Fogo de chao woodlands tx

Professional eSports in a Bar

2011.06.09 03:29 o_Oskar Professional eSports in a Bar

----- *"For fans, watching in bars fulfills their desire to share the love of a game that many watched at home alone before. Fans organize so-called Barcraft events, taking over pubs and bistros from Honolulu to Florida and switching big-screen TV sets to Internet broadcasts of professional game matches happening often thousands of miles away."* - [The Wall Street Journal](http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424053111904070604576516462736084234.html) ----
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2017.03.19 01:34 Texas4E Austin, without the toxicity

The Austin subreddit that isn't toxic.
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2023.05.29 17:08 AnythingAlfred613 Spotted at one of the local kids’ stores in my town

Spotted at one of the local kids’ stores in my town
I think the bubble blowers are new. Haven’t seen them before.
submitted by AnythingAlfred613 to bluey [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 17:03 Dry-Pen831 After I have tried Ventura on my GTX 1060 now I decided to try marvericks on my arrandale, and it stuck like this:

After I have tried Ventura on my GTX 1060 now I decided to try marvericks on my arrandale, and it stuck like this:
Is there any fixes or am I done? I'm using chameleon as bootloader*
submitted by Dry-Pen831 to hackintosh [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 16:50 Panasit My Students Tried to Eat My Liver

