Backward 77

The argument "cows emit methane therefore they're bad for the climate" requires you to ignore: - That methane breaks down in 12 years, unlike CO2 which persists for centuries - That the carbon in that methane came from grass that absorbed it 6 months ago - That 60 million bison did this for millennia on the American continent and the planet did not warm - That every large herbivore on Earth does this, and has done, since before humans evolved - That the grassland the cow grazes sequesters more carbon in soil than the cow emits in methane The argument sounds convincing until you apply it consistently. Then it falls apart. But it has very good graphics in the documentary.

>Be aurochs, 10,000 BC >Roam the steppes of Anatolia in vast herds >Humans approach. Nervous. >They don't kill you. They bring you grass. >Something strange begins. >Be domesticated cattle, 8,000 BC >Humans shelter you from wolves >You provide milk for their children >Partnership forms. Mutual. Ancient. >Your kind spreads across every continent with theirs. >Be cattle, 3,000 BC >Pull the plough that breaks the first agricultural soil >Humans couldn't have done it without you >Mesopotamia feeds thousands because of your shoulders >Civilisation, technically, runs on ox power >Be cattle, Roman Empire >Armies march on leather boots you provided >Shields made from your hide >Legions fed on your meat >Rome, technically, runs on you >Be cattle, Medieval Britain >The peasant's only source of winter protein >Your tallow lights the candles they read by >Your manure feeds the fields that feed everyone >The feudal economy runs on you >Be cattle, 1800s >Power the industrial revolution's early leather belts and drive shafts >Provide the tallow that lubricates every machine >Your bones make the fertiliser that feeds the growing cities >The industrial world, technically, still runs on you >Be cattle, 1950s >Scientists discover your organs saved millions during wartime >Insulin extracted from your pancreas keeps diabetics alive >Gelatin from your bones holds medicines together >Modern healthcare, technically, runs on you too >Be cattle, 2026 >The world decides your breath is a global threat >The "solution" is a lab-grown burger in a plastic box >The plastic is made from the oil that replaced your tallow >The soil turns to dust because your hooves don't stir it >The humans forget who pulled them out of the mud >You aren't the engine of progress anymore; you're the exhaust. >Be confused.

@JSeimes @rhofford That’s a nice start.

@rhofford Nothing 5-10 million deportations wouldn’t solve.

Whelp guess theyre gonna have to add another 8 hours to the driver training program

🤯HOLY MOLY!! I NEVER KNEW THIS ABOUT A STEEL DRUM! 👂🏻LISTEN TO THIS!!

Back when men still knew how to get things done the old fashioned way. This is from 1978 and men from Kurten, Germany are demonstrating old school pre-industrial techniques for making floorboards. A different breed

The music just tops this off🤣🤣🤣

@4FAngusBoy Not in my area of the southwest unfortunately. Not looking like a drought breaker by any stretch.

It’s January 4th and the snow is becoming a belly scratcher

From Valour in the face of the enemy; Christmas in Hell: Ortona, 1943 🕊️🇨🇦 Eighty-two years ago this December, Canadian soldiers celebrated the most extraordinary Christmas dinner of WWII—just blocks away from brutal street fighting. On December 25, 1943, the Seaforth Highlanders gathered in shifts at the bombed-out church of Santa Maria di Constantinopoli in Ortona, Italy. They’d scrounged tablecloths, china, roast pork, beer, and wine. An organist played “Silent Night” while machine gun fire echoed through the rubble-filled streets outside. Meanwhile, the Loyal Edmonton Regiment soldiers on the front lines received their Christmas meal: a cold pork chop and a bottle of beer, delivered under fire. This was the Battle of Ortona—called “Little Stalingrad” for its savage house-to-house combat. The Canadians faced Hitler’s elite paratroopers who’d been ordered to defend the town at all costs. The narrow streets were death traps: booby-trapped buildings, concealed machine guns, and rubble barricades turned every block into a battlefield. The Canadians improvised a brilliant tactic called “mouseholing”—blasting holes through adjoining walls to move building-to-building without exposing themselves to sniper fire. They’d throw grenades through the holes, then clear each house from the top down. The fighting lasted eight brutal days. On December 28, the Germans finally withdrew. Victory came at a terrible price: 2,300 Canadian casualties, including over 500 dead—nearly a quarter of all Canadian losses in the entire Italian Campaign. December 1943 became known as “Bloody December.” But that Christmas dinner in the church, with carols sung amid the chaos of war, remains a legendary moment of humanity and resilience in Canadian military history. For some of those young soldiers, it would be their last meal. They fought, they sang, they remembered what they were fighting for—then returned to the hell of Ortona’s streets. 🇨🇦 Lest we forget 🎄

My truck, Canada's icon #BigRed

Things I’ve learned about Canadian politics: • Your vote really doesn’t mean shit. • Nobody in government is ever held accountable for anything unless it’s a $16 orange juice. • Bad politicians fail upwards & are rewarded. • Citizens WILL be punished if they dissent.

