Podcasts about Albanian

A US aircraft carrier strike group has arrived in the Caribbean, putting president Trump’s peace through strength mantra to the test. Then: how hard is it to report on the Pentagon after the press corps clear-out? Plus: Meloni battles for her Albanian immigration plans and is soft power still effective?See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 27 Appreciation? In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             Children must face the scrutiny of their parents     The Dining Hall was almost a relief. That relief died the moment I saw the banner over the front of the serving area in the Hall. 'Zane Appreciation Day'. Since every word was spelled correctly, it wasn't some stunt of Rio's, but beyond that, the list of suspects was too large to consider. This could be a genuine outpouring of acceptance and sympathy for what I had endured here. If you believe that, I have to ask you: 'Do you want your leprechaun pissing Guinness or Irish Malt?'   Most likely, this was going to be some sort of humiliation, and I think I knew the flavor, and I definitely knew how to find out. See, in every seat of the Dining Hall was a big, bowling ball sized white box with a name and secured with a gold and green ribbon, so no cheating; no peeking. That last bit didn't deter me, though. I snuck up on the box marked for Holiday Carpenter.   "Zane, does that have your name on it?" Virginia Goodswell asked me, my English teacher and Spiritual Advisor. Hell, if it had been Mrs. Marlowe, I would have opened it anyway, but Virginia was my buddy so her next question didn't mean to stab a stake of regret through my heart. "Where is Vivian?"   "I left my room before she was done." I looked to the ground while I kicked some imaginary dust off the slate floor.   "Why don't you see if she's been calling you?" she suggested. "She's probably worried." Worried, or homicidal because, ya know, I had sort of run off without my phone, wallet, watch, book bag, or anything else a 21st century student might need.   "I ran away like a big, fat chicken," I confessed. "Anything not glued to my body I left behind."   "I'll give her a call." She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial #2. I crap since her sick mother is probably #1. I am such a big problem for her, she has my guardian on speed dial! "That is Holiday Carpenter's box, Zane, not yours. Besides, there are strict instructions to not open the boxes until instructed."   The panicky response I overheard from Virginia's conversation with Vivian hardly helped my mood. She wanted to know if Virginia knew where I was, she did; that I was okay, I was; and finally, what upset me, because the other girls weren't talking but apparently Mercy had started slapping Barbie Lynn around until Rio and Val pulled her off. Now, that made less than no sense. Wasn't that supposed to work the other way around?   Virginia did a double check and sure enough, Mercy had slammed Barbie Lynn into an open wardrobe on my behalf, and Rio and Val had pulled her back. WTF! I am sure that Rio was right beside me on that one. Vivian triple checked that I was physically and mentally okay and she sounded so disappointed, in herself, as she did so. She was bringing my stuff; yes, I am an earthworm. Virginia promised for me that I would remain here until she arrived.   Some stupid gesture like a loud public apology, done on bended knee, was blatantly unfair to Vivian, who only meant the best for me. I made a quick apology, not trying to meet her eyes as I said the words and took my stuff. All of 'my' girls seemed equally subdued. A minute after we had garnered our victuals, Vivian put a hand on my elbow.   "Don't be so hard on yourself, Zane," Vivian smiled warmly at me. "You take a lot of stress and pressure on yourself. I understand that from time to time you need to take in a tiny bit of private space for yourself. Clearly, you can't schedule any such time because nothing around you stays a secret for very long and no one respects your privacy or even asks what you need."   "Vivian," I was puzzled, "you deserve to be righteously pissed with me. You are my Guardian and I promised to stay by you or at least tell you where I was."   "Zane, we let you down," Vivian assured me. "It is your dorm room and we are your guests, and we have been rather poor guests at that."   "How about we call a truce?" I offer.   "I can live with that," Vivian smiled.   "Cut the Kumbaya-time, kids," Rio snorted derisively. "Zane, what the fuck happened with Mercy?" Rio playfully punched Mercy's arm to emphasize her uncertainty.   "Rio, Bro, drop it," I asked sincerely. "Act like it didn't happen." Rio studied me a second, then got this wickedly evil grin.   "What the hell are you talking about, Glenda?" she hefted the box up then shook it. "It seems my damn box is glued shut. Are we celebrating one thousand cunts licked by you, or what?"   Because Rio rarely expounded at a level below full volume, next thing we hear is Mrs. Marlow snapping, "Ms. Talon, watch your language; there are good Christian women being forced to sit within the sound of your voice!"   "Gotcha, Ms. Mouthful," Rio snapped off with a snap and a finger raised up like a pistol in the air.   "What did you say?" Marlowe closed the distance.   "She was repeating what I pointed out," I turned and smiled. "I said that you really had it going together this morning; that you were more than a mouthful. That's a hip/trending term to describe someone who is expressing themselves through clothing and make-up."   "You are lying, Mr. Braxton," she snarled.   "You are probably right, as I do so to you on general principle, but good luck proving it in student court," I grinned right back. We locked wills and she blinked first.   "Ms. Phillips," Marlowe turned on Vivian, "what are you going to do about this?"   "Zane and Rio, would you please apologize for being rude and insensitive to an educator who only wishes the best for the student body?" Vivian requested.   "I so apologize," I bowed my head.   "I so apologize as well," Rio tacked on. Only after Marlowe had gone to spread love and sunshine somewhere else did Rio lean across me and whisper to Vivian.   "You rock!" Rio giggled gleefully. After all, Rio and I had not apologized to Mrs. Marlowe because neither one of us believed for a minute that she was 'an educator who only wishes the best for the student body'. To that nameless entity, we owed a debt, and to Mrs. Marlow we owed a generous 'fuck you,' and Vivian had made it all possible.   "Why, thank you, Rio," Vivian nodded her acceptance of Rio's praise. "Jesus is the Peacemaker and we all should attempt to emulate his teachings."   "So, I still don't get to lick you senseless?" Rio snickered.   "No, no, you don't," Vivian smiled, even though she didn't look at either of us. Vivian's going to rock as a mom.   The next half hour passed quietly. Everyone was curious about the boxes but no one was too worried until a rumor suddenly appeared. When it was suggested that they might have to put on bikinis, the fear set in. I blamed, I don't know but I wish I had thought of it. I was still kicking myself for the missed opportunity when my alien with the right face black and left face white shows up with the right face white and left face black, Mhain and Millicent.   "Death Match and you get to referee," Rio teased me. "I'm so jealous; 500 bucks on the one with the soul." Mhain glared hate at us while Millicent looked more than amused.   "Zane, come with us," Mhain gloated. I figured that somehow my ordeal was coming to an end so I'd play along. I rose and they steered me to the largest exit, flanking me.   Christina and Company grabbed their boxes and jumped up quickly to follow me, though they looked as confused as I was, confirming none of them were the architect of my discomfort. No sooner had we stepped into the cool, sunlit lawn than everyone's phone rang, except mine. I was loving this, right up there with having sandpaper buffing my sunburned abs.   "Open the box and follow the instructions," Christina informed me. "Is anyone going to do this?" My phone vibrated once, then my whole body tingled before I could respond to the call.   "I am," Mhain gloated. "I was promised something." She knelt and opened her box with enthusiasm; the others did likewise but at a more sedate pace.   What came out of each box was almost identical, different only in the anatomical part of the body indicated by the instructions. The objects were all grapefruit-sized fur-balls that made darling little squeaks, squeals and murmurs, amongst other sympathetic noises, all in tiny little voices. They were to be placed on my body, but I didn't know how that would work.   "Are we going to do this?" Chastity began to say.   "It isn't sticky," Hope was also saying when Mhain's flew out of her hand and hit the side of my left knee. She reached out carefully to retrieve hers while the other girls circled in. The little darlings were proving to be resilient little bastards. Several more leapt at me from the hands of their owners.   All this time the furry grapefruit were giving little 'wee!' noises when they shot at me and screeched like demons when they were removed, which was painful when they were on my flesh. I knew who was responsible and she was going to pay, but not right now. I saw my closest allies pulling back.   "TLM, Christina," I sighed in resignation. "Let's get this over with." I was being totally self-sacrificial; girls were starting to pile-up on us coming out of the Dining Hall. I didn't want a riot. Mhain had technically tagged me first but not in the designated spot, so I had Christina go first, she put one over my heart, not that I thought Cordelia was stupid, but now she was just piling it on.   Mhain went next and she was sizzling and excited, she put it on my lips, shutting me up. At least the girls were polite and organized enough to come at me patiently. A few didn't get the 'memo' and their little rug rats slipped out of their owner's grasp and got to play gleeful kamikaze as they plowed into me.   It didn't hurt but I had this secret fear that the tiny terrors would sprout fangs and tear into me. These little guys were murmuring and mumbling and it wasn't until I was truly buried that a horrific realization was made, the more that were on me, the greater their clinging power. In retrospect, this would have been more useful if we hadn't passed the 700 mark.   I looked like a puffy, overweight, Sasquatch baby. I could move but sitting down was a dream, as was running or going to the bathroom. The damn things wouldn't shut up either. It fell to Hope and Iona to hurry me (as much as possible) to Assembly; you know that place where I 'sit' in front. At least no one could ask me anything with the expectation of receiving an answer.   I no longer wondered how bad it could get; I knew it would get worse, and while I didn't know how, I knew it would be soon. At the start of Assembly my little friends joined in the singing, not using words but in the tinny little noises they made, though admittedly they were enthusiastic and determined. But it gets worse.   There was a discussion on stage after that fiasco about removing me. Chancellor Bazz wanted me gone; Vice Chancellor Scarlett was not in attendance but Virginia took up my cause. After all, it wasn't my fault, she claimed.   "Well, Black, do something," the first three rows heard Bazz demand of our Head of Security.   "I am not an engineer or a chemist," Black replied. "Do you want me to shoot them off him?"   Oh, yeah, my girl Bazz wanted that, so bad. Of course, what she really wanted was for Black to miss, but that wasn't going to happen. Finally, the teachers decided to soldier on. When Chancellor Bazz stepped up to begin services, the frightening fur-balls belted out 'Hail to the Chief.'   No one said a word, not a murmur. Chancellor Bazz stopped and the munchkin chorus stopped too. Two more starts later and she gave up and grudgingly took the 'praise' from my infestation. They were good throughout the message and sermon but took up 'Hail to the Chief' when she tried to leave the podium.   "Do something!" she screamed at Black. This time, Gabrielle sedately headed my way. I didn't want to think of the pain coming my way. My little buddies had my back. When she got within five feet the all screamed, and I mean SCREAMED, in the loudest cacophony most of us present had ever heard. I saw something I thought I would never see; Gabrielle flinched.   Not so oddly, I was fine, hearing almost nothing. The little guys on my ears soaked up the sound so I received a very watered-down version of what they were doing. Gabrielle fell back and at the five foot mark, the little guys shut up, mostly. They seemed to be making comforting noises to one another, like one Zane-sized colony of brown mold.   "Get away from him; just get away from him," good old Doctor Melrose Bazz pleaded as she moved her hands away from her ears. "Braxton, you stop this right now." I had a wee beastie on my mouth and Bazz was not on the small list of people I would devour this thing for. If she's looking for a conversation today, she's out of luck. She throws her hands up in desperation and starts to storm off. My little cock-sucking furry gonads (yes, I was getting angry) fired up 'Hail to the Chief' yet again, and kept at it until she sat down. Virginia got to thinking it's appropriate to call for the end of this travesty but she's dealing with Cordelia Dresden, Top Gun of the Time Lord Mafia. The weapon of choice; 'She's a Lady' by some guy named Tom Jones, the ladies in my life will inform me about this later.   For a half a second she tries to fight her smile but she surrenders, even letting the little guys go through the entire score before talking. The little tinny voices were humming a song I didn't know but damn it, it made me want to take Virginia out to a smoky Jazz club and dance until the sun came up. Virginia actually started tapping her foot to rhythm and I began thinking I might not be able to beat Cordelia. I'm not used to that sensation.   "Okay, now, whoever is doing this has put Zane through enough and should remember that we should, as Christians, make students feel safe and not make them subjects of humiliation," Virginia addressed the student body. "I think we can end Assembly fifteen minutes early today for a little bit of Christian charity. We can do it at Zane's first class, 204 Denning Hall."   By the way, I apparently have a play list. As Virginia headed back, the fella's changed it up with 'Baby Got Back'. I wanted to die. Virginia Goodswell has a truly fine ass, of this there is no doubt, I often compare it to Barbie Lynn's, but please. Virginia stopped, turned toward me with a dazzling smile and waggled her finger at me, then resumed her way to her seat.   How is any of this my fault? I imagine I was lucky it wasn't the Thong Song. I would have died, then come back as the undead to take Cordelia to hell with me. It was with some relief that Vivian and Hope rallied to my side. They had to both keep other students away, the other girls loved poking me in different critters to make them call out in different pitches and tenors, which was pleasant to hear if you liked overdosing on helium.   Surprise, surprise; no one came to my succor before English class. I couldn't sit down. Okay, I tried, but any part of my body that bent or that I sat on screamed bloody murder until I got off of it or stopped putting on the press. I've heard about girlfriends like this but I've always assumed I would have the courage to jump out of a 50 story building to escape.   What do you do if they come with you when you jump besides basking in the vicarious thrill that comes from crushing half of them beneath you before you go? I managed to do okay standing in the rear of the class, only once giving in to the crushing fatigue of holding my arms somewhat elevated for two hours. The two under my arms were especially cooperative and didn't get too vocal when my arms did slip to my sides.   I couldn't do a thing about the occasional girl twisting in her seat but either Raven's glare or Goodswell's cough brought their eyes forward once more. At the end of class, Virginia decided to call Ms. Black and have her take me to the Vice Chancellor's office to end this matter. Vivian and Mercy provided support while Gabrielle kept her distance and cleared a path.   Rio helped out by playing my musical miscreants as if they were a drum set while some part of the 700 members of my new posse and I yelled at her to leave us alone. She really is my best friend. My tragically slow pace was not my friend and everyone had to depart for their classes before I finished the arduous travel to the Administration Building. Gabrielle's eyes measuring you for a casket is a remarkable motivator but didn't stop Rio from blowing a kiss to her "Mi Negro Naughtiness". I know, I know; one day, Rio is just going to vanish without a trace.   "Ms. Reveal, I need an emergency meeting with the Vice Chancellor," Ms. Black requested of Doctor Scarlett's personal assistant. Ms. Reveal didn't miss Gabrielle keeping her distance from me. She did make the call and I noticed the pictures of Ms. Mittens were still in evidence.   "Who are you inside that suit?" Ms. Reveal asked me.   I guess she assumed I wasn't a real baby Sasquatch; I was really a baby Sasquatch disguised as a half-baked marshmallow. If three geeks and a man working beneath his means jump out at me with proton-packs, I am running for my life, which is to say 'I'm going to die.'   "This is Zane. He is not being rude, he can't speak," Ms. Black was kind enough to cover for me.   "Oh, I understand," Ms. Reveal nodded, but in such a way that expressed she didn't understand anything. "You two can go in now," she said several awkward seconds later.   "Zane, you move as close to Ms. Reveal's desk as you can while I get the door for you," Gabrielle instructed me. "Come in when I call for you."   I'm sure Marisol Reveal was curious as to why Gabrielle was dancing around me, trying to keep her distance. We almost made it; right as she made it to the doorway, Doctor Scarlett opened the door and attempted to see what the delay was. She was actually putting an award on a shelf she had just received, the reason she missed Assembly, if you find that suspicious, and was placing it on a shelf near the door.   Gabrielle responded as any slightly unbalanced killer would do; she spun around, pulled out her gun from the unseen Realm of the Gods of War, and pointed it at the stunned Victoria. That took her one half-step too close to me and my little fellas let the world know it. I will give them this much; they were still defending my eardrums.   By the way Marisol was holding her ears as her tears flowed down her face it must have been pure agony for her since I was right next to her. Gabrielle scoped up Victoria and sprinted into her office and they obediently shut up.   "Za-, Zane, what was that?" Marisol blathered. Since the furry meatball gone bad was still on my lips and I hadn't become that hungry, I kept my silence.   "Zane!" Gabrielle called for me. I did my best to shrug but it wasn't like I had a neck anymore so I don't know what she made of my movement. I shuffled to the door and got a few good squeaks as I moved inside. I was more than a little disturbed by the reaction I received from Doctor Scarlett when she saw me from her seat behind her desk. She looked at me and I swear, hand to my heart, she had an orgasm.   "You are covered in Tribbles," she gasped. I had no fucking clue what a Tribble is but apparently, I was in the vast minority. I staggered forward and since Gabrielle was on the right side of the room, I angled to the left. I move halfway around Doctor Scarlett's desk so that Gabrielle could go close the door, where she took up post and, from what happened next engaged a Romulan Cloaking Device, whatever the Muggle-tech that is.   Victoria was in some sort of dream-like trance. When she started stumbling around the desk toward me, I waited for the musical assault that never came. To my credit, I caught on in a second. If these creatures existed, singing wasn't their normal activity, and Cordelia wanted these little 'Squeaky Meals' to be as real as possible, for Victoria. I was nothing but bait.   Victoria reached out to caress the same one Christina had placed over my heart. The little bugger cooed and Victoria clamped her thighs together to contain another orgasm that coursed through her loins. Cool, all I have to do to feel the wonders of Victoria Scarlett is dress myself in furry grapefruit. I'm kicking myself for not seeing this obvious ploy.   She touches more and each makes a subtly different purr of pleasure. This goes on and on until she's cuddled up against me, her arms stroking over my back and rubbing her left leg up and down mine.   "Vice Chancellor, you do realize Zane Braxton is TRAPPED inside those, contraptions," Gabrielle sounds the slightest bit peeved.   The troops all make those little high-pitched notes of longing as Victoria retreats a few steps, bringing Victoria almost to the point where she launches herself back into me to comfort her little friends. I am second fiddle to a discombobulated guinea pig; sometimes a man can feel pretty small.   "Okay. How did this happen to you, Zane?" Victoria asked.   "He cannot talk; one of those Tribbles is attached to his lips," Black stated, "by an unknown force. Before you ask; I am not an engineer or chemist." Victoria made this adorable little 'o' expression, then reached for an offending Tribble.   "It hurts him to remove them," Gabrielle got out just in time.   "Does it hurt the Tribble?" Victoria inquired. Gee, thanks, Vic.   "Hold your ears," Gabrielle commanded. Well, I couldn't comply, and Victoria had only started to scream 'stop' when Gabrielle materialized a knife and speared 'Diddley-boo' off my shoulder.   I heard the little guy's death wail, then his death rattle, as Gabrielle pulled him/her away until she was out of screaming range. Diddley-boo? No, I have no idea what his/her name really was but I'm going to have ICE check his immigration status when all of this is over, wait, I can't do that; Gabrielle wacked the little snot and giving her up to the Feds is a great way to create many widows and orphans. Diddley-boo was still twitching erratically while Victoria was stuck between ecstasy and horror.   "You are a Klingon agent!" Victoria gasped as she pointed an accusatory finger at Gabrielle. I am vaguely aware that they are the stock-villains of Star Trek Universe and this odd snapshot of rightly tight, athletic buns in tighter pants, but the reference memory for the scene escapes me. By the facial reaction Gabrielle gives, Victoria just called candy sweet, or jalapenos hot; she appreciates the comparison.   All the surviving members of the Tribble tribe wept a cacophony of pain and loss. I would have had more sympathy if their moans had not been vibrating my body like a jello mold.   "Romulan," Gabrielle countered; the other stock Trekkie villains, but they have better teeth. First amongst our Honored Dead, DB hardly quivers as Ms. Black dissects it.   It bleeds/oozes and appears to be a living organism of some kind, but Gabrielle points to several electronic devices, a CPU, and wires connecting all kinds of things inside the organic body.   "It is an organic husk over a sensory/auditory device," Gabrielle tried to explain.   "Oh, my God," Victoria's mind worked feverish to defy reality, "they've been turned into Borgs."   She tore the one attached to my lips off. I didn't cry like a televangelist publicly begging God for forgiveness for a moment, or 147 moments, of weakness with a rather sad-looking prostitute, but that was coming.   You see, Victoria gripped her weeping diminutive fuzzy engine of humiliation tightly when she yanked it off, so she let go of it because the little blighter sounded hurt.   It gave off a more muted and mournful 'wee' as it smacked into the corner of my mouth. I was able to dodge a direct hit.   "Scarlett," Gabrielle seethed, "if, you, would, listen, for, a, moment; they are painful to be removed from his flesh and they will attempt to reattach themselves to him if they are brought within one foot. I have no idea why."   "Zane, are you in much pain?" Doctor Scarlett inquired while scanning my body fungi.   "Yes, but I'm sure if you kick me in the nuts, I'll feel better," I mumbled through a joke.   "I can't do that," Victoria gasped. "You have Tribbles down there." Yes, I feel special.   "That's it," Gabrielle snapped. "I'm going to get help." She spun around and breezed out the door, slamming it in her wake.   "Thanks for abandoning me, Gabby," I shouted as loud as I was able. "It's not like Vic's totally lost her mind or anything like that."   "I have not lost my mind," Victoria responded with a deceptively calm, soothing tone. She reinforced my calm by locking the door, then locking in the deadbolt, yes, I felt much safer.   My merry band of orphan coconuts helped things along the cliffs of sanity by cooing and 'talking' to Victoria as she walked around the office, and she gaily responded to them.   "Ms. Reveal, this is going to be a difficult intervention. Inform me when lunch time gets here," Victoria communicated to her assistant, then added, "I need a box of outdoor trash bags; leave them at the door."   Having a hot lady like Victoria Scarlett lock the door and asking for almost 3 hours of 'alone' time with me is a mature pipe dream of mine, and that dream really meets a bloody end when she asks for roughly 30 bags with a fifty-gallon capacity each. If she pulls out a hacksaw or a 'cow-stunner,' I'm racing for the window behind the Doc's desk. I'll be gone in 90 seconds, sort of like an inexpensive microwave dinner.   Doctor Scarlett returned to her desk, turned her spy-cam around, and started making calls. I honestly maintained a miniscule hope that she might still help me. She was talking curtly to another doctor whose name I didn't recognize. What came out of her mouth next sounded like a combination of eating raw meat all your life and gargling with sand regularly; add to that an inflection of someone wanting to kick elementary kids into the paths of oncoming busses and you had the language she was using.   Victoria's stance even changed. She thrust out her chest, put her hands on her hips, and a predatory sneer took up permanent residency on her lips. She even beat on her desk hard during this little exchange before laughing in a way that made kittens piss on themselves before you hung them.   "Vice Chancellor, Doctor Victoria Scarlett, umm, what's going on?" I said careful.   I'm not so much terrified of Victoria at this point, as I am suspicious of my ability to fight at the moment.   "Everything is fine, Zane," Victoria assured me. "In essence, I am bringing in some experts in the field. You can trust me on this; we've been expecting contact like this for years." Huh?   "So, ah, that was an Albanian Biologist?" I hoped.   "No, that was Vor' Dura, Flight Leader of the Blood Quasar Fleet of the Klingon Empire," Victoria explained sedately, in the same way any SANE individual described a Navy Commander. She turned her computer screen so I could see the person's profile pic.   "How does she breathe in that thing?" I wondered. "That's one hell of a corset."   "That isn't a corset, Zane, its body armor. My suit was created by the same armorer," she stated.   "You have something like that?" I boggled.   "Yes, the precise same suit. Vor' Dura is not as blessed by her bloodlines, she's shorter, but otherwise, we are identical; our alliance ended recently and soon she must face me in ritual combat; yield or die." 'Yield or die' isn't what is centermost in my mind.   "Don't your boobs ever pop out of that thing?" Because if you have been paying any attention; I am an idiot where sex is even a remote possibility. Victoria can't meet my gaze but turns as red as her namesake.   "On a few occasions," she confessed. I'm thinking 'a few'. "Now I have a few more calls to make."   Yes, she's lost her ever-loving mind, and I have no reasonable expectation of exit or rescue. I won't be able to get up enough speed to bust out of the window so being on the first floor is meaningless. She has the deadbolt key and when I stack up my Tribbles against her Science Fiction fanaticism, I lose. She turns the monitor around and makes her next call. This one starts with the victory salute, but the one done with two fingers to each side.   "Excellent news," Vicky declares. "We have confirmation of the temporal events from Deep Space Nine. I have compelling data that I have encountered genetic derivatives of the dominant herbivorous life forms of Iota Geminorum IV." And everything went to turkey-based insanity after that. Again, they spoke rapidly in a language I knew nothing about. They acted like giddy little schoolgirls, just schoolgirls with their emotions surgically removed.   The final call went much same way except that this time, the tone of the language was like the second but with the taint of a sleazy pimp or grifter thinking she was a mob boss. These were the kinds of girls you never let babysit your kids if you ever wanted to see them again. The way Vic looked at me and the fellas made me worry about how long I could last in her brothel and inspired an unexpected sympathy for these pests.   "Zane, do you promise to stay here while I, umm, get some, umm outfits?" Victoria requests respectfully. She realizes she's asking me a bizarre favor. Balthazar's Balls, I've been tied to a cross; how much worse can this be? She scoots up to me, kisses me chastely on the lips and waits.   "It is a given that my morning class schedule is toast, and I'm no stranger to the entertainment industry so knock yourself out," I allow, but I will have to pee at some time."   "Check; I'll stop by the infirmary and get a catheter," she nods, then she kisses me lightly on the lips once more. "Thank you for this, Zane."   She's off like a shot but is careful enough to get the deadbolt on the way out. Since I doubt Ms. Reveal can get a fire-axe through the door if the building catches fire, my buddies and I really are going to experience total protonic reversal on a life-ending scale. Only now does it occur to me that these fuzzy navels might have toxic side effects.   I'm waiting around for God-knows how long when I hear some muffled noises, more muffled than having a Tribble in my ear.   Scratch, scratch, "Girl, you get away from that door," Ms. Reveal shouted (I guess).   "Quick, Mercy, hold her back," Rio shouted in response. "This deadbolt is a bitch."   A scuffle ensued and I tried to shout loud enough to call Rio off when I heard two rapid-fire thumps.   "Thank you, Ms. Black," Marisol Reveal huffed. Mercy had put up quite a fight, I guessed. "I will formally press charges when the Vice Chancellor returns."   "You will go and sit your ass behind your desk, you incompetent buffoon," Black snapped. "I will deal with this and if you bother me again today, or mention this incident to Scarlett, I swear you will never see your cat again; and if you don't hop-to in the next six seconds, I'll make an audio recording of me strangling that shit-dumper and play it by your bedroom window every night until you go mad. Do I make myself clear?"   "Ugh," is all I make out, but I hear Marisol's chair squeak soon after. The sound of a body, or bodies, being drug off faded away as Black left the office and headed down the hall. Hell, I warned Marisol. I can't do anything for Rio right now and I don't have too long to ruminate.   "Marisol, are you okay?" I hear Victoria ask her assistant. It is a testament to their bond that even the hysterical Doctor doesn't miss her friend's distress.   "Sorry, Victoria, I'm a bit, umm, heart-sick is all," Marisol murmurs. "Don't you worry about it."   "Well, when you want to talk about it, let me know," Victoria stated. Marisol must have nodded because no words were spoken and Victoria came in with two carry-on bags and three dress bags while kicking the trash bag box ahead of her. Happy fun time was about to begin.   "Sorry for the wait, Zane," Victoria told me.   "Doctor," I made a desperate Hail Mary plea for reason, "you are a highly respected educator. We really need to take a step back and re-examine what's going on here."   "Zane, this is my first teaching job ever," she related as she checked on the progress of her 'Trekkie' Posse.   "My doctorate is in Philosophy; my Master's Degrees are in Comparative Religions and Women's Studies," she informed me. "All my graduate work was done as a researcher. I've never had a student." I blink dumbly at her; and here I thought my opinion of the Board of Directors couldn't get worse.   Victoria goes over the language dance with her friends, switching fluidly from tongue to tongue in a manner that impresses and even fascinates me; and I've been to Bangkok where if you are trying to buy and/or sell anything and don't speak at least ten different languages or dialects, you might as well hand them your wallet or purse and go home. "Who do we need?" Vic said in English (just making sure everyone knows that the Tribbles aren't suddenly translating for me).   "Kar'Thon," Vor' Dura states eagerly; "This matter is a racial imperative."   "Are you sure the young man is old enough?" The second woman inquired. "Jarrod went all obsessive last time a boy crossed our path. We almost sent the kid to college."   "That's what you get for marrying a Ferengi," Dura snidely remarked, and the rest laughed along with it; meanwhile, I'm going 'a what?'   Some infighting goes on until Victoria and 'I married a Ferengi' call for peace, then babble a little more. Then the name 'Zane Braxton' comes up and I'm not sure I'm happy or sad that only one of them replies in what was clearly elation and surprise, the sleazy one knows of me.   "Zane, I need to surgically remove some of the alien organisms," Victoria tells me.   "It is going to sting like hell," I mutter, to which Vor' Dura says something and sleazy girl laughs. I do not like where this is going at all. On the bright side, Victoria doesn't rip one off of me right away; she goes over to one of the dress bags and opens it up.   She's pulling out bondage gear, oops, my bad; she's getting ready to put on Klingon body armor. I have lost all preconceptions of what I was dealing with once Scarlett began stripping in front of me. She even gave me an appreciative smile and I was the one who was doing the appreciating! The little fuckers started going off. Remember, they don't like being moved and I was moving some around at the moment.   No, my legs and arms were perfectly still but my crotch was striking up a chorus, its Handel's Messiah. There was this 'still' moment where Victoria stopped opening her blouse and the three strangers regarding me through the webcam became mute; then the laughter began. Victoria resumed her stripping but she couldn't stop smiling and snickering slightly.   The three, the Klingon uber-cook or whatever she was and her two unknown accomplices, were laughing so hard they could barely communicate. It got better; when I was fully aroused and stopped moving around my pants, they didn't shut up and I was suddenly, desperately searching my mind to know how long that song was.   This was because Vic got down to her, Oh, fuck, this white thong, and calling it white is generous as it looks like someone stole an under-achieving spider's web and gently placed it over her crotch, and I know my hard-on was not going anywhere but into something before it went away.   Victoria was working her make-up on when two of the voices got themselves together enough to ask something. Vic looked up at the web-cam, over to me, then said a few sentences.   "So, which one of you likes your ankles placed behind your ears?" I politely asked in Thai.   "What was that, Brax' Zane?" Victoria asked.   "I'm curious if I can take your virginity with my tongue?" I continued in Thai.   "I cannot understand you," Victoria said again. "What are, ah, "   "I think we should engage the Federation citizen in the Galactic Basic," the second voice requested of the room. The third voice, the sleaze, said one more then in her native tongue, then the second voice, and Victoria jumped on her.   "I said, 'I think the native is getting restless'," sleazy girl grudgingly repeated. "Now, I think we should see if our plan 1.0 can be implemented."   "Before the scourges make themselves hoarse shrilling out the hellish noise or I lose patience, transport over there, and kill them myself," Dura growled playfully. I'm glad someone else was having fun. Victoria walked up and took a deep breath, which caused her well-disciplined, thirty-ish breasts to bounce tantalizingly close. Her look was desperately fearful yet almost childlike too.   "Kar'Thon, I desperately require your assistance before these creatures drive me mad," I tried to sound masculine yet pleading. On the computer screen, Dura quickly slammed her right fist to her right shoulder; I was later to learn that was a salute.   "This is no way for a Starfleet cadet to die," Victoria beamed at me, "even if I know I must someday slaughter you in battle." Whoa, I've never considered NASA as a career choice.   Maybe Klingon bondage gear/standard uniform could change my mind. The first person to tell me university life is boring I will punt to the Moon.   "I am T'Luminareth of the Vulcan Science Academy and Reserve member of the Starfleet Exploration Corps here," the second voice spoke up. I caught sight of a picture of her with this, troll? Or maybe a dwarf with the worst case of cauliflower ear ever. "I would like to assure you that every logical effort is being put forth on your behalf."   "Is that right, Tight Luminescence? Is it going to kill you to show a fellow sentient an ounce of compassion when you know he is about to suffer a fatal toxic shock from prolonged exposure to these vermin?" the third girl snarkily interjected into the conversation. "I'm Hical Cretak, Romulan freebooter and purveyor of ancient, exotic, and misunderstood goods."   "You are a thief, and since you aren't in some asteroid prison, you must be an above average one," I said to the Romulan. "I confess that I am a bit happier to see a member of the Vulcan Science Academy since, well, I'm suffering a splintered memory. Some things make perfect sense but large details are simply missing." I figured I could provide Victoria some good game.   She began rubbing my crotch and there was an effect alright, two in fact. The simple and expectant one was my trouser titan trying to unchain itself so it could get revenge on all of Victoria's orifices for taunting him so. My torturous tiny titmice began belting 'Let's get it on' by Marvin Gaye. I think as an infant, I had a mobile playing this song in my crib.   I started to really admire T'Luminareth's acting ability because she alone kept it together. Victoria made larger and larger circles over my crotch up to my beltline while Dura and Hical lost it hysterically.   "Pssst," I murmured to Victoria. She looked at me and I darted my eyes toward her makeup kit and clothes. I am getting more clothes on her, why?   Besides, I'd gotten a better look at her suit and it didn't have a butt-zipper that said 'Come Get Some,' but those pants rolled down like a candy wrapper and that 'body armor' has a back flap. I'd have to get Rio a set and I doubted Victoria would deny me her armorer's number. I was definitely looking into getting Mercy a matching Orion Slave Girl outfit, and here people don't think I make constructive use of my time.   I was sure Victoria/Kar'Thon was breaking speed records to get herself ready while the other ladies began talking to me about a whole universe that was brand new to me. Getting three different and very conflicting versions of the rise of the Human-dominated Federation of Planets was amusing.   Out of the blue, T'Luminareth decided she was going to create a team to rapidly move to my planet and take me back for further study. Vor' Dora countered that and Hical gleefully sought out salvage rights for the wreckage of the two expeditions.   "That might not be possible," I intervened. "Some of what you've told me has fused some memories together." They all fell silent.   "At Starfleet Academy, an Engineering Team and a select group of cadets," I continued to fantasize, "were directed to work on a, phased ionic drive." Ion drive was 'old' tech, or so Hical had let slip. "The drive failed catastrophically and we couldn't save the impulse drive, power was failing, we couldn't transport. The phased ionic drive detonated in the planet's atmosphere, creating a trans-harmonic disruption. I don't know if there were other survivors of our vessel. I saw another vessel either investigating our explosion or attempting a rescue but they burned up on their approach," I looked pained. "I don't think I could communicate with them and the only survivor I could locate was Kar'Thon."   "Only a combination of our two vessels' technology has been able to punch a hole through the disruption and I'm not sure how long this effect will last." I now sounded grim but determined. "We probably need three things: We need to know if there were any special modifications to the Klingon Scout vessel because I don't think it was a standard model to get so close to an experimental Federation vessel."   "Secondly, someone needs to pry out of Starfleet the precise specifications of that vessel, and that's definitely not me," I confessed. "Finally, we need to find a way to fuse those two designs together because if Tribbles are already being affected by an increased magnetic field, how much longer do we have before even the planet's magnetic field collapses totally and we fry (a SciFi movie plot, thank you)."   Once more, there was silence and I was afraid I'd stepped way beyond my bounds. Only when I took in the masked facial expressions of Kar'Thon did I realize I'd done well. I was hit with the realization I was a word and a whisper away from having sex with her, she was so pleased with me.   "I have friends at Starfleet Academy and they might be able to shed a light on what their cadets were up to," T'Luminareth stated serenely, but I could see a fire in her eyes. "I will research into every work published on Phased Ionic Drives, and we may be forced to work on a theory of what went wrong in case Starfleet is not forthcoming."   "Not that I admit that the Klingon Empire ever had any such vessel operating in the area, Vor' Dura got out before Hical Cretak interrupted.   "You have an officer on the damn planet, you cowardly idiot," mocked Hical.   "I am a deserter," Kar'Thon declared. "I would say I was a 'scum of the Orion Colonies' but I found that you already claimed that title," she aimed at Hical.   "You must die, you traitorous dog," Dura jumped on the offered plum. Thon/Victoria wasn't a deserter but she was ready to take one for the team, so to speak. "The Klingon Empire cannot allow your stain on our honor to exist. Now that we finally have you pinned down, we are coming to end you once and for all, and if the Federation insists on harboring a traitor (we were theoretically in Federation space) then,   "I owe you a death, Vor' Dura," Thon seethed; "your death."   "You may not enter Federation space," T'Luminareth insisted.   "Before you two go to war, again, why don't you let me go in," Hical mediated. "I'm a free trader and have been to both Federation and Klingon planets."   "You are a spy," Vor' Dura growled.   "Being a successful agent doesn't make you any less of spy for your Romulan Senate," T'Luminareth seemed almost furious.   "Unfounded rumors started by my, Hical almost finished before the Tribbles screamed. Not as loud as they had for Ms. Black, but they now didn't like Thon around either, now that Victoria was a Klingon. Cordelia scares me; this time Hical had the little 'hiccup'.   "This is going to be fun," she chuckled, barely above a whisper.   "I will get these vermin no matter how much they hurt the frail human," Kar'Thon snarled, but Victoria's eyes blazed with fanatic amusement. I was mildly curious if she could even respond to her true name but decided not to test that. She pulled out a rather wicked looking knife that I had to double-take to make sure it was plastic.   The conversation went on around us as fictitious bits of data collided with innuendo, falsehoods, threats, and lies. This was roleplaying by some actors who took it as

