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And thus began the legend..The legend of the White Wolf of the WestIt is said that he began his tale 3,000 years ago…THUUUMMA bolt of lightning struck forth from the sky and decimated the once great hillside, turning it into a crater.An unfit boy stood unharmed within the epicenter of the crater.He pulled himself out of the hole, but not before grabbing a loose, sharp rock.Taking the rock and jamming it into his hand, the boy grinned through his pain. He pulled the rock out, and examined. His bloodied palm dripped momentarily, but it regenerated soon enough.“Oh thank God.” He whispered. “I was worrying that I was just ageless. Hopefully I've got both.”He stood at the edge of his crater and surveyed his new land. “Well then. Time to start learning how to survive.”He set off, but before he did he pulled out his phone- one of his final links to the future, his future anyway- and smiled. “Give me a few thousand years my precious. Soon enough I will have you.”He powered the phone off and would leave it that way for the next 500 years.During the first hundred, he honed his body into a living weapon. He'd survived on his own for fifty years, moving around, hunting, gathering, building houses. Writing down whatever he could remember.For the other fifty, he tried his hands at weapon making and fighting against the greatest animals he could. He hunted wolves, became their Alpha, he wrestled with bears and won.. and he's fought and killed any man foolish enough to anger him.With his hands.Certainly he's lost before, particularly against a rather large bear, but on the whole he's been unbeatable.So much so, that he's spawned a legend. The legend of the White Wolf, a man with skin like snow, who's only friends in this world are Wolves.Some even say, that he is a wolf made into a man.His eyes glint in the darkness with squares of pure light upon his face.In the next hundred years he spent his time as a sage, teaching the local chieftains of the abilities of water and introducing the idea that metal could be used in war. He did this as he made his way West until he signNowed the great coast.Then, the Wolf Sage was gone and the White Wolf of the West was reborn.He conquered the great chiefs of the West and taught them a new language which he called Jamish.Then, with his military behind him, he began a great offensive across the world“Great offensive? What's that?” A child, a boy of about six, interrupted sounding confused.The storyteller smiled, he'd forgotten that the boy had never known war, none of them had for the last few hundred years thanks to The Wolf King.“Ah my child, it is an old saying. Older than you or I, it means a great War.”The children bowed their heads at the word, having been taught to do so out of respect for the dead.“Now then where was I…”Ah yes, his great military marched along the country he called America. First the West fell, and the White Wolf gained his name.The White Wolf of the West.His army was smart, and marched fast in the summer, settled in the fall and waited through winter until spring.And they were smart enough to build a road that connected all lands they controlled. So that those behind them could bring food for those in front.Additionally, The White Wolf of the West was not always violent. Many times he would meet with local Chieftains and convince them to join in his Empire.The smartest would accept. The most foolish resisted.The White Wolf crushed his opponents beneath his feet for centuries, until he had conquered all of what we know as Westland, its northern and its southern regions all connected by one major road all of which led back to the center of Westland.Where the first city: Jamesland was built.From his seat of power the White would rule as the God he was. He took no wives, only concubines, and waited for the day his wife could be brought from Heaven.As he waited however, he was not still. He taught us of oil and gunpowder and guns! He showed us how to tame Bison for use in meat production. He had us colonize the far north and south! The Aztecs and Mayans, great as they were, were no match for him! Then peace came.We flourished for a good 500 years longer. Building roads, and cities, and learning new things!And our White Wolf entertained us with stories. The Man of Bats, The Iron and The Titan, The Men of Golden Hair, and The Man of Steel were just a few stories he told us.And he told us the ancient tale of his wife, a tragedy of two lovers unable to signNow each other.He was a good king.Then, other pale men came. These were not Gods like the White Wolf was, they could killed. They were men! Coming From where we know as Monarchis, the men served a vile queen, and were sent back with a message: surrender or die.She ignored the warning and others were sent. The White Wolf defended the West and went on the Second Offensive. He and his men invaded Monarchis and held it.For hundreds more years The White Wolf invaded and conquered new lands.What we know as Krau, Rome, Commudeath, and Walland took hundreds of years, but with an immortal God leading us we never tired! The fools against our Wolf did. And they paid the price for their arrogance.The entire continent of Affrika was conquered quickly as he merely had to use the same tactics he