Jeffrey Rayner

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Jeffrey Rayner

Jeffrey Rayner

@nerjray0667

Goldwater Guy. Conscience of a Conservative. Southeast of Disorder.

Flo town AZ Katılım Aralık 2023
2.7K Takip Edilen1.3K Takipçiler
NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依
I went to Katz's Deli on Houston Street. The man at the door, an older guy in an apron, handed me a paper ticket with a grid of numbers on it. He said one thing I did not expect. "Don't lose it." I paused. I did not know why this was being said with such gravity. But a samurai understands a vow when he hears one. So I answered in kind. "I will not." "Cool. If you lose it, it's fifty dollars." I understood now. This was no receipt. This was a covenant. I had carried letters of state across mountain passes that asked less of me than this small ticket. "I will guard it as if it were the seal of my house." "...you can just keep it in your pocket, man." "My pocket will become the seal of my house." "...okay." The line at the counter was twenty deep. Behind it, a cutter in a paper hat was hand-slicing pastrami by the pound. A glass jar on the counter beside him. Bills folded inside. A sign on the jar: "Tip the cutter." A donation, on the way in, to the temple of the meat. I folded a five into the jar. The cutter, without looking up: "That's the way." "...I have given offering. I expect to be tested." "It's mostly so I give you a little extra meat." "Then test me with the extra meat." "That's literally what I was going to do." He carved a thick slice off the pastrami in front of him. He lifted it across the counter on the flat of his blade and held it out to me. I took it. I ate it standing. Warm, salt, smoke, pepper. I gave my order. Pastrami on rye. Mustard. Half-sour on the side. "You been here before?" "This is the first time I have stood on this street." "You ordered like a regular." "I have, in another life, been a regular at many counters I have never visited." "...I'm just gonna make the sandwich." He built it in front of me. Three quarters of a pound of pastrami, hand-cut, each slice falling at the same angle. A thin band of mustard the color of a winter sun. One green pickle on the plate. He stamped my ticket. "Eat it warm. Pastrami remembers being warm. Cold, it forgets." I bowed. I ate the sandwich at a long shared table. Both hands. No plate, no posture, no honor. It was the best thing I have put in my mouth on this continent. For thirty years I have read every menu in my country with caution. They handed me a sandwich and a paper with one rule on it, and I have never felt so trusted. On the wall behind the cutter, in red script, a sign read: "Send a Salami to Your Boy in the Army." A wartime promise, kept on a wall, since 1942. I have no son. But the offer stood. At the door, on the way out, the guard held out his palm. I placed the ticket in his hand. Every station stamped. Every number marked. "Clean ticket." "It is the only kind I carry." "You want it back? People keep 'em as souvenirs." I paused. I had been prepared to surrender the artifact. I had not been prepared to be offered it back. A guard at a gate, returning the seal you arrived with, is a thing that happens only to ambassadors and to friends. "...I would be honored." "Cool." He handed it back. So tell me, America. You hand a stranger a ticket and tell him not to lose it. You keep a wartime promise on a wall for over eighty years. You give the ticket back at the door, because a man might want to keep it. What other vows are you handing out, and then quietly letting people keep? And "Don't lose it." Was I keeping the ticket? Or, for one meal, was the ticket keeping me?
NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依 tweet media
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NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依
A bagel shop, just after it opened. I was the first one in. The board on the wall held more than twenty kinds. Plain. Sesame. Onion. Poppy. Rye. And one, near the bottom, simply called Everything. The woman behind the counter wiped her hands and asked what I wanted. In my country, no one asks a man what he wants. Everything is simply what is asked of him. The duty. The weight. All of it, without a name. So when I saw the word, I understood it as a question I had answered my whole life. I straightened. 「Everything.」 She nodded. 「Everything bagel. Good choice. Toasted?」 Toasted. To be put to the fire until I am ready. 「...I have been. But yes. Again.」 「...Okay, hon.」 She smiled and reached for it. Then she asked, 「Schmear?」 A word I did not know. But it landed like a command. A name called out before a duel. I rose from the stool. 「Whom do I strike.」 「Cream cheese, hon.」 She did not flinch. 「A schmear is just a spread. We put it on.」 I sat back down. A pause. 「...Then spread it. Over everything.」 「That's the idea.」 She split the bagel and I saw it then. Every seed at once. Sesame, poppy, garlic, onion, salt. Nothing left off. The whole field, baked onto one small ring. This is what I have carried. All of it. Every grain of it. But mine was never this small. Mine never fit in one hand. An old man at the counter was working through a paper bag. 