#jet programme

[sleepy-cephalopod-studies]

One of my first year junior high kids got third in her first English speech contest!!! I'm so proud of both of my students since they were some of the only first years and they aren't very confident in class. I actually got them little gifts and a card to congratulate them even if they didn't win, but I joked that my little figure of Hello Kitty napping was kind of lame compared to a trophy (ironically the girl who won was way more hyped to get that than the 3rd place medal lmao). They were little gacha figures of Hello Kitty and PomPomPurin sleeping, with a message saying:

You did it! I am so proud of you. You worked very hard, and now you can rest--just like Hello Kitty/Pompompurin.

And even if my other girl didn't win, I gushed about how well she had improved since we first started practicing. Like her essay had a phrase that was impossible for her to pronounce at first ("which visit the"). And when she finally presented, she fucking NAILED it. She laughed when I had talked to her after the contest and went "___-san, the "which visit the"? 最高!完璧!　🤌"

Aaaa I'm so proud of them!

[yetiyamanashi]

On September 8th, we held our annual Welcome BBQ to introduce current YETIzens to the new arrivals! 16 new ALTs moved to Yamanashi through the JET Programme, and 3 more came through the Iowa-Yamanashi sister state program!

We had a great time grilling meat in the park, and followed it up with an after party at our favorite bar.

山梨へようこそ！

[ysabelandrei]

What's Up?! Some Life Updates!

My grandparents and relatives recently visited Manila, so I came home to Marikina from the province. It was a fun three weeks with them. We also had two family reunions (one from my grandfather’s side and one from my grandmother’s)  while they were here. My brother and I always assisted our grandparents during their stay here. I’m also grateful for my relatives and the wonderful time we shared. We all cried at the airport when they left.

After my grandparents’ short vacation, I gathered all my documents for my application for the JET Programme (Assistant Language Teacher/ALT) of the Japanese Embassy here in Manila. They offer this program annually. So, if you’re interested in spreading Japanese culture and want to teach in Japan, I recommend applying for this program.

I also took JLPT (Japanese Language Proficiency Test) N4 last Dec 3rd. I was nervous yet calm the whole time while answering the exam. I had already taken N5 and N4 before, so I knew what to expect. I was silently screaming when it was the reading comprehension test. I think that’s my weakness among the three tests. The first test was grammar, the second was reading comprehension, and the third was listening. I believe my strongest part was the listening section. The results will be out by February. I’m nervous about the result but I’ll accept it if I fail since I wasn’t prepared enough.

Macken also visited Manila last November, so I finally took the chance to meet him! I got his photobook “Up The Road” and “Rurouni Kenshin: Final” Blu-ray signed! He smiled at me when I said, “Thank you.” I felt weak on my knees and smiled like an idiot afterward! Haha I also attended his first-ever fanmeeting in Manila. We all saw he’s more relaxed here than at the Manila Pop Culture Convention. Denise Laurel was such a good host! I hope organizers will hire her for future Japanese fanmeetings. She was so good and pretty! We also had the hi-bye session, and it was literally just a hi-bye! I shouted, “I love Haruma too,” but I don’t think he heard me. Huhu To see his smile up close was to die for!

I also watched two Japanese movies in our local cinemas. The first was “TOKYO MER: Mobile Emergency Room” and “My Happy Marriage” (As Long As We Both Shall Live). I was silently screaming for Kaku Kento everytime he appeared on the screen. I was cheering for him! I also silently cheered for Meme and Mio in “My Happy Marriage.” I was crying the whole time since the movie deeply moved me. I first saw them together in “Trillion Game,” their characters here were very different from that drama. Great job, Meme and Mio!

Overall, I’m enjoying my life again now since I’m already back here in Metro Manila. I can meet my friends and attend events again.

[otaku-tactician]

I just wanted to thank everyone who liked and read this article thus far. I hope it managed to help at least one other person. if there is anybody else who is struggling adjusting to work and japan i want to say

you are valid, it's not just a cultural difference. sometimes the treatment is not always good in japan

if you wish to go home or seek other options, that is valid and please do not let others tell you what to do with your life

all the best and thanks again!!

My Experience in Japan

I thought I should be brave and share my rare negative experience of working as a teaching assistant in Japan. Sadly I got harrassed and mistreated in my place of work, but this became a taboo. When I tried to post my article to the official newsletter; they censored most of my original message and classed my bullying as simply 'cultural differences'. Sadly this means my article was unable to reach the target audience.

I wrote this article for any other teaching assistants who may be having a tough time teaching abroad, as well as a mode of release for myself.

Hope you like it!

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

The screenshots from "The Yakai", with Sakurai Sho as a host. 15.08.2024.

[arvale-artist]

I like to think that this is the view from Soneros' beach...

Arvale 2: Ocean of Time can be played for free here! More Arvale music can be found here, by the composer's (and writer) website himself!

