Historical
The Real Mermaids: Captured on Camera
When someone mentions a mermaid, what pops into your head? Probably the classic, beautiful image we all know from stories and movies. But honestly, if mermaids do exist, wouldn’t they be more like, well, a fish? Think about it: kind of nasty, scaly, maybe slimy, and a little slippery. Their hair wouldn’t exactly be flowing and perfect, not after soaking in saltwater forever!
By Areeba Umair11 months ago in FYI
The Girl Who Cries Diamonds: A 1996 Mystery That Still Shines Today
It’s Saturday, December 13, 2025, and while I was thinking about what to chat about today, I stumbled across one of those utterly bizarre stories from the past that makes you wish it were a superpower you could unlock. Honestly, I wish I had this gift. There’s a tale about a girl who seems to have the real-life ability to cry crystal tears. Now that’s pretty cool and, let’s be honest, pretty convenient, right? Imagine: watch a sad movie, buy a house!
By Areeba Umair11 months ago in FYI
Do You Live in a House or a Home?
Nine out of ten people misuse the words “house” and “home” without giving it a second thought. Even real estate agents who should know better misuse the word “home.” Perhaps no one has had the heart to tell them the difference. Do you know there is a difference?
By Margaret Minnicks11 months ago in FYI
Being the Black Sheep in the Family is Not Always Negative
You might have been labeled the black sheep of your family by you or other family members. Most people think being the black sheep of the family is a bad thing. However, being the black sheep of the family is not always derogatory.
By Margaret Minnicks11 months ago in FYI
Lapis Lazuli: The Power Stone in Heaven and Earth
Lapis Lazuli leads to controversy Lapis Lazuli is considered a powerful healing stone and is listed in the Bible with other gemstones. Some theorize based on the Book of Enoch that fallen angels gave man forbidden knowledge, but I don't know if the use of gemstones is included.
By Cheryl E Preston11 months ago in FYI
Why Paul Haggis News Is Lighting Up RIFF 2025 in the Most Surprising Way
When the latest Paul Haggis News broke confirming that the Academy Award–winning filmmaker will guide the artistic direction of the RIFF Awards 2025, the announcement didn’t feel like another festival update - it felt like a creative awakening.
By Paul Haggis News11 months ago in FYI
Ba'athism Once Dominated the Middle East... Now It's Gone
On December 8, 2024, Bashar al-Assad fled Damascus for Russia as rebel forces closed in on the Syrian capital. With that flight, a 54-year dynasty collapsed—and with it, the last Ba’athist government on Earth. When ideologies die, they usually leave echoes behind: nostalgia, apologists, half-remembered myths. Soviet communism still has its devotees. Fascism, nearly a century after its defeat, continues to find admirers in parts of the West. Ba’athism, by contrast, leaves almost nothing behind at all. Today, it holds exactly one elected seat anywhere in the world—a single representative in Lebanon’s parliament, who may well be the last Ba’athist ever chosen by voters.
By Lawrence Lease11 months ago in FYI
Art That Whispers: The Hidden Messages Lurking Inside Famous Masterpieces
More Than Just Pretty Pictures Celebrated artworks are so much more than beautiful things to look at. Many legendary painters, Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Botticelli, Van Eyck, and Picasso, were not just artists. They were masters of symbolism, puzzle-makers who embedded clues, codes, and even hidden images inside their canvases.
By Areeba Umair11 months ago in FYI
I Learned Who I Really Am After Saying ‘No’ for 30 Days
M Mehran FYI: I used to be a “yes” person. Not because I liked helping everyone, but because I was terrified of disappointing people—or worse, being alone. Every invitation, every favor, every last-minute plan—I said yes. Always yes. Until I realized yes was exhausting me. So, I made a decision: for 30 days, I would say nothing but no. No to social obligations. No to work tasks that weren’t mine. No to anything that drained me. FYI: I had no idea how hard it would be. The first day, my phone buzzed with a friend asking for help moving a couch. Normally, I would have dropped everything and sprinted over. But this time, I replied: “No, I can’t.” The silence that followed my message felt deafening. My heart raced. My stomach ached. I imagined them hating me, thinking I had changed, that I was selfish. FYI: It was terrifying. But then something incredible happened. Nothing exploded. My friend didn’t call me a monster. They just… managed. They survived without me. And so did I. Over the next week, I started noticing things I hadn’t before. The mornings were quieter. My energy returned. I had time to read, to write, to think without distractions. I even found myself smiling more. FYI: Saying no gave me space to hear myself. By the second week, I faced the hardest challenges. My boss asked me to take on a project that wasn’t mine. Family members asked for favors I normally would have done without complaint. Old friends invited me to events I didn’t want to attend. Every time, I repeated it in my head: No. And every time, a tiny part of me felt lighter, freer, more… me. Then something unexpected happened. People started noticing. My boss asked me why I seemed calmer and more focused. A friend said, “You seem happier lately.” And another friend admitted that my saying no inspired them to set boundaries too. FYI: I didn’t just gain time. I gained respect—for myself and from others. By week three, I stopped feeling guilty. I stopped over-explaining. I stopped trying to justify my choices. I realized that my worth wasn’t tied to how many yeses I could pile onto my plate. My worth was intrinsic. My happiness was not negotiable. And the best part? I started noticing things I had been missing. Long walks without checking my