I taught at a strict vocational college that forced students to wear uniforms and bow to elders. As someone who let students call him by his first name and played Valo with them, I was not surprised when my boss called me into his office. I was ready to defend myself, but I was hit with: “Are you aware that your students are descendants of a cannibal?”
Truthfully? Sort of. I knew that in 1600, colonists invaded the island and enslaved the natives. A pirate named Sur-Linyao slaughtered the colonists and became the island’s folk hero.
Murals and statues of Sur-Linyao were all over the island. His signature look was his very long tongue sticking out of his mouth. The symbol on his pirate flag was a six-dot triangle. Technically, Sur-Linyao didn't eat ALL of the colonists, just one organ. First, he tied each colonist to a tree. Sur-Linyao then cut out each man’s liver and ate it raw with chili paste while staring into the person’s eyes. Sur-Linyao then threw that bleeding and squirming colonist into a dirty shallow pond, where Komodo dragons, attracted to the blood, devoured the victim alive.
The school rector handed me a photograph. It showed a male Westerner smiling while kicking a statue of Sur-Linyao while two women cheered him on. The three in the photo were humanitarian workers. Traces of candle wax at the base of Sur-Linyao’s statue showed that the islanders worshipped the liver-eating pirate, and for some reason, the workers felt they needed to do something about that. The three thought that their 6 months long relationship-building with natives on the island earned them enough goodwill for them to get away with that kind of stunt. Just a few hours after the photo was taken, the hacked body parts of all three were found scattered all over the beach. Their livers were missing.
The rector then stared right at me, preparing me for his next sentence. “Before you think that I’m a racist who is prejudging the modern-day natives as liver-eating savages based on what their ancestors did hundreds of years ago, you should know that the killings happened in 2017. To put things in perspective, the Nintendo Switch was already out.”
The rector then revealed that he called me into his office to ask me about an incident a day before.
There was a report that a White man with a goatee whistled at a native girl inside a convenience store on the south side of the island. He asked if that was me.
I was shocked. That was the reason he called me in here? I told him no. Apparently, there were only about 30 Caucasians on this island of 20,000 people, and only a few had a goatee. The rector then told me that a cop and the girl’s father and an older brother went to my dorm to look for me but I wasn’t there.
After seeing the look of horror on my face, wondering what would have happened if I was at the dorm, the rector told me not to panic and that he will talk to the cop and the girl’s family on my behalf. The rector ended our meeting with, “Just be careful AJ. We are the minority here. I hope to god you know what that means.”
For the past few classes, I started letting my students analyze Western media and culture. Thanks to globalization, these island kids watched and played the same media content as others their age around the world: Stranger Things, MCU, Fortnite, etc. As their teacher, I was often asked to comment on controversial topics like: “AJ, what do you think about a Neo-Nazi being punched before he does anything?” “AJ, what do you think about Black Lives Matter?” “AJ, what do you think about Go Woke Go Broke?” “AJ, what do you think about Don’t-Say-Gay-Bill?”
My answer was always to not ask me what I think, but for them to gather information from various sources and come to their own conclusion. Since more than ⅔ of the class were teenage males, their views were… not very much aligned with mine. But even though I disagreed with them, I felt like we had a healthy discussion.
I then noticed a student, Stephanie, seemed very unhappy as she shoved her notebook into her bag at the end of class. “You know I used to love your class. But I think these past few classes were shits.”
I was confused. Stephanie was one of my best students. She always sat in front and answered all questions correctly last semester. I asked her right away what was wrong.
“Is it going to kill you to just outright say that racism is wrong, misogyny is wrong, homophobia is wrong, and Naziism is wrong? Why does it have to always have to be a healthy debate?” I was shocked by her response. I told her that I don’t think a teacher should just outright tell students what to think, especially when it comes to social issues.
I mean, of course, I think racism, misogyny, Naziism, and homophobia are wrong. But I guess I would feel like I was brainwashing the students if I just tell them: this is what you must believe.
Stephanie scoffed. “Well, now Benny and his gang think that you approved of their homophobia and misogyny. You didn’t want to correct them not because you are this free-thinker, but in reality you just want them to think that you are a “too cool to care” edge lord just like them, right? Do you think the disenfranchised people enjoy watching others debate whether or not they should have the right to exist and feel safe? How would you feel if one day the island natives have a healthy debate about whether you should live or die?” Stephanie then stormed out.
Needless to say, I was not in a good mood that evening. I took it out on the students playing survivors while I was playing as a killer on Dead by Daylight. After getting slaughtered the students were not happy. “AJ, why were you tunneling me?”
A student named Benny asked after I sacrificed him within fifteen minutes. I thought that was rich coming from Benny, who, as a killer, only played Leatherface and Facecamp-ed all his victims the entire match. My response was snarky. “Benny, why don’t you try hiding like the other survivors instead of running around the map like a decapitated chicken?” The other students laughed. Benny didn’t respond right away, which made me feel kind of bad. Benny eventually responded after about two minutes. “I can’t wait to eat your liver, AJ.” My heart dropped to the floor. Did Benny just threaten me? I was waiting for the other students to call him out on that comment, but they were silent. After about thirty seconds, Benny continued, “I bet your liver tastes delicious, AJ. I bet it is so sweet and juicy I won’t even need a chili sauce.” The day after, I tried to spin that whole experience as a teachable moment. I decided the next class lecture was going to be about influential people and why people are so divided over them.
I listed some controversial ‘a hero to some, a villain to others’ figures for them.
Che Guevara Napoleon Edward Snowden
Hoping to have some more healthy debates. But the students do not have strong enough opinions about the figures that were so distant in relevance to them.
So, I did something that was probably the biggest mistake of my life. I asked them about the island's liver-eating hero, Sur-Linyao. Benny said that there’s nothing controversial about Sur-Linyao unless some douchebag wants to sympathize with the genocidal colonists he slaughtered.
I reminded Benny that if someone were to hear his comments in the previous class, they could accuse him of sympathizing with sexist racist homophobic Nazis too. Like an arrogant idiot, instead of leaving it at that, I decided it was healthy to hit them with some truth about Sur-Linyao.
Sur-Linyao was a horrifying villain to the islanders before the colonists arrived. He was a pirate after all. Sur-Linyao would regularly pillage several villages on the island, killing several innocent people in the process. Seeing the six-dots triangle jolly-roger from the distance must have been a nightmare for the islanders at the time.
And Sur-Linyao didn’t kill the colonists out of the goodness of his heart. There were pieces of evidence that showed Sur-Linyao worked with the colonists for years, and in the end, betrayed the colonists just because he wanted to rob them. Benny shook his head. He told me that several people in this class were direct descendants of Sur-Linyao, including him. I chuckled, thinking that he just WISHED he was a descendant of Sur-Linyao. But Benny said he could prove it.
More than half of the male students in the class stood up. They slightly tilted their head down but their eyes kept on looking forward, staring at me. Suddenly, their tongue started to slither out of their mouth. The tongues were too long, longer than a foot, but it was not the length that unsettled me, but the way it wiggled out of each of their mouth as if they were separate creatures. I was horrified looking at the dozen students standing in front of me, staring at me with their long tongues dangling out.
Benny then said, “Do you know what the six-dots triangle means, AJ? It means that the man seeing it was about to lose his liver.” I always parked my car a bit further away from the school because I didn’t want to fight with other faculty members over the parking space underneath the building. Besides, I didn’t mind walking a bit since there was a nice view of the ocean. As I was getting out of the car, I saw that someone painted the six-dots triangle on an abandoned water tank in the middle of the field. It was new, I didn’t see it the day before. And I was more than certain it was meant for me to see. No one parked where I parked and the surrounding area was abandoned.
I went and told the school administrator about this. They said that the six-dot triangle symbol was a symbol of Sur-Linyao who has pictures all over the island, including that symbol on his forehead.
It was not an intimidation symbol like a swastika and that I should relax.
Frustrated, I went back to my dorm. The view from my balcony was almost great, but there was a weird Ferris wheel-like structure blocking part of it. I didn’t even know what the circular structure was, but there seemed to be a bunch of neon light bulbs attached to it. I hoped it never got turned on or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep.
As I went into my closet, I found a T-shirt that was not mine. On it was a phrase, ‘I’m the Other White Meat’ on it. Why was this in my closet? Did the dry cleaner mix in someone else’s clothes with mine? Who would dry clean a T-shirt? I realized then that my room may have been broken into.