Lea Ypi's new book about her Greek-Albanian grandmother is a philosophical meditation on dignity, a history of Ottoman collapse and Balkan nationalism, and a warning about our own indignant age of manufactured identities and resurgent tribalism.Back in January 2022, Lea Ypi came on the show to discuss Free, her brilliant account of growing up in communist Albania. Now Ypi, who teaches political philosophy at LSE, is back with her follow-up, Indignity, an equally compelling biography of Leman Ypi, her maternal grandmother. “A Life Reimagined” is its subtitle, but it's not just her grandmother whose life Ypi is reimagining. The book is a retelling of the modern stories of Greece, Turkey and Albania as well as a sly backwards glance on the court politics of the late Ottomans. Indignity is a Balkan story, in the grand tradition of Rebecca West. And like West, Ypi shows us that Balkan history is never quite dead - instead, it's prophecy for our own age of resurgent nationalism and manufactured identities. Things don't die in South Eastern Europe, Ypi suggests, they just fester, creating more and more indignity. No wonder the Dracula myth is a Balkan creation. 1. Dignity is what we chase, indignity is what we photograph. Bob Dylan wrote that “dignity never been photographed,” and Ypi iterates an entire philosophical framework around this insight. A 1941 photo of her glamorous grandmother in the Italian Alps sparked the book—but also online accusations that she was a spy. For Ypi, following Kant, dignity is an immaterial ideal we pursue; indignity is the empirical reality we live in. The book oscillates between the two, asking: how do we think about the dignity of the dead when all we have left are degraded facts and hostile interpretations?2. Salonique the Magnificent died in 1912—and took cosmopolitan possibility with it. Leman Ypi was born in 1917 in Salonica, an Ottoman melting pot that was, for a time, considered a potential homeland for European Jews. When it became Greek in 1912, the Hellenization project began dismantling centuries of multicultural coexistence. By the time the Ottoman Empire collapsed after WWI, rising nationalism had replaced cosmopolitan possibility. Leman, an “Albanian” who'd never been to Albania, was told her identity must align with the new nation-state project. The book is a lament for this lost time—not a lost place, but a lost way of being.3. Nationalism is a zero-sum game for dignity. In the world of nation-states that emerged from Ottoman collapse, individual dignity became inseparable from collective identity. To be Albanian meant dignity only as part of the Albanian nation-state project. This homogenizing, exclusionary logic forced people into boxes they'd never inhabited before. Ypi shows how this nationalist manipulation of dignity—promising it while destroying it—ran from the 1920s through fascism and communism. And it's back now, in our age of deportations, border walls, and politicians demanding: “What are you? Where do you really belong?”4. The stoic suicide versus the Kantian fighter—two philosophies of dignity. Leman's aunt Selma, forced into marriage with a German businessman, killed herself on her wedding day—the ultimate stoic assertion of control. “If you see a room full of smoke, do you wait for help or just leave?” Throughout her life, especially during her husband's 15-year imprisonment under Albanian communism, Leman wrestled with this question. Her answer was Kantian: suicide is a betrayal of our moral responsibilities to others. Dignity means staying and fighting, even when the struggle seems futile. But Ypi doesn't romanticize this—Leman's principled decisions often brought tragic consequences.5. Identity is always more complicated than politics pretends. Writing the book forced Ypi to confront how constructed and contingent identity really is. Her “Albanian” grandmother was born in Greece, had never been to Albania, grew up in an Ottoman cosmopolitan elite, and only became Albanian through the accidents of collapsing empires and rising nationalisms. This complexity matters now, Ypi argues, when contemporary politics—from migration to deportation to calls for deglobalization—depends on simplistic, homogeneous notions of identity and belonging. The archive lies; borders shift; people contain multitudes. Any politics built on forcing people to “belong in one place and nowhere else” is both a scam and historically illiterate.Keen On America is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit keenon.substack.com/subscribe

