Back in the late 1970’s I went to the “Army and Navy” store and was browsing around. And sure, as I tended to do, picked up a few interesting nick nacks. But there in the corner was something that caught my eye.
It was a Chinese “great coat”. Also known as a trench coat.
It was the most amazing thing that I ever owned. There was no way; NO WAY that you would ever get coal wearing this thing. It was something like triple insulated and had multiple pockets, and was awesome.
Now, you guys should know that I didn’t take with me to university, though I should have. And when I went back home, it was nowhere to be found. I guess that my brother must have sold it off. But man, what a great coat.
They are still sold here in China and if and when you come to China, I would suggest you all pick one of them up, as they are awesome. And cheap too!
Awesome!
Today…
We start the day off about a very ducky story and dressing in style.
Quackers
Once upon a time, in a cozy little pond surrounded by tall, swaying reeds, there lived a duck named Quackers. Quackers was no ordinary duck—he had a peculiar fondness for human clothing. Specifically, he adored sweaters. He didn’t know why, but there was something about the soft, warm texture and the way they smelled faintly of laundry soap that made his heart flutter.
One crisp autumn morning, as the leaves turned golden and the air grew chilly, Quackers was paddling around the pond, daydreaming about sweaters. He had seen humans wearing them all around the pond, and he longed to have one of his very own. Just as he was about to dive for a snack of pondweed, he spotted something bright red floating on the water.
Curious, Quackers paddled closer. To his delight, it was a sweater! A perfectly sized, chunky knit, red sweater with tiny white polka dots. It had fallen off a clothesline nearby, and the wind had carried it to the pond. Quackers’ eyes sparkled with excitement. He waddled onto a nearby rock, spread his wings, and carefully slipped the sweater over his head.
The sweater fit him perfectly, and it was so warm and cozy that Quackers couldn’t stop preening. He strutted around the pond, showing off his new attire to his fellow ducks. “Quack-quack!” he exclaimed proudly, as if to say, “Look at me! I’m the most stylish duck in the pond!”
The other ducks were initially confused but quickly grew envious of Quackers’ bold fashion choice. Soon, the entire flock was following him around, hoping to learn the secret to his confidence. Quackers, ever the trendsetter, taught them how to preen properly and strut with flair.
That winter, the pond was filled with ducks in sweaters of all colors—blue, green, even a few striped ones. Quackers had started a movement, and the humans who came to the pond couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a flock of ducks dressed in cozy knitwear.
From that day on, Quackers was known far and wide as the Duck of Style. And every time he waddled by the pond, he gave a little quack of joy, knowing that his love for sweaters had brought warmth—both to his heart and to the hearts of everyone who saw him.
The end. 🦆🧶
Is it possible for another country to overtake the United States economically, politically, or militarily in the future?
Yes it has been done successfully by China! If you don’t see it because you are blind, deaf or plainly dumb it doesn’t meant it is not happening!
Sure China cannot do shit 10 thousand miles from its shores but China don’t plan to do so!
In per parity purchasing power China is at least 150% bigger than the USA, in political influence China has 170/195 nations on earth fully supporting them.
The U.S. has 4–5 slave vassal states, 3 fellow native slaughtering nationals and 7–8 despicable colonial masters, and some 4–5 tiny Russian eye poking nations.
As their staunch supporters! Militarily China has more war ships; tanks, fighter jets, drones, missiles and army than the USA and it can give the U.S. such a big hiding that it will never be e same again!
How did your marriage end?
My husband left me, and my friend left her husband for my husband one weekend. I had only just met her husband a few days prior, but she obviously had a history with my husband. In the wake of the sudden changes, I offered her husband a place to stay since he was in a difficult situation. We both realized our exes weren’t going to file for divorce, so we took the initiative ourselves. My friend, being Catholic, struggled with the idea of divorce, while my husband expressed regret over his decision. However, we both knew what we wanted and confidently said NO to reconciling. We were beginning to really like each other. Once our divorces were finalized, we married—and now, after 46 years, we’re still happily together.