used against Westland, it was faster thanks to superior technology However.Eventually he signNowed the edge of the world, a place he called Japan.The Wolf did not conquer it, and it remains as our only trading partner to this day.Aside from there, our Wolf sailed across the world! And eventually found what he calls Deathland. A small island continent.Rather than invade, he used that place as a prison, citing it as being “Like Hell". Twas a place not even The White Wolfe liked.Some thought to challenge his authority on this fact, saying that no God would fear a place.In response The White Wolf walked across the continent, west to east. It took him three days, and only because he stopped to kill some wildlife along the way.Truly he was The White Wolf of The West.He would rule the world for another thousand years, helping it completely peaceful and teaching it about many things.He insisted on things such as Equality, Women's Rights, and the legalization and normalization of Homosexuality.Free thought was encouraged, and we rapidly entered an Industrial Revolution.“Which leads us to today, in the year 2000.We know everything about our oceans. We are more free today than ever. War is nonexistent. Space is truly the final frontier.” The old man smiled. “Qnd who do we owe that too?” He asked the class.Everyone at once replied. “The White Wolf of The West, our God-Emporer James Alexander Walker.”He smiled again and stood again. “Come now then children. Today is the day our Emporer is to introduce our God-Empress.”It had taken years, thousands even, but he finally was ready to build her a body and bring her from Heaven.After today he could finally rest and smile on a thankful world. All that was left for him to do was bring his equally immortal wife.And, in a few Thousand years, Mankind will expand across the stars and The White Wolf would begin a new offensive.Mankind would one day rule the universe.But for now…Now was the time for rest.

The question is asked in the context of a current Trump supporter delusion that the Steele dossier has been discredited. Who says that beside Trump and his followers? Who objectively investigated the Steele dossier and ruled it discredited? No one.It is also asked in the context of a total misunderstanding of the dossier is. It was a collection of raw intelligence reports of things Steele’s Russian contacts told him. It was not a fantasy by a “Trump hater” but the work a widely-respected former British intelligence officer and the head of the MI-6 Russia Desk.Steele himself tried to verify what he could, and was the first one in his own reports to say what could and what could not be verified. The FBI was able to verify some things and not others. That is the nature of raw intelligence. The FBI know how to deal with that kind of information.So far, I know of one thing in the Steele Dossier proven false, Cohen’s trip to Prague. There are possibly others. Raw intelligence has to be verified. Steele knew that. The FBI knew that. Trump followers don’t understand that.This is a good article on the dossier from legal viewpoint.The Steele Dossier: A Retrospective

A bipolar person, treated or not, isn’t any more likely to be paranoid than anyone else who’s otherwise healthy. They’ll go like greased lightning in the manic phase, then they’re not able to get out of bed in the depressive phase - but (assuming that they have the energy to think in the depressive phase) their ability to analyze facts isn’t compromised. (My apologies to the afflicted if I’m misusing terms - I’m using the ones taught me by a sufferer many years ago.)They’re also no more likely to “falsely accuse” you of things like that that anyone else. “BPD” and “schizoid paranoia” are about as similar as a pigeon and a bicycle.Someone with schizoid paranoia is likely to accuse you of all sorts of things (including thinking them to death and other far-out stuff like that - they’re the ones with the tinfoil windows), but if they’re treated they realize that their delusions were delusions.

This is misrepresentation, and in my opinion would constitute a bsignNow of contract. However… it is either one of two things - they are either a startup that has been struggling to get work and needed that push, or that they are terrible at whatever it is they are doing, and need to lie about the client list. I think you should:signNow out to a couple of the other companies on the list, and find out if they used to be a client, and if they no longer are, why they moved to a different companyTell this company that you are aware that their client list is not accurate, and depending on what the result of 1) was, either terminate, or say you are prepared to give them a chance - because if their work is up to scratch then you have no need to have to go through the whole recontracting process. If you feel that the rate you are paying for this work is inflated based on their incorrect client list then it is worth renegotiating terms. Don’t take advantage of them though, make sure what you are offering is fair.If this company turns out to be really good, then you have a double win - good work at a cheap price. Just don’t be too hasty, don’t use inflammatory language like calling them liars, and give them the benefit of the doubt until it is proven they suck.

