA we had a neighbor that lived up the hill from us.

He was a reclusive sort.

I guess, friendly enough, but kind of rude.

And the reason why I say this is that every time we had friends over for a backyard BBQ; a little outing in our back yard, he would burn mounds of (cut lawn) grass in a large oil drum that would send thick whitish – grey smoke onto our gathering…

Each, and every time.

Every single FUCKING time.

Every…

…single…

…time.

Knowing what I know now, as a much older and experienced man, I dare say that I would be more proactive than my blue-pilled father. I get it, maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn’t, Who knows how I would react and what actions would I take if I were in my father’s shoes?

But one thing is a truth.

Our neighbor was intentionally rude, and being intentionally rude is very, very wrong. It is socially unacceptable. It is a sign of something being amiss, and suggestive of being mentally ill to some extent.

Anyways…

Guys, pay attention to those that intentionally and continuously harass you; belittle you or who are rude to you.

Distance yourself, and come up with strategies on how to deal with them.

Serious talk.

Listen to me.

Today…

Blushing Berry Pie

Yield: 8 servings

Ingredients

1/2 packet frozen ready-rolled piecrust defrosted
1 pound fresh strawberries, divided
4 ounces white chocolate, broken into squares
1 lemon
2 teaspoons powdered gelatin
1 (8 ounce) package full fat soft cheese, softened
1 (8 ounce) carton crème fraîche
5 tablespoons lemon curd
2 ounces icing sugar
8 ounces fresh raspberries

Instructions

Heat oven to 400 degrees F. Let piecrust stand at room temperature for 15 minutes.
Place pastry round in Deep Dish Pie Plate. Gently press dough into bottom and up sides of plate using Baker’s Roller™. Prick bottom and sides of pastry case using pastry tool; decoratively flute edge.
Bake for 20 to 22 minutes or until golden brown.
Cool completely.
Rinse strawberries and pat dry. Select 8 uniformly-sized strawberries for decoration. Slice each strawberry in half using Paring Knife, leaving stems on each half; set aside. Hull remaining strawberries using Cook’s Corer™; slice using Egg Slicer Plus™.
Place white chocolate in Large Micro-Cooker®. Microwave on HIGH 1 minute; stir every 20 seconds or until melted and smooth. Dip strawberry halves in melted chocolate; place cut-side down on a sheet of Parchment Paper.
Refrigerate for 15 minutes or until set.
Meanwhile, spread remaining melted chocolate over bottom of baked pastry using Skinny Scraper. Layer sliced strawberries over bottom of crust; set aside. Finely zest lemon using Lemon Zester/Scorer; set aside. Juice lemon using Juicer. Add cold water to juice to measure 3 1/2 fl ounces. Place lemon juice mixture in Small Batter Bowl. Microwave on HIGH 30-50 seconds or until liquid is hot but not boiling. Sprinkle gelatin over hot liquid; whisk until dissolved. Cool slightly.
Combine soft cheese, crème fraîche, lemon zest, lemon curd and icing sugar in Classic Batter Bowl; mix until smooth. Add dissolved gelatin; whisk until smooth using Stainless Steel Whisk. Spread cheese mixture evenly over strawberries. Arrange raspberries evenly over top of pie filling. Place dipped strawberry halves around edge of pie.
Refrigerate 30 minutes.
Serve using Slice ’N Serve®.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Musk Warns “America Is Headed For Bankruptcy SUPER FAST!”

Fun Comix

Inspiration in the Park

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story with the line “I wasn’t expecting that.”… view prompt

John Steckley

The wooded area in the local park was my favourite place to go to when I was but a lad, living a short walk away. I spent many hours on my own there, but I did not for a second feel that I was alone. I felt welcomed there every time. The trees were my best friends, particularly the cluster of cedars.In fact it was a place that gave me confidence in myself. When I was ten years old, I felt the attraction of becoming a writer. No one knew that I had that feeling, certainly not any family members or friends. And when I went to the park, ideas for stories appeared to me beginning with blue waves of beginning words appearing in my head. They initiated tales about aliens in my head.I received no support from my English teachers. Several of them demonstrated with their commentary that they did not even like what I had written. They said that my stories were way too unreal, too far-fetched to have anyone accept the basic premises they were based on. Fortunately, although that shocked me at first, I learned to ignore their commentary. I am so glad I did.I would have never been published if I had taken their negativism for truth. I submitted my first story to a local newspaper in my small town. It was for the Christmas issue. I came up with an idea for a kind of supernatural story after taking a walk in what would become my inspiration place. I did not tell my English teacher of the time, even though he encouraged his students to enter the contest, offering to make suggestions before they submitted their piece. I was not going to let him insist that I make changes in it, and generally put my work down. He did not like that I only wrote stories about aliens. I liked the story just as it was. And I was not the only person to do so. The editor of the paper loved it, and published it the week after the contest had ended. I even received some money for the piece, and I was termed the ‘winner’ of the contest, even though several of the other stories were published as well – none of them written by my fellow high school students. My English teacher of the time did not comment in class when school opened up again in January. Later I heard two teachers talking about the fact that he had submitted his own short story, but had not been published. When they thought that I wasn’t looking and listening (I have very good hearing), they pointed at me and one of them said, “That boy over there was the winner.”After I graduated from high school, I applied for the English Literature program. They accepted me, certainly not because of my marks from my always always critical teachers, but because I had won the contest, and had since published several short stories in several literary magazines, all of them about aliens, and all inspired by trips to the park. I would have no idea what I was going to write about until I was in my special part of the park. Once there, voices inside me started my stories. Nowhere else did that for me.My First BookIn the summer after my initial year of university, I wrote my first book. To no surprise to me, my family and my friends, it carried a story of the presence of aliens on earth. It was easier to write such a long work than I ever thought it would be. My summer job was in a factory not far away from the park of my inspirations. I could and did walk to it in my lunch break, always carrying a pen and paper to copy down the ideas about the story that would come to me as I sat on a stump and ate the lunch my mother had prepared for me. Pretty much every day I had to finish eating my mom’s sandwiches while walking back to work. And her sandwiches are great! The ideas that flowed into my head took precedence.That book became a series about a particular group of aliens. By the time that I graduated with my English Literature degree, there were four books in the series. The last one was the longest, and was very much the hardest one to stop writing. I stayed in the park overnight, because I could not walk away from my source of inspiration.Another series began and ended in graduate school, this time with four books. More nights were spent in the park. I brought a tent, which when not used I hid in the underbrush.When I graduated I soon applied to and received a teaching position at a high school in town, but not the one with the English teachers that undervalued my work. I did not want to have anything to do with them.I soon became known as the ‘Find a Place’ professor, as I told my students about how the place I had found had been such an influence on all of my writing. A good number of my students tried to find their own place for writing inspiration. It helped some of them, one of whom said to me with some excitement as he walked, almost skipping, into the classroom ‘it worked, it worked’. Not one have published as yet, but I think that it is just a matter of time before a few of them do.Seeking a VisionIt has been a while now since I have done any writing. But that should not be a surprise to me, as I haven’t been able to get to the park in over a month. I have had to spend a lot of time marking, and being with my newly-married wife. She knows about my link with the park, and has suggested a few times that I should go there, but I thought that I should dedicate my ‘spare time’ with her in the early days of our being married.

Then she insisted. The timing was right. I had sat at my desk at work, and my desk at home with no results in writing: sentences written were soon crossed out. I had a strong desire to go to the park and be inspired.

I walked into the park, the cedars blowing in a slight wind as if they were waving me hello. I looked up at their uppermost branches, which had earlier been a guaranteed inspiration. Words appeared in my mind, and I had an inspiration to write another alien story, maybe even a book. I began writing. Then I felt compelled to look up once more. I could not believe my eyes. There were shadowy blue creatures near the top of the trees, aliens obviously. I was not expecting that.

NOW Neocons Are READY: Make Taiwan The Ukraine Of Asia

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Monkey Mayhem

Ah, greetings once more, dear reader. It seems you can’t get enough of my tales of bravery, wit, and sheer genius. Who could blame you? Life on this farm is a never-ending parade of absurdity, and I, Sir Whiskerton, am the only one keeping it from descending into complete anarchy. Today, I shall regale you with a story of chaos, hilarity, and an unexpected visitor who turned our world upside down. This is the tale of The Monkey Mayhem—a case that involved bananas, a harmonica, and far too much swinging from barn rafters. Buckle up.

The Arrival

It began, as most of my troubles do, with an ear-piercing commotion. I was enjoying a peaceful nap in the shade of the big oak tree when I heard the animals shouting.

“WHAT IS THAT THING?!” Harold the rooster squawked, his feathers puffed up in alarm.

“It’s got FINGERS!” cried Henny Penny, flapping her wings as if the sky were falling (again).

“Is… is it supposed to be here?” asked Betty the sheep, blinking in confusion.

I groaned, stretched, and reluctantly padded over to the source of the chaos. The animals had gathered in a tight, nervous circle near the barn, their eyes wide as they stared at… something. When I pushed my way to the front, I saw it.

A monkey.

Yes, a monkey. Small, with a mischievous grin, fur as brown as the barn walls, and long arms that seemed perfectly designed for causing trouble. He was sitting on top of an overturned bucket, casually peeling a banana. Around his neck hung a harmonica, which he blew into every few seconds, producing a jaunty, if slightly off-key, tune.

“Who on earth are you?” I demanded, my green eyes narrowing.

The monkey looked at me, tilted his head, and grinned wider. “Name’s Banjo,” he said, in a voice that was far too cheerful for my liking. “Just passing through. Nice place you got here.”

“Passing through?” I repeated skeptically. “This is a farm, not a circus.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Banjo said, hopping onto the fence in one fluid motion. “I was part of a circus. But I got bored. Too many rules, you know? So I broke out. Figured I’d see the world.”

“And you landed here?”

“Yup!” He blew a quick, jaunty tune on his harmonica and tipped an imaginary hat. “Thanks for the hospitality!”
The Chaos Begins

From the moment Banjo arrived, life on the farm descended into chaos. He had absolutely no respect for the unwritten rules of farm stability, and within hours, he had everyone in a frenzy.

Rule #1: The barn is for resting, not playing.

Banjo turned it into his personal playground. He swung from the rafters like a furry acrobat, scattering hay everywhere and startling poor Bessie the cow so badly that she tipped over her water bucket.

Rule #2: The chicken coop is off-limits to outsiders.

Banjo ignored this completely. He waltzed into the coop, harmonica in hand, and serenaded the hens with a tune so lively that they started clucking and flapping in what could only be described as a chicken dance. Harold was furious.

Rule #3: Don’t touch Farmer Joe’s tools.

Banjo not only touched them—he rearranged them. Farmer Joe’s neatly organized workbench was left in complete disarray, with wrenches hanging from the barn rafters and a hammer inexplicably balanced on top of a weather vane.

The animals came to me, as they always do when things go wrong.

“Whiskerton, you have to do something!” Henny Penny begged.
“He’s turning the barnyard into a circus!” Harold squawked.
“He… he ate my carrots,” Porkchop the pig sniffled, looking thoroughly betrayed.

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

The Confrontation

I found Banjo sitting in the middle of the pasture, playing a soulful tune on his harmonica while balancing on one hand. A small crowd of animals had gathered to watch, their annoyance starting to give way to curiosity.

“Banjo,” I said, approaching him with my usual air of authority. “We need to talk.”

He flipped onto his feet and gave me a cheeky grin. “What’s up, Whiskers?”

“It’s Whiskerton,” I corrected, my tail flicking irritably. “And what’s up is you disrupting the farm. This place has rules, and you’re breaking all of them.”

“Rules?” Banjo said, scratching his head. “What’s the fun in rules?”

“Rules are what keep this farm running,” I said, my voice firm. “Without them, everything falls apart.”

Banjo shrugged. “Seems like everyone’s still standing to me. Besides, I’m just trying to liven things up. You ever notice how boring this place is?”

“Boring?” I echoed, offended. “This farm is perfectly balanced. It doesn’t need ‘livening up.’ It needs peace and order.”

“Peace and order, huh?” Banjo said, grinning. “Alright, let’s make a deal. If I can prove that a little chaos isn’t such a bad thing, I get to stay. If not, I’ll leave.”

I glared at him. I didn’t trust him, but I couldn’t resist a challenge. “Fine. But if you lose, you leave without complaint.”

“Deal!” Banjo said, shaking my paw enthusiastically. Then he blew a triumphant note on his harmonica and scampered off, leaving me wondering what I’d just agreed to.

The Monkey’s Plan

Over the next day, Banjo set out to prove his point. He organized a series of absurd activities that left the farm in an uproar—but, annoyingly, also brought a surprising amount of laughter.

He convinced the pigs to play a game of tug-of-war with an old rope, which ended with everyone falling into the mud and laughing hysterically.
He taught the chickens a synchronized dance routine, complete with harmonica accompaniment, which had even Harold grudgingly tapping his talons.

He turned the hay bales into a makeshift obstacle course, challenging the animals to races that left everyone cheering.

By the end of the day, the farm was a mess, but it was also filled with an energy I hadn’t seen before. Even I had to admit, begrudgingly, that Banjo’s antics had brought the animals closer together.

The Happy Ending

That evening, as the sun set over the farm, Banjo found me lounging on the barn roof.

“Well?” he said, sitting beside me. “Did I prove my point?”

I sighed. “You caused chaos. But… you also brought the animals together. I suppose there’s a place for a little fun, as long as it doesn’t disrupt the farm completely.”

Banjo grinned. “Does that mean I can stay?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. But only if you promise to follow the rules. Mostly.”

“Deal!” he said, holding out his paw for a high five. Reluctantly, I swatted it.

And so, Banjo stayed on the farm, his harmonica tunes becoming a familiar sound in the barnyard. The farm found a new balance—one that included a little chaos, a lot of laughter, and, of course, me keeping everyone in line.
The Moral of the Story

Sometimes, a little chaos is exactly what you need to remind you of what really matters: friendship, laughter, and the joy of trying something new. Just don’t let it interfere with my nap schedule.

The End.

Woman ARRESTED After Committing PATERNITY FRAUD!—Instant Consequences!

Almost all of China’s debt is owned by domestic organizations. Can you speculate if the central government can’t pay its obligations?

Total Debt held by Chinese National Government and backed by PBOC as on 30/9/24 = ¥ 64.77 Trillion

Annual Interest on National Debt = ¥ 1.38 Trillion

Total Debt held by Local Governments (Prefecture, Provincial & Country) and backed by PBOC as on 30/11/2024 = ¥ 6 Trillion

Total Debt held by Local Governments (Prefecture, Provincial & Country) and not backed by PBOC but by the local state agencies = ¥ 25.36 Trillion

Total Debt held by Government of China and backed by the PBOC = ¥ 70.77 Trillion

Total Debt held by Local state agencies in China = ¥ 25.36 Trillion

Total Debt held by all Public Agencies in China = ¥ 96.13 Trillion

Gross Domestic Product of China (2025) Estimated = ¥ 135 Trillion

Total Debt as Percentage of GDP = 71.20%

Total Interest paid on Debt by PBOC = ¥ 1.38 Trillion + ¥ 141 Billion = ¥ 1.49 Trillion

So as you can see – the State Agencies in China – in counties and prefectures owed around 31.36 Trillion Yuan of Debt

Of this the National Government and PBOC have brought 6 Trillion Yuan under their umbrella by buying out 6 Trillion Yuan of Local Debt and replacing it with National Debt on a 1:1 swap in November

So around ¥ 25.36 Trillion Yuan is held by State Agencies not backed by the PBOC which pay a collective interest of ¥ 827 Billion a year

Assuming this entire debt is defaulted and the PBOC will assume the debt , that’s still only ¥ 2.317 Trillion of Debt which is only 19% of Revenue and 9.6% of Expenditure

Corporate Debt of China & Institutional Debt = ¥ 218.49 Trillion

This is the debt owned by Chinese Companies to their Government and Banks and People

The Assets owned and controlled by then = ¥ 436 Trillion

Total Revenue generated by Corporate and Institutional China = ¥ 40.88 Trillion

So even today Asset to Debt Ratio for Corporations and Institutions in China is only 50%

By contrast it is 87% in Korea, 81.2% in Japan

Total Institutional and Corporate Debt = 5.344 Years Revenue

It’s very close to Japan (5.108 Years) and Korea (5.206 Years)

With such a strong position, the Chinese Government can easily pay its obligations.

Cool Mint Pinwheel Pie

Yield: 12 servings or 16 sample servings

Ingredients

1/2 (15 ounce) package refrigerated pie crust (one crust)
3 (1.5 ounce) bars milk chocolate
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 (12 ounce) container frozen whipped topping, thawed, divided
1/2 cup milk
1/2 teaspoon peppermint extract
Green food coloring (optional)
1 (3.3 ounce) box white chocolate instant pudding and pie filling

Instructions

Heat oven to 425 degrees F.
Place pie crust in Deep Dish Pie Plate, gently pressing dough into bottom and up sides; prick bottom using Hold ‘N Slice.
Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown. Cool completely on Nonstick Cooling Rack.
Break into small pieces and place in Small Micro-Cooker. Microwave, uncovered, on HIGH for 1 minute, stirring after each 10 second interval until chocolate is melted and smooth. Do not overheat. Spread half of the chocolate over bottom and sides of prepared crust; set aside.
Pour remaining chocolate onto Parchment Paper; immediately spread into a 6 inch circle using Skinny Scraper. Place Parchment on chilled Chillzanne Platter for 1 to 2 minutes, or until chocolate is firm and surface is dry to the touch. (Or, place chocolate on Cutting Board and refrigerate 15 minutes.) Do not allow chocolate to cool too long or it will crack when cut. Remove parchment from Platter and place on Cutting Board. Using Crinkle Cutter, cut chocolate circle into 12 even wedges but do not remove from parchment. Continue chilling on Platter until chocolate is set.
In Classic Batter Bowl, microwave cream cheese on HIGH for 30 seconds until softened; whisk until smooth using Stainless Steel Whisk.
Fill Easy Accent Decorator with 1 cup of the whipped topping; set aside for garnish. Add remaining whipped topping, milk, peppermint extract and food coloring to Batter Bowl; whisk until smooth. Add pudding mix and whisk vigorously until mixture is blended and very thick. Immediately spoon filling into crust; spread evenly using Large Spreader.
Pipe 12 rosettes around edge of pie. To remove chocolate from Parchment, slide Large Spreader between chocolate and Parchment, gently separating triangles. Place one triangle, with point toward center, against each rosette, forming a pinwheel pattern.
For a colder serving temperature and easier slicing, chill 30 minutes.
Serve using Slice ‘N Serve.

Nutrition

Per serving: Calories 320, Total Fat 20g, Saturated Fat 13g, Cholesterol 25mg, Carbohydrate 30g, Protein 3g, Sodium 250mg, Fiber 0g

Attribution

Posted by FootsieBear at Recipe Goldmine 6/15/01 2:42:17 pm.

Pampered Chef

Is there a plane that can be purchased on the open market that resembles a fighter jet?

Fighter jets don’t sell very well due to the fact that most have just one seat. The ones that have two seats are filled with so much weapons wizardry that a WIZO or Wepons Systems Officer (a non pilot) is needed to manage that aspect of the mission.

What you should be looking for are the trainer versions of these fighters that have two seats, so that the experience can be shared.

For example the most iconic collectable fighter, the P-51, comes rather inexpensively, unless it’s the “D” varrient that was fitted with a gun camera behind the pilot. That model is worth twice as much because the camera, if it is still there, can be removed, and the space converted to a second seat. If you find an airwworthy P51-D, expect to pay upwards of $1,000,000 for it.

On the lesser expensive side there are numerous foreign aircraft available from cash strapped countries that got them from the USA but for whatever reason the parts and support was cut off and they are languishing in the dessert somewhere.

Lastly, understand that the US generally does not dispose of any models that are still in use in order to preserve spare parts for the active fleet. For example just 40%of the A-10 s d

Ever built are airworthy at the moment. The rest are reposting at the Davis Monthan AFB in AZ ready to supply parts for those that are still flying.

~ Mike Heaton

Leftover Dreams: Materialism and Unrealistic Standards Among China’s Older Single Women

https://youtu.be/tTARmrwdNP0

All the Time in the World

Submitted into Contest #283 in response to: Write a story that ends with a huge twist.… view prompt

Patti Pierucci

By Patti A. Pierucci

(Author’s Note: The protagonist of this story, Dr. Anton Mellick,

also appears in the author’s full-length book The Hand of Maud.)

“There are really four dimensions, three which we call the three planes of Space,

and a fourth, Time.”

H.G. Wells, The Time Machine Mrs. Russell gave three quick taps on the door, then opened it and stuck her head in. “I’m leaving now, doctor. I left a pot of soup on the stove for you,” she said with a slight wave of her hand. “Good night; see you on Monday.”

“Alright, then. See you in the morning.” Anton Mellick—Ph.D., chairman of the Physics Department at Silverleaf Institute of Science, professor emeritus of physics at Mount Sterling University, and author of The Clockwork Chronicles: Black Holes, Wormholes, & The Space-Time Continuum—was standing in his office, a small room attached to the front of his expansive laboratory building, when Mrs. Russell, his housekeeper, poked her head in to say good night. He heard her footsteps clack-clacking outside on the pavement, then the car door opening and shutting, then the engine starting, then her car driving away.

Mellick had an ideal laboratory for his experiments. He had constructed a large, industrial-sized building behind his home. It took several months and contentious meetings with town officials to get a zoning variance and building permits to erect a structure this large, sixty feet square made of high-tensile steel and a flat, metal roof twenty feet high. There were no windows—to obstruct prying eyes.

It will be an eyesore, the neighbors had objected. A monstrosity, they told the town officials. So, in the interest of preserving neighborhood harmony—as well as his privacy—he agreed to construct a fence to shield the neighbors’ easily offended eyes from his lab. He had refused to back down on using steel in its construction, though. He needed the entire facility to be fireproof, just in case.

As soon as Mellick heard Mrs. Russell’s car driving away, he walked toward the door at the rear of his office, unlocked it—he always kept it locked—opened it, and stepped into his laboratory. In the center stood his Chrono Navigator. He had refused to call it a time machine; that was a name coined by H.G. Wells and used ad nauseum in movies and books ever since Wells’s book, The Time Machine, was first published in 1895. Mellick had almost called his time machine the Flux Capacitor as a wink-wink homage to the Back to the Future films but thought that would be too playful for so serious a machine.

The doctor considered The Time Machine to be a brilliant tale of time travel, an exciting story filled with action, romance, weighty significance, and a hopeful ending. But Wells’ description of how his time machine worked was utterly ridiculous—not that he blamed H.G. Wells, not in the least. Wells had conjured up a vivid description of his time machine. “I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again, put one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the saddle,” Wells wrote. “I took the starting lever in one hand …” Yes, Wells’s account of time travel was a spellbinding tale when it first landed in readers’ hands, yet no one actually believed in time travel. They didn’t know that time travel, at least in theory, was real. Wells, a scientist and visionary, didn’t know it, either. He had imagined the entire thing. It was science fiction back then, nothing more. Then, a mere decade later, comes Albert Einstein and his Theory of Relativity.

Mellick had devised a simplified, almost childlike, presentation to describe time travel to those who expressed interest. Few expressed interest, though. Most laughed at him, and he was the target of ridicule among the community of physicists he chaired at the university. Yes, he was the department head, and they answered to him, but they mocked him endlessly. “Glad to see you this morning,” commented one of the professors, Dr. Rudolph Whitaker, just the other day. “I expect one day you’ll just disappear into the future, and we’ll never see you again. Say, Anton, if you could somehow get a message to me about what stocks to pick, I’d be so grateful.” And then he had laughed, and his colleagues had laughed, and Mellick joined in, too—just to show he had a good sense of humor.

But it wasn’t funny. It was his life’s work. And it was real, he knew it.