Gaucho Grill Sandwich
Yield: 12 servings
Ingredients
- 1 cup cilantro, chopped, divided
- 3/4 cup lime juice, divided
- 3/4 cup parsley, fresh, chopped, divided
- 3 cups Wish-Bone Italian Dressing, divided
- 4 tablespoons garlic, minced
- 4 1/2 pounds skirt steaks
- 24 slices sourdough bread, toasted
- 36 slices tomatoes, sliced
- 24 slices red onions, sliced
Instructions
- To make the marinade for the skirt steaks, combine 1/2 cup of the cilantro, 1/2 cup of the lime juice, 1/4 cup of the parsley, and 2 cups of the Wish-Bone Dressing. Hold refrigerated.
- To make the sauce, combine the remaining 1/2 cup cilantro, 1/4 cup lime juice, 1/2 cup parsley, 1 cup Wish-Bone Italian Dressing, and the garlic. Hold refrigerated.
- Marinate the skirt steaks in the reserved marinade for 2 hours.
- Drain, grill until medium rare, and slice thinly.
- To assemble each sandwich, mound 4 ounces of the steak onto 1 slice of the sourdough. Top with 3 slices of tomato, 2 slices red onion, 2 tablespoons of the sauce, and the remaining slice of bread.
China’s New J 40 stealth fighter jet, this aircraft is a true the best sixth generation fighter jet!
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For a departed soul
Submitted into Contest #150 in response to: Write a story that either starts or ends with someone (or something) saying, “Please, don’t do it.”… view prompt
Jincy P Janardhanan
His life seemed so little. He had indeed lived for long – past seventy – so why should anyone worry? The closest of kith and kin could say he had lived long enough and had died content. He had a little smile on his face as he was lying down, waiting for his last respects. So why should I worry? I don’t know really. I had never known him all my life, anyway. And I’ll never know him again.
He had a chance, didn’t he? Why did everyone let him die? After all, it’s a life. Doesn’t it mean anything? You feel for the birds that often come by your house, but you didn’t feel for your husband? Why is anybody talking, really? Why is everyone here, everyone who didn’t think of him when he was alive? I’m sorry my brother, I can’t stand this. You were his son, yet you let him down too. You must have been his last hope, but you failed. Literally, anyone in this room could have demanded to save him and do the surgery to keep him alive – yet no one did. Why did he have to die that way?
He had four brothers and two sisters, and all of them were there, beside his dead body. But none of you was there for him, as he lay waiting for his death in the ICU for three days. He was silent, but he could still hear and feel, right? I wish he never heard any of your thoughts aloud.
Dear uncle, I’ll never know you. I hope you might’ve loved me even if you had never visited me. I hope you wished no ill will. I don’t believe in afterlives, but if you had more wishes, I wish they get fulfilled even in your absence. I pray to the Almighty that your soul shall rest in peace. Amen.
I couldn’t bear it. Was it pain? I don’t know. I only felt this helplessness, this belittlement of life and death right before me. It was choking me. Tears flowed relentlessly as I struggled for breath through my closed lips and dry throat. I couldn’t face anybody and I tried to look small – hugging my feet and covering my tear-stained face with my hand as I stared at a dusty corner of the room that no one noticed. I ran for life when my sister-in-law said we could take rest somewhere inside – I didn’t know what I was thinking. I had to let it all out.
My silent screams echoed in the bedroom as I hugged on to my sister for dear life, away from the shroud and the dead body. I took many deep breaths and looked through the window. Everything was silent. My body felt numb. I was a machine, learning. I’ll never know how many trials it will take for me to learn this new algorithm of life.
There are only a few steps here.
You’re an innocent child but you grow up into an adult. You’re young and you work hard to make a fortune. You build a family to spend all that fortune. You become poor and old till nobody wants you. You die.
I wish there was an element of love somewhere in the loop – there is none. History repeats. It’s money that rules the world and it’s rooted in the families. I remembered my dad. He’s a veteran and his fault? He had two girl children. He spent all his money on the dear house his father had built for their family in the olden days. He got himself a few blocks in his heart. So now he’s poor, unhealthy and father to two girls – Why should anyone want him anymore? And he was out of his home – the same home that he dreamt of sharing a part with all his brothers and their families.
Does that ring a bell? Look around and check your roots. Look at the outcasts and check the crimes that got ’em off their family trees. It’s history, and it repeats. It’s the same everywhere. It’s an infinite loop – the kind that never meets its exit condition.