[messungauto]

AHU PLC BASED CONTROL SYSTEM I AHU controllers i  NX-ERA JET PLC

[mossadspypigeon]

as a fellow jew, being against the Israeli governments genocidal actions is not antisemitic. the singer in eurovision supports those actions, of course people are pissed the fuck off. in what world is it alright to massacre innocent people? you can claim hamas all you want, but the world knows the truth and the world is disgusted. bombing hospitals, shooting children, blocking aid, and starving people is not right no matter who you are. if you think otherwise you are a monster.

anon: in what world is it alright to massacre innocent people??? uwu

also anon: shits on the survivor of a massacre in the same paragraph while not acknowledging oct 7, a MASSACRE, at all.

you’re a joke. “as a jewwwww” lmao get away from me you boged trash. supporting people who want all jews annihilated isn’t a flex.

shooting children…😂😂 fam that’s hamas. hamas hides in hospitals and shoots rockets from them. hamas murdered babies with their own bare hands and kidnapped and branded children. hamas even uses aid to shoot rockets. hamas shoots their own children and anyone who tries to take aid. hamas controls the aid. hamas has murdered protestors.

gazans have been PROTESTING THIS. the head of a hospital there recently refused to let hamas use it as a base and received death threats from them. remove head from fucking sphincter dude and blame who is actually at fault, not your own people who were ATTACKED FIRST IN A MASSACRE.

https://archive.ph/UZYAA

and hey FELLOW JEW:

these are just some examples of why your points are ridiculous, including statements from a palestinian activist. maybe listen to palestinians not associated with hamas. if you care about them so much.

maybe also research what their nationalist movement states, what their leaders have said, what their polls say, what their education system teaches. but no, right? why research the other side when you can show you’re “one of the good jews,” by jumping to shit on your own people, including a survivor of the worst massacre of jews since THE SHOAH??

you want to talk about murdering children? maybe condemn the fuckers who murdered YOUR OWN PEOPLE. YOUR OWN BABIES. but nope i rarely see antizionist jews do this. so excuse me, but i consider every single one of you to be disgusting jokes.

[sleepy-cephalopod-studies]

I wore a simplified version of my Harley Quinn costume to my schools every day this week, and I had the most wholesome moment yesterday

Some of my elementary kids in special education have a teacher to help them out during mainstream classes with everyone, and one of the 4th years is such a sweetheart. And when I walked in with my outfit, her face fucking LIT UP and after class her teacher asked me if I could take a picture with A-chan. I was like sure, totally!

So during the lunch break, A-chan marches into the teacher's room and presents me with an origami mummy she and her teacher made, and we took pics with her beaming and looking so happy ☺️

[everygame]

Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos (C64)

Developed/Published by: Dalali Software / Creative Sparks (Thorn EMI Computer Software) Released: 1984 Completed: 05/12/2024 Completion: Got a high score of 8750. I’ll take it!

Writing about old video games for an audience of very few could seem like a thankless task–especially when they’re as awful as Christmas Crackers. But there’s a reason I do it. One, I just love playing games, even if they’re so crap I give up on them in minutes. Two, I just love learning. I love discovery, I love finding out things that are new to me about video games and their history. And sometimes, if I’m lucky, I find out some things that no one has really paid attention to before.

I never thought playing a completely random Christmas cash-in on C64 would bring me anything like that.

Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos is a game for C64, Spectrum and Atari 8-Bit released by Dalali Software under Thorn EMI’s “Creative Sparks” imprint. At the time it sank without trace due to, apparently, a lack of marketing. After playing it–and I will get into that–I did my usual investigation into the developer, and was quite prepared to dismiss Dalali as one of the many fly-by-night British game developers of the 1980s–they appeared to be only a going concern between 1984 and 1989 and didn’t have any particularly notable games to their name. They were responsible for ports of Rescue On Fractalus and Lilttle Computer People to Amstrad CPC, but largely seem to have had the bad luck of being most related to 1986’s Biggles game. The weirdest thing about that is that not only did I really like the movie on which it was based (which I’m sure no one else remembers but me) when I was a kid, watching it on telly several times, I’ve actually played the game! It was on Amstrad Action #68’s covertape (along with How To Be A Complete Bastard!) and, as vague as my memories of it are now, I’m sure I played it loads of times. Less than How To Be A Complete Bastard, admittedly.

This led me to dig a little further, and sometimes things just fall into place, because I found an astonishingly in-depth article from Sham Mountebank’s When Were They Now? blog (a new one to me) all about Dalali. I think Mountebank slightly buries the lede however, because digging into the linked articles it seems absolutely remarkable that Dalali is not only in the ranks of the earliest companies to have been founded (or co-founded) by a woman, but very likely the first game company founded by a Palestinian: Hanan Samara.

Hanan Samara, pictured in Computer & Video Games March 1985.