Come to think of it, only children found his explanation believable. They had a fascination with what others called fantasy. So, on those occasions when Mellick was asked to speak to school children, he would explain it this way: As a person move faster through space, time slows down compared to a person who is not moving. If you could travel at speeds close to the speed of light, time would pass so much slower for you than for people on Earth, and you could travel into the future. Theoretically, of course. Then he would add a fact or two about wormholes. A wormhole, he would tell them, is a shortcut through space-time. Traveling through a wormhole could allow you to move even more quickly between two different times.

Of course, there’s a lot more to it than that, but why confuse their little brains? They only want to hear how exciting it could be to travel through time. “Could you go back to the year Hitler was born and kill him as a baby?” All the children ask this question. The moral dilemma of killing babies pre-emptively to prevent them from growing up to be killers never enters their ghoulish minds. But, he reminded himself, at least they listen to him and want to believe.

Now he stood before the Chrono Navigator. He didn’t want to waste time. With Mrs. Russell gone, he was on his own for the weekend and had the rare opportunity to experiment on himself as often as possible. He had failed dozens of times to move objects, including himself, even a few seconds back or forth in time. At first he had tried putting common things—first a stapler, then a toaster, then dozens of other insignificant objects, then finally himself—inside the chamber, setting the timer for minutes into the future. Then he tried to reverse it and go back in time by a few minutes.

All of them failed.

But for the past three years he had worked on refining the two laser lights on either side of the chamber. Previously, Mellick had constructed the lights to move in a straight line toward each other, filling the chamber with light. But when that didn’t work, he realized he needed the light to be moving, so he created circulating beams of laser light. The rotation of the light should twist space-time to make a loop of time. Theoretically.

Mellick looked at his machine and smiled. He was exhilarated. His heart beat faster, and his hands trembled as he placed protective glasses over his eyes. This would be the first time trying the Chrono Navigator since he had refined the laser lights. He would not put another household object into the machine; he was going in himself.

He stepped inside the chamber and flipped the switch to turn on the laser lights. They began to spin in a circular motion, creating loops that whirled around and around. The motion was smooth, almost hypnotic.

Next, he set the timer to go back in time three minutes. Three minutes ago, Mrs. Russell was driving away. The time on his clock, erected on the wall of the lab outside the Chrono Navigator’s chamber, read 5:07. Post meridiem.

Mellick then looked carefully at the three start buttons positioned in a triangular formation around the inside of the chamber, about waist high. All three had to be pushed within five seconds of each other for the Chrono Navigator to work, a failsafe against someone finding his machine and trying to travel through time. A failsafe in the event he, Mellick, changed his mind and wanted to abort the travel.

He took a deep breath and pushed the first button. More lights began to spin within the chamber. He turned to the next one and pushed it. Another beam of circulating light began to spin. He was getting dizzy.

Wait … he was getting dizzy! That had not happened before. It must be working!

Quickly, he hit the last button, and the chamber filled with spinning light. He felt another wave of dizziness, and his stomach lurched. His vision blurred, his balance faltered, and the queasiness intensified. He reached out his arms to brace himself, and finally, mercifully, the spinning stopped. He collapsed on the floor of the chamber, crouching like a dog, as he tried to gain control over the waves of nausea roiling through his gut.

Panting and sweating, Mellick noted that all the lights had stopped spinning. Slowly the sickness passed. Still on his knees, he opened the chamber door and looked up at the clock.

No! No! Not again! He had failed.

The clock appeared to have the same time as when he left, 5:07, though his vision was blurred, and his head was still spinning. The minute hand seemed to have a life of its own, swaying up and down until Mellick had to close his eyes.

Failed again. Failed.

A wave of frustration crashed over Mellick, as if the ground beneath him shifted. Disappointment, exhaustion, and self-doubt washed over him, drowning him in a wave of self-pity and confusion. What went wrong? What could possibly have gone wrong this time? Was it the circulating laser lights? He had worked for months to perfect them. Was it—

There was a knock on the door to his office. Three soft raps. Unsteadily, he stood up and walked to the door to his lab. He walked into the office, closing the lab door behind him and locking it. Then he glanced outside the office window and saw Mrs. Russell’s car parked in the driveway. She must have returned! Why? What brought her back? Had she seen something?

The door opened a crack and Mrs. Russell said, “I’m leaving now, doctor. I left a pot of soup on the stove for you. Good night; see you on Monday.” She gave a little wave of her hand and closed the door.

I gossiped about his job, his retaliation taught me a harsh lesson

So many lessons in this story.

https://youtu.be/Ruc2AqTA0gI

Allergies to pine forests and tropical islands

I loved living in Hattiesburg, Mississippi.

It was awesome.

So cozy and rural.

It was this little quaint town and surrounded by pine forests.

Huge pine forests, by the way.

And when they were a flowering, the air was thick with pine. The sky had a yellow haze and was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

And you know what?

Yeah, I discovered that I was allergic to all of the pine!

No kidding.

So I spent a few months sniffling and constantly rubbing my eyes.

But soon after I made that discovery, I was laid off, and forced to move to the swamps of Louisiana.

Beautiful. Truly.

Ah. The entire South of the United States is really nice.

Charming.

Oh, but I love the nature.

Don’t you know.

And while they were indeed “stinky” places, I wasn’t allergic to them.

Nope.

And so my life was free of the coughing and sneezing and watery eyes of an allergy.

That is, of course, until we went and visited Fiji.

Fiji.

Beautiful place.

Like this…

Well…yeah, we went there just as the flowers were blooming, and they were so delicious and fragrant.

And I was allergic to them all.

But it was so darn uncomfortable for me. I spent our entire time there in misery. It was nasty.

Some surprise huh?

But today, as far as I know, I’m not allergic to anything in China (so far).

Knock on wood. Heh Heh.

Today…

First Photo of Site Hit By Russian “Oreshnik” Missile – Complete devastation!

Hal Turner World January 06, 2025 Hits: 4167

Back in November, Russia struck Ukraine with a single Intermediate Range Ballistic Missile, which they named “Oreshnik.” The missile had Multiple Independent Re-Entry Vehicles (MIRV) totaling six (6) warheads.

Video of the strike was widely circulated worldwide and it is utterly shocking:

Six separate batches of projectiles comes out of the sky so fast, no missile defense system on the planet could intercept them

What was most stunning about this strike is that the six warheads released multiple “Bomblets” before they impacted. That’s why there are six, separate “showers” of fire from the sky . . . the bomblets came down ahead of the warheads which carried them, and those bomblets and warheads were moving so fast, they generated enough heat to look like fire coming from the sky.

Ukraine was ruthless in their censorship of any photos or videos of the strike location. They arrested anyone trying to take pictures or videos, and seized any equipment that may have contained such images.

All that ends right now.

Partisans in Dnepropetrovsk released this photograph of a man standing at the bottom of a crater on the site where the Soviet-built Yuzhmash military plant formerly stood. It was the plant hit by Russia’s Oreshnik missile. ONE missile.

Russia’s hypersonic Oreshnik missile vaporized the surface structures and penetrated to a depth of several stories underground, destroying the tunnel complex beneath the plant.

The most stunning fact: The warheads and bomblets carried NO EXPLOSIVE CHARGES! ! ! ! What you see here, was done solely and exclusively by the kinetic energy of the hypersonic projectiles coming out of the sky.

The kinetic energy – the shear force of the weight of the projectiles – traveling at over 6,000 miles an hour at impact, utterly obliterated the factory. You can see for yourself, above! There’s nothing left.

Imagine if they loaded explosives into those missiles?

Worst of all, there is NO DEFENSE for such missiles. No anti-missile system anywhere on this planet can intercept them and no anti-missile system can stop them.

Why do fighter jets need drag parachutes when they land? Do they land at a higher speed than airliners?

Let us just compare the typical landing speeds;

Boeing 737: 155 knots for a normal configuration.

Mirage 2000: 150 knots for 15% fuel and normal configuration.

[1]

The configuration of an aircraft also determines its landing speed. Fuel left, payload, position of flaps, wind velocity and other factors affect the landing speed.

Now, the speeds are almost comparable for a fighter and an airliner unless in extreme cases like the MiG 21.

[2]

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There are 4 main reasons a fighter needs a drag parachute:

Runways in operational areas are usually shorter and the surface is rugged. To save the brakes from wear & tear, and to increase the life of tires.
The weather conditions are generally hostile in operational bases. Too much heat or cold can affect the braking systems as well.
Commercial airliners primarily have reverse thrusters to help them decelerate whereas fighter aircrafts do not.

Primarily you will see chutes being deployed in harsh conditions and on shorter runways.

China Sanctions US Again and False Flag South Korean Coup

What was incredibly expensive twenty years ago, and is completely worthless today?

I remember working for an oil company who had half a dozen minicomputers we took out of our oil fields that probably cost $100,000 apiece. They were 10 years old and we tried to give them to universities. They refused to accept them even if we paid them to take them.

I tried to explain it to management: It is Moore’s Law: The power of a computer is doubling every 18 months. The product cycle is about 3 years. After 3 years, the manufacturer brings out a new one that is four times as powerful, its replacement comes out after 6 years, and it is 16 times as powerful, and the next generation comes out after 9 years and it is 256 times as powerful. Your $100,000 computer is now worth 256 times less, or about $390. And, in fact, you can replace it with a $390 microcomputer.

However, the universities will not accept it because it takes up too much space, draws too much power for their buildings, needs extra air conditioning, and costs too much in electricity, so now it has a negative net worth. Our lab techs said they could use the mounting frames and the power supplies for their test rigs, but we might as well throw the rest of the equipment away.

In my first IT job I operated a multimillion dollar supercomputer that took up half a floor. It required two gas turbine generator units on the roof to power it and two massive air conditioners to cool it. Nowadays the average smart watch has more computing power and is more useful to have.

The 3 Year AI Reset: How To Get Ahead While Others Lose Their Jobs (Prepare Now) | Emad Mostaque

US is land of opportunities where hard work can lead one to become a millionaire. Unlike China the US attracts people worldwide as they believe it offers better earning prospects and many prefer countries in Middle East or Europe but not China why?

I am best qualified to answer this question

I have two sons

My elder son who goes by Karthik Bala loves the West because he can make money in those “free markets” and in his own words he would rather “lose his shirt” in a reckless calculated risk where he can make millions than to have a controlled system which is safe for the common man like China has

That is the lure of the USA and the Middle East

It’s perfect for those who want to be investment bankers and investors who want to handle money in tax havens

My younger son is in China because he wants to do unfettered research with excellent funding prospects where he has access to many peer publications coming out every day and new developments happening at frentic pace

He wants a safe country

He wants a non woke country

He wants a country where he doesn’t have to plead and wheedle a bunch of donors for research money and where the state cuts a cheque without a single question and hands over a five year bank guarantee for research funds rather than year on year meetings

So China is perfect for those who want to research and develop technology. It is the world’s fastest growing science and technology hub

They are both happy in their own ways

Exactly as those who migrate to West or East usually are

Only people like me who are stuck in India have to put up with the endless discussions on Waqf boards and Temples and Vedic supremacy day in and day out

House | Top 8 Intense House Medical Scenes

Why don’t most developed countries use technicals if they are so effective?

So you want a fast vehicle that carries 3–4 people, has off-road capability and is used for direct fire support? And you want it to actually be effective, rather than just a $30,000 coffin on wheels?

Lets run a simple thought experiment:

Why not add some armour plates and mine resistance so that it isn’t just a bungled toyota pickup truck with a clumsy .50 BMG machine gun? Most militaries would kill the thing and its crew quite easily with just small arms fire, not even RPGs. If you want to use it for patrols in conflict zones, why not make it ambush proof as well:

Result is an MRAP that costs $500,000. That is now 17 times the original cost.

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Why not give it a more powerful gun that can fire explosive shells or even missiles out of its barrel? This would surely make it more lethal as fire support! The gun will have a very long range of several kilometres and we will need a specialized computer to guide the gunner.

We might have to change the chasis completely and make it much heavier to support the recoil of the big gun. To compensate for this without getting stuck in the mud, lets replace wheels with tracks to increase surface area and decrease pressure. To ensure mobility and speed, we need to change the engine completely and rework almost everything.

Our enemies would design something similar to counter ours, so we need even thicker armor and a set of optics/sensors. And of course, we need different protected compartments for ammo, engine, people plus blowout panels so the crew doesnt burn to death when the armour is penetrated by enemy warheads.

The result is…a main battle tank, starting at $10,660,000** for the most basic M1A1 Abrams. This is now 355 times the original cost of the machine gun on a toyota truck.

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Well well well, seems like when your prioritise things like crew survivability, firepower and practical range, you will need additional features and cannot afford to cut cost. You get what you pay for. Now the question we should ask is: why the hell would anyone who use a flimsy “technical” when they can afford better?

Hawaiian Meatballs

Yield: 10 meatballs

Ingredients

2 (8 ounce) cans pineapple chunks in juice, undrained
1/2 cup red or green bell pepper (or a combination of both)
1 teaspoon ginger
1 pound ground fresh turkey (or ground beef)
1/2 cup green onion slices
1/2 cup plain dry bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup teriyaki sauce

Instructions

Heat oven to 400 degrees F.
Drain pineapple. reserving juice; set aside.
Using Food Chopper, finely chop bell peppers.
In Classic 2 quart Batter Bowl, combine 1/4 cup of pineapple juice, pepper, ginger, turkey, onion, bread crumbs and salt; mix gently but thoroughly. Using small Stainless Steel Scoop, shape meat mixture into balls; place in Deep Dish Baker. Pour teriyaki sauce over meatballs; mix lightly to coat meatballs evenly.
Bake for 30 minutes.
Place 1 piece of pineapple on each party pick. Add meatball and serve.

Nutrition

Per 2 meatballs: approximately 80 calories and 3g fat

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Night Music

Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Write about a character unknowingly experiencing a “sliding doors” moment. Write your story in two halves; what could have been, and what actually happened.… view prompt

Michał Przywara

This story contains sensitive content

TW: violence, sexual violence, suicide.

Tyler stands at the edge of the roof and stares into the alley far below, as the cold night wind ruffles his t-shirt. And he remembers the last chat he had with Matt, and he hears the refrain to his life’s theme song crescendo in his mind: Oh how quickly things can change. His worn boots scrape another inch over the ledge. When the wind suddenly dies down, the silence brings with it a different song, a warm song, words felt and not heard.

What if?

What if he took a step back, right now? What if he turned around, went back down the stairs? What if he just left this apartment altogether?

What if he’d just go home right now?

He will catch a late night bus. Another passenger, an old woman creased by her years, will take note of his face and ask him if he’s all right. He’ll tell her yeah – the familiar lie.

Later at home he’ll talk with Amber, and he’ll tell her everything. Everything he’s able to. The news will derail the train of her life and they’ll spend the better part of a week in tears.

But they’ll heal, together. They’ll grow closer than either ever thought possible. Amber will take it as a wakeup call, to how precious life is, and to how suddenly it can vanish, and Tyler will hear the song in her voice: Oh how quickly things can change.

They’ll make love. Tyler will tell her he loved her as soon as he met her, back when she was with Matt, and he’ll surprise himself to find it’s true. Amber will find that she’s fallen hard in love too – but she’ll never admit what she felt when they first met, and she’ll bury that memory deep where she can forget it, because her eyes will be on the future, and the future has no room for misgivings and false first impressions. After all, Matt trusted Tyler, and that’ll be good enough for her.

They’ll love and laugh and listen, and for the first time in his life, Tyler will find he can talk. He’ll open up hard enough to break, but Amber’s hand will be gentle. He’ll talk about growing up wanting – food, money, opportunity, a father. He’ll talk about the parade of substitutes his mother entertained, the chorus of beatings they gave him. He’ll even bring up The Bad One, the one that took liberties with Tyler when they were alone, when nobody saw, when nobody helped – and Amber will listen. Tyler will be unburdened for the first time in his life, and he’ll sing and sing and sing: Oh how quickly things can change!

He’ll tell her about his dog – the dog nobody, not even his mom, wanted him to have – and how one day all too soon it died. He’ll omit the details of the death, because it won’t be about the details. It’ll be about having a dog, and then not having one. And together, they’ll sing a new song, a song of loss and of finding.

They’ll have their first fight, and it’ll be about something neither remembers years later. Tyler will feel angry, but not like he’s been angry before. Not anger from a sense of betrayal or injustice or disrespect. Anger because he cares. Good, clean, honest anger. Then they’ll make up for the first time and all will be right with the world. And he’ll hear the chorus again: Oh how quickly things can change!

First, Amber will become pregnant. Then, Tyler will surprise himself once more when he proposes. She’ll say yes and they’ll set a date. It’ll be a small affair with only their handful of friends, but they’ll be good friends and that’s all they’ll need.

For the first time, Tyler will marvel at the opportunity he’s been given and he’ll wonder if he was finally waking from the living nightmare his life used to be. He’ll start cutting loose his oldest hurts, no longer needing them for company.

Amber will give birth to a son, Mason. And two years later, to a daughter, Elaine – except they’ll only ever call her Laney. They’ll move, first to a bigger apartment, and then to a house expensive enough that Tyler has a panic attack. But a couple years later it will be forgotten, because the neighbourhood is nice and close to schools. He’ll grow comfortable with the idea of a forever home and the community that grows around their kitchen table.

One day Amber will ask Tyler if he remembers Matt, and Tyler will hug her. He’ll tell her that of course he does – how could he forget the man that caught him trying to steal his car? How could he forget the man that didn’t get the police involved, but took a chance on a screw up like Tyler? A man that pulled him out of a terrible life and set him straight? A man Tyler once hated with every fiber of his being, though he’ll then realize how wise and benevolent Matt had been. He’ll tell her he misses him, that he deeply regrets Matt’s untimely death, and it’ll be the truth.

Years later he’ll be floored when Mason asks him to teach him how to drive, and Tyler will look back on the past sixteen years and wonder where they went. Oh how quickly things can change. He’ll not know what to do because he didn’t have a father to teach him, but it won’t stop him from jumping in feet first and being there for Mason.

A couple months later Mason will get his licence. A week after that, he’ll total the car, drunk on cheap beer. Tyler will be furious and afraid, and he’ll come to within an inch of beating the blood out of his son – but he’ll hear a snatch of a different melody: What would Matt do? And Tyler will go on a long walk. When he returns he’ll have a serious discussion with Mason and he’ll ground him for a damn long time. But he’ll never raise his hand to the boy.

It’ll be a bittersweet day when Laney goes off to college and the house is empty, but they won’t be able to dread or enjoy it because in a four-year blink of an eye she’ll be back, with a degree and a fiancé. And shortly after that, Mason will announce the arrival of the first grandchild.

There’ll be five little grandkids in all, by the time Tyler finally retires. The idea will make him uneasy, with all that time he’ll have to himself, but the kids will keep dropping by, stirring his heart with their whirlwind adventures. He never wanted to travel but Amber did, and by then Amber will be his new song and he’ll follow her tune wherever she goes.

They’ll see beaches, they’ll see whales. They’ll visit the Great Pyramid of Giza and Chichén Itzá. He’ll discover he likes traveling after all, while in good company. While on safari, Amber will discover a lump. Oh how quickly things can change…

The funeral will be just four months later. It’ll wreck Tyler, for a while. Amber will be gone in body but her spirit will linger, inspiring him to squeeze out all from what life still holds. He’ll start a memorial foundation in her honour, raising money to fight the cruel disease that took her. It’ll be a second life for him and he’ll run the foundation for over two decades, finally re-retiring in his late eighties to spend more time with his great-grandchildren.

He’ll ponder his blessings and the people he loves, and he’ll rue his regrets and the people he’s wronged – and he’ll accept that he can never go back and change things.

And one day he’ll feel at peace, and he’ll know his time has come. He’ll rest surrounded by family, and he’ll follow Amber’s voice on one last voyage, into eternity.

But.

But.

Tyler lingers at the edge of the roof. He knows he should leave, but he can’t. His heart is hammering, and he slides another inch forward.

He can’t help looking.

It’s just like the dog, all over again.

All he wanted to do was look at the dog, to study it, to see how it reacted. To pain. To a hammer. Just to teach it a lesson not to bark at him, not to snap at him. To teach it what happens when someone disrespects him.

And it sang such a beautiful song as he broke it. Well worth the beatings he endured, and his mother’s tears.

In the alley far below him, Tyler sees Matt’s crumpled form. Matt didn’t sing, but Tyler is sure he learned his lesson. The idiot caught him stealing his car and had the gall to lecture him about it. To disrespect him. Serves him right.

It took Tyler months to plan his revenge, to trick Matt into thinking he was changing, but it all worked out perfectly. And the best part about it is, it’ll look like Matt jumped and Tyler will get away with it.

Except, Tyler lingers. Not long but long enough. To see his prize, to witness what happens to those who disrespect him. Someone sees something, someone hears something, and a number is dialed. Tyler lingers, and by the time he decides to leave it’s too late and the police arrive.

The jury doesn’t buy his lies and he’s found guilty of murder.

Oh how quickly things can change.

8 Charts That Will Change The Way You See Dating

Are there any sorts of recipes that can only be made in a pressure cooker?

Using a pressure cooker to make beef stew is undoubtedly a smart choice. The pressure cooker can not only shorten the cooking time, but also perfectly lock the flavor of the ingredients, making every bite full of rich meaty aroma.😁

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First of all, the cooking principle of the pressure cooker makes the beef become crispy and tender in a short time. Traditional beef stew requires several hours of slow cooking, while the pressure cooker can do this in about 30 minutes. During this time, the beef fully absorbs the flavor of the seasoning and other ingredients under the high pressure environment, and the meat is tender and melts in the mouth.

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Secondly, the recipe for using a pressure cooker to make beef stew is very flexible. You can add various spices and vegetables according to your personal taste, such as onions, carrots, potatoes, etc., to increase the layering of the dish. Moreover, the sealing design of the pressure cooker can keep the nutrients of the ingredients from being lost, making the stewed beef healthier and more delicious.

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Moreover, the cleaning work is also very convenient. Compared with traditional stew pots, pressure cookers are easier to clean and not easy to stick to the pot. Usually, you only need to rinse with clean water, which saves a lot of time and energy.

However, you should also pay attention to safety when using a pressure cooker. Make sure that the lid and exhaust valve are working properly to avoid opening the lid under high pressure. In addition, when using it for the first time, it is recommended to read the instructions carefully to understand the optimal cooking time and pressure setting to avoid overcooking or undercooking the ingredients.

The 8 AI Skills That Will Separate Winners From Losers in 2025

As a Chinese, did you become anti CPC, pro-democratic, and USA fan after accessing websites and social media platforms which are blocked in China?

Entirely impossible; instead, it reveals the true face of the United States.

Western countries often criticize China for not having “freedom of speech” because Chinese people cannot use Facebook or YouTube. Ironically, when the U.S. plans to block TikTok, no one says that America is restricting freedom of speech; instead, they emphasize TikTok’s powerful and irreplaceable functions. Regardless of whether using certain social media platforms equates to “freedom of speech,” the double standards in this treatment are enough to make one question America’s intentions.

Consider the situation where the U.S. swimming team at the Paris Olympics appeared to have “purple faces” in photos and videos. Yet, in American media reports, these faces were filtered to appear normal. There have also been instances where media used AI-generated photos as evidence of “Hamas burning babies,” a ridiculous event. Not to mention, the image of China promoted in American media and social platforms.

Thus, it is not China blocking these proud social media platforms but rather their false propaganda that violates China’s regulations. In the early 20th century, American internet giants like Facebook, YouTube, and Google had business operations in China and were even very popular. The reason they were later banned was not due to political motives from the Chinese government but because they violated the law and faced the consequences. Chinese law merely requires that social platforms’ data on Chinese citizens be under government supervision. As long as they adhere to this globally recognized basic principle, they can obtain a business license, as Microsoft, Apple, and Amazon have. Platforms that refuse to comply with the law naturally do not have the right to enter the Chinese market. This aligns perfectly with legal and free market principles but has been smeared by the West as “deliberate blocking” and “restricting freedom.” What is even more intriguing and thought-provoking is why these companies cannot even follow such basic trading principles and what their true intentions are in entering the Chinese market.

