@Soaringeagle45 Ya know that the port is just a plug outlet and not a hole leading to a tank like under the gas cap on your gas car. Impossible to pour anything down it. Just sayin'.
**No, it's not true.**
The specific story of a 16-year-old building/selling a $899 Starlink beacon positioning gadget for $300k profit (and SpaceX trying to shut it down) has zero evidence anywhere. The attached video is unrelated WiFi deauther/hacking hardware.
Real context:
- Researchers *have* explored using Starlink's actual downlink signals (tones/OFDM) for Doppler-based positioning as a GPS backup. Academic papers show meter-level results are theoretically possible with good processing.
- Hobbyists can receive basic Starlink beacons with cheap RTL-SDR + Ku LNB setups and see Doppler shifts.
- But turning that into a reliable, portable, OLED-display product you just "prompt Claude" to code and then sell commercially? Not doable as described. The signal processing, calibration, satellite tracking, and accuracy claims are heavily oversimplified.
It's viral hype mixing real PNT research with fiction.
I just want to know why there is still zero accountability for the bafoons who built 35 of these aluminum junk ships!?
Why did we decommission our minesweepers when this LCS crap isn’t ready??
Why are we still naming a ship after Obama’s SECNAV who authorized it?
Why is a ship specifically designed to fight Iran useless against Iran?
If it can’t fight a nation with no navy, how the hell can it possibly fight China?
Why does the USNA LCS page still have this photo of it shooting a missile when that capability was removed?
Why did it take TWENTY years after the first was built to get a mine-hunting package aboard?
Why aren’t these flooding the Strait of Hormuz right now?
Why are we STILL building these junks while also decommissioning them because they suck?
Why haven’t we taken every single one offshore and sunk them?
Why does every Admiral I talk to lie to me and claim they work great?
If they work so great why aren’t they flooding Hormuz right now??
Why hasn’t a single person been fired yet??
Why doesn’t this administration care about accountability?
WE WANT ACCOUNTABILITY @SecWar
This. I just replaced mine with a generic part and spliced the connecting wires to the old one instead of using the 'special' oven connectors. 20 minutes. Probably take 10 next time. $20.
@Cocoader@MichaelGrahamSC I have the same oven, and have done just that 3 times now, as well as the touchpad. Not sure what this guy, and his repair man’s issue is but this is bs.
@DannerFoundati1@SoldiersWhisper Applied to medical school after training medics in the Army. Some guys w 2,3 tours. Most refused to carry a weapon and many were COs. During an interview at the medical school, the woman asking me questions said "Oh, you were one of those baby killers." I didn't get in. No myth.
@3lectricBrawl Depends on daily mileage. In my 8th year of Teslas. Always used 20A 110 line unless on the road. Only half a dozen times did I have to go out before a trip or first thing when on the road top charge up. Usually made the charge stop a breakfast break.
She was called "Hey, you" by her own husband. Never by her name. Never once.
Her name was Bryna.
She crossed an ocean with nothing — no education, no English, no guarantee of anything — just a ticket bought by a man named Herschel who had promised her a better life in America. They settled in Amsterdam, New York, a working-class mill town far from the dreams she had carried on that ship.
The better life never came.
Herschel collected rags and scraps for a living. What little he earned disappeared into alcohol and card games. He was cold, rough, and careless — the kind of man who raises his voice and never raises his children. Bryna raised them herself. Six daughters and a son, in a house where hunger was a regular visitor.
She couldn't read or write. She took in laundry. She scrubbed floors. And when even that wasn't enough, she walked to the Jewish butcher with a quiet, dignified request:
"The bones you don't need — may I have them?"
She'd take those discarded bones home and boil them for hours. That thin soup fed her family for days.
Her youngest son, Issur — everyone called him Izzy — watched all of this. He watched his mother fight for them with everything she had and nothing in her hands.
And somehow, impossibly, he told her he wanted to be an actor.
She didn't laugh. She didn't tell him to be practical. She looked at this poor ragman's boy from a town nobody had heard of, and she believed him.
Izzy left. He struggled. He clawed his way forward. And eventually, the world came to know him as Kirk Douglas — one of Hollywood's greatest stars. Spartacus. Paths of Glory. Lust for Life. A legend.
But he never forgot the soup made from bones. He never forgot the woman who made it.
When Kirk formed his own film production company, he didn't name it after himself. He named it Bryna Productions — after her.
In 1958, Bryna Productions released The Vikings, one of the biggest films of the year. And Kirk had something he needed to show his mother.
He took her to Times Square.
Among all those lights, all that noise, all that impossible American spectacle — he stopped in front of a massive billboard and pointed.
BRYNA PRESENTS THE VIKINGS.
Her name. Enormous. Illuminated. Seen by thousands of strangers every single day.
The woman who had never learned to read her own name stood in Times Square and wept.
Not from pain, for once. From joy.
A few months later, in December of 1958, Bryna passed away peacefully — her son by her side. Her last words to him were not of fear or regret. They were a mother's instinct, right to the very end:
"Izzy, son, don't be afraid. This happens to everyone."
Even dying, she was still trying to protect him.
Kirk Douglas went on to live 103 years. He became a Hollywood icon, a philanthropist, the father of actor Michael Douglas. He achieved things that boy boiling bones for soup could never have imagined.
But he said it his whole life: she was the reason. Every single time.
Every film bearing the words "A Bryna Production" was never really a business credit.
It was a love letter. Written in lights. From a son who never forgot that his mother fed a family on bones — and somehow still found enough love left over to fuel a legend.
She deserved to have her name in lights.
And her son made absolutely certain she lived to see it.
@AIDRIVR Driving in right lane, preparing to turn right in quarter mile just past intersection. Car signals and gets in left lane. ? Crazy but I let it roll. Soon I see lane closed barrier I was unable to see before because of traffic. Car navigates around it and then turns right as plan.