Andy

Uh....

ضرب ايران بالنووي ☢️ و كيفية حركة الرياح و اين سيتجه العصف النووي و رد ايران تحليل منقول

STOP SAYING THIS! it makes you look stupid and uneducated so let me explain. The avenger has a maximum lateral range of around 5 miles and a flight altitude of 11 kilofeet (lol fuck you europe) the aircraft experienced its initial descent over 25 KF. Above the flight ceiling and outside the engagement range of the avenger system. Furthermore, even if it could hit the aircraft the pilot 1000000% would know if they had been engaged and notified ATC. Also, engaging any aircraft (not ballistic missiles) requires about 10+ checks before weapons release. Including but not limited to iff interrogation, call to ATC to verify aircraft, clearance from ADAFCO, and confirmation that the Air Force cannot intercept. As for the “electronic engagement” theory that system nor any other one in the US arsenal can disable an aircraft in flight like that. The very best we could do is jam its GPS and TVM (track via missile) spoof. Worst conspiracy theory ever….. it’s always the loudest who voice only their ignorance.

“Didn’t even ask permission!” Tay shouted as she ripped through the gummed paper with her fingernails, then wadded up the poster’s remnants and hurled them in a ball at our feet. “It was a few seconds of dialogue,” I said, looking at her as she almost twitched with fury. “Fair use means what it means by law. And you know what they say, no such thing as bad publicity.” Tay rolled her eyes and made a scoffing sound in her throat. “How can you say that, Ben?” she asked. “And since when do you defend these people?” I considered the question for a couple of seconds, then chose my words carefully. “I think even you have to admit there’s a difference between defending someone, and pointing that what you think they’ve done wrong, isn’t a wrong.” “But that’s my content!” Tay said angrily. “And those idiots don’t even understand what I was trying to say! Using a clip from my tri-vid to make a point I wasn’t even trying to make—especially when it’s those particular morons—is obscene. I oughta sue.” I didn’t respond immediately. Just tucked my hands into my fleece jacket pockets and waited for Tay’s initial reaction to die down. We’d had this discussion before. But I’d never seen her get so furious. I chose to ignore the pedestrians streaming past us as we stood at the levitram platform—the pillars of which were plastered with all manner of posters, advertisements, slogans, graffiti, and whatnot. In this city it wasn’t against the law to paste things up on the public transit facilities, so long as they weren’t violating nudity, profanity, or violence statutes. And it wasn’t against the law, either, for a political streamtube ‘fluencer to quote a few seconds of tri-vid script. “You’ll be a long time getting that one to trial,” I eventually said. “And the AI grandjuror is liable to cite case precedent that blocks you from ever getting a live judge to hear it.” “But the nerve of these people,” Tay said, smacking her fist against the pillar where shreds of the poster still clung. “They know I hate them. They hate me! Where do they get off using a part of my tri-vid to push their horrid shit?” “So,” I said, looking idly up at the next levitram arrival time written in neon lettering suspended in mid-air over our heads, “you’d be surprised just how many people you don’t like, actually like your content. I know you think they’re stupid, but just because you disagree with them doesn’t make them dumb. Obnoxious? Sure, sometimes. But you’ve been obnoxious yourself when you feel like it. Is that a crime?” “But I’m on the right side!” Tay shouted, angrily thrusting her chin out at me. A few people near us—also waiting for the levitram—glanced over. Then quickly went back to staring at their phones. “I know you hate it when I tell you that’s not how history works,” I said, “but it’s true. We think we’re the pinnacle of human moral and intellectual achievement because we think everything in history has been leading up to this moment. But it hasn’t. History will go on its merry way long after we’re gone, and someone else a few hundred years from now will insist we were simply the stepping stones to her specific point in time, and so forth.” I could tell Tay was mentally winding up for another retort, but stopped herself. She may have been the rising tri-vid content star, but I was the one with the history degree, and the university professorship to prove it. Sure, some of the other faculty weren’t thrilled with how hard I worked to keep an open mind in these politically charged times, but I liked to think I didn’t take sides. Only tried to explain them to each other. Had done it during campus debates more than once. Which is where Tay had met me three years ago. I couldn’t call her a student, exactly. She’d never been in any class I’d taught. But she’d demanded to pick my brain about historical points for one of the short tri-vid pieces she’d been working on at the time, prior to graduation. We’d gotten along well enough, and become friends. Enough for her to invite me to be here, now, waiting on the levitram to go see her debut at the Orb downtown—a huge, spherical, full-surround theater that used state of the art projection to create fully immersive experiences for cinema audiences. I suspected half Tay’s anger was because her advanced showings had already made the rounds on social media. And now her big day had been ruined seeing some of the words she’d written for her characters being smacked up on a cheap political sign. By people with whom she ideologically disagreed vehemently. I sympathized. But only to a point. “It’s not like this phenomenon is isolated to tri-vid,” I reminded her. “Authors, poets, actors, and almost anyone else who creates or involved in creating anything in any medium, have always to deal with the fact that sometimes people we disagree with or don’t think very kindly of—or who don’t think very kindly of us—are going to latch onto something we’ve made. And we don’t have much control over that once it’s out in the public space. Calling them out for it just makes it worse, because it draws all kinds of attention to them in the process, while changing nothing about the fact they either like what you’ve made, or think they’ve discovered something in what you’ve