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Whether you’re a ware-rabbit, a cat, or a dog with a glowing green tail, the important thing is to embrace who you are—floppy ears and all

I had the pleasure of working with a lot of Americans; I remember particularly one who came from NY to London to work with us for three weeks.

In the first few days, while onboarding, he constantly boasted about how hard he works (8–8) and how little we do (9–5).

Then we worked together. I’ll never forget how tired he was after first day which I could only call “warm up” by London standards. I think he went through hell with me in this week, he never worked intensively before. Seeing this, I gave him a lot of slack.

His idea of “work” was to spend 1h on morning coffee run, 2h on lunch, an hour or two by watercooler, you get the picture.

With me, he had to do solid 8h and that was way more than he was accustomed to, despite doing considerably longer “working hours”.

He genuinely thought London works casually, like he does, just less hours. He said these were hardest three weeks of his life. This stayed with me for some reason.

He, just like most Americans, lives in a bubble caused in big part by lack of holiday time. They are simply unable to travel and explore the world and they’re unable to work at peak efficiency as people are genuinely tired.

The only travel they do is within country, which reinforces established, narrow point of view of “everywhere, everything is the same”. I bet this would apply to anyone put in this position, not only Americans.

1. The political system in China is called “Consultation system”, while the political system in the West is called “Election system”.

In looking at the Western-style democratic framework, a fundamental question arises:

Should democracy be about conflict – one’s values over another’s – or about consensus?

The role of the state is to act as a rule-maker and arbiter of conflict.

Similarly, in the process of formulating relevant policies to carry out the authoritative distribution of social values, the state must conduct extensive communication and consultation with the social pluralist subjects to strive for consensus.

This means that in a society with diversified interests, it is normal for different social groups to have different interests and conflicts of interest. It is also because of this that deliberative democracy is inevitable in social life…

Which is more democratic? China’s “Consultative system”.

Do Western opposition parties have the right to enter the government cabinet? No, they do not.

Many cabinet ministers in China are not members of the CPC, For example, former Minister of Health Chen Zhu was not a member of the CPC, but a member of the Chinese Peasants’ and Workers’ Democratic Party Central Committee. However, because of his abilities and expertise, he was valued, so he is eligible to join the government cabinet. This is democracy.


2. In China it is “Serve the people”, in the West it is “Serving one’s constituents”.

“Serving the people” is to serve the general public, while ‘Serving one’s constituents’ is to serve their support camps, which is one-sided and does not cover the whole population.

Americans React to China’s Lifestyle after Joining the Red Note App

US is sanction-happy. It has imposed all sorts of sanctions. It is power-hungry. It sanctions countries that disagree with it and do abide its ways. It is angry as there are more and more such countries.

But are they effective? For the US, they may serve a political purpose, but not many countries are intimidated. An interesting point is that US has become less trigger-happy since Russia defeated its sanctions.

Russia has the distinction of receiving the largest number of sanctions and the most severe ones. They were aimed to collapse its economy and its oil industry. But to its credit, Russia largely defeated them all. Proof of the pudding is that both its economy and oil industry are standing and growing.

China has been helpful – the “no limit” agreement, their trade and investments, the use of their national currencies, as well as, the facilitation of its foreign payments and settlements outside the SWIFT system.

Iran has also received a fair share of sanctions. It went through a tough time during Covid-19 for shortages of medical supplies due to the sanctions. It has grown to become a force to be reckoned with, even in science and technology, such as the supply of drones to Russia.

China has also been helpful. The 2 countries have a long-term multi-billion dollar trade & investment agreement.

China has also had the pleasure of US sanctions, all of them to prevent its technology development. Nevertheless, it marches on, its tech-driven economy growing at twice the pace of the US. Its technology prowess is now shoulder to shoulder with the US, leads in new tech like 5G communications, and the entire field of green tech.

US angers known no bound. Poor and small countries are not spared its sanctions.

Cuba has been under sanctions for 2 generations, the US ignored every resolution in the UN to lift them. Afghanistan has only about $10 billion in reserves. US froze them when it was kicked out of the country.

In 1994 I interviewed for a cooking job at a 24-hour restaurant. At that time I had been “in the business” for about 11 years, so I knew pretty well “what’s what” in my line of work, as far as how things run in a restaurant. I was sitting in a booth, across the table from the restaurant manager. I had immediately, upon introductions, gotten the impression that the manager was an “easy-going” guy.

At one point in the interview, the manager asked me the pretty standard question, “So, what kind of schedule are you looking for?”

I responded with a completely asinine answer:

“Oh, you know, Monday through Friday, 9 to 5.”

If you’ve worked in restaurants, you understand what’s wrong with that answer. If you haven’t, here’s the thing: There is essentially no such thing as a M-F, 9–5 schedule for hourly workers in restaurants. Restaurant work schedules are arranged around meal times, not “office hours”, and having both Saturday and Sunday off are right out of the question, as those are typically the busiest days of the week. If I had as much experience in the industry as I claimed, I would know this.

So I said that. The manager did sort of a surprised double-take. Then he grinned. Then he busted up laughing.

Then he offered me the job.

Here’s the thing, though. This was a specific instance where I felt that I had “read” the interviewer right and, luckily, it turned out that I had read him right. So, in a serious situation (I really needed the job), I took the chance that a stupid joke of an answer would pay off. I made the joke, the interviewer recognized it as a joke, and, most importantly, he recognized it as a joke that only somebody who knew the business could make.

I thoroughly enjoyed working for that guy. He loved the restaurant business the same way I did/do (I’m still cooking professionally).

Choosing the Right Cinnamon
Fourteen Ways to Fancy-up your Cinnamon Rolls

Cinnamon

Kitchen tools, gourmet foods, baking mixes, and hard-to-find baking ingredients mentioned in this article are available at The Prepared Pantry.

by Dennis Weaver

 

My mother made bread nearly every week. Often, she took part of the batch and made cinnamon rolls, bread dough wrapped around a mixture of cinnamon, sugar, and butter. They were luscious. In my memory, that’s my first affair with cinnamon and I’ve been in love with cinnamon ever since. With experience, I learned that nothing will make such a magical difference in your baking as a really good cinnamon.

There are so many different types of cinnamon available, many of them cheap and very inferior. A good cinnamon tastes good and a bad cinnamon tastes like a drug store. Once I found good cinnamon, I started doubling the amount called for in the recipe. In time I concluded that the reason so many recipes call for so little is that more bad cinnamon would destroy the recipe.

