text stringlengths 102 284k | nemo_id stringlengths 18 18 |
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The 100 Best Android Apps of 2013
Google Maps Free
This may seem like a no-brainer, but Google Maps is kind of fantastic. With just a few taps, this app will tell you exactly how to get to your destination. It even supports walking, bicycle, and mass transit directions—though these aren't always trustworthy. Recent updates have also improved its discovery powers, making it easier to see what's around you.
33 / 100 | dclm-gs1-010960000 |
note goibhniu <p>I've read about 1/3 of this and fully intend to finish it. Overall, I've given it ++. The following is intended as a constructive comment in the "RFC" sense. </p> <p> I think I self-identify with your stated audience, <em>Perl hackers that can already work with regular expressions, but don't have any formal Computer Science eduction, and don't really know how to parse things that are too complex for regular expressions</em>. I'm currently trying my hand at an applied parsing problem ([id://674283]). I got as far as I did searching CPAN for "parse" and reading the doc. I'd say I got to a practical (in the parse direction, not in the reverse direction), albeit simple solution. I learned alot more from [ikegami]'s [id://674305|reply]. I'm also learning from the documentation for [cpan://Parse::Marpa] </p> <p> The criticism is that I'm not sure I could have gotten to that level of practical results from yout tutorial. I think your tutorial has aimed a little high for the stated target audience. Terms like "deterministic finite automaton", "linear time", "Context Free Languages" and the whole "A bit more theory" section slow me down a little and make it a dense read. Having gone through the work I already went through, your tutorial is helpful and instructive, especially in defining some terms that the other sources have been throwing around. This gives me good academic material to compliment the quick-n-dirty applicable stuff I got from [cpan://Parse::RecDescent]'s documentation, et al.. </p> <p> Just to be clear, I find this to be immensely informative, and am enjoying working my way through it. The academic terms are defined as you use them for the most part, and I'm learning alot. I think the only edit I'd suggest (partly becasue the whole article seems a little above me for me to be making significant content suggestions) is to restate the intended audience. This is an intermediate-to-advanced text that fills a niche between <em>Perl hackers that can already work with regular expressions, but don't have any formal Computer Science eduction</em> and the heavily technical papers that are intended for academia. Said Perl Hackers can use this to improve themselves, but I found it a little beyond (though certainly comlementary to) "practical". </p> <div class="pmsig"><div class="pmsig-632330"> <hr /> <font size='1'> #my sig used to say 'I humbly seek wisdom. '. Now it says:<br /> use strict;<br /> use warnings;<br /> I humbly seek wisdom. </font> </div></div> 678119 678119 | dclm-gs1-010980000 |
note proceng <blockquote>Are you aware that this still has a race condition? You run a lot of tests in step 1, most of those tests involve system calls. Step 2 has two system calls. Each and every system call may cause a task switch to a malicious program that -- with a little bit of luck and good timing -- can change what you checked for in step 1, causing the following steps to fail rather unexpectedly. And each and every system call may cause a task switch to a second instance fighting for the PID file.</blockquote> Alexander:<br> Yes, I am <em>quite</em> aware that there may be a race condition (but also that the condition <em>may be rare</em>). Since many of the steps, by their nature, <em>can not be atomic</em>, that is a chance that is taken. I would rather know <em>before</em> attempting to connect to a database (for example) that it <em>could be in an inconsistent state</em> due to an abnormal termination. While everything may work right, simply knowing <strong>about the problem</strong> can go a long way to preventing it from happening in the future.<p> Many of the options (like the daemontools that you note), do <em>the same things that I describe</em> (just masking them from the programmer).<br> While you are correct that <strike>many</strike>some daemons do not need certain functions, that <em>does not mean</em> that they do not have their place. Add to that the fact that packages such as daemontools have their own built in set of limitations: <blockquote>System requirements<br> daemontools works <strong>only</strong> under UNIX.</blockquote> and that they require <em>an extra installation step</em> to accomplish <em>the same goal</em>, and you can see that it is useful to know <strong>what is being done and why</strong>.<p> In my opinion, when you <em>have to adjust</em> to another's decisions (and add complexity at the same time), it is not necessarily a good thing. 841112 841182 | dclm-gs1-010990000 |
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Re: Is there a better way to learn Tk?
by Marshall (Prior)
on May 08, 2009 at 15:33 UTC ( #762853=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Is there a better way to learn Tk?
The CPAN documentation seems plentiful but incomplete. For example, if there are parameters for Tk::MainLoop or any special methods for Tk::MainWindow it can't be discerned from the documentation.
I have the Perl/Tk Pocket Reference by Stephan Lidie. I counted 27 methods that can be called on a mainwindow in that chapter. Appendix A of Learning Perl/Tk has a table of common widget methods. But that book is out of print. I don't know about the Pocket Reference. But is very handy and has a lot more than the Appendix A table. This isn't a tutorial, it is a "cut to the chase", here is a widget and here are the methods. There aren't any examples.
Sorry wrong button duplicate...see below...
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Re^3: Hash of Hashes from file
by scorpio17 (Monsignor)
on Apr 03, 2012 at 13:36 UTC ( #963247=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Re^2: Hash of Hashes from file
in thread Hash of Hashes from file
Well, the problem is that with a hash, you can only have one value for each key. If you need to associate multiple values per key, then the solution is to store the values in an array, and save the array reference in the hash. If you get to the point where you have more data than you can fit into memory at one time, then you need to look at using a database, like mysql. Instead of pushing the data from each line of the file into your hash, you would insert it into the database, then once all the data is loaded you can query the database.
Comment on Re^3: Hash of Hashes from file
Re^4: Hash of Hashes from file
by cipher (Acolyte) on Apr 03, 2012 at 14:31 UTC
Yes hashes have unique keys, Is it possible to generate a hash like this:
%hoh=( $user => { 'Website' => [website1,website2,website3], 'type' => [type +1,type2,type3]} );
As I said I am not familiar with hashes, just checking.
Yes, that should work. Then to add a new website/type, you could do this:
push( @{ $hoh{$user}{'Website'} }, 'website4'); push( @{ $hoh{$user}{'type'} }, 'type4'};
and to get all websites for a given user:
my @websites = @{ $hoh{$user}{'Website'} };
The syntax looks strange because you're storing an array ref, and have to dereference it.
Thanks a lot,
Can you also let me know how do I print all websites and types for each user ?
Yes, it should be possible but the syntax might get sticky. As scorpio17 says in this thread, what you want to do with the data is one the the deciding factors in how you want to store it. (Along with other factors). If the data is too large to load into memory, you may need to consider some of the suggestions offered by others here.
If the requirement is just to produce output like you provided, a Hash of Hashes may be a good choice.
#!/usr/bin/perl use strict; use warnings; my %data; while (<DATA>) { my ($user, $site, $cat) = /"([^"]+)"/g; $data{$user}{$site} = $cat; } for my $user (keys %data) { my $href = $data{$user}; print $user, "\n"; print "\tWebsite: $_, Category: $href->{$_}\n" for keys %$href; } __DATA__ user="john" website="" type="Entertainment" user="david" website="" type="Social Networking" user="john" website="" type="Social Networking" user="mike" website="" type="Search Engines"
Output was:
john Website:, Category: Entertainment Website:, Category: Social Networking mike Website:, Category: Search Engines david Website:, Category: Social Networking
Update: With a file this large, would it be likely for one user to visit the same website more than once?
Yes users visit same websites multiple times. For this reason I added Key as string "Website" and value as the actual website.
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Short answer: it depends.
How I approach any given programming problem depends upon the nature of the problem. The first questions I always ask are "what needs to be done" and "why does it need to be done". That second question is crucial. Quite often programmers gather all their specs without asking "why" and return with an program that fits the specs, but not the needs. Users often are not able to accurately state what they want. When you understand why they want it, you usually can provide them with assistance in understanding their needs.
After I've answered "what" and "why", I determine my available resources. Whether or not I'm forced to use a MS SQL database, have a dedicated file server, or am able to specify what tools my customers can use (usually in terms of browser) makes a huge difference in terms of what I can do. There's also schedule and budget, but I think that's beyond what you're asking.
After I've gotten my users to sign off on the work, I start to dig in. If it's something simple, I often find a program that does something similar and modify it. However, for moderate-to-difficult tasks, I start from scratch. Typically, I'll do a rough heirachical sketch of the program functions. For tough jobs, I do a modified Warnier-Orr diagram of the components along with diagrams showing how different pieces interact. Of course, I also look for CPAN modules (if I'm using Perl) that will handle the functionality I have drawn up. No way in heck are you going to find me writing my own CGI parser.
Then comes the programming, debugging, development of test plans, etc. If enough of the work is done properly up-front, the programming and follow-up is actually the easy part. Note that all through this phase, I want to go back to my customers (if possible) and say "is this what you want?" Too many times a programmer or company will go into seclusion for a month or two and come back with an unuseable product because they didn't bother to consult with their end-users (can anyone say <a href=">"Lotus Notes"? I knew you could).
However, I think the most important thing is to learn fundamental concepts of structured programming. The beauty of a properly structured program is that you can revisit it later, break it down easily, and swap out portions with better code without interfering with the over-all functionality (at least, that's how it should work).
The rest is just experience. Personally, I read the Perl Cookbook quite a bit. The code in there provides great examples of how to code and plan for eventualities.
In reply to (Ovid) RE: How DO those monks do it? by Ovid
in thread How DO those monks do it? by jptxs
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The goal is to reduce dependencies on templating systems. They are nice, but they don't do anything perl can't do alone. Moreover, Perl, Mason and TT all have easy solutions to Problem1, but that still does not address Problem2.
There needs to be a way to output the content of the 'body' variable without having the 'inherited' portions interpolated. I was hoping for insight on how to address this issue, or at least workarounds from others who have encountered this specific issue before, assuming there are others.
As far as I can discern, the only solution (be it TT, Mason, or whatever else) would be to convert the module code into some 'intermediate' format (XML, YAML, some other 'markup') and then 'scrape' the content out that way, thus avoiding interpolation of interspersed variables in the text
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Number One Retirement Question - Retirement And Money Smarts
Number One Retirement Question
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Posted: Friday, March 23, 2012 11:30 am | Updated: 12:50 pm, Wed Apr 4, 2012.
Do I have enough to retire? This question has caused more sleepless nights, headaches, and stress than almost any financial question we face during our lifetime.
Retirement is a process of swapping one source of income for another. Many retirement books, blogs and gurus start by asking the question: how much do you want/need to live on?
Let's assume that you want to live on $65,000 per year.
Taking their advice how would Mr. and Mrs. Smith know if they have enough money to retire. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Smith 65 have $1,000,000 in the bank earing a 4% return with a 3% inflation rate and they have a life expectancy is 85. Based on the typical on-line calculator or self-help book their money will most likely run out at age 80. This is 5 years short of what they need to retire.
Based on this process, Mr. and Mrs. Smith do not have enough money to retire. They are left feeling powerless to control their own future.
Let me share with you a different approach.
When you depended on your job for income, did you tell your boss how much you wanted to live on or did he tell you how much he would pay you. Once you knew your salary, you and your family adjusted your lifestyle to fit your income.
Why is retirement different? It isn't a question of do I have enough to retire. It is a question of how much will my savings, investments, social security and pension pay me for the rest of my life?
Let's look at the same question, in a new way. How much will the Smith's assets be able to pay them for the rest of their life?
Changing the question, the Smiths now know that they could retire on $52,000 per year. They may choose not to retire or try to squeeze some additional cashflow out of their retirement savings. But now they are in control of their retirement.
The next time you are making a decision about retirement, whether you are 60 and trying to decide if you can retire now or 50 trying to figure out how much longer you need to work, remember the question is not how long will my money last it is how much will my savings and investments pay me.
Welcome to the discussion. | dclm-gs1-011040000 |
L’illusion Du Tranquille.
Photographs by François Deladerrière.
Poursuite, Paris, 2011. 56 pp., 234 color illustrations, 6¼x8¼".
Publisher's Description
'We have crossed many states of mind when photographs unfold in front of our eyes, revealing, in the appearance of their subject, a familiar strangeness. These states push the familiar into the realm of the uncanny. Under the influence of the shift, the slide, the disorder of the senses, what is known and has been long familiar switches and blurs. Our perception flickers and a gap opens in the real world: The illusion of peace.' (…)
-Jacques Damez
Read Antone Dolezal's photo-eye Blog post on L'Illusion du Tranquille here.
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More like this: labor day crafts, hummingbirds and camping.
Protect Our People! What's in our food. Very scary!!....WOW - This IS scary, in so many ways!- RH
Mocking Bird Eggs by WhiteWolf35, via Flickr
Great guide to desert wild crafting and survival plants
Yucca brevifolia, aka, the Joshua Tree. Lives in the Mojave desert and can survive up to 1000 years.
Paula Deen's banana pudding -" I cannot stress enough that if you make this, you will never want to make another banana pudding recipe, ever... It's the BEST!"
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*The Graphics Fairy LLC*: Instant Art - Best Nest and Egg Print Ever!
camping projects, games, recipes, DIY, and tips | dclm-gs1-011060000 |
(1913 - 1955 / Australia)
Poems of Rex Ingamells
1. Boomerang 1/1/2004
2. Captain William Bligh 4/10/2010
3. Macquarie Harbour 1/1/2004
4. News of the Sun 4/10/2010
5. Shifting Camp 4/10/2010
6. Ship from the Thames 1/1/2004
7. The Camp Fires of the Past 1/1/2004
Ship from the Thames
Stay, ship from Thames with fettered sails
in Sydney Cove, this ebb of tide;
your gear untangled from the gales,
imprisoned at your anchor ride.
The portly gentleman who are
the pillars of the land come down
and greet the Newcomes voyaged far
to make a name in Sydney town.
[Hata Bildir] | dclm-gs1-011070000 |
You can submit any kind of set you want! This contest is going to be for 4 weeks and 3 entries! This is the first set of 2011! Come on let's do this. Let's get over 5O people so we can get trophies! Yay! Ready, set, GO! :)
Created by chicfashion. Created in Fashion&&Fun?. 41 sets from 16 members. Ended three years ago. | dclm-gs1-011080000 |
cover art
Moonbabies at the Ballroom
(Hidden Agenda; US: 29 May 2007; UK: Available as import)
It’s a mystery how, but all of a sudden one of the most uncool genres of music has suddenly become one of the coolest. That genre is bubblegum pop, more specifically, the type of mild, Phil Spector-ish ‘60s variety that was about as threatening as a sleeping miniature poodle. It wasn’t cool in the ‘60s, even less cool in the ‘70s, and after several decades of punk, funk, metal, grunge and hip-hop, it’s suddenly acceptable.
And while the Ramones may have referred to their style as being “sick bubblegum music”, taking leaves from the books of the Shangri-Las and the Ronettes, they mutated the style into such a hard and fast variation that it was near unrecognisable. Needless to say, such a transition made the Ramones cool.
But now bubblegum pop shares a level of indie cred alongside genres like baroque rock and If Mandy Moore attempted such saccharine music, she would be treated with revulsion and contempt. But somehow there are plenty of groups doing the same style, yet getting away with it.
So how do these bands pull it off? Well, it helps to be in a boy/girl duo. It helps to be non-threateningly good looking, and it helps to be Swedish. The Moonbabies are all three of these things. In fact, they are all three of these things to such an extent that they can blatantly steal the riff from the Crystals’ “Then He Kissed Me” without crediting the original writers. There’s a blurry line between referencing a song and copyright infringement, and the Moonbabies have probably crossed it. The rather cute and quiet track is named, oddly enough, “Shout It Out”. Shouting is something that the band doesn’t do for the entire album.
It isn’t the only ambiguous track name. The epic title “War on Sound” would better suit some sort of snarling prog-metal song, rather than the pedestrian Belle and Sebastian-esque pop that it is. The track featured in a scene in Grey’s Anatomy, something that the group’s website doesn’t neglect to mention. The kudos gained from the soundtrack appearance seems enough to justify putting it on the album, even though it was originally released back in 2005.
Moonbabies at the Ballroon is paced with all the caution and vulnerability of a debut record, which is very unusual, considering that the band has been together for a decade, and has already released two other albums and a handful of EPs. But for all its safe indie-pop and quietness, it does bear some glimmers of charm. The vocal interplay between Ola Frick and Carina Johanssen allows for enough variety to keep the album fresh, and the songs are well-constructed, if rather uninspiring. “Don’t Ya Know?” has enough quirky lead guitar and energetic drumming to make it a worthwhile listen. And despite its familiarity, “Cocobelle” has pleasant enough orchestration to carry it along.
But when it comes down to it, the album has all the trademarks of overprocessed bubblegum music. There aren’t enough rough edges on the album to give it any emotion at all, and each track is as forgettable as the one that preceded it. The album makes for a peaceful listen, but has no lasting qualities whatsoever.
Tagged as: the moonbabies
Moonbabies - War on Sound
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8 Aug 2005
Moonbabies' swirling, intoxicating brand of leftfield pop music is almost good enough to get you to throw out your old Cocteau Twins cassettes.
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Must I Say Goodbye?: Leaving Behind jRPGs
[10 April 2012]
By Mattie Brice
In a sense, jRPGs represent a lot of what’s wrong with video games. Namely, things being there just because. Many of these titles advertise 60+ hours of gameplay, but a lot of that time is spent grinding levels and includes other filler tactics. The numerous cutscenes would be worth it if they were something other than the usual young genki girl flirting with the dismissive and brooding protagonist. Again. jRPGs are actually embarrassing to play now, as evidenced by the many sheepish smiles and explanations that I had to give my friends when they walked in on me playing Tales of Graces f.
Short of destroying genre lines entirely, I think that these games could revitalize a once high demand sector of video games. The later installments of the Shin Megami Tensei: Persona series—and Altus games overall—have garnered wide attention. Persona 3 and 4 captured my own attention in a way that I’d consider indentured servitude if it meant that Persona 5 would soon be within my grasp. Those games obviously pander to the same crowd by choosing a setting common to a lot of anime (a Japanese high school) but also explore themes and mechanics that we don’t commonly see in jRPGs. All of the main characters are nuanced characters and resist the stereotypical roles that other games would have shoved them into, and the games themselves have a macabre overtone. The Persona series might stick to the usual aesthetics of the jRPG, but the themes have matured with the crowd following the series instead of transporting them to the past. While saving the world is a part of it, Persona 3’s main allure is exploring the strength of interpersonal ties and what it means to live. In its sequel, you’re solving a murder mystery and entertaining LGBT issues with some of your party members. These aren’t topics that you’d find in your favorite SNES RPGs and their predecessors. This doesn’t devalue jRPG classics, but rather implies their time has come and gone.
Ultimately, the context surrounding Final Fantasy XIII-2 describes what feels like the drawn out death of a genre. Artistic risks are treated with extreme disdain and the most blatant fan service is encouraged. Games are just another arrangement of the same mechanics alongside a thin story that barely justifies their presence, and aren’t we past that? Given the hyperactive cycle of the game industry, fans eventually are going to get bored of playing the same ol’ thing, especially when other genres are adapting jRPG elements to fit into their own arsenals. That might describe how I’m feeling about jRPGs now, bored and slightly disgusted. Developers will find themselves scrambling (if they aren’t already) when fans abandon their monopoly on a tradition.
