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The need for dependable and effective heating systems grows as the seasons shift and the temperature drops. Oil central heating systems have become a popular and efficient option among the range of options offered to many homeowners. In this blog post, we will examine oil central heating, including its benefits, how it operates, and why it is still a reliable way to heat homes. If you are looking for any Oil Central Heating, Boiler Repair Services in Smithtown, Hauppauge, St. James Lake Ronkonkoma Commack, Northport, and Long Island, contact JetAirCo.
#Oil Central Heating Island#Oil Heating Boiler Northport#Oil Central Heating#Boiler Repair Services#New York#USA
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Central Heating Grants | Heat Pump Grants Wales | Oil Boiler Grants
Central Heating Grants are available through the Energy Company Obligation (ECO) scheme. This is a government scheme to help tackle fuel poverty across the UK which is funded by the largest utility companies in the UK. For more information, please visit: https://warmfront.uk/
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Welcome to Funding For Boiler, the leading provider of oil boiler servicing in Newton Mearns. We understand the importance of keeping your boiler running safely and efficiently and our team of experts are here to help you do just that. As your local oil boiler specialists, we have been providing oil boiler servicing in Newton Mearns for over years. We can provide a full range of services to keep your boiler running smoothly, from routine servicing and maintenance to more comprehensive repairs.
#boilerservice#boiler installation newton mearns#new boilers installation#installation oil boilers#gas boiler#central heating repair#scotland#uk
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24 January 2024
Filmmaker Khaled Tuaima photographs a falafel vendor. The man behind the counter has set up his makeshift shop (mostly comprised of canvas sheets and poles) in a central area between several shelter centers in northern Gaza. In the absence of electric heating, the man uses wood to heat the oil, which is incredibly labor-intensive and time-consuming. Further, being out in the open is dangerous, as he could be targeted by IOF snipers or drones at any point. He stands out there anyway so that he can provide for his family. The prices of the few basic necessities still available in Gaza have increased astronomically, leading people to take desperate measures to survive.
Source: Khaled Tuaima on Instagram
#north gaza#gaza#gaza genocide#gaza strip#gaza under attack#free gaza#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#palestinian genocide#gaza journalists#photo#khaled tuaima#24 january 2024#stop israel#stop genocide#stop the genocide#stop war#end israel's genocide#end the occupation#save gaza#save palestine#free palestine#free free palestine
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[ID: A plate of leafy greens topped with two blue chicory flowers; second photo is a close-up on a flower. End ID]
هندبة بالزيت / Hinda b al-zayt (Palestinian wild greens with olive oil)
“هندبة” (“hindba”), “هِنْ��ِبَاء” (“hindibāʔ”), or هِنْدَب (“hindab”) is an Arabic word referring to chicory, wild endive, or dandelion greens.
Two Palestinian dishes are commonly made using hindba. One isهندبة بزيت (hinda b zayt), hindba with [olive] oil, which combines blanched greens with browned onion, lemon juice, and (of course) olive oil. Lebanese hindba is similar, consisting of greens prepared in the same way, but topped with sliced, caramelised onions. The other preparation of hindba is with a dressing made with tahina (tahini), lemon juice, chili, and sometimes garlic or yoghurt.
This recipe is for hindba with onion and olive oil. The dish is simple to make but has a lot going on, flavor-wise. Slow frying renders the onions tender, sweet, and jammy, balancing out the slight bitterness of the greens. The rich, peppery, fruity taste of good olive oil rounds out the earthiness of chicory, while lemon juice provides brightness and lift.
Several food aid organizations have been forced to discontinue operations in Gaza. Some of those still on the ground are:
Palestinian Red Crescent Society
World Central Kitchen
Anera
Ingredients:
2 bunches (130g) chicory or dandelion leaves
1 large yellow onion, chopped
Juice of 1 lemon
Olive oil
Salt, to taste
Instructions:
1. Boil chicory in salted water for 5-7 minutes, until tender, then drain. If using dandelion greens, boil for 10 minutes. (The boiling water is potable, but probably too bitter to be palatable.)
2. Heat olive oil in a large skillet on medium-low. Add onion and a pinch of salt and fry until softened and golden brown, 10-15 minutes.
3. Squeeze the water out of the greens and chop into about 1/2" (1cm) pieces. Add to the pan and fry until wilted.
4. Taste and adjust salt. Add lemon juice to taste.
Serve hot or cold, topped with good olive oil. Eat hindba by scooping it up with khubbiz al-kmaj (pita).
Identifying chicory:
Common chicory (Cichorium intybus) is also in the Astaraceae family. Stems are grooved and slightly hairy; woody and branched; multiple flowers usually grow along one stalk. Leaves are smooth or irregularly toothed, pointed at the tip, and may have different appearances at different parts of the plant. The leaf midribs are green or reddish. The leaves you want are the larger ones growing in a bunch towards the base of the stem.
This plant has some leaves with larger teeth.
Smaller, lanceolate leaves grow in alternate sides along the stem.
Flowers are light blue to lavender and finely toothed; there are two rows of darker bracts in the center of each flower.
In the fall, the leaves often remain while the flowers and stalks have died, leaving a brown, branching, skeletal structure behind.
Identifying dandelion:
See hinda b al-tahina.
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"No, no, no. You misunderstand. This is elf checkout."
Ever since we opened that portal to the fantasy dimension, we've been dealing with a lot of labour strife. Thanks to me taking down that Nissan Atlas that kept running over all those teenagers and sending them to become great warriors in another world, the portal has been swarmed constantly with immigrants. Those nice folks just want to work in a place with central heating and air conditioning, and where bandits are unlikely to chop off their heads or blow up their homes with lightning spells.
We had to expect that big business would take advantage of the portal. For instance, it wasn't even a week until we caught an oil company executive trying to dispose of barrels of tailing-pond waste over in Not-Narnia. He cried like a little baby, especially when Great Warrior Carl (I don't know his last name) booted his ass through the doorway and he got dissolved by a green slime. Sort of appropriate, honestly, but I digress. Anyway, one of the other things that big business did was take advantage of low-priced, precarious labour.
See, these poor rubes were so overwhelmed by our modern society that they agreed to basically anything. That's how we ended up with elf checkouts, which replaced the old expensive scanning robots with magical beings who were attuned to nature, had pointy ears, and didn't know the phone number for the labour ministry. It's hard to avoid the sense that they are being exploited, something which absolutely puts a downer on my shopping trip.
Write your representative today: authorize a tactical nuclear strike on Grobnar the Destroyer's Skull Fortress, so that these wretches can go back home.
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This Single Oversight Will Bring Irken-Kind to Its Knees
I have a little riddle for you.
What does an ant nest, a computer, and the ancient city of Troy have in common?
While you ponder the significance of this question and consider your answer, there’s a few things I want to analyze about the worldbuilding of Invader Zim.
We may have heard it said before, least I have (and agree), that the fate of the IZ universe appears to be a rather bleak picture.
Through our lens of focus, being upon Earth and an oh-so specific nutball waging his battle upon humanity, we often don’t do as much thinking about the larger cosmic war taking place meanwhile. Not between the Meekrob and Tenn, not between the Tallest and every dumb luck threat they are thrown against, but between the Irken Armada and all life in the entire universe, sentient or not.
Their intentions will not be made any more clear, between outright eradication or eventual enslavement of every lifeform they set their sights on. While they have alliances and neutral treaties, those agreements seem few and far between, as well as born from temporary conveniences. The cards have already been dealt, and all available evidence has indicated that every planet they are aware of is doomed from the moment The Massive was operational.
Though littered with inefficiencies and incompetency that could suggest an empire in internal decline, the development of the control brains and other centralized command crutches of the species suggests the Irkens can still keep a well oiled machine running, no matter how many mishaps happen along the way. At least, that machine and their plundered resources will definitely outlast the survival of their enemies, for sure.
