Uh, I dealt with 10 years of this from liberals. You're just talking about a group of people I've only observed for, say, 3 years or so. I think it's just the natural consequence of feeling like you're in power so you feel no need to justify yourself to anyone.

Experiment A-Specimen Diaxial interaction observed Acetonide injection to ...->aggressive reaction by [25] -it'll be nice if there's more better microscope...-Ask Peophan. red text: Not that bad-35. Wouldn't it be nice to dissect spinal nerve deeper?

BUT HERE'S WHAT I'VE OBSERVED IN MY EXPERIENCE: Action → Evidence → Confidence You take a step. You learn something. You survive. You improve. And suddenly you're more confident than you were before. ↓

"As H. L. #Mencken observed, “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.” @menckensociety usni.org/OfficerDilemma

prompt "flow of time stood still" and pic provided by Kimberly. Thank you, Kimberly! @bionicanadian #poetry #poem #amwriting x.com/bionicanadian/status/2… Time was in love with her elegant flair, the red train of her dress, and the aqua strands of her hair. From the edge of the clouds, she observed the Time dance. As the eons waltzed by, she watched in a trance. From her sky kingdom above, she refused to be parted. She wouldn't let go, she never departed. Time had promised her a dance. the best of them all, but she must wait for his glance, before she could from the sky fall. The long awaited invite finally was nodded. She was a beautiful sight when in the sky she was spotted. Arriving below, in shock she did look, the ages were done, had been put in the book! And when the flow of time stopped... as the last party favor popped... it was all she could do not to scream "Fudge you!"

Scientists Discover 31 New Deep-Sea Species in Latest Schmidt Ocean Institute Expedition: An expedition to international waters off the coast of Brazil used state-of-the-art imaging systems to confirm new midwater species and observed the living 3D… uwpho.to/3SbhcX7

- **The claim reflects local folklore**: Abundant Jamun (Nerale) fruit this season in Karnataka is widely reported anecdotally as unseen in decades, aligning with traditional Indian sayings that heavy summer Jamun crops signal impending drought due to trees sensing water stress. - **Stress fruiting (masting) has scientific grounding**: Under groundwater depletion or environmental stress, some trees like drought-tolerant Syzygium cumini redirect energy to maximize fruit/seed production for species survival, halting vegetative growth—a real plant physiology response observed in ecology. - **Predictive value is limited**: While plausible as an early sign of soil moisture issues, no specific peer-reviewed studies confirm Jamun yields reliably forecast severe drought; other factors like prior rainfall and pollination also drive bumper crops—official weather data provides better forecasts.