Today, I’ll help you choose a very good cinnamon. You’ll learn of different types of cinnamon and you’ll learn how much to buy and how to store it. And I’ll tell fourteen ways that you can fancy up those cinnamon rolls you make.

Types of Cinnamon

There are three types of cinnamon to consider: Korintje Cassia cinnamon, Vietnamese cinnamon, and Sri Lankan or Ceylon cinnamon.

Korintje cassia cinnamon comes from Indonesia, usually Sumatra. It comes from the cassia tree, not the true cinnamon tree, and is the cinnamon we are most familiar with. Good quality Korintje cassia is sweet and mellow. Lower quality cinnamon, the B and C grades commonly sold in the stores, is often bitter and astringent. You can tell the difference by tasting it. Dab a little on your finger and put it in your mouth. Premium Korintje cassia cinnamon will be smooth with an almost citrus tone.

Vietnamese (Saigon) cinnamon also come from the cassia tree but it has a very different tone resulting in a different experience when baked. Botanically, it is the same but is harvested and processed differently resulting in the different flavor. It is stronger and spicier with more cinnamon oil flavor. This is my favorite cinnamon in apple pies and apple desserts.

Ceylon (Sri Lankan) cinnamon is a true cinnamon coming from the cinnamon tree. In some parts of the world, it is preferred over cassia cinnamons. It is less pronounced in flavor and has a more citrus overtone.

Which cinnamon should I buy?

So which do you buy? We recommend all three so that you can match the distinctive flavors to recipes that you are using and the result you are trying to attain.

Korintje cassia is less expensive and can be very good. Be certain that you buy premium or grade A cinnamon. Look for the volatile oil content; that’s what gives cinnamon its flavor. It should have at least 2% volatile oil. (The cinnamon that we sell does.)

Shelf life: How much should I buy?

You have probably noticed that you can buy spices in bulk for much less than in small quantities. Handling and packaging is expensive. If you are confident in the quality of the cinnamon you are purchasing, buy it in quantity. However, keep in mind that cinnamon will lose its potency. As it becomes older, you may have to use more of it to get the same flavor in your goods. We recommend buying what you can use in a year.

Ideas for Your Next Cinnamon Roll Project

And now for those fancy ways to make cinnamon rolls: Mix your rolls as usual but add any of the following to your filling.

1. Cranberry Nut Sweet Rolls. Use dried cranberries and walnuts in the filling. Add a little orange zest to your filling.

2. Cranapple Sweet Rolls. Add dried cranberries and dried apples to your filling. Alternatively, use an apple pastry filling and add cranberries.

3. California Golden Sweet Rolls. Add golden raisins and orange zest to your filling.

4. Fruit Filled Sweet Rolls. Use a commercial fruit pastry filling with your sweet rolls. We sell apple, raspberry, blueberry, cherry, and lemon. Alternatively, make your own filling with fresh fruit.

5. Maple Nut Sweet Rolls. Make your filling with maple flavoring and walnuts.

6. Peanut Butter Sweet Rolls. Instead of butter in the filling, substitute peanut butter. Add chopped peanuts.

7. Chocolate Fudge Sweet Rolls. Add cocoa to your dough and some extra sugar or add cocoa and chocolate chips to your filling. Frost your rolls with a thick chocolate ganache.

8. Cinnamon Burst Sweet Rolls. Add cinnamon chips to your filling.

9. Jammy Sweet Rolls. Use your favorite jam or jelly in the filling.

10. Chocolate Peanut Butter Cup Sweet Rolls. Make the fudge rolls above but substitute peanut butter for the butter and add extra peanut butter.

11. Cherry Pecan Sweet Rolls. Add dried cherries or maraschino cherries and pecans to your filling. Make a cherry frosting with red or pink food coloring and cherry extract.

12. Pear and Pecan Sweet Rolls. Add dried pears and pecans to your filling.

13. Macadamia Orange Sweet Rolls. Add macadamia nuts, white chocolate and orange marmalade to your filling. Add orange zest to a cream cheese frosting for topping.

14. Coconut and Pecan Sweet Rolls. Add shredded coconut and pecans to your filling. Use brown sugar in the filling and omit the spices.

“Brace Yourself NOW” – Richard Wolff’s LAST Warning

Peace & Quiet

Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth. view prompt

KA James

Journal Entry 1 – Where is Everybody?

I could start off by simply stating the obvious. I am currently thoroughly confused.

Everyone besides me seems to have disappeared. It has been days since I have seen another living soul, just how many days, I am not sure. My concept of time seems to have been altered, although I have no idea how that could be done. My surroundings are familiar, yet so many things seem strange to me now. My emotional responses don’t seem to always be appropriate. I try to examine one odd feeling, and another manages to come along before I can even begin to focus on the first. My memories of family and friends, of workdays and holidays, are all there and vivid in my mind as occurrences, though I couldn’t say with any confidence level whether the events I am remembering happened last week or last year.

I was taught from an early age that information was vitally important, that you could solve any problem if you analyzed it thoroughly. I have been told many times that I have an exceptionally analytical mind. Data analysis, after all, is my job, so I am starting this journal in an effort to collect information that I can hopefully use to determine just what has happened.

I am a product of my generation, so I don’t have anything as exotic as a leather-bound booklet of stark white pages to fill with my thoughts and observations. This electronic version will have to suffice.

To start, I shall state what I believe that I know.

My name is Sharon, born July 29, 2005. I am a twenty-nine year old data analyst living in Columbus, Ohio. I am single, renting an apartment on the second floor of a four story complex, where I have a second bedroom converted to an office, which I work out of primarily. I have little free time, as I have been described as a workaholic, though I do, or did, have friends I would occasionally go out with on a somewhat infrequent basis.

Other than the complete absence of my fellow man, the world is generally as I remember it, my apartment is still my apartment. Earlier today, I went outside for the first time since this all started. Strolling down the short hallway to the parking garage and exit door, all registered as familiar. The brown, swirl designed carpet, so obviously selected as to not show dirt tracked in by the tenants, the plastic potted plants and fire extinguishers, mass market artwork, all the normal amenities one would expect in the common areas of a moderately priced apartment complex.

Emerging out onto the sidewalk, the drugstore remained just across the street, and even appeared to be open for business, though who might patronize it now was anyone’s guess.

Venturing further into the neighborhood, all the shops and businesses were right where they should be, the park that I like to jog through still just a couple blocks down, everything in its place except for my fellow citizens.