To speak of their enemies, there has not been a single competitive race within the show that demonstrates any credible threat to Operation Impending Doom II- only those that can resist the conquest a little bit longer than others, or those who survive by appeasing Irk (or evading its detection). The fall of Vort, which stood as the homeworld of the only aliens with the technological ability to match the armada’s firepower is…. Really bad news. That’s to say the least of comparatively primitive, TINY planets like Earth or Blorch, standing zero chance in the way of what’s eventually coming. This is a war that has continued despite the death of two.. FOUR Almighty Tallests if you follow the movie’s events… and Irkens wholly are still thriving for it across the Galaxy.
So, given all of these facts, and the perception that the Irkens (like any invasive species or colonial force) don’t seem to be a society that will make responsible and/or sustainable use of their ill-gotten territory… it seems like this is how life across the universe ends in Invader Zim one day: Not with a bang, not with the whimper of heat death, but through screams muffled under the bloody boots of a dominant predator- a predator that is, itself, doomed to cannibalize its own once it hits the carrying capacity of all existence.
Bleak, concrete, and horrific as that may sound, there’s still a “however” here to consider!
Yep, that’s me about to point one of my big fat fingers to the sky and protest- Irk just might be,
Not so Undefeatable, after all!
And not only have I figured out exactly what sort of countermeasure you need to destroy these invaders, I have reason to suspect it’s a plan already long ago set into motion.
Let’s break it down,
An Irksome Achilles’ Heel
True, individually, the bug bastards are irritatingly tough to kill through conventional means. True, collectively, they are nigh impossible to outmatch. And more than most anything else, they owe this tenacity to two things: numbers, and R&D. Possessing some of most state of the art pinnacles in transportation, communications, and military equipment, the Armada found a knack for being able to steamroll most lesser planets before it.
The genius of the individual PAK unit grants each and any one Irken a theoretical path to partial immortality itself, by route of consciousness archiving. I strongly believe that kind of cybernetic progress was also one of the stepping stones that led to the creation of the Control Brains. Nonetheless, this very same strength of the Irkens’ has also proven to be the source of their greatest vulnerability.
Paks, Paks… Oh Paks. The entire race’s civilization revolves around such technology the way we do around our own brains, our own hearts, and our communicative network. For all intents and purposes, and as I’ve gone on about ad nauseum in my other spills about the show, a PAK is all and at once
• Synonymous with the holder of their soul, consciousness, being, whatever you want to call their personhood.
• Able to have their data repurposed by future generations, in the result of an Irken’s permanent death.
• A universal necessity shared by the entire population.
• Susceptible to alterations, sometimes by intelligent enough individuals (as demonstrated by the Zimvoid comic arc), but usually by a Control Brain, directly.
In addition to that last quality, there’s another way the code in a PAK can be changed, for better or worse- Via evolution. Though I am talking about digitized neurology, the actual data in a PAK is a lot more comparable to biological DNA or a “self-learning” AI than it is a rigid computer program. By this, I mean that its code is subject to certain changes over time, perhaps both directed and completely random, particularly during the recycling of its information back into the Smeeteries.
And this is actually good design on the control brains’ part, the same way not reproducing Irkens as genetically identical clones was. Genetic and digital diversity are desirable goals to keep in mind if you want a healthy and versatile stock of workers, engineers, soldiers, and everything in between. We’re talking about highly sentient, highly intelligent, and emotional organisms here. A static drone mindset is going to offer them inadequate ability to adapt to their lengthy life experiences or be unique persons. How else would social mobility have purpose in their world? How else could the cream of the crop rise so far above their peers? That positive was deemed worthy of an obvious risk, however: computational errors.
When the Bugs Get Bugs
 IZ does not clearly lay out what it means for an Irken to be defective, but it gives us a general idea. Defectiveness is not something diagnosed from a code scan for this missing value or that incorrect variable. It’s not judged by one specific character trait or quality that’s abnormal for an Irken to display. “Defective” is a judgement stamp, wielded by the Control Brains when they gauge the total sum value of a life’s contribution to the species. And it’s not one given to Irkens which are merely incompetent, no. Anyone proven to be unfit for their standing is given generous opportunity for redemption or simply reassigned a more suitable occupation. If it were based on likability, we’d have seen Skoodge sent to Judgementia years ago.
Rather, it’s given to those who are viewed as so twisted that they are proven to be an existential danger to their brethren. Irkens that are so destructive to the essence of the collective that their memory must be purged from the record and their identity erased.
I adore the enthusiasm behind fans who want to view this as an analogy for disability or neurodivergence against a conformist society, but the metaphor I’m seeing is one of extreme antisocial behavior. A defective Irken screams less “adhd/autism” to me than they do serial murderers (of their own) or outright traitors. Pardon the use of a gross phrase, but it’d seem we were talking about an Irken equivalent of what the outdated gens would have dubbed the “criminally insane”. No one on screen has ever shown Skoodge or Tak the sort of concern that would get them sent to the Spike of Judgement, but when Zim was in that hot seat? NO one was doubting what his verdict would be.
^ courtesy of “The Trial’s” transcript
I think about the 40 shmillion mistakes a lot.
It’s such a vague quantity. But it sure sounds like a hell of a big one. And what mistakes… what did the lil squirt even have to compare them to? There’s no standard one person an Irken can be. Every presentation of the flaws in that code to the control brains hasn’t ended up a flaw to him.
I only started writing this because I really couldn’t stop thinking about the 40 shmillion. There’s no chronological room for bad self-modding to add up to that so quickly.  DNA replication, nature’s own sloppy and random process of creating new life, can be excused around 120,000 hiccups when duplicating with a 6 billion pair-long protein. But this kind of shuffling is under a futuristic AI’s precise eye. Yes, defects happen, but as bad as him? From birth??? How could you possibly get that many detrimental deviations from the mechanical fucking god-queen(s) of their entire homeworld?
And then it hit me.
You don’t. Not from Irk.
The hot take I’ve been charging for this entire time is thus.
Zim is not defective by any random accident. In fact, I smell the tampering of foreign sabotage.
Not only is this guy the thing his kind fears more than any else, they have every right to be shaking in their stance.
That puzzle i posed at the beginning of this journey, have you seen what I’ve seen yet?
Because the answer I was looking for as to what similarity connects an anthill, a PC, and a city from Greek legend was a most effective tactic for taking them down.
Do you know the best way to deal with a bad ant infestation? Cuz you can lay down all the raid and crushing action you want, but you won’t really be getting anywhere unless you target the pests directly at their queen. To that end, liquid ant baits are marvelous inventions- a sweet substance hiding a small amount of slow acting poison. Poison to be peacefully delivered by the stomach of an ant to the rest of her colony, poisoning her kin, who sicken more members, on and on until the queen is destroyed and the entire nest perishes. An insidious toxin to do all the work while its user never lifts a finger, pretty ingenious.
And when it comes to computers, we also have ways to attack entire networks at source, from quietly and far away. “Trojan” was a category of malware responsible for 64.31% of all cyber attacks on Windows systems in 2022, and they still make up a majority of active malware hits today. The concept is deviously simple. The malicious code is hidden within an innocent looking program, maybe even within a legitimate software that does what it’s supposed to. Once the stowaway is invited into the system, it can get down to it some sneaky, nasty, destructive work on your device. As for what those acts could look like, well, malware exists to do all kinds of things. Mostly something involving trying to get money/information from you or hijacking your computer for whatever its creator wants to use it for. And some of them will just up and wreck your shit, disable your antivirus software to open you up to more infections, disable important operations, wipe your data. Use your imagination.
And as for Troy.. well, where do you think Trojan programs got their name? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So, Irkens have their Armada, bionic drones, and homeworld- in other words, the thriving swarm of army ants, the billions to trillions of computers they so rely on, and their nigh untouchable fortress, always at war.