A single pepper from a Ukrainian market changed everything. That first bite—thick flesh, layered sweetness, a whisper of heat—sent us and our guest, Adam Alexander (the Seed Detective), down a path that connects flavour, resilience and the quiet power of gardeners who save seed. This is a celebration of living varieties that learn your soil and light, improve with each season, and taste far better than supermarket sameness.We dig into the craft of selection: saving seed from the earliest, most delicious fruit; nudging a greenhouse pepper into a hardy outdoor staple; balancing the vigour of certain F1s with the adaptability of open-pollinated landraces. Adam shares why buying from local seed growers accelerates success, how heterogeneous populations handle rough seasons, and when hybrids still earn a place—think months of calabrese side shoots without the cauliflower glut.The stories travel far. Ethiopia's agroforestry and deep crop heritage overturn clichés about scarcity. Albania's astonishing flora and vegetable landraces showcase Europe's hidden diversity. A Danish enthusiast breeds an outdoor aubergine over a dozen years; a Catalan pea becomes a towering, sweet staple; an Albanian oxheart tomato yields kilos of passata and a reminder that taste can drive conservation. Threaded through it all is a simple truth: gardeners are part of the solution. Each saved seed reinforces genetic diversity, strengthens local food security, and preserves culture—one swap, one season, one delicious meal at a time.If you care about flavour, climate resilience, and independence from fragile seed supply chains, this conversation offers practical steps and inspiring examples to start now. Subscribe, share with a grower friend, and leave a review to help more gardeners become seed heroes. What variety will you save this year?Adam's latest book "The Accidental Seed Heroes" is out now you can visit Adams website herehttps://theseeddetective.co.uk/my-book/Support the showIf there is any topic you would like covered in future episodes, please let me know. Email: info@mastermygarden.com Check out Master My Garden on the following channels Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mastermygarden/ Instagram @Mastermygarden https://www.instagram.com/mastermygarden/ Until next week Happy gardening John

In which we talk Dr. Phil bankrupcty, MRI spon-con, evil billioniaires, Jennifer Lawrence using ChatGPT, and Albanian's 'pregnant' AI minister. JOIN US ON PATREON BONUS EPISODES + TV TALK EVERY WEEK About Eating For Free: Hosted by journalists Joan Summers and Matthew Lawson, Eating For Free is a weekly podcast that explores gossip and power in the pop culture landscape: Where it comes from, who wields it, and who suffers at the hands of it. Find out the stories behind the stories, as together they look beyond the headlines of troublesome YouTubers or scandal-ridden A-Listers, and delve deep into the inner workings of Hollywood's favorite pastime. The truth, they've found, is definitely stranger than any gossip. You can also find us on our website, Twitter, and Instagram. Any personal, business, or general inquires can be sent to eatingforfreepodcast@gmail.com Joan Summers' Twitter, Instagram Matthew Lawson's Twitter, Instagram