Game companies had been co-founded by women before–most famously Sierra, by Roberta Williams and her husband Ken in 1979–but I think Samara’s story might be unique.  According to an interview with ANTIC The Atari 8-bit Podcast she believes she might have been the first female assembly programmer in the UK, starting out by converting software to work for the Arabic market. Moving to work for Thorn EMI, she’d see a Humpty Dumpty puzzle game–programmed by her future husband(!) Chris James–and be “hooked.”

After coding Jumbo Jet Pilot for Atari 8-Bit for Thorn EMI, it seems that she made the leap to founding Dalali–named for her mother’s maiden name (as her mother said go for it, while her dad said to get a job at IBM...) with another ex-employee, Adrian Wadley.

Something I really appreciate about Samara’s story is that she immediately brought herself to game design, with Dalali’s first game “Jinn Genie”. While this kind of Arabic-theming undoubtedly seems stereotypical today, in an interview with Popular Computing Weekly it is clear that this is an early example of someone trying to represent their culture via the art of video games:

“Jinn Genie is a game that incorporates many of the basic myths and children’s stories of my culture–I am an Arab, a Palestinian, and all the ideas of genies and so on are familiar to me.”

Jinn Genie, on C64.

The most disappointing thing, to me, is that Samara is, at this point, unheralded outside of a blog post, one short podcast, and about… three short articles featuring three pictures that can be found on archive.org! She’s one of the UK’s earliest female programmers, game designers and founders, perhaps the first Palestinian game developer, and she has managed to run Dalali since 1984 because it’s still going–they just stopped making games.

Samara’s story isn’t mine to tell, so I hope that institutions like GDC, The Video Game History Foundation or The Strong can find out more and champion her. Figures such as Muriel Tramis have gone from overlooked to winning the Legion of Honour, and if I can help get the word out about Hanan Samara, just a little bit, I’ll feel I’ve done my part.

But I know what you’re asking now.

“But how good is Special Delivery: Santa’s Christmas Chaos???”

So let's return to regular programming. First, I’m going to note that I believe I have played the wrong version of this. When it came to games, Samara was an Atari 8-bit coder, and it is absolutely transparent that Special Delivery is based entirely on Jinn Genie–both feature a flying section, a climbing section, and a section with floors and ladders. It does feel like I should have played the Atari 8-bit version to experience the most representative version, as I did with playing the C64 version of Pirates, let’s say.

(It’s worth mentioning here also that the ANTIC podcast–recorded seven years ago now–even notes that the version of Jinn Genie that Samara coded, for the Atari 8-bit, seems to be lost, although Samara does say that she has a copy of it somewhere. Aforementioned institutions could probably help with that too. What that largely means, though, is that the Atari 8-bit version of Special Delivery is the closest you can get to playing the original Jinn Genie.)

To be fair, the C64 version seems pretty close to the original (the ZX Spectrum port is… not).

As I’ve said previously, my expectations for a Chrimbo cash-in have been low, and no matter how much this is sort of a reskin of a previous game, that it’s got an idea and an actual design exceeds anything I’ve expected. At first glance you might go “well, isn’t this just Santa Claus again?” (or even Santa’s Sleigh Ride.) But it’s honestly much more–even if it is still a bit weird.

In Special Delivery, you’re first flying across the screen in Santa’s (somewhat confusingly drawn) sleigh, collecting presents that… angels are dropping. Which implies that this is in fact the historical Saint Nicolas, or maybe I’m just overthinking it. You’re trying to collect a target number of presents, but you lose them if you crash into clouds (odd) or accidentally collect a demonic present dropped by a devil (who appear rarely, but look very much like angels, annoyingly.) Losing presents won’t kill you, but Santa has a set amount of hours in the night, and you lose an hour if you get struck by the lightning that occasionally appears from the strangely firm clouds.

If you collect enough presents, you get to land on a big house to put presents under the tree. First this requires you climb down the chimney, which in this situation is: huge, full of ladders, and lit so flames keep climbing the ladders that you have to dodge. Once you’ve done that, you’re actually in the house, where you have to Solid Snake your way to the tree, drop off the present, grab the front door key, and then leave through the front door, while the residents run wildly from one room to the next, seemingly out of their nut with either excitement for Christmas or hatred for Santa. Get hit by a flame or grabbed by a resident and you’ll lose an hour.

Interestingly, if you don’t collect enough presents, you don’t get to go into any big houses, but you do get to drop presents down the chimney of some wee houses. You only really pick up big points for going into big houses, which raises the concerning idea that Santa only gives a fuck about you if you’re rich enough to live in a big house.

But to be fair, the people in big houses seem absolutely determined to not get pressies, keeping their fires roaring and attacking Santa on sight, so perhaps he just likes the challenge. “I hope Santa doesn’t show up” they’re saying, “we’ve got all the stuff we need in this big house. We don’t need wooden toys or whatever the historic Saint Nick would be handing out, he should give those to the poor people in the wee houses.”