And some damn crafty bastard(s) in the stars said
“Here is their sugar-bait,”
“Here is their cyber attack,”
“Here is their wooden horse.”
And one particular race is going to be getting the last laugh before long.
Nerds That Are GOATed With the Sauce
That’s right, I thought about this all the way through to finding our prime suspect. And let me tell you, NO ONE in the Galaxy reeked of fish like the Vortians did. Get over here and lemme show you my whiteboard with all the red circles and polaroids on it.
- The Means
In a way of tragic irony, Vort has contributed more than any else to the same Irken conquest that turned on them in the end. A natural talent for cutting edge engineering and technical development actually does not seem to be what Irk already came into the ring with. For how mighty and superior they view themselves, the greatest achievements of their military can actually be owed to Vortian outsourcing. When we would have gotten a look at Tallest Miyuki’s very own “finest minds” during her reign, notice something interesting about these guys below,
Zim there is the ONLY Irken to be found! Yes, transferred there because of the punchline explanation of ‘he breaks everything he touches so maybe he’ll have an affinity for weapons research’ but damn right he actually did! And still does; I don’t want it to go unsaid that Zim has shown MUCH more technological skill and innovation than near any other Irken we’ve seen.
Another fun thing to note about this is that Lard Nar was also part of this lineup, and in the transcript he was in the process of working on the blueprints for The Massive. (which leaves you with the cursed knowledge that Zim, Prisoner 777, and Lard were all familiar coworkers long before the events of the show) And that brings me back to what I’m saying about the real reason the Vort natives were enslaved and imprisoned instead of outright sweeped after conquering. The Armada needs their skills, because Vortian advancement is something their own scientists couldn’t come close to. Left to their own devices, Vort could have easily outmatched them at an earlier point in history. It’s a people that figured out infinite power sources and potentially wormhole technology, while PAKs were something a disfigured human tween with a lot of time on his hands was able to crack. If anyone could outpace and outsmart the defensive measures of the Control Brains, it’s going to be them. And what better, cleaner way to sabotage the enemy than from within. 
The very same strings of inserted code that cursed Zim with his delusions, paranoia, lust for destruction, and horrible tactics may also have blessed him with a determination and intellect higher than almost any creature alive. The saboteur gave Irk the most powerful racecar in history, and then fitted it with bicycle brakes. No matter how hard Zim tries to conform to what will give him admiration, no matter how competent he is at keeping himself alive, it’s as if he is instinctually compelled toward whatever actions will cause the MOST damage to his allies in the process. Dib may think he’s the bulwark against the invasion when, ironically, he’s fighting against the one being that’s predetermined to be the arrow that strikes Irken leadership right in their dumb, green heels. (There is also an instance in the comics where Dib figures out that Zim is the ace in the hole for total Irken eradication but that’s another fun story.)
Oh, oh HO HO, and that’s only what he’s capable of doing before the empire’s actual immune system against defects like him wakes up and notices!
Three planetary blackouts, two dead generals, and a whole swath of dead invaders was just the fucking warm up, babey! All that is merely the kind of loud disruption that you need in order to fulfil the real thing this Trojan horse exists for in the first place.
What a celebration of hubris the Spike of Judgement was. Yeah, let’s take our method of filtering the corrupted data from the hive mind, and completely centralize it on a single planet! As well, let’s have the very purging agents also be the same ones to perform the evaluations themselves, I’m sure that it would be unthinkable for any outsider to design a worm that could make it through the brains’ firewalls. Goddamn spectacular. Like inserting an infected USB into your laptop, the Tallest never realized what kind of beast they woke up by plugging that PAK into the Spike’s mainframes. Those brains were meant to handle an expected spectrum of deviation when it came to defective Irkens, never a sleeper virus of this complexity.
From here it probably won’t even matter if Zim survives much longer on Earth, his virus has already spread to the very thing relied upon to keep things like him out of the data pool in the first place. With the Judgementia brains corrupted and no higher authority to overrule them, the firewall is effectively broken, and you know what that means? Bigger cracks for future defectives to start trickling through, both spontaneous and artificial. The ideal scenario is one where a degenerating and glitched population accelerates the incompetency of the empire to the point where it just implodes on itself; nevertheless, even a disease that only slows down Operation Doom could be a game changer, by giving the rest of the little guys more time to band together a coalition strong enough to strike back when the time is right.
- The Motive
The history of these two races’ alliance is something I lament us not having more lore to pull from- how far back it goes, what the character of the Vort was like during that time, what the Irkens had offered in return- a few among dozens of questions it rears.  The implication behind how it ended lies in Zim’s creation that slayed Tallest Miyuki. Interestingly, the Empire never received the memo of what exactly went down, or, perhaps, stubbornly denied the account of the other scientists who were there that day. Neither Red/Purple nor the Judgmentia Brains had any idea that Zim’s actions led to the death of a Tallest. So, makes sense that the Vortians became the unintentional scapegoat (no pun intended) for the incident, and the rest is history.
Note: It’s also in the realm of possibility that Vort was actually the one to withdraw from the alliance instead, given that the same blob that devoured Miyuki (purely the fault of their Irken transfer) also went on to cause untold amounts of devastation. Red’s reaction to the real story stuck out to me as more telling, although.
But why am I even talking about this? Zim was decades old before war was declared on them, and either people’s regard to each other seemed strangely… respectful, if anything.
But, was Vort really a monolithic bunch? Irk was already an empire by this point, and diplomacy with those they needed something from did not mean they weren’t otherwise an aggressive force in the universe. For all we know, the alliance itself might have been coerced, or result of depraved leadership among the Vortians.  Any citizen with a conscience who could see the writing on the walls would be disgusted by giving so much aid and brown nosing to such a menace, no? I know who would have seen that writing before anyone else. Brainiacs who are smart enough to build something like The Massive and all its bells and whistles would know better than anyone just what it was all capable of in the wrong hands. The collateral damage against your own people might be a sacrifice worth making in the face of the alternative.
- The Oppurtunity
So.. that’s all well and good, yeah? A why, and a what, yet this is actually the tricky part of saving the galaxy,
Sneaking your StupidifyIrk.exe file onto the assholes’ homeworld without alerting either them or your own treacherous, weak, collaborator superiors to your actions. Infecting and releasing a random Irken alive would be far too dangerous, far too noticeable to the point where they could just be destroyed outright before given a chance to wreak real havoc.
But what about releasing a dead Irken? 🤔
PAKs are only screened for criminal flaws when errors begin to affect their body’s behaviors in destructive ways. A fully competent scientist, or soldier, or navigator performing a lifetime of loyal service to the empire and then meeting an unfortunate end? Their minds’ shadows can be accepted back into the data pool no questions asked. That’s only business as usual.
That almost makes new smeets something of a reincarnation of their ancestors. Personally, I see it kind of like replaying a video game and re-rolling your stats, even if you’re reusing your character’s name and general play style.
Either way, we come full circle to my theory about Zim’s actual origin. Maybe not “our” Zim, but the previous iteration of data that was shuffled to create his person. Whoever they were, I’m convinced that they were also an exceptional individual. They were probably pretty arrogant, but it was a more earned confidence, and they were a prodigy genius, the likes of which that was drawn to work alongside Vortian allies, as another researcher. Then, an untimely demise befell them. I couldn’t say they fell victim to some unfortunate accident, considering the cockroach durability of their body. No, I find it a lot easier to imagine they met their end in one of the more embarrassing ways for an Irken to die- A PAK stolen, disabled or forcefully detached by an assailant they might have allowed a little closer than they should have. To the homeworld, it’s a small matter. One more PAK recovered by the natives of the friendly planet, brought back home to be repurposed by the smeeteries, right?
Well, that’s what one smartass might have been hoping for.