That’s when I thought of some outliers in this history of the world – some of the biggest and richest families that every born child would know. There should have been some mistake, some kind of bug that occasionally breaks this code and that loop exits in an error 500. I saw my mom – I smiled, I know what that bug is.
I started thinking, hard. I’m a developer and I’m about to start my Masters in Computer Science next year. What else should I invest in, if not in making an AI that increases this bug in families and breaks the infinite loop in history? I can’t wait. Now I know my project and purpose.
She rose from her seat and washed her face several times until she was sure that no one would see her tears again. She tried putting on a smile – it was hard. She thought now she was brave enough to face the reality and looked out of her hiding place. There they were – her little cousins, too innocent to not know the weight of that shrouded body in the front room. She rushed to them, hugged them both and sat in-between them, holding their hands. They’ve come from afar upon notice of the death in our family. They didn’t know this place and were looking at different things curiously. My seven-year-old brother asks, “Are they rich?”. I was at a loss of words.
I wish I could one day make an AI that stops feeding little brains the philosophy of rich versus poor, black versus white, and girl versus boy, and instead teach the philosophy of seeing people as just fellow human beings, full of life. I should probably work in education. Maybe then I could make an algorithm that learns the loop of love and whenever a little friend tries to call someone ugly, my AI would whisper in his ears, “Please, don’t do it”.
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Is the Chinese board game Go the same as American chess?
First of all, Chess isn’t American.
The origin of Chess can be traced back to India all the way back to the 7 century CE. From there it was picked up by the Persians and then spread throughout Muslim worlds and then introduced to Southern Europe.
Go is very different from Chess.
In Chess, white goes first; in Go, black goes first.
Chess have different types of pieces, each piece has a different movement. The chess game started with a board of all the pieces, and as the game progress, the pieces move around according to the rules, and pieces are removed from the board.
Go has 1 type of piece. Once placed on the board, the piece can not move. The game started with an empty board, with players placing their pieces on the board.
The goal of Chess is to take your opponent’s pieces until you can take their King.
The goal of Go is to take territories of your enemy. Each player places their pieces trying to “surround” other player’s pieces. Unlike Chess, where “checkmate” is considered a win, different countries have slightly different rules to define the winning state of a Go game.
Go is more complicated than Chess.
Neave.TV
A curated collection of live streams and video loops from around the world. It’s like a digital aquarium or a window into different cultures and environments.
Neave TVHere’s some of the content…
Man Discovers GF Is Cheating With Her Ex, So He Packs Up Her Stuff & Dumps It On His Lawn
How has Taiwan survived and thrived while being constantly threatened with military attack by China?
Because from 1949 to 1970s, Taiwan was the side that was threatening war with Chinese mainland. Taiwan had the better navy and airforce, and conducted blocade of the Chinese coast, raiding and hijacking Chinese civilian ships, invading China’s airspace with spy planes and occasionally fighters and bombers. It was official national policy of the Republic of China (Taiwan) to stay ready for WWIII, when it would retake mainland China, Mongolia, and by this map, invade the Soviet Union, too.
From 1978 to 1995, Deng Xiaoping decided WWIII was not happening any time soon, so China cut back on military, to focus on economic development.
That’s why China was caught completely unprepared militarily, when the 1996 Taiwanese election happened, when Taiwan started pushing for separation from China, and the Americans blocked the Taiwan Strait with their carriers, cutting off potential Chinese take-over.
At the time, the Chinese response to the carriers was this:
It was 2008 when China fielded its first domestically produced 3rd generation fighter, the J10, an equivalent to the F-16. Taiwan had much more modern military equipmeny back then.
It was after the 2010s when Chinese mainland started to surpass Taiwan in terms of military equipment. That’s a very recent development.
Breaking down the ‘China Collapse’ theory with Jeffrey Sachs
If most urban planners are YIMBYs, why is it so hard to get high density, walkable cities in the U.S., U.K., Australia, etc.?
The HUGE problem with having walkable cities in the US is climate.
Everywhere in the US south of that red line occupies the same latitudes as The Sahara in Africa. We certainly don’t get as hot as The Sahara does, but it does get quite hot, and until you get very far west of Missouri, pretty darned humid, too.