Blog dis: The wildest video game of them all... I don't play indoor video games, and haven't in at least two decades, though I know plenty of persons who love their video game-playing time, navigating the many pitfalls, to improve and flex their skill level. I've got nothing against those who have fun doing so either because I've a nephew who plays with his wife and two boys. This is their version of family time, and I applaud them for getting together. I, on the other hand, engage is what I call the wildest video game of them all and this is cycling in real time, outside, amongst the unpredictability of downtown activity, or sometimes bowered on either side by trees, zooming through the wooded areas through which the shared paths have been carved. Cycling outdoors is like a video game, only more dangerous, more visceral and one that challenges you literally every single bloody second you're bum is parked on your seat, moving at whatever speed. I cycle for many reasons, mainly for exercise, to enjoy that feeling of moving fast, and to be outside. I'm all too familiar with the dangers of cycling outside, though decidedly different than a video game, boobytrapped with hidden villains. Pretty sure, at least 99% sure, I've experienced it all when it comes to cycling. I've been cycling on Ottawa's shared paths for 30 years, and I've seen the additions, the perpetual repairs, and the innumerable detours that come and go. Times have changed now, as have the rules. Number one rule: don't get into an accident. Seems simple enough, right? Wrong! You may stick to your speed, and stay out of harm's way from speedsters coming your way, or zipping by you at break-neck speed, but you will regardless have to deal with more than one hidden obstacle, what comes out of nowhere fast, and what you had failed to anticipate. Hazards can include other cyclists, the worst are men in cycling silks, throttling at full-speed who don't feel the need to announce their presence as they whiz by, to pass you, sometimes cycling side-by-side, who will pass while you're in the process of passing another cyclist in front of you—analogous to a car passing your car while you're passing a car. Then there are the zoned-out pedestrians on their mobiles, some of whom stand in the middle of the shared path divided by a solid yellow line, as though they've zero fear of being hit, when in reality they are zombies, oblivious to the dangers until they get hit. There are dogs off the leash, and I've been chased by them a couple of times, as well as electric bikes, electric scooters (those who purchase their own and can travel speeds that exceed 56 Kph) as well as skateboarders, motorized wheels for the elderly (they, too, are just as bad at driving a motorized wheelchair as they are in a normal car). The standard hazard of double-breasted cyclists, who take up both sides of the path, see no issue with having a good ol' lollygag, to chat non-stop, without a care in the world if they're blocking the other side for oncoming traffic. There are roller skiers who practice in summer, when it's not winter, to keep in shape of course, and there are newly arrived Canadians who walk on the wrong side, and even when you ring a bell, they'll look at you sideways, having no intentions to move. Worse if it's a family of five or ten out for a stroll. You might as well fuhgeddaboudit. I've narrowly missed hitting chipmunks dashing across the path at the absolute last possible microsecond. I've been forced to cycle around large snapping turtles, apparently confused as to the purpose of a shared path and quite happy to wait it out in the center, pushing cyclists to go around. One time I had stopped to take a picture, and then to pick up the turtle to send it on its way to the water's edge, and it was ready to bite off my finger. They're much stronger than they look, and move fast, though not as fast as a bike. 🐢 In the early morning, I've cycled past a fox out looking for breakfast, or observed a hawk sitting on a branch, at the edge, while my mind is telling myself that when I spot a hawk in the wild, the old superstition goes that change is coming into my life, generally meaning that someone will be leaving my life. This has happened maybe once, and the superstition actually came true. Who knew? Distractions are everywhere, just like a video game whose designers purposely throw as much at you at various junctures, to test your skill and focus. I don't wear ear-buds when I cycle for this reason. I insist on being able to hear every horn, every bell, even the oblivious blathering behind me. The least favorable, in terms of cycling to a successful end, the video-cycling game, as I call it, is to avoid the gnarly Canadian geese with their goslings. Mama and papa geese watch the cyclists with a weary eye, ready to pounce on you, while their bubble-head goslings have no concept for what's going on around them. You don't want to rush through a gaggle of geese waddling across the shared path, I tell you this much, because one woman tried that and papa goose went after her, knocked her off her seat, by pouncing on her head, and she spent six months in hospital with a serious concussion. Nobody needs this, any more than any cyclist wants to plough into an open car door, when the driver fails to look in the side mirror, while parked on an angle on the side of the road. This happened to me the other week. I wasn't traveling fast because when on regular roads, I slow down on purpose, to watch the doors of parked cars, though in this instance I made the terrible assumption that when I saw the driver look in his rear view mirror, I assumed he saw me, only for me to cycle straight into his door, that popped open like a Pepsi can tab. I fell over and my first sight was of another a car coming right behind me whose driver hit the breaks. Whew! My bike was fine. I was fine. My elbow was scuffed up. I acquired a delightful bruise on my inner, left thigh, thanks to my bike falling on me. I also know to cycle with my mouth closed, at all times, though I'm not successful 100% of the time. There are nasty bugs flying in the air, when you cycle through the wooded areas. I've been struck in the chin, nose, cheeks and forehead, and have been bitten so badly that by the time I cycled to a restroom, to stop and check the area, it was already swollen to the size of a quarter. Midges, too, come out in full force when Spring has sprung, and I guarantee you that cycling through a million of these insects is nasty. I've also picked up wasps that hitch a ride between my breasts, and their angry buzzing is distracting. The law of averages would suggest that whatever number of times you've been able to enjoy a lovely ride, without mishaps or close-calls, you will invariably have a dust-up, and a