JohnWoerz

Have nine lives. Free your mind from the prison of two sides. Parody. Repost are not endorsements. I show you things.

[Catturd ™ @catturd2]

😂😂😂

Straight and to the point.

[NASA JPL @NASAJPL]

Mars in motion! ⏩

While on its way to explore a mysterious, metal-rich asteroid, our Psyche spacecraft sped by Mars for a gravity assist to pick up speed and adjust its trajectory. As it approached the planet, it captured this series of high-res snaps.

[Liberty_Sean @Liberty_Sean321]

This is literally fucking Communism

[Islamicat 💣😾🕌 💥 @_Islamicat]

This thread mandatory readings for all followerses of Islamicat

[JohnWoerz @JohnPollux2792]

@SunWeatherMan @YouTube @EthicalSkeptic @Kitsune_in_VA @zachariaspro @HashZappa @JasonWilde108 @EcdoPrep @junhoBTC @OMApproach @stephXskystory I recently rewatched this film from the early 1980's. This time through 'Observer Eye's', which I acquired from following your account for a few years. Prejudiced or not, these concepts intuitively haunt me.
https://t.co/G62RdI8KVI

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

On the last night of October, children came to my door and demanded tribute.

They were armed. One was a small skeleton. One was a hot dog.

"Trick or treat."

A threat, delivered politely, with the bag already open. I have negotiated with warlords who were less direct.

I paid. I paid generously, because a house that pays poorly on the first raid invites a second.

They came back anyway.

Not the same ones. Different children. Word had moved.

By eight o'clock my candy was gone and the line was not.

A boy dressed as a bank robber looked into my empty bowl.

"That's okay," he said.

It was not okay.

I gave him a granola bar. He accepted it with the dignity of a man accepting a lesser sword.

Then I gave out fruit. Then juice boxes. Then, and I wish to be honest with you, a can of soup.

At nine, a girl received from me one unopened package of instant rice.

She turned it over twice. She looked up at me. Then she put it in her bag with the candy, because she is nine, and she has been raised not to embarrass a grown man in his own doorway.

Her father was standing at the end of my path. He looked into her bag. He looked at me.

"Long night?"

"I have failed," I said.

He said, "Nah, man. You're the only house still open."

Then he nodded once and walked his daughter home.

I have bought four hundred pieces of candy for next year.

They are in a locked cabinet. I have the key. There is one key.

I have also bought a second bowl, a folding table, and a headlamp, and I have scheduled a resupply run for eight fifteen, which is the hour I fell.

I have run one rehearsal. My wife agreed to participate. She rang the doorbell forty times.

I did not fail the rehearsal.

My wife says I have a problem.

I have told her the truth, which is that I will not be taken by a hot dog twice.

We are both correct.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

It was one hundred and eighteen degrees in Arizona and a man told me it was a dry heat.

I asked him what the wet number would be.

He laughed. He was not being unkind. He simply had no answer, because there is no wet version of this. This is the number.

I touched my steering wheel and I made a sound I have never made before. It was not a word. My ancestors did not have this sound.

Then the seatbelt buckle branded me.

Nobody warned me about the buckle. Everyone here already knows about the buckle. I have the mark. It is shaped like a seatbelt buckle. I have decided to keep it.

I went back into the store.

"You need one of these," the woman said, handing me a folding silver screen.

I bought it. I bowed. She said, "Yep."

The next day I bought four more.

My car is now entirely silver inside. It looks like a spacecraft that has given up.

A dog walked past me wearing shoes. Little shoes.

The dog had solved this. I had not.

So I began parking two blocks away, in shade, and walking, in one hundred and eighteen degrees, in order to avoid the heat.

I explained this system to my neighbor.

He said, "Yeah, that tracks."

I now own oven mitts that live in the car. I drive in oven mitts. I am aware of how this appears.

My neighbor came over and looked inside my car. Five sunshades. Three pairs of mitts. A towel on the buckle. A cooler whose only job is to keep a second cooler cold.

He looked at it for a long time.

Then he nodded once and said, "Oh. You're one of us now."

I am one of them now.

I stand near the cars in the lot and I say one word to tourists.

Buckle.

They lock their doors. That is acceptable. They will learn it the way I learned it.

I have started telling tourists it is a dry heat.

They ask me what the wet number would be.

I laugh. I am not being unkind.

There is simply no answer.

[JohnWoerz @JohnPollux2792]

@japan_nobunaga

[JohnWoerz @JohnPollux2792]

@Joeinblack 93% peaceful.

[Open Source Intel @Osint613]

China lands and recovers a reusable orbital-class booster at sea for the first time.

[Planet Of Memes @PlanetOfMemes]

The difference between women and men. @JMilei

[cats with jobs 🛠 @CatWorkers]

Helping to deliver the parcels.