From May until some time in September or even October, all you have to do in the southern US to break into a good sweat is just go stand outside for 5 or 10 minutes. Few outside the labor class are willing to subject themselves to that if they don’t have to.
Fun fact. Prior to the advent of air conditioning, Washington, D.C. was considered a hardship posting for foreign diplomats on account of the heat and humidity there during the summer months. Even NYC can get quite unpleasant in July and August.
The majority (supply your own “not all” like Rome, Barcelona, etc) of walkable cities in Europe are at least as far north as Paris and Vienna (and there are a lot of those). In all of North America, there are only 8 cities of any size that far north – Seattle and Anchorage in the US; the rest are in Canada, along the US border.
We don’t have walkable cities in the US because the weather for a solid half the year is just abysmal.
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Trump nominated 10 billionaires so far. How much do you think they will care about young men with high school diplomas?
They will care for their fellow Americans in the same way that healthcare insurance company CEOs care for their customers.
Does it really matter who the U.S. president is?
No, because US decline is systemic, and has been brought about by the US’s failure to invest in it own education, manufacturing and transport infrastructure over the past 40 years since Reagan.
Reversing this policy would require a long-term commitment and strategy which would take at least 20 years before it would show results.
The issue is that the American people do not have the patience for a long-term strategy, and the federal government does not have the tools to implement this strategy. State governments do not have the access to finance to implement a 20-year strategy.
For this reason, it makes no difference who is president. In practical terms, this means that the presidential elections are mostly a debate about how the deck chairs on the Titanic should be arranged after it has hit the iceberg.
There can be no change unless the form of government changes, and that is unlikely to happen.
How did the Chinese react to their century of humiliation which made them different from other countries which were colonized by the west?
When it was over, the Chinese were resolutely determined to NEVER let this happen again. They worked hard to make China strong, economically and militarily. They resolutely vowed to hold onto Taiwan, which is the last remaining reminder of China’s century of humiliation.
Mission accomplished. Today, China has the largest and strongest economy in the world. China surpassed the USA by PPP in 2014. China is the largest trading partner to over 120 countries.
China is the world’s sole industrial superpower. The USA doesn’t even come close.
China has the largest and strongest military in the world. It has the largest army. It has the largest navy. It has the most advanced stealth fighters and hypersonic missiles. The US military has been in decline for decades; the USA hides this fact well.
China is fully prepared to fight for Taiwan, should it foolishly decide to secede. Taiwan’s military is no match.
Check and mate.
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The Vase of N’Hahn
Submitted into Contest #150 in response to: Write a story that either starts or ends with someone (or something) saying, “Please, don’t do it.”… view prompt
Seán McNicholl
There she stood: the Vase of N’Hahn.
Jack wanted her. Jack had to have her.
He had never been more certain of any fact in his life. He must have her. His mind, within the breadth of a moment, had been totally stolen. His imagination was filled with her red and ruby complexion. She was all he could see.
The bidding began.
“Please don’t do it”, muttered his friends but he ignored them.
Hands were raised, calls were shouted out. Higher and higher it rose. Jack matched every bid until it was just he and a fellow rival who was perched on the far side of the room. His hand, Jack’s hand, his hand, Jack’s hand. Higher and higher.
People close to the rival could see the beads of sweat starting to form on the poor mans brow, each bead accounted for by a raise of the hand. A small stream ran quickly down his forehead and wetted his deep brown eyes. He blinked it away.
Jack’s hand went up. The rival hesitated. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his brow. A victorious, self-serving grin broke across Jack’s face. He knew he had the man broke. It might take a few more bids but the vase was his and his alone.
Surely, just as he thought, the man raised his hand twice more before giving in.
The beast within Jack roared.
****
He ushered them in, demanding more so than imploring them to be careful. The two men grunted in assent as they broke the doorway, each carrying the end of a brown wooden crate; “Fragile” decorating it on all sides.
“Follow me”, uttered Jack quickly as though the proximity of the men to that which he loved was repulsive to him.
“In here, in here!”, as he led them into the back room, which he had dubbed ‘The Study’, though study had never taken place within its walls.
Large mahogany bookshelves did stand upon three of the walls, with many unread books collecting the dust that sifted through the room. The fourth wall held the window which looked into the back garden. A towering hedge with ageing leaves obscured any view, which delighted Jack, as that meant no one could see in. No one could peer at her without him knowing or inviting.