But as I stood at the entrance to the park, I realized that wasn’t entirely true. There were other things missing, and other oddities if I believed that everyone else had simply vanished.

The world wasn’t completely quiet, a gentle breeze rustling the tree branches above me being the most prominent sound, but there were no animal noises joining in. Not a single tweet, coo or squawk came from the trees, no squirrels running across the grass, not even a stray dog or cat crossed my path. Did they disappear with all the people?

I returned to my apartment with more questions than when I had left hours before, and no answers at all.

 

With no other people, I am anxious for something to happen. When I am not actively searching for answers, I am frustrated at the dullness of the day. I know I should feel lonely. Maybe that will come in time.

 

 

Journal Entry 4 – Experiments

The last few days have not been productive at all. My few journals so far are repetitious, with no new meaningful observations or information to log. I seemed to have been waiting for something to happen rather than taking the initiative and further exploring my surroundings or examining my situation. Today has been marginally more productive, though my minor revelation seems to have been purely by accident.

My apartment never really changes, or does so only if I make a conscious effort to make it different. If I turn on a light or open a door in the room I am in, it stays on or open. But other items that should change over the course of a normal day don’t always appear to follow the same pattern. My bed, for example, is always made. Not perfectly, but always in the same manner and with the same sheets and duvet hanging identically, the pillows piled just so. I can remember making this bed a multitude of times since moving here, but I can’t say that I can remember having made it today.

When I open the refrigerator, it is stocked full of food, from fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, cheese, to leftovers stacked up in Tupperware. But it always looks the same. And though my concept of time is still skewed, it feels like some fairly significant amount of time has elapsed since I last went shopping, yet nothing has spoiled, and even though I am sure I am eating, my fridge stays nearly overflowing.

With this thought in mind, I devised a few experiments which I have initiated.

I moved a pillow from my bed to the couch in the living room. I pulled the duvet off and left it crumpled on the floor, and folded the sheet down so it only covered half the bed.

In the kitchen, I found a couple apples and took a single bite out of each, placing one back in the refrigerator and the other one on the counter.

So that my experiments weren’t limited to just inside my apartment, I went back outside and walked to a bakery on the next block. I remembered on my original walk to the park entrance that the bakery had been open, with what had appeared to be well stocked shelves from what I had seen through the window.

A sweet and cinnamony aroma assaulted my senses as I stepped through the door, like one would expect in such a bakery, if it was still actively in use. A tray of what were presumably four day plus old cinnamon rolls sat behind the glass counter. Moving around and removing the tray, I pulled a roll loose, and could tell even before I bit into it that it was no more than an hour old, still warm, flakey and delicious.

I purposely left the tray setting on the counter before heading back to my apartment, doing my best to ignore the rest of the bakery as I left.

 

I am not positive, but have an idea what I will find tomorrow.

 

 

Journal Entry 5 – Observations

The apples are where I left them, the one on the counter having started to turn brown where I bit into it.

The pillow and bed are also as I left them, most significantly, the sheet is still covering only half the bed. There is no evidence that I have slept in it, and no indication of any attempt to remake the bed properly.

The bakery further supports my theory. The rack of cinnamon rolls I moved are room temperature and beginning to harden, particularly on the exposed edges. They now taste like what I would expect day old rolls to taste like, but still better than nearly a week old.

A final corroborating observation came out of the bakery, though I couldn’t set it up as I had done the others. I found a whole rack of similar cinnamon rolls in the back. Since I had not seen them the day before, they were still fresh and slightly warm.

 

Somehow, the objects in my world don’t age, don’t move or change in the slightest, until I recognize and interact with them. And normal everyday actions that I should be doing as part of a day-to-day life don’t seem to happen unless I specifically focus on them, yet I remember them, if only vaguely.

I have to be sleeping, I sort of recall sleeping, and yet my bed shows no signs of anyone having slept in it.

I have to be eating, which I also kind of remember doing, but I can’t recall specifically what I ate last for an actual meal, and food only shows signs of aging or consumption when I consciously do something with it.

 

I am proud of myself, if only just a tad, for my cool and scientific approach to this bizarre situation, even though it has not led to any substantial insights into what is happening. I still don’t know the fate of everyone in the world except for me.

I have, of course, endlessly run the possibilities and probabilities through my mind.

 

It couldn’t have been a virus: there are no dead bodies.

 

If everyone but me simply disappeared, why are all the cars neatly parked off the street? Why aren’t there airplanes littering the ground that fell from the sky? I live only a couple miles from the Columbus Airport, and would surely have seen evidence of such crashes. The few businesses I walked through looked open, but there was no evidence that people had recently been inside them.

 

There is the incredibly farfetched. I could be in a state of suspended animation, aboard a spaceship speeding through the galaxy on a mission to the nearest star, and all that I am perceiving as real, nothing but sensory deprivation nightmares.

I can’t bring myself to believe that, but the remaining possibilities go down not completely dissimilar routes.

 

Perhaps life on Earth has remained as it was, and I am the one affected. Either I have been moved to someplace that duplicates my world, or at least my little corner of it, or what I am perceiving as my normal world is in fact not real at all, but is a dream. Could I be in a coma?

 

I suppose there is one other possibility, but I am not religious enough to believe that this is Hell.

 

Journal Entry 7 – Utilities

The live internet is gone, or I am unable to access it, or not fully. All indications from my computer show I am connected, I don’t receive any error messages, but the information I bring up doesn’t change. It is almost as if a copy of all the information on the internet were stored, captured and frozen at some point in time, excluding any new data or live streamed information.

This observation leads me to another significant conundrum.

The power is on, but who is keeping it on? By my journals, I am at least a week into whatever events have transpired, though I still believe it to be longer, and my lights haven’t so much as flickered once. Less impressive, but still noteworthy, I still have clean, running water. How are utilities still operating without people to maintain them? And possibly just as important, how long will they stay working?

I considered venturing out to explore further, possibly even trying to find a power plant or water treatment facility, but the fear of not making it back to my apartment has kept me from risking anything beyond walking distance. My car was still fully charged down in the garage last time I checked, but what if the recharging stations aren’t working?

 

 

When you are all alone with what appears to be an infinite amount of time to dispel, strange thoughts come inevitably into your head.

My concerns have been shifting lately, away from the observations of the material world I inhabit and more inward to introspection. In short, I am beginning to worry about my sanity, and how long it can be sustained.

My emotions are a jumbled mess, and I find myself bothered as much for what I am not feeling strongly as for the clear emotions that I express.