I was nervous and scared out of my mind. Am I being targeted or am I just overreacting? Is the entire island gaslighting me, or was it just Benny and his friends? Heck, it could have been Stephanie doing this, trying to teach me a lesson.
I opened Discord to see if some of my students want to play some games, but none of them were online, at least not in the group chat I set up. Some of them changed their profile picture to a six-dot triangle, including Benny.
That evening, I went to a gas station to fill up my car. As I was just about finished, I saw a truck coming down a steep hill, heading straight into the station. It was an old truck, but an intimidatingly large one, and loud. Then, I saw the six-dot triangle symbol painted on the side of the truck.
Logically, I shouldn’t have panicked. The symbol was a symbol of the island’s folk hero and the gas station is brightly lit and full of people. But out of nowhere, this feeling of dread overwhelmed me. The hair on my arm just rose straight up. I felt chills as if something was telling me to get out of the gas station now. I trusted my instinct and quickly started my bike and bolted out of there.
The next day, I walked past a hallway where a colleague named Beth was putting up a poster made by her students. The poster was showcasing English words that came from French. For some reason, there were also photos of faculty members floating alongside words like “Garage”, “à la carte”, and “Cache”.
I stopped in my track when I saw my photo with the word, ‘Foie Gras’ underneath it.
That word and my picture seemed so out of place being in its own little corner on the poster. I almost had a panic attack right there. Another threat? Are you kidding me? I thought. Beth asked me what was wrong. I decided to tell her.
That evening, I went to have dinner with Beth and her husband Jan on the beach. Just three White expats talking. I told them about what I had been experiencing in the past few days. The three dotted symbols painted where I parked, the comment from the student made on the game chat, the mysterious T-shirt, the racial profiling, all of it. “You are being very racist,” Beth said right at the very second I had just realized that I never really liked her.
She continued, “Don’t you get it, AJ? The students are threatening to eat your liver because they know you are a racist white man who thinks they were going to eat your liver. Kids will always try to exploit what they think the adults are afraid of. It’s your fault for showing them your cards.
Have you ever been outside of the States before? Do you not know how to be a minority? You came to an island paradise with so much special privilege but you suddenly have a male Karen racist nervous breakdown moment because you think that your teenage students are going to eat your liver? Quite frankly, I am very disappointed in you."
Her husband Jan tried to save the mood of the dinner. “So AJ, what are your plans for when the island shut off the power on July 7th?”
For one day every year, the island shut off all electricity for maintenance. Nothing electronic will work on that day, most importantly the ATM and the Internet. People, even the island natives, would go to the mainland for one day. There’s a problem with that idea. The ferry itself takes 3 hours to reach the mainland. And, with so many people thinking of doing the same thing, the line at the dock will be extremely long, both to the mainland in the morning, and back from the mainland in the evening.
For the last two years, I rode out the annual power outage by just chillaxing on the island. But this year, a Facebook post by Benny made me reconsider.
“I just want to say, my favorite teacher is AJ. He surely delivered. And soon I will de-liver him.”
Jan said that he and Beth will drive their speedboat to the mainland, which is 5 times faster than the ferry. They are also taking the rector with them. Judging from the way Beth glared at me, I don’t think she will say yes if I asked her if I could come too.
On the day of the power outage, I waited almost five hours in line to get my car onto the ferry. The ticket machine no longer works so everything was written on a notecard with pen and paper, which I found amusing. When the ticket man came to my car. He said to me that I have to wait for the next one. I looked at the ferry and it was not even half full. I asked him why and he pretended to suddenly not understand English.
I looked in my rearview mirror and then saw it, the truck with the six-dot triangle painted on its side only three cars behind me. How did it get there? I didn’t see it behind me before. I realized then that the truck wanted to get on the next ferry with me. I told the ticket holder that I will leave my car there and I will get on the leaving ferry with just me. Before he could say anything, I quickly maneuvered out of the line and parked in front of a cafe. The ticket boy said I couldn’t park there. I asked him if he owned the cafe, then quickly ran and jumped onto the suddenly departing Ferry.
After riding the ferry many times, I figured out that the top deck gave me the least motion sickness. I climbed up there and found a surprising person. Stephanie. She smiled at me, which made me so glad. I didn’t think what I did was something so bad that she would be holding a long grudge anyway. We made small talk, I asked her about what she was planning on doing for the day, etc. After a bit, I couldn’t help myself and showed her Benny’s Facebook post. I always thought she didn’t like Benny. I told her I was disappointed in him and was so shocked that he would threaten me like that.
I looked up at Stephanie and was shocked to see her eyes bulged out and her foot-long tongue dangling from her mouth. “Just like Voltaire, I may disagree with what Benny says, but I will defend to the death his right to say it." I was so scared, I backed away automatically. But, the teacher in me still corrected her and said that Voltaire didn’t say that. She laughed, “Good. Voltaire was a smart person. Only an idiot would say something like that.”
I moved down to the lowest level where the cars and the smoking passengers were. I tried not to fall asleep as I could feel the eyes of the other passengers staring at me.
The sound of people barfing almost made me want to barf myself. I went and sat on the edge of the front of the ferry. The wind blowing into my face did calm me a little. I was scared and frustrated. I wondered if I should just never go back to the island after reaching the mainland.
After looking at my watch and realizing that it had been three hours, I looked out the window and saw what made my soul leave my body. We were heading to the island? I didn’t even realize we had turned around.
I asked the ferry driver what was going on. He said there was a storm coming and he has to head back. Besides, it was already close to 5 PM, and the power should be coming back on soon.
I was extremely angry that I was about to be back on the island. Stephanie was nowhere to be found on the ferry also. Since I was farsighted, I could see the tires of my car were slashed.
There were also a couple of men standing there doing nothing, blocking my path toward my car. There was no longer any doubt in my mind that the natives were planning to do something to me. I was targeted and was about to be beaten or killed for whatever reason.
I surprised them all by jumping from the ferry before it was properly docked and sprinting in the opposite direction of where my car was. I climbed up the steep hills next to the road leading to the dock and disappeared into the woods The light was not coming back on and it was getting dark.
I was shaking in fear but I had to calm myself so I could think of the next move with a clear head. I wondered if Beth and Jan came back from the mainland yet. I could ask them to use their boat or at least hide me, and if they say no, at this point, I was at a level of desperation where I was willing to just cause chaos until they let me. On my way to their house, I had to pass my dorm. I considered going to gather some of my things until I saw something moving in the dark.
I almost peed my pants from fright when I saw a floating pair of eyeballs approaching my dorm. Despite everything else being in complete darkness, the eyes of a person and his dangling red tongue were glowing in the dark. I had never seen anything like this. Several more pairs of eyeballs and long red tongues emerged from the dark woods.
I couldn’t tell if the floating eyeballs and tongue belonged to Benny or any of my students, but they were right outside my dorm. As my eyes started to get used to the darkness and started to see shapes, I could see that they were each holding a machete. I quietly made my way to Beth and Jan’s house. When I got to their boathouse, there were flies everywhere. I tried to brush them away, but I could feel the thickness of the swarm. I felt like I was touching a bunch of floating chunks of meat.
I saw their boat at the dock. So did they come back? But why wouldn’t they turn on their boat’s light? I finally decided to use my phone flashlight to help me search for the boat key inside the boat house. I didn’t use my phone earlier because I was trying to conserve battery and also I didn’t want to draw attention to where I was. As soon as I shined the phone’s flashlight inside the boathouse, I was shocked to find the hacked-up heads of Beth, Jan, and the school’s rector covered in flies. Suddenly, I heard a wood creaking sound coming from outside. I quickly grabbed the boat key and jumped into the couple’s speed boat.
I hurriedly start the boat and just drove off, not caring about anything else. I used my phone’s compass to find the direction towards the mainland and I just kept going.
Suddenly, lights came back on the island. It shined brightly behind me as a nuclear bomb had just been detonated. I couldn’t help but look back, and then I saw it: a giant face formed by the neon lights, making the entire island look like it had a demonic face. The circular Ferris-wheel-like structure that was outside my dorm’s balcony was part of one of the giant face’s eyes.
I told myself to just ignore it and kept on driving. It was their world and they didn’t want me in it. I could do nothing but kept on going into the darkness.
submitted by Panasit to nosleep [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 16:48 Oddlydehydratedgurb How many birds are named after your state?

