I’ve been a dreaming about Waffle House.
From Wikipedia;
Waffle House, Inc. is an American restaurant chain with over 1,900 locations in 25 states in the United States.[4] The bulk of the locations are in the Midwest and especially the South, where the chain is a regional cultural icon.[5] The menu consists mainly of Southern breakfast food.[6] Waffle House is headquartered in Norcross, Georgia, in the Atlanta metropolitan area.[7]
Waffle House is sort of the “McDonald’s of breakfast restaurants” in the United States. Instead of providing “fast food” it provides basic egg breakfasts and coffee.
These restaurants are clean, well lit, and open all the time; 24-7.
I used to go in and get two eggs, over easy with rye toast and chicken-fried steak and gravy. Of course, with a great cup of coffee.
Ah. Not the best meal, but a fine comfort meal.
And you know, every now and then I could really use a fine comfort meal.
Don’t you know.
Waffle House Jonesin’ that’s MM today.
In honor of something that I cannot get at the moment…
Waffle House, a visit to the United States is NOTHING unless you have a meal at the Waffle House.
Today…
Bacon and Tomato Pasta
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Ingredients
- 2 tablespoons kosher salt
- 16 ounces spaghetti pasta
- 1 pound thick-cut bacon or pancetta, chopped
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 cup red onion, diced
- 1 teaspoon red chili flakes
- 3 tablespoons garlic, minced
- 2 cups Roma tomatoes, diced
- 1/4 cup red wine
- 4 tablespoons basil, chiffonade
- 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- In a large stock pot, boil 3 quarts of water, when boiling add 2 tablespoons kosher salt and the pasta and cook until the pasta is al dente.
- In a large sauté pan over medium heat, add bacon and sauté until bacon is crispy. Remove bacon to drain on a paper towel-lined plate and remove 3/4 of the bacon fat from the pan.
- Add extra-virgin olive oil, onions, and red chili flakes. Cook until onions are translucent, add garlic, cook for 2 minutes then add tomatoes. Sauté for 5 minutes, then deglaze with wine.
- Drain pasta and add to the tomato mixture pan. Add basil and bacon. Toss with Parmesan, and add salt and pepper, to taste.
Will jobs that moved to China be brought back to the US as President Trump promised?
My friend’s company is producing a product and they use a factory in China to make it. They have had some really annoying issues come up with the factory. For example the factory doesn’t follow the specs and communication is challenging. Most recently the product got stopped by customs and that was a big headache. I asked my friend why they don’t just use an American factory to build what they need. His answer, it costs FIVE TIMES more to have a factory here do the exact same work. The company is a small start up with a tight budget, they simply cannot afford to work with US manufacturers. I don’t see what President Trump could possibly do to change that reality.
Have you ever accidentally found out that you were about to be fired?
Long story…. Reads like a soap opera… but 100% real.
I worked for a small city police department. I was rapidly climbing the chain for a promotion to detective. There was one other officer also in the running. We got along together but we had different personalities and abilities. His biggest advantage being he was very affable while mine was being dogged. Another bit of important information is that the Chief Detective’s father was also the Mayor of the city and the Chief of Police reported directly to him.
One day I respond to a call involving a woman (heroin addict) who had previously been indicted for extorting an old man. The court had issued an order for the woman to not have any contact with the man while the case was pending. The man’s family brought a voice-mail recording of the woman calling the old man. When I went to speak to her, I found her apartment door open and furniture overturned. Thinking the woman was possibly endangered, I entered the apartment to check her safety only to find nobody home. As I excited the apartment, the woman was found running through the back yard of the complex to the back door of her apartment. After speaking to the woman and finding she was not endangered and also after warning her about contacting the old man, I cleared the scene and returned to the police department. The next day, I’m informed the woman filed s complaint against me for entering her apartment without a warrant. I speak to the Chief of Police and advise him of the exigent circumstances and everything appears to be resolved.
A week later, in working a weekend and the Chief of Police calls me on station. I’m betting served disciplinary papers for “dishonesty” which carries a 3 day suspension. I refuse to sign the disciplinary papers and tell the Chief I haven’t lied about anything and request a hearing on the matter. The Chief tries to negotiate with me to accept a 1 day suspension instead of 3 to which I refuse since I haven’t lied. The following Monday, the Mayor (remember he’s the Chief Detective’s father) meets with me. He decides the complaint against me was unprovable but that since he found a spelling error on my report involving the heroin addict contacting the old man, he is changing the complaint against me to a simple warning for paperwork error.
A month later, two officers get into an argument while I’m the shift supervisor. One of the officers is a female who has a history of having sex with other officers. After calling everyone down and thinking the issue between them had passed, a week later in told a complaint had been filed against me and the make officer who was arguing with the female officer. I’m told the complaint is “bullying” the female officer.
A week later, the Chief calls me into his office to serve me disciplinary papers claiming the bullring complaint was warranted. As I read the disciplinary papers, I notice the Chief Detective conducted the investigation against me. I chuckle and ask the Chief how the Chief Detective could be unbiased since it was common knowledge he was sleeping with the female officer. A week later, my discipline was changed to a paperwork error warning (to which there wasn’t one) at the direction of the Mayor.
It was then that I began to really question what was happening and the apparent bullseye on my back. I began looking for a new job while hoping I could weather the apparent storm that was brewing for me.
A month later, I’m told a different female drug addict in town had filed a complaint against me claiming I had propositioned her for sex. I was confident I could dispute the claim but it was apparent something was occurring to try to get me fired. I ended up getting another job offer that week and turned in my resignation. I was then told the woman had withdrawn her complaint.
Fast forward 3 years……
I’m happily working for a different agency and making a lot more money while enjoying my casework. The female officer has since been fired and charged with altering presciptions. I hear through the grapevine the Chief Detective is being investigated for multiple crimes. The investigation takes almost a year but he resigned, loses his police certification, and is charged with a misdemeanor. The Chief of Police is fired for failing to supervise.
I end up reading a copy of the investigation of the Chief Detective and find mention that another officer came forward with information that the female officer had confessed to requesting the Chief Detective try to get me fired in exchange for sexual favors. It was also insinuated the Chief Detective had paid the woman to make the allegation I had propositioned her.
In the end. I’m the only one still employed while 2 of the 3 who conspired against me now have criminal records.
PEPE ESCOBAR: RUSSIA & NATO ON BRINK OF ALL-OUT WAR AND PUTIN ISN’T BLUFFING
Have you ever discovered a hidden danger within your home that you were previously unaware of? If so, how did you address it?
Oh, yeah!
Several years ago, on a Saturday morning, I had just gotten out of the shower. I noticed that I had an unusually fast drip in my bathroom sink. So rather than waiting to get dressed, I put on some slippers and went into my attached garage for some tools to fix the drip.
I grabbed what I needed then tried to open the door to my house. But it was locked!
I knew immediately what had happened. I’d had a guest the previous day who had left through my garage. He’d apparently thought he was helping me by locking the door between my house and the garage as he was leaving.