Am I actually lonely, or only feeling lonely because that’s the way I’m supposed to feel when there is no one else around? Do I even really understand what feeling lonely is like, or actually means?

The circumstances that are creating my loneliness are about as obvious as they could be. But why do I feel it? I could chalk it up to existential pondering I suppose, to be closely followed by madness, but that does not seem accurate.

 

My final observation for today seems to partially bridge the gap between my concern for the change in the material world and my emotional response to those changes.

When I started this journal, I jokingly commented that it was not to be the old fashioned pen and paper type, but would reflect my generation and be strictly digital, my entries faithfully typed into my computer at some frequency commensurate to my current understanding of time progressing.

Even though I remember, or believe that I remember, typing these thoughts and observations into my laptop, I have just realized that I am making this journal entry without typing at all. I am not even in my office. My thoughts are being transferred and recorded, as I think them. How I know this to be true, I can’t explain.

I feel this latest observation may hold the key to everything, but its significance has so far eluded me.

I wish there was someone here to ask what is happening, someone to discuss and decipher pros and cons of beliefs with, but I am alone, even if I don’t feel lonely as I should.

 

There is such a thing as too much peace and quiet.

 

***********************************************

 

“Earlier on the tour,” said the Android Museum guide, “after I explained how HumanKind Inc. essentially followed the lead of the famous science fiction writer, Isaac Asimov, and created governing programming laws for our androids to protect mankind above all else, someone asked about preventing accidental harm. After all, our androids are much stronger than humans. How do we assure that one of our androids can’t just accidently get carried away and crush a person’s hand by shaking it too hard, assist an elderly lady a bit too vigorously when helping her get dressed, or even get carried away and be a bit too, shall we say amorous, when providing one of their more intimate functions?”

That got a few chuckles, and even a slight blush or two from the tour group.

“I asked you then to hold that thought to later in the tour, and now is the time to circle back to it. And so, esteemed guests and those of you who simply had nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon, may I present the Sharon system.”

The tour group’s reaction was anticlimactic, as expected.

“Now I know she doesn’t look like much,” continued the guide, indicating the rather obsolete looking computer system displayed along the museum wall, its lights flashing, a steady low hum emanating from its cabinets. “But let me assure you, Sharon played an invaluable role in history, with her results and memories still used today.”

“So what is she? And why is she a she?” inquired a young lady near the front.

“Excellent questions. I do love an inquisitive group. If I can answer the last part first, and likely make a few of you blush again … it’s OK, you know who you are, I won’t point you out … Sharon’s first iteration came out of the sexbot craze of the late 2020’s. And since the primary demand at that time was for female sexbots, the original version was given a female name. So Sharon, in layman’s terms, is an AI. And yes, the original need for Sharon was to address the concerns, or safety, of a person having sex with an android that could severely hurt them.”

“But why is Sharon important to the larger android business, and what did she do that was so beneficial, you might wonder. Well, what she did was simply live a virtual life, millions of times over, and ‘remember’, in a digital sense, all the good, bad, inappropriate, sometimes horrific or even just emotional events of those lives. HumanKind programmed random input events for those lives, and measured and adjusted her responses in those different lives.”

“So all the androids you build only have a woman’s point of view of the world,” joked a man from the back of the group. The guide chuckled along with the group, if a bit exasperatedly, knowing the underlying prejudice likely hidden behind the comment. There was always at least one in every tour, it seemed.

“No, within her many simulated lives, Sharon has been a man, woman, transgender, non-binary, gay, etcetera. HumanKind has endeavored to be as inclusive as possible, we just didn’t feel the need to change the name constantly. What the company did do, was to take all the results of all those life experiences, and develop the Sharon platform, which is an integral part of each and every one of the thousands of androids made to date by the company.”

“Is that really the actual computer they used?” asked the inquisitive young lady from before.

“Yes, I can assure you, this is the actual Sharon system. And I can tell you something else. I have it on good authority that it is still intact and functional today. The data is no longer extracted, but Sharon herself is still in there. Retired if you will. And with no one feeding her random life inputs any longer, we like to think she is just enjoying the well deserved peace and quiet for a change.”

I was driven out of the U.S. by my ex-wife and the Santa Cruz Family Court. I am just one of thousands of Family Court Refugees.

The treatment I endured from both her and the courts left me on the brink of homelessness. I lost my home, my dental practice, and access to my bank accounts. But I held on—because I loved my children. Then one day, in court, my ex-wife claimed I was planning to kidnap them and flee to Australia. Without evidence, they took my daughters away and quadrupled my child support payments. Within three months, I lost my second home to foreclosure because the child support was deducted first, leaving me without access to my paycheck, my bank account—or my children.

With nothing left for me in the U.S., I returned home to Australia. There, the family court treated me fairly, setting reasonable child support and ensuring payments were made through the Tax Office. In ten years, I never missed a single payment.

In most countries, divorce is final. But in the U.S., a bitter ex can keep dragging you back to court, endlessly demanding more, simply by claiming that “conditions have changed.”

After ten years without seeing my daughters, they finally came to Australia to visit me. I went to the airport, searching for the geeky 13-year-old redhead I had last seen so many years ago. Instead, a stunning young woman approached me.

“Dad? It’s so nice to see you,” she said. Overwhelmed, I broke down in tears. Then she reassured me:

“Hello, Dad. I have no issues. I just came to see how you are and how you’re living your life.”

The following year, Jackie visited. A few years later, the three of us took an unforgettable road trip through the Pilbara and along the Coral Coast of Western Australia.

I usually spend Christmas there—but not lately.

C

Shorpy

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Michio Hoshino (Japan) is a renowned professional photographer, and below is the last photo he ever took, found on his camera while he was on assignment photographing wildlife activity around Lake Kurilskoye, Russia.

Considered a specialist nature photographer who specifically documents wildlife activities, Michio frequently travels back and forth to Alaska bringing home many stunning wildlife photographs.

In 1996, Michio received an assignment for a photo shoot at Lake Kurilskoye in Russia. The 44-year-old man was found dead in his tent after being attacked by a bear. The photo above was the last photo found on the camera he was carrying and it seemed to be the last seconds before the animal actually attacked him.

Michio is one of those people who works with all his heart and soul…

Your scenario is already ex-post. Biden wanted to starve China of technology. He had bullied Japan and Netherlands into submission. They dared not sell to China whatever machines and components that Biden forbade.

