Don Edwards

I still fucking love that when Putin declared that Ukraine was not a country, the Ukrainians responded by withdrawing Volodymyr the Great's charter for the founding of Moscow, revoking its right to exist as a city.

At least it isn't a STUPID answer, like midichlorians.

My dad's job during WWII was aircraft quality control across multiple factories. He was not only exempted from the draft, he was kicked out (and sent back to flying his private plane over the western US and Canada making sure airplane parts from factory A connected properly with parts from factory B ) all four times he enlisted.
 

My dad's job during WWII was aircraft quality control across multiple factories. He was not only exempted from the draft, he was kicked out (and sent back to flying his private plane over the western US and Canada making sure airplane parts from factory A connected properly with parts from factory B ) all four times he enlisted.
 

My dad's job during WWII was aircraft quality control across multiple factories. He was not only exempted from the draft, he was kicked out (and sent back to flying his private plane over the western US and Canada making sure airplane parts from factory A connected properly with parts from factory B ) all four times he enlisted.
 

"a dear bought victory; another such would have ruined us" - General Clinton, British Army, after the Battle of Bunker Hill in the American Revolution.
(Setup: Bunker Hill had a commanding view of Boston Harbor; if the rebellious Americans could put artillery there, they could deny the harbor to British ships. The land approaches to Bunker Hill, however, were similarly challenged by Breed's Hill. The American forces, then generally regarded as not amounting to much, were therefore entrenched on Breed's Hill, and the British decided that could not stand. In the end the British won, but in the process they lost nearly half of their forces in the Boston area - more than twice as many casualties as the Americans took - and 1/4 of all officers lost over the course of the entire war.)

The problem is that urban warfare is a rather different animal than urban law enforcement. I am very much afraid that the proliferation of automatic weaponry, hand grenades and more modern tactics has made it a bad time to be a horse in a place like Kherson or Bakhmut. This is not even mentioning open land. Horses might still be useful for transport, I admit, but the wise rider will keep his animal away from the front lines.
This gives me an amazing mental image of a moon base where astronaut cavalry patrols its environs on spacesuited horses.

To be fair to Hitler, he at least did somewhat better during his initial invasion of Ukraine.

Speaking of the defeat parade, apparently the T-34 caught wind of a rumour that it was to be sent to Ukraine after the parade and tried to injure itself to avoid going into the grinder.
https://twitter.com/DarthPutinKGB/status/1655946975836262400?cxt=HHwWgMDS2YfAjfstAAAA

Allegedly, Prime Minister Winston Churchill did... at least once. "This is the kind of tedious nonsense up with which I will not put."
Then there's the time a father went upstairs to read his son a bedtime story, only to have the child express disapproval of the chosen book. "What did you bring the book I don't like to be read to out of up for?" (Ending a sentence with five prepositions.)

The pushing wasn't the problem. It was the poking.

Thus causing millions of people to get more exercise by taking the stairs, instead. Brilliant!

Can I believe someone who claims to be an expert on the Dunning-Kruger effect?
 

It looks like I'm going to be paying the hospital a visit today. I've had pain building in my upper right arm since early last week. It's got to the point where anything I lift-even the arm itself-gives me a 9 to 9.5 pain on the 0-to-10 pain scale. My pain pills are doing nothing for me. I'm suffering.
I went to my pain management doctor's office on Monday, and they recommended that I go to the ER if it got any worse.  I've tried to hold out, but last night my wife suggested I go ahead and go in after we get dressed and ready Wednesday morning.
I have no clue if they'll admit me, or even if they'll give me additional pain medicine. The only way to find out is to go. I'll update you as soon as I can.
 

On a related note, the anti-war pro-Putin faction in Denmark has come up with an amazing new argument.
One side effect of Denmark sending as much gear as possible to Ukraine is that when we replace it, it is generally with newer and better materiel. I mean yes it is not great that it is old stuff the Ukrainians are getting but at least they are getting it right away. But Denmark still needs vehicles and weapons of its own and replacements obviously tend to be more modern.
The Putinists are referring to this as 'stealth mobilization' and is warning that this will lead... to Denmark taking a more aggressive stance against her neighbours.
...
...dafuq?
Denmark is literally the smallest nation in all of northern Europe with the possible exception of Luxembourg. I don't think we've waged a war of expansion since the 17th Century, and the ones we fought in then did not end well. Well, yes, Luxembourg is smaller than Denmark but I do not quite see the Danish Army beat aside the Germans and the French on our way there. I swear to God, the Putinists have lost control of their single brain cell and it is desperately hiding from them now.
 