「Buy a dozen,」 he said, not looking up. 「Nobody eats everything alone. You bring the rest to the others.」 A dozen. Twelve. To carry, and then to give away. I lowered my hand from my side. 「...You give the weight away?」 「That's the whole point of a dozen, friend.」 The woman set the plate down. The seeds caught the morning light. Over all of it, she had spread something soft and white, edge to edge, so that not one grain was left bare. I lifted one bite. I had to set the fork down. This is not bread. This is everything I have ever carried, made small enough to hold, softened by a stranger so it would not cut my mouth, and sold by the dozen so I would not eat it alone. For thirty years, everything was mine to bear. No one spread anything over it. No one told me to buy extra and pass it down the counter. I will carry it still. All of it. Every grain. But now I buy twelve. Everything.
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Franklin
Franklin@FranklinWang01·
@japan_nobunaga Do you deny or promote the crimes of the Imperial japanese army and the Nanjing Masscare
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
@JewelMansy @japan_nobunaga No really-refined sugar is most of those beauties. I have Diabetes T1 and never have problems. Very slow blood sugar rise, entirely manageable. Get what you like, just avoid stuff like berries and preserves, etc.
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mayzee's driver
mayzee's driver@BillPhilli86930·
@japan_nobunaga Someone please introduce this Japanese gentleman to that same bagel, only this time with thin slices of " Lox " ( smoked Nova Scotia salmon) and raw onions, a delight his taste buds will never forget.
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Aa Gio
Aa Gio@GioVonGio·
@japan_nobunaga In America, our abundance is spread the Schmear, from edge to edge, and given away to others like the 11. It is bc our charity is held within the abundance. Unlike others who abdicate their “Schmear” to their govt. and therefore, have no abundance and therefore, have no charity.
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
Everything Bagel, Schmear (Yiddish word), Lox, Capers. The "Everything" bagel is two kinds of sesame seeds, onions, and a couple other things. What makes a bagel so magical, besides being a boiled and steamed form of bread, is how damned filling they are. Also healthy carbs with the grain protein. Yet another "American" food, imported from expatriated Jewish.
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
I, speaking just for myself for now, wish the Japanese flag would put the stripes back on it. The single spot, sure, is likely culturally-representative, but WW2 has been over for 81 years now, and Japan is still a cultural powerhouse, an economic stable securities investment, and plays baseball almost as good as the USA does, limited only by statute of foreigners allowed on the rosters. World Baseball Classic is Sublime, not near World Cup, yet, but I'd visit Japan or Korea for a few games. Peace Out.
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めねぎ | 🇯🇵
めねぎ | 🇯🇵@sakebu_cheese_·
アメリカのみんなこんにちは🌎🇺🇸 W杯を見ていて改めて感じたんだけど アメリカ人は星条旗やイーグルなど、自国の象徴を本当によく身につけるよね! 帽子、シャツ、車、家の前の旗まで、とにかくアメリカ愛を隠さない印象があります。 一方、日本で私生活で日の丸を身につけたり、家の前に常に掲げたりすると、思想が強い危ない人と見られる可能性があります。 国旗そのものをここまで日常的に身につけている割合は、アメリカが圧倒的な気がします👀 子供の頃から自然なことなの? それとも愛国心が強い人だけがやっているの?
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NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依
I went to In-N-Out and ordered a cheeseburger. The cashier, a calm young woman named Destiny, asked me a question I did not expect. "You want that Animal Style?" I paused. I did not know what this meant. But a samurai does not admit he does not know. So I answered with weight. "...Animal Style." "Cool. So that's mustard-grilled, extra spread, grilled onions, pickles. Yeah?" I understood now. This was a sacred permission. For one meal, I was being told to put down my manners at the door. To eat the way a beast eats, without shame. I had waited my whole life for someone to give me this order. "Yes," I said. "I will become the animal." Destiny did not blink. "...Okay. You want your fries Animal Style too?" I stopped. Even the potatoes? "The potatoes also become animals?" "I mean, they get cheese and sauce and grilled onions, so..." "Then yes. Let the potatoes abandon their restraint as well." "...Got it." She was the calmest woman I have ever met. "3x3, 4x4, or just the one?" I did not know these numbers, but I knew a challenge when I heard one. "How many must I face?" "It's, like, how many patties you want." "How many is the most honorable?" "...Four is a lot." "Then four. A warrior does not ask for fewer." She wrote it down without argument. A 4x4, Animal Style, with animal fries. She warned me once, kindly. "That's gonna be huge." I told her I was counting on it. It arrived. It was a tower. Cheese and sauce ran down my hands the moment I lifted it. There was no clean way to eat it. There was no dignified way. That was the entire point. I ate it like a beast. Both hands, no honor, grilled onion on my chin, and I have to be honest with you, it was the best thing I have ever put in my mouth. For thirty years I have kept my manners at every table in the world. They handed me a burger and told me to be an animal, and I have never felt so free. So tell me, America. The whole country knows the secret menu. What else are you hiding in plain sight? And "Animal Style." Was I eating the animal, or finally becoming one?