Biden’s problem was he did not know what China was cooking and what it has in the pipeline. China has a huge talent pool. It is an innovation powerhouse. Its developments were fast and numerous. Instead of being the hunter, he ended up playing catchup to China’s developments, to its frequent announcements of products and innovations. I suppose this is what his Commerce Secretary Raimondo meant when on the last days of her office, she called the whole exercise a Fool’s Errand.

But Biden was determined that US shall be the AI leader. Nvidia is the US bellwether of AI. He barred it from selling high-end AI chips to China. Trump was sold to the idea that AI dominance requires rising computing power, and large investments of money for large returns. So, with great fanfare, the bosses of Softbank, OpenAI, and Oracle, announced the establishment of a $500 billion AI fund that will ensure US leadership is unassailable.

But, lo and behold, along come DeepSeek. It spent only $5.6 million to teach its R1 model, a tiny fraction of the cost incurred by OpenAI’s o1. It achieves this through algorithm efficiency and innovation than relying on high-end chips. It made it open-source and even has mini “distilled” versions to allow researchers with limited computing power to use the model. It up-ended completely the thesis of ever rising computing power, big investments, and big returns. US attempt to dominate AI is curbed, in all likelihood, permanently.

Can China’s chip industry overtake the US?

This is not the point.

China’s purpose is democratic. Take DeepSeek’s open-source. It could make AI cheap, ubiquitous, not controlled by any one country or company, and is available for everybody.

This is not to say powerful AI chips are unimportant. Only that it is not the whole story.

China is one generation behind the US. Huawei Ascend 910C equals Nvidia’s last generation H100. Its 920 due in a year matches Blackwell, the latest Nvidia’s chip.

China is also catching up with production. Two the new SMIC fabs that will onstream this year and next each has capacity of 50,000 wafer per month, more than enough to meet its needs. Huawei plans to produce 100,000 910C and 300,000 910B chips this year.

Digitimes Asia reported that the yield in the manufacture of 910C has doubled from 20% to 40%, and is profitable. The aim is to increase it to 60% this year to match the industry norms. The yield for the older 910B is 50%.

NATO’s Worst “Nightmare,” Xi’s Missile Reaches Europe As Serbia Deploys China’s FK-3 System | CLRCUT

Sir Whiskerton and the Ware-Rabbit: A Tale of Clownish Chaos and Lunar Lunacy

Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for a tale so bizarre, so whimsical, and so utterly absurd that even Sir Whiskerton’s sharp mind will be put to the test. Today’s story is one of hummingbird bites, lunar transformations, and one very peculiar ware-rabbit who turned the farm into a circus of clownish chaos. So, grab your sense of humor and a bag of popcorn (for snacking), as we dive into Sir Whiskerton and the Ware-Rabbit: A Tale of Clownish Chaos and Lunar Lunacy.


The Hummingbird Incident

It all began on a sunny afternoon when Harriet the Rabbit was nibbling on a patch of clover near the edge of the farm. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny hummingbird zipped past, delivering a sharp peck to Harriet’s ear before darting away in a blur of iridescent feathers.

“Ow!” Harriet squeaked, clutching her ear. “What was that?!”

“That!” echoed Ditto, who had been practicing his echoing skills nearby.

The other animals gathered around, concerned but also slightly amused. “A hummingbird?” Sir Whiskerton said, narrowing his eyes. “That’s odd. Hummingbirds are usually harmless.”

“Harmless!” echoed Ditto, though he had no idea what it meant.

Harriet shrugged it off and went about her day, unaware that her life—and the farm—was about to take a very strange turn.


The First Transformation

The next full moon arrived, and with it came a transformation unlike anything the farm had ever seen. As the moon rose high in the sky, Harriet began to twitch and tremble. Her ears grew longer and floppier, her nose swelled into a massive red ball, and her feet expanded into enormous, floppy clown shoes. By the time the transformation was complete, Harriet was no longer a cute little rabbit—she was a ware-rabbit, a hulking, clownish creature with a penchant for mischief.

“What… what happened to me?!” Harriet squeaked, her voice now tinged with a comical honk.

“Honk!” echoed Ditto, who was now thoroughly confused.

The other animals stared in disbelief. Doris the Hen fainted dramatically onto a pile of hay, Rufus the Dog barked in confusion, and Porkchop the Pig let out a snort of laughter. “Well,” Porkchop said, “this is new.”


Clownish Chaos

From that night on, every full moon brought the return of the ware-rabbit. Harriet’s clownish antics ranged from harmless pranks to outright absurdities. She juggled eggs (much to Doris’s horror), honked a giant red horn at all hours of the night, and even tried to ride Bessie the Tie-Dye Cow like a unicycle.

“This is ridiculous,” Sir Whiskerton said, watching as Harriet attempted to balance on a rolling barrel. “We need to put a stop to this.”

“Stop this!” echoed Ditto, though he had no idea what it meant.


Sir Whiskerton’s Plan

Sir Whiskerton, ever the problem solver, devised a plan to help Harriet control her ware-rabbit tendencies. With the help of Chef Remy LeRaccoon, he created a special “lunar tonic” made from chamomile, lavender, and a dash of catnip. The tonic was designed to calm Harriet’s clownish impulses and help her embrace her inner rabbit.

On the next full moon, Sir Whiskerton approached Harriet with the tonic. “Drink this,” he said, holding out the vial. “It will help you control your… condition.”

Harriet, now fully transformed into the ware-rabbit, honked her nose and crossed her floppy arms. “Why should I?” she said in her comical honk-voice. “Being a ware-rabbit is fun!”

“Fun!” echoed Ditto, who was now juggling three acorns.


The Moral of the Story

As the farm animals gathered around, Sir Whiskerton took a moment to reflect. “The moral of the story,” he said, “is that sometimes, life throws us curveballs—or in this case, hummingbird bites. But even in the face of the absurd, we can find ways to adapt, grow, and even laugh at ourselves. Whether you’re a ware-rabbit, a cat, or a dog with a glowing green tail, the important thing is to embrace who you are—floppy ears and all.”

“All!” echoed Ditto, proudly.


A Happy Ending

With the help of Sir Whiskerton’s lunar tonic, Harriet learned to control her ware-rabbit tendencies. While she still transformed on full moons, her antics became more playful and less chaotic. The farm animals, once terrified of the clownish creature, now looked forward to her monthly visits, knowing they were in for a night of laughter and fun.

As for Sir Whiskerton? He returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he had once again saved the day. And as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Harriet, the ware-rabbit, honking her nose and juggling eggs under the light of the full moon.