serious one at that, and I've also gone through this, when I was cut off by a car, despite me having the right of way. I cycled straight into the passenger's side door. It took me 10 days to heal from this, and my bike was toast. I suffered a black eye, stitches below my eyebrow, and I acquired a new scar. Did it stop me from cycling? Hell no! You cannot allow yourself to be guided by fear. There are persons who get struck by cars while walking on the sidewalk. I had recently witnessed this back in May, when a pedestrian was hit straight on by a car, that literally drove off the road, onto the curb, and slammed into him, and proceeded to slam into a building, shattering the entire wall of windows, and screeching to a halt. The man was 21 years old, and he suffered serious injuries, with the main artery in his leg slashed. I don't know what came of him but he was rushed to hospital by paramedics. So, it's not only dangerous to cycle outside, it's equally as dangerous to walk outside. It's also dangerous to live. Even pedestrians crossing the road will step into the dedicated cycle lanes without bothering to check to their left for oncoming cycling traffic. Every time I'll yell at them, "Always look!" Does yelling do anything? Not really. It makes me feel better, however, to get these thoughts off my chest, such as when I hurl obscenities at drivers for disobeying lights, who slam their foot on the pedal when it's a yellow light. Their car's hood will barely inch past the yellow light, which essentially means they're driving through a red light. It's wise never to assume. Wait a bit when the light turns green for the speedsters to fly past. The video-cycling game is rife with twists and turns, and obstacles coming at you out of nowhere, even when you're cycling off the roads, and on the shared path, and also when you need to temporarily leave the path, onto the road, to get to the next section of path. City planners added dedicated cycle lanes on the main roads in downtown Ottawa, yet even these are not safe, as cars will often hog part of the cycle lane, despite having an entire lane all to themselves. I must admit that when I see police out, having set up a blockade, to catch speedsters, it gives me extra special pleasure watching the officers dole out one ticket after another. The motorists are really and truly the most dangerous villain on the roads, not only to themselves and other motorists but also to cyclists and pedestrians. When I stop at a four-way, waiting for the light to change, if there's a truck or a van to my left, I know to be mindful. If the driver has to make a right turn, I'm in their blind spot, and they'll force me off the road. I do notice, however, that their signal light to denote turning right isn't even turned on. This applies to buses who are holy terrors, and have caused deaths by dragging pedestrians under their wheels. A cyclist doesn't stand a chance, so I know to hang back and let them pass me, with pleasure. I am well aware that there are hugely popular video-cycling games for players to compete in safe-races, as I call them. These games cannot capture the pain of crashing to the ground, or of being hit by a car, driving into a car door and toppling over, or slamming on the breaks because a dog off the leash has darted out of nowhere, and somehow still manages to run into you, to crash into your bike. Nor can these video games capture the feeling of cycling in temperatures that exceed 34 degrees, with sweat slicking your arms, and your hair soaked, your arms and legs hot and red from the burn of the sun. I picked up a trick with my water bottle, to fill it up only one third, and then to put it in the freezer on a slant. When you're ready, fill up the rest of the bottle with ice-cold water and whenever you need to quench your thirst, you'll guzzle ice-cold water for your entire ride that tastes like the best-damn water ever. But if I may, and this has happened only once, I'm at a loss as to explain the mindset of some riders. One time as I was attempting to pass another cyclist on my right, I rang my bell and then pulled out and began to speed up to overtake her. Another man coming far down the path from the opposite direction had obviously decided in his pee-brain that he didn't like this, and he sped up to prevent me, by pulling into the center of the line to block me off. I peddled as fast as I could to avoid being forced to play chicken with this dumb-a**, who could've easily just continued cycling on his side of the path, to allow me to safely complete my pass. You're not always meant to be able to reach people with logic. All you can really do is remain focused, and be ready to hit the breaks when necessary. Weather too plays a role of challenging your ride, such as felled trees, that are massively huge, blocking both sides of the path, after a brutal storm of winds. It takes the city days before coming on-site to saw these felled trees into pieces, to be removed. There are also pot-holes galore, mainly on the roads, but you'll find them too on the shared path. I shan't forget too the massive puddles, after a rainstorm, that splatter your behind and dirty up your bike. There are tire punctures that aren't even noticed until you sense that unmistakable feeling of riding your rims. I've been fortunate to have been helped by men in the past, to change my tire, while I watch and learn, and also when I've initiated the tire change myself, and then along comes a kindly man to help me finish up the job. To these men, I say thank you heaps vs those male cyclists who laugh when they ride past me, while I'm changing my tire, to yell, "Sucker!" Now I invest every two years in a set of puncture-proof tires called GatorSkin by Contintental. These are the kind that are used in the harshest of conditions, and I'm able to ride over gravel and pebbles, without fear of puncturing a hole, given the never-ending, year-round construction in the City of Ottawa. Construction detours, incidentally, will change on a daily basis, so even if you're familiar with multiple routes, every new detour will take you along a different route. I understand there are single-player video games that are defined as Roguelike and Procedural, so that every instance you sit down to play, they change each time, to give you the player a dynamic and unpredictable experience. This is by far the best definition of what it means to cycle the real-life video-game. I love it. I love it. I love it... though I can hate it too, more so when damage occurs to my bike. After my accident, back in 2020, I invested in a German-made titanium CUBE bike that's made all the difference when it comes to powering through hills, another example of how a cycling video-game cannot compare to the real thing. Safe riding folks!

