genuinely no one irl acts like the people on here so every single time I go interact with the outside world it’s a relief that people aren’t this negative & emotionally stunted all of the time
The New York Times reports today that Iran has reached advanced stages of planning attacks against Americans in Saudi Arabia / the Middle East.
WWE ‘Crown Jewel’ is still currently scheduled to emanate from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia in two weeks.
(@nytimes)
I hate the clocks going backwards and forwards. When I was young, we didn’t even have clocks. If we got hungry, we ate each other. We were poor, but we were happy. Good times. Not that we had time. It hadn’t been invented. We had to make our own time out of string and cholera.
Tb to when my htn 6’3 friend told me “getting girls is easy bro” and I asked him how he started conversations and he replied “idk they talk to me first”
In 1941, a Spaniard walked into the British embassy in Madrid and offered to spy on the Nazis.
The British turned him down.
So he went to the Germans instead, pretended to be a loyal fascist, and got hired as a German spy. His plan was to lie to them for the rest of the war.
It worked better than anyone could have imagined.
His name was Juan Pujol García. Before the war he had tried his hand at running a chicken farm and a movie theater. He had no spy training. What he had was a deep hatred of both fascism and communism after the Spanish Civil War, and an incredible imagination.
The Germans gave him a codename, invisible ink, money, and orders to go to Britain and recruit spies.
He didn't go to Britain.
He went to Lisbon, Portugal, and made everything up.
Using a tourist guidebook, maps, magazines, newsreels, and a British railway timetable from the library, he wrote long, detailed reports about life in England. Military movements. Morale. Ports.
He'd never been there. He made mistakes. He didn't understand British money. He once reported that dockworkers in Glasgow would do anything for a liter of wine.
The Germans loved him anyway.
Then British codebreakers reading German messages noticed something strange. The Germans were hunting for a convoy that didn't exist, based on a report from some agent in Britain they'd never heard of.
The British went looking for this mystery spy. They found Pujol. In 1942 they finally took him on and brought him to London.
Now he had real help. MI5 gave him the codename Garbo, after the actress, because they thought he was the greatest actor in the world.
Together with his British handler, Pujol built a fake spy network for the Germans. It eventually had 27 imaginary agents. Each had a name, a personality, a job, and a backstory. A Welsh nationalist. A Venezuelan student. A Greek sailor. Some of them recruited their own imaginary sub-agents.
When they needed to explain why one agent had gone quiet, they killed him off. They even put a fake obituary in a Liverpool newspaper. The Germans reportedly paid a pension to his widow.
Who also didn't exist.
Then came D-Day.
Hours before the landings, the British let Pujol send a message warning the Germans that the invasion was coming in Normandy. It was timed so it would arrive too late to matter, but it made him look brilliant.
Three days later he sent the most important message of his career. Normandy was a trick, he said. The real invasion was still coming, at Calais, led by a huge army under General Patton.
That army was fake too. But the Germans believed him.
German forces that could have been rushed to Normandy were held back near Calais for weeks, waiting for an attack that never came.
The Germans were so grateful they awarded him the Iron Cross.
A few months later, King George VI made him a Member of the Order of the British Empire.
He's one of the only people known to have been decorated by both sides of the war.
After the war, afraid of revenge from surviving Nazis, he faked his own death from malaria in Africa and disappeared to Venezuela, where he lived quietly running a shop.
For decades the world thought he was dead.
In 1984, a British writer tracked him down. Pujol came back to Normandy for the 40th anniversary of D-Day and met veterans who had landed on the beaches.
Some of them thanked him.
It’s really funny that this is supposed to be a man who just walked out of the mid 20th Century. Okay yeah, they had long hair and beards in the 60s but no one with that hair in the 60s would wear a black bomber jacket over a black tshirt. What is any of this?
Clavicular says he can’t enjoy normal life because he sees past the lies that low-sentience people believe in.
When asked what people don’t understand about him:
"I don't think anyone will ever really understand me. I don’t really like to get that deep with people. Never have, probably never will."
When asked why he feels disconnected from everyone else:
"I feel like I'm able to see past the facades and lies so easily that nothing can be fun. I can’t enjoy things the way low sentience people can, like sports."
🚨🚨| NEW: The Premier League have enlisted Sir James Eadie KC, the UK Government's 𝐆𝐎-𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, in their legal battle against Manchester City. ⚖️🏴
Known as the 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋, Eadie has made more Supreme Court appearances in the last decade than ANY other barrister.
Second on that list? Manchester City's own lawyer, Lord Pannick. 👀
[@TheLawyermag]