More fool them, I checked Wikipedia and he was dropping off bags of gold coins through people’s windows. (Admittedly to stop them being sold into prostitution.)

Anyway. Even before I knew the exciting context for Special Delivery, I was struck by how… weirdly ok it was! Maybe it’s just how bad the other Santa-em-ups have been (well, I guess I didn’t hate Merry Xmas Santa) but the different sections largely make sense together, undoubtedly because it’s based on Jinn Genie. The main problem really is that it just doesn’t control very well. Flying the sleigh is stiff, and when you’re actually controlling Santa himself, he reacts very slowly to your input, meaning you have to time presses based on the lag, and I probably lost most of my lives in the chimneys as a result–it might be better on the Atari 8-Bit, so more fool me.

Special Delivery is not really the kind of thing that’s going to hold your attention for very long, but it does actually manage to be playable and feels properly festive. I’ll celebrate that.

Will I ever play it again? I was surprised to see a non-zero number of people say online that playing this is a bit of a Christmas tradition. Well, I don’t think I will be taking it up, but I do fancy playing Jinn Genie at some point now--maybe once that Atari 8-bit version is found!

Final Thought: In my research I was surprised to discover not only had I played a Dalai Software game before, I’d also played a Creative Sparks game, similarly loads of times: Danger Mouse In Double Trouble. Strangely, it has the same multi-game design as this (and I guess, a lot of the computer games of the era) but suffered a lot more for them not having any meaningful connection and mostly being rubbish. Even as a child I remember enjoying just the jungle level and suffering through the rest to get through that. The things you’ll do when you’ve got nothing else as a child.

Every Game I’ve Finished 14>24 is OUT NOW! You can pick it up in paperback, kindle, or epub/pdf. You can also support Every Game I’ve Finished on ko-fi! You can pick up digital copies of exp., a zine featuring all-exclusive writing at my shop, or join as a supporter at just $1 a month and get articles like this a week early.

[umlewis]

From the Racetrack To Space: IWC Schaffhausen and the Polaris Program Give Lewis Hamilton Astronaut Flight Training

Schaffhausen/Qatar, 26th November 2024: In a compelling new short movie produced by IWC Schaffhausen, Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team driver Lewis Hamilton embarks on a flight training for astronauts. The same training was used to prepare the crews of the Inspiration 4 and Polaris Dawn commercial human spaceflight missions. During the training day, the seven-time Formula 1 world champion and IWC brand ambassador was accompanied by students from Dibia DREAM, a non-profit organisation fostering STEM education. Their presence is also a reminder of Lewis Hamilton's own incredible career journey spanning more than three decades and sends an inspiring message: you can be anything you want in life – a pilot on the racetrack, in the air or even in space.

One of the most successful racing drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton is a multifaceted personality whose interests and ambitions extend far beyond his sport. The seven-time Formula 1 world champion is deeply fascinated by space and human space exploration. He has visited renowned space training facilities and repeatedly expressed his desire to take part in a space mission in the future if it serves a purpose and contributes to the betterment of all humanity. IWC Schaffhausen now teamed up with the Polaris Program and its Philanthropy Director and instructor pilot, John "Slick" Baum, to offer Lewis Hamilton an opportunity to experience the flight training that is part of the organization's programme of preparing astronauts for space. The Polaris Program, which is supported by IWC, recently completed the first of three human spaceflight missions. During their five days in orbit, the Polaris Dawn crew wrote history by successfully performing the first commercial spacewalk.

FLIGHT TRAINING IS ESSENTIAL FOR ASTRONAUTS

Fighter jet training has been at the heart of human spaceflight since the beginning. All early astronauts were fighter jet pilots, and experience in piloting a jet was an essential requirement for going to space. Flight training was also a key pillar in the preparation of the Inspiration 4 and Polaris Dawn crews for their missions. While the g-loads experienced in a jet or a rocket cannot be directly compared, as they affect the body in different ways, jet training still offers compelling benefits for astronauts. Most importantly, it allows the crew members to familiarise themselves with operating in a high-risk and high-consequence environment, similar to what they would experience during launch. While they are pressed down into their seats by several times their own body weight, they have to communicate with each other, go through extensive technical checklists, and monitor critical flight parameters – all while being mentally aware of their surroundings and prepared to act in case something unexpected should happen.

A COMPLETE SEQUENCE OF TRAINING MANOEUVRES

Lewis Hamilton's space training kicked off with an extensive briefing and inspection of the L-39 Albatros jet. John "Slick" Baum gave Hamilton a detailed overview of the manoeuvres they would fly and how they simulate different situations an astronaut experiences during a spaceflight. During their subsequent discovery flight lasting almost one hour, Hamilton and his instructor performed a series of manoeuvres. They practiced accelerations and decelerations to experience lateral g-forces, simulating the ascent of a rocket. They also practiced higher g-loads by banking or pitching the aircraft hard. A highlight was flying a parabola figure for a zero-g demonstration, during which Hamilton briefly experienced the feeling of weightlessness. A racing glove, which eventually began to float freely in the cockpit, was used as a zero-g indicator. In flight, the F1 pilot pulled a maximum of 7.5 g, which is more than astronauts typically experience on ascent. Hamilton wore a dedicated race suit featuring a "space mission" patch with his car number 44. He will wear the same suit during this weekend's race at the Lusail International Circuit in Qatar.