My neighbor, Walt-san, cuts his vast garden mounted upon a motorized steed, a ritual I have observed now for weeks. A riding mower. I had seen them in stores and assumed they were for farms. Walt's yard is large, yes, but it is a YARD. And yet at 9 a.m. he rode out of the garage like a knight at first light, lowered the blades, and began his circuit with a beverage at his side. In Japan, lawns are trimmed kneeling, by hand, sometimes with scissors. Gardening is penance. Walt has made it cavalry. "You ride," I said when he idled near the fence. "Beats pushing." He raised his drink slightly. A toast. To what, I do not know. To the principle of the thing. "And the cup holder. It comes built in?" "Two of 'em." TWO. One for the present drink and one for the future drink. The engineers foresaw the entire campaign. He offered to let me ride. I wish to record that I declined twice, as etiquette requires, and accepted on the third offer with unseemly speed. I have commanded men. I have stood in cold rivers at dawn. Nothing prepared me for the dignity of mowing Walt's east field at four miles per hour with a lemonade at my right hand. The turning radius is poor; my first row curved like a question mark. By the third row I had found the rhythm, and the cut grass flew, and I understood why every man on this street looks ten years younger on Saturday mornings. The shame is this: my own lawn takes eleven minutes with a push mower. Eleven. There is no honest argument for cavalry on a postage stamp. I am constructing the argument anyway. A man does not walk where he may ride. He mounts, sips, and mows. Walt says when I get one, we can do laps. I do not know what this means agriculturally. I will be buying the machine to find out.

