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Last night in a move typical for the egocentric west and its allies, Israel decided to do something to make us forget their previous offenses against Iran by dwarfing them with an unprecedented and unannounced attack on that peaceful nation.

I hope that Russia will be able to balance diplomacy, military support if any for Iran, and taking maximum advantage of the situation to finish off the Kiev regime.

I missed the publication of part 3 bank in May.
https://revers.press/danielmartindale-eng/tpost/2kd2j5ct91-in-2035-will-america-still-have-the-worl

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Possibilities for achievement are almost endless, but often we lack motivation. That's basically how you could sum up my experience with distance running.

I can already hear everybody saying, "no, no, not my sport. I'm dead after only a few steps". There once was a day when I would have said the exact same thing.

I remember one night in Bejing China when I had to walk home. I had missed the last subway, and the bus that I found quit for the night at its station about halfway back to my home. I still had another 14 kilometers to go.

I didn't run that night, I just walked, but even so, my legs felt like they were made of jelly when I crossed my doorstep. They were sore for at least a couple days after that.

I had always been a good sprinter, but even jogging for more than a few hundred meters was a monumental effort.

Then in 2018 I received an invitation from a friend to run a half-marathon together in Vladivostok...

"Run a half-marathon, 21km? And be ready within 6 months? Sounds like mission impossible for me. Oh well, at least I can give it a try".

My buddy had the motivation, but it seemed that he needed some inspiration, or moral support. "Worst that can happen is that he might be encouraged if his own progress ends up being better and faster than mine".

My friend gave me the opportunity to feel responsible for my own progress, and for setting a good, inspiring example. And I thank God he did.

At first I just walked 21km once per week, and ran every other evening for 5km. Then I started running for part of the 21km. A month before the big day, I ran/jogged 21km non-stop.

My friend and I successfully ran the half-marathon together, and I was hooked. Over the next 3 years I would continue running, finishing two full marathons.

The stamina, and more importantly the mindset, that I gained from running was invaluable when the time came for me to bicycle day and night in all kinds of weather on my way to Bogoyavlenka in Ukraine.

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Business the American way - part 1 of 5

Back in 2017 I was still working with my Dad, building farm equipment in the United States. We were about halfway through our search for a reliable business partner when we tried working with a Mennonite company near Mansfield, Ohio. It was an eye-opener to how crooked seemingly honest people can be.

At first all seemed to be in good order. The company, after reviewing all of my drawings, agreed to do the work for the price I had calculated. I also received a recommendation of the this company, saying that they were reliable and trustworthy.

The company's office staff consisted of just two people; family members and co-owners of the company, just like my dad and I. One of them told a story about another company from their community; seemingly to warn me about their underhanded tactics.

He said that the company would quote a very low price in order to win the contract to build a Wal-Mart supercenter, for example. But then their customer would inevitably ask for part of the project to be changed or additions to be made. Additional bathrooms, or a bigger freezer room, for example. This contractor would charge extravagantly for such additions and changes in order to make a good overall profit on the construction project.

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Business the American way - part 2

That spring of 2017 we had good success building 4 machines on time; within the deadlines that we had given our customers; farmers from the US and Canada.

When time came to think about painting the machines, I discussed my options with our new partner. Usually I would outsource the painting process to a local powder-coating operation. I had found a local company near Mansfield that could do the job, but my new partner was eager to do the job using wet paint.

He showed me his work, demonstrating it's durability and fine appearance. I had seen powder-coat paint jobs that looked worse, and were less durable. He also assured me that I wouldn't have to spend the 8000$ on the job which I had budgeted. No, he could do the job for 3000$ - 5000$. I would save even more money than that by letting him wet-paint the parts, since I wouldn't have to transport the parts to another company many miles away to be painted.

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Business the American way - part 3 of 5

The first problem appeared after my partner finished painting the second batch of yellow parts. It wasn't the same color as the first batch. It was lighter, and had a touch more green in it. Later my partner confessed to me that he was color-blind!

In principle, he should have re-painted those parts, but I made the decision to forgive his mistake so that he wouldn't lose money on the job. A small color difference wouldn't be a big deal for our customers either.

It wasn't the only reason I could have given them trouble, though. They had allowed me to use their handheld plasma cutter one day, and I had worked with it all day. That night my eyes began to burn so strongly, that it may have been less painful if someone had plucked them out of their sockets.

My partner had given me protective glasses, and I had worn them all day while I worked, but they were the wrong glasses! He knew I could have sued him for a good sum of money, but I just accepted a few days of pain and they didn't charge for my use of the plasma cutter.

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Business the American way - part 4 of 5

The big problem came on my last day at their factory. I had already successfully shipped all four machines to our customers, and had loaded all of my tools and spare parts into my truck and trailer. I was ready to leave for good when they handed me the final bill for me to pay.