And they really were a clever cookie, because that scheming seed is fruiting beautifully.
#invader zim#iz#vortian#irkens#invader zim headcanon#iz headcanons#planet Vort#scarlet talks about things#sci fi#long post#absolute ramblings i mean holy crap#longass post
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body work
➝ maybe agreeing to go to saudi arabia wasn't a bad idea…
➝ word count: 4,5k
➝ warnings: dakar!fer, flirting, mentions of bdsm, hot weather
➝ author's note: this last week has been extremely difficult for me, both emotionally and physically. i had a terrible migraine attack that left me practically unable to do anything other than cry or want to vomit. however, when she gave me a break, i managed to finish this one shot. i would really like your feedback, if possible!
You could feel your white t-shirt sticking to your skin, as well as your hair on the back of your neck. The desert sun made even the slightest effort feel Herculean, the hot wind doing little to alleviate the heat you felt even under the tent pitched on a stony plain near Al Wajh.
This was definitely not the way you wanted to start your year, but it wasn't like you had much of a choice. With a practically free schedule and a colleague unable to travel due to personal problems, it was up to you to go to Saudi Arabia to take care of one of the clinic's most famous patients.
— Fernando is almost here — you heard someone murmur next to you. Turning your face, you found a man with wavy hair messed up by the wind and his eyes half-closed as he looked at the horizon, searching for something on the horizon.
— Are you sure, Alberto? — you asked the businessman, raising an eyebrow — It's been ten minutes since people started arriving and nothing about them...
— From what they said, they were right behind another Toyota — he said, while a cloud of dust rose in the distance, indicating that another competitor was arriving at the competition camp — Ah, look at him there.
After crossing the finish line, you accompanied Alberto in an attempt to take the red, white and black painted Hilux to the closest point to the motorhome that had become your base of operations. As you approached the vehicle, which smelled of hot oil and gasoline, you saw the door suddenly open, revealing a figure wearing a blue helmet and a black jumpsuit with white and red trim.
— How it was? — Alberto asked, while the driver disconnected something from the central panel.
— Sand, stone and dust for ten hours — Fernando replied, as he unbuckled his seat belt and removed his helmet, revealing a tired smile — Ten hours! Can you believe that?
— I do — the businessman said, while helping the driver out of the truck. After throwing his helmet on the seat and hugging Alberto, Fernando headed towards the reporters who were crowding around a railing to talk to him.
Watching the driver take off his sandy coveralls, leaving his sweaty white Nomex in full view, you felt something warm rise up your cheeks, teeth finding your bottom lip.
You had never been carried away by the physical nature of your work. The barriers you had placed for yourself were always firm, as were your ethics that dictated that you should never get involved with anyone who requested your services. But since you had set foot in Jeddah, you have seen your own conviction tested every day.
And it was getting harder and harder to resist.
Taking a deep breath, you turned and headed towards the tent set up next to Fernando's motorhome. Upon entering the space, you realized how much needed to be done there before the driver arrived for his much needed physical therapy session. You still had to set up the table, arrange the materials and put on the instrumental playlist you loved. “Let’s go”, you thought as you headed towards your bag.
You were whistling some tune while lighting the scented candles when you heard a clearing of your throat coming from behind. When you turned around, you met Fernando's dark, curious eyes.
— Which song is that? — he asked.
— Ah — you smiled, while shaking the match you had used to light the last candle — I don't know, actually...
— It doesn't sound like that Ayurvedic nonsense you listen to during sessions — the driver slowly approached the massage table, resting one hand on it.
— It's not nonsense, Fernando, it's a way to help you disconnect and relax — you replied — Lie down.
— Edo doesn't put things like that — he murmured, as he sat on the kind of stretcher you had set up in the middle of the tent. Wearing a black coat over a white shirt and shorts of the same color, his hair had damp ends, probably from the shower — He knows that doesn't help.
— And that must be why you're always stressed — you said, giggling — Do you prefer forest sounds, then?
— I prefer the lovely chirping of a V10 engine — Fernando said, as the table he was sitting on creaked under his weight.
— Sounds of the forest, then — you concluded, taking the phone and connecting the device to the small speaker that was next to you. It wasn't long before the rustling of leaves filled the tent, contrasting with the engines and conversations coming from outside.
Putting your cell phone in your pocket, you brushed your hair away from your face as you approached the massage table, assessing Fernando's expression, who seemed bothered by something.
— Any points I need to focus on today? — you asked, resting your hands right next to his leg.
— On the left ankle — the driver replied, the crack drawing your attention to the spot below him. Moving the foot in circles, the sound repeated itself in an almost sickening way — It doesn't hurt, but it didn't make that noise before, so...
Standing next to his foot, you began moving it, trying to understand where the sound was coming from. Your fingers pressed Fernando's skin in search of the tendons and joints, the precise touch in search of what was bothering him.
After a few minutes of thorough exploration, without the driver making a sound of protest, you pressed your lips together. Although the absence of pain was a relief, unusual and frequent sounds meant there was an injury waiting to happen. And considering how much he must use that foot, having a strength problem at that point wasn't a good thing.
— Well, you aren’t injured…
— Excellent.
— Yet — you added, while letting go of his ankle — I think you'll have to do some tests when you get back home to see if you really have any problems.
— Could it get worse in the next few days?
— In theory, no, especially since you're not feeling any pain. But I'll talk to Edoardo and see what we can do. Any other points that worry you? — you asked, receiving a refusal from Fernando — So let's move on.
Turning to the small table you had requested to place your materials, you picked up the bottle that held your favorite massage oil and dripped a few drops into the palm of your hand. Then you walked back to the massage table where the driver was lying, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent.
— Let me know if you feel anything — you murmured, before taking your hands to his calf and starting to massage it.
The movement of your fingers under Fernando's skin, searching for the small nodules where the stress and, consequently, the pain were, was something that relaxed you, in a way. Maybe it was the way you repeated the movements, the way your chest filled with satisfaction when you found a point where you could release the tension that was built up in his body after ten long hours of driving in the middle of the desert.
When you pressed a specific spot near his ankle, you heard him hiss.
— Did it hurt? — you asked.
— A little — Fernando replied, still staring at the ceiling.
— I'll be careful.
— No need — he murmured, which made you look at his face.
— Fernando…
— I’m fine, you can continue. Pain is good, sometimes...
You couldn't hold back a smile.
— Is there something bothering you? — you began, while pressing his calf muscles again in search of stress points — Or is this your way of revealing to me that you are a masochist?
The driver suddenly raised his head.
— Masochist?
You felt something warm rise up your cheeks. That kind of conversation was definitely not in the appropriate category, as your professor of ethics and deontology in physiotherapy had put it on the blackboard in one of the classes.
— It's just a guess — you replied quickly, turning to the table in search of more oil and a few seconds to breathe.
— Based on what? — Fernando asked.
When you turned back to the driver, you found him raised on his elbows. His gaze had a gleam of curiosity and something you couldn't identify.
— You just said the pain is good — you said, placing one of your hands just above his knee and below the edge of his shorts — I think it's a rather obvious hint of what you like in bed.
Fernando raised an eyebrow.
— You mean you think about what I like in bed?
A nervous laugh escaped your lips, fingers starting to work on his rectus femoris.
— Please, Fernando — you murmured, feeling your heart pounding inside your chest. That wasn't right, you couldn't think about those details about your patients, especially when it came to him.
— Come on, do you think or not? — he insisted, in a challenging tone.
— I'm not going to answer that — you just said, trying to focus on the tension points on his leg — Now you can lie down straight, I need to work on your thigh.
Lowering his head again, Fernando let out a long sigh, his eyes fixed on the roof of the tent. However, if you expected him to remain silent after your denial, you were sadly mistaken.
— I think about it…
— About what you like?
— About what you like — the driver replied, emphasizing “you”.