That's a fair point and the Thatcher analogy is a good one. She came to power having watched Heath's government collapse under the weight of exactly the compromises she refused to make, and that experience shaped both her diagnosis and her resolve. Failure observed closely enough does harden the lesson in a way that theoretical commitment doesn't. The question is whether the failure has been properly internalised or merely repackaged. Thatcher didn't just observe the Barber Boom, she drew the correct conclusions from it and held them under sustained pressure for years. The test for any politician claiming the same journey isn't the diagnosis they offer in opposition. It's whether they hold the line when the permanent state, the Lords, the media and their own backbenches push back simultaneously, as they always do, and always will. Experience is an advantage. But only if the lesson learned is the right one, and only if the resolve to act on it survives contact with power. That's the part nobody can know until it's tested.

A new modelling study @LancetDigitalH demonstrates that large language models can be systematically induced into seven distinct affective states, including fear, #anxiety, anger, disgust, sadness, worry, and stress, using validated psychological protocols originally designed for humans. Across six frontier #LLMs including GPT-4o and multiple Llama variants, researchers successfully induced these states, measured them with standard psychometric scales, and then reversed them using mindfulness-based relaxation and debriefing techniques. The study also showed that sadness induction produced a consistent negativity bias in sentence completion tests, mirroring cognitive patterns observed in human #depression. While the authors emphasise that LLMs do not possess genuine emotions, this scalable, reproducible, and ethically unconstrained framework opens new possibilities for piloting therapeutic interventions, refining experimental designs, and investigating mechanisms underlying #mentalhealth conditions, offering a complementary approach to traditional biological and clinical models in psychopathology research. thelancet.com/journals/landi…

Create image: use the attached image as the main facial reference with high precision. Preserve exact facial structure, natural asymmetry, skin tone, facial proportions, and recognizable identity. A candid late-2000s Sony Ericsson K800i Cyber-shot phone-camera snapshot taken inside a modest Filipino family home during a sunny morning. The camera is positioned low near the kitchen counter, as if a family member casually snapped the photo while passing by. The moment feels ordinary, authentic, and naturally observed rather than posed. The subject is washing breakfast dishes beside a stainless-steel sink near a jalousie window. One hand holds a white plate covered with soap bubbles while the other hand rinses it under running water. She appears focused on the task while quietly listening to morning neighborhood sounds drifting through the window. Her expression feels relaxed, content, and genuinely occupied with what she is doing rather than acknowledging the camera. Composition: handheld Dutch tilt caused by imperfect amateur camera handling. Subject positioned toward the right third of the frame. Large sections of the kitchen counter, dish rack, window area, and surrounding household details occupy the left side, creating visible negative space. Framing feels casually composed by a family member rather than professionally arranged. She wears a simple outfit: a soft white fitted sleeveless camisole paired with comfortable cotton shorts. A light pastel kitchen apron is tied loosely around her waist, showing natural folds, wrinkles, and everyday use. Accessories remain minimal and practical. Her hair is dark brown and loosely tied into a casual bun with a few soft strands escaping around the cheeks, temples, and neckline. Hair appears naturally tidy with gentle movement from the breeze entering through the window. Avoid frizzy, rough, overly textured, or messy hair. Her makeup is soft Y2K glam: feathered brows, subtle eyeliner, soft lashes, luminous skin, softly flushed cheeks, and glossy nude-pink lips. Sony Ericsson K800i Cyber-shot aesthetic: authentic 2006 phone-camera photo, bright xenon flash fill mixed with strong natural morning window light, neutral-cool white balance, vivid but natural colors, strong microcontrast, flash-frozen facial features with slight overall digital softness, subtle handheld motion softness, mild edge softness around hair and clothing, slight focus falloff toward frame edges, early JPEG compression, slight sharpening halos around hair strands, apron edges, soap bubbles, fingers, dish rack, and sink details, visible shadow noise in darker kitchen corners, cool flash hotspots on forehead, cheeks, nose bridge, lips, arms, shoulders, and highlighted hair strands, glossy skin reflections, slightly blown highlights on white dishes, metal sink surfaces, soap bubbles, and sunlit window frames, crushed shadow pockets beneath cabinets and furniture, and unmistakable Friendster-era family snapshot energy. Foreground: blurred dish soap bottle, sponge, and countertop edge pass close to the lens, naturally matching the kitchen environment and creating depth without covering the face. Background contains jalousie windows, drying dish rack, hanging kitchen towels, rice cooker, plastic containers, family calendar, wooden cabinets, and warm lived-in Filipino household details illuminated by soft morning sunlight. --ar 4:5 Negative prompt: AI-stiff pose, mannequin expression, fashion-editorial posture, fake candidness, frozen hands, awkward anatomy, extra fingers, extra hands, broken wrists, detached limbs, frizzy hair, rough messy hair, beauty filter, waxy skin, modern iPhone HDR, cinematic grading, DSLR blur, shallow depth of field, disposable camera effect, timestamp, watermark, distorted face, unreadable face.