How many birds are named after your state? submitted by Oddlydehydratedgurb to MapPorn [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 16:29 MajorModernRedditor 1948 Identity War - My Headcanon Part 3 - 2016 to 2020

1948 Identity War - My Headcanon Part 3 - 2016 to 2020 submitted by MajorModernRedditor to thecampaigntrail [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 16:19 ProfessionalCrow4816 Insult my garbage, horrible, not good 2028 prediction.

Insult my garbage, horrible, not good 2028 prediction. submitted by ProfessionalCrow4816 to YAPms [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 13:39 Johnny_Boy398 Africa Rework: The Leopard of the Congo Mobutu Sese Seko

Africa Rework: The Leopard of the Congo Mobutu Sese Seko
(This is part of an ongoing series, links to which will be posted in the comments below)
The Nationalists of the “Mouvement Authenticité de la Révolution” (MAR)
Who is Mobutu Sese Seko? Just another warlord who got a lucky break? A champion of the nation willing to do what is necessary for unity and freedom? A traitor to the people who was happy to crack congolese heads until his pay got cut? A revolutionary Father-Marshal or a reactionary kleptocrat? No one can say for sure, but when the Congo war begins in 1966 it will become clear what he wishes himself to be: the great liberator, unifyer, and undisputed master of the great Congo nation. And with Japanese help he may just pull it off. But no man is born great, and even the Fuhrer does not rule alone. So let us discover how Mobutu came to be, and what his victory will mean for the Congo and Africa at large.
For the Japanese, who will become his greatest supporters and headaches, he is the African Oda Nobunaga: a martial and cruel man whose vision for unity and glory far outweighs whatever sins he may have committed. Always one for the cameras and adept at winning over an audience, Mobutu will successfully win over the Japanese public by playing the role of the justly tyrannical “Great Man”, even while he personally prefers western delicacies.
Joseph-Désiré Mobutu lived an unremarkable life before being thrust into greatness. He was only 16 when the Congo was violently transferred from Belgian to German hands, and like many rebellious students he joined in the 1949 protests against the construction of the Congo dam, stowing away from boarding school to do so. In the aftermath of the MNC repression Mobutu was assigned to the still technically Belgian controlled Force Publique as punishment. Unlike many of his fellows however Mobutu immediately took to military life, embracing the strength, discipline and martial values it provided. In part because of this he served without noticeable disobedience, and was even bribed to be an informant on clandestine communist cells within the force, ratting out a few of his “comrades”. From the point of view of the Belgians he was a model soldier. But this was an act: in truth Mobutu never ceased holding resentment for his arrogant Belgian commanders or the priests who had “educated” him. Behind their back he was a contributor to the native underground press, writing under assumed names and attacking the Belgian presence. It came as quite a shock then when in 1955, as his mandated time in the force was drawing to a close, Mobutu did not accept demobilization quietly but instead went into revolt. It is still a matter of debate about what pushed him into this. He claims that this had been the plan all along, while cynics say the impending annexation of the belgian Congo by Zentralafrika forced him into it. Some think that his double life was about to be exposed, while the more conspiratorial leftists say that he never went into rebellion at all, and that his “revolt” was ordered by the Belgians as a way to counter the APL insurgency. But whatever the case it was here that the public figure was born.
After killing several belgian officers and stealing as many weapons and valuables as they could Mobutu and his co-conspirators quickly fled east. This was not entirely unusual: the sudden annexation of the colony led to many sporadic demonstrations and revolts. But it immediately became clear that Mobutu had larger ambitions than these local disturbances. His strategy at this time was one of survival: he would only accept those who could move fast and hit hard, with his armed band always staying on the move as they fled to the east. But unlike other petty warlords he understood the importance of a political and social message for his long term survival, as well as local alliances. For this he essentially copied the platform of the now underground MNC while adhering to none of its tenants in reality: he would tell the people whatever they wanted to hear so long as it got him what he wanted. More practically he made tight alliances with local eastern notables as well as Tutsi refugees which had fled reprisals to the east. In this he was successful, forging for himself a loose alliance in the north east which permitted him to slip the noose where so many others were eventually caught.
One of his most important lieutenants in these early days was Victor Nendaka Bika, his de facto “foreign minister” and torturer who would make initial contact with those Mobutu saw the need to coerce or charm. Unlike many warlords Mobutu never gave into the temptation to rule by fear alone, instead seeking to co-opt useful men into his own organization. But he was just as happy to let loose his jackal to show the consequences of disloyalty.
These early years from 1956-1962 were defined at first by mere survival: banditry, illegal trade and bribery were the only ways to stay alive. But slowly, with plenty of self promotion to help it, Mobutu’s reputation as a survivor and a winner grew locally, and then regionally. As the remnants of failed rebels and warlords drifted into his growing camp Mobutu was able to step beyond being a bandit king and into becoming a local powerbroker. He had already made himself the allied protector of the Tutsi refugees, and soon after the APL’s protracted people's war in the north began he sought to become the patron of his own native Ngbandi people as well. Where he had the most power in the eastern fringes the pan-Africanist APL held the north, with the Ngbandi in the middle still “up for grabs” between the APL, Mobutu and the German administration. It is here that he first developed his own separate political platform: unwilling or unable to come to an agreement with either of the other two factions Mobutu began developing his own ideology of an “authentic” congolese nationalism which was opposed to both pan-african and communist radicalism, “self defeating” regionalism and demanded the full liberation of the congo from european imperialism. But most importantly to those who heard his call was for unity under Mobutu: if the African people remained divided and timid they would be slaves forever, and only a great leader like Mobutu could bring them true liberty. As one may expect, this call for subordination won him very few new friends.
The see-saw of influence in the Congo north and east is set to be radically upended in 1962, as kommissar Krogmann finally thinks he has enough stability in the west to launch a pacification campaign. In this he will be superficially successful: all anti-German factions will be forced to retreat and large swaths of land will be returned to German control. But it will not accomplish its primary objective of capturing and killing the leadership: Mobutu will once again avoid the hangman and will return when the Zentralafrika army goes marching south to the SAW. And when he does it will be with a new purpose. Much of his army was scattered or deserted by the German offensive, with many of the local allies he thought were in his hands all but begging to come to terms with the Germans after he was forced out. He had survived yes, but only by the skin of his teeth: this time he would do things differently. Taking lessons from the APL he will return in 1964 as a popular revolutionary rather than as a mere warlord with a printing press. Though still not fully developed it is here that “Joseph-Désiré” would become “Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu wa za Banga” or “The all-powerful warrior who, because of his endurance and inflexible will to win, goes from conquest to conquest, leaving fire in his wake”. A new ideology of “Authentic” nationalism came with this new name, seeking to truly win over the hearts of the people as well as the loyalty of their leaders. It was a threat and a promise, as he would go about tearing down symbols of westernism in his wake and giving personal “gifts” to people or organizations which he wished to win over. He also sought to portray himself as an avenging angel, throwing “bad actors” such as denounced priests and hated collaborators against the wall.
This new ideology, disseminated through the “Manifesto of Goma” is long in emotion and short in concrete policy. As such it was quickly denounced by the intellectuals of the Pan-Africanists and Liberals as not a “real” ideology and merely a cheap populism. But it is taken deadly seriously by the newly declared Mouvement Authenticité de la Révolution: for its supporters it promises a true rebirth of the congolese people from within rather than without. The Congo would be purged of malignant western influence by remaking the congolese individual in body, mind and spirit. This was the way to true freedom and dignity, far more than mere “material conditions” or to ape their constitutions.