made which proves their points for them.” “You’re not the one being mocked on opening day.” Tay said vehemently. “Two years before we met,” I said, “some advanced e-copies of my latest book on the American Civil War made the rounds, for the sake of reviews. I got the usual interest from the usual outlets and ‘fluencers, but then a couple of alterna-storians in the ‘fluencer world got ahold of it and began reading whole passages of it on their ‘casts to try to prove that I had inadvertently said something about the Confederacy which I did not in fact say.” Tay stared at me open-mouthed. “You never told me that! Did you demand legal action on the part of your publisher?” I shrugged. “I was incensed. Enough to email the ‘fluencers in question and demand they take the content down. But was told by their legal that it was fair use—and so I looked it up, and it was—and the publisher told me to calm down, it might actually help sales, because buzz was going strong, and you know what? Since then I’ve had many people write me to say they discovered my publishing because of those ‘fluencers and their content, but when they actually read me they changed their minds. You see? Without me even trying, I was able to have what I believe was a positive impact with people I’d have assumed at the beginning of the debacle I could never enjoy any agreement.” Tay slowly closed her mouth. “I never thought of it that way.” “Me neither!” I said, throwing my hands and arms out, laughing. “I was so pissed off at first. But I’ve had time to calm down and think about it, and I’ve decided that believing we have control over what we create for the world is like people thinking they have control over history. Been a lot of men—and a few women—who believed this across the centuries. They always want to bend the river of events to go where they will. And it just never works. History can’t be predicted nor dictated, because it’s just too complex. People are too complex. It’s never been any kind of ramp to a destination. Just a variably-oscillating waveform.” I could see I’d gotten her to consider the problem, so I pushed a bit further. “Besides,” I said, “I don’t think your situation is nearly as dire as all that." Tay started at me. I put a hand out placatingly before she could object. "Some people you are uncomfortable with supporting your content—because you think they support it for the wrong reasons—support it," I said. "Don’t let it get under your skin. And respect your audience above all. Those ‘fluencers aren’t the final arbiters of how your content will be received, either. People are going to make up their own minds. And that’s the real magic of creating something that has enough meaning for people they want to talk about or even use it to make a point. Be glad you can have the impact.” We stood silently for several minutes—the neon numbers over our heads telling us the levitram was soon to arrive—and Tay held her arms crossed over her chest while she thought about it. “Some of my friends will yell at me if I don’t denounce this. Like, today. At the Orb.” “You could certainly do that,” I said. “But again, there’s more than one kind of person who’s going to see and experience your content. You won’t know who’s in the audience at the Orb. Might be plenty of people who think like you and me. Might be some who don’t, and are only there to be critical. Or, might be some who’re neither, just heard about the debut, and are curious to see what the fuss is all about. Give them all some grace. Again, they’re gonna make up their own minds no matter how you try to steer it. I know from experience.” The levitram finally arrived, and we boarded along with several dozen others who’d been waiting. While I gripped the hand rail above our heads, I could see Tay concentrating. Her chin down on her chest. Both hands grasping the steel pole at my side with white-knuckled effort. She didn’t like what I’d told her. She didn’t like thinking that bad people who said bad things were saying good things about her tri-vid. She didn’t want to have to deal with her friends who’d lambast her for not publicly denouncing the ‘fluencers who’d grabbed on for the intellectual ride. But what could she really do? “You think people who already don’t like me will be swayed?” she asked as our car hummed towards its destination. “It’s not about saying them,” I said, “it’s about simply putting your heart into a thing, releasing it into the wild, and then it kinda goes on its own. All the old books and movies and songs were always like that. Did you know Bob Dylan supposedly didn’t like the fact that the 1960s counterculture latched onto his music?” “Bob who?” Tay simply said, her brow knitting in confusion. “Nevermind,” I said, “he was before you time. Hell, he was before my time, too. The point is he wrote and performed and recorded songs, and he had no control over how the audience responded to them. In the decades following a lot of artists got wrapped up in trying to control who responded to or used their content, and it got messy. Still gets messy. I just think perspective helps, that’s all. Make the tri-vids you want. Put them out into the world. Be thankful anybody even gives a damn. Whether you agree with their politics or not.” The levitram finally slowed to a halt and we stepped off onto the Orb’s dedicated platform along with most everyone else. Instead of walking promptly toward the VIP-access door, Tay simply stood and watched the number of people streaming through the general entrance. Most viewers would catch the tri-vid’s debut on streaming. But it was something else seeing them come to the show in person. Even the people who clearly—by dress and manner—weren’t necessarily Tay’s cup of tea. She watched as several of them respectfully walked through the doors into the Orb, then I motioned for the VIP entrance with my hand. “BREAD UPON THE WATER”—AN X VIGNETTE BY BRAD R. TORGERSEN

Federal Marshals just found 79 missing kids in Ohio. The media is silent because Biden lost kids and Trump is rescuing them!!! But the propaganda narrative is always opposite.

Let's pass a law that states the Mayor in any sanctuary city will be held criminally liable for crimes committed by illegal aliens residing in their city I'm betting that puts an end to the BS overnight!!

Now this guy knows how to do self defense properly 🤣