DIBIA DREAM STUDENTS SEND A POWERFUL MESSAGE

The training was also attended by a group of students from Dibia DREAM. This nonprofit organisation sparks social change through STEM education and recreational activities for underserved youth and has impacted the lives of 40,000 students across 32 states and twelve countries. The students spent the entire day engaging in a variety of activities related to space exploration. They also got a chance to meet with Hamilton and ask him questions prior to take-off. Their presence served as a powerful reminder of Hamilton's incredible journey, from his humble beginnings in karting at the age of eight to becoming one of the most acclaimed drivers in the history of motorsport. As the students cheered alongside the runway, they sent an uplifting message to youths around the world: you can be anything you want in life – whether it is a racing driver, a pilot, or even an astronaut.

[rubber-dronex-blog]

Jack stared at his reflection, almost entranced. The figure looking back wasn’t just him—it was an idealized vision, a flawless creation of gloss and chrome. Every inch of his body was encased in the skin-tight black rubber, shining like liquid obsidian under the light.

The heavy knee-high boots grounded him, their thick soles adding a subtle weight that made every step deliberate. Chrome cuffs gleamed at his wrists and ankles, catching the light with every slight movement. A matching chrome belt hugged his waist, and above it, the gleam of the thick chrome collar stood like a symbol of ownership and belonging.

His face was gone, replaced by the full hood that smoothed his features into anonymity. The attached gas mask, with its dual side-mounted filters, made each breath sound mechanical and amplified, a slow hiss in, a faint rush out. The sound comforted him, reminding him how completely sealed he was inside.

It had taken time—so much time—to get into the suit, every layer, every strap and buckle, every press of latex against his skin, until it all became one seamless second skin. But now, standing there, glossy and restrained, he felt it was worth every moment.

He didn’t just look perfect. He was perfect.

Jack’s gloved hands moved slowly, almost reverently, to his crotch. The glossy black rubber there bore a reinforced panel, a functional design detail he had come to admire—the code piece, tight and perfectly smooth, its edges seamless against the rest of the suit. At the center, the small zipper gleamed faintly in the light.

With a faint rasp of metal teeth, he drew it down. Beneath, a second layer of rubber stretched taut around him, a sheath within the suit that encased his cock entirely. It was like the rest of him—sealed, restrained, and yet gloriously heightened in sensation. The inner sheath hugged every contour, every vein, slick and suffocatingly tight.

As he carefully peeled back the second layer, his cock sprang free, glossy and rubberized like the rest of his body. The double-layered enclosure had left it aching, pulsing slightly, trapped in that hot, airless confinement for so long that even the cool air of the room felt alien against its synthetic surface.

Jack let out a slow breath, the gas mask amplifying it into a mechanical hiss. He couldn’t help but admire it—his cock transformed, as perfect as the rest of him, jet black and seamless. The suit had done more than encase him. It had remade him. Even here, where flesh should have been, there was only rubber, glossy and complete.

He ran a gloved finger along the shaft, feeling the squeak of latex on latex. The sensation shot through him like an electric current. The suit wasn’t just clothing anymore. It was him.

Jack’s gloved hand lingered on his rubberized shaft for a moment longer, the urge to stroke overwhelming, almost intoxicating. The suit amplified every sensation—the tightness, the friction, the heat. But he forced himself to stop.

It was late. The soft hum of the room reminded him of the hour, and a faint mechanical chime from his terminal confirmed it. Not now. Not yet. Tonight was special.

With a faint sigh, carried through the filters of his gas mask in a mechanical hiss, he guided his synthetic cock back into its sheath. The inner layer embraced him once more with that familiar, airless squeeze, followed by the outer code piece sealing shut. He tugged the zipper closed, the sound of metal teeth locking him back into perfection. Smooth, seamless, untouched—like nothing had happened.

Jack adjusted his stance, feeling the tight rubber pull and shift over his body. Every movement reminded him how completely sealed he was, how every part of him belonged to the suit now.

Tonight, the programmer had promised him an audio session. The thought made his synthetic heart—if he even still had one—beat faster. He didn’t know the details, but that was part of the thrill. The programmer’s voice alone could send him spiraling, every carefully modulated command rewiring him further, deeper.

He sat down carefully on the padded bench beside the mirror, the glossy surface of his suit creaking softly as he moved. He stared at his reflection again, watching the chrome collar catch the faint glow of the room’s light.