Bad idea!
So there I was, stark naked (expect for my slippers), and locked out of my house.
My only option, it seemed, was to go outside, break a window, and crawl through the opening. But aside from the embarrassment of walking outside, in a busy neighborhood, starkers, I couldn’t see myself dragging my fat, 70-year-old body through a broken window with jagged glass everywhere.
Bad idea!
So with no other ideas in mind, I started to look through my toolchest to see what I could find. Finally, I found a flat prybar that I’d never used. I wondered if I could slip it between the door and the door jam, and then lever it to open a space between them, a space wide enough for me to slide a screwdriver in front of the locking mechanism, which would allow me to open the door.
So I gave it a try. And after my third or fourth desperate attempt, it worked!
And then, after getting dressed and fixing my sink, I hid a spare key in my garage. It’s so cluttered that no one will ever find that key.
And never again have I gone into my garage wearing only my slippers!
Alien – 1950’s Super Panavision 70 AI Film
What’s it like to be a member of the Triad?
My involvement began in high school. There was nothing dramatic about it, I just became friends with a bunch of people I thought were cool and one thing led to another.
High school gangs are like triad training schools. They are not part of the triads per se, they’re more of a triad Mickey Mouse fan club where a group of young wannabes strut around pretending to be something they’re not. You’d be surprised at just how many of these there are.
The leaders of these high school gangs are usually affiliated with a low ranking triad member, called a 49 in triad lexicon. These are the foot soldiers. The 49 functions as big brother whose help the boys would call on in case of trouble, but big brother is also a scout who kept an eye out for promising young talent.
I must’ve seemed like one, because I was soon introduced to the 49er’s tailou (big brother), who was also a 49er. We met a few times at a local disco, snorted cocaine, gargled ketamine, popped ecstasy, and soon he trusted me enough to put me in charge of a few high-school gangs.
The triads are structured like a MLM scheme. At the lower levels, the more followers you recruit, the more powerful you become, the higher up you climb. The people above your rank are referred to as tailou or ____ ko which means elder brother, and your followers are referred to as DauGei, or children.
It’s all about the organization. So we organized.
We recruited the same way ISIS and Al Qaeda does: by giving disaffected and disenfranchised young men a sense of belonging. We start off by convincing the kids that we were cool by bringing them alcohol, drugs and other illicit goods. Then when they have issues they’d come to us for help and we’d help them. Many of the kids I recruited were bullied in school and looking for some revenge, and we’d give the kid’s bully a thorough trashing.
Some of the kids would naively come to see us as these cool guys who were looking out for them, and they’d seek to be a part of our circle. Once we got the kids on hooked on the illusion of brotherhood and coolness, they’re ours to keep. And they’ll bring their friends as well.
We went around the schools settling petty disputes such as who stole whose girlfriend – at the high school level, everything is petty- , and we enforced pax triadica with our fists. We demanded discipline from our members, and if one of our own went out of line we’d beat him up ourselves. We were a group of young bullies with our own set of rules and standards of behaviour. My recruits unwittingly traded one bully in school, for circle of friends who bullied one another.
From petty disputes we graduated on to settling disputes between local businesses. Unlicensed bars, moneylenders and illegal gambling dens would pay us a set fee, and in return we’d step in if they have problems. The money was terrible, but for a young kid, having adults and business owners turn to you for help is a huge ego trip.
I was able to grow the organization effectively because I understood the principles of peer pressure and groupthink. So if you’re a parent, I would advise you to obsess over who your teenager is hanging out with; there are many manipulators like me out there.
I must’ve been a pretty good recruiter, because the boss took me under his wing and introduced me to his boss, Suen Ko. Suen Ko was a hung kwan, or a mid-level lieutenant in the triad hierarchy. This is where I started to get involved with the actual organization. We had a short initiation ceremony in a karaoke room, and I became a 49 under Suen Ko.
Suen Ko owned a few nightclubs and bars, and virtually every night we’d be in one of his fine establishments drinking, partying, and partaking in every drug we could get our hands on. Our sort attracted a certain sort of girl, and there were girls aplenty. The bars were a money maker, but Suen Ko’s real money came from selling bootleg CDs.
At the time, bootleg CDs and eventually DVDs were an organized crime gold rush. This was before napster and way before bittorrent, and demand was so high that we filled up entire shopping malls with outlets selling pirated movies, music and software. A common joke was that if Bill Gates ever visited our malls, he’d have a heart attack on the spot.
For about 5 cents in costs for a blank CD, we sold the end product to the consumer for 15 local bucks a pop. Not even cocaine had that kind of margin. We were selling the bootlegs as fast as we could print them, and best of all piracy was perceived by the local cops as a low-impact crime and as such wasn’t rigorously enforced. Heck, many of our regular customers were cops. At the time, you could drive up to a police checkpoint with a stash of bootleg CDs on the backseat, give a cheeky grin and a thumbs up, and the cops would just wave you through.
Suen Ko made millions within his first year.
I was good with computers, and I became his IT department. I helped him organize his production, and in return he gave me a handsome cut. I made quite a bit of money in my teens, but I quickly blew it all on drugs and girls.
The biggest eye opener was during the annual company dinner. They had to construct a tent hall on an empty field to fit all 5,000 of us in, and there were local politicians and community leaders on the front row tables. That drove in the impression of just how big the tree was, and how deep the roots went.
If I made the triads sound like corporations, that’s because that’s what they are. We were even registered with the Registrar of Companies as a multimedia company and we paid our taxes. The big bosses looked just like any other middle aged Chinese uncle you’d meet at the local supermarket. The best way to avoid detection is to be in plain sight and blend into the background. The so-called gangsters you see on the street strutting their stuff are amateurs; many of them are just aping what they see in the movies. The pros keep a low profile and get on with making money.
Once you go far enough up the hierarchy, violence is actually pretty rare. For the most part, being a triad is just like working in any other corporate job.
But when violence does occur at that level, it’s freaking terrifying.
Roundabout the end of my first year, there was a war. The politician who Suen Ko worked for was at odds with another politician from the same organization. There were a few shootings, grenade attacks, and choppings, but it didn’t affect me directly at first so I didn’t give much thought to it. Then a call came one night. All hands on deck. We dropped everything and converged on the HQ.
Pardon the expletive, but it was scary as fuck. There were a hundred or so of us milling about an office block, and someone started handing out machetes and sashimi knives. Suen Ko took me up to the office, and there were hard looking fuckers at every corner. The air was so full of cigarette smoke I could barely breathe. Everyone looked grim. Apparently we were expecting an attack.
I was a skinny teenager, and I was out of my depth. Till that point, I’d been involved on the white collar side of things. The guys I saw that night had the word hard etched on their faces. I’ve never felt more scared than I did that night.
