International Association of Time Travelers: Members’ Forum Subforum: Europe – Twentieth Century – Second World War Page 263
11/15/2104 At 14:52:28, FreedomFighter69 wrote: Reporting my first temporal excursion since joining IATT: have just returned from 1936 Berlin, having taken the place of one of Leni Riefenstahl’s cameramen and assassinated Adolf Hitler during the opening of the Olympic Games. Let a free world rejoice!
When a bank wants to encrypt information with you, here’s the gist of what happens: Bob (the bank) sends to Alice a box with two keyholes, and one key. You need both keys to open the box, but one key opens a mail-slot. Alice opens the mail-slot, and puts her message and sends it back. Bob uses the key that he didn’t give, and the key that was sent to open the box and read the message. You might be wondering, why we need two keys anyway. This was a bit contrived on my part, but it’ll make the next part easier to understand.
You’re away from the comforts of home, you’re in a foreign land, and the locals are shooting at you. Because of this, you have to rely strongly on the people in your unit. If you don’t have that support, it’s the worst thing possible, because aside from the lack of friendship, the loneliness and the boredom, you don’t ever want someone to pause when you need rescuing. You want your squad members to jump into a hail of bullets to rescue you if necessary, and not think about that time you stole his girlfriend, ate his last donut, or got the promotion he deserved.
My work was hosting a group African businessmen, mostly from Nigeria, Ghana and Tanzania if I remember correctly. They were there because their governments were buying our products en masse for their big cities and were getting major discounts and so were visiting our headquarters.
They were waiting in the lobby putting on their name tags as my colleague and I were walking back in after lunch.
My story takes place in Lagos Nigeria. When I was a junior in high school, i was busy cutting class hanging out in the library with my friends like I usually do. Then this senior suddenly rushes into the silent library and screamed “hey everybody Mr. Are is getting beat up”.
Mr.Are was the economics teacher and was arguably one of the most annoying teachers we had, he was very strict and seemed to derive a little too much pleasure out of flogging us with canes which he did often and for silly reasons, like walking too slow or having “swagger”, so most of us didn’t like him and “had it in” for him. So let’s just say he was unpopular.
So we hear this guy is getting his shit kicked in and we just assume it must be by a student, who was tired of his flogging and decided to fight back. So the entire library empties instantly like 100 plus kids eager to join a fight and possible riot or at the very least watch mortal combat between a student and a teacher, runs out. So we follow the senior to the scene of the battle which is taking place in a courtyard under the staff building, we get there and stop at the opposite end of the courtyard and witness something spectacular. It’s not a student beating up Mr. Are, but a gang of about 20 thugs kicking the shit out of ALL OUR TEACHERS.
It was a total warzone out there, We later learned that Mr. Are had apparently flogged the son of a rich chief who then came to the school with thugs to beat Mr. ARE up, and the other teachers intervened so the thugs decided to beat them all up (the teachers).
It was basically an all out war between our teachers and the thugs, the teachers had suffered heavy casualties though, the teachers were fighting the thugs back as hard as they can with mop sticks, benches and whatever make shift weapon they could find, but most of them had given up. I particularly noticed my further math teacher who I knew as very gentle man who lives a quite life and never bothered anybody.
This guy was fucking awesome he was completely fearless and fought like a fucking warrior, he was ruthless he held a bench in one hand like a shield and a broken off mop stick which he swung like a sword in the other hand, and he fought those thugs like a fucking boss, just picture Achilles single handedly taking the beach of troy, that’s how badass he looked. he was basically the only teacher still fighting, him and the school security guard. The rest of the teachers were either begging or on the floor crying, Mr. ARE had already been thoroughly beaten and seemed to be unconscious, he was being held up by two crying female teachers. Only my further math teacher (which we subsequently nicknamed warrior) and the school security guard continued to resist the 20 or so thugs, While the rich chief and his family stood aside looking justified as the action unfolded. He had apparently had brought most of his family for the operation, there were two wives one was holding a baby , 3 teenage children two girls and a boy (the son that had been flogged by Mr. ARE)
So this was the scene that was unfolding when we got there, me and my buddies (most of which were on the basketball team) were among the first kids on the scene.When we got there (like 100+ students) everybody just stopped what they were doing and looked at us. It felt like a Mexican standoff, the other sides were probably wondering how this horde of kids that just arrived was going to react. I’m pretty sure the teachers themselves knew that we could go either way; we would either help them or help the thugs or just plain riot. So the fighting stops and everybody stops and looks at us waiting for our reaction.