phone. Meals without distractions. Conversations that were real, deep, and intentional. My creativity returned, bubbling up from corners of my mind I had long ignored. FYI: I didn’t just say no. I said yes—to myself. On day 30, I reflected on the month. I realized something: my life had not become smaller. It had become richer. Fuller. More vibrant. I had stopped living to please others and started living to honor myself. FYI: Boundaries aren’t just rules. They’re declarations of self-respect. After the challenge, I didn’t go back to saying yes to everything. I chose selectively, deliberately, intentionally. Some yeses are still part of my life—but they are meaningful. And every no is a reminder of the freedom I discovered. Now, I approach life differently. I focus on things that matter. I invest in people who value me, not just take from me. I spend my energy wisely. I live deliberately. FYI: Saying no for 30 days didn’t make me selfish. It made me whole. So here’s my advice if you feel drained, overcommitted, or invisible: try saying no. Protect your energy. Prioritize yourself. You don’t have to justify it, and you don’t have to apologize. FYI: Saying no might feel scary at first—but it will show you who you really are. And honestly? Who you really are is worth discovering
By Muhammad Mehran11 months ago in FYI
The Memory Merchant
M Mehran Most people in the city walked past the narrow brick storefront without ever seeing it. The sign over the door was small, hand-painted in fading silver letters: FYI: Curiosities & Corrections. Corrections, in this sense, meant memories. I found it on a cold afternoon when my phone died right as I needed directions. I ducked inside hoping for an outlet. Instead, I stepped into a room that smelled like cinnamon and old paper. Shelves overflowed with jars—small ones, tall ones, squat ones shaped like teapots, each containing something glowing faintly inside. “Careful with those,” a voice said. A man emerged from behind the counter. Tall, thin, hair silver as frost. “They’re memories.” I blinked. “You mean… metaphors? Like journals?” “No, no,” he said with a patient smile. “Actual memories. People trade them. People buy them. People let them go.” I was too tired to laugh. Too curious to leave. “FYI,” he continued, gesturing to the shelves, “memory is far less reliable than most believe. Your brain rewrites events every time you recall them. These”—he tapped a jar—“are first drafts. The originals.” Inside the jar, a tiny swirl of gold shivered, like a firefly trapped in syrup. “You’re kidding.” He shrugged. “Try one.” --- He handed me a jar labeled Copenhagen, 1971 – First Snowfall. “Open it. Just a crack.” The moment the lid loosened, something slipped into me—a cold breath of air, a child’s gasp, the fluttering brightness of flakes landing on eyelashes. For three seconds, I was a kid in Denmark, snow soaking through my mittens, my heart ballooning with awe. I snapped the lid shut, trembling. “What—how—” “Neuroscience plus a little craftsmanship,” he said. “Long story.” He watched me with the polite distance of someone waiting for a reaction he had seen a thousand times. “That was incredible,” I whispered. “As it should be. First memories are the purest.” Then he leaned forward. “Would you like to trade one of yours?” --- I should have walked away. I should have thanked him and left and blamed the strange experience on exhaustion and low blood sugar. But curiosity has always been my worst habit. “What kind of memory do you want?” I asked. “Something you don’t mind losing,” he said. “Preferably something personal. But not essential. Nothing foundational, unless you want side effects. FYI: remove a core memory and your personality shifts.” “Side effects?” “Confusion. Emotional dissonance. In extreme cases, feeling like a stranger to yourself.” He said it as calmly as a doctor describing mild dizziness. I thought about the memories I held. There were bad ones. The night my brother left. The argument with my father that still woke me sometimes. But the idea of losing them felt like cheating, like tearing chapters out of a book because I didn’t like the plot. “I’ll trade a small one,” I said finally. “Something harmless.” He nodded approvingly. “Good. Harmless is always safer.” I closed my eyes. “I have one—learning to ride my bike when I was six. The moment I realized my dad had let go.” “Oh,” he said softly. “That one matters.” “Does it?” “Do you want to forget your father’s faith in you?” That made me pause. Memories, I realized, weren’t isolated. They linked to everything else. “Okay… what about the time I learned to whistle?” He smiled. “Perfect.” He asked me to place my fingertips on a small copper bowl. It warmed under my hands. I felt something tug—more emotional than physical—and then the faintest pop, like a bubble bursting deep inside my mind. He handed me a new jar filled with pale blue light. First Whistle – Age 8. “Keep it,” he said. “Your first trade is free.” I waited for some sense of loss, but there was nothing. I knew I had learned to whistle once, but the memory of it sat behind a translucent curtain. More idea than experience. It didn’t hurt. “Why do people do this?” I asked. “Because people want to feel again,” he said. “Not just think. FYI: emotions fade faster than facts. I sell the feeling of first times.”
By Muhammad Mehran11 months ago in FYI
The Thailand-Cambodia Conflict is Growing
Today, Southeast Asia is standing on a knife’s edge. Thailand and Cambodia—neighbors with a long, tangled past—are once again trading heavy fire across their disputed border. It’s the second time this year the two have gone at each other’s throats, and the fragile ceasefire brokered with help from Washington has all but collapsed. Civilians are fleeing by the hundreds of thousands, the rhetoric is getting uglier, and neither government seems willing to step back from the edge.
By Lawrence Lease11 months ago in FYI