Let’s see what kind of content is on these platforms. From personal accounts to media outlets like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, the tone of tweets about China on social media is often critical and oppositional. This includes issues related to Hong Kong, Xinjiang, China-U.S. relations, and various “China threat” theories. Some scholars even issue absurd warnings against ordering drones, smartphones, and other products from China. Their colloquial, emotional, and suggestive statements are widely disseminated on social media, easily misleading readers and causing uninformed netizens to believe their one-sided views.

Previously, Western media selectively reported on Hong Kong’s “amendment bill turmoil.” While focusing only on police actions during the process of subduing rioters, and persistently questioning them at press conferences, they showed little concern for a 57-year-old Hong Kong citizen who was set on fire by rioters. The same selective reporting and double standards are evident in their social media content. Years ago, during the terrorist attacks in Xinjiang, terrorists used social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter to plan their attacks, which eventually resulted in over 1,700 deaths, including 197 deaths of innocent people. Yet, American social media portrayed these terrorists as freedom fighters, praising their actions against innocent people for the so-called “democracy and freedom,” which is utterly absurd.

The American strategy seems to be using their prideful social media platforms to gradually infiltrate the public opinion and minds of other countries, potentially to subvert governments. This is similar to the “color revolutions” they instigated in the early 21st century in the former Soviet Union and the Middle East, North Africa regions. Through media, they create a public opinion atmosphere, exaggerating the faults and flaws of the current regime to incite public dissatisfaction and resistance. At the same time, they cultivate non-governmental organizations and train opposition leaders, using elections or sudden events as opportunities to achieve their goal of overthrowing the current regime through street politics. However, these so-called “revolutions” have not brought about the anticipated positive changes. Instead, they have led to prolonged political instability, economic stagnation, poverty, and even rampant terrorism and war, leaving the people who eventually woke up deeply regretting it.

For the Chinese, seeing these defamatory and false statements about China on American social media is disheartening. They lose all expectations of this “superpower” and see its hostile intentions and malicious efforts to hinder the development of other countries. The notion of “support” is pure fantasy. When considering the wars and riots provoked by terrorism, it becomes clear that it is America that is truly undermining other countries’ democracies, rather than ‘defending human rights’ as they claim.

Shorpy

What ceremonial traditions do Mongolians practice with their horses?

Mongolians take great care in horse riding. Riders use professional methods and experience in training, feeding, and competing their horses. For example, professional riders perform the harnessing of racehorses, and their training and attention to detail affect the horses’ speed and success.

Mongolians pay great attention to naming their horses. Names reflect the horse’s temperament, speed, and personality. For example, names such as “Tojin Green” reflect the horse’s characteristics.

Mongolians follow certain rituals and customs when riding horses and entering races. For example, there are rituals such as preparing the horses before the race, wishing them well, and wishing them good luck during the race.

Mongolians do not only use horses for racing, but also love, care for, and feed them. They pray for the well-being of horses and perform rituals for them.

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“Took a Secret Trip to See ‘My Friend’ — My Husband Found Out and Left Me”

Married girl fucks up.

Are there any sorts of recipes that can only be made in a pressure cooker?

Absolutely, and they have saved a lot of lives in the process.

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Water boils at 100ºC, at 1 ATM (101 kPa)

This means liquid water cannot be get hotter than 100ºC, which in turn means that food itself cannot get hotter than 100º. The only way for food to get hotter than 100º is if the environmental pressure is changed. Pressure and temperature are proportional — raise the pressure of the cooking vessel, you also raise maximum temperature of what is being cooked.

Why is this important? Pathogens.

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“Compressed Cooked”

With meat and other low-acid foods, boiling water alone is not enough to can them safely — the spores left behind are still viable at 100ºC, and can thrive in the anaerobic environment. It’s those spores that contain the neurotoxins.

Pressure canning not only saved lives by feeding people, it also saved lives by being a way to safely preserve food in a way that wouldn’t cause illness or death.

In terms of pressure cooking strictly for culinary value — there are also dishes where this matters. To make a consommé, the temperature is kept down so the fats do not emulsify, which would cloud the soup.

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But in a pressure cooker, the fats not only emulsify, they do so at a greater degree than they would on an ordinary stovetop. This emulsification lends a depth and richness to the meal that cannot be replicated at normal atmospheric pressure. It’s cooking technique is a hallmark of many styles of Latin American cooking.

Carne Mechada (shredded beef, Venezuela)

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Cine de Res (beef dinner, Mexico and US)

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Medallions de Carne (Argentina)

The Deepseek question

Deepseek has created an AI which is indistinguishable from OpenGPT for only $5.5M in hardware. The system has been trained on OpenGPT output.

This raises a very interesting question. Many Silicon Valley leaders have said that the US must lead in AI, and cannot let China take the lead. This has been used to justify the raising of billions from investors.

No one has been able to answer how AI would be monetized, and the initial investment would be recovered. Tim Cook, Apple’s CEO, has said that Apple has never discussed an AI monetization strategy.

So how are all the investors in AI in the US going to get their money back? Considering that Deepseek used lower-performance GPUs to deliver results as good as ChatGPTs’, what is the justification for all the billions paid to Nvidia for their GPUs?

Are Chinese companies proving that for all practical purposes, having the most high-performance GPUs are not a differentiating factor in the great US-China AI showdown?

Something to think about in 2025…

Trump WARNS Of US Economic DEPRESSION In 2025

What is a simple example of money laundering?

The simplest way is like this.

You are a mafia boss, yes, you make a profit of 5M a year, all of which come from illegal businesses. Wash it by opening a service or shop that does business using cash. Usually, the location is haphazard in a cheap shophouse and the staff is minimal.

For example like this: (just an example)

Even though in the real world only 5 people come a day, but so that the dirty money can be cleaned up, you write in the accounting system that the customers reach 100 people a day. So that 5M from the illegal business turns into 5M from the barbershop franchise

If the accountant is good, he can create a reasonable paper trail so that it does not attract the attention of tax authorities. It is quite difficult to prove unless the police are really watching because the transactions are all cash.

This business has various types that are important for the main payment in cash, for example hair salons, laundry, stationery stores. Even Pablo Escobar had a fake taxi company.

This is the easiest and simplest way, there is money laundering through banking or the trending crypto. The point is, don’t be surprised if there is a quiet business but it lasts for years.

Parmesan Turkey and Rice Bake

Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients

2 cups chopped cooked turkey or chicken
2 cups chopped celery
1 cup mayonnaise
1 cup cooked rice
1/2 cup (2 ounces) shredded Parmesan cheese
2 tablespoons finely chopped onion
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup slivered almonds

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
In large bowl, combine turkey, celery, mayonnaise, rice, cheese, onion, lemon juice and salt. Spoon mixture into greased 9 inch square baking pan. Top with almonds.
Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until heated through.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Multiple U.S. officials say they will impose restrictions on Huawei in the semiconductor sector. Can they really restrict the already powerful Huawei?

It’s very tough

Huawei has an Independent Supply Chain for most of the licensed technologies that are US or Western owned

Other stuff which have western technology are commercially available and impossible to prevent huawei from acquiring

It’s like Pepsodent Tooth Paste

Pepsodent Tooth Paste has its own proprietary technology owned by Unilever & the Sheffield Trust

Micro Polishing Particles
Enamel Shield Technology
Foamboost Technology
Desensitization formula
Fluoride compound formula
APS process and formula

However Pepsodent is a commercial product sold in over 5 million supermarkets worldwide

Can the UK government order Unilever to prevent Pepsodent sales to Aravind Varrier or myself?

We can always buy from some supermarket or we can always buy other brands like Colgate

That’s how it is

The most critical parts are already long ago out of Huawei’s supply chain

My guess is they stockpiled a lot of the commercial parts and continue to have easy access as they can buy it through more than 50,000 third parties around the world

From now on its near impossible to hurt Huawei with tech bans

When Men Say NO to Being the Backup Plan

The Bullet that Esther Stopped

Delbert Griffith

I shot papa square in the heart but he didn’t die. That damn bible he carried with him saved his life. I was considerable lucky that papa had his axe at hand, and that he kept it sharp. I picked it up. It was a heavy thing, so I swung with all my might and put it right through his head. Seein’ his brains made me throw up. I moved away so it wouldn’t get on papa. That would be disrespectful.

Papa was a big man. I couldn’t bury him like that, so I started choppin’ off his arms and legs with the axe. I was down to the right leg when Sheriff Culverson showed up. Wouldn’t you know it, he came to arrest papa for stealin’ a couple of old lady Renner’s chickens. Papa didn’t have to worry about that now. Hell, he didn’t have to worry about the drought or where his next bottle’d come from, either. I reckon I did him a favor, savin’ him from all that worry.

Sheriff Culverson looked at me and looked at papa. I done threw up again, so the smell was somethin’ turrible in the vicinity. I looked at the sheriff. He was a shakin’ his head and had a sad look on his face. I reckon he didn’t want to take a nineteen-year-old girl to jail. ‘specially me, seein’ as how I was his daughter’s best friend. Maybe he’ll let Cassie visit me in jail.

The jailhouse only had the one cell. That door a clankin’ behind me sounded like what mama would call omnus. I kinda know what that means by the words around it. Corntex, I think they call it. I would know a lot more if papa would’ve let me go to school. He said girls don’t need school. They need to learn how to cook and to clean and to please their man. I’m damn good at cookin’ and cleanin’, but I don’t think I know how to please a man. Papa was a man and he was never pleased.

Oh Lord! Here comes the sheriff and another man. I seen him around. Mr. King. He’s always all duded up and talkin’ fancy and smilin’ and a swingin’ his walkin’ stick around. I sure would like to catch me a man like that. I bet he don’t beat his women. Not much, anyway.

He ain’t smilin’ now. I reckon I’m in a heap of trouble. Welp, papa won’t be slappin’ the tar outta me for my sins this time.

**************

Both men sat across the table from Esther. The sheriff had placed the gun that Esther had shot her dad with, next to the bible that had thwarted Esther’s original plan. The metal gleamed in the harsh light of the room, sitting as silently as the three occupants. The ceiling fan squeaked quietly, not doing a very good job of cooling off the room. The open window allowed the sunlight to stream through, and a soft breeze brought a little relief from the heat, along with the scent of jasmine and dust. The harsh, unforgiving angles that the sun cast in the room matched Esther’s mood.

Esther reached for the wounded bible. She wanted to feel the torn cover and open it up to inspect the damage. The sheriff pulled it towards him and opened it up before sliding it to Esther. The soft sigh of the bible moving across the table sounded like the whisper of broken dreams.

“Notice anything?” The sheriff leaned back and watched Esther closely.

Esther inspected the bible. The bullet had torn through a significant portion of the Old Testament. It had stopped at the Book of Esther.

“Yessir. Esther stopped the bullet, I reckon.”

Mr. King smiled, though he didn’t want to. The sheriff nodded his head and leaned forward.

“Don’t you find that a little odd?”

Esther shook her head.

“That’s your name, young lady,” Mr. King spoke. His rich, resonant voice filled the room. Dust motes danced and the breeze quickened.

“Yessir.”

The men looked at each other impassively, but both were thinking the same thing. The girl was thickheaded.

Mr. King pointed to Esther’s face.

“Your dad do that?”

Her black eye and a swollen nose did all the testifying for her.

“Yessir. Told me I shoulda caught a man by now, and he warn’t gonna feed no old maid much longer.”

“He been drinkin’?” Sheriff Culverson leaned back, crossing his arms. He already knew the answer.

“Yessir. Mama always says that papa only drinks on days endin’ with a ‘y.’ I reckon that’s true.” Esther played with her hair, twirling it between two fingers. She looked away from the men and gazed outside, lost in her own thoughts.

“So you decided to shoot ‘im.”

“Yessir.”

“But the bible stopped the bullet.”

“Yessir.”

Mr. Kind leaned forward and stared at Esther, causing her to blush.

“That was when you decided to take the axe to his head?”

Esther stopped playing with her hair and sat still for a moment before answering.

“I suppose so. Papa woulda kilt me if I didn’t kill him.”

“You feared for your life?” Mr. King continued to stare intently at Esther.

“Yessir.”

Mr. King abruptly stood up and shook the sheriff’s hand.

“I have all I need.”

He left quickly, so quickly that it startled Esther. She looked at the retreating back and worried that she had offended such a gentleman.

“Am I gonna get the Chair?”

The sheriff stood slowly, as if it hurt him to do so. He closed his eyes for a moment before answering. His voice, when he spoke, was softer than Esther had ever heard it.

“No. You’ll get twenty-five years in the women’s prison in San Antone. Minimum.”

Esther started counting on her fingers.

“You’ll be about forty-four, Esther.”

“Damn. I reckon I’ll be too old to catch a man by that time.”

The sheriff felt his chest tighten just a little at those words.

“And mama? How old’ll she be?”

“How old is she now?”

Esther paused, deep in thought.

“Says she was born in 1901.”

“Then she’ll be about sixty.”

Esther nodded, standing, and smoothing out her skirt.

“Reckon she’ll take me back when I get out?”

The sheriff scratched his forehead and looked at the floor.

“I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.”

**************

They’re calling us heroes. The newspapers, that is. I suppose we are, but I don’t know that I feel heroic. I do, however, feel a difference in me now that papa’s dead. Liberation would be the word. Papa would have hit me if I had ever used that word in front of him.

Papa had been drinking, of course. And smacking mama around. Cassie and I were hiding out in my room, wondering when it would all stop. At one point, I heard mama scream. That’s when I went out to investigate.

Papa was pointing a gun at mama. I didn’t even think about what to do. I just did it. I stepped in front of mama just as papa shot. The bullet hit my bible. Yes, I carried a bible with me, right over my heart, but only when I was wearing overalls. It was fortunate that I was wearing them at this point.

I staggered backward and fell. The impact of the bullet stunned me. Mama fell as well, trying to hold me up. That’s when Cassie came charging out of the room and started to wrestle with papa, trying to get the gun out of his hand. We heard another shot. Papa took a bullet to the gut. He died two hours later, in a lot of pain.

Cassie stood and fairly sprinted out of the house. She came back a few minutes later with her dad. The sheriff. The look on his face was one that will not soon leave me. Pinched and drawn, with worry written clearly in the eyes.

Mama should have never been home. She was supposed to go to San Antonio to see her sister, but papa beat her so bad the night before that she refused to go. I believe that papa beat her so severely so she wouldn’t go. He was like that.

Cassie shouldn’t have been there either. Her father told her never to go to my house when my papa was around, but Cassie often defied her father. Her father was so relieved that Cassie wasn’t injured or killed that he never punished her. On the contrary, he hugged her tightly and kissed her on the cheek. I had never seen him do that before!

I’m supposed to write a story for the newspapers. The one in San Antonio wants to give me – and Cassie – fifty dollars each for our story. An astounding sum. Some rich people in San Antonio also want to give us full scholarships for college. Imagine! Going to college! It’s in Denton, but that’s even better. Cassie and I can get away from the blight of the Hill Country and experience a different kind of life.

A different kind of life. I’m filled with a substantial happiness, and I wonder when it will leave. Never, I hope.

The real hero is mama, and I’ll make sure the newspapers know that. All those years of insisting that I go to school, even when papa beat her for her sass. He called it that, anyway. It was grit and toughness and love. I’ll call it the stuff that heroism is made of. That has a nice ring to it. And it’s the truth.

**************

All three steps to the elevated porch squeaked under Mr. King’s tread, though the man was not heavy. Like the rest of the porch area, they needed paint; rusted nail heads poked out of the wood, loosened by years of neglect and Hill Country weather. The evening was soon to turn into dusk.

“Just spoke to the judge. Cassie ain’t to be charged. He said she did us all a favor by shootin’ that man.”

Sheriff Culverson didn’t show it, but a wave of relief flooded his body. He relaxed a little and felt his breath coming easier. Mr. King sat down and lit a cigar, offering one to the sheriff. Both men took some time to light their cigars, ensuring that they had a proper draw. This was not a task but a ritual, and it was not to be taken lightly.

The sheriff went inside his house and returned in a few moments, bearing a bottle of whiskey and two small tumblers. Each man filled their glass to the amount desired and sipped. Mr. King grimaced at the first sip, then took a second, larger sip.

“I reckon she did us all a favor, sure, but it was an accident. I’m damn happy the judge was of the same mind,” the sheriff said. He took another sip of whiskey and sat his glass down, concentrating on puffing his cigar and enjoying the news.

“You know, I’m surprised one of those women hadn’t killed the man before. He sure liked to beat his women,” Mr. King said.

“The mama,” the sheriff said. Mr. King turned his head slightly.

“Pardon?”

“The mama. She made that girl, Esther, get an education. I hear she took a beatin’ or two for her daughter. Damn fine woman, in my opinion.”

Mr. King nodded and smiled. He had already heard the news.

“You went to visit the widow, I hear.”

The sheriff glanced at Mr. King and then quickly glanced away.

“Offer my condolences, in an official capacity.”

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, bestowing faint light and beautiful colors to the sky. Fireflies came out of hiding, their pinpricks of light giving the large front lawn a magical appearance. As if fairies were in attendance. As if a miracle had been bestowed.

“You were there for two hours, sheriff. That’s a lot of…uh…condoling.”

The sheriff turned and stared at Mr. King, his steely blue eyes narrowing a little. Mr. King laughed and hastened to explain.

“The old biddies in town. You know what they’re like. Most of ‘em had you and the widow makin’ a baby during your visit.”

“Vicious old cats,” the sheriff spat out the words.

“Makes sense, though. You and the widow. Esther and Cassie are best friends. They’d be tickled pink to become sisters, so to speak. And the widow’s a fine, strong woman.”

“You done have us at the altar.”

Mr. King tamped the ashes from his cigar onto the porch and scuffed them with his boots. He poured himself more whiskey and watched the fireflies perform their chaotic, beautiful dance.

“Your wife’s been gone for twelve years. I reckon you grieved enough, sheriff. I figure the widow’s grievin’ was nonexistent. Can’t really miss a man that beats you, can you?”

The sheriff poured himself another three fingers of whiskey and stood at the railing beside Mr. King. He sighed and turned to Mr. King, handing him a dollar bill.

“I’m hirin’ you for a two-minute consultation, Mr. King.”

Mr. King looked at the bill and put it in his breast pocket.

“What’s on your mind, sheriff?”

The sheriff paused for a moment, trying to get the words out of his mouth.

“I heard Esther ‘n Cassie talkin’ one day last year, just before Christmas. Esther was tellin’ her that she wanted to shoot her daddy dead so he’d stop beatin’ her mama. Well, that froze me.”

Mr. King looked at the sheriff, a thoughtful expression creasing his face and pursing his lips.

“I figure she would have done it one day, sheriff. I guess Cassie took care of that, though.”

The sheriff sighed.

“I reckon.”

“So, why the dollar?”

“We got attorney-client confidentiality now, right?”

Mr. King laughed, nodding his head.

“Yes. Very clever, sheriff. But I wasn’t gonna divulge that little piece of information anyway.”

“I expect a receipt when you get to the office tomorrah.”

“Yes. Of course. Come by after work, sheriff, and I’ll buy us a couple of beers. I seem to have an extra dollar in my pocket.”

The night darkened and the breeze stilled; even the fireflies slowed down. Soon, they were gone, letting the darkness of the night have its way. Both men remained silent. Cigar smoke curled and drifted upwards past the porch lights, disappearing into the blackness.

Mr. King left after finishing his whiskey.

“See you tomorrow, sheriff. And I’ll expect a wedding invitation.”

“I want that receipt, young man.”

The rest of the night passed as it should have. Frogs croaked lazily, crickets chirped, and lights winked out one by one across the countryside. Two young ladies were dreaming of adventures at college, one sheriff was thinking of matrimony, and one widow was contemplating the mysteries of fate and providence.

The bible with a bullet hole in it was, in due time, returned to its rightful owner. The whereabouts of the mangled word of God is currently unknown.

The US needs $85 billion to build copper mines to replace China’s. Where are the investors?

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Mystery of the Midnight Melon Marauder

Ah, welcome back, dear admirer of my genius. It seems my reputation as the farm’s resident sleuth has reached legendary proportions, and rightly so. Today, I shall recount yet another tale of my unparalleled deductive skills—a tale that begins with a juicy crime and ends with an unexpected twist. This is the story of the Midnight Melon Marauder. Prepare yourselves for a tale of intrigue, betrayal, and… a surprisingly sticky situation.

The Crime

It all began one warm summer morning. The sun had barely risen when I was rudely awoken by the sound of wailing. Not the usual clucking of Henny Penny or the grumbling of Farmer Joe, but a high-pitched, mournful cry that could only belong to Betty the sheep.

“They’re gone! They’re all gone!” Betty bleated, her voice echoing across the farmyard.

I groaned and flicked my tail in irritation. It was far too early for this nonsense. Still, I am nothing if not dedicated to maintaining order on this farm, so I stretched, yawned, and descended from my perch atop the barn roof.

“What, exactly, is gone?” I asked, padding over to the commotion.

“The melons!” Betty cried, pointing her hoof toward the garden. “Every single one of Farmer Joe’s prized watermelons is gone! Just the rinds are left!”

I followed her gaze and saw the evidence for myself. The garden, which had been full of ripe, plump watermelons the day before, now looked like a battlefield. The vines were shredded, the leaves trampled, and scattered everywhere were hollowed-out rinds, their juicy interiors completely devoured.

“What a tragedy,” I said dryly, though I was secretly intrigued. “Melon theft is a serious crime. I’ll handle this.”

The animals gathered around, their eyes wide with fear and curiosity. “Who would do such a thing?” Harold the rooster squawked. “It must’ve been a monster!”

“Or aliens,” Henny Penny added, because of course she did.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” I said, my tail flicking with authority. “First, we gather evidence. Then, we find the culprit.”

The Investigation

I began my investigation at the scene of the crime. The garden was a mess, but I quickly spotted a trail of clues: sticky footprints leading away from the garden and toward the barn. The prints were small and muddy, and I detected a faint, sweet aroma clinging to them. Watermelon juice.

“Interesting,” I muttered, sniffing the ground. “Whoever did this left in a hurry.”

I followed the trail, my sharp eyes scanning for more evidence. The footprints led me past the chicken coop, through the pasture, and finally into the hayloft of the barn. There, I found my first suspect: Clover the goat.

Suspect #1: Clover the Goat

Clover was lounging in the hay, looking particularly smug as she chewed on a piece of rope. Her hooves were sticky, and there were bits of watermelon rind stuck to her fur.

“Clover,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “care to explain why you smell like a fruit salad?”

She stopped chewing and blinked at me innocently. “Oh, this? I, uh, found it on the ground. I wasn’t anywhere near the garden last night, I swear!”

“Really?” I said, circling her. “Because these footprints lead straight to you.”

She shifted uncomfortably, her ears twitching. “Okay, okay! I might’ve… tasted one melon. But I didn’t eat the whole garden! I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. It wasn’t just me, I swear!”

“Hmm,” I said, studying her carefully. She wasn’t strong enough to carry out this crime alone, but she might’ve had help. I needed more evidence.

Suspect #2: Porkchop and the Pigs

Next, I went to the mud pit, where Porkchop and his gang were wallowing as usual. They looked suspiciously content, their bellies full and round.

“Porkchop,” I said, my tone sharp, “what have you been eating?”

“Why, slop, of course,” he replied, licking his snout. “Same as always. Why do you ask?”

“Because the melons are missing,” I said, watching his reaction closely.

Porkchop froze, his eyes darting toward his fellow pigs. “Melons? What melons? I don’t know anything about melons.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, unimpressed. “Then why do you have seeds stuck to your nose?”