(In my teens I did once formulate a plan for Denmark regaining control of southern Sweden, but it involved airdropping large amounts of Schnapps and beer over strategically important junctions and then moving in with truckloads of more booze we would hand over for free. I figured we would be greeted as liberators because of Sweden's near-Prohibition level control of alcohol sales. Sadly, my plan never gained much traction, though my military acquaintances did say it was a lot less likely to lead to mass casualties than conventional warfare.)

Bumping into them?

I have a feeling that the Immortals are less than 100% free to rewrite their laws any way they like - that there are some constraints they can't violate, or maybe they can violate a little bit over on this edge if they are careful to stay sufficiently clear of that edge over there.
And that the "can't go through walls" is a side effect which they discovered after agreeing to new rules.

I have a feeling that the Immortals are less than 100% free to rewrite their laws any way they like - that there are some constraints they can't violate, or maybe they can violate a little bit over on this edge if they are careful to stay sufficiently clear of that edge over there.
And that the "can't go through walls" is a side effect which they discovered after agreeing to new rules.

The Department of Redundancy Department creates those acronyms.

The army of Westria lined the ridge to the north of the narrow valley. Knights in plate armor astride their horses, light cavalry and infantry in chain, archers in leather, and wizards in robes eyed the Nomi forces similarly arrayed to their south. This day might define the balance of power among the kingdoms on the great island of Everness for the next several generations.
A plume of road-dust appeared over the lower, eastern end of the valley, slowly moving toward them. The commanders on both sides paused, wondering who would be so foolish as to take that road on this day.
Two sets of hooves pounded up the valley, one approaching the Westrain leaders, the other the Nomi. Hurried conversations, and the newly-arrived soldiers were handed staves with white banners attached. They - and only those two - then went down into the valley, meeting at the stream which approximated its centerline.
Conversing briefly, they returned to their own commanders. Orders were given. The mounted soldiers dismounted, and most of the troops on both sides withdrew down the far sides of their respective ridges, leaving only guard details keeping an eye on each other.
The wagon continued up the valley, drawn by a pair of wyverns. The young woman driving it smiled as the subtle changes in the appearance of the ridges revealed to her that the armies were withdrawing. Many good men will live at least one more day, because I am here. And perhaps...
Grantorex soared over the mountain, and glanced down the valley to the east. She could just make out a plume of road dust in the distance. After a brief return to her cavern she flew toward it. On her way she noted the two armies' supply caravans, and the cattle that were both draft animals and stocks of meat for the soldiers - they could spare a few on each side. Brief detours had her sweeping over each army in turn, notifying them of the presence of one they would not wish to annoy.
Moments later she could make out the two wyverns. Good. This wagon was almost certainly the one she awaited. A closer approach confirmed it, and the young human made gestures she knew to be friendly greetings.
She plucked an animal from one of the armies with one huge forepaw, and likewise from the other army with the other. Then she chose to settle on the valley floor, next to the stream, almost exactly between where the two armies' commanders had been earlier. It would save her visitor two days' travel each direction - those poor non-flying creatures are so slow! And also disrupt the armies' intentions which, left unchecked, would render the valley unfit for deer or cattle - her food supply - for several years.
The stream ran red with blood. From the two cattle she had taken. She managed with some difficulty to hang one of them from a tree, close to the ground, and then ate the other.
Shortly before sunset the wyvern-drawn wagon reached where she lay.
"Minka," Grantorex rumbled, "how fare your hoard and your clutch?"
"My hoard does well enough, thank you. But I have not taken a mate, so have no clutch as yet."
"Ah, well, even for a human you are yet young. Here is the design I was thinking of." She rolled out the animal-hide she had retrieved from her cavern.
Minka was experienced at interpreting dragon artwork. Grantorex's finest claw-tip was thicker than Minka's thumb, so certain inadequacies were expected. The young woman took another hide from inside her wagon, along with brushes and paints, and quickly painted an outline strongly resembling Grantorex's work but in much finer detail.
After some discussion and a few small additions, the two females agreed on the design. Minka then turned to the dead cow. Skinning it, she cut off several choice segments for her own use over the next few days, and fed a fourth part of the remainder to the wyverns.
The next morning she got out her needles, drills, and pigments, and began copying the design from the animal hide to Grantorex's scales, between her wings.
The process took fifteen days. As the seasons were turning, the two armies had to return home so the men could harvest the crops; peace would return for at least a few months. They did lose a few more cattle before leaving, though.
A bag of jewels were transferred from Grantorex's hoard to Minka's. The former flew back to her mountain. Minka took down the animal hides hanging on the sides of her wagon and replaced them with the two versions of what she had just done for Grantorex. Then she turned her wagon back down the valley and toward the road to her next client.
She traveled in perfect safety of course. Nobody - neither armies nor highwaymen - would dare trouble the girl who did dragon tattoos.
-------------------------------------------------------------
yeah, that story exists because I misread a book title...