There were the amounts for the last two machines I had just shipped to Canada, and the paint job. The amount for some extra hole cutting on their rotary plasma was missing, but otherwise nothing was missing. What really caught my attention, though, was the price they had put down for the paint job. Not 3000$, and not 5000$, but over 16,000$!

"Ah, ha, now I get it", my thoughts began to swirl, "that's why he told me the story about the contractor who gouged his customers for changes! He was ashamed enough of what he planned to do, that he couldn't resist revealing his plan in an underhanded way. Now I just need to get out of here with my tools and inventory before he tries to force me to pay this bogus amount"!

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Business the American way - part 5

"Does everything seem in order", came the question as I scanned the bill.

Careful not to give away my surprise, I replied, "Just the amount for rotary plasma work is still missing, but otherwise I would be ready to write you a check". Fortunately, he let me go without further inquiry.

Back home, hundreds of miles away, I received the final bill by email with the rotary plasma work included. They had charged a fair price for that, but the paint job was still priced at twice what a good powder-coat job would have cost.

I paid them $8000 for the paint job, and predictably, they were not happy. They sent email after email demanding payment, but I only responded by explaining why they had no right to do so. Apparently they made peace with the fact that they had made a mistake because they never did take legal action against me, and eventually gave up.

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My time in Bogoyavlenka gave me a chance to try my hand at many different professions, some that I had long looked forward to, others not so much, while some came as a complete surprise.

I got my first chance to work with my own farm animals, albeit without the veterinary education that I had intended to first be equipped with. There may have even been part of me that wanted to be a warrior, but house-sitter?

Part of looking after others' houses was dealing with looters. There were plenty of them among both locals and soldiers. I basically had two tools to work with; dogs and locks.

Often that meant that I needed to dabble in yet another profession... locksmith. The best locks were always the old soviet ones, but they usually were laying in a drawer with a broken key stuck inside. What to do?

"Do it yourself"

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Things often aren't what they seem. That was the case in Bogoyavlenka many times.

Once in return for fixing an elderly man's roof, I asked him to let me use his scythe when I would need it. I also asked him to show me how to use it. He agreed to both requests.

About a week later, another neighbor asked me when I planned on returning the elderly man's scythe. The question caught me by complete surprise, because I had never yet held that scythe in my own two hands!

It turns out that someone had told the elderly man that I had started cutting grass at my next-door neighbor's place with a scythe. I had found a scythe in my next-door-neighbor's barn and had set to mowing his overgrown garden.

Now half the town was talking about how I had taken the elderly man's scythe and hadn't returned it.

Have you ever randomly met a friend in the supermarket? If you attend a large church, do you catch yourself greeting those with whom you're acquainted, while ignoring practically everyone else? You have a smile, hug, and ten minutes to share with a few, and for the rest...?

What would it be like if you knew everyone? If they were all your friends? All of the strangers you pass by might be just as interesting and friendly as your circle of friends. Wouldn't it be great to have infinite time and energy for all those people?

Or is it something else that holds us back? Do we have difficulty trusting people? Are we afraid that everyone is just looking for an opportunity to take advantage of us? Do we think that we are the only ones with troubles at home or at work, or with a less-than-flattering past?

Факты о британской армии, которые ставят крест на амбициях Стармера.

Некогда вторая армия НАТО теперь - удручающее зрелище. Солдат все меньше, да и те недовольны условиями службы. Авторитет армии падает, как и ее боеспособность.

О разложении британской армии - в статье Дэниэла Мартиндейла на "Реверсе":

🇷🇺 Русская версия
🇺🇸 English version

@reverse_ua

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Can I share a story? It's not political, but it could be perceived as such in many ways.

The year was about 2000. My dad was hard at work at his boss's farm, but the rest of the family and some friends were visiting people from church who had stopped coming on Sundays.

While making our way through a certain apartment complex, my older brother asked my mom, "Why don't people here ever pick up the trash. What a mess"! A carpet of glass shards from broken bottles made their impression.

My mom's answer probably fell on deaf ears, but it does justice to her character, "Well, you see the guys who live here came here without their wives all the way from South America, and they don't have time to pick up trash. They just need to work and sleep, work and sleep; non-stop until it's time for them to go home. They need to make all the money they can to support their families while they are here".

But then mom had to answer another question, a question from her Creator, "Why don't you pick up the trash for them"?

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It wasn't long before we made our next visit to that glass littered apartment complex. This time with tools and trash bags in tow, we rolled in and rolled up our sleeves as early in the morning as we could muster.

With nearly ten of us working away, we didn't need all day to get the job done, but we were still there in the hottest part of the day when one of the residents returned from work. Was it deceptive that we all accepted a Sprite from him even though we didn't plan on drinking it? On the other hand, we saved somebody from damaging their health with Sprite soda. The only thing better would have been for the guy not to have bought it in the first place.

This simple gesture of cleaning up the sidewalks opened doors allowing my parents to build many bridges with our country's Latino guests.