We stayed there overnight, but no attack came so we went back to our branch office. They attacked us there. A dozen or so guys rushed in and we fought back with chairs, clubs, machetes, boxes of A4 paper, everything we could get our hands on. It was a hazy frantic panicky desperate fight for survival. We were cornered and if we lost it would’ve been game over. One of theirs died in the melee.
The police arrived fairly quickly and I went to jail for a bit. It was in a cell that I resolved that this life wasn’t for me. For some miraculous reason, I got off scot-free. I went home, packed my things, and left everything behind to start a new life.
So how did it feel like? Terrible.
It’s not a healthy way to live one’s life. It got to the point where I was so paranoid that whenever I went to a restaurant I’d sit facing the entrance so I’d know who was coming in. I saw potential threats everywhere, and I carried symptoms of PTSD for a long time afterwards.
It took me a very long time to put my past behind and to learn to live again without fear like a normal human being. I had cut off all ties with everyone I knew, and have difficulty trusting people. Till today I know many, but am close with very few.
If there’s any teenager reading this who is in a similar situation as I was, know that the world is vast and there are opportunities everywhere. The cool kids you see in school are anything but.
Don’t make the same mistakes I did.
Prevention
If you’re a parent or a schoolteacher, here are some tips to help prevent this from happening to your kids:
When I was recruiting for the street gangs, there were some traits that I’d look for in potential recruits:
- Being bullied.
- Divorced parents or orphans.
- Socially awkward.
- Lack of self-confidence.
- Poor household.
So if your teenager is affected by any of the above, you need to take extra care to address their needs and thoroughly vet their circle of friends. Boost their self-esteem up, surround them with positive friends, role models, and influences. Take an interest in them, let them know they can depend on you, and give them something productive to do; or they’ll fill the void with input from their similarly immature teenage peers and people like my younger self.
Danger signs include:
- Smoking
- Alcohol
- Drugs
- Rebelliousness
- Getting into fights
- Precipitous and prolonged drop in grades
- Absenteeism
The key is prevention, with immediate and serious response upon the first signs of the above behaviour. All it takes is a tiny crack in the armor and recruiters like myself will wedge it wide open.
If your kids are already involved, there are no good options. The only surefire cure is to physically separate the children from their current environment, and transplant them into a new, hopefully better environment unreachable to their erstwhile friends.
Peer pressure will always outweigh talk and counselling, and if you send them to a juvenile detention center, prison, rehab, or any such places where delinquents congregate, they’ll come out even worse than when they went in. Those places are networking hubs, and “graduates” get a lot of street cred and respect. So only send teenagers to juvie or prison if you want to boost their criminal career. I changed my outlook when I was in a cell, not because I was in one.
p.s.
I have never come across those hand signs in the question’s description. We had better things to do than to go around flashing hand signs at each other. Looks like something someone made up, or it could be an American thing.
Don’t do it
What can we learn from Thailand’s efforts to boost its tourism sector, despite facing challenges like the recent incident at the Grand Hyatt Erawan?
“Why must they be killed or killed people in Thailand?” It’s not hard to answer my foreign wife when she showed me the online news from the Thai media, that ‘6 foreign tourists were found dead in the posh hotel in downtown Bangkok.’
It happened before and it will happen again— Trust me. I mean murders committed by foreign visitors in the Land of Smiles —where half of the world dying to visit.
Although death is never a happy moment, the above tragic news has absolutely nothing to do with Thailand. The police are coming close to revealing the misery of ‘Debt-related Murder’ although the only key witness is under extreme pressure- also their countryman, a tourist guide!
In small news the next day ‘ Dismembered Chinese TikToker: Suspect in alleged kidnap, killing reportedly arrested in Macao after fleeing Thailand“- Again, it was my wife who alerted me, “ You know what? The killer is also from China.”
Another news: A Canadian man was shot dead at a pool villa in Phuket, he was shot at least ten times.—
Who shot him? Two hitmen from Canada- (his photo taken with his peers)…Oh, my!
That isn’t all. A Spaniard (a religious man who quoted: Luke 23:34 and begged God to forgive not him but them) chopped his fellow countryman into 100 pieces and gave them to the fishes in the Chao Phraya River.
Also, an Australian Hells-Angle butchered his own Aussie gang member and dumped his body!
Still more, guys. A Frenchman, Marc (a colorful Godfather for the ladies) of the notorious Soi 7/1, Eden Club, and a Thai woman were found shot dead by another Frenchman.
A South Korean tourist —tortured, murdered, and put in a barrel by 3 Korean men.
Are you tired of reading yet?
What can we learn from Thailand’s efforts to boost its tourism sector?
Tourism aside, It’s not too offensive to people of Thailand to accept that this beautiful country is known to the dark side as—so conducive to be “the Murder Capital of the World.!”
“ Tell me, what is so attractive about Thailand to come here and do crimes?” My wife’s still innocently asking me! —I am Thai and I can’t answer her—Can anyone answer that?
Candidate
What did someone do in TSA/airport security that made you say “You gotta be kidding me”?
I (29) took a cheap flight to Florida with two girlfriends, Kelly (30) and Becky (27).
Set the scene: We were some of the most non-threatening-looking young women you’ve ever seen. Me: a reubenesque redhead with blunt bangs, firing off jokes left and right and laughing the whole time. Kelly: tall and willowy, with long, curly, dark hair, usually wearing a Brewers’ Tshirt, sometimes Packers. Dragging a purple suitcase. And Becky: curvy and blonde, with a pink fleece jacket and a big grin. Honestly, this all kind of makes sense because we would be PERFECT mules.
We were going to meet up with a friend who had just had a baby, and Becky had brought a gift for her, which was a bag of sealed clay in a clearly marked box for the baby’s hand print to be taken.
We start going through the TSA line and we give them a big smile, and I immediately get pulled for a random search. Fine. I’m sure this has nothing to do with my ample bum. I get patted down, and when I turn around, Becky’s getting hassled by the TSA guy, who wants to cut open the sealed clay bag to test it for drugs. Fine. So Kelly and I are laughing hysterically, as Becky’s gift gets mutilated and finally cleared, and we go on our merry way.
2 days later, we’re sitting in the cheap motel Becky got us and she’s looking for something in her purse, so she dumps it out and…
A big @$$ knife falls out!!!!
I suppose it wasn’t HUGE, but it was about dinner knife sized and sharp! I start screaming and Kelly starts screaming and Becky starts screaming and we’re absolutely freaking out because Becky’s big @$$ knife somehow didn’t get caught by TSA! Becky’s like “OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG WE COULD HAVE SPENT THE NIGHT IN A JAIL CELL OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!” And Kelly’s like “WHY DO YOU HAVE A FREAKING KNIFE IN YOUR PURSE IN THE FIRST PLACE??? And Becky’s like “I TOOK AN APPLE TO WORK EARLIER THIS WEEK AND FORGOT TO TAKE IT OUT!” And Kelly’s like “WHO CUTS AN APPLE WITH KNIFE LIKE THAT LET ALONE FORGETS ABOUT HAVING IT??” And I’m just screaming.