The statement made you swallow hard, hands running up and down his lightly tanned skin. It wasn't like you tried to get Fernando's attention all the time, quite the opposite. You always thought you were invisible to his eyes, just a face among the entourage that accompanied him during his participation in that competition.
— I wonder if you like to take it slow or if you prefer to get straight to the point. If you like to dominate or if you prefer to be at the mercy of your partner. If you like being touched or prefer to just touch — Fernando said, his voice getting lower, almost hoarse, as he explored the possibilities — I think about your eyes rolling, your mouth open, the noise you would make if I were inside you.
— Fernando — you murmured in an almost reprimanding tone.
He suddenly sat on the massage table, his face close to yours.
— Tell me you don't think about that either. Tell me you don't think about me.
You blinked, cheeks growing hotter.
It was obvious that you thought about him. There wasn't a day that went by that you didn't think about the way he smiled, the way he ran his hand through his hair before putting the white cap with black and red details on his head. There wasn't a moment where you didn't fantasize about what it would be like to kiss him.
— I — you stammered, about to give the answer he wanted, when you realized a particularly important detail at that moment. The most important thing, actually — Linda.
Fernando blinked, looking confused.
— Linda? What about Linda?
— She's your girlfriend, you're not...
He snorted.
— She's in the past, Y/N.
— But, you…
— Just answer me, do you think about me?
The air escaped your lips shakily.
— Yes, I do. All day. All the time.
Your confession made Fernando smile, bringing his hand to your face. The look you exchanged for long seconds spoke more than any dialogue you could have had. There were no ethics classes or girlfriends that could stop what was about to happen inside that tent.
And it was to the sound of the artificial rustling of the tree leaves that you kissed Fernando.
His touch was gentle at first, as if the driver wanted to make sure you were on the same page, wanting this as much as he did. And, the moment he realized that you didn't move away from his touch, Fernando deepened the kiss, his tongue touching yours for the first time.
There was something different in the way he kissed you, a kind of thirst, as if you were an oasis in the middle of that desert. His hands held your face tightly, as if you were going to run away from his touch at any moment. As the sound of the birds was drowned out by your own pulse, you were sure you would never leave that place as long as you were there. And you made sure to make that clear by nibbling on his lower lip when Fernando pulled away slightly, completely panting.
Opening your eyes, you met his green-stained gaze. That made you feel the same heat as the first day, when you introduced yourself to him as the physiotherapist who would accompany him during the competition. There was an intensity that permeated it, a glow that you hadn't identified until that moment, but that became clear in a split second.
It was desire. It always had been.
— Fernando? — you heard someone say.
You didn't have time to say anything before he turned his face away, running a nervous hand through his hair. His gaze went to the entrance of the tent, his expression undeniably tense, as if he had done something he shouldn't have done.
And, in a way, he had. You both had.
Alberto's smile as he entered the tent made his stomach turn. Did he know what you had done? Did he imagine that his best friend had just kissed the physical therapist?
— Is there a problem, Galle? — Fernando asked, in a calm, almost natural tone — Y/N is finishing looking at my foot.
— The one that's clicking?
— Yeah, that one — you managed to say, your hands cold as ice.
— Injured?
— Not yet — the driver replied — Apparently it could evolve if I’m not careful. I'm going to see Edo to do some tests when I’m back.
— Well, if you say so — Alberto murmured — The mechanics were adjusting the axle and wanted to talk to you. Are you done there?
Exchanging a brief look, Fernando knew the answer almost immediately. You wouldn’t be able to touch him again, especially after that kiss.
— Yes, Y/N is done here — he said, while you nodded — Tell them I'm coming.
Alberto just said 'ok' before leaving the tent, leaving you two alone. Fernando's gaze on you seemed to burn into your skin, trying to read your body expression and, above all, your face.
— Y/N?
— Yeah, Fernando?
— See you later? — he asked, in a low voice.
— Later?
— In your motorhome. I think we can… Continue our conversation there.
An involuntary smile appeared on his lips.
— After dinner? — you questioned, as he got up from the table.
— Don't you want me to prepare my omelet for you? — he smiled, before putting on his flip flops.
— Definitely not — a laugh escaped his lips — It's disgusting.
— It was Edo who recommended it to me.
— Because he is crazy. You both are.
— Maybe we are — Fernando replied, walking towards the entrance of the tent — See you, Y/N.
— See you.
#fernando alonso#nordswrites#fernando alonso fanfic#fernando alonso fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#fernando alonso x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula one fic#formula one fanfic#formula one x you#fernando alonso x you
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Dergtober -- Day 26 -- Queen
Liette, my queen of tea x
Sirvard began by tying on her apron and braiding back her mane. Then she flung open the windows to the kitchen; birdsong floated in on the breeze, the familiar dawn chorus that accompanied the start of her working day. She started the fire in the stove and began to prepare for the morning tea rush. Bocote was outside setting down the chairs and benches, she gave Sirvard a wave and an assuring nod, as if to say 'good luck, you'll need it.'
She sighed. She didn't need luck, she needed to keep her chin up. Something Liette never made easy...
"Sirvard! Sirvard!" Liette came bustling into the kitchen, her shawl pulled about her shoulders, "Child, is that you?" "Yes, Madam. Have you misplaced your--?" "I have misplaced my spectacles." She declared, grumbling to herself, "And we cannot begin until they are returned to their rightful place upon my snout." "Certainly, Madam, where did you last remember taking them off?" "The library, I presume." She scoffed, "Blasted stairs, we need some sort of elevator, a good proper contraption from my home flight. My knees are smarting this morning, child, would you please hurry down and fetch them? They should on my usual desk." "Of course, Madam Liette. I'll be back soon--" "Hurry back soon!" She barked.
Sirvard smiled and huffed to herself as she scampered around the corner and down the central spiral stair case of the lair. Liette could hardly see without her spectacles and now she was losing her hearing. She didn't enjoy have orders yelled at her yet she knew Liette couldn't help it. Her tone was always curt and clipped, many apprentices had apparently quit under her tutelage in the past. Sirvard thought they must have taken up the apprenticeship as an easy ride compared to the hard graft of glassblowing or forging, or the strenuous studies of magic and scrying. Liette would have changed their tune within the first minute.
She passed by many dragons trotting up for their morning tea and breakfast, curious as to where she was going. Many gave her condolences as she explained her situation, poor Sirvard running around for the tea-tyrant.
"She's going grey, she's going loopy, she's mean, she's bitter..."
She put the words out of her mind. Arriving all the way at the bottom of the lair to the labyrinthine library, she began her search. Sirvard knew she always sat by the enchanted fireplace that gave off heat and light but would never singe a book. She found her sturdy wooden chair with a tall back and the oak desk that needed sanding and oiling from years of wear. It was littered with papers. Hundreds of papers in neat, squared piles. Sirvard didn't recognise the handwriting at first, for it was tiny and dainty. The papers seemed to be organised chronologically, or at least, it had been attempted. Some of the dates were out of order and others were slipped into an undated pile of letters and notes. The handwriting grew heavier and wobblier through the decades of notations and it became clear it was her Mistress' own journaling and tasting notes.
Hundreds of descriptions of Camelia species, a commentary on tea as currency through Sornieth's history, perhaps the very first diagram of an electric kettle... Liette had been working all her life to create something as easily dismissed and overlooked as tea. From its cultivation, to its harvest, to the aging, brewing and ceremony that surrounded it.
Sirvard found herself smiling before she felt a pang of sadness. All this time Liette had been working alone to share and conserve this knowledge. She must have spent hours in the library giving herself headaches and cricks in the neck to compile this knowledge.
She quickly went back to her search. The little gold spectacles were under the chair, they must have dropped from her pocket as she left. Sirvard galloped up the stairs two at a time with new found energy. She scurried into the kitchen and presented the Spectacles with a bow to Liette.