When I first moved to Pullman, Washington for my postdoctoral position in 1992, I needed a car. I bought a 1981 two-door Chevy Chevette. I didn't know it at first, but according to my mechanic it had “Frankenstein’s Monster’s Revenge” under the hood instead of the stock motor.What’s ironic (in a good way) was that the engine ran remarkably well the entire time I owned the Chevette (3 years—gave it to someone while it was still running perfectly when I got a new car).I was referred by a relative to a mechanic who lived in the tiny town of Albion, WA, and brought in the car to have its radiator repaired due to a leak.He opened the hood and stared with this dumbfounded look on his face.Mechanic: “What the heck is this?”I went over and saw he was staring at the engine with a definite astonished and confused look on his face. His eyes looked like they were almost bugging out of his head.“I’ve never seen anything like it in my entire career.”Me “What’s the problem with the car? It seems to run perfectly fine except for the radiator leak.”Mechanic: “That's just it, you shouldn't have been able start it much less drive it. Somebody's managed to do the impossible.” He was really fascinated and examined some resin-like material between the head and block of the engine.“It runs very nicely. Why should it be impossible for it to work?” I was wondering if he was pulling my leg, but he was quite fascinated and couldn't stop staring at the engine. I have to admit I was suddenly quite worried about it myself because it all of a sudden looked ‘wrong’ to me as it sunk in that the head didn’t seem aligned with the block correctly due to displaced bolt holes, etc.“Who’d you buy this from? Dr. Frankenstein?” His eyebrows were knit in confusion. “Could you start the car? I want to see this so I can believe what I'm seeing here.”I got in the car, put in the clutch and started it.“Damn! It's really running, and sounds perfectly normal. I'm amazed, and now I've seen it all.” He actually slapped his forehead, knocking his hat off onto the floor behind him and didn't even try to pick it up. I got it for him later.I got out of the idling car and joined him. “What's so amazing about the car?”“Here's the thing. You have only the bottom half of the engine of a 1981 Chevette, the block. See all of these empty bolt holes and overlapping and underlapping metal where the head is attached? How there's supposed to be a lot more bolts holding the head to the block and a gasket between them, but only two have any bolts? And how this resin you see instead of a head gasket, that has to be some sort of high temperature polymer adhesive?” He pointed to each item as he mentioned it, sticking his pencil into an unoccupied bolt hole with nothing but air below it to emphasize how peculiar the configuration was. I was getting more nervous by the second, wondering if I were driving a ticking timebomb with a motor that could explosively fly apart any time.“I still don't see the problem?” I could see how the head and block didn't quite match, but the engine seemed perfectly fine to me, not even oily from any leaks—at least not yet.“Somebody actually glued the head from either a 1979 or 1980 (some totally different kind of car) to the block of your ’81 Chevette. Aside from being 4-cylinder with what must have been the same bore size, this head is from a different type of engine, with different bolt patterns and overall shape. Managed to perfectly align the cylinders somehow. Definitely Dr. Frankenstein’s work here.”*********************************************************************************************EDIT: I was informed that the engines were virtually the same between 1979 through 1981 for Chevettes . The head was obviously quite different, and the 1979 or 1980 head he was talking about could have been for another model or even make such as Pontiac, or something way out there like a small Ford. All I know is the mechanic was astonished the engine ran and the head was so different than the block the only way to secure it was with the glue because the bolt holes were so differently positioned and trying to fit a normal head gasket would have been impossible. I thought about it and corrected what he said as I remembered a little bit moreMy memory is 24 years old here, so a few details might be off. The Dr. Frankenstein comments were as I remembered them—as was the nickname he gave the vivisectioned engine.*********************************************************************************************“What sort of engine do I have now? Will it work for the long term?” I was terrified I’d have to replace the engine soon, and might possibly not even be able to drive it home.“Sounds great, so it will probably run perfectly fine for years, but as for the kind of motor you now have, I guess I'd have to call it the Frankenstein’s Monster’s Revenge engine.”After this and a bunch of other assurances that the adhesive and configuration were stable, I felt confident enough to drive it home to my place when he finished fixing the radiator and I paid him.He offered to take $25 per hour as long as I kept bringing the car back for him to work on—just so he could see the engine again.He actually thanked me each time I brought the car in from then on.There was one time the engine gave me trouble.When driving home from Seattle to Pullman after a professor interview trip to New Jersey, summer of 1993 on I-90, in the middle of nowhere, the timing belt and several other parts literally fell off the engine while I coasted about a mile after the engine abruptly lost all power. I had it towed to and fixed in Moses Lake. Mechanics at the Chevy dealership seemed blasé about the engine—never asked to speak to me directly—got the timing belt and pulley system replaced, and sent me on my way very quickly. How So quickly? One of my mother’s friends who just happened to live there and recognized me, knew the head shop mechanic and helped me get on my way the next day—otherwise it would have been a three or more days wait. Very few troubles after that.About a year after I moved away first to California (replaced my exhaust system while living there, and after the guys got a good look at my engine {same amazed looks as my Albion mechanic} they gave me a chrome exhaust system for free—I really felt odd at first driving an ordinary Chevette with silvery exhaust system hardware, but I liked it and the car ran really quietly from then on), then southern Idaho for my professor job, I decided to drive 450 miles north from Twin Falls, Idaho to visit some