That’s when we decided that TSA was a joke. How the hell did they miss this big @$$ knife when they were so concerned about some stupid clay??
Both Kelly and I checked Becky’s purse before we got on the plane to go home.
Divine Chicken Spaghetti
Ingredients
- 4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
- 2 bunches green onions, chopped
- 1 (8 ounce) package fresh mushrooms, sliced
- 2 cups grape tomatoes, halved
- 1 cup Italian dressing
- 1 (8 ounce) package spaghetti
- 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Instructions
- Place chicken breasts in a single layer in a lightly greased 13 x 9 inch baking dish. Top evenly with onions, mushrooms and tomatoes.
- Pour dressing evenly over chicken and vegetables.
- Bake, covered, at 375 degrees F for 45 minutes.
- Remove chicken and vegetables from oven; let stand 10 minutes.
- Shred chicken using two forks.
- Cook pasta according to package directions, then drain.
- Combine shredded chicken mixture and spaghetti, tossing well.
- Top evenly with 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese.
Simply cannot
Welcome Interruptions
Submitted into Contest #24 in response to: Write a story set in the dark recesses of space where the two main characters are often at odds with each other in humorous and comedic ways.… view prompt
D Drummond
<I have upset you.>
‘Yes.’ She started, fumbling for words and still mortified beyond belief. ‘No. I… I was peeing, Nav.’
<Impossible. You are all impossible.> Grumbled the psychic seabeast. <I lose track of which biological processes I am meant to consider embarrassing. Should I avoid you all when you sweat? When you sneeze?>
‘Of course not, it’s just-’
<I did not disturb your lovemaking at Torv’s request, though my need is urgent.>
‘And I appreciate that, but… Wait what?’
<Edify.> Came the response, carefully neutral.
‘At Torv’s request?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘When was this?’
<Not relevant.> The Bleed went curiously blank in her mind, like hard vacuum pulling all the air out of a room. Even her non-psychic and sleep-deprived human mind couldn’t fail to notice that. She could taste copper on the tongue at the suddenness of the change. The Navigator was being evasive.
‘When, Nav?’
<Recently…>
‘You pair of freaks!’ she gasped, kicking open the door. Torv had vanished, lucky for him. ‘I’m in the depths of space trying to seek a bit of damned human connection on this endless voyage and it turns out my lover and the nosey Navigator are carrying on a conversation the whole time!?’
<Not the whole time.> At least Nav had the grace to allow his abashedness to seep back into the exchange. Daltz expected no such tact from Torv when she confronted him.
‘He’s dead. Dead meat.’ She vowed, pacing out the tension in her tiny cabin. She was spitting mad, but also, deep down, felt like collapsing in a heap of laughter at the surreal situation. In the end she let out a gasp of inexpressible emotion, lost somewhere between hysteria and rage, and flopped onto the bed.
After long minutes of pondering silence Nav offered his tentative interpretation of events. <I will not do this again.>
‘You’re damn right.’ Her jaw was bunched, but she was suddenly embarrassed, bizarrely concerned for the feelings of the hapless Navigator, alone in a ship where every mind he tried to touch resisted him at capricious, unknowable times. They asked the impossible of their most valuable crewmember. How would a human feel expected to forgo the use of their tongue, their hands, the expressiveness of their face for months at a time?
<I did not know this was transgressive. I am not tactless. I am trying.>
Daltz sighed deeply, feeling the last of the tension sloughing from her. ‘I know you are.’ She said, attempting a reassuring smile for the benefit of the empty room. The nature of psychic communication was an impossibility to those species not born to it. ‘Just do me a favour.’
<Yes?>
‘Next time you are unsure, ask me, not Torv.’
<Yes. Yes, this seems wise.> The disembodied voice seemed thoughtful. Wry amusement bled through to Daltz, setting her to smiling in sympathy. <He appears to be a poor exemplar of normative behaviour.> The damning assessment was delivered with so little inflection that it had her doubled over in cramping laughter in seconds. When she had controlled herself, she spoke again, wiping away tears of mirth and feeling better than she had in weeks.
‘What do you need, Nav?’
<Visit with me. I may have a health concern.> Just like that, her burgeoning good cheer was doused. Fumbling for her jumpsuit and bag in the dark, she kept her mind as blank as she was able. Her first concern was for a sick crewmate, but she couldn’t help the natural selfish thoughts of her racing mind. If they lost Nav they would drift in the vacuum until their supplies ran out, then they would die; cold, hungry and utterly alone. One human could hide such a natural yet spectacularly unsympathetic worry from another with ease, but could she hide it from Nav, to whom reading minds was as instinctive as breathing?
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
<My thanks.> There was an awkward pause and Daltz felt her eyes drift shut in resignation. Nav knew. <You are a good friend, Science Officer Daltz.> The thought was tender, almost floating in her mind, such was its gentle arrival.
‘Why do you say that?’
<Your concerns are natural, but your attempt to hide them is… kind…>
‘I… I don’t know what to say.’
<Ahh. I have erred again. I have made things awkward.> For the first time, Daltz felt embarrassment radiate from the vast mental impression she had of Nav’s psychic presence, sprawling and ever-present at the other side of the Link. As she hurriedly walked through the cluttered and run-down hallways of their battered but beloved home, her footsteps were the only accompaniment to the growing silence. <I only meant… I appreciated your response. Ensign Torv…> Nav trailed off.
‘Torv what?’
<Ensign Torv insinuated I had contracted ‘space clap’ and offered to find me a penicillin shot… And he laughed… A great deal…>
Daltz couldn’t help but grin, shaking her head at the utter stupidity of the man. ‘A poor exemplar of normative behaviour indeed.’ She snorted, feeling psychic amusement wash through the Link in relieved waves.
She hurried on, eager to arrive the Navigator’s tower on the Marabou’s spine, where his senses could be amplified to quest outwards, finding safe paths through the inky black. She was a leading xenobiologist by education, but would’ve been a vetenarian by childhood conviction. She knew her worries would abate as soon as she could see the problem first hand, and begin to work on a solution. Navigator. It felt like such a cold thing, to refer to him by his life’s work, but they were left with little option. His true name wasn’t just unpronounceable, it wasn’t even a word. Imagine a sphere of blue smoke, opening like a spiral-petalled flower inside your mind. ‘Nav’ would just have to do…
Daltz stilled her errant mind as the bronze doors slid open before her. She had arrived, and it always awed her into stunned silence to actually lay eyes upon her captive charge. The chamber was a vaulted dome, vast and exposed, as every wall was constructed of toughened, transparent crystal. Nav viewed the vacuum of space from every angle, refractive surfaces feeding him infinite directions of countless shades of black. Dominating the space, Nav’s tank was a ghastly affair, as tasteless as it was ornate. The green amniotics in which he floated were contained by huge panes of concave glass, but between each was the gaudy presence of gold, burnished and wrought in the shape of creeping ivy. It was hideous and captivating all at once. Like a cloudy green jewel set in an ornate cage.