I think that jRPGs can be saved by risky behavior, as I see Persona 3 and 4 as large, smart risks. Dating sim and dungeon crawler? Nothing like what we’ve seen before and each iteration of the series opens up new possibilities for the interaction of these qualities. We hear about how the inclusion of minorities would alienate the player base, but the opposite actually happened with Kanji and Naoto in Persona 4. Instead, there was discussion about figuring out one’s sexuality and how the culture that a person lives in changes their relationship to gender. jRPGs have the maneuverability to pull off some out-there content, which Atlus consistently proves. While other RPGs struggle with immersing the player in a photorealistic fantasy world, jRPGs are inherently equipped to produce highly stylized, pleasantly bizarre head-trips. Unfortunately, looking at the jRPGs that have cropped up over the past few years, I see little evidence of breaking old habits. So I guess it’s goodbye for now.
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The Isley Brothers: Harvest for the World / The Heat is On
[20 August 2001]
By Mark Anthony Neal
Eternal, the most recent release by the famed Isley Brothers, is easily one of their strongest since their classic “3+3” era. Almost four decades before “Mr. Biggs” got “Contagious”, The Isley Brothers were largely a vocal trio led by the silky Ronald Isley, with brothers Rudolph and O’Kelly providing backing harmonies on tracks like “Shout”, “This Old Heart of Mine” and their 1969 pop breakthrough “It’s Your Thing”. Responding to changing musical styles including the evolution of funk, the trio began to incorporate the musical sensibilities of younger brothers Marvin and Ernie and Rudolph’s brother-in-law Chris Jasper into the Isley Brother mix. Though they were paid employers of the Isleys since 1969, 3+3 would be the first recording that significantly included the artistic input of Isley, Jasper, and Isley, as they were named when the trio broke from the older members in the mid-1980s. With the breakout success of the single “That Lady”, the younger trio was handed the reigns of the Isley musical legacy, in the process ushering in an era of sustained critical and commercial acclaim. The Heat is On (1975) and Harvest for the World (1976), both just reissued on the Sony/Legacy imprint, were the initial fruits of the full-fledged “3+3” era.
Though the Isley’s were steeped in the kind of “do for self” philosophy that ground much of the black nationalist rhetoric of the late ‘60s and ‘70s—having recorded for the family owned T-Neck (New Jersey) label—they were not overtly political performers. Though a modicum of resistance can be read in their pop hit “It’s You Thing”, “Fight the Power”, the lead single from The Heat is On, was their most overtly political tune to date. Nearly 15 years after the song’s release Public Enemy would record a song using the same title. Whereas Chuck D was focused to the larger political realities of black life, the Isley Brothers’ original was fixated on the everyday annoyances that can turn to rage and anger. It is hard not to feel such anger in the song’s chorus as O’Kelly sings “I try to play my music / They say my music is too loud / I tried talkin’ about it, I got the big run around / And when I roll with the punches / I got knocked to the ground / By all this bullshit goin’ down”. Conceived by brother Ernie, “Fight the Power” reflected the wide influences on the younger Isley siblings. Ernie for one was heavily impacted by the late Jimi Hendrix, who was a backing musician for the original Isleys in the early ‘60s. A track like “Hope You Feel Better Love”, for instance, owes some debt to The Doobie Brothers’ “Long Train Runnin’” which was included on their Captain and Me (1973) recording.
Whereas the up-tempo workouts helped the Isley’s reach new audiences, it was their balladry, courtesy of lead vocalist Ronald, that distinguished them among other foul/R&B/funk bands of the era. “For the Love of You” is one of the most recognizable Isley ballads and can still be heard in daily rotation on urban and lite-jazz stations. The seven-plus minute “Make Me Say It Again”, which closes out The Heat is On, is as gorgeous as any classic soul ballad and is a thrilling testament to Ronnie Isley’s interpretive skills.
From the vantage point of 25 years, many of the funk tracks on Harvest for the World seem dated. The title track is a bouncy vibrant ditty that seems tailor made for Top-40 radio in the mid-1970s. The song which celebrates global unity—not so ironically released in the year that the US celebrated its Bicentennial, celebrating among other things 200 year of American imperialism—anticipates the track “Caravan of Love”, which became a major pop hit for Isley, Jasper, Isley in 1985. The strength of the recording again lies in its ballads. While tracks like the aforementioned “For the Love of You” and raunchy “Between the Sheets” (1983) were well known to hip-hop generation listeners, “(At Your Best) You Are Love” remained an obscure Isley classic until Aaliyah, with production by R. Kelly, recorded the track on her debut Age Ain’t Nothin’ But a Number. “Let Me Down Easy”, is drawn from the same formula that produced “Make Me Say it Again, Girl” where Ronald’s lilting falsetto gently surrounded by Chris Jasper’s keyboards and Ernie Isley’s softly sweeping guitar rhythms.
Both of the reissues feature previously unreleased “bonus” tracks, recorded live (with a canned audience) in 1980, including a recording of the Isley’s reading of Seal and Crofts’ “Summer Breeze”. With the release of Eternal, the reissues of The Heat is On and Harvest for the World serve as ideal introductions to the classic Isley sound decades before “Mr. Biggs” comes on the scene.
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Please select Special, Category and Model. You will then be directed to the relevant chapter. | dclm-gs1-011120000 |
Can't help you out with the OPK but looks like you have plenty of advice on that from others.
I know what it's like when cycles go all crazy on you, I normally have a 29 day cycle, these past months have included a 55 and 39 day cycle. For me AF did eventually show, but I am being sent to a gynecologist to figure things out. | dclm-gs1-011130000 |
Backing up the diplomatic dance on Syria: Editorial
U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry speaks during a joint news conference with British Foreign Secretary William Hague and French Foreign Minister Laurent Fabius, unseen, following their meeting at the Quai d'Orsay in Paris, Monday, Sept. 16, 2013. The U.S. and its closest allies laid out a two-pronged approach in Syria on Monday, calling for enforceable U.N. benchmarks for eradicating the country's chemical weapons program and an international conference bolstering the moderate opposition. (AP Photo/Francois Mori)
Diplomacy is an excellent alternative to war, even when its byzantine twists, rhetorical and otherwise, remain mostly mysterious to those not born to wear a pin-striped suit and a Brahmin’s poker face.
It’s so mysterious, in fact, that even the Scandinavian sages who annually award the Nobel Peace Prize for “the best work for fraternity between nations” bestowed it upon Henry Kissinger amidst the Vietnam War and Barack Obama when he had been president for just a few months and had engaged in very little foreign policy.
These peacemakers, they move in such understated ways. Perhaps nothing should surprise us. Still, it came as a shock that what had looked to be an impending shooting war involving the United States and Syria over the issue of chemical weapons has apparently been replaced by a diplomatic initiative spearheaded by our nation’s frequent global adversary, Russia, and our own diplomats.
Last week at this time, just as President Obama was trying and failing to raise national support for an air strike, the proposal to get the Syrian regime of Bashar Assad to voluntarily relinquish its chemical weapons was first made by the Russians.
This week, after shuttle diplomacy by Secretary of State John Kerry and his Russian counterparts, with a lot of advice from American allies from Britain to France to Israel thrown in, there is an actual agreement to deal with the Syrian chemical stockpile through negotiation, inspection, removal and supervised destruction rather than through Tomahawk missiles or drone strikes.
So, two cheers for diplomacy. If the swift punishment for a genocidal crime against both a people and international law isn’t being delivered, to the extent that what we’re seeing in the Middle East is the usual proxy war with the threat of involving superpowers, we should all be relieved.
Talk therapy has, for the moment, won the day.
Even a tough guy like a former Israeli chief of military intelligence goes so far as to call it “a win-win-win-win for Russia, the United States, Syria and Israel.” That, Amos Yadlin, is a lot of wins.
The editorial board said last week that it’s time to try to make diplomacy work, and it may be that it has.
But it’s hardly being unduly skeptical to note that this is the very same Russia that, when originally presented with the physical evidence that chemical weapons had been used in Syria, declined against all logic to believe in that evidence.
And suddenly it now not only believes the banned agents that killed some 1,400 Syrians exist — it wants to help oversee their removal and destruction?
That’s quite a philosophical turnaround. It’s also quite possibly a simple attempt to buy time for Russia’s ally in Damascus. Because the Russians still insist that perhaps it was the rebels who used the gas to kill their own sympathizers.
Now that the diplomatic dance is underway, and the fine points about who will decide if and when all the chemicals and the ability to produce more are being worked out, it can’t be ignored that the threat of airstrikes may have been key in making them unnecessary.
That threat can’t be taken off the table if we want diplomacy to work. And if chemicals were to be used again, the consequences should be wholly clear.
Join the Conversation | dclm-gs1-011140000 |
Science, Tech & Environment
Geo answer
For today's Geo Quiz, we were searching for the location of the southern Africa headquarters of the Cheetah Conservation Fund. The answer is Otjiwarongo, Namibia. Chris Bartos of the Philadelphia Zoo just traveled there with her border collie Finn to help conservationists track endangered cheetahs.
Player utilities | dclm-gs1-011150000 |
The race for the final West playoff spots
Written by Quixem Ramirez on .
6. Golden State Warriors (42-32)
With fewer than 10 games remaining, barring a minor collapse, the Warriors will likely remain in the sixth slot or, in a worst case scenario, in the seventh seed if the Rockets continue their blistering pace. Meaning a matchup with the Spurs is unlikely. This isn't bad news nor is it good news; Golden State is a volatile team -- in their last 20 games, they have drubbed their opponents, allowing 99.3 points per 100 possessions according to, which would be fourth over the course of the season -- and can disrupt even elite teams when Stephen Curry and Klay Thompson have space on the perimeter. But they are heavily flawed -- namely defensively, though they do allow the fewest attempts at the rim -- and until they dial down their mid-range attempts and distribute their shots more efficiently, they shouldn't be considered a legitimate playoff threat. (Note: Swapping super sub Jarrett Jack for Harrison Barnes may do the trick however; in a limited sample size, the Warriors starting lineup plus Jack has been incredibly effective, outscoring opponents by 12.3 points per 100 possessions.) But they will still be plenty fun.
7. Houston Rockets (40-33)
8. Utah Jazz (38-36)
9. Los Angeles Lakers (38-36)
Having won 13 of their last 20 games, the Lakers appear to be gelling at the right time. Although their recent play is encouraging, the Lakers have only been marginally better since the All-Star break. To compensate for a failing defense, which has regressed even more since February, the Lakers have upped their offensive pace. What resulted is an offense that is producing 107.3 points per 100 possessions, a mark that would be behind only Miami, Oklahoma City, New York and Denver. Defensive ineptitude aside -- Mike D'Antoni hasn't been able to commandeer his roster, which does include some halfway decent defenders, into playing active defense -- the Lakers have discovered a few positive silver linings; small-ball lineups including Earl Clark at power forward have been effective and, as long as Kobe Bryant doesn't jack up too many shots, the Lakers will Kevin Jairaj-USA TODAY Sportshave little trouble scoring points in bunches. Integrating Pau Gasol is still a bit awkward, since Steve Nash, Dwight Howard and Bryant have already developed a healthy repertoire. Los Angeles should not be feared or overlooked at this point.
10. Dallas Mavericks (36-37)
Utah or the Lakers seem the weakest teams. But on the other hand, none of these teams have the strength of OKC or the Heat. So does it really matter?
@be_Spurs None of these teams should beat the Spurs in the first-round. That's obvious. But drawing the ideal opponent could shave off some unnecessary playoff games before OKC/DEN/LAC/MEM.
You Might Like... | dclm-gs1-011160000 |
Revision [25605]
This is an old revision of Hiawatha made by darkcity on 2013-01-30 06:32:31.
HomePage > Software Index > Network
Hiawatha is a web-server that can be used locally or on the web.
these numbers vary depending on how they are connected to the router
Run Hiawatha by typing hiawatha at the conole
To stop the server, type in killall hiawatha
hiawatha -k = config file check
The file
should have something like so:
ServerId = webuser
ConnectionsTotal = 150
ConnectionsPerIP = 10
SystemLogfile = /var/log/hiawatha/system.log
GarbageLogfile = /var/log/hiawatha/garbage.log
Binding {
Port = 80
Interface =
Hostname =
WebsiteRoot = /root/Web-Server
StartFile = index.html
AccessLogfile = /var/log/hiawatha/access.log
ErrorLogfile = /var/log/hiawatha/error.log
MimetypeConfig = /etc/mime.types
CGIhandler = /usr/bin/perl:pl
CGIextension = pl,bin
ExecuteCGI = yes
SecureURL = no
Interface =
Note these settings:
Hostname = (this is your IP address)
WebsiteRoot = /root/Web-Server
StartFile = index.html (create this and put in some content)
How to configure Hiawatha web server?
Ensure necessary permissions for /dev/null:
chmod a+w /dev/null
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Nginx web server
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pplog small blog that uses Hiawatha
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FOOD- THE DISH- Carpe Donut: Rolling wagon seizes the day
Matt Rohdie, along with his wife, Jen Downey, and their children Finn, Lil, and Georgia, launched their mobile donut truck business, Carpe Donut, last August.
On a cold, rainy day last week we saw a festive-looking red trailer parked in front of the Lucky Seven on Market Street. As we got closer, we could smell something familiarly warm and sweet, but not sugary sweet; it was more subtle, like an apple pie baking at a neighbor's house. But there was still the suggestion of a savory reward. Our mouths began to water. Childhood memories began to surface. We felt dizzy, even momentarily happy. What the hell was happening?
"I wanted to make and offer to the public one extremely well-made food," explains Matt Rohdie, who owns the small trailer he calls Gypsy.
And that well made food turns out to be a hot fresh donut.
"The culinary equivalent of crack cocaine," adds Rohdie, who, along with his wife, Jen Downey, and their children Finn, Lil, and Georgia, launched their mobile donut truck business, Carpe Donut, last August.
Now before you haul your kids in off the street and call the cops, know that this is not your parents' donut. We're all into saving the planet and eating organic now, and Rohdie's round wonders are doing their part. Concocted from locally squeezed apple cider, organic flower, eggs, and spices in soy oil that's converted into biofuel after the frying is done, Carpe Donuts are as environmentally friendly as they are tasty.
What's more, for Rohdie and his wife, it's a strategy for enriching the family life.
"Our kids are home-schooled, and we wanted to find a way to make a living while spending time together doing interesting things with our kids," he says, pointing out that going mobile allows them to travel. They've played the Albemarle County and Augusta County fairs, three shows at the Pavilion and First Night Virginia, and are applying for a spot at the FloydFest music festival.
"A friend of mine calls us 'Little House on the Trailer,'" he laughs.
Rohdie says they recently acquired a mobile operator's license. That means that as long as they park legally, or get permission from a property owner, they can park Gypsy just about anywhere. The Lucky Seven-condoned gig was a "trial balloon," but he says they are exploring other locations on the Downtown Mall as well as in the Barracks Road Shopping Center. They also have a website ( where people will eventually be able to find out where they are at any given time.
"The essence of our business model is to be mobile, to go where donut lovers are," says Rohdie, who was a social worker for years before getting into the catering business. "We always cook and serve on site."
Unlike store-bought or chain store donuts (and no, we haven't forgotten about Spudnuts, a fabulous local donut option, but let's give Carpe Donut a chance to shine), Carpe Donuts have a shelf-life of about a day, Rohdie says.
"But that melds with the idea of bringing donuts to the people," he says. "Ideally, there's a five-minute window we like to hit, from the time they're cooked until the time they're eaten."
While Rohdie appears to have quite a bit of business savvy, he seems to have no illusions about the food service business.
"I've always been a foodie, and I've watched a lot of people go broke in the restaurant business," he says. "That's why I wanted to create one food that people would immediately respond to. And you can't underestimate the value of the hot, freshly made donut... not too many other foods are as magical."
Great Scott! What that popping sound?
In a roundabout way, we can thank Hurricane Katrina for bringing Great Scott's Gourmet Popcorn to Ivy Road, right behind Cary's Camera. Owner Scott Hutchinson, 30, and his wife (she grew up in Charlottesville) were living in Louisiana when the terrible hurricane hit, which sent them packing for Dallas/Fort Worth, Texas. There, Hutchinson stumbled on a place called Julie's Gourmet Popcorn. Intrigued, he convinced the owner to teach him her secrets.
"It seemed like a fun thing I could do on my own," says Hutchinson, who was a restaurant manger for years. "When we moved to Charlottesville, I decided to go for it."
The small popcornery opened on February 2.
Hutchinson says he offers a variety of popcorn, including carmel corn, cornfetti (with rainbow colors), and Texas Tornado, his most popular, flavored with ranch, jalapeño, and cheddar.
He also offers big tins and gift boxes, as well as 10 gallons of the stuff for $25.
"We're real flexible with how people want to package it," Hutchinson says.
So far, it appears that business hasn't exactly been hoppin' since he started poppin.' But he hopes that will change once he starts advertising and word-of-mouth kicks in.
"We've had a slow start, but there's been a really good reception," he says. | dclm-gs1-011180000 |
Virendra Kapoor
Everything is unwell with the BJP.
It is no longer the cohesive, disciplined organisation it was a couple of years ago. The BJP leadership is either unable or unwilling to set its house in order. There are divisions galore in 'the party with a difference.'
In the electorally crucial state of Uttar Pradesh, the BJP is divided from top to bottom on backward versus upper castes lines. Chief Minister Kalyan Singh. who belongs to an other backward caste, refuses to bend before thakurs and brahmins. It seems that the two senior-most leaders of the party, namely, Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Lal Kishenchand Advani, have given up on bringing order to the UP unit.
Similar is the case with the BJP in the national capital. The dominant group led by Mange Ram Garg enjoys little support. The three former chief ministers -- Madan Lal Khurana, Sahib Singh Verma and Sushma Swaraj -- are sulking in their respective tents. Khurana would like to be anointed the unquestioned boss of Delhi BJP, a claim not acceptable to either Verma or Swaraj.
Verma complains of his marginalisation and would like to be given a free hand in managing the affairs of his personal fiefdom, the rural Delhi constituency including the Outer Delhi parliamentary seat.
As for Sushma, she joined the BJP only because she could get nowhere as a member of the erstwhile Socialist Party. Having manipulated Haryana Chief Minister Bansi Lal for a Rajya Sabha seat for her husband Swaraj Kaushal, Sushma is not keen to contest the forthcoming Lok Sabha election. She still retains the ministerial bungalow she was allotted during her tenure in the Vajpayee government and would like to stay put there for five more years now that her husband is a first-time MP.
She is so miffed at Vajpayee's refusal to make her a minister following her disastrous stint as the Delhi chief minister that she refused to act as the BJP's official spokesperson. Advani personally offered her the high-profile assignment a few days ago. Without offering a coherent reason, she declined. She and her husband spend their time spreading canards against Vajpayee and his family.
The Seshan bug
Chief Election Commissioner Manohar Singh Gill has been bitten by the T N Seshan bug. Once a victim of Seshan's crude behaviour when he was a member of the Commission while Seshan was its chief, Dr Gill has now started aping the former CEC's supercilious ways while displaying none of his toughness.
The case in point is Dr Gill's obsession with ephemeral status. He was mighty peeved at the downgrading of his security following a comprehensive review accorded to over 200 people. From 'Z' category, his security detail was lowered to 'Y'. Although the threat perception reviewed periodically by the intelligence agencies did not warrant even `Y' category to the CEC, the latter made his displeasure known in no uncertain terms. And the government gave in.