You probably saw my post from ten days ago in which I argued that the vast numbers of people queuing up outside bullion stores in Singapore and Sydney to buy gold and silver were not a good sign.As it turns out, they were not. Gold and silver have put in a top - an interim, mid-cycle top, in my view, not the top - and we can now expect many months of sideways, shake-out, frustrating consolidation to generally piss everyone off. It's important, in such times, to keep your eye on the bigger picture, which in this case is the inevitable debasement of currency, so as not to lose your position.You'll know, I'm sure, the story of Joe Kennedy's shoe shine boy. In 1929, so the story goes, the boy who was polishing the celebrated investor's shoes started giving him stock tips. If the shoe shine boy has bought in, thought Joe Kennedy Snr, who else is left to buy? That persuaded him that the top was close and he famously sold just before the crash.That story is often cited to illustrate the idea that retail investors are sheep. They're stupid. You should do the opposite to what retail is doing and so on.I don't think it's anything like that simple.There are some retail investors who are stupid. There are plenty who are rookies and naive. But there are plenty who are thoughtful, wise and, as a result, very good investors. By the same token, I have met many fund managers, analysts and more from respected institutions who are thick as pigshite. (I have met plenty of geniuses too). Give me the choice between some blogger and an institutional research report, you'll often get far more insight from the former. I frequently read bulletin boards, or chats on Twitter, as part of my research into a company.It wasn't institutions who got into bitcoin early, it was retail. Even now many institutions shun it, particularly in bureaucratic banana republics such as the UK. Who were the smart guys? The people that bought earliest. Retail.Obviously, if you start getting investment tips from a shoe shine boy/taxi driver/barber (my Albanian barber is forever shilling me shitcoins) or your nan's carer's mate, that is usually a bad sign, but it doesn't mean that ordinary folk are stupid.With the above in mind, I stumbled across this video from another legend of American investing, Jim Simons. At the time of his death in 2024, the hedge fund manager's net worth was north of $30 billion, making him the 55th-richest person in the world.He describes January 21, 1980, when, at the afternoon fix, gold went to $850 /oz - a blow-off top that would not be seen again for almost 30 years.I write about that 1980 blow-off top, by the way, and how it was “illusory” in the Secret History of Gold (BTW the audiobook is getting barnstorming reviews).The point I draw from the Simons talk is that retail was selling gold. People were not buying, they were selling.In other words, retail nailed the top of the market. My mum remembers the gold fever - and indeed the silver fever (silver spiked to $50 three days earlier on January 18). Even today, 45 years on, the silver price is lower than it was then - that's how insane that spike was.She recalls people queuing up to sell their family silver. Not to buy it. To sell it.So that is something I am looking for to tell than this bull market is close to an end: when retail, ordinary people, start selling their physical in droves. We are not there yet.Even towards the end of the last bull market which peaked in 2011, everywhere you went, there were signs saying, “We buy any gold”. Retail was selling.Comedian Gary Delaney and I even wrote a sketch in which a wizard (Gandalf) pulls a ring from the fire, reads the inscription, hands it to a hobbit (Frodo), who nods thoughtfully and says something along the lines of, “I understand what I must do.” We then cut to him going into a shop with a sign outside that says, “We buy any gold.”I still think that sketch is funny, but of course TV didn't want it. Wrong age, wrong sex, wrong colour - never mind wrong views.If you enjoyed today's article, please tell a friend..Until next time,DominicIf you live in a Third World country, such as the UK, I urge you to own gold or silver. The bullion dealer I recommend is The Pure Gold Company. Pricing is competitive, quality of service is high. They deliver to the UK, the US, Canada and Europe or you can store your gold with them. More here. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.theflyingfrisby.com/subscribe

We are Dads with a particular set of skills, a set of skills that make us a nightmare for podcast listeners like you.Believe it or not, that's not Liam Neeson, that pure 2BD. That's right, we're back in da Klüb and this time we're taking a romp around Paris to save take down an Albanian human trafficking ring!Join us as we take on taken and view what might be the greatest movie dad of a time! Like, review and subscribe! Get in touch at 2balddads_pod on Insta or twobalddads69@hotmail.com

You probably saw my post from ten days ago in which I argued that the vast numbers of people queuing up outside bullion stores in Singapore and Sydney to buy gold and silver were not a good sign.As it turns out, they were not. Gold and silver have put in a top - an interim, mid-cycle top, in my view, not the top - and we can now expect many months of sideways, shake-out, frustrating consolidation to generally piss everyone off. It's important, in such times, to keep your eye on the bigger picture, which in this case is the inevitable debasement of currency, so as not to lose your position.You'll know, I'm sure, the story of Joe Kennedy's shoe shine boy. In 1929, so the story goes, the boy who was polishing the celebrated investor's shoes started giving him stock tips. If the shoe shine boy has bought in, thought Joe Kennedy Snr, who else is left to buy? That persuaded him that the top was close and he famously sold just before the crash.That story is often cited to illustrate the idea that retail investors are sheep. They're stupid. You should do the opposite to what retail is doing and so on.I don't think it's anything like that simple.There are some retail investors who are stupid. There are plenty who are rookies and naive. But there are plenty who are thoughtful, wise and, as a result, very good investors. By the same token, I have met many fund managers, analysts and more from respected institutions who are thick as pigshite. (I have met plenty of geniuses too). Give me the choice between some blogger and an institutional research report, you'll often get far more insight from the former. I frequently read bulletin boards, or chats on Twitter, as part of my research into a company.It wasn't institutions who got into bitcoin early, it was retail. Even now many institutions shun it, particularly in bureaucratic banana republics such as the UK. Who were the smart guys? The people that bought earliest. Retail.Obviously, if you start getting investment tips from a shoe shine boy/taxi driver/barber (my Albanian barber is forever shilling me shitcoins) or your nan's carer's mate, that is usually a bad sign, but it doesn't mean that ordinary folk are stupid.With the above in mind, I stumbled across this video from another legend of American investing, Jim Simons. At the time of his death in 2024, the hedge fund manager's net worth was north of $30 billion, making him the 55th-richest person in the world.He describes January 21, 1980, when, at the afternoon fix, gold went to $850 /oz - a blow-off top that would not be seen again for almost 30 years.I write about that 1980 blow-off top, by the way, and how it was “illusory” in the Secret History of Gold (BTW the audiobook is getting barnstorming reviews).The point I draw from the Simons talk is that retail was selling gold. People were not buying, they were selling.In other words, retail nailed the top of the market. My mum remembers the gold fever - and indeed the silver fever (silver spiked to $50 three days earlier on January 18). Even today, 45 years on, the silver price is lower than it was then - that's how insane that spike was.She recalls people queuing up to sell their family silver. Not to buy it. To sell it.So that is something I am looking for to tell than this bull market is close to an end: when retail, ordinary people, start selling their physical in droves. We are not there yet.Even towards the end of the last bull market which peaked in 2011, everywhere you went, there were signs saying, “We buy any gold”. Retail was selling.Comedian Gary Delaney and I even wrote a sketch in which a wizard (Gandalf) pulls a ring from the fire, reads the inscription, hands it to a hobbit (Frodo), who nods thoughtfully and says something along the lines of, “I understand what I must do.” We then cut to him going into a shop with a sign outside that says, “We buy any gold.”I still think that sketch is funny, but of course TV didn't want it. Wrong age, wrong sex, wrong colour - never mind wrong views.If you enjoyed today's article, please tell a friend..Until next time,DominicIf you live in a Third World country, such as the UK, I urge you to own gold or silver. The bullion dealer I recommend is The Pure Gold Company. Pricing is competitive, quality of service is high. They deliver to the UK, the US, Canada and Europe or you can store your gold with them. More here. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.theflyingfrisby.com/subscribe

The people of Kosova went to the polls on Sunday as the country held municipal elections. Though the war Serbia waged on Kosova was ended over 25 years ago by decisive NATO involvement, tensions remain between the majority ethnic Albanians and minority ethnic Serbs. Joining Pat to discuss the situation in Kosova is former British army officer and the founder and CEO of Henderson Risk Group, Duncan Bullivant.

The first round of local elections in Kosovo are taking place on Sunday, October 12. Kosovo still lacks a functioning government since its legislative elections back in February. The outgoing government of nationalist Prime Minister Albin Kurti continues to pursue policies that some believe are "subjugating" the Serbian community in Kosovo. FRANCE 24's Laurent Rouy and Edward Godsell report on how the city of Gračanica could be led by a new Albanian mayor.

Fresh off dropping his reelection campaign, Mayor Eric Adams went on an unexpected trip to Albania. Back home, the three remaining major mayoral candidates marked the anniversary of Oct. 7, while former Gov. Andrew Cuomo surprised many by reversing course on his earlier support for closing Rikers Island. NY1's investigative reporter Courtney Gross and political reporters Bobby Cuza and Dan Rivoli break down another eventful week in the race for mayor. Later, as we head into the final stretch before Election Day, the “Off Topic” team begins taking a closer look at the leading candidates and what they're proposing for New York City. The first installment focuses on Republican Curtis Sliwa.

A judge has been shot dead in an Albanian court; Fifa says Malaysian footballers have been forging birth certificates, and a scientist has a “grizzly” story to tell. Good Morning Cape Town with Lester Kiewit is a podcast of the CapeTalk breakfast show. This programme is your authentic Cape Town wake-up call. Good Morning Cape Town with Lester Kiewit is informative, enlightening and accessible. The team’s ability to spot & share relevant and unusual stories make the programme inclusive and thought-provoking. Don’t miss the popular World View feature at 7:45am daily. Listen out for #LesterInYourLounge which is an outside broadcast – from the home of a listener in a different part of Cape Town - on the first Wednesday of every month. This show introduces you to interesting Capetonians as well as their favourite communities, habits, local personalities and neighbourhood news. Thank you for listening to a podcast from Good Morning Cape Town with Lester Kiewit. Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays between 06:00 and 09:00 (SA Time) to Good Morning CapeTalk with Lester Kiewit broadcast on CapeTalk https://buff.ly/NnFM3Nk For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/xGkqLbT or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/f9Eeb7i Subscribe to the CapeTalk Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/sbvVZD5 Follow us on social media CapeTalk on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@capetalk CapeTalk on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ CapeTalk on X: https://x.com/CapeTalk CapeTalk on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@CapeTalk567See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Bongani Bingwa speaks with Adam Gilchrist on the Albanian judge fatally shot in court during a trial, FIFA’s investigation uncovering fake birth claims among Malaysia’s naturalised footballers, and a Nobel Prize winner who discovered their award while off the grid. 702 Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa is broadcast on 702, a Johannesburg based talk radio station. Bongani makes sense of the news, interviews the key newsmakers of the day, and holds those in power to account on your behalf. The team bring you all you need to know to start your day Thank you for listening to a podcast from 702 Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays from 06:00 and 09:00 (SA Time) to Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa broadcast on 702: https://buff.ly/gk3y0Kj For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/36edSLV or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/zEcM35T Subscribe to the 702 Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/v5mfetc Follow us on social media: 702 on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TalkRadio702 702 on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@talkradio702 702 on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talkradio702/ 702 on X: https://x.com/Radio702 702 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@radio702See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Bongani Bingwa speaks with Adam Gilchrist on the Albanian judge fatally shot in court during a trial, FIFA’s investigation uncovering fake birth claims among Malaysia’s naturalised footballers, and a Nobel Prize winner who discovered their award while off the grid. 702 Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa is broadcast on 702, a Johannesburg based talk radio station. Bongani makes sense of the news, interviews the key newsmakers of the day, and holds those in power to account on your behalf. The team bring you all you need to know to start your day Thank you for listening to a podcast from 702 Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa Listen live on Primedia+ weekdays from 06:00 and 09:00 (SA Time) to Breakfast with Bongani Bingwa broadcast on 702: https://buff.ly/gk3y0Kj For more from the show go to https://buff.ly/36edSLV or find all the catch-up podcasts here https://buff.ly/zEcM35T Subscribe to the 702 Daily and Weekly Newsletters https://buff.ly/v5mfetc Follow us on social media: 702 on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TalkRadio702 702 on TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@talkradio702 702 on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/talkradio702/ 702 on X: https://x.com/Radio702 702 on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@radio702See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