<Welcome.> Nav drifted closer in the gloomy murk. He was huge, dwarfing even the largest whales of Old Earth in size. His carapace was horned and ridged, segmented along the huge sections of his tall body, which floated upright and limbless like the chrysalis of some brutal caterpillar. He leaned as close to the surface as he could, revealing his disturbing features to his visitor. His mandibles clicked in a constant pattern, which Daltz could feel vibrating her feet through the metal decking even from so far away. The air reeked of peat and salt – the tang of the mineral-rich liquid which sustained him. She would have gagged if she hadn’t been used to it.
‘Hey, Nav.’ She answered, smiling. Her cautious grin dropped away a moment later, as Nav nearly send her squealing from the room in fright. Along every section of his body, his chitinous exoskeleton withdrew and retracted from a thousand little nooks and crannies. His eyes, each a depthless nimbus of celestial light yawned open as one. She swore under her breath, squinting in the suddenly too-bright room.
<I understand eye contact is important in human communication. I thought I would try it out.> He seemed tentative and unsure, like a child trying to impress. It would have been truly cruel to stamp down his vulnerable attempt, and Daltz spoke quickly in case her thoughts of horror betrayed her.
‘That’s very kind, Nav, but there’s no need, I’m a guest, this is your home. Make yourself comfortable.’
The piercing, all-knowing regard finally abated, as his legion of eyes sank away without a trace. Daltz let out a pent-up breath. One more potential faux-pas averted… she hoped, trusting to Nav’s discretion. He could read her every thought if he chose, so a certain amount of willful ignorance was the only way he could function within a human crew. Daltz knew her species’ deeply ingrained systems of manners and politeness revolved far more about what you just didn’t say, rather than how you acted and spoke. A thousand lies of omission per-person-per-day amounting to a civilization of billions which spanned the stars. Truly a miracle.
<If you wouldn’t mind joining me, I have become concerned about a build-up of parasites along my ventral plates.>
‘Of course.’ Focus and dedication smoothly slid to the forefront of Daltz’s mind, all thoughts dedicated to the job at hand. She asked for further details as she made her way to the small recessed alcove at the base of Nav’s tank. Building up a better picture of his symptoms, she donned her wetsuit with practiced ease. Before long she was ready to enter the airlock and emerge in the murky half-light of her patient’s bizarre habitat.
Questing through the gloom, she trod the bottom of the tank, fighting against the suction of countless years of accumulated grime and decaying carapace shards. She tried not to think about it. <Sorry for the state of the place.> he remarked wryly. <I need to have a talk with my cleaner.>
Daltz’s awkward laughter at the joke was a relief from the sudden flush to her cheeks. ‘I’ll get to it soon, I promise.’
<No rush.> he answered, pulsing earnestness through the Link between them. <You would be horrified at the ocean floor back home.> In an instant Daltz’s grasping hands found resistance up ahead. One second all she could see was impenetrable bottle-green, the next, the towering, looming sight of Nav’s colossal body rising up above her. With familiarity, she found the easiest handholds amongst the bizarre topography of his form, lifting herself up until he advised her to stop. It was impossible to register height whilst suspended in the near-opacity of the tank, but she knew that her ascend had been the equivalent of close to 4 stories of a building, taking her only halfway up his form. <Can you feel what we have spoken of? Some build-up of plaque or hard biofilm? It is irritating beyond belief.>
Her skillful hands made an inspection of the indicated area, practiced and brisk, yet thorough with concern. The results left her with a dubious scowl. ‘Are you sure this is the right area? I can’t feel any adhesions…’
<Quite certain. Would you carry out a scouring? These things can be rather serious if left unchecked.> Thoroughly unconvinced by her examination, Daltz still agreed readily. She couldn’t do him any harm even if the procedure was unnecessary, and on the other hand if she was wrong, the parasitic lesions which occasionally plagued his species could rapidly spread beyond the aid of any medical know-how. When the titanic psychic crustacean upon which a hundred-strong crew relies complains of a problem, you try your best to solve it.
‘You got it. I didn’t need to sleep anyway.’ In her mind’s eye she attempted to project the fond sarcasm she intended. Across the Link a billowing of humour met her thoughts halfway, mingling contentedly. Amongst the amusement, she sensed genuine surprise at the deftness of her thought-speak and couldn’t help but feel a little flush of pride. Setting to her work, she removed her scouring kit and started the arduous process of a deep scrub. Humanity was a space-faring race, with marvels of technology in every aspect of life making things easier. Sometimes, though, elbow grease was still required. The scourer was a tangle of abrasive steel wire, superheated by an element in the handle. As she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, her companion was a stream of hissing bubbles rising to the surface from Nav’s toughened hide.
With her monotonous task and bone-deep exhaustion, it was easy to drift while she worked, but some nagging sense kept dragging her back to the more analytical part of her mind. Nav was studiously silent, she noted, the first notes of suspicion stirring within her. Concentrating, she dug deeper, finding the Link almost closed off between them. He was hiding something again, and the problem-solving scientist in her wasn’t going to let answers escape. She strained, trying to imagine herself forcing open the wall in her mind. It didn’t come naturally to humans, but a talented individual trying their hardest? She kept up her scrubbing as she searched, and just for a second she received a glimpse of unhidden emotion. She stopped suddenly, open-mouthed, eyes wide with anger. Nav’s thoughts had been of such a familiar, mundane human nature, that it was impossible to misunderstand. Irritation, giving way to pleasure and contentment.
‘No.’ she swore, then swore again.
<What is it?> She had his rapt attention all of sudden, and along with it badly-hidden guilt.
‘No, you didn’t!’
<Didn’t what?>
‘I can’t believe you! You did not just interrupt me on the toilet and drag me to your mouldy tub in the middle of the night to scratch your itchy belly!’
She was incredulous, so far past rage that she was almost awed at the sheer cheek of the ancient cosmic traveler.
<If that was the case…Hypothetically…> he began slowly, choosing his words with care. <How angry would you be?>
‘You’re ten types of bastard, Nav.’ Dumbfounded laughter was bubbling up in her against her wishes. ‘I ought to leave you here to suffer.’
Her amusement at the ridiculous situation was a tempest in her mind, and she could feel Nav’s own impish delight carried along within it, so unutterably human in its inanity.
<But you won’t?>
After a pause to catch her breath, she reluctantly agreed. ‘But I won’t, aye.’ A moment of comfortable silence dwindled quickly, and then she did the only thing that made sense in the circumstances, as she thumbed the switch on her scourer and set back to scrubbing. A few moments later, she set them both chuckling anew as she spoke again.
‘You’re still a bastard…’
<I know.>
Actually, this is HOW I am TODAY
Vintage Illustration
When have you fired someone on the spot?
Originally Answered: Have you ever fired someone on the spot? If so, why?
One of my first post-college jobs was at a hotel. The hotel had a parking garage. One aspect of my new job was to “manage” the parking garage.