And so, dear reader, we leave our heroes with the promise of new adventures, new challenges, and hopefully, no more hummingbird bites. Until next time, may your days be filled with laughter, love, and just a little bit of feline genius.

The End.

Say you’re on your very first date. You say no to some small thing, like they suggest a restaurant and you’re like “no, I don’t like that place” or they go to refill your wine glass and you say “no thanks, I don’t want any more” or they lean in to touch you and you say no.

If they say anything except okay, like if they say “I like this restaurant, I think we should go there” or they refill your glass anyway, red alert! Caution! Danger!

This is a person who doesn’t respect boundaries. That will become the dominant theme of your relationship—your “no” has no meaning. What’s more, shoukd you break up over it, in their mind it will be your fault. They might even accuse you of abusing them.

The first time I shot a Barrett .50 was in a gravel pit with some friends. A friend of mine had brought his Barrett .50 and had it set up on a shooting mat on a bipod.

The cartridges looked menacing compared to anything else I had ever shot. So, I got into a prone position behind the rifle, and my friend said no matter what, don’t open your mouth. And I said why, and he simply smiled and said just don’t. So now, in my mind, I am thinking, what the heck is it going to do, kick me in the face or something?

I pulled the trigger, and all this gravel and dirt flew up into the air and landed all around me. So now I knew why. The funny thing is, yes, there was a good jolt of recoil, but it was not that bad. It has a massive muzzle brake that really helps control it. My 11-year-old nephew was standing behind to the side and at the right angle to feel the pressure of the gasses from the muzzle brake push him. Everyone there wanted him to shoot it, but he didn’t because it made him nervous.

It was loud even with ear protection, but the muzzle brake did a good job of reducing the recoil. The overall blast still gave me a sense of its power, which made it extremely fun to shoot.

“It’s Just Me.” #ReedsyUnknown

Submitted into Contest #279 in response to: Center your story around a person who believes they’re the last human on Earth. view prompt

Tucker Sloan

It’s Just Me.There was no water. I wanted to kill myself, or drop dead from thirst.I had to take my meds with water. Lots of it. Twenty-three different pills a day. From Trazadone to Oxicodone to Tylenol, and what have you. Whatever I could find in a dead drifter’s backpack. I haven’t seen a drifter in days, though.So, what to do? Fight for it? Get it. Get ‘er done? Water. Life. What they call the nectar of the gods. This would begin our journey. Our journey for water. For life. A life free of ailments like dehydration. I lost so many people because of our lack of water that I would drink my own tears to keep moisture in my mouth every time I cried. Those lost. Those beautiful people lost. No water equals no life.One night, after fighting sleep and praying, God came to me with open arms. I got six hours of sleep that perfect night. Something unheard of with people who have my rare syndrome. I, after recharging, decided that I would find water. I would go at it again. Right away. The sun had not yet risen, but I did not care.“Water. Water today, please. God Almighty. If I continue to dig this well, might I please have some water? It’s just me now. Please, some water?” 

We dug crazy holes causing great water discoveries back in the day. We wanted to show our God that we were willing to do whatever it would take to survive. Gallons and gallons of clean water from our Mother Earth was delivered to us via rain. Much needed rain. We thanked the Lord with all of our hearts. Water. Life. Renewal. Soon, we would have food. I wish I could gut a boar and swallow its flesh. Smoked perfectly. A mouthwatering boar would be nice! Then I heard a squeal. A boar!

 

“Oh! Dear Lord! You have answered my prayers!”

 

The boar was caught in the snare, and his heart soon stopped beating. I didn’t have to kill it. What strength this meal will give me. I shall have strength. Sustainable energy. I was going to be fine. I was going to live. As I shaved off the boar’s skin to make a hat to shield me from the sun- plus shoulder pads, and knee pads- I cried out a prayer of gratitude to my Lord.

 

“This kill did not go to waste. Now, onward. The goal is set, and we have to reach it.”

 

Sometimes I say, “We.” I like the idea of having my son with me. My family. My loved ones. My son was beautiful. You would’ve liked him. He was sweet, and he loved my record collection very much. Sadly, it was now just me. I wanted him here. I wanted him here right now. I wish I could’ve protected him, but I now have to move on. I am alive, and he is dead and buried. Gone forever. I have many days ahead of me- I hope.

 

We named him Isaiah, my son. Once we saw his beautiful, sparkling, blue eyes, we knew we had to name him with a beautiful, Biblical name.

 

I’d scream out, “Izzy!!!” When we had ice, and snow storms, I’d scream out, “Izzy! My baby!” And he’d come running right to me without a care in the world. He would even be barefoot. He did not care. He would throw snowballs, and build snowmen with his neighbor every winter.

 

We think Isaiah sleep walks, and that scares me. He could have got lost in the cold. Sorry. I got lost in my own thought. He’s gone now. They’re all gone. It’s me now. Just me. Lonely me.

 

Last night, I heard a car honk. I lit fire! I yelled! I packed my bag hoping for rescue from the cold. But when I got to the road- there was no one there to help me, so I cried again. Maybe it was just some strange bird. A bird I’d like to eat. I wandered back slowly. I was deprived of hope, and was in full despair. Maybe I was hallucinating.

 

Pink clouds. I kept seeing pink clouds with a silver-blue lining. In my bedroom, in the bath- pink clouds were everywhere. I soon learned to ignore them. Maybe I had lost it. I cried again as I entered my lonely cabin. It was just me now. I was alone. No one left. They just died on me. They did not fight!

 

As I read Revelations, I feared I was losing my faith. I did pray. I prayed many beautiful prayers. It was the only thing that lifted my spirits. I continued to pray. Prayers like:

 

“Dear Lord. Almighty God. Save me from my dark thoughts. Thoughts that could end me up in hell. And forgive me for sleeping with Jodie that one night. She was a church friend, so I still feel bad about that.”

 

I spoke to my Heavenly Father aloud every day. It seemed to be just Him and I. That made me cry,  too. With no one to look at- no one to touch- I began to become unglued.

 

Anger. Violent outbursts. Panic attacks! Screaming at the Almighty just begging to be heard.

 

“Save me!” I cried! “Take away my breath, my life, and let me be with you so I don’t feel so alone!” And He did not listen to me that day. No, He did not listen.

 

I carefully traveled to a cliff the next day. A beautiful cliff. The place I wanted to die.

 

“Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, just take me!” I cried as I approached the edge.