“Soon,” he whispered to himself, though the gas mask distorted it into a faint hiss.

He could already hear the imagined echoes of the programmer’s voice in his head. Soft, calm, inescapable.

The soft chime of the program activating echoed in Jack’s ears, the sound processed and filtered through the suit’s integrated audio. A small indicator blinked to life on the visor overlay inside his hood—CAMERA: ACTIVE.

He straightened his posture on the padded bench, his glossy black figure perfectly aligned, chrome collar gleaming in the dim light. The red recording dot pulsed faintly, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

Other icons populated the interface. Dozens of others had joined the session. Some with cameras—dark silhouettes in latex, leather, or plain shadow. Others audio-only, their voices muted for now. The hum of digital presence surrounded him.

Then, the PROGRAMER’s voice filled the channel. Calm. Measured. Unassuming.

“Good evening, all. I trust everyone’s properly seated, restrained, or at least… attentive.”

Jack felt a shiver run through him, though the thick rubber muted it to a faint internal pressure. The voice wasn’t commanding, not yet. It wasn’t seductive. Not even interesting, really.

“…so yesterday I had the strangest encounter,” the PROGRAMER continued, the tone conversational, almost mundane. “I stopped at a café I don’t usually visit. The line was long. A barista forgot my order.”

Jack’s visor showed no expressions. His masked face betrayed nothing. And yet inside, something subtle shifted.

He sat there motionless, breathing slowly, the filters on his mask amplifying each inhale and exhale into a mechanical rhythm. Why was he listening so intently? It wasn’t a fascinating story. It wasn’t even particularly engaging. But his mind stayed fixed, anchored to every word like it was the only sound that mattered.

“…and when I finally got my drink, I noticed a tiny crack in the cup. Barely noticeable, but still there. Isn’t it strange how we often ignore such imperfections?”

Jack nodded faintly without realizing. His rubberized cock twitched inside its sheath. A deep, growing need coiled in him—not to move, not to speak, but simply to stay. To listen.

Each word felt heavier than it should, like drops of water slowly filling a sealed vessel.

The PROGRAMER’s voice softened. “And so I thought… maybe there’s a lesson here. About patience. About attention. About control.”

The word control echoed in Jack’s mind. His gloved hands rested on his knees, perfectly still. The chrome cuffs on his wrists felt heavier now.

He didn’t care about the story. He didn’t need to. It wasn’t the content—it was the cadence, the flow, the subtle hooks hidden in each sentence pulling his mind deeper.

He was ready for the next part. The part where the PROGRAMER’s tone would change—where the soft, harmless words would become commands.

Jack wasn’t entirely sure when he had stopped following.

The PROGRAMER’s voice had continued—soft, deliberate, like waves lapping at the edge of his mind. Jack thought he was listening, but his thoughts had drifted, or maybe they had been peeled away layer by layer. He wasn’t sure which.

He only caught fragments: “…and now we’ll count…” “Just let it happen…” “Ten…”

His eyes, behind the visor, stared blankly at his own reflection. His glossy black figure remained perfectly still, knees apart slightly, gloved hands resting on chrome thighs. He barely noticed the PROGRAMER’s voice continuing—“…nine… eight…”—because his focus was… somewhere else. Or nowhere at all.

“…three… two… one… zero.”

And then everything shifted.

On the small feed windows around him, Jack saw motion. Other rubberized figures stirred, gasps and sighs leaking into microphones. Bodies swayed gently in chairs, fingers curled reflexively, chests rising and falling faster in tight latex or leather.

But Jack didn’t move. Or maybe he couldn’t. Or maybe he simply didn’t want to.

It didn’t matter.

Then, without warning, his right hand lifted. Smooth. Fluid. As if it weren’t his choice.

The glossy black glove gleamed under the room’s lights as it floated upward, elbow bending slightly, fingers splayed like a puppet on invisible strings.

Jack watched in silence. He didn’t command it. He didn’t resist either. His breathing hissed softly through the gas mask filters, calm… detached.

His left hand began to rise too, slower, lagging behind slightly. Both arms hovered now, palms facing forward. He felt no effort. No strain. Only the faint pull, like magnets guiding them through syrupy air.

The PROGRAMER’s voice hummed in his ears:

“Good. Don’t think. Don’t decide. Let the suit move for you. Let your body remember it isn’t yours anymore.”

A small twitch passed through Jack’s fingers. His cock stirred inside its sheath again, trapped and aching. But he still didn’t move of his own accord. The suit—or something deeper—had taken over.

Jack’s hands dropped suddenly, falling limp to his sides with a faint creak of taut rubber. He sat there, frozen, the sound of his own breathing echoing in his mask—slow, mechanical, in and out.

And then, without his intent, his right hand twitched. Fingers flexed. It lifted again, slowly, moving with eerie precision down to his crotch.

No… wait… Jack’s thoughts barely formed, sluggish like thick oil. What’s going on?