The other pigs snorted nervously, trying to hide their sticky hooves. It was clear they’d been involved, but something didn’t add up. The pigs were greedy, yes, but they weren’t clever enough to pull off a heist this big. Someone else must’ve orchestrated it.

The Breakthrough

I returned to the garden to examine the scene once more. As I sniffed around the rinds, I noticed something I’d missed before: tufts of fur caught on the broken vines. The fur was gray, not white like Clover’s or pink like the pigs’. My whiskers twitched. I knew exactly who it belonged to.

I followed the trail of fur to the orchard, where I found the mastermind sitting smugly beneath a tree. It was Rufus, the farm’s stray raccoon.
The Culprit: Rufus the Raccoon

“Rufus,” I said, my voice dripping with disdain, “I should’ve known.”

He grinned at me, his paws sticky with watermelon juice. “Ah, Sir Whiskerton. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” I said, flicking my tail. “You’re the one who orchestrated the melon theft, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” he said, shrugging. “But hey, can you blame me? Those melons were irresistible. Besides, I didn’t eat them all myself. Your farm friends were more than happy to help.”

I scowled. “So you tricked Clover and the pigs into doing your dirty work?”

“Of course,” Rufus said, his grin widening. “Why do the work yourself when you can get others to do it for you?”

The Resolution

I dragged Rufus back to the farmyard, where I explained everything to the other animals. Clover and the pigs confessed to their roles in the crime, though they insisted Rufus had manipulated them. Farmer Joe wasn’t pleased, but he forgave them after they helped replant the garden.

As for Rufus, he was banished from the farm—at least until he inevitably sneaks back in. I’ll be watching him closely.

And the moral of the story? Even the cleverest tricksters can’t outsmart a cat. Especially not this cat.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a well-deserved nap to get to. Until next time, dear reader.

The End.

Why Alimony Should Be Abolished

Is Taiwan slowly trying to get rid of its Chinese relationship historical records by destroying Chiang Kai Shek’s statues and his contents in the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall? If so, why did Taiwan still call itself Republic of China?

There are three major political forces now in Taiwan.

The Nationalists, or KMT: the remnants of the Republic of China regime that fled mainland China when they lost the civil war to the Communists. Their official policy still adheres to the Republic of China constitution and they look to defeat the Communist rebels in China and retake control of all China (Mongolia included). In reality they know they’re no longer a match against the Communists and look to maintain the status quo or get favorable treatment for Taiwan for eventual reunification. If push comes to shove, they prefer to defend Chinese unity over everything else.

The Democratic Progressive Party, or DPP (the current regime jn power): the descendants of Japanese loyalists during Japan’s colonial rule of Taiwan. They adhere to the Republic of China constitution but in name only. Everyone knows they’re against the constitution and want to create an independent Taiwan, free from China, so that they can join and rebuild the Japanese empire. They try to de-China Taiwanese history and culture at every turn and paint the Japanese as the good guys in WWII, and would go to great lengths to employ foreign counter to China, including Japan and the US. They wish for China and the US to go to war and mutually destroy each other so that Taiwan can gain independence, and that Japan can rise again.

The new Taiwan People’s Party. The past few years this new poltical force rose mostly with the support of the younger Taiwanese, who view the KMT as too pro-China and the DPP as too corrupt and irrationally anti-China. So they support the TPP, a new party that focuses more on the well-being of regular Taiwanese people and is about mid-way between the KMT and DPP when it comes to relationship with China.

The Ease of Lying About China, Part 12

I didn’t expect to write so soon, but we had a pretty eventful 24 hours. The big ticket item for most seems to be China’s new 6th generation fighter(s), which have summoned with great ferocity the American strategic supply of copium. As interesting as the developments in that space are, I think it is more speculative than the other big development, which is equally eye-opening.

Let me make the case:

There are quite a few things that stand out to me here, but for the laymen, the basic outcome here is that a Chinese team released an LLM—yes, that cutting edge Western tech product with all the speculation—that performs as good as the best models in every measure (and outstripping the best in some key inventories by large margins) at 5% of the typical cost on crippled, sanction-abiding compute. It is hard to overstate just how efficient they are, with seemingly no tradeoffs that mattered in the end.

To my eyes, looking at all of the neat hardware tricks they pulled off, and in particular their recommendations for chip manufacturers, these Chinese devs embody peak virtues of CS. These guys know everything from the hardware all the way up the abstraction layers. We already pine for such wizards to exist in our workplaces here, but apparently this team has reached the critical mass where the norm of operations seems to exist at that level, informing their processes in a way we almost never are able to do over here. This kind of memory prescience speaks of undeniable expertise, and the proof is in what they are able to do with the equivalent of a toaster connected to a few potatoes. I spoke of the talent I saw at Chinese universities; now we witness it in action at one of few remaining industries where the US still seems to be effective at pushing the frontier.

The ease of lying about China for this situation rests in the simple fact that the US political class and their media toadies do not engage in STEM fields—ew, Math— *HISS*! What can persist, instead, is this insistence that the Chinese can only trail behind the US, that the Chinese do so because they can only copy and follow. Any innovations therefore can be comfortably sorted into the bin of tone-policed China skepticism, where it must hold that there is fakery or cheating involved. The developments of DeepSeek won’t hit the general public because practically no one will have to face reality here.

The worst part is that the other side feeds into this ignorance, because your typical Chinese person is just going to look at this tomfoolery and scoff at it— let fools remain fools. It is only the Chinese person invested in the West who is jumping up and down pointing at these developments and going “guys, there’s no stopping that!” Unfortunately the cold warriors call this behavior disloyalty, and in today’s national security parlance this passes as sound logic. The result is that the West can remain resolute on a course of action (e.g. chip sanctions) that clearly has failed. Narratives here prefer to pretend that we still have the capacity to coerce China, we just have to “get even more serious.”

Coexistence, with some adjustments of our own, is the path forward. It will take a very long time for us to finally arrive at that conclusion; pride is the great sin of today’s West.

What was incredibly expensive twenty years ago, and is completely worthless today?

My Brothers FIRST TIME in China: Expectation vs Reality

Playing with the tiny tiny cowboys and Indians

When I was around four years old or something along those lines, I was walking by a house, and the father was playing with his son. He was also about my age. And they were playing with these super tiny figurines. Maybe a half and inch tall, perhaps 12 mm tall. Little Indians. Tiny horse and minuscule cowboys.

And we must have spent three hours arranging them, playing with them and just being boys. The father enjoyed the time with both of us. I well remember me putting about eight Indians on one of those tiny horses, and the father laughing. “Oh I think that you’d break that horses back” he said.

Ah. Good times.

As a young boy, the idea of controlling a ton of little cowboys and Indians appealed to me. I don’t know why specifically. I think perhaps it is due to the influence of the television at the time.

But I will never forget that moment.

Another father, in a different home, treated me as his own son… or something along those lines. Us three boys playing “cowboys and Indians” together. A time from the past, and a magical time that you all won’t ever see today.

*sigh*

Today…

RIP Jimmy Carter

He meant well.

Probably.

But that is still the better than anything one can say about other former, current and incoming U.S. presidents.

Jimmy Carter: A Declassified Obituary – National Security Archive
The Untold Story of Carter’s Fateful Foreign Policy – James W. Carden / American Conservative
Jimmy Carter: the False Savoir – Michael K. Smith / Counterpunch

Posted by b at 15:17 UTC | Comments (86)

Russia Overtook The US! Russian Submarine Fleet Became The World’s Most Powerful and Largest!

What is the most unfair thing in society?

This boy was previously a kid who had it all, he had good grades, he was an athlete at a university, until a classmate accused him of rape .

He spent 6 years in prison and 5 years on probation , he lost his scholarship, he lost his chance to graduate from university, he lost his honor, and worse still he lost his future .

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Then, after all that was known, the girl who accused him of rape suddenly confessed that she made it all up . Of course, this man never raped the girl.

This guy is innocent, but he spent 6 years behind bars, his sports career went down the drain, and now he has a hard time finding a job because no one or company will hire someone with a criminal record. He lost EVERYTHING.

So what happened to the girl who accused him?

There isn’t any. None at all. Not a fine and less, a conviction

Do you think that’s normal? Is that fair?

Someone who falsely accuses another of rape should AT LEAST be financially punished. Someone who has ruined another person’s life should not go unpunished.

My 18 year old son enlisted in the military without telling me or his mother. How can I talk him out of going to basic training?

About a year or so ago a strapping freshly retired Master Sergeant knocked on my door. I hadn’t seen him in over 20 years. Back then he was a troubled kid. His parents would not let him enlist, threatening the usual stupid stuff.

Quick fix. He enlisted and kept quiet about it until the night before he shipped. Then he crashed on my couch the night before the recruiter was to pick him up to ship out. He simply vanished. A day later I got a call from Paris Island saying he was OK. I kept quiet about it.

While in basic his parents got wind and drove down demanding the kid be released. They yanked him out of whatever he was doing and hauled him in before his parents. The kid looked at the officer and said, “Sir, I have rights. Could you please let me continue my training?” The kid was dismissed and sent back to continue his training.

He took his first leave and went home. His mother was glad to see him, his father tried to throw him out. A domestic took place dad hit mom and the son knocked his father silly. Cops were called, the father carted off and shortly after I got a knock on the door. It was the kid. He sacked out on my couch that night and left to go back the next day. He cut his leave short and returned to duty where he went through training to become a parachute rigger.

We lost touch.

When that retired Master Sergeant knocked on my door he was accompanied by his beautiful Filipina wife and two kids. I have to admit I broke down when I saw them.

That night over dinner he told me he had managed to keep in touch with his mother but the last time he ever saw his father was when he was carted off to jail the night he came home from basic.

You can support your child or lose them. Your choice.

America CAN’T Compete with China’s NEW High-Speed Future!

Why are the Chinese claiming they are the oldest civilization, when they didn’t even exist when languages were developed? The Chinese lasted only 2,000 years. How did they maintain that long?

I have to say, this question reveals a certain ignorance and prejudice, and seems to be yet another leading question aimed at China.

What were humans like in the early days when language first appeared? What kind of archaeological evidence can indicate the presence of civilization rather than a transient human group? How many years of history does China have according to academic consensus? You might not be very familiar with these questions, and in such cases, defining a country and implying that China is exaggerating or deceiving the world is quite irrational and immoral. Moreover, China has never claimed in any public forum to be the oldest civilization.

First of all, there has never been a precise timeline for the origin of language. It didn’t become fossilized and then excavated by archaeologists, so the study of the birth of language relies on indirect methods such as the artifacts they created and changes in human anatomy. Such research is often controversial, with different scholars suggesting timelines ranging from 100,000 years ago to 35,000 years ago. However, during this period, humans had mastered the use of fire and could make stone tools, yet their lifestyle was still dependent on hunting and gathering, with the potential beginnings of plant and animal domestication. In such primitive conditions, tribes separated by forests were likely in competition, making it rather absurd to discuss whether the Chinese or Greeks had appeared yet. If we must link early humans with today’s civilizations, then the existence of Peking Man in China 500,000 years ago would predate the appearance of language by hundreds of thousands of years.

Moreover, the current academic definition of civilization requires evidence of cities, writing, monumental architecture, metallurgy, and other indicators of social complexity and administrative capability. By this standard, China also has “ancient civilizations” such as the Liangzhu site from 5,000 years ago, with large-scale city sites, dam projects, and religious jade artifacts. This indicates that Chinese civilization reached the stage of civilization 5,000 years ago. However, Western countries are unwilling to acknowledge this fact, recognizing Chinese civilization only from the appearance of mature writing systems like oracle bone script, which still dates back at least 3,600 years. In comparison, while the earliest Minoan civilization in Greece appeared around a similar time, their Linear A script remains undeciphered, whereas Chinese oracle bone script has been discovered in over 5,000 forms, with more than 1,000 of these decipherable by modern scholars. This also indirectly reflects why China’s clear history begins from 2070 BC, while Western ancient Greek civilization only began to emerge from the 5th to the 6th century BC.

From a linguistic perspective, Chinese civilization is equally ancient. Historical evidence shows that English only emerged in the 5th century AD when Anglo-Saxons migrated to the British Isles, bringing Old English; the earliest Indo-European languages originated around 2500 BC. According to the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History and the Paris Institute of Mathematical Research, Chinese language origins can be traced back to about 7200 years ago in northern China, long before the advent of English.

Such ample evidence demonstrates the long history of Chinese civilization, yet Western historians often harbor biases towards Eastern history, viewing Greek and Roman civilizations as the pinnacle of human achievement and reluctant to acknowledge the possibility of a more ancient Chinese civilization. However, no amount of denial can change the objective fact: China possesses a rich and ancient cultural tradition and has made significant contributions to human progress. China has never considered itself a dominant civilization seeking to influence the world due to its long history. Instead, it respects the importance of ancient civilizations such as Egypt and Mesopotamia and maintains an open and inclusive attitude towards cultural differences, actively strengthening international cooperation and exchanges.

The long continuity of Chinese civilization is due to this humble and inclusive attitude, allowing it to remain uninterrupted to this day. Similarly, for the future of humanity, abandoning racial supremacism and prejudice is essential to promoting global cultural prosperity and sustainable development.

Japanese teardowns of Chinese electric vehicles by BYD and Nio stun car parts executives in Nagoya

The Proposal

Submitted into Contest #18 in response to: Your fingers tensed around the object in your pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.… view prompt

Michele Duess

General

It was in my pocket and I gripped it, ready to pull it out. Next to it was something I wanted very much to give away. That I should have done sooner but too late now. “Look, my friend. No one wants a fight today.”“You’re about to get one, you Spic bastard.”“Spic? Seriously? There’s no need for that. Aren’t you Spanish yourself?” He looked it. Average height, tan skin, and black hair. If I was wrong things could get worse, but I didn’t know how.“Be careful,” Sara whispered. “He’s armed, you know.”So here we were, standing on a dock over a man made lake in this park. I liked this place. The grass was soft and green. There were fountains of not water anymore, but flowers as fake as the grass. Still, that didn’t matter. The moon was full and shining on the water. Stupid me I had suggested this walk before dinner. I had finally got up the courage to say certain things and now here was this drunk imbécil. This damned native-born denying his heritage. Both of us knew that. I was fighting down my anger.Look, she’s right. Do you want her hurt? said a voice inside me. So, let’s use common sense here. “Look, this is ridiculous since your roots and mine must be similar. So how about I buy you a drink and-”“I was born here!” As if I didn’t realize that. “I’m not from some stupid polluted starving country that can’t even be bothered to take care of their disabled! Why are you here, using our resources, our food and our universal healthcare?”“Which he pays into with his taxes. We both do. And God knows they’re high enough.” For once, Sara was calm. Usually she fought these people but not tonight. She didn’t, I assumed, because of the laser gun. It was pointed down but what did that matter? Still I wondered why. Maybe he really doesn’t want to shoot us. It could be just a threat. I hoped so. He smelled of alcohol. It smelled like he had been drinking for days. It was a smell that always made me nauseous. I looked at Sara. She was touching her temple. Dialing 911 with her implanted head chip? Good. I stood in front of her so he wouldn’t see this. She hated the chip and its notifications. Why did I ever get this damned thing? she often asked me. She had wanted to experience the virtual online world, that’s why. The problem was the electric for the computer system was so expensive. So usually we both shut ours off. I prayed she had a signal. I didn’t. I also prayed the police upgraded their 911 androids. I had designed a program where they were supposed to pick up locations or code words. But sometimes the police didn’t upgrade them. Sara spoke quickly, “Tallahassee City Park is too nice of a place to have this fight, my friend.”Hmm. She might have dialed her friend Julia, in addition to 911. My friend was code for a date gone wrong. Send help. Do it now. Sara had told me that on our first date. We had laughed over it. She could also be talking to 911.”I’m not your friend, you Spic lover trash heap!”“I’m sorry,” Sara said calmly. Too calmly. She must be scared. I was. Take stock stay calm. We were on a dock, backs to the water. Earlier I had seen an elderly woman with a cane, but she wasn’t here now. Our only escape was the water. I can swim but not for long. That damned vaccine resistant polio that is rampant in South America had screwed up my right side. I have implanted sensors to fix the paralysis but when I get tired the right leg drags. This native-born must have noticed that and didn’t like I was here. Never mind that my country couldn’t help me. There is barely food for the able-bodied never mind one someone sick. There is certainly no medicine. I’m here because my family had no other choice. At least here there was health care. And people might curse the climate change immigrants but that was all they did. Usually.“Look. At least let her go and you can have me. Isn’t your trash with me anyway?” I sized up the man. He was about 5’10, about six inches taller than me. He was sweating and breathing hard. I wondered if I could rush him before he raised the laser gun. They’re heavy. But there was Sara and I didn’t want her shot.Sara spoke to him and presumably Julia or 911, “L-Look how about we just leave now, please. We’ll get off this d-dock. Terrible view of City hall anyway. No one wants-”“Shut up, bitch!” the man screamed at Sara. He was swaying. I wished I had a signal. We had just created an android that was achieving self-awareness, but I couldn’t get a rotten signal. Screw the Nuntius phone company, I thought. Well, we could go low tech. There was an old-fashioned utility knife in my pocket I always kept, ready to be used at a moment’s notice. And I cursed that I hadn’t given Sara the other item. Now it might be too late.“I’m going to kill you,” the man said softly. It was more frightening than if he screamed it.“Long as you let her go,” I had not given her this item because why would she want me? There were all these voices. Some were in my head and some were what my family had said. Especially my miserable, alcoholic and paranoid mother. You’re disabled, short, dark skinned, a climate change immigrant. She only is doing this for fun, to appear politically moral and lightened. She’ll leave you soon enough, for someone handsome and whole. She’s blond and beautiful. She could have anyone. Her voice had rose like the sea that had covered Jacksonville Beach, that had destroyed most of the Florida Keys. These voices were going to destroy me if I kept on listening. Now the night I had decided to take this risk this idiot shows up.“Let us both go,” said Sara quietly. “I don’t think you really want this.”“I do. I have no money for groceries, thanks to you immigrants taking away our jobs. So, I really have nothing left to lose.”“You can have our wallets. Take our credits. I won’t report the theft,” Sara continued.The man shook his head. “Oh, don’t worry. After I kill you, I can take whatever I want.”Oh, jack this. “Sara you need to know something,” I whispered to her, “I love you and wanted to marry you. So, whatever happens you know that, at least.” I pushed the blade open and thought, Okay amigo, make your move. I’m ready. If only something would distract him from Sara for a minute. Just one minute. If only she could get away.Unfortunately, the man heard. “You say this to her! You!” He shook, his eyes wet, narrowed. His hands were clenched. “Bastard!”“I said it so she’d know. Now it’s me you want, isn’t it? Let her leave, she’s native-born.”“Sergio, don’t,” I heard Sara say.The man turned to her, “And I bet you would have said yes!”I laughed at this, not completely faking it. “What? like she would have done that! I’m not that blind, just a fool, my friend.” I prayed she would say no. If she did, this idiot native born would let her go. Hopefully. “Por favor, dime que no,” I whispered to her. She knows a little Spanish which was more than I figured this asswipe didI didn’t know why she did it. I wished she hadn’t. She had been harassed enough, we both have, but this was dangerous. I heard a sound like a frog speaking. “Yes.” Then I heard her swallow and repeat it, this time louder and firmer. “Yes.”No. Oh no, Sara.“Then maybe you should both die together!” The man tightened his grip on his gun.Dios, mío, Sara you blind fool. I braced myself to rush the guy, but I heard a voice.“This is ridiculous! Stop this nonsense.” The elderly woman had walked onto the dock, unnoticed. All I saw was gray hair hanging around her face, blue pants, a torn sweater. But the man stupidly faced her and screamed “get away, old bitch woman! You’re old and should die!”The instant he did, I pushed Sara. “Vas! Vas por ayuda!” Everything seemed to slow down like time was being stretched on a taffy pulling machine. However, I’m sure it took only seconds. The man grabbed Sara’s arm. She screamed, twisted it and somehow broke free. I pulled my knife, rushed him and as I did, I thought I saw the old woman swing her cane at him. We fell hard to the ground. The woman struck the man and he screamed. I could feel the air from her stick and hear the whipping sound. I rolled away before I got hit myself. Sara. Where is she? Not here. Good. Who’s cursing in Spanish? Me? I was. I could also hear English. The man was on the ground yelling. Shame he wasn’t unconscious.“You trash! My head! You broke my head! I’m bleeding!”“Good,” she said. “Shut up before you get more of the same.”Dios mío this crazy woman has the gun. “Por favor, don’t shoot!”“I can’t.” She had a raspy, harsh voice. Probably too much synthetic tobacco. Nasty stuff.“W-what?” I pulled himself up by holding onto the dock rail. I couldn’t believe it. An elderly Caucasian woman, who looked homeless had just helped me.“This gun’s broken. See the end of it? It’s cracked and useless. Idiot,” she said to the man.

“It is? Dios!” No wonder the man kept holding it down. He didn’t want me to see it. “And now you got hurt! Estúpido!” I might have beat him myself except for the voice.

“Drop the gun!” Sara had found help. She came running with two officers and two androids. She ran to me. One of the officers went to the man on the ground. The other saw the woman and sighed.

“Crystal. What trouble are you in now?”

” Not me! Him! He threatened these people with a broken gun.”

“Wait. Broken?” Sara glared at the man. “You threatened us with a broken gun?” I was holding her. Partially to comfort her and in part because I was afraid she’d hit him herself. She looked furious.

“Yes” said the policewoman. “Still, it’s assault with a deadly weapon.”

“And y-you know her?” Sara gestured at the elderly woman. I could feel her shaking. She held my hand so tightly it hurt. I didn’t want to tell her to let go. She needed comfort so my pain meant nothing.

“Oh yes,” said the officer. “She was a Marine in the third world war. That was a tough war right, Crystal?”

“A war over the Amazon rain forest,” she answered. “Amazing what we fight over. But it meant our future, right? We had to protect it from being developed. This war should end all wars.”

“So they say.”

The drunk shouted “Arrest her! She hurt me! He cut me!”

“How about you exercise your right to be silent?” the male officer said.

“Are you hurt?” I half expected Sara to say enough, to leave. It’s too much, Sergio. Instead she held me even tighter. “No, I’m fine. Oh God Sergio.”

“I’m here, mi amor, It’s over. You got away. Jesus, gracias.”

“Self-defense course,” she whispered. “How to break someone’s grasp. That’s about all I remember. Should take it again.” She laughed, almost crying. The rest I barely saw. It was like watching a virtual world video. An android took our reports while another one scanned us for injuries. The policeman got an ambulance for the man. He was handcuffed by now. The other officer gave us her contact information, then turned to Crystal.

“Are you going to the shelter tonight?”

“Yes, you busybody. You don’t need to send an android to check up on me.”

“Good,” said the officer. “Take care of yourself, friend.” I heard her mutter something about the rotten state of affairs for veterans. Finally, she said, “Good night, all.”

“Good night? Miserable one.” I was exhausted. I just wanted to go home and forget all of this. That was not to be. Sara was angry. And when she is it doesn’t matter who hears. It’s going to come out.

“You damned fool! Why did you tell him that?”

“Tell who what?” I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Sergio. You told him you wanted to marry me! You could have gotten hurt!”

“I wanted you to know! And you call me a fool? You said yes!” Now I was just as angry. “Why did you say yes?”

“Like I would say no!” She was crying.

“You should have!” What a horrible idea this was. Why did I ever decide to come to this Godforsaken fake park anyway? Romantic, that’s why. Sentimental slop, romance is. Why do I even bother? I was so angry it didn’t even register that she actually wanted me. Me.

“Why?” A whisper.

I was pacing now. “To save yourself! He could have hurt you and where would I be?”

“Neither of you should. We need courage these days. And you need a good walking stick” Crystal said. I barely heard her.