Made to cut short his all-paid jaunt to the US following the dissolution of the Lok Sabha, Dr Gill threw a fit on reaching home. He shouted at senior home ministry officials: "I cannot go to Rashtrapati Bhavan because I do not have adequate security." To keep him in good humour, the government promptly despatched a jeep-load of commandos.
Curiously, Dr Gill had sought to turn an official one-week visit to the US into an extended three-week jaunt. When law ministry officials questioned the need for him to stop over in London for one full week en route to the US, the CEC threw a fit. Dr Gill's Seshanesque behaviour again forced the government to take the path of least resistance. He left Delhi's sizzling summer for cooler climes only to be summoned back.
Meanwhile, cold vibes continue between Dr Gill and his number two G V G Krishnamurthy. Both are publicity hogs, but Dr Gill has barred his deputy from addressing the media. The only man who has no problem in getting along with both Dr Gill and GVG is the third Election Commissioner J M Lyngdoh who shuns all public attention and would like to be left well alone.
Jokers all
The all-party meeting called by the Election Commission to discuss the timing of the Lok Sabha poll on May 3 witnessed some interesting moments. Like, for instance, Dr Gill's walking the entire length of the conference room, where representatives of 40-odd parties were waiting, to go straight to Congress leader Sharad Pawar and shake his hand.
Or the ever-jocular Laloo Prasad Yadav pressing for an October poll "even if that means that Atalji would address the nation from the Red Fort on August 15."
Or the representative of J Jayalalitha, former minister K R Janardhanam bringing the entire house down by telling the CEC to hold the poll "only next February". Obviously, he was oblivious of the constitutional provision that lays down that the new House must meet before the end of October.
Illicit connections
The joint commissioner of Delhi Police Y S Dadwal, who was at the ill-famed party of socialite Bina Ramani, did not allegedly inform his boss, Police Commissioner V N Singh, for four days of his presence at the scene of crime.
Dadwal networks with Ramani and others of her ilk in search of contacts for his wife, a garment exporter. His wife runs her unit in a South Delhi village, on land owned by a suspect in a wife-burning case.
Poll humour
The joke doing the rounds in the BJP circles is that the Vajpayee government was defeated by 'Italy and Idly', a reference to Sonia Gandhi and Jayalalitha. And in the Samajwadi Party, they are being nasty about Sonia's secularism:
"Yes, she is secular because she eats both beef and pork. And her party had pulled down both the Babri Masjid and the Golden Temple."
More such nastiness will be on display as election fever grips parties.
Capital Buzz | dclm-gs1-011190000 |
Last updated on March 13, 2014 at 15:26 EDT
Astronomers Find Cosmic Lenses With Feeding Black Holes
March 16, 2012
In space, it sometimes happens that two galaxies are aligned in just the right way that the closer galaxy distorts and magnifies the appearance of the one behind it. For astronomers, finding these alignments is like coming across giant, cosmic magnifying glasses.
Now, a team of astronomers, including Daniel Stern from NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif., has found several rare examples of this phenomenon, called gravitational lensing, in which the foreground galaxy hosts an actively accreting supermassive black hole.
Such feeding black holes, called quasars, are among the brightest objects in the universe, far outshining the total starlight of their host galaxies. Because they are so bright, it is hard for astronomers to measure the mass of their host galaxies. However, gravitational lenses are invaluable for estimating the mass of a quasar’s host galaxy. The amount of the background galaxy’s distortion can be used to accurately measure the lensing galaxy’s mass.
The team hopes to build an even bigger catalog of these quasar lenses, and to use these data to better understand the interplay between black hole feeding and star formation in galaxy evolution.
Image Caption: The Hubble Space Telescope’s sharp view was used to look for gravitational arcs and rings (indicated by arrows), which are produced when one galaxy acts as a lens to magnify and distort the appearance of another galaxy behind it. In this case, the foreground galaxies contain actively accreting black holes called quasars. Image credit: NASA, ESA, EPFL (Switzerland)
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“Always helpful”
Written on: 28/02/2013 by Alibi1 (1 review written)
I am always confident ringing LCN for help, real people answer the phone quickly and always are polite, knowledgeable and able to resolve my problem. | dclm-gs1-011220000 |
The brothers Raffaele and Giuseppe Salmaso arrive to Venice in the 1951 from Saonara, in province of Padova, their city born. They manage a small eatery - named “bacaro” in Italian language, from the name “Ancient Verona wine cellars” – in a charming position on the “Fondamenta delle Ostreghe”
Once their respective ones wives, Tosca and Savina, reached Venice, the Salmaso family rename the premise calling it “Ristorante da Raffaele”, and from that very moment until now it is a point of reference in the city and to the overseas customers. In the years many have been the hosts of the restaurant, including artists, writers, actors and world-famous singers. The familiar tradition to the service of the tourism is today composed by the mothers Tosca and Savina and their sons, Renato, Giovanna, Stefania and Andrea, which personally manage which personally manage the fine Hotel Ala in the centre of the city and the romantic Hotel "Pensione Accademia".
The Raffaele’s Restaurant proposes typical traditional veneta and Italian plates with particular predilection to the chef’s Venetian kitchen speciality. The two banquet hall and the splendid balcony along the "Fondamenta delle Ostreghe" accommodates until 230 persons. Eating on the balcony, along the bank of the canal, the charming Venetian atmosphere is savoured, listening to the serenade ones on the gondolas. A particular characteristic is inside the restaurant, the “Crews hall”, name coming from the rare exposure of an incredible collection of ancient crews and ancient tools. The cold winter days are warmed by the beautiful fireplace, the “at sight” brick wall and the warming welcome of Salmaso family.
Ristorante Da Raffaele - San Marco 2347 - Venice
Ph +39 041 5232317 - Fax +39 041 2416546 | dclm-gs1-011230000 |
In Memoriam 1942 – 2013 “Roger Ebert loved movies.”
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One of the things that makes police work in Los Angeles tricky, Vincent Bugliosi says, is that anyone is likely to know anyone else. In other cities, social connections are more predictable. A cop who knows who you are, where you live and how you work has a pretty good idea who you are likely to know.
But drugs, sex and show biz act like L.A. wormholes, connecting the famous with the obscure. John Holmes, for example, was a porn star who became addicted to cocaine, and told his dopehead friends that Eddie Nash, a nightclub owner, kept a lot of money in his house. The dopeheads broke into Nash's house and took money and jewelry. Not long after, Holmes unwisely arrived at Nash's house and was beaten until he told Nash about the dopeheads. Holmes then allegedly helped Nash's bodyguards enter the house at 8763 Wonderland Ave., in the Hollywood Hills, where the dopeheads lived. Four of them were murdered, leaving the most horrifying crime scene one of the arriving cops had ever witnessed. The police eventually linked Holmes to the murders through the testimony of Scott Thorson, Liberace's lover, who saw Holmes being beaten.
And just to complete the circle, I got this information from, no relation to the cult leader. I was looking it up because at the end of "Wonderland" I had no clear idea of what had happened, except that Holmes was apparently the connection. Perhaps because Eddie Nash is still alive and was acquitted on the murder charges after two trials, the movie never comes right out and says that he sent his men to commit the murders. The interior logic of the movie says he must have, but that's not actionable. To obscure a possible libel, or for artistic reasons, or both, the movie tells the story in the style of "Rashomon," moving back and forth through time and using contradictory stories so that we think first one version and then another is the truth.
"Rashomon" was told with great clarity; we were always sure whose version we were seeing, and why. "Wonderland" is told through a bewildering tap-dance on the timeline, with lots of subtitles that say things like "Four months earlier" or "July 1, 1981." There are so many of these titles, and the movie's chronology is so shuffled, that they become more frustrating than helpful. The titles of course reflect the version of the facts they introduce, so that a given event might or might not have happened "Three weeks later." Actors separated from chronology have their work cut out for them. A performance can't build if it starts at the end and circles in both directions toward the beginning. Yet Val Kilmer is convincing as John Holmes, especially when he pinballs from one emotion to another; we see him charming, ugly, self-pitying, paranoid, and above all in need of a fix. Holmes, acting under the name "Johnny Wadd," made a thousand hard-core pornos (according to this movie) or more than 2,500 (according to the Web site). But by the time of the action, drugs have replaced sex as his obsession and occupation, and Kilmer does a good job of showing how an addict is always really thinking about only one thing.
Holmes is essentially just a case study: not interesting, not significant, not evocative. Nash (Eric Bogosian) is even less dimensional, existing completely in terms of his function in the plot. The human interest in the movie centers entirely on two women: Dawn Schiller (Kate Bosworth), Holmes' teenybopper girlfriend, and Sharon Holmes (Lisa Kudrow), his wife.
Why either of these women wants to have anything to do with Holmes is a mystery, although Dawn perhaps somewhere in her confused reverie, thinks of him as a star, and Sharon still cares for him, despite having moved on to a settled, respectable lifestyle. Maybe she remembers a boy she was trying to save.
The movie is tantalizing in the way it denies us more information about the Dawn-Sharon-Holmes triangle. The two women are on good terms with each other (and are friends to this day, I learn), sexual jealousy seems beside the point when your man is the busiest porn star in history, and at one point Holmes actually informs incredulous cops that he wants to go into the witness projection program with both women. Kudrow's performance is the most intriguing in the movie, and when she goes face to face with Holmes and coldly rejects his appeals for help, we guess maybe he needs her because she's the only adult in his life.
Parts of this story, much altered, have been told already in Paul Thomas Anderson's incomparably better film "Boogie Nights" (1997). Dirk Diggler (Mark Wahlberg) was the Holmes character there, and Heather Graham's Roller Girl is I guess something like Dawn.
True crime procedurals can have a certain fascination, but not when they're jumbled glimpses of what might or might not have happened involving a lot of empty people whose main claim to fame is that they're dead.
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• Fri
• Mar 14, 2014
• Updated: 3:52am
Renewed commitment needed on East Timor
PUBLISHED : Monday, 09 April, 2007, 12:00am
UPDATED : Monday, 09 April, 2007, 12:00am
Presidential elections in East Timor today should go a way to bridging simmering ethnic and political divisions but are not in themselves a solution to the country's numerous challenges. These can be overcome only through the sustained help of the international community.
Such was the pledge in 1999 when the world rushed to the aid of East Timorese as they fought for independence from Indonesia. The United Nations was instrumental in that goal being achieved three years later and international donor meetings and non-governmental groups have helped build infrastructure.
A deal with Australia has been struck on the most viable source of income - oil and gas - and a petroleum fund is accruing the financial resources that will be the lifeblood of development in coming decades. How today's elections, the second since independence, are conducted will indicate the state of democracy.
But a steady income stream and democracy are not the only cornerstones of nationhood - and as Asia's poorest and youngest country, East Timor faces considerable hurdles. Corruption is rife, 60 per cent of East Timorese are illiterate, about half live on less than US$1 a day, and 10 per cent of children do not see their fifth birthday. The average life expectancy is just 57 years, while an ethnic and political rift runs through the island and has led to dozens of deaths and the displacement of tens of thousands of people.
Despite such poor fundamentals, the world's gaze has largely been diverted elsewhere since independence almost five years ago. The conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, the Indian Ocean tsunami, nuclear proliferation in North Korea and Iran and the threats of global warming, a bird flu pandemic and terrorism have dominated the headlines. Given that East Timor has less than 1 million people and is of no strategic importance to the world's power brokers, it is perhaps understandable that attention has turned elsewhere.
Yet when the nation was the centre of foreign focus, there was the chance that it could one day be held up as a shining example of what could be achieved with united international effort. That opportunity still exists. East Timor is small enough that it will not divert too many resources earmarked for other causes. What is needed, though, is international will.
East Timorese were given hope, but that is fading. For their sake and the aspirations of poverty-ridden people the world over, the international community must re-engage with fresh vigour.
SCMP.com Account | dclm-gs1-011250000 |
mark cuban
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Cutting-Edge Camcorders
Family gatherings are always a convenient excuse to pull out the camcorder and start shooting. If you thought your choice of weaponry was confined to the 10-year-old MiniDV tape format, guess again. You'd be ignoring two of the hottest trends of the last few years: hard-disk recording and high-definition TV. It's not your fault. After all, while TiVo and the iPod garnered all the attention, it was their embedded - and unseen - hard drives that did all the work. Similarly, HDTV quality is something you might watch, but probably not something you thought you could create.
What We Think
Everio GZ-MG30 Sony HDR-HC1
This camcorder gets thumbs up for its compact size, high-quality video, and tapeless day-long capacity. A compact, full-feature camcorder that shoots gorgeous high-def footage and costs less than a new car.
Both technologies, hard drives and high-definition, are available now in camcorders, though there isn't yet a consumer model that records high-def to a hard drive. Maybe next year. Meanwhile, JVC and Sony are pushing the envelope. JVC's Everio GZ-MG30 ($900) contains a tiny (1.8 inch) but massive (30-gigabyte) hard drive that makes tape obsolete. Sony's HDR-HC1 ($2,000) is the least-expensive high-definition camcorder we've seen to date, yet the picture quality is so dazzling that professionals using much more expensive equipment are eying it up. Weight-wise, the two cams are about a pound apart, but compared with the current generation of camcorders, each is in a class by itself.
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446 Results Found for Ray Lancaster! Select a State Below
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Lancaster is a surname. People with the surname include: * Alan Lancaster, bass guitar player * Bill Lancaster (aviator), British aviator * Bill Lancaster (1947-1997), American screenwriter * Brett Lancaster, professional cyclist * Burt Lancaster (1913-1994), American actor * Charles D. Lancaster, Jr. * Don Lancaster * Elsa Lanchester * Geoffrey Lancaster * James Lancaster * John L. Lancaster * Joseph Lancaster (1778–1838), English Quaker and public education innovator * Kelvin Lancaster * Kerry Lancaster * Les Lancaster * Mark Lancaster * Marshall Lancaster, actor * Martin Lancaster * Nancy Lancaster * Osbert Lancaster * Penny Lancaster * Robert S. Lancaster, American skeptic * Ron Lancaster, football player, coach and general manager in the CFL * Roy Lancaster, UK TV gardener, author and plant hunter * Sarah Lancaster * Spear Lancaster * William Lancaster, pseudonym for John Byrne Leicester Warren, 3rd Baron De Tabley, poet and author * William Lancaster (cricketer) * William de Lancaster I
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Rick Farrell
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Farrell is a surname, from the Irish Farrell clan (Uí Fhearghail) meaning "descendant of Fearghal", and may refer to: In music and ballet: * Bernadette Farrell, English composer and hymnwriter * Ciaran Farrell, Irish composer. * Bobby Farrell, DJ in the Netherlands * Dave Farrell, the bassist in the nu metal/rapcore band Linkin Park * Eileen Farrell, famous American opera and concert singer soprano * Gail Farrell, American singer and songwriter who is famous as a member of The Lawrence Welk Show * Joe Farrell, jazz saxophonist and flautist * Perry Farrell, musician particularly noted for his varied and founding role in alternative rock during the late 1980s and 1990s * Suzanne Farrell, ballerina In sports: * Andrew Farrell, English rugby league and rugby union player * Craig Farrell, English footballer * Damien Farrell, Antiguan and Barbudan footballer * Dessie Farrell, Irish Gaelic Footballer * Frank Farrell * Greg Farrell, Scottish footballer * John Farrell (speed skating), American speed skater * Johnny Farrell, American professional golfer * Kerby Farrell, American baseball player * Renita Farrell, Australian field hockey player * Turk Farrell, American baseball player In literature: * Brian Farrell, Irish author, journalist, academic & broadcaster * Henry Farrell, the author of the Hollywood horror novel What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? * J. G. Farrell (1935-1979), Irish and British writer * John Farrell, American Poet * James T. Farrell, American novelist * Warren Farrell, American writer In television and film: * Mark Farrell, award-winning Canadian comedian and writer * Charles Farrell (1901–1990), American actor * Colin Farrell (b. 1976), Irish actor * Glenda Farrell, American film actress * Judy Farrell, actress and ex-wife of Mike Farrell * Mike Farrell, American actor * Nicholas Farrell, UK actor * Stephen Farrell (journalist) * Terry Farrell (actress) (b. 1963), American actress * Timothy Farrell, film actor that may be best known for his roles in the Ed Wood, Jr. films Jail Bait, The Violent Years, and Glen or Glenda In fiction: * Caroline Farrell, the original name of Echo, the protagonist of Joss Whedon's Dollhouse. * Jamey Farrell, fictional character * Kat Farrell, fictional character existing in Marvel Comics' Marvel Universe * Rosa Farrell, fictional character In military: * Edelmiro Julián Farrell, Argentine soldier * John Farrell, Irish recipient of the Victoria Cross In politics: * Edelmiro Julián Farrell, President of Argentina (1944-1946) * Henry Farrell (political scientist), political scientist at George Washington University * Peggy Farrell, Irish politician * Robert C. Farrell, member of the Los Angeles City Council from 1974 until 1991 * Thomas Farrell (Manitoba politician), candidate for the riding of Thomson in the Manitoba In other fields: * Brian D. Farrell, bioinformaticist and museum curator * Lennox Farrell, head of the Caribbean Cultural Committee * Scott Ferrall, American radio host * Suzanne Farrell, one of the most noted ballerinas of the 20th century * Tami Farrell, Miss Teen USA 2003 * Terry Farrell (architect), leading English architect * Thomas Farrell (general), the Deputy Commanding General and Chief of Field Operations of the Manhattan Engineer District * Mairéad Farrell (1957-1988), Irish revolutionary
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SBD/8/Sports Media
USA TODAY will expand its on-line computer services and
start by "converting the paper's existing on-line service, the
Sports Center." USA TODAY will move to a Microsoft Windows
format and continue to provide "up-to-date statistics for fantasy
league players and other sports enthusiasts" (USA TODAY,
12/8)....Time Warner will unveil its long-delayed interactive
television network next week in Orlando, FL (WALL STREET JOURNAL,
12/7)....The Clippers have their games broadcast in Mandarin
Chinese. They join nine other NBA teams that offer non-English
broadcasts (Mike Hiestand, USA TODAY, 12/8)....Fox is changing
its Sunday night schedule. Despite a strong lead-in from the
NFL, ratings are lower than expected (WALL STREET JOURNAL, 12/8).
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Can we count on the D-League?
Philadelphia, PA (Sports Network) - Mark Cuban opened his mouth recently, which is always good because it gives me something to write about.
Here's what he said: "The NCAA rules are so hypocritical, there's absolutely no reason for a kid to go [to college] ... if the goal is just to graduate to the NBA or be an NBA player, go to the D-League."
Southern Methodist head coach Larry Brown disagrees.
"They don't teach guys how to play, in my mind," Brown said about the D- League. "The head coaches in the NBA and a lot of the assistants do, but [college] is the greatest minor league system in the world."
Despite Brown's objections, one pretty prominent college player has already taken Cuban's advice. Instead of waiting for the NCAA to reinstate him, suspended University of North Carolina guard P.J. Hairston went ahead and signed with the Texas Legends, a minor league affiliate of Cuban's Dallas Mavericks.
Cuban is right about one thing. One-and-done culture has definitely gotten out of hand. Only two of the 25 players who appeared in this year's All-Star Game went to college for all four years (Indiana's Roy Hibbert and Portland's Damian Lillard).