On October 1, 911, during the reign of Emperor Leo the Wise, an all-night vigil was being held at the Blachernae Church of the Mother of God in Constantinople, with many of the faithful crowding the church. St Andrew the Fool for Christ (commemorated tomorrow, October 2) was standing at the back of the church with his disciple Epiphanius. At around four in the morning, the most holy Theotokos appeared above the people, clothed in resplendent garments, surrounded by indescribable radiance, and holding a veil in her outstretched hands, as though to protect all the people. St Andrew said to Epiphanius 'Do you see how the Queen and Lady of all is praying for the whole world?' Epiphanius replied 'Yes, Father, I see it and stand in dread.' This wonderful event is recorded in Epiphanius' life of St Andrew. Because of it, the Church keeps an annual feast on this date.   Note: This feast is particularly well-loved in the Slavic churches. In 1960, the Greek church transferred its observance to October 28, in memory of the Mother of God's protection of the Greek forces holding the Albanian front against Italy in 1940. St Romanos the Melodist of Constantinople (556)

Hugh interviews Albanian academic and author Lea Ypi about her new book Indignity: A Life Reimagined. The book is an exploration of political, historical and philosophical themes through the story of Ypi's grandmother, Leman Ypi, who experienced Albania's tumultuous 20th century, from the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, through fascism, Nazism, communism and its fall.Lea talks about how literature helps us hear silenced histories - particularly those of women. She also discusses nation formation, the role of archives, and the analogies between historical and current political crises.Lea Ypi is Professor in Political Theory at the London School of Economics and Political Science. Indignity: A Life Reimagined is published by Penguin. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

A hearing's been told how a young man died in a tragic accident on a railway line in Kent as he attempted to leave the UK.An inquest was told the 25-year-old Albanian national was trying to cross the tracks near the Motis Lorry Park last September.Also in today's podcast, There's been a mixed reaction to new bus fares that've come into force in parts of Kent.Stagecoach have increased their prices by 10p for short or medium-length journeys. We've been hearing what people in Maidstone think while Stagecoach have told us why the price hike is necessary.Plans for 100 new homes and sports facilities in a village near Maidstone have been delayed again.Residents in Lenham have been waiting six years for a decision on the development off Old Ashford Road. Hear from the chairman of the parish council.Kent Fire and Rescue are praising the work of their volunteer unit, as it celebrates its tenth anniversary.The Volunteer Response Team is on call 365 days a year and works with crews at the scene of fires and floods.Drivers have helped rescue three dogs after they were dumped by a roadside in Sittingbourne.The animals were seen being left by a van driver on Ruins Barn Road before the vehicle sped off.In sport, hear from the Gillingham manager who has revealed he will be undergoing planned heart surgery this week.Meantime, Gillingham's unbeaten run under Gareth Ainsworth has come to an end. We've got reaction from midfielder Bradley Dack. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Im Rahmen einer Medienwoche haben die Schülerinnen und Schüler der Klasse B3B am Weidli in Uster mit Podcasts experimentiert.  «Unsere Generation. Jugend von heute. Ohne Filter» heisst ihre Podcast-Reihe, die Episoden tragen sprechende Titel wie «Schule schwänzen Bruder» oder «Albanian baddies uf lehrstellsuechi» und behandeln genau das: Sorgen und Nöte und Freuden von Heranwachsenden in der Schweiz.Im Rahmen dieser Medienwoche hat die Klasse auch «Apropos» besucht - den täglichen Podcast des Tages-Anzeigers und waren bei Host Philipp Loser zu Gast in einer Bonusfolge.Produktion: Sara SpreiterDer Podcast der Schulklasse B3B aus Uster: Unsere Generation. Jugend von heute. Ohne Filter Unser Tagi-Spezialangebot für Podcast-Hörer:innen: tagiabo.chHabt ihr Feedback, Ideen oder Kritik zu «Apropos»? Schreibt uns an podcasts@tamedia.ch Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Patreon preview. Unlock full episode at https://www.patreon.com/stavvysworld Consigliere and spiritual guide of Stavvy Baby Enterprises, Mr. Cheeks AKA The Cheeksman, returns to usher Stav and Eldis to the mystical Valley of the Kush. In this exciting new subseries, unlike any other done before on the pod, the boys go to The Cheeks Zone, but with kush a la Kush Brothers, to discuss questions that have confounded man for all of time (what is light?), explore formative childhood experiences, and talk about who beat who in Mario Tennis and Mario Kart. Mr. Cheeks, Stav and Eldy help callers including a guy who really hates his coworker's aspiring cop boyfriend, and an Albanian who wants to protect his son from viral Albanian conspiracies like the meme that George Washington was Albanian.  Check out Ben O'Brien's beautiful creative direction at stavvy.biz and Stav's accounts. Follow Ben on social media: https://www.instagram.com/benfobrien/  https://twitter.com/benfobrien Follow Eldis Sula on social media: https://www.instagram.com/eldissula/ https://twitter.com/eldissula

Encountering Race in Albania: An Ethnography of the Communist Afterlife (Cornell University Press, 2025) is the first book to interrogate race and racial logics in Albania. Chelsi West Ohueri examines how race is made, remade, produced, and reproduced through constructions of whiteness, blackness, and otherness. She argues that while race is often limited to Western processes of modernity that exclude Eastern Europe, racialization processes are global, and the ethnography of everyday Albanian socialities makes visible how race operates. Historical and political science frameworks prevail in the study of post-Cold War East European societies, yet as West Ohueri shows, anthropological and ethnographic knowledge can equip scholars to ask questions that they might otherwise not consider, illustrating how racialization is ongoing and enduring in a period that she terms the communist afterlife. Encountering Race in Albania, through the unexpected optic of Albania, a small, formerly communist country in Southeast Europe, offers significant insights into into broader understandings of race in a global context. Chelsi West Ohueri is Assistant Professor of Slavic and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas, Austin. Her work focuses on ethnographic studies of race and racialization, belonging, marginalization, and medical anthropology, primarily in Albania and Southeast Europe. Reighan Gillam is Associate Professor in the Department of Latin American, Latino, and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. Her research examines the ways in which Afro-Brazilian media producers foment anti-racist visual politics through their image creation. She is the author of Visualizing Black Lives: Ownership and Control in Afro-Brazilian Media (University of Illinois Press). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Encountering Race in Albania: An Ethnography of the Communist Afterlife (Cornell University Press, 2025) is the first book to interrogate race and racial logics in Albania. Chelsi West Ohueri examines how race is made, remade, produced, and reproduced through constructions of whiteness, blackness, and otherness. She argues that while race is often limited to Western processes of modernity that exclude Eastern Europe, racialization processes are global, and the ethnography of everyday Albanian socialities makes visible how race operates. Historical and political science frameworks prevail in the study of post-Cold War East European societies, yet as West Ohueri shows, anthropological and ethnographic knowledge can equip scholars to ask questions that they might otherwise not consider, illustrating how racialization is ongoing and enduring in a period that she terms the communist afterlife. Encountering Race in Albania, through the unexpected optic of Albania, a small, formerly communist country in Southeast Europe, offers significant insights into into broader understandings of race in a global context. Chelsi West Ohueri is Assistant Professor of Slavic and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas, Austin. Her work focuses on ethnographic studies of race and racialization, belonging, marginalization, and medical anthropology, primarily in Albania and Southeast Europe. Reighan Gillam is Associate Professor in the Department of Latin American, Latino, and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. Her research examines the ways in which Afro-Brazilian media producers foment anti-racist visual politics through their image creation. She is the author of Visualizing Black Lives: Ownership and Control in Afro-Brazilian Media (University of Illinois Press). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/russian-studies

Encountering Race in Albania: An Ethnography of the Communist Afterlife (Cornell University Press, 2025) is the first book to interrogate race and racial logics in Albania. Chelsi West Ohueri examines how race is made, remade, produced, and reproduced through constructions of whiteness, blackness, and otherness. She argues that while race is often limited to Western processes of modernity that exclude Eastern Europe, racialization processes are global, and the ethnography of everyday Albanian socialities makes visible how race operates. Historical and political science frameworks prevail in the study of post-Cold War East European societies, yet as West Ohueri shows, anthropological and ethnographic knowledge can equip scholars to ask questions that they might otherwise not consider, illustrating how racialization is ongoing and enduring in a period that she terms the communist afterlife. Encountering Race in Albania, through the unexpected optic of Albania, a small, formerly communist country in Southeast Europe, offers significant insights into into broader understandings of race in a global context. Chelsi West Ohueri is Assistant Professor of Slavic and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas, Austin. Her work focuses on ethnographic studies of race and racialization, belonging, marginalization, and medical anthropology, primarily in Albania and Southeast Europe. Reighan Gillam is Associate Professor in the Department of Latin American, Latino, and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. Her research examines the ways in which Afro-Brazilian media producers foment anti-racist visual politics through their image creation. She is the author of Visualizing Black Lives: Ownership and Control in Afro-Brazilian Media (University of Illinois Press). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/anthropology

Encountering Race in Albania: An Ethnography of the Communist Afterlife (Cornell University Press, 2025) is the first book to interrogate race and racial logics in Albania. Chelsi West Ohueri examines how race is made, remade, produced, and reproduced through constructions of whiteness, blackness, and otherness. She argues that while race is often limited to Western processes of modernity that exclude Eastern Europe, racialization processes are global, and the ethnography of everyday Albanian socialities makes visible how race operates. Historical and political science frameworks prevail in the study of post-Cold War East European societies, yet as West Ohueri shows, anthropological and ethnographic knowledge can equip scholars to ask questions that they might otherwise not consider, illustrating how racialization is ongoing and enduring in a period that she terms the communist afterlife. Encountering Race in Albania, through the unexpected optic of Albania, a small, formerly communist country in Southeast Europe, offers significant insights into into broader understandings of race in a global context. Chelsi West Ohueri is Assistant Professor of Slavic and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas, Austin. Her work focuses on ethnographic studies of race and racialization, belonging, marginalization, and medical anthropology, primarily in Albania and Southeast Europe. Reighan Gillam is Associate Professor in the Department of Latin American, Latino, and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. Her research examines the ways in which Afro-Brazilian media producers foment anti-racist visual politics through their image creation. She is the author of Visualizing Black Lives: Ownership and Control in Afro-Brazilian Media (University of Illinois Press). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/sociology

