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Africa
Joined October 2017
在屠宰场干了5年,告诉你一个秘密:动物今天要死,它们全都知道 我在屠宰场干了整整五年,每天跟猪牛羊打交道,见过的生死场面成千上万。说句掏心窝子的话,没入这行之前,我跟大伙儿一样,觉得牲口嘛,吃吃睡睡,稀里糊涂一辈子,哪懂什么生死。可五年下来,我摸透了它们每一个眼神、每一个动作,才发现自己当初多天真——这些不会说话的家伙,心里跟明镜似的,自己哪天走,清清楚楚。 平日里,待宰圈那叫一个热闹。猪拱猪、羊顶羊,抢食的打闹的,眼神清亮温顺,该吃吃该喝喝,天塌下来都不耽误长膘。可一到屠宰当天,那气氛说变就变,比翻书还快。整圈牲畜像商量好了似的,瞬间安静下来,挤成一团,紧紧挨着彼此,浑身抖得跟筛糠一样。那抖不是冻的,是打骨头缝里渗出来的恐惧。你赶它走,它四只脚死死扒着地,几百斤的大猪平时一轰就跑,那天愣是钉在原地往后缩,好像前面那条通道是鬼门关。老话讲“万物有灵”,我原先半信半疑,后来彻底信了。 牛的表现更让人心里发酸。但凡当天要走的牛,从早上起就不吃不喝,低着头杵在墙角,一动不动。我亲眼见过无数次,大颗大颗的泪珠子顺着牛眼角往下滚,湿漉漉的眼睛望着你,不挣不扎不吼叫,就那么默默流泪。有一回,一头养了好几年的老牛被主人牵来,主人站栏杆外看了一眼,那牛瞬间红了眼眶,直勾勾盯着主人,温顺又卑微,一步三回头地跟着我们走。那画面,我这辈子忘不掉。羊也一样,平时蹦蹦跳跳软软糯糯,临了却异常安静,紧紧偎着同伴发抖。赶别的羊成群往前冲,唯独那天,你推我挤谁都不肯带头,偶尔被单独牵出来的小羊,发出细细的凄厉叫声,不是闹腾,是真害怕。 时间一长,我们工人不用看单据不用记编号,单凭状态就能判断个八九不离十——活蹦乱跳的是来日方长,沉默发抖、不吃不喝、眼神惶恐的,全是今日宿命。你说它们听不懂人话、看不懂流程,怎么就掐得这么准?其实道理不复杂,流水线一开,前面的同伴一个个消失再没回来,后面的全看在眼里;环境里那股肃杀的气息、同类压抑的悲鸣,它们比人敏感百倍。俗话说“蝼蚁尚且贪生”,何况这些大牲口?它们沉默、发抖、流泪,不是傻,是无力回天的绝望。 五年下来,我这心态彻底翻了个个儿。刚入行那会儿年轻心硬,只当是谋生糊口的活儿,见多了也就麻木了。可干得越久,心越软,越觉得该存一份敬畏。走出屠宰场,我再也不糟蹋粮食,每一块肉背后都是一条热烈活过、恐惧过、挣扎过的命。它们从出生到落幕,没做错任何事,却坦然接受了既定的安排。反观咱们,衣食无忧平安顺遂,倒常常为鸡毛蒜皮纠结、为一点得失内耗,想想真有点滑稽。 所以你看,活着本身就是天大的福气。所有的矫情、焦虑、委屈,搁在生死面前,屁都不是。心存敬畏,懂得珍惜,善待万物,大概就是人这辈子最好的修行。说到这儿我倒想问问你——下次端起饭碗的时候,会不会也想起那些沉默发抖的生灵,然后觉得,眼前这口热乎饭,真香?
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9?👀 Do you remember when you joined X? I do! #MyXAnniversary
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"Caricatured giraffe" by grok in 2024
🤖 Made with AI
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2026, rather. Why is error correction a premium option though
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
Dog protects baby💝💝
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
Don't worry they are just playing 🥺🥺🥺
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Residents living around Lake Victoria in Kenya witnessed a rare phenomenon yesterday, a waterspout, locally known as “Nyakoi.” A waterspout is a rotating column of air and water mist that forms over a body of water.