 

Falling to my death was a thought that always haunted my dreams. It tormented my soul in ways I can’t explain, but there was something about that cliff side. Something beautiful about it. This was the place. The place in my dreams where I once saw two beautiful women pet a wild swan right where I currently stood. They then hugged for the longest time, and moved away from the cliff.

 

I wanted to jump off of it as if demons were driving me to my death. Forcing me to jump. Then they showed up behind me in droves under the cover of night.

 

“Run from us!” They taunted, and I ran as fast as I could into a dead end. I cried again. I did not want demons to be around me, so I took a deep breath, and I ran the long way home praying aloud for the demons to flee in Jesus’s name. They didn’t completely stay away. They watched me the whole way home. They multiplied. There were creatures of purple and green with many limbs like a centipede’s. They had horns, and antlers, and over-sized, well, you know.

 

I ran, and I ran without looking back for fear God would turn me into a pillar of salt.

 

I had run from evil. The demons. The dark. As I approached my residence, a rainbow appeared even though it had not been raining. Thank you, God- I said to myself. A joyful moment at the end of a long, hard day. I needed that. I wish you could’ve seen it, too, but, alas, it’s just me.

Not being a Briton who lived through it, I can’t answer this question.

But I can say that, speaking as an American, I really dislike the way that question is phrased.

If we’re ahead of Britain, it’s mainly ’cause, for close to three years, Britain stood alone in Europe against the Axis. China had, for practical purposes, been doing the same thing on the other side of the world, for close to five years.

Both countries were getting slammed in a way countries had never been slammed before, while we were sitting around pretending it had nothing to do with us.

It may be exaggerating, but, personally, it seems to me that China and Britain were pretty much what were keeping Tojo and Hitler from shaking hands in the middle of the Mississippi.

So when we finally got dragged in, kicking and screaming, we were fresh, we had two oceans between most of our people and the Enemy, we had industrial capacity that hadn’t been bombed to splinters, and now we had us a war that was going to carry us out of the Depression. And we were fresh as a daisy ’cause Britain and China (with the help of lend-lease, to be fair) were carrying the load all that time.

And when we did “surpass” them, what did the UK do? They (and pretty much their whole Commonwealth, too) stood by us throughout the whole Cold War as our closest and most reliable ally.

They were one of our most enthusiastic trading partners.

They were on our side in virtually every diplomatic squabble.

There’s an old Irish saying. You can’t always count on an ally to be a friend, but you can always count on a friend to be an ally.

Britain has been, and is, a friend to the US. More than that, they’ve been family. And the things that make the US a country worth fighting for and dying for are mostly direct bequests from Britain. There’d be no Declaration or Constitution, if there hadn’t first been a Magna Carta. No US Congress without Parliament. No New England without original England.

Shakespeare. Dickens. Austen. Tolkien. Conan freakin’ Doyle! J.K. freakin’ Rowling! All part of our heritage ’cause they’re part of Britain’s.

If we “surpassed” ‘em, we couldn’t’ve done it without their help.

Addendum:

I’m flattered, and very pleased, by the number of upvotes I’ve gotten. This is by far the most approved-of post I’ve ever made on Quora. I’m frankly also more than a little surprised. Is such a sentiment really that unusual coming from a Catholic American of Irish extraction?

Brian Explains To The Girls Why Men Won’t Commit to Them

Trump’s Tariff Wars Will Hurt U.S. The Most

President Donald Trump seems to believe that tariffs can help to bring manufacturing back to the States.

Trump’s tariffs have so far been aimed at four targets, the U.S. neighbors Canada and Mexico, China and, soon to come, the European Union.

During his first term Trump negotiated the U.S.M.C.A. with Mexico and Canada, a free trade zone covering the U.S. and its neighbors. He is now attempting to change the rules of it. But the way he does so is inconsistent.

On January 21 Trump promised tariffs on Canada and Mexico. On February 1 he announced them. Three days later he delayed the implementation of those tariffs. On February 27 he said the tariffs would go into effect on March 4. On March 5 he was again forced to pull back (archived):

President Trump said on Wednesday that he would pause tariffs on cars coming into the United States from Canada and Mexico for one month, after a 25 percent tariff that he placed on America’s closest trading partners a day earlier roiled stock markets and prompted stiff resistance from industry.Karoline Leavitt, the White House press secretary, read a statement from Mr. Trump on Wednesday saying that White House had spoken with the three largest auto makers, and that a one-month exemption would be given to cars coming in through United States-Mexico-Canada Agreement.

A one-month exemption is a joke. It takes years to move parts production from one country to another. There are hundreds of companies in Mexico, Canada and the U.S. which make the myriad parts that go into a car. It is an completely integrated industry which took years to build.

U.S. car manufacturers had trusted that U.S.M.C.A. would hold. Should the tariffs apply anytime soon they will have to increase their prices by hefty margins or halt their production.

Trump’s tariffs in north America can largely be seen as pressure method for gaining some valuable concessions from neighboring countries. They are part of a negotiation scheme and unlikely to be a longer term problem.

But Trump’s tariffs against China are a different animal. The Trump administration views China as a strategic enemy and would like to seriously hurt it. But China is able to hit back (archived):

Minutes after President Trump’s latest tariffs took effect, the Chinese government said on Tuesday that it was imposing its own broad tariffs on food imported from the United States and would essentially halt sales to 15 American companies.China’s Ministry of Finance put tariffs of 15 percent on imports of American chicken, wheat, corn and cotton and 10 percent tariffs on other foods, ranging from soybeans to dairy products. In addition, the Ministry of Commerce said 15 U.S. companies would no longer be allowed to buy products from China except with special permission, including Skydio, which is the largest American maker of drones and a supplier to the U.S. military and emergency services.

Lou Qinjian, a spokesman for China’s National People’s Congress, chastised the United States for violating the World Trade Organization’s free trade rules. “By imposing unilateral tariffs, the U.S. has violated W.T.O. rules and disrupted the security and stability of the global industrial and supply chains,” he said.

Trump claims that tariffs on China are necessary to stop the illegal import of Fentanyl, an addictive synthetic opioid widely used in the U.S.

China counters that it already has put strong controls on Fentanyl and its precursor chemicals. It can not be blamed for a problem that solely exists within the United States:

The reason why the fentanyl issue in the US is so serious has never been external; it has nothing to do with China, which strictly prohibits drugs. Illicit fentanyl started to enter the US market as early as the 1980s. Later, media revealed that US pharmaceutical companies concealed the addictive properties of synthetic opioids and that doctors overprescribed painkillers, leading to widespread addiction among patients. Statistics show that with 5 percent of the world’s population, the US consumes 80 percent of the world’s opioids, but still has not permanently scheduled fentanyl-related substances as a class. The almost abnormal demand has boosted the development of the illegal fentanyl market, fundamentally contributing to the proliferation of fentanyl in the US.