We suspected some bad business at the garage ie: missing money, rental cars going missing. I decided to pay a late night visit to the garage.
I pulled the drawer from the late night cashier to balance the account with the car count and guest list. I didn’t even need to fire the guy. He stood up and said “Well, I guess that’s that.” He picked up his stuff, walked to his car, flipped me off as he drove away.
Then a guy pulled up and came to the cashier window and said,
“Is Willie here?” I replied that I did not know. “Tell him he owes me a car or I’m, walking upstairs and taking one.” The guy looked like he could have picked one up and taken it with him.
He drove off as Willie drove in using a rental car he had “requisitioned” for the evening.
I fired him on the spot. He just flicked a cigarette, smiled and said. “I’ll be back, just you don’t worry.”
I worried.
I hated that job.
Cute
What is the most bizarre way you’ve landed a job?
Somewhere in the forest, south of Frankfurt, Germany, I ordered fourteen beers at the bar in what I thought to be perfectly accented German.
But as usual, the “R” in ‘Bier’ betrayed me. Germans roll it, and I struggle to get it right unless I am careful.
“Do I detect a touch of English accent… or maybe American?” asked an early fiftyish, absent-minded-professor-looking man solidly perched on the barstool to my left.
“American,” I replied. “I thought I hid it well.”
“You do,” he answered. “But it made me curious… you wouldn’t happen to be looking for a job, would you?”
My brain somersaulted…. WTF? Is this for real?
“Actually,” I answered, “I just signed my severance contract three hours ago. I still have a project to complete before I leave, but once it’s wrapped, I’m free.”
“Can you write?” he asked. “I’m looking to replace my American partner in our public relations agency. He’s headed back to the US with his new wife.”
“Well… my father worked as a journalist, my grandfather was city editor for a major daily newspaper, and my mother teaches English… but I’ve never worked as a copywriter before.”
“Not many people have,” he replied, “but if you can write properly, we can teach you the rest. Can you come after work tomorrow and meet the team and my partner?”
“Sure,” I said.
The interview was easy. It seemed they only wanted to test my social skills. The take-home test was a bit more difficult: I was to write a press release to introduce scissors (imagining they were newly invented) to the world.
I e-mailed my best effort off just before midnight.
The rest is history. They indeed taught me how to write for real… and twenty-three years later, I am working for one of the agency’s bigger clients and I still work with my old team.
FFB
Experience creates FFB.
Tibetan speaker
Some declarations from me. Why am I supporting China, and which group of Chinese people am I supporting?
- I am an Asian supremacist. We Asians need to dominate the world. We have to protect the world from the US and the EU, who have proven time and time again as true villians. I sympathaize with the Aficans and the Middle Eastern people the most. I would be an India supporter, but they lack the potential right now. They’re like a plastic bag drfiting through the winds — they’re opportunists, not true players on the global stage.
- I love Tibet. I am a Tibetan by ethnicity after all. I want more Chinese people to be proud of having Tibet as a part of China. There are many social issues in Tibet that many don’t talk about. I think people who really care about the Tibetans must know about the social issues in Tibet. I have found that Chinese people really care about Tibet, so that’s why I support them.
- I am anti-India because I am Nepalese. Though I think it is best for China and India to be friends, judging by how Indians online are openly saying they wish to invade Tibet, I think we should never trust the Indians. I do hope Indian intellectuals will guide their citizens and teach them real history, not propaganda.
- I want to promote Tibetan culture. People are mostly interested in Tibet because of political reasons. Who are the ones interested in Tibetan culture? The Chinese!
Thank you for reading. I will keep on writing about Tibet. And I am happy that many people are reading my answers.
More: Since I am from Nepal, there is no way of me earning money through Quora, so writing answers here is purely my hobby. Though, if I gain enough followers (like 2k/3k) then I might take a more neutral stance and delete all hate posts. I could use this profile when I need to apply for jobs, or use this to promote tourism in Nepal. Well, I could just get bored and forget the password. I’d only be wasting time here.
What would it be like if North Korea and South Korea legally ended hostilities and united?
Several things become true:
- The southern part of Korea stops being an island, meaning they must negotiate far more with their continental partners. South Koreans can finally visit Mt. Baekdu/Paektu. (The Koreans will probably have to figure out which romanization to stick to.)
- Korea will be a nuclear power with launch vehicles capable of nuclear deterrence.
- Korea will have a similar situation to China wherein the “interior” is in essence a developing country. This will relieve a lot of low wage employment pressure for the richer, southern areas.
However, the likely political outcome for Korea makes them prey for the interests of China and the US. This is because:
- Korea is a nuclear power. The US will not tolerate a nuclear power in that region of interest that is not strategically indebted to the US, while China will not tolerate a nuclear power on its border that is hostile. Strategically Korea can only push for an independent, neutral position and hope that it does not have to pick sides.
- Korea is still divided on political opinion and will remain so for some time. Having talked to North Koreans, it is clear that many of them actually do care for the general political project of their nation. It is why most of their elites wash their own clothes and cook their own meals— they want elites to take responsibility for their social obligations. The South Koreans on the other hand seem to gravitate towards elite control, in particular Seoul basically consuming the rest of the country. The clash in opinion is ripe for fresh division.
It would be a situation heavily influenced by external forces larger than it. Likely, such a united Korea would not necessarily be at equilibrium. Here’s to hoping the Koreans can beat the odds and find their own peace together.
I Had To “DOWNGRADE MY LIFE”…GOING INTO DEBT TO BUY GROCERIES
Welcome to the West.
Greek Spaghetti
Sometimes the most simple recipes are the most delicious, and this is one of those recipes.
Ingredients
- 12 ounces spaghetti
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
- Garlic powder or mashed garlic cloves
- Feta cheese (optional)
Instructions
- Burn butter until golden.
- Add garlic powder or crushed cloves and serve over cooked, drained spaghetti.
- Sprinkle feta cheese over the top if desired.
What are the best business lessons we can learn from companies that got huge?
How to lose?
Just ask Nokia
“Nobody is able to predict that volatile environment”
Olli-Pekka Kallasvuo (Former CEO of Nokia) says in an interview (INSEAD). Once upon a time, Nokia was the most successful mobile phone-maker.
Nokia had the market at its fingertips. Every move they made resulted in profit.
Their new phones became the next craze in only a matter of weeks. Their clear-cut design, with smart navigation systems and a high quality camera were unlike anything anybody had ever seen.
Nokia was on top. How could they fail?
Little did Nokia know, there were a few companies lurking beneath them. They were hungry for the top spot that Nokia had. Nokia ignored them.
Nokia was king, there was no way companies like Apple were going to become successful.
Except on June 29th, 2007, Apple released the iPhone.
Nokia could not believe the amount of sales they lost to Apple and they were scared of losing their market share.
Nokia needed to come out with a smartphone. A smartphone that could rival the iPhone. At the time, Android version 1.0 had just released, but, Nokia didn’t believe in it. Why would Android ever become successful?