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In Brazil, street surveillance cameras recorded a funny moment where a “husband running away from his wife,” a “cat escaping a dog,” and a “thief fleeing from the police” all appeared at the same time. 😂
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
With manual cameras , manual focus, no motor drive, it was such a challenge to try to capture his dreadlocks. So now I’m in my seventies, I can think of nothing more enjoyable than sharing a photograph, from my archive, and here’s the personal favourite… the great Bob Marley at his one and only gig in Ireland… from my old negatives
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
Had a parent-teacher conference this morning My wife told me not to come I came anyway She said "please just listen and nod" I said "I always listen" She said "you listen like you're sitting in a boardroom looking for something to challenge" That's how listening works Nice classroom Small chairs I am 6'4" and was seated at a desk designed for someone who still believes in Santa Claus My knees touched my chest The teacher introduced herself Shared her identified pronouns I shared my identified adjectives Smart and handsome My wife closed her eyes The teacher had a folder Color-coded tabs I respected the organization She said our son is "a pleasure to have in class" My wife smiled I waited That sentence is never the whole report It's the executive summary before the risk section She said "however" There it is She said he "asks a lot of questions" I said "good" She said "during quiet time" I said "when is quiet time?" She said "it's when students are expected to work independently and in silence" I said "so he's the only one trying to get information and you've structured the environment to prevent it?" My wife put her hand on my arm I continued The teacher said he recently told another student that "sharing pencils doesn't make sense if nobody brings their own" I said "that's an accurate observation" My wife squeezed harder The teacher said she's concerned about his "resistance to group activities" I said "he's not resistant. He just doesn't see the value of doing more work for the same grade." The teacher said he also corrected her math on the whiteboard I said "was he right?" She paused She said "that's not the point" I said "it's a little bit the point" My wife stood up Sat back down Compromise The teacher pulled out an evaluation sheet Categories like "works well with others" and "follows directions" and "respects classroom norms" All subjective Not a number on the page I asked how these are graded She said "based on observation" I said "so one person's opinion with no second review?" She said "it's professional judgment" I said "my auditors say that too. Right before I disagree with them." She looked at my wife My wife said "I'm sorry about him" I said "I'm sitting right here" My wife said "I know" The teacher said overall he's a bright kid and she just wants to make sure he learns to "collaborate" I said "collaboration is important. But so is recognizing when you're the only one doing the work. He'll learn that again in college. And again in the real world. Might as well start now." Nobody spoke The teacher closed her folder She said "I think we've covered everything" I said "one more thing" She braced herself I said "his reading is above grade level. His math is strong. He asks hard questions and corrects mistakes when he sees them. I just want to make sure this school knows what it has." The teacher looked at me differently My wife looked at me differently I said "that's all" We left In the car my wife was quiet Then she said "he's turning into you" I said "is that a good thing?" She didn't answer From the backseat he said "dad, why does the teacher count off for asking questions? Isn't that the whole point of school?" I looked at my wife She looked out the window I said "yes. It is." He said "I don't think she likes when I'm right" I didn't say anything Neither did my wife Small chairs Color-coded tabs No follow-up items But the kid's going to be fine Sent from my iPhone
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
What’s the hardest English word for you to pronounce??? Mine’s schedule. For someone who use the word a lot🥶🥶
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