With his newfound identity and strategy Mobutu will of course be a prime target for Huttig’s retribution, but as is always the case too few men and not enough supplies will stop Huttig from ever putting him down for good. Plus Mobutu had found a new friend: the Japanese. In the immediate aftermath of Huttig’s takeover the Japanese will support the APL, but will quickly grow disenchanted: the naked radicalism and distrustful nature of the APL will lead to the Japanese looking for a more reliable partner, and Mobutu will aggressively angle to become just that. After having been rejected by the Americans in favor of the MNC Mobutu is the only big game left in the Congo for Japan to back, and was always a master at co-option and personal magnetism. He will charm the Japanese mission to sing his praises in Tokyo, even if there is little they can do for him at the moment. This will change when Huttig dies: taking a gamble Mobutu will strike at Stanleyville, successfully forcing the retreating garrison to leave behind most of their weapons and capturing an airport through which he will finally have solid connections with the outside world. The bad blood between him and the MNC and APL will mean that there is no choice but to fight it out as the Congo war begins in 1966, this time with Japan backing him to the hilt.
Mobutu now seeks to become a legend. Already having gained a personal mythos after having been declared dead by the Germans several times, his wartime strategy will be to force the mass mobilization of the population. Under his personal name and with the backing of Japan he will force every man who comes under his control into his army, seeking to form a tidal wave of men which will overwhelm his enemies and make up for his lack of supply. If an enemy cannot be rooted out with simple force of numbers, it will be the job of his all Ngbandi “Leopard Division” or even better of Japanese “volunteers” to root them out. The success of this strategy is heavily dependent on momentum, and will rely on Japanese backing to arm itself. But if it is successful Zentralafrika will be no more, and neither will the Congo: The Republic of Zaire will rise as the newest power in Africa under the leadership of the nation's great guide: Mobutu Sese Seko. After a partial demobilization and a reconfirming of his alliance with “internal allies” such as the Tutsi under François Rukeba and the Bakongo under Holden Roberto he will initiate a grand campaign of national revolution and self aggrandizement: Zairianization.
Asian inspired architecture of the newly built Presidential Palace. Among those celebrating the creation of Zaire will be the Japanese. All sides have poured a great deal of resources into the conflict, and the victory of Mobutu will doubtless be a strategic boon for Japanese influence on the continent. Mobutu for his part recognizes the usefulness of his new “friends”, but neither side is blinded by the propaganda: the dangers and opportunities of Nationalism are all too familiar.
As mentioned in my previous post there are several common issues which any native unifyer must account for. The first among these is The Looming Famine: in the aftermath of years of war and mismanagement the supply of food to urban areas is critically unstable. And it is in this issue that the weaknesses of Mobutu’s regime will first be seen. Mobutu’s agricultural reform centers mostly on seizing land owned by the whites and his political enemies, and then redistributing it to himself, his political allies, and occasionally to the people. As everything with the Zairean revolution the purpose is twofold: to meet the needs of the people and to entrench Mobutu's personal political power. But often the second goal far outstrips the first: many of the people who gain this land do not know how to use the land productively, or if they do, are more interested in producing cash crops than they are in food staples. This is certainly the case for the massive amounts of land brought under Mobutu’s personal ownership, which will most often continue to grow the same way as the colonial plantations they were before. This reckless reorganization and focus on exports ensure that hunger will be an early and acute crisis for Zaire. The issue will be solved slowly, as roads are repaired and the rhythm of agricultural life is no longer disrupted by war, but the people need food now and more than anything else it is cassava and rice which the people demand from their leaders.
It is by meeting this need that Japanese influence first becomes a powerful thing. Though motivated in part by genuine charity from well off Asians, the provision of food and aid is also cynically used by the Japanese state to buy the support of the people and the local power brokers away from Mobutu, and towards themselves. This aid, plus the government's own subsidies of food imports, plus the natural healing from war, will lead to the crisis fading away but leaving all sides on notice that the future of Zaire is still being made, and that the Japanese are a major player in it.
The Mutilated Independence: The inability of Mobutu to take Leopoldville during the independence war is a blow to Mobutu’s prestige, not to mention Zaire as a whole. However he is pragmatic enough and has enough friends in Japan to hash out a deal with Nigeria and Gabon: the loss of the major port will not strangle Congolese exports or imports, only make them more expensive. But for both political and economic reasons the retaking of Leopoldville and the Kabinda port remain absolutely vital to the continued reign of Mobutu. To this end Mobutu’s solution to retaking Leopoldville is direct conquest, not because he can think of no other option but because it will give him the greatest personal prestige as a great conqueror. As such along with his policy of “Zairianization” and economic consolidation he will also invest a great deal into the army.
This army will see its strength tested as Mobutu tries to expand his influence beyond the Zaireian borders. Gabon may be protected by America, but unleashing blitz style attacks on Angola and Rwanda is fair game. In Angola he will seek to set up Holden Roberto as a fellow autocratic “Authenticité” leader by supporting his meager army against the warring angolan factions in an attempted knockout blow. In Rwanda he will need to be somewhat more cautious (unless something very bad happens) but ultimately seeks to return Kigeli V to the throne on the backs of his long time exile allies. In this way he will both expand his influence as well as surround Leopoldville with friendly regimes. When the oil crisis hits Mobutu will leap at the opportunity to crush the Germans by launching an all out assault on “Festung Leopoldville”, and if successful will greatly increase his prestige, as well as rehabilitate his image in the eyes of other revolutionary leaders as a “true revolutionary”. If he fails in these wars however he will decline, and need to lean ever more heavily on Japan to prop himself up. This is somewhat awkward for Japan itself: having previously backed leftist movements as their best options they must now choose between their old allies and the new anti-leftist gambles taken by Mobutu. But despite the heartburn Zaire is simply too valuable in the african chaos for Japan to not continue supporting it, and so the rising sun shall backstab their allies in the name of pragmatism to the benefit of Mobutu. And besides, these new factions typically promess a better deal than the socialists did.
Mobutu walks a fine line in African politics: though he has denounced the APL’s brand of pan-africanism he also wishes to be seen as a great revolutionary. Surrounded as he is by pan-african or otherwise revolutionary movements it is only good sense to say you are one of them. And to many Mobutu is just that: a liberating revolutionary who both freed and united great swaths of africa from pernicious white influence. But for the wider Marxist inspired world of African liberation his clear anti-communist is difficult to accept, no matter how well he speaks the language of pan-african pride.
Lingering Regionalism: In this question Mobutu is the most radical, and his policy is what you may know him for OTL. While all revolutionaries desire to establish a united identity, and some of them will do so by autocratic centralization, Mobutu makes the establishment of a “true” Zaireian nation a core part of his rule. As established in the Manifesto of Goma Mobutu promesses a national revolution in which regionalism will be swept away by a new, authentic program of nation building which will decolonize the Congolese mind as well as their hands. In practical terms this means the creation of a totalitarian state which will regulate and make “african” all aspects of life. Western influence will be attacked via the banning of christian names and nationalizing catholic church property. A citizen dress code will be implemented as well as a “traditional” family code which will favor male-dominated polygamy and property laws. Though his own praetorian guard of the leopard division is tribally biased the army as a whole will have a new organization forbidding any unit to be more than 20% uniform in tribal origin. This campaign is carried out with special zeal against the influence of Catholicism. Seeing it as both a challenge to his own power and as a malignant foreign influence Mobutu will make a great show of putting priests on trial and instructing his followers to declare that Mubutu is like Jesus and the MAR like the church. Schools, previously run almost exclusively by religious organizations, will be nationalized and their curriculum no longer permitted to teach Christianity but instead to teach “Mobutuism”. Though he will not have the strength needed to wipe out the church entirely during the 60s or early 70s Mobutu will be able to effectively cow this institution and dare any priest to say “sacrilege”.