There was no formal consensus among us, but for some reason we decided to attack the thugs. somebody among us shouted that “we were being invaded by thugs” and “we must defend our school” so we went ballistic, took up sticks, stones, broken bottles, our belts and any weapon we could find and ran into battle to fight off the thugs. This hoard of kids, carrying sticks probably looked pretty menacing because I saw most of the thugs run in the opposite direction, jump over the fence and high tail it out of there. Three of the thugs remained they must have thought that we were just school kids and must be easy to beat up which was very foolish of them, because this was like a horde of 100, 15-18 year olds bearing down with sticks and other crude weapons. So two of the remaining three thugs didn’t really do anything, they just stood around the chief and his family holding sticks as if they were waiting for orders , and one I think the boss thug, ran up to meet us in battle in the middle of the courtyard. He must have thought that if he could sufficiently “fuck up” a few of us, then the rest of us would be too scared to face him so as we ran up to meet them, to be honest I and most of us were kind of scared and “held back” a little, The bigger and braver ones among us (my basketball buddies) went in swinging, one of them Dokun we called him “Sir Doks” ran straight at the thug who was swinging a short thick stick like a battle axe over his head. When they met in the middle of the battle field, the two champions from either side, the chief thug swung his “battle-axe stick” for sir Doks’s head. Sir Doks bends down allowing the thug to swing and miss. As the blow passes over his head, He goes down and does like a sliding motion with his leg knocks the thugs feet out from under him, the thug crashes to the ground, Sir Doks pins down the arm the thug carried his weapon in and punches him in the face repeatedly as soon as the first thug was on the ground the rest of us descended on him and the other thugs.
The thug never got up conscious, like 30 kids descended on this guy kicking him stepping on him and beating him with belts, he struggled for a few seconds then pretends to be dead, then somebody was like “stop oh! I think we’ve killed him”, so we stopped beating him for a second, then they silly thug cracked his eyes open a bit to see what was happening, then one us saw his eye flutter and shouted “he’s not dead oh! See his eye!” then the beating continued. We just made a mess of this guy, other kids were fighting the other two thugs and some of the family members. The teachers had found some courage by now and had started flogging the chief and his family with their canes. One of the female teachers took the baby from one of the wives and others made the entire family lie down on the ground while they beat them with canes, this went on for a few minutes until the principal came with campus police, they arrested the chief and his family and they took two unconscious thugs and another very bloody thug to the hospital.
It was time for lunch by then and the rest of the students had come out of class and joined us, we were in a bit of a victory fueled frenzy and we were running around the school , doing victory laps screaming and singing about” how menacing we were”, we did a few victory lap round the school compound screaming , then we got to the other end of the school and we saw one of the female teachers standing beside a new looking AMG Mercedes Benz S63, she was pointing and shouting that it was the chief’s car and we should destroy it. So we took up stones and bottles formed a circle round it and really fucked that car up. This part I couldn’t participate in, I just looked on in horror as the car was destroyed it was really hard for me to watch such a sweet ride getting smashed to bits because I’m really into cars. Anyway after we had hailed it with bottles and rocks some kids started jumping on the roof, bonnet and boot of the car, all the windows were smashed and it was pretty messed up then security came and made us to stop, just as people started shouting for gas and a lighter so we could burn it. Then the teacher told us that they had brought two other cars a black Rolls Royce and a minivan, the minivan carried thugs presumably and the Rolls Royce was parked outside the school so we couldn’t get to it, however we found the van nearby and flipped it onto its side then security came before we could do any more damage to it. Soon after this they rang the school siren and called an emergency assembly where the principle thanked us for our service, for coming to the teachers rescue (little did he know, that it all started out as us wanting to watch an annoying teacher get beaten up by a student) He also tried to coach us on what to tell our parents. He told us that there was no riot (yeah right) that it was just a small altercation between teachers and thugs and we the students, just helped. After that we dispersed and went back to our classes we didn’t have any more lectures that day.