"Madam, I just wanted to say, if you ever need my help with anything please let me know! I want to be able to do my best to help in any way I can!" Liette eyed her as she stirred camomile a large pan on the stove, "Don't be presumptuous, you'll wear yourself out if try to throw yourself in all at once." "I am serious, Madam Liette. I saw your work down in the library and I --" "Snooping were we?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sirvard shrank back, perhaps it was a little presumptuous to go rummaging through her notes.
"Bah, those letters are a never-ending burden... I ought to toss them out, but Baglis won't let me." "Please don't!" Sirvard pleaded, placing a paw on her shoulder, "You have so much to share, so much vital insight. I would be so pleased to help compile it together, in fact, I could do it after hours in the evening to spare you coming down to the library, I could help you re-order it and --" "Hold your hippogriffs." She stomped her foot on the ground, "Now I admire your passion, Child, but I can't have you coming in to interfere with my life's work if you're going to admit defeat half way through because you tired yourself out."
"Apologies." Sirvard said, shying away and giving a bow, "I didn't mean to speak out of turn..."
Liette scratched her chin for a moment and sighed, "I could... perhaps... use your help. However, I couldn't let you do it alone. Would you really mind coming to the library some afternoons with this old crone? I know I bicker away at you enough most of the day, you mustn't volunteer if you believe you'd get sick of me..."
"Never." Sirvard grinned, "thank you for the opportunity." "Mmm, very well." Liette went back to her brewing, rumbling to herself about something or other before turning to her apprentice, "And of yes, thank you for my spectacles child..."
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The need for dependable and effective heating systems grows as the seasons shift and the temperature drops. Oil central heating systems have become a popular and efficient option among the range of options offered to many homeowners. In this blog post, we will examine oil central heating, including its benefits, how it operates, and why it is still a reliable way to heat homes. If you are looking for any Oil Central Heating, Boiler Repair Services in Smithtown, Hauppauge, St. James Lake Ronkonkoma Commack, Northport, and Long Island, contact JetAirCo.
#Oil Central Heating Island#Oil Heating Boiler Northport#Oil Central Heating#Boiler Repair Services#New York#USA
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I think the thing that's important for us to remember is that cost volatility is actually all about fossil fuel dependency.
The more that we are dependent on fossil fuels, it means the more we are dependent on global events. As we saw with Russia's invasion of Ukraine, as we see with the choices that come out of the UAE, as well as many other regions of the world, oil and gas development and drilling in Latin America, as well as in the United States. The more dependent we are on oil and gas, the more crazy our prices are going to be, and the more up and down our prices are going to be. And the fact that, for example, we have not developed electric or alternative energy vehicles earlier is one of the reasons why we pay such close attention to gas prices to begin with.
And we would not be as sensitive to the changes in energy costs if we weren't so fossil fuel dependent.
And Donald Trump knows that.
The oil and gas industry knows that.
And that is why they finance huge parts of lobbying our government in order to keep the country entirely dependent on fossil fuels.
Now, if you prefer gas cars and gas stoves, you're free to make that choice.
But what we haven't had is accessible and broad choices for something else. EVs have been in development, but for a very long time, they've been financially inaccessible to a lot of people in this country. The Inflation Reduction Act helped change that. We got huge tax breaks for both new and used EVs. If you're trying to buy one off your neighbor or whatever that may be, as well as many other things that are accessible, whether it's induction stoves, heat pumps for one's home, et cetera. But the oil and gas industry is deploying all of their political and special interest money towards one central goal, which is to keep virtually every American completely dependent on their product.
And Donald Trump is very closely aligned with them.
And not only that, but the larger point is that it's not a coincidence that his authoritarian tactics are tied to fossil fuels.
This is a global phenomenon.
And what we are seeing is authoritarianism is very, very closely linked with oil and gas interests around the world.
That's Putin, that's Trump. That's folks like Bolsonaro. That's a lot of the political instability we see out of Saudi Arabia, the UAE.
And I believe that it is not a coincidence, because you have one central industry that has a clear vested, both political and financial interest, and an authoritarian…that is also increasingly becoming politically unpopular, by the way, because the vast majority of Americans believe that the U.S. should start winding down our subsidization of the fossil fuel industry. They want to see clean energy alternatives available to them and financially accessible to them. And they understand that it's just more volatile to be so chained to fossil fuels.
And so the only way that you can really empower both financially a political sect, is through the fossil fuel industry, the oil and gas industry.
The Koch brothers are an oil and gas dynasty who had such large influence on our political system. They come from an oil and gas dynasty, or rather, came. One of them has passed, there's that, but then you see that link crossing across the world, and the ascent of authoritarianism, paired with the fact that every single one of them is very closely aligned to the fossil fuel industry.
And the ascent of the fossil fuel industry is not a coincidence. It's not a mistake.
And in fact, the democratization of our energy system, which is a means of production that has been privatized and concentrated into the hands of the very few, the democratization of our energy system means that people have the potential. We're doing this in Puerto Rico. When you have a battery pack on your house, when the power goes out, you're not as dependent on a central system. You have a backup reserve in case of an emergency, you can give energy to your neighbor.
This is what the democratization of our energy system looks like.
This is also what a fairer economic system that is less volatile for everyday people looks like as well.
And that is a direct threat to authoritarianism.
It's a direct threat to the extreme concentration of wealth in the hands of the very few.
But it also represents a shift for the betterment of mankind and our democracy.
—Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, noting the link between the fossil fuel industry and authoritarian regimes
#politics#aoc#alexandria ocasio cortez#authoritarianism#fossil fuels#green energy#gnd#green new deal#capitalism#renewable energy#solar power#green power#gas and oil#fossil fuel dependency
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Yall young people have so much to look forwards.
Yeah, if you're environmentally and ecologically conscientous, it has never been a better time. Do you know why we didn't already have electric cars?
It's not because of some massive coverup and greedy oily oil barons. The energy barons have always maintained desire to invest in and reap benefits from anything that reaps dividends. Energy will always reap dividends. Renewable energy, if even worth investing in, will reap dividends like the expensive, hard process of mining and drilling for oil and then refining and selling it.
It's because the technology and the science simply wasn't there. Not enough to practically and economically provide for our needs. When you see people screaming about how "It already existed!! We just need to.. rethink our needs!" You've likely come across someone that takes a radically bad stance on exactly what an individual's needs are.
There exists a kind of crunchy, borderline totalitarian asshole that, believe it or not, isn't the usual kind of totalitarian asshole, which is often associated with the right wing and Nazis! This totalitarian asshole asks, "What does a person need, really?" And their answer is, "An overarching state and society to govern for The People, and provide for them what has been determined to be their Needs."
When they say, The People, they don't mean you and your individual requirements. They mean the abstract, conceptual, platonic Man, the conceptual human person, and then they ignore you and try to interact with this conceptual ideal. And then they determine how to ration for you. They'll demand you conform to their plan, and then maybe you'll get X amount of a thing to live on, no more no less, as they brag about providing for The People.
Shortages will inevitably happen from this approach, and then you'll survive on half of that, which has been determined to be your new needs. That's the sort of person that thinks you can survive on X-much of resources, if only they can huddle you and a hundred other someodd people onto public transportation that operates on a timer and engineer cities to have a maximum capacity (which will inevitably be overcapacity as more people than they expected arrive to exist there) and their carefully conceived brave new world where they've used shitty math to shortchange people comes back to bite everybody.
Need housing? They deign to stick you into a locker sized Chinese style apartment and think, great, I've created livable housing for millions of people in the same space as used to house hundreds! Yay me!