This campaign will provide a degree of unity, pride and self confidence to the shattered nation beyond what any other program could do, but it is all provided through the image of Mobutu as the great sun king of the new nation. Mobutu will seek to become the center of a pseudo-religious cult of personality with mass public celebrations of his figure following him wherever he goes and an entourage singing songs in his praise.
A consequence of the personalism in this campaign is than any embarrassing failures will not only reflect poorly on the nation but on Mobutu himself. As such he will often get worked up by seemingly trivial matters: if the football team should be lucky enough to participate in the world cup they will do so under the threat that if they do not perform well enough it will see retribution on them at home.
But as part of building this cult he must never let any other person, even his own children, get a moment in the spotlight. Below him is transient chaos, while above him is none: he alone is the rock on which Zaire can be built. This policy is most clearly seen in his handling of the Warlord Plague. Here Mobutu has a two sided policy: All those military figures which he believes could pose a threat to his rule will at first be executed publicly and brutally. In the opening months of his reign he will institute a mini reign of terror to make an example of many warlords and political enemies. However, once the example has been made he will move on to a policy of co-opting these same men. Often through direct bribery, or through positions of prestige and other perks, local strongmen who will accept his rule are brought into the state machine by promising the opportunity to profit in exchange for loyalty. This opportunity is often revoked without notice or reason and personal rivalry at the top is encouraged: in this way no other individual is able to form a stable powerbase. But at the same time individuals previously kicked out of power may be rehabilitated just as quickly, rising once again to wealth and prestige on the auspices of Mobutu’s favor. In this way no elite is a permanent outsider, and the best move for many will seem to be “wait and see”. This of course makes the internal administration of the nation hell, but it does keep Mobutu in undisputed power without even the glimmer of a rival.
This policy of personal co-option extends even to The Belgian Question. The Europeans remaining property will be nationalized and they will be deported, but it will not come with the punitive brutality of the pan-africanists. Mobutu has no love for the Belgians, and will not tolerate their continued dominance, but he also has no special hatred for them, seeing them mostly as political liabilities and rivals rather than ideology defining enemies: that distinction goes to the Germans. But after this show of nationalistic force the door will be left open to their return: many of the nationalized properties are redistributed to those without the knowledge, skill or desire to maintain their productivity. As such when those same Europeans are offered the chance to buy back their property or even return to the Congo Mobutu will not get in their way: so long as they avoid getting lynched along the way by Mobutu’s notoriously brutal and poorly disciplined soldiers he will let them have their piece too so long as they accept that it is by his grace alone that they keep it.
Part of this leniency is out of a calculated mercy to Europeans: Mobutu is smart enough to know that making himself solely reliant on Japan is a poor strategy, and will seek to make connections with America, Italy and Brazil. Having mercy on the Belgians and keeping the door open to cooperation with the Euros is an easy way to mollify western opinion and thus maintain his own independence on the world stage. Of course even this policy has limits: Germany and those under her will see the door slammed shut.
Which brings us neatly into the great struggle which defines the early Mobutu regime: addressing the Economic Devastation. In keeping with his Authenticité program Mobutu wishes to nationalize all previously foreign owned industry, which is the vast majority of all industry, under the one-party state. These national corporations, modeled off of the Japanese Zaibatsu and Italian corporatism, will be either controlled directly by Mobutu, by his close political allies, or (to his own displeasure) by East Asians, most often the Japanese. Mobutu’s Japanese backers are willing to prop up his regime, to allow whatever social and political organization he wishes, but they have come to the Congo for a reason. That reason is money and resources, and with Authenticité pushing for the cartelization of all money in the Congo the Japanese demand to be let in. Mobutu cannot simply dismiss them: it is Japanese credit and weapons which ensure he stays secure and on top. But he is also unwilling to simply roll over for them: he is a nationalist and a deeply ambitious man, and will not be satisfied with anything less than personal ownership of the Zaire economy. As such the 60s and early 70s will be a contest between true Mobutu loyalists and pro-Japanese opportunists for who will gain a majority share of the new nation's economic resources. Japan offers cash, guns, food, technical advisors and diplomatic support (all of which Zaire really needs) in return for shares in the national corporations and local extractions. They will also play dirty by employing bribes, intimidation tactics, organized crime and even clandestine support of anti-mobutu civil resistance to put pressure on the regime to open up more space for the Japanese. To counter this Mobutu has all the tools of the state at his disposal, as well as the mobilization of his own hard core group of supporters for intimidation or political pressure on local leaders.
“Kazi ndjo baba, ndjo mama” (work, it is my father, it is my mother), is a common phrase in Katanga which alludes to the paternalist role played by large companies such as the Union Minière, which would provide housing, education, and sometimes even wives to their workers in exchange for productive loyalty. Even after the full German takeover “company work” maintained a facade of this relationship. Japan is well positioned to take up the old Union Minière paternalism tactics, offering workers higher and more regular pay than what native organizations sometimes can, while also reinforcing a culture of dependency which Mobutu is trying to break (or bend to his own ends).
It is this contest for the hard cash and rare metals provided by the Congo which will determine the final form the Authenticité regime takes. If Mobutu is victorious and secures the lion's share of the economy for himself and a large enough share for his allies the Zairean Revolution will be complete with major bonuses to stability and political power, and even more importantly to Mobutu’s personal fortune. Though never giving public access to his personal books Mobutu will be plausibly rumored to be worth billions, with he and his family being some of the foremost african business people in the world and minor celebrities in the co-prosperity sphere. However the economy will suffer greatly from this as all economic efficiency and business skill has been sacrificed in the name of Mobutu’s personal power: though he is the undisputed master of Zaire it will be a deeply dysfunctional country economically, and if commodity prices were to fall he may need to go crawling back to the outside world to bail him out. On the other hand if Japan wins Zaire will become a neo-colonial strip, with its most lucrative industries owned in part or in full by the Japanese and the state unable to do anything about it without critically undermining its own elite support. This will make Mobutu into only a multi-millionaire rather than a billionaire, as well as undermine his public image of all powerful invincibility. With the Japanese ambassador keeping a hawkish eye on him and his party Mobutu will be left to stew in his unhappy lot knowing that if he ceases to play the part assigned to him the Japanese can always find someone else. This will also be the end of the Authentice campaign as even uneducated workers can see that their bread comes not from “Father Marshal” but from their places of work, owned by foreigners once again. But it is arguably better economically, as the extractive industries are at least run competently and its workers will be paid in full and on time more often. In all cases Zaire will be a sphere observer, but in this case it will be a part of the Japanese economic sphere as well. The later 70s and 80s will be difficult times for either end as prices crash and the cumulative effects of bad government and foreign domination come to the fore. But that is a story for another day.
Japan or Mobutu, success or failure, unity or farce, one thing remains constant: the Zairean military officers are the new nobility of the new nation. Corruption is an endemic and potentially crippling issue in Zaire, and this is seen most clearly in the military, where officers will steal wages and army units will act close to bandits in the more remote regions, creating an atmosphere of fear. But the best position is that of an Air Force officer, with prominent families often paying through the nose for their sons to be educated in Japanese military academies to earn their wings.
submitted by Johnny_Boy398 to TNOmod [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 13:30 2019h740 306-232