They decided to make their biggest mistake as a company and choose Symbian instead of Android. Nokia was desperate and quickly released their smartphone, but it was no competition for the iPhone. The Symbian system was old tech.
If Nokia had chosen Android and adapted to the market before being disrupted, Nokia would have had a much better chance of surviving.
The problem was that Nokia was scared of losing their reputation as top dog and didn’t want to change.
The biggest lesson is: Once you are scared of the drop, you won’t last long at the top.
As a surgeon, what is the most dangerous thing you have found inside a patient?
I’m not an MD but I am a nurse and had a personal issue once. I had a surgery years ago through my nose. There was this horrible smell, and there was so much pressure and pain. I wasn’t supposed to be blowing my nose and was using the sinus rinses as ordered. I noticed that when I would rinse the left side of my nose, nothing came out of the other nostril, but I would get the horrible drip down my throat for hours afterward. I knew something wasn’t right. I kept telling the surgeon that something was wrong. She smelled the odor and put me on multiple rounds of antibiotics with no improvements and told me that what I experienced with the rinses was “normal”. She never looked in my nose after the first post-op appointment where she told me that there was a “lot of swelling but that’s normal at this point”. After the 6th time I had gone in there complaining of the same awful smell, pain and pressure (and still with the same sinus rinse result), I demanded to see her supervisor. She was really put out, but I didn’t care. Her medical director saw me 3 days later, he used a scope and I could hear him say under his breath, “Oh!” He then pulled a long piece of packing out of my nose that was the most disgusting, smelly thing I had ever encountered in my life. We just looked at each other. He just said, “Well there’s the problem. Things should get much better now.” I was speechless.
SIGHTINGS – Retro Pulp Science Fiction by Skyward, 1961, INTEGRATING G3!
PRODUCTION NOTES FOR SIGHTINGS I have always wanted to make this film, but it was not possible until just now. Remember when YouTube was in its very early days?
There were all kinds of unexplainable collections of sightings, cryptids, and paranormal stuff like ghost photos, etc. After watching enough of these, I would get the strangest feeling that would last for days, kind of astonishment with a certain kind of dark wonder.
Many of those favorite videos have just vanished to time, to be replaced by a billion new ones in better quality video.
Going back into the historical archive, AI UFO SIGHTINGS was my first very wishful attempt to at least explore the idea.
The contrast now is UNBELIEVABLE. We were all completely blown away by the state of the art back then, only just over a year ago. Someday I will revisit this idea ever further with even better tech!
The strangest thing is G3ML really is like starting over at the beginning, and has already shown me some magnificent aberrations and interdimensionality, so for right now we remain in the ‘breaking new ground’ historical epoch of visual artificial intelligence!!
**Just a small rant – The term “AI” is such a buzzword! It’s like “NFTs” and “Crypto” were, bandied all about by cor prits in order to cause another Bandwagon stampede of sheep! Attached to every possible plastic product it can be weakly linked to! I don’t think anyone on THIS channel is too excessive of a follower, so we can take a rest here from the oceanic dilution of the term.
Vented, thanks.
In our next couple of adventures here, I can take some time to illustrate some of the triumphs and challenges involved in working with the new ML modes, as I have already tracked a path or two. I’ll just point things out as we go and as we discover them. Thanks Everyone!!!!!!! Please Share with your more open-minded friends! !!!!!!!Overjoyed to have you here! -Skyward
Why do some elderly get out and go for walks while others just want to hide in their homes?
I will be 86 in two days, absolutely no family or friends left. I have learned, against impossible odds, no matter how hard and how painful (I am disabled and can’t walk), I handle l00% of everything myself as it pertains to me. I still drive (safely) and go out to eat by myself; I still work at the same job for 50 years and won’t stop until I die (animal welfare work from local to international level; just quit a job taking care of someone as a Power of Attorney for l4 years due to his mental issues; finished six years of college a year ago; took four years of computer lessons; learn new things daily about world events and things on the computer; have tons of hobbies; and the list goes on. I suffer with pain, loneliness – except for my beloved kitty – but I will NOT ever give in to being OLD except in calendar time. I would rather die than act like so many old people – eat, shit, sleep, watch t.v. I want to cram a lifetime into my remaining time and I do so daily. I stay away from deadbeats. I want inspiring, motivating, challenging people in my life or I choose to stay alone with my kitty.
Do people open carrying guns ever get bullied?
Oh yeah. This actually happened to me. I was stationed in Arizona, an open carry state, When I turned 21 I picked up my S&W Combat Model 19 .357 revolver which I had preordered, I had already had a custom made leather, gun belt and holster. I spent a lot of time at the range and open carried when off base. After several months I had an epiphany of sorts, a moment when I asked myself, ‘why are you really doing this and exactly under what circumstances will you pull this weapon?’ Up to that point I was just all 2nd Amendment, self righteous, young baddass wannabe. I quit carrying for over a month while I considered this question and consulted a lot of friends and senior NCOs I respected. I finally got my mind right and began carrying again. One of the things that happened to me is that I became a much more polite, tolerant and respectful person. I know it may sound trite but I always go back to Spiderman and his Uncle Ben who said “With great power, comes great responsibility.” No truer words have ever been said. Things said which I may have taken affront or been offended before, rolled off my back. I tended to avoid potential confrontation depending on the circumstances. That said, I was at the Tucson Flandrau Science Center & Planetarium walking around the exhibits while waiting for the next planetarium show. Everything was fine and there was a Boy Scout with his Troop who asked me about my weapon and why I carried it. Spent a few minutes talking about self defense and the defense of others as well as the 2nd Amendment. Parted ways and continued to view the exhibits when this middle aged, balding, hippie type wearing sandles literally accosted me. Got right in my face looking up at me and started off with verbal abuse, calling me a NAZI, and why was I scaring all of the people in the museum and other nonsensical stuff along with personal epithets. I was a bit taken aback and started to get angry then remembered why I carried and the responsibilities for doing so. As I was looking down at him, he came to a break in his tirade and I said, “Mister, I don’t see anyone around us afraid of anyone but you.” This was true because at this point a crowd had gathered and their attention was gathered on the hippie. This really pissed him off, he got red faced, raised his fists and I actually backed off a couple of steps shouting, “Man you really don’t want to do this!” At this point the manager of the museum got between us and cooled the guy down. He invited us both his office to talk things over. Once there the hippie again went off on a tirade about me carrying a weapon and scaring people. I responded again that the only person who was afraid was hippie guy and that by Federal and Arizona state law I was legally able to carry open. I also requested the Manager to call local law enforcement to verify this. The manager was obviously aquainted with the law and said that would not be neccessary. He also said that as the planetarium’s projector was worth millions of dollars, would I be willing to unload my gun? Looking at him I said sure, why not, and did so pocketing the cartriges. That seemed to have satified the hippy and he stormed off. I turned to the manager and said, you know I can reload in a few seconds, He said, “Yup, but it got rid of that asshole
Guy Pretty Privilege
What was the best “drop the mic” moment you’ve witnessed in a business meeting?