@Denny2point0 That’s awesome. So lucky. These stores are going to be crazy busy for a long time after they’re open.

Shine up your rubber boots….Pee Pee mart is coming back to Yorkton.

@TKRanch @ArturoVandelayI I know that I definitely mind what they are doing. But what can we as do as citizens. “Voting” is only a feel good exercise it never really accomplishes anything. The rot is so deep and so entrenched that it needs generations to recover from. If we can even do it.

@ArturoVandelayI Oddly enough citizens don’t seem mind.

When the government is spending your hard earned tax $ the $ are apparently worthless, they dish them out like confetti, when the government is collecting your hard earned tax $ they’re so precious that they will jail you if you don’t hand them over. Robber baron extortionists.

This is what garage genius looks like. He has no “go to market” and no “product/market fit” so obviously in 2025 he is ignored even though he is innovating at a grand level. This is the brilliant MechanicalCreations, and they will tell you he build “toys”. Your device was one.

Wow!

Explicit language warning.

Have y’all ever seen something like this? It’s wild, but not the biggest I’ve ever seen by far. It is cool though.

Good Morning Xitterverse friends... actual footage of two of our customers fighting over the last pair of large Trekker boot socks. 24hrs/DFIU HUHAWD

Wise words “My name’s Frank. I’m 64, a retired electrician. Forty-two years I spent running wires through houses, fixing breakers, making sure people had light in their kitchens and heat in their winters. Never once did anyone ask me where I went to college. Mostly, they just wanted to know if I could get the power back on before their ice cream melted. Last May, I was at my granddaughter Emily’s school career day. You know the drill — doctors, lawyers, a software guy in a slick suit talking about “scaling startups.” I was the only one there with a tool belt and work boots. When it was my turn, I told the kids, “I don’t have a degree. I’ve never sat in a lecture hall. But I’ve wired schools, hospitals, and your principal’s house. And when the hospital generator failed during a snowstorm in ’98, I was the one in the basement with a flashlight, keeping the lights on for newborn babies upstairs.” The kids leaned forward. They had questions — real ones. “How do you fix stuff in the dark?” “Do you make a lot of money?” “Do you ever get zapped?” (Yes, once, and it’ll curl your hair.) When the bell rang, one boy hung back. Small kid, freckles, hoodie too big for him. He mumbled, “My uncle’s a plumber. People laugh at him ’cause he didn’t finish high school. But… he’s the only one in the family who can fix anything.” I looked that boy in the eye and said, “Kid, your uncle’s a hero. When your toilet overflows at midnight, Harvard ain’t sending anyone. A plumber is.” Here’s the thing nobody told me when I was young — the world doesn’t run without tradespeople. You can have all the engineers you want, but if nobody builds the house, wires the power, or lays the pipes, those blueprints just sit in a drawer. We’ve made it sound like trades are what you do if you can’t go to college, instead of a path you choose because you like working with your hands, solving problems, and seeing your work stand solid for decades. Four years after high school, some kids walk away with diplomas. Others walk away with zero debt, a union card, and a skill they can take anywhere in the world. And guess what? When your furnace dies in January, it’s not the diploma that saves you. A few weeks ago, that same freckled kid’s mom stopped me at the grocery store. She said, “You probably don’t remember, but you told my son trades are important. He’s shadowing his uncle this summer. First time I’ve seen him excited about anything in years.” That’s the part we forget — for some kids, knowing their path is respected changes everything. It’s not about “just” fixing wires or pipes. It’s about pride. Purpose. The kind that sticks with you long after the job’s done. So next time you meet a teenager, don’t just ask, “Where are you going to college?” Ask, “What’s your plan?” And if they say, “I’m learning to weld,” or “I’m starting an apprenticeship,” smile big and say, “That’s fantastic. We’re going to need you.” Because we will. More than ever. And when the lights go out, you’ll be glad they showed up.”