306-232 submitted by 2019h740 to YAPms [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 12:33 Erwin_Smith483 Multiple Regiment of renown

Multiple Regiment of renown submitted by Erwin_Smith483 to totalwar [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 12:17 joaobita Ajuste Direto: Município de Barcelos paga 10.268,32 € a VIANAFOGO, Lda para “Substituição e reparação de portas corta-fogo

submitted by joaobita to barcelos [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 11:51 phollda Might the contemporary Rwandan government be an example of a competent government?

Last time, we discussed governing competence as the ability of a central government to understand + perform the one job they were created to do.
What might that look like in an existing contemporary example in sub-Saharan Africa? Does any such example even exist given the state of the entire subcontinent?
The contemporary Rwandan government as a competent government
It is very well known the troubles Rwanda had in the 1990s, when all of the sorts of people who now question the competence and mandate of its government stood by and did absolutely nothing as tons and tons of people were hacked to death by their own very neighbors and friends.
What pointers might we have to a Rwandan government competency?
(i) Poverty reduction and economic progress
Tons of people, sub-Saharan Africans included (maybe even especially sub-Saharan Africans of other countries,) love, absolutely love to mock Rwanda.
If a person randomly tried to find a list of sub-Saharan African countries with the best potential for economic growth in the near-term future one might invest in, by any random metric, or collection of metrics, Rwanda is likely to show up somewhere on that list.
The mockers take glances at the country's legible metrics like the GDP/GDP per capita in comparison to other countries in the region and make obscene conclusions. Why does it make sense to compare a country with the tragedy that Rwanda has gone through directly with his neighbors? Why not compare the country to its previous version from say... 20 and 10 years ago? It's in the same way it doesn't make much sense to compare oneself to other people, but to previous versions of oneself.
(ii) Internal and external security
Considering the history of security in the great lakes region in these past decades, Rwanda shouldn't be internally peaceful, or safe from external threats. Nonetheless, judging by the US Security Reports on sub-Saharan African countries, with the most important cities (population and activity) as proxies, (keep in mind that cities in general are very rowdy and chaotic, so that the level of chaos in a country's most bustling big city is a decent proxy [the absolute worst it is] for chaos in the entire country).
Kigali is by far the safest city in all of sub-Saharan Africa. Safer than even Gaborone in very placid Botswana. You may choose to compare both of those cities to Lagos, Nigeria for example, just for good measure.
Some people often question the means by which the peace is being achieved and why. Some other people believe it is a lot more important to keep the peace at any cost, to the benefit of the country's citizens, as long as the means by which they are being kept are long-term sustainable.
(iii) Diplomacy on a chaotic sub-Saharan African subcontinent
How and why is a tiny (landmass), landlocked country at the forefront of war in Mozambique in southern Africa, or Benin Republic in western Africa? Clever use of military diplomacy is what is behind that.
If the Rwandan government is so competent, why aren't they at the level of Singapore yet?
It does take time. And Rwanda right now, isn't a perfectly competent government. They are yet to perform a leader transition for example. Let's remember the last time a sub-Saharan African country got a re-founding leader who laid a decent foundation onto which consequent development would come to happen. Did they become immediately successful, or were the foundations only laid during the leadership of the re-founder?
Why aren't other sub-Saharan African governments attempting to be any 'competent'?
What seems to be the most popular theory of economic development these days are the ideas expressed in the book "Gambling on Development". I have not read the book, but as I gathered from this review and other ones by different people on Amazon and Goodreads, the central point of the book is that development in states only happens when entrenched elites decide to gamble on economic growth.
The theory: the elites who already are at the top of financial and social hierarchy supposedly normally have no need to pursue economic development. Attempting to pursue development is in fact likely to be damaging to their personal interests, since the status quo which keeps them at the top would have to undergo considerable change. Because of that, they usually don't. On the other hand, some elites do decide that pursuing development could put them in even better position: even more wealth, power and influence. Sure, things could go very wrong. But they could also go very very very right. Because of this, they decide to take their chances and 'gamble' on development.
I don't buy this theory. Everyone seems to take it seriously and I'm not sure why.
The first problem I have with its fundamental point is the idea that elites are insecure by default and thence are unlikely to want to gamble on development since that might put their power in danger. That contravenes everything everyone knows about people who have things in abundance and their relationship with it. We do know that genuinely wealthy people do not worry about money, nor do genuinely smart people worry about intelligence. Why then would elites (with abundant power) worry about power?
I don't think they would. Genuine elites feel and know that they are the elites. They aren't in an existential panic about how they might lose their power. Sure they would be careful in managing their power (much like a wealthy person would be careful in managing their wealth), but it is unlikely that they would allow this be a huge bad overpowering fear which dictates what they should or shouldn't do.
So, what might be a better theory for why some elites never do gamble on development, or why the ones who do ever do?
It is all downstream of competence.
First of all, macro-competence(competence at major important things) is a monolith. An individual who is reasonably smart is also going to be reasonably healthy, and be in a reasonable financial position, averaged out over time (if they are poor at a time, it might be that they grew up poor but need some time for their good decisions to compound over a long-enough time to land them in a better position. This doesn't mean that they will ever become wealthy. What it does mean is that they will be in a reasonably decent financial position given where they started from). It's all downstream from their competence: it allows them to make good decisions in all aspects of their personal life.
The same thing is true of people with power (an elite) running a country. It is why countries that are well-run, are well-run on multiple fronts.The ones which are mediocre are mediocre, and the ones which are poorly run, seem to be incapable of getting anything done right.
Because of this, an elite coalition who are incompetent at running a country are likely going to be incompetent at being an elite too (keeping hold to power). Maybe this is what causes them all the nervousness and worry about losing their power if they did attempt to pursue development?
A genuine elite (competent at holding onto power) does as people with power do: whatever the fuck they want.
Why do the elite who do, ever work on development?
The same reason people who work on big, audacious goals ever do. For the same reason Elon Musk took his exit from Paypal and plowed them into an electric car company and a space company.
So the true reason that the elite ever work on long-term development of their country is that: a taste for challenge, self-belief, and pining for self-satisfaction. Sheer... being absolutely the one who knocks.
If the Rwandan government truly is competent, why are some people sceptical of them?
For the same reasons people seem to believe the Gambling on Development theory. Failing to examine the case closely enough on veritable facts, being distracted by poor theories about why things happen/happened, and struggling to develop better theories.
This has multiple downstream effects, including a poor conception of what the future might hold. People who misunderstand the Rwandan government and what it seeks to achieve consequently have only future predictions about it that reconcile with their current understanding of its existence.
If you think it is an autocracy which seeks to maintain an elite which is unwilling to 'gamble on development', or believe it to be no different than other governments running other countries in its environs, you may then predict that the transfer of power, eventually when it does happen, will be to a direct progeny of the current re-founder and leader.
Related:
What is governing competence and why is it only how African countries can develop?
How might one reform a flailing sub-Saharan African country?
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2023.05.29 10:15 InDenialEvie 2023-2024 Governor and House Prediction