I was in 4th Grade, and had just moved to a new school.
The most popular kid in my class liked me, and we instantly became “best friends.” We hung out all the time, we played basketball all the time, we were into the same games, thought the same girls were cute, and his parents were rich and they spoiled us rotten.
I assume you’ve heard of some of the following concepts: points, lines, planes, space. These are the “Euclidean spaces” in 0 dimensions, 1 dimension, 2 dimensions, and 3 dimensions respectively. What does that mean?
Before I went to Costa Rica, a crazy Panamanian told me to find an Englishman there called John Chapman (literally the only clues he gave me). One day I was in a tiny beach town, Dominical, and I asked a man if he could give me a job. He was John Chapman.
The cornerstone of French politics is not liberty, it is equality. So if a few demand that the rest put up with their antics, whatever their reasons, they will get the cold shoulder. Do it in private where no one else has to put up with it. This by the way, also explains why the privacy laws in France are so strong: it’s the flip side of the strength of the power of the State in public space.
Tocqueville said that the French would rather be equal under tyranny than unequal in a free society, and he’s right. If not everyone can be free, then no one should be.
Hedge funds. These guys are basically the vehicles of choice for ultra-rich people to get into the financial markets, besides family offices and private wealth managers. What are hedge funds? They are funds that have a 1-5 million deposit minimum, cater to the mega-rich, and can invest in anything without regulatory restrictions, use leverage to pump up their exposure by 15x, and pretty much eat up a vast majority of the industry’s profits.
There is a test like that in at least one infantry leader training exercise in the U.S. military. Or at least, there used to be. Don’t know if it still exists. I participated in this at Ft. Stewart in Georgia. Maybe it was Ft. Benning, but I’m pretty sure it was Ft. Stewart. I’m trying to remember the name of the course, but I can’t. Part of it consists of ten scenarios. Most of them or all of them involve getting an infantry squad across one or more obstacles. This is not a computer simulation. The obstacles are physically present and your mission is to get a real infantry squad physically across the obstacles. Some of the obstacles include simulated booby traps and things like that. That’s the only part that’s fake.
No, neither Paul nor John could read standard music notation. That’s not as big of a deal as you think, since reading (or writing) music is simply ONE method of capturing the notes and rhythms of music. There are actually many different ways to notate music. For example, you can simply write down the names of the notes and chords in standard English if you like. Not being able to read musical notation does not prevent anyone from playing music, just like not being able to read books prevents people from having meaningful conversations.
Let’s imagine one guy on a spaceship heading towards a black hole - Mike - and his twin brother back on earth - Jim. A camera on board his space craft connecting the two is sending images back to his twin brother on earth through radio waves, as well as vice versa. On earth, Jim decodes these radio waves, reconstructs them on a screen, and follows what’s happening to his brother on board the ship.
Years ago, Charlie, a highly respected orthopedist and a mentor of mine, found a lump in his stomach. He had a surgeon explore the area, and the diagnosis was pancreatic cancer. This surgeon was one of the best in the country. He had even invented a new procedure for this exact cancer that could triple a patient’s five-year-survival odds—from 5 percent to 15 percent—albeit with a poor quality of life. Charlie was uninterested. He went home the next day, closed his practice, and never set foot in a hospital again. He focused on spending time with family and feeling as good as possible. Several months later, he died at home. He got no chemotherapy, radiation, or surgical treatment. Medicare didn’t spend much on him.