As a result the room lay draped in shadows which scurried to the corners as soon as the door was opened and from the corners the shadows watched; watched the the men lay the box on the floor; watched as the men pried the box open and listened as Jack whimpered anxiously; watched as she was set upon the rich brown centre table which lay barren.
Jack dismissed the men without a word of thanks and followed them out, ensuring the front door was locked.
He had her alone. That which he had longed for. That which he had loved since first he saw her.
A chill of nerves ran across him. What was he to do now?
He tip toed back to the doorway and peer in.
There she sat, as beautiful as ever. Her redness more ruby in the dim, her ruby now appearing black. He admired her for a time from the doorway before moving closer.
Then he admired her from the tables edge, drinking in every curve and every line.
The shadows watched on.
With trembling hands he reached for her and felt her cool, smooth skin beneath his fingers.
She was flawless.
In his hands she even seemed to glow. The dim moved back and the shadows hid behind the bookcases.
He stared at her longingly, lovingly.
He had her.
*****
The chatter patted around the living room gaily. Spirits were high but none so much as Jack’s. He felt lighter than the air he was breathing. He floated from conversation to conversation, out to the kitchen to bring more tea and then back again, never letting his feet be marred by the cold ground on which everyone stood. He was above them all.
“So, when can we see it?”, a female voice enquired. A murmur of assent passed amongst them and rose up to meet Jack on his high.
“Now, I suppose, if you wish to”, he said offhandedly as though he couldn’t care less about it, though deep within himself the fire of his pride was stoked, and the bellows of attention inflamed him evermore.
He led the small troupe out across the hall to the back room, to the study.
It’s door stood magnanimous before them. The large key protruded from its home awaiting its turn. Jack kept his back to them but smiled to himself as he reached for the key, his anticipation for their approval superseded even their anticipation for seeing her. They had all heard so much about her, and if their dear friend was in love with it so much, it meant a great deal to them.
The door swung silently on its hinges. The shadows that were pawing over the vase scuttled a retreat again to the corners and eyed the strangers warily.
The troupe made their advance, falling in line behind their beloved friend.
Wordlessly he gestured to her sitting on the table. They gathered round and looked on.
Their eyes sat on her for a few moments before flickering between each other, no one wanting to speak. From somewhere beyond the shadows awkwardness presented itself, quietly resting its arms on the shoulders of all in the room. Jack felt it.
“What?” He asked impetuously, “what is it?”
Silence greeted him. Awkwardness waved at him.
“It’s nice”, came a single voice from a face with hazel eyes and a few nodded along.
“Nice!?”, he bemoaned, “Nice!? Can’t you see? Can’t you appreciate her?”
The two friends, Silence and Awkwardness, conversed together once again.
Jacks blood ran red, red like her skin that sat on the table.
“Well then”, he restrained quietly, “if you can’t appreciate her then I suggest you leave”.
Voices attempted to make reparation, proclaiming previously withheld praise, but it was to no avail. It was obvious this was mere flattery and falsehood.
A voice of reason broke rank, it’s tone a steely blue.
“A lot of money for something shabby”.
Jack flew to rage and embraced the passion, engulfing it within his chest.
“Shabby?! She is beautiful! Flawless! The image of perfection sits before you but you are all too blind to see it!”
Jack’s arms gesticulated wildly whilst some blue eyes rolled and other looked skeptically at one another.
“Get out!” Jack roared, “get out if you can’t see!”, and the disgruntled and wounded crowd made their way beyond the hallway.
Soon he was left alone with her, just he and her and the dim. The snap of the door shutting broke the stillness. His heart settled and his breathing steadied. The tempest had past.
He stood alone with her, gazing at her for some time. Gradually and almost unnoticed, like a tide encroaching upon the shore, a sense of unease washed over him and soon he was drowning in it. He felt unworthy to be here with her, how could his eyes look upon her beauty? She deserved the quietness and the solitude, where only the shadows could fondle and caress her. He turned abruptly and left the room, stealing one last glance before the door shut and the key turned.
******
Many months had passed but his mind still lingered on her.