Encountering Race in Albania: An Ethnography of the Communist Afterlife (Cornell University Press, 2025) is the first book to interrogate race and racial logics in Albania. Chelsi West Ohueri examines how race is made, remade, produced, and reproduced through constructions of whiteness, blackness, and otherness. She argues that while race is often limited to Western processes of modernity that exclude Eastern Europe, racialization processes are global, and the ethnography of everyday Albanian socialities makes visible how race operates. Historical and political science frameworks prevail in the study of post-Cold War East European societies, yet as West Ohueri shows, anthropological and ethnographic knowledge can equip scholars to ask questions that they might otherwise not consider, illustrating how racialization is ongoing and enduring in a period that she terms the communist afterlife. Encountering Race in Albania, through the unexpected optic of Albania, a small, formerly communist country in Southeast Europe, offers significant insights into into broader understandings of race in a global context. Chelsi West Ohueri is Assistant Professor of Slavic and Eurasian Studies at University of Texas, Austin. Her work focuses on ethnographic studies of race and racialization, belonging, marginalization, and medical anthropology, primarily in Albania and Southeast Europe. Reighan Gillam is Associate Professor in the Department of Latin American, Latino, and Caribbean Studies at Dartmouth College. Her research examines the ways in which Afro-Brazilian media producers foment anti-racist visual politics through their image creation. She is the author of Visualizing Black Lives: Ownership and Control in Afro-Brazilian Media (University of Illinois Press). Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/eastern-european-studies

There is a real cost that comes from constant stress producing behaviors. With a mother's heavy heart, young enlisted go off to do their duty. Some thoughts on friends who have fought and died before us. You were right about everything. She will be golden by tomorrow. People who are free falling will grab onto whatever they can. The Gaza issue will involve Cypress. What Turkey did with Israel will be coming out soon. Strategies are not for the now, but for the future. God has been generous with the bonus miles. Remember that Zuck once banned the President. The Tina Peters case could have been won. But it's not over. There were drones parked in the Albanian mountains. In this day and age there is no anonymous. 90% of our military don't believe in what their doing. Making the sacrifices for what you were told. Nothing that the news says is accurate. Family planning means have lots of babies and pack your holidays. There is so much coming down the pike that will be shocking. All of us should be ready for anything.

An Arendt expert has arrived at Arendt-obsessed Recall This Book. Lyndsey Stonebridge discusses her widely praised 2024 We Are Free to Change the World: Hannah Arendt's Lessons in Love and Disobedience. Lesley sees both radical evil and the banality of evil at work in Nazi Germany and in the causes of suffering and death in Gaza today. She compares the moral idiocy of authoritarians (like the murderous Nazis and those who are starving Gaza) to that of philosophers who cannot hear the echoes of what they are doing. Lesley and John discuss Arendt's belief in the fragile ethics of the Founding Fathers, with its checks and balances and its politics based not on emotion but cool deliberation. Arendt could say that “The fundamental contradiction of [America] is political freedom coupled with social slavery,”” but why was she too easy on the legacy of imperial racism in America, missing its settler-colonial logic? Arendt read W. E. B. DuBois (who saw and said this) but perhaps, says Lesley, not attentively enough. Lyndsey is not a fan of Jonathan Glazer's Zone of Interest, because it makes the evil banality of extermination monstrous all over again (cf. her"Mythic Banality: Jonathan Glazer and Hannah Arendt.") Responsibility is crucial: She praises Arendt for distinguishing between temptation and coercion. Mentioned in the episode: Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974 one of the last great historical events in Arendt's lifetime. Lesley praises “reading while walking” and the unpacking of the totalitarian in Anna Burns's marvelous Norther Ireland novel, Milkman. Hannah Pitkin's wonderful 1998 The Attack of the Blob: Hannah Arendt's Concept of the Social, emphasizes Arendt's idea that although we are free, we can forfeit that freedom by assuming we are rule-bound. Arendt on the challenge of identity: “When one is attacked as a Jew, one must respond not as a German or a Frenchman or a world citizen, but as a Jew.” The Holocaust is a crime agains humanity a crime against the human status, a crime "perpetrated on the body of the Jewish people".” Various books by Hannah Arendt come up: Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on teh Banality of Evil. (1963). Judgement in Arendt is crucial from earliest days studying Kant and in her final works (among The Life of the Mind) she speaks of the moments when "the mind goes visiting.” Her earliest ideas about love and natality are in Love and Saint Augustine (1929, not published in English until 1996). Hannah Arendt is buried at Bard, near her husband Heinrich Blucher and opposite Philip Roth, who reportedly wanted to capture some of the spillover Arendt traffic. James Baldwin's essay “The Fire Next Time” (1963) caused Arendt to write Baldwin about the difference between pariah love and the love of those in power, who think that love can justify lashing out with power. Recallable Books Lyndsey praises Leah Ypi's (Free) forthcoming memoir about her Albanian family, Indignity. John recalls E. M Forster, Howard's End a novel that thinks philosophically (in a novelistic vein) about how to continue being an individual in a new Imperial Britain. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/political-science

An Arendt expert has arrived at Arendt-obsessed Recall This Book. Lyndsey Stonebridge discusses her widely praised 2024 We Are Free to Change the World: Hannah Arendt's Lessons in Love and Disobedience. Lesley sees both radical evil and the banality of evil at work in Nazi Germany and in the causes of suffering and death in Gaza today. She compares the moral idiocy of authoritarians (like the murderous Nazis and those who are starving Gaza) to that of philosophers who cannot hear the echoes of what they are doing. Lesley and John discuss Arendt's belief in the fragile ethics of the Founding Fathers, with its checks and balances and its politics based not on emotion but cool deliberation. Arendt could say that “The fundamental contradiction of [America] is political freedom coupled with social slavery,”” but why was she too easy on the legacy of imperial racism in America, missing its settler-colonial logic? Arendt read W. E. B. DuBois (who saw and said this) but perhaps, says Lesley, not attentively enough. Lyndsey is not a fan of Jonathan Glazer's Zone of Interest, because it makes the evil banality of extermination monstrous all over again (cf. her"Mythic Banality: Jonathan Glazer and Hannah Arendt.") Responsibility is crucial: She praises Arendt for distinguishing between temptation and coercion. Mentioned in the episode: Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974 one of the last great historical events in Arendt's lifetime. Lesley praises “reading while walking” and the unpacking of the totalitarian in Anna Burns's marvelous Norther Ireland novel, Milkman. Hannah Pitkin's wonderful 1998 The Attack of the Blob: Hannah Arendt's Concept of the Social, emphasizes Arendt's idea that although we are free, we can forfeit that freedom by assuming we are rule-bound. Arendt on the challenge of identity: “When one is attacked as a Jew, one must respond not as a German or a Frenchman or a world citizen, but as a Jew.” The Holocaust is a crime agains humanity a crime against the human status, a crime "perpetrated on the body of the Jewish people".” Various books by Hannah Arendt come up: Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on teh Banality of Evil. (1963). Judgement in Arendt is crucial from earliest days studying Kant and in her final works (among The Life of the Mind) she speaks of the moments when "the mind goes visiting.” Her earliest ideas about love and natality are in Love and Saint Augustine (1929, not published in English until 1996). Hannah Arendt is buried at Bard, near her husband Heinrich Blucher and opposite Philip Roth, who reportedly wanted to capture some of the spillover Arendt traffic. James Baldwin's essay “The Fire Next Time” (1963) caused Arendt to write Baldwin about the difference between pariah love and the love of those in power, who think that love can justify lashing out with power. Recallable Books Lyndsey praises Leah Ypi's (Free) forthcoming memoir about her Albanian family, Indignity. John recalls E. M Forster, Howard's End a novel that thinks philosophically (in a novelistic vein) about how to continue being an individual in a new Imperial Britain. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/critical-theory

An Arendt expert has arrived at Arendt-obsessed Recall This Book. Lyndsey Stonebridge discusses her widely praised 2024 We Are Free to Change the World: Hannah Arendt's Lessons in Love and Disobedience. Lesley sees both radical evil and the banality of evil at work in Nazi Germany and in the causes of suffering and death in Gaza today. She compares the moral idiocy of authoritarians (like the murderous Nazis and those who are starving Gaza) to that of philosophers who cannot hear the echoes of what they are doing. Lesley and John discuss Arendt's belief in the fragile ethics of the Founding Fathers, with its checks and balances and its politics based not on emotion but cool deliberation. Arendt could say that “The fundamental contradiction of [America] is political freedom coupled with social slavery,”” but why was she too easy on the legacy of imperial racism in America, missing its settler-colonial logic? Arendt read W. E. B. DuBois (who saw and said this) but perhaps, says Lesley, not attentively enough. Lyndsey is not a fan of Jonathan Glazer's Zone of Interest, because it makes the evil banality of extermination monstrous all over again (cf. her"Mythic Banality: Jonathan Glazer and Hannah Arendt.") Responsibility is crucial: She praises Arendt for distinguishing between temptation and coercion. Mentioned in the episode: Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974 one of the last great historical events in Arendt's lifetime. Lesley praises “reading while walking” and the unpacking of the totalitarian in Anna Burns's marvelous Norther Ireland novel, Milkman. Hannah Pitkin's wonderful 1998 The Attack of the Blob: Hannah Arendt's Concept of the Social, emphasizes Arendt's idea that although we are free, we can forfeit that freedom by assuming we are rule-bound. Arendt on the challenge of identity: “When one is attacked as a Jew, one must respond not as a German or a Frenchman or a world citizen, but as a Jew.” The Holocaust is a crime agains humanity a crime against the human status, a crime "perpetrated on the body of the Jewish people".” Various books by Hannah Arendt come up: Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on teh Banality of Evil. (1963). Judgement in Arendt is crucial from earliest days studying Kant and in her final works (among The Life of the Mind) she speaks of the moments when "the mind goes visiting.” Her earliest ideas about love and natality are in Love and Saint Augustine (1929, not published in English until 1996). Hannah Arendt is buried at Bard, near her husband Heinrich Blucher and opposite Philip Roth, who reportedly wanted to capture some of the spillover Arendt traffic. James Baldwin's essay “The Fire Next Time” (1963) caused Arendt to write Baldwin about the difference between pariah love and the love of those in power, who think that love can justify lashing out with power. Recallable Books Lyndsey praises Leah Ypi's (Free) forthcoming memoir about her Albanian family, Indignity. John recalls E. M Forster, Howard's End a novel that thinks philosophically (in a novelistic vein) about how to continue being an individual in a new Imperial Britain. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