Statements like the one Kansas freshman Andrew Wiggins made to ESPN Magazine a few months ago only strengthen Cuban's argument. Wiggins said his favorite part of playing for Kansas was "being able to enjoy my last year of school."
That subtle enough for you?
The system may be broken but the D-League is certainly not the answer. In fact, I'd contend the D-League is even more flawed than the NCAA.
Forty-six NCAA players were selected in last year's NBA Draft. In the D- League's 12 years of existence, only four D-League players have ever been drafted with none going higher than 35th. Two of those four (Chukwudiebere Maduabum and Latavious Williams) never even played in the NBA.
Of course, I'm simplifying things just a tad. It's much more common for a player to go undrafted, join the D-League and then get called up to the NBA. Plenty of D-League players have made contributions in the NBA, including Andray Blatche, Brandon Bass, J.J. Barea, Will Bynum, Marcin Gortat, Chris "Birdman" Andersen, Hasheem Thabeet, C.J. Watson and Matt Barnes.
Still, the D-League has yet to produce an NBA All-Star. That's unless you count Antoine Walker, who played for the Idaho Stampede only after his NBA career fizzled out. D-League advocates also boast that Bobby Simmons (2005 NBA Most Improved Player) is one of their own, yet he didn't join the Reno Bighorns until 2011, ten years after he was drafted by the Sonics. Ricky Davis is another former star who tried to resurrect his career in the D-League with limited success.
Andrew Goudelock was named the 12th MVP in D-League history at the end of last season. In 48 games (including postseason) at the NBA level, Goudelock has reached double-figures just six times. His career-high 20 points came in a game when the Lakers were without Steve Nash, Kobe Bryant, Jodie Meeks and Steve Blake.
Though 11 of the 12 D-League MVPs have played in the NBA, only three (Matt Carroll, Marcus Fizer and Devin Brown) have gone on to average double-digit points. None of them came close to making a difference in fantasy.
The two most recognizable D-League alums are probably Aaron Brooks and Jeremy Lin, who were teammates on the Rockets earlier this season. Brooks has since been traded to Denver.
In 2010, Brooks looked like he was on the brink of something special, averaging 19.6 ppg in his 82 appearances. Since then, he's averaged just 8.6 ppg on 40.1 percent shooting.
Lin's most productive stint, as everyone knows, came during a two-week period in February 2012 (24.6 ppg over ten appearances). The post-Linsanity Lin has only been average (13.2 ppg in his last 151 contests).
What we're finding here is that the D-League isn't a breeding ground for All- Stars. By and large, it's a place for the guys who couldn't cut it in the NBA.
But what Cuban and Brown are forgetting is that college and the D-League aren't the NBA's only "minor league" systems. EuroLeague players have been arriving in bulk over the last decade and many of them have been just as productive as their college and D-League counterparts.
Manu Ginobili (two All-Star appearances, three championships) has built a Hall of Fame career for himself since leaving Italy in the early 2000s. The Gasol brothers (five All-Star nods) have been just as dominant. Andrei Kirilenko (All-Star in 2004), Vlade Divac (All-Star in 2001) and Toni Kukoc (1996 Sixth Man of the Year) also made their mark overseas before becoming stars in the NBA. Goran Dragic (20.6 ppg), Jose Calderon (11.6 ppg) and Ricky Rubio (sixth in the league in assists) are probably headed down that same path.
That's not to say every player who makes the leap from Europe to the NBA does it flawlessly. Remember Darko Milicic (6.0 ppg over ten seasons)? I know Pistons fans would prefer not to.
Maybe commissioner Adam Silver will raise the league's age limit to 20. Maybe he'll keep it the same and the one-and-done epidemic will continue.
But hey, at least Andrew Wiggins is having a good time, right?
| dclm-gs1-011310000 |
Australian tax crackdown to target Google
Last updated 10:10 23/11/2012
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Bad news for NSA, Google encrypts search Xtra users thought encryption calls a scam Yahoo to partner search engine with Yelp NSA 'hijack' criminal botnets for spyware Review: Dark Souls II (PC) Online storage service Box is courting Hollywood Israel fears future drone threat Apple pushes labels for iTunes exclusives SXSW: 3-D printers, bitcoin and Titanfall Berners-Lee calls for online Magna Carta
Australia has released draft revisions to tax laws, which it said were designed to stop big firms, including the local arm of Google, from shifting their income to countries such as Holland or Ireland where the tax rates are lower.
The move is in line with a push by Britain and Germany who want the G20 group of nations to make multinational companies pay their "fair share" of taxes, following reports of large firms exploiting loopholes to shift taxation of their income away from where they are generated.
"While the day-to-day dealings of Australian firms advertising on Google might be with Google Australia, under the fine print of contracts Australian firms sign with Google, they are actually buying their advertising from an Irish subsidiary of Google," Bradbury said in a speech to accountants in Sydney.
Australia's company tax rate is 30 percent, compared to Ireland's rate of 12.5 percent.
Google Australia would not comment directly on Bradbury's comments, but said it complied with all local tax laws.
"We make a significant contribution to Australia's economy by helping thousands of businesses grow online, providing services to millions of Australians at no cost, as well as employing 650 people locally," a Google spokesperson said in a statement.
"We abide by all Australian tax laws."
Bradbury said Google's tax structures involved complicated royalty payments to a Dutch subsidiary which is paid back to another holding company controlled in Bermuda, where there is no corporate tax.
"The profits from the sale of advertising to an Australian firm then sit in a tax-free jurisdiction - possibly indefinitely," Bradbury said.
In October, a Reuters report showed Starbucks had legally lowered its UK tax bill with inter-company loans, paying royalty fees to foreign subsidiaries and allocating money made in the UK to other units in so-called "transfer pricing".
In other recent reports, companies including Apple have come under scrutiny for their approach to paying taxes.
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'Hardball' hits 9 tough critics where they live
On the first weekend after the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, the most popular movie in America--perhaps only coincidentally--was the story of scrappy Chicago kids playing baseball.
This is a review of that box-office hit by nine experts: Jimmie, Marques, Javon, Larry, Jesse, Kyle, Deontay, Joshua and Curtis.
It's Wednesday afternoon and the movie critics--who also happen to be players on the Zulus Little League team in Cabrini-Green--sit in the Webster Place theaters gazing at a version of their lives known as "Hardball."
Based on Daniel Coyle's book about a Cabrini Little League team much like the Zulus, the movie stars Keanu Reeves as a gambler who survives on pizza, chutzpah, Old Style and Lucky Strikes. He reluctantly agrees to coach a team of African-American kids to help pay his gambling debts. Right now, up on the screen, a bartender threatens him with a bat.
"That's a raw bat!" whispers Kyle Acker, 11
"Raw?" I whisper.
Photos: Crisis in Venezuela
"It's tight," he says. "It's cool."
For Cabrini kids, Little League has long been a refuge from the gangs and the TV, a place to feel significant and safe. And though the movie was shot at Chicago's ABLA Homes instead of Cabrini--where the old ballfield has been plowed to make way for condos--the boys up on the screen look and act a lot like the movie critics. The critics even know a couple of the stars, who right now on the screen are chanting, "We going to the ship!"
"Ship?" I whisper.
"The championship," says Kyle.
For the next hour or so, the movie critics sit transfixed. They laugh when the on-screen team curses. Sing along with Notorious B.I.G. Scoot forward silently on their seats when one of the boys is shot to death. Seem relieved when in the end everybody else is a winner. And then it's time for the reviews.
Great, most of the critics say, though Kyle shrugs. "It was iy."
Iy? "It was OK." He nods. "It feel like us."
"I liked the skills they had, like confidence," says Jimmie Johnson, 12, who auditioned for the movie team. "And the friendships."
"Even though they was cursing and stuff," says Javon Johnson. He proudly adds that the only reason his big brother wasn't picked to star was because he refused to curse as much as the script required. Not that the movie critics don't curse. Just not that much, not during the game. Their coach wouldn't stand for it.
The Zulu movie critics also agree the movie didn't get the violence right. They object to a scene in which gangbangers beat up one of the boys and another in which a boy is shot in gang fire.
"The project we from, it violent, but it ain't like that," says Jimmie. "Tell you the truth, some members of the gangs, they reason with kids. They ain't shooting kids."
"It was like that back when I was, like, 6," says Larry Phillips, 10.
"Most people in the projects, they have guns," says Jesse Shivers, 13. "But they only use it on special occasions."
Kyle flashes him a look. "They shot in our building day before yesterday."
What about a scene in which one of the boys says, "Where I'm from, don't nobody father come back"? Did that ring true for them and their friends, that fathers leave and don't return? Most of the critics nod.
"He talking about reality," says Joshua Berry, 13.
And what about the coach? How does n'er-do-well Reeves compare with Andrew Denlow, a cheerful 26-year-old account executive they seem to revere?
"Our coach, he work," says Jimmie.
"Our coach," pouts Javon, "he don't get us new uniforms like in the movie."
Jimmie ices him with a stare. "We grateful for what we get."
"Hardball" isn't a great movie. The script sags. It's implausible at points. It doesn't do justice to the devoted coaches in Cabrini-Green's Little League. But it gives a realistic sense of how some Americans live day to day with death and hardship and still manage to find love, meaning and victory. No wonder it was popular last weekend.
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Lottery scam still pops up
Mrs. Smith (fictitious name) told us she recently received what appears to be a form letter from "The National Lottery (In Conjunction With Blanchard Contractors, Inc)." It states that she is the "lucky winner in the World International Consumers Sweepstake to be held in the United Kingdom on the 13th of May 2013." The letter informed Mrs. Smith that her name was randomly selected from a computer database. She became part of the database when she or a household member shopped at a North American department store using a credit or debit card and was the winner of $135,000.
Enclosed was a valid-appearing check in the amount of $3,750, which was deducted from her prize money. She was asked to pay a nonresident tax of $1,750 and a $930 processing fee. She was instructed to deposit the check in her bank and draw funds from it to pay $2,680 for the tax and fees. She then was to contact her "claims agents for further directives." The two payments were to be made only through Western Union Money transfer and Money Gram. She was told that after she completed making the payments she would receive a second check (delivered by FedEx) which would be the balance of her $135,000.
Of course, she won nothing, and if had she chosen to follow the given instructions, she would have ended up losing $2,680.
Though the sweepstakes scam is an old one, people are still falling for it; otherwise it would no longer be making its rounds in our area as well as many other parts of the United States. The scammer just chose the name of a reputable, existing company to print on the check (Blanchard Contractors Inc.) hoping people would recognize the name and know that it is a good company thus the victim-to-be may more likely fall for this scam ... but fortunately the scam.
Watch out for this mystery shopper offer
In a tough economy, consumers are trying to find some work to help pay their bills. There have been reports of college students being reeled in by online "Mystery Shopping" opportunities, which involve receiving a check (counterfeit) and filling out a survey about the efficiency of Western Union's money-transfer services. Once the money is sent off and the bank figures out that the check is counterfeit, they go after the person who deposited it into his/her bank account. The bank has to get money from somewhere! The people receiving the money through Western Union service never identify themselves and most likely are operating in a foreign country, which makes it next to impossible for law enforcement to track.
BBB tip: Check with the BBB first to ensure that a mystery shopping opportunity is on the up and up.
| dclm-gs1-011340000 |
High School Reunion
Interview With Tim Gittings
Episode Report Card
Wendola: A | Grade It Now!
A Beer With Tim
Yeah, it seemed like some of the others there were just there to have a good time, and didn't have a problem with anyone else, and so they just got less screen time. Definitely. You know one thing that really surprised me -- okay, I spent a lot of time making fun of Dan Barbato and his man boobs during the show, and all the posters on the boards were like, "Oh my God, what does Natasha see in him?" But when I saw him in person I was surprised at how much taller he was, and…I hate to admit it, but you can see that he sort of has it going on somehow. Yeah, the thing with Dan is that he's just totally himself. He's always himself in all circumstances and he makes no apologies for that. He's just like -- well, if you don't like him, he doesn't care; it's not that he wouldn't want people to like him, then it's no skin off his back. He was just really cool to hang out with. Yeah, and by the end of the show a lot of people on the boards were beginning to come around to him and were like, "Okay, Dan's all right." Incidentally, one of the best boxing matches that one day -- because everyone fought -- was Dan P. and Dan B. Wait, you guys all boxed? Oh yeah. And the Dans -- that was an epic battle; that was the heavyweight bout. Because both Dans are big, like Dan P. is pretty cut, and Dan Barbato's pretty fucking strong. They were both dishing it out. That was a good fight. So what were some of the other fights? Natasha and Maya got in the ring, and they were just kind of kidding around, but then Summer and Sarah got in the ring, and they totally went at it! Like, at first they were joking around, but then Sarah hit Summer in the boob, and so Summer clocked her on top of her head, and then it was this huge fight. It was awesome. Oh, that would have been great to see. I'm sure there are guys who would pay to see that, too. Yeah, the boxing was so much fun…Jeff K. and I fought, and we were the only ones to make it through three rounds. It was pretty funny, because I was supposed to fight Dave Goodman. I mean, we asked for all that boxing stuff, and when we got it we were trying to decide who would fight who, and Dave was like, "Hey, you want to fight? We're probably about the same weight and everything." He would've probably killed me, but I was like, "Sure, okay." But then at the last minute [the producers] were like, "Hey, we're going to have Ben fight Dave. Why don't you fight Jeff?" Because Jeff and Ben were going to fight originally. And we were like…uh, okay.
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Protecting astronauts beyond the ISS
Astronauts venturing beyond the safety of the International Space Station (ISS) will face increased exposure to cosmic radiation.
Water-mining lunar robot revealed
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Exploring the moon in 3D
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The man who walked the moon passes away
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Perseid meteor shower will hit peak on Saturday
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Hubble spots fifth Pluto moon
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NASA completes main Grail mission ahead of time
NASA's Grail mission to study the moon from crust to core has completed its main task ahead of schedule, gathering information about the internal structure and evolution of the moon in unprecedented detail.
From lunar rovers to wet wipes: protecting artifacts on the moon
NASA's a bit concerned that the rush to the moon created by Google's Lunar X Prize could damage historic sites there.
NASA uses moon as mirror to watch Venus transit sun
Just like human eyes, the Hubble Space Telescope can't observe the sun directly - so NASA scientists plan to study Venus's solar transit in June by using the moon as a mirror.
NASA says the moon's crust is being stretched
New images snapped by NASA's Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO) indicate the moon's crust is actually being stretched - forming minute valleys in a few small areas on the lunar surface.
Moon 'wasn't created by giant collision'
A new chemical analysis of lunar material collected by Apollo astronauts in the 1970s appears to disprove theories that the moon was created through a massive collision between Earth and a Mars-sized object 4.5 billion years ago.
Cosmic rays alter chemistry of lunar ice
A bombardment of cosmic rays on the moon's surface could be creating complex carbon chains similar to those that form the foundations of biological life. | dclm-gs1-011370000 |
Gilchrist gloves glove-making controversy.
Lyall Johnson
February 29, 2008
YOU simply get given them, train with them, then wear them in a game. Nothing sinister in that.
That was Adam Gilchrist's take on the Mahendra Singh Dhoni wicketkeeping glove saga after it emerged the Australian keeper's gloves were made by the same company that makes Dhoni's.
While stating that New Zealand match referee Jeff Crowe said Dhoni's gloves were illegal, the Australian vice-captain yesterday defended Dhoni and the glove manufacturer, India's Sunrising Sportings Goods, which also hand-stitches his gloves before they are rebranded with the Puma logo.
"I know the gentleman that makes them and they're the best in the world, they're brilliant. Maybe you just, in the manufacturing process — they're all hand-made and hand-stitched — so they may have just used a little bit too much leather in that area," he said.
"I have absolutely no doubt that he hasn't intentionally done that and tried to get away or pull the wool over anyone's eyes.
"We're spoiled for choice, we just get gear, you put it on, you train in it. So I don't think they were glaringly obvious to be different to what, say, I use or anyone else at the moment, or what is legal at the moment."
Gilchrist added that he has match referees check his gloves about once a summer to ensure they are within the regulations and he has never had any issue.
And he added that the problem with Dhoni's gloves was only slight and was in no way an attempt to return to the gloves of a decade ago, which were beginning to resemble baseball mitts. "They're nothing like what we were wearing when I first started my career, we were wearing gloves (that) were almost like a baseball mitt," he said.
"I remember at the time when they changed it, I sort of thought 'they're kidding aren't they, what's the big deal?' But on reflection they were getting out of hand and the ones that Dhoni was using the other day are nothing like that.
"It is not a case (that) they tried to slip back to the gloves of nine years ago that had (a) really big pouch in the glove. Far from that, I promise you I'm not accusing anyone of that. He was just too good for himself, Dhoni, took too good a catch and exposed it I suppose, the fact that there was a little discrepancy there."
He predicted more policing of wicketkeeping gloves would be the result of the incident.
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A teenager had his ear bitten off when he was attacked by two American Staffordshire terriers while walking his dog in Sydney's south west yesterday afternoon.
The 19-year-old was walking along Lehn Road, East Hills, about 3.20pm, when the dogs ran towards him.
When the teenager tried to save his own dog, the terriers began mauling his legs and he fell to the ground, police said.
Police said the two dogs then began biting his head and tore off his left ear.
Neighbours came to help the teenager, and the dogs ran away.
The teenager's ear was found and surgeons at Liverpool Hospital worked to reattach it, but a spokeswoman for the hospital could not confirm whether the operation was successful.
He was in a stable condition this morning.
The two dogs have been seized and their owner is assisting police.
Police originally said the dogs were pit bull terriers, but have since been given updated information on the breed.
Inspector David Firth, from Bankstown police, said police believed the dogs escaped from their yard.
"My understanding is they actually scaled the colourbond fence," Inspector Firth told ABC 702 this morning.
He said police were speaking to the owner, who had been of "great assistance" in giving information about the dogs.
"He has owned them both since they were puppies and, in consultation with the council, we will be looking at taking action against him."
Inspector Firth said the breed is not on the restricted dog list in NSW and the dogs had not been declared dangerous.
"There was not any history of them attacking anyone in the past."
Residents in Lehn Road said they often saw the owner walking the dogs on leads.
In 2010-11, there were 252 reported attacks from American Staffordshire terriers in NSW, and 16,503 of the dogs were registered with councils, according to local council data.
Attacks are defined as incidents where dogs rush at, bite, harrass or chase a person or another animal.
The five breeds that were responsible for the highest number of attacks in that period were the bull terrier (Staffordshire), Australian cattle dog, German shepherd, American Staffordshire terrier and rottweiler.
However, the dogs with the highest rates of attack were the Tibetan mastiff, pit bull terrier, Chesapeake Bay retriever, central Asian shepherd dog and mastiff.
Veterinarian Peter Higgins, of Dogs NSW, said attacks always came down to owners, not breeds.
"I'm getting to the stage now where I think we've got to make it compulsory for people to do training.
"Dogs are attack animals, so if you take control, if you’re the boss, then a lot of these attacks will actually go away."
Dr Higgins said the breed of dog believed to be involved in the attack needed a strict owner.
"They need a strong boss. If you’re not that sort of person, they’ll start doing their own thing.
"If it does have a strong owner it's fine, I’ve see it curled up in beds with kids, and on picnics and things like that.
"That’s because the owners know what the dogs are all about and the dogs turn into a sook basically, they turn into a baby."
Dr Higgins said there should be laws like those in Victoria to stop people going "underground" and cross-breeding dogs in order to get around breed restrictions.
"We say the laws have got to look at individual dogs, looking at breeds is a waste of time." | dclm-gs1-011400000 |
The Fresh Loaf
News & Information for Amateur Bakers and Artisan Bread Enthusiasts
sourdough starter questions
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Kroha's picture
sourdough starter questions
I started a rye sourdough starter today, as described in Hamelman's book, 450 g water and 450 g organic whole rye flour. The consistency is a very thick paste -- is that OK? My husband says I need to add water.
I am also pretty confused about maintaining it. Again, I have read what Hamelman said about it, but it just does come together for me. After I develop a mature culture, I plan on baking with it maybe once a week, sometimes maybe not even as often as I like to bake different types of breads. How should I handle my starter? Do I need to keep feeding it every day even if I won't use it? Would I discard some every day as well? How far in advance of baking does it need to come out of the fridge? After I take it out, do I need to do anything to get it readsy to go? I guess I am not understanding the science behimnd managing a starter -- is there an explanation someone could provide, or maybe direct me to a resource where I could read up on this.
Thank you in advance!
rainwater's picture
When you feed your starter, usually after baking with it.......let it rise and bubble.....when it does this....put it in the refrigerator until you may need to use it. Take it out the day before and feed it again, unless you are going to make a levain with it, which is like a feeding but gives you exactly what the formula calls for. After making your dough, feed the starter, let it bubble, and refrigerate....I leave mine in the refrigerator for two weeks without bothering with it.
Bring your intuition to the table.....look at your starter when you haven't used it for a may seem to need two feedings before baking with it after sitting in the fridge for a while. I'm going to bake bread on my day off, and haven't given my starter much attention....I fed it today, but I "feel" another feeding will give it strength before baking with it. We'll see.
Reinhart makes what he considers a very important point about feeding your least double the starter when feeding......even triple or quadruple. I feed a pound (water and flour) to 8 ounces of starter.
You can take left over starter and use it in a yeasted bread recipe, just use baker's math to figure how much water and flour is in your leftover starter, and subtract this from the flour and water in a yeasted bread recipe.....and then proceed with the normal yeast recipe.
I hope this is helpful.
Pablo's picture
Hi Yulika,
If you type "maintain starter" in the search box at the top left of the page you'll get lots of hits, lots of interesting stuff to read. 450g of water and 450g of rye flour will give a paste, no question.
There are lots of ways to maintain your starter, from very low maintenance to very high maintenance. It sounds like you'll probably be interested in getting your starter going and then keeping it in the 'fridge and feeding every week or two (or 3) instead of on the counter and feeding every day or 2 or 3 times a day.
FYI here's my schedule: I keep my starter at room temperature and feed it either 2x a day or once a day, depending on how it seems to be doing. I keep a very small amount of starter (30g) so I am discarding a very small amount when I feed it. It's what's working for me now. I've done it many different ways in the last year that I've been doing this. I suggest that you read some threads on the site here and pick a way that you're comfortable with for now with the option to change your mind anywhere along the way.
flournwater's picture
Starter isn't that difficult. It's sometimes made to sound difficult with all the "rules" that some well meaning bakers will throw at you. They're only trying to help ensure you'll be successful and, sometimes, they just get too many rules in front of the process. First, select the "recipe" for the starter you want to build. Then, follow the recipe. This is an important first step so be sure to follow the recipe carefully. Once the starter is active and healthy. which can take a few weeks. decide how you intend to use it (and how often) and establish a feeding schedule that you can live with. Rainwater has a once per week feeding schedule which includes some environmental considerations (room temperature periods etc.) that is pretty close to what I use. I too have forgotten my starter for as much as two weeks and it's always recovered quite easily. Your question about having to discard half the starter before feeding it deserves an answer - which is "no". The only reason you discard starter is to make room for the addition of new ingredients in what will presumabely be a container with some limited capacity. You can throw out half, use half in a recipe (dinner rolls, waffles, pancakes, etc.) even if you don't want to bake bread within a day or two of your feeding time. On the other hand, you don't have to discard any of it ever if you have the abiility to maintain large quantities of the stuff.
Whether your starter is a paste or tends to lean more toward a liquid depends on the amount of hydration. Whether you decide to use a wet, poolish style starter or a firmer bega style, is up to you. I think the most important advice anyone could give you is to be thorough in building your starter but don't be afraid to fail. Failure is, IMO, the greatest tool for learning. Success teaches us nothing but failure offers lessons of profound value.
rainbowz's picture
Here's a post from another discussion on starting a starter:
The reason you WANT to cut back is purely mathematical.
I'm also a little stunned that Hamelman wants to start with 900g of starter - that's almost 4 cups!! That a rather huge amount. You could cut back to 45g water + 45g flour and that's still plenty, then you won't be chucking quite so much starter each time.
SourdoughBaker's picture
Hi Yulika,
I won't add to everything said here, but I can send you a fairly comprehensive article which covers pretty much exactly what you are talking about. It's at Copy and paste into your browser. It's not specifically about rye, but it translates pretty well, I've found. Good luck! What a great forum! So helpful.
AnnaInMD's picture
The description is hard to read since a lot of text is in the dark purple area.
Is there a way to see it better ?
Thank you !
ClimbHi's picture
with your settings -- it shows up as black text on white on my monitor. That said, when I encounter dark text on dark backgrounds, I just highlight the area I want to read by holding the left mouse button down and dragging over the text. This usually results in a temporarily readable page.
Pittsburgh, PA
JIP's picture
Pretty much everything I have ever read on making a Rye starter has said that it should be expected to be pasty or even dry and crumbly. I made a rye starter from Nancy Silverton's book and she sai one important thing about a rye starter. A rye starter can very easily turn rancid over a short pieriod of time so it is best to make a rye starter from a white one as needed but be prepared if you use Silverton's book buy stock in grain mill ahead of time as she is HEAVY on the flour wastage when making and feeding a starter.
Yerffej's picture
Much has already been said here but basically do not worry about the whole process.
It is far easier than it seems by all of the instructions. I never measure when feeding my rye starter but just add a healthy splash of water and then enough rye flour to make a paste. The starter lives in the refrigerator and I take it out about 24 hours before I am going to use it and feed it a couple of times at 8-12 hour intervals. I only keep a couple of ounces of starter so that I am not throwing away starter in the general course of things.
bassopotamus's picture
That seems like an awful lot of starter to start with
I followed Reinhart's directions, and I think it started with about 2 TBS of flour, and then you grow it from there. I keep a couple pounds on hand, but we bake quite a lot.
My starter is a 67%, which I like because basically I can throw a chunk of it into whatever without really adjusting. I'll do this for yeast breads where I want more flavor but don't have a day for the preferment to sit. 67% is close enough to most of the doughs that I make that a couple ounces of it in a 6-10 lbs of dough doesn't really monkey with the hydration much
M2's picture
I also have a question about feeding the starter. My starter is kept in the fridge. I've read that I'm supposed to feed the starter to make it lively again before using it, AND, feed it after using it. If I follow this routine, I'll be doubling the starter every time I use it (use once, feed twice). It will be very difficult to control the volume without discarding it. (There are only the two of us in the house and there are other things we want to eat!)
rainbowz's picture
If you're not going to use it in the recipe, then you need to discard it, whether that means you use the excess in other baked goods like pancakes or pizza dough. Otherwise, put it in the compost or the trash and consider it well used.
Kroha's picture
Thank you everyone for your responses. Very helpful. I am proceeding with the started, and made some yummy sour corn rye bread (our of Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book) and rolls out of the stuff I was supposed to discard. I tried to attach pictures, but cannot figure out how to do that here. Anyway, looking forward to future experiments, no doubt I will have more questions!
Kroha's picture
He just has two sets of directions, one for professional bakers, and one for home use. Directions for professional bakers are in metric units, and for home use are non-metric. Not having looked too closely, I assumed they were the same, and since I prefer metric, that's what I went with. For home use he recommends smaller amounts, and I now reduced how much I have. The discarded stuff will become bread tomorrow. Yulika | dclm-gs1-011410000 |
The Fresh Loaf
News & Information for Amateur Bakers and Artisan Bread Enthusiasts
A little bague-xperiment
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Ryan Sandler's picture
Ryan Sandler
A little bague-xperiment
Last sunday we went over to my mom's for a mother's day brunch with the family. My mom asked me to "just take a baguette out of the freezer". You know, since baking a batch of bread in time to leave for a 11am brunch (we live about an hour away) would be tricky. The problem? No baguettes in the freezer--we've run through them all since I finished up my baguette quest.
A challenge! This presented a great opportunity to experiment with cold retardation with my standard baguette recipe, Hamelman's Baguettes with Poolish, as well as test just how well they keep at room temperature. Here's what I did:
I mixed a batch of baguette dough around 2 in the afternoon. I then shapped 3 small baguettes a little after 5pm, and set to proofing on a couche. However, for one of the 3 I put a small sheet of parchment underneath. After 40 minutes of proofing, I slid the baguette on parchment off of the couche to finish proofing, while the couche itself with the other 2 baguettes was slid onto a sheet pan and stuck in the refrigerator. The lone baguette was baked when fully proofed, about 75 minutes total. Once it was cool, the baguette was placed in a plastic bag that was not fully sealed, and then wrapped in a paper market bag.
Later, at 10:30, I pulled the couche out of the fridge, flipped one of the baguettes onto parchment on a peel, and baked it immediately, while the other went back into the fridge. Baguette #2 sat on the cooling rack all night, unwrapped (mainly because it was past 11 by then!)
The next morning, the last baguette was baked at 9:30am and taken straight from the oven into a paper bag as we hurried out the door at little after 10.
The results:
From Left to Right: Not retarded, Retarded 4 hours, Retarded 15 hours.
The baguette retarded overnight had lots of bubble in the crust, which made it very crisp and crackly. All three had similar (good) flavor, and seemed plenty moist inside. The baguette not retarded was crisped in the oven before cutting, but I presume it was crisp when fresh. The baguette retarded for 4 hours was rather chewy when we got to it (we took that one home and my wife and I ate it for dinner), about 20 hours after baking.
Crumb shots:
Retarded overnight
Not Retarded
Retarded 4 hours
Longer retarding seemed to be correlated with a lower profile, with the non-retarded baguette being the most round (although the baguettes were sliced on the bias, and were less flat than the slices indicate). I don't think this was underproofing, as the grigne looks pretty clean on those baguettes. The retarded baguettes were much easier to score than the one that had not been retarded.
Conclusion: Retarding baguettes gives a distinctive bubbly crust (for better or for worse), and makes them easier to score, but results in a lower profile. Flavor is about the same either way. As long as the crust is re-crisped, a baguette can sit un-cut at room temperature overnight and be nearly as good as first baked, and as good or better than frozen and thawed. Interesting.
RonRay's picture
Thanks for posting your experiment. I find the data is interesting.
Anjali's picture
What does 'lower profile' mean? Does it mean that it did not rise as much as the less retarded and non-retarded ones?
Thanks for posting the pics and the explaination. It helps clarify better because of visual inputs for newbies like me.
Ryan Sandler's picture
Ryan Sandler
By lower profile I mean flatter/less round. Which isn't quite the same thing as less risen (depends on how much the dough spread, right?), but is about the same.
Glad you found it useful. :)
lumos's picture
Very interesting experiment! Thank you for sharing. :)
Hamelman's Poolish baguette is one of my favourite baguette recipes, closely followed by Richard Bertinet's poolish baguette, which a little lower proportion of pre-fermented flour than Hamelman's.
I've never cold-retarded shaped baguettes in a fridge, mainly because I rarely have enough room in a fridge, but I do often cold retard during bulk fermentation for at least 6 hours or overnight sometimes, and I find it improves the flavour and makes it a little more chewy, though this method might have not be suitable for your particular scheduling issue. | dclm-gs1-011420000 |
Blasting the US with punk Islam
Punks from the left and right reject us, we're slammed for using Islamic ideas – but we don't care, this tour's a labour of love
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Basim Usmani of the Kominas
Basim Usmani plays with the Kominas. Photograph: Kim Badawi/Redux
After playing a gig in Toronto, we were stopped at the Canadian border on our way back Stateside, and questioned like this:
"What's your band called?"
"The Kominas."
"Never heard of you."
And I smiled from ear to ear. He just waved us through, which he certainly wouldn't have done had he known about us. But we won't be so snug under the radar forever.
We've travelled a lot. In America, where we're currently touring, the only way to make a lasting impact is to repeatedly gig across the length of the US and back again. Our health, and our instruments' welfare, can fall by the wayside when we're trying to make five dollar bills stretch across states. It's interesting when your love can momentarily be a way of life. We spend most of our time in transit, or lugging gear around towns. I have to carry the case of my bass guitar under my arm, otherwise it would just break in half.
Music here is a hustle the way it isn't anywhere else. There are thousands and thousands of bands on every street, and everyone has a shtick. There are Rastafarian Hasidic Jews, crust-punk Arabs, Afro-punks and Cambodian surf rockers. Considering that, it amazes me how so many people react so strangely to Taqwacore, the style of music we're playing. Outside the bars where we play there are always gaggles of smokers who want to grill me about what we do, and how legitimate we are.
The profile of such people is always the same. They have read somewhere in a news article what we're about. They haven't heard any of our music, but have a lot of opinions about it anyway. So much for giving it away for free.
Some object to the Kominas' engagement with spiritual or Islamic ideas, others object to us playing punk music while living in our parents' homes. Others object to how we may blaspheme or how most of us aren't Muslim. Rightwing punks think we're fake, self-aggrandising and unpatriotic; leftwing punks think we're un-hip, self hating, and secretly sectarian or sexist. Some even went as far as to say I was a race traitor for working with a white convert. The only thing that hasn't been considered about us is how broke we are. It's not doing us any great financial favours to be musicians, it's a labour of love in the truest sense.
Music can now be downloaded and deleted faster than spyware – and it certainly seems like it's the idea behind the music that has taken precedence over the music itself. Concerts make everything very real, and we've seen so many changes since we first started, when we would practise in empty classrooms and sleep in parking lots. The media in the US will continue repeating the same 500-word story of Mike Knight's novel, the Taqwacores, and how it inspired all the "Muslim punks" (a term we would be delighted to disown).
Of course, this rehashed news story is different from the truth. The Kominas, as a group, were formed with much bigger plans in mind. At our most recent gig at Toronto, we played with Humble the Poet, an MC affiliated with the Sikh Activist Network who rhymes about growing up working class and Sikh in Canada and has a poignant song about the 1984 Golden Temple massacre. One of our first gigs ever in New York City was a benefit we organised for a vandalised Hindu temple in Minnesota.
The first shot in the trailer of Omar Majeed's documentary Taqwacore takes place in a Chicano punk house where Latino punks, first- and second-generation immigrants from Mexico, took us on as brothers in arms.
And still, people think we're writing for Muslims. The blogosphere is an interesting thing to be working against. But we have a great advantage: for more gigs, and more touring, we're not afraid of our instruments getting nicked. Maybe we'll dent some of these naysaying mindsets as well.
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Researchers find 'strong evidence' of genetic link to contracting meningitis
Discovery that gene mutations can determine whether a person develops meningitis could help in the search for a vaccine
Genetic link meningitis
The genetic link to meningitis was made after researchers studied the DNA of 6,500 people. Photograph: Ann Johansson/ Ann Johansson/Corbis
Researchers have found "the strongest evidence so far" that genetic factors can increase the risk of a person developing meningitis. The discovery that gene mutations can determine whether a person develops the disease could help in the search for a vaccine for certain strains.
The findings were made after researchers studied the DNA of 1,500 people with the disease, and 5,000 without, to find anomalies between different groups.
Researchers looked at half a million common genetic variants scattered across each person's genome – which holds information on inheritable traits – and found that some people have differences in their natural defences that make them more vulnerable to contracting the disease.
The results of the study are published in the journal Nature Genetics.
They reveal that those who had developed meningococcal meningitis, a bacterial form of meningitis that affects the brain membrane and can cause death within hours, had markers on a number of genes that were involved in attacking and killing invasive bacteria.
Paediatrician Professor Michael Levin, of Imperial College London, said: "Although most of us have carried the meningitis bacteria at some point, only around one in 40,000 people develop it. Our study set out to understand what causes this small group of people to become very ill while others remain immune. Our findings provide the strongest evidence so far that there are genetic factors that lead to people developing meningitis."
While most people are exposed to the bacteria that causes meningitis at some point in their lives, the vast majority do not develop the disease, and the new research further suggests that a person's genetic makeup can determine whether or not they develop it.
It may also go some way to explaining why some people's immune systems are able to keep the bacteria in check while others contract the disease and deteriorate rapidly.
While antibiotics can treat some strains of meningococcal bacteria, the disease can become critical within hours.
Dr Victoria Wright, one of the study's co-researchers, said: "Improving our understanding of why some people get the disease and not others will help to identify those at risk and develop better vaccines." Researchers hope that their findings will help in developing effective vaccines to combat the group B strain of the virus which has so far proved elusive to treatment
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Nation Topics - Law | The Nation
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News and Features
On November 7, voters in Alabama erased from that state's Constitution a provision dating from 1901 that declared that "the legislature shall never pass any law to authorize or legalize any marriage between any white person and a Negro, or descendant of a Negro." This declaration represented in part a desire by white supremacists to express as fully as possible their intention to expunge the racially egalitarian symbols, hopes and reforms of Reconstruction. Although Alabama had never enacted a law expressly authorizing interracial marriage, in 1872 the state's Supreme Court did invalidate the law that prohibited such unions. But it promptly reversed itself in 1877 when white supremacists regained power. The Alabama Constitution's disapproval of interracial marriage, however, had still deeper roots. It stemmed from the presumption that white men had the authority to dictate whom, in racial terms, a person could and could not marry. It was also rooted in the belief that certain segments of the population were simply too degraded to be eligible as partners in marriage with whites. At one point or another, forty states prohibited marriage across racial lines. In all of them blacks were stigmatized as matrimonial untouchables. In several, "Mongolians" (people of Japanese or Chinese ancestry), "Malays" (Filipinos) and Native Americans were also placed beyond the pale of acceptability.
Rationales for barring interracial marriage are useful to consider, especially since some of them echo so resonantly justifications voiced today by defenders of prohibitions against same-sex marriage. One rationale for barring interracial marriages was that the progeny of such matches would be incapable of procreating. Another was that God did not intend for the races to mix. Another was that colored people, especially blacks, are irredeemably inferior to whites and pose a terrible risk of contamination. The Negrophobic Thomas Dixon spoke for many white supremacists when he warned in his novel The Leopard's Spots that "this Republic can have no future if racial lines are broken and its proud citizenry sinks to the level of a mongrel breed." A single drop of Negro blood, he maintained apocalyptically, "kinks the hair, flattens the nose, then the lip, puts out the light of intellect, and lights the fires of brutal passions."
Although opponents of prohibitions on interracial marriage have waged struggles in many forums (e.g., academia, the churches, journalism), two in particular have been decisive. One is the courtroom. In 1967 in the most aptly titled case in American history--Loving v. The Commonwealth of Virginia--the United States Supreme Court ruled that prohibitions against interracial marriage violated the equal protection and due process clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment. (Although much credit is lavished on the Court's decision, it bears noting that nineteen years earlier, in 1948, the Supreme Court of California had reached the same conclusion in an extraordinary, albeit neglected, opinion by Justice Roger Traynor.) When the federal Supreme Court struck down Jim Crow laws at the marriage altar, it relied on the massive change in public attitudes reflected and nourished by Brown v. Board of Education (1954), Martin Luther King Jr.'s "I Have A Dream" address (1963), the Civil Rights Act (1964) and the Voting Rights Act (1965). The Court also relied on the fact that by 1967, only sixteen states, in one region of the country, continued to retain laws prohibiting interracial marriage. This highlights the importance of the second major forum in which opponents of racial bars pressed their struggle: state legislatures. Between World War II and the Civil Rights Revolution, scores of state legislatures repealed bans against interracial marriage, thereby laying the moral, social and political groundwork for the Loving decision. Rarely will any court truly be a pioneer. Much more typically judges act in support of a development that is already well under way.
Unlike opponents of Brown v. Board of Education, antagonists of Loving were unable to mount anything like "massive resistance." They neither rioted, nor promulgated Congressional manifestoes condemning the Court, nor closed down marriage bureaus to prevent the desegregation of matrimony. There was, however, some opposition. In 1970, for example, a judge near Fort McClellan, Alabama, denied on racial grounds a marriage license to a white soldier and his black fiancée. This prompted a lawsuit initiated by the US Justice Department that led to the invalidation of Alabama's statute prohibiting interracial marriage. Yet the Alabama constitutional provision prohibiting the enactment of any law expressly authorizing black-white interracial marriage remained intact until the recent referendum.
That an expression of official opposition to interracial marriage remained a part of the Alabama Constitution for so long reflects the fear and loathing of black-white intimacy that remains a potent force in American culture. Sobering, too, was the closeness of the vote; 40 percent of the Alabama electorate voted against removing the obnoxious prohibition. Still, given the rootedness of segregation at the marriage altar, the ultimate outcome of the referendum should be applauded. The complete erasure of state-sponsored stigmatization of interracial marriage is an important achievement in our struggle for racial justice and harmony.
Even the relatively better-informed mainstream accounts fail to convey the brutality of this policy. There are a number of excellent news outlets for those who want unjaundiced reporting. The website for Middle East Research and Information Project is trustworthy (www.merip.org), as is the Electronic Intifada (electronicintifada.net/new.html). For the latter, the intro essay by Nigel Parry gives a useful overview of media coverage. Electronic Intifada also has links to other sites, as does ZNet's Mideast Watch (www.zmag.org/meastwatch/meastwat.htm). Particularly comprehensive is Birzeit University's (www.birzeit.edu/links).
Fair Game
A corporate antiviolence program targets students who don't fit in.
As the media obsessed over the seesaw presidential poll, voters across the country quietly made their choices on more than 200 disparate ballot measures and initiatives. For progressives the results are--as usual--mixed.
In Missouri corporate opponents--including Anheuser-Busch, KC Power & Light, Hallmark Cards and the Missouri Association of Realtors--poured hundreds of thousands into their victorious antireform campaign. Californians, meanwhile, approved Proposition 34, billed as campaign reform but actually cooked up by the establishment to block real reform. The returns on these three measures should compel campaign finance reform activists to rethink their strategies. These are significant and stinging defeats.
Colorado voters defeated the so-called informed consent measure on abortion, but Arizona and Nebraska approved a ban on same-sex marriages and civil unions. In Maine a measure to protect gays from discrimination was defeated. In Oregon the notorious Measure 9, which outlaws "teaching" homosexuality in schools, failed. Oregonians also rejected two antiunion "paycheck protection" measures, which the state labor federation had vigorously fought.
DNA testing can convict the guilty; it can also destroy the privacy of millions.
In New Mexico, communists who fail to register their party affiliation with the state commit a felony. Under New Mexico's DNA databanking law, if they are caught they are required to submit a DNA sample to the department of public safety. In Idaho, consensual sodomy with a partner other than your spouse constitutes a sex-crime felony. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the act are similarly required by law to submit a tissue sample to the state's DNA databank for the purposes of preventing future sex crimes. And if Governor George Pataki is successful in the next legislative session, New York will begin collecting genetic material from any person convicted of a misdemeanor, such as resisting arrest or disorderly conduct as a result of peaceful civil disobedience.
In an age of biotechnology and computers, we are all but a needle-stick away from disclosing hereditary-disease susceptibilities, familial relationships and identifying information. Anyone who values privacy should therefore be concerned that US law-enforcement agencies are amassing ever larger portions of the general population's DNA while neglecting to implement measures that would protect the privacy and presumptive innocence of citizens. And because DNA evidence is currently enjoying an unprecedented degree of bipartisan enthusiasm, these gradual developments have tended to be sheltered from the criticism that might otherwise confront such policies.
Not that DNA evidence's celebrity isn't well deserved. It is many rape victims' best hope for identifying their assailants and law enforcement's most penetrating method of apprehending serial offenders. It can be credited with triggering a re-examination of the nation's capital punishment system by exonerating eight death-row inmates. Like its predecessor, the fingerprint, DNA profiles are a reliable means of identifying individuals (except in the case of identical twins). But glib analogies to fingerprints obscure important differences. DNA samples can reveal far more information than fingerprints, including sensitive medical conditions, traits or a person's biological parentage. In addition, while fingerprints are unique to every individual, genetic profiles are partially shared among blood relatives. Thus, databanks contain identifying information on nonoffending relatives of people explicitly covered by databanking statutes. Finally, because we shed our genetic calling cards in a trail of hair follicles, skin flecks, saliva aerosols and finger smudges, DNA can also provide a trace of our activities.
DNA databanks are premised on statistics indicating that individuals convicted of a serious violent offense often commit other violent offenses that leave behind incriminating DNA. Tissue samples, usually in the form of a blood sample or cheek swab, are thus collected from offenders covered by their state's databank laws and are analyzed using a technique called "profiling," which detects genetic variations among individuals that, at least as currently understood by geneticists, have no biological function. The resulting data are then computerized so that profiles produced from crime-scene samples can be compared with those already in the database, allowing authorities to eliminate certain suspects or target those whose profiles match. In effect, databanks provide a means of genetically frisking anyone who has ever committed a covered offense for any crime in which DNA has been recovered.
As of June 1998 all fifty states had enacted statutes authorizing state and local law-enforcement agencies to operate criminal DNA databases and to pool their DNA profiles into a national FBI-operated database called CODIS (Combined DNA Identification System). Though the earliest laws targeted convicted violent sexual felons, civil libertarians looked to the history of Social Security numbers, fingerprinting and drug-testing to warn of an inevitable migration of the technique from convict to suspect terrain. A decade later, as many states have passed laws to cover new offender categories, the Cassandras appear to have been vindicated. Delaware, for instance, requires submission of genetic samples for all those who have committed offenses against children, which include selling tobacco or tattooing minors without the consent of a guardian. Twenty-three states cover certain categories of misdemeanors, and seven states have enacted legislation that would require DNA submission for any felony, which extends DNA databanking into realms such as perjury, larceny, bribery and fraud. Thus, in addition to New Mexico's statute covering unregistered communists, Alabama's code covers tax evaders and Virginia's targets people who deface brands or marks on timber. Experts like CODIS program director Steve Niezgoda have predicted that all states will eventually amend their statutes to cover all felonies; four states have already done so, and another three have recently considered or will consider such an expansion in their next legislative sessions. Among these three, New York's proposal stands out as by far the nation's most comprehensive, targeting all convicted felons and class-A misdemeanants.
DNA databanking laws are furthermore part of the ferment that is corroding the century-old juvenile justice system that treats minors as a category of offenders separate from adults. More than half of all states authorize inclusion of DNA profiles collected from juveniles in their databanks. In contrast to the convention of sealing or erasing juvenile criminal records after a period of time--a practice grounded on a rehabilitative ideal--none of the statutes require states to remove juvenile DNA profiles from their databanks, and one (Arizona's) expressly prohibits their removal. Several states have revised their original legislation to cover juvenile offenders as well. The spread of DNA databanking to minors is especially troubling when considered against the racial inequities that plague the juvenile justice system. According to Vincent Schiraldi, president of the Center on Juvenile and Criminal Justice, "When you control for poverty, white and black [teens] commit the same amount of violent crime, [but] blacks are arrested at four times the rate of whites and imprisoned at seven times the rate of whites. So don't think for a second this databank will be race-neutral. This policy will grossly overrepresent criminal behavior by blacks and exacerbate disparities in incarceration because [databanks are] going to be used against people."
An indirect consequence of expanding DNA databanks is their partial coverage of a larger proportion of nonoffending relatives as well. Because individuals share portions of their DNA with biological relatives--half in the case of siblings, parents and children--an incomplete match between a databanked person's profile and that of a crime-scene sample might lead investigators to question an individual's immediate family. The effect of such profiling by proxy is that identifying information about nonoffenders is present in criminal databank systems as well; in effect, if you have a relative whose profile has been databanked, you're likely to be partially genetically frisked as well.
A critical unresolved question about current databanking practices concerns what law-enforcement agencies actually do with their frozen vials of human tissue. The human genome contains approximately 100,000 different genes, many of which are associated with specific illnesses. Though DNA profiles have few applications beyond linking individuals to biological specimens, the actual tissue samples submitted by offenders could in principle be analyzed for genetic traits ranging from sickle-cell anemia to schizophrenia. Since evolving typing techniques may one day outmode profiles currently being entered into computers, more than half of US states are authorized or required by law to archive their samples so they can be retested. This sustains the possibility that samples may eventually be used for purposes other than profiling.
Most statutes restrict sample use to "law enforcement"--a term whose broadness in this context can only be described as oceanic. Twenty states allow law-enforcement agencies to use samples for research on improving forensic techniques, which could mean searching banked DNA samples for genetic predictors of recidivism, pedophilia or aggression. One Massachusetts legislator publicly advocated such a use, and Tom Callaghan, program manager of the FBI's Federal Convicted Offender DNA Database, refused to rule out such a possibility when pressed at a National Institute of Justice Symposium in September 1999. Moreover, tissue repositories created by databanks would provide genetics researchers with congenial waters in which to trawl for genes thought to be involved in criminal behavior. Alabama's databanking law brushes perilously close to this by authorizing release of anonymous DNA population data collected by law-enforcement authorities to "assist in other humanitarian endeavors including, but not limited to, educational research or medical research or development."
Experimenting with offender DNA in this way would violate basic tenets of biomedical ethics by using tissues that were not obtained by consent for purposes that arguably run counter to the interests of the research subject. "If [law-enforcement authorities] want to do research," argues Boston University bioethicist George Annas, "they should follow the same rules everyone else has to follow in terms of informed consent and privacy.... Criminals have privacy rights like everyone else." As such, using databanked samples for research without consent also runs counter to recommendations by the American College of Medical Genetics.
Such research authorizations are especially troubling in light of this nation's checkered history of experimentation on prisoners. In 1875 social reformer and prison inspector Richard Dugdale wrote his famous study of the Jukes family after he noticed a disproportionate number of inmates with that last name. The availability of banked criminals' tissues may prove a valuable resource should society's interest in genetic explanations for social ills be renewed.
Legal challenges of DNA database laws have generally failed and are therefore unlikely to stem their widening sweep. Practices in Britain, the first country to enlist DNA in its crime-fighting cavalry, may portend dramatically widened use of databanking in the United States. Britain's Forensic Science Service is authorized to collect DNA samples from anyone questioned about or suspected of any offense for which a person could be detained. As of July 1999, England had collected 547,000 DNA samples; the effort was projected to reach 30 percent of British men eventually. In addition, England has conducted at least eighty "intelligence-based screens"--the official term for what is colloquially called a "genetic sweep"--in which the general population is asked to submit DNA samples to help police investigate a particular crime. Although samples are provided voluntarily, social pressures, heavy media coverage and the concern that failure to submit a sample may itself invoke police suspicion undermine the notion of submissions being truly consensual. Other countries, including Canada and Germany, have conducted similar sweeps, and while some argue that the Fourth Amendment would probably bar such practices in the United States, privacy watchdogs like New York Civil Liberties Union's executive director Norman Siegel caution that "Fourth Amendment challenges [of databanks] have not been successful; these are the only reference points we have [for predicting how courts will rule on genetic sweeps], and they're not promising."
The next battle between civil libertarians and law-enforcement authorities concerning DNA databanking is likely to concern the leap from profiling convicted felons to arrestees. Former NYPD chief Howard Safir has championed arrestee profiling, and US Attorney General Janet Reno has begun to explore the implications of such a policy by querying a National Institute of Justice commission. Arrestee profiling would dramatically broaden the reach of DNA databanking and, if not subject to careful restrictions, would empower law-enforcement authorities to arrest people for minor offenses, collect a tissue sample and search their databases for a match between the arrestee's profile and another crime-scene sample. Despite widespread enthusiasm in law-enforcement circles, profiling on such a scale isn't likely to be implemented anytime soon, given the backlog of tissue samples awaiting profile analysis and the high costs (at least $100 per sample). Nevertheless, one state (Louisiana) profiles arrestees for sexual offenses, and advancing automation technologies are likely to erode these fiscal barriers.
Though this is reason for despair among privacy advocates, there are a few hopeful signs among the various statutes. Twenty-seven states (and the federal government), for example, prohibit disclosure of genetic materials or information to unauthorized third parties. Wisconsin requires that law-enforcement authorities eliminate DNA samples of convicted persons after profiling is complete, and six states (Indiana, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Texas, Vermont and Wyoming) restrict what authorities can do with collected DNA by prohibiting analysis of genetic mutations that could predict a person's traits. But in an environment where the political leaders most likely to raise objections to such policies are often silenced by a fear of appearing to be soft on crime, the stability of these protections remains to be seen.
Imagining a fair and protective system for using DNA evidence in the criminal justice system isn't all that difficult. People claiming innocence should be given opportunities to volunteer DNA to clear their name. For them--and more broadly for the credibility of the criminal justice system--DNA forensic technology may be the only life vest within reach. Upon overturning a conviction, volunteered DNA samples and profiles should be promptly destroyed, preserving the individual's presumptive innocence. For people convicted of serious violent offenses and beyond the reach of such exculpatory evidence, however, the trade-off between privacy and public interest may tilt toward favoring a DNA databanking system with strong privacy protections, including sample destruction after profiling and prohibitions on uses other than comparing profiles with those collected from crime scenes. And finally, to protect the presumptive innocence of convicted offenders' family members, states should impose stringent requirements for when a match between a crime-scene sample and a databanked profile can trigger an investigation.
Privacy is a zero-sum entity: The extension of law-enforcement authorities' genetic gaze comes directly at the expense of an individual's power to withhold such information. Where most human DNA handling once occurred in medical clinics and research laboratories--institutions that are generally subject to public oversight and cautious (if imperfect) ethical review--DNA has now entered a territory not particularly distinguished for its ethical circumspection. States are not providing many reasons for the public to be confident that they are taking these concerns seriously; perhaps of even greater concern, negligence in protecting the privacy of offenders and criminal suspects may acclimate a public to weak protections of genetic materials. As the predictive powers of genetic technologies are refined, this could have grievous consequences for everyone.
Just how remote the capital-punishment rhetoric of this campaign is from reality is suggested by a ruling from the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit in the case of Calvin Burdine, who sits on death row in Huntsville, Texas. Burdine's court-appointed lawyer, Joe Cannon, slept through long stretches of his trial, a practice frequently ratified by Texas courts [see Bruce Shapiro, "Sleeping Lawyer Syndrome," April 7, 1997]. Federal District Judge David Hittner threw out Burdine's conviction, but on October 27 a Fifth Circuit appellate panel reinstated it. The two-judge majority--including Judge Edith Jones, a favorite Republican prospect for the Supreme Court--claimed that the record failed to show whether the lawyer's naps came during "critical" phases of the life-or-death proceeding. The panel's lone dissenter, Judge Fortunato Benavides, wrote that the circumstance of Burdine's trial "shocks the conscience."
Clearly, we need a national timeout on executions. Thirty-five cities nationwide--most recently Greensboro and five other municipalities in conservative North Carolina--have endorsed such a moratorium. As legal scholar Anthony Amsterdam said in October in his keynote address to the American Bar Association's annual convention, the system is "fatally unjust and prone to error." And that also applies to the federal court system, in which a recent study showed widespread racial bias in death sentences. The first federal execution since the Kennedy years is set for December unless President Clinton intervenes, as he certainly should. Senators Carl Levin and Russ Feingold and Representative Jesse Jackson Jr. have introduced legislation that, in varying ways, would put executions on hold. Their bills deserve vigorous support.
A postscript to the Bush-Gore deterrence theory: According to the FBI's Uniform Crime Reports, released in October, while violent crime is declining nationwide, it is up in the execution capital of the country, Texas.
In their 1996 book The Next War, former Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger and Peter Schweitzer concoct some troubling scenarios they imagine could confront the United States. One is with Mexico: It's 1999, and a radical nationalist comes to power with the assistance of drug traffickers, resulting in a flood of migrants and drugs across the US boundary. In response, the Pentagon sends 60,000 troops to the border region. Tensions between the two countries mount over the next few years, leading to a full-scale US invasion of Mexico that restores law and order within six months. In constructing this nightmare scenario, the authors draw on a long history of depicting undesired immigrants as invading hordes and the international boundary as a line of defense. Peter Andreas recounts this hawkish vision in his provocative and highly persuasive Border Games: Policing the US-Mexico Divide. He argues that predictions of an inevitable march toward greater levels of militarization in the region--of which the Weinberger/Schweitzer vision is the most extreme--ignore the necessity of maintaining a porous boundary because of the significant and intensifying levels of economic integration between the United States and Mexico.
Still, as part of the US government's war on drugs and "illegal" immigrants in the border region, the enforcement regime has grown dramatically over the past two decades, as chronicled by Andreas. The antidrug budget of the Immigration and Naturalization Service, for example, rose 164 percent between fiscal years 1990 and 1997, while the overall budget for the INS nearly tripled between FY 1993 and 1999, from $1.5 billion to $4.2 billion, with border enforcement the biggest growth area. At the same time, transboundary trade has reached unprecedented heights because of the 1994 implementation of NAFTA. This exacerbates the challenge of "enforcement." As a 1999 government report cautioned, "Rapidly growing commerce between the United States and Mexico will complicate our efforts to keep drugs out of cross-border traffic." With a daily average of 220,000 vehicles now crossing into the United States from Mexico--and only nine large tractor-trailers loaded with cocaine required to satisfy annual domestic demand in the United States--the task facing US authorities is daunting.
Given such practical contradictions, it's the creation of an image of boundary control that has been most significant. As Andreas explains--and this is his well-written book's central point--the escalation of border enforcement is less about deterring drugs and migrants than it is about symbolism. In other words, state elites are more concerned about giving a good performance for reasons of domestic political consumption than they are about realizing the stated goals of boundary enforcement. In fact, the political-economic costs of too much success serve to limit enforcement. As one high-level US Customs official cited in Border Games stated, "If we examined every truck for narcotics arriving into the United States along the Southwest border.... Customs would back up the truck traffic bumper-to-bumper into Mexico City in just two weeks--15.8 days.... That's 1,177 miles of trucks, end to end."
To the extent that there is an appearance of success, however (statistics showing more interdiction, for example), it helps to realize a variety of political agendas. As Andreas contends, "Regardless of its deterrent effect, the escalation of enforcement efforts has helped to fend off political attacks and kept the drug issue from derailing the broader process of economic integration."
Thus, in the case of NAFTA, the deceptive image (one carefully crafted with the Clinton White House) that Mexico under Carlos Salinas de Gortari was having significant success in the binational war on drugs facilitated a reluctant Congress's passage of NAFTA. Moreover, the Administration promised that NAFTA would bring even greater levels of transboundary cooperation in the drug war and lead to more resources for boundary enforcement.
NAFTA also intertwined with the Administration's offensive against unauthorized immigration (a matter Andreas does not discuss), which was, in part, the US answer to massive disruption in Mexico's rural and small-business sectors brought about by growing economic liberalization. While Administration officials promoted NAFTA as a boundary-control tool (by creating better, high-paying jobs in Mexico, went the argument, NAFTA would lead to less immigration from Mexico to the United States), they also understood that NAFTA would intensify pressures to migrate among Mexicans displaced in the name of economic efficiency. As INS Commissioner Doris Meissner argued to Congress in November 1993, "Responding to the likely short- to medium-term impacts of NAFTA will require strengthening our enforcement efforts along the border."
For Andreas, specific developments are often the "unintended feedback effects of past policy choices" as much as the result of particular bureaucratic incentives and rewards. The 1986 Immigration Reform and Control Act (IRCA), for example, led to the legalization of large numbers of unauthorized immigrants as a way of ultimately reducing unsanctioned immigration. IRCA's main effect, however, was "to reinforce and expand already well-established cross-border migration networks" and to create a booming business in fraudulent documents.
These "perverse consequences" laid the foundation for the anti-immigrant backlash that emerged in the early 1990s--most vociferously in California, a state especially hard hit by the recession and feeling the effects of a rapidly changing population due to immigration. In advancing this argument, Andreas cautions that his goal is "not to provide a general explanation of the anti-illegal immigration backlash." Rather, he seeks to show how political and bureaucratic entrepreneurs partially whipped up public sentiment and channeled it "to focus on the border as both the source of the problem and the most appropriate site of the policy solution." While there is much merit in such an approach and the explanation that flows from it, it is insufficient.
First, as many have argued, the backlash of the 1990s was not simply against "illegal" immigrants but, to a large degree, against immigrants in general--especially the nonwhite, non-English speaking and the relatively poor. Moreover, as Andreas shows in a stimulating chapter that compares and contrasts similar developments along the Germany/Poland and Spain/Morocco boundaries, the seeming paradox of "a borderless economy and a barricaded border" is evidenced along boundaries that unite and divide rich and poor in other parts of the world. Given the locales of these developments and their uneven impacts on different social groups, there is need for another type of explanation.
How does one explain the differential treatment of the interests of the rich (enhanced trading opportunities) and those of the poor (those compelled by conditions to migrate and work without authorization)? It is in this area that Grace Chang is of great help. Disposable Domestics offers a refreshingly new perspective on immigration control. Chang's tone is overtly political and more polemical than that of Andreas, but her approach is equally rigorous. Her goal is to make poor immigrant women visible, to humanize them, to highlight their contributions and tribulations, and to show them as actively trying to contest their conditions of subjugation.
Chang argues persuasively that poor immigrant women--largely Third Worlders--have become a central focus of "public scrutiny and media distortion, and the main targets of immigration regulation and labor control" in the United States. To show the continuity between past and present, she provides an overview of the long history of imagery portraying immigrant women as undeserving users of welfare services and hyperfertile breeders of children. In doing so, she makes an invaluable contribution, showing how the regulation of immigration and labor is inextricably tied to matters of gender, as well as to those of class, race and nationality.
The author effectively challenges mainstream assumptions that surround the immigration debate. For example, she argues that studies attempting to measure the costs and benefits of immigration--regardless of their findings or the agendas behind them--ultimately reduce immigrants to commodities or investments. Chang sides with an emerging consensus among immigrant advocates that sees such studies as missing the point, and instead emphasizes the human and worker rights of all immigrants. In this regard, she criticizes immigrant advocates who have fallen into the trap of dividing immigrants between good ("legal") and bad ("illegal").
Chang highlights the folly of this approach in recounting the trials of Zoë Baird, Clinton's first nominee for Attorney General. When it came to light that she employed two undocumented immigrants as domestic servants--a common "crime" among two-career, professional couples--her nomination was sunk. What led to public outrage, according to Chang, was more the "resentment that this practice was so easily accessible to the more privileged classes while other working-class mothers struggled to find any child care," rather than the flouting of the law per se.
Throughout, Chang gives us moving accounts of gross exploitation of immigrant women working as domestics or caretakers, showing that relatively well-off households often look specifically for "illegals" to save money and to facilitate their privileged lives. Indeed, "the advances of many middle-class white women in the workforce have been largely predicated on the exploitation of poor, immigrant women." For Chang, this explains why "the major women's groups were conspicuously silent during Baird's confirmation hearings"--a manifestation of the racial and class privileges their members enjoy.
Recent antiwelfare efforts in the United States, which Chang explores in another provocative chapter, also rely on the exploitation and scapegoating of immigrant women. She compares representations of poor women--native and immigrant--used both in the promotion of welfare "reform" and in efforts to regulate undocumented working women. In both cases, poor women are portrayed as exploiters of the system (to facilitate their hyperfertility) and as criminals--either as welfare cheats or as "illegals." For welfare mothers, the resulting backlash is "workfare"--a program that forces them to work (outside their homes, under the assumption that raising children is neither work nor a benefit to society), but not for a wage. They work for their welfare benefits instead, a remuneration usually far below what they would earn as employees. Meanwhile, government officials, corporate spokespersons and household employers mask their exploitation of low-wage employees as beneficence, purportedly providing them with opportunities, training and preparation, and the ability to assimilate into respectable society.
The war on the poor (welfare reform) and that against unauthorized immigrants are also sometimes functionally tied. Virginia's state office of social services, for example, cooperated with the INS to open up jobs held by "illegals" for workfare participants. This, along with INS raids of workplaces in the midst of unionization drives, according to Chang, is a growing trend. It is far from clear, however--at least on the basis of the anecdotal evidence Chang presents--that such events indicate a long-term, upward trend. Indeed, while anti-union employers have long used the INS to undermine immigrant-worker organizing, with a number of especially outrageous incidents taking place in the late 1990s, those appear to have diminished over the last couple of years, apparently due to the outcry from union, immigration and human rights activists. In part, the discrepancy reflects the fact that Chang wrote the book--more a collection of essays stitched together--over several years, with some of the chapters having appeared in previous publications.
Chang tends to see the factors that create and drive immigration and the mistreatment of low-wage immigrant workers as derivative of an overarching economic logic and a resulting set of intentional, goal-oriented practices. Thus, the workfare/INS-raid nexus illustrates the "true function" of the INS: "to regulate the movement, availability, and independence of migrant labor." More generally, immigration "is carefully orchestrated--that is, desired, planned, compelled, managed, accelerated, slowed and periodically stopped--by the direct actions of US interests, including the government as state and as employer, private employers, and corporations." United States elites keep Mexico and other countries in "debt bondage" so that they "must surrender their citizens, especially women, as migrant laborers to First World nations." And the purpose of California's Proposition 187, which would have eliminated public health, education and social services for unauthorized immigrants, is "perhaps" to mold immigrant children into a "category entirely of super-exploitable workers--those with no access to language or other skills and, most of all, no access to a status even remotely resembling citizenship that might allow them the safety to organize."
Such contentions imply a level of unity within the state and coherency in thought among economic and political actors (who are seemingly one and the same) that simply do not exist. They also downplay the agency of immigrants--who appear to be mere pawns of larger forces--and factors internal to their countries of origin driving immigration. Finally, such economic reductionism is puzzling given Chang's emphasis on race, gender and nationality. It seems at times, however, that she thinks that these are mere tools for highly rational, all-knowing and all-powerful economic elites.
This is why we need to appreciate the autonomous roles of race-, class-, gender- and nation-based ideologies in informing much of the anti-immigrant sentiment--factors that do not always dovetail with the interests of capital. Indeed, those elements are frequently at cross purposes. More than anything, anti-immigrant initiatives over the past thirty years have been the work of opportunistic and/or entrepreneurial elected officials, state bureaucrats and the cultural right--often small grassroots organizations and right-wing think tanks--rather than the business sector. Historically, capital has been generally pro-immigration. As the New York Journal of Commerce gushed in 1892, "Men, like cows, are expensive to raise and a gift of either should be gladly received. And a man can be put to more valuable use than a cow." Today, the Wall Street Journal advocates the elimination of border controls for labor. While this probably does not represent the view of most capitalists, it is significant nonetheless. And in the case of Proposition 187--as Chang reports--California employers, while collectively failing to take a public stand on the measure, generally opposed it for fear that they had much to lose if it passed. That said, the author is undoubtedly right to castigate employers for doing little or nothing to stand up for the rights of immigrants from whose labor, and from whose politically induced marginalization, they profit.
Given the divergent emphases and approaches of Andreas and Chang, very different solutions emerge from their arguments. Andreas criticizes the overemphasis on the supply side of unauthorized immigration and drugs. In terms of immigrants, for example, he observes that among wealthy countries, the United States "imposes the toughest penalties on the smuggling of migrants and related activities yet is among the most lenient with those who employ them." Similarly, he criticizes the scant resources available for enforcing existing workplace rules, which would undermine the ability of employers to exploit unauthorized workers, and he chides Congress for failing to develop a forgery-proof identity card system. (His stand on continued drug policing in the border region is less clear, although he calls for framing the drug problem as one of public health rather than law enforcement.)
Andreas seems resigned to the continued emphasis on border controls, too, despite demonstrating their brilliant failure. As one INS official he quotes explained, "The border is easy money politically. But the interior is a political minefield." Ending the border buildup is also a political minefield--one Andreas seems unwilling to enter. He is decidedly critical of the border status quo and aware of the hardships it causes (a topic to which he gives insufficient attention), but he critiques it on its own terms. In this regard, he does not stray outside the mainstream confines of debate.
A law-enforcement approach to unauthorized immigration is destined to fail. The ties between the United States and Mexico (and increasingly much of Latin America) are too strong, migrants are too resourceful and creative, and Americans are too resistant to the types of police-state measures that would prove necessary, to reduce unsanctioned immigration significantly. A far more effective and humane approach would be to work with progressive sectors of Third World societies to address the breakdown of political, economic and social systems and/or institutionalized injustice that often leads to immigration.
De-emphasizing boundary policing will likely reduce the deaths of unauthorized migrants (almost 600 in the California border region alone since 1994). But increased internal enforcement will create other difficulties, such as increased discrimination against those who do not look "American." It will also cause greater hardships in immigrant households, many of which contain people of different legal statuses. Should the US deport a principal breadwinner (an "illegal") from such a household, for example, leaving behind his or her US citizen children and "legal" spouse to fend for themselves?
Although Andreas argues that "the state has actually structured, conditioned, and even enabled (often unintentionally) clandestine border crossings," he discusses this matter in narrow terms, focusing on how previous "solutions" to the putative problems had an exacerbating effect. Meanwhile, he neglects the role played by the government and US-based economic interests in creating the conditions that fuel immigration. Thus, no issues of moral or political responsibility enter the analysis.
Grace Chang, on the other hand, puts a strong emphasis on the responsibility of the United States in fueling outmigration; it benefits from immigrant women's labor and wreaks havoc in Third World countries through the likes of military interventions and the imposition of structural adjustment programs. For Chang, the question is not one of trying to devise the best policy to control the unauthorized but of bringing about the changes needed to realize the rights of immigrants as workers and as human beings. In making this case, Chang correctly calls upon those of us who benefit from an unjust world order to stand in solidarity with immigrants--especially low-wage, Third World women who enable our privileged lifestyles--in their struggle for social justice at home and abroad.
The judge who chided Bush over aid to children is part of a state tradition.
The proposal would reduce sentences for nonviolent drug traffickers by about a year.
March 13, 2014
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Hunger strikers at Northwest Detention Center in Washington are demanding better prison conditions and an end to deportations.
March 11, 2014
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Produced by Alex Gibney and Robert Redford with narration by Susan Sarandon.
March 5, 2014
The unlikely allies are leading a push to reform sentencing guidelines for nonviolent drug offenders.
March 4, 2014 | dclm-gs1-011460000 |
Jamaican Dancehall Deejay Arrested in Multimillion-Dollar Lottery Scam
Tommy Lee Sparta was arrested Friday in Montego Bay.
Tommy Lee Sparta
Tommy Lee Sparta
Tommy Lee Sparta reportedly was serving up more than crazy dancehall beats and rude riddims.
The popular Jamaican dancehall deejay was arrested Friday for his alleged involvement in a multimillion-dollar lottery scheme that targeted mostly elderly Americans, the Associated Press reports.
Details are still emerging about the crime and the extent of it. And a lawyer representing Sparta told the AP that a court date has not been set for his client and four others who were arrested with him.
But here is what police do know: The victims were reportedly coaxed into sending money to cover taxes after being told that they won millions in an international lottery, the article says. Those who fell for the scam were repeatedly harassed for money. Lists of names and addresses of U.S. citizens were recovered from a house where the arrests occurred, the report says.
Sparta, whose given name is Leroy Russell, resides in Montego Bay, which police claim served as the headquarters for the scam. The investigation continues.
Read more at the Associated Press. | dclm-gs1-011470000 |
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Ironically she turns out to be a size queen… whodathunkit?
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Alcohol linked to stairwell death
Times Series: Lynne Spalding was found dead in the stairwell of a San Francisco hospital 17 days after she was reported missing Lynne Spalding was found dead in the stairwell of a San Francisco hospital 17 days after she was reported missing
The death of a British woman whose body was found in a hospital stairwell in America weeks after going missing was linked to chronic alcohol abuse, a coroner has reported.
Lynne Spalding, 57, disappeared from her room at San Francisco General Hospital on September 21.
She was found in the locked stairwell by a member of the hospital's engineering staff during a routine check 17 days after she vanished.
San Francisco assistant medical examiner Ellen Moffat said in a new report that Ms Spalding probably died of a chemical imbalance due to complications from chronic alcohol abuse.
The mother-of-two, who had lived in the US for 23 years, had been dead for days before being discovered.
The notes add that Ms Spalding, originally from Peterlee, Co Durham, was confused and delirious on the day she disappeared, not aware of what day it was or why she was in hospital.
Several employees with the city sheriff's department, which provides hospital security, were reassigned after Sheriff Ross Mirkarimi acknowledged that a thorough search for Ms Spalding was never conducted, the Associated Press said.
Earlier this year San Francisco mayor Ed Lee announced an independent consultant will investigate the hospital's security and patient safety protocols.
"This should not have happened, we all agree," Mr Lee said. "And we want to prevent it from ever happening again."
There is a separate police inquiry into Ms Spalding's death and an internal investigation of hospital security measures by San Francisco sheriff's department.
"A thorough independent review is required, and we will do that," Mr Lee said. "The city is responsible for what happened here."
Ms Spalding's friends and relatives spent days scouring the streets of the Californian city with flyers because they were "under the assumption that San Francisco General had been searched and Lynne was not here".
Speaking after her discovery, family spokesman David Perry said Ms Spalding, a marketing and sales expert, had retained her British accent, which was "thick enough to peel the paint off a ship".
"She was the very best of England and the United States combined," he said.
"Her loss will be felt greatly, not only in her family but across San Francisco because everyone knew Lynne Spalding here."
Ms Spalding arrived at the hospital thin and frail with her children worried about her condition.
She was admitted for a bladder or urinary tract infection on September 19 and was reported missing from her room two days later.
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Hulk Wedding Photog on Video:
'I'm Carrying a Gun'
12/16/2010 1:15 PM PST BY TMZ STAFF
In what may be the biggest bonehead move of 2010, the photographer who threatened one of Hulk Hogan's friends with a gun during Hulk's wedding actually videotaped the entire incident ... and we got the tape.
It all went down on Tuesday in Clearwater, Florida -- when the pap tried to shoot video of the nuptials.
Listen to the tape -- you hear the photog tell someone in the wedding party, "You're in my space and I'm carrying a gun."
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When someone tells you not to take their picture you need to kindly move on. If you insist on taking someone's picture without their consent you deserve whatever trouble you get.
Right to privacy is more important than freedom of speech.
Argue it all you want, it all comes down to what is decent. How shall we regard eachother? Shall we be decent toward one another or shall we assault each other freely?
He was asked not to take photos, he deserves to be thrown in jail. The law of the land needs to catch up with the times.
Right to privacy on public property should be a law when encountered by paps. Selling your intellectual property should not be legal without consent, regardless of where you are in the United States, public land or not.
For now it's up to the cop on the scene, if he was asked not to take the picture but kept doing it, they can nab him with harressament. He should be in jail for assault.
1183 days ago
So a photographer doing work to be sold to TMZ broke the law by trespassing, lied about having a gun, assaulted a security person, lied to the police (erasing tape, I said "what if I had a gun"), etc. Yet TMZ still bought and published the tape. Come on TMZ, you owe Hulk Hogan a big apology and should promise your readers you won't hire this knucklehead poor excuse for a photog again!
1183 days ago
This story is getting old...
1183 days ago
Clearwater, Florida?? does that mean Hulk's a scientologist?
1183 days ago
how do you know that TMZ bought the film from the photographer and didn't get it through a leak in the police dept? Seems to me that the pap would not want this video out there, because it shows him clearly in the wrong.
1183 days ago
We're not free men if we can't practice our most sacred rituals without being accosted, assaulted or harrassed by passer-bys. We should allow our neighbors a right to practice their religious beliefs openly in public spaces without interfering as long as those practices do not disrupt our daily routine.
Hulk Hogan and his family has a right to practice religion, has a right to security and has a right to privacy. All of this rights should be protected by the state and when possible by federal authorities.
The pap is not creating an inspired artwork but instead is stealing an image of someone else. Many of us every day snap up photos of strangers, it's commonly accepted to capture an imagie of someone we don't know as they pass into our photos. This pap did something different.
This pap intended to use the image of a celebrity without the celebrites consent to gain money. It needs to be illegal.
The pap is abusing a loophole in our constitution to assault celebrities.
If celebrities cannot enter into public domain in the United States those celebrities will chose to live elsewhere.
The government of the USA needs to make adaptation to her laws to protect it's citzens from mis-use of current techonological trends.
1183 days ago
If you read the police report you would know the police gave the tape back to the pap and was told to erase it.
1183 days ago
Bob Loblaw
What a s***bag. These guys are the worst. They could get all the clips they need at the appropriate venues, but it's much more profitable to catch people off-guard, crowd them so they fall, or push them just enough to have them flip-the-****-out... all on video.
I'm all for enacting a law to be able to punch them right in the face on sight.
1183 days ago
He's not a Scientologist, but he does belong to a similar group. It is some sort of new age church where the preacher is one of the main contributors to "The Secret", that book everyone is going crazy over since it tells everyone all you have to do is wish for something and it will come true.
1183 days ago
Hey brothers. You need to leave the Hulkster alone. He was my best man and I love him. He is tall, sexxxy, and hairless.
Bubba the Love Sponge
PS Heather, get me a towel, I made a mess.
1183 days ago
Can't walk up to someone in the street and slap them in the face, taking their picture is the same thing. Five years from now the laws will all change, it's just a matter of when. Could be sooner.
Are celebrities different than the rest of us? Are they given seperate accomidations? Are celebrities better people than the others in the United States?
No they are not at all.
Currently there are no laws in place that allow celebrities to walk freely among us without suffering from photographers. Authorities make special adjustments to hold back photographers. These special adjustments are only used because of a fault in the constitution, a fault that has not been amended. The current state of techonology has allowed for new threats against the citizens of the USA.
These are my theories, thank you for letting me share them with you. I do so freely out of a hope that someone other than myself, with more strength, pursues these theories into fruition.
1183 days ago
if it looks like a smeghead and acts like a smeghead then it's a smeghead
1183 days ago
Ronald RayGun
He might be carrying a gun but it's on only 2 inches long!
1183 days ago
Unless the s***bag had a Florida or reciprocal concealed carry permit he should be in jail. Carry without a license is illegal in Florida. Jail him and throw the keys away. It's s*** like him that will ultimately cost all of us our Second Amendment rights.
1183 days ago
1183 days ago
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Gwyneth Paltrow
Triggers Racial Controversy
after Using N-Word
breaking news
No Avatar
648 days ago
Um, don't put it in the title of a song if you don't want people saying.
648 days ago
I'm A Lawyer
As usual, people making a big deal out of nothing. It's the name of the damn song.
648 days ago
Guys call women b*tches all the time. So what's the difference between that and a white woman using the n word?
648 days ago
Typical backwards racism. Black rappers use the word "******" or "*****" in their music all the time. Samuel L Jackson used it no less than 4 times in an interview with BET. But...If just ONE white person says it (or Tweets it...)....*****s be gettin all uppity.
648 days ago
Not one ounce of talent between them. Paltrow has a better singing voice than either one of those clowns.
648 days ago
It is title of the song. Don't like it don't follow her!!
648 days ago
oh...and "Thanks TMZ" for the's try another word... "Cracker"
648 days ago
Gwyneth tweeted the name of the song that was playing at the concert she attended -- with the wife of the rapper!!! She didn't call anyone that. Is she not allowed to post the names of songs????
This is beyond made up controversy. First MTO, now you guys. Ridiculous.
648 days ago
Can we all just agree that the "n" word is offensive, regardless of who's using it? I'd like to see it retired from the English language. As for Gwyneth, there are few things more pathetic than some blue-blooded, blonde, rich beeyotch trying to gain "street cred" by using the word.
648 days ago
don't want people saying the n word? don't put it in the title of a song. wow that people were upset by that is a bad, bad sign.
648 days ago
How bout that..."Cracker" seems to avoid the TMZ censor. As a "white guy" I find that word offensive. That one...and "Clowns"....and "Asparagus"
648 days ago
I refuse to vote based solely on the fact that TMZ refuses to stop using the term "African American". When it became a crime to say the word black, I will never know. SMDH.
648 days ago
blacks want to throw that word around non stop. they use it in almost every rap song. i am white. when i talk to blacks at work, i will comment on rap lyrics, say a joke, repeat an incident on the train - all which include the N word. They have NO PROBLEM with it. Only the news media does,so they can get people to watch their shows or sell their papers. Oh, and Jesse Jackson has a problem with the word, he wants it outlawed, but he was caught on tape saying it against Obama. Please
648 days ago
People just need to get over themselves. What was she suppose to write...African-American's in Paris. Just doesn't have the same flow. Lol.
648 days ago
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Photog's Last Call
He Absolutely Believed
Justin Was Smoking [AUDIO]
No Avatar
brian rounds
Justin is in NO way to blame for this. The pap should not have been stalking, who he thought was Justin. Justin is due his privicy like everone else. I think Miley said it best when she said wasn't Princess Di enough.
435 days ago
TMZ come on now.. Who cares if JB is smoking weed or not, he is not 5 for Goodness sake.. Focus on the person that died.. How can this guy blame someone who wasn't there? he is ok.. Even if he was there, he still didn't hit him so its not his fault
435 days ago
Yea keep dreaming buddy your friend should have watched where he was going and the person that hit him would not start out the new year feeling bad. STFU!
435 days ago
This is ridiculous! Justin was in no way involved with the death of the photographer. Was it Justins fault that he crossed the street without looking? No! Didn't your mother always tell you to never cross the street without looking? The paps dont HAVE to follow him around and stalk his every move. But hey, its not my problem. And all the rumors about Justin smoking pot? Its bull****. I do not personally know Justin, but these rumors are just stupid. Out of anyone Justin would never EVER do pot. He is one of the best influences in the music industry. He is a very faithful man and knows to stay grounded. Everyone needs to understand that trying to blame an amazing, talented, and down to earth kid for doing pot and blaming him for a death is just ridiculous. Stop with all of the drama. Stop with all of the rumors. None of its true unless confirmed.
435 days ago
Harvey has been making loads of money off these pap/stalker pictures,his TV show,his appearances on the various TV news outlets as well as the cash cow tour vans that hold up traffic all over the sunset strip/Beverly Hills areas,yet he plays camera shy when its turned on him? Hypocrisy at its highest level,so much they should have the little worms picture next to the word in Websters!
I was a fan of the original TMZ platform and have watched it decline into just another douchebag webpage collecting hits with bullcrap stories that are far beyond "the 30 mile zone". thats made Mr.Levin more wealthy than he already was,and taken what small of amount of moral character he had back in his peoples court days away. its sd but true!!
435 days ago
As for Miley Cyrus' comments, he says, "Good Christians that I know ... don't throw stones at people who get killed." .......
................Good Christians don't blame other people for their own mistakes or their friend's mistakes. There is no one to blame except the person that wasn't paying attention while walking across a busy road. Happens everyday across America. People think the cars will stop for them when they walk across the road. Sorry but not everyone is expecting someone to walk illegally across the road that is why we have cross walks. RIP young man. I hope others learn from your mistake.
435 days ago
That makes no sense. It's partly Justin's fault because of rumors that he does weed? He doesn't control the rumors. If the pap believed these rumors, then that's his fault, not Justin's. And reckless driving? The 'reckless driving' is in response to being chased by paps! How does his apparent reckless driving have anything to do with the paps death?! Anyway, it doesn't matter what his job was or whose fault it was, it was still a life. As Justin said, condolences to the family and friends. I hope this prevents similar things happening in the future. My thoughts are also with the poor driver who hit him.
435 days ago
Justin is not the least bit responsible for this paparazzi's death. The guy was not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He doesn't even know enough to look both ways before crossing the street? Not surprised another pap is sticking up for his friend, but his comments are ridiculous.
435 days ago
The friend's overwhelming grief obviously makes it impossible for him to think clearly.
As an LA resident, I can plainly state that this accident was waiting to happen to any pedestrian on that road [which has no sidewalks.] Sepulveda is a winding row that parallels the 405 freeway. People tend to drive way too fast on Sepulveda as they pace themselves to the cars on the fwy that are doing 65.
RIP young man Too bad you never got the chance to seek a real job
435 days ago
Who cares if he was smoking pot, who freaking cares but the pap thought it was a great story and look at what happened to him can't blame anyone except the deceased sorry
435 days ago
Feel bad that the guy got killed but he's 100% to blame for his own death.
435 days ago
So if I run across the street (without looking) to get a doughnut and get hit my family can sue Krispy Kreme? I think not! Same rules apply. The negligent party died of his own faults.... Not obeying the common sense to look both ways pays a horrible price. His death was his own fault.
435 days ago
"He also says he believes Justin is partly to blame for Chris' death because of the singer's reckless driving history and alleged pot smoking which made it a big story to follow."
Seriously? Who cares if Bieber was smoking pot or smoking crack. Was it really worth the paps life. I feel bad for the paps family but this is all on the pap not bieber. Bieber will probably be a footnote in pop history in a matter of a couple of years but this pap will be gone for good. Hope it was worth it.
435 days ago
tampa mama
The risk you take being a papparatzzi...100% his fault. Who cares if. Justin was smoking pot?!
435 days ago
It's really quite simple. This was a GROWN man running around in traffic who got hit and killed. Totally his own fault, sad but true.
435 days ago
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Old October 7 2013, 05:00 PM #3
Basill's Avatar
Location: TN
Re: Star Trek: TMP questions and observations
I think WarpFactorZ touched on these quite well, but I thought I would add a little to the last 3 questions.
Gotham Central wrote: View Post
4) Why does V'ger fire torpodes on both the Klingons and the Enterprise, but seems to simply "eat" or disolve Epsilon IX?
It was certainly less dramatic, but I believe they were hit with the same methodology. Since the Enterprise crew was watching by broadcast on the Rec Deck, we missed the initial "pow," though the bright light and intense shadows of the "torpedo" are seen just as Kirk orders "External view!" and everyone is a aghast. Everything switches to the "real time" event at that point, but the station is already in plop-fizz mode. Epsilon IX station was probably a bit larger than the Klingons and thus took a little longer to reduce to data patterns as well, so it does appear to be a long dissolving process. (What gets me is that after both the Klingons and Epsilon IX are gone... the cloud it still visible in observing view screens. Must be that Quad L-14 sensor drone working overtime.
5) Given all of the rereleases of older material with new edits, do we know what is considered "canon" about these movies? For instance...was V'ger's cloud REALLY 82 AUs or was it a mere 3 (which is still enormous...Earth should have been engulfed in the cloud long before V'ger arrived in orbit).
Uhura was able to receive faint Starfleet signals as V-Ger closed in, and there is direct dialogue referring to the slowing and dissipation of the cloud (rapidly no less) as it approached Earth. While I don't like all the changes done to the Directors cut, (computer voices and other dialogue cuts; major scene editing for pacing) I personally am a fan of the reduction of the cloud diameter from 82 to 2 AUs.
6) This is more of a trektech nitpick but it seems reasonable to point out....V'ger obviously has some form of FTL propulsion in order for it to cross the vastness of space. Indeed it arrives in Earth orbit from Klingon space in mere days. Yet oddly enough, both the Klingons and the Enterprise approach V'ger at impulse. How are they not getting "run over."
I've always seen this as the Enterprise circling around the behemoth cloud and approaching it from behind. Considering the Enterprise pierces the last of the cloud only to close in on V'Ger's aft section, this seems to be supported. Now this may have been intended or a direct result of the wormhole deviation, but they are under warp power at the very least until they've entered the cloud boundary. The cloud was unquestionably an energy field, and there is some nice dialogue available on only certain versions of the film that indicate the object at the heart of the cloud is generating more energy than Earth's sun. Possibly the kind of power necessary for all of V'Ger's functions and the propulsion of such an enormous vehicle at FTL speeds. The cloud itself may have just been trapped galactic riffraff energized and ionized by V'Ger's form of warp propulsion. Then again, it might have been far more complex and utilitarian. Still, after Enterprise broached the barrier, they might have be within the intruder's propulsive influence, perhaps even taken along for the ride before piercing the veil at the heart of the cloud.
"As they say, life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." -Art Linkletter
Visit my Trek Art blog at:
Basill is offline Reply With Quote | dclm-gs1-011530000 |
Huh? Go to a dealer and NOT be charged a cent? What is this sorcery? Oh wait, it's just what comes with any new Subie. As my dealer, Pacific Subaru, explained during my 7500-mile visit, my first four services are completely free (at least, here in California). That means 30,000 miles of no-cost maintenance. Brilliant. My two previous long-term vehicles – our 2011 Nissan Juke and 2013 Mazda CX-5 -- didn't come with such a great offer.
I've visited two dealerships for my scheduled services so far. On both 7500-mile intervals, six quarts of 0W-20 synthetic oil, a fresh oil filter, and an inspection and refill of all fluids and tire pressures were required. The 15k stop added a tire rotation and an interior cabin filter replacement. Yes, if you're wondering, synthetic lube is required for the Forester's non-turbo (like mine) and turbo 2.5-liter boxer engines.
I've come to truly appreciate my Forester's versatility these past few months. One occasion in particular stands out: It was my 6-year-old niece's birthday and we had a party to prep. My girlfriend and I shoved a good amount of supplies, pizza, and gifts inside the Forester's 31.5 cubic feet (34.4 cubic feet without a moonroof) trunk, drove up a rocky mess of an access road to get to the party site, somehow spilled fruit juice all over the cargo area's extremely useful rubber mat (which we later simply scrubbed and hosed off), then post-party, stuffed everything back inside the trunk and drove back down the rocky path. At the end of the day we had two new passengers in the second row, who, by their accounts, were completely comfortable. One event, multiple scenarios, random terrains, and diverse cargo loads. The Forester performed like a champ.
Fuel economy has been of championship caliber as well. Seeing more than 400 miles per tank at 30-plus mpg combined is a smile-inducing, bank account-padding experience. Regular grade is all it needs, which makes filling up an even better proposition. Admittedly (and unfortunately, I must add), the Forester has rolled atop miles and miles of straight, smooth highways. Cultivating impressive single-tank ranges on these roads is as easy as toggling a few switches on the steering wheel and letting EyeSight, the adaptive cruise control, do its thing.
EyeSight has its ups and downs. The ups: It's a decent camera-based system that dutifully tells me when I'm out of my lane with a beep and flash of an indicator light on the dash. Its twin cameras are the "eyes" that judge the appropriate distances I should keep from the car ahead when using the adaptive cruise control. Get too close and it applies the brakes. Get too far away from a bumper ahead of me and it gives the Forester more gas. Aside from the cruise control, it also is a pre-collision braking system, which is always a plus.
The bads: Well, it doesn't like direct sunlight, and usually flashes errors and sounds alarms indicating that it's not functioning properly. In this case, the cruise control function will work, but the adaptive part of the equation won't. I've found that EyeSight is slow to react when traffic moves in and out beyond my nose. I haven't needed the pre-collision warning/braking while EyeSight was being finicky on account of the sunshine, so I can't describe with firsthand experience its reaction in such a circumstance.
Other items that have me shaking my head include a hyper-sensitive throttle and a painfully slow power rear hatch. The throttle is one of the touchiest my right foot has ever rested upon. That isn't to say our 2014 SUV of the Year isn't safe or unpredictable. But at the slightest of toe-ins -- a mere millimeter or two of provocation -- the Forester jumps forward, usually throwing my passengers' heads back. It's annoying. The hatch is just plain slow. I don't need a turbocharged liftgate, but when I find myself opening the rear door, folding the seats down, then loading the cargo area quicker than it takes the gate to swing open, I know for sure the power gate is a slug.
For a CUV that's equipped to the nines for soft-roading with all-wheel drive, 17-inch all-season tires, roof racks, and rubber mats, I'm OK with jumping into my Forester after a long day and sitting in some notorious L.A. traffic. It's a comfortable, quiet, cushy cocoon (save for that damn throttle). The goods, so far, outweigh any bads. And I'm loving it.
Our Car
Service life 5 mo/7990 mi
Average fuel economy 25.0 mpg
CO2 emissions 0.78 lb/mi
EPA City/Hwy/Comb Fuel Econ 23/28/25 mpg
Energy consumption 135 kW-hrs/100mi
Unresolved problems None
Maintenance cost $0 (oil change)
Normal-wear cost $0 | dclm-gs1-011540000 |
Patrick: I need to fight.
Theresa: You need to or you want to?
Patrick: Both.
I don't trust you. Not anymore.
Patrick [to Johnny]
[to Patrick] And who's going to sponsor you? AARP?
Pops: You're out of shape.
Patrick: I'm in good shape.
Pops: For Jazzercise.
Don't sell yourself short, son. You still got it. You set your mind to it, no one could stop you.
What if they go to jail? I'll never get a car.
Displaying all 6 quotes | dclm-gs1-011550000 |
Andrew Lincoln, Chandler Riggs
[WARNING: This story contains major spoilers from Sunday's midseason return of The Walking Dead. Read at your own risk!]
It wasn't long before at least a few of the scattered survivors found their way back to each other during Sunday's The Walking Dead. But those who did reunite were put through the paces first.
As Rick (Andrew Lincoln) and Carl (Chandler Riggs) struggled to find safety after the fall of the prison in the midseason finale, Carl learned a very important lesson: No matter how much he wants to be treated like an adult, he can't survive alone in this world. After losing his shoe to a walker who nearly got a bite of him, Carl all but gave up on surviving when he thought Rick actually died and turned into a zombie.
"What you have to recognize is that a lot of what you're seeing in Carl is actually projection from a child that wants to be taken seriously, that wants to be considered an adult, that wants to be part of the group that is respected," executive producer Robert Kirkman tells "While he may seem very capable, very mature and that he's going down this extremely dark path, that's just something that he is almost pretending at times to be strong. He is still very much a child. He hasn't quite reached that point of adulthood yet."
Thankfully, Rick is still alive. But unfortunately for Carl, Rick has not quite hit rock bottom yet, so son will need to continue to protect father from the horrors of this new world — a world that has already claimed his wife Lori (Sarah Wayne Callies) and also possibly his daughter Judith. "Anyone who has read the comic book series knows that there's definitely some more gut punches on the road ahead for him," Kirkman says. "While this is the lowest point he's reached in the series thus far, this is a tough world. I don't think Rick Grimes is going to be relaxing anytime soon."
The good news is that Rick and Carl have been reunited with Michonne (Danai Gurira), who went through her own trial by fire after being separated from those she has come to love. "Michonne was alone for a long time and she did not enjoy that," Kirkman says. "That's why she latched on to the group the way that she did. In much the same way that Daryl [Norman Reedus] did, she became very invested in the safety and security in the prison. That's why she was the one that continued to try to hunt down The Governor [David Morrissey] to make sure he couldn't come back and do the thing that he did. Her main fear is that she was going back into that period of aloneness and what that meant to her was losing her humanity."
The Walking Dead's Robert Kirkman dissects midseason finale, teases what's next
Cracking under the pressure of being alone, Michonne experienced dreams that gave viewers insight in the Katana-wielding heroine's past. "You can never completely trust the things you see in a dream sequence," Kirkman says. "It did seem to reveal a lot of flashback-type stuff. But as far as Michonne's story goes, there is much more yet to be revealed. Flashbacks or not, you will be finding out quite a bit about all of these characters, who they are and what makes them tick as we see them put through their paces."
Now that the trio is back together, will they set out to find the rest of the group? "It's entirely possible that now that they found each other in a safe place, that's really the name of the game," Kirkman teases. "Leaving that house in order to try and find other people that may or may not be dead isn't a practical decision to make in this world. We could see them setting up camp in this house."
What did you think of The Walking Dead's midseason return?
The Walking Dead airs Sundays at 9/8c on AMC. | dclm-gs1-011560000 |
When Grosse Pointe ingenue Lindsay Sloane sees starlets modeling tube tops and thongs in horndog monthlies like Maxim, she thinks that "it's not even a step up from Playboy," she tells TV Guide Online. Yet in the current issue of Stuff, there she is, wearing a blouse that's so sheer, she could catch pneumonia in Maui. What gives?
"I'll do anything to save our show," she explains, "and that's an audience that wouldn't know about it except if you do the men's magazines and they see you in revealing clothes."
Unfortunately, Sloane's desperate action is called for — these are desperate times for the stage-door Beverly Hills, 90210 parody that casts her in (essentially) the Tori Spelling role. Though critics reacted to the sitcom as orgasmically as Stuff subscribers do to the glossy's layouts, audiences avoided even the series's February season finale as if it was Shannen Doherty before she's had her morning latté.
"The whole show doesn't revolve around making a TV show, but that might've been why we were losing some viewers — it