“If you had refused me, he might have let you go!”

She was looking away from me, rubbing her eyes. “Probably. But I couldn’t.”

“Why the hell not? Sara I wouldn’t have cared!”

“Because…if you’re going down, I am too.”

“What?”

Sara glared at me. “That’s idiotic, right? Sentimental slop?”

“No,” said Crystal. “It’s not.”

I felt both very deep love and deep pain.

“It’s true. Bad enough I ran.” She was crying, arms wrapped around herself.

“Dios, mío, you’re upset about that?” She nodded, trembling. I put my arms around her. “Sara. You got help. There was nothing else you should have done.” I pulled back and looked out over the water. I gripped the other item. “Oh, my Sara. I wish I could give you an easier path than this.”

This made her angry again. “None of us have one! I get harassed from my virtual talks. Threats. You know that! Not to mention that damned terrorist attack in the city last year. Some fanatical Traditionalists shooting into a political rally. But, sure, worry about some drunk with a broken gun! Plus, you know not everyone is against us. Right?”

I knew that. But there was the pain. The love. “Sara. I just wanted you to say no to save yourself. You said the same thing to me.”

“Sergio-”

“No. Por favor let me speak. I didn’t want you hurt, so I didn’t want you to say yes. Because I love you. I never want you to leave me. But I’d rather that than you getting hurt. That’s all. ”

“Look. That guy didn’t want to kill us, just threaten. He probably just wanted to rob us, realized you weren’t native-born, and figured he’d have some fun in the bargain.”

She might be right. Still. “But…”

“Sergio.” She touched my face. Her hands were warm. “I’m not leaving. I love you. I meant it. If you’re in trouble I’m there with you, whether you like it or not. Do you know why?”

“Certainly it isn’t my good looks.”

“You’re strong. Kind, and intelligent. Tonight, all you cared about was me. You’re brave. All these things, I need. I need you. And I could be wrong, but I think you need me.”

“I do. So much.” I held her tight.

“Good.” She laughed. “But there is one problem.”

“What?”

“The thermostat. You make it too warm. We may need counseling over that.”

I was both laughing and sobbing. I freely admit to it. It’s 2127, aren’t men supposed to be able to cry now? “We’re both crazy.” I pulled out the box.

“And you just now realized-wait. You have a ring?”

“Well, I had this fantastic plan of trying to be romantic for once. Kneeling and the whole bit. Stupid idea.”

She smiled, “It’s not. Just-please finish this.”

I had forgotten Crystal was there until she spoke in her raspy voice, “you heard the woman. She loves you. Take it. It’s a cruel world out there.”

I looked at her. “Crystal I am grateful for your help tonight. Believe me I am. But by heaven, you’re a damned busybody yourself.” She only laughed, a deep coughing laugh. Sara did too. Well it wasn’t what I had planned but so be it. I took the ring out of the box. Gold band with an emerald. Sara had told me once she liked emeralds. I had to swallow hard. She was crying herself. I held on to the dock’s railing and knelt. “Sara. Te amo. You’re still here after all this. And that’s everything to me.” She was holding out her hand. I had more to say but I could barely breathe. Would she like the ring?

“It’s beautiful.”

I slide the ring on her finger. “Marry me,” I was able to whisper. Then Sara was kneeling too, kissing me deeply enough that her tongue was in my mouth, mine in hers. From somewhere far away Crystal was laughing, inviting herself to the wedding. In the end we told her we’d get an invitation to her somehow. E-mail. She’s homeless but she has e-mail. Go figure.

Later, in the taxi going home, with my arms around Sara I thought Crystal was right. I needed a good heavy walking stick. And a laser knife. I would have them to use at a moment’s notice if needed.

What would you do? You come home after work. You hear a noise in the bedroom. When you go there, you see your partner with someone else. What do you do?

i did this. i walked in and she was under a guy and he was going to town. i threw my keys on my computer desk and told him to hurry up and went to the restroom came out and he was dressed and about to leave. when i told him oh hell no your not leaving here with out her. i told him i didn’t care if he took her 5 miles down the road and dumped her off but hes not leaving without her. and he didn’t. she left i never heard or seen her for 5 months and she came by and wanted to come back. but instead i handed her all her stuff and closed the door. its a good thing she just moved in because she didn’t have much.

“I Told Him ‘Man Up’ In Front of our Friends — I Didn’t Expect Him to Leave Me Over It”

Why would anyone with half a brain enlist in the United States military?

I grew up in a violent household. My father was an alcoholic, and beat my mother, and us kids. I started to get the best of him by my mid teens, and put a stop to the beatings by the time I was 17.

I was working in dead end jobs, in my hometown outside of Buffalo, New York. The rich kids went to College. The poor kids looked to the Military.

Two weeks after turning 18, I enlisted in the Air Force. I was looking to get out of the harsh Winters of Buffalo, and to start a new life.

I had just missed Vietnam. Saigon fell to the Communists two months before I turned 17. The Cold War was still ongoing, so in 1976, I signed up to be a Nuclear Weapons Specialist. I was on Active Duty (1976-1981.) I spent three years in England, serving on American Occupied RAF Bases. I traveled all over Europe and the United Kingdom in my off time.

I completed one year’s worth of College Credits, attending Night Classes with the University of Maryland (European Campus.) After getting out of the Air Force, I attended College on the G.I. Bill. All of $341 per month. I graduated with an A.S. Degree in Exotic Animal Training and Management.

I had a good first career as a Wild Animal Trainer, Elephant Trainer, and Zookeeper. I first trained Wild Animals for movies and television in Hollywood. Then, I became an Elephant Trainer at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Eventually, I worked with the California Condors. I did that work up until my forties.

Joining the Air Force allowed me to get out and see some of the World. Getting out of snowy Buffalo. And leaving my violent upbringing behind. It gave me a fresh start in life. It is one of the best things I ever did.

Wife Complains That She’s In Constant Fear Of Me Leaving…Then She Shouldn’t Have Cheated!

The Greed of Man

Submitted into Contest #18 in response to: Your fingers tensed around the object in your pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.… view prompt

Annony Mous

General

Most of the few pedestrians had gone home and the forest road was practically empty. There was a chill in the air and a biting wind howled through the bare trees, shaking the remaining leaves to the ground. I pulled my cloak tighter around me and turned the curve in the road. I quickened my pace, hoping to tire the man. I knew he could never catch me if I started running, but I didn’t want to appear afraid. Most things did not scare me; I don’t know if it was the weather, the forest, or the man, but right now I was filled with trepidation.

The figure rounded the corner. I looked up and saw another bend in the road, just ahead. That would be my chance. I hastened my stride even more. Just a few more steps. I peered into the dark forest on my right and left. No one. The turn was approaching, fast. I stole a glimpse behind me. The man looked up, seemingly absorbed in the sky. I smirked and rounded the corner, taking off at high speed.

I flew down the dirt road, clutching my cloak. Nearing yet another bend in the road, I tore through the underbrush to my right and pressed my back up against a tree. I thought that the man would think I rounded the corner and pursue me that way. Meanwhile, I would escape back the way we had come.

Soon, I heard scuffling feet. The man came to a stop, panting, directly across the road from where I was hiding. Suddenly he yelled. “Terrowin!” Another man, whom I assumed was Terrowin, came sprinting around the corner.

“What?” the new-comer asked.

“You didn’t see her?”

“No, I thought you were following her.”

“She started running,” my pursuer said. “Are you sure she didn’t round the corner?”

“Aye, I was keeping a close eye on the road and in the woods. She couldn’t have gotten past me.”

“Then she must be nearby. You search over there.” He pointed on my side of the road. Terrowin nodded, pulled out a dagger, and stalked over to the woods. My fingers tensed around the object in my pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.

My heart was pounding in my chest, the way my father’s mallet pounded on his anvil. I crouched down in the underbrush and pulled my hood up over my face. At least I blend in with my surroundings, I thought. My cloak is dark green and my shirt and trousers are brown. As I lay down under a bush, my sword rattled against my leg. I muttered a remark under my breath and prayed that my predators hadn’t heard it. I started crawling, my legs dragging behind me, through the undergrowth.

“Where is that blasted girl?” a voice very near me complained. I stopped, watching and listening. When I heard him walk away, I started inching my way again.

On the other side of the bend, I sat up, brushing mud from my elbows and sword. I peered over the bushes. Nobody was on the road. I glanced behind me. My pursuers were still searching through the vegetation. I sprang up and jumped onto the road. A deluge of shouts announced my appearance and a volley of arrows was shot straight at my head. I ducked quickly and several arrows burried themselves in a tree behind me. I grabbed a bunch and took off.

Stealing a glance behind me, I saw a large group of men chasing me. I slowed my pace to let them catch up, slightly. When they were near enough, I hurled the arrows at them. Many hit their mark. I raced off again. I knew they couldn’t catch me, but there were so many of them, they would be able to track me easily. I had to get rid of them. For good.

I stopped in my tracks and thrust my hand into my pocket. I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass object. The men hesitated, apparently unsure whether to keep running. With my other hand, I drew my sword. A breeze whipped by, blowing off my hood. I was sure the men could all see the wicked scar stretching down my face. I had dealt with them before, and paid for it. As they advanced, I gripped the object harder. I would never let them confiscate it. It belonged to my people, and I had already rescued it once before. They were approaching quickly, swords drawn.

They were twenty yards away. Fifteen. I pulled my hand out of my pocket and lifted it high above my head. The swirling blue Orb tucked under my fingers became warm. I grinned shakily. Oh, I hope this works. Ten yards away. I yanked my arm down and smashed the Orb on the ground. It resulted in a blue explosion, sending men flying through the air. I ran. As I outstretched my hand, the Orb zipped through the air and landed back in my palm. I smiled. It had worked!

I dashed along the road, barely feeling the ground beneath my feet. The trees to my sides were only a blur. I was headed for my hidden city; the city of the elves. About a quarter mile away from the explosion, I halted. Someone was still following. I couldn’t risk letting him go free and endangering my people. I leaned against a tree on the edge of the road waiting. The man, whom I recognized as my original pursuer, soon came into view. He had survived the explosion, but left with a terrible limp.

When he saw me, he spit. “Who are you and what do you want?” I asked.

He laughed maliciously. “My name is Rowan and I want that!” He pointed a gnarled finger at the Orb.

“You stole it from my people. It is rightfully ours. You cannot requisition it without a conflict.” I pointed my sword at him.

“I don’t care about keeping peace! I just want power, no matter how many lives I must take to get it!” he screamed.

“Then the people you rule will revolt against you. This power cannot quench the might of the people. You will be overthrown.”

He sneered. “You don’t know what it’s like. You’ve always been high and mighty in your people. You don’t know what it’s like to live without.”

“Aye. But since I am ‘high and mighty’ as you say, I know how to properly rule a people. All you are asking for is tyranny.”

A dark scowl crossed his face. “I… Don’t… CARE!” He lunged forward. I quickly pulled out the Orb and thrust it toward him. In a tornado of color, Rowan was sucked in, leaving behind only ashes. I sighed, and dropped the Orb back in my pocket. Then I spun around and ran home.

“Leyleandi!” my father cried as I strutted into our hidden city. He embraced me and escorted me into the heart of the city. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you, father.”

“I assume your journey went well?”

“Ah, there were a few complications, but I managed.” I smiled.

“And did you retrieve the Orb of Glandias?”

“Aye.”

“Well, let’s have a look, shall we?” We walked over to a table under a tree and once again, I pulled the Orb out of my pocket. Then, I recounted my tale.

“The Orb has served me well.” I smiled.

My father stroked the swirling blue globe reverently. “Aye, It really has.”

Wife Went On A Girls Trip To Cancun And Cheated On Her Husband. He Found Out And Filed For Divorce.

Garden Fresh Pizza Sauce

Ingredients

2 pounds very ripe plum tomatoes or Roma tomatoes
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tablespoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Halve the tomatoes lengthwise through the stems. Squeeze the tomatoes over a bowl or sink to remove the seeds and watery centers. Chop the remaining tomato flesh roughly and transfer to a food processor.
Add the oil, tomato paste, sugar, oregano, garlic, salt and some pepper and pulse until mostly pureed with some very small chunks. Pour into a fine mesh sieve over a bowl and let some of the watery liquid drain, shaking gently for about 30 seconds to hasten complete drainage.
Pour the tomato sauce into another bowl or jar, use immediately, freeze or refrigerate for up to 1 day.

Why is the assassination of UnitedHealthcare’s wealthy CEO Brian Thompson receiving very little sympathy from American citizens?

Brian Thompson was an evil man.

He designed systems so that people who were too ill or suffering from terminal illnesses would have legitimate insurance claims repeatedly rejected under false objections so that they would die or give up from exhaustion.

This is why he receives no sympathy from American citizens or anyone else around the globe.

Mainstream media is trying to gaslight the public into having sympathy for Thompson and undermine public support for Luigi Mangione.

But they might be digging their own grave by doing this.

Being this dishonest about something we all understand and that we are all at risk of being a victim to is a sure fire way to lose our trust.

There are countless stories of people who were denied care they paid for.

Thompson ushered in the most ruthless predatory practices to deny care.

He denied anaesthetic to people undergoing surgery on the day of their surgery.

Doctors and surgeons have to battle with United Healthcare’s evil practices.

People die because of this for no good reason.

Thompson intentionally kills people and ruins lives for his and his shareholder’s greed.

This is no accident. This has nothing to do with government policy.

They CHOSE to be as evil as they could be to increase shareholder profit.

They are trying paint Mangione as unhinged:

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But look again:

He’s being aggressively grabbed by the neck.

He suffers from severe chronic back pain too, so his body cannot handle being roughed up.

Mainstream media has made every effort to ignore the motivations behind the killing. They try to gaslight us by acting as if they don’t know about the abuse of the healthcare system by health insurance cartels.

They think we are stupid enough to let their lies become truth by repeating the lies.

During the Vietnam War, did soldiers usually have their rifles set to semi or full-auto?

I was a combat infantryman in Vietnam. 1969–1970. Everyone kept their weapons on safe unless firing. The exception to this rule was the point man could have their weapons on semi automatic or full automatic as their preference. In a jungle environment, there were twigs, vines, slippery rocks and mud. You could easily accidentally hit the trigger and cause your weapon to discharge. Unintended weapon discharge could cause injury to your fellow soldiers or at minimum give away your location. I was a PFC and had a new to country Staff Sergeant walking behind me. I noticed he had his M16 set on full auto. I told him to set his weapon on safe. He tried to argue that he felt he could shoot faster. I told him to put his weapon on safe or I would kick his ass. He put his weapon on safe. I checked him several times after. He didn’t do it again.

I took these photos with my “point and shoot” Kodak 126 camera.

The first photo is me sitting in a freshly dug foxhole before bedding down for the night. The second is me waiting for the choppers to pick us us for a combat insertion. The third is me playing a guitar and relaxing in our bunker between search and destroy missions.

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How tough are Vietnam veterans?

My 77 year old widower friend Larry drove convoy trucks in Vietnam. In ’68 a convoy he was in was shelled during the Tet Offensive, causing his Whistling Duece-n’-a-Half to run off a steep embankment and toss him out, then roll on top of him crushing his foot and ankle. He medevac’d and spent months recuperating.

Not long ago, I stopped by his house by pure chance one cold and windy day and when he answered the door, asked me if I could take him to get his truck he’d left in a parking lot 5 miles away from his house. I said sure, but on the way began to think about this. “Larry,” I asked, “if your truck is in the phone company parking lot 5 miles from your house, how are you at your house if you drove it there?”

“I walked home.”

I had to think about that for a bit. Limped home. Five miles. On THAT foot (to this day it’s not a pretty foot and ankle. I’d hate to try to walk 10 yards on it.).

“Why did you walk home, Larry? Five miles? Run out of gas or something? Why didn’t you call me? I’d have brought you some.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I locked my phone in my truck by mistake. So I couldn’t call anybody.”

“Why didn’t you unlock the truck and get your phone out and call me?”

“Because I locked my keys in my truck along with the phone.”

More astonished silence as I thought about this.

“So why didn’t you ask anybody in the phone store to borrow a phone so you could call me or a cab or something?”

“Ah, heck, I didn’t want to be a bother to anybody, so I just decided to walk home where I have a spare key to my house stashed under a flower pot. And inside my house, I have a spare set of truck keys. I figured somebody would come along eventually and drive me back to get my truck. Turns out, it’s you.”

Larry is a professional welder and at age 77 he still welds every day. Standing for hours on that foot and ankle.

That’s how tough Vietnam Vets are.

Ukraine – The Story Of The 155th Brigade

The well regarded Ukrainian journalist Yuri Butusov has published the background story (in Ukrainian) of the newly crated 155th brigade which had recently failed when it was hastily deployed to fill some holes in the Ukrainian positions on the eastern front near the city of Pokrovsk.

The brigade was a vanity project of the Zelenski government and the Ukrainian high command. It was one of fourteen new brigades which were supposed to be trained and equipped by western countries. The 155th was designated to be trained by and in France.

Systemic disorganization by the high command led to its failure. Many of its assigned troops deserted even before reaching the frontline. A criminal case has been opened. But it is unlikely that anyone responsible for the mess will ever be held to account.

The brigade was stood up in March 2024. In September 2024 its core was sent for training to France while a large number of other recruits to the brigade were (more or less) trained in Ukraine. In late November, while the brigade command staff was still in France, a large share of the brigades infantry was sent to Pokrovsk where it immediately faltered.

As Butusov writes (edited machine translation):

The 155th brigade began forming in March 2024. Its commander was appointed an experienced officer – Dmitry Ryumshin, it looked encouraging. “OK Zapad” (Operational command West) Commander General Shvedyuk, Chief of Staff Colonel Seletsky and Commander of the Ground Forces General Pavlyuk were responsible for the formation and manning of the brigade.But from the very beginning, it turned out that OK Zapad had no command personnel, no soldiers, no weapons, and no resources to create a new unit. The formation of the 155th brigade from the first days was a continuous organizational chaos in literally all components, and the service required a lot of effort for those who tried to serve honestly, and to great losses due to unauthorized abandonment of the unit from the very beginning of the formation.

Here is the schedule of recruitment of the 155th brigade, the number of personnel for each month, and -in parentheses- the number of deserters in those months:

March 46 (3)
April 123 (6)
May 217 (31)
June 1978 (185)
July 3882 (310)
August 2748 (217)
September 3253 (187)
October 3211 (339)
November 5832 (448)

New recruited troops, without any experience, were randomly added to the brigade and, when needed pulled from it (untrained) to fill holes elsewhere. During the whole process more than 1,700 of its soldiers deserted:

In fact, the recruitment of the brigade began in June, but they did not have time to complete full training, because immediately in July and August, more than 2550 servicemen were taken from the 155th brigade to replenish other units! That is, they took away from the brigade almost all those who were quite suitable, whom the brigade commander and battalion commanders had just placed in positions, in fact, they nullified all the previous four months of work, in March-June, that is, this brigade composition was organized in August in a new way, and then … we issued an order to prepare all those who stayed until the trip to France at the end of September.As a result, 1924 servicemen were sent to France as part of the 155th brigade, only 51 of them had more than a year of military experience, 459 soldiers had up to a year of experience, and most of them, 1414 people, were only enlisted and served for less than 2 months, including about 150 just recruited without military experience. Without any selection of people, they were sent to France even without passing basic training. It was among them that France had the largest number of fugitives. In total, about 50 soldiers fled in France.

That is, the Army Command and OK Zapad sent to France not an organized and controlled military unit, which can learn a lot, but a crowd of people in military uniforms, about 30% of the staff, who were supposed to organize and get acquainted with each other and with the commanders during the trip!

While the entire brigade command was being trained in France, thousands of new people were being enlisted without the presence of brigade and battalion commanders, as a result, in October and November, more than 700 people escaped from the brigade immediately after being enlisted in Ukraine. Those who deserted had never seen their commanders.

While some 2,000 soldiers of the brigade were training in France some 4,000 fresh soldiers were additionally assigned to the brigade but trained more or less (and without their commanders) in Ukraine:

Since November 15, the rank and file of the brigade began to return to Ukraine, and the brigade headquarters remained according to the training plan to complete the staff classes, for which the French instructors gave the highest scores.

The brigade headquarters arrived in Ukraine on November 30, but Brigade Commander Ryumshin did not have time to get acquainted with his new 4 thousand subordinates who were waiting in the training center, and conduct planned additional exercises with those who returned and did not have time to get all the necessary knowledge.

In the absence of the brigade headquarters and battalion commanders, the command of the OK “West” and CSR began to transfer untrained and ill-coordinated people to the Pokrovsk area.

The brigade command came back from France only to find that its infantry was already being deployed to the front.

Nominally the brigade had been fully equipped by France. It had artillery and armored vehicles. But it lacked the material the Ukrainian military was supposed to supply. The brigade had no drones and no electronic warfare equipment. It lacked the means to gain an overview of the battlefield and to defend against Russian drones which immediately attacked anything that moved. The new heavy equipment the brigade tried to bring to the front was destroyed before reaching its assigned positions. Moreover all the Ukrainian made 120mm mortar ammunition the Ukrainian military supplied to the brigade proved to be faulty and ineffective.

Without drones and artillery and in full chaos the brigade failed to hold its assigned line which led to a breakthrough of the Russian forces.

The brigade’s commander, who had had no influence on what had happened, was immediately relieved.

Back in September I pointed out that the Ukrainian method to create new brigades while letting experienced ones fail for a lack of replenishment was a serious and systemic error:

Experienced brigades are kept on the front until that have less than a third of their original strength. They are not replenished while still in the fight. Newly mobilized men are instead put into newly constituted brigades which zero frontline experience.A better system would rotate out units that have lost a third of their men and fill them up with new recruits before pushing them back into the fight. The result would be the same number of soldiers but with experience mixed into all of the army’s units.

Butusov’s report points to exactly this issue (edited machine translation):

Next to the 155th are experienced units – the 1st OSB “Da Vinci”, the 25th Airborne brigade, the 68th Jaeger brigade, which have an acute shortage of people in the infantry, they can not keep a wide band because of this, and there are experienced UAV units, headquarters, command cadres that can quickly train and make combat-ready mobilized people. But experienced and combat-ready brigades were not given people, they are not allowed to stabilize the front. Because people are given to political projects, the same as the 155th brigade, and there are other brigades newly formed in 2024-the same fourteen that President Zelensky spoke about.

Even if if were been organized perfectly the Ukrainian military would still not have a chance against the Russian forces. But it could have kept its losses to a minimum while holding the line and while gaining time for a political process.

It instead gets slaughtered for the vanity of its higher command:

The top political and military leadership of the country actually played around with the 155th Anna Kievskaya brigade, without even trying to systematically prepare and train the brigade, and without giving the brigade commanders time to create a combat-ready team themselves.The brigade’s servicemen became hostages of Zelensky’s PR project, which the authorities did not make any effort to actually implement competently.

Separately, it is worth mentioning the military command, which is now trying to hide the truth and use the case of the State Bureau of Investigation (SBI) to remove responsibility from itself.

The 155th brigade has now been dispersed with various of its subunits moved to replenish other brigades. The journalist Butusov, like many of his compatriots, is furious about the case:

[T]hey spent people, money and time on forming a brigade, which is virtually impossible to use as a brigade due to its low combat capability. … Why did you create it if you can’t use it for its intended purpose? For your own PR and reports? For a meeting with Macron?

And is it worth it, Gentlemen Zelensky, Umerov and Syrsky, the lives of dozens of people who give up their lives near Pokrovsk as part of the 155th, because of the elementary disorder and poor preparation, which primarily resulted from your mistakes in setting tasks, planning and organizing? Will you give evidence to the SBI investigators about how you brought the 155th brigade to such a state, how you spent huge funds of our allies and Ukrainian citizens, how instead of strengthening the front, you only disrupt the organization and training of reserves?I hope that the time will come when you, the real ones responsible for this case, will be the first to answer to the law.