2023-2024 Governor and House Prediction
Order
2023 Governor elections
2024 Governor Elections
2024 House Elections
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2023.05.29 10:01 SEZANE404 Vous voulez en savoir plus sur le Flipper Zero ?

L’aventure du Flipper Zero commence durant l’été 2020. Il fait alors l’objet d’un crowdfunding.
Caractéristiques
Arm Cortex-M4 32 bits 64 MHz (puce mobile) Arm Cortex-M0+ 32 MHz (puce réseau) Flash : 1 024 Ko SRAM : 256 Ko Ecran : monochrome LCD 128 x 64 de 1,4 pouce Joystick : 5 boutons avec bouton retour Batterie : rechargeable de 2 000 mAh Fréquences inférieures à 1 GHz : 315 MHz, 433 MHz, 868 MHz et 915 MHz (selon les régions) NFC : 13,56 MHz RFID : 125 kHz Connecteur : 18 GPIO Infrarouge gamme TX/RX : 800-950 nm, puissance TX : 300 mW Support : iButton 1— Wire (compatible Dallas DS1990A/CYFRAL) Port USB : 2.0 type-C
ZDNET
submitted by SEZANE404 to flipper_zero_fr [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 07:37 Son_of_S4m C4C

Farmland: https://temu.com/s/QKUumDeP721kTX
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2023.05.29 07:37 Son_of_S4m C4C

Farmland: https://temu.com/s/QKUumDeP721kTX
submitted by Son_of_S4m to TEMU_Official [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 07:22 Vezo-Nasumo Merch Haul from the last concert for NA side of the tour 😁

Merch Haul from the last concert for NA side of the tour 😁 submitted by Vezo-Nasumo to manwithamission [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:38 Son_of_S4m C4C

Farmland: https://temu.com/s/QKUumDeP721kTX -or Fishland: https://temu.com/s/yALRSa11RGhiF
submitted by Son_of_S4m to temumethods [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:38 Son_of_S4m C4C

Farmland: https://temu.com/s/QKUumDeP721kTX -or Fishland: https://temu.com/s/yALRSa11RGhiF
submitted by Son_of_S4m to temu [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 06:38 Son_of_S4m C4C

Farmland: https://temu.com/s/QKUumDeP721kTX -or Fishland: https://temu.com/s/yALRSa11RGhiF
submitted by Son_of_S4m to TEMU_Official [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 05:26 Poke_The_Ball Just getting started with yugioh again, starting off on a fast foot!

Just getting started with yugioh again, starting off on a fast foot! submitted by Poke_The_Ball to yugiohshowcase [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 05:16 BSBubbaRobinsonLuv Radio traffic from the point of origin to that point of reception"AURAL TRANSFER"to my mouth, eyes, ear channels, nose cavity, chest, stomach, face&body....

Radio traffic from the point of origin to that point of reception
R.T.Grievances. Criminal pride of the airforce is in tonight. Heavy dB synthetic aperture radar radio gains to my ear channels. Heavy induced humming, ringing, static noise, white noise... Heavy induced radio gains to my feet and legs. This morning when I got up nothing but pain to my calfs. It was like a million needles hitting my calf muscles simultaneously. But the swelling from my feet had gone down tremendously from the night before. Since the criminal pride of the air base has come in this evening and plugged in as laptops. The swelling to my calves and feet have increased. And heavy, heavy induced dB radio gains to my ear channels. Heavy induced humming, ringing, static noise.... Stop tormenting and torturing me and other folks with your actions, access, use, of airforce synthetic aperture radars this Sunday evening. Leave me alone.
submitted by BSBubbaRobinsonLuv to u/BSBubbaRobinsonLuv [link] [comments]


2023.05.29 02:50 PedroPrisma meu mano!

meu mano! submitted by PedroPrisma to suddenlycaralho [link] [comments]