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airsoft tank is taking form. the turret was my roadblock because I frankly didn't have a clue on how to do it
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
algerian vs japanese beef on my tl u truly never know what the next xitter discourse is gonna be
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Airsoft in Switzerland can be so weirdly polite. Like we shoot each other too close by accidents and we apologise almost instantly
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
I studied criminology at uni so I feel qualified to say that as long as a crime is funny, it shouldn’t be illegal.
Authorities executed a traffic stop on two men who were caught behind the handlebars of a leather couch that had been mounted on two e-scooters.
"While we appreciate the creativity, we do have to remind everyone: no matter what you’re 'driving,' please think about safety."
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
Progress doesn't have to be paid for in lives
When construction began on the Golden Gate Bridge in 1933, there was a grim expectation that men would die. At the time, it was simply considered the cost of progress. For every million dollars spent on a major bridge, one worker was fe.
The Golden Gate was budgeted at $35 million. By the math of that era, thirty-five men were expected to never return home.
Joseph Strauss, the chief engineer, refused to accept those odds.
He mandated hard hats—leather helmets that looked like football gear—at a time when most construction sites offered no head protection at all. He banned alcohol on-site and fired any worker caught showboating or taking unnecessary risks. He even provided sauerkraut juice to help with hangovers.
But his most radical decision came in 1936, when assistant engineer Clifford Paine convinced him to try something unprecedented. Strauss ordered a massive safety net to be hung beneath the entire span of the bridge.
It cost $130,000—a fortune during the Great Depression. The net stretched ten feet wider than the roadway and extended fifteen feet past the ends of the floor. Critics called it excessive, but Strauss fought for it anyway.
The net saved nineteen men.
The workers who fell into it formed an exclusive group. When a bridgeman died, his coworkers often said he had "gone to hell." Because these men had only fallen halfway, they called themselves the Halfway to Hell Club.
Al Zampa fell sixty feet on a fog-slick October morning in 1936, flipping backward three times before the net caught him. He broke four vertebrae, and newspapers initially feared he wouldn't survive. Yet, twelve weeks later, he walked across a narrow beam on the unfinished bridge just to prove his nerve was still intact.
On December 14, 1936, six club members posed for a famous photograph, standing together on the steel framework. Al Zampa missed the photo—he was still home recovering from his broken back.
The net didn't just save lives; it made the workers braver. They moved faster and with more confidence, knowing they had a safety horizontal below. One bridgeman later noted that the work actually accelerated because of the net.
For nearly four years, the project seemed blessed. Then, on February 17, 1937, a heavy scaffold collapsed. It tore through the safety net, dragging twelve men down into the bay. Ten of them died.
In total, eleven workers lost their lives building the Golden Gate Bridge. It should have been thirty-five.
Joseph Strauss proved that worker safety wasn't a luxury—it was a choice. When the bridge opened on May 27, 1937, nearly 200,000 people walked across it on the very first day. Al Zampa lived to be ninety-five years old.
The Halfway to Hell Club remains a quiet monument to the idea that progress doesn't have to be paid for in lives.
When construction began on the Golden Gate Bridge in 1933, there was a grim expectation that men would die. At the time, it was simply considered the cost of progress. For every million dollars spent on a major bridge, one worker was fe.
The Golden Gate was budgeted at $35 million. By the math of that era, thirty-five men were expected to never return home.
Joseph Strauss, the chief engineer, refused to accept those odds.
He mandated hard hats—leather helmets that looked like football gear—at a time when most construction sites offered no head protection at all. He banned alcohol on-site and fired any worker caught showboating or taking unnecessary risks. He even provided sauerkraut juice to help with hangovers.
But his most radical decision came in 1936, when assistant engineer Clifford Paine convinced him to try something unprecedented. Strauss ordered a massive safety net to be hung beneath the entire span of the bridge.
It cost $130,000—a fortune during the Great Depression. The net stretched ten feet wider than the roadway and extended fifteen feet past the ends of the floor. Critics called it excessive, but Strauss fought for it anyway.
The net saved nineteen men.
The workers who fell into it formed an exclusive group. When a bridgeman died, his coworkers often said he had "gone to hell." Because these men had only fallen halfway, they called themselves the Halfway to Hell Club.
Al Zampa fell sixty feet on a fog-slick October morning in 1936, flipping backward three times before the net caught him. He broke four vertebrae, and newspapers initially feared he wouldn't survive. Yet, twelve weeks later, he walked across a narrow beam on the unfinished bridge just to prove his nerve was still intact.
On December 14, 1936, six club members posed for a famous photograph, standing together on the steel framework. Al Zampa missed the photo—he was still home recovering from his broken back.
The net didn't just save lives; it made the workers braver. They moved faster and with more confidence, knowing they had a safety horizontal below. One bridgeman later noted that the work actually accelerated because of the net.
For nearly four years, the project seemed blessed. Then, on February 17, 1937, a heavy scaffold collapsed. It tore through the safety net, dragging twelve men down into the bay. Ten of them died.
In total, eleven workers lost their lives building the Golden Gate Bridge. It should have been thirty-five.
Joseph Strauss proved that worker safety wasn't a luxury—it was a choice. When the bridge opened on May 27, 1937, nearly 200,000 people walked across it on the very first day. Al Zampa lived to be ninety-five years old.
The Halfway to Hell Club remains a quiet monument to the idea that progress doesn't have to be paid for in lives.
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
Lufthansa mit dem Money-Grab des Jahres.
Einfach fehlerhafte Bauteile aus der Montage als Upcycling-Designermöbel verkaufen.
Noch schnell einen absurden Preis aufrufen, und fertig.
Einfach fehlerhafte Bauteile aus der Montage als Upcycling-Designermöbel verkaufen.
Noch schnell einen absurden Preis aufrufen, und fertig.
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
The future of our seal rescue centre is financially uncertain. This is the harsh reality we’re facing. 🥺🦭
But what if thousands of people gave €1? A small donation can make a big difference. ❤️🩹 Will you help us?
➡️ Donate €1: steun.zeehondencentrum.nl/1-euro-campaig…
Thank you so much. 🙏
But what if thousands of people gave €1? A small donation can make a big difference. ❤️🩹 Will you help us?
➡️ Donate €1: steun.zeehondencentrum.nl/1-euro-campaig…
Thank you so much. 🙏
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Zana🇨🇭 retweeted
With a heavy heart we must announce that Seal Centre Pieterburen Foundation will likely have to file for bankruptcy within 2 weeks. 😭 This threatens to bring an end to our rescue of seals in need, just as the new pup season is about to begin.
Read more: zeehondencentrum.nl/nieuws/zeehond…
Read more: zeehondencentrum.nl/nieuws/zeehond…
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