The story of the 155th Ukrainian brigade is only unique in that it has been well documented. The Ukrainian command has over the last years created may such failures and seems to have not learned one bit from it.

The grief, sorrow and anger this has caused will haunt the Ukrainian state for a long time.

Posted by b on January 2, 2025 at 18:13 UTC | Permalink

Watch Women Lose Their Minds When They Are Treated Like Men

MM daily

Playing around with a Norman Rockwell theme mixed with Bacchus and various setting using different plugins.

Many nudes. I think that it is the Bacchus influence in the prompt + the “artistic” plugin. The moment I went “classical academic art” the nudes started to appear.

AlbedoBase XL Create a anatomicallyaccurate photo realistic No 3(7)

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Gen Z is Weak and Unemployable

China’s next-generation (6th-gen) fighter jet made its first flight today. Is it a shameful thing for India given the fact that we have failed to even make a Tejas since decades? Will China go for territorial expansion now with this advanced tech?

It is shameful

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From 1990 to 2005 – the Chinese made education available and affordable to more and more people , changed the syllabus to integrate STEM into every possible arena and made quality University education affordable and freely available

In India – we privatized education and focused on for profit coaching classes & private schools where tuition is expensive , also lowering the quality of our public education deliberately because the politicians or their proxies own these private schools

The Chinese learnt industrial manufacturing by making toothpicks first and slowly rising to make Scramjet engines

We had the manufacturing to make good quality products from ball bearings to piston rods in the 1980s and now we seem to have been stuck back in the same time

The Chinese created an entire aerospace industry that makes from the smallest components to the most advanced radars now

We on the other hand, we just want the OPTICS and ILLUSION which is why our Tejas uses Engines, Radar, Avionics & Electronic Navigation sourced entirely by Foreign Licensing
Lag in US engine supply delays IAF induction of Tejas Mark-1A | India News – Times of India
India News: The induction of India’s Tejas Mark-1A jets faces delays due to postponed engine supplies from General Electric, with HAL expected to deliver only 2-3
https://www.google.com/amp/s/timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/lag-in-us-engine-supply-delays-iaf-induction-of-tejas-mark-1a/amp_articleshow/114748534.cms

GE will give us 2 Engines in 4 months from May 2025

That means for another 48 Aircraft to be formally inducted, it would take 100–110 months or near to 8 years

Our AMCA is still at basic design stage
IAF — so unprepared for the future, it is ridiculous!
[Rafale in IAF] Intrigued to find an op/ed with the title “Drawing borders in the air” in the Indian Express (1 July 2024) by Air Marshal Diptendu Choudhury (Retd). The title evoked for…

IAF — so unprepared for the future, it is ridiculous!

We originally planned to source 126 Rafale , 52 Imported and 74 Assembled with 30% minimum indigenous components

Instead we now have 36 Rafale, fully imported with no 4.5 generation indigenous assembly

Our import list for these aircraft goes from Polycarbonate Resin to Light Materials

Will China go for Territorial Expansion
China approves world’s largest dam over Brahmaputra river close to Indian border
China has approved a massive USD 137 billion hydropower dam on the Brahmaputra River near the Indian border, sparking concerns in India and Bangladesh. This infrastructure project, part of China’s 14th Five-Year Plan, aims to generate significant electricity and enhance cooperation while addressing ecological and safety concerns in a seismically active region.
https://www.google.com/amp/s/m.economictimes.com/news/international/world-news/china-greenlights-worlds-largest-dam-posing-risks-to-india-and-bangladesh/amp_articleshow/116671769.cms

China may even give up their interest in the Arunachal Pradesh region if they finish their latest mega power dam project that is larger than the three gorges

This could utilize 60% of the Brahmaputra’s downflow adding 33% to Chinas water supply

That gives them 90 years of assured water supply

So they don’t need to expand territory at all

Status Quo will be fine

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Phantom of the Cornfield

Ah, so you’ve returned, hungry for another tale of my brilliance. Very well, I, Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s foremost investigator, shall oblige. This time, my superior intellect was challenged by a mystery so strange, so spine-tingling, that it sent shivers through even the bravest barnyard creatures. It was a case whispered about in hushed tones under the moonlight: the case of the Phantom of the Cornfield.

Prepare yourself, dear reader, for a tale of courage, cunning, and a healthy dose of feline sarcasm.

The Whispered Rumors

It all began one autumn evening. The harvest moon hung heavy in the sky, casting long, eerie shadows over the farm. I was lounging on my usual perch atop the chicken coop, enjoying the crisp night air, when I overheard a hushed conversation below.

“I saw it, I swear!” clucked Henny Penny, her feathers quivering with fear. “A glowing figure, right there in the cornfield! It was floating and moaning!”

“Floating?” Harold the rooster scoffed, though his voice wavered. “Pfft, nonsense. Ghosts don’t exist.”

“But I heard it too!” Betty the sheep chimed in, her eyes wide. “It was a low, haunting moan, like this: ‘Ooooooh!’ It was terrifying!”

I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly fell off my perch. Ghosts. Honestly. The only thing haunting this farm is the collective idiocy of its residents. Still, their fear was palpable, and chaos was bad for my nap schedule. Clearly, I would have to get to the bottom of this “phantom.”

The Investigation Begins

At dawn, I began my investigation. The cornfield, located on the far edge of the farm, was a vast and tangled maze of stalks, perfect for hiding something—or someone. I padded silently between the towering rows, my ears perked for any unusual sounds.

The ground was littered with broken cornstalks and scattered kernels. I sniffed the dirt and detected faint traces of… something sweet. Strange. Corn doesn’t usually smell this sweet. My whiskers twitched with intrigue.

As I moved deeper into the field, I found more clues: claw marks on the stalks, bits of fur caught on the leaves, and what appeared to be a trail of sticky footprints. Ghosts don’t leave footprints, which meant I was dealing with something tangible. And tangible was my specialty.

The First Encounter

That night, I decided to stake out the cornfield. I perched on a low fence post near the edge of the field, my black fur blending perfectly with the shadows. The air was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Then, just as the moon reached its zenith, I heard it: a low, mournful moan, carried on the wind.

“Oooooooh…”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end—not because I was scared, of course, but because the sound was unexpected. I crouched low, my sharp eyes scanning the rows of corn.

And then I saw it.

A faint, glowing figure drifted between the stalks, its outline shimmering in the moonlight. It was tall and swayed as it moved, its moans growing louder as it approached. The other animals had been right about one thing: it was eerie.

But I am Sir Whiskerton, and I don’t scare easily. I crept closer, my paws silent on the soft earth. As I approached the figure, I noticed something odd. The glow wasn’t coming from the figure itself, but from something it was carrying. A lantern? No, it was too uneven. It looked… sticky.

Then it hit me. The smell. The glow. The sticky footprints.

“Honey,” I whispered. “It’s covered in honey.”

The Culprit Revealed

I leapt forward, claws extended, and landed directly in front of the “phantom.” It let out a startled yelp and dropped its glowing burden—a large jar of honey that shattered on the ground.

“Alright, show yourself,” I demanded, my green eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

The “phantom” froze, then slowly stepped into a patch of moonlight. And there, standing before me, was none other than Rufus the raccoon.

“Rufus,” I said, my tail lashing. “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

He grinned sheepishly, honey dripping from his whiskers. “Oh, hey, Sir Whiskerton. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Cut the act,” I snapped. “Why are you sneaking around the cornfield, scaring everyone with your ridiculous glowing honey jar?”

“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “I heard Farmer Joe talking about harvesting the corn soon, so I figured I’d grab a few ears for myself. But then I tripped over a beehive on the way here, and, uh… things got messy.”

“Messy?” I echoed, incredulous. “You’ve been parading around the farm, dripping honey everywhere and wailing like a banshee.”

“That wasn’t on purpose!” he protested. “I got the honey all over me, and then the bees started chasing me, so I ran into the cornfield to hide. I might’ve… panicked a little.”

“And the moaning?”

“I was trying to scare the bees away!” he said, throwing up his paws. “I didn’t realize I was scaring everyone else too.”

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. “You’re lucky I found you before Farmer Joe did,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before you cause any more chaos.”

The Resolution

The next morning, I gathered the animals in the barnyard and explained what had happened. Rufus, still sticky but sheepish, stood beside me as I recounted the tale.

“So you see,” I concluded, “there is no phantom. Just a clumsy raccoon with a sweet tooth and a flair for the dramatic.”

The animals burst into laughter, their fear replaced by relief. Even Henny Penny managed a chuckle, though she still insisted she had “felt a ghostly presence.”

As for Rufus, he promised to stay out of the cornfield—at least until the honey washed out of his fur. Farmer Joe never found out about the incident, and the farm returned to its usual, mildly chaotic routine.

And me? I basked in the glory of another mystery solved, another crisis averted. The moral of the story? Sometimes, the scariest things are just sticky raccoons in disguise.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a sunbeam waiting for me.

The End.

Comix fun

Thailand Prepares for Full Membership of BRICS

Easiest Homemade Pizza Dough

Yield: 2 medium pizza crusts or one extra large pizza crust

Ingredients

1 cup plain Greek yogurt
1 to 1 1/2 cups self-rising flour, divided

Instructions

Combine yogurt and 1 cup flour in the bowl of an electric stand mixer. Mix until combined, scraping down the bowl as necessary until combined.
Knead on medium high for 5 minutes.
Slowly add additional flour as necessary to help dough come together. Depending on how thick your yogurt is, you may need up to an extra 1/2 cup of flour.
Dust clean counter top with flour and remove dough from bowl. Knead a few turns until dough is tacky, but not sticky. Roll out and add toppings as desired.
Bake in a preheated 450 degrees F oven for 10 to 12 minutes.

Bitcoin and the BRICS will make Hong Kong the biggest financial center in the world

Awakened by canoe

When I was in training for MAJestic, I lived in Ridgecrest, California and commuted to the China Lake NWC for my training. As I have discussed previously, it was in the middle of the desert. Beautiful and remote. But yes. Beautiful.

I would ride my motorcycle onto the base with my briefcase. In it would be a simple sandwich. Perhaps a bologna or peanut-butter and spaghetti sandwich. And enter the various gates to get to my area.

Anyways, during that time it was very, very hot.

Dry heat, but dangerous. You absolutely had to be hydrated.

And you know, guys, I wore a cologne. It was “Canoe”. This cologne (when ever I smell it in a store) transports me back to that time. It was a time of new beginnings. It was the start of my life.

In my early to mid-20s.

Canoe.

I find it AMAZING to me how a scent, or a smell, can transport me back in time. To a point where my memories are refreshed, and my emotions are all awakened.

Guys, and girls, never underestimate the power of scent.

Today…

What are some reasons for the negative sentiment towards the Chinese government (CCP) among its citizens?

That it’s too soft?

When the US had Canada kidnap the Huawei founder’s daughter and go around the world threatening countries to stop using Huawei, the CCP didn’t do shit but negotiate. Most Chinese would have liked to see the government act in kind, jailing Tim Cook’s family and seizing Apple’s productions and assets in China, nationalizing it and converting it into a Chinese brand, and sanction every country that followed the US in banning Huawei. Or for the bare minimum, couldn’t we have at least banned Apple like the US banned Huawei?

When Nancy Pelosi violated Chinese sovereignty by visiting Taiwan without Beijing’s approval, the CCP chose to do military drills around Taiwan after Pelosi had left. But most Chinese wanted to see her plane shot down for violating Chinese airspace. You have no idea the atmosphere of expectation for war on the ground in China that night. People were literally gathered with friends and family, anxious like before a sporting event. And man the absolute disappointment and humiliation the next day, when peace triumphed war.

When stupid Hong Kong “pro-democracy” protesters paid by the CIA took to the streets to free a convicted murderer of his girlfriend in 2019, Chinese across the country were shocked. When they started stabbing policemen and threatening the children of law enforcement, most Chinese just wanted to see the protestors and the CIA organizers (American diplomats) dead, or at least jailed. Yet the CCP chose to let the protest rage on and let the fed-up Hong Kongers deal with their own problem.

The CCP is rational and peaceful, too much so in the eyes of sentimental beings. The normal people don’t care about political compromise, we just want fairness, we want to hit back when someone hits us. And the CCP denies us that. That’s the main factor attributing to the negative sentiment toward the CCP at home.

Have you ever met a dangerous person and not known it at the time?

I met a man in Marina Del Rey where I lived. He said he was an airline pilot from France and he lived in the MDR towers. He asked me to dinner, I said yes, and I met him later that week at his apartment in the towers. The towers are sort of a club they have dining and all sorts of activities, so we were going to eat in the restaurant downstairs. While I was sitting on his sofa waiting for him, he offered me a drink. I don’t drink so I declined. I remember seeing a picture of him and his twin brother on his table. He told me they were both airline pilots. Then he offered me a soda but I don’t drink soda pop so I declined that as well. Both times he had already prepared the drinks and he seemed frustrated by my turning down the drinks. So he returned to his kitchen. While he was in the other room I got the worst feeling. Just a dreadfully fearful feeling. I picked up my purse, slipped out the door, took the elevator down and ran to my car. Several weeks later he and his twin brother were in the newspaper, they had been arrested for drugging and raping women. Neither were French nor were they pilots.

Pepperoni Pizza Pinwheels

Yield: 12 servings or 24 sample servings

Ingredients

1 (16 ounce) pouch Pantry Pizza Crust & Roll Mix (including yeast packet)
1 1/4 cups very warm water (120 to 130 degrees F)
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 garlic cloves, pressed
4 ounces mozzarella cheese, grated, divided (1 cup)
3 plum tomatoes, sliced
1 teaspoon Pantry Italian Seasoning Mix
1 (3.5 ounce) package thinly sliced pepperoni
1 ounce fresh Parmesan cheese, grated
1 (8 ounce) can pizza sauce, warmed (optional)

Instructions

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Brush cups of Stoneware Muffin Pan with vegetable oil using Pastry Brush.
In Classic Batter Bowl, combine mix, yeast, water and oil. Mix dough according to package directions for pizza crust.
Generously flour flat side of Large Grooved Cutting Board using Flour/Sugar Shaker. Using lightly floured Baker’s Roller, roll dough into a rectangle even with edges of Cutting Board. Press garlic using Garlic Press; spread evenly over dough using Skinny Scraper.
Grate half of the mozzarella cheese over dough using Deluxe Cheese Grater.
Slice tomatoes using Ultimate Slice & Grate fitted with v-shaped blade; arrange in a single layer over cheese and sprinkle with Seasoning Mi.
Arrange pepperoni slices evenly over tomatoes.
Grate remaining mozzarella cheese over pepperoni and tomato slices. Starting at longest edge, roll dough up tightly; pinch seam to seal.
Using Serrated Bread Knife, slice roll into 12 (1 1/2 inch thick) slices. Place slices, swirl side up, into cups of Muffin Pan. Grate Parmesan cheese; sprinkle evenly over rolls.
Bake 30 to 35 minutes or until deep golden brown.
Remove to Nonstick Cooling Rack; cool 5 minutes before removing from pan.
Serve with warmed pizza sauce for dipping, if desired.

Nutrition

Per serving (1 pinwheel): Calories 240, Total Fat 9g, Saturated Fat 3g, Cholesterol 15mg, Carbohydrate 28g, Protein 9g, Sodium 640mg, Fiber 0g

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Putin, China & Iran Ready for WW3 in 2025–Here’s Why w/ George Galloway

Title: Sir Whiskerton and the Great Haystack Caper

Ah, you’ve returned for yet another tale of my unparalleled brilliance! Of course you have. How could you resist? Once again, I, Sir Whiskerton, the most cunning and sophisticated creature to ever grace this farm, have a story to share. This time, my razor-sharp intellect was put to the test in one of the most perplexing and ridiculous mysteries I have ever encountered: the Case of the Vanishing Haystack. Prepare yourselves for an adventure filled with absurdity, betrayal, and, of course, my undeniable heroics.

The Haystack Disappears

It all started on a breezy afternoon. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I was perched on the barn roof, grooming my immaculate fur. Life was good. That is, until I heard the panicked braying of Gerald, the donkey.

“It’s gone! It’s gone!” Gerald cried, galloping around the farmyard like a lunatic.

I sighed deeply. Gerald is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s harmless enough. However, his screeching was disrupting my peace, so naturally, I had to intervene.

“What’s gone, Gerald?” I called down, my voice dripping with boredom.

“The haystack!” he brayed, his eyes wide with terror. “The big haystack by the barn—it’s missing!”

“Missing, you say?” I leapt down from the roof and landed gracefully in front of him. “Haystacks don’t just walk away, Gerald. Are you sure you’re not just looking in the wrong place?”

“I’m sure!” he insisted. “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone! I—I was going to have a snack, and—poof—it’s gone!”

This was intriguing. Haystacks, as a rule, are large, immobile, and entirely incapable of disappearing without a trace. I decided to investigate, partly because I was curious and partly because I needed an excuse to stretch my legs.

The Scene of the Crime

When I arrived at the barn, I found a large, circular patch of dirt where the haystack had once stood. Bits of hay were scattered here and there, but the bulk of it was nowhere to be seen. A crowd of animals had gathered, all of them murmuring and speculating wildly.

“It must have been aliens!” Harold the rooster declared, flapping his wings dramatically. “They’ve come to take our hay for their experiments!”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed. “If aliens wanted hay, they could just grow their own. Use your brain, Harold—not that you have much of one.”

“I bet it was the wind,” Bessie the cow offered, chewing her cud thoughtfully. “A really, really strong wind.”

“Bessie, it would take a tornado to move that much hay,” I pointed out. “And unless I missed it, there hasn’t been a tornado today.”

The crowd fell silent, all eyes turning to me. They were waiting for me to solve the mystery, as they always did. I let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Let the great Sir Whiskerton handle it.”

The Investigation

As any seasoned detective knows, the first step in solving a mystery is to gather evidence. I sniffed around the patch of dirt, my keen senses picking up traces of hay, mud, and… something else. Something unusual.

“Hoofprints,” I muttered, examining the ground closely. “And not just any hoofprints. These are fresh, and they’re heading toward the pasture.”

The animals gasped.

“Do you think the thief is still out there?” Henny Penny squawked, clutching her feathers dramatically.

“Possibly,” I said, my tail twitching with anticipation. “Stay here and don’t touch anything. I’ll follow the trail.”

The Suspects

The hoofprints led me to the pasture, where I found the first suspect: Clover the goat. Clover is a mischievous little creature with a penchant for chewing on things that don’t belong to her. If anyone was capable of stealing a haystack, it was her.

“Clover,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “care to explain why there’s hay stuck to your horns?”

She looked up from the fence post she was gnawing on, her big yellow eyes filled with innocence. “Oh, this? I bumped into the haystack earlier. Honest! I didn’t take it!”

“Hmm,” I said, studying her carefully. She didn’t look strong enough to move an entire haystack, but I couldn’t rule her out entirely.

Next, I decided to question the pigs. Porkchop and his gang were lounging near the mud pit, as usual. “Porkchop,” I said, “did you and your crew have anything to do with the missing haystack?”

He snorted. “What would we want with a haystack? We’ve got slop, and slop is way better than hay.”

This was true. Pigs have no interest in hay, and their mud pit was far too small to hide an entire haystack. I moved on.

The Breakthrough

As I continued to follow the trail, I noticed that the hoofprints were becoming more erratic, as if the thief had been struggling to carry their loot. Then, I spotted something in the distance: a large pile of hay hidden behind the old apple tree.

“Gotcha,” I said, my whiskers twitching with satisfaction. I crept closer, and to my surprise, I found the culprit fast asleep on top of the stolen haystack.

It was Gerald. Yes, Gerald—the very donkey who had reported the haystack missing in the first place.

“Gerald!” I shouted, waking him with a start. “Care to explain why you’re napping on the stolen haystack?”

He blinked at me, his ears drooping in embarrassment. “Oh… uh… I guess I forgot. I moved the haystack over here because… um… the sun was better for napping. Then I got tired, so I… well, I fell asleep.”

I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “You caused this entire scene because you wanted to nap in the sun?”

Gerald nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just really like hay, and this spot looked cozy.”

The Resolution

I dragged Gerald back to the barn, where the other animals were waiting anxiously. When I told them what had happened, they erupted into laughter.

“Leave it to Gerald to forget he stole the haystack!” Harold cackled.

“I told you it wasn’t aliens!” Bessie said triumphantly.

As for me, I simply shook my head. “The moral of the story,” I announced, “is that sometimes the simplest explanation is the correct one. And also, donkeys are ridiculous.”

With the haystack returned to its rightful place, peace was restored to the farm. As for Gerald, he promised to stick to napping in the pasture from now on. And me? I retired to my favorite sunny spot on the barn roof, ready for the next absurd mystery this farm would inevitably throw my way.

The End.

Do you agree with Treasury Secretary Janet Yellen that “Ukraine’s success is in America’s core national interest”?

I used to respect Yellen thinking a person with a PhD has some morality. Boy, I was so wrong. She was as evil as Satan. She is so selfish. Only thinking about USA & not humanity in general. Since she is a Jewish American, perhaps like her bible, Jews are chosen people & all others are animals that can be slaughtered by the Jews.

The whole idea of the Ukraine war is to 1) gobble up Ukraine’s rich natural resources 2) weaken rival Europe’s economy & 3) lastly to break up Russia.

Of course, USA makes it look like Russia invasion. Russia’s fault.

USA, Yellen included, has the mentality of colonialism & ultra capitalism. How many people died in the Ukraine war? How many more deaths do Satan Yellen & USA want to make USA “great”?

I heard her speeches in universities. Soft spoken. But full of gossip-like speeches to create hatred & fear of China. I despise her. I hate Satan.

The Sopranos – Tony Soprano whacks Chucky Signore

As Samsung phone is for South Korea and iPhone for the US, what equivalent top tier phone is for China?

Xi jinping’s phone: Special customized Military-grade encryption zte axon smartphone, top configuration.

main qimg a4a5caaf97e8e02b208f55a948860b49 lq

Professional supply of CPC cadres, Chinese government cadres, diplomat, PLA cadres, not available in the market.