relatives in Clarkeston, WA and a different friend in Albion in addition to the mechanic.I needed an oil change and something else a bit more important repaired (sorry, I forgot what it was) and stopped by the shop. My old mechanic was so happy to see the car again with Frankenstein’s Monster’s Revenge, the vivisectioned hybrid engine, I only had to pay for the oil and oil filter. We also had a good laugh together when he saw all of the new chrome hardware from the exhaust manifold to the tailpipe, especially the absurd mirror-bright polished muffler.I put about 15,000 miles on the Chevette with its bizarre engine before giving it to someone in my church who needed a car. This same man drove it to and from California several times as he moved his stuff out of Twin Falls.EDIT: after reading the other answers to this question and seeing how many mechanics or ‘technicians’ were dishonest slimeballs or totally clueless, I'm pleased to say that my Albion mechanic (I think his name was Dave—maybe) was both competent and honest. Thanks everyone for the upvotes.What my Albion mechanic decided to name my Chevette engine was the craziest thing a mechanic has ever said to me.

In 1975 I was assigned to the 1/19th Infantry Battalion, 25th Infantry Division at Schofield Barracks, HI. Although I was an Infantryman (11B MOS) I was detached from my line unit to Battalion HQ as I had another Secondary MOS in Administration (71L).Under Army Regulations, when someone left for a Leave it was necessary to sign out on the approved Leave form prior to departure. On weekends or other after duty times the forms were sent to the Battalion HQ where the NCO assigned as Charge-of-Quarters managed the sign-out process.One young Private reported to HQ to sign out but the CQ did not find his approved leave in the file. This was not entirely unusual and, as the CQ knew that a leave had been approved by the young man’s Unit Commander, he let him go saying they’d take care of the paperwork when he returned from leave. Tragically he died in an accident while on leave.As one of my regular tasks at Battalion included preparing the Duty Status Report, and as it was especially necessary in this case before the soldier’s family was notified of the death - and before they received Death Benefits - I noted his status as “Present for Duty to Approved Leave to Deceased” and sent this to the soldier’s Company Commander for his signature. While waiting for the form to be signed and returned I also began preparations for the letter that was going to be signed by the Battalion Commander and sent to his family.Instead of signing the form the Company Commander came to Battalion and informed me that this man did not have an approved leave because he did not sign out as required. He further told me that though the man had requested the leave he, as the CO, never approved it. Accordingly, he instructed me to change my status report to “Present for Duty to AWOL to Deceased” which would have resulted in the soldier’s family receiving nothing and being informed that their son was in violation of Army Regulations at the time of his death. I was totally shocked as I knew this was untrue, and I informed the Captain of that fact and that I refused to change my Report.In anger, the Captain ordered me to accompany him to the Battalion Commander’s office to answer for my “insubordination” and face whatever penalty the Colonel deemed appropriate. I did so and explained to the Colonel what had actually happened, that the man’s First Sergeant would verify that the Leave had in fact been approved by the Captain, and that the man’s name was still on the Company HQ’s Duty Status Board noting that he was on Leave, something the 1SG would not had done unless he had personally seen the approved form. The Colonel seemed to side with me and I was dismissed to continue preparing my report and the notification letter. At the same time the 1SG looked into the Company Commander’s waste basket - and found the leave form, signed by him, and then crumpled up and thrown out. He brought the form to Battalion and gave this to the Colonel. While he and I waited outside the office we could hear the Colonel speaking to the Captain in anger but, after a while, he came out of his office, looked at us, and then stated that while the form had in fact been approved the young man still violated regulations by leaving without signing out as required. I was then ordered - again - to change my report noting that this Private died while AWOL.Now I was the angry one and, although just a Junior NCO (3-striper at the time), I gave the Colonel a “one finger salute” and went back to my office and slammed the door, ignoring the Colonel’s order to stop.When the Colonel - and most of his Battalion Officers - came into my office I was ready for them, although I thought I could still end up in Leavenworth. Before the Colonel could say a word I laid out on my desk a stack of Leave Forms that, since I was responsible for Duty Status Reports, had been sent to me for filing. As I went through them I sorted out a number that had not been “properly” handled.“This form is for the Commander of Company C. He is currently on Leave but has not signed out as required by Regulations. I will prepare the AWOL Report on him, Sir. This one is for the First Sergeant of the Combat Support Company. He is currently on leave also but has not signed out. I will report him as AWOL, Sir, as required.” Altogether I found perhaps a dozen others that were technically AWOL to include one of the Colonel’s Staff Officers.The Colonel looked at me, realized how serious I was, and then turned to his officers and said, “How did you people let me get into this mess?” He then turned to me and said, “Sergeant Keith, prepare your report and the letter, noting that this young man was on approved leave at the time of his death.” I responded by saying, “Yes, Sir. Already done.” He then ordered the Captain to return to his office with him where, I expect, the Captain was reamed a new one.A few months later the Colonel - a Lieutenant Colonel actually - was promoted to Full Colonel and reassigned to Division HQ. When I had occasion to go to Division HQ I tried to avoid running into him as I still thought I was on the sh-t list with him but one day I did run into him and he told me to come into his office and close the door. This is what he said: “Sergeant Keith, although you might have handled that situation better, you were right and I was wrong. I apologize.”My respect for this man has never left me to this day.