Need food? Oh, simple; they'll just feed you food that's as simple as possible and emphasize vegetables because they're non-controversial and don't require as complicated a growing cycle or as messy as what happens when their needs aren't met and there's cruelty or unsanitary conditions to worry about. No one goes to court advocating on behalf of pumpkins. So, "wouldn't it just be easier if you were vegetarian or vegan? Your needs would be so much easier to mee! C:"
That sort of person believes if you just "make personal choices" to be as low maintenance and nonmobile and rock eating as possible, the little electrical power generated for transportation and heating and keeping the lights on should be enough to design a whole society around NOW! Don't you want that!? Me neither.
This is why we didn't switch to 100% renewables. The technology and science just does not exist, yet. Yes if we have absurd amounts of (currently toxic, currently difficult to develop and acquire components for solar cells) solar power, we're going to use it, but outside of using giant flywheels or liquid salt heat batteries to power things when the sun isn't shining, we just do not have base load coverage for the needs of society without shortchanging and radically redefining society and how it functions.
The way they would propose society to function is very centralized, top down and authoritarian. That does not meet our needs for personal liberty. But they don't care about that.
And this is important, because the science and technology ARE creeping up to the minimum by which we'll be able to generate enough mega or giga amps required for every individual person. We finally will have the battery capacity to actually store and DO something with all that renewable and nuclear fission derived power!
THAT is the secret sauce, people under 25. THAT is the beauty of this era! It isn't that humanity is "finally sloughing off the yoke of the aristocrats." It's that the actual science and technology is close to fruition where it isn't a violation of physics and entropy to actually have nigh infinite, free electrical power, without either polluting the atmosphere with particulates until it's unbreathable mess, polluting the land and sea until everything dies in the eco-system, or trying to live "within the means" of what renewables can do and rationing our power consumption to one hour a day.
Just having the ability to switch out a fuel powered jet engine with a rechargable solid state battery for turbofan jet engined flight, just having electrically driven boats, we save so much pollution and inefficient energy consumption from even happening. I can't emphasize enough just how big a game changer sufficiently powerful and capacitied batteries are and how essential they are to address power needs.
They change EVERYTHING. They make it possible so residential solar and wind can charge up a house battery, making it possible to function with emergency energy during hard times. They make it possible to outperform internal combustion engines by just simply not consuming enormous amounts of power while idling in traffic. They make transporting power easy peasy, rather than using large pipes or driving it on trains or truck convoys to deliver it.
You kind of came in at the last second of the game and you're probably horrified at the prospects of the world just plain collapsing from climate change and pollution. The Greta Thunbergs of the world didn't help, and then the reactionary Andrew Tates performing by arguing with them really didn't help.
Alternatives to plastic that either are biodegradable or actually recyclable have been developing since the 90s. Plasma wands for particulate free garbage incineration have been available for some time, dealing with our toxic materials can't go in incinerator problems. Heavy metals and carcinogen pollutant areas can be cleaned via use of specific kinds of grubs and earthworms, which rend the materials inert. Biodegradable biomass can be handled before it becomes methane, or the methane captured and put to use.
The biggest alarmists promising unless we "radically do something NOW" are often the kinds of people that believe if you'd just surrender personal autonomy, personal liberty, personal mobility, expectations of actually having a home of your own to live in, then they could have their Brave New World they want. They hate nuclear power because, "it's not radically upsetting to the status quo enough."
It's important to realize solutions are either there, or have been worked on since decades before you were born and either are already being employed, are in the process of getting employed, or are almost ready for the system to capitalize on and solve big problems. And the people screaming about how "no one is doing anything/ they're doing nothing because of greed/ short sighted selfishness" have a very particular bridge to sell you.
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Dracula Daily - May 3: Chicken Paprikash!
Welcome boils and ghouls to another year of Dracula Daily. It is the 3rd of May, and as our dear friend Jonathan treks his way across Central Europe, bound for ominous castle of Count Dracula, we encounter the first real star of this most foundational gothic novel: a spicy chicken dish fixed up with paprika. That's right, everyone! It's time for Chicken Paprikash!
Earlier this week, most of you (or at least I'm assuming most of you, because holy cow did a lot of y'all pile in after I posted it) will recall my guide to gathering the ingredients for this most essential of Dracula Daily Dinners. Tonight, we will discuss it's preparation, and whether or not the deviations I have made from the previous cycles rendition will pay off or not. So, if you've got those pots and pans ready, let's go!
Lets begin with the equipment you'll need for preparing Chicken Paprikash.
All the usual suspects are here. Knives, cutting board, some whisks and woodem spoons, a couple of bowls for ingredients. But the real stars of this show are going to be a large dutch oven, and a large building pot. Examples of these can be see in the photo above.
Once you have all your equipment ready, it's time to move on to the most annoying part of every dinner. It's time for...
Part One: Mise En Place
Cooking can be hard, or cooking can be easy. It all depends on how well prepared you are. If you have everything you need ready beforehand, actually cooking the meal can be a breeze. Sadly, this process will usually take up most of the time you spend making dinner. Is it worth the peace of mind later on? Probably, but I've never passed up a chance to gripe.
So, what all must we prepare for our Chicken Paprikash. Let's make a list:
Roughly 2 Pounds of Chicken Thights (salted preferably 1-4 hours beforehand)
2 Cups of Chicken Broth (or Stock)
2 Medium Yellow Onions (Chopped or Diced, to your preference)
2 Roma Tomatoes (Diced this time, with their seeds removed)
2 Hungarian Wax Peppers (Diced as well, be sure to remove those seeds unless you want to go for a ride like dear Jonathan)
2 Cloves of Garlic (Minced) (Don't let your desire to protect yourself from the undead lead you to add more, garlic is one of those flavors that can radically alter a dish in only small quantities)
About half a stick of butter (Though for this task you could substitute with some kind of oil or lard. Lard will make this dish even more rich, but butter is the easier option.)
3/4 Cup of Full Fat Sour Cream
1/4 Cup of Heavy Whipping Cream (make sure to shake your carton beforehand, this stuff gets clumpy if it's left undisturbed)
3 Tablespoons of All Purpose Flour
4 Tablespoons of Sweet Hungarian Paprika + 1 Tablespoon of Hot Hungarian Paprika (Stirred together for ease later on)
Salt + Pepper (To your liking)
1 Bag of Spaetzle
With all this completed, it's time to get started in earnest
Part Two - Get Cooking
Alright, with all our ingredients in hand, its finally time to start cooking.
The very first thing we're going to do is brown our chicken thighs. Set your dutch oven over a large burner, and get the heat up high. When ready, turn the heat down to medium or medium-high. This change is important, unless you want to smoke out your kitchen. Remember, smoky paprika is great, but nobody likes smoky dry wall.
Once you've prepared your pot, and lightly brushed your thighs with a high heat cooking oil (I prefer avocado) begin to brown them. Lay your thighs skin-side down for 45 seconds to 1 minute. Any longer than this risks burning the skin. Repeat in batches until all your chicken thighs have a nice crispy exterior.
(Sadly, this is where the demonstration photos stop. Turns out, a breezier cooking schedule doesn't leave much time for snappy pictures.)
Once you've brown your thighs, remove them and set them aside. Now, it's time for the real corner stones of this dish. Take that half a stick of butter you have sitting around, and give it a good swirl around the bottom of the Dutch oven. As the butter melts (this will be very quick, so you must act accordingly) do everything you can to scrape up the delicious fond left over from browning your chicken. This residue will add flavor to our dish.
The moment your butter has fully liquified, and coated the whole bottom of your dutch oven, add in your onions. These we will stur around and fry until they are a nice golden brown. You can use this time as well to keep scraping up that fond on the bottom of the pot. Make sure to keep the heat on medium throughout.
Once your onions are nice golden brown, add your tomatoes and hungarian wax peppers. Stir these around with the onions and allow to cook for 2-3 minutes. When you begin to approach the last 45-30 seconds, add in your garlic, and cook until fragrant, but not a moment longer.