He could feel the zipper tab between his gloved fingers, cold metal pressing into latex.

No, don’t… they’re all watching. Cameras… all of them…

But the zipper moved anyway. The faint rasp of teeth separating was deafening in his ears. His suit parted, the double-layered sheath beneath revealed, glossy and tight. His left hand joined in, peeling back the second layer with practiced care.

And then it was there.

His cock. Rubberized. Glossy. Aching. Perfect.

It sprang free into the cool air of the room, standing hard, utterly transformed like the rest of him. It glistened under the lights, an artificial shaft—jet black and smooth, as if molded for display.

He wanted to cover himself. To stop. But his hands remained still now, resting obediently at his sides again.

On the session’s feed windows, he could sense the others watching. Figures in masks and suits. Audio-only participants breathing faster. No one spoke. They didn’t have to.

Then the PROGRAMER’s voice cut through, calm and approving:

“Super effective drone.”

The words struck Jack like an electric shock. His entire body shuddered violently, a full-body wave of sensation that made the rubber suit squeak and creak. His cock throbbed visibly, a droplet of clear synthetic fluid beading at its tip.

Jack’s mind reeled. I… I can’t stop… I can’t move… But another thought slipped in, alien and terrifyingly comforting: Why would I?

He sat there, hard and displayed, as the PROGRAMER’s voice continued to weave around him.

Jack sat there, frozen in place, his glossy black figure a perfect statue of synthetic obedience. The faint hiss of his breathing through the gas mask filters filled the silence between the PROGRAMER’s words. His erect, rubberized cock stood proudly exposed, gleaming under the dim light.

Then a sound in his ear—soft, deliberate, like a faint tone embedded in the PROGRAMER’s voice. Something shifted.

His right hand twitched. Slowly, deliberately, it lifted. The gloved fingers curled around his synthetic shaft, wrapping it in a perfect grip. The left hand joined, resting lightly near the base.

And then… motion.

He began to stroke.

Long, slow pulls from base to tip, perfectly measured. The rhythm was hypnotic—up… pause… down… pause. The sound of latex against latex filled the room in wet, squeaky whispers.

Jack’s cock throbbed under the touch, every movement sending waves of bliss radiating out through his glossy, sealed body. The suit seemed to amplify it, pleasure trapped and recirculated inside, building heat and pressure like steam in a sealed chamber.

I’m not doing this, Jack thought faintly, but even that thought felt hollow. His body moved with absolute precision, like a puppet on strings.

The PROGRAMER’s voice hummed in his ears. “Good drone. Perfect pace. Stay there. Feel it. But remember… no release without my word.”

A shudder ran through Jack’s encased frame. His rubberized cock pulsed harder, a bead of clear synthetic fluid rolling down over the gloved fingers working it. Bliss flooded him—warm, dizzying, all-consuming—but still incomplete.

He couldn’t come. Not unless permitted. The thought alone made his cock twitch violently in his grip.

His visor displayed a faint overlay now: STROKE. HOLD. WAIT.

Jack obeyed. Of course he obeyed.

The PROGRAMER’s calm voice cut through Jack’s fogged mind like a blade:

“Well… we’ve arrived at the end of the session. It’s been almost two hours.”

Jack blinked behind his visor, his gloved hand still stroking his glossy, aching cock in that perfect rhythm. Two hours? His mind tried to grasp it, but it slipped away like water through fingers.

No… we just started… he thought. You only talked about coffee…

But somewhere, deep down, he realized he hadn’t been thinking at all. He’d been listening. Obeying. Existing in a blissful haze of heat and pressure, the PROGRAMER’s voice shaping his reality while time melted away.

“And Jack… before we finish… you can finish too. Come.”

The words struck him like lightning.

Jack’s entire body tensed, rubber squealing against itself as the orgasm tore through him. It was instantaneous, explosive, and utterly consuming. His synthetic cock throbbed violently in his grip, spurting thick, glossy streams of fluid that splattered his gloved hand and dripped onto his suit.

He gasped, the sound distorted through the gas mask filters into a mechanical hiss, his visor fogging with heat. The pleasure didn’t just stay in his cock—it flooded every inch of him, rolling through his glossy encased body like fire. His muscles clenched, his back arched slightly, every nerve alive with electric bliss.

When it finally ebbed, Jack sagged back against the bench, panting, his cock still twitching in his hand. The overlay on his visor now read: SESSION COMPLETE.

Wow… The thought floated lazily in his exhausted mind. That… that was a trip.

But then the weight of reality returned like a dull ache.

Damn. Now I have to wait. Wait until next time to feel… that.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jack guided his softening synthetic shaft back into its sheath, zipping up the code piece until his suit was seamless again. His hands dropped to his sides, resting heavily as the room felt suddenly colder.

The PROGRAMER’s voice faded from his ears. The session was over. Just silence now.

