📰 TAEVision Engineering 's Posts - Mon, May 15, 2023
TAEVision 3D Mechanical Design
• Automotive
STRONGER THAN TIME MercedesBenz GClass G500
• Machinery Construction Mining
Earth Moving Machine bulldozer
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Heine Optotechnik endoscopes SF6
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bearings
01 - Data 543
Automotive
"STRONGER THAN TIME"
MercedesBenz GClass GWagon SUV OffRoad G500
Red Metallic
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02 - Data 054
Machinery Construction Mining
Earth Moving Machine bulldozer (Front-Side View)
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03 - Data 201
Tools GarageTools Inspection Diagnosis DiagnosisTools
Heine Optotechnik InspectionInstruments OpticalInstruments
endoscopes SF6 SF6-1000
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04 - Data 060
Parts AutoParts Aftermarket
bearings
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📰 I just updated my Pressfolio:
TAEVision Mechanics's Online Portfolio - Global Data - May 15, 2023
▸ TAEVision Mechanics's Online Portfolio (last update)
Global Data - May 15, 2023
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Hefei Yingiu Machinery Co., LTD is established in 2014. We have a wealth of experience in selling different kinds of machinery including excavators, wheel loaders, road rollers, backhoe loaders, motor grader, bulldozers, etc.
We also have different brands of construction machines such as CAT, Komatsu, SANY, Volvo, Hitachi, Doosan, SDLG, Liugong, etc.
Our machines come in all sizes, from small to large. You can provide us with the size you need, and we will recommend the most suitable model for you.
Our official website: https://www.yinjujx.com/
Welcome to contact us~
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It is very revealing that Israelis feel able to use their own bodies as preventatives against aid trucks getting into Ghazza. Obviously doing this requires betting on the assumption that your body can work as a barrier or as a shield—that is, that the operator of the machine will agree with your assessment of the mutually agreed-upon value of your body and your life. You cannot physically stop the truck. The only world in which you are stopping the truck is one with the correct personal and political circumstances to cause the operator of a truck to decide not to kill you.
This is something that is not always the case! Many people do not exist in those political circumstances! When nine or so people with the International Solidarity Movement tried to use their bodies to stop Israeli bulldozers from demolishing buildings in the Rafah refugee camp, the driver ran over Rachel Corrie twice, killing her. The activists, who had carried out similar actions in the past, expressed the understanding that they were putting themselves in danger, that there was every risk their lives would not have that agreed-upon, politicised ‘value.’
Israelis talk about feelings of “risk” and “danger”—but no one in Ghazza right now would see putting their body in front of a something as a reasonably sure means of blocking a path. Killing them would be not only acceptable collateral damage, but the point of the presence of the tanks and bombs in the first place. The evidence is clear about who is risking what, and what the real dangers are.
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Early morning workout Johnny who makes it a habit to run by your house every day at the stroke of 9.
He's got your routine down to a science. He's not a creep, he just likes a schedule. As do you.
He knows you'll be out on your porch by 8:45 with your cup of coffee. Just in time to watch him stride down through your cul-de-sac like some muscle wrapped machine.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Giving him a courteous wave, to which he politely returns with his own and million dollar smile. Sipping your warm brew, his sunlit silhouette disappearing in the distance to turn down the next street.
Except it all changes one fateful morning.
You weren't on your balcony. No coffee mug on the table. Not a single shred of evidence you had been home at all, other than the car in the driveway.
He makes one circle. Then another.
And another.
After the fourth, he's running low on fumes and you're still nowhere in sight. And amidst the fog of a draining runners high, he miscalculates his steps and smashes chest first into your mailbox.
Hurdling down with a thud, a few choice explatives that alert the neighbors and jolt you from the sleep you had been so deep within on your couch.
"Holy shit! Are you okay?" You call out, swinging the front door open. Hair a messy mop. Shirt warn and wrinkled and a thick crease running along the circumference of your cheek.
Soap is nothing more than an apologetic mess. Battling with a mud ladened 2x4 and peppered with an array of junk mail and enveloped bills.
"M'good, lass. M'good."
"You sure? That mailbox is basically destroyed. You must have hit it pretty damn hard."
You reach down, giving him a hand up to which you are given the strongest grip you have ever felt. Playing off a wince with a smile, letting your eyes take him in while he brushes off a layer of dirt and grass.
"Aye. Bulldozed straight into it. Sorry bout tha'."
You have off his apology, taking a gander at the damage and mentally beginning to plan out the finances to fix it.
"I can get ya a new one. If ya let me."
His deep brogue interrupts your thoughts. Raising a brow and a hand to block the bright morning sun.
"No, don't worry about it. It's an easy fix."
"Nah. Please. It's the least I can do, lass. Besides. I am the one at fault ya know."
You hesitate only for a moment. The blue of his eyes mirrored by the sunlit sky behind him. Feeling a certain pull towards him, as though those morning waves had cemented a bond that was only beginning to solidify in the morning sun.
"Okay."
"Aye? I'll be back after yer shift. 530 right?"
You push aside the fact that he knows your work schedule as he reaches out for a friendly handshake. His grip less firm, more cordial. Gentle, even.
"Yeah."
--
After an unremarkable shift that you wish to push deep into your memories, you sit out on your balcony with a refreshing drink in hand. Taking in the hard determination of your mailbox destroying neighbor as he singlehandedly hammers it into the ground.
You had offered to help, to which he emphatically responded with a solid 'no'.
"You've got good taste."
Your seal of approval is all he needs. Taking a welcome cold beer from your hands with that million dollar smile and a final hammering to cement the pillar into the soil.
"Thought it'd fit the style a yer home. Glad ya like it."
You begin to realize this runner is a man who misses nothing. His choice of mailbox color not too dissimilar to the one of your preferred coffee mug. The shade matching almost perfectly, only shifting in hue by the extravagant sunset.
"You hungry?"
Your politeness thankfully overshadows the sudden flush erupting within your chest. You'd blame it on the alcohol if he asked, but you know he'd see right through it.
Dinner starting innocently at the table, shifting seamlessly towards the living room and finishing the main course in your bedroom. Coming to a close in a cacophony of growls, moans, and the aroma of sex.
The pièce de résistance being the loud creak of the bed, falling to the floor in a heap of laughs and entangled bodies as he broke your walls and nestled himself into the chasm of your soul.
Under the Blue Moonlight Masterlist
Drabbles Masterlist
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