Does not want what she has.
Does not want change.
Does not know what she wants.
Should this be on the political thread?

The army of Westria lined the ridge to the north of the narrow valley. Knights in plate armor astride their horses, light cavalry and infantry in chain, archers in leather, and wizards in robes eyed the Nomi forces similarly arrayed to their south. This day might define the balance of power among the kingdoms on the great island of Everness for the next several generations.
A plume of road-dust appeared over the lower, eastern end of the valley, slowly moving toward them. The commanders on both sides paused, wondering who would be so foolish as to take that road on this day.
Two sets of hooves pounded up the valley, one approaching the Westrain leaders, the other the Nomi. Hurried conversations, and the newly-arrived soldiers were handed staves with white banners attached. They - and only those two - then went down into the valley, meeting at the stream which approximated its centerline.
Conversing briefly, they returned to their own commanders. Orders were given. The mounted soldiers dismounted, and most of the troops on both sides withdrew down the far sides of their respective ridges, leaving only guard details keeping an eye on each other.
The wagon continued up the valley, drawn by a pair of wyverns. The young woman driving it smiled as the subtle changes in the appearance of the ridges revealed to her that the armies were withdrawing. Many good men will live at least one more day, because I am here. And perhaps...
Grantorex soared over the mountain, and glanced down the valley to the east. She could just make out a plume of road dust in the distance. After a brief return to her cavern she flew toward it. On her way she noted the two armies' supply caravans, and the cattle that were both draft animals and stocks of meat for the soldiers - they could spare a few on each side. Brief detours had her sweeping over each army in turn, notifying them of the presence of one they would not wish to annoy.
Moments later she could make out the two wyverns. Good. This wagon was almost certainly the one she awaited. A closer approach confirmed it, and the young human made gestures she knew to be friendly greetings.
She plucked an animal from one of the armies with one huge forepaw, and likewise from the other army with the other. Then she chose to settle on the valley floor, next to the stream, almost exactly between where the two armies' commanders had been earlier. It would save her visitor two days' travel each direction - those poor non-flying creatures are so slow! And also disrupt the armies' intentions which, left unchecked, would render the valley unfit for deer or cattle - her food supply - for several years.
The stream ran red with blood. From the two cattle she had taken. She managed with some difficulty to hang one of them from a tree, close to the ground, and then ate the other.
Shortly before sunset the wyvern-drawn wagon reached where she lay.
"Minka," Grantorex rumbled, "how fare your hoard and your clutch?"
"My hoard does well enough, thank you. But I have not taken a mate, so have no clutch as yet."
"Ah, well, even for a human you are yet young. Here is the design I was thinking of." She rolled out the animal-hide she had retrieved from her cavern.
Minka was experienced at interpreting dragon artwork. Grantorex's finest claw-tip was thicker than Minka's thumb, so certain inadequacies were expected. The young woman took another hide from inside her wagon, along with brushes and paints, and quickly painted an outline strongly resembling Grantorex's work but in much finer detail.
After some discussion and a few small additions, the two females agreed on the design. Minka then turned to the dead cow. Skinning it, she cut off several choice segments for her own use over the next few days, and fed a fourth part of the remainder to the wyverns.
The next morning she got out her needles, drills, and pigments, and began copying the design from the animal hide to Grantorex's scales, between her wings.
The process took fifteen days. As the seasons were turning, the two armies had to return home so the men could harvest the crops; peace would return for at least a few months. They did lose a few more cattle before leaving, though.
A bag of jewels were transferred from Grantorex's hoard to Minka's. The former flew back to her mountain. Minka took down the animal hides hanging on the sides of her wagon and replaced them with the two versions of what she had just done for Grantorex. Then she turned her wagon back down the valley and toward the road to her next client.
She traveled in perfect safety of course. Nobody - neither armies nor highwaymen - would dare trouble the girl who did dragon tattoos.
-------------------------------------------------------------
yeah, that story exists because I misread a book title...

https://www.egscomics.com/egsnp/wie-108
Be careful which piece of your mind you give away, Rich.
You don't have a lot to spare. 

Indiana used to also ignore DST. From what I read (and if I remember correctly), the state legislature commissioned a study of the economic impact, and found that taking up DST like the rest of the country would have an economic impact on the state's economy of NEGATIVE 3 billion dollars a year - so they decided to do it.

Truly not D & D.