My guest in this week's Book Club podcast is the Albanian-born political philosopher Lea Ypi, whose new book Indignity: A Life Reimagined reconstructs the story of her grandmother's early life amid the turbulence of the early and mid twentieth century. She talks to me about using the techniques of fiction to supply the gaps in the archive, about Albania's troubling position as a tiny power among great ones, why the fight between Kant and Nietzsche remains a live one — and how online trolls sparked her quest for a restorative account of her beloved grandmother's life.  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

An Arendt expert has arrived at Arendt-obsessed Recall This Book. Lyndsey Stonebridge discusses her widely praised 2024 We Are Free to Change the World: Hannah Arendt's Lessons in Love and Disobedience. Lesley sees both radical evil and the banality of evil at work in Nazi Germany and in the causes of suffering and death in Gaza today. She compares the moral idiocy of authoritarians (like the murderous Nazis and those who are starving Gaza) to that of philosophers who cannot hear the echoes of what they are doing. Lesley and John discuss Arendt's belief in the fragile ethics of the Founding Fathers, with its checks and balances and its politics based not on emotion but cool deliberation. Arendt could say that “The fundamental contradiction of [America] is political freedom coupled with social slavery,”” but why was she too easy on the legacy of imperial racism in America, missing its settler-colonial logic? Arendt read W. E. B. DuBois (who saw and said this) but perhaps, says Lesley, not attentively enough. Lyndsey is not a fan of Jonathan Glazer's Zone of Interest, because it makes the evil banality of extermination monstrous all over again (cf. her"Mythic Banality: Jonathan Glazer and Hannah Arendt.") Responsibility is crucial: She praises Arendt for distinguishing between temptation and coercion. Mentioned in the episode: Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974 one of the last great historical events in Arendt's lifetime. Lesley praises “reading while walking” and the unpacking of the totalitarian in Anna Burns's marvelous Norther Ireland novel, Milkman. Hannah Pitkin's wonderful 1998 The Attack of the Blob: Hannah Arendt's Concept of the Social, emphasizes Arendt's idea that although we are free, we can forfeit that freedom by assuming we are rule-bound. Arendt on the challenge of identity: “When one is attacked as a Jew, one must respond not as a German or a Frenchman or a world citizen, but as a Jew.” The Holocaust is a crime agains humanity a crime against the human status, a crime "perpetrated on the body of the Jewish people".” Various books by Hannah Arendt come up: Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on teh Banality of Evil. (1963). Judgement in Arendt is crucial from earliest days studying Kant and in her final works (among The Life of the Mind) she speaks of the moments when "the mind goes visiting.” Her earliest ideas about love and natality are in Love and Saint Augustine (1929, not published in English until 1996). Hannah Arendt is buried at Bard, near her husband Heinrich Blucher and opposite Philip Roth, who reportedly wanted to capture some of the spillover Arendt traffic. James Baldwin's essay “The Fire Next Time” (1963) caused Arendt to write Baldwin about the difference between pariah love and the love of those in power, who think that love can justify lashing out with power. Recallable Books Lyndsey praises Leah Ypi's (Free) forthcoming memoir about her Albanian family, Indignity. John recalls E. M Forster, Howard's End a novel that thinks philosophically (in a novelistic vein) about how to continue being an individual in a new Imperial Britain. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Gideon talks to Albanian academic Lea Ypi about her book Indignity. In the book, she describes how living first under the Ottoman empire, then as part of fascist Italy and later in a post-war communist state affected the lives of her grandparents. They discuss possible parallels between the first half of the 20th century and the times we are living in today and ask what lessons can be drawn from this history to avoid making the same mistakes. Clip: AQSHFFree links to read more on this topic:Kant and the case for peaceAlbania's ‘old sheriff' on course to win fourth term as prime ministerWhy the EU's migration dilemma is pushing the bloc further rightSubscribe to The Rachman Review wherever you get your podcasts - please listen, rate and subscribe.Presented by Gideon Rachman. Produced by Fiona Symon. Sound design is by Breen Turner and the executive producer is Flo Phillips.Follow Gideon on Bluesky or X @gideonrachman.bsky.social, @gideonrachmanRead a transcript of this episode on FT.com Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

An Arendt expert has arrived at Arendt-obsessed Recall This Book. Lyndsey Stonebridge discusses her widely praised 2024 We Are Free to Change the World: Hannah Arendt's Lessons in Love and Disobedience. Lesley sees both radical evil and the banality of evil at work in Nazi Germany and in the causes of suffering and death in Gaza today. She compares the moral idiocy of authoritarians (like the murderous Nazis and those who are starving Gaza) to that of philosophers who cannot hear the echoes of what they are doing. Lesley and John discuss Arendt's belief in the fragile ethics of the Founding Fathers, with its checks and balances and its politics based not on emotion but cool deliberation. Arendt could say that “The fundamental contradiction of [America] is political freedom coupled with social slavery,”” but why was she too easy on the legacy of imperial racism in America, missing its settler-colonial logic? Arendt read W. E. B. DuBois (who saw and said this) but perhaps, says Lesley, not attentively enough. Lyndsey is not a fan of Jonathan Glazer's Zone of Interest, because it makes the evil banality of extermination monstrous all over again (cf. her"Mythic Banality: Jonathan Glazer and Hannah Arendt.") Responsibility is crucial: She praises Arendt for distinguishing between temptation and coercion. Mentioned in the episode: Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974 one of the last great historical events in Arendt's lifetime. Lesley praises “reading while walking” and the unpacking of the totalitarian in Anna Burns's marvelous Norther Ireland novel, Milkman. Hannah Pitkin's wonderful 1998 The Attack of the Blob: Hannah Arendt's Concept of the Social, emphasizes Arendt's idea that although we are free, we can forfeit that freedom by assuming we are rule-bound. Arendt on the challenge of identity: “When one is attacked as a Jew, one must respond not as a German or a Frenchman or a world citizen, but as a Jew.” The Holocaust is a crime agains humanity a crime against the human status, a crime "perpetrated on the body of the Jewish people".” Various books by Hannah Arendt come up: Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on teh Banality of Evil. (1963). Judgement in Arendt is crucial from earliest days studying Kant and in her final works (among The Life of the Mind) she speaks of the moments when "the mind goes visiting.” Her earliest ideas about love and natality are in Love and Saint Augustine (1929, not published in English until 1996). Hannah Arendt is buried at Bard, near her husband Heinrich Blucher and opposite Philip Roth, who reportedly wanted to capture some of the spillover Arendt traffic. James Baldwin's essay “The Fire Next Time” (1963) caused Arendt to write Baldwin about the difference between pariah love and the love of those in power, who think that love can justify lashing out with power. Recallable Books Lyndsey praises Leah Ypi's (Free) forthcoming memoir about her Albanian family, Indignity. John recalls E. M Forster, Howard's End a novel that thinks philosophically (in a novelistic vein) about how to continue being an individual in a new Imperial Britain. Listen and Read here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My guest in this week's Book Club podcast is the Albanian-born political philosopher Lea Ypi, whose new book Indignity: A Life Reimagined reconstructs the story of her grandmother's early life amid the turbulence of the early and mid twentieth century. She talks to me about using the techniques of fiction to supply the gaps in the archive, about Albania's troubling position as a tiny power among great ones, why the fight between Kant and Nietzsche remains a live one — and how online trolls sparked her quest for a restorative account of her beloved grandmother's life. Become a Spectator subscriber today to access this podcast without adverts. Go to spectator.co.uk/adfree to find out more.For more Spectator podcasts, go to spectator.co.uk/podcastsContact us: podcast@spectator.co.uk Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Years ago, Laura and Pino Pugliano gifted bottles of olive oil at their wedding—never imagining it would inspire a thriving business. Our episode traces their heartfelt journey, where romance and tradition intertwine, from the charm of a small Italian town to the bustling enterprise they run today. As we explore their story, we also uncover the rich heritage of Vena di Maida, where Albanian and Italian cultures have coexisted since the 1400s. The Arbëreshë community, with its enduring language, customs, and recipes, illustrates how migration shaped Italy's cultural mosaic of resilience and continuity. Our journey then turns to Calabria's lush olive groves, where the ancient art of olive oil production still thrives. From its sacred uses in Rome to its place at modern tables, olive oil remains a timeless symbol of nourishment and identity. We highlight its health benefits, economic role, and the importance of sustainability—challenging listeners to value authentic, high-quality oils that honor Italy's agricultural legacy.      CICCIO'S OLIVES SOCIALS Instagram: @cicciosolives YouTube:  @cicciosolives  X: @CicciosOlives Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CicciosOlives/   THEIR WEBSITE: https://cicciosolives.com/

Mike Bloom sits down with Rizo Velovic, the self-proclaimed "Riz God," in this preseason interview for Survivor 49. As the first player of Albanian descent in the show's history, Rizo brings a unique perspective and infectious enthusiasm to the game.

Mike Bloom sits down with Rizo Velovic, the self-proclaimed "Riz God," in this preseason interview for Survivor 49. As the first player of Albanian descent in the show's history, Rizo brings a unique perspective and infectious enthusiasm to the game.

  Episode Description Episode Description         Sign up to receive this Unreached of the Day podcast sent to you:                                               https://joshuaproject.net/people_groups/21527/MK Dear Friend, The Batak people of North Sumatra didn't have a written language until 1834. Today, they're one of the largest Christian populations in Indonesia, with over 6 million believers. The transformation happened because someone, a German missionary named Ludwig Nommensen, decided their spiritual poverty was unacceptable. That was 190 years ago. Today, 4,473 people groups are still waiting for their Ludwig Nommensen moment. The People Group Adoption Program launches today, and here's how it works: It meets you where you are. You're not being asked to become a missionary in the field (though if God calls you to that, we'll cheer you on). You're being invited to use your current gifts, prayer, advocacy, networking, research to support those who are already called to go. It's strategic. Every people group in our database has been vetted by researchers and field workers. These aren't randomly selected communities. They're the 100 largest frontier people groups, the populations with the least gospel access and the greatest potential for kingdom impact. It grows with your capacity. Whether you're adopting as a family, church, or organization, the commitment adjusts to what you can offer. Some will pray weekly. Others will fund translation projects. A few will end up moving to the field. All contributions matter. When you adopt a people group today, you'll receive: Immediate next steps for your specific adopted group A digital covenant card to mark your commitment Information about your frontier people group Regular updates as we develop more resources and connections Beyond the practical resources, you'll receive something harder to quantify: the knowledge that you're part of a strategic response to the most urgent spiritual need on our planet. The Batak people have been sending missionaries to unreached groups for decades now. Their story didn't end with their own transformation; it multiplied exponentially. Your adopted people group could be the next

In Part 3 of Episode 249 of the Mike Drop podcast, David Packouz lays bare the unraveling of the War Dogs saga. From shady dealings with Albanian connections to Efraim Diveroli's ruthless betrayal, David reveals the high-stakes fallout of their $300 million Afghan contract. Hear how a scorned subcontractor's tip to the FBI and the New York Times sparked a federal raid, a media scandal, and 71 counts of fraud. David shares the personal toll—losing millions, facing prison time, and rebuilding from nothing—while Efraim's reckless choices led to his downfall. Plus, discover how house arrest sparked David's reinvention as an inventor with the BeatBuddy and Instafloss. This episode is a raw, unfiltered look at ambition, consequences, and turning lemons into lemonade. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices