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<PERSON>'s interpretation, <PERSON> cautions her students: "it's necessary to express the words, and the words aren't your words, they are the words of <PERSON>." Here, <PERSON> invites us, like the students seated in the theater, to contemplate the work of the text, for he believed, "The work is always much more interesting to show than the result. I can watch a coppersmith in a <PERSON> film for three hours. A caldron, even if it is the most beautiful in the world, I will have viewed from all angles in three minutes" (qtd. in <PERSON> 29).
During other rehearsals, the actresses perform passages from the classic works of seventeenth-century dramatists, such as <PERSON> little-known tragedy _Suréna,_ <PERSON> _Iphigénie_ and _Esther,_ and <PERSON> comedy _Les femmes savantes_. The continual shifting between theatrical registers throughout the film forces our attention to the notion of performance. At one point, <PERSON> reproaches <PERSON> for her overwrought interpretation of a passage from _The Double Inconstancy_ and admonishes her for transforming <PERSON>'s comedy into a tragedy. <PERSON> counters that she knows how the passage should be interpreted, as other students in the class join in to respond with this light ditty: "I don't want a <PERSON> and I want a <PERSON> even less. Tra, la, la... I want my friend <PERSON>, who is now in prison." The lyrics foreshadow the fate of <PERSON>'s romantic involvement with <PERSON>, who is later arrested and wrongly convicted of a crime.
In the film, <PERSON>'s boyfriend, <PERSON>, appears only as a televised image and voice broadcast over the radio. <PERSON> bases his characterization on a _fait divers_ detailing the infamous trial of French writer <PERSON> that was taking place in Rouen at the time of the shoot. <PERSON> had already been convicted and served time for petty theft, a crime that he denied. Following his release, he was again picked up for theft and placed in a high-security prison. <PERSON> constantly fought against his false imprisonment and became a _causecélèbre_ within the French intellectual and artistic community. <PERSON> even provided the preface of <PERSON>'s book, entitled _Q.H.S.: Quartier de haute sécurité_ (1980). After the left gained power in 1981, <PERSON> received a retrial and was at last liberated. His subsequent arrest and trial, which was concurrent with the filming of _La bande des quatre,_ were discursively constructed by the right-wing press as symptomatic of the laxity of the left and the irresponsibility of intellectuals. The tragic dimensions of <PERSON>, who <PERSON> viewed as "a modern-day <PERSON>," inflect his filmic representation of <PERSON> (qtd. in <PERSON> 95). <PERSON> confides, "In this film, I wanted to look at, along with the little predicaments of my actresses, the dramatic aspect of our lives in contemporary France" (qtd. in <PERSON> 95).
Figure 12. The rehearsal of _Suréna_ , where students discuss <PERSON> escape in _La bande des quatre._
To stage a mock trial of <PERSON>/<PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and <PERSON> band together in a room whose strident red, white, and blue decor invokes the symbolic colors of French
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land of the living and the dead. Just as she is catching her breath in a cab, a piece of hard candy unexpectedly emerges from her mouth. Pieces of candy continue to allow both heroines the latitude to move back and forth freely between the space of the Phantom House and that of the city. Bonbons make available to them an interior story, which takes place in the manner of the dramatization of _The Other House_ from which it is derived, in the halls that interconnect drawing rooms to stairwells. The rigid camera that frames the characters' violent gestures and histrionic responses accentuates the restricted, theatrical space that they inhabit. The theatricality of the Phantom House draws not only on the melodramatic manner of the stage but also silent cinema. As <PERSON> remarks, "It's an entire epoch... a school! The Odeon. A tragedy.... They smell like mothballs." This parallel world not only holds an irresistible fascination for its heroines <PERSON> and <PERSON> but also for <PERSON>, who remembers his first encounter with "the <PERSON>, the <PERSON>, the <PERSON>, all the cinema of the 1910s and 1920s," which left him with "the very strong feeling that there had actually been in the great films of <PERSON> and <PERSON> and <PERSON>, or the first films of <PERSON> and <PERSON>, an innocence, which had been irretrievably lost" (qtd. in <PERSON>, _Secret_ 64). The parallel world, which the heroines revisit, thus evokes not only the innocence of a childhood memory for them but also the innocence of an art form, which is shadowed by its theatrical ancestor.
Céline and <PERSON> command an authoritative use of the double or _bia_ to return to the Phantom House, where they revisit the curious female characters of early crime melodrama and uncover an infanticide. Theatricalization opens up the possibility of transformation for <PERSON> and <PERSON>, who self-consciously deploy theatrical conventions to reenvision their roles and thereby liberate themselves and their cohort <PERSON> from "scripted" lives. Wearing matching magical dinosaur rings, the heroines arrive together at the Phantom House and quickly retire to a vacated room, where they dress in identical nurses' uniforms. After their arrival at the house, the heroines rapidly transform it, selecting their own dressing room, similar to the one occupied by <PERSON> in _La_ _religieuse_. Before their entrance onto central stage, they click their rings together and recite an esoteric chant: "One, two, three. Eye of a lynx and head of wood!" While this singsong mantra is intended to bring the two heroines good luck, it also magically breaks time and space within the house into three dramatic acts. <PERSON> and <PERSON> recite it three times just prior to their alternating performances as Miss <PERSON>, imposing an ulterior dramatic logic that had not been previously apparent. They also transform stately salons into theatrical wings where they can meet backstage between acts to relax and have a smoke, clown around, or exchange notes on their criminal investigation. They are unable to adjust their acting style to the manner of stagey melodrama, however, for they arrive late, muff
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is absorbed, it will become a permanent part of the soul's experience. Level 2, for example, is all about learning to cooperate with others. From that point on, an understanding of the importance of cooperation will be with the soul throughout all its lives on this plane.
The Ten Soul Ages
The young soul chain:
• The Level 1 soul
• The Level 2 soul
• The Level 3 soul
• The Level 4 soul
• The Level 5 soul | The old soul chain:
• The Level 6 soul
• The Level 7 soul
• The Level 8 soul
• The Level 9 soul
• The Level 10 soul
---|---
As we progress through each level, we learn lessons that are appropriate for the experience of our soul. As we battle with the Illusion, we learn to overcome the risk and embrace the advantage associated with each stage of our soul's growth.
Advantages, Risks, and the Illusion
The Illusion is, quite simply, the belief that what you see is all there is—that life begins and ends on the Physical Plane.
Risks are the result of ignoring your soul's guidance, and prevent you from experiencing everything your soul wants you to in your lifetime.
Living the life your soul intended requires that you break through the barrier of the Illusion. The way to do that is to follow your soul's guidance by embracing the advantage associated with each element of the Instruction.
Every single person on the planet has the ability to overcome the Illusion. They simply have to want to.
As it makes its way through its many lifetimes, the soul gradually casts aside the Illusion to overcome fear and self-interest. Each lifetime builds on the successes and failures of the last, until we finally learn that love and understanding are the forces that unite us.
Young Souls
The Level 1 Soul
**_Advantage: Identification_**
**_Risk: Apprehension_**
In their first few lives, Level 1 souls deliberately avoid having to deal with the modern world. They feel apprehensive about being on a planet where everyone seems to know the rules but them.
They usually choose to live in small communities where they can avoid complexity. In simple cultures, these novice souls learn to take their first steps, often through learning trades or skills that will support them.
The Level 1 Need for Simplicity
The Level 1 soul is easily overwhelmed by technology and complexity. You wouldn't take a three-year-old from a remote farm in Idaho, place it on the corner of fourteenth and third in downtown Manhattan, and expect it to know how to safely cross the street.
Nor can you transport a Level 1 soul from the simplicity of an isolated village and expect it to fit into the rough and tumble of corporate life on Wall Street.
Level 1 souls create rules and rituals that give them a sense of security. It's all part of learning what it is to be human.
The advantage associated with being a Level 1 soul is identification: learning to see yourself as an individual and,
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camp in Germany. In that lifetime, she was a young man, married to the woman who is now her daughter.
In the previous lifetime, <PERSON> was a young Japanese sailor who died from shrapnel wounds to the abdomen in a battle at sea.
Before that, she was a Czech student in Bohemia who killed himself with poison rather than face compulsory military service.
During much of the nineteenth century, <PERSON> was a woman in a community that later became a cooperative in India. Being psychic, she was feared by her employers, who strangled her in her sleep.
In the lifetime before that, she was a young man in the English county of Devon, who married his girlfriend against her father's wishes. After the father retaliated by mutilating his face, the young man fled the area, ending up in the Navy, where he died of scurvy at age thirty-five.
<PERSON> was a German priest in the lifetime we looked at next. He was strangled and disemboweled by a group of religious reformers who were angered by his refusal to renounce his religion.
When the uprising of Uruguayan peasants he'd instigated failed, <PERSON>, again male, died in prison after being turned in by his paternal grandmother, who hated him for his resemblance to the husband she hated.
As a pioneer farmer in Quebec, her husband stabbed her to death for her inheritance.
In Holland in the late 1500s, she was a boy who lost his parents around the age of five. He went to live with relatives in the mountains of Austria, and died of measles after a long and happy life.
In the last lifetime we explored, <PERSON> was a young Frenchman who died on the first night of his visit to relatives in the Border region of Scotland. He'd just settled down for the evening, when he was reluctantly dragged into a fight with neighboring cattle thieves. By morning, he had bled to death.
My initial reaction was that <PERSON>'s last ten incarnations seemed unusually full of hardship and dramatic death. I asked my Causal guides for their opinion and they said, "The history of the world is brutal, and often lives are short and tragic. <PERSON>'s lives are unusual only in that she suffered death through disease in just two of ten incarnations."
And you may be interested to know that during the span of these ten lives, <PERSON> had several brief incarnations in which she died in infancy.
It's purely coincidental, by the way, that most of her recent lives have been as a male. We all bounce from gender to gender and location to location as we progress through our lives on Earth.
Confronting the Past
A client once asked me, "Why isn't my soul smart enough to tell the difference between this life and those in the past?"
To put it simply, your soul doesn't die. You may see your time on the Physical Plane as lots of lifetimes interspersed with periods spent in what we call death. Your soul sees it as one continuous experience.
There is
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families with private militias and repeated U.S. intervention. In 1926 a civil war erupted between leading families contending for the presidency, and the United States sent the Marines to help keep order. The United States trained and equipped a new Nicaraguan National Guard, which they hoped would defend the constitution after U.S. forces left. But the guard turned out to be loyal mainly to its commander, Gen. <PERSON>, the American-educated son of a coffee plantation owner.
<PERSON>, who led a guerrilla army in the war, stated that the United States would choose a puppet president to back foreign interests, and vowed not to lay down his arms until all U.S. troops left Nicaragua. <PERSON> fought the Marines and the National Guard until 1932. Then, under pressure from the Great Depression, the United States agreed to remove its forces after holding new elections, and <PERSON> agreed to disarm.
But General <PERSON> did not accept the deal. In 1934 he assassinated <PERSON>, and two years later he deposed the elected president and seized power. <PERSON> ruled for twenty years, until he himself was assassinated. He was succeeded by his son <PERSON>, who ruled from 1956 until he died in 1967. The presidency then passed to <PERSON>'s younger brother, <PERSON>.
The elder <PERSON> and his son <PERSON> were clever politicians. They relied on control of the National Guard, of course, but they also courted favor with other prominent families and politicians, encouraging them with judgeships and posts in the legislature and favored treatment for their businesses. The <PERSON> allied themselves with America against Germany in World War II and then joined America's anticommunist crusade during the Cold War. The <PERSON> also supported U.S. business interests in Nicaraguan mining, cattle, coffee, and timber.
From 1960 to 1975 Nicaragua's economy grew strongly as the United States sent aid to cement Nicaragua's support in the wake of Cuba's communist revolution, and exports of coffee, cattle, timber, and rubber expanded. But due to rapid population growth (Nicaragua's population doubled from 1950 to 1970), restrictions on union organizing, and increasingly concentrated land-ownership, the benefits of Nicaragua's economic growth went overwhelmingly to the upper-class elites, and inequality thus increased.
In 1961 a small group of Marxists—mostly educated middle-class youth inspired by the revolution in Cuba—formed a movement they named for the Nicaraguan national hero <PERSON>, calling themselves the Sandinista Front for National Liberation (FSLN). Yet they drew little popular support and were hunted down by the National Guard. Many were jailed and tortured by <PERSON>'s troops.
The tide started to turn in the late 1960s. The Catholic Church in Latin America began to follow the tenets of Liberation Theology, which argued that the Church should help improve the lives of the poor and support struggles for human rights. In response several FSLN leaders, including the <PERSON> brothers, <PERSON> and <PERSON>, set aside Marxism and started to build a more diverse <PERSON> movement that welcomed workers, peasants, businessmen, and clergy.
After the Managua earthquake in 1972, international aid poured in to rebuild
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his dreaded secret service (SAVAK) and permit the opposition to conduct peaceful demonstrations against his rule.
Where a loyal and determined military supports a financially strong and independent government, nonviolent resistance will usually fail, succumbing to harsh repression. Such was the fate of the attempted Green Revolution against clerical rule in Iran in 2009, the pro-democracy revolt in Burma in 1988, and the Tiananmen Square revolt in China in 1989.
Yet since the mid-1980s, several factors have improved the prospects for nonviolent resistance to overturn regimes. First, global norms have moved strongly in the direction of requiring elections for regimes to claim legitimacy. Even dictatorships have felt the need to hold elections, though they often will manipulate the results to produce victories. From the Philippines to Ukraine, protests over flawed elections have become powerful movements that forced regime change. Second, new mass media—including cell phones, YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, other social media, and international cable television—have made it easier for the opposition to acquire and disseminate evidence of regime abuses. Third, the rise of an international network of activists to provide training in nonviolent resistance methods has empowered opposition movements. Finally, the end of the Cold War has reduced the willingness of the United States and other powers to intervene militarily to keep rulers in power against the wishes of their own people.
As a result, nonviolent revolutions have predominated in recent years. Sometimes called "democratic" or "electoral" revolutions (when the mass protests stemmed from election campaigns), they are more commonly called "color revolutions" after the symbols adopted by the opposition in these events, such as the yellow ribbons worn in the Philippines and the orange ones in Ukraine. Other recent nonviolent revolutions include the anticommunist revolutions in the USSR and Eastern Europe, such as the "Velvet Revolution" in Czechoslovakia (1989); the "Bulldozer Revolution" in Serbia (2000); the "Rose Revolution" in Georgia (2003); the "Tulip Revolution" in Kyrgyzstan (2005); and the "Jasmine Revolution" in Tunisia (2011).
### The Philippines' "People Power" Revolution
In 1965 <PERSON>, a brilliant lawyer with a beauty queen wife and the credentials of a war hero (which later turned out to be fabricated), won the Philippine presidency. Once in power, he made his wife, <PERSON>, the governor of Manila, gave high posts to his brother and sister, appointed his cousin head of National Intelligence, and handed out lucrative rights to timber, precious metals, and coconut plantations to his friends. The <PERSON> family grew immensely rich; <PERSON> was infamous for her collection of more than three thousand pairs of designer shoes.
Yet <PERSON> was also a shrewd ruler, bribing Congress to support him, controlling the media, and spending lavishly on roads, bridges, and stadiums to gain popular appeal. In a campaign marked by vote-buying, violence, and suspected fraud, he was reelected president in 1969. In September 1972 <PERSON> declared martial law, justifying his actions by pointing to student riots and a growing communist insurgency in the countryside, including violence staged by his own intelligence officers. He announced that elections would be suspended indefinitely, then ordered the arrest of his
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Nazi poster, one of the many drawn by "Mjölnir," <PERSON> friend <PERSON>. Another shirtless, lantern-jawed, muscular worker is armed with a sword. He is using it to strike back at the three-headed snake labelled "Nazi dictatorship." This poster is from the Bavarian People's Party, the Catholic Center Party's sister organization. A third half-naked muscular worker, his face mostly hidden but clearly in agony, is bound, <PERSON>-like, to the arms of the Nazis' emblem. "The Worker in the Empire of the Swastika!" reads the text. This is from the Social Democrats. The liberal State Party distinguishes itself by having its muscular men appear wholly, not partially, naked. The German People's Party at least gives them a loincloth.
When women appear, they have all their clothes on. A beautiful young woman in a demure dress, hair neatly tied back and eyes shining with idealism, raises her right arm and looks toward a future of "Unity, Progress, and National Community" with the State Party. Two resolute women in sprightly white blouses, one smiling into the future, one looking somberly at the viewer, announce that "we women" are voting National Socialist.
The Center Party evokes its usual paranoia. For decades, its symbol has been a castle tower, like the rook in a chess set. This is how the Center sees itself in the larger German Protestant world. In this poster, the Center's lonely tower is besieged by threatening crowds waving Communist and Nazi banners. Huge letters on the tower's walls proclaim <PERSON> "The Last Bulwark of Law and Order!"
Sometimes the leader alone is the argument. The Communists present <PERSON> before a stirring backdrop of red flags. With a faint, pensive smile, <PERSON> urges us to "Fight Against Hunger and War!" He conveys a certain revolutionary optimism. The Nazis are much bleaker. A charcoal sketch shows countless unemployed workers, gaunt, hungry, grim-faced. The message is just as blunt. "Our Last Hope: <PERSON>."
In 1932, these hungry workers aren't the only ones who think this.
* * *
<PERSON> put the point with his usual cynical humor: "We'll make the Nazis believers in the state only when we let them at the trough."
<PERSON> understood that the government could not fight the country's largest political group forever—even with the army. Germany's army commanders dreaded a civil war more than almost anything else. "They can only pray and wish that this cup might pass from them," a senior official would write in late 1932. To strengthen the army, the national government, and Germany's international clout, <PERSON> preferred to seek a parliamentary majority from the right. The traditional conservatives, such as the German Nationals, could not get him near that majority. Maybe the Nazis could.
Chancellor <PERSON> also understood that a government needed a solid base of support, but he drew a different conclusion from <PERSON>'s. <PERSON> was a pious Catholic and deeply conservative. "In cultural matters," he wrote in his memoirs, "a gulf separated me from the Social Democrats." Politics, however, was different. "Like <PERSON> and many others, I had grudgingly
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policy came at the urging of the tireless <PERSON>. It was the latest installment in his campaign for Franco-German reconciliation.
<PERSON>'s effort could have been a turning point in Germany's economic and political fortunes. But there were larger strategic questions at work behind both <PERSON>'s offer and <PERSON>'s response. <PERSON> was, as always, looking for ways to manage the potential German danger to France, and to create an economically stronger Europe that could compete with the United States. <PERSON>'s broader strategy forced him to avoid policies that would have made the Depression more bearable for ordinary Germans.
Talks about a French loan had actually begun the previous July, at the time of the Rhineland evacuation and the surge in nationalist passions in Germany. The French agenda was clear. As the talks went on, Prime Minister <PERSON> said that long-term credits would be linked to Germany's promises to respect its eastern borders and limit the development of armaments. The French asked that the Germans refrain from building two battleships that were then in the planning stage—then known as the battle cruisers B and C, later as the ships Admiral Scheer and Admiral <PERSON>—and also that the German government clamp down on demonstrations by the radical right. It was also very important to the French that the Germans keep making payments according to the Young Plan.
This points squarely to <PERSON>'s problems with the French loan offer. His goal was not to reduce or delay reparations payments. It was to end them permanently. The Depression had given him an opportunity to make the case that Germany was simply unable to continue with the Young Plan. If the Allies nonetheless forced Germany to continue making payments, the result would be financial and political chaos that would have dangerous and unforeseeable consequences in their countries as well. <PERSON>, therefore, was working against time. What if the terrible conditions improved and he lost his strongest argument? The French loan might put him in this position, as there was a real chance it would boost German economic growth. The loan had to be avoided. But how?
<PERSON> was nothing if not clever, and his solution to this problem was effective without damaging him politically where it counted—with <PERSON> and <PERSON>. On March 21, 1931, his cabinet announced plans for a customs union with Austria. This would arguably amount to a breach of the Treaties of Versailles and St. Germain, both of which prohibited union between Germany and Austria. Britain and especially France saw in this idea the renewal of German expansionism, not just to Austria but toward all of southeastern Europe. The idea had not been <PERSON>'s. It was thought up by the German Foreign Office, which, under <PERSON>'s successor as foreign minister, <PERSON>, and secretary of state, <PERSON>, was moving more and more to the right. <PERSON> was the scheme's public champion. <PERSON> himself stayed in the background.
There was an outcry in France, and by the end of March the idea of the French loan was dead. <PERSON> was in
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polka version of 'Too Drunk To Fuck' by the Benka Boradovsky Bordello Band. Less so the Finnish ska (I kid you not) effort by The Valkyrians. Dunedin alt-pop legends The Chills had a cut at a rockabilly version of 'Let's Lynch The Landlord' on their 2010 album. The song has also been covered by the Whisky Daredevils, who specialise in giving hardcore punk originals an alt-country twist, as well as Torpedo Monkeys, 13 Bats, Stockholm garage rockers The Nomads and Misterio – founded by <PERSON> of platinum selling Latin Rock band Los Fabulosos Cadillac. It sounds a bit like The Cramps.
'Holiday In Cambodia' has been covered in styles ranging from cabaret (<PERSON>), irreverent hillbilly (Red Star Belgrade) and metal (Prisoners Of Earth) as well as contemporary punk (Atreyu). In 2007 the Foo Fighters, alongside <PERSON> of System Of A Down, ran through it for the benefit of MTV's VMA Fantasy Suites, interestingly enough, incorporating the album version's echoplexed intro and '<PERSON>' refrain, but substituting 'brothers' for 'niggers' in the lyric. It is doubtful the song has ever been performed to a more inappropriate audience, which is a terrible shame or great idea depending on where you stand on strategic penetration theory. Camp Freddy, the covers band formed by <PERSON> (Jane's Addiction, Red Hot Chili Peppers), <PERSON> (Circus Diablo) and <PERSON> (Guns N' Roses), with <PERSON> of Sugar Ray on vocals and guest appearances from <PERSON> and <PERSON> of Metallica, also stuck to the _Fresh Fruit_ version. The YouTube clip confirms it to be awful as you might imagine.
There are versions of 'Police Truck' by Thee Exit Wounds, Nailbomb, The Broken Toys, Destructors and LA's original surf punks Agent Orange. Canadian digital hardcore/breakcore project Contra had a stab at 'Your Emotions' – and managed the impressive feat of speeding it up. For an isolated sample of <PERSON>'s guitar work on 'Too Drunk To Fuck' you can check Indonesian hip-hop artist <PERSON> 'Too Funk To Hike', or perhaps the Amazing Klingonz pyschobilly take, or that of Japanese band the Kead Dennedys. Nouvelle Vague's now infamous version of 'Too Drunk' amplifies how those songs have survived the transition to different musical idioms. The latter, of course, is the source of yet another fissure between the former band members. Biafra remains livid that it was used in a brutal rape scene in one of <PERSON> _Grindhouse_ movies (actually the _Planet Terror_ segment directed by <PERSON>) and approved by his former band-mates.
.
Washington's Teen Idles (pre-Minor Threat/Fugazi) also made the pilgrimage for a Dead Kennedys show with the Circle Jerks and Flipper at the Mabuhay in August 1980. Though they ended up being kicked off the bill by <PERSON>, they noted the all-ages policy at the venue and the 'X' marks on hands indicating those who could not legally be served alcohol. It later became the symbol for the 'straight edge' culture that formulated on their return to Washington. Later both <PERSON> and <PERSON> attended the second 1981 Dead
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but came with his ideas on the riffs and music that should accompany them. "I never _once_ handed <PERSON> any lyrics to make into a song," he maintains. "The only time I ever did that with anybody was the one time with <PERSON>." <PERSON>, aka 6025, was the band's temporary second guitarist, whom everyone in the band seems to refer to affectionately as 'eccentric'. "I was hanging around with <PERSON>," <PERSON> continues, "and we both liked really weird music and were hot to be in a band. Then his band Mailman broke up. So I said, 'Why not just join our band?'" <PERSON> remembers 6025 as someone they know from local shows. "He played guitar, so we started playing with him. He added that Captain Beefheart/<PERSON> overtone to things."
<PERSON> didn't, at this stage, have much in the bank in the way of lyrics. "I actually had very little. I was new to the whole thing. It sort of occurred to me late in the game that if I was going to be in a band, it would help to have songs. If I wanted good lyrics, I was going to have to write them myself. It became a case of trial and error. At first it was mainly me walking in with complete songs – I'd play them single-string on a guitar to show them to <PERSON> – then later <PERSON> brought in one of his own, 'Your Emotions'. The very first time I met <PERSON>, I went over there with my guitar, and showed him the song that became 'Kepone Factory' [later released on _In God We Trust, Inc_.], originally called 'Kepone Kids'. Originally it was the more clichéd title, 'Kepone Kids'. The second one I brought in was a song we never released, called 'Kidnap'." The latter concerned the case of <PERSON>, who served time for aiding and abetting her kidnappers, self-styled left-wing guerrillas the SLA, in an armed robbery. "The lyrics were printed in _Search And Destroy,_ but we didn't save the song and put it on _Fresh Fruit._ I think I wrote that after I got to San Francisco. The third song was 'California Über Alles'. That was one of the few that, rather than have the music in my head, I actually blundered into the verse-riff while playing around with my room-mate's bass one night. The other parts came later." The original draft of 'California' had been written with old Boulder friend <PERSON>, who actually performed the song alongside <PERSON> as part of The Healers. <PERSON> wrote the words after listening (voluntarily or otherwise) to <PERSON>'s discourse on state governor <PERSON>. The chorus, with <PERSON>'s distinctive vibrato/warble, once dubbed a 'human theremin', was inspired by Japanese Kabuki music. "Although the timing of the chorus seemed perfectly logical to me, it took the other guys a month to get the timing right. It's not in any conventional sheet music timing or anything. I don't worry about that, I just make the stuff up."
<PERSON> is pretty animated in disputing this. "Here's the
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våningen den här kvällen ringde telefonen, för ovanlighetens skull. Den ringde ytterst sällan. Nu var det i alla fall en saxofonist som skulle hälsa från Bill från Bear Quartet – han hade faktiskt lyckats med en hyfsad solokarriär nere på kontinenten – och som själv ledde en kvartett med en alkoholiserad pianist. Han ville att <PERSON> skulle sitta in på ett par spelningar, eller "gigs" som det heter i branschen, nere på Fasching över helgen. <PERSON> tackade för omtanken men lät meddela att han inte hade tid. <PERSON> hade fullt upp med sina egna repetitioner.
Jag kunde inte fatta varför han tackade nej. Han ville inte gå in på saken närmare. Det var hans business och jag hade bara att inse det, fast han hade svårt att dölja sin belåtenhet. Han var en eftertraktad pianist som tvingades <PERSON> till anbudet.
En ganska betryckt stämning vilade över lägenhetens clairobskyr och <PERSON> kunde inte fatta vad det berodde på, annat än att Leos osaliga ande möjligen hemsökte oss från sin fysiska frånvaro. Det berodde i alla fall inte på ekonomin, som visserligen var knapp men absolut inte hopplös; det berodde inte på kylan, vi hade lärt oss knepen nu med regelbunden eldning, pyjamasar, varmvattenflaskor i sängarna och higginskoftor dygnet runt; och det berodde heller inte på arbetet för nu hade vi återigen flytit upp i en mild kakafoni av skrivmaskinsknatter och brustna ackord från flygeln.
<PERSON> hade sett en ljusning, han sa att han hade varit i kontakt med Södra teatern och preliminärt bokat in en onsdagskväll i början av maj som stått tom på teaterns program. Direktionen hade ställt sig mycket positiv till en pianoafton. Det var bara för <PERSON> del att sparka igång maskineriet definitivt, bestämma repertoar ur _Europa, vittrande fragment_ , trycka upp program samt skicka ut inbjudan i stiligt tryck till hela eliten. Jag åtog mig på stående fot att sälja ut minst ett tjog stolar på parkett. Det såg ljust ut för komponisten, han hade ingen anledning att misströsta. Ändå gjorde han det, innerst inne.
Det gick till och med så långt att han vägrade gå upp en morgon i mars. Jag kom ut i det kök där han som regel dukade upp den monumentala frukosten vid 7-bläcket och fann bara en tom vaxduk. Kocken själv fann <PERSON> i sängen, klarvaken men håglös.
"Jag vägrar gå upp idag", sa <PERSON>. "Jag har feber och mår pyton."
Jag steg fram till sängen och kände på hans panna. Den var säkert svalare än en sådan där lyktstolpe där ungar brukar fastna med tungan riktigt kalla vinterdagar.
"Det är nog bäst att kalla på doktor <PERSON>", sa <PERSON>. "Det här verkar ganska kritiskt."
"Gör det!?" sa <PERSON> och slog sig för pannbenet för att känna efter. _"Så_ farligt verkar det väl ändå inte?"
"Det är nog säkrast att se efter i alla fall", sa <PERSON> och <PERSON> efter termometern med flytande kristaller.
<PERSON> tryckte <PERSON> mot sin panna och den visade givetvis under 37˚. Han blev djupt besviken och lugnad på samma gång.
"Det är ingen panik", sa
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a future marriage were dim; in their fathers' opinion, they didn't know what was best for them. One day when they did realise what was best, it might be too late.
At first <PERSON> had a hard time getting used to <PERSON>'s absence, but there was nothing to be done about it; all parents had to deal with the same thing. He listened to the organ. Sometimes that helped, sometimes it didn't. He felt stupid and overprotective. He thought he had every right to be stupid and overprotective. It was difficult.
During one prolonged power outage the gang was holed up someplace, engrossed in a game. But since the entire city was dark, all the parents began to worry. <PERSON> sat in the light of a burning lantern, and the hours passed without a word from <PERSON>. He tried to distract himself with all sorts of things, tried to dispel his nervousness, to rein it in, but without success. Finally he grew so impatient that he went out. It would be pointless to try to find his son, but he could at least talk to someone, such as the mother of one of <PERSON>'s friends who lived in the same neighbourhood.
The power came back on just as he was knocking at her door. She asked who it was, and he replied by giving his name. She opened the door, and he stood there squinting at the light, explaining why he was there. He felt more idiotic than he'd ever felt before.
But she didn't think he should feel that way. She invited him to come in, now that he was there anyway. They had become acquainted during the boys' school days, meeting at various functions, but had never become good friends. They had exchanged experiences in the way that people do when they have children the same age. A smile might be enough, or a rolling of the eyes.
It turned out that she was single. <PERSON> assumed that his marital status was just as apparent. They were about the same age, more or less healthy, and conscientious. All the essential prerequisites for something that <PERSON> had never actually given a thought to until now, when he found himself seated on a prickly sofa in her home, and they both agreed, rather proudly, that 'Boys will be boys... They always manage to find electricity somewhere...'
They both felt a sense of relief. At any rate, their loving concern for the children ended up being pushed aside.
A different mood took over. It might be called the magic from a chain of events. The electrical light that suddenly lit up the whole flat was immediately turned off because the lit candles seemed more appealing, more suitable.
<PERSON> was offered vodka. He gladly accepted a glass, and she kept him company, already halfway through the bottle. Good vodka. Excellent brand. He asked her how she'd got it, giving her the opportunity to incriminate her son's father, who was involved with 'transports'.
The more darkness that was cast upon the man, the more light
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Révolution française_ , Paris-Genève, Cherbuliez, 1841, t. I, p. 314-322 et p. 387.
. Je me permets de renvoyer sur ce point à mon ouvrage _La Légende des Camisards_ , _op. cit._ , p. 194-200.
. <PERSON>, _De la Révocation de l'Édit de Nantes à la guerre des Cévennes_ , Montpellier, Les Presses du Languedoc, 1985, p. 18
. <PERSON>, _Catalogue du musée de la Société de l'histoire du protestantisme français ouvert en 1885 à Paris. Une heure de promenade historique à travers quatre siècles, livret-guide du visiteur_ , Paris, SHPF, 1927.
. _La Cévenole_ , no 1, 1885.
. _Le Foyer protestant_ , août 1887.
. <PERSON> (dir.), _Itinéraires protestants en Languedoc du XVIe au XXe siècle_, t. I, _Les Cévennes_ , Montpellier, Les Presses du Languedoc, 1998, p. 141-143.
. <PERSON> (dir.), _Itinéraires protestants en Languedoc du XVIe au XXe siècle_, t. III, _<PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON> et <PERSON>_ , _op. cit._ , p. 14.
. Statistique établie à partir de la reconstitution des alliances de la famille Say par <PERSON> dans _Les Say et leurs alliances. L'étonnante aventure d'une famille cévenole_ , Paris, Chez l'auteur, 1971.
. <PERSON>, _La France protestante_ , _op. cit._ ; t. II pour <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, t. VI pour <PERSON> et <PERSON>.
. <PERSON>, _Histoire des Réfugiés protestants de France depuis la révocation de l'Édit de Nantes jusqu'à nos jours_ , _op. cit._ , préface, t. I, p. VI, et conclusion, t. II, p. 330. Ce sont les derniers mots du texte de <PERSON>.
. Cité par <PERSON>, « The Huguenot Society of America », _BSHPF_ , t. 34, _op. cit._ , p. 43.
. <PERSON>, _Voyage dans les Cévennes en l'an 1877. Un huguenot allemand revient au pays de ses ancêtres_ , trad. <PERSON>, Alès, Club Cévenol, 1985, p. 21.
. <PERSON>, « Du patriotisme prussien au meilleur des Allemands », _in_ <PERSON> et <PERSON> (éd.), _Le Refuge huguenot_ , _op. cit._ , p. 241.
. <PERSON>, « La Révocation, événement mémorable ? », _in_ <PERSON> et <PERSON> (dir.), _La Révocation de l'Édit de Nantes et le protestantisme français en 1685_ , _op. cit._ , p. 299-311 ; citations tirées de l'intervention du pasteur Viguié.
. <PERSON>, _Histoire de France_ , t. XIII, _Louis XIV et la révocation de l'édit de Nantes_ , éd. présentée par <PERSON> et <PERSON>, Paris, Éditions des Équateurs, 2008, p. 9.
. <PERSON>, _Journal_ , t. II, _1849-1860_ , éd. <PERSON>, Paris, Gallimard, 1962, p. 445.
. Cité dans l'avant-propos de <PERSON> à <PERSON>, _De la Révocation de l'Édit de Nantes à la guerre des Cévennes_ , _op. cit._ , p. III.
. Suivie d'effet, puisque ces mémoires sont édités quatre ans plus tard **.**
. Voir <PERSON>, « Michelet et la légende huguenote », _in_ <PERSON>, <PERSON> et <PERSON><PHONE_NUMBER>_ , _op. cit._ , p. 299-311 ; citations tirées de l'intervention du pasteur Viguié.
. Jules Michelet, _Histoire de France_ , t. XIII, _Louis XIV et la révocation de l'édit de Nantes_ , éd. présentée par Paul Viallaneix et Paule Petitier, Paris, Éditions des Équateurs, 2008, p. 9.
. Jules Michelet, _Journal_ , t. II, _1849-1860_ , éd. Paul Viallaneix, Paris, Gallimard, 1962, p. 445.
. Cité dans l'avant-propos de Paul Viallaneix à Jules Michelet, _De la Révocation de l'Édit de Nantes à la guerre des Cévennes_ , _op. cit._ , p. III.
. Suivie d'effet, puisque ces mémoires sont édités quatre ans plus tard **.**
. Voir Paul Viallaneix, « Michelet et la légende huguenote », _in_ C. Edric J. Caldicott, Hugh Gough et Jean-Paul Pittion (dir.), _The Huguenots and Ireland. Anatomy of an Emigration_ , _op. cit._ , p. 408.
.
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rapide, pour peu que l'on fît disparaître les dernières structures et les hommes qui les animaient. Le 15 septembre, le roi et son entourage se situaient encore dans le cadre de l'Édit, trois semaines plus tard la décision définitive de révocation était prise, parfaitement justifiée. Jusqu'alors tout avait réussi au Grand Roi, et les oppositions étaient si faibles qu'il n'était pas nécessaire de les ménager ; la tentative de 1683 avait été très localisée, suscitant la division à l'intérieur des Églises réformées et les lieux où elle avait été la plus active avaient abjuré sans contrainte excessive. Il y avait bien quelques obstinés, mais peu nombreux, d'autant moins visibles qu'une partie d'entre eux s'étaient réfugiés dans les montagnes et les forêts. Le danger de rébellion était donc nul.
Sur le plan international, <PERSON> a le sentiment tout aussi justifié d'une conjoncture particulièrement favorable, sans même rappeler la trêve de Ratisbonne. De l'autre côté de la Manche, l'Angleterre a vu arriver à sa tête en février 1685 un souverain catholique, <PERSON>, qui s'efforce de faire accepter les catholiques dans son pays ; il vient de triompher des opposants à cette politique regroupés autour du fils illégitime <PERSON>, le comte de Monmouth, prétendant au trône. Il a battu celui-ci en juillet et l'a fait exécuter. Le triomphe du roi est complet : la Révocation sera l'apogée du règne. <PERSON>, paradoxalement en France en 1685 pour échapper au catholique <PERSON>, reconnaît lui-même la force de la position du monarque, craignant de voir en 1685 la fin du protestantisme en Europe.
<PERSON> a donc tout intérêt à aller très vite et c'est ce qu'il fait le 17, le 18 et le 22 octobre. Pour répondre aux inquiétudes du clan <PERSON> sur le danger de fuite de négociants, l'Édit contient bien l'interdiction d'émigrer avec sa contrepartie, l'article douze qui accorde le for intérieur : la possibilité de conserver sa croyance dans son cœur sans faire d'acte de catholicité et la seule condition de ne pas la manifester par la moindre pratique. C'est à partir de cet article que tout dérape et que le roi ne respecte pas lui-même le texte qu'il a signé.
## LE PIÈGE DE L'ARTICLE XII
À peine l'Édit est-il connu que ce dernier article fait polémique. Dès la réception de celui-ci, et devant la réaction des religionnaires restés fidèles à leur foi, les responsables de terrain, qui continuent à enregistrer des succès impressionnants, ne comprennent pas ce dernier article et le font savoir vigoureusement, comme <PERSON>, Bâville, ou <PERSON><PHONE_NUMBER> avait été très localisée, suscitant la division à l'intérieur des Églises réformées et les lieux où elle avait été la plus active avaient abjuré sans contrainte excessive. Il y avait bien quelques obstinés, mais peu nombreux, d'autant moins visibles qu'une partie d'entre eux s'étaient réfugiés dans les montagnes et les forêts. Le danger de rébellion était donc nul.
Sur le plan international, Louis XIV a le sentiment tout aussi justifié d'une conjoncture particulièrement favorable, sans même rappeler la trêve de Ratisbonne. De l'autre côté de la Manche, l'Angleterre a vu arriver à sa tête en février <PHONE_NUMBER> un souverain catholique, Jacques II, qui s'efforce de faire accepter les catholiques dans son pays ; il vient de triompher des opposants à cette politique regroupés autour du fils illégitime de Charles II, le comte de Monmouth, prétendant au trône. Il a battu celui-ci en juillet et l'a fait exécuter. Le triomphe du roi est complet : la Révocation sera l'apogée du règne. L'anglican Gilbert Burnet, paradoxalement en France en <PHONE_NUMBER> pour échapper au catholique Jacques II, reconnaît lui-même la force de la position du monarque, craignant de voir en <PHONE_NUMBER> la fin du protestantisme en Europe.
Louis XIV a donc tout intérêt à aller très vite et c'est ce qu'il fait le 17, le 18 et le 22 octobre. Pour répondre aux inquiétudes du clan Colbert sur le danger de fuite de négociants, l'Édit contient bien l'interdiction d'émigrer avec sa contrepartie, l'article douze qui accorde le for intérieur : la possibilité de conserver sa croyance dans son cœur sans faire d'acte de catholicité et la seule condition de ne pas la manifester par la moindre pratique. C'est à partir de cet article que tout dérape et que le roi ne respecte pas lui-même le texte qu'il a signé.
## LE PIÈGE DE L'ARTICLE XII
À peine l'Édit est-il connu que ce dernier article fait polémique. Dès la réception de celui-ci, et devant la réaction des religionnaires restés fidèles à leur foi, les responsables de terrain, qui continuent à enregistrer des succès impressionnants, ne comprennent pas ce dernier article et le font savoir vigoureusement, comme Foucault, Bâville, ou Noailles qui écrit immédiatement dans un mémoire : « II est certain que la dernière clause de l'édit, qui défend d'inquiéter les gens de la religion prétendue réformée, va faire un grand désordre en arrêtant les conversions. » Inquiétudes justifiées. L'édit de Fontainebleau, largement diffusé dans l'ensemble du royaume avec ce dernier article, conforte les protestants dans l'idée que le roi n'est pas au courant de l'activité de ses représentants en province et qu'il tolère la fidélité à leur religion. Même l'archevêque de Grenoble, connu pour son
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at all of this and done what I always did—choose my own job as a substitute for the hard work of a relationship. I didn't. I chose life; I chose love; I chose an "us" over a "me."
And what grand rewards I am having. I am finally in our new home with my magnificent husband. It's really "our" new home, not just mine. It is so beautiful, so peaceful.
On the professional side, I am more and more fulfilled every day. Would I be without work? Would no one come to my door? If you let go of fear, it all works out. I am continuing as a legal analyst with Court TV, something that wasn't possible until my employer and I created it this spring. You can create what you want and what you need. I will be contributing to a major television network—a job others said would be impossible from Los Angeles. I have published a book and continue to speak to groups around the country. In L.A., I'm being approached to be the keynote speaker at various charitable and public service events. I am joining boards that fulfill my needs of mentoring youth and fighting domestic violence. I am working with my husband in the community and am so proud to be in his light; he says he is proud to be in mine, and he means it. Together, we are working to change this city for the better, and we can see how others appreciate it.
# CHAPTER ELEVEN
# **Guts and Grace**
# Staying on Course When It Counts
<PERSON> ONCE SAID, "I have learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions and not on our circumstances." The remarkable strength, courage, and clarity that carried these members of the New Girls' Club through the very hardest of times proves that statement to be true. Precisely at the moment when nothing seemed possible, these brave and classy women showed that anything really is possible when you stay true to who you are.
<PERSON>
FORMER CONGRESSWOMAN AND VICE-PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE
AT 30...
<PERSON> was a stay-at-home mother.
TODAY...
<PERSON> has earned a place in history as the first woman vice-presidential candidate on a national party ticket. She was first elected to Congress from New York's 9th Congressional District in Queens in 1978 and served three terms in the House of Representatives. In Congress, she spearheaded efforts to achieve passage of the Equal Rights Amendment. She was appointed by President <PERSON> to lead the U.S. delegation to the United Nations Human Rights Commission. An active participant in the nation's foreign policy debate, she serves as a board member of the National Democratic Institute of International Affairs and is a member of the Council on Foreign Relations. In addition to numerous articles, <PERSON> has written two books, _Ferraro: My Story,_ which recounts the 1984 campaign, and <PERSON>._ She is a political analyst for the Fox network.
<PERSON> is a member of the New
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we imagined that a parallel and inspiring prescriptive pattern would emerge during our interviews with the more seasoned and settled women of part 2—and it did.
What we discovered was that none of these women had smooth lives in which professional and personal successes came easily, yet each has managed to build a fulfilling, multidimensional reality guided by a similar process. That process is complex, and it involves a combination of self-analysis, honesty, and pragmatism. Not one among this group of power players found accelerated career success by becoming a more devoted corporate solider or a more aggressive political operator. Instead, they found professional fulfillment by following their passions and taking calculated risks. Similarly, women who were single did not find husbands by going on more dates; instead, they found love when they engaged in thoughtful realignments of their priorities and goals. No one found the "perfect" relationship, but many of these happily married women realized that embracing imperfection in partnerships is the key to sustaining them.
The lessons embedded in these stories is clear: The women of the New Girls' Club each feel they Have It All—largely because they purposefully reevaluated what "all" means to them. And they each did it at a critical moment, during their late twenties or early to mid-thirties. But perhaps the most important thing they have common is something quite simple— _They are women of action._ They never waited for, nor did they expect, wonderful lives to "just happen." When these women faced crossroads moments, they were not always certain they were making the right decisions or doing the right thing. But in the end, they each chose to live with purpose, optimism, and creativity. There is much to learn from their experiences.
The spirit of the New Girls' Club is embodied in the story of <PERSON>, an entrepreneur who grew up in the South Bronx, the poorest congressional district in the country. <PERSON> faced violence and fear at every corner—literally—as gangs dominated both her neighborhood and her school. But by the time she was in her thirties, she was a selfmade millionaire, raising three sons in a magnificent home that surpassed her own childhood fantasies. In our interview, she described what it took to get there:
I think that a lot us walk of around desperately seeking clarity. We have this prayer that goes something like, "If I only knew exactly what the right thing was to do, and how to do it." And we say to ourselves, "When I get that moment of clarity, I'll take action." What I have learned is that prayer for the lightening moment when everything becomes totally clear is not actually a prayer for clarity—it's a prayer for an insurance policy to protect us from looking stupid or feeling dumb. And there is no such thing. Even if you are moving powerfully in a direction that you are clear is the right one for you, you'll still have plenty of moments of feeling stupid. I certainly have.
I've flopped in Macy's window big time. And believe me,
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only just got home," said a frightened <PERSON>.
"You've gone too far this time boy..."
"<PERSON>, don't!"
The vicar charged towards him and <PERSON> ran.
"What did you hear?" the vicar demanded, knocking his way through the dining room furniture to pursue him.
<PERSON> went through the sitting room into the hall, the vicar just inches from catching him, when they both stopped all of a sudden. The front door hung open and there stood <PERSON>'s father watching them. His face stern and serious: "By thunder, what is going on here?"
The vicar took a step back and tried to compose himself. "We were just playing a game," he lied feebly.
"Doesn't look like any game I know," <PERSON>'s father said slowly. "I had no idea you and my son were such firm friends."
"Water under the bridge," said the vicar. "Like God, I always prefer to be forgiving."
After an aching silence, the vicar said: "Yes, well, I only stopped by briefly."
"All your visits seem to be brief," said Mr <PERSON>. "It's funny, every time I see you, you always seem to be on your way out."
"Well I'm a busy man, the parish does not run itself. But perhaps sometime soon you could come around for supper. I feel that we hardly get a chance to talk you and I."
"Perhaps."
"Let me show you out, <PERSON>," said <PERSON>'s mother.
"No need <PERSON>," said Mr <PERSON>. "I think he probably knows the way by now."
<PERSON> passed the vicar his hat. He snatched it from her and walked swiftly to the door.
"You're home early," Mrs <PERSON> hissed.
"Young <PERSON> can round up the sheep by now I think. I've taught him well enough... I think you should go to your room <PERSON>. Me and your mother, we need to talk."
This was not what <PERSON> had expected at all. For hours and hours his parents seemed to argue. <PERSON> tried his best to listen, but he could not make out much, except that his father seemed to think his mother was keeping something from him. It was the first time <PERSON> thought his father seemed more angry than his mother. It ended, as it often did, with his father slamming the door and going to the pub. Sometime later his mother shouted for him; he went downstairs to eat a cold, miserable supper she had left for him. She was outside, sat crying beneath the old apple tree in the garden.
No, this had not been what he had expected at all, and the next day, when he visited his friend in the well, he expressed his displeasure.
"It was supposed to upset the vicar," he cried. "Now my mum is throwing tantrums again. My dad is furious, he doesn't want to even calm her down."
"Secrets are dangerous things, <PERSON>," said the boy. "If they weren't, they wouldn't be secrets now would they?"
"You knew that was going to happen didn't you?" said <PERSON> angrily. "You knew he was going to come over and upset <PERSON>!"
"<PERSON>!
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I decided after much fretting and worrying that I would write to her. It took weeks; I had to pluck up the courage to do it and then I had to decide what to write. Then it took weeks to write it, draft, redraft, tear up, throw away, start again... it was months before I had something ready to post, but I didn't want my parents to know, so it took me ages to find the address of the hotel. There was no internet then; I had to do my research and visit the library to find a listing and address for the hotel. It was almost the end of October by the time I finally posted the letter.
I'm not even sure what I put in the letter – something probably cringe-worthy about longing and wanting to see her every day. I didn't want to put her off by going too far, but I tried in a clumsy way to tell her just how much I loved her and how I hated that it would be so many months before I would see her again. Most importantly, I wanted to know how she felt about me and whether she cared and thought about me as I thought about her.
I almost chickened out before I sent it; I was so afraid of rejection. I had forgotten how dismissive she had been of me during those two weeks. How she'd been part of a new crowd that would look down on someone as terribly unfashionable and gawky as me.
Weeks passed, then months. Getting an answer was frightening enough, getting no answer was worse. By the time Christmas approached, the chance of getting a response looked bleak and I had already resigned myself to the fact that we would never be together.
My parents' marriage was falling apart; they were barely on speaking terms. Normally my aunt and uncle and cousins would come over and we'd spend Christmas together. But my cousin <PERSON> had already suggested that they might stay away that year; that my parents' arguments had already almost spoilt it last year. There would have to be a reckoning between them before the big day. I made myself almost sick with worry not knowing when the explosion might come.
And then the letter came. It was just as school was breaking up and I was still wary about what might happen at Christmas...
I wish I still had that letter. It was just... I was so unhappy and so low and it was exactly what I needed. It brought me comfort and hope and a glimmer of happiness.
<PERSON> thanked me for writing to her; she was happy to receive my letter which had 'shone some light on a dark time'. Her handwriting was so beautiful, so elegant, it practically danced across the page. I'd never realised she was such a gifted writer. It was as if for the first time we were really talking. All the awkwardness, the half-gazes, the things unsaid during those brief visits... suddenly we were
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composer's, sonify <PERSON>'s intense "lyrical" moment (ex. 4.3).
Copyright © 1987 by E.C. Schirmer Music Company for All Countries, a Division of ECS Publishing, St. Louis, MO.
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
Example 4.2. <PERSON>'s Ring, page 2, first staff
The ring is dynamic and charged even while the governing pulse remains within a moderate tempo. It doesn't get faster than a quarter note = 76 until close to the end, but even there, the controlling pulse only reaches a quarter note = 84. By the final seconds of the work, the players have slowed to reclaim a pulse close to the one that began the piece. But at any point in the work individual passages speed up and slow down; they often gain momentum as they move through a gesture where <PERSON> instructs her players to "push ahead" or to "build intensity." Over and over <PERSON> encourages the instrumentalists to play "freely," "very freely." Ultimately, <PERSON>'s Ring is not about tempo or beat, as traditionally understood. It is not about melody or harmony or consonance or dissonance either. It does not conform to a conventional form or an identifiable style, a situation that will confound more than one critic talking about a variety of <PERSON>'s pieces over the years. And while it is about energy, it is not about alternating or direct current. It is about the energy of light and water and being in their field as they cohere; <PERSON> colors that energy in music that sparks and snaps and undulates and wavers. <PERSON> wants us to join her inside the ring and the sounds and become that energy. If it works, listeners hear with new ears, just like a person experiencing Ulloa's ring looks at the sky with new eyes. It seems logical that a composer famous for her energy would respond to a phenomenon that discharged an equally intense force field. Having such vitality reflected back may have been why Ulloa's Ring unlocked something in <PERSON>. She understood what it was like to be inside that energy, and in composing Ulloa's Ring she wrote what she knew.
Copyright © 1987 by E.C. Schirmer Music Company for All Countries, a Division of ECS Publishing, St. Louis, MO.
All Rights Reserved. Used by Permission.
Example 4.3. Ulloa's Ring, piano solo, page 5
<PERSON> took advantage of the opportunity to explore a different kind of natural energy in 1982, when she accepted a commission from the Composers Commissioning Program of the Minnesota Composers Forum to write another flute piece for <PERSON>; this one allowed both <PERSON> and <PERSON> to explore the cantabile qualities of their musical beings in a fully solo medium. In Aubade <PERSON> composed a more familiar phenomenon and simultaneously revealed her upper Midwest point of view. Here is an example of place directly animating <PERSON>'s nature music. In a spoken program note to a 1988 performance, <PERSON> explains her perspective: "My Aubade is a piece to welcome the rising of the sun, but particularly the kind of sunrise we get in the Midwest, which takes
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<PERSON>, February 20, 1998.
62. Ibid. <PERSON> referred to this incident in her interview with <PERSON>. The maledominated composition world and larger patriarchal society rendered such behavior commonplace. <PERSON>'s gender and diminutive stature frequently drew patronizing remarks and interactions from male faculty. Given <PERSON> gender and height, no one would have (or could have) considered patting him on the head. Physical realities can exacerbate gendered interactions.
63. Personal conversation with <PERSON>, November 11, 2012.
64. For a brief history of the MCF and its later-day incarnation as the American Composers Forum, see "In the Key of Now."
65. Interview by <PERSON>, February 20, 1998. <PERSON> heard one performance of the opera before heading to New York City for a summer trip.
66. <PERSON> (1899–1985) was an American writer best known for his contributions to the New Yorker; his many children's books including <PERSON> (1945), Charlotte's Web (1952), and The Trumpet of the Swan (1970); the collection of essays One Man's Meat; and the writer's guide Elements of Style, which he revised after the death of <PERSON>. See "E. B. White Biography."
67. <PERSON> quoted in <PERSON>, "We're Bullish on Libby," 41.
68. At this point in our conversation, <PERSON> pantomimed the common hand gestures for "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil." November 12, 2012.
69. <PERSON> quoted in <PERSON>, "We're Bullish on Libby," 41.
70. Quoted in <PERSON>, "Bard of the Barn." The "Blue Hill Fair" refers to a yearly fair that took place in Blue Hill, Maine, close to where <PERSON> had a summer home.
71. Personal conversation with the composer, April 28, 2015. At a recent performance of <PERSON>'s opera Postcard from Morocco (Tallahassee, May 30, 2015), I was struck by <PERSON>'s exquisite movement from a guitar passage to a tenor vocalist's line. The two timbres seemed to grow in and out of each other. <PERSON> had created a similarly sensitive and seamless motion from a tenor vocalist's line to a sitar passage in her O Magnum Mysterium, a piece I discuss in the chapter on <PERSON> and technology.
72. Personal conversation with <PERSON>, November 11, 2012.
73. <PERSON>, "Brown Penny." This poem is in the public domain.
74. <PERSON> had attended séances, so he had personal experience with what he wrote into his play.
75. The phrases "bad old man," "the chief representative... ," and "his brain had gone" come from <PERSON>, "Words upon the Windowpane," 158–71.
76. See <PERSON>, "Yeats as an Example."
77. Interview by <PERSON>, February 20, 1998.
78. <PERSON> commented that an archival film was made of the university production. I have not viewed it.
79. Interview by <PERSON>, February 20, 1998.
80. Telephone conversation with the composer, February 25, 2015.
81. Although Sprechstimme was not a popular vocal technique in the 1970s, all aspects of <PERSON>'s compositional practices, methods, and theories, including twelve-tone techniques, were widely taught at the time, and <PERSON> learned them.
82. See "History," Minnesota Opera, for more on the Minnesota Opera and
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one of the concierges. They were all functionaries of a sort. They couldn't pretend not to have seen anything. Each had a telephone in the hall of his apartment building.
An odor of burning kindling came from the kitchen. Then there was an avalanche of ashes in the other stoves and, finally, the hum of the coffee grinder.
Poor fat stupid <PERSON>! A little while ago she had stood in her bare feet on the carpet, rubbing her body to smooth away the marks of the sheets on her skin. She hadn't put on her underwear. She was sweating. She was probably talking to herself. Two months earlier, at this same hour, she would have been feeding chickens and probably talking to them in a language they understood.
The streetcar again—its sudden stop at the corner to pour sand on the rails so the brake would hold. You got used to it, and yet you still waited in suspense for it to go away again with its noise like the rattle of scrap iron.
Which of the concierges would be frightened enough to telephone the authorities? Concierges lived in fear. It was their vocation. You could picture this one or that gesticulating in front of two or three carloads of Occupation police.
There was a time when they would have sealed off the entire neighborhood and searched the houses one by one. They'd have taken hostages, too. That time was long past. Men had become philosophers, it appeared, on both sides of the divide. But was there still a divide?
Well, they would go on pretending.
A fat letch was dead. What difference could it make to them? They must have known he was worthless. The disappearance of the pistol would disturb them much more, because whoever had taken it might have ideas about using it against them.
They were frightened, too. Everybody was frightened.
Two cars, three cars passed, then passed again. Another was going from house to house.
It was for effect only. Nothing would happen.
Unless, of course, <PERSON> decided to talk. But <PERSON> wouldn't talk. <PERSON> had faith in him.
That's it! Now he had the explanation. It wasn't the precise expression perhaps, but it gave an idea of what he had dimly thought the night before: he had faith in <PERSON>.
<PERSON> must be asleep. No. By this time he was up and getting ready to go out. When he wasn't working he stood in the lines.
They had to stand in line, too, at Lotte's, for a few commodities. One of the girls did, that is. But not for everything. There were certain things that were well worth fetching yourself.
All the doors inside were open. The kitchen stove radiated heat through the rooms. If necessary, it would have been enough to heat the whole place. Then the smell of real coffee filled the apartment.
On the other side of the kitchen, opening onto the landing, just to the left of the stairs, was the nail salon. The stove there was always lit.
And each stove,
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he was and what his mother did for a living. The whole building despised them. Not many people said hello.
<PERSON> didn't say anything to them either, but then he never said anything to anyone. Out of pride. No, more out of humility, or because he couldn't be bothered with other people, because he lived with his daughter in a little circle from which he felt no need to step outside. Some people were like that.
He wasn't even mysterious.
Had <PERSON> perhaps coughed out of childish impulse? That was too simple, too pat.
<PERSON> wasn't scared. His step didn't falter. It never occurred to him that someone might be waiting for him in the alley. That was odd, too, since a man would have to have a good reason for flattening himself against a wall in the middle of the night, with the thermometer at ten degrees below freezing.
As he passed the alley, <PERSON> raised his flashlight for an instant, just long enough to light up <PERSON>'s face.
<PERSON> didn't bother to raise the collar of his coat or turn his head aside. He stood there in plain sight with that thoughtful and resolute air that he usually had, even when thinking about the most trivial things.
<PERSON> had seen him and knew him. He was no more than a hundred yards from the apartment building. He was taking the key out of his pocket. Because he worked nights, he was the only tenant who had one.
Tomorrow he would learn from the papers—or simply while standing in line in front of some shop—that a noncommissioned officer had been killed at the corner of the alley.
Then he would know.
What would he decide to do? The Occupation authorities would offer a reward, as they always did when one of their own was in question, especially an officer. <PERSON> and his daughter were poor. They couldn't afford meat more than a couple of times a month, and even then only odd scraps they boiled with turnips. From the odors escaping through the doors, you could tell who in the building ate what.
What would <PERSON> do?
He definitely couldn't be happy to have a business like <PERSON>'s going on just across the hall from his apartment, not with <PERSON> there all day long.
Wasn't this a chance to get rid of them?
Yet <PERSON> had coughed, and not for a moment did he consider abandoning his plan. On the contrary—for a second he mouthed a sort of prayer that the Eunuch would turn the corner of the street before <PERSON> had had time to enter the building.
<PERSON> would hear him, would see him. Perhaps he'd wait a moment with his key in his hand and even see the thing done.
That didn't happen. Too bad—<PERSON> had been excited by the idea. It seemed that there was already a secret bond between him and the man now climbing the stairs in the dark building.
Of course it wasn't because of <PERSON> that he was going to kill the Eunuch. That
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about all the different "identities" you may have tried when you were going through this stage. Sometimes you were confident in your identity and other times you were confused. Since the goal is for a young person to develop her own identity, there is little chance it will be exactly what her parents were hoping for; but rest assured, it is healthy for her to create her own identity separate from parental expectations. Teens that develop a healthy sense of identity find it easier to remain true to their belief in who they are while failure leads to role confusion and a weakened sense of self.
Most of us realize that how we identify ourselves and how we see the world changes throughout our adulthood as well. It is not necessary for a teen to enter his twenties knowing exactly who he is to be successful at this stage. What is important is having a sense of core values and beliefs that really help young people leave adolescence with confidence.
Consider Social Development When Parenting
_A couple came to a session concerned that their son had told them many of his friends at school were swearing. The parents said that they told their child not to spend time with those friends at school and that they didn't think he should play together with those kids after school. I told them two things. First, it is typical for kids to experiment with swearing at that age. Second, it is so wonderful that their child is telling them this so they can help him navigate this new experience, not avoid it, or try to figure it out all alone. They can now help their son talk about why some kids swear, why adults don't want them to, and what he is going to do. If their child decides to swear too and does it around adults, he will experience the natural consequences that follow, but hopefully he will know the consequences as a result of having discussed this with them. This is a great learning experience. Trying to avoid any experience a parent thinks is "inappropriate" is futile and doesn't help a child learn._
—Dr. <PERSON>
Again, the most important and consistent factor in healthy psychosocial development is that children need to _experience_ the challenge at each stage—even though watching children struggle socially can be difficult for parents. Parents must resist the temptation to rescue, push, overparent, and otherwise take over for their child.
Parents Can Support Social Development
According to <PERSON>, children need to move through a set of social challenges in order to become confident and develop their own identity.
• **Infancy:** The challenge for the infant is bonding with his caregivers. At this stage, parents should be loving, caring, and available. A secure bond between child and parents sets a great foundation for relationships with people the rest of his life.
• **Preschool:** The challenge for the child at this stage is the idea that it is OK to be away from her parents. Parents should encourage some separation and then
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is an example.
_"Hey, Dad, I just took my first math test and got a D. Math has always been hard for me and I am really worried about this class. I went to the student center to find out about tutoring. They offer some great services but they aren't free. Would you be able to pay for a tutor so I can pass this class?"_
Set an expectation that when problems arise, your children must deal with them responsibly and communicate with you accordingly. Then if he or she does not meet your academic expectations, it is not a surprise and you were informed of the ways he or she was taking responsibility. The expectation is not for your children to be perfect students. It is for them to be responsible students. You will find that if you make this clear and have a sample conversation before your child even leaves for college, he or she will be much more open about grades during the semester.
What to Do If Your Child Is Just Not Ready
_One afternoon, I received a frantic message from the mother of an eleventh-grade student. It was flagged "urgent." When I called back, she shared that her son was going to earn a C in his literature class because he still had not turned in a paper that was a major portion of the grade. She had called the teacher to explain that he was working on it the night before and would complete it that day. The teacher responded that her son had several weeks to complete the paper and that the class had already been given a three-day extension. He would not accept the late paper from her son. That was when she called me to ask that I write a letter stating that he should be granted another extension. She told me that he would never get into a "good school," meaning college, because he was going to have a C on his transcript._
—Dr. <PERSON>
Experiencing the consequences of making a mistake is essential in helping children and teens learn how to solve problems. Failing to turn the paper in on time could be the result of many things; maybe he did not have the skills to organize himself or he simply did not care about the grade. Either way, it may have been one of many indications that he was not ready to attend an academically challenging college. In fact, despite the tragic C in literature, three years later he was attending a four-year university and I received another call from his mother stating that he was failing his classes and was overdrawing the savings account his parents set up for him. She did not know why he was acting so irresponsibly and wanted my help.
_That same week I met with parents of a twelfth-grade student. They said their daughter was earning a D in a history class because she hadn't completed some assignments. The teacher met with this girl and offered her an extension, but she still wasn't doing
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interpret this aspect of Kautskyist ideology, it is necessary to identify the factors that motivated it. In our view its explanation must be sought in a new articulation of the category of 'necessity' as it was applied by <PERSON> to the contradictions of capitalist development. Since <PERSON> was convinced that these would make the advent of socialism inevitable as though by natural law, he concluded: 1) that revolutions cannot be fabricated; 2) that when their time comes there is no power on earth that can halt them; 3) that the progressive maturation of the revolution predisposed Social Democracy to harvest the fruits of its growing influence through respect for the rules of parliament, up to and including the conquest of power, without risings that would serve reaction; and 4) that the historically irresistible force of Social Democracy _could_ , given a democratic and parliamentary state, induce the ruling class to accept the verdict of history peacefully. 'Social Democracy,' <PERSON> wrote in the 'Catechism', 'is a revolutionary party, but it is not a party that makes revolutions.' He went on: 'We know that our objectives can be attained only through a revolution, but at the same time we know that it is just as little in our power to make this revolution as it is in the power of our opponents to prevent it.... The proletariat is constantly growing in numbers and in moral and economic strength... so its victory and the defeat of capitalism are inevitable.... Since we can know nothing about the decisive battles of the social war, we cannot say whether they will be bloody, whether physical violence will play a significant role in them, or whether these battles will be fought exclusively by means of economic, legislative, and political pressure.'
This said, however, <PERSON> declared that he considered the latter alternative more probable; it was towards this variant that the German party and proletariat were orienting themselves in practice. 'It may thus be said that in all probability methods of the latter sort will prevail over those of physical force, i.e. over armed violence, in the course of the revolutionary struggles of the proletariat much more than they did in the course of the revolutionary struggles of the bourgeoisie.'
<PERSON> noted that the immense superiority of the repressive arsenal commanded by the state militated against the success of violent revolutionary struggles. He also observed that in states with democratic institutions the exercise of political and civil liberties tended to reveal the 'balance of forces between particular parties and classes', which in itself influenced the 'spirit' of these parties and classes in a direction increasingly favourable to Social Democracy. <PERSON> seemed to assume that the ruling classes, however strong in military and police power, would be ever more demoralized and dispirited by political and social defeats. In his discourse democratic-parliamentary institutions acquire the character of common social values, respect for which would increasingly prevail. These institutions were becoming, he maintained, a general barometer for the various classes in struggle. It was correct to define them as the safety-valve of society,
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conclusion that Bolshevism could not be reformed and so must be brought down by a proletarian revolution aimed primarily at the restoration of political democracy, resuming the brief experiment cut short in October 1917.
In a speech to the Congress of the Socialist International held in Vienna in July 1931, <PERSON> presented his analysis: 'There are various roads to socialism. They include the road of violence, dictatorship and terror which the world-historical example of the Russian Revolution has rendered enticing to great masses of workers in all countries. Yes, we will not deny that in this manner too it is possible to take the means of production from the capitalists, to break the monopoly of property and education commanded by the possessing classes. We will not deny that the attempt to supplant capitalist anarchy with the planned organization of social production can be undertaken in this way'. <PERSON>, however, went on to argue that the price of such a 'dictatorial' road was a total political despotism that annihilated individual and collective freedoms, and concluded that it must not be taken in the developed countries: 'This path of violence, of dictatorship, of terror, is not ours. It is not the road that we desire. We do not want to renounce democracy and the political self-determination of the people in the name of socialism; rather, we seek to posit this democracy and self-determination as the very basis for the construction of a socialist society'.
There was something more in <PERSON>'s speech which related to the future strategy of the labour movement in the developed countries. <PERSON> maintained that the political option of the socialist forces in the West ought to be the democratic road. But at the same time he declared that if the bourgeoisie attempted to enslave the proletariat by the installation of fascism, then the working class would pursue the struggle for socialism 'even through means other' than those of democracy. In sum, although his speech indicated preference for the democratic, it did not exclude an undemocratic, road. <PERSON> thus lent general strategic legitimacy to the possibility of building socialism with the instruments of 'dictatorship' and therewith sanctioned the socialist credentials of the Bolshevik dictatorship.
<PERSON>'s reaction was sharp. He did not accept the possibility that there were 'different roads to socialism', some of which violated the obligatory connection between democracy and socialism. For him, there could only be different applications of democracy. <PERSON> insisted that the struggle against fascism must be a struggle to reassert the democratic method as essential to socialism, which could never be attained by an undemocratic road. Dictatorship was a too potent medicine that would infallibly destroy not only reaction but also the revolution, paving the way regardless of its intentions for an anti-proletarian régime, since the only mode in which the proletariat could express itself politically was democracy, both under the capitalist system and even more so under a socialist system. Violence could be used only to reconquer democracy. He reasoned that if the proletariat had not been strong enough to prevent the fascist degeneration of
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que tiene son los conflictos sociales y la pobreza.
[We are a cosmopolitan country, with people who have come from all over the world. We consume culture from all over the world. It would be senseless to limit ourselves to making films as if we were living in a country where social conflicts and poverty were the only thing we had.]
_Hoteles_ explores the tensions between cosmopolitanism and peripherality that characterize so many cultural discourses in Argentina. Paradoxically, then, the film's deliberate eschewing of local color brings into sharp relief the precariousness of Argentine film within the global culture industry and the importance of the national context in our reading of the film. Within this framework, however, it does much to demonstrate the instability of concepts of the local and the global. It lends support to critics such as <PERSON>, who reject the "unfortunate dichotomy between the local and the global" on which much research on global film culture is premised, arguing that the association of the local, on one hand, with "the immediate, the concrete, the real, the political, and the site of agency" and the global, on the other hand, with "the distant, the abstract, the ethereal, the corporate, and the site of containment" leads to "a rather rapid, and mistaken, critical closure around the local as the site of politicized difference and the global as the ideological production of homogeneity." _Hoteles_ empties the local of any sense of immediacy, politics, or realism in order to insert itself fully within the global, but in doing so, it reminds us of its grounding both in local discourses and in the material conditions of its production and distribution. By deconstructing the local in this way the film effectively resists the appropriation of the local as a place of purity or premodernity, rejecting a rhetorical move that—as I will explore further below—could ultimately be argued to serve the purposes of global capitalism.
### Reterritorialization and Reflexivity in _Bar El Chino_
_Bar El Chino_ (<PERSON>, 2003) interweaves documentary sequences focusing on <PERSON>, a tango singer who died in 2001, with a fictional narrative in the form of a love story between <PERSON> and <PERSON>, both professionals in audiovisual production who become involved in the making of the documentary. As a film about the making of a film based on a film that hasn't yet been finished, _Bar El Chino_ is a highly reflexive production that brings a strong element of self-referentiality to bear on its exploration of the status of the national in contemporary globalized frameworks.
The film is set during the Crisis and touches on the civil unrest that accompanied it. With particular economy, reference is made to a number of stock images of poverty and instability in Argentina at the end of the twentieth century, used here as ciphers for a whole series of social and political problems: the unemployed rummage through rubbish for food and recyclable items, young boys wash the windshields of cars momentarily held up at red traffic lights, and demonstrators bang empty pots and
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to Hollywood blockbusters what the bar itself is to ostentatious tango shows in high-tech Buenos Aires auditoriums: with some know-how, talent, dedication, and "feeling," the result (we are encouraged to suspect) may be much more "authentic." This discourse—of dignity in the face of poverty, of the survival of culture in the midst of economic collapse—has a nationalist end but is equally appealing to European consciences. It provides a space for a utopian belief that (as <PERSON>, one of the film's Spanish voices, expresses it) there is, or could be, somewhere out there, a group of people who do things differently.
20. _Bar El Chino_ takes a reflexive approach to the recycling and repackaging of traditional art and values within contemporary culture and technology
Shots of <PERSON> and <PERSON>'s onscreen editing of interviews carried out with the bar's singers (Figure 20) draw attention to the ways in which traditional culture and values may be captured, framed, recycled, and promoted for contemporary uses. Tango, cinema, and culture more generally—rather than beef—may well be Argentina's most successful products for export in times of crisis. If—in a very Argentine discursive formula—cultural success maintains a kind of compensatory relationship with economic failure, it is also worth pointing out, with Bourdieu, the convertibility of cultural capital with other forms of capital. With the threat of eviction hanging over <PERSON> family at the time of filming, the project acquired a strongly conservationist agenda; the bar is now firmly on the tourist map, recommended among others by the travel section of _The Economist_ Web site, whose writer complains, however, that the place "has lost some of its authenticity since tourists woke up to it." Films such as _Bar El Chino_ and _Hoteles_ demonstrate a consciousness of cinema's synecdochic relationship with the nation, being on the one hand positioned in geopolitical terms and, on the other, caught up in the ebbs and flows of international distribution networks. It is unsurprising, therefore, that film should play such a critical role in debates on cultural legitimacy and economic dependence that have long been significant in Argentine constructions of national identity and to demonstrate the politicization of culture under globalization.
# 6
MEMORY AND SUBJECTIVITY
Recent economic and political crises in Argentina have not displaced debates over postdictatorship memory, which appear to have lost none of their urgency since the early days of redemocratization following the regime's demise in 1983. The twenty-fifth anniversary of the military coup gave impetus to a critical reappraisal of those discourses that had been responsible for shaping collective memory: a number of prominent intellectuals (including <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and others associated with Argentina's premier cultural journal, _Punto de vista)_ called for a greater depth of engagement and a diversification of voices to challenge the sins of omission and repetition into which memory had lapsed. This renewed interest in the legacies of the dictatorship was not unrelated to the social context of its expression during the worst years of the Crisis (2001–2). In the rise of anticapitalist fervor in Argentina it has
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and the subject matter of Pulp's last recorded song, 'The Last Day of the Miners' Strike' – you might expect some hint of politics to their palpable resentment and anger, especially given that <PERSON> was a flying picket at the time. Yet as he recalled in a 2009 interview, <PERSON> felt little solidarity with miners who were otherwise the lads that beat him up every weekend.
Accordingly, the hatreds and dramas stay at a resolutely personal level, remaining in uncomfortable bedrooms, icy bedsits, with any conflicts being those between two people. The universalisation of all that resentment comes much later. For all that, some of these songs are becoming rich with observation, showing a lyricist starting to sharpen. Most of all, they display an attention to minutiae - from facial expressions to furnishings -that is increasingly striking; '97 Lovers', where a farfisa drone lies beneath the crooned tale of a woman who joylessly sleeps with a builder beneath a poster of <PERSON>, is the first sign of the eye that would write His 'N' Hers. In the cinematic 'Blue Glow', meanwhile, anticipation, or fear, builds towards a midnight encounter. Pulp also were audibly going towards something, but, if we regard their series of false starts, mistakes and disasters as a teleological advance towards the group they would become, we have first a detour into an aesthetic of relentless morbidity.
### I'll keep you and I'll throw myself away
The bleakness becomes particularly unpalatable on Freaks, surely one of the most lugubrious albums ever recorded. Without ever being a particularly good record, Freaks is at least worthy of its own chapter in <PERSON> <PERSON>' Freudian pop history The Sex Revolts, documenting as it does with unusual pungency and honestly a certain fear of coupling which runs through decades of pop. Freaks is much better encompassed by its prolix subtitle Ten Stories About Power, Claustrophobia, Suffocation and Holding Hands, rather than its obvious rubric, as it's not so much the study of difference and general nonconformist freakishness that one might expect, either from the title or from <PERSON>'s later work. Apart from <PERSON> two songs here, 'Fairground' and 'Anorexic Beauty', both of which cleave to the programme in their staccato, third-person manner, and the small-town terror of 'Being Followed Home', Freaks is an album about an interminable relationship - indeed, the one moment where it tries to shake itself out of its inertia, the Mitteleuropean flail of 'The Never-Ending Story', sounds like a purging attempt to finish some sort of real-life (un)romantic horror of a relationship. Accordingly, there is a lot of sex on Freaks, but it's very bad sex indeed. Outside of the warring couple, we've got some vignettes about masturbation, megalomania and anorexia. 'Disco 2000' this is not.
Sadly, given that it's entirely possible to channel all this misery into a major aesthetic statement, Freaks is mannered, dirge-like, appallingly produced, and marred most of all by some strained vocals, which constantly reach for the baritone force of <PERSON>, which is not smart if you lack
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compares to him. All I needed was a partner...and I'm so glad I found you', he groans over the churning, lurching beat. It's a fabulous record, and so much more likely than the album's apologies and fudges.
The most unforgivable absence of a song recorded for This is Hardcore from the album is 'Cocaine Socialism', a song which morphed into the considerably less remarkable 'Glory Days', something for which <PERSON> later confessed a regretful culpability; it ended up instead as the B-Side to A Little Soul'. Its subject matter, so undisguised that the libel laws were quite possibly the motivation for it being rewritten rather than mere cowardice, is a request by the New Labour government, after assuming power, to join one of its Cool Brittania receptions, where they could drink along with <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON> et al. It's hardly undisguised. Over a transparent parody of the beatless, shimmering intro to 'Common People', an incredulous voice says 'I thought you were joking when you said 'I want to see you, to discuss your contribution to the future of our nation's heart and soul...Six o'clock our place, Whitehall''. The anecdote is wickedly, depressingly believable:
I just want to tell you, that I love all of your albums...could you sign this for my daughter – she's in hospital, her name is...<PERSON>. Now I'll get down to the gist. Do you want a line of this, are you a – sniff – Socialist.
The 'Common People' parody builds momentum, with all manner of weirdness in the mix, from a derisive brass section to scrawled, feedbacking guitars and burbling synths. There are few better encapsulations of New Labour than what follows - 'just one hit and I feel great, and I support the welfare state...well you sing about common people, and the mistakes and the misfits, well can you bring them to my party, and get them all to sniff this'. They think they're funny, you see. ' Cocaine Socialism's viciousness was partly inspired by some of the first acts of the New Labour government – an immediate, and now-familiar attack on the weak, through the abolition of universal, free higher education, along with cuts to Lone Parent and Incapacity Benefit, neither of which were going to be taken lightly by someone who had spent almost the entirety of the 1980s on benefits of one sort or another. The sheer, insulting arrogance of presuming to speak for the oppressed while subscribing completely to the Thatcherite hierarchy of winners and losers was never better expressed. In this derisive, wonderful record, you can just smell the coked-up parties full of formerly principled government apparatchiks. 'We've waited such a long time, for the chance to help our own kind, so please come on and toe the party line...you owe it to yourself, you don't need anybody else – and we promise we won't tell – no, we won't _tell_!' Most encouragingly, the malevolent, bleary, cynical <PERSON> of 'Hardcore' is woken up from his slough of despond through a sudden rediscovery of the eloquent rage
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### **28** ♦ **Amos Rusie**
**(1889–1901, 248–167, 3.07 ERA)**
I am certain that when these rankings are published, I will hear from readers and from friends who feel that I have not given adequate recognition to players from the 19th century.
It is my opinion that the quality of play in major league baseball in the 19th century, and in particular before 1890, was far below the quality of play since 1900, and the ratings do reflect this opinion. There are many reasons to believe that this is true. Of those many arguments for the inferiority of 19th century baseball, perhaps the most compelling is the common success of teenagers, and in particular teenaged pitchers, in the 19th century major leagues:
* In the 1870s, <PERSON> won 69 games as a teenager.
* In the 1880s, eight pitchers won 20 or more major league games as teenagers, led by <PERSON> with 53 wins.
* In the 1890s, only two teenagers won 20 or more major league games—<PERSON> (49), and <PERSON> (42, including 12 in 1889). This decrease in the commonness of success by teenagers is reflective of an increase in the quality of play in the 1890s as opposed to the 1880s, but still, in all of twentieth century baseball, only one pitcher won 20 or more games as a teenager, that being <PERSON> (31). Altogether there were eleven teenagers who won 20 or more games in 19th century baseball (1876–1899)—as opposed to one in the twentieth century (1900–1999).
How can anyone argue that this does not reflect a lower quality of play in the 19th century? When you have large numbers of teenagers who are successful major league pitchers, isn't that persuasive evidence that the quality of play is not the same? It certainly is to me.
### **29** ♦ **Pedro Martinez**
**(1992–2000, 125–56, 2.68 ERA)**
Seven factorial—that is, seven times six times five, etc.,—is 5,040. Ten is not much larger than seven, but ten factorial is 3.6 million—seven hundred times larger. <PERSON> once expressed the thought that, when the time comes that we finally understand the difference between the mind of a man and the mind of a monkey, it will turn out to be something simple like this—that a man's mind is not vastly different from a monkey's mind, but rather, the human is capable of vastly more because some small advantages for the human create enormous differences by making combinations with one another, and with the other parts of the mind.
I think of that in connection with <PERSON>. How can he be _so much_ better than the other pitchers? His fastball is good, but there are 20 or 50 people in the league who throw just as hard. His curve isn't better than anyone else's, his control isn't. But he is vastly better _in toto_ because he has some additional factors—his ability to change his arm angle, his ability to change speeds on all of his pitches without losing control—which interact to make
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['eb0a10bc-a9f1-1e8a-361a-b4fdd5ecd28a']
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no repetition, and after a few minutes he decided he'd have to go and investigate. For a reasonably quiet approach over the board floors, he took off his shoes and socks, then left the Director's suite and hurried towards the spiral staircase. A few dim security lights shone. God, was this <PERSON> again? How deep could injury and the thirst for vengeance go?
As he made his way, he wondered how <PERSON> would have dealt with the intriguing, apparently growing trickiness of this situation. More than once lately <PERSON> had tried to invoke the memory of <PERSON>. Although he might feel only very limited admiration for his predecessor, he would concede that <PERSON> never panicked. There was, for instance, the famous tale from early in his career when he walked naked into a Meknes restaurant and demanded couscous and barley water, after being jumped by a gang of robbers as he left an excavation. More recently, <PERSON> had still managed to land that knighthood, despite the _vol-au-vents_ tainted with Stain-Out! and fed to the Minister and his entourage on Founding Day in the Octagon Room during Flounce's Directorship; despite, too, the unsettling rumours about Mrs <PERSON>, the haversack straps and so on.
<PERSON> had met nobody yet and seen nothing extraordinary, although the alarms still clanged and whined. Because of this noise and his lack of shoes, he could not hear his footsteps and seemed to progress silently, effortlessly, like dreaming. Further, the urgency, plus the feel of the fine old timbers on his soles, strangely exhilarated him. There was something invigorating about striding barefoot and fast through these chambers of eternally motionless antiquities, and for a moment he even experienced a little sympathy for <PERSON>'s performance in the Folk. Mightn't that have been only another fleshly assertion of vibrant life, and of the thrillingly pressure-filled present? Again, <PERSON> wondered whether he really did want early retirement. Apart from this sudden plunge into rich tension tonight, what chance would he have, if he left this job, of meeting and talking on quite intimate terms with someone as lovely as <PERSON>, the targeted lady from Kidderminster? This was important because it could be lonely and very demoralizing sometimes at home, now <PERSON> stayed out late to grab a quota of the post-pub trade at Spud-O'-My-Life, and sometimes _exceptionally_ late, as though the night's goings-on did not end when she shut up shop. <PERSON> might offer vague explanations – a club turning out well after midnight and people wanting a snack – and Lepage was not the sort to quiz and interrogate.
He entered the Raybould Gallery and realized straight away that his early placing of the broken-glass noise had been correct. First evidence of something wrong was a wave of much colder air on his feet: cold and possibly touched with moisture. Looking to the end of the Raybould, he saw that one of the lower panes in the window had almost totally gone. The wind rattled a few jagged remnants of glass sticking up at the bottom, and carried rain in,
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followed by a "to be" verb. We use the _it is_ and _there are_ beginnings as a crutch when we write our drafts. Unfortunately, the pronoun _there_ is abstract. The verb _to be_ merely indicates that something exists. So, _there are_ just tells the reader that something abstract exists.
Fixing the _there are_ and _it is_ ambiguity is more complicated than fixing _this_ or _it_ pronouns. Often, you need to restructure the sentence. Use the w _ho does what_ , _what does what_ logic.
It is necessary to use a purchase order for office supplies ( _who does what?_ ).
You need a purchase order for office supplies.
There are ten key milestones in our management plan ( _what does what?_ ).
Our management plan has ten key milestones.
In formal academic and scientific writing, the _It is_ opening combined with passive voice becomes a crutch to avoid using the pronouns _I_ or _we_. Unfortunately, this bad habit can undermine the author's credibility. _It is widely accepted, known, understood,_ or _believed_ are logical fallacies. These statements appeal to an anonymous authority. _Widely known by whom?_ Instead use phrases like _The medical community knows_ , or _The pharmaceutical industry knows_ , or _The American public knows_ , or _I know...._
_It is_ and _there are_ beginnings are abstract and boring. Notice how eliminating abstract beginnings makes your prose more lively. Compare the two versions of a tourist brochure:
_There is_ a sense of history in Easton, Maryland. _There are_ streets lined with Victorian homes. Each Saturday during the spring, _there will be_ garden tours hosted by the Easton Garden Society. (32 words)
Easton, Maryland has a sense of history.Victorian homes line the streets. Each Saturday during the spring, the Easton Garden Society hosts garden tours. (24 words)
When you fix the _it is_ and _there are_ beginnings, you either add value, shorten the sentence, or both. However, don't obsess. Either fix the problem quickly or move on. Some sentences need the crutch. For example, _It is raining_ is a natural expression, and alternatives may sound awkward.
Replacing ambiguous pronouns causes repetition. Don't worry about repetition now. Later, when you edit for economy, you can combine sentences or use vertical lists to cut the repetition.
Finally, other pronouns such as _he, his, she, hers, they, theirs,_ and _which_ also deserve a look:
When <PERSON> told his father _he_ wrecked _his_ car, _he_ was upset. (Who wrecked the car? Who was upset?)
<PERSON> wrecked his car. He was upset when he told his father.
# **8.6 Use Standard English Words.**
English already has enough words, about 1.2 million.We rarely need to supplement standard English words by using other languages or inventing words.
A hundred years ago, college students studied Latin and maybe some Greek. This educated class often used bits of Latin in conversation, almost as code to signify their level of education. If their families had money, they took the "Grand Tour" through France and Italy. These wealthy people used bits of French in conversation to signify their social status. Now, many people
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it _was determined_ that a filler substance in the weld caused the leak.
A careful examination of the pipe weld showed that a filler substance in the weld caused the leak.
You can also cut passive voice by eliminating actions that the reader does not need to know. Indeed, about half of all passive voice is about actions that the reader doesn't need to know. For example: _The ferry is designed to transport 120 automobiles_. If the _design_ is not an action the reader needs to know, eliminate the whole action: _The ferry transports 120 automobiles._ If the design is an issue, then tell the reader _who_ or _what_ designed the ferry: _Hyundai designed the ferry to transport 120 automobiles._ In most cases, the reader doesn't need to know about the actions _is designed_ , _is considered_ , _is expected_ , or _is intended_.
Here are two more edits of passive voice where we simply eliminated the action:
The copier _is located_ on the third floor. (Reader doesn't care who _located_ the copier.)
The copier is on the third floor.
The new price was calculated to return 7 percent on costs of goods sold. (Reader doesn't care who _calculated_ the return.)
The new price returns 7 percent on costs of goods sold.
Whenever the passive voice follows a _who_ , _which_ , or _that_ , you can usually cut the _who, which, that_ plus the _to be_ verb, thereby eliminating the passive voice:
Mr. <PERSON>, who _was_ recently _promoted_ to partner, gets a company car. (Reader doesn't care who _promoted_ Mr. <PERSON>.)
Mr. <PERSON>, recently promoted to partner, gets a company car.
The study group _was comprised_ of 50 males that _were selected_ at random. (Reader doesn't care who _comprised_ or _selected_ the study group.)
The study group was 50 males selected at random.
Often you can choose which technique to use to eliminate the passive voice. As the author, you are the best qualified to make the choice. The result is always a _who does what_ or _what does what_ sentence.
Passive: The paint _is_ then _allowed_ to dry for one hour.
_What does what_ : The paint dries one hour.
_Who does what_ : Allow the paint to dry one hour.
Passive: The investigation _is started_ only after a legal complaint _has been submitted_.
_What does what_ : The investigation starts only after a legal complaint.
_Who does what_ : The police start an investigation only after a citizen submits a legal complaint.
Remember, you are the only person who can confidently fix the ambiguity of passive voice.You know _who_ or _what_ does the action.You know whether the reader needs to know _who_ or _what_ did the action.
# **8.3 Simplify Tense: Stay in Present Tense When Possible.**
Tense is the form of the verb that tells the reader _when_ the action happens. In technical documents, most actions happen in the present or the past.
English has twelve tenses:
Some languages have more than twelve tenses, some less. In fact, all languages have only one tense in common—present tense,
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him deal with his mother's death and "get through my own grief." And it is difficult to miss the parallels between his character <PERSON> and his real-life mother. <PERSON> dies in the movie from a bout with cancer; <PERSON> succumbed to diabetes. <PERSON> is a highly spiritual woman, a loving mother, and a tireless worker with a generous heart, traits that correspond with the ways <PERSON> has described his mother throughout the years. But whereas actress <PERSON> (who plays Aunt <PERSON> in the movie) describes the film as <PERSON>'s tribute to his mother, I envision the movie more as <PERSON>'s psychotherapeutic assessment of his mother's existential immobility. From this vantage point, the movie captures how <PERSON> and <PERSON> share another thing in common beyond their virtues: the way their passivity allowed for their children to suffer on their parental watch, and hence the manner in which both <PERSON> and <PERSON>'s Christian virtues and capacity for longsuffering stood as ineffectual contrasts to the redemptive and retributive capacities of <PERSON>'s madness.
<PERSON> is quite vocal in interviews on how he and his siblings have physical and emotional scars from his father's bullying. During his October 2010 appearance on _Oprah_ , with tears welling up in his eyes, <PERSON> discusses being subject to vicious mind games as well as receiving a beating from his father so severe that he blacked out for three days. The ongoing brutality and psychological torture he recounts being subject to were in no way condoned by his mother, but were not prevented by her either. While <PERSON> special place in <PERSON> heart seems indisputable when considering the endearing comments he made before her death and those he continues to offer in her memory, the one attribute the filmmaker's mother lacked was a proclivity toward redemptive madness, the retributive means by which his father's alleged bullying would have been put to an aggressive and decisive end. Perhaps from young <PERSON>'s perspective, his mother could have used a real-life mad mentor like <PERSON> to help her rid herself of a daunting bully of a husband who allegedly terrorized the entire family for many years. Had such a madwoman actually existed, she might have mentored <PERSON> into conjuring up enough strength to leave his father or put him in the hospital.
And so as a filmic eulogy of sorts for <PERSON>'s mother, _Madea's Big Happy Family_ is both an indictment against passive Christianity and a celebration of the kind of agentive secularity exhibited by a madwoman like <PERSON>. We see this throughout the film with its ongoing contrast of <PERSON>'s sanctimony and inactiveness against <PERSON>'s madness and willful efficacy. <PERSON> appears as a woman of contemplation; <PERSON> as a woman of action. <PERSON> prays, <PERSON> punches, and it is the threat of <PERSON>'s mad punching power rather than the execution of <PERSON>'s prayers that restores order in the family. <PERSON> intimidates, threatens, and harasses <PERSON>'s kids throughout the movie, and while her tactics lack all sense of proportion, it is <PERSON>'s willful action, not <PERSON>'s
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intricate organizational structure, quite resourceful in its ability to capitalize on the best of modern advancements, and yet equally acquiescent to the call-and-response rhythmic dynamism of slave religion. So <PERSON>'s spiritual and artistic imaginations were birthed within the ministry of a visionary leader like Bishop <PERSON>, who taught young <PERSON> every Sunday through example how to be proud of his roots while at the same time striving for the highest levels of professional excellence and modern accomplishments. The filmmaker's artistic imagination and spiritual worldview were incubated within an intriguing folk-modern synthesis that would later diffuse into his own creative work as a curator of post-soul religious sensibilities. Simply put, <PERSON>'s ability to speak to the question of what it means to be black and modern in the post-soul age is inspired by his early Christian identity that seamlessly blended the folk with the modern.
So when <PERSON> left New Orleans in his early twenties to embark upon a career as a playwright, his early theatrical productions were imbued with folk-modern synergies. <PERSON> became a bridge between black mainstream art and neo-Pentecostal folk-modern vitality, and gospel music is the medium that brings those integrations into their sharpest focus. <PERSON> became the artistic personification of the very gospel music he sang in church, first as a playwright and later as a filmmaker who offers an upbeat and exciting representation of black spirituality. The riveting gospel music scores that appear in so many of his movies are the sounds of modern momentum in the backdrop of black folk-religious vitality. To understand gospel music as an intriguing folk-modern experiment (Best 2005) is to understand an integral part of <PERSON>'s appeal.
### Music and Preaching
<PERSON> most distinct cinematic contribution is a profound engagement with riveting gospel music, preaching, worship experiences, spiritual themes, and Christian tropes. The filmmaker does not just seamlessly blend cultural tools from reservoirs of black spirituality; he showcases them as important filmic characters. <PERSON> jumps right out of the gate with vivid displays of black spirituality with his debut movie, _Diary of a Mad Black Woman_. The protagonist, <PERSON>, is a Christian woman and her mother, <PERSON>, is even more devout as she spars over spiritual matters with <PERSON>'s carnal mother-in-law, <PERSON>. While the film is quite secular in its themes, characters, and plot, it seamlessly features pulsating scenes in a black church where a choir offers passionate songs extolling the virtues of <PERSON> and ends with a sermonic sequence, song, and invitation to congregants to come to the front of the church as a symbolic demonstration of desiring a special connection with God, the kind of "altar call" you would find in many black churches. What is most striking about this church scene is not only <PERSON>'s ability to capture the passion and theology of a contemporary worship experience with the choir's song and the preacher's energetic allusions to Old and New Testament passages, but also the amount of time <PERSON> devotes to pursuit of such authenticity. In his commentary for the DVD of _Diary of a Mad Black Woman_
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was present at the crucifixion. In 1918, the largest of the islands, Isla María Madre, was the site of a federal prison colony.
Announcing to everyone within earshot at the harbor that they were leaving on a "fishing trip," <PERSON> and his companion departed in a 25-foot sailboat for Las Tres Marias. Seven hours later they sighted the islands, and after sailing around the archipelago, landed at a desolate spot on Isla María Madre. The two men hiked around the area for several hours, but could see nothing through the dense, jungle-like vegetation. They returned to their boat, circumnavigated the island, and moored at a landing where steamers brought provisions ashore for the prison. Once again, they disembarked and reconnoitered the area, but finding nothing of value, returned to the boat and set sail for home.
At a gambling house in Mazatlán, <PERSON> uncovered the information that he had been unable to obtain on the fruitless excursion to Isla María Madre. He met a German agent named <PERSON> who introduced him to a fellow spy named <PERSON>. While they played the popular German card game of skat, <PERSON> engaged the pair in casual conversation on a variety of topics, eventually turning the discussion to Las Tres Marías.
"What do you people think of Las Tres Marías for a submarine base?" he asked.
"Oh, I have been there," <PERSON> replied. "It is too small. It is no good unless we could have complete control. There are a lot of prisoners there. The islands would make a good submarine base in one way, but there are so many rocks that approach would be difficult. There are much better places along the coast."
The talkative <PERSON> then told <PERSON> of his visit to Bahía de Banderas, the "Bay of Flags," a large inlet above Puerto Vallarta that lies two hundred miles south of Mazatlán. It has a most excellent harbor, <PERSON> advised, and is approachable by land from both Guadalajara and Tepic. <PERSON> learned that the Germans had sent a Spanish engineering team to Bahia de Banderas to scout the area in advance of establishing a submarine base there. A German named <PERSON> had been in charge of the operation.
<PERSON> returned to his office and composed a report on what he had learned for Military Intelligence.
It was typical that <PERSON> would find the information that he was seeking in a Mazatlán gaming house, since the port city had become a clearing house for German intelligence and a transit point for many of its agents. Mazatlán provided easy access to the United States by way of Nogales and Calexico, and once over the border, a short trip to San Francisco yielded railroad passage to cities across the United States and Canada, and connection with steamships traveling to Australia, China, Japan, Russia, and South America. Given its geographic location, Altendorf noted that "many things happened in Mazatlán."
One day in the spring of 1918, while waiting to see <PERSON> at the consulate, Altendorf met four German agents who had just returned from Magdalena Bay on
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complete her equipment as a raider."
"Under these facts," said <PERSON>, "we believe that if further evidence were needed to justify the condemnation, the testimony of <PERSON>, supported as it is, by the suspicious actions of the ship at the time of the capture, are sufficient to justify condemnation, on the ground that the boat was acting under the authority of the Imperial German Government, with whom the United States was at that time at war."
"I have no doubt but that the claim will be made that at the time of capture the _Agassiz_ was not upon the high seas," he continued. "This is however completely answered by the testimony of the boarding officer, Lieutenant <PERSON>, in which he states: 'I should say that she was well outside of the three mile limit.' "
"It is respectfully submitted," <PERSON> concluded, "that each of the foregoing circumstances, in itself, is a sufficient ground to justify condemnation, and taken together they make out a case for condemnation that is irresistible."
<PERSON> attorney, Mr. <PERSON>, rose to present her response to the government's charges, arguing against the confiscation of the _Alexander Agassiz_.
"The vessel ' _Alexander Agassiz_ ' was owned by an American citizen and was flying the U.S. flag, and was of U.S. registry at the time of seizure," <PERSON> began. "At such time it was on a trial trip carrying the written permission of the American Consul to make the trip. She had no cargo on board, and but a small amount of gasoline and provisions. She had on board no armament except two rifles and three revolvers, with about 150–200 rounds of ammunition that were found in the possession of the persons on board other than the master. These firearms were suitable for hunting and other like purposes."
"There is no evidence of anything unusual or strange in the vessel and her equipment or in her movements except the evidence of <PERSON>," <PERSON> continued. "The evidence of <PERSON> is incredible on its face. It is contradictory, and all the surrounding circumstances demonstrate its falsity. It is flatly contradicted in several material features by the testimony of the other witnesses. It should be disregarded by all rules of evidence in its entirety. The clear preponderance of the evidence shows that the vessel was not on the high seas, but in Mexican waters when the seizure was made. The testimony of the other persons on board, except <PERSON>, was that the ship was well within the three mile limit. The fact that the Mexicans on board the vessel were released substantiates this position."
"To say that a small forty-ton vessel could escape from a modern gunboat under such circumstances is to state an improbability," said <PERSON>. "The fact that the course of the _Agassiz_ was changed several times and that it did not stop is not at all unreasonable. The Mexican pilot was undoubtedly confused."
"There is nothing to show, except the testimony of naval officers at a distance, that anything was thrown overboard," <PERSON>'s attorney argued. "The persons on
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['edfbb0df-9e6c-961b-f249-0cc44171f0f1']
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and g5+. Or 4... d8 5 fxg6+ fxg6 6 f7.
But there was a counter-priyome that <PERSON> knew about and he replied **2... e4!**. This enabled him to occupy e5, which <PERSON> never managed to do in the previous example. Once again it's a case of what matters most. <PERSON> appreciates that the loss of his extra pawn doesn't mean as much as having room for his pieces to work.
There followed **3 fxg6 fxg6 4 dxe4 g7!** and <PERSON> has protected key squares at g6 and f6.
<PERSON> still has good play but <PERSON> had plenty of resources when the game continued **5 h1** and **5... e5! 6 d2 ae8**. A draw was the fair result following **7 g3 f5 8 xf5 gxf5 9 xf6 xe1+ 10 xe1 xf6**.
# Mastering Priyomes
It's harder to acquire a good appreciation of priyomes than it is to master pawn structures. For one thing, there are many more priyomes than structures. Often a single structure can have two or three priyomes, as in the last example. This applies to attack as much as it does to positional play.
The hanging c- and d-pawns and the related d4-isolani are two of the most common pawn structures. Both offer <PERSON> reason to be aggressive.
One of his priyomes is the explosive d4-d5. When <PERSON> is better developed, this can give him a quick advantage. But here the tactics don't justify 1 d5? exd5 2 xd5 b7. <PERSON> is at least equal.
Another priyome is the unlikely **1 h4!**. <PERSON>'s idea is to support g5, which will be followed by h5, to threat mate on h7. As strange as it may seem, it is quite common in positions with the same or similar pawn structures.
To play 1 h4 <PERSON> has to realize it is a gambit, 1... xh4 2 xh4 xh4 – and that it's a promising gambit after 3 e3, with the idea of h3/ c2 or g3/ g5.
Should <PERSON> accept the pawn? That depends on his alternatives. If he stops 2 g5 with 1... h6, <PERSON> will play 2 d3 and 3 c2, forcing another weakening to avert mate on h7.
In the game <PERSON> chose **1... b7 2 g5** and saw that 2... h6 allows a strong 3 xe6! fxe6 4 xe6. So he played **2... a5** instead and then came **3 c2**.
The power of 1 h4! is now evident. If <PERSON> meets the xh7+ threat with 3... g6, <PERSON> can prepare h4-h5xh6 or go straight into a standard sacrifice – another priyome – 4 xh7 xh7 5 h5+ g8 6 xg6.
<PERSON> chose **3... xg5** instead. But his kingside dark squares were a chronic weakness after **4 hxg5** and then **4... d5 5 d3! g6 6 g3**, followed by f4, ad1-d3 and h4.
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bcb510de-4814-5584-febd-c373e8bbf5bc
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['edfbb0df-9e6c-961b-f249-0cc44171f0f1']
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rule is difficult for many amateurs to accept. Part of the reason is that they're confused by the somewhat vague, somewhat imposing word 'positional'. If we replaced it with 'non-material' they'd have an easier time grasping positions like the following.
<PERSON> has a big positional – sorry, a big 'non-material' – edge because of his superiority on light squares. A master sitting in <PERSON>'s chair will try shifting his pieces around and around because it's so hard for <PERSON> to defend h7 and g8.
He doesn't have to calculate long variations to determine whether there is a forced win. He feels there is a _likely_ win. As long as he can keep making credible threats, that's enough for him to continue with confidence.
<PERSON> began with **1 d5**. He threatens 2 xe5, of course. But his main idea is 2 f7! followed by a decisive check (or a mate) on the eighth rank.
<PERSON>'s difficulties are illustrated by **1... f6**. This natural move meets both threats but leaves the knight unprotected. <PERSON> would reply **2 b5!**, with two new threats, 2 xb8+ and 2 e8+.
<PERSON> could meet one of them with **2... e6+**. But then comes **3 g4**.
The attacked knight is lost after 3... d7 4 f5 or 3... a6 4 f5 (4... f6 or 4... d6 allow 5 e8+).
That leaves 3... c8, abandoning a pawn, 4 xe5. <PERSON> would then be close to a forced win and can finish off immediately after 4... d7? 5 f5 and 4... c6? 5 c5.
<PERSON> avoided this fate by choosing **1... c7** instead of 1... f6 back at the previous diagram. He protects his knight and e-pawn this way but leaves the kingside vulnerable to e6-g6-h7 mate.
White prepared that with **2 f5!**. He needs to do that because the immediate 2 e6 allows 2... d7!, trading queens and fleeing into a likely draw.
Black found a defense in **2... c6**. His idea is to meet 3 e6 with 3... e7 4 f7 d8, when everything is, at least temporarily, covered.
But with such a huge positional edge – those light squares! – <PERSON> should be able to make progress with simple threats. The one he chose was **3 c4!**.
He threatens to win the knight with e4 (once he rules out... d7+ with 4 g4!).
<PERSON> would lose after the weakening 3... h5 because of 4 e6 e7 5 f7! and xh5+ or f8+.
<PERSON> tried **3... d6** but then came **4 f7!**. <PERSON> could have resigned in view of 4... f6 5 e8+ or 4... e7 5 f8+. But he waited until after **4... d8 5 g6!**.
If you looked up that game, you'd find another instructive point. Just before 1 d5, <PERSON> swapped a pair of rooks. He did
|
96cbd9ac-8258-1ee9-f534-8e81713c4955
|
['ee519c28-eb8d-5168-8c2a-af6435827d89']
|
head and stroked her hair with his left hand. She stirred and rubbed her cheek against his chest. He felt her yawn against him, and he smiled.
"Want to go swimming?" he asked. "I assume you brought a bathing suit, but I wouldn't care if you went naked."
She raised her head and looked at him with sleepy, contented eyes. "I brought a suit. I don't want sand and salt up my woo woo, thank you very much."
He laughed. "Sand up the woo woo would be a tragedy indeed. Especially since I plan to spend a lot of time up that woo woo."
Her brow crinkled. "Yeah, wouldn't that be like screwing sandpaper?"
His entire body shook with laughter, and he smacked her on the ass. He left his hand there and glanced down to see the faint red marks still on her behind. The sight turned him on all over again.
He shifted until she was positioned underneath him on the couch. He struggled out of his shorts and tossed them to the side. Then he nudged her legs apart with his knee and was deep in her pussy in two seconds.
This was no gentle lovemaking session. His need was urgent, and he wanted to fuck her senseless. He gripped her hips in his hands and rode her hard and deep. Her pussy wrapped around his cock. Sucked him deeper, heated, silky. As tight as her sweet ass had been, her pussy gripped him just as hard.
His balls drew up and tightened painfully. He elicited tiny gasps from her every time he pounded home. He ran his hands up her sides to her arms then up to her wrists. Gripping them tight, he pulled her hands above her head and held them there as he drove deep and locked himself against her.
He wanted to come inside her this time. Mark her his in the most primitive way a man can. He wanted to empty himself as deep in her as possible.
Her velvet pussy spasmed around his cock, and to his surprise, she orgasmed. She cried out, arching her chest forward as he held her captive against the couch. The sound of her pleasure pushed him over the edge. He hammered home one more time, clenched his teeth and came deep inside her welcoming heat.
As he felt the last jerk of his cock, he collapsed onto her. He let go of her arms and curled his arms around her, gathering her closely. He was holding too tight. She probably couldn't breathe worth a damn, but in that moment he didn't care. He wanted her as close to him as possible.
He kissed her temple and suddenly wanted to tell her more. Wanted to make her promises he wasn't sure he could keep but wanted to make nonetheless.
As he became aware of her struggling for breath underneath him, he pushed himself off her. His cock slid from her body in a rush of fluid. He gazed down at her pussy, pink and swollen from his lovemaking.
|
214daeef-1d0e-8610-f8f1-9213246ecf84
|
['ee519c28-eb8d-5168-8c2a-af6435827d89']
|
get from knowing how well you'd satisfied a man.
She ran a hand through her hair then shoved the locks behind her ears before finally turning to leave. When she walked into the living room, she saw <PERSON> standing at the French Doors, staring over the water.
She watched in silence, enjoying the outline of his powerful body. Then, as if sensing her presence, he turned and saw her.
His face softened, and his eyes lit up. A thrill shot up her spine as she saw his reaction to her.
"Hey," he said softly. "Did you sleep okay?"
She smiled and nodded.
He held out his arms. "Come here."
She went gladly, and she closed her eyes in pleasure as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. He threaded his fingers through her hair and let the strands slide through his fingers. Then he pulled her away.
"<PERSON>'s gone."
She felt a surge of elation. As much as she'd enjoyed the erotic experience of having two men, she wanted so much for it to be just the two of them now.
"Come sit down on the couch with me. I want to talk to you," he said quietly as he guided her toward the sofa.
He sat her down and took a spot across from her. He picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips before slowly lowering it to his lap.
She stared inquisitively at him. It was obvious he wanted to say something. Anticipation beat heavy in her chest.
"<PERSON>, the last few days...they've been just incredible. I don't have words to describe them."
She smiled. "I know," she said. "For me too." She took a deep breath and knew that this was it. She wanted to tell him how she felt. It was the perfect opportunity.
She looked down for a moment as she collected her courage, but <PERSON> nudged her chin upward with his finger.
"I hear a but in there somewhere," he said.
She shook her head. "No but." She looked him directly in the eyes and hoped he could see the love shining in hers. "<PERSON>, I love you."
Fire surged in his eyes at her declaration. He started to speak, but she laid a finger over his mouth. "Let me finish. I have so much to say."
He nodded, and she let her finger fall away.
"I should feel weak right now. Giving up control the way I did should make me feel smaller somehow. But I don't. In fact, I've never felt more empowered than I do right now. More in control of my own destiny. Maybe I didn't really know before exactly what I wanted, but I do now. I want you. And I realized why another man has never been able to satisfy me. It's because I didn't make the emotional connection with them that I did with you. I didn't trust them. And trust is everything. Without it I couldn't really let go of that control, and as long as I was holding fast to it,
|
ae8b794c-ef20-2c57-bbe3-4c7ed514d5bb
|
['eea2fab8-e776-fb47-f19b-be794aba3efa']
|
apple cider vinegar
2 jalapeño peppers, cored, seeded, and minced
Juice of 1⁄2 lime
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh cilantro or flat-leaf parsley
Salt, to taste
### Mango Facts
Did you know mangoes are the most popular fruit in the world? They are grown in tropical climates and are available to be enjoyed year round. In many countries, mango is eaten both ripe and unripe. The unripe mango is often pickled, seasoned, or made into a sauce and served with a savory meal. Sweet, ripe mangoes can be made into juice, smoothies, and fruit salads.
Pulse all ingredients in a food processor or blender. Turn into a bowl, chill, and serve.
## Tex-Mex Taco Dip
This is a super-easy gluten-free taco dip made with everyday pantry ingredients.
Ingredients
Serves 6
Nonstick cooking spray, as needed
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese
1 (14.5-ounce) can diced tomatoes, drained, 1⁄4 cup juice reserved
1⁄2 cup refried beans
1 (1.25-ounce) package gluten-free taco seasoning
1⁄4 cup sliced black olives
### Make Your Own Taco Seasoning
You can create your own taco seasoning to keep on hand by mixing together: 1 tablespoon chili powder, 1⁄4 teaspoon garlic powder, 1⁄4 teaspoon onion powder, 1⁄4 teaspoon dried oregano, 1⁄2 teaspoon paprika, 11⁄2 teaspoons cumin, 1 tablespoon granulated sugar, 1⁄2 teaspoon salt, and 1⁄2 teaspoon ground black pepper. Store in an airtight container and use when a recipe calls for taco seasoning.
1. Grease a 1.5-quart slow cooker with nonstick cooking spray.
2. Add cream cheese, drained diced tomatoes, reserved tomato juice, refried beans, and taco seasoning. Mix together, cover, and cook on low for 4–5 hours or on high for 2–21⁄2 hours.
3. Right before serving, sprinkle sliced black olives on top of dip. Serve with gluten-free corn chips, rice chips, or gluten-free toast points.
## Rosemary Basil Crackers or Crispy Pizza Crust
This versatile recipe can make crispy, crunchy crackers or a cracker-like pizza crust. Either is delicious and incredibly easy to make.
Ingredients
Makes 1 (12") pizza crust or 30–40 small crackers
13⁄4 cup blanched almond flour, plus extra for rolling out dough
1⁄2 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon dried, crushed rosemary
1 teaspoon dried basil
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large egg
1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. In a medium mixing bowl whisk together blanched almond flour, sea salt, dried rosemary, and dried basil. Whisk together. Make a well in the center of dry ingredients and add olive oil and egg.
3. Mix egg and olive oil into the dry ingredients thoroughly until you have a stiff dough.
4. Place a 12" × 16" sheet of parchment paper on a large baking sheet. Lightly sprinkle blanched almond flour over the parchment paper and place the dough in the middle, on top of flour. Place a sheet of plastic wrap gently over the dough as a barrier between the dough and the rolling pin. Roll to 1⁄4" thickness or roughly into a 10" × 14" rectangle. Score crackers by gently rolling a
|
3f67713f-71be-ea28-85cc-2ea62b83e9e2
|
['eea2fab8-e776-fb47-f19b-be794aba3efa']
|
cranberries make a tasty addition to many everyday foods. Add them to cereal, trail mix, oatmeal cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and salads for a sweet and tart surprise.
1. Toss together all ingredients except lettuce in a large bowl.
2. Lay out lettuce leaves, add turkey filling, and roll them up.
## Grilled Vegetable and Cheese Panini
Panini are grilled sandwiches usually stuffed with vegetables, cheese, and grilled meat. They are grilled in a panini press or in a frying pan with a heavy weight on top to squish them down. You can use a heavy frying pan or foil-covered brick as the weight.
Ingredients
Serves 2
2 baby eggplants, thinly sliced
1⁄2 yellow summer squash, cut into 1⁄4" coins
1⁄4 cup Italian Dressing (see recipe in Chapter 12)
1 medium red bell pepper, cored and seeded
2 teaspoons grated Parmesan cheese
4 slices gluten-free Italian bread
2 thin slices Muenster cheese
2 teaspoons crumbled Gorgonzola cheese
Oil, as needed
1. Preheat grill on medium. Brush eggplant and squash with about half of the dressing.
2. Grill eggplant and squash on each side. Grill bell pepper, turning until charred on all sides. Place pepper, while still hot, in a plastic bag. Let cool, then peel off skin. Slice into strips. Sprinkle veggies with Parmesan cheese and set aside.
3. Spread both sides of each bread slice with remaining Italian Dressing. Load 2 slices with vegetables and Muenster and Gorgonzola cheese, and top with remaining bread slices.
4. Lightly oil a large frying pan or panini press and heat on medium. If using a frying pan, place a second pan or foil-covered brick on top of sandwiches in the frying pan. Toast the sandwiches on medium heat until well browned. Turn if using a frying pan.
5. Cut sandwiches and serve piping hot.
## Bacon, Kale, and Sun-Dried Tomato Quiche
This lovely crustless quiche makes a beautiful dish that's fancy enough for company. Spinach, Swiss chard, or other dark leafy greens can be substituted for the kale.
Ingredients
Serves 4
Nonstick cooking spray, as needed
5 large eggs
1 (14-ounce) can unsweetened coconut milk
1⁄2 teaspoon salt
1⁄2 teaspoon ground black pepper
6 ounces bacon or turkey bacon
1–2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium sweet onion, diced
3 cups chopped fresh kale
1⁄2 cup chopped sun-dried tomatoes
### Use What You Have on Hand
Don't have bacon? Use 1⁄2 pound of bulk sausage or ground beef. Don't have kale? Use a bag of fresh baby spinach instead. Don't have sun-dried tomatoes? Use a chopped red bell pepper instead. Don't need to worry about dairy? Add 1⁄2 cup shredded Cheddar or mozzarella to the whisked eggs.
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9" deep-dish pie pan with nonstick cooking spray.
2. In a large bowl whisk together eggs, coconut milk, salt, and pepper. Set aside.
3. In a large heavy-bottomed skillet cook bacon on medium-high heat to desired crispiness. Remove from pan and
|
a09de8b1-520a-5792-4a10-9f618859f114
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|
I say Black lives matter and you say all lives matter. You say the rule of law and I say the rule of the Ten Commandments. You say rights and I say the market. I say care for the environment and you say care for creation, if you say anything at all.
These, then, are the social uses, and the social abuses, of the absolute. Our certainties shape our identities, and our identities shape our certainties. We go blundering ahead, convinced that the solution to our conflicts lies in establishing the one right way for everyone—one right way that we believe is not based in our own interests, even though it happily does serve our interests. For it is, after all, everyone's one right way, we contend.
But at the same time that we go grasping for this elusive release into a nonpolitical politics, the oldest questions of the ancient triangle come right back to us, ever unanswered in the continued unfolding of time and surprise. In that unfolding, it seems to me, we can discover space for optimism about human cooperation and justice. While the origins of nonpolitical politics and fearful hotness lie in our thirst for certainty, for really knowing, the origins of political politics and awesome coolness lie in our appreciation for enigma, for never really knowing. Herein lies the most awesome and cool power of the Great Mystery: the way it encourages us to be forever open to further experience of the world and to further experience of each other.
10
The Jewel of Truth
THE FIRE HAS BURNT pretty well down now, and it's getting late. Shall we throw one last log on? Yes, that nice piece of oak. There's one more story I'd like to tell, and then talk over for a bit if you've a little more energy. A fairy tale, not too long. One log should do. I call it "The Three Lions of the Deep Earth." No, I don't need any more chocolate—for the moment, at least! Oh, but another splash in my glass would be very nice. Perfect. Thanks. You good too? Great.
Once upon a time, there was a King and a Queen who had three sons and one daughter. The sons were all handsome and clever, and the daughter was beautiful and smart. Why? Because this is a fairy tale, that's why.
One day, a prince from a neighboring kingdom came to visit, and he immediately fell in love with the daughter and she with him. They decided to wed. When the King and Queen heard of it they were overjoyed, for the visiting prince was handsome and clever like their own sons. The wedding date was set for a year hence.
The King and Queen wanted to send their daughter off in style into her new life. What to give her as a present but a new crown, set with the most beautiful jewel that could be found? Yes, that was it. They called their three sons before them and instructed them each to go out and find the
|
b84312aa-0a59-fd98-803a-ff43120e471b
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|
National University, which is in Jeju-shi, the capital city of Jeju Island, which lies off the southern coast of South Korea. It was another wonderful trip that got me thinking. I didn't bring home another pearl, though. Instead I came back with a plain wooden dipper. It still hangs in our bathroom at home. I use it to rinse after brushing my teeth, or for a little drink of water now and again. The handle has a couple of symbols in Korean script carved into it. I can't read what they say. At least what they were intended to say: I can read what they say to me.
I remember well the afternoon I got the dipper. I'd just arrived on Jeju Island. The conference was to begin in a couple of days, so I had time to look around. After my host dropped me off at my hotel, I decided to take a bus out to Sanbangsan, a volcano that spurted out a million years ago right on the edge of the southwest coast of Jeju. It turned out to be an excellent choice. Sanbangsan is about twelve hundred feet high, and rears straight up out of a flat strip of coastal land. It looks twice as high as it is. Plus it has a lovely Buddhist temple, with a fabulous bell at the top, rung by a massive log like a battering ram that swings into it from chains hung from the roof of the bell tower. I had a great walk along the beach below and met a couple of Jeju's famous women shell divers, wading out into the rocks and waves. One of the women sold me a huge, fresh oyster, slathered with chili paste. It didn't have a pearl, but it wasn't supposed to. And it was delicious. We chatted delightedly for about fifteen minutes, she entirely in Korean and I entirely in English, with lots of laughter and pointing. I didn't understand a word of it.
But it didn't matter. I understood the all of it—or so it seemed in that bright moment. For after visiting the temple, and before heading down to the beach, I had taken the stairs up to a cave a good ways up the mountain. A Buddhist monk lived there a thousand years ago, they say. Inside the cave is a statue of the <PERSON> and a series of pools filled by a constant drip of healing water from the ceiling. "The tears of the <PERSON>," people call the drips. On the way up the long course of steps, a Korean craftsman sold me my wooden dipper so I could have a drink of the tears. I entered the cave mouth and waited for my eyes to adjust. Another flight of stairs led up and into the cave, with the statue of the <PERSON> at the top. I climbed up to the highest pool, just beneath the <PERSON>. That day the tears were vigorously streaming into the pool from the cave roof, not just drips but a shower of purity. Perhaps
|
c8c4af27-aa52-1455-2590-fae085674a9a
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['eee7ac20-8064-d408-e84a-b5e26d24b278']
|
all health care systems, whether private systems, such as 'managed care' in the US, or publicly funded systems, such as the British National Health Service.
If the best treatment cannot always be provided then choices have to be made. The general question of how our limited health care resources should be distributed is one of the most important in medical ethics. The quality and quantity of thousands of people's lives will be affected by the answers that we give.
* * *
**National expenditure on health: examples of some of the wealthier nations**
* * *
### **Quality of life**
Some medical treatments have little or no effect on life-span but improve quality of life: hip replacement for osteoarthritis is an example. One rather deep problem that faces us in thinking about the right way to distribute health resources is how we compare and evaluate the relative importance of improving quality of life _vis-à-vis_ extending it. I am not going to tackle this issue, nor the problems associated with the measurements of quality of life in the first place. I will focus exclusively on life-extending treatments since there are more than enough problems in thinking about allocating resources to these treatments alone. There are many examples of life-extending treatments. Surgery for appendicitis extends life because without such surgery most people would die. Breast cancer screening can extend life because early detection and treatment can increase life-span. High blood pressure increases the risk of death from heart attack and stroke. Treatment that lowers blood pressure reduces, although it does not eliminate, this risk. Renal dialysis keeps those people alive whose kidneys no longer function adequately. Each year of dialysis is a year more life.
### **In control of a budget**
Imagine that you are in charge of a health service for a particular population. You have a limited budget – you cannot afford the best treatment for all of the people all of the time. You have decided how to spend most of your budget and you have a few hundred thousand pounds left uncommitted. You sit down with your advisers to consider the best way of spending this last remaining tranche of money. There are three possibilities and you must choose one of them. The possibilities are:
(1) a new treatment for bowel cancer that gives the relevant patients a small but significant chance of increased life-expectancy;
(2) a new drug that lowers the chance of death from heart attack in people with genetically induced raised blood cholesterol;
(3) a new piece of surgical kit that ensures a lower mortality from a particularly difficult kind of brain surgery.
On what basis do you choose between these possibilities?
One approach that has a lot going for it is to say: there is no good reason to prefer one person's year of life over another person's, or to give any priority to people who would benefit from the bowel cancer treatment over people who have the genetically induced high blood cholesterol or to people with the brain tumour. In each case people stand to
|
16fead40-3707-b88e-e494-0a8aabf66613
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['eee7ac20-8064-d408-e84a-b5e26d24b278']
|
appeared on the screen. It discussed the use of IV tubes in extreme cases. _Extreme cases?_ Unless they did something soon, the little girl in the Lena Ward would die in excruciating pain. _Time is brain._
Back in their cottage, <PERSON> faced <PERSON>. "Was this what you consider a good outcome?"
Just before they operated on the two-year-old, <PERSON> and <PERSON> worked together on an elderly man with a head injury. They had drilled three burr holes to relieve the pressure. But afterward, the man developed horrific bed sores and a brain abscess. The operation probably caused the abscess to form, and the bedsores erupted because nurses failed to reposition the man's body afterward. The man survived but had to undergo another procedure to drain the abscess. He was in incredible pain.
"Yes, it was a good outcome," Dilan fired back.
Not for the patient, of course. Mayegga had failed to prevent the infection, and worst of all, failed to make sure the hospital staff turned the man in his bed. But all good doctors could trace their successes to moments where they failed. He could talk to <PERSON> for hours about proper infection-control techniques, but unless <PERSON> experienced the pain of failure—saw with his own eyes how his actions or lack of actions caused needless suffering, well, he would never truly learn. Hit the enemy hard and fast, and deal with the casualties up front. In <PERSON>'s case, the enemy was time. Once <PERSON> was gone, Mayegga wouldn't have any backup. The more you babied trainees, the longer you delayed their independence.
They had better success with the makeshift VP shunts. <PERSON> had shown <PERSON> how to drill a hole on the side of the child's head. He'd guided <PERSON>'s hands as he inserted the IV tube into the ventricles. He'd taught him how to work the rest of the IV tube under the skin down the child's neck and chest until it reached the abdomen. They had operated on the two-year-old girl and several other babies, and they seemed to do well afterward.
Day after day they worked on patients. He taught <PERSON> how to use the wire saw to do craniotomies. They did more hydrocephalus cases. They worked on babies and elderly men and women. They talked about each patient afterward—what went right and what went wrong.
As the weeks passed Dilan backed away from the operating table just a tad, another technique to instill confidence. An operating room had invisible zones: one immediately around the patient where the surgeon and scrub nurse worked, and a second ring a few inches outside for students who assisted, and then farther out, a third for observers. If an attending was in your zone, you knew you had backup. If the attending was outside this zone, even just a few steps, you felt as if you were on a high wire.
As <PERSON> mastered certain techniques, <PERSON> stepped out of the first zone. And then as the weeks passed, he stepped from the second to the third, even left the room altogether,
|
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['efd3cace-b83a-189a-2b91-97b01de58ca4']
|
the two faiths? Or does the picture that is drawn here, whether it goes back to the <PERSON> himself or to someone else before the hadith was written down in the ninth century, offer us simply a faithful Muslim's idea of how the end times will turn out?
End Times
For many outsiders, Americans and Western Europeans in particular, it may look as though IS has other aims, most spectacularly the establishment of a state ruled by Islamic law, sharia. When we find Americans and others opposing, by legal and occasionally by extra-legal means, the building of mosques in their local communities and trying to pass legislation to prevent the imposition of sharia law in their states, it is clear that they see IS as a tool for the spread of the Islamic faith to all corners of the world. And indeed, IS itself proclaims that that is among its aims. But the spread of Islam is only a way station along the path to a more far-reaching aim, the apocalypse.
For Muslims, Christians, and Jews alike an apocalypse is one of the signs, one of the events, of the end times. It heralds the final judgment and the eternal fate of the believer. But for most Muslims, as for most Christians and Jews, the scriptural imminence of the end time has been deferred under the pressure of this-worldly, quotidian reality. For Christians, the Second Coming was promised in the gospels as coming in the lifetime of those hearing the promise: <PERSON> himself said, in the gospels (Mark 13:30; also Matthew 24:34), "Verily I say unto you, that this generation shall not pass, till all these things be done." Similarly Matthew 16:28 (see also Mark 9:1; Luke 9:27): "Verily I say unto you, There be some standing here, which shall not taste of death, till they see <PERSON> coming in his kingdom." And, from a different point of view, the first epistle of <PERSON> (2:18) tells us: "Little children, it is the last time; and as you have heard, that <PERSON> shall come, even now are there many Antichrists, whereby we know that it is the last time." That Second Coming did not materialize quite so immediately, and its fulfillment has been put off by most Christians to an indefinite future.
Scripture itself does not specify such an imminent salvation for Jews. That was a notion that entered Judaism after the closing of the biblical canon. Nevertheless, Jews "believe with perfect faith," as <PERSON> put it elegantly in the twelfth century, "in the coming of the <PERSON>; and though he tarry we wait daily for his coming," similarly recognizing that imminence need not mean putting off daily tasks.
So too Muslims: the Quran communicates in the manner of a hell-fire preacher, warning its hearers—for the Quran is a record of God's speech delivered by <PERSON> to his fellow Arabs—not only of the joys of paradise but also of the torments of hell. And those torments may come at any time. The final day is not coming at some vague,
|
b75f641f-f2a5-6d65-a4d7-99ebe0cf6d7a
|
['efd3cace-b83a-189a-2b91-97b01de58ca4']
|
and neglected.
The larger predictions, about Dabiq and what it meant for Islam and the end of the world, however, survived and became absorbed into the larger mass of traditions carrying the authority of the <PERSON>. They were postponed, reserved to an immeasurably distant future. If the year 100 and the caliph <PERSON> were not to mark the beginning of the conquest of Constantinople at Dabiq, then that place, in a reliable prediction ascribed to the <PERSON> himself, will still be the site of the start of the final apocalypse; but that can happen only if the right conditions are prepared.
Using the tools of modern scholarship, it is easy to deconstruct the cluster of ideas and bits of information underlying this particular explicit and detailed prediction. We can observe it developing out of the circumstances of a specific historical moment, only to see that moment pass without delivering on its promise. As a consequence, and in order to retain at least a kernel of that promise, it was shorn of the details that tied it to that moment and instead became a much vaguer, looser prophecy of a distant, millennial future. But religion is not scholarship and messianic movements have little interest in analyzing the roots of their claims. It is that vague, loose remnant of a larger prophetic bundle that IS aims to realize.
Conclusion
THE ISLAMIC STATE REPRESENTS a major challenge to the world today. An obvious comparison is with the Iranian revolution of 1978–1979; yet IS is more threatening. Far more than the Iranians of 1978–1979, IS enjoys the advantages conferred by modern media and instantaneous communications. IS is completely unafraid about being brutal and about being seen as uncivilized in its methods. IS is successful beyond borders—extending over two countries today and active much farther, in other countries and continents nearly worldwide. Only Latin America seems to have escaped its attentions, at least so far. IS employs terror on a wide scale, something that Iran has done in essence only against Israel. IS attracts large numbers of recruits from outside, both from the Islamic world and from the West. IS attacks, in Islamic countries and in the West, seem indifferent to the efforts of law enforcement and to military responses. IS attempts to obtain nuclear material, even for a so-called "dirty bomb," if successful would be much more, and far more immediately, dangerous than the Iranian activities that the West has spent so much effort blocking over the last two or three decades. Above all, IS preaches an ideology that has a much more broadly Islamic appeal than that of the Iranian Revolution: it is Sunni and not Shi'i, hence identifiable with the great majority of the world's Muslims; again unlike the Iranians, it makes genuinely universal claims; it proffers an institution, the caliphate, with appeal and historical claims right across the spectrum of Islam; and, in this too unlike the Iranians, it not only promises an imminent apocalypse but also is attempting to follow through by engaging in extreme forms of violence aimed at hastening that
|
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['efdbf450-02d8-3eb9-cb9a-13be8404d44b']
|
he would have some of the lawyers from his own firm come to L.A. to work with me and that we in turn could go to the ranch and brief him, but I knew that it just wouldn 't work in this case. I needed someone here hands-on, every day. As much as I regretted it, I realized I couldn 't hire him.
Later on, when <PERSON> was interviewed and asked about the team approach to a criminal case, he said that for him, trying a case is like <PERSON> making a painting: Only one person can control the brush. When <PERSON> and I were in the car on the way to court a few weeks later, I repeated the jazz band versus <PERSON> analogy, and he laughed. "<PERSON> must 've been talking about <PERSON> 's jazz band," he said.
<PERSON> got back into town the following week. <PERSON> had given him the go-ahead to join the <PERSON> defense. On July 1, we met at my office. I told him that I was authorized to bring him on board. He accepted enthusiastically.
We never talked in terms of lead counsel and second chair; it was, to me, a joint effort. Initially I was referred to in the press as the lead trial lawyer; within a couple of days I was being referred to as co-lead counsel. I had no problem with our relationship, since it fit my concept of how we would work together. Fittingly, we used an analogy to football. There would be a team owner and part-time coach: <PERSON> Then there would be the quarterback: me. I would be <PERSON> 's <PERSON>, who had been his quarterback on the Buffalo Bills. And then the quarterback would hand off to somebody as good as <PERSON>, and that would be <PERSON>.
In that first meeting, <PERSON> and I discussed the issue of race, and our hope that a black lawyer and a white lawyer working together on behalf of another black man would be a good message to send. He then told me that because his law practice was primarily civil, and because he had a great deal of legal and clerical support in his offices, he would continue to maintain his civil calendar, which produced substantial income, during the <PERSON> trial. We shook on our new relationship, agreeing to keep our collaboration confidential (not even telling <PERSON> and the other members of the team that the decision was definite) until we got to court on Friday, July 22, for <PERSON> 's arraignment. However, NBC reported the night before that <PERSON> was definitely joining the defense. I supposed it was because he 'd told them he wouldn 't be commentating for them anymore.
Friday morning, <PERSON> and I met at my office and we went together to the courthouse, where two or three hundred people, not to mention satellite dishes and sound trucks, were waiting for us. Eight uniformed officers tried to cordon the people off, but the cameras and microphones came at us as we
|
89a24b2f-b0c5-e047-26a8-106936f92ea0
|
['efdbf450-02d8-3eb9-cb9a-13be8404d44b']
|
<PERSON> simply ignored the story. I respected his ability to know when to be tough and when to tone things down, both in and out of court. We made frequent jokes at each other 's expense—I chided him about his unduly loud neckties, he kidded me about my diminishing hairline.
I had expected there would be competition between us, and I wasn 't surprised or unduly alarmed when I started seeing the signs. Competition is, as I 've said, as intrinsic to the nature of defense attorneys as their muscular egos.
In September, I was contacted by the editors of _Vanity Fair_ magazine and asked if I would assent to an all-defense-team photograph, including lawyers, support staff, and investigators. The portrait, to be taken by <PERSON>, would be for the December "Hall of Fame" issue. I agreed, and on the appointed day, as everyone began to gather at the office, and <PERSON> and her crew of eight or nine people spent the better part of the morning setting up to shoot in the firm 's law library, I got a call from <PERSON>.
"<PERSON>, I can 't be in this picture," he said. "<PERSON> hates _Vanity Fair,_ and he 's said he doesn 't want me to have any part of this."
I was taken completely by surprise. But I knew that <PERSON> was a valued, longtime client, and <PERSON> had to honor his wishes. I realized that was why <PERSON> and <PERSON> hadn 't shown up yet, either.
When I apologetically repeated what <PERSON> had told me to <PERSON>, she said, "That can 't be true about <PERSON> hating _Vanity Fair_ —I 've just been contracted to do a cover story on him!"
Whatever the reasons, it seemed that no one on <PERSON> 's staff would be participating.
With the other lawyers, the office staff, and the investigators, there was enough of the <PERSON> defense team to make a decent showing. But there wouldn 't be a single black professional face in the picture. This wouldn 't represent either the composition or the spirit of the defense team. In fact, it would signal dissent among us. I saw that I had no choice. Over <PERSON> strenuous objections, and with great apologies to <PERSON> and her hardworking crew, I canceled the picture.
Everyone who had assembled for the photo session was very disappointed. The lead lawyers had been in the spotlight for months, and this would have been a chance for those who had received little or no public acknowledgment to be recognized for their long days and weeks of hard work, and maybe even have some fun.
The following day was miserable for everyone, with tension and a new uncertainty permeating the office. In addition, there were news reports that <PERSON> had given interviews announcing that <PERSON> would testify on his own behalf. I was upset to hear this. We hadn 't even finished picking a jury yet, the evidence wasn 't all in. It was only September. We were nowhere near
|
fed75331-ab67-7e07-5ba3-4ae58b77f10a
|
['f04ad258-378c-8e25-f051-91f6adcc6e28']
|
Road to Serfdom,_ " introduction to "The Road to Serfdom," in <PERSON>, _The Road to Serfdom, with The Intellectuals and Socialism_ (Institute of Economic Affairs, 2001), 28; Critchlow, _Conservative Ascendancy,_ 122; Micklethwait and Wooldridge, _Right Nation,_ 80; Manhattan Institute, _Manhattan Forums: The First Five Years,_ http://www.manhattan-institute.org/pdf/mi_five.pdf; <PERSON>, "Who Pays for Think Tanks?," Fairness & Accuracy in Reporting, July 1, 2013.
. Phillips-Fein, _Invisible Hands,_ 176.
. <PERSON>, "Covert Operations," _New Yorker,_ Aug. 30, 2010; <PERSON>, "Inside the Koch Brothers' Campus Crusade," Center for Public Integrity, March 27, 2014; <PERSON>, "Koch Brothers' Higher-Ed Investments Advance Political Goals," Center for Public Integrity, Oct. 30, 2015; <PERSON>, "Billionaire's Role in Hiring Decisions at Florida State University Raises Questions," _Tampa Bay Times,_ May 9, 2011.
. <PERSON>, _The Rise of the Conservative Legal Movement: The Battle for Control of the Law_ (Princeton University Press, 2008), 93–100.
. <PERSON>, _Age of Fracture,_ 58.
. <PERSON>, _The Rise of the Conservative Legal Movement,_ 105–8, 112–13, 115–17.
. Quoted in ibid., 212.
. Ibid., 211.
. <PERSON>, _Economics in One Lesson,_ vii.
. Quoted in <PERSON>, _Rise of the Counter-establishment,_ 64.
. Quoted in <PERSON>-<PERSON>, _Invisible Hands,_ 163.
. <PERSON>, "The Young and the Economically Clueless," _Wall Street Journal,_ Feb. 19, 2016.
. <PERSON>, _Selling Free Enterprise: The Business Assault on Labor and Liberalism, 1945–60_ (University of Illinois Press, 1994), 40, 83–85.
. Ibid., 40, 174–75.
. <PERSON>, "What Does It Mean to Be 'Economically Literate' Anyway?," _FT Alphaville_ (blog), _Financial Times,_ March 25, 2016.
. Fones-Wolf, _Selling Free Enterprise,_ 196–97, 201–5.
. <PERSON>, "Make Payroll, Not War: Business Culture as Youth Culture," in <PERSON> and <PERSON>, _Rightward Bound,_ 55–61, 69.
. <PERSON>, _Economics in One Lesson,_ 5.
. Ibid., 98.
. <PERSON> and <PERSON>, _Right Nation,_ 79.
. <PERSON>, _Conservative Intellectual Movement,_ 134–40.
. <PERSON>, _Masters of the Universe,_ 173.
. <PERSON>, _God and Man at Yale: The Superstitions of "Academic Freedom"_ (Henry Regnery, 1951), 51; <PERSON>, "Our Mission Statement," _National Review,_ Nov. 19, 1955; <PERSON>, _Up from Liberalism_ (Honor Books, 1965), 201–2.
. <PERSON>, _Way the World Works,_ xv–xvi.
. <PERSON>, _Rise of the Counter-establishment,_ 194.
. <PERSON>, _Way the World Works,_ chaps. 7, 11.
. <PERSON>, "It's Time to Cut Taxes," _Wall Street Journal,_ Dec. 11, 1974.
. <PERSON>, _Way the World Works,_ 346; <PERSON>, _Rise of the Counter-establishment,_ 185–86, 201–2; <PERSON>, _The Big Con: The True Story of How Washington Got Hoodwinked and Hijacked by Crackpot Economics_ (Houghton Mifflin, 2007), 16.
. <PERSON>, "Utah's Schools Showdown," _Washington Post,_ Nov. 1, 2007; <PERSON>, "Social Security: Opportunity, Not a Crisis," _Washington Post,_ Jan. 20, 2005.
. <PERSON>, "The Center-Right Moment," _New York Times,_ May 12, 2015; <PERSON>, "The Minimum Wage Muddle," _New York Times,_ July 24, 2015.
. <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and <PERSON>, _Reagan's Path to Victory: The Shaping of Ronald Reagan's Vision: Selected Writings_ (Free Press, 2004), 24.
. _The Rush
|
77136d2b-4d60-da1f-410c-1409b1036ff0
|
['f04ad258-378c-8e25-f051-91f6adcc6e28']
|
or he was simply lying. Since it was passed in March 2010, Republican politicians and conservative groups have been fighting to repeal the Affordable Care Act (with occasional support from Democrats opposed to specific provisions). When proposing alternatives to Obamacare, they typically assume that the health-care and health-insurance markets will behave according to the Economics 101 model. According to Heritage's experts, "When individual consumers decide how the money is spent, either directly for medical care or indirectly through their health insurance choices, the incentives will be aligned throughout the system to generate better value—in other words, to produce more for less." Their evidence for this claim is simply that this is how markets are supposed to behave: "In normal markets, consumers drive the system through their choices of products and services....In response, the providers of goods and services compete to meet consumer demands and preferences by supplying products that offer consumers better value in terms of price, quality, and features." Researchers from the Hoover Institution and the American Enterprise Institute claim that, instead of Obamacare, "what's needed is a credible plan to reorient federal policy across the board toward markets and the preferences of consumers and patients."
That plan includes not only repealing Obamacare but also rewriting Medicare according to Economics 101 principles. Since 2010, Republicans have been promoting the idea, first introduced by <PERSON>, of converting Medicare into a voucher program: instead of simply being covered by a uniform government plan, seniors would get a voucher that they could use to buy insurance from private companies in a competitive market. "Putting patients in charge of how their health care dollars are spent will force providers to compete against each other on price and quality," the proposal predicted. "That's how markets work: The customer is the ultimate guarantor of value."
The rhetoric of markets has been picked up and amplified by the media. _Wall Street Journal_ op-ed articles, for example, regularly sing the praises of consumer-driven health care. A CEO and a Manhattan Institute researcher wrote,
> As millions of Americans move onto high-deductible plans, they will change their behavior—and the incentives of the market....Providers will have to earn their business on the basis of quality, price and service, the way companies do in the other four-fifths of the U.S. economy. Competition has the potential to transform America's sclerotic, overpriced health-care system into something much more transparent and affordable.
The head of another conservative think tank claimed that, if Medicare were converted into a voucher system, "Insurers would have to compete for beneficiaries' business, and providers would have to compete to get on the most popular plans. Lower prices and better-quality care would be the result."
In the 2016 presidential election, not only did all Republican candidates ritually pledge to repeal Obamacare, but most subscribed to the principles of market forces and consumer choice. <PERSON> promised "modern, consumer-centered reforms that lower costs, embrace innovation in healthcare, and actually increase choices and improve quality of care," including "consumer-centered products like Health Savings Accounts." <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and <PERSON> all signed
|
af14c452-af5a-f170-9489-c877fa60ab90
|
['f051c26d-6b02-98ca-ce8a-88e5d063eb9f']
|
more speculative statements in my story. Some years ago I misplaced <PERSON>'s letter, and this is the most plausible construction for what prompted it that either <PERSON> or I have been able to come up with. I guess I'll just have to save any corrections for the reemergence of the letter.
"something of a recluse these past couple of decades": <PERSON>, "Presley and Phillips Had Nothing to Lose By Being Different," _Memphis Commercial Appeal,_ August 13, 1978.
the tapes were widely believed to have disappeared: The first tape had actually surfaced one or two years earlier and, as it later turned out, there were a number of copies floating around. But the _New York Times_ was certainly not aware of it, nor for that matter was I, and <PERSON>, with his unerring instinct for showmanship, arranged for what amounted to a grand unveiling. There seemed little question that this was the "true gen," though with <PERSON>'s reputation for good-humored scammery (he had recently put out a series of doctored duets of <PERSON> and "<PERSON>," whom he exuberantly encouraged the public to believe might be <PERSON>), that question could always be considered to be in the air.
"I don't run it just because it's on _Billboard_ ": <PERSON>, "If You Ain't Country," _Memphis Commercial Appeal,_ spring 1980. <PERSON> was referring here to the country format he had switched to the previous fall, several months after my visit to Memphis, but it applied just as much to the highly idiosyncratic approach he described to me. As he told <PERSON>, further expanding on the subject, "I am not going to be a follower—I don't care, I'd rather be dead."
the transmitter that had carried the sound of the Grand Ole Opry: This was the original transmitter installed at the WSM transmitter site in Brentwood in 1932. For more detail on its unique construction, check out <PERSON> book on WSM, _Air Castle of the South: WSM and the Making of Music City,_ pp. 52ff.
Within weeks he had bought it: He purchased the transmitter on March 27, 1961, and, after considerable prodding from its owners, moved it sometime that summer.
"Make your move anyway you wish": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, February 24, 1962.
"thinking seriously of changing labels": <PERSON>, "<PERSON> May End Tie-Up with Sun Record Co.," _Memphis Press-Scimitar,_ June 12, 1963.
<PERSON> telegrammed his new record company: This and all subsequent details are from the June 12, 1963, _Memphis Press-Scimitar_ story above and the follow-up story on June 14. The agreement is dated June 14.
"Dr. King certainly knew of music's power": <PERSON>'s writings, Notes for a Tribute album to Dr. <PERSON>. I don't know if the notes were ever finished, or used. In _Spinning Blues into Gold: The Chess Brothers and the Legendary Chess Records,_ p. 287, <PERSON> writes about a memorial record, with proceeds earmarked to SCLC, and names a number of record companies involved, though Sun is not mentioned.
$25,000 upfront: _Billboard,_ October 5, 1963, has him getting a $10,000-a-year guarantee
|
33c14521-62b1-2fbd-cbb0-d2207cc1f400
|
['f051c26d-6b02-98ca-ce8a-88e5d063eb9f']
|
about five thousand, and it was selling in Kingsport and the tri-cities area. And <PERSON> and I kept sending him reports."
ON SEPTEMBER 8 the _Memphis Press-Scimitar_ announced "Fun on a Grand Scale" at the opening of the new Lamar-Airways Shopping Center. The festivities over the next few days would include Indian ceremonies, "Scottish, hillbilly and Indian music groups, radio, television and recording personalities," a twenty-eight-foot "robot" Indian, lavish prizes, and the presence of "a number of celebrities... including Mayor <PERSON>." Also included was the "newest Memphis hit in the recording business... <PERSON> of 'That's All Right, Mama' and 'Blue Moon of Kentucky' fame," who would be appearing along with <PERSON> Eagle's Nest band on a flatbed truck in front of Katz Drug Store on opening night, Thursday, between 9:00 and 10:00. "Blue Moon of Kentucky" was number one on the Memphis c&w chart at this point, with "That's All Right" showing up at number seven.
The parking lot was jammed when <PERSON> arrived with <PERSON>, and <PERSON>, who was back at Memphis State for the fall semester, was broadcasting from inside the giant wooden Indian. <PERSON> and <PERSON> were already present, and Sleepy Eye was all set up onstage, but the crowd seemed restive. It was made up almost exclusively of teenagers—there were lots of them, more than could ever have fit into the Eagle's Nest—and if they didn't equal the size of the Overton Park audience, this time it was obvious who they were there for.
<PERSON> emerged from the Indian to come up and introduce the band, and <PERSON> lit up to see his old <PERSON> classmate, the president of the senior class and editor of the yearbook, especially when <PERSON> said he had been playing the record over the air in Osceola all summer. They caught up with each other very briefly—<PERSON> hadn't seen <PERSON> to talk to since graduation, fifteen months before—but it was perfectly evident how their situations had changed. They spoke of friends in common, and then it was time to go onstage. <PERSON> gave them the big buildup, he mentioned that he had gone to school with this rising young star, he conveyed a sense of significance and respect in his trained announcer's voice that Sleepy Eye would never have suggested, but there was no preparation for the sound that greeted them, for the whoosh of anticipation, the screams, and the mass intake of breath as <PERSON> bounded to the microphone. <PERSON> hadn't really seen him perform since Overton Park—and here they were not far from the Rainbow skating rink, where she had first met her "secret love."
<PERSON> knew that day. "This was the first we could see what was happening. 'Cause it was a whole parking lot full of kids, and they just went crazy." They liked <PERSON>'s clowning, and <PERSON>' gyrations had advanced way beyond Overton even at this point, but it was the beat that really got to them, and it was the kids' response that drove the music to another level. It was
|
c87bcfe9-f8af-fedf-c72d-1cdb9edfa69d
|
['f0877ea6-eebb-16a2-8f36-7f5d95222981']
|
by disinterested third parties. Moreover, these assessments were always done under strict nondisclosure agreements, where researchers essentially had to sign away their first-born child if any details got out of what exploits were found.
Based on my experience in 2004, 2008, and 2016, it should not have been surprising to me that there were no public assessments done of the voting technology; however, I was still amazed.
<PERSON> was also amazed they hadn't hacked voting machines at DEF CON before. He checked and said speakers at the conference first raised concerns about security of voting machines more than a decade ago. They had hacked into about everything else at this point: medical equipment like pacemakers, several cars, all manner of social media sites, and almost every type of software you use on your phone or computer. They even had a section one year on hacking adult toys. Voting machines may have been the only thing they hadn't hacked.
Next we decided the hackers at the conference, the media attending the conference, and the policymakers I wanted to influence later, needed context about why any of this mattered. There was still a strong push by the election administration community to make response to the 2016 attacks a bureaucratic voting administration issue instead of the national security issue it clearly was. So our first step was to lock in several keynote speakers for DEF CON who hailed from the national security world. We also wanted to ensure we had an understanding from DHS and other agencies about what we were doing. So I began privately briefing key cyber experts at DHS about our plans in advance of DEF CON.
I also started to reach out to several election administrators and the EAC about what we were planning. I repeatedly made the point that we had no interest in making any election administrators look bad in this exercise. I made the point that the hacker community was the last group that would blame the election administrators for Russian hackers getting into their systems. My common refrain was that we weren't attacking the election administrators or vendors, or anyone else for that matter. We were attacking the _idea_ of unhackability with respect to elections.
I was pleasantly surprised when many of the election administrators began saying they were cautiously optimistic about what we were doing. Some even said they were happy we were doing it because the voting machine vendors had been telling them for years their machines were "unhackable." The officials said they never believed it but didn't have a way to disprove them. Others told us they planned to send their staff to DEF CON to learn what the hackers found. So they could better understand vulnerabilities, which was music to my ears. It seemed like maybe we were seeing a sea change in election officials' attitudes toward voting security, or maybe this was the silent majority who weren't proclaiming to the press and Capitol Hill how secure our elections are.
The then head of the EAC, <PERSON>, even suggested we disseminate the
|
21b1cc3f-8c1b-f00e-9a6c-1c8f97d9b087
|
['f0877ea6-eebb-16a2-8f36-7f5d95222981']
|
say hello.
<PERSON> had just executed what we later realized was a typical <PERSON> tactic of yanking positive media attention away from his opponent by saying something so outlandish it compels the press to cover <PERSON> instead of his opponent. In this case he had just made the aforementioned comment that, "If Russia finds <PERSON>'s deleted e-mails, they will be rewarded greatly." He later clarified that he actually said at different points in his speech that Russia would be rewarded greatly by "our media," not his campaign or his administration. The fact that one American presidential candidate would ask a foreign power to hack another presidential candidate had the desired effect of working the media up into a lather and taking their focus off the DNC Convention. It seemed only <PERSON> understood that the media discussing whether he had crossed the line of committing treason didn't matter. It only mattered that they were talking about <PERSON> and not <PERSON>.
I said, "This Russian hacking stuff is crazy isn't it?" as the clip of <PERSON>'s speech played in an almost continuous loop on CNN a few feet from our table.
<PERSON> said something along the lines of: Yeah it's nuts. When the convention is over, send me an e-mail and I will hook you up with our folks dealing with this. Maybe you and your guys can be helpful to them.
As stated above, our fund-raiser at Black Hat was a week after the Democratic National Convention, and before I could take <PERSON> up on his offer, I had to get back to D.C. to get some work done with my clients. I had been ignoring my day job for almost a month between DNC Convention and Black Hat so I needed to get some real work done.
While back in D.C., I had two meetings I immediately should have realized foretold disaster. In one meeting, I spoke to a senior official of the analysis division at DHS who was working on an assessment of voting infrastructure risks for DHS and ultimately the White House. He and I met for breakfast at a diner in Arlington, Virginia, where many of the national security elite meet to evade the prying eyes of reporters or partisans who seem to be lurking around every corner in the District.
We were both seeking information from the other about the election and our security leading up to November. I was there to find out if they were considering every aspect of the election the Russians could "hack." I wanted to make sure they realized that accessing the machines and vote tabulators and changing vote tallies was just one of many ways Russia could influence the outcome of the election.
Similarly, he wanted to pick my brain about whether his team was missing anything in its assessment. He mentioned that the political appointees that were left at DHS had little to no campaign experience. Most of the staff from the campaign in 2008, like me, had left the administration years ago. So the political appointees knew little more than
|
041e0b34-f1f1-5213-46ac-60c3baeb660a
|
['f0a9bc3c-c8a5-9276-234d-46a464b8cbe0']
|
called "mike.txt" with our hidden message (see Figure 2.19).
Figure 2.19 Hidden Message File
Next we create an archive called mike.rar archive with mike.txt within it. This involves downloading and installing WinRAR for your platform (Windows, Linux, Mac OS X, etc.) from the website at www.rarlab.com. When you start up WinRAR select Add to add our hidden message file (mike.txt) to create a new archive (see Figure 2.20).
Figure 2.20 Run WinRAR and Click Add
Under the Files tab, and in the "Files to add" dialog box select our mike.txt file with the hidden message. And then select OK to create our mike.rar archive (see Figures 2.21 and 2.22).
Figure 2.21 Add mike.txt to Archive and Click OK
Figure 2.22 mike.rar Archive Created
Next we hide the archive in a JPEG file. In this example, we choose an innocuous JPEG file "Class.JPG" as our carrier. Using the copy command in DOS, we add the /b option to treat the file as a binary file. Additionally we use the "+" symbol to combine two files. In this case we're combining our carrier file "Class.JPG" with the archive file we want to hide "mike.rar," and specify an output file "newimage.JPG."
c:\sandbox>copy /b class.jpg + mike.rar newimage.jpg
class.JPG
mike.rar
1 file(s) copied.
This technique allows you to actually append the WinRAR archive to the JPEG, beyond the EOF (End of File) marker. This approach allows the JPEG to appear normally in a viewer, as the viewer will normally ignore data beyond the EOF marker, make this a nice place to hide data.
C:\sandbox>dir
Directory of C:\sandbox
04/27/2012 11:43 AM <DIR> .
04/27/2012 11:43 AM <DIR> ..
03/10/2012 10:59 AM 4,940,676 class.JPG
03/21/2012 01:48 PM 89 mike.rar
03/21/2012 01:48 PM 17 mike.txt
03/21/2012 01:50 PM 4,940,765 newimage.jpg
We now have our hidden message, compressed in WinRAR, and hidden within a JPEG image. At this point it could be transmitted to our recipient. Next, let's review how the recipient can now extract and reveal the hidden message.
Upon receipt, the recipient takes the JPEG and renames it with a ∗.RAR extension as follows:
c:\sandbox>copy newimage.jpg newimage.rar
1 file(s) copied.
c:\sandbox>dir
Directory of C:\sandbox
04/27/2012 11:43 AM <DIR> .
04/27/2012 11:43 AM <DIR> ..
03/21/2012 01:50 PM 4,940,765 newimage.jpg
03/21/2012 01:50 PM 4,940,765 newimage.rar
WinRAR provides a Repair feature for repairing damaged archives. It can also be used to extract the hidden message. Within WinRAR we select "Repair Damaged Archive" and choose the newly created ∗.RAR file. WinRAR will detect that the JPEG carrier file has a RAR archive within it. Repair will repair the damaged archive and will extract the RAR archive from the JPEG (see Figure 2.23).
Figure 2.23 WinRAR Repairing the Archive
This will create a "rebuilt" RAR file and also alerts us that it contains a "mike.txt" within the rebuilt archive. This creates a file called "rebuilt.newimage.rar" (see Figure 2.24).
Figure 2.24 Rebuilt File _rebuilt.newimage.rar_
Using the "Extract To" option, the recipient can now extract the mike.txt file from the rebuilt WinRAR archive _rebuilt.newimage.rar_ , thus allowing the recipient to reveal the hidden message
|
d56c0ae5-e5b9-68e0-4ba5-cb479e5112ed
|
['f0a9bc3c-c8a5-9276-234d-46a464b8cbe0']
|
written to /home/spihuntr/sandbox/inode-12-ASCII_text
Select an inode listed above or press enter to go back: 13
27 bytes written to /home/spihuntr/sandbox/inode-13-data
Select an inode listed above or press enter to go back:
user name | 1 <12 h | 2 <48 h | 3 <7 d | 4 <30 d | 5 <1 y | 6 older
\-------------+---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+--------
spihuntr | 2 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0
Select user name from table or press enter to exit:
spihuntr@spihuntrubuntu:∼$
Our files should now be saved in our destination directory. By changing to the destination directory, we can see our saved inodes as files. Since the filename is lost when the file is deleted, the recovery automatically assigns a filename to the recovered file.
spihuntr@spihuntrubuntu:∼/sandbox$ ls -al
total 32
drwxr-xr-x 2 spihuntr spihuntr 4096 2012-05-30 22:21 .
drwxr-xr-x 2 spihuntr spihuntr 4096 2012-05-30 22:23 ..
-rwxr-xr-x 1 root root 15 2012-05-31 14:33 inode-12-ASCII_text
-rwxr-xr-x 1 root root 27 2012-05-31 14:33 inode-13-data
Now is the moment of truth. We originally hid our files in our extended filesystem by deleting them. Then we used "e2undel" to recover the files. If we review the contents of the file, we can see it contains the data from the original file.
spihuntr@spihuntrubuntu:∼/sandbox$ more inode-12-ASCII_text
hidden message
spihuntr@spihuntrubuntu:∼/sandbox$
Our tactic was a success! These techniques are not limited to just ext2 extended filesystem. "debugfs" for example can be used to recover files in ext3 and ext4 filesystems as well. In addition, although we performed this on a Ubuntu distribution, this technique would work on Mac OS, Red Hat, Android, and other distributions that use extended filesystems. But it should be noted that the technique is not completely foolproof. Very active extended filesystems will overwrite their deleted files far more often, this minimizing life of the deleted file before it's overwritten. But for a personal laptop, with a spare partition, or for hiding data on a thumb drive this technique is very useful and every effective.
### TrueCrypt
Per the TrueCrypt10 website "TrueCrypt is a software system for establishing and maintaining an on-the-fly-encrypted volume (data storage device). On-the-fly encryption means that data is automatically encrypted right before it is saved and decrypted right after it is loaded, without any user intervention. No data stored on an encrypted volume can be read (decrypted) without using the correct password/keyfile(s) or correct encryption keys. Entire file system is encrypted (e.g. file names, folder names, contents of every file, free space, meta data, etc.)."
TrueCrypt also provides the means to create a "hidden" volume. To some, this provides "plausible deniability" when confronted by an adversary. Plausible deniability is a situation in which there is "little or no evidence of wrongdoing or abuse." In legal terms, "it refers to the lack of evidence proving an allegation." Providing a way to hide volumes allows users to arguably employ plausible deniability of confronted by an adversary to reveal suspected evidence. TrueCrypt's design does not contain known file headers and the data when analyzed appears as pure random data.
A real-life case involved TrueCrypt and
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['f122646e-52d6-aa23-f270-91fb2b196df8']
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313, 346, 352, 406, and 464–467), and <PERSON> 1964. There is a collection of fragments of <PERSON> in Supplementband 1 (1974) of <PERSON> _Die Schule des Aristoteles_ , which was in 1999 superseded by the thorough edition of <PERSON>.
1. The _Life of Aristotle_ by <PERSON> (5.1–35) is published in the general editions of <PERSON>, among which we should mention <PERSON> 1850, <PERSON> 1964, and most recently <PERSON> 1999, but it should be examined especially in light of the particular editions of the _Life_ , of which the <PERSON> 1791 and <PERSON> 1879 editions have only historical value, while the most authoritative editions are in Düring 1957 (pp. 29–56), and <PERSON> 1987 ( _testimonium_ 1); see also <PERSON> 1905, <PERSON> 1949, <PERSON> 1951, Moraux 1951a, <PERSON> 1955, <PERSON> 1958, <PERSON> 1962 (introduction), and <PERSON> 1965a. An overall examination of the scholarship and the problems created by this text is found in <PERSON> 1986, where we find his concise judgment on the worth of this biography: "in <PERSON> the best is right next to the worst," in which "the best" is constituted by the chronology of the life of <PERSON> (taken from <PERSON>) and by many ancient and authentic documents (such as <PERSON>'s will) and by the ancient lists of his works, and "the worst" consists of the fanciful details of which the work is full. An important characteristic of this biography is the effort it makes to be impartial; anecdotes that tend to show <PERSON> in a good light and negative anecdotes are both reported with the same credence. The problem lies in the fact that they are in large part quite unreliable.
2. A brief _Life of Aristotle_ , with a long list of his works, published for the first time in 1663 by <PERSON>, and therefore called the _Vita Menagiana_ or _Anonymus Menagii_ , but later attributed to <PERSON> of <PERSON> (sixth century CE; see <PERSON> 1913), was then published in Buhle 1791, <PERSON> 1845, and <PERSON> 1882. Part of it is in the _Suda_ (3929 Adler); there are editions also in <PERSON> 1886 (pp. 9–18), Düring 1957 (pp. 82–89), and <PERSON> 1987 ( _testimonium_ 2). According to <PERSON> this is a brief biography whose sources are as yet unknown, while <PERSON> (1973) claims that it derives from <PERSON> and the Neoplatonists, concerning whom see below. There is also a brief life falsely ascribed to <PERSON>, concerning which see <PERSON> 1957, pp. 92–93.
3. The other biographies of <PERSON> depend entirely or in part on the biography written by a certain <PERSON>, whom the Arabs called <PERSON><PERSON>viz., "the unknown," or "the stranger"); this was long believed lost in every language, until allegedly found again by Professor <PERSON>, who claims that the "Treatise of Ptolemy containing his testimony about <PERSON>, a catalogue of his writings, and part of his biography, dedicated to <PERSON>," contained in an Istanbul codex Aya Sofya 4833 (folios 10a–18a), is the original treatise of <PERSON> (see Düring 1971, Plezia 1975, and Plezia 1985). On the other hand, Düring
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['f122646e-52d6-aa23-f270-91fb2b196df8']
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invention by <PERSON> (1897, 1:21n6).
At this point I should perhaps draw some conclusions from this discussion of relations between <PERSON> and Macedonia. It seems that we are faced with two sets of discordant facts, which lead to differing conclusions. On the one hand, there is a whole series of historical data suggesting fairly close relationships on the part of <PERSON> and his family with Macedonian notables; to begin with, the presence of <PERSON> in Macedonia as <PERSON>'s tutor is reliably documented, and <PERSON> probably had a relationship with <PERSON>, and it seems that <PERSON> was, for a time, one of those numerous well-known and intelligent Greeks who, according to <PERSON> ( _<PERSON>_ 19), lived in Macedonia and had relationships with the king; again, <PERSON>'s nephew <PERSON> accompanied <PERSON> to Asia, though with unfortunate results; <PERSON> was later accused by the Athenian democrats, as we have seen, of being a friend to Macedonia; finally, certain pupils of the school, such as <PERSON> of Phalerum, were dependent on the power of the Macedonians. Even <PERSON>, who had a close relationship with <PERSON>, is described by <PERSON> as an " **agent and accomplice of <PERSON>**." Even though it is possible to argue over each individual fact, the accumulation of elements is fairly impressive.
On the other hand, there is the undeniable fact that, in <PERSON>'s treatises, even in _Politics_ , the political power of Macedonia in <PERSON>'s time remains completely invisible, and the few references to Macedonia found in the work are either cold or almost hostile. <PERSON>, in contrast with <PERSON>, refrains from even mentioning any specific events from <PERSON>'s expeditions. This total silence is broken, of course, by the indirect reports on the works that <PERSON> is said to have dedicated to the Macedonian monarchs, which we have discussed above; but this does not take away from the fact that in the treatises that survive, that is, in the most well-researched theoretical works, <PERSON> maintains an attitude of complete detachment. It would be difficult to characterize the _Politics_ or the _Constitution of Athens_ as texts compiled in order to defend and sustain the political influence of Macedonia in Athens, like the _Philip_ of <PERSON>, for these were works connected with teaching in <PERSON>'s school, directed to pupils among whom must have been many Athenian citizens. This is a case, therefore, in which biographical information can have a negative influence on the study of a work; to interpret the _Politics_ as <PERSON> does (1937–1938), as an explicit defense of hereditary monarchy in general and an implicit defense of the Macedonian monarchy in particular, and to see the ethical ideal of the theoretical life as nothing more than a prop for monarchic government, is to close off the path to a correct interpretation of both the value and the meaning of these fundamental works in the history of thought.
7. THE ADVENTURE OF CALLISTHENES
<PERSON> of <PERSON>, <PERSON>'s nephew or cousin, was famous throughout history for the episode in which he took part in <PERSON>'s campaign against Persia, as well as for being put
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(92).
70. Ibid., 210. "Within the next five years," he wrote, "one of the largest areas of growth in consumer products is likely to be such wearable devices."
71. Ibid., 217.
72. Ibid., 94.
73. See <PERSON> and <PERSON>, "Now, Flexible Screens: Samsung, LG Work Toward Bendable Smartphones," Wall Street Journal, November 5, 2013.
74. <PERSON>, Being Digital, 152.
75. Ibid., 173. See also <PERSON> and <PERSON>, "Bye-Bye for Blockbuster," Wall Street Journal, November 7, 2013. The article reported the expected closing of most remaining Blockbuster video-rental stores.
76. <PERSON>, Being Digital, 84–85.
77. <PERSON>, "Ready, Fire, Aim," Editor & Publisher, February 4, 1995, 20TC–21TC.
78. The term "innovation blindness" has been in circulation since at least 2009. See, for example, <PERSON>, "Innovation Yin and Yang," Maximum Entropy (blog), August 20, 2009, accessed February 8, 2014, www.bretswanson.com/index.php/2009/08/innovation-yin-and-yang/.
79. Quoted in <PERSON>, "'Print Person' Pontificates," Editor & Publisher, February 11, 1995, 11. The Editor & Publisher article noted that <PERSON>'s "views on electronic news transmission follow the widely held opinion of newspaper people that the Internet will never supplant their time-tested medium."
80. See Times Mirror Center for the People & the Press, "Technology in the American Household."
81. See Pew Research Center for the People & the Press, "In Changing News Landscape, Even Television Is Vulnerable" (Washington, D.C.: PRCPP, September 27, 2012), 14.
82. See <PERSON>, "Big Newspaper to Help Locals on the Internet," New York Times, April 20, 1995. A ninth newspaper company joined soon after the launch.
83. <PERSON>, "New Service Skims 150 Newspapers for Its Users," New York Times, June 30, 1997.
84. See <PERSON>, "New-Media Meltdown at New Century," Business Week, March 12, 1998, accessed October 10, 2013, www.businessweek.com/1998/12/b3570103.htm.
85. Business Week magazine offered a telling epithet for the failed venture, describing New Century as embodying "everything that could go wrong when old-line newspapers converge with new media." <PERSON>, "New-Media Meltdown at New Century."
86. See, for example, Arthur Charity, Doing Public Journalism (New York: Guilford Press, 1995).
87. See, for example, <PERSON>, "Are You Now, Or Will You Ever Be, a Civic Journalist?" Columbia Journalism Review, September/October 1995, 28.
88. See <PERSON>, "Business News," Associated Press, August 22, 1995, retrieved from LexisNexis database. The network also agreed to pay legal fees that the companies incurred during the dispute.
89. See "Apology Accepted" (advertisement), New York Times, August 25, 1995.
90. See, for example, <PERSON>, "Settling Smoke May Carry News Chill," Variety, August 28–September 3, 1995, 34.
91. See <PERSON>, "CBS, 60 Minutes, and the Unseen Interview," Columbia Journalism Review, January/February 1996, 44. See also <PERSON>, "Exploring How an Expose Went Awry," Philadelphia Inquirer, October 31, 1999.
92. Quoted in <PERSON>, "'60 Minutes' Kills Piece on Tobacco Industry," Washington Post, November 10, 1995.
93. See <PERSON>, "What '60 Minutes' Cut," New York Daily News, November 17, 1995. The Daily News published portions of the transcript of the 60 Minutes interview in which <PERSON> also accused Brown & Williamson
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other measures such as voting for a black president and an increasing belief in progress and equality for blacks in the U.S. more generally."
Moreover, Gallup reported in 2013 that 72 percent of white Americans felt relations between blacks and whites were "very good" or "somewhat good," sentiments shared by 66 percent of blacks. About 30 percent of all Americans said racial relations were "somewhat bad" or "very bad." Black and white Americans differed sharply, however, in perceptions about the country's criminal justice system. Twenty-five percent of white respondents and 68 percent of black respondents said in 2013 they believed the justice system was "biased against black people." Those perceptions were strikingly little changed from twenty years before. In 1993, 33 percent of white respondents and 68 percent of black respondents told Gallup they believed the justice system was "biased against black people." Such clashing perceptions about equality of justice in America provide a revealing framework for interpreting and understanding the disparate reactions to the <PERSON> verdicts in 1995.
Even so, the anomalous character of the <PERSON> trial made it a weak case from which to generalize about a topic as thorny, complex, and multidimensional as race relations in the United States. A single, uncharacteristic case that centered around a single, wealthy defendant who before his trial was little invested in issues and controversies of race simply could not have transmitted a widely applicable message about the state of race relations in America. And to argue that the <PERSON> case did offer a singularly revealing assessment about race in America in the mid-1990s is to ignore other dynamics of the time—in particular, the popular appeal of <PERSON>, the black former chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and a hero of the 1990–91 Gulf War with Iraq. In 1995, <PERSON> emerged as a strong prospective Republican candidate for president.
FIGURE 16. Views of interracial marriage. Americans' approval of marriages between blacks and whites has climbed steadily since the mid-1990s and now approaches 90 percent. Only 48 percent of respondents said they approved in 1994. (Source: Gallup Organization)
<PERSON> was described as the "most popular American of any color." There was much talk at the time about "<PERSON>-mania," and news reports said popular esteem for the general had reached papal-like dimensions. He was characterized as "America's unsullied presidential candidate, a natural healer in a divisive era, a blank slate on which Americans can write their dreams."
<PERSON>'s popularity was buoyed by a nationwide tour to promote his memoir, My American Journey, which came out in September 1995 to mostly admiring reviews. The memoir debuted atop the New York Times best-seller list on October 1, 1995, just as the <PERSON> trial was reaching its denouement. <PERSON>'s tour was closely scripted but still attracted large and diverse crowds of admirers—"black and white, old and young, affluent and unemployed," the Times reported. Some of <PERSON>'s well-wishers waited hours in long lines for a chance to say a few words to the general and have him sign a copy of his book.
The clashing narratives presented
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is similar to that of cacti with most being discovered and described in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The task of producing a comprehensive book about succulents fell to <PERSON>, curator of Kiel Botanic Gardens in Germany, and author of _Handbuch der Sukkulenten Pflanzen_ published in 1954, followed in 1960 by the _Handbook of Succulent Plants_ , an English-language edition. A lexicon appeared some years later, first in German then in English translation. This summarized and updated the contents of the _Handbook_ , and remains a useful publication today. Published in 2001-3, the six volumes of _The Illustrated Handbook of Succulent Plants_ are a comprehensive and up-to-date treatment covering 9,000 taxa, the only problem being the high cost.
**History**
Succulents from southern Africa first came to Europe at the beginning of the seventeenth century following the colonization of the region. During the eighteenth century, explorations of the interior yielded a steady stream of new discoveries that reached a peak around the end of the century when large numbers of mesembryanthemums were introduced. The names of the explorers will be familiar to succulent enthusiasts because of the plants they found and those named after them. <PERSON>, working for Kew Gardens, introduced the most living plants of any collector. He wrote and beautifully illustrated _Stapeliae Novae._ <PERSON> spent four years travelling in South Africa during which time he amassed 50,000 botanical specimens. The first reference to lithops may be found in his book _Travels in the interior of Southern Africa_
Cacti were probably first brought back to Europe from the New World at the beginning of the sixteenth century and they gradually started to appear in accounts and illustrations. They caused much interest because of their peculiar appearance, but unfortunately these early specimens came from the West Indies and were much more difficult to cultivate than those that would be found later. It was not until the end of the seventeenth century that there were enough known species to start to differentiate genera, the first four being cereus, opuntia, pereskia and melocactus. In the middle of the eighteenth century, <PERSON> introduced the idea of plant binomials and applied them to the twenty-two species of cacti he recognized. From the early nineteenth century onwards the number of species in cultivation increased rapidly. This was partly because of the explorations of plant hunters, often working for the European botanical gardens, and also as a result of the development of proper glasshouses.
If the historical aspects of succulents fascinate you, a wonderful and well-illustrated book entitled _A History of Succulents_ by <PERSON> provides a comprehensive and entertaining account of all aspects of the subject
**Uses**
Although the indigenous populations of the natural habitats of cacti and succulents have found many uses for them, there have not been any applications that could be said to make them economically important. There were attempts to use the sap of euphorbia to make rubber and the manufacture of sisal rope from agave leaves is quite a big business, but none of the diverse uses of succulents
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look very good against the spines, but it does have a tendency to become rather columnar in a glasshouse, so the sunniest location should be found for this plant. Propagation is always by seed raising since it does not grow offsets unless damaged. It is found naturally in a small area of Nuevo León in Mexico.
Similar species: _T. conothelos_
Thelocactus macdowellii, _a Mexican species, is covered with white spines._
**Uebelmannia**
In 1966 the cactus hobby was shaken by the arrival in Europe of a few plants of a new species from South America that looked nothing like any known plant. It had been discovered by <PERSON> on rock patches in the forest near Diamentina in Minas Gerais, Brazil and imported by <PERSON>, a Swiss nurseryman. The following year, the Dutch explorer <PERSON> created the new genus uebelmannia into which he placed this plant giving it the name _U. pectinifera._ He also included a plant long known as _Parodia gummifera_ that grew in the same area of Brazil but in white quartzite sand. More uebelmannias have subsequently been discovered, all related to one or other of the original species.
Since they became available, these plants have remained highly prized by collectors but they are not beginners' plants. It took some time to ascertain their cultural requirements and even today they remain a challenge to grow well. The key is temperature, at least 15°C (59°F) in winter when they should occasionally be lightly watered. The soil needs to be very open and acidic, so extra grit should be added to the standard mix.
Grafting is often employed for the propagation and culture of uebelmannias but so long as adequate temperatures can be maintained, the relatives of _U. pectinifera_ grow well on their own roots. The flowers of this group are very small, yellowish and appear early in the year, those of the _U. gummifera_ group are larger and a brighter yellow. This latter group is more difficult to cultivate and few growers succeed in keeping plants on their own roots for long.
The only book dedicated to these plants is the well-illustrated _Uebelmannia and Their Environment_ by <PERSON> and <PERSON>.
UEBELMANNIA PECTINIFERA
This remarkable plant remains solitary and when fully grown can reach over 30cm (12in) in height but such large specimens are rarely seen in cultivation. Its unique appearance and difficulty of cultivation make it very popular with collectors, but most specimens are grafted in order to make cultivation more straightforward. It must be grown from seed, which is not difficult so long as adequate temperature and moisture are provided. The seedlings are often grafted on to pereskiopsis or hylocereus stock when only a few days old. The young plant has a dark purple body that is retained for many years. In habitat, the environmental conditions cause the dark colour to be overlaid by a silverywhite coating of wax that is only present to a lesser degree on older plants in cultivation. The ribs are an almost continuous line of woolly areoles from which the pectinate black
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<PERSON> was shouting, "<PERSON>, hurry up and open the door! Open the door!"
"What the fuck?" said <PERSON>, scooting away from them. "Ishi-kun, they're women! Oba-sans!"
As he tried to scramble over the seat to join <PERSON> in the rear of the van, shards of glass rained from his clothing. A gloved hand reached through the window and lifted the lock button, and Suzuki <PERSON> wrenched the door open and climbed aboard, awkwardly thrusting at <PERSON> with her <PERSON> knife—a lagniappe <PERSON> had thrown in with the rocket launcher. It was an unstudied move, but the weight of her body was behind it as she clambered aboard, and the tip of the blade was just at the right elevation to sink into the flesh of <PERSON>'s cheek and slice through his gums, stopping only when it came into contact with the teeth on the other side. <PERSON> looked for a moment as if he didn't understand what had just happened, then tried to scream but found that the hardware inhibited his ability to produce any sounds. The other three Midoris screamed in his stead when they saw Suzuki Midori's blade buried in the enemy's cheek. It was this close-up view of a knife lodged in a face that finally drained the frenzy out of them. <PERSON> felt something hot drip down the inside of her thigh and wondered if her period had begun unexpectedly, but of course it was only urine.
Tears had immediately formed in <PERSON>'s eyes and were now streaming down his face. "It hurth!" he said, but moving his mouth made the blade twist and only intensified the pain. <PERSON> stood frozen for some moments after stabbing him. She felt as if she'd turned to stone, and her mind was still a complete blank—a state she'd never experienced before. The hand gripping the knife handle was trembling; so, in fact, was her entire arm. Time seemed to have come to a standstill, and no one knew what to do next, until <PERSON> shuffled forward, reached out, and lifted the ski mask covering her face. She let out a startled, "Kyaah!"
"You're right, it really is a woman," <PERSON> said, and then, as if to release all his tension and fear, he began laughing the most powerful, eldritch, and supernatural laugh he'd ever produced. It was like an exorcistic incantation recorded and played back at high speed and earsplitting volume, and it vibrated in one's brain and burrowed into one's stomach and seemed capable of causing the air and all living beings along the entire seacoast to freeze solid and then quickly decompose. In the short intervals between bursts of laughter, <PERSON> tossed out words whose meaning wasn't clear—woman, Oba-san, pig, hullabaloo, jerk-off, sex, I love you, and so forth—and <PERSON>, suddenly seized with unspeakable fear, began puking. Trying to cover her mouth, she let go of the knife, which then fell out of <PERSON>'s cheek and clattered heavily to the floor. The other Midoris rushed to support the sagging and still-regurgitating <PERSON> and began their retreat,
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to the Bone" started up, with its vulgar tenor sax, Suzuki Midori unlocked the safety and pushed the trigger.
Six fins sprang out from the rear of the sixty-six-millimeter HEAT rocket as it departed, and you could clearly see the warhead spinning as it zoomed toward the tetrapod. The backblast illuminated the air behind the Midoris with a brilliant ashen glow. Hearing the strange but deeply resonant pa-SHOOP sound and noticing the burst of light, the three dirtbags stopped singing and turned to look. In the next instant the warhead contacted the tetrapod and exploded with a deafening blast and an enormous ball of orange fire.
What the hell is that? <PERSON> wondered as the spinning warhead traced a smoking arc toward them. He was thinking it looked like a rocket ship in some old movie with crappy special effects, when he found himself enveloped in blinding light and earsplitting sound. He was slammed to the rocky beach like a wet rag doll. <PERSON> was looking up at the video camera <PERSON> had left on the tetrapod when the explosion blew it to bits, and he opened his mouth to say Whoa! but of course had no time to do so. The rayon of his kimono burst into crackling flames, along with the sequins, as he lifted some two meters off the ground. <PERSON>'s first thought was that <PERSON> and <PERSON> had prepared a special fireworks display. It was typical of <PERSON> to overdo it like this, he thought, and he was about to start laughing when a fist-sized chunk of concrete from the tetrapod came along at a hundred meters per second and shaved off his lower jaw—flesh, bones, teeth, and all—even as he too began an ascent that would peak at an impressive three meters. The end result was a trio of disarticulated bodies that looked as if sharks had been snacking on them, with jagged chunks ripped from their arms and stomachs and necks—to say nothing of the fragments of tetrapod embedded in various parts of their flesh. In the twinkling of an eye their bodies had come to resemble bloody rags—rather like the discarded panties they'd once found on this very beach. All three of them were dead, of course.
At the moment of the explosion, <PERSON> had been stepping out of the HiAce to return to the beach and <PERSON> had been in the rear, fiddling with the dials on the mixing console. The blast caused the entire van to shake and teeter, and both of them were knocked off their feet. <PERSON> face-planted on the ground outside, and <PERSON>'s head slammed against a corner of the generator. But the HiAce remained upright and more or less intact, and it had shielded them from the blast and the tetrapod fragments. Blood was gushing from a gash in <PERSON>'s forehead and flowing down his face, however, and this threw him into a panic. In reaction to the intense burst of light and the overpowering noise, his brain was frantically spinning its wheels, and he was about to try
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other, and stepped off.
It is impossible to say all that we think, even to our truest Friend. We may bid him farewell forever sooner than complain, for our complaint is too well grounded to be uttered. There is not so good an understanding between any two, but the exposure by the one of a serious fault in the other will produce a misunderstanding in proportion to its heinousness. The constitutional differences which always exist, and are obstacles to a perfect Friendship, are forever a forbidden theme to the lips of Friends. They advise by their whole behavior. Nothing can reconcile them but love. They are fatally late when they undertake to explain and treat with one another like foes. Who will take an apology for a Friend? They must apologize like dew and frost, which are off again with the sun, and which all men know in their hearts to be beneficent. The necessity itself for explanation,—what explanation will atone for that?
True love does not quarrel for slight reasons, such mistakes as mutual acquaintances can explain away, but, alas, however slight the apparent cause, only for adequate and fatal and everlasting reasons, which can never be set aside. Its quarrel, if there is any, is ever recurring, notwithstanding the beams of affection which invariably come to gild its tears; as the rainbow, however beautiful and unerring a sign, does not promise fair weather forever, but only for a season. I have known two or three persons pretty well, and yet I have never known advice to be of use but in trivial and transient matters. One may know what another does not, but the utmost kindness cannot impart what is requisite to make the advice useful. We must accept or refuse one another as we are. I could tame a hyena more easily than my Friend. He is a material which no tool of mine will work. A naked savage will fell an oak with a firebrand, and wear a hatchet out of a rock by friction, but I cannot hew the smallest chip out of the character of my Friend, either to beautify or deform it.
The lover learns at last that there is no person quite transparent and trustworthy, but every one has a devil in him that is capable of any crime in the long run. Yet, as an Oriental philosopher has said, "Although Friendship between good men is interrupted, their principles remain unaltered. The stalk of the lotus may be broken, and the fibres remain connected."
Ignorance and bungling with love are better than wisdom and skill without. There may be courtesy, there may be even temper, and wit, and talent, and sparkling conversation, there may be good-will even,—and yet the humanest and divinest faculties pine for exercise. Our life without love is like coke and ashes. Men may be pure as alabaster and Parian marble, elegant as a Tuscan villa, sublime as Niagara, and yet if there is no milk mingled with the wine at their entertainments, better is the hospitality of Goths and Vandals.
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eb9e025a-4ff8-c670-5740-92a05f954bf9
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nearly all the fine souls have a flaw which defeats every expectation they excite but I must trust these large frames as of less fragility—than the others. Besides to have awakened a great hope in another, is already some fruit is it not?
—<PERSON> to <PERSON>, September 13, 1841
<PERSON> is a person of extraordinary health and vigor, of unerring perception, and equal expression; and yet he is impracticable, and does not flow through his pen or (in any of our legitimate aqueducts) through his tongue.
—Journal, October 1841
I am sorry that you, and the world after you, do not like my brave <PERSON> any better. I do not like his piece very well, but I admire this perennial threatening attitude, just as we like to go under an overhanging precipice. It is wholly his natural relation and no assumption at all.
—<PERSON> to <PERSON>, July 19, 1842
<PERSON> had been one of the family for the last year, and charmed <PERSON> by the variety of toys,—whistles, boats, popguns,—and all kinds of instruments which he could make and mend; and possessed his love and respect by the gentle firmness with which he always treated him. . . .
<PERSON> well said, in allusion to his large way of speech, that "his questions did not admit of an answer; they were the same which you would ask yourself."
—Journal, January 30, 1842
I have sometimes fancied my friend's wisdom rather corrective than initiative, an excellent element in conversation to counteract the common exaggerations and preserve the sanity, but chiefly valuable so, and not for its adventure and exploration or for its satisfying peace.
—Journal, April 13, 1842
<PERSON> made, last night, the fine remark that, as long as a man stands in his own way, everything seems to be in his way, governments, society, and even the sun and moon and stars, as astrology may testify.
—Journal, October–November 1842
Last night <PERSON> read me verses which pleased, if not by beauty of particular lines, yet by the honest truth, and by the length of flight and strength of wing; for most of our poets are only writers of lines or of epigrams. These of <PERSON>'s at least have rude strength, and we do not come to the bottom of the mine. Their fault is, that the gold does not yet flow pure, but is drossy and crude. The thyme and marjoram are not yet made into honey; the assimilation is imperfect.
—Journal, November 1842
<PERSON> says, "I love <PERSON>, but do not like him." Young men, like <PERSON>, owe us a new world, and they have not acquitted the debt. For the most part, such die young, and so dodge the fulfilment. One of our girls said, that <PERSON> never went through the kitchen without coloring.
—Journal, March–April 1843
And now goes our brave youth into the new house, the new connexion, the new City. I am sure no truer and no purer person lives in wide New York; and he is a bold
|
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shot dead last year getting into his car after a shift at the post office in the Ambassador Hotel. She calls me <PERSON> and asks me who I'm here to see. I hand her my letter from Bernstein Inc. I notice the plastic window is torn and I suddenly feel ashamed I haven't taken better care of it.
<PERSON> tells me I need to make my way to the twenty-fourth floor, then asks if I know where that is. I shake my head. She walks me over to the bank of elevators and waits with me until one comes, our reflections blurred in the pitted steel doors. On the twenty-fourth floor the receptionist's name badge says "Hi! I'm <PERSON>." The skin on her face is sun-damaged, patches of brown pigment clustered under her eyes and down the sides of her mildly retroussé nose. The skin around the patches of pigment is opalescent. She is talking to someone on the telephone and looks at a point somewhere over my shoulder. I stand waiting for a pause in the conversation. She rolls her eyes as she talks and I notice how her mascara has gathered in broken clumps around her lower lashes—she wipes it away with the tip of her little finger. Eventually she pauses, covering the mouth of the receiver with her hand. I give her my letter. She looks at it, trapping the telephone between her ear and her shoulder, then asks me who gave it to me, as if the letter had been stolen from her without her knowing.
It's Tuesday in the second week of the summer vacation. My mother is watching _Jeopardy_. A high school administrator from Irvine and a textbook sales tepresentative from Santa Monica are taking on the reigning champion. He has so far won a total of $24,525. My mother is shaking her head in disbelief. It's sunny outside but the blinds in the living room are down so we can see the television. In a pan simmering on the front burner of the stove a chicken carcass is breaking apart. The fine bleached bones floating to the surface of the broth. We have the front door open and the ventilation fan on in the kitchen. A breeze, that is warm and smells of the fatty chicken flesh, is drifting through the room. The UPS man parks his van up outside the house. Hearing the engine shutting down, I turn from the TV and watch the man in the brown uniform walk across the small, untended garden to our porch. He kicks away the newspapers in their plastic wraps from the path into the long grass. He knocks at the inside of the door frame and says he has a package for Mr. <PERSON>.
My mother flinches at my father's name. I get up from in front of the television. I walk to the door. The man in the brown uniform asks me if I am Mr. <PERSON>. I tell him, somewhat uncertainly, that I am. He hands me a large padded envelope with my name
|
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['f3675b18-b5a9-2702-3ed9-2f5f2f224f7b']
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birds from inside the factory. <PERSON> ducked back as they flew out, squatting and shielding his face with his fedora. <PERSON> watched the birds ascend in a tight circle toward the viaduct.
"We kept a coop full of rollers when I was a kid," <PERSON> said as <PERSON> rose to his full height and dusted himself down.
"One day me and my big brother got in a fight over which birds was mine and which was his. Ten years old, I come home and find him slashing their throats with a box cutter. His friends standing around the yard howling and laughing as them birds tried to take off. Blood all over the concrete and these rollers that I'd raised from chicks just flapping, trying real hard to make it up into the air. A few of them got over to the other side of the street. I remember them in the bottom branches of the trees there, dripping blood down onto the sidewalk, then one by one just falling out with a thump." <PERSON> shook his head. When the birds had disappeared from view <PERSON> went back to his sandwich box and took out a Cordahide flashlight.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go get her."
The windows at the back of the factory had been boarded up. The ground floor was stripped of most of its machinery, only a few wooden work benches remained. At the center of the factory floor the beam of the flashlight picked out a trestle table turned on its side. A scrawny pigeon with ragged tail feathers and a glossy boil on one of its pink feet cooed and pecked at the concrete as it strutted in a circle around the table. A row of rotting, mildewed cardboard boxes stamped with Chinese lettering were piled three high the length of the far wall. With the flashlight <PERSON> picked out the remains of toys from the production line that someone had sorted into uneven piles: water-damaged patchwork rag dolls, grimy plastic baby arms, the chassis of tin cars. In the far corner there were signs of a bonfire: a pile of pale ash in a circle of broken bricks. <PERSON> walked over and placed the palm of his hand over the ashes. He rose slowly to his feet and turned the beam of his flashlight in a ninety-degree arc along the ground. The beam froze a few yards from the spent fire on what looked like dried coils of human feces covered with newspaper.
"<PERSON>," <PERSON> said. "These ain't our guys."
He swung his flashlight up to signal that the men should continue their search for <PERSON> on the floors above. As they looked up they saw that from the ceiling someone had strung wires full of babydolls' heads: bald, red lipped, the eyes rolled back into their plastic skulls. The stairs were barricaded by two upturned shopping carts, their frames bent and dented. They looked as if they had been fished out of the river. The carts had been placed on top of each other and
|
2616e50e-c89a-5bf9-7a43-76eadb32846f
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['f49c0986-1c91-736a-fbb7-13f8ad33f957']
|
. I wondered which one would unsettle <PERSON> more?
## TWELVE
It must have been mid-afternoon, for the shadow of the <PERSON>' tree invaded our backyard, forcing me to keep moving my chair every few minutes. <PERSON> tottered out of the house, her fingers set about her mouth in that pensive way that meant her teeth were newly set in and precarious. A soldier was following her and funnily enough I couldn't make out a word he was saying—and no wonder, for he was speaking French. Gesticulating broadly and prissily with cigarette in hand, the way the French do, he looked ludicrous and with reason—God knows why but he had on an American uniform, and, what was more, one twice his size. The cuffs hid his hands, the seams of the armpits came down to his elbows and his trouser bottoms had been rolled up thickly.
My grandmother conversed through ever-pensive fingers set like a goatee, repeating, "You promise to be kind to him? _Vous promettez d'être gentil? Vous promettez?_ " and he, " _Oui, ça va, ça va,_ " the irritation in his voice accumulating. Then she told me I had to go with him, that it was a normal procedure for everyone my age.
The soldier led me to a French base where many French soldiers and officers were going around in American uniforms. From what I learned, the Americans had donated uniforms to the French army, but as there was a difference in size between your average American and your average Frenchman, the French weren't looking too smart for all the American generosity. If that wasn't enough to confuse me, I sat there wondering why the French had given their French uniforms away to all the black people who were present—to me, Moroccans were black. I assumed it was out of decency, because they didn't want them to remain naked, as they had probably found them back in Africa. Only later I learned that Morocco was a French colony and its citizens were thus part of the French army. The Moroccan troops, sent to the front lines, weren't victims of shortages as far as uniforms were concerned. With all those who fell under fire in the front line, one could even consider uniforms a surplus.
I couldn't understand much outside the odd phrases I'd picked up from <PERSON>, who liked to show off her knowledge of French. As I lent my ear to the Moroccans speaking Arabic, I found the intonations harsh and barbaric. To my relief, I wasn't the only Austrian who had been brought in; far from it since a few hundred had been waiting around before me. Frankly it would've been a Babel Tower if not for the Alsatians, who spoke German and French and were there to translate. Still, they weren't numerous and the interrogations, forms—and smokers—unfortunately were.
While there I was given one chapter to read out of an American book. <PERSON> had changed the foreign language to be studied in Austrian schools from French to English, so I could handle a basic level—I
|
bc8ce582-fe1a-0c07-2efa-3a0ef794d56b
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['f49c0986-1c91-736a-fbb7-13f8ad33f957']
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was also trying to get <PERSON> off it. His constant reproach about my shortcomings irked me: my incapability, indecorum, infidelity, all starting with _in_ and ejecting me _out_ of his good opinion. Whenever I came across a picture of him in a magazine, father figure that he was, my insides contracted and I quickly turned the page.
For over a year she and I lived together in the same house in this insane manner, during which time the latent danger made the trust come and go. I went to see her whenever it was possible without anyone knowing, and gradually an awkward affinity grew between us. I asked her about my sister; and I told her about <PERSON>, the survival camps and the way I was injured, but I had to be careful of what I said. Oddly enough, it was harder for me to talk to her than it was for her to talk to me since she censored herself less. I told myself, rightly or wrongly, that this was more because of her loneliness than out of any real trust in me: I was the only one close to her age she had to talk to. Sometimes she looked happy to see me, but there, too, I deemed it was because it was just time to step out of her confinement.
She told me lots about her parents, <PERSON> and <PERSON>, who argued over how to serve oneself butter. <PERSON> cut a thin slice off the side; whereas <PERSON> scraped it off the top. They had two schools of thought about everything, from how socks should be properly folded—flatly in two, or one balled up inside the other—to how prayers should be said—punctually out loud while rocking to and fro as was pleasing to God, or spontaneously to ourselves any time of the day, since God didn't need ears or a fixed appointment to hear. She also told me about her two older brothers, <PERSON> and <PERSON>, who dreamed of emigrating to America to buy and sell secondhand cars, but mostly she told me about her fiancé, <PERSON>.
<PERSON> was brilliant at mathematics; and he could speak four languages: German, English, French and Hebrew. Who, I argued, would consider Hebrew a language? Even if you don't, she answered, that's still three languages, fluently written, read and spoken, which is more than most people, you'd have to agree. I didn't. I wanted to argue that a Jew shouldn't be allowed to speak the German language at all, but I couldn't insult him without insulting her, which proved to be the case on many occasions.
<PERSON> played no sports and spent most of his time reading history, philosophy and mathematical theory. I couldn't believe she was so enthusiastic about such a bore. She could talk about him hours at a time, during which time her dark eyes lit up, her chest expanded and her face dampened. She tossed her thick head of hair about as she sat with her short girlish legs bent to one side, then the
|
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|
when it was touched felt rough to the fingers. The woodwork of these inhospitable chairs had been coated with varnish until it looked sticky. Over the little inadequate fireplace smiled a portrait of <PERSON> when she was quite young. <PERSON>, dressed in tartan for some strange reason, but in tartan that had never hobnobbed with the Highlands—a present this portrait had been from a cousin who had wished to become an artist.
<PERSON> extended a white, groping hand. She was like her sister only very much thinner, and her face had the closed rather blank expression that is sometimes associated with blindness.
'Which is <PERSON>?' she inquired in an anxious voice; 'I have heard so much about <PERSON>!'
<PERSON> said: 'Here I am,' and she grasped the hand, pitiful of this woman's affliction.
But <PERSON> smiled broadly. 'Yes, I know it is you from the feel,'—she had started to stroke <PERSON>'s coat-sleeve—'my eyes have gone into my fingers these days. It is strange, but I seem to see through my fingers.' Then she turned and found <PERSON> whom she also stroked. 'And now I know both of you,' declared <PERSON>.
The tea when it came was that straw-coloured liquid which may even now be met with in Paris.
'English tea bought especially for you, my <PERSON>,' remarked <PERSON> proudly. 'We drink only coffee, but I said to my sister, <PERSON> likes the good tea, and so, no doubt, does <PERSON>. At four o'clock they will not want coffee—you observe how well I remember your England!'
However, the cakes proved worthy of France, and <PERSON> ate them as though she enjoyed them. <PERSON> ate very little and did not talk much. She just sat there and listened, quietly smiling; and while she listened she crocheted lace as though, as she said, she could see through her fingers. Then <PERSON> explained how it was that those delicate hands had become so skilful, replacing the eyes which their ceaseless labour had robbed of the blessèd privilege of sight—explained so simply yet with such conviction, that <PERSON> must marvel to hear her.
'It is all our little <PERSON>,' she told <PERSON>. 'You have heard of her? No? Ah, but what a pity! Our <PERSON> was a nun at the Carmel at Lisieux, and she said: "I will let fall a shower of roses when I die." She died not so long ago, but already her Cause has been presented at Rome by the Very Reverend Father <PERSON>! That is very wonderful, is it not, <PERSON>? But she does not wait to become a saint; ah, but no, she is young and therefore impatient. She cannot wait, she has started already to do miracles for all those who ask her. I asked that <PERSON> should not be unhappy through the loss of her eyes—for when she is idle she is always unhappy—so our little <PERSON> has put a pair of new eyes in her fingers.'
<PERSON> nodded. 'It is true,' she said very gravely; 'before that I was stupid because of my blindness. Everything felt
|
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['f52069b6-7f96-1de2-a6b4-d0250cd0deb1']
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question of gossip or scandal, for everyone knows that I am a writer and as such may have occasion to travel. But in any case I care very little these days for the gossip of neighbours. For nearly three years I have borne your yoke—I have tried to be patient and understanding. I have tried to think that your yoke was a just one, a just punishment, perhaps, for my being what I am, the creature whom you and my father created; but now I am going to bear it no longer. If my father had lived he would have shown pity, whereas you showed me none, and yet you were my mother. In my hour of great need you utterly failed me; you turned me away like some unclean thing that was unfit to live any longer at Morton. You insulted what to me seemed both natural and sacred. I went, but now I shall not come back any more to you or to Morton. <PERSON> will be with me because she loves me; if I'm saved at all it is she who has saved me, and so for as long as she wishes to throw in her lot with mine I shall let her. Only one thing more; she will send you our address from time to time, but don't write to me, Mother, I am going away in order to forget, and your letters would only remind me of <PERSON>.'
She read over what she had written, three times, finding nothing at all that she wished to add, no word of tenderness, or of regret. She felt numb and then unbelievably lonely, but she wrote the address in her firm handwriting: 'The Lady <PERSON>,' she wrote, 'Morton Hall. Near Upton-on-Severn.' When she wept, as she presently must do, covering her face with her large, brown hands, her spirit felt unrefreshed by this weeping, for the hot, angry tears seemed to scorch her spirit. Thus was <PERSON> baptized through her child as by fire, unto the loss of their mutual salvation.
# CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
## 1
IT WAS <PERSON> who had recommended the little hotel in the Rue St. Roch, and when <PERSON> and <PERSON> arrived one evening that June, feeling rather tired and dejected, they found their sitting-room bright with roses—roses for <PERSON>—and on the table two boxes of Turkish cigarettes for <PERSON>. <PERSON>, they learnt, had ordered these things by writing specially from London.
Barely had they been in Paris a week, when <PERSON> turned up in person: 'Hallo, my dears, I've come over to see you. Everything all right? Are you being looked after?' He sat down in the only comfortable chair and proceeded to make himself charming to <PERSON>. It seemed that his flat in Paris being let, he had tried to get rooms at their hotel but had failed, so had gone instead to the Meurice. 'But I'm not going to take you to lunch there,' he told them, 'the weather's too fine, we'll go to Versailles. <PERSON>, ring up and
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his apron pocket. "The captain will want his tea," he said. He pointed to a pot hanging on a hook near the stove.
Onion Jim screeched. "Give us a ride," he squawked. He flew to <PERSON>'s shoulder. She tried to shoo him away. But the bird clung to her jacket. <PERSON> slipped out of the garment, and the bird flew off.
"Not now," <PERSON> said to him. She hung her jacket up on a nearby hook. She picked up the hot pot of tea with a rag. Then she headed to the captain's cabin.
<PERSON> passed a row of cannons as she left the kitchen deck. She noted the long sticks next to each one. Several sailors busied themselves scrubbing the deck. _I wish no one else was here,_ she thought. _I'd pitch those rammers into the sea right now._
She saw British sailors in the hold. They were busy guarding several American prisoners who had moved there. She couldn't get close to Lieutenant <PERSON>.
<PERSON> carried the tea into the captain's cabin. He now sat at a small table. He was eating the food she'd brought him earlier.
She set the tea next to him. A sailor walked in behind her. "You called, Captain?" he asked.
"Yes," Captain <PERSON> said. "It's time to drop off the rebel prisoners at the _Old Jersey_." __
<PERSON> poured tea into a pewter mug.
Captain <PERSON> said. "Orders are to sail north to New York at once."
<PERSON>'s hands shook as she finished pouring the tea. She hurried back to <PERSON> and filled the pot with fresh water. She put the pot back on the hook next to the stove. She wanted to tell <PERSON> the news right away.
Onion Jim hopped up and down on one of the barrels. "Give us a ride, dearie," he squawked like an old lady. "Pretty please?"
<PERSON> looked up from the stove. He was stirring a big pot. He frowned.
"That bird won't be quiet until you give him a ride," <PERSON> said. "Take him along while you bring food to the crew." He pointed to a bucket on the floor. "There's some potatoes to deliver. Then come right back."
<PERSON> groaned.
Onion Jim flapped his wings and landed on <PERSON>'s shoulder. He pecked at her cap. But she held on to it tightly with one hand.
<PERSON> took the food to the crew members. She served the potatoes and then hurried off to look for <PERSON>. "You better behave yourself," she said to <PERSON>.
She found <PERSON> on the top deck. He was sitting on a coil of rope. <PERSON> and <PERSON> sat next to him. Each of them was sewing a piece of white cloth.
Without looking up, <PERSON> said, "<PERSON> is teaching <PERSON> to make a ditty bag. I'm learning too."
"What's a ditty bag?" <PERSON> asked.
<PERSON> finished a stitch. He cut a piece of thread with a small knife. Then he held up the bag.
"Sailors use them to hold their personal stuff," he said. "Like a comb or lump of soap."
|
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['f5438480-7689-6eac-d9a3-e2a9273a489b']
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have nothing to do with it."
<PERSON> leaned in close toward <PERSON>. He whispered, "That's what I say. I don't believe in the gods anymore." He patted <PERSON> on the arm to comfort him. "We're safe."
<PERSON> felt helpless. He didn't know how to convince them to leave. He wondered who was in charge of the town.
"What about your leaders?" <PERSON> asked. "What do they say you should do?"
"Our senators can't make up their minds," <PERSON> said.
"Where are they?" asked <PERSON>.
<PERSON> hooked a thumb at a nearby road. "They're meeting in their chambers at the Forum."
<PERSON> saw a large, flat rectangular area of the city. It had tall, white buildings all around it.
"Go to the south end of the Forum," <PERSON> said. "You'll find them."
<PERSON> bowed to the kind couple. "Thank you," he said.
"May the gods speed you on your journey. And keep you safe," <PERSON> said. It sounded like a formal blessing.
<PERSON> didn't know how to respond. So he said, "May you live long and prosper." He waved good-bye and ran toward the Forum.
## Lost?
"Lost?" <PERSON> asked <PERSON>. "You lost <PERSON>?"
<PERSON> nodded. "Inasmuch as he was in the Imagination Station with my permission. Then, yes, I lost him."
"Can't we just shut off the machine?" <PERSON> asked.
"I'm not sure what would happen," <PERSON> said. "<PERSON> is in the middle of the program. To disrupt it could do him harm."
<PERSON> drummed his fingers on the table.
"Then what can we do?" <PERSON> said.
"Mr. <PERSON> knows his inventions better than anyone," <PERSON> said. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. "I'll call him."
<PERSON> looked at the Imagination Station. It seemed dark and forlorn.
<PERSON> dialed. A few seconds passed. He said, "Greetings, Mr. <PERSON>. <PERSON> here. We have a somewhat urgent situation at the shop. Please call me as soon as you can."
<PERSON>'s heart slumped. "Mr. <PERSON>'s voice mail?" she asked.
<PERSON> groaned. "I have to think through our options," he said.
_Boom!_
<PERSON> clapped her hands over her ears. Everything went dark. She could hear the rain pounding against the building.
"The backup propane generators will kick in," <PERSON> said. "Four, three, two, one . . ."
A low hum filled the room. Then the lights came on. The hum grew louder.
"I wish that storm would move on," <PERSON> said.
Then the Mega-Mix-O-Matic gurgled. It spat out some chocolate milk. Other machines went wacky too.
The lights on all <PERSON>'s inventions blinked. The machines also buzzed and beeped
<PERSON> went to the control panel. He flipped several levers. The noises grew louder as the machines went crazy.
"What's going on?" <PERSON> asked.
"The electrical system appears to be shorting out," <PERSON> said. "I'll have to go upstairs to the Master Control Room. Please stay here in case <PERSON> comes out of the Imagination Station."
"How will I let you know?" <PERSON> asked.
<PERSON> pointed to a small speaker in the wall. There were two buttons next to it. "Use that intercom."
|
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|
me do it when the time is right. He's your brother, but I'm his wife, and I'm calling the shots. You've got to help me."
I stopped in front of the station and turned to her. "Of course I'll help you. Anytime, anywhere, anyhow."
She had her door half open when she froze, turned, leaned over, and kissed me. I gave her a squeeze and patted her back. She was warm and smelled good, but it was brother-sister stuff, no more. I eased her away and said, "Just one thing. I know the street, I know this work. Something doesn't feel right about this thing, this <PERSON> fellow. You take real good care, <PERSON>. Stay in touch." I grinned. " _I_ don't mind trouble. It's what I do."
She smiled, nodded, got out, and walked across the sidewalk toward the door. "I'll be watching out for you," I called.
I HELD THE tester up and examined the colors. The pH was right on, the chlorine a tad down. I threw three concentrated chlorine eggs into the skimmer, screwed down the lid, and headed back to Building One of Norwegian Wood as a battalion of kids carrying towels and flotation devices screamed out the side door toward the pool. The phone in the maintenance office was ringing when I got there. It was <PERSON>.
"You hollered?" he asked.
"I got the story already. MBI's investigating <PERSON> It's dirty, top to bottom, the chief included. Right?"
"Wrong," he answered equably.
"No, I'm not. <PERSON> told me all about it." I drew up short as <PERSON>'s meaning sunk in. "No word of it out there?"
"Nope. Nothing like that. <PERSON> is a soldier, nothing more. His thing is chop shops, bad-check artists, stuff like that. Listen, <PERSON>, <PERSON> isn't senior enough to be doing something like a background inquiry into a police department. Even if he were, he wouldn't be doing it alone. There'd be a task force. And the state police would probably be doing it, not the MBI." Static whirred in the line for a second. "This smells like leftover fish, pal."
The phone receiver felt very warm and damp in my hand. I struggled to sound certain, and failed. "Maybe your contacts are uninformed."
"Don't underestimate me. My contacts are top-aiders. They'd know, no matter how quiet it was. Whatever <PERSON> is up to, he's in business for himself."
"I don't like the sound of it."
"You'll like _this_ even less. <PERSON> is thought of as an operator. A little fast, a little flashy, they think he's been off the reservation more than once, if you catch my drift, only they've never gotten the goods on him. No idea what his game is right now, but if I were you, it being the sister-in-law involved, I'd be extra careful."
"I'll do that, <PERSON>. Thanks."
"Chalk up one to that instinct of yours."
"I'll take a bow later, if it's all right with you. You, uh, you want a piece of this, maybe?"
"Thought you'd never ask. Hell, I'd like
|
f61af3aa-6133-7d71-0019-c22b553ae239
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|
friend of <PERSON>. We heard the shot and assumed there was trouble, thus the scene in the hallway.
We pulled it off, though it was sort of a pain, <PERSON> and me at the 6th Precinct for an hour answering the same questions separately until the cops gave up. <PERSON> was arrested for gun possession, but <PERSON> wasn't badly hurt and <PERSON> was a model of upwardly mobile Asian youth. A good lawyer would be able to wiggle him out of anything serious. I was mad enough to let him figure his own way out of spending the night in jail, but <PERSON> pointed out that it was our licenses on the line if <PERSON>, in his perilous emotional state, blew the story.
So I called Mrs. <PERSON> and told her where he was and what had happened, and suggested she send him a lawyer fast.
"How'd she take it?" <PERSON> asked as we left the police station. Tenth Street was carpeted with fallen leaves; streetlights shone gently on brick row-houses. It all seemed lovely and peaceful, but I was cold. And I knew that behind those cozy facades lurked legions of mothers gleefully plotting to double-cross their sons.
"She wailed. She yelled. She called him a stupid boy. She said it was all the white witch's fault. Then she said it was all _my_ fault. Then I hung up on her."
"Without telling her where to get off?"
"Well," I admitted, "I told her a little bit where to get off. Because it won't get around and embarrass my mother. From now on, I guarantee Mrs. <PERSON> will pretend she never heard of me."
We stopped at a corner to let a car drift past.
"How did you know?" <PERSON> asked. "That he was teaching her Mandarin."
"The book he dropped on his toe. It was the same one she was translating Mandarin from at the library. She's not taking any Mandarin courses, so I guessed he was her tutor. But I never guessed Mrs. <PERSON> had set us all up."
<PERSON> said nothing, just lit a cigarette and let me go on, thinking sad thoughts out loud. "The thing is," I said, "I can't believe a mother would do that. Do you know what she said, when I called her on it?"
"Tell me."
"'Mother know best for son. White witch bad wife, undutiful daughter-in-law.' That was all she cared about—that <PERSON> wasn't the daughter-in-law of her dreams. What kind of mother is that?"
"Human," <PERSON> said. "Flawed. Too desperate to see past herself."
"Desperate?" I snorted.
"Selfish. Diabolical. Manipulative. A classic Chinese mother."
"Is your mother like that?"
"Of course not! Just because she doesn't like _you_ —"
"Will it help if I learn Cantonese?"
I stopped, looked at him, and laughed. Then I hugged him.
When we started forward again, the night wasn't as cold and the houses weren't as hostile.
"Maybe it's not that I don't understand white people," I said. "Maybe I don't understand anybody."
"Who does?"
"You do. Here's
|
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to leave town. He said she's been reading too many scrolls and it has sent her imagination into overdrive.
So instead <PERSON>'s come up with a plan to get us out of here. I think it might work, but I'm not looking forward to it.
<PERSON> and <PERSON> have called a town meeting tomorrow to discuss the demon. <PERSON> wants me to pretend that I've remembered something really important about my demon encounter. Then, when I've got the crowd's attention, I can tell them the truth about what <PERSON> said in his scroll.
I know my public-speaking skills are good, but in the scroll, <PERSON> says <PERSON> and <PERSON> threatened him when he tried to warn them about the mountain and trapped air. What will they do to me if I make them angry?
<PERSON> ran out before I could come up with a different plan that didn't involve me infuriating the whole town and getting pelted with rotten vegetables.
#### July XVII
The crowd didn't pelt me with rotten vegetables. It was much worse than that.
I climbed up the temple steps and looked out at them. There were LOADS more people than at the tax discussion.
'I know you want to hear about my demon attack,' I said. 'But I'm not going to talk about it.'
A loud 'BOO' rang out. I spotted a man in a blue tunic at the back wandering away.
'But what I have to tell you is even more exciting,' I said.
'What is it?' asked a woman with red hair.
'Have you been attacked by a manticore this time? Or a basilisk? They're good.'
The man in the blue tunic turned back to join the crowd again. 'Was it a gorgon?' he asked. 'My sister's friend got bitten by one of those once. Nasty!'
'Nothing like that,' I said. 'The truth is, there is no demon or any other type of beast in the mountain. It's Vesuvius ITSELF that's the problem. I know because I found a secret scroll left by <PERSON>.'
'Not that nutter <PERSON>,' shouted <PERSON>. 'I might have known he'd leave some sort of message for weirdos to find.'
'There's air trapped underneath the mountain,' I shouted. 'And it's going to EXPLODE, sending rocks and fire all over the place and all over us.'
I'd expected everyone to flee in panic at this point, but they just kept staring at me.
'Abandon the town!' I shouted. 'It's not safe.'
There was another awkward pause.
'I think the demon must have taken over his mind,' said <PERSON>. 'That's why he's spouting gibberish.'
The crowd wailed. 'Save him!' shouted <PERSON>. 'Somebody save my poor <PERSON>.'
Hearing <PERSON> call me '<PERSON>' in front of everyone made me blush bright red.
'Look! The heat of the demon is showing on his face,' shouted <PERSON>. 'We must act fast. Someone fetch some fish sauce. That's great for curing things.'
<PERSON> rushed up the steps and twisted my hands behind my back. A stall owner followed him, clutching a jar of the rancid fish sauce.
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couple of men chatting on the other side of the room.
At first I didn't pay them much attention. But after a while their voices started to sound familiar.
'Not long now,' said a man with a very high voice. 'Make sure you're ready.'
'It had better be soon,' said a man with a very deep voice. 'I've turned down some good torture work from the money-lenders for this.'
It was them. The men I'd heard in the graveyard were RIGHT HERE.
The room was too steamy for me to see anything, so I dashed over to where the voices had come from. Then I yelped in pain and rushed back. The floor was SERIOUSLY hot.
I put my sandals on and crossed the floor again. There was no one there. The men had gone, but they couldn't have got far. I was going to find them and save Rome from disaster.
I searched all around the baths. I checked all the pools, gardens and massage rooms, but I couldn't see them.
Just as I was about to give up, I heard the voices again. Two men were making their way out of the exit. This is what they looked like, just in case I forget them:
I ran after the men, and got outside just in time to see them turning into an alleyway. I wanted to keep going, but something felt wrong ... it seemed very cold for midday.
Oops. I'd left all my clothes in the changing room. The SHAME! I tried to cover myself up and sidestepped back to the baths. Even worse, <PERSON>, <PERSON> and <PERSON> chose that exact moment to walk past.
#### April III
When I told <PERSON> what happened yesterday, he said I should have chased after the men even though I had no clothes on. No way. I want to save <PERSON>, but not if it means running around the streets of Rome stark naked.
Dad thinks it'll be easier to find the men now I know what they look like, and he sent me out to look for them again.
It didn't really make things any easier, of course. I knew one of them was short and the other was tall, but it didn't narrow things down much. I spent all day looking for the men.
I DID see someone I recognized, though – <PERSON>, the Greek kid. He works for the laundry now, and was carrying a huge pot of wee. It was really full, TOTALLY gross, and wee kept splashing over the sides on to his ragged clothes.
'Sorry we couldn't buy you,' I said. 'Dad never forks out for good stuff. I've been bugging him for a bronze model of a chariot for years, and he still hasn't bought it.'
'Never mind,' said <PERSON>. 'Things could be worse.'
'You're carrying a massive pot of wee around,' I said. 'How could things possibly be worse?'
'I'm learning a trade,' said <PERSON>. 'I can already tell which wee will work best just from the smell. Besides, the other boy they
|
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risks and participate fully in disaster preparation. (The importance of education is not unique to Cuba. The role of women is crucial. A strong worldwide trend shows that countries with higher rates of female secondary education tend to have lower fatality rates from climatic disasters.) According to <PERSON> of Rutgers University and <PERSON> of University College London, "Cuba's achievements have been attained because disaster and risk management are not seen as different entities; rather, they are viewed as an integral part of the development of the country and its people. Universal access to services such as health and education (both in urban and rural areas), policies to reduce social and economic disparities, investment in the country's infrastructure (including rural areas), and social organization have been among the priorities in Cuba's overall development over the years." In countries where such policies are not pursued, the converse is true: disasters reveal the deficiencies in development policies.
Of course, preventing death and injury during disasters does not necessarily prevent destruction of infrastructure and property. Over the decades, Cuba has repeatedly had to scramble back from economic crises caused by hurricanes. Hurricane Sandy, the second-strongest recorded storm ever to strike Cuba, made landfall at its peak strength on the eastern part of the island in the early morning hours of October 25, 2012. Sustained winds of 110 miles per hour blew there for six hours, leaving the nation's second city, Santiago, in ruins and its half million inhabitants in dire straits. In passing over Cuba's landmass, Sandy lost some strength but remained a serious threat, so even before the storm had fully cleared Cuba, the rest of the world was already turning its attention to the U.S. East Coast. Residents of Santiago and the countryside were left with a mammoth cleanup and rebuilding job that would require years to complete. By the second anniversary of the disaster, the government announced that, out of more than 170,000 damaged homes, 49,000 still had not been repaired or replaced and 44 percent of Sandy's total damage to buildings and infrastructure had not yet been restored.
MANGROVE DREAMS
Fending off flood hazards with hard technology in New York, Miami, Rotterdam, and Venice is very costly, and the chief rationalization for such expenditures is the high value of exposed property. Because most countries across the global South cannot afford such hard defenses on the massive scale that will be required as seas rise, many in the disaster risk reduction community have instead been encouraging the South to adopt the "ecosystem approach" or "social-ecological resilience." These are conceptual steps very much in the right direction, modeled as they are on natural systems, which, per <PERSON> (see pages 18–20), show great resilience in the face of natural disturbances. Ecosystems acquire that resilience not only by fending off hazards but also, when necessary, through compromise, sacrifice, limitations on growth, and retreat. Those last four strategies, however, are poorly compatible with capitalist economics, so in practice the ecological approach to disaster prevention—or "working with nature," as it is often called—typically comes down
|
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the sometimes arbitrary boundaries set by presidential decrees—got nothing beyond some emergency assistance. They had been rendered homeless, and many of them jobless, with their formerly strong social ties disrupted. In rebuilding their lives, they were on their own. And the protests against <PERSON> and the government rolled on. In all, <PERSON> had owed an estimated 3 trillion rupiah in compensation for residential property (amounting to $235 million, or approximately 5 percent of <PERSON> personal net worth before the 2008 crash); by early 2013, according to President <PERSON>, they had paid about 73 percent of that amount. But that didn't square very well with the stories of <PERSON> and others who say they have received far less than three-quarters of what they were owed.
<PERSON> is an activist who worked for several years on behalf of the mud-inundated communities. At the time of the well blowout and eruption, he was working for Bumi Resources, Indonesia's biggest coal company, which is also owned by the <PERSON> family. He began seeing a stream of internal e-mails in which management attempted to convince employees that the volcano was a "natural" disaster. The claims in the e-mails seemed to him both desperate and dishonest. Disillusioned with his employer, he quit his job and moved to the city of Yogyakarta, on Java's south coast—coincidentally, the city that had suffered badly in the earthquake <PERSON> claimed was the cause of the mudflow. There he met <PERSON>, a leader in the Lumpur Lapindo resistance movement, and joined the struggle. In 2014, with the compensation struggle limping along with no end in sight, <PERSON> said, "nobody really knows how much Lapindo has paid. They make a series of partial transfers directly into people's bank accounts, when the people have already signed for the whole amount." He believed that the high percentages of the payout being cited at the time by the government and media referred to the total amount that households have signed for even though they were receiving that money only a little at a time.
As desperately needed as the compensation payments were, it will take more than cash to heal the damage done by the mud. For one thing, the formula that reimbursed households in proportion to the value of the property they lost served to cement in place the imbalances of wealth and power that prevailed before the eruption. <PERSON> gives the residents of Renokenongo who stuck together and built the new village Renojoyo plenty of credit for their persistence but says their victory was incomplete: "They held out for their rights and stayed in the refugee camp longer than most, and they managed their move to the new land collectively. From the outside they seem strongly organized. But if you go deep there are a lot of problems. Better-connected people got better houses closer to the main road." And the better-connected were for the most part those who had owned more property back in Renokenongo, had been assigned bigger compensation packages, and had been able to extract from Lapindo a bigger
|
b72b0fe0-923f-47da-c9c5-41e47d7201b2
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rain till this last spring."
"I knew it!" exclaimed <PERSON> in wild excitement.
"May I ask what you knew?"
<PERSON> was staring, as well he might.
"Only that the whole mischief must have happened since these people came here to live!"
"Do you suggest that they've been living beyond their means?"
"I shouldn't be surprised," said <PERSON>, as readily as though nothing else had been in his mind.
"Well, and I should say you were right," rejoined the engineer, "if it wasn't for the funniest part of all. When a straight man goes off the rails, there's generally some tremendous cause; but one of the surprises of this case, as my banker has managed to ascertain, is that Abercromby Royle is in a position to repay every penny. He has more than enough to do it, lying idle in his bank; so there was no apparent motive for the crime, and I for my part am prepared to treat it as a sudden aberration."
"Exactly!" cried <PERSON>, as though he were the missing man's oldest friend and more eager than either of us to find excuses for him.
"Otherwise," continued <PERSON>, "I wouldn't have taken you gentlemen into my confidence. But the plain fact is that I'm prepared to condone the felony at my own risk in return for immediate and complete restitution." He turned his attention entirely to me. "Now, <PERSON> can't make good unless you help him by helping me to find him. I won't be hard on him if you do, I promise you! Not a dozen men in England shall ever know. But if I have to hunt for him it'll be with detectives and a warrant, and the fat'll be in the fire for all the world to smell!"
What could I do but give in after that? I had not promised to keep any secrets, and it was clearly in the runaway's interests to disclose his destination on the conditions laid down. Of his victim's good faith I had not a moment's doubt; it was as patent as his magnanimous compassion for Abercromby Royle. He blamed himself for not looking after his own show; it was unfair to take a poor little pettifogging solicitor and turn him by degrees into one's trusted business man; it was trying him too high altogether. He spoke of the poor wretch as flying from a wrath that existed chiefly in his own imagination, and even for that he blamed himself. It appeared that <PERSON> had vowed to <PERSON> that he would have no mercy on anybody who was swindling him, no matter who it might be. He had meant it as a veiled warning, but <PERSON> might have known his bark was worse than his bite, and have made a clean breast of the whole thing there and then. If only he had! And yet I believe we all three thought the better of him because he had not.
But it was not too late, thanks to me! I could not reveal the boat or line by which <PERSON> was
|
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you mean to prepare the way with those notes this afternoon!"
It was only too like the <PERSON> of those days to dismiss a subject and myself in the same breath, with a sudden nod, and a brief grasp of the hand he was already holding out for mine. I had a great mind to take another of his cigarettes instead, for there were one or two points on which he had carefully omitted to enlighten me. Thus, I had still to learn the bare direction of his journey; and it was all that I could do to drag it from him as I stood buttoning my coat and gloves.
"Scotland," he vouchsafed at last.
"At Easter," I remarked.
"To learn the language," he explained. "I have no tongue but my own, you see, but I try to make up for it by cultivating every shade of that. Some of them have come in useful even to your knowledge, <PERSON>: what price my Cockney that night in St. John's Wood? I can keep up my end in stage Irish, real Devonshire, very fair Norfolk, and three distinct Yorkshire dialects. But my good Galloway Scots might be better, and I mean to make it so."
"You still haven't told me where to write to you."
"I'll write to you first, <PERSON>."
"At least let me see you off," I urged at the door. "I promise not to look at your ticket if you tell me the train!"
"The eleven-fifty from Euston."
"Then I'll be with you by quarter to ten."
And I left him without further parley, reading his impatience in his face. Everything, to be sure, seemed clear enough without that fuller discussion which I loved and <PERSON> hated. Yet I thought we might at least have dined together, and in my heart I felt just the least bit hurt, until it occurred to me as I drove to count the notes in my cigarette case. Resentment was impossible after that. The sum ran well into three figures, and it was plain that <PERSON> meant me to have a good time in his absence. So I told his lie with unction at my bank, and made due arrangements for the reception of his chest next morning. Then I repaired to our club, hoping he would drop in, and that we might dine together after all. In that I was disappointed. It was nothing, however, to the disappointment awaiting me at the Albany, when I arrived in my four-wheeler at the appointed hour next morning.
"Mr. <PERSON> 'as gawn, sir," said the porter, with a note of reproach in his confidential undertone. The man was a favorite with <PERSON>, who used him and tipped him with consummate tact, and he knew me only less well.
"Gone!" I echoed aghast. "Where on earth to?"
"Scotland, sir."
"Already?"
"By the eleven-fifty lawst night."
"Last night! I thought he meant eleven-fifty this morning!"
"He knew you did, sir, when you never came, and he told me to tell you there was no such train."
I could
|
df9c50ea-8e24-3aaa-81c1-967cb917eb2d
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Kitchen," as I learned it was always called by all those who had anything to do with it.
"I took the photographs over her shoulder so readers would see the food from the cook's angle," he explained. It was an innovation in food photography, since most food photos aimed at tantalizing the appetite and not at teaching. Up until that moment, it had escaped my notice that the photographs and artful sketches in <PERSON>'s early books were <PERSON>'s. For all I knew about <PERSON>'s cooking, I knew little about her personal life. I'm not sure I even knew there was a <PERSON>, so I certainly didn't know that <PERSON>'s husband, ten years her senior, had suffered a heart attack in 1974, followed by a small series of strokes from which he had never fully recovered. That day she made no apology or explanation for <PERSON>'s peculiar scolding tone.
He turned to the front of the book and pointed out what he told me was a favorite photograph—<PERSON> silhouetted in shadow in front of the window in their Marseilles apartment. "<PERSON> looks really good in this," he said, becoming the only person I would ever hear call her <PERSON>. Somehow it instantly revealed the closeness that was theirs and gave me a glimpse of the extremely charming man who had governed <PERSON>'s heart for some thirty-four years.
<PERSON>, <PERSON>, and me in my kitchen.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the kitchen, <PERSON> was perched on a stool—knees crossed, top leg swinging sassily—surveying her surroundings. <PERSON> had been working with <PERSON> since the first television series. They were good friends. She was in her forties, brash and entertaining with a quick, bawdy wit and a sharp tongue that <PERSON> found terribly funny. So did I. Then <PERSON> said something that caught me off guard.
"You studied with <PERSON>?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head in the direction of my Modern Gourmet diploma in the bookcase. This was a touchy subject because I knew that there was bad blood between <PERSON> and <PERSON>. The times that <PERSON> even mentioned <PERSON> in class, it was to say, "She is neither French nor a chef."
"Yes, I did," I responded, and <PERSON> gave me an inscrutable smile. I gave it my own read: I would be condemned by association and deep-sixed before I got to demonstrate my efficiency or serve my great-grandma <PERSON>'s red chowder. But no one said anything more on the subject. Not then, anyway.
We spent close to an hour in my kitchen, getting to know each other and smiling for <PERSON>, who, being <PERSON>, had her camera and was snapping photos. <PERSON> talked mostly about the recipes for the demonstrations, describing in detail how she planned to mix this or assemble that. The words perfectly, carefully, and impeccably sifted evenly throughout her descriptions, and I knew she was sending me a message: We don't rush through things. As she spoke, her hands slowly pantomimed cooking motions, and I remember how their expressiveness captured my attention. <PERSON> had very
|
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that is, someone so staunchly loyal to the party that a vote for a yellow dog on the Democratic ticket was preferable to a vote outside party lines. Our friend <PERSON> defended my position by declaring that I had a liberal heart in spite of my party registration. Nonetheless, for years <PERSON> never missed an opportunity, when politics was the subject, to announce to a tableful of people, "<PERSON>'s a Republican," always with a teasing glance in my direction.
Conversation was no less stimulating when there were just the three of us at dinner, although I have to admit that I often brought our talk around to the subject of espionage. I was relentless in questioning <PERSON> about his experiences with the OSS during World War II. <PERSON> already knew that I was certain that she had been a spy, or maybe I just wanted her to have been. I was even more suspicious of <PERSON>. After all, he held a black belt in jujitsu, spoke French like a Frenchman, and could ski down the steepest mountains on barrel slats. How much more <PERSON> can you be? He'd worked in the secret, strategic map room of the OSS, and when the war ended, the French awarded him the Legion of Honor, the highest civilian medal, for his wartime efforts. When I begged <PERSON> to tell me if he had been a spy, he always denied it, but I watched for signs of dissimulation, such as furtive eye movements and shifts in body position. All to no avail, so I worked on <PERSON>. "Was <PERSON> a spy?"
"No. He drew maps," she'd say.
That sounded like hedging to me. "But they were strategic maps. And that sounds like a great cover for a spy."
"Well, if he was, I didn't know about it," she'd respond to my litany of reasons why he just had to be.
It was during the company dinners that <PERSON> and I met many of each other's friends and families. She invited hers and told me to include mine. <PERSON>'s good friends and neighbors, <PERSON> and <PERSON>, were regulars at those dinners. The <PERSON> and the <PERSON> were good friends and had connections to each other that predated their friendship. <PERSON>'s twin brother had been a student of <PERSON>'s at Avon Old Farms School, and <PERSON> had graduated from Smith College seventeen years after <PERSON>. But even without those connections, I'm sure they would have been friends. <PERSON> could have been <PERSON>'s sister, raised in the same family. She has that same down-to-earth, unguarded way of greeting life, the same intense interest in people and things around her, the same sense of fun and whimsy that <PERSON> had.
A landscape designer by profession, <PERSON> was also a cooking assistant and recipe tester for <PERSON>'s PBS television series, for Parade issues, and for several of her cookbooks. Wearing her landscaping hat, <PERSON> designed the enchanting garden that surrounded <PERSON>'s house. The yard was not large, but it seemed so by the way <PERSON> created spaces and movement
|
2443c420-21fa-de5f-3dec-a281f4908176
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day. The corner rooms on each floor had 4-sets with a common room. There they found an assigned Mate of the Deck who had a podium seat to watch over the activity of his deck (floor) and maintain order. The midshipmen would rotate mate-of-the-deck duty a certain number of days of the year. Every day a commissioned officer—usually a lieutenant—would come in for inspection, rapping on a door. By custom the mids jumped to attention, saying, "Welcome aboard, sir." In addition, the <PERSON> rotated duty in the main office.
<PERSON> looked at his half of the wardrobe and knew immediately that he couldn't keep his civilian clothing, so he expressed it all home that day, except for one suit, which he left at the tailor's, to be cleaned and stored in mothballs.
The United States Naval Academy was unlike anything <PERSON> had ever encountered before, a step into a new way of life, strange and new and wonderful and foreign and overwhelming. Even the dining hall was enormous and intimidating, large enough to seat four thousand. The tables were served with exotic foods like scrapple and grits and fried green tomatoes—and oysters (legendarily oysters for lunch on Saturdays). Nothing tells you you're not in Kansas—or Missouri!—anymore like the odd and unlikely things outlanders eat.
One of the trials of <PERSON> surfaced immediately: at meals, the upperclassmen who supervised each table of <PERSON> kept snapping questions so the <PERSON> could hardly eat—"How many ships in the China Station, Mister?"—and <PERSON> had not yet developed ways to compensate for the interruptions. In the first week he lost ten pounds he could hardly afford to lose. He went to bed those first nights more homesick than he thought he could ever be.
Although the lowest form of naval life, a midshipman—even a raw <PERSON>—is an officer in the U.S. Navy (by a peculiarity of the law, a West Point cadet is not an Army officer). The Naval Academy used the Army system for its Table of Organization: the Corps of Midshipmen was divided up into regiments by classes, with officers of grades going from Third Class to Second Class to First Class. On graduation, a midshipman would be commissioned with the lowest rating in the Naval table of organization, the ensign. When the bell rang for the Class of 1929's first formation, Second Classmen (the equivalent of juniors in college) who for some reason did not go on the practice cruise that year formed them up into two battalions of two companies each—two called "French" and two "Spanish." (The boys would be encouraged to speak these languages among themselves, and this would help satisfy the Academy's modern languages requirement, called "Dago.") This would be their permanent organization during their four years at the Naval Academy. <PERSON> was in one of the French companies.
The Second Classmen who had charge of the <PERSON> were brusque and businesslike but not particularly oppressive—a class history recalls their most common remarks to the <PERSON> as "Brace up, Mister," "Just what do you think you rate, anyway?" and the
|
d9975d70-ae6c-576f-732b-07d08ca88672
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|
one vote per precinct. <PERSON> also won the Republican primary, running uncontested, and the Assembly District 59 seat would not even be listed on the November general election ballot. "I once lost an election by less than 400 votes," <PERSON> said.
In the post-mortem I was able to tabulate names of more people than that who were personal acquaintances of mine, had promised me support—but did not vote... Forty election-day volunteers could have swung the district.
The party had written off that assembly district, but this loss was especially galling for <PERSON>: a reactionary Republican had picked up more votes from his fellow Democrats than he had, even with the most intense, personal, hands-on work.
He turned over the problem with <PERSON> and <PERSON> and his other campaign staff in a postmortem. Maybe Ham and Eggs defeated him; maybe it was the phony Nazi connection with <PERSON>.
But maybe he was sunk by hewing too close to the EPIC line. EPIC's strength was waning—EPIC News had just ceased publication for lack of support, and the party had never been able to elect a full EPIC slate in any district. Maybe the New Deal was as radical as the Democratic Party would get. Mainstream Democrats wanted to take back control of their party apparatus.
This had been an exhausting—and humiliating—campaign. But life goes on. Politics goes on. And you rarely lose political capital with your party by running in a district locked up by the other party. In the meantime, there was an election to win.
The next item of business was housecleaning for the State Democratic Committee. The EPIC wing of the party was sinking partly because its dead weight of communist infiltrators was becoming a problem in the party organization: "A group of three can often stampede a crowd into some action disastrous to the objectives of the crowd but suited in some devious fashion to Communist purposes." For just this reason, mainstream Democrats had become wary of trying to work with EPIC clubs.
The <PERSON> tactic of keeping the EPIC clubs as a shadow organization of the local Democratic clubs was starting to backfire. The problem had only gotten worse since 1935. Now, there wasn't anybody in the California Democratic Party with Sinclair's prestige to stand up against the communists. It had become another of those factors that made working with the mainstream Democrats an uphill battle. It was getting less and less realistic to stay EPIC and Democrat at the same time.
<PERSON> realized that the experience of working with EPIC had changed his political orientation somewhat. He used to think of himself as a "pragmatic socialist," unconcerned with "labels, terminology or fine points of ideology." The Democratic Party had all the stuff it really needed, except the driving will—and that, the EPICs could provide.
If the EPICs could clean up their act, they could improve their chances at the next election and the next—and that's what the state committee people were supposed to be working toward, after all. He arranged a meeting with <PERSON>
|
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|
oak tabletop and onto one of his hands—a hand that I hardly recognized as my own, with its thin fingers and yellowish skin stretched over the knuckles, not a wrinkle anywhere.
Next to the hand lay a desperately old folio, bound with a ribbon. We had discovered it squirreled away in the bottom of a locked metal case, with papers scattered over it, as if some librarian had hidden it there. <PERSON> worked the ribbon off, and ever so carefully, using the tips of his fingers, lifted the first leaf. The thick surface—more like muslin than paper—boiled with an intricate etching. A giant snail slithered over a woman who embraced its fat head. A man received sexual favors from a wild boar. A dwarf with a boot on his head brandished a giant penis that was also an earthworm descending into a hole in the soil. The etching could have been a hundred years old or six hundred; it could have been a masterpiece or a copy. <PERSON> settled into a chair, using a magnifying glass to study the fine lines. He turned the pages, exclaimed over each one.
<PERSON> followed along with him for a while, and then wandered away, curious about what other treasures he might find. He fingered the leather spines on the shelves, pulling out a book now and then without even bothering to read its title, examining the marbled paper and the whispering tissue that protected engravings of sea shells and be-wigged men and galaxies.
"There's some amazing stuff over here," he called.
"Wait a sec," <PERSON> called back.
Now <PERSON> opened a book at random, to a flyleaf, where he came across a signature: "<PERSON>." <PERSON> knew of him, but had never been interested. Now, though, it was as if he'd glimpsed something essential about <PERSON> in the way that signature slanted perilously on the page, as if it was about to tumble out of the book entirely.
The hair prickled on the back of <PERSON>'s neck. He touched the brown T with the tip of his pinkie. This is why he'd gone into history—for these moments when he seemed to travel backwards in time and visit the dead.
<PERSON> lifted his eyes from the page. He surveyed the labyrinth of shelves, the aisles that disappeared into gloom where the light from the desk lamp couldn't reach. All of a sudden, he knew he would write a masterpiece one day. The future would unfurl before him like a red carpet. Applause would thunder. A woman would stand on her tip-toes to adjust his tie for an awards dinner. <PERSON> touched his tongue to his upper lip, the soft unpuckered flesh of a young man's mouth.
"Hey, check this out," <PERSON> called to him from the other side of the bookshelf. <PERSON> slid the book back into the slot. He found <PERSON> kneeling on the floor, his army jacket splayed before him; he was busy taping one of the etchings onto the fabric, so he could wear it out of the library. <PERSON> watched
|
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before that happens, we have a responsibility to tell everyone what it is. If I have to present myself as the pathetic victim of cancer, well so be it. We have to give this drug a human face."
I leaned forward. "You keep saying 'we.' You want me to do something. You want—what?"
She pursed her lips, considering how to put it. After a moment, she said, "You could be a lot of help to us."
I stuck my hands in pockets, rattled my car keys. "But how?"
"You've got that look. That TV look. And you're a professor. And <PERSON> says you've won all kinds of prizes. You could be the one who goes on the ten o'clock news and makes the public see the value of this drug, everyone, even the healthy people." She had taken a step forward, and now stood just a smidge over the line of my personal space, so that I had the urge to back away. But I was against the wall and I couldn't.
"I hate to break it to you, but I have zero influence. I'm just a washed-up academic." I was, suddenly, exhausted. Out the window, the sky had turned white, as it does on winter mornings; the branches of bare trees covered it with cracks; the world out there, all fissures and fractures, and people dreaming of escape, seemed way too inscrutable, too huge, for me to affect in even the slightest way.
"You could do it if you wanted to," she said. "You're perfectly capable."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes," she said. "You are."
Chapter 6
I drove back to New Hampshire. When I took the turn into my own neighborhood, the car glided past hills of snow. Every house had its own pile out front, so much extra snow that no one knew where to put it, snow that had gone gray as newspaper, snow in lumps like the pills on old sweaters, snow that kids didn't even want to play with because there was too much of it.
In front of our house sat my own personal pile. How many hours had I spent shoveling, my shoulder aching, ice water seeping into my boots? And after all that work, it had snowed while I was gone. The first week in April might as well have been goddamned January. The driveway had turned white again, and I had to shift into first gear to get up the incline. I rolled into the garage, angling so I could fit my Saab beside <PERSON>'s car. For a moment, I stayed packed into the seat, listening to the car creak and groan as it cooled. It seemed to me as if I had taken a wrong exit back in New York somewhere. If only I'd turned off onto another highway, I might have driven to that studio apartment on 114th Street with its murky yellow light. Or maybe I could have returned to the apartment on 95th where I scribbled on legal pads and lived on takeout from La Taza De Oro. I
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Some brokers do claim to act as a fiduciary when creating financial plans, especially if they've earned the CFP designation, which technically requires them to act as fiduciaries. Be sure you know which hat they're wearing when giving you advice—and when they switch hats.
Are there any good reasons to consult a broker? Well, you won't have to write a check up front, since they work on commission. Also, the plans they create for you are usually offered for free, and you pay only if you purchase the investments.
If you have a large lump sum to invest, if you will never add to it, and if you plan to keep it invested for many years, you may pay less for a broker than if you hire a fee-only planner (discussed later in this chapter). But in real life that's unlikely, because you will get a call from the broker periodically encouraging you to change your investments to some new recommendations, at which point you will be charged, and generate more commissions.
Your broker is likely to be friendly and affable. They'll be glad to talk to you if you're lonely, chat about events in the market, and so on. Everyone who comes into my office suspecting that something isn't quite right with their plan always assures me that their broker is a very nice guy. I always tell them that if he had a forked tail and horns he'd never sell anything. Nice isn't what you need in an adviser so much as honesty and expert fiduciary advice. Also, remember that what your broker recommends is what the brokerage house says he can recommend.
Brokerage houses have battalions of research analysts. But the majority of research and "buy" signals they generate are aimed at encouraging you to purchase and exchange your investments. If you're considering brokerage recommendations, ask your broker to provide you with statistics on what percentage of recommendations are buy, what percentage are hold, and how many sell recommendations are generated—usually only when there's horrendous news, scandal, or the company gives evidence of going bust (and sometimes not even then).
Warning
Many well-known media gurus have websites and programs that offer you an "approved" list of financial advisers. Be sure you understand how these advisers are paid. Just because a guy wrote a good book that seems to offer straight talk, or claims to adhere to religious principles, doesn't mean he's above collecting commissions. Some of these advisers are approved because they paid a big fee to be listed, and are exclusively commission-based.
Brokers' duties to their clients is the subject of a swirl of controversy. The federal government has recently moved toward new rules requiring all advisers (including commissioned brokers) to be fiduciaries when advising on retirement plans. How this will be implemented or subverted is the subject of breaking news. Please keep abreast of the current situation when considering advisers.
Fee-Based Advisers
Some people get a little angry when they figure out their broker is charging them 5.75 percent for a bond fund that returns 1 percent.
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ec0534fc-a1f7-2a58-9e02-dd605c2645ae
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['f760201d-0623-8e1d-07e2-fed92bb6134a']
|
scratched, which would make me sick if it cost $4,000. So in this scenario, the real luxury would be not giving up the weekend trips, but getting a moderately better bike.
Warning
I have pretty strong opinions on buying your kid luxury items, which can be summed up in one word: don't. My daughter's dorm has a "Free" box where students can discard usable items they no longer want. Dear daughter has acquired a brand-new pair of Ugg boots and a set of Bose noise-cancelling headphones from the box. I'm glad I'm not the parent who paid for those. Respect your kids enough to believe they are capable of earning these things themselves.
The Yardstick-of-Luxury System
One more scenario: I adore sewing and make a lot of garments, with the odd quilt and dog coat thrown in. When my machine went kaput 3 years ago, I wanted something top-of-the-line, because, well, my skills are top-of-the-line. But to my shock, sewing machines have gotten a bit more expensive over the past 20 years, since I paid $3,600 for my old Viking. As in $14,000 expensive for a current top-of-the-line model (which, if I analyze investments as doubling every 10 years, actually makes the current price just about equivalent, but gives us a sewing machine inflation rate of 7 percent).
I went home and analyzed the features I actually use. I made a list, went back, and purchased an embroidery machine with a ton of stitches for about $1,800. Does it give me more pleasure than two weekends away? Absolutely—I use it every week, and I've now had it for 3 years, so the total "pleasure" cost is $600 a year. If you have a hobby that actually saves you money (I'm not sure sewing clothes does), you might figure the savings into your cost analysis.
I have a friend who is an incredible quilt artist. She also teaches classes on weekends, it's just about her only hobby, and the vacation she takes is to the huge quilt show in Paducah, Kentucky. She has a sewing machine the size of an old Volkswagen, and its sticker price is around $14,000. Would it be worth giving up weekends away for, like, forever? Not for me, but she's figured out how to make this luxury work. (See the next section on ideas for strategies to make luxury purchases worthwhile.) And in her case, because she has a side business as a quilting instructor, at least some of the cost of her machine, and supplies for samples and demos, is deductible against the income she earns in the business.
This yardstick-of-luxury system can be applied to almost any purchase you contemplate, and illustrates that all expenditures require at least some choices. Would a vacation home give you more pleasure than a yearly trip to Paris? Would it be more satisfying to drive a BMW or have a sailboat? How much time do you have to actually use your purchase, or will it collect dust? How much will it take to maintain one versus the other?
Warning
A
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hemma. Pappa brukade <PERSON> i bilen medan jag gick och ringde på. Om någon öppnade då blev det dumt. Då fick <PERSON>
Vi åkte till några som hade får. Jag vet inte hur pappa kände dem, jag minns dem inte och jag minns inte var de bodde. De hade en son, det kommer <PERSON> ihåg, och sonen visade mig runt på gården. Ett får hade fått missfall och han visade mig den blodiga halmen och fårfostret som hade stötts bort. Det var vår.
På vägen hem lärde mig pappa vad <PERSON> hette, han lärde mig att alla svenska bävrar är norska, för när svenskarna hade jagat slut på alla sina bävrar i början av 1900-talet fick man plantera in ett nytt bestånd från Norge. Pappa lärde mig allt.
Alla fåglar. Skillnaden på knölsvan och sångsvan. Havsörn och kungsörn. Hackspettar och gröngölingar och nötskrikor och sädesärlor och svalor, ladusvalor och tornsvalor. När svalorna flyger lågt blir det dåligt väder. Dovhjort och kronhjort.
McDonald's kom till Karlstad 1990 och det var en stor händelse. Men inga hamburgare har, varken förr eller senare, smakat som de som stektes på Sibyllakioskerna i Mellansverige i slutet av 80-talet, de hamburgare som min pappa köpte till mig och som jag stod mig på i trettio mil minst.
# FASANERNA
Pappa skaffade fasaner. Massor av fasaner. Jag hade så svårt att lära mig vad alla de olika sorterna hette men pappa var tålmodig och noggrann. Diamantfasan, guldfasan, kungsfasan, blå öronfasan, grå öronfasan, wallichfasan, silver, guld, brun, svart, vit, det var en jävla massa olika sorter men jag lärde mig dem så småningom.
<PERSON> förvarade fasanerna strax före Trossnäs, man svängde höger på en av de vägar som ledde in i skogarna före det stora herresätet i Edsvalla. Skogsvägen ledde till en hålighet i skogen, som var fylld med stora burar. Där fanns fasanerna.
Vi stannade till där på vägen ut till pappa, när det var <PERSON>. Vi matade alla fasanerna, och jag fick artbestämma varenda bur. Guld, silver, kejsar, kung.
<PERSON> hittade en röd skinnbörs på skogsvägen en gång, som han gav till mig. Det ligger något i den, jag tror att det är mascara eller nåt, sa pappa.
Jag öppnade börsen när vi kom ut till landet. Där låg en spruta. Jag öppnade sprutan. Tog av nålskyddet, provstack i fingret. Visade pappa sprutan. Det var ingen mascara, det var en spruta pappa.
– Vad har du gjort? Stack du dig med den?
– Lite.
– <PERSON> i helvete <PERSON>, du kan ju få HIV eller gulsot eller vad fan som helst!
<PERSON> greps av panik och jag också. <PERSON> tog mitt pekfinger mellan sitt eget pekfinger och tummen och sen tryckte han och tryckte så att fingret blev alldeles blått. Han ville se om det hade gått hål. Det hade det inte. Det kom inget blod ur fingret, hur hårt pappa än tryckte. Så då hade jag väl inte fått gulsot eller HIV. Då var det väl lugnt. Det hade ju inte gått hål.
Men jag hade ont i magen hela helgen, helt säker
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min hand. Det var inte <PERSON>.
– Det kunde ha hänt vem som helst, sa <PERSON>. Nästa person som hade tagit i handtaget.
– Jag är <PERSON> sa jag till <PERSON>, <PERSON> gjorde inget speciellt det bara ploppade ur, förlåt, jag är <PERSON>
Bara för att få höra honom säga att det inte gjorde något, att det kunde ha hänt vem som helst. <PERSON> när han var på det humöret.
# MAMMA OCH GRISALISA
Min mamma föddes 1944, exakt två veckor efter min pappa, i en annan del av landet. Mamma och hennes tvillingbror Peder växte upp i en liten stuga i Lima i Dalarna, i efterkrigstidens knaperhet och den privata djurhållningens nödvändighet.
<PERSON> både hundar, katter, grisar och kalkoner. Hundarna hjälpte morfar att jaga älg, katterna höll mormor sällskap i köket. När de fick ungar sparade man en, en för katta. Resten slog man ihjäl. Grisarna göddes hela hösten och slaktades till jul. Kalkonerna åt man när det passade.
Mamma åt inte kalkonerna. När mormor anordnade kalkonfest och dukade i köket i Haakgården, <PERSON> och <PERSON> med god aptit och förvissning om hungrigare tider, satt mamma och petade med besticken bland potatisen och såsen på tallriken och mindes kluckandet på gården. Hon kunde inte äta dem. Det är svårt att äta någon som man själv har satt namn på. Det är egentligen samma sak att äta någon annan, men medvetandet hänger inte med i köttätandet.
Grisen <PERSON> följde <PERSON> och <PERSON> till skolan, som en hund följde hon dem överallt. <PERSON> slaktades ändå till jul, trots mammas hjärtskärande protester och säkerligen <PERSON>. <PERSON> har ingen identitet men mamma åt inte <PERSON>. Hon vägrade. Åt köttbullar i stället kanske, eller vad de nu åt på Haakgården på den tiden vid jul.
Så länge jag kan minnas har min mamma gjort i ordning griljerad skinka till jul. Hon kokar själv och så blandar hon ihop senapsblandningen och griljerar. Hon har en skinkpinne med ett grishuvud i glaserad lera. När jag själv var vegetarian åt jag ändå alltid lite julskinka. Den var ju så god. Den var ju redan död.
# PÅSKLOV 1992 OCH
SKRUVETS KATTER
<PERSON> hade en flickvän efter skilsmässan från mamma, den enda som jag känner till. Hon hette <PERSON> men pappa kallade henne för Skruvet. Skruva betyder knulla. Pappa och hans kompis <PERSON> brukade sjunga "Screwing, screwing, screwing" med samma melodi som <PERSON>. Screwing, screwing, screwing. <PERSON> inne i stan, inte så långt från mig och mamma. Hon jobbade på polisens hittegods och kedjerökte Blend. Hon hade två katter, en som hette <PERSON> och var <PERSON> och hade en mage som släpade i marken. En som hette <PERSON>, som hade lång päls och <PERSON> och en gång rev upp mina fingertoppar när jag skulle klappa honom.
Pappa hyste, trots det tveksamma smeknamnet, stor respekt för Inger. Jag tror inte att han älskade henne, men han respekterade henne. Ibland var hon ute i stugan, och rensade rabatter med en cigg i munnen. Hon vägde 45 kilo.
<PERSON>
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his novel speculation 'that magnetic action is progressive, and requires time', which he wrote in a sealed note to the Royal Society. The system of sealed notes, established in 1825, allowed <PERSON> to provide evidence of priority of ideas should the need arise. <PERSON> was very clear that this was his motive in writing the note, but it seems probable that he forgot about its existence (it was opened in 1937), since during 1832 he switched his attention from electro-magnetism to electro-chemistry.
**9. <PERSON>'s drawing showing the mutual orthogonality of electricity, magnetism, and motion**
### **Electro-chemistry**
This switch happened because <PERSON> wanted to show that electricity generated by magnetism was identical with that derived from other sources – static (known as common), voltaic, animal, lightning, and thermo. As this identity was challenged by his new colleague at the Royal Institution, the Professor of Natural Philosophy, <PERSON>, and also by <PERSON>, it was imperative for <PERSON>'s future research that it be established firmly. He needed to show that electricity from whatever source produced the same effects (such as electro-chemical, heating, physiological, sparks, and magnetism). He did this both by going through the literature finding those identities already established and by experimentally demonstrating others himself. He collected all this evidence together, tabulated it, showing which identities still needed to be established, and sent it to the Royal Society on 15 December 1832 as series 3 of his 'Experimental Researches' (Figure 10). His continuing concern with this issue is shown by his indicating where some gaps had been filled during the 1830s, by himself and others, when he reprinted the paper in 1839.
Table of the experimental Effects common to the Electricities derived from different Sources +.
In establishing these identities during 1832, <PERSON>, for the first time, undertook on his own account an extensive series of electrochemical experiments. Until then, his only work on electrochemistry had been assisting <PERSON>, when they were on the Continent, with <PERSON>'s successful isolation of iodine and his unsuccessful attempts to obtain electro-chemical decomposition from the electricity produced by a torpedo fish. <PERSON> may have deliberately refrained from experimenting on electro-chemistry out of a desire not to trespass, once again, on what <PERSON> would have regarded as his territory.
By 1832, circumstances had changed, and in the course of establishing the identity of electricities, <PERSON> had begun to find problems with some of <PERSON>'s theoretical views. He found that the electro-chemical action occurred not at the poles (as <PERSON> had theorized), but in the solution itself. As a consequence of this discovery, <PERSON> began to criticize the two-fluid theory of electricity and instead began to conceive electricity 'as an axis of power having contrary forces, exactly equal in amount, in contrary directions'; hence he thought that electro-chemical decomposition was 'produced by an internal corpuscular action'. In this interpretation, electro-chemical decomposition was caused by the weakening of chemical affinity in one direction which allowed particles in solution to pass out of chemical combination and move to the electric poles (Figure 11).
Furthermore, in a remarkably clever experiment performed
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['f868a8ef-0bbd-8084-73d1-f980acac5d9e']
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analogies – & remote figures respecting the earth Sun & all sorts of things'; in more precise English, he expressed this sentiment at the end of series 21. This, once again, illustrates <PERSON>'s concern with cosmic issues stemming from his painstaking laboratory experimentation.
News of <PERSON>'s discoveries spread quickly and widely, but it was unclear from early newspaper reports of an informal announcement that he made to a General Meeting of the Royal Institution what precisely he had done. For example, <PERSON> tried to claim some kind of priority, but admitted 'He who proves discovers'. To make clear what he had discovered, <PERSON> adopted two strategies during 1846. First, he sent out samples of heavy glass to a number of savants throughout Europe so that they could replicate his experiment and, second, he invited a small number of people into his basement laboratory to witness his magneto-optical experiments and later those on diamagnetism.
<PERSON> had achieved his goal of making magnetism a universal property of matter. He now saw himself in a position to argue strongly for his view of the nature of space, force, and matter. This he did in a lecture delivered in early April 1846 which included his 'Thoughts on Ray-vibrations', published in the _Philosophical Magazine_. Here he dismissed the notion of Daltonian atoms vibrating to produce light waves or radiant heat in an aether (required, by conventional physics, to transmit them). Instead, he argued that distributed throughout space were lines of force and their vibrations produced light. Where lines met, ponderable matter was observed – <PERSON> was completely clear that one could perceive ' _matter_ only by its powers'. In sum:
The view which I am so bold as to put forth considers, therefore, radiation as a high species of vibration in the lines of force which are known to connect particles and also masses of matter together. It endeavours to dismiss the aether, but not the vibrations.
In <PERSON>'s view:
The smallest atom of matter on the earth acts directly on the smallest atom of matter in the sun.
### **Magnetizing the atmosphere**
Although <PERSON> had asserted that all matter possessed magnetic properties, he had not during 1845 demonstrated that gases possessed them. Two years later, his attention was redirected towards the issue following the announcement that the Professor of Experimental Physics at Genoa University, <PERSON>, had affected the behaviour of flames by magnetism. By October 1847, <PERSON> had received a description of these experiments by <PERSON>. On 23 October, <PERSON> verified <PERSON>'s results – and later expressed surprise that he had 'failed to observe the effect years ago'. He then showed that gases, including carbon dioxide, were affected by magnetism. During the next month, <PERSON> spent two or three days a week working in the laboratory on gases, all of which he found possessed magnetic properties.
These properties, <PERSON> discovered, depended on the temperature of the gases and the gaseous medium in which the experiments were conducted. Furthermore, he could only observe the relative magnetic and diamagnetic state of gases. Of these findings the
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on the Plain of Denmark, <PERSON>'s flower-strewn mad scenes, the Ghost—a profusion of stage-effects, a mime-show of marvels. In a sense _nothing_ happens in _Hamlet_ because everything happens on the same level of interest and thus, so to speak, simultaneously. What is seen is a series of pictures, vivid, brief, isolated. <PERSON>, his mother, <PERSON> are so many shivered fragments. "A king of shreds and patches," <PERSON> says of <PERSON> in a line that has been omitted from the <PERSON> version. He might also have been speaking of himself or of the play which he gives his name to. Hypocrisy, broken faith, play-acting, imposture are the characterological norm of reeling Elsinore. The fissure between _is_ and _seems_ cracks the world open. _Hamlet_ is enigmatic because it is completely histrionic—everybody is playing a part.
This peculiar jerkiness, both in <PERSON>'s character and in the play as a whole, may be explained by the assumption, put forward by one scholar, that the play is a hasty composite of several earlier lost _Hamlets_ pieced together so haphazardly that the discordances were never noticed. The text may have been improvised to serve the needs of an acting company or it may express some interior derangement on the part of the author or, very likely, both. In any case, this unsteadiness, which is the most striking feature of _Hamlet,_ is the thing which most acted versions begin by trying to eliminate, either by "interpretation" or by a kind of glaze imparted to the diction that makes it (a) inaudible and (b) all of a piece. Sir <PERSON>'s is the only _Hamlet_ which seizes this inconsecutiveness and makes of it an image of suffering, of the failure to feel steadily, to be able to compose a continuous pattern, which is the most harrowing experience of man. Hamlet, a puzzle to himself, is seen by <PERSON> as a boy, whose immaturity is both his grace and his frailty. The uncertainty as to what is real, the disgust, the impulsiveness, the arbitrary shifts of mood, the recklessness, the high spirits, all incomprehensible in those middle-aged, speechifying Hamlets to whom our stage is habituated, here become suddenly irradiated. The play appears to be not so much a drama but a kind of initiation ceremony, barbaric like all such rituals, in which the novice is killed.
Already, in his first scene, <PERSON> is grieving for the death of his father, but woodenly, uncomprehendingly, bitterly, as a child grieves who refuses to countenance that such things can happen in the world. The <PERSON>'s appearance is to him almost an adventure. He rushes down from his interview full of jokes and wildness; his boredom is gone—at last he has something to do. But the <PERSON>'s commission is not really Quixotic. The enterprise loses its zest with <PERSON>'s recognition that it is an actual man he must kill, his uncle, whom he knows very well, a sleazy piece of the old, tedious reality. Bored, sullen, and angry, he diverts himself by tormenting <PERSON>, whom he suspects of being One of Them. He baits her
|
d375901a-5dfe-75a4-835d-4596fbd52fe9
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see that it was at best a pleasant bit of legerdemain. _Caesar,_ however, is still thought of as an important production. This is not the first play of <PERSON>'s to have been done in modern dress, and superficially, therefore, Mr. <PERSON>'s stunt of taking the Romans out of their togas does not sound as novel as on the stage it seems. What is novel about the production is Mr. <PERSON>'s motive for putting it in modern dress. In the past, when _Hamlet,_ for example, was done by <PERSON> in a dinner jacket, the motive was, apparently, to say something about Hamlet, to show how modern a character he is. The purpose of the Mercury Theatre _Caesar,_ on the contrary, was to say something about the modern world, to use <PERSON>'s characters to drive home the horrors and inanities of present-day fascism. _Caesar,_ in fact, was Mr. <PERSON>'s personal acknowledgment of the bankruptcy of contemporary playwriting, for in _Caesar_ Mr. <PERSON> as director tried to construct a modern play of his own: an anti-fascist melodrama in which <PERSON> figures as a proto-<PERSON> and <PERSON> as a fighting Progressive.
Only a very superficial understanding of <PERSON>'s play could have permitted Mr. <PERSON> to entertain this notion for long. _Julius Caesar_ is about the tragic consequences that befall idealism when it attempts to enter the sphere of action. It is perhaps also a comment on the futility and dangerousness of action in general. In a nonpolitical sense it is a "liberal" play, for it has three heroes, <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and <PERSON>, of whom <PERSON> is the most large-souled and sympathetic. <PERSON>'s "liberal" formula, which insists on playing fair with all its characters, is obviously in fearful discord with Mr. <PERSON>'s antifascist formula, which must have heroes and villains at all costs. The production of _Caesar,_ consequently, turns into a battleground between Mr. <PERSON>'s play and <PERSON>'s play. Mr. <PERSON> has cut the play to pieces; he has very nearly eliminated the whole sordid tragic business of the degeneration and impotence of the republican forces; he has turned the rather shady <PERSON> into a shrewd and jovial comedian whose heart is in the right place; he has made <PERSON>, whose political stature gave the play dignity and significance, into a mechanical, expressionless robot; he has transformed the showy, romantic, buccaneering <PERSON> into a repulsive and sinister demagogue. If he could do all this and still come out with a play that was consistent and uniformly forceful, the experiment might be forgivable. There were some things, however, which could not be cut or distorted, and these by their very incongruous presence, destroyed the totality of the play's effect. The most prominent of these unassimilated chunks of <PERSON> was <PERSON>'s final speech ("This was the noblest Roman of them all"—too famous, doubtless, to be cut), which in the mouth of the black-shirt monster of the <PERSON> production seemed an unconvincing and even tasteless tribute to the memory of <PERSON>.
The Mercury Theatre _Caesar,_ it goes without saying, had virtues that are lacking in the ordinary Shakespearean revival.
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|
places in the world, band societies snowballed into larger tribal societies – perhaps to exchange information, goods and brides – comprising different clan groups that were nevertheless still fiercely egalitarian. Such social coalescence may have seeded the beginnings of a more hierarchical set-up, because larger societies create opportunities for trade. People who traded successfully – agriculture, as we'll see in the next chapter, provided the perfect opportunity for early salesmanship – would have accumulated more resources than others. This wealth would have afforded them more influence in the public sphere, because others would have looked up to these figures, called Big Men, endowed with economic prowess.
Big Men first emerged in places like Polynesia and Papua New Guinea, the North Pacific and parts of sub-Saharan Africa; in some regions, the Big Man still exists. According to anthropologist <PERSON>, whose studies of ethnographic accounts of tribes in such places as Papua New Guinea did much to develop the idea of the Big Man, this character is 'reminiscent of the free-enterprising rugged individual of our own heritage. He combines with an ostensible interest in the general welfare a more profound measure of self-interested cunning and economic calculation.' Thanks largely to <PERSON>, the term Big Man entered anthropology; he observed that it was a loose translation for 'leader' in many local languages. It is worth noting that the term is still used elastically, with some scholars ascribing the title only to heads of individual tribes rather than clusters of tribes. We shall be magnanimous in our definition, and employ it to describe a man of benevolence who exerts influence over one tribe or a small group of tribes (we'll see in the next chapter that tribes grew in size as foraging gave way to agriculture).
The tribal societies governed by Big Men were largely flat and their influence was very limited. For instance, a difference in wealth acquisition was tolerated only if the whole community benefited. A Big Man was expected to redistribute his wealth through giving gifts and lavishing favours on his extended family. Some primitive societies even introduced gambling in order to spread the riches more evenly; the Big Men would play until they were cleaned out. The anthropologist <PERSON> wrote of the Wape, a tribal society that dwell in the West Sepik region of Papua New Guinea: 'A man will not tolerate a situation where a neighbour has more than he has. A man should not possess either goods or power to the disadvantage of others.' <PERSON> would later write a paper entitled 'The defeat of hierarchy: gambling as exchange in a Sepik society', about the Wape's unusual means of ironing out financial differences.
In native cultures in the Pacific North-West, such as those of the Haida and Tlingit, wealth redistribution used to take the form of a ceremony called the potlatch, in which a Big Man of one tribal village would simply give away valuable gifts and goods such as canoes to neighbouring villagers. By showcasing such wealth and generosity, usually to mark special occasions such as a birth
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c480df41-101b-4a19-5b19-6276144faa7e
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['f9a8277b-24a8-f34d-02e7-e818142be14c']
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<PERSON>, an appropriately influential psychologist in the study of influence, is the foot-in-the-door technique, in which the leader starts off making small requests and then follows up with more exacting demands. In this favoured modus operandi of terrorist organisations and religious cults, the commitment dial gets cranked up relatively gradually; minor activities such as distributing leaflets slowly escalate into more extreme actions, such as renouncing friends and family. The follower acquiesces more out of consistency with previous actions than any deep desire to make the requested sacrifice.
Even corporations can begin to behave like cults. The most startling revelation in _The Devil's Casino_ , an account of the 2008 downfall of Lehman Brothers, was the cult-like loyalty demanded of the bank's senior executives and their wives. Spouses were expected to dress in a certain way, support the same charities, join company vacations and keep quiet about marital troubles. The culture was never questioned, even when one wife was pressured into leaving her sick child's bedside to go on a company outing. The financial services behemoth subsequently became one of the largest bankruptcies in American history.
Another way to shift commitment levels is by obtaining a follower's agreement to a specific task – such as attendance at a political meeting – and then changing the terms of the arrangement (e.g. 'If you want to attend this political meeting you must become a party member'). A third way is through temptation: for example, telling followers they will be paid for distributing leaflets at a political rally. Once they have committed – well, wouldn't you just know it? There's simply not enough money to pay everyone so would you mind volunteering? Finally, flattery is surprisingly effective: a smart leader will describe his followers in glowing terms – 'you are all fantastic, understanding employees' – and then, after deploying this labelling technique, ask them to take a pay cut. And why do most of us fall for this trick? Because nobody wants to look like a bad employee.
There are, however, gaps in these analyses of followership. They point out that followers show different levels of commitment to a cause – but neglect the fact that the nature of what is being followed varies. What is it that followers are trying to achieve? What are their motives? What differentiates first followers from those that come on to the scene later? Are they trying to be good group members (to foster cohesion)? Are they following in the hope of one day jockeying for power (to become a leader)? Or are they following because, in the absence of the capacity to lead, they are left with no option but to follow?
As we saw earlier in this chapter, evolutionary leadership theory gives three reasons for followership: group cohesion, uncertainty (not knowing which is the poisonous mushroom) and the possibility of emulation. These provide adaptive justifications for followership (in other words, followership in these situations makes the person more likely to have offspring). And so the mode of followership depends not just on commitment level, but also on the
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2d4566c2-5d2e-5320-3ffe-899c8ab331b8
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['f9acb76f-2d15-f5ff-8c62-252eec3bfca0']
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thin dry skin
a herd of rattles overtakes me
LETTER TO SIR <PERSON>
Dear <PERSON>: I'm still here and halfbreed,
after all these years
you're dead, funny thing,
that railway you wanted so badly,
there was talk a year ago
of shutting it down
and part of it was shut down,
the dayliner at least,
'from sea to shining sea,'
and you know, <PERSON>,
after all that shuffling us around to suit the settlers,
we're still here and Métis.
We're still here
after Meech Lake and
one no-good-for-nothin-Indian
holdin-up-the-train,
stalling the '<PERSON> syllables / Nouns of settlement,
/. . . steel syntax [ and ] / The long sentence of its exploitation'1
and <PERSON>, that goddamned railroad never made this a great nation,
cause the railway shut down
and this country is still quarreling over unity,
and <PERSON> is dead
but he just keeps coming back
in all the <PERSON> yet to speak out of turn or favour
because you know as well as I
that we were railroaded
by some steel tracks that didn't last
and some settlers who wouldn't settle
and it's funny we're still here and callin ourselves halfbreed.
* * *
1 <PERSON>, "Laurentian Shield."
STILL UNSAVED SOUL
If I hear one more word
about your Christian God
I'm gonna howl
I'm gonna crawl outta my 'heathen'
skin and trick you
into believing I am the Virgin
Mary and take you bed.
If I hear one more line
about your white church
I'm gonna start sitting and dancing
with all my 'false gods'
in a giveaway dance and honour
you with all the 'unclean' sheets from my bed.
If I hear one more blessed thought
or witness one more holy act
I'm gonna throw up
thirty-five years of communion hosts
from this still unsaved soul.
FIREFLIES
1. I have since reconsidered <PERSON>
and the Great White Way of writing English
standard that is
the Great White Way
has measured, judged and assessed me all my life
by its
lily-white words
its picket-fence sentences
and manicured paragraphs
one wrong sound and you're shelved in the Native Literature section
resistance writing
a mad Indian
unpredictable
on the war path
native ethnic protest
the Great White Way could silence us all
if we let it
it's had its hand over my mouth since my first day of school
since <PERSON> and <PERSON>, ABCs and fingernail checks
syntactic laws: use the wrong order or
register and you're a dumb Indian
dumb, drunk or violent
my father doesn't read or write
the King's English says he's
dumb but he speaks Cree
how many of you speak Cree?
correct Cree not correct English
grammatically correct Cree
is there one?
2. is there a Received Pronunciation of Cree, is there
a Modern Cree Usage?
the Chief's Cree not the King's English
as if violating God the Father and standard English
is like talking back(wards)
as if speaking the devil's language is
talking back
back(words)
back to your mother's sound, your mother's tongue, your mother's language
back to that clearing in
|
d40e0182-83b4-6ed1-1187-e29ec6bb93cf
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['f9acb76f-2d15-f5ff-8c62-252eec3bfca0']
|
back to pulling into the round, space in the curve of, the curl of your belly bow, in the curl of your body-belly, arms and legs, a bowl of smooth brown wood, older than the memory of itself, itself changing, recomposing, petals drop to allow the stamen / stamina to fill out space in the positive
pulling back to pulling round space in the curl of the body-belly, arms and legs curve a bowl of smooth brown wood, older than the memory of itself, the memory of itself changing
YOU ONLY KNOW AFTER
open door, opening wider to warm air, a sound so calm it opens your pores, skin pours out into light, sun falling on the warm last day
there is something thankful about events that take place without plan, without thought of just opens like a letter from a deep friend, opens like your eyes every morning, like a curtain unfolding the day and you only think of it as you lift the cup of coffee to your lips, as you slow your steps at a corner, you only know you've changed after, after you turn off the light and you find yourself back in bed, in your familiar hollow
or after you sit quiet and know that something inside has after walking down the same street you've walked countless times only this time tracing every line in the sidewalk, every reflection, every angle of the glass in the store window is new, every face profound and familiar
after the voices inside retire, after they have stopped talking, after they listen, when they finally hear the sound between after they go quiet and turn their heads to the sound that suspends you over the same ground you stepped before, over the same path and wooden steps you sounded down before
after passing through the same door to your home, after the song is over you hear it hanging in the air like clothes on a line
MY MOTHER'S ARMS
gentle giant in my head
warm me.
gentle giant in my bed
soothe me,
bathe me in love,
in light from your eyes
warm as my mother's eyes at night
in sight of birch trees
young and white
as I am old
in my mother's arms.
GUILT IS AN EROSION
of self, a cleansing
a rock in a slide
ground down
wedged, crushed, scraped
against rock
against ice
a filing
a polishing
what remains is cold
black shiny
granite
perfect palm size
NOT JUST A PLATFORM FOR MY DANCE
this land is not
just a place to set my house my car my fence
this land is not
just a plot to bury my dead my seed
this land is
my tongue my eyes my mouth
this headstrong grass and relenting willow
these flat-footed fields and applauding leaves
these frank winds and electric sky
are my prayer
they are my medicine
and they become my song
this land is not
just a platform for my dance
ONE DAY IN MAY
a photographer exposed you
making a late night phone call
from
|
478bf22f-7f3e-8a1a-a607-003b31ec037a
|
['fa9aeee1-3202-71fe-21b8-78726dc4099f']
|
with Sufism. <PERSON> gave the _futuwwa_ an official and aristocratic character. Seeking to win the support of neighboring Muslim dynasties, he named <PERSON> the "Grand Master of the Sufis" and sent him off as an ambassador. His enterprise would not come to fruition, however, because at the beginning of the thirteenth century the Mongols swept into the eastern territories.
The fall of Baghdad in 1258 put an end to the Abbasid Empire. It spelled the end of a Sunni world that was relatively homogeneous and powerful and in which Muslims lived in safety. But the collapse of the traditional religious structures would reinforce the authority of the Sufi shaykhs. The spiritual fellowships which had come into existence then offered a place for solidarity and a vision of the world which transcended the vicissitudes of history. After the fall of the caliphate, only the networks of Sufis could maintain any sort of unity in the eastern territories of Islam, and though the Persian world survived the Mongolian holocaust, it was due to the spiritual culture which inhabited it. In addition, several Mongolian princes, who reigned from then on in the Middle East and Central Asia, converted to Islam under the aegis of Sufi shaykhs.69
### The Formation of the "Initiatory Paths" (Tarīqa)
During the first centuries of Islam, the word _tarīqa_ indicated the spiritual method followed by such or such a mystic.70 The "path," or method, prescribed by <PERSON> in the tenth century was still well known. According to the Master from Baghdad, the aspirant must remain in a state of purity according to the Law; he must fast, observe silence, make retreats, repeat the formula _Lā ilāha illā 'Llāh_ , be inwardly connected to his shaykh, reject extrinsic thoughts, etc. Starting in the twelfth century, the word _tarīqa_ also indicated a "particular initiatory path." At that time, some masters started to attract disciples who would stay with them for long periods of time; they also formed networks for initiatory transmission. Several spiritual fellowships were formed, each suggesting a specific route towards God. Little by little, the initiatory, individual "method" thus yielded its place to the spiritual community. But until the fifteenth century, and often even up to the nineteenth century, the latter did not have a fixed structure. Even today, a _tarīqa_ seems more like a nebula, a cosmic cloud with hazy outlines that radiates outwards, than an institutionalized religious order.
The eponymous saints of the nascent paths were above all trustees of an initiatory heritage which they infused with their own personalities. Though they may have fashioned schools of spirituality, most of them did not intend to found a mystical order. Like the first masters, they trained beginners and formulated their own teachings, and they sometimes gave rules for living, as well. It would be their principal disciples who would set down and bring to fruition their spiritual legacies by establishing these as models. By doing this, they ensured the transmission of initiation within the different _tarīqas_. The hagiographic literature also was to contribute to the development of a spirit of
|
b71b98ac-8b47-c684-6169-62753b1b7247
|
['fa9aeee1-3202-71fe-21b8-78726dc4099f']
|
rite, was also behind a pious movement that strictly adhered to scriptural sources. According to many sources, he spoke in praise of Sufis such as <PERSON> and <PERSON>, whom he consulted on difficult questions. He spoke against <PERSON> (d. 857), considering him to be too predisposed to psychological introspection and the use of dialectical reasoning, but he secretly listened to him and then thanked him for his remarks. He enjoined others to "approach knowledge from above," and gave great credence to spiritual visions and miracles, as well as to the esoteric hierarchy of saints (he referred several times to this hierarchy, the _abdāl_ ). He has been credited with making the following suggestion to his son: "Seek the company of the Sufis, because they surpass us in knowledge, self-control, and spiritual energy."20
These four imams lived more than ten centuries ago, and the distortions due to the passage of time make it so that their points of view sometimes appear contradictory to us. For example, <PERSON> at times seems to approve of group gatherings for _dhikr_ , and hostile at other times. In any event, these imams did not denounce Sufism, whereas they criticized, for example, rational theology ( _kalām_ ). But, if they displayed an openness to nascent mysticism, why didn't they write anything on spiritual—as opposed to simply religious—life? <PERSON> (sixteenth century) replied that the Muslims of the first centuries, because of their proximity to the prophetic period, did not yet need such writings. For his part, <PERSON> (twentieth century) observed that the imams were not able to reveal the esoteric side of their scholarly temperaments.21
Bibliography
<PERSON>, "Remarques sur le développement historique des mouvements ascétiques et mystiques au Khurasan," _Studia Islamica_ , n° XLVI, 1977, pp. 5-72.
<PERSON>, _La Passion de Hallāj_ (Paris, 1975). (English edition: _The Pas-_ _sion of al-Hallaj_ , four vols. [Princeton University Press, 1982].)
<PERSON>, _Les Dits de Bistāmī_ (Paris, 1989).
<PERSON>, _Le livre Tawasin de Hallaj_ (Paris, 2007).
Sulami, _La Lucidité implacable. Épître des Hommes du Blâme_ , translated into French by <PERSON> (Paris, 1999).
## THE CENTURIES OF MATURATION (Tenth-Twelfth Centuries)
### Legal Scholars, Traditionnists, Sufis: Assertion of Identities
Starting in the ninth century, the men of religion divided themselves into three groups: on the exoteric side there were the legal scholars ( _fuqahā'_ ) and the specialists in the prophetic Tradition ( _ashāb al-hadīth_ ), and on the esoteric side there were Muslim spiritual adepts or seekers—who were being called "Sufis" more and more often. All were claiming to be "learned" people, whom the <PERSON> had said would be the successors of the prophets. They did not belong to domains that were distinct from each other because the majority of Sufis, even Hallāj, had solid backgrounds in religious fields of knowledge. But a certain distance grew up between them: the specialists in _Hadīth_ reproached many spiritual seekers for their lack of competence in this discipline and for exploiting it for their own benefit; the legal scholars did not always understand an
|
87009a57-b183-fbe9-c9a2-4a07cd670727
|
['fa9d780d-4415-3084-0847-4cc12d79a9e0']
|
sameness that might have given <PERSON> pause. <PERSON> and <PERSON> had already settled on their future wives and careers (medicine, business), while <PERSON>—after years of spieling about <PERSON> et al.—had even found God. <PERSON> was perhaps a little bemused by <PERSON>'s revelation, to say nothing of the news that <PERSON> had resolved his own perplexities by deciding to become a clergyman.
"Your news is great news," wrote the good Mr. <PERSON> of Halifax on June 14, five days before <PERSON> was discharged at Fort Dix with a Good Conduct Medal and the rank of private first class. "Now you will be able to stretch that long length of yours, and, craning up to the topmost sky-scraper, exclaim, 'Now wot?'" Now wot indeed.
* * *
<PERSON>'s permanent address on his honorable discharge is "High Hedges, St. James L.I., New York," and it was there that he was welcomed back from the war by <PERSON>, <PERSON>, and the <PERSON> clan. High Hedges was the eight-acre estate bought by <PERSON> parents in 1916 for their retirement, though at the time it had no such imposing name. In fact the former North Shore golf course was rather weedy and nondescript; <PERSON> himself had designed the sixteen-room, white clapboard main house as well as a three-bedroom cottage originally built for his mother's widowhood (where <PERSON> and <PERSON> had lived since the birth of their second child). For many years after he'd inherited the place, <PERSON> had rented it out while he and his family lived in England, and the name "High Hedges" is said to have been the whim of a tenant struck by the overgrowth of Oriental vines planted years before by <PERSON>'s green-thumbed mother. But The Easter Parade suggests another possibility: "Does it have a name?" <PERSON> asks <PERSON>. "You know, the way estates have names." "Overgrown Hedges," <PERSON> proposes as a joke, which <PERSON> earnestly refines into "Great Hedges": "That's what I'm going to call it, anyway.... 'Great Hedges,' St. Charles, Long Island, New York."
Be that as it may, <PERSON>'s homecoming at High Hedges seems to have been a rather dismal affair—though one can imagine (assisted by a similar scene in A Special Providence) <PERSON>'s elation on being reunited with her cherished son and soul mate: "Her frizzled gray head scarcely came up to his breast-pocket flap and she was frail as a sparrow, but the force of her love was so great that he had to brace himself in a kind of boxer's stance to absorb it." The others were more restrained, but went out of their way to be nice, and indeed <PERSON> seemed badly in need of their niceness. "He moped around the whole time," <PERSON>'s sister-in-law <PERSON> remembered. "He was very depressed—didn't know what to do with his life." That was undoubtedly true, though <PERSON>'s uncertain future wasn't the only thing likely to depress him. <PERSON>, now fifty-four and hunched with osteoporosis, was again facing destitution now that her son was out of the army. For the time being she was dependent
|
22381fc4-aeef-055f-f0ad-233ebc495749
|
['fa9d780d-4415-3084-0847-4cc12d79a9e0']
|
Television Theatre"; posted at <http://www.museum.tv/eotvsection.php?entrycode=krafttelevis>.
"One very obvious problem": <PERSON>, "Radio's Popularity Increasing Despite Inroads of Television," _Kokomo Tribune_ (A.P.), July 21, 1955, 12.
"one of the greatest of contemporary": <PERSON> to Kraft executive personnel, Feb. 20, 1956, Duke.
"I'm so involved with a job": CJ to SJP (c. June 26, 1956), JFC.
"He was a forgotten, sad man": Author int. <PERSON>, March 7, 2009.
"<PERSON> said 'Gosh, I didn't know' ": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, Sept. 23, 1958, JFC.
"The implication was that he _didn't_ ": Author int. <PERSON>, April 8, 2009.
"Never, I think, has the just": <PERSON> to <PERSON> (c. 1955), Syracuse.
"because I lack so much": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, Aug. 1, 1952, Syracuse.
"Let Us Dare to Say It Out Loud": Quoted in <PERSON>, _The Magazine Maze_ (Garden City, NY: Doubleday & Co., 1980), 53.
"would charm me less": <PERSON>, "To the Heart of the Times," _New York Times Book Review,_ Sept. 19, 1954, 4.
"But not in Larchmont!": Author int. <PERSON>, Aug. 20, 2008.
"Be sure to tell Mama": DS- _Show,_ 89.
"How much larger your life": Quoted in CJ to <PERSON>, Feb. 1, 1956, <PERSON>.
"It was during a troubled period": CJ to <PERSON>, Aug. 5, 1964, <PERSON>.
"Please do _not_ throw cigarettes": <PERSON>, unpublished ms., courtesy of the author.
"<PERSON> was my closest friend": Author int. <PERSON>, March 25, 2009.
"I hate to think I was": E-mail from <PERSON> to author, Feb. 15, 2010.
"In the fifties you could know": Author int. <PERSON>, April 8, 2009.
the "star pupils" of their meetings: <PERSON>, _The New York Diary of Ned Rorem_ (New York: George Braziller, 1967), 145.
"clear-faced and likable" daughter: <PERSON> to <PERSON>, July 15, 1996, courtesy of <PERSON>.
_"What_ a break that would be": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, July 4, 1964, <PERSON>.
"Whatever happens": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, Dec. 5, 1964, <PERSON>.
"the frustrations, the anxieties": Quoted in "William Inge, Playwright, Is Dead," _New York Times,_ June 11, 1973, 38.
"<PERSON> was like that too": Author int. <PERSON>, July 6, 2009.
"restimulate interest": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, et al., Feb. 8, 1956, Duke.
a given show "didn't misstep": Author int. <PERSON>, Dec. 8, 2009.
"recipe for an average TV program": "Early 'Recipe' Reveals TV's Darker Side," _60_ _Years of Advertising on TV;_ posted at <http://www.tvweek.com/2008/04/23/TVAdSpread3.pdf>.
"most advantageous connection": Memo from <PERSON> to <PERSON>, et al., April 3, 1957, <PERSON>.
"adequate (just) but not inspired": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, May 16, 1957, Duke.
"floors sag, practically no closet space": RBJ to FSJ, Sept. 26 (1957), <PERSON>.
"<PERSON> carried [my father]": SJP, "My Personality Shaped by Social Interaction / A Life History Paper," paper written for sociology class at Connecticut College, dated Dec. 17, 1958, <PERSON>.
"Such titles as 'Climax' ": <PERSON> to <PERSON>, May 16, 1957, Duke.
"readjustment, with the help of AA": RBJ to <PERSON>, Dec. 10, 1958, JFC.
"It's just a coincidence that we are both":
|
715639c4-afa6-b284-38f9-1430382e02ad
|
['fb20cac3-fe3e-1af8-ab5b-7fcaec96fde6']
|
walked among the graduating classes and, in a tone that was both challenging and encouraging, said, 'This is the school of Mrs <PERSON>, and it accepts nothing less than a one hundred per cent success rate.'
These were our last days with Mrs <PERSON> and Mrs <PERSON> in our secondary school, in which we lived through some hard times. They coincided with the years of the sanctions, which deprived us of coloured notebooks and new books. The sanctions placed before our eyes the picture of a future open to possibilities, all of which were unhappy. The familiar faces of our childhood disappeared from their seats in the classroom. <PERSON> left us. So did <PERSON>, <PERSON> and <PERSON>. Absence took many faces away amid the tears. Many names disembarked from the train of our school at many different stops. Someone would disappear, and her absence would linger until the news came that she had emigrated with her family.
Emigration became the defining social characteristic for those who left. The students who stayed felt envy for their classmates who crossed the borders, whose feet touched the ground of a new life, and who breathed the perfume of a new world. Those friends left for cold cities while we disintegrated where we were, living our days of dust with frozen smiles.
## 22
<PERSON> went ahead and asked for <PERSON>'s hand in marriage. Her family assented without the least hesitation. Folk music was performed in the large garden of their house. Candied nuts and other sweets poured down like rain on our heads.
<PERSON> was the first of the dancers. This was one of his surprises that we had grown used to. From the first note of the large trumpet that a member of the traditional musical troupe had brought, <PERSON> lifted himself up on his hind legs and began jumping around joyfully in a circle as he wagged his white tail. The musicians were astonished by the sight, something they had never encountered in their work throughout Baghdad's neighbourhoods. When they found that those present did not comment on this strange occurrence, they continued playing, and <PERSON> continued his delightful dance, which we began to imitate.
The young women went forward, followed by the boys. They moved with a fierce exuberance, for such a long time had passed without happy occasions coming our way that our feet had almost forgotten how to dance. When <PERSON> saw that the circle had filled with dancers, he brought his front paws down to the ground, lifted his tail over his back, and withdrew without anyone noticing him. He slipped away and reappeared on top of the garden's outer wall and began dancing by himself, watched from the rooftops by cats that were dying with laughter.
A sense of happiness spread everywhere, and spirits relaxed into a sense of joy. The music continued beyond the normal stopping time for this kind of event. Nearly everyone danced, with the exception of <PERSON>, who went up to her room after <PERSON> put the engagement ring on her finger. All alone,
|
970a14a4-8d5d-7dba-2583-4a7ea393c9e5
|
['fb20cac3-fe3e-1af8-ab5b-7fcaec96fde6']
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the inside cover, which reflected light as though it were a mirror. My lips looked normal, and there was not any trace of the kiss on them. I went to the deputy head and apologised for my tardiness. She was busy at the time with a pedagogy supervisor who was visiting the school and interrupted me with a gesture to go, so I went to class and sat beside <PERSON>, who was laughing. I brought my mouth close to her ear and said, 'I have a secret!'
'What?'
'I'm not saying.'
'Tell me!'
I placed a finger over my lips and said, '<PERSON> kissed me!'
<PERSON> smiled with all her heart and said, 'What took you so long?'
'Oh my god, <PERSON>!'
## 20
Uncle <PERSON> was sent into retirement from his job at the central bank. He no longer had any work to get up for early in the morning. No reason to start the motor of his old car and head off for the day.
He now had a lot of time he did not need. He got up early in the morning but then remembered that he had nowhere to go. He went back and lay his head on the pillow but did not fall asleep.
Getting up again, he went into the kitchen to make breakfast, which he ate while listening to old Iraqi music on the radio, something he had become used to doing every day in his Volkswagen on his way to work.
Uncle <PERSON> opened his front gate, stepped halfway out into the street, and smiled at the children on their way to school. Interlacing his hands behind his back, he walked in his pyjamas to the end of the street. He did not know whether he ought to feel any embarrassment because he no longer had any work to do at that hour of the day. Yes. The feeling was getting to him. He was a man with no use. From that day onwards, no one would bring him important papers connected to the movement of currency in the central bank.
Dozens of files had been placed on his desk nearly every day for him to sign after inspecting them to confirm they contained no errors. In recent years, the official papers he had to sign had started running short. He was disgusted by the cash that piled up in high stacks. The currency and its value changed. The paper bills were exchanged for new ones that smelled different. Coins began disappearing: the quarter dinar went away, then the half dinar. Then the dinar itself. The Iraqi dinar disappeared and became a memory from a different time.
He bent his head again in shame when he realised he had gone out into the street in his pyjamas. It was the first time in his life he had done that. He went in and closed the gate. Sitting on his chair in the middle of the garden, he took his retirement letter out of the pocket in which he had put it the night before.
|
5184bb1a-8240-1413-a11a-b61415da03c5
|
['fb4250f6-fd34-1c36-f1bf-2d56564786e5']
|
14 mg
Sodium: 18 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 22 g
Dietary Fiber: 7 g
Sugars: 6 g
Protein: 9 g
Iron: 2 mg
**Macronutrient Breakdown**
51% Carbohydrates
19% Protein
30% Fat
### Sun-Dried Tomato Hummus
8 servings
_ingredients_
1 cup (250 ml) no-salt-added chickpeas, cooked
2 sun-dried tomatoes
1 teaspoon (5 ml) fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon (15 ml) olive oil
1 tablespoon (15 ml) rice vinegar
2 tablespoons (30 ml) water
Sea salt, to taste (optional)
_steps_
Purée all ingredients using either a food processor or a handheld blender. Refrigerate in an airtight container.
**_Cooking Tip:_** Enjoy hummus as a dip with your favorite vegetables and as a spread on your favorite bread, crackers, or baked low-sodium chips.
_To make your own sundried tomatoes, peel and slice ripe, firm Roma tomatoes. Add basil, cover with cheesecloth, and place in the sun for 1 to 2 days._
_<PERSON> adds protein and fiber to your diet._
Nutrients per serving:
Calories: 47
Total Fats: 2 g
Saturated Fat: 0 g
Trans Fat: 0 g
Cholesterol: 0 mg
Sodium: 13 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 5 g
Dietary Fiber: 1 g
Sugars: 1 g
Protein: 2 g
Iron: 0.5 mg
**Macronutrient Breakdown**
44% Carbohydrates
18% Protein
38% Fat
### Edamame Avocado Dip
8 servings
_ingredients_
1 1/2 cups (375 ml) frozen edamame, shelled
1/4 avocado, peeled and pit removed
1 tablespoon (15 ml) pimentoes
1 clove garlic
2 teaspoons (10 ml) fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons (45 ml) water
1/8 teaspoon (0.5 ml) sea salt
_steps_
Purée all ingredients using either a food processor or a handheld blender. Refrigerate in an airtight container.
_Edamame are green immature soybeans picked in their pods before ripening._
Nutrients per serving:
Calories: 43
Total Fats: 2 g
Saturated Fat: 0 g
Trans Fat: 0 g
Cholesterol: 0 mg
Sodium: 46 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 3 g
Dietary Fiber: 2 g
Sugars: 1 g
Protein: 3 g
Iron: 1 mg
**Macronutrient Breakdown**
29% Carbohydrates
29% Protein
42% Fat
### Fudgy Black Bean Brownies
Makes 16 brownies
_ingredients_
1 (15-ounce) (425-g) can no-salt-added black beans, drained and rinsed
3 large eggs
3 tablespoons (45 ml) canola oil
3/4 cup (175 ml) granulated sugar
1/2 cup (125 ml) unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon (2 ml) baking powder
1/2 cup (125 ml) mini semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
_steps_
1. Preheat the oven to 350° F (180° C). Spray an 8- x 8-inch (20- x 20-cm) baking pan with nonstick cooking spray.
2. Place black beans in the bowl of a food processor and process until smooth and creamy.
3. Add the eggs, oil, sugar, cocoa powder, and vanilla.
4. Add 1/4 cup (60 ml) chocolate chips and pulse a few times until the chips are incorporated.
5. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, smooth the top with a rubber spatula, and sprinkle with the remaining 1/4 cup (60 ml) chocolate chips.
6. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the edges start to pull away from the sides of the pan and a toothpick inserted in the center
|
4747d83f-05ed-bd30-7a88-1a0eaa25652b
|
['fb4250f6-fd34-1c36-f1bf-2d56564786e5']
|
1/2 teaspoon (2 ml) almond extract
1 3/4 cups (425 ml) all-purpose flour
1/3 cup (75 ml) unsweetened cocoa powder
3/4 cup (175 ml) granulated sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon (1 ml) salt
3/4 cup whole almonds, toasted
_steps_
1. Preheat the oven to 300° F (150° C). Coat a baking sheet with nonstick cooking oil spray and set aside.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together eggs, orange peel, vanilla, and almond extract.
3. In a large bowl, combine flour, cocoa powder, sugar, baking soda, and salt. Add egg mixture and mix just until blended. Stir in almonds.
4. Divide dough in half and form into logs about 12 inches (30 cm) long. Bake in the center of the oven, for about 50 minutes, until set and crisp around the edges. Remove to a wire rack and cool for 5 minutes.
5. Reduce heat to 275° F (135° C). Place logs on a cutting board and, with a serrated knife, cut on the diagonal into slices 1/2-inch (1-cm) thick. Lay slices flat on the prepared baking sheet, spacing slightly apart.
6. Return to oven and bake, turning once, until dry and lightly toasted, about 20 to 25 minutes. Place on racks to cool completely. Store in an airtight container.
_Almonds are high in monounsaturated fats, the same fats found in olive oil that keep the bad cholesterol down._
_Almonds are rich in vitamin E, an antioxidant that promotes cardiovascular health._
_One handful of nuts a day decreases the risk for heart disease._
Nutrients per serving:
Calories: 143
Total Fat: 5 g
Saturated Fat: 1 g
Trans Fat: 0 g
Cholesterol: 35 mg
Sodium: 93 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 21 g
Dietary Fiber: 2 g
Sugars: 10 g
Protein: 4 g
Iron: 1 mg
**Macronutrient Breakdown**
58% Carbohydrates
11% Protein
31% Fat
### Chocolate Walnut Meringues
24 servings
_ingredients_
3 egg whites
Pinch of salt
3/4 cup (175 ml) granulated sugar
1/2 cup (125 ml) good quality Dutch cocoa powder
1/3 cup (75 ml) finely chopped walnuts
_steps_
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (180° C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Place egg whites and salt in a large stainless steel mixing bowl. Beat with an electric beater or by hand with a wire whisk until they form soft peaks.
3. Gradually add sugar until peaks stiffen.
4. Sift cocoa over peaks and fold in with walnuts.
5. Spoon mounds about 1 inch (2 cm) in diameter and about 1 inch (2 cm) apart onto the prepared baking sheet.
6. Bake for 20 minutes, or until dry to the touch. Let cool completely before removing from baking sheet.
_Walnuts, rich in omega-3s called ALAs, promote heart health in a variety of ways. They reduce bad cholesterol and decrease platelet clotting and inflammation._
_Walnuts are rich in magnesium and potassium, minerals that help maintain healthy blood pressure._
Nutrients per serving:
Calories: 41
Total Fat: 1 g
Saturated Fat: 0 g
Trans Fat: 0 g
Cholesterol: 0 mg
Sodium: 14 mg
Total Carbohydrates: 7 g
Dietary Fiber:
|
cb70ae0e-6c61-2fb6-0418-7883a5a82b1b
|
['fc1ca772-b065-1331-e0e9-6db21696f5a6']
|
is the proud and romantic tale of Canadian invention: the first wrapped chocolate bar, the first heart-shaped Valentine box of chocolates. The other story, not so romantic, is the history of these production companies' primarily female workforces. Low wages and paternalistic monitoring of their female workers' behaviour—both on the job and off—were typical at Moirs and Ganong. At Paulins, unionization may have assisted female workers, but not even a supportive manager like <PERSON> could save their jobs in the face of global competition. At these chocolate factories, the romantic myth of the product masked the harsh realities of the production process.
Success in candy making is difficult, and always has been. In Newfoundland, Browning Harvey tried to play catch-up to Purity for decades before abandoning the field to them. Cavalier has managed to continue by producing their own specialties and through private-label manufacturing. The future of Scott-Bathgate, one of the oldest firms in Canada, is questionable. The variation in production facilities in this snack category is wide, ranging from the backyard machine shed of Robertson's in small-town Nova Scotia to the large collection of downtown urban buildings of Scott-Bathgate in Winnipeg. In all its variations, candy production remains skilled labour, employing techniques largely unchanged over a century.
The memories of _Kids Bids_ contestants, finally, reveal that marketing to children is not always simply the manipulative practice that it appears at face value. _Kids Bids,_ a program created to market potato chips to children, had some interesting unintended consequences. The pleasures of competition and the attraction of local fame via television were possibilities. But, for a number of children of working-class background, _Kids Bids_ gave them the opportunity to attain some of the trappings of a middle-class existence that otherwise were unavailable to them. In many ways, the program let children, rather than adults, take the lead. In a time before urban recycling programs, children organized family, friends, and community members to assist in collecting discarded packaging. These cooperative efforts, together with seeing fellow neighbourhood children on a locally produced television program, gave many children a sense of pride that outlasted any toys they may have won on the show.
Our current obsession with fat shaming and clean eating is the context in which these snack food manufacturers and workers have to operate. Those interviewed for the research for this book __ sometimes expressed frustration with the negative attention and blanket condemnation their industry receives. <PERSON>, production manager at Covered Bridge Potato Chips, explained, "If you don't eat right and exercise, you're not going to be small; you're going to be overweight. I mean, I've worked here five years and I think I've put on ten pounds since I started here. And I don't attribute [that] to eating chips. I'm off the floor more, doing maintenance stuff, and been more in the office. I'm less active, I guess, and my wife's a real good cook." <PERSON>, director of operations at W.T. Hawkins, recalled that scientists' warnings about saturated fats led to the development of hydrogenated oils, which were subsequently discovered
|
7e706a16-8d7a-5ce8-fb24-bb99d180d81f
|
['fc1ca772-b065-1331-e0e9-6db21696f5a6']
|
represented poor health, a desecration of the wife's traditional role and a scandalous extravagance." Workers themselves may have felt differently, she notes. They "may well have appreciated a cool apartment, a quick, easy meal staple, and the particular delights of certain treats from the bakery. . . . Most critically, the time and resources to bake bread at home were luxuries that many working-class Americans did not enjoy." Bakery bread, delicatessen offerings of ready-cooked foods, and pushcart pies and cakes were convenient and pleasurable purchases for workers. For middle-class critics, however, <PERSON> says, they were "a needless indulgence and a sign of laziness." So much of the language of this period is replicated in ours today. This book may not inspire readers to change their minds about consuming snacks . . . but it is hoped that it may change their minds about unfairly judging those who do and those who work in the industry.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Writing is often described as a solitary process, yet an author requires a crowd of supporters to accomplish her task. I am thankful for all those who contributed to the production of this book.
A variety of organizations provided the financial and material assistance necessary for my research on the history of Canadian snack foods. I am grateful to the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for an Insight Development Grant, to the University of Winnipeg for an Arts Research Seed Money Award, and to the Oral History Centre at the University of Winnipeg for funding through the James Burns Oral History Pilot Project in Business. The Oral History Centre staff at the University of Winnipeg worked their usual technical and legal magic for me: my thanks to <PERSON> and <PERSON> for their practical help, advice, and equipment loans.
This research benefited from the questions and comments of fellow scholars at a number of academic conferences, including: the joint conference of the Association of Business Historians and Gesellschaft für Unterneh-mensgeschichte, Humboldt University, Berlin, May 2016; A Taste for Feeling: The Affect Project __ symposium, University of Manitoba, February 2016; the Social Science History Association conference, Toronto, November 2014; the International Oral History Association conference, Barcelona, July 2014; the Canadian Historical Association and Canadian Association of Food Studies conferences, Brock University, May 2014; the Anglo-American Conference of Historians, Institute of Historical Research, University of London, July 2013; the Oral History Society conference, University of Sussex, July 2013; and the Canadian Food History Symposium, University of Winnipeg, October 2013. My food history students at the University of Winnipeg provided helpful critiques as well. Part of the chapter on Cheezies was published earlier in _Oral History,_ the journal of the British Oral History Society.
My research assistants were invaluable during this project. <PERSON> spent a week in Ottawa, scanning documents at Library and Archives Canada and at the Canadian Agriculture Library. <PERSON> and <PERSON> spent two years working with me, interviewing people for this book, processing the interviews for later archival deposit, and scouring libraries, archives, and corporate registry offices across
|
e3b45a53-83db-5c5c-3ba8-292ea919cc9f
|
['fc8ea6bb-1855-3807-1468-90ae6e2ac984']
|
called out. "Where's <PERSON>?"
He took a breath, then exhaled. "<PERSON> was walking her along the road at the top of the woods on the fourth ring. A squirrel ran across their path and <PERSON> chased it past the warning fences."
"Did <PERSON> go into the Bomb's Breath?"
He rubbed his hand over his face.
"<PERSON>'s dead?" <PERSON> asked.
When my dad bowed his head, I knew the answer was yes. I felt sick.
"We're crazy to live so close to something so dangerous," he muttered. Almost like he was saying it to himself. "Come on. They're leaving soon."
I followed him, numb. <PERSON> was dead. Mr. <PERSON> didn't look right without <PERSON> by his side. Nothing was right with this day.
Just like every year, I was saying goodbye to people I'd known my whole life. It was worse this year, though—it was the first time I had to say goodbye to <PERSON>'s brothers. It seemed wrong to send them into such great danger, while we sat in our safe, protected valley. We ran out of Ameiphus when <PERSON> got hurt, so we couldn't even send some with the guard to treat injuries.
I stood next to <PERSON> while his siblings hugged <PERSON> and <PERSON>; then it was our turn. I told them I'd miss them and to be safe, and they hugged me like I was one of their sisters. <PERSON> rubbed his knuckles through <PERSON>'s hair and said, "You're the oldest son at home now. Watch out for everyone, okay?" <PERSON> told him that he would, then looked away.
When his mom began to cry the moment she put her arms around <PERSON>, and my mom started crying about half a second later, I helped <PERSON> walk back to a wagon. He didn't say a word. Neither did I. What was I supposed to say to him? Eventually I managed, "They'll be okay. They'll be back." I wasn't sure how convincing I sounded.
#
All of us at the council meeting fidgeted as we listened to Mr. <PERSON> talk about the amount of coal mined for the winter, and <PERSON> talk about the amount of firewood we had. I didn't blame us for being antsy. Today marked the fourth week since the guard left. Every Wednesday at four p.m., someone from White Rock went to our side of the pass and someone from Browning went to their side of the pass, and they communicated with the telegraph system that Mr. <PERSON> had made.
It was almost five, time for the meeting to end, and everyone drummed their fingers, wiggled in their seats, and looked to the doors almost constantly, barely listening to the speaker. People filled all the empty spots in the room. We all wanted news on whether Browning had been attacked, and if so, how our guard fared.
<PERSON> joined <PERSON> and me at our normal spot against the far wall, and <PERSON> sat on her mom's lap on the benches.
Finally, when virtually everyone was staring at the double doors at the side of the
|
a9bbad1f-4f3b-38d1-931a-db8fb632557b
|
['fc8ea6bb-1855-3807-1468-90ae6e2ac984']
|
the rushing river was so loud, no one even tried to talk over it.
Most of the way, the ledge was about the same height as the river, but for a terrifying stretch as long as our field at home, it was ten feet above the surface of the water, almost touching the cave ceiling, and barely wide enough to crawl on. I looked down at the water and imagined what would happen if I fell in. The water was so cold, I'd probably freeze instantly; then the river would carry me downstream and shove me under the ice as it exited the mountain. I suppressed a full-body shudder and huddled closer to the wall, focusing on the boots of the guard in front of me.
Once we got past the fall-and-you-die part, the ceiling was tall enough to stand again. I rubbed at my sore knees and hobbled along. After a long stretch, the cave roof lowered to a small opening and I figured it meant more crawling. Instead, I climbed through the opening into a massive cavern. A guard at the opening touched my shoulder, then held a finger to his lips.
I looked around to see why he cared if I was quiet, and that was when I noticed the hole in the ceiling. The hole that led to the mine, and to the bandits guarding it. I moved to the side of the opening, and <PERSON> and <PERSON> joined me.
Even though I'd followed right behind them, I hadn't looked closely at the frames of the guards' packs. Six of them took off their packs and removed the fabric part that held supplies. The remaining part had two side pieces made of wood that were shaped differently at the top than at the bottom, and three wooden cross pieces, kind of like a ladder. No, _exactly_ like a ladder. The six men each slid the top part of their ladder into the bottom part of another ladder, connecting them. When they were done, it was long enough to reach the hole in the rock ceiling. I guess a few of the guards used their downtime in Browning to invent. It was the kind of thing that would likely win an award at the Inventions Contest.
With the ladder in place, <PERSON> and <PERSON> went up to the surface, while we waited. If the bandits saw our guard first, they could warn the other bandits. Or worse, they could shoot <PERSON> and <PERSON>! We barely breathed as we heard a couple of bandits let out startled cries before their bodies hit the ground. Sounds that told us we could go up the ladder and save our town.
#
All of the guards climbed the ladder before us except <PERSON>. I stepped from the top rung onto the floor of the mines, and for the first time since the dark-haired bandit shoved my mom, the responsibility that felt like a schoolbag full of bricks was lifted from me. The worry about everyone was still there, but we had succeeded! We'd
|
05871eac-1d8c-f2e2-5547-832b1be4bd07
|
['fcc43697-4f56-53d9-e8af-714fd5492425']
|
<PERSON> had forced him to shut down. It would be just like that ham-fisted Upright to punish me through the people under my protection.
I was ten yards away when <PERSON> did a double take and recognized me in <PERSON>'s clothing. He stood up a little straighter, looked around for <PERSON>, failed to get his attention, and, with a shrug, began ambling toward me.
I threw the hood of my cloak back and gestured at <PERSON>'s shop. "This had better not be what I think it is," I said, pitching my voice to carry past the few people who still separated us.
"It's not," said <PERSON>. A smile formed across his jagged face as he came closer.
He was three paces away when the smile twitched and faltered. Then <PERSON> fell over. Behind him stood <PERSON>, a long knife in her hand, the blade red and wet and shining in the morning light. Unlike <PERSON>, she wasn't smiling. In fact, she looked downright pissed.
**Chapter Twenty**
**O** ur eyes met over the dying <PERSON>. There were anger and murder and dark resolve in <PERSON>'s face, but none of those inclinations seemed directed at me. Seeing her like that, knife in hand, standing over another man's body, reminded me of why I'd found her so damn alluring in the first place. Nevertheless, I let my right hand begin drifting toward my dagger.
Someone saw the body, saw the knife, and screamed. Someone else joined in. People began running and shoving and pointing.
Damn Lighters—just like them to ruin the moment.
I glanced away from <PERSON> in time to see <PERSON> get his throat slit from behind by one of <PERSON>'s people. The woman winked at me and then slipped back into the crowd without a ripple.
Someone grabbed my arm. It was <PERSON>.
"Come on!" she said, pulling. I didn't move. She swore. "Nicco's got at least two more Arms farther up the street, and I don't like our chances against them in a fair fight." I stopped resisting and fell in behind her.
<PERSON> led me down Echelon Way to an alley called Chipper's Gap. <PERSON> was loitering at the entrance. He knocked over a stack of barrels as we passed, blocking off the alley mouth.
We turned into a doorway before the alley ended and followed a short flight of stairs down, cut back along a hallway, then ran up another set of steps. We came out among the leather hides and laces of <PERSON> the cobbler's back room. Then through another door, down more steps, and so on, weaving through a maze of connected cellars, gardens, and closely constructed upper stories until we paused inside a recessed archway at street level, four blocks away.
"I take it," I said, my hands on my knees, my thigh aching, and my breath coming in gasps, "that I'm no longer one of Nicco's favorite people."
"You think?" said <PERSON>. She was leaning against the opposite wall, head back. "Did your finely honed instincts tell you that, or was
|
66f25fa2-7430-6683-9a5f-24923455c095
|
['fcc43697-4f56-53d9-e8af-714fd5492425']
|
good—but the sound of feet scrabbling on the muddy rocks of the ramp saved me.
"Hey, give me a hand!" yelled <PERSON> from beyond the edge of the pit.
<PERSON> smiled and gave me a light slap on the shoulder. "Lucky."
"Stubborn," I replied.
As <PERSON> stood and went to help <PERSON>, I let myself ease back on my rough seat. Bits of broken bricks and stone poked into my back, but it felt wonderful to lie back nonetheless. I shifted slightly so I could see the edge of the pit.
I was watching <PERSON>, down on one knee and leaning forward, his arm reaching toward <PERSON>, when I heard a splash come from somewhere behind me. It sounded too big to be a rat or a dog, and I twisted my neck to peer into the night.
He was coming fast, sword out, cloak flying behind him. For a moment, I thought it was our dark guide, come to betray us in person, until I saw the broad swath of white around his waist.
"<PERSON>!" I said even as I sat up and tried to push myself into a more or less standing position. "White Sash!"
It came out a little bit louder than a mumble.
Somehow, I managed to lever myself upright. I still had my rapier in my hand, but there wasn't much I was going to do with it. Nevertheless, I raised the blade's tip as best I could and staggered my way between the Sash and <PERSON>'s back.
The Sash saw me and didn't even slow down. I saw a smile form on his face, and suddenly realized this Sash was a woman.
"<PERSON>!" I said again, "<PERSON>!" This time it came out louder.
I heard a yell behind me and the sound of feet scrambling for purchase in the mud.
The <PERSON> was practically on top of me. Her smile was wide and genuine and cruel, and it made her beautiful in the beaded amber of my night vision. I found myself wanting to say something to the woman who was about to kill me: to tell her how lovely she was, how graceful, how much she reminded me of my sister, but reality was working faster than my mind by that point. I was still figuring out the words when she raised her sword and swatted me aside with its guard.
The blow spun me as I fell. I caught a glimpse of <PERSON> drawing his own blade even as his back foot slid out from under him and he began to fall down the ramp. <PERSON> was behind, yelling something I could no longer hear, a dripping leather sack clutched to his chest. And the Sash—she was in midleap, her sword held high, her teeth flashing in the night.
Then I was facing the ground, watching it come up toward me. I thought I heard myself say, "<PERSON>," but it might have been my mind playing with me again. I hit the mud, and the world became a dark and quiet place.
**Chapter Eighteen**
|
0aa4d59b-7ff0-b542-d1cd-fef0c8bf0077
|
['fde10d68-8b4f-5210-10ca-4c7895b022cd']
|
hydrothermal reservoir rocks (Goss 2001). The 1995 juvenile clasts show evidence for mixed magmas ranging in composition from high-K basaltic andesite to high-K andesite. Plagioclase is the most abundant phase, with about one quarter of phenocrysts displaying sieve textures. Clinopyroxene (augite) and orthopyroxene (hypersthene) are also common (Fig. 5.5) along with olivine, oxides, and trace amounts of apatite (Goss 2001).
Fig. 5.5
Left compositional variation in plagioclase crystals for the 1995, 2000, and 2012 eruptions; Right the same for the two pyroxene phases. Data of the 1995 scoria sample are from Goss (2001) and those of the 2000 and 2012 scoria and pumices are after <PERSON> (2014)
Olivine crystals have a narrow compositional range in the 2000 and 2012 samples (Fo = 64–67 %) and have few if any spinel inclusions. Clinopyroxene crystals are diopsitic augites (Mg# = 67–81 %) with ~2 % Al2O3, 0.7–0.9 % TiO2, whereas the orthopyroxenes are hypersthenes with up to 2 % CaO. Plagioclase crystals in the 2000 samples range in composition from 51 to 62 % An, whereas the 2012 samples range from 42 to 63 % An, with the large corroded plagioclase crystals from 64 to 91 % An. Only a single oxide (titanomagnetite) has been found in all the recent products. The pyroxenes and plagioclases from the products of the two eruptions overlap in composition (Fig. 5.5).
## 5.8 Caviahue
The Caviahue samples show much more compositional and mineralogical variation than Copahue volcano, with rocks ranging from basaltic andesite to rhyolite. The more evolved magmas have hornblende and biotite as hydrous minerals. The compositional range of the minerals in these rocks was described by <PERSON> (2005), <PERSON> (2003) and <PERSON> (2003), and data from the latter two summarized in <PERSON> et al. (2006). The intermediate rocks are two-pyroxene andesites (Fig. 5.6), with olivine in the more mafic endmembers and intermediate plagioclase crystals (Fig. 5.6). The rock samples from the Riscos Bayos pyroclastic flow series have plagioclase, two pyroxenes, Fe-oxides, biotite, and quartz in the rhyolitic endmembers, with abundant variation between the various stratigraphic units within these flows (<PERSON> 2004; <PERSON> et al. 2006; <PERSON> 2005). The intra-caldera rocks are mainly dacites and rhyolites, with orthopyroxenes, plagioclase and oxides. The silicic dome on the north rim of the Caviahue caldera (Cerro Bayo) is a dacitic rock. Rocks from the southern caldera wall (<PERSON> 2005) consist of volcanoclastic breccias, lava flows, dikes, and a few ignimbrites that range from basaltic andesite to andesite in composition. Plagioclase is most abundant, followed by clinopyroxene with opaques, with rarer olivine and orthopyroxene.
Fig. 5.6
Pyroxene (left) and plagioclase (right) compositions of the Caviahue north and east caldera wall rocks (<PERSON> 2003; <PERSON> 2003). Blue squares clinopyroxenes; light blue triangles orthopyroxenes
The compositional variation in minerals from the analyzed rock samples from the Caviahue caldera walls shows plagioclase with 50–70 An%, with slightly more albite-rich crystals in sample NB6 (dacite). The clinopyroxenes have Mg# 62–74, and sample NB6 has some groundmass pyroxene grains with 9–10 % Wo. These could be pigeonites but more detailed work is needed to further prove
|
f67b1622-8cc0-81ff-98e3-88c7d6b9a5ae
|
['fde10d68-8b4f-5210-10ca-4c7895b022cd']
|
that of neighbouring volcanoes. The older Caviahue complex has a much wider compositional range (basalt to rhyolite) and differs at the mafic compositional realm from Copahue by lower K and Ca and higher Fe and Ti. Compared to the main Andes arc volcanoes of Callaqui, Tolhuaca and Llaima, Copahue is enriched in the LIL elements, has less deep negative Nb anomalies, and has relatively low Ba/Nb values (40–60). The back arc basalts of the Loncopue graben (LBAB) are much more mafic, and enriched in Nb as well as the LIL elements. The back arc rocks north of Loncopue positioned on the flank of the old Caviahue structure are transitional in chemistry between the Caviahue and LBAB series. Mantle enrichment related to subduction several million years ago still persists when tapped again during the LBAB magmatic phase, as also suggested by <PERSON> et al. (2002) for centers further south in the Andes.
The isotope geochemistry of the Copahue rocks is distinct from that of the Caviahue series, whereas the LBAB rocks show a wide range that encompasses all the data of the CCVC rocks. The Copahue magmas have the highest Pb isotope ratios relative to all surrounding volcanoes. The LBAB and transitional series have some samples with unusually low 206Pb/204Pb as does the large tholeiitic dike of Callaqui volcano (Rea 2009). The overall rock chemistry and isotope compositions in this section of the Andes arc point to the usual source mixture of subducted Pacific Ocean sediment (PDS) and MORB type mantle (0.5–3 % bulk sediment mixing), with an additional low 206Pb/204Pb component in some magmas. This third component has EM1 characteristics and may represent the continental lithospheric mantle, lower crust, or other EM1-type mantle domains (<PERSON> et al. 2010; <PERSON> et al. 2013; <PERSON> et al. 2013, 2014).
Our interpretation of the chemical composition of Copahue lavas is as follows: these Copahue magmas formed from a mantle wedge influenced by an already "fractionated" subducted sediment-slab complex, which had already lost water and easily mobile elements such as Ba, Sr, Pb and U below the currently active main arc in Chile. The magmas formed in a relatively water-poor environment, leading to smaller % melting compared to the main arc magmas in Chile, which also resulted in largely effusive magma extrusions. The small violent strombolian eruptions were probably caused by local volatile enrichment in the tops of small pods of magma after shallow emplacement of magma from a deeper storage region. The isotope data also indicate that a slightly different sediment mix was involved at Copahue than what created the Caviahue magmas a few million years earlier. The presence of 129Iodine in the modern magmato-hydrothermal fluids (<PERSON> et al. 2004) and the slightly low He isotope ratios with respect to MORB values leave little doubt about the involvement of subducted sediments in these magmas (<PERSON> et al. 2002). As argued before (<PERSON> et al. 2006), limited crustal assimilation may have taken place during storage in the lower and or middle crust.
The central Andes arc magmas are generated once fluids from the subducted complex are
|
7811b7ef-b5a8-451e-6abd-2079bff95be7
|
['fe6bf476-7940-1dc6-ea0f-2c456dcc41f8']
|
kept at it. She didn't stop."
It became, in those weeks toward the end of July, a ritual incantation, recited with fervor whenever <PERSON> and <PERSON> were together: <PERSON> was coming between them; <PERSON> was trying to break them up; <PERSON> was forcing her to go to Rowayton and be with the <PERSON> when all she really wanted was to be with <PERSON>; <PERSON> was trying to force her to sleep with <PERSON>. Escape, freedom, the only chance for them to be together again was for <PERSON> to die.
Every once in a while the song changed, a change that ripped through <PERSON> and sent him reeling into a nightmare world. They went for a long ride one afternoon. "I asked her if she was in love with <PERSON>, and she didn't say anything, and I asked her again, and she said yes, and the bottom sort of dropped put of me. I dropped her off at her house and drove away, and then I drove back, and I sat outside her bedroom window and cried for about five hours, and she didn't know I was there, or she pretended she didn't know. She didn't come to the window."
Writing in her diary on July 26, <PERSON> noted that she and <PERSON> had driven up to Boston the morning of the previous Saturday, had lunch, bought a lot of clothes, taken one of those old-fashioned tintype photographs and just had fun. After <PERSON> had dropped her off at home, she drove down to Rowayton. She stayed the night and slept with <PERSON> for the twenty-first time. When she told <PERSON> that she was staying over, <PERSON> wanted to know whether the <PERSON> were going to be there. <PERSON> told her they were. <PERSON> said that was fine, then, because if it were just <PERSON> and <PERSON> alone in the house, <PERSON> would look like a slut. There had been a good party for <PERSON>, but <PERSON> had to leave early because she had <PERSON>'s car and <PERSON> wanted it. <PERSON> had seen her wearing the ring <PERSON> had ordered from Woodstock, had said she didn't like it, and she didn't like the one from Thunder Hole he had bought for her a year earlier, and she told <PERSON> to take them off.
The last entry in the diary was written on July 28. The first item she thought worthy of mention was that she had slept with <PERSON> again, for the twenty-fourth time, which, she noted, added up to once for each year of his life. This particular session, though, had been special; he had held on to her when they were through as though he really cared for her. Still, she had promised him that she wouldn't get attached to him. Then she turned to <PERSON>, writing that he was desperate and on the verge of suicide; that was too bad, but she wasn't really sorry for him. He might have a lot of problems, but she couldn't understand why he had let her bother him so much. Perhaps <PERSON> had
|
5681978e-7362-3cbf-1b49-6a408480a6ed
|
['fe6bf476-7940-1dc6-ea0f-2c456dcc41f8']
|
swindle, as much as they thought the New York cops needed to know. But for the moment at least, they ruled out <PERSON> as the man behind the murders. Murder just wasn't something that happened in this kind of a case. It was too extreme, too out-of-the-ordinary. White-collar criminals, swindlers, don't resort to violence. It's not the pattern. But if not <PERSON>, who? Some of the investigators thought <PERSON> husband the most likely suspect, given his wife's disappearance and probable murder, given the relationship between his wife and <PERSON>, given what they saw as his reaction, or lack of it. Some thought perhaps a spurned boyfriend of <PERSON>'s or someone unknown for some unknown reason.
But for the moment, the man behind the murders, and surely there was one, was less important than the murderer himself, and, despite the rumors, no one had any doubts that there was only one killer. If they could identify and find him, the rest would fall into place.
19
<PERSON> knew he had to run. His only hope was in flight. And he was not sanguine about that. He called <PERSON>'s private unlisted number. He told <PERSON> he was convinced that he was going to get caught. But if <PERSON> would agree to hire and pay for a lawyer for him and see that his family was taken care of, he would never say a word about who had hired him. Further, he said, he wanted the balance of the $8,000 due him for the murder of <PERSON>, and he thought he deserved an additional payment for the terrible thing he had to do when those three CBS people walked in on him when he was putting <PERSON> into the van.
<PERSON> listened, said he would contact <PERSON> and then get back to <PERSON>. He called <PERSON>, told him what <PERSON> wanted. <PERSON> said, not a penny more for <PERSON>. She deserved to be dead because she was not trustworthy and she had proved to be an enemy of his. But, yes, <PERSON> did deserve something extra because of that unexpected snag that had put him in such extreme danger. If <PERSON> were caught and agreed never to talk about the reasons why he had done these dastardly deeds, then <PERSON> would take care of him: He would find him a lawyer and pay the bill; he would provide for his family; he would pay the balance owed on <PERSON>; and he would ante up an additional $5,000 for the CBS murders.
<PERSON> passed the word on to <PERSON>. <PERSON> accepted the terms. <PERSON> reported to <PERSON> and said the money would have to be paid immediately. <PERSON> agreed. It was not hard for him to gather that much cash, in $100 bills. He and <PERSON> counted it to make sure it was all there. Then they packaged it. The neatly wrapped bundle was turned over to one of their sons, who bore it to a Federal Express office. When it was ready, <PERSON> sent a messenger to Federal Express to retrieve
|
e259ca30-e263-0907-593f-266118a4ae61
|
['ff4311e9-44bd-c29c-b196-a90dadb5fbb4']
|
with more power you can see that it is shaped like that west coast US state. This is located on the northern winter chart as well as on the North Celestial Pole chart.
* * *
DEEP-SKY OBJECT
**M 34**
* * *
TYPE
Galactic cluster
* * *
MAGNITUDE
5.2
* * *
SIZE
35'
* * *
DISTANCE IN
LIGHT-YEARS
1,400
* * *
Tricky indeed to see. Dark skies a must.
* * *
DEEP-SKY OBJECT
**Mel 20**
* * *
TYPE
Galactic cluster
* * *
MAGNITUDE
2.9
* * *
SIZE
3°
* * *
DISTANCE IN LIGHT-YEARS
600
* * *
α Perseus moving cluster. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? Does the name give away where it is? This is a sprawling family of stars based around the star α Per, which makes it very easy to find.
## <PERSON>
LATIN NAME
<PERSON>
ENGLISH NAME
The King
ABBREVIATION
<PERSON>
LATIN
POSSESSIVE
<PERSON>
* * *
α STAR
Alderamin
MAGNITUDE
2.44
STAR COLOUR
White
He's the King of Ethiopia, husband of Cassiopeia and father of Andromeda. Not incredibly bright (in stars, not as a king), but due to its proximity to the Milky Way there are quite a few galactic clusters and wispy nebulae to have a look at.
LOCATION: <PERSON> waits patiently for a cup of tea towards the top of the North Celestial Pole chart (see here).
* * *
VARIABLE STAR
δ **Cep**
* * *
MAGNITUDE RANGE
3.9 to 5.0
* * *
PERIOD
5.3663 days
* * *
A most interesting yellow star in that it is variable with an exact period. This star was the first of a whole new class of variables named Cepheids (see Variable stars), stars whose magnitude fluctuates precisely with their period.
* * *
VARIABLE STAR
**μ Cep**
* * *
MAGNITUDE RANGE
3.43 to 5.1
* * *
PERIOD
˜730 days
* * *
Named the Garnet Star by <PERSON> due to its intense deep-red colour. This is a semi-regular variable type.
## Pegasus
LATIN NAME
Pegasus
ENGLISH NAME
The Flying Horse
ABBREVIATION
<PERSON>
LATIN
POSSESSIVE
<PERSON>
* * *
α STAR
Markab
MAGNITUDE
2.49
STAR COLOUR
White
The Greek winged horse born from the blood of <PERSON> after <PERSON> chopped her head off. The square of the flying horse Pegasus is one of the landmarks in autumn skies. Now here's a strange thing – when is a square not a square? Enter the all-seeing body that looks after the sky and all that's in it – the International Astronomical Union, or IAU. They name asteroids, calculate orbits, and 'fix' general starry things. In 1923, in their wisdom and for no apparent reason, they took the top left star of the square, Alpheratz, and 'fixed' it in the constellation of Andromeda. The star to this day is α Andromedae (i.e. of the constellation of Andromeda) – it's just something we have to live with.
As an indication of how clear your skies are, see how many stars you can count inside the actual square. If
|
d6e7ab0a-5662-86f6-7939-65b135e59643
|
['ff4311e9-44bd-c29c-b196-a90dadb5fbb4']
|
be, in no particular order: Crux, Centaurus, Carina, Sagittarius and Scorpius – all of which need a good southerly location if you are to see them well.
The busy area around Crux, with the bright Milky Way running through the view. (Image courtesy of <PERSON>)
So useful was the Southern Cross to the mariners of ye olden dayes that this recognisable group found its way on to the flags of Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea and Samoa.
* * *
DEEP-SKY OBJECT
**NGC 4755**
* * *
TYPE
Galactic cluster
* * *
MAGNITUDE
4.2
* * *
SIZE
10'
* * *
DISTANCE IN LIGHT-YEARS
7,600
* * *
The Jewel Box cluster is a 'gem' of a group. Its stars glisten like a box of multi-coloured jewels, with blues, reds and whites galore. This cluster, sitting around κ Cru, is right next door to the Coal Sack dark nebula.
LOCATION: The Southern Cross is nestled underneath Centaurus, next to the dark patch, on our southern chart.
* * *
DEEP-SKY OBJECT
**The Coal Sack**
* * *
TYPE
Dark nebula
* * *
MAGNITUDE
6°
* * *
SIZE
30" x 5°
* * *
DISTANCE IN LIGHT-YEARS
550
* * *
This 'hole' in the flowing Milky Way is due to a cloud of dust and gas that is blocking out the starlight from behind. The Coal Sack is probably the closest dark nebula to us.
Here's the central part of the picture opposite with locators for some wonderful deep-sky objects. The two bright stars of alpha and beta Centauri are off to the left. (Image courtesy of <PERSON>)
### <PERSON>
LATIN NAME
<PERSON>
ENGLISH NAME
The Sails
ABBREVIATION
Vel
LATIN POSSESSIVE
Velorum
* * *
α STAR
γ Vel
MAGNITUDE
1.8
STAR COLOUR
Bluish
If you've read about Puppis (see here), you know the story. Argo Navis was a fine vessel. In mythology <PERSON> sailed in her with his Argonauts hither and thither. Over the seven seas the creaking timbers survived well until the star-mapper <PERSON> carved her up into three pieces during the 'Battle of the Stars'. This was during that time in the 1700s and 1800s when the only thing astro-designers wanted was for one of their groups to be accepted into sky lore. <PERSON> was fortunate this time, while many around him 'walked the plank' into the murky waters of 'constellation history'.
As far as <PERSON> is concerned, it has been said that on dark, calm nights, you can still hear the creakin' of the yardarm from that fateful break-up. Because of this heavenly 'shipwreck', Vela has no alpha or beta stars, but is led by the unnamed gamma Velorum – sounds like a magic spell if you say it out loud.
Interesting Milky Way fact: our flowing friend travels through Vela. Nothing of note there, you may think. However, this is the only part of its entire circuit around the sky that is broken. Across the Milky Way there runs a ribbon of dark dust and gas
|
9ef82b4f-0416-ae85-2043-b47eb2881185
|
['ffeb95cb-afbc-c2a7-de47-8418cd6f3ce1']
|
becomes unstable of its own accord.
## **_Translator's Comments_**
<PERSON> explains the name "Grasp Sparrow's Tail" _(lan que wei)_ , describing it as the "chief hand," and he refers to the individual methods of Ward Off _(peng)_ , Roll Back _(lu)_ , Press _(ji)_ , and Push _(an)_ as subsets of Grasp Sparrow's Tail. The notion of "back and forth" ( _wangfu _ ), or "to and fro," will appear again in the book in describing an interactive dynamic essential in push hands. The term _wangfu_ appears in a line in <PERSON> "Mental Elucidation of the Thirteen Postures": "In going to and fro, there must be foldings and alternations."
Note that there is a change in voice from first person: "suppose an opponent directly facing me," to prescriptive voice: "take the left hand and lift it up." This shift in voice recurs throughout the book and most likely reflects a common phenomenon that occurs when someone is both demonstrating and explaining techniques to students.
There is some divergence of interpretation regarding the orientation of <PERSON>'s torso and face. Some Yang Style proponents learn the posture Ward Off Left with the torso facing more squarely toward the south. In his book, _Yang Chengfu Shi Taijiquan_ , <PERSON> cites several authorities who learned from his father, noting that in their forms, "all have Left Ward Off with the eyes looking in the direction of the left hand." He further remarks that
According to the fighting methods handed down in the <PERSON> family, it is necessary that the eyes focus in the direction towards which the left hand wards-off. Why, then, does the photo show the eyes looking toward the right side? It would seem now that at the time the photo was taken, the photographer made an error. (<PERSON>, _<PERSON>_ , pp. 25–26.)
<PERSON> does not elaborate on what the nature of the error was, but it could be that the photographer captured <PERSON> in a transitional movement, rather than in the precise ending posture for Ward Off Left.
## **Section Three: The** **_Lu_** **Method of Grasp Sparrow's Tail**
From the previous posture, suppose the opponent uses his left hand to strike my ribs. I immediately step directly forward to the right front with my right foot, bending the knee and treading solidly. The left foot changes to empty. At the same time, my body also turns to face the right. The eyes, following, look out evenly. The right and left hands simultaneously turn over roundly and move toward the right front. The right hand is in front, the palm inclined toward the inside. The left hand is behind, the palm inclined toward the inside.
Figure 3
Turning to the point where the right palm is down and the left palm is facing up, I quickly adhere to the opponent's elbow joint with the side of my forearm. Inclining my left wrist, using the bone of the back of the wrist to stick to the wrist and back of the arm of the opponent, I
|
c8645483-26a4-cf81-84c2-a9dd61db06eb
|
['ffeb95cb-afbc-c2a7-de47-8418cd6f3ce1']
|
the form name, such as "guarding fist under elbow," "guarded fist under elbow," and the like. The notion of standing guard or being watchful suggests a reserving or storing up of power, only to be issued when the situation calls for it and the opportunity is right.
## **Section Twenty-One: Step Back Dispatch Monkey**
From the preceding posture, suppose an opponent firmly grasps my left wrist or forearm with his right hand, and also uses his left hand to lift my right fist. Hence I am initially under his control. Just when it seems I can't display my skill, I immediately rotate my left palm up, and using sinking energy _(chenjin)_ , loosening my waist and _kua_ , draw it back toward the left rear. The left foot also retreats a step, bending at the knee and sitting solid. The right foot changes to empty, then the opponent's gripping strength is suddenly lost. The right hand simultaneously separates and opens to the rear, and at the point when he loses his gripping strength, immediately pushes forward. Although this form retreats a step, it can still dispatch the opponent's energy. Hence it is named Step Back Dispatch Monkey. Its essentials are in particular the loosening of the shoulders _(song jian)_ and the sinking of the _qi_.
Figure 21
## **_Translator's Comments_**
The interjection, "Just when it seems I can't display my skill," is an amusing setup for the reversal in fortunes the opponent is about to experience. It is also a commentary on the meaning of the form's name, _dao nian hou _. The word _dao _ can mean "to back up," "reverse," or "invert," but it can also mean "contrary to expectation." Hence the statement, "Although this form retreats a step, it can still dispatch the opponent's energy." One is reminded of the English phrase "to turn the tables" on someone.
Note the careful explanation of the timing involved. It is just at the point where the opponent "loses his gripping strength" that one applies the push.
## **Section Twenty-Two: Step Back Dispatch Monkey, continued**
The additional left and right forms of Step Back Dispatch Monkey are the same in intent. The body method, footwork, and posture are all identical. In practice one may retreat three, five, or seven steps. All of these are fine as long as one ends with the right hand in the forward position.
Figure 22
## **Section Twenty-Three:** **Flying Obliquely**
From the previous form, if an opponent comes from the right side to strike my upper body, or uses strength to pin down my right forearm or wrist, I immediately take advantage of the situation, sink downward, close _(he)_ , and store up energy _(xu jin)_. Thereupon I separate and spread my right hand to the upper right corner, using opening energy _(kaijin)_ to strike obliquely. Simultaneously, I step out with the right foot, bending the knee and sitting solidly on the right leg. It resembles a posture of flying obliquely. The intent should reflect the name of the posture.
Figure 23
## **_Translator's Comments_**
<PERSON>'s admonition
|
94e71a8c-10c0-20cf-87c3-c10e064507c8
|
['00037c55-ae1d-94e6-bf93-43c629badab7']
|
Hi,
If damage during coating with a protective resist-type material, or if
stiction might be a problem during removal of the protective material,
another option could be femtosecond pulsed laser cutting. This has
negligible mechanical coupling into the substrate and the heat is remarkably
well confined spatially.
Google search will turn up a bunch of places using this technique. Here is a
reference to a recent conference paper from a group at Penn State whose
laser I worked with previously, with excellent results:
"Femtosecond Micromachining Applications for Electro-Optic Components", <PERSON>, et al., Proceedings, 51st IEEE Electronic Components and Technology
Conference, 29 May-1 June 2001, pp. 210 - 214
Regards,
Peter
|
f4c47e9e-3365-4584-fa96-dcc715b4659d
|
['00037c55-ae1d-94e6-bf93-43c629badab7']
|
Hi <PERSON>,
At CMU we use the upper aluminum interconnect layers of CMOS stacks as the
etch mask for the silicon release etch of our MEMS devices. The anisotropic
DRIE silicon etch depth in this process can be as much as 50 um. In general,
our MEMS chips also have integrated electronics and to date no one has
flagged a device performance or reliability issue arising from contamination
due to the etching of the aluminum mask. So metal mask for DRIE silicon etch
is not unheard of.
We use an STS ASE tool for the silicon release etch. The chamber has alumina
liners, but there are some exposed aluminum parts. However, proving to a Fab
manager that a metal mask for a silicon etch will not lead to chamber
contamination, or other unspecified adverse effects, has a very low
probability of success, so optimize your resist process.
For a 250 um, backside anisotropic silicon etch, I'm using 4.2 um of AZ4210.
The maximum baking temperature is 90 deg C and the resist pattern is intact
after etch using a 10:1 SF6:O2 ratio during etch and C4F8 passivation.
Good luck and regards,
<PERSON>
|
29794468-24a7-3999-a743-f2d16f7aeb24
|
['00179f60-02ff-2e45-8666-1041128f7ac0']
|
Hi
It looks interesting - but access via the digital networks would be
easier. At least it should be simpler than the BBC's Quadraphonic
trials back in the 1970's - that required to 2 FM receivers! Not sure
that my internet is currently reliable enough - especially in the
evenings, but I might give it a try.
Every Blessing
<PERSON>
|
c14fde2c-812f-4149-c3e5-38b02569783f
|
['00179f60-02ff-2e45-8666-1041128f7ac0']
|
Hi
Came across this in the current edition of "Resolution" magazine - although
the technology article seems extremely light as to how the system works
psycoacoustically -as does their web-site http://immsound.com/home ,
although I've yet to read the white paper fully, it also seems rather light
- but then I suppose they want to see their gear!
Has anyone come across it? heard it in action? My first thoughts are that
it's using ambisonic principles - but I notice that <PERSON> et al get no
mention in the list of references, so maybe not?
Just interested - I'm not involved in cinema sound (but am interested in the
various surround sound systems).
Every Blessing
<PERSON>
|
ca880b85-55fa-1473-f984-2d28b68052b2
|
['0021802e-b855-98c1-4ffe-4b111b8095c7']
|
Hello <PERSON>,
2 or 3 weeks ago I launch the upgrade of kde with:
# Freshen -U KDE-Utils KDE-Libs KDE-PIM KDE-Graphics KDE-Multimedia
(Freshen release 2.2.2-r1)
Among dependencies there was new Xorg which is also a dependency of other kde's dependencies, I so stopped to count the
number of time Freshen asked me if I want to upgrade Xorg even thought I already accepted at the first time.
And not enough, each time I accepted this upgrade, it downloaded again and again because at the end each install it removed
the package better then waiting the end of Freshen process?
Did I missed important option which would make operation smoother?
<PERSON>,
r.
|
72e541c0-2c4d-b44b-2411-4398e119a83f
|
['0021802e-b855-98c1-4ffe-4b111b8095c7']
|
Hello all,
I haven't encounter any pb to configure my pppoe interface to my isp.
I can easily start and stop it manualy but how should I started automaticaly at system boot?
I try to have a look at wiki pages but I just find dhcp and static as BootProto, is there any other for dsl connection?
<PERSON>,
r.
|
a774d6fc-3219-a8b7-0e1e-7b40fda2a9df
|
['00226fc5-dd39-8fc0-2300-5abef333d7e3']
|
In order to keep my cost down on implementing Hylafax, I would like to use 8
external modems and a multiport serial card.
The Modems are a mixture of USR and Multitech.
Can any of you suggest a Multiport serial interface card that works with
Unbuntu/Debian Linux well.
I looked at the Modem/Fax Cards and the cost maybe a little more than we are
willing to spend right now.
Unless someone can tell me a reason not to go in this direction.....
TIA
|
d36d0992-f657-9f2b-433f-5376a89288d9
|
['00226fc5-dd39-8fc0-2300-5abef333d7e3']
|
I am looking for a complete guide to implementing mail 2 fax gateway. I have
gotten mail2fax.sh working from the other group. My issues are the extra
clutter in the body of the message probably from the mail client sending the
email, in this case, Outlook. Can you suggest another/better method of
implementing mail 2 fax sending.
Sincerely,
|
56aa5e28-51c4-4bbd-c516-225bbc1d24ce
|
['00232a5f-a440-3d16-6a2b-414292382dde']
|
Hello,
I am running freeradius 1.0.5 on FC4 i386
My end-users right now are getting authenticated by the login-based
mysql radcheck table from freeradius and they are coming from multiple
locations through a web-based portal redirected by their gateway.
My question is, if there is a way to setup freeradius for example: to
allow for 3 locations to login through the login based authentication
(the way it is setup right now) and at the same time grant 2 other
locations access without the need of using login based authentication, I
now there is an option to allow access without authentication, but to my
understanding this is global for all locations, I am looking for a way
to allow access without athentication for a specific location and at the
same time not interfere with the locations that are using login-based
authentication.
Is this possible? If so, where can I get more documentation on this
topic and where can I see an actual configuration example of this type
of setup?
If this is not possible "out of the box", where can I get documentation
on a work around or similar solutions?
Thank you in advance for all your help,
<PERSON>
|
7a9a3ae3-2dec-d411-0d12-d90998f3fbf4
|
['00232a5f-a440-3d16-6a2b-414292382dde']
|
Hello,
I am running freeradius 1.0.5 on FC4 i386
My end-users right now are getting authenticated by the login-based
mysql radcheck table from freeradius and they are coming from multiple
locations through a web-based portal redirected by their gateway.
My question is, if there is a way to setup freeradius for example: to
allow for 3 locations to login through the login based authentication
(the way it is setup right now) and at the same time grant 2 other
locations access without the need of using login based authentication, I
now there is an option to allow access without authentication, but to my
understanding this is global for all locations, I am looking for a way
to allow access without athentication for a specific location and at the
same time not interfere with the locations that are using login-based
authentication.
Is this possible? If so, where can I get more documentation on this
topic and where can I see an actual configuration example of this type
of setup?
If this is not possible "out of the box", where can I get documentation
on a work around or similar solutions?
Thank you in advance for all your help,
<PERSON>
|
4e307864-0527-bfb6-7339-a7f33493c41f
|
['003112fc-3ab8-e7d6-c6e8-7e6f6e1a1f73']
|
Thank you <PERSON> for your answer. I tried with the answer you gave and its working.
Actually we want to include Tail call Optimization in the Jikes compiler. The optimizations that are done in Jikes is in the path /home/rvmBuild/RVM.classes/com/ibm/JIkesRVM/opt . We tried giving System.out.println inside the java code OPT_TailRecursionElimination.java in the same path and then we compiled the java code using javac and jikes(both). When we ran rvm withoptions rvm -X:aos:initial_compiler=opt -X:opt:phases=true <some_classname> it prints for the option "phases=true" all the compiler phases done and it includes "Tail Recursion Elimination done". But the System.out.println that we gave inside the OPT_TailRecursionElimination.java is not getting printed in the terminal.Why is it not printing?
