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This is what the bratty, ungrateful rich girls on the WNBA walked out on last night in the playoffs: a magnificent rendition of the National Anthem by a 10-year old wonder…who has more talent, class, and selfless patriotism than the all the walkouts combined.
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In June 1945, in Okinawa, a 22-year-old teacher named Keiko Mori was ordered to tell her 30 students to commit suicide with hand grenades rather than surrender. She refused. And she told her students, "Live. No matter what they say, you must live." While Japanese soldiers—who imposed death in the name of honor—searched for them, she kept her students hidden in a cave for 12 days.
Even when their food ran out, she sang songs and taught them arithmetic using stones. When the American soldiers finally discovered the cave, she came out first, holding a white shirt aloft to shield her students. The American soldiers were about to shoot her, but seeing the children behind her, they lowered their weapons. And they shared chocolate with the children.
After the war, some Japanese people branded her a "traitor to the nation," but her 30 students survived. In 1975, a small statue was erected in her honor in Okinawa. The statue, which depicts a teacher holding a white shirt, bears these words: "She taught us the bravest lesson of all: to 'live.'" Despite being ordered to accept death, this young teacher chose to fight to protect the lives of 30 children.
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A fanatic anti-Trump crusader declares the Alaska Democratic candidate scandal no big deal.
A 2nd Dan Sullivan on Alaska's ballot is politics not criminality, & Alaska's Supreme Court already said he could stay on
Last week Trump's DOJ sued to stop AK from certifying the result, & now it's making a fed case 5 days before the election -TN
apnews.com/article/alaska-pe…
#OTD 30 Oct 1942 the unescorted West Kebar (Master Dwight A. Smith) was hit on the starboard side by one torpedo from U-129 while steaming on a nonevasive course at 9 knots about 350 miles northeast of Barbados. Crew 57 (3 dead and 54 survivors). uboat.net/allies/merchants/s…
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What a heartbreaking week it has been. Sir Patrick Stewart was a friend, a colleague, and a magnificent actor. From the stage to the bridge of the Enterprise, he brought intelligence, grace, and a deep sense of humanity to everything he did. Captain Picard stood for the best of us, and so did the man who played him. I was filled with affection and admiration for him and his work.
My heart goes out to Sunny and his family. He will be deeply missed.
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Twenty Japanese fourth graders. One Texan. Fifteen minutes. Any question allowed.
My friend from Texas volunteered at the after-school program near my apartment. I went along to translate.
"Do you have a horse?"
"No. I have a truck. It's a horse that drinks gas."
"Can you do a cowboy voice?"
"Little buddy, this IS my voice."
"Have you seen a tornado?"
"Twice. From the storm cellar. My grandma ate crackers and watched it like TV."
"What are you scared of?"
"Spiders. Heights. And my mama."
"Is Texas bigger than Japan?"
"Almost twice. Don't tell Alaska."
Then the smallest girl in the room raised her hand.
"Do you miss your mama?"
He took off his hat. It was quiet for a while.
"Every single day, darlin'."
She thought about that. Then she said:
"Then call her."
So he did. On speaker.
It was 4 p.m. in Tokyo. It was 2 a.m. in Texas.
She picked up on the second ring.
"Baby? What's wrong?"
Twenty Japanese fourth graders shouted:
"HELLO, MAMA!"
There was a long silence.
Then a laugh. Then something that wasn't a laugh.
He's called her every Sunday since.
He tells her it wasn't his idea. It was a nine-year-old's.
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So this super skinny young cat showed up on our property hanging out by our hay shed and horse shelter….desperately following me… “Noooo I don’t want or need another animal”😫
He followed me and almost got killed by my horse who was in a foul mood … literally missed crushing him by an inch …. Skin and bones…. Pouring rain for days…. “I’ll just provide a little shelter and food but he’s not staying”…!!
Welcome our new family member
Julius….. It took 3 days. 🤣
BREAKING:😮😲Elon Musk Just Donated $1.5 Billion — But Wait Until You Hear Why
AUSTIN, Texas – Billionaire entrepreneur Elon Musk announced on Friday that he will donate $1.5 billion of his personal wealth to fund a nationwide housing initiative aimed at providing shelter for homeless families with children across the United States.—
(what is your thoughts 🤔
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Elon Musk was asked at a conference whether he is happy. The pause before he answered lasted long enough that the audience shifted in their seats. The answer, when it came, was not what anyone expected from the richest man alive.
He said he doesn't think happiness is the right framework. He said his brain is "a very, very bad neighborhood" that he wouldn't recommend visiting. He said the experience of being him is one of constant output at the expense of internal peace. The production never stops. The mental simulation of problems, solutions, designs, and possibilities runs continuously, including during sleep, and there is no mechanism to turn it off. The brain that produces extraordinary external results produces extraordinary internal discomfort.