Orcas have been observed flipping great white sharks upside down before surgically removing their livers. While great white sharks are among the ocean’s most formidable predators, orcas have developed a highly effective hunting tactic to take them down. Researchers studying a pod of killer whales in the Gulf of California have documented this sophisticated strategy: the orcas flip juvenile great white sharks onto their backs, triggering a condition called tonic immobility. This natural reflex puts the shark into a temporary trance-like state, leaving it paralyzed and defenseless. In three separate documented encounters, the pod known as “Moctezuma’s pod” was seen chasing young great whites to the surface, rolling them over, and then precisely extracting their massive, nutrient-rich livers. The liver is the ultimate prize. In great white sharks, it can make up as much as 25% of their body weight and is loaded with energy-dense oils that the sharks use for buoyancy. For orcas, it represents one of the highest-calorie meals available in the ocean. After securing the liver, the orcas were observed sharing it among pod members, strong evidence that this specialized hunting technique is culturally transmitted and learned across generations. This behavior adds to the growing list of remarkable hunting traditions developed by different orca populations, which include creating waves to wash seals off ice floes, deliberately beaching themselves to catch sea lions, and even hunting large whales. What makes the discovery especially notable is that the victims are juvenile great whites. Adult great whites often flee an area entirely when orcas appear, sometimes abandoning productive hunting grounds for months. Younger sharks, however, appear less experienced at recognizing the threat. Scientists believe that changing ocean conditions and shifting nursery habitats may be bringing more young great whites into contact with these skilled orca hunters, opening up new opportunities for this dramatic predation strategy. [Higuera-Rivas, J. E., Pancaldi, F., Villegas, M., et al. (2026). Novel evidence of interaction between killer whales (Orcinus orca) and juvenile white sharks (Carcharodon carcharias) in the Gulf of California, Mexico. Frontiers in Marine Science, 12, 1667683. DOI: 10.3389/fmars.2025.1667683]

The two photos may have been taken under different lighting, weather, and seasonal conditions, which can exaggerate color differences. The meme provides no dates or sourcing for the images. Green algae appeared shortly after the project was completed. Workers were observed removing algae, and Interior Department officials said it was a temporary startup issue caused by residual algae in dormant supply lines.

I'll bet some sage Neanderthal observed the pattern and grunted it out.

Well observed Raj …

LAPD🚔 🚨Disturbance in Progress…involving a man w/ knife🚨 •Officers arrived & observed 2 men wrestling over control of a 🔪 •Frederick Spells was the aggressor & refused to drop the 🔪 •40mm less lethal rounds deployed but were ineffective. •As Spells attempted to stab the victim…an officer fired a single non-fatal shot to the arm💥

Dude... you've just admitted that your case is based on Faith, not Evidence. The scientific case is based on Evidence from Observed Reality. Your case is directly in conflict with Observed Reality (making it indistinguishable from Grandiose Delusion). You're dismissed.

In his 1873 book, "The Conquest Of The World By The jews," Major Osman Bey observed: "If you attack one jew in any place in the world, all the jews of the five continents arise as one man...The Popes expel their enemies from the church, but the jews expel their enemies from the Stock Exchange and from social connections, and finally condemn us to starve without a roof to cover us." But it's actually worse. You needn't attack them, you only need to opt out. Just ask Randy Weaver, and now Austin Franco. You're not allowed to opt out, because the parasites can't survive without their host—and they know it.

I was previously a fostering social worker. A fostered baby was observed with a tiny bruise on his ear and this immediately prompted a full examination by a paediatrician - as it should have. Yet here several visits to A&E and no further investigation.