2. We are planning to include some optimizations in the jikes compiler.Where to include those files and what other modifications should be done to the existing Jikes compiler, like which files we have to modify and how to enable those options and so on.
Any kind of help is appreciated.
Thanks in advance
<PERSON>
bye
Narayani
|
c8b5c9e4-1611-27ea-7666-566680c41e85
|
['003112fc-3ab8-e7d6-c6e8-7e6f6e1a1f73']
|
Dear Sir
I'm planning to do Tail Call Optimization in JikesRVM. Once I check whether a call is a tail call, i want to jump to the basicblock of the callee.Im stuck here at this point of how to jump to the target call like how to get the basicblock where my callee starts or to the first instruction of the callsite.I have been trying to locate the method to find this for the past 2 days but in vain.Any kind of help is appreciated.
Regards
<PERSON>
|
ed1bec17-2d86-52a8-335f-17fd4df180fe
|
['0052a0af-ffbe-afc1-4a15-7d871519d972']
|
Hi,
After several long days of trying to figure this out
I must say I'm stumped.
I'm running OpenBSD 6.2 (GENERIC.MP) as of 9/26/17
AMD64 version with dhcpcd-6.11.5p4
Does anybody have a working IPv6 setup
that works with Comcast Business class service
that will allow me to use IPv6 on my LAN that
I could look at?
So far, all I can get to work is what I get
from placing "inet6 autoconf" in my WAN
and LAN interfaces.
I've now gotten rtadvd.conf to where i don't get errors
in /var/log/daemon.
I can ping from the command line of the router
any web address I enter.
I have dhcpcd-6.11.5p4 installed and have tried
countless variations of the readme file
example, the dist /etc/dhcpcd.conf, and various
other examples I've gotten from various places.
I've googled, searched mailing list archives,
and none of what I've found is helping me.
If ANYBODY has gotten this to work, could you
let me know what you did?
I'm just spinning my wheels, and I have RTFM
for days but just not fnding the answer.
Thanks, <PERSON>
|
866e8dc8-423a-a163-2cc6-612053b17602
|
['0052a0af-ffbe-afc1-4a15-7d871519d972']
|
Hi,
I have a friend who's a single mother, that has
a problem with an out of control teenaged son
playing Xbox 360 to all hours of the night.
I suggested her having me build her a firewall
that could be used to shut off Xbox traffic to
the Internet at times when she chooses to.
For example between certain hours..
Has anybody done this?
I didn't want to re-invent the wheel if I could
benefit from soembody else's experience.
Would appreciate any advice from people
who've already done this, like what needs to
be blocked for one.
Thanks, <PERSON>
|
e4b2e4ad-c168-2f83-710d-ba1f7e092535
|
['00744d29-73b2-e3bb-7c8f-d444225a6a06']
|
I know about chestnut, but this is a learning exercise for me to be more familiar with the development environment.
I have been trying to setup a workflow like the one in chestnut from scratch, but I have hit a roadblock when I try to add Om in my setup.
Before I have required Om, I could connect fireplace with :Piggieback (weasel.repl.websocket/repl-env :ip "<IP_ADDRESS>" :port 9001).
But as soon as I have added [om.core :as om] into (:require ), it would stop working and I couldn't find out why.
The code is on https://github.com/ePak/workflow, master branch does not include Om, and the dev branch (https://github.com/ePak/workflow/tree/dev) does.
Any help would be appreciated.
<PERSON>
|
d02bffde-cf75-6107-498f-a53aa016251a
|
['00744d29-73b2-e3bb-7c8f-d444225a6a06']
|
I am trying to use the x-tags <https://github.com/x-tag/core> library on
Chrome, but facing some unexpected issues; the same code works fine in
Firefox, Safari & IE.
I have already opened an issue <https://github.com/x-tag/core/issues/82> on
x-tags, but the maintainers can't seem to reproduce this, so I am posting
here to see whether other Chrome users can reproduce this.
At this stage, I am not entirely sure whether it is a bug in Chrome or
x-tags or both.
Summary of the problem is that the "inserted" callback of the
custom-element is being called twice in Chrome, but not in the other
browsers.
There are more details on the x-tags' issue page<https://github.com/x-tag/core/issues/82>
.
Thanks
<PERSON>
|
1922b9d8-9706-700c-9207-f59e56a4e3b7
|
['008c75a5-aab8-2566-8773-70c721262502']
|
I have a directory (Top) which contains many subdirectories, each of
which is an independent ASP.NET application. I'd like to be able to
install this on another machine. Right now the way this is done is:
1) copy the directories
2) Set WebSharing on Top
3) Individually open the properties window for each subdirectory and
press the create button (making it a virtual directory under Top).
Is there a way to do this programmatically with .NET 1.1?
Thanks!
-j
|
b0a9cb21-892b-d7a2-a061-664db24436af
|
['008c75a5-aab8-2566-8773-70c721262502']
|
I won't speak to the specifics of the <PERSON> book, but I will give you this
insight into how hard it is to avoid typos. I wrote my book, Programming C#
over the course of eight months. We then edited for five months. We edited
it again and again, with multiple editors reviewing it. I know that at least
8 people read every word. When the book was ready, I was sent proofs and at
least four of us scoured the proofs. In addition, at least 4 people tried
every line of code. Nonetheless, I found nearly 2 dozen errors once the book
was printed. Most were very minor, but it is painful to realize how
difficult it is to get it 100% right.
-j
|
55fa5514-a765-8292-ea16-fcc48909d5ec
|
['008d9bd0-aa70-b710-1fa5-54b339860be4']
|
Hello,
rdiff-backup --list-changed-since 1D archive
gives me filenames, which changed in a last day. I'd like to restore
only those files to some other dir. The purpose of this is to save
the whole archive to DVD only once a year, and then doing a weekly
DVD backups of changed files only. Archive is rather big.
Is there a way to do this yet with rdiff-backup, or must I write a
script to parse the "--list-changed-since" output?
Thanks,
<PERSON>
|
5b69ae09-91f0-2bbb-0e66-b6a742bf4758
|
['008d9bd0-aa70-b710-1fa5-54b339860be4']
|
I'm having problems with $PHP_SELF variable. Mostly it works, other
times (about 10% of tries) it's just empty. Is this a known issue with Apache
2? If I use $_SERVER['PHP_SELF'], it always works fine, but still I'd
like to know if this is a common bug or there's something wrong with
my configuration.
I'm using PHP 4.3.3 with Apache 2.0.43, Linux 2.4.21-grsec, register_globals is on
Thanks,
<PERSON>
|
87081a08-c062-3cd1-c0f7-c163c4fc790d
|
['009349f7-4277-f06d-9a60-27dc12f21661']
|
Hello.
I'm trying to install Debian Etch, which I got from
http://cdimage.debian.org/cdimage/weekly-builds/i386/iso-dvd/ (the DVD
ISos were dated 5th june).
While installing, I choosed the expert mode, and followed the steps..
When I came to the step where it asks me about the "Partition method",
It only shows one option, "Manually edit partition table". This step
looks this: http://shots.osdir.com/slideshows/658/11.gif , except it
only got the last option.
Then I proceeded (to the only available option).. Well, that step does
not list any of my hard drives, the step is like this:
http://shots.osdir.com/slideshows/658/13.gif , but it only shows the
four first options and the two last.. (so everything except the devices).
What I want to do, is to install on an already existing partition.. But
I'm stuck, I can't seem to find how to get Debian Installer to get along
with my SATA drives.
And also, I went to the console by using ALT+F2, tried to mount my
partition typing mount /dev/sda1 /mnt/sda1, and it worked fine. So it's
supported by the kernel, but it seems Debian Installer just refuses to
find them..
For the record, I found a FAQ (located here:
http://wiki.debian.org/DebianInstaller/FAQ#head-a5623cd5a3ec3d8d6a1eef09e3e4c00f911f8b18),
that says SATA is supported in Etch, so I find this weird.
Thanks,
<PERSON>
|
3c1c408e-3aff-8555-19ec-c7055e5c53d9
|
['009349f7-4277-f06d-9a60-27dc12f21661']
|
Hey. It seems that cookie handling doesnt allow using cookies beetween
sessions.
I want to know if it's possible to change it to save the cookies, and
reuse them on other queries to the same domain?
And I figured that if I get a location, it's no way to avoid it. Could
there be a feature to not follow Locations?
Some thing i figured is that, wget tries to add the remote timestamp by
default, and there is no option to turn it off. Could there be a way to
turn that off, and use the local timestamp (current time)?
Thanks,
<PERSON>
|
75fff60f-e580-92df-7da4-de93921065f1
|
['009a6e28-10e6-dae0-42a2-dd15afbd4595']
|
Dear subscribers,
I haven't found much information about org-crypt and org-mobile-crypt. Will
these topics be expanded in the org-manual?
I would be delighted if anyone could teach me (informatively) how to succeed
with the following two tasks:
1. Encrypt a "password-table" I keep in an org-file when saved to disk,
while text would be plain in the buffer. (Best if it can be "transparent"
without passwords, but that is not a must.)
2. Encrypt files on the Dropbox server, in a "transparent" way, so that I do
not need to use passwords to sync between org and Iphone (which I let Emacs
do automatically once each day).
Thanks in advance,
<PERSON>
|
86d93a4d-0027-e0cf-2091-58ffda897386
|
['009a6e28-10e6-dae0-42a2-dd15afbd4595']
|
Hi,
Does MobileOrg support "reminders", like a buzz from the phone 10 (or a
customizable number of) minutes before any appointment from the agenda?
I haven't used MobileOrg much yet on my Iphone, but think I would use such a
feature. More experienced users are free to argue why this wouldn't be
useful.
I would like it to be optionable in the form of a switch, so that can either
be switched on or off.
<PERSON>
|
f50c6cdf-650c-e8f6-48a4-c312aefb8f18
|
['009da179-a956-f84d-d468-1312380f98fd']
|
Hi. We're getting reports like this:
This is a recurring issues and this is the fourth person I have heard from who is having this problem with AccessPharmacy. I have spoken with our rep <PERSON>, but she really didn't have much of an answer citing possible idle times and third-party content maintenance as the only possible resons for this happening, neither of which seems very likely. Does anyone have any idea why this is happening for full-text content, particularly for animations?
and
I am trying to use access pharmacy--it will let me get into the textbook but not view animations or see the full text because it says I need to log in. This happens to me about 1 out of 3 times I try to use it.
We have the vendor-recommended ezproxy stanza. Has anyone else dealt with this?
Thanks very much.
<PERSON>
Library Technologist
Cowles Library, Drake University
2507 University Avenue
Des Moines, IA 50311 USA
<PHONE_NUMBER>
|
ba7c531b-8692-cca4-5a0c-c8218fd2ca8b
|
['009da179-a956-f84d-d468-1312380f98fd']
|
Thanks to <PERSON>, <PERSON>, <PERSON> and <PERSON>, I understand this is legitimate, necessary and time sensitive. This is coming, of course, right smack in the middle of our finals week so I won't actually do anything that impacts database access until after this weekend (last papers seem to be due Sat AM).
If anyone has done the certificate update, are fairly reasonable instructions provided by ipsCA? Would there be merit in posting some sort of general or specific guidelines to the list if someone could share their experience?
I've gotten two notices, one for IIS/Server 2008 and one for Apache2/Linux. Apache is the proxy and I won't do it yet but I'll initiate my IIS update immediately and share my experience.
Marc Davis
Systems Associate
Cowles Library, Drake University
2507 University Avenue
Des Moines, IA 50311 USA
<PHONE_NUMBER>
Marc Davis
Systems Associate
Cowles Library, Drake University
2507 University Avenue
Des Moines, IA 50311 USA
<PHONE_NUMBER>
|
39492cc2-8abf-b7a5-db10-832c887375fb
|
['00ae60b9-235e-2968-00a1-8325c753fafa']
|
Hello developers,
i registered a new machine-type some time ago and now
i'd like to add patches to Russells Patch Sytem.
This machine is a DIMM-Module from Keith&Koep with
PXA270. An evaluation board comes with this module
on which many connectors are mounted.
But before i commit i show my work to the community.
Please feel free to comment the following patches.
If there is no objection i'll commit that stuff for mainline.
It consists of five parts
- core
- eth
- flash
- pcmcia
- ide-cf
<PERSON>
|
4a46afaf-f22f-5bb2-6de6-5cc365155f65
|
['00ae60b9-235e-2968-00a1-8325c753fafa']
|
Ok this thing is a bit tricky. I also patched uboot
bootloader that he is initialising PCMCIA sockets
and registers. So if PCMCIA is set up i can access
the Compact-Flash card that you can put in the ConXS
board via a memory-mapped region of the PXA270
(PXA255 worked too). This patch does nothing else than
defining some locations as IDE-registers and i have a
generic IDE-interface. Of course the PCMCIA function
is unused in this case. And it works.
<PERSON>
|
2e71af3f-e22a-59a9-45ad-777a27d49af8
|
['00cdc7b0-cdba-5ad5-3ae2-4cd653e8d2a1']
|
Hi <PERSON>,
I think you should mesh your a quarter model using Patran software. create the model with all parts and mesh it this type of elements (C3D20R it is very suitable for contact). Once it completed use the input file generated by Patran with a little modefication and run it in abaqus (You will get the geometry with nodes and elements).
The indenter which is rigid surface you should create it in ABQUS.
I hope it works
<PERSON>
|
77fd87d6-f55d-a4ce-cd9b-f6b19f958838
|
['00cdc7b0-cdba-5ad5-3ae2-4cd653e8d2a1']
|
Hi everybody,
I would like to ask a question regarding <PERSON> or viewer ;
I have node set called hoop was created using "Path" command in circumferential direction. I tried to obtain the deformed coordinates of theses nodes (in node set hoop) in cyliderical direction but unfortunity I failed.
Does any one know how you can obtain the deformed coordinate of this node set without using the probe?or is there any other way much easier than using the probe to write the orginal and deformed coordinates?
Many thanks
<PERSON>
|
adbc0550-7332-11db-5b6b-d683189818ef
|
['00cf9cd3-d7db-324e-d401-d638d22dc28d']
|
Hi
I have setup an alert for inotify to alert for changes to roots ssh
authorized keys file. It all works fine and alerts when a change has been
made . My question is that once I investigate the change and happy with the
change made , how do I reset the alert back to 'OK' so subsequent changes
are alerted? I cant see any obvious way to do this?
Using Check_MK EE 1.4.0p27
Many thanks
<PERSON>
|
57647e29-8f6c-ffde-c06a-1e55242dc0f4
|
['00cf9cd3-d7db-324e-d401-d638d22dc28d']
|
On v1.5p11 EE , the process check (ps ) reports a process as using 300%
"total CPU" , the host has 6 cores but surely the total CPU usage for that
should be 50% ( ie each core is 16.6% of the total ).
Looking at the ps and ps.include code , there is provision for this but
only on windows hosts , for any other OS the default is set to 1 core and
there is no further calculation to change that.
Has anyone else noticed this??
Thanks
<PERSON>
|
93baf864-5a8a-61bf-8770-fd7bf15f7f8f
|
['00dacdc3-6fa6-6cfd-d8b3-1419d0bef134']
|
sorry for resending this, I accidentally attached the message to an
unrelated thread before
Hi
I managed to write a macro that imports multi channel images from our
'Jenoptik' camera (on a fluorescence microscope) that works with
'ProgRes Capture Pro' as user interface. With this software, each
acquisition is saved as a fileset of one TIF per channel in 'parallel'
subfolders. The ImageJ macro makes it easy to collect all the TIFs into
a hyperstack using the subfolders' titles as labels. Definetely nothing
to start a Fiji update site for, but it might make someones life easier,
so I would send the macro code to those interested.
Christian
|
96bcb3ab-3f5b-2b19-4c6a-ab397ebea641
|
['00dacdc3-6fa6-6cfd-d8b3-1419d0bef134']
|
Dear list
when I use 3D Viewer to view volumes out of an image stack I am not able
to shift the view. According to the documentation, you drag with the
left mouse button while the hand tool is active. But instead of shifting
the object, any movement of the mouse makes the object disappear rapidly
to the right, out of the viewer window. You can get it back by
'view>center selected' but it is not shifted. I get the same result,
using the bat cochlea sample stack in updated FIJI win 32, lifeline
version of 2013 of Fiji win 32 and on lifeline version of 2014 on Fiji
win 64 on a more powerful machine. Am I missing any important settings
or options that I have to change so that 3D viewer would act as
documented? Any useful hints?
Thank you so much
<PERSON>
|
6793d3d8-d7fb-4316-187c-188c3bc9b8d2
|
['00f0f646-e0af-3ae7-289b-386a99eb9b71']
|
Hi,
attached test case shows the bug. Instead of correctly overriding the first
character in the field, the character is appended at the end of the text.
The cause is the incorrect state left by:
- set_field_back
- _nc_Synchronize_Attributes
- Undo_Justification
When changing a field attribute the field needs to be redrawn. If the field
would normally be justified but no is the current field, justification will be
dropped and the function "Undo_Justification" will be called.
Otherwise "Buffer_To_Window" is called. The function "Buffer_To_Window" resets
the coordinates of the window cursor to that state before it was called. The
function "Undo_Justification" does not do that.
Therefore after the call of "set_field_back" the field is in a state of a
correct curcol (=0) but an incorrect window cursor (=end of text).
Maybe "Undo_Justification" should also properly reset the window cursor of its
drawing operation.
Regards,
<PERSON>
|
97ed39af-2969-b980-96b5-68fdbfe4c166
|
['00f0f646-e0af-3ae7-289b-386a99eb9b71']
|
Hi <PERSON>,
currently when entering data into fields the cursor position (in insert mode) is
advanced by one position after a character is inserted. If we are reaching the
end of the field, scrolling is applied so that the cursor position is always
inside the field boundary. This behavior makes it clear at which position the
next character will be put but is has a certain disadvantage:
At the boundary we lose one character of displayed information (which is
scrolled out). This problem is especially bad when the field is only one
character in width. When inserting we never see the input since the cursor is
immediately advanced. We can manually scroll back to verify the input (which is
cumbersome).
Other non-ncurses terminal application have come up with a different approach.
When inserting before the boundary, the cursor is not immediately advanced but
it stays. This way we can see the input of fields with width=1. Unfortunately
the in this state the user cannot infer the exact state by visual inspection
since the cursor is diplayed on the last character he might assume the next
character will be inserted before the displayed character (in insert mode).
Since the ncurses scrolling and cursor setting is split up I accidentally came
up with a somewhat combined approach:
When inserting up to the boundary position we just delay the scrolling, so the
last inserted character will remain visible but still then still advance the
cursor (in this case then one character outside of the field boundary). This
might seem strange at first but provides both the advantage of seeing the
inserted character in one-character fields as well as knowing what the internal
state is and where the next character will be inserted.
I am aware that probably many people do not care about this cornercase but we
do. I implemented the aforementioned new behavior with a new field_opt. See
patch attached.
Regards,
<PERSON>
|
8f3eeed2-d342-d79a-a8d8-65193648e88b
|
['00fcf9c8-7d45-5103-c1af-a452f14ecd03']
|
I am using 4D 2004.5. I just searched both the design ref and the language
ref for every use of the term Standard Action, in the hope of finding the
answer to the following question: If a button has both a standard action and
an object method, does the standard action happen before or after the object
method is executed? Can you believe that the question is never answered?!!.
If you know for sure, please tell me.
<PERSON>
|
66002eb5-9f7f-7763-ffb9-ec99f8875cbb
|
['00fcf9c8-7d45-5103-c1af-a452f14ecd03']
|
In 4D 2004.6 on Windows I have a button in an entry form whose Long Integer
variable name is bAdd Disorder_L. In the entry form method I have the
following code that executes at On Load form event.
If (Test for condition)
ENABLE BUTTON (bAdd Disorder_L)
Else
DISABLE BUTTON (bAdd Disorder_L)
End if.
I watch it in the debugger as it executes the DISABLE BUTTON command, but
when the entry form is displayed the button is enabled, not disabled. I have
made sure that there is no code anywhere that enables that button. I have
triple-checked that the buttons variable name is exactly what I am using in
the code.
Can anyone suggest why the button is not getting disabled?
<PERSON>
|
0fb853d3-cdc4-17fe-7f87-bad33a3bc44c
|
['00fdecfe-e2c4-49aa-f149-88935dd12f22']
|
<PERSON>,
The document at Korg states the following:
http://www.korg.com/karma/2.0info.htm
"Controller functions, including KRTC knobs, switches and Chord Triggers
now can be assigned to the optional foot switch and foot pedal."
Do I take this to mean "any" midi controller number can be assigned to
the foot pedal or only those of the existing switches, knobs and chord
triggers. If this is so, that would be a truly awesome feature for me,
one that I asked about months ago and would bring the features I have
requested count to 3 for the new OS :)
Thanks,
<PERSON>
|
bbe33d01-1232-effe-6b9d-8e609a347328
|
['00fdecfe-e2c4-49aa-f149-88935dd12f22']
|
I saw this new software and thought this is really timely. I have been
thinking about picking up a Triton Rack as I am getting limited on
space but didn't really want to let the Karma features go (as I would
have to sell it to replace it with a rack). Not sure If I understand the
features of the new Karam Triton software since the feature list is not
really clear on this but, would it give me Karma functionality if I were
to sell my Karma keyboard and pick up a Triton Rack or does it still
require a Karma keyboard to be useful.
Thanks,
Don
|
6ed17219-c253-0f49-7bdf-af187a28f17d
|
['01047da1-3b20-43e7-cb06-4eedbf824138']
|
Hi all,
I'm looking for the most suitable solution to grant the access token for
accessing our cloud service API for clients which is a windows application
with no internet browsing capability itself (though it can be installed on
a PC with access to internet). After some research, it seems the device
profile (http://tools.ietf.org/html/draft-recordon-oauth-v2-device-00) is
the flow addressing the closest use case to ours (but still not exact).
Could someone please advise whether it is a good idea for us to follow this
draft (is it still active?) for the OAuth flow for our use case, or else
does someone know which should be the best flow that we should follow
instead?
Thanks in advance!
<PERSON>
|
f6451ca3-3074-50ed-770e-a590723ea19f
|
['01047da1-3b20-43e7-cb06-4eedbf824138']
|
Hi <PERSON>,
Thanks for your reply.
Actually I am new to OAuth and am simply trying to search for the best
industrial practice for granting access tokens when the client to our
application API is a simple windows applications, which in most cases runs
on PC's with web browser installed.
Therefore the scenario doesn't quite match what is described in the
document, as the user doesn't need a separate machine to perform the
verification; it's just that the client application doesn't have internet
browsing capability itself (in this sense it's similar to the "device"
described in this document, though not quite) and so user needs to launch a
separate browser application.
I ended up on this device profile spec just because it seems to match
closer to our scenario when compared to the 4 cases described in the OAuth
2 spec, but it could be the case that I didn't understand it fully.
Maybe I should rephrase my question: could someone please advice what
should be the best practice for granting OAuth tokens to clients which are
native windows applications?
Thanks.
<PERSON>
|
1a75fbfa-c692-0695-0f31-cae2de66eb6e
|
['011bdae9-a774-883c-e280-448ab688be5c']
|
Hi,
I have multiple responses y1, y2, .., yn, and would like to do linear
regression for each of them with x1, x2, ..., xm. Instead of doing
regression n times, it it possible to do it all at once?
I tried lm(y1+y2 ~ x1 + x2 + x3) and lm added y1 y2 and then did the
regression.
thanks
<PERSON>
|
9800d2c7-ca72-713b-e2ac-3aed09301d74
|
['011bdae9-a774-883c-e280-448ab688be5c']
|
Hi,
I am tackling a computing problem in R that involves large data. Both time
and memory issues need to be seriously considered. Below is the problem
description and my tentative approach. I would appreciate if any one can
share thoughts on how to solve this problem more efficiently.
I have 1001 multidimensional arrays -- A, B1, ..., B1000. A takes about
500MB in memory and B_i takes 100MB. I need to run an experiment that
evaluates a function f(A, B_i) for all B_i. f(A, B_i) doesn't change A, B_i
during its evaluation. These evaluations are independent for all i. I also
need to design various evaluation functions. Thus these kind of experiments
need to be performed often.
My computing environment is a 64bit Linux, 64GB memory, 8 core PC. My goal
is to do multiple experiments quickly given the existing equipments.
One possible approach is to run a R process that loads A and use a parallel
library like foreach and mc to load B_i and compute f(A, B_i). The problems
with this approach are that each time foreach splits a new process it has to
1) copy the whole A array and 2) load B_i from disk to memory using io.
Since f(A, B_i) doesn't change A, B_i, would it be possible to do in R 1)
share A across different processes and 2) use memory mapped file to load B_i
(even A at the beginning)
Any suggestions would be appreciated.
<PERSON>
|
cebd47fa-0943-3de6-4348-3fefd0e38859
|
['011eea27-e863-d02a-1ff4-f70628bb259a']
|
Hello,
I am writing an eclipse-based editor for a tiny domain language using
antlr. I do understand the basic editing eclipse technology. However, I am
trying to learn how to use antlr facility as the model for syntax
highlighting, completion etc. I have seen only some anectodal evidence of
the work done already in this field and would appreciate either the
pointers to the existing code or general design suggestions.
Thank you very much.
<PERSON>
|
d75673d2-8ea7-3dcb-8d09-d1ae0ebb2a16
|
['011eea27-e863-d02a-1ff4-f70628bb259a']
|
Hello,
For my domain language editor I need to determine programmatically the
available functions and display them for the user. Currently I am extending
from the generated MyLexer and add in the child class add a public method
getLiterals(), which is a public getter for the protected literals
hashTable. Is this a "recommended" approach?
Thanks a lot.
<PERSON>
|
9e078062-2e83-da20-2e78-d7b8738f536d
|
['012cfc12-0fde-e842-e1e5-bd446282e552']
|
Hi all,
You all have orders in however <PERSON> tells me I
have to work late as a critical server running NT4
(dang) has gone down and needs super MCSE to fix it.
I'm going to have to work late and may not be able to
adjudicate tonight, therefore I'm bumping the
adjudication 24 hours until:
Thursday 30th November 9PM GMT
Apologies for this.
<PERSON>
|
5f12730a-cdc3-8f92-aa06-c6abb5b41251
|
['012cfc12-0fde-e842-e1e5-bd446282e552']
|
Hi all,
Now the dust has well and truly settled I'd just like
to add my thanks to all of you for such an enjoyable
game, apologies again for taking my eye off the ball a
few times and to say how thoroughly enjoyable and eye
opening it was to read all your EOG statements.
Finally, good luck to <PERSON> in the final!!!
Catch you 'round.
<PERSON>
|
3fbadb5d-75be-4af8-4c69-5681535dc6f8
|
['01550198-e861-ee33-47bc-566a43fc87a5']
|
Dear <PERSON>
you see <PERSON>'s rejoinder on <PERSON> finally converted even me to liking
accronyms.
I did not presume your age, only your maturity because age has nothing to
with growing up, only with growing old. I hear loud and clear - that you
will not look kindly upon anyone to seeks to undermine or destroy that -
that being your nurturing - whether by word, act or film. But tell me are
you not completely delighted by the delightful picture <PERSON> draws? Of
cheerfully cleaning toilets while whistling a tune with a person whose
gender or nationality is unknown? Don't you feel like joining in? Even if he
whistled the international? And badly?
I felt so tempted. And I know my five year old daughter called <PERSON> would love to join in too. Even if she can't whistle. Kids love
feeling happy. And doing things together with adults when everyone is
cheerful. So even if you can't grow up, can you at least connect to the
child in you? That child in all of us who loves to feel happy?
I was going to sleep but couldn't resist writing to you to thank you for
provoking the long mail on hyenas. I have not enjoyed something so much in
recent times.
thanks,
<PERSON>, claiming a membership of S.H.I.T. and still refusing allegiances
|
d0b45160-cba2-43bf-d904-0e94e1d46346
|
['01550198-e861-ee33-47bc-566a43fc87a5']
|
Dear all,
I write to invite you for a film festival that Magic Lantern Foundation
(www.magiclanternfoundation.org) and India International Centre
(www.iicdelhi.nic.in) are organising in New Delhi from 28 30 April 2008 at
the India International Centre, and apologies for cross posting.
The festival called Persistence Resistance: a festival of contemporary
political films will screen over 100 films in a multitude of spaces. A write
up and schedule of the film festival is available at:
www.magiclanternfoundation.org
The festival aims to create a cinema space that celebrates the diverse
nature of films in India today. The idea is to showcase the range of
subjects and forms the films work with, and to interrogate the emerging
aesthetics of political filmmaking.
The festival will also carry a section on international documentaries in an
attempt to explore the notions of internationalism in the present day
scenario of neo-liberal globalisation.
Simultaneously the festival will present films in multiple ways of seeing,
interacting and engaging by creating installations, outdoor screenings and
small intimate screening spaces along with regular auditorium screenings.
Additionally, over three evenings we explore the linkages between art,
literature, theatre, comics, animation and censorship with films.
If you are in Delhi during those days I will be delighted if you can attend.
Also please also circulate the information about the film festival to others
who may be interested.
<PERSON>
|
746d94c8-ca04-28d0-d535-6fa84196f62b
|
['015d7cd9-cec0-4686-8242-5eaca1349149']
|
Hi all,
I try to set up a Tor private network. I found two tutorials online (
http://liufengyun.chaos-lab.com/prog/2015/01/09/private-tor-network.html
and https://ritter.vg/blog-run_your_own_tor_network.html) but seems that
they both are outdated. Could anyone please give me a tutorial or some
hints on building a private Tor network? Another question is: what is the
minimum number of required directory authorities for a private Tor network?
I am wondering if one directory authority is enough.
Thanks
|
6c999812-e065-6b89-2896-aae34cba32df
|
['015d7cd9-cec0-4686-8242-5eaca1349149']
|
Hi all,
I am working on a project that needs to do some modifications on the source
code of Tor, to add functionalities to Tor relay. To debug I used <PERSON> setup Tor network locally, and checked the logs of the relay. But it is
still painful and slow: I need to restart the script, and wait the network
to be up every time I make changes. My question is: is there any fast way
to test/debug the functionalities of Tor relay?
Thanks!
|
006b3cbf-2fc1-82ea-b126-cdf69371cd97
|
['015fbe16-29f1-aa08-593a-683aa4957b50']
|
My wife has a Canon multi-function F-30
copier/scanner/fax and it can't
handle a network install as the scanner cannot deal
with where to send the
output. It is a great machine even makes color copies
well. It does guzzle
ink though. Canon at least uses individual ink
cartridges so you only
replace the specific color that is out. To keep this
on topic she uses it
connected to a ThinkPad T-23.
<PERSON>
|
52cd45f2-f8d9-0e35-c723-f0b72f517a21
|
['015fbe16-29f1-aa08-593a-683aa4957b50']
|
I have a multi charger from APC which came with a laptop backpack or case a couple of years ago, it actually has a variable voltage output (user set not circuitry) and a usb slot on the brick portion which also came with a short usb splitter cable allowing two usb powered devices to be charged from the brick, it has powered my R-40 for at least 5 years, and came with multiple adapters for Air/Car/Home, as well as multiple tips for the laptop end. I don't know if it is still made, but I assumed that their experience in battery backup and power conditioning made theirs a safe replacement for the standard Thinkpad brick.
<PERSON>
|
0810eba7-d260-a3b2-ffbc-f9d76c00927d
|
['0178c608-77f0-95ee-12c0-8cc0213b33a4']
|
Sorry, i've searched the network but i cannot think of the right
wording to get the right results.
I've just started with api maps and my intention is to build a map of
europe with individuals placing their location on giving an indication
of satellite dish size needed for specific television channels/
broadcasts.
I want them to click, place a marker/pointer, then answer some simple
questions like location, dish size, receiving satellite1a etc. (no
much detail required, the dish size is more important).
Could anyone give me some ideas on how to do this, i've mastered
getting the map to default to a 'zoom4' over europe to fit it all in,
but thats as far as i've got.
Any help appreciated.
<PERSON>
|
70402bb3-e743-98d4-8cd4-749d9dccbb7c
|
['0178c608-77f0-95ee-12c0-8cc0213b33a4']
|
Hi <PERSON>,
That is exactly the kind of thing i'm looking for, but have no idea
how to implement it!
I can see the 'gm_markers_from_db.php' is the visable page viewed on
the web, and that 'gm_markers_from_db.php.txt' is the code, but how
are the two sets of code linked <PERSON>, i cannot see this in the
coding at all! Also, which part of code do i need to enter my
coordinates into to get it to focus on europe (i have the coords
already).
Any help appreciated, this is all very new to me but could work out
well.
Cheers,
<PERSON>
|
18c54370-0ab2-4dc2-f724-ad0fc577e282
|
['018e65b4-6960-acb3-f808-7b3729cb1161']
|
Dear Sirs,
We know your company through internet. I'd like to take this special opportunity to introduce our company briefly here.
Eag Standard International Co., Ltd.is a joint venture production plant specialized in developing, manufacturing of MP3 PLAYERS, USB FLASH DISK,PC CAMERA, which is located in Shenzhen, China.
We have a strict control system in production and delivery, which can bring so much convenience in a deal. Our products have been exported to world-wide area, and its high quality and competitive price has won great recognition and highly praise from our global customers.
You are also kindly advised to view our website at http://www.eagstand.com for more details.We can offer the pricelist of the products which you are interested in.
It will be highly appreciated if you can give us a reply when you have any needs that we can supply.We are looking forward to establishing long-term and friendly business relationship with you in an early date.
If you have any question please feel free to contact us,we'd like to make friends with you!
Best Regards,
Sincerely yours,
|
3adf7622-8344-b64c-c2f5-c7126fba7d4a
|
['018e65b4-6960-acb3-f808-7b3729cb1161']
|
Dear Sirs,
We know your company through internet. I'd like to take this special opportunity to introduce our company briefly here.
Eag Standard International Co., Ltd., which is located in Shenzhen, China, has many years' experience in manufacturing and exporting promotional gifts such as keyrings, bottle openers, insignias, desk clocks, letter openers, card holders etc. We have a strict control system in production and delivery, which can bring so much convenience in a deal. Our products have been exported to world-wide area, and its high quality and competitive price has won great recognition and highly praise from our global customers.
You are also kindly advised to view our website at http://www.eagstandard.com for more details.We can offer the pricelist of the products which you are interested in.
It will be highly appreciated if you can give us a reply when you have any needs that we can supply.We are looking forward to establishing long-term and friendly business relationship with you in an early date.
If you have any question please feel free to contact us,we'd like to make friends with you!
Best Regards,
Sincerely yours,
|
d060d085-eceb-3392-21ef-91443580407e
|
['01917fe1-6091-3d2e-932c-5cbf28b4fc0f']
|
I used the Tools > Relationships and dragged/drug the field in one table to
the matching field in the other table, just like in MS Access.
The second table was done the same way.
I now have a lot of different tables with relationships between them. When
I create the forms for data entry to these various tables it causes the same
error because of the deleted table. I had created another table and set up
the relationships for it and when I kept getting the error, I renamed the
new table to the old table that had been deleted but it still didn't work.
The problem seems to be with the SYS_FK_xxx tables that didn't get deleted
when I deleted the table. Do you know where these tables are located and
how they can be manually deleted/edited?
Thanks
|
19a13e75-4515-50df-e10d-fb2de8554e2c
|
['01917fe1-6091-3d2e-932c-5cbf28b4fc0f']
|
Greetings:
I have a form with a listbox that has people's names and their ID from the
database. I am trying to get the ID from that list for the selected person
so I can use it in ORM statements: I.E. v1 = Visit.objects.filter(person_id
= ??) where ?? is the ID from the select list.
Has anyone had any experience on how I can accomplish this?
Thanks.
|
972599a9-d43b-f858-71a5-70b79c267c12
|
['0196579d-5287-570d-041a-bd8951818292']
|
Hi all,
when creating a a new cooja simulation using collect-example.c It´s
possible visualize some files compiling like trickle.h and mrhof.c, among
others
So I imagine these files are used by collect-example.c file but when I put
printf within these files functions nothing is printed
So, I have two questions
1) Can I use any file function that is compiled by cooja simulator after
create, add nodes and compile a code example without use include?
2) What´s the best way for code debugging instead printf in cooja?
thanks
|
190e01c0-2544-83c1-e348-95324702f534
|
['0196579d-5287-570d-041a-bd8951818292']
|
Hello Guys
Someone could tell me how to setup the mobility cooja app. I've read the
instructions but they are not very consistent since it says the folowing:
* setup the project directories
settings/Manage project directories/Enter path manually:
../apps/mobility/
Save as default
* quit COOJA
and Manage project directories does not exist, nevertheless I've
setup cooja extensions and again the instructions aren't clear since
it says:
Using mobility in simulations
* Create a new simulation
* Start mobility
plugins/Mobility
A textbox should appear with text like "Parsing positions.dat" etc
* Add nodes and start the simulation!
Cooja gui doesn't have plugins/mobility option, so if you could help
I'll appreciate
Here is the mobility app link with instructions
https://github.com/cetic/6lbr/tree/master/tools/cooja/apps/mobility
Thanks,
Fabio Kzovisk
|
b905c539-8791-387c-d3c4-9bf25f79d45a
|
['0199c0e1-1655-0673-d14e-2e63e3da5722']
|
Hi,
do anybody know where are maintained driver sources?
I found only http://www.marlow.dk/site.php/tech/madwifi, it's also
contacts (non-functional) CVS server on SourceForge, and link on
http://madwifiwiki.thewebhost.de/wiki/ to the tarball madwifi-20030802.tgz
I tried this sources. Compiling and instaling ok (on reboot can see
device ath0), BUT when I try to setup IP address or change wlan
parameters, I get 'Segmantation fault' and on console I can see dumps of
CPU registers, stacks etc.
Maybe it is old (defered) version of driver source, but can't find the
latest :-( I'm using Debian Woody, kernel 2.4.25 (with some patches for
Netfilter), hardware is Aopen AX4SG-UN with Celer 2GHz
Patas
|
910890f5-15aa-a575-e0b1-f9f02c874dbc
|
['0199c0e1-1655-0673-d14e-2e63e3da5722']
|
Hi,
I have built last release of WISP (patch 33) without any modification of
sources. During boot I get this messages (see bottom). I'm compiling od
Debian Woody (stable) Linux
gcc 2.95
glibc 2.2.5-11.5
I'm using .bin image on CF card. When I use prebuilt image (release or
patch 30) from your website, everthing is ok. I tried to use WISP on
WRAP board from PC Engines with SC1100 CPU (x86 compat.)
Can you help me?
Thanks
<PERSON>
|
0eafebae-8f9f-ac4c-06b5-ebbb28bec099
|
['01aba430-dcf5-e03b-e156-186d7f6f5d4e']
|
Just thought remembered today that all of you latex users (like me)
would like to know about latexdiff
(http://www.ctan.org/tex-archive/support/latexdiff/). This perl script
compares two versions of a latex document and generates another latex
file which, when compiled, has the differences highlighted. Although
latex sometimes complains a little when compiling the diff file, its
works reasonably well. I have used it for some time to help my
co-authors visualize what changed in a paper.
Best,
|
a1608728-4a16-4fb2-a7c3-d407b9861bd6
|
['01aba430-dcf5-e03b-e156-186d7f6f5d4e']
|
Hi everyone!
I was trying to install the VMware player in my computer but it needs
to compile a few modules specifically to my kernel (2.6.14), so I was
wondering if anyone knows of a repository where I can get the package.
I tried to use other kernels but they fail to configure property my
ethernet connection, this is why I need to stick with this one.
Thanks,
|
c656b8ce-7414-873a-89b0-e1c46272e223
|
['01cb303a-28ab-9186-f227-999fd1a9c26a']
|
Hello all:
Being a teacher in technical school for at least 8 years or so teaching the old and classic 8080/8085 then with a lot of materials already available and good textbooks (some composed by myself for class use) I have had the ease of classroom delivery for a first course in microprocessors to non-EE or non-science majors or simply first timers trade school students here at (www.cite.edu.ph) when I was there now I work as researcher in a university (www.nip.upd.edu.ph/ipl).
The new manual for Ethernut Board and Software has been a dramatic improvement I think specially for beginners like me to on Embedded TCP/IP hardware and the AVR. Much of the material is really quite advanced for ordinary hobbiest and possibly to many struggling school teachers in the third world -- but they have to move on and teach anyway new things!
So I would like to suggest that a section or an addendum be written by the author or experienced member of this forum for demonstrating (in pictorial or block diagram form) on how to connect, dump code, run and specially on how to do an on line debug using hyperterminal in conjunction with a compiler. This would really help a lot.
There is an old Chinese proverb that goes " I listen and heard very little...I speak and talked very little...I do and I learn a lot..."
Ethernut and NutOS is entirely experienced driven and it's power of use (and creativity for application) is entirely dependent of on one's experience...
Yours Sincerely,
<PERSON>
|
2a43235a-3823-8a23-029b-ef86f999c289
|
['01cb303a-28ab-9186-f227-999fd1a9c26a']
|
Hello list:
This seems to be missing in the latest version on NUT/OS API docs? I
couldn't figure out how to pass the correct parameters to the function
prototype static void TwInterrupt (void *arg) for twif.c Revision 1.4
2003/11/03? Following the usual psuedocode of I2C that is Initialize
I2C, Start Bit, Clock Data, Check acknowledge and send Stop bit. How do
use the function prototypes in TWIF.C to do exactly the stops above? My
application requires that I Read/Write to an External EEPROM connected
to Port D's SDA & SCL pins.
Thank you an please help a newbie!
Berns B.
|
c2cc7435-7cf6-4b5d-3bbd-4997e0e9c33a
|
['01cd24b7-b7ff-ee33-a731-d1ab1a17853b']
|
Hello.
Here's a feature suggestion: when previewing a modified page, display
links to redirections in a different color.
Currently we only see if the link exists or not. But i think we should
try to link straight to 'the right page', and not to a redirection page,
so seeing if we link to a redirection would help.
I don't say redirect are evil, just that if we can avoid using'em, it's
better...
Just my 2 cents of € :)
<PERSON>
|
8f5bbdca-5443-e9e1-914c-ddc657ec0465
|
['01cd24b7-b7ff-ee33-a731-d1ab1a17853b']
|
Hi everyone.
I'm rather new on the mailing lists, but have been playing with Wikipedia (mostly french one) for some months now.
I have some ideas of features, and would like to discuss them here.
1) Something to simplify creation of navigation bars
We sometimes have lists (at least on the fr part !), like 'Countries of the world' which has subpages like 'Countries of the world starting by A', '...B', and so on.
It would be great to have some special tags to generate the list automatically.
For instance:
<wikilist('Countries of the world starting by $1', 'ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ', 'A', ' | ')>
would yield a list like:
'''A''' | [[Countries of the world starting by B|B]] | ... | [[Countries of the world starting by Z|Z]]
That would come handy, simplify the writing of lists, and make it easy to change its style (one line instead of >26 for each article ! )
2) Have external links, and/or inter-Wiki links, open in a new window
Maybe an option in preferences ?
3) Some cosmetics things, but could be fun for the look.
Have different pics style (like theme, but for defining how many pics there are), like:
* no pics at all
* regular pics
* old-encyclopedy style, first letter of a paragraph is a nice hand-drawn big letter, horizontal rules are pics, and so on.
That would (imo !) give a nice look to the articles...
<PERSON>
|
c78aab94-e053-893c-b2d7-3471bef55d29
|
['01d6a5a1-cf5d-7769-1a3a-791db7483a3c']
|
Hello Rails List!
Thanks to those who commented on my prior thread about credit card
handling; some smart, smart people on this list.
Here's another one for you: I have a client for whom I'm building a
site. They insist on using their existing webhost, which runs PHP
4.3. OK, cool.
Luckily, for now, the site is going to be largely static. I could
use, say, Dreamweaver and build everything using Dreamweaver
templates, but I would much rather hang the site off Rails for the
following reasons:
1) Dreamweaver is US$400. Rails, SVN, and a text editor are free.
2) I'm likely to be more productive in Rails, since I haven't touched
Dreamweaver or its templating system for a few years.
3) Building it in Rails today offers a degree of futureproofing, for
when the client calls me 6 months from now and says "we'd like to add
a blog, a booking system, a forms repository, and oh... can we have
the ability to edit everything over the web?"
4) OMGWTFBBQ. Rails is, like, my BFF xoxoxox <3
Then I got to thinking... I wonder if there's a way to build a Rails
site (which doesn't use POST requests), and then dump the whole thing
out – links, media, and all – to a set of static pages and files for
launch on a plain webserver? I did a little searching on the web and
on the Rails list; there were some folks a while back talking about
using httrack, or wget to create a static mirror of a running Rails
site. I gave it a shot with wget, and it showed some promise except
for a few bugaboos:
1) "http://mydomain.com/controller/action" will get saved into a file
named "action" in a "controller" directory. The lack of .htm
extension on the file causes at least one webserver I tried this on
to freak out and send the static file to the browser using a non-HTML
content type. This, in turn, causes the HTML source to be displayed
in the browser in plain text.
2) "http://mydomain.com/controller/action/" will fail (note the
trailing slash) since no "action" directory exists. #1 and #2 could
be solved if wget would simply save the output of "http://
mydomain.com/controller/action" to a file named "index.htm" in a
"controller/action" directory.
3) wget will save image/css/js files along with Rails' new
timestamping/cachebusting tack-on, resulting in filenames such as
"image.gif?44702193412". This will, of course, break the static site,
since the webserver strips everything after the "?" when trying to
access whatever file.
So – what do you think? Comments? Suggestions? Links to prior art
that I might have missed?
Cheers,
|
d5b5ac3f-eb65-af49-069a-736e9371283e
|
['01d6a5a1-cf5d-7769-1a3a-791db7483a3c']
|
Hello Railists and Rubyists,
I know that the topic of handling credit card numbers has been
expounded before on this list (I've searched the archives) but I want
to ask the question in a slightly different way, and get your feedback:
Previous discussions on the list center around what to do with the
card number *after* you have processed the credit card with a payment
gateway (PayFlow Pro, Authorize.net, etc...). In my case, I will
*not* be processing the payments in real time at all; what I need to
do is to store the credit card information, so that my client can log
into their site's backend to process orders manually by reading
credit card numbers off the web, and punching them into the POS
machine on their desk.
My plan is this:
1) protect against casual hijacking of the CC numbers by using 2-way
encryption, storing the salt somewhere other than in the database
2) delete the encrypted card number and CVV2 after each order is
marked as paid
Does anyone have any thoughts? Better ways to do this? Warnings?
Cheers,
|
c0621fd5-0a2b-4924-7b45-10bea986acbd
|
['01e2afdd-6a22-8da1-621b-372baff6fbab']
|
I've noticed that works on open source software are being classed
QA76.76.S46 (Shareware). While there is a provision for open source
software in the HF schedule (HF5548.38.O64), there seems to be none in
the QA schedule.
Leaving aside for the moment the somewhat muddier relationship between
'free' and 'open source,' (i.e. not all free software is open source,
and not all open source software is free, and not everyone agrees on the
principles or terminology--see
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alternative_terms_for_free_software),
classing works on open source with those on shareware seems pretty
clearly wrong:
Shareware, to use Wikipedia's definition, "refers to proprietary
software that is provided to users without payment on a trial basis and
is often limited by any combination of functionality, availability or
convenience" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shareware), while open
source, as the subject authority record for 'Open source software'
quotes, is "software whose source code is open to all, rather than
proprietary...software whose source code is publicly available along
with applications of that software."
Any thoughts on this?
<PERSON>
Technical Services Librarian
Bard Graduate Center
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dae34785-fb3b-25c5-904a-872f93e2fd2e
|
['01e2afdd-6a22-8da1-621b-372baff6fbab']
|
<PERSON>,
I don't know which model of Zebra printer you're using, but setting up the GX430t to work with the Connexion client was pretty straightforward. I recommend installing the driver appropriate to your model from Seagull Scientific (http://www.seagullscientific.com/aspx/thermal_95.aspx). You shouldn't need to use any additional software.
I can share my configuration with you off-list, if you like (your mileage may vary).
Best,
<PERSON>
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