Time to get cleaned up, Jack thought, though there was no urgency in him. Time to return to the boring normal world…

But part of him already craved the next session. The next voice. The next permission.

[usafphantom2]

How do you overstress an SR 71 to the point where it was only flown one more time and who was the brave person that flew it #973 back to the United States?

Like all operational SR-71s, #973 spent its service life with the 9th SRW and its various detachments around the world – including DET-1 at Kadena with which it flew 62 training missions and 45 operational sorties over Southeast Asia between 1969 and 1971.

In 1982, 61-7973 was the first SR-71 to receive "subdued" or "low observable" red markings in line with a USAF mandate. However, it was the only jet to have the USAF star painted in red as it was quickly realised it looked too much like the Soviet Red Star!

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

In 1987, #973 was overstressed while displaying at the RAF Mildenhall Air Fete. Ferried back to Palmdale for repairs, such were the complications of the damage,

there was potential the jet might break in half during take-off. 😮Wow!

As it was, that was #973’s final flight – on inspection it was deemed it would be too costly to repair the jet. While working out what to do with the jet the SR-71 programme was officially terminated in November the following, having been eliminated from the US Defense Department’s 1990 budget. Soon after, 973 was the final SR-71 to be retired prior to the type’s deactivation in February 1990. Placed in storage at Palmdale, the jet was moved to the Blackbird Airpark in Palmdale – an annex of the Air Force Flight Test Museum at Edwards AFB – the following year; the Blackbird Airpark was officially dedicated on September 27, 1991. Today, it is the only place in the world where you can see an SR-71 on display with its predecessor – the A-12 developed by the ‘Skunk Works’ for the US Central Intelligence Age source Key Areo key.aero/article/where-…

Linda Sheffield

@Habubrats71 via X

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

Tonight on "The Yakai".

Tonight's episode of "The Yakai" , airing tonight at 22.00. p.m. on japanese time and 16.00. p.m. on Israel time on "TBS", will feature a ten metre dive and a special "Scary Wife" show!

#nakamurakaito from "Travis Japan", #soyaigari from "HiHi Jets" and #kenjimotonami , all talents who are afraid of heights, will take on the challenge of the "ten metre diving derby" ! Who can dive the fastest?

We will also take a look at the love between #akirahokuto and #kensukeasaki ! Can you guess who his wife is by looking at just one part of her body? If you get it wrong, you'll be attacked by her scary spouse.....

In addition, former child genius #kentasuga will take on the "sixty seconds of rapid crying" challenge ! Will he be able to shed tears without shuddering at Kintaro's imitation?

Also in "Last Child's Lunch" #emikurara, who is currently starring in Tuesday's drama "Saionji-san Doesn't Do Homework", is very excited about the children's lunch! Who will eat it last?

Enjoy the Challenges from our stellar guests.

𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆★

[panelshowsource]

AL JAZEERA

Britain’s High Court has ruled that the government’s decision to allow the export of Lockheed Martin F-35 jet parts to Israel is lawful despite accepting that they could be used in breach of international humanitarian law. [...] Currently, the United Kingdom contributes components for F-35s to an international defence programme that produces the bombers.

REUTERS

The United Kingdom had assessed that Israel was not committed to complying with international humanitarian law in Israel's ongoing military campaign. But Britain did not suspend licences for F-35 components, which go into a pool of spare parts which Israel can use on its existing F-35 jets.

NYT

During a four-day hearing at the High Court of England and Wales last month, lawyers representing the charities [Al-Haq and Global Legal Action Network] argued that the supply of F-35 components to Israel breached Britain’s duty to ensure respect for the Geneva Conventions, to prevent genocide, and to stop the sale of arms that could be used to attack civilians. But the High Court, in its judgment on Monday, said it did not have the power to rule on whether Israel’s conduct in Gaza amounted to genocide or war crimes, and that decisions on whether to continue involvement in the F-35 program were for government ministers.

GUARDIAN

In a 72-page ruling on Monday, Lord Justice Males and Mrs Justice Steyn said the courts should not intervene in a sensitive political issue that was best left to ministers and parliament.

[kamalkafir-blog]

AMCA Programme Execution Model Approved By Defence Minister Rajnath Singh

[NEWS] AMCA Programme: ऑपरेशन सिंदूर के  बाद से पाकिस्तान से चल रही तनातनी के बीच भारत के रक्षा मंत्रालय ने फिफ्थ जेनरेशन के स्टील्थ फाइटर जेट एमका के निर्माण को मंजूरी दे दी है. खास बात है कि पहली बार देश की प्राइवेट कंपनियों को भी इस पांचवी पीढ़ी के लड़ाकू विमानों को बनाने की प्रक्रिया में हिस्सा लेने की मंजूरी दी गई है. देश की एयरोनॉटिकल डेवलपमेंट एजेंसी (एडीए) पहले ही एडवांस मीडियम कॉम्बैट…