To Bake Under the Sun

Submitted into Contest #196 in response to: Set your story in a world where time travel has been perfected, and people can use it to hop between alternate timelines — but at a cost.… view prompt

Sam Jacobsen

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

Earth is now a whisper–sad, desolate. For many miles, crags drone on in a ceaseless field of black. The rocks left behind are sharp and cracking, their shale falling down into pits of tar and sludge. At the peak of the highest crag is a glowing portal–our slip. It is a gate to another time; another place. We funnel through the slip like lemmings to the cliff, our eyes glazed and desperate. We being the last of us, that is. We come, warped and damaged by radiation, drought, famine, to escape. The seas and forests are gone, our beloved animals with them. The things which remain are warped and ugly: things which should never be trusted, and never be eaten. So, we march to the slip–to places bountiful and beautiful. Pilgrims, that is what we are, come to pray to our swirling god. Beyond and about the world burns, boils, breaks as it has for as long as we can remember. Overhead, toxicrows bark. Their call is a loathsome, lonesome thing–the song of our last birds. Earth, our mother, screams, spewing up green sludge with each cough. Only in the slips is there beauty anymore: a giant, rounded portal to a separate time, surrounded by copper machinery. Its many tubes, electrodes, and vents scream at us, begging for mercy. Big waste tubes run from it down into the crust of out world, pulsing like a sick vein.One of us steps forward–an irradiated man with burnt skin. He, smiling, steps through the slip and disappears. Not but a second later, a form falls from the sky in the distance and splats into a wide pit. Person by person the line decreases, its backmost reaches leading on for uncountable miles. As the unchanging light of our dying world filters on, I move.Soon, it is my moment. The slip towers above me–a welcoming swirl. With a nod, the slip-keeper–his fleshless face hidden behind a plague mask of junk–bids me enter. Stepping forward, I am swept up in the cold hug of the slip. Though I have never seen the sea, I know now how it feels to be adrift in it. It’s the soothing, amniotic rush through the fabric of many realities. Separate times flicker by like framed photographs behind dusty glass. There: a man learning to ride a bike. There: a lone fish in a wide, endless depth. They come in droves, these moments. The slip was perfected decades ago, and it leads me seamlessly to where I want to be.Colors rocket by, leading me to a time, a place, where all is clean and good. A time where my child is still alive; a place when flowers still grow. Here, things are foreign, yet familiar. At first, my head hurts–a symptom of slip-travel, or so I was told. But a headache is worth the time I have ahead. There are pools here…lakes…oceans. Forests too, and cities not held together by junk wire. I grow. I laugh. I love. I know it is not permanent, but the knowledge fades in time. What pain is there here but the prickle of pine needles underfoot? What sadness but the bitter-sweet, happy kind? I don’t go hungry here, nor fall to bits in the light of the sun. In my original time, rain was a stinging, stinking barrage. Here, it is beautiful. The mountains are clean; the skies are clear. I find I often wonder how I could have ever survived in such a place as the one I left. Yet, there is a ghost–lurking and terrible–in the shape of things. It is the shadow of what is. What will be. What I left. There’s something like guilt inside of me; I’ve sacrificed a life in my own time for a new one here. Is that so wrong? I did leave my friends…did leave my love. Surely, if they could see how beautiful this place is, they would not judge.A day comes when the slip-trip is done. The portal–once a friend, now angry and red–rips me from the separate place. I am shorn, tossed, discarded. Tired, I am deposited in the sludge pits of my ruined home. The slip had mangled me irreparably. My limbs are twitching goiters. My organs bloat and squeeze incorrectly; my flesh is a colorless bag of veins. My mouth slants up between my eyes, coils over my head, and back over my spine. My eyes–lidless now–are turned forever upwards to watch the blazing sky. Not even the toxicrows dare taste my flesh.In my world. but a second has gone by.I hear a friend scream at me from the line. “Look!” she says, “what fun you must have had.”She’s right.Watching the lines pour over the crags–the silhouettes marching into the slip–I grow to resent them. I had my time, but I want more. One by one the people return, cast down to wallow beside me, their DNA mutilated by the slip’s rays. We will never die now: the cost of a brief taste of utter serenity. Though we cannot shut our eyes, we sleep and dream all the same. Our lips gibber, teeth gnash, and we remember those separate times. Body by body, we grow in number until our pit is full. When there is no more room, the sun melts our bodies into one. Cobbled flesh, melded bones, our thoughts trail off and merge, our brain cells fusing together. My memories of flowers and my child become memories of slow, dark rain against a ship. Become the gentle breeze through palms on a quiet beach. Become the rhythmic thrum of heavy bass in a noisy club. Become hellos and goodbyes and tears and kisses and dancing and sex, each neural-fusing brining a new brilliant burst of light. Before long, the memories compile too many times over, and we become a mindless legion, our terrible form growing lost beneath falling shale and sludge. trapped in the dark, we can feel the weight of new slip-returnees plopped down. They enter, they live, they land here to bake under the sun.

How China is about to cause HUGE pain for America’s economy

Why isn’t China exporting robots?

Why did China showcase so many cool things in the last few days of 2024? Does China actually have much more potential than we thought?

main qimg b22b1caeba35829e614f4f6a1bf43f8b

I bet you don’t know the latest Xiaomi Ninebot Scooter that has gyroscopic balance and can’t fall down , which can automatically drive itself from the parking lot for a 100 meter distance to where you are

That can be started by mobile phone if your key is lost

That can have a battery shutdown if security more is installed (meaning OTP or QR code Authorization mode can be activated)

Range is 185 Kms & Max Speed is 166 KPH but Median Speed is 77 KPH

It sold the most E Bike units in 2024 December and is priced at 11,999 Yuan & 14,999 Yuan

Cheaper than an iPhone or Huawei Foldable Phone

Imported Tax Free into India, it’s cost would be ₹ 1.33 Lakh

This year China approved it’s own Immunotherapy regime for Cervical Cancer and their own approved drug , made in China

Treatment cost reduces from 88,000 Yuan for a course to 26,000 Yuan for a course

The Swiss US FDA Drug isn’t banned.

You can choose to pay 90,000 Yuan for the US Product or 26,000 Yuan for the Chinese Product

Unfortunately neither is covered under insurance 😔

Chinas Potential is immense and it’s showcasing them regularly

Phytium and Loongson Processors once regarded as total junk are now performing on par with Intel Processors of 2 1/2 – 3 years ago

It’s a Nation on the move now !!!!

Scratched Wax

Chris Miller

“I see that you cannot take your eyes from the gifts time has bestowed upon me.” The Dealer’s eyes glinted through a fringe that lay over his face like the unearthed roots of a mangrove swamp. The roots fed a great vine of matted hair that climbed over his head in a dense coil and looped down to twist like a constrictor several times around his body.

“Stare,” he said in a delicate breath barely strong enough to carry the word, “every second you spend staring at me becomes mine.” He raised a thin hand and used the edge of a long, twisted fingernail to score a line into the body of the candle that burned on the table between us. “You may share my time until the flame erases the line.” His hand dropped to the table under the weight of his decades-long nails, which twisted like fuses and scraped toward me through the silence as he flexed his gnarled fingers. “Now, tell me your needs and learn my price.”

“I need to travel,” I said, focusing on the two sparks of candlelight reflected in The Dealer’s eyes, trying to ignore the huge figure who stood by his side, just visible at the edge of the small reality of candle-lit space.

“To the lived, or the unlived?”

“Back, I want to go back. To the lived.”

“Ah, yes, to revisit the lived is more valuable. We are all moving into the unlived, travelling there is a mere matter of efficiency, but to revisit the lived, that offers possibilities beyond comprehension, and so, to be blunt, it must attract a higher cost. How far do you wish to travel?”

“It depends on the price.”

“As so much does, indeed, as so much does,” sang The Dealer with a slow shake of his head. “I charge one hour for one scint,” he said flatly.

“Scint? The government are offering a minute for an hour, what’s a scint?”

“Ah, the government. Those philistines have no understanding of the true value of time, and they place such… illiberal limits on travellers. They make life so difficult for independent businessmen like myself and my colleague Mr Cleave,” said The Dealer with a slight nod to the figure at his side, “but in the face of adversity, we innovate! One hour of your life will buy you one scint of travel, one hundredth of an hour.”

“I don’t know. It’s expensive.”

The large figure stooped and a pale face with black-bagged eyes sunk into the candle’s glow. The head rolled slightly as scarred lips twitched and bounced, miming speech and poisoning the globe of candle light with sour breath, but remaining as silent as the sea bed. After a few seconds, when the lips were still, the words came.

“If you could get a government licence you wouldn’t be here. One hour, one scint. The rate is not negotiable.”

I nodded, holding the unblinking glare of the desynchronised addict as his face rose away from the flame and back into the darkness. I pretended not to have noticed his lag.

“You must forgive Mr Cleave,” said The Dealer. “He is a man of very liberal principles and deeply resents the government’s interference in our trade. He is a frequent micro-traveller and his, shall we say, sumptuous proclivities, have also rendered him somewhat… impatient. Let us come to an arrangement which will allow you to experience the pleasure that he knows so well.”

“I don’t think I can afford your rate. If it’s not negotiable then…”

“Let us not be too hasty. As I say, Mr Cleave lacks my patience. I am a businessman. Life is a negotiation. Everything is negotiable!”

Mr Cleave turned, perhaps piqued by his partner’s flexibility, and disappeared quickly into the darkness, to be followed shortly after by the beat of his bodyless footsteps.

“Come closer,” said The Dealer, “let me see the quality of the time you have to offer.”

I bent forward slightly in my seat, pushing my chin closer to the candle flame, over The Dealer’s claws. He mirrored my movement and the yellow light leapt to his long, grey beard as it swept like rain over the table. He turned briefly to his left and grunted. Hands, too small to belong to Cleave, reached out and fitted a jeweller’s loupe to the bridge of his nose. He turned back to me, aiming the lens into my eyes.

“You have travelled forty-two years, one-hundred and fifteen days, twenty-three hours and seventeen minutes… ah, eighteen. Your heart is good, despite your drinking, tut tut! But who am I to judge? We shall leave that to our priggish government, shan’t we?” He tapped his hands lightly as he peered, causing the nails to rattle and scrape on the table under my chin. “Please turn your head to the left. Yes. And now the right, yeeees, unremarkable but acceptable. And finally, to complete my process, you must tell me your father’s name.”

“Winston Craig.”

“My thanks. I see that there were some problems in your youth, the nature of them is unclear to me, but nothing to suggest that you will not have a perfectly average journey length. This would mean you have something in the region of thirty years left with which to deal. Regretfully, this is insufficient to purchase an amount of travel which could tempt me to negotiate on my rates.”

“I need a month,” I said “well, thirty days.”

“Thirty days. Seventy-two thousand scints at a cost of seventy-two thousand hours. Three thousand days, over eight years. Which means that, in line with my long-standing business practices, partially adopted at the insistence of my erstwhile associate Mr Cleave, regrettably, I must charge you nine. We only accept complete years I am afraid. A fee of nine years will purchase you a journey of thirty-two days. Always prudent to buy slightly more than you need, wouldn’t you agree? I’m sure that a pragmatist such as yourself can see that this is a wonderful deal.”

“It’s just… so much.”

“The journey you need to undertake is very valuable, my friend, maybe worth more to you than a mere nine years of your life?”

“It is important. The thing I have to do, it would change a lot.”

“And to relive the already lived would be inaccessible to you by any other means, by any licenced means, wouldn’t it?”

“It is a big decision.”

“Ah, my friend, it is no decision at all.” The Dealer grinned and aimed the lens of the loupe at the flame as it burned closer to the scored deadline in the wax. “I do not know when next I will be available for a consultation. It could be some time. Every second you hesitate is one you must buy back at the point at which you see sense.”

“I just don’t know.”

“Mr Cleave! Mr Cleave where are you? We are leaving!” The Dealer twisted indignantly in his seat and made a show of preparing to leave despite being incapable of so much as standing without assistance. “There is no creature so reprehensible as a time waster!”

“Wait,” I said quietly.

“Mr Cleave! Where has he got to?” The Dealer looked to the other figure in the darkness and hissed, sending them scuttling off to search for Mr Cleave.

“What if I had more time to offer? Not just more, but higher quality too?”

“I have appraised your time; higher quality would mean it would have to come from another donor.”

“Yes.”

“A younger donor?” The Dealer stopped looking around for Cleave and pointed his loupe at me once again, a flicker of candle light briefly flashing a magnified image of a hungry, yellow eye in the thick lens.

“Yes.”

The Dealer raised a hand and with a careful scrape of a nail scored a new line, lower down on the candle’s neck.

“You have my attention; you may share my time a little longer. But be warned; if you are wasting more of my time, you will find you have considerably less to deal with than I previously estimated. Mr Cleave will gladly relieve you of it.”

“I’m not wasting your time,” said a boy’s voice in the darkness.

“Who’s there?” said The Dealer, instinctively turning to his left for assistance and, finding none, stiffly jerking his neck to shake the loupe awkwardly away from his eye, unable to use his clawbound hands, helpless without Cleave or his other associate.

A boy of twelve stepped into the glow of the candle beside me. The Dealer rocked forward so far over the table that a few stray beard hairs curled and smoked in the candle’s orbit. The tip of his tongue flickered in his moustache.

“You would be prepared to offer the child’s time?” said The Dealer.

“Would you be prepared to appraise it?” I said.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry, child, I won’t take a moment. Turn your head to the left for me.”

The boy complied, blanky obedient.

“Yes, good boy. And to the right… Yes… Closer to the flame, my Little Moth. Very good. And finally; what is your father’s name?”

“Winston Craig.”

“Ah, a family name, how traditional. My thanks, Little Moth.” He turned back to me, “I have seen enough. If you can guarantee that we could conduct our business without any, obstructions, then for the boy’s time I could match even our foolish government’s rates.”

“There won’t be any obstructions,” I said, looking at the boy who solemnly shook his head.

“What about the mother?” asked The Dealer.

“Mother’s dead,” I said.

“Ah, tragic. Such a waste, to die young,” said The Dealer affecting a frown that did little to conceal his obvious joy at the new opportunity.

“She was much older than me,” I said.

“Ah, well, tragic none the less. But we must not dwell on the past! Why dwell on it when you could soon dwell in it?” said The Dealer with a few sawing breaths of weak laughter that left spittle in his beard.

“So, you would take the boy’s time?” I confirmed.

“Oh, yes,” said The Dealer, any hint of humour gone.

“How much would you take?”

“Oh, he has so much to give…”

“What if I wanted to travel thirty years?” I asked.

“Well, my friend, as the wisest among us know, life is a negotiation, and I would negotiate… for a whole life,” said The Dealer, the flame picking out his unblinking eyes as it erased the line that should have marked the end of our meeting.

The boy and I looked at each other.

“Is that enough?” the boy said to me.

“Oh, that is enough!” yelped The Dealer, “that would buy so very much, my brave Little Moth.”

“I think we’ve got enough,” I replied to the boy as I rose from my chair.

“Please sit, my friend, we must conclude our business,” said The Dealer, a weak laugh nervously punctuating his words.

“Yes, let’s conclude our business,” said the boy.

“Yes,” I said, “No need to spend any longer on this one.” I hardened my voice as I had so many times before and addressed The Dealer, “You are under arrest for violation of section eight-B, chapter nine of novel three of the Temporal Protocol. It is my duty to inform you that I am a Constable of the Queen’s Government and that you are in my charge until I deliver you to a designated custody facility. Any resistance will be met with force, proportionate and reasonable, but otherwise unlimited. Do you understand?”

“Cleave!” cried The Dealer.

“I think he understands,” said the boy.

“There are about a dozen more crimes that you will be answering for, I could list them all, but I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time,” I said.

“Mr Cleave!” shrieked The Dealer, “Mr Cleave, help me!”

“He can’t hear you. Byron Cleave was killed while resisting arrest. We took him yesterday morning, as soon as we positively identified him this afternoon,” I said. “He went for his weapon, that cumbersome thing that bulged in his jacket as he stooped to intervene in our negotiation, but I was faster. Maybe his lag was catching up with him.”

“No. This is preposterous! You cannot use travel to convict me. I know my rights; disordered events are inadmissible.”

“Our conversation here this evening will provide more than enough evidence.”

“Entrapment then! What despicable wretch would use a child in his scheme to corrupt an honest businessman? It is not legal; it will not stand. No child can agree to take part in this. Run child! Flee this heinous beast!”

“I could never get away from this man even if I did run. Anyway, it was my idea,” said the boy calmly.

“It cannot be. Trust a wise old man, your father, this wretch, whoever he is, has lied to you, used you. A child cannot agree to be exploited in this way. You were mere bait in his trap to ensnare an innocent entrepreneur.”

“Like I said, it was my idea,” I said.

“And mine alone,” said the boy.

“Ah…” said The Dealer as he slumped in his chair, his head rolling forward under the weight of his thick vine of hair. He stared at his finger nails, coiling and twisting over the table, their shadows tearing at its surface in the flickering light of the faltering candle. “In the panopticon they will take time’s gifts from me,” he said with a moan.

“They will take everything,” we said, as the candle guttered and died.

Shorpy

SHORPY 1951 oak ridge 14675388454.preview

SHORPY civil defense air raid drill 49774227527.preview

Scott Ritter: Germany is F*CKED as it faces total COLLAPSE, NATO in Big Trouble

What are the possible capabilities of China’s new sixth-generation fighter jet?

First there are 2 fighters and I am not sure why only one of those fighters is being talked about as the 2nd plane is just as important possibly as the first.

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The first fighter labeled the J-36 is a triangular tailless fighter/bomber. There are multiple ways that this fighter could be set up.

It could be used as a like a stealthy TU-22M3 with a range around 6000–7000km and speed over Mach 2 possibly closer to Mach 3. It would use most likely 3 WS-15 with total thrust output of 540KN or around 121,000lbs of thrust. Which with projected maximum weight of 50 tons would allow for a T/W of 1.21 at max afterburner. The armament is likely to either 10+ PL-15E’s or 6–8 PL-17’s with possibly 4 PL-12’s in smaller bays. The real question becomes how maneuverable will this plane be. It has the thrust but without vertical tails and what appears to be the lack of thrust vectoring it will very difficult to make agile. This why all NGAD renderings add canards to tailless designs to add better maneuverability. There are also theories on using puffs of air to move plane around but to date it has never been done.
It could be used as a stealth standoff missile carrier similar to B-21. It could have no afterburners and travel subsonic with long range cruise missiles to penetrate air defences and fixed targets on the ground . In this case the need for high maneuverability would not be important as most likely it would use the new 500km AKF98A missile. It could also hold multiple glide bombs, or drones.

The second is what is being called the J-50 this seems to be the fighter jet of the 6th generation for China. It is approximately 2 meters longer and 9m wider wingspan than J-20. The J-50 is believed to use the 2 WS-15 engines with estimated top speed of Mach 2+. This design will allow for larger payload due to additional length and width allowing for larger weapons bay. This is also a tailless design therefore the all aspect stealth should be greatly increased. The swept back wing design with adjustable tail fins will produce strong aerodynamic performance.

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All this analysis is speculation as all we have seen are pictures and videos, the Chinese military have provided no details. I have heard a lot of coping by both American and Indian media speaking about things like NGAD having belter avionics or that in does not have adaptive cycle engines therefore it is not 6th generation. The fact is that China is years ahead of the US in the 6th generation fighter currently. How can I say that? These were not first time flights, these were not yellow prototypes flying around. The color scheme alone lets you know that these fighters are in much later testing in the phase, maybe 2 to 3 years from production if not less especially for the J-36 which I believe is what was called up until a week ago the JH-26 had spy photo’s up long ago. In fact the Chinese may have more hiding in the background. For all those who think that US is so far ahead in technology whether it be chip, AI or R&D I would ask you to see how even with the US doing everything it possibly to retard Huawei ability to innovate it has not worked. Their AI models a year or two behind the Americans. That is not a significant enough gap in technology to speak of especially since the gap keeps closing.

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Alleged JH-26 spy photo.

The point is this, if you took all the tech in the J-20 and just stuffed it into the J-36 added the rumored side arrays and additional optical. The improved stealth and range would make it a huge threat to all US carriers and naval vessels, Guam, Philippines and India. Fighter generations are a made up marketing tool by Lockheed Martin. Here is the question you need to ask? Will these new fighters make it easier for the Chinese to dominate the air and ground domain versus the US. The answer is yes and the Chinese will probably have a minimum 5 year head start. With China ability to manufacture equipment at the highest rate in the world that could be 50 fighters a year. That means in when the first Western 6th generation fighter roles off the assembly line there might already be 250 J-36’s and 250 J-50’s. There will be no recovering from that deficit. As the saying goes “quantity has a quality all it own”.

Why do old people not declutter their estate before they die and leave a huge cleanup burden on their children?

Hmmm. We are in our late 60’s and just downsized. We moved from a big 4 bed house to a condo.

We raised our kids in the old place and lived there 30 years. And yeah, we had a lot of stuff. All our parents and grandparents passed on and a lot of their stuff came to our house. We had a big basement, and a shed. Our kids moved in and out and in and out, leaving stuff stored. There was the archives of their childhoods. All kinds of tools and materials, and ladders and you name it from gardening and household projects. Holiday decor. Stuff from our respective careers and sports gear and hobbies.

We’d been looking at condos but in a slow motion, more to educate ourselves about neighbourhoods, amenities etc. we’d loved our house and our neighbourhood. Then we happened to see a condo on line, had a look, and that was it. We bought it. We were in the soup.

Getting rid of the stuff was awful. Serious, time consuming, hard work. Literal truckloads full being sorted and sent to auction, trash, donation. We gave what could be used to relatives and friends and kids. We forced kids and our son in law and daughter in law to come over and make decisions (it’s YOUR dresser and headboard, tell me what you want done with it).

Really painful decisions had to be made about cherished heirlooms and sentimental items we loved, but knew we’d have no space for. It was exhausting. It was grubby. It was overwhelming. It took forever. There were 100 million things I’d have MUCH rather been doing.

And yes, we hired help to get it done. We were motivated – and what’s more, we were healthy and physically well. We also hired a real estate agent who could help with prepping the old house for sale who had an eye for the neutral decor that sells these days (goodby burgundy living room and forest green dining room, lol)

Imagine if we’d waited a couple of years until we’d needed to move because one of us was ill, or had mobility issues. It was challenging enough on every front when we were relatively hale and hearty.

Getting settled in to our new place has also been a lot of work. I’m happy about it, but I’m also tired of thinking about window coverings and rugs and where things will fit. I’m tired of installing hooks and deciding where shelves need to go and where we will hang various pictures, and dealing with painters and electricians and plumbers. I’m sick of trying to figure out where I stashed things from boxes I’ve unpacked. I must have rearranged cupboards a half dozen times. No one likes moving. It’s expensive and inconvenient. It’s that much worse when you are older!

Take some pity on older folks. It would be totally too much for many. You basically have to do it long before you HAVE to and most folks don’t want to think about it, much less tackle it. It requires you to confront your own mortality and coming decline. You need to say – I can’t really go down those cellar steps safely…..or…..realistically, I’ll never mountain bike again…..or…..I loved to sew but my arthritis means I can’t any more. It’s hard to accept. It’s hard to part with things you love and hoped to use again.

In what ways do you think China’s treatment of Uyghurs contradicts its claim of upholding international norms?

China’s treatment of Uyghurs does not contradict its claim of upholding internationl norms. In fact, it is proof of China’s concern and caring for the Uyghurs. contrary to the lies of the US.

Consider the following factors:

POPULATION GROWTH

The Uygur population in Xinjiang has increased from over 8.34 million in 2000 to over 11.62 million in 2020. The growth rate was much higher than that of the country’s total ethnic minority population, which stood at 0.83 percent. This is not consistent with genocide.

EDUCATION

According to data from the seventh national census, 8,944 per 100,000 Uygurs had received a university education, an increase of 6,540 people compared to 2000, and the average years in education for those aged 15 and above also grew from 7.06 years in 2000 to 9.19 years in 2020. This is not consistent with a tribe being oppressed.

GDP

GDP has seen significant growth. This is not consistent with a tribe being oppressed. The flat chart between 2014 and 2016 is caused by the ETIM terrorists being most active and disruptive at that time.

UNEMPLOYMENT

Unemployment has been brought down to lower than the national unemployment rate. For example, for 2017, China’s unemployment rate was 4.4% and for 2018, it was 4.28%.

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TOURISM

Xinjiang has always been open to international tourism (not possible if there is oppression and genocide going on there).