"She saved a stranger’s child with $15. Decades later, she discovered why he had been searching for her. In 1982, a Kenyan boy named Chris Mburu stood on the brink of losing everything. He was the brightest student in his rural district, studying by lamplight inside an earthen house without electricity. But his family could not afford his school fees. Without help, his education would end — along with any chance of escaping a life spent picking coffee in the fields. Meanwhile, across the world in Sweden, an 80-year-old kindergarten teacher named Hilde Back came across a notice for a child sponsorship program. She chose a name from a list: Chris Mburu, Kenya. She began sending $15 every school term. There was no recognition, no expectation of gratitude — just a quiet decision to help a child she believed she would never meet. That small amount changed everything. Chris stayed in school. Over time, he and Hilde exchanged letters. She asked about his teachers, his studies, and his dreams. Through her words, he realized she wasn’t just part of an organization. She was a real person who believed in him. And he never forgot her. Chris eventually graduated at the top of his law class at the University of Nairobi. He later earned a Fulbright scholarship to Harvard. He went on to become a United Nations human rights lawyer, helping prosecute genocide and crimes against humanity around the world. Yet one thing always weighed on his heart. He had never properly thanked the woman who made his journey possible. In truth, he barely knew who she was. In 2001, Chris founded a scholarship program for children like himself — talented students from poor families whose potential might otherwise be lost. He asked the Swedish Ambassador in Kenya to help him locate his mysterious sponsor so he could name the foundation after her. They found her. Hilde Back. Still alive. Still living quietly in Sweden. Chris traveled to meet her for the first time. He expected to meet a wealthy philanthropist. Instead, he found a humble, warm woman living simply — genuinely surprised that anyone considered her actions remarkable. Then filmmaker Jennifer Arnold began documenting their reunion. During her research, she uncovered something Hilde had never told Chris. Hilde Back had not been born in Sweden. She was born in Nazi Germany in 1922 to a Jewish family. At sixteen, when Hitler’s Nuremberg Laws banned Jewish children from attending school, strangers helped smuggle her to Sweden. Her parents stayed behind because Sweden’s refugee policies did not allow older Jews to enter. Both were later sent to concentration camps. Her father died there. Her mother disappeared, never to be heard from again. Hilde survived the Holocaust because strangers helped her escape. She lost her own education because of who she was. Fifty years later, she quietly paid for the education of a child across the world — a child who would grow up to fight the same hatred that destroyed her family. When Chris learned her story, he wept. Hilde, meanwhile, had no idea that the boy she sponsored had devoted his life to prosecuting genocide. In 2003, Hilde traveled to Kenya for the inauguration of the Hilde Back Education Fund. The entire village welcomed her as an honorary elder. In 2012, she returned again to celebrate her 90th birthday, surrounded by hundreds of children whose futures had been transformed through her generosity. Hilde Back passed away on January 13, 2021, at the age of 98. Today, the Hilde Back Education Fund has supported nearly 1,000 Kenyan children in continuing their education. Many have graduated from universities around the world. Many now give back — mentoring younger students and contributing monthly donations to support the next generation. One woman. Fifteen dollars. One child. That child created a foundation. That foundation changed hundreds of lives. And those lives continue to change others.
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
Hahahaha forget every edit you’ve seen before, this guy is an absolute maniac! 😂🔥🤯
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In late 1800s, a quiet man with a camera wandered the windswept plains of southwestern France. His name was Félix Arnaudin, and what he captured was a way of life already fading into memory. Among his most haunting images were the shepherds of the Landes, perched on towering wooden stilts known as échasses. Dressed in thick wool cloaks and wide-brimmed hats, these men weren’t performers or curiosities—they were survivors of the bog. Their stilts lifted them above the wet, uneven ground, allowing them to watch their flocks and travel long distances across the sodden heather. Through Arnaudin’s lens, these shepherds appear as tall, ghostly silhouettes on the flat horizon—figures shaped by wind, mud, and patience. Their solitude is almost sacred. Their balance, a quiet defiance against the elements. But progress was coming. Wetlands were drained. Pine forests were planted. Roads were paved. The stilts were lowered, then lost. Arnaudin knew what was slipping away. He devoted his life to preserving the faces, stories, and songs of his homeland. His photographs, now preserved in museums, aren’t just records—they are elegies. Thanks to him, the stilt-walking shepherds of Gascony are not forgotten. They remain—tall and still—etched in silver and light, standing guard over a past too proud to disappear completely. © Reddit #archaeohistories
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
DOCUMENT things during construction, especially during good times when everybody is happy- more so when everyone is smiling. Work like there will be a dispute.
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M'Art Esquire retweeted
When a 70-year-old car does things your modern car can't.
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