[SpaceWeatherNews @SunWeatherMan]

The sun casually ejecting a moon worth of plasma today.

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

Stateside, I bought a container sworn to repel all nocturnal thieves. "Locking lid. Pest-proof." A bin forged by a corporation. I trusted its oath.

That night the lid opened. A small sound. Almost polite.

The masked one sat inside my unbreakable bin, holding a chicken bone the way a scholar holds a brush. He looked at me. He kept eating. He did not run.

I bowed. "I accept your challenge."

My neighbor was watering her plants. "Oh, those guys are the worst. Just bungee cord the lid, hon."

A secret art, passed over the fence. The Way of the Cord. I thanked her three times. She had already gone inside.

I cinched the lid with two cords and felt strong. He returned at midnight, studied them, and peeled them off like a man removing his gloves. I swear he nodded.

He was the size of a melon and I was afraid of a melon.

So I escalated. One brick. He moved it. Two bricks. He moved both, ate, and left one paw print on the lid like a seal on a letter. A formal reply.

Morning. My neighbor leaned over the fence. "You know they can open jars, right?"

I did not know that. I told no one I did not know that.

That night I sat on my porch, ready to honor my rival. He looked at the bricks. He looked at me sitting in the dark like a fool.

He walked past my bin and climbed my neighbor's instead.

She opened her door and sighed. "Yeah, he does that. He's got a route."

A route. I was not his rival. I was a stop on it.

I felt almost dignified.

Then I left an egg by the bin anyway. A guest is a guest, even one who arrives by the trash. I still check the lid at midnight, in case the masked one returns with better manners.

[Loay Alshareef لؤي الشريف @lalshareef]

🚨When peace between Israel and Lebanon is realized, the opportunities that follow could transform the face of the Middle East. I mentioned some of them here.

And do not forget: many people never imagined peace between the UAE and Israel either, yet it happened.

Inshallah, it will happen with Lebanon too.

[JohnWoerz @JohnPollux2792]

@FatherChrisVor1 😸 Just kidding. I'd be interested reading your articles.
https://t.co/GCVRBn8oQm

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

My father cried.
I had never seen it. Not once in my life.

70 years old. Post-war generation. He hated America with everything he had.

60 years. Not one kind word. Not one.

Then March 2011 came.
He sat in front of the TV. Every day. Silent. Fists on his knees.

Your Marines digging black mud with their bare hands for Japanese strangers.

Your 19-year-old sailors sleeping on cold steel floors so our grandmothers could have beds.

Your carrier sailing INTO the radiation while the whole world ran out.

He watched all of it. And said nothing.

Then one night I passed his room and I froze.

Behind that door, my father, the strongest and most stubborn man I ever knew, was sobbing like a child.

I couldn't move. I just stood there in the dark hallway, listening, crying with him.

Then he said it. One sentence. It tore 60 years apart:

"I was wrong about them."

Do you understand what that took?

A lifetime of hatred. Gone.
Destroyed by soldiers carrying soup to strangers.

America, you didn't just save our towns.

You reached inside my father's chest and healed a wound he swore would never close.

He passed away believing in you.

Happy 250th. 🇺🇸🇯🇵
An old man who hated you died loving you. My father.

[International Space Station @Space_Station]

The International Space Station orbited over Los Angeles on July 4th as America marked 250 years of independence with a burst of fireworks lighting up the city below — a celebration so bright it reached all the way to space!

[NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 @japan_nobunaga]

SPOTLESS.

June 14. Dallas Stadium, Texas.

Japan fought the Netherlands to a 2-2 draw in front of your crowd. Thousands of Japanese fans screamed, cried, celebrated.

Then the whistle blew.

And instead of walking out, they pulled out blue trash bags.

Hundreds of them. Row by row. Cups, wrappers, everything. They cleaned YOUR stadium like it was their grandmother's house.

The players did the same. The Japan locker room was returned without a single thing out of place.

Nobody asked them to.

FIFA's cameras couldn't look away. Millions of views. Americans in the stands just watching, stunned.

Then came June 29. Houston.

Japan lost to Brazil. Dreams over. Grown men crying in blue shirts.

And they STILL cleaned the stadium.

Some coward even reversed the video and posted 「Japan fans DESTROY stadium」. You know who shot it down within days? AMERICAN fact-checkers. Your own people stood up and defended us.

Here is what I want you to understand, America.

Those fans crossed an ocean to your country. Texas heat. Brutal loss. And their only thought at the final whistle was, leave America's stadium more beautiful than we found it.

Because this is YOUR World Cup. YOUR home. And you welcomed us like family.

The scoreboard changed every match.

The trash bags never did.