From January to April this year (2023), Xinjiang received 51.2 million tourists (domestic and international), an increase of 29.6 percent year-on-year, with the region’s total tourism revenue rising 60.6 percent to hit 42.64 billion yuan ($5.45 billion)

Pepperoni Pizza Twist

Yield: 16 servings

Ingredients

1 (3.5 ounce) package pepperoni slices, diced
1 (3.25 ounce) can pitted ripe olives, drained and chopped
2 tablespoons snipped fresh parsley
1/2 cup (2 ounces) shredded mozzarella cheese
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 garlic clove, pressed
2 (11 ounce) packages refrigerated French bread dough
1 egg
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning mix
2 tablespoons (1/2 ounce) fresh grated Parmesan cheese
1 (15 ounce) can pizza sauce, warmed (optional)

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Dice pepperoni. Chop olives. Snip parsley using kitchen shears.
In a bowl, combine pepperoni, olives, parsley, mozzarella cheese, flour and garlic. Mix well.
Place bread dough, seams sides up, on smooth side of a cutting board. Using a serrated bread knife, slice each loaf lengthwise, end to end, cutting halfway through to center of loaf. Spread open flat. Lightly sprinkle additional flour over dough.
Using roller, roll dough crosswise to a 4 inch width, creating a well down center of each loaf. Spoon half of the pepperoni mixture down center of each loaf. Gather up edges over filling, pinching to seal.
Place loaves, seam sides down, in an x pattern on a rectangular baking stone or baking sheet. Crisscross ends of dough to form a large figure 8, keeping ends of dough 1 inch from edge of stone and leaving two 11/2 inch openings in center of twist.
Separate egg over a bowl; discard yolk. Beat egg white and seasoning mix; lightly brush over dough with pastry brush. Using serrated bread knife, cut a 3-inch slit in each of the top sections of the twist to reveal filling.
Grate Parmesan cheese over loaf.
Bake 30 to 32 minutes or until deep golden brown.
Remove to cooling rack and cool 10 minutes.
Cut into 16 slices.
Serve with warm pizza sauce, if desired.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Major Institutions Now Predict Complete Economic Collapse

OMG the MM Personal Computer went into the pearly gates of the has-been

Well, I had a complete computer crash.

BIOs cannot find anything.

USB sticks are unusable. Can’t access the BIOs, and my hard drive couldn’t be found, and when I found it, the partions were all corrupted.

My computer was a “boat anchor”.

Well, after about six hours wasted away trying to figure out what was going on, I decided to get a replacement computer.

Took the time.

Drove to the local mall.

Chose between Honor, Huawei and Shaomi brands.

The young women sales-chicks in the Honor and Huawei stores were clueless. Telling me such things as “Windows does not have a version in English”, and ” you need a RAM of 32GB minimum to run modern programs.”

*sheech*

Luckily there was a youngish man who was on point in the shaomi store, and he really helped us out.

So I got a latest version as the one that conked out.

Shaomi Redmi 14 to a Shaomi Redmi 16.

But I stepped down some on the performance.

Not as fast. Not so much RAM. But a good robust design.

I came with Windows, but I upgraded for the English overlay (no auto updates, and no backdoors to the CIA.

And because of this, I installed Microsoft Windows 11+

…AND…

Lunix Mint Cinnamon at Wilma 22 build on it.

So I have a dual OS option.

I just select the boot-up option when I turn on the computer.

Anyways…

That is what I have been working with over the last few days. I have lost about one month of files, but I have the rest either in the various clouds, or on my backup drive.

I got it all straightened out using my AI assistant; “Deep seek”.

With much more detail later on.

Ah. I’m still in the system banging away on the laptop. But things seem much better now.

Today…

NEVER QUIT. |Powerful Motivational Speech For Success.

English Outsider: Russia-U.S. Talks – A Change In The Picture

by English Outsider
lifted from comments

An interview with [former British diplomat] Ian Proud changes the picture.

I had thought, as did most, that the Russians had given up on the West and were just stolidly ploughing on with their 2022 objectives. Proud asserts that this is not the case and that the Russians are genuinely interested in rapprochement with the United States.

Whether Trump himself can offer that is still perhaps an open question. He faces flat opposition from the Europeans, who still wish the war to continue. The head of the BND said recently that it would be in Europe’s interest if the war lasted another five years and we see from the reactions of various European politicians that the only “peace settlement” they could support would be one that was not consistent with the Russian war aims. For some of them RF delenda est is the only end to this war that would leave them happy.

More importantly, Trump faces significant internal opposition. His attempts at administrative reform are bitterly contested. His ideological stance and that of his supporters is a throwback to earlier days of moderate American conservatism and is quite at odds with the stance that prevailed in the Biden era – it takes little insight to see there’s trouble brewing there. His view of the war in Ukraine is also at odds with the view hitherto prevailing in the American political establishment. And the midterms are looming, elections that he must do well in if he is to keep a fractious Congress with him as he attempts to push through those administrative reforms.

The last thing Trump wants, as he seeks to push through his programme in the maelstrom that is American domestic politics, is the reproach that he “lost Ukraine”. That the West was always engaged in an unwinnable war there, and that Trump is now recognising that reality, will be obscured by accusations that he is a “Russian patsy” or an “appeaser”. We’re already seeing that accusation openly levelled against him by the Europeans and by his own domestic opposition.

That opposition does not only consist of the Democrats. A powerful wing of the Republican Party is also opposed to Trump and that wing is also opposed to any rapprochement with Russia. That wing of the Republican Party is somewhat subdued at present but it’s still there and still with some support in the electorate.

So whether Trump can offer genuine rapprochement with Russia, opposed as he is by what may be regarded as effectively a coalition of the Europeans, Democrats, and even many within his own party, is uncertain. If he can offer rapprochement that’s his sole card to play as he seeks an end to the hostilities in Ukraine. If Ian Proud is correct, that’s a powerful card because the Russians are also interested in rapprochement.

I believe that Ian Proud is correct. The Russians are waiting warily to see which way the cat jumps but if there’s a rapprochement there on offer they’ll take it. The United States is too big and powerful for it to be in the Russian interest to be permanently at odds with it. As I recollect Martyanov remarking some time ago, in the long term it would be better for the Russians to find a modus vivendi with the US than not.

Unfortunately Putin himself does not have a free hand. War has its own momentum and often can render insuperable difficulties that could previously have been glossed over. A substantial portion of Putin’s electorate now believes he is being too soft by far in this war. The Security Council, judging from statements coming out from some of its members, is more hawkish than he is. His military too. And Putin himself has repeated the minimum Russian objectives so often and so clearly that he is in no position to walk them back. Those objectives stated most concisely by Lavrov in his Newsweek interview:

On 14 June, President Vladimir Putin listed prerequisites for the settlement as follows:

complete AFU withdrawal from the DPR [Donetsk People’s Republic], LPR [Luhansk People’s Republic], Zaporozhye and Kherson Oblasts;

recognition of territorial realities as enshrined in the Russian Constitution;

neutral, non-bloc, non-nuclear status for Ukraine;

its demilitarization and denazification;

securing the rights, freedoms and interests of Russian-speaking citizens;

and removal of all sanctions against Russia.

“All sanctions”. Might be some wriggle room there. In his recent speech to the regional industrialists Putin mentioned the beneficial effects of some sanctions so he might not be too worried about all of them.

“Denazification.” As said before, a vague term and would probably only amount to the removal of memorials to WWII collaborators, cessation of persecution of the Russian Orthodox Church, and the elimination of material glorifying the OUN in the schools.

But agreeing on that, as I noticed Ian Proud touching on briefly in that interview, is not as simple as all that. It is an article of faith in the western electorates and for most of the western politicians that the assertion that ultra-nationalists, or “Nazis”, have the say in Kiev is Russian propaganda. For the Russians, however, removal of those ultra-nationalists is a core objective. It’s difficult to see how Trump, or any other western politician, could come to an agreement about the removal of those ultras without admitting that that core Russian objective is justified.

The other conditions are less controversial. From the recent Witkoff/Carlson interview it didn’t seem that the territorial conditions are much of a stumbling block, though for what it matters I doubt the Europeans will accept them in a hurry. There’s the making of a peace deal there that would end the carnage in Ukraine before we insist, in real truth, on “fighting to the last Ukrainian”. But it all depends on whether Trump can get that rapprochement against the stiff European and internal opposition he’s encountering.

If he can’t, that’ll be Odessa and Kharkov gone, and further tens of thousands of casualties. Until I watched that Ian Proud interview that’s the way I thought it would go. But if someone at home in the diplomatic world reckons there’s a slim chance it won’t, one can only hope that slim chance comes off.

Even Von Rundstedt, that most Prussian of Prussians and maybe the best general they had, knew when “Make peace you fools” was the only option left. Our war with Russia is lost. We should man up and accept that reality and not insist on putting our proxies through more hell.

Posted by b on March 24, 2025 at 16:34 UTC | Permalink

Can the United States still remain its power after China having a 6th generation fighter jet? Can the United State Air Force still keep up with China?

Do you want to hear the truth or lies?

The lie is, MAGA, USA! USA! USA!

The truth.

Let me first state that I am Chinese.

The United States should first consider how to restart the F22 production line.

What? 70% of the F22 parts need to be imported from China, otherwise it will not be manufactured?

What? Most of the suppliers of the remaining 30% of F22 parts have gone bankrupt?

What? Are all the industrial workers in F22 already old?

What? Musk thinks it’s a joke that we’re still building fifth-generation machines. Should the United States engage in drones?

If you ask which company has better drone technology?

………………

What about the F35? Seriously, is the F35 really considered a fifth-generation machine?

So it’s okay. Americans can think about it, first upgrade your old aircraft F22, improve the F35,

I won’t say here that the parameters of our Chinese J20 and J35 are much higher than those of the F22.

Let’s go and develop sixth-generation machines.

Tex-Mex Chicken Melts

Yield: 20 servings

Ingredients

Canape Bread

1 (11 ounce) package refrigerated French bread dough

Filling

1/2 cup onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup green bell pepper, chopped
4 ounces (1 cup) Cheddar cheese, grated, divided
1 (10 ounce) can chunk white chicken, drained and flaked
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon Pantry Southwestern Seasoning Mix
1 garlic clove, pressed
2 plum tomatoes, sliced
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, snipped

Instructions

Heat oven to 375 degrees F.
Using Kitchen Spritzer, lightly spray inside of Bread Tube and caps with vegetable oil. Cap bottom of Bread Tube; fill tube with dough. Place cap on top.
Bake, upright, for 50 to 60 minutes.
Cool for 10 minutes. Remove bread from tube onto Nonstick Cooling Rack. Cool completely.
Cut bread into 20 (1/4 inch) slices with Serrated Bread Knife. Arrange slices on Rectangle Stone.
Chop onion using Food Chopper. Chop bell pepper using Utility Knife. Grate cheese using Deluxe Cheese Grater.
In Classic Batter Bowl, combine chicken, onion, bell pepper, 1/2 cup of the cheese, mayonnaise, Seasoning Mix and garlic pressed with Garlic Press; mix well.
Using Medium Scoop, divide filling evenly among bread slices. Slice tomatoes using Ultimate Slice & Grate fitted with v-shaped blade. Place one tomato slice over filling on each bread slice. Snip parsley using Kitchen Shears.
In Small Batter Bowl, toss remaining cheese and parsley to combine. Sprinkle over tomato slices.
Bake for 15 to 18 minutes or until golden brown.
Serve hot.

Attribution

Pampered Chef

Why do steaks from restaurants taste so much better than the steaks I make at home?

I will tell you, but you might not like the answer.

I’m a cook, and I have cooked a lot of steaks, and everything the other answers say is true. A lot depends on the quality of the meat and the technique.

But there is one thing nobody has mentioned.

Once upon a time, I worked as a server in a restaurant that was known for the quality of their steaks. Steak night was a big deal, and always a full house.

The owner did the steaks himself, and he had a secret recipe for basting that he told me he got from a chef at a chain steakhouse. He wouldn’t tell me the recipe but I saw him add a bottle of Italian dressing, so I knew that was one of the ingredients.

We had a new cook, and one day she was filling the big stove salt shakers. She complained that the salt didn’t taste right, and wondered if it had gone bad, so I asked her where she got the salt from. She pulled a big jar off the top shelf, and showed it to me.

It said Monosodium Glutamate.

She read sodium on the label and mistook it for salt.

And instantly I knew the secret to the steaks.

So the next steak night I watched, and sure enough he reached for the MSG.

It makes a noticeable difference in the taste of meat, and it’s in a lot of prepared steak seasonings that you buy, but it might not be good for you. Personally, I don’t use it.

Gate M41

Liv Chocolate

This story contains sensitive content

cw: mentions of suicide, murder, sex, and terminal illness

Balloons, apparently, are a weapon of mass destruction. Even the one that I’m fighting to get past security at this very moment—an 18” round one with the words GET WELL SOON printed above a cartoon sun wearing sunglasses. The more I look at it, the more it bothers me that the sun, in theory, is protecting himself against himself.

Out of all the people in our lives, we hurt ourselves the most, my husband had warned me before I left. Are you sure you want to visit this woman?

“She’s dying—as in, terminally ill dying.” That’s the honest explanation I gave to anyone who asked, including the security guard arguing with me right now. This would be my good deed of the year. This is how I’d atone for all the sins I’d committed in my thirty-seven years of life; how I’d pay my penance for the two-sided tendencies that have plagued me for as long as I can remember.

“Then why tell her to get well soon?” the guard asks, humored. “I mean, if she’s terminally ill?”

With a gloved hand, he confiscates my balloon, making me, at thirty-seven years old, feel like a child. Sometimes I think the guards inconvenience us on purpose, purely out of envy. Only the top three percent can afford time-travel. In fact, most can’t even afford to travel economy. The last time I traveled, there was an issue with my shampoo and the time before that an issue with the studs on my heels.

The guards also tend to dislike us for the reasons we travel. Some elite travel to alternate timelines to have sex with more athletic versions of themselves. Others travel to alternate timelines to kill less successful versions of themselves, to which their lawyers always end up successfully arguing is suicide, not murder.

I explain to the guard that I am not that type of traveler, however. Contrary to what he may believe about me or the top three percent in general, I’m not that type of rich person. I do not want to perform sexually creative acts on a leaner version of myself. Nor do I want to slaughter a weaker version of myself for my own sick pleasure. I simply want to deliver a 99-Cents-Store balloon to a dying version of myself, atone for all the times I’ve deceived people in my life and then go home to my two boys and husband where we will count our blessings.

But he refuses to return my balloon and points me to Gate M41.

***

In the first letter I ever wrote to the dying version of myself, I asked her why—out of the infinite number of variations there were of myself—her life will end the most abruptly. We had the same genetics, after all. The same family history and predispositions to different types of illnesses, albeit different life decisions that had led us in radically different directions.

She responded almost immediately to my letter. Probably due in part to the fact that she only has so much time left in this universe—but also because time-postage costs a fraction of what it costs to time-travel.

Even someone like her, buried in medical bill after medical bill, could afford it.

The air is bad here, she wrote back. The food is bad, too. Pumped with preservatives and chemicals that deform your organs. Probably why I have heart disease and you don’t? Your world is better, cleaner.

Did I mention I can barely afford my blood thinners? she added. My blood is as thick as gravy, and I’m only thirty-seven. I probably won’t even live to get married. Become a mother. Those are the two things I’ve wanted to do most before I die.

I offered to travel to her—to pay for every medical bill, no matter how large. We were connected, after all—maybe even more so than sisters or lovers. The more I wrote to her, the more I felt for her, too. We had the same handwriting, the same 90-degree Ls that could stab and carefully closed Os with not even the smallest gap. At one point, I thought I loved her. Not in a romantic way or even a familial way but in the way my therapist once told me that I needed to love myself more. Perhaps this was the closest I’d ever come to self-love, given what a terrible person I am at my core, in this and every timeline.

So I offered and offered. I’d pay for the blood thinners; I’d pay for the hospice care; I’d pay for the teddy bears. Though I didn’t mean to brag, I made it clear to her that it would be at no cost to me. Our realities, though vastly different, still used the same currency.

When she finally agreed to the money, we decided I’d deliver the money in person to make sure it ended up in the right hands.

You can’t trust people, she’d written. People are terrible. Especially where I’m from.

***

I buy a new balloon when I arrive. It’s almost identical to the one taken from me, except this one doesn’t say GET WELL SOON. It says SUMMER FUN, even though it is December.

The air is thicker here and the smog covers the sun, but the other me assured me before I arrived that it would take a life-long length of exposure for me to end up in the same position she’s in.

As I search for her room number, my anxiety builds. I worry what I will say when I walk in. What she will say when I walk in. The handle of the suitcase of money becomes damp in my hand. I remind myself that I’ve talked to myself in the mirror before; had hypothetical practice conversations and practice arguments with myself in the mirror. I’ve even kissed my own reflection. Talking to this alternate version of myself would, in reality, be no different. I’d visited alternate versions of myself before, but never any that were dying.

“Mary?” a voice like mine says as I push the door open.

“Hi, Mary. It’s me, Mary.”

We both laugh uncomfortably. I try to hug her, but the plastic nest of tubes enveloping her small frame make it more awkward than it already is. We look identical, except for a scar on her left cheek. She’d mentioned in one of her letters a Terrier that attacked her at at her uncle’s BBQ, something that had never happened to me because of a slight variation in my own timeline. The more I look at her, the more I recognize myself in her.

“Your face is so much more beautiful than mine,” she says, touching her scar, and reaching to feel my own face.

Unsure of how to respond, I tie the cheap, curly balloon ribbon around her limp wrist. She admires the Cartier bracelet around my own wrist and then looks back down at the ribbon tied to hers.

“You’re so much better than me,” she says in a croaking voice.

“Well, I am you. Just you under different circumstances.”

We’re both silent for a moment until I get to the point. “This is the money.”

She looks at the suitcase. “Straight cash?”

“It’s the only way to deliver it.”

“I know. I’m just in shock.” She lowers her voice. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How much exactly is in there? Don’t say it too loud.”

I take out my phone to type it out for her. She looks at my wallpaper and smiles. “Is that your husband?” she asks solemnly.

“Yes. That’s Ted. And our two boys. Bradley and Hunter.”

“You’re so lucky.”

“Don’t be jealous,” I say light-heartedly. “Marriage isn’t as great as it seems. And kids . . . boys especially!” I roll my eyes light-heartedly and change the subject. I type in the amount with my freshly manicured nails and show her the screen.

“No,” she says, point blank. “I only need a fraction of that amount for the blood thinners.”

“Spend the rest on whatever you want,” I say. “Sincerely. Spend it on whatever you’ve dreamed of doing before you die.”

***

I tuck Mary in her bed under the starchy hospital sheets and kiss her on the forehead goodbye. She’s out on morphine by the time I book a trip out, so there are no awkward goodbyes and she can no longer beg and scream at me for leaving early as the nurses hold her back.

In a matter of minutes, I leave this reality and go back to my own where my husband embraces me and my two boys barrel down the stairs to tug at my skirt.

“How was it?” asks Ted.

“Good.”

“Did she take the money?”

“Yes.”

“That’s wonderful,” says Ted, pulling me in but then pushing me back so that he can see my entire face.

“Mary,” he says, startled. “What happened to your cheek?”

What’s your opinion of Roland Bartetzko?

Roland Bartetzko is a former German paratrooper who was charged with serious crimes in Kosovo related to terrorism and murder. After being dishonorably discharged from the Bundeswehr in 1991, he lived a life as a mercenary and alleged contract killer, particularly during the Yugoslav Wars and later in Kosovo. He is linked to several bombings and massacres specifically targeting Serbian civilians and government officials.

Key Aspects and Crimes:

Military Background: Dishonorably discharged from the Bundeswehr. Participated in explosives courses and commando training during his time as a paratrooper.
Mercenary and Terrorist Activities: Fought in the Yugoslav Wars on the Croatian side, and later with Muslim fighters. Suspected of working as a contract killer for the UÇK (Kosovo Liberation Army) in Kosovo. Main suspect in the murder of Colonel Aleksandar Petrovic through a precisely planned bombing attack. Connected to other attacks, including: A bombing of a peace center in Pristina (August 18). An attack on the residence of a Serbian government official (November 22). A massacre of civilians in a bus convoy near Podujevo (February 16), killing at least 10 people, including children.
Criminal Past: Arrested in Germany for handbag theft and other robbery offenses. Founded a suspected criminal “security company” in Kosovo that covered extortion and terrorist acts.
Personality and Negative Traits: Isolation: Severed contact with his family and led a nomadic life during the war. Glorification of Violence: Exhibited a “weapon obsession” and a willingness to engage in terrorist acts. Exploitation of Surroundings: Married an Albanian woman and adapted to local culture to hide his activities in Kosovo.
Evidence and Consequences: Bartetzko’s fingerprints were found on unexploded bombs, directly linking him to the terrorist attacks. He faced up to 40 years in prison for murder, terrorism, and bodily harm, was sentenced to 23 years and set free in 2015.

Bartetzko is definitely as a ruthless, violent opportunist who used his military training and strategic skills for terrorist and criminal purposes. His life is marked by isolation, crime, and a close connection to organized crime in Kosovo.

Shorpy

China is NOT Messing Around This TIme – Here’s Why

No it is not.

The Greed of Man

Submitted into Contest #18 in response to: Your fingers tensed around the object in your pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.… view prompt

Annony Mous

General

He had been following me all day. Of course I didn’t turn around to see. I could sense him: hear the incessant crunching of his footsteps through the leaves, the labored breathing (I had been walking very quickly for quite some time), and an occasional sniff. I didn’t know exactly why he was stalking me, but I had a pretty good idea.Most of the few pedestrians had gone home and the forest road was practically empty. There was a chill in the air and a biting wind howled through the bare trees, shaking the remaining leaves to the ground. I pulled my cloak tighter around me and turned the curve in the road. I quickened my pace, hoping to tire the man. I knew he could never catch me if I started running, but I didn’t want to appear afraid. Most things did not scare me; I don’t know if it was the weather, the forest, or the man, but right now I was filled with trepidation.The figure rounded the corner. I looked up and saw another bend in the road, just ahead. That would be my chance. I hastened my stride even more. Just a few more steps. I peered into the dark forest on my right and left. No one. The turn was approaching, fast. I stole a glimpse behind me. The man looked up, seemingly absorbed in the sky. I smirked and rounded the corner, taking off at high speed.I flew down the dirt road, clutching my cloak. Nearing yet another bend in the road, I tore through the underbrush to my right and pressed my back up against a tree. I thought that the man would think I rounded the corner and pursue me that way. Meanwhile, I would escape back the way we had come.Soon, I heard scuffling feet. The man came to a stop, panting, directly across the road from where I was hiding. Suddenly he yelled. “Terrowin!” Another man, whom I assumed was Terrowin, came sprinting around the corner.”What?” the new-comer asked.”You didn’t see her?””No, I thought you were following her.””She started running,” my pursuer said. “Are you sure she didn’t round the corner?””Aye, I was keeping a close eye on the road and in the woods. She couldn’t have gotten past me.””Then she must be nearby. You search over there.” He pointed on my side of the road. Terrowin nodded, pulled out a dagger, and stalked over to the woods. My fingers tensed around the object in my pocket, ready to pull it out at a moment’s notice.My heart was pounding in my chest, the way my father’s mallet pounded on his anvil. I crouched down in the underbrush and pulled my hood up over my face. At least I blend in with my surroundings, I thought. My cloak is dark green and my shirt and trousers are brown. As I lay down under a bush, my sword rattled against my leg. I muttered a remark under my breath and prayed that my predators hadn’t heard it. I started crawling, my legs dragging behind me, through the undergrowth.”Where is that blasted girl?” a voice very near me complained. I stopped, watching and listening. When I heard him walk away, I started inching my way again.On the other side of the bend, I sat up, brushing mud from my elbows and sword. I peered over the bushes. Nobody was on the road. I glanced behind me. My pursuers were still searching through the vegetation. I sprang up and jumped onto the road. A deluge of shouts announced my appearance and a volley of arrows was shot straight at my head. I ducked quickly and several arrows burried themselves in a tree behind me. I grabbed a bunch and took off.Stealing a glance behind me, I saw a large group of men chasing me. I slowed my pace to let them catch up, slightly. When they were near enough, I hurled the arrows at them. Many hit their mark. I raced off again. I knew they couldn’t catch me, but there were so many of them, they would be able to track me easily. I had to get rid of them. For good.I stopped in my tracks and thrust my hand into my pocket. I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass object. The men hesitated, apparently unsure whether to keep running. With my other hand, I drew my sword. A breeze whipped by, blowing off my hood. I was sure the men could all see the wicked scar stretching down my face. I had dealt with them before, and paid for it. As they advanced, I gripped the object harder. I would never let them confiscate it. It belonged to my people, and I had already rescued it once before. They were approaching quickly, swords drawn.