This next step is crucial. Remove your dutch oven from the heated burner, and allow to cool for roughly 3 minutes. Paprika is something of a tender spice, and it scorches very easily when heat is applied to it. Once the pot is no longer smoking hot, stir in the combined Paprika, and give it a good mix around all the ingredients in the pot. When you have finished, return the dutch oven to the heated burner.
Return your chicken thighs to the pot, and pour in the 2 cups of chicken broth. The thighs should not be entirely covered, but mostly. Bring the pot to a boil, and once boiling, cover, reduce the heat to medium-low, and allow to simmer for a little under an hour, about 40 minutes.
Now, while this is happening, we will prepare our dairy thickener. In a bowl, mix the sour cream, heavy whipping cream, and flower. I prefer to use a tiny whisk for this task, as it does a very good job of moving through every part of the mixture, and combating any clumps from forming. A normal whisk should still work.
While you wait, you're going to pour about a quart of water into that steel pot, and bring to a boil. About 28 minutes from the completion of the paprikash, stir in your spaetzle to the boiling water. Allow to sit, undisturbed for roughly half an hour.
Once the 40 minutes are up, once again remove your chicken from the pot, and remove the dutch oven from the heat. Allow to cool once more, which will prevent your dairy mixture from curdling. Once cool, mix in the cream. Return the chicken to the Dutch oven, place the cover back on, and allow to heat through. About another 5-10 minutes.
And just like that, we're done! Now, let's find out how we did, shall we?
Part Three - Paprikash
This is how mine turned out. And I'm happy to report that my experimentation payed off! The heat really comes through this time, creating that good warming feeling you should get from chicken paprikash. The paprika is warm and smoky, and the chicken is tender and delicious. I'd never had spaetzel before, but I really liked it. It's still not as spicy as our good friend Jonathan described, but I think it's time that I stop differing to the opinions of a 22 year-old English orphan when it comes to any kind of cuisine.
The August Kessler Spatburgunder (Pinot Noir) proved to be an excellent pairing. The wine possesses a splendid earthiness, and it makes a beautiful partner for that smoky paprika flavor.
Well, that about does it for this year's Chicken Paprikash. Did you make Paprikash this year? How did it turn out? Anyway, I'll be making a dedicated effort to make more conversational posts with the program this year, and I cannot wait to discover what rocks we'll turn over this time around.
Join me on Sunday when we'll be diving into Tokaji, the Hungarian desert wine Dracula serves to Jonathan Harker at the end of his, if I may, strange journey.
Happy Dracula Daily, Everyone!
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[ID: A close-up on a dish with glossy noodles, spinach, carrot, mushroom, and sesame seeds. End ID]
잡채 / Japchae (Korean noodle stir-fry)
Japchae is a popular Korean dish made with glass noodles. Sweet potato starch noodles are fried in a flavorful sauce, combined with colorful, tender-crisp vegetables, and dressed with sesame; the result is chewy, savory, garlicky, slightly sweet, and highly satisfying. Because of its versatility and the ease of preparing large batches, japchae is frequently served for banquets at weddings and birthday celebrations.
"Japchae" is a compound of "잡" "jap" "mixed," and "채" "chae" "vegetables"; both syllables are Korean readings of Chinese characters ("雜" and "菜"). Like the name, modern japchae dishes combine Chinese and Korean elements: the cellophane noodles now considered central to the dish originated as a Chinese import towards the end of the 20th century. From the 17th century until then, japchae had been a royal court dish consisting only of stir-fried vegetables (frequently mushrooms, cucumber and radish).
Japchae, along with other Korean foods, is becoming more prevalent in the Philippines and Malaysia, by way of privately owned Korean restaurants usually owned by migrants. Dr. Gaik Cheng Khoo writes that, despite the South Korean government's campaign to promote the globalization of hansik (한식; Korean food), it is these independent restaurateurs who actually engage in Korean "gastrodiplomacy" by interfacing with clients in their particular contexts.
Recipe under the cut!
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Ingredients:
For the dish:
8oz (230g) 당면 / dangmyeon (Korean sweet potato starch noodles)
1 medium carrot, cut into a thick julienne
1 small yellow onion, sliced
2-3 green onions, cut into 2" pieces
6oz fresh spinach
1 cup (65g) sliced shiitake or wood ear mushrooms
4oz beef substitute of choice, or 1/2 cup (30g) soya chunks (chunky TVP)
1 clove garlic, chopped
Neutral oil, to fry
Sesame seeds, to garnish
Both dangmyeon (which may be also labelled "sweet potato vermicelli") and soya chunks / nutra chunks (from a brand such as Nutrela) may be found at an Asian grocery store.
For the sauce:
2 cloves garlic, grated
4 Tbsp Korean soy sauce
2-3 Tbsp brown sugar, to taste
2 Tbsp toasted sesame oil
1/2 tsp ground black pepper, or to taste
For the marinade:
1/2 cup vegetarian 'beef' stock from concentrate, or vegetable stock (only if using nutra chunks, which need to be hydrated)
1 tsp dark soy sauce
1/2 tsp brown sugar
1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil
Instructions:
1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, prep your vegetables and mix all ingredients for the sauce and marinade.
2. Mix beef substitute and all marinade ingredients to coat.
3. Once the water is boiling, blanch the spinach for 30 seconds to a minute, until bright green. Drain and shock in cold water. Squeeze out excess water, roughly chop, and dress with a bit of salt.
4. In the same water, boil sweet potato noodles for 6-8 minutes, until translucent and softened. A firm pinch should break the noodle.
5. When noodles are fully cooked, drain and shock in cold water to halt cooking. Cut them in a few places with kitchen scissors to make them easier to eat. Toss with a bit of sesame oil to prevent sticking.
6. While noodles are cooking, begin stir-frying the vegetables. Heat 1 tsp oil in a medium skillet on high. Stir-fry carrots, onion, and a pinch of salt for a minute or two until slightly softened.
7. Set aside and add more oil to the pan; stir-fry mushrooms for a couple minutes until they have released their water. Add garlic and sauté until fragrant.
8. Add green onion and cook for 30 seconds to a minute; do not allow it to soften too much. Set aside.
9. If using nutra chunks: drain and reserve liquid. Fry for a minute on high, agitating often, to brown. Pour in the rest of the marinade and cook until dry. If using another beef substitute: fry according to package directions.
10. Heat another Tbsp of neutral oil in a large skillet and add in noodles and about half of the prepared sauce. Stir fry, tossing often, until fragrant. Remove to a bowl and stir in vegetables, beef, and the rest of the prepared sauce. Garnish with sesame seeds and serve warm.
Leftovers may be served hot or cold, as a side dish or a main, or over rice.
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"When the British Empire occupied Palestine and set about implementing the Balfour declaration, the fossil fuel of the day was not coal. It was oil. Promising deposits had been located in the countries bordering the Persian Gulf, and the central industrial project of the Mandate came to be the pipeline that brought crude oil all the way from Iraq, across the northern West Bank and the Galilee, to the refinery of Haifa. The Mandate as such cannot be understood outside the deepening control over the region in the pursuit of oil; and the Mandate used oil to reallocate land from Palestinians to Jews. In his forthcoming Heat: A History, a wonderfully rich history of high temperatures and fossil fuels in the Middle East, On Barak shows, among many other things, how the Yishuv wrested citrus production from Palestinians by linking up with the most modern circuits of technology: irrigating their orchards with fossil-fuelled pumps, loading their fruits on lorries, sending them over roads to ports, offloading them onto steamers to the European market – a symbiosis with the fossil empire by which the natives could be squeezed out of their iconic citriculture. The Mandate authorities systematically privileged the building of roads between colonies. Oil-based infrastructure tilted Palestine in the direction of the settlements on the coastal plains and further towards their patrons on the other side of the ocean."
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