In 1997, I was the first intern sent from MIT to work at a Honda R&D center near the city of Utsunomiya, Japan. I quickly learned that the work I did there wasn’t too important to anyone; the whole point of my internship was for Honda and MIT to build a relationship, and I was just a sentient poker chip that they exchanged. This was fine with me since it allowed me the freedom to get involved in some fascinating research in shape memory alloys. Eventually people noticed what I was doing, and I became part of a very high-performing group looking at shape memory alloys, piezoelectrics, and magnetostrictive materials within active structures. Japanese companies like Honda tend to keep their blue sky R&D more internal, while most American companies instead fund university labs to do the same work.
At the end of my internship, I participated in a talk with the head of R&D at Honda. That man did very little talking in the meeting; his handpicked successor who was 20 years younger mostly ran the meeting. My group gave updates on all of our various projects, and the successor asked some insightful questions that showed me that he knew his stuff.
At one point in the meeting, the successor drew a beautiful, ornate balance scale on the whiteboard, showing the smart people working on the project on one side labelled “negatives”, and the results on the other side labelled “positives”. He was making the point that our group shouldn’t just produce average results, but in order to justify the time of the best engineers, our group needed to produce extraordinary results. That’s when the senior manager got up, and walked to the whiteboard.
This man had been silent throughout the meeting, and that made him getting up and walking to the whiteboard all the more remarkable. 21 years later, I still remember his gait getting out of the chair and walking to the whiteboard. He erased the picture of the engineers from the “negative” side of the balance, and drew them in on the positive side. Then he said,
“The most important output of this R&D team is not the projects they do. The most important output is the people, people with experience in these new technologies. Successful projects are nice, but the experience is the #1 thing. When the time comes for more active structures in cars, we will need Honda people with this experience, more than we need these exact projects.”
I have long since moved from the automotive industry to the semiconductor industry. I’ve seen many meetings with yelling and swearing and people slamming down phones and walking out. I’ve never seen a person take control of a meeting and shift the focus of a group the way that Honda executive did, simply standing up and walking to the whiteboard and quietly saying a few declarative sentences.
Have you ever accidentally said something inappropriate?
It was one of those quiet boring days in the office.
I was sitting there at my desk, trying to work while my brain was going numb from all the boredom.
Sitting right across from me was a colleague of mine who is a Pakistani. He was focused on his work and minding his own business.
I started talking to him in English (I’m an Arabic speaker). I don’t remember what the conversation was about, but at one point it became about birthdays.
He asked me when my birthday is. I told him it’s on September 23. He then told me that his birthday is in September as well, but it’s in the beginning of the month.
Now I’m no expert in horoscopes, but I know that my birthday is on the first day of the Libra, so his horoscope must be the one right before the Libra.
I paused for a while to figure out his horoscope, and after realizing it’s the Virgo while not knowing at the time that it’s called “Virgo”, I translated the horoscope from Arabic to English in my head, and it came out as “Virgin” (I’m really not good in horoscopes), and then I went ahead and asked him after a long pause:
So, you’re a virgin?
He looked at me with a confused look and said: I’m sorry?
I asked again: You are a virgin, right?
He let out a nervous chuckle and said: What?!
I was not getting it. Why was he so slow to understand? and I kept insisting that he must be a virgin, and I’m sure of it.
He was looking at me silently, with widened eyes and a shocked look on his face, not understanding what the hell is wrong with me!
Then I decided to spell it out for him; Your horoscope is the virgin, right? Because your birthday is in the beginning of September, so it must be it.
Him: Ahhhhhh! A Virgo! Yes, my horoscope is the Virgo.
He then laughed and sighed with a bit of relief.
Only then did I realize what I had just asked him, and OMG! how embarrassed and stupid I felt.
We then ended that delightful small talk, and we both shifted our focus back to that boring work of ours, never speaking of how awkward that conversation was.
China Dumps US Debt, Fearing a Capitalist Armageddon|Richard Wolff
Have you ever had someone leave a note on your parked car? What did it say on it?
Well I think everyone is going to find this answer entertaining.
Got off work at around 5 p.m. one day and walked out to my parked car in the area where I usually park it. It was a note on my car stating that it had been involved in an auto accident.
Now here’s where it gets really interesting. That note was from the Los Angeles Police Department.
The company I worked with shared a parking lot with a J. C. Pennys store. Apparently store security spotted a shoplifter and decided to arrest her. Unfortunately instead of stopping her as she exited the store they decided to let her get into her vehicle and attempted to leave the scene. As she was backing out of a parking space they opened her door and pulled her out of the moving vehicle. Now some of you might be thinking oh my God, they pulled her out of a moving vehicle! What happened to the moving vehicle? Nothing to worry about, it stopped when it plowed into my car.
And of course this lovely shoplifter of a lady had no driver’s license let alone valid insurance.
And at that time I did not have uninsured underinsured coverage on my insurance. So I would have to pay a high deductible on my comprehensive coverage. I know it sounds strange as comprehensive is not for that. But my insurance said they would cover it that way due to the odd circumstances.
I called the corporate offices of J. C. Penneys, to ask them to pay for the damage to my car. They told me they had nothing to do with the damage to my vehicle. And that I should go after the owner/driver of the car.
I told them that I was sorry they felt that way, and that I would visit the shoplifter who was in custody at the LA County Jail. And I would be happy to tell her about the incredible lawsuit she probably has against J. C. Penneys due to their security personnel pulling her out of a moving vehicle.
After listening to my statement, the person on the other end of the phone at J. C. Penneys responded by saying please send me a copy of your repair estimate and will issue you a check immediately.
And I promise to everyone, this is an absolutely true story.
Will China have to fight major wars to enjoy pace harmony and prosperity? They did not succeed with the opium wars.
Unfortunately yes.
People fear the Americans because they absolutely devastate countries for fun.
They destroyed Afghanistan, Syria, Libya, Iraq, Yemen and other places.
They’re defanged these days because of their priorities that is to profit from war rather than winning any actual peace/stability.
We’re even seeing their inability to stop Ansar Allah :D. Their colour revolutions have also been failing since the mid 00s.
The same thing with Somalis in the UK or Pakistanis. If you attack them? They’ll fuck you up badly. Hence why British people have little love for them but fear them.
At one time UK Chinese and Indians (especially the Sikh guys) too were feared as in a fight we broke the rules. In a fight in the UK 60s, 70s and 80s) if you won a fight, it was normal to shake hands and forget about it. For the aforementioned communities we weren’t so magnanimous.
If you lost a fight against us? You’d be murdered.
My father literally has tons of stories where some idiot loses a fight and simply gets stabbed to death as he begs for his life. Some of the stories I recall from Mr Singh before he passed were brutal.
He’d tie them up in the basement and beat them to death slowly over several days.
Since China is hated by westerners, there’s only one option.
A savage war which will make Gaza look like it’s nothing.