I sold cars at a Toyota dealership in Coeur d’Alene Idaho. It wasn't a dealership where salesmen swarmed you. It had what's known as an "Up" system. There is a board with all of the salespeople names on it. A little marker next to your name meant it was your turn. If a customer came, it was your customer.If you're not aware, Coeur d'Alene is in Northern Idaho. Right next door to Hayden Lake, Idaho. Very very racist area back in the day. It's not as bad now, but there still are vestiges of racism. Especially against Indigenous Native Americans.My very first day at this dealership was actuall...

This story is nothing as good as the others posted here but here it is. My father was a carpenter and cabinetmaker. He built our house and all the furniture in it. It was his joy. But in addition to being a carpenter he was also something of an asshole and a strict and often violent father. As a result I grew up to despise and hate him. My brothers and I were often called to help him on a job - which we had to do for free. One entire summer we worked framing a house from May until September, for which we were paid a grand total of 100 dollars. So I swore that when I grew up I would never, e...

I am really sorry that you and your family have to go through this. I feel your pain. My mom died three years ago around this time. Mostly I regret that I didn't make her happy. I regret that when I stayed at the hospital, I got really tired and wished that she would die. It was for a second. I have never told anyone and have never even said it out loud. She died few days later. I didn't mean it.I was just really tired. I know how horrid this sounds. I would like to think that if we had to do it again, I wouldn't think that. I wish I spent more time with her. I wish I knew what her dream was when she was young. I wish I had asked her if she got anything out of life that she could say was worth it. I just really wish I had spent more time with her. I always go back and think of the time I told her I loved her. I am happy I did that quite often. In her last days I told her that She was a great mom and if it wasn't for her I probably wouldn't have made it as far as I did. I think all you can do is spend more time with her. If you were ever angry with her forgive her and if she was ever hurt by you apologise to her. Tell her that you are proud of her as a mother. I often regret not hugging my mom enough. Few days before she passed she said to me 'you never called me mom'. I called her by her name because as a child they had trained me to call my grandma mom. Its the little things that hurt most and could have made the difference. Most of all don't punish yourself. You will be tired. And sometimes its easy to treat sick people like they are not who they used to be. So remember even if she is feeble and sick, she is still that woman that raised you. Be patient with her. And if you have to cry , its ok. My mom cried when she saw me after I got a call saying that she was getting weaker. I thought I would smile instead to make her feel that it wasn't as bad. Now I wish I cried with her. Take pictures when you can. My mom once asked me to sing for her in one of those long nights at the hospital even though growing up she hated my voice because I had the habit of putting on headphones and screaming for the world to hear like most teenagers do. But this time I held her and we sang together. Its those little things that bring me comfort.I believe in God. I had to keep it together at all times because you know I had to be strong. I am told that by everyone who came to visit to be strong. But when I kneeled before God that was the place to let go and be broken for me. I hope you have a place like that so you can cry when you have to. You said you won't cry and you would be strong. But its ok to cry and its ok not to feel strong at least not always.I hope that my English made sense and you got my story. This were the things I wished I had done when she was still here and some of which I am glad I had done. I know you will have your own wishes and things you would like to do with your mom. She is still here so don't spend your days afraid of what is going to be. Don't despair my friend. She is still here. Focus on that. I wish I can say more or do more for you but know that you are in my prayers. I mean that.