He compared his mind to a never ending explosion. Not a metaphor he used casually. An explosion. Constant expansion in all directions simultaneously. The explosion produces the companies, the products, the ideas, and the ambition. It also produces the insomnia, the inability to be present in relationships, the emotional unavailability that every partner has described, and the restlessness that makes ordinary human activities feel like a waste of processing power.
The answer was not self pity. It was clinical. He was describing the architecture of his own mind the way he would describe the architecture of a rocket engine: here is how it works, here is what it produces, here is what it costs. The cost of the mind that runs 6 companies is that the mind cannot be peaceful. The peace and the production are mutually exclusive. He chose production.
The audience wanted to hear "yes, I'm happy, and you can be too." They got: my brain is a bad neighborhood and the price of what I build is that I never rest. The honesty was so total that the room didn't know how to respond. The moderator moved on quickly.
The richest man alive does not experience happiness in the way the question implied. He experiences drive. He experiences the satisfaction of solving problems. He experiences the compulsion to build. But the quiet contentment that the word "happy" suggests is not available to him because the quiet is not available. The engine does not idle. The engine only runs.
He answered the question the way he answers everything: honestly, technically, and in a way that made everyone in the room grateful they are not him.
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Halloween 2026 at the White House. Another tradition proudly protected by the United States Secret Service.
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9 days ago, this cat lived on the street and was facing an overnight temperature of 36 degrees. We brought him and his brother in at 11pm. JUST LOOK at him now ❤️
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飼い猫がいなくなって三日目、私は猫缶一つで、近所の野良猫に捜索を頼んだ。
荷物を受け取ろうと玄関を開けた隙に、うちの猫が外へ出た。
いつもなら廊下の端まで行って戻ってくる。
でも、その日は引っ越しの搬入があり、階段へ続く扉が開けたままになっていた。気づいた時には、どこにもいなかった。
それから三日間、夜になると懐中電灯を持って近所を歩いた。
車の下、植木鉢の裏、建物の隙間。
名前を呼んでは黙って耳を澄ませた。
一度、猫の声がして、一時間近く待ったことがある。出てきたのは、駐車場でよく見かける大きなキジトラだった。
片方の耳の先が少し欠けている。
何度かごはんをあげたことはあるけれど、触らせてくれたことはない。
三日目の夜、またその猫に会った。
鞄には、うちの猫を呼び寄せるための猫缶が残っていた。
それを開けて置き、少し離れてしゃがんだ。いつもうちの猫が寝ていたタオルも、そばに広げた。
外の猫に頼むと、迷子の猫を連れてきてくれる。
そんな話を聞いたことがあった。
本当かどうかは分からない。でも、まだ試していないことなら、何でもやってみたかった。
キジトラはタオルのにおいを嗅ぎ、ごはんを食べ始めた。
私はスマホで写真まで見せた。
「この子を見かけたら、帰るように言ってくれない? 家、すぐそこだから」
言いながら、自分でも何をしているんだろうと思った。
キジトラは完食すると口の周りを舐め、私の横を通り過ぎていった。
空き缶を持って帰ると、夫に見つかったかと聞かれた。
「まだ。でも、探してくれる子を一人雇ってきた」
夫は、保護活動をしている人に頼めたのだと思ったらしい。
私は説明する気力がなく、そのまま手を洗った。
夜十一時頃、そろそろ寝ようとした時だった。
玄関の外で、猫が鳴いた。
スリッパが片方脱げたまま、ドアへ走った。
うちの猫だった。
毛が少し逆立って、体にはほこりがついていた。ドアを開けると足の間をすり抜け、まっすぐ部屋へ走り込んだ。
テーブルの下に潜り、こちらを見て一声鳴いた。
でも、目は何度も玄関のほうへ向いた。
振り返ると、数メートル先に、あのキジトラが立っていた。
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At my parents' house, I played an old American TV theme on YouTube. Just to see what would happen.
My father was reading the newspaper. He put it down.
My father does not talk about his childhood. In my whole life, I've heard maybe five stories.
In the next twenty minutes, I heard eleven.
"Rawhide. Every boy in our town sang that song. None of us knew the words. We knew 'Rawhide.'"
"Combat! We played it in the rice fields. I was always the sergeant, because I had the stick that looked most like a rifle."
"Lassie. I begged my father for a collie. We got a shiba. He was a very good Lassie."
"Bonanza. Their house had stairs inside. I thought only castles had those."
Then he got quiet.
"There was one called Father Knows Best. The father came home from work, and everyone was happy to see him."
He picked the newspaper back up.
"I wanted to be that kind of father."
Then, from behind the paper, very quietly:
"I don't know if I was."
From the kitchen, without turning around, my mother said:
"You were."
He didn't put the newspaper down for a long time.



