During fits of passion where he could not control himself he found himself peering through that small keyhole, if only to glimpse her perfection. He never dared open the door. How could he? How could he allow himself to see such beauty? How could he be so arrogant? So selfish?
She deserved reverence, idolatry, not to be gawked at and pawed at by someone a lowly as himself. No, he never allowed himself to use her like that. How could he? He loved her.
Jack often sat thinking about her, though his face never showed it. He held the same look as if he we pondering a puzzle or enjoying a book. Within his mind he sat in a fog, her image clouding his every thought.
And it was just this expression he held whilst he sat outside the small cafe, awaiting his coffee.
The waitress smiled at him as she laid it before him.
“Good morning sir?” She asked politely.
“There are many things good about it I suppose”, he replied genially.
“The weather is certainly one”, she answered.
For it had been an exceptionally good week given the season, and this morning the sun was freely bathing itself within a blue ocean above, with not a captive cloud to be seen.
The waitress smiled once again and disappeared back within the dark cafe.
Jack sipped his coffee but the taste did not arouse him. Nothing did anymore. Not since he had seen her. The world had slipped into a lesser dimension since and only in his dreams, when he held he once again, did anything stir him.
Even that sun sitting within a cloudless sky seemed grey. For all he was aware it could have been a miserable November day.
He sipped again and breathed deeply.
His mind attempted to return to her but he struggled. The fog within his mind had thinned somewhat and was rolling like an early morning mist.
He breathed deeply again. Thinner and thinner, as though the sun was burning it off as he sat.
He stirred deep within himself.
Something was in the air. Something was dogging his mind and awakening his senses.
He breathed again.
There was a scent, a richly sweet scent that the air carried to him.
“How strange”, he thought to himself as he sipped the coffee, his tastebud tingling.
The fog dissipated entirely. Calmness and peace lightly breezes over him.
He threw his eyes to the sky and squinted at the sun. It was certainly a good morning.
The smell strengthened around him and he sat contently within it.
His eyes fell across the road and amidst the purple spots that now marred his vision he saw the source of his peace; a flower shop with blooming pink roses littering its open windows.
He languidly finished his coffee, paid and sauntered across the road in his new reality.
The scent intensified as he approached and he smiled.
“Peony roses, sir”, the dumply lady in an apron said to him, her blue eyes beaming. “Tough as old boots, they are, can survive frost, flood and drought”.
Jack nodded and handed over the required amount, lifting the pot and plant and taking the scent home with him.
He found a home for the rose amongst the barren flower bed that rose up beyond his bedroom window and soon the rose was planted in her new home.
When Jack awoke in the mornings his mind was filled with her scent. As he looked out the window there she sat against a sky blue backdrop. Every moment of his life was now filled with the scent of the rose and the joy she brought with her
The scent spread itself across the house, into every nook and cranny. Nowhere was left untouched by her influence.
Everywhere except the back room.
Jack stood before the door. The key protruding from the lock. He waited.
A chill of fear ran through him, but for what reason he could not say.
He breathed deeply and once more the rose filled him, every inch of him and his fear was quelled.
The door swung noiselessly once again and the shadows bid their retreat.
Jack walked to the brown table and looked down.
There she sat.
No dust touched her, no mark spoiled her, yet she sat changed.
Her red glow was dimmed to a rustic brown.
Her skin showed cracks and flaws he had not seen before.
The dim no longer retreated from her.
There she sat, cold and lifeless.
“Very nice”, said the lady who had entered behind him.
She paid her money, lifted the vase and left the house.
Jack stood by the table and breathed deeply once again. The scent of joy all around him.
Grilled Mexican Chicken Sandwiches
Yield: 4 open-faced sandwiches
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 teaspoons chili powder
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne (optional)
- 4 boneless chicken breasts
- 1 1/2 cups Mexican cheese blend
- 1/3 cup mayonnaise
- 4 slices sourdough bread
- 1/2 cup chunky salsa
Instructions
- In a small bowl, combine oil, garlic, chili powder, and cayenne. Using a rubber spatula, spread mixture over both sides of the chicken.
- Prepare grill. Grill chicken until juices run clear.
- Combine 1 cup of the cheese blend and the mayonnaise; mix well. Toast bread on edge of grill, turn. Spread toasted side of the bread evenly with cheese/mayonnaise mix. Grill, cheese side up, 2 more minutes or until cheese begins to melt.