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
I will admit superiority, given physical constants, of Metric. 1 kg (weight) is 1 liter of water by volume. I can't yet reconcile the meter. Has something to do with world circumference, at least I think. 1000 meters is, obviously, 1 km. Metric has still yet to standardize time to a physical Constant, however, thus speed is still km/hr, "hour" still based on the rotation of the Earth. Given 365.25 "days" per solar revolution, mean standard time could still use a work on that Constant. I like Metric, but it was attempted to be forced on the USA in the late 1970's, to fierce resistance. Private science has gladly adopted it, eg medications in milligrams.
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Kevin A French.
Kevin A French.@KevinFrench63·
The world cup. Boston. It's 19 degrees and raining. Perfect footballing weather. Why do they need a hydration break? Bloody American adverts.
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Rory
Rory@Rhideon1·
@KevinFrench63 What is 19 degrees in Fahrenheit? I can’t even talk about this.
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Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
@KevinFrench63 Southwest USA. Can get very warm. Just adds to stoppage for player safety. Mostly inconsequential. Lighten up, Francis. We love having Copa Mundial and all of the non-domestics enjoying it
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Freddy🇩🇪
Freddy🇩🇪@FreddyLA7·
Driving through Ohio. Towns like this are why we’re trying to avoid the interstates and take the slower roads instead. These are the kinds of places we want to see. This feels like peak America.🇺🇸
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
@Mia1430797 Dick's, Seattle, WA. Hits the Spot. Not going to win any culinary awards beyond absolute customer satisfaction. Could make a case for their unpretentious fries and tartar sauce, however. Experience can make urban memories.
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Mia
Mia@Mia1430797·
What’s your favorite burger spot in America? Kindly reply below 👇🏻 ⬇️
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Jeffrey Rayner retweetledi
NOBUNAGA🇯🇵🏯_夏樹蒼依
A sandwich shop in New Orleans. I ordered a fried shrimp po'boy. The man behind the counter, Marcus, asked me something gently. "You want it dressed?" I looked at the sandwich on the counter. Shrimp. Bread. Nothing else. It was naked. I understood at once. In this city, they do not let a sandwich go out into the world undressed. A people who give clothing even to their lunch. I was moved. "It is not dressed now?" I asked, carefully. "Nah, right now that's just the shrimp and the bread." "Then yes. I cannot let it leave this counter naked." Marcus nodded slowly. "...So, lettuce, tomato, mayo, pickle?" "Whatever it needs to be decent." He started building it. I watched each layer go on like a garment. The lettuce was its robe. The tomato, a sash. I bowed my head a little, out of respect for the dressing of a thing. "You good?" Marcus asked. He had stopped, mid-mayo. "Do the other sandwiches know," I said quietly, "that this one was almost sent out bare?" "...They don't really, uh. Know things." "You protect its honor anyway. You are a kind man." He finished dressing it without another word. A patient man. He even laid the pickles on like he meant it. I took a bite, and the shrimp were hot and crisp and the bread cracked and gave way, and the whole thing was, I will be honest with you, perfect. I ate the rest standing up, shrimp falling, mayo on my thumb, completely content. A man, a blade, a sandwich. None of the three should ever be sent into the world undressed. So tell me, America. You ask if the sandwich would like to be dressed, as if it could feel shame. Who decided a sandwich had dignity worth protecting? And when it sat there bare on the counter. Which of us looked away first?
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FOX Soccer
FOX Soccer@FOXSoccer·
Save of the tournament contender?
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Jeffrey Rayner
Jeffrey Rayner@nerjray0667·
@JustinMacmahan Sure, they had a "weak" table, but there doesn't seem to be any reason they can't perform respectably through knockouts. Not likely to get through to Copa Mundial, but still a solid "side".
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Justin Macmahan
Justin Macmahan@JustinMacmahan·
I still don’t understand how it’s impossible for the United States to win this soccer tournament. If Spain and England can go 90 scoreless minutes against Cape Verde and Ghana, why could the US not pull off a few upsets?
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Ron wright
Ron wright@ronsterd89·
Be honest what’s your first thought when you see this steak 🥩
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