The Global Times points to the social causes of drug addiction:

[T]he lack of social governance in the US has exacerbated the drug problem. US Vice President JD Vance described a similar situation in his autobiography. Many low-income families live in chaotic community environments with a lack of education and supervision. This has led to many children living in adverse conditions of drug abuse and trafficking, forming a vicious cycle that is difficult to break.

China’s government spokesperson is promising to fight back:

Intimidation does not scare us. Bullying does not work on us. Pressuring, coercion or threats are not the right way of dealing with China. Anyone using maximum pressure on China is picking the wrong guy and miscalculating. If the U.S. truly wants to solve the fentanyl issue, then the right thing to do is to consult with China by treating each other as equals.If war is what the U.S. wants, be it a tariff war, a trade war or any other type of war, we’re ready to fight till the end.

Such language from China is far from the usual one. It therefore seems unlikely that there will soon be a compromise between the U.S. and China.

With respect to Europe the U.S. claims that it is importing more goods from Europe than it can export to it. That is true but does not cover the full width of economical relations. The U.S. is exporting way more services (think software) to Europe than Europe is exporting to the U.S. The total of goods and services exchanges is a wash. If the U.S. insist on putting tariffs on European goods the EU can counter adding a toll to all U.S. services. The results would be, in theory, a tie.

Tariffs however are dangerous. They distort markets and add significant costs to all participants. Their pain will be mostly felt by U.S. consumers:

All the planned tariffs would take the US tariff rate to above 20% in just a few weeks, the highest since pre-WWI. As Joseph Politano points out, the costs of these actions are enormous, covering $1.3trn in US imports or roughly 42% of all goods brought into the United States, or the single-largest tariff hike since the infamous Smoot-Hawley Act of nearly a century ago.

The total costs of these tariffs would raise $160bn from US consumers and businesses paying more for their purchases of imported goods, with more to come. Trump’s Tuesday measures are only 40% of his proposed measures. If the next batch is implemented, it would raise the cost of imports to over $600bn, or 1.6% of GDP.

So worried is the International Chamber of Commerce in the US, that it reckoned that the world economy could face a crash similar to the Great Depression of the 1930s unless Trump rows back on his plans. “Our deep concern is that this could be the start of a downward spiral that puts us in 1930s trade-war territory,” said Andrew Wilson, deputy secretary-general of the ICC. So Trump’s measures may go well beyond “a little disturbance”.

Posted by b on March 6, 2025 at 15:55 UTC | Permalink

Chocolate Coconut Baby Cakes

Chocolate Coconut Baby Cakes

 

Kitchen tools, gourmet foods, baking mixes, and hard-to-find baking ingredients mentioned in this article are available at The Prepared Pantry.

By Debbie Frantzen

Baby Cakes are cupcakes designed for dessert. Emphasis is on taste, not design, and fancy decorations are not necessary though they should be attractive enough to serve at a dinner party.

We first made these from scratch, little chocolate cupcakes with coconut added and served in a caramel sauce. The recipe follows. But a mix is quicker and easier. We used a Fudgy Baby Cakes Mix. Instead of making the caramel sauce from scratch, we used a buttermilk syrup mix. My interpretation of buttermilk syrup is “butterscotch and caramel combined.”

Chocolate Coconut Baby Cakes (Mixes)

1. Mix a Fudgy Baby Cakes mix and make cupcakes per the package instructions but add 3/4 cup shredded coconut. There are chocolate pieces in the mix and the combination will be a deep chocolate and coconut combination.

2. Make a batch of buttermilk syrup. We added coconut flavor to make a coconut buttermilk syrup but the dessert is great without doing so. A teaspoon and a half of coconut flavor is about right.

3. After the cupcakes are baked, remove the paper liners and place one cupcake on each dessert plate. Pour warm buttermilk syrup over the cupcakes and top with dollops of whipped cream. Serve while the syrup is still warm and before the whipped cream melts.

Chocolate Coconut Baby Cakes (Scratch)

This is straightforward to prepare and fancy enough to serve to guests.

Ingredients

For the Cakes

  • 1 cup butter
  • 4 ounces unsweetened baking chocolate
  • 1 1/2 cup sugar
  • 3 large eggs
  • 2/3 cup milk
  • 1/2 tablespoon baking powder
  • 1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 cup flaked sweetened coconut

For the Caramel Sauce

  • 1 (12-ounce) can evaporated milk
  • 1 1/4 cup brown sugar
  • 6 tablespoons butter
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

  1. Prepare baking cups by greasing well and flouring the bottoms or use paper liners. A jumbo muffin pan works well. We sellpaper liners for jumbo muffins pans.
  2. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F.
  3. Cakes: In a large mixing bowl, melt the butter and chocolate together in a microwave stirring once or twice.
  4. Stir in the sugar until it is dissolved. hen stir in the eggs one at a time. Add the milk.
  5. Stir in the baking powder and flour. Finally, fold in the coconut.
  6. Spoon the batter in the prepared cups.
  7. Bake for 23 to 28 minutes depending on the size of the baking cups. A toothpick inserted in the center of the cake should come out clean when done. Cool on wire racks.
  8. Serve with Caramel Sauce.
  9. Caramel Sauce: Mix all the ingredients except the extract in a heavy saucepan. Heat over medium heat, stirring often, until the mixture boils. Gently boil for eight to ten minutes or until the mixture thickens. Remove from the heat and stir in the extract. Cool until the sauce thickens to serving consistency.

No. The US will destroy itself because Trump will long be out of office before Japan and South Korea can build enough ships. Five or six years ago, Japan and South Korea had much larger market share. Today, China is dominant.

What is being missed is the impact on American inflation if Chinese goods have to come in by rail from Mexican or Canadian ports. How will the US build anything if China hits back by stopping the sale of essential minerals? The US chip-building and defence industries would have to shut down production and assembly lines. Automobile factories can’t get parts and would shut down too. You can kiss the ag sector goodbye.

When it comes to trade, Trump is an idiot. He believes that tariffs and sanctions are reasonable as much as the Democrats do, but the Democrats are too cowardly to stand by their stupid ideas.

https://youtu.be/p4YkgmIqRJE

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