- Place a piece of chicken on toasted cheese bread and top with salsa. Sprinkle with remaining cheese
A nice story about turtles
Once upon a time, in the murky swamps of the bayou, a group of turtles and alligators decided to have a race. The turtles, known for their slow and steady pace, had a clever idea: they would ride on the backs of the alligators to speed up the race. The alligators, proud of their strength and speed, agreed, thinking it would be a fun challenge.
The day of the race arrived, and the swamp was alive with excitement. The turtles climbed onto the backs of the alligators, each pair forming a team. The starting line was marked by a tall cypress tree, and the finish line was a shimmering lagoon on the other side of the swamp.
The race began with a loud splash. The alligators surged forward, their powerful tails propelling them through the water. The turtles, perched on their backs, held on tight, their little legs dangling as they cheered each other on.
The alligators were fast, but they were also competitive. Some of them tried to outmaneuver their opponents, weaving through the water and cutting corners. The turtles, however, had a different strategy. They noticed that the alligators were so focused on winning that they weren’t paying attention to the path ahead.
As the race progressed, the turtles spotted a hidden shortcut. It was a narrow channel that led directly to the lagoon, but it was tricky to navigate. The turtles whispered to their alligator partners, suggesting they take the shortcut. Most of the alligators ignored them, too confident in their own speed.
But one team, a wise old turtle named Shelldon and his alligator partner, Gator, listened. Shelldon had a reputation for being clever and resourceful. When he suggested the shortcut, Gator hesitated but decided to trust him.
As the other alligators continued on their straight path, Gator veered off into the narrow channel. The water was shallow, and the channel was filled with obstacles—branches, rocks, and even a few hungry-looking fish. But Shelldon guided Gator through it all, using his sharp eyes to spot the safest route.
Meanwhile, the other alligators were making good progress, but they were also getting tired. Their competitive nature had pushed them too hard, and they were starting to slow down.
When Gator and Shelldon emerged from the shortcut, they were ahead of the pack. The lagoon was in sight, and the finish line was just a few feet away. With a final burst of speed, Gator crossed the line, and Shelldon leaped off his back, landing triumphantly in the water.
The other alligators and turtles arrived shortly after, exhausted but impressed. They realized that Shelldon’s cleverness and Gator’s trust in him had won the race. The turtles celebrated their victory, and the alligators, though they had lost, couldn’t help but admire the unique way the turtles had outsmarted them.
From that day on, the turtles and alligators continued to race, but they always remembered the lesson they had learned: sometimes, the best way to win isn’t by being the fastest, but by being the smartest. And Shelldon, the clever old turtle, became a legend in the swamp, known for his ability to turn even the slowest pace into a winning strategy.
Genesis II (1973)
I’ve got a BIG (happy) surprise for you all. This is the full movie. It is a Science Fiction movie that was made for televisions, and that I haven’t seen since the mid-1970’s. I thought that it was lost for all eternity.
WARNING: the host of the YouTube Channel interrupts the movie from time to time with some cheesy narratives. Sorry. But, still the entire movie is presented here.
This script was written by Gene Roddenberry who was THE guy to started the Star Trek franchise, and stars the guy who starred in the Stanley Kubrick movie “A Space Odyssey”.
It takes place in a world that exists after world war 3.
And I have NEVER forgotten some of the scenes such as the “pleasure stems”, and the “NUKE BATT POW” and “EMERG DECOM” scene.
A well forgotten classic and is a great lazy Saturday background watch. Have some fun you all. -MM
In a post-apocalyptic future, NASA scientist Dylan Hunt awakens from suspended animation into a world torn apart by a global conflict.
As he navigates this desolate landscape, he encounters PAX, a society dedicated to preserving knowledge and rebuilding civilization.
However, his ideals clash with the group's strict pacifist principles as he faces off against the powerful Tyranians.
This 1973 science fiction film created by Gene Roddenberry explores themes of survival, morality, and the struggle to rebuild a fractured world.
Hi there, too bad,
Most of the movies today are made unavailable…
Have to look them up somewhere else, at least the Genesis II.
Best regards and have nice day!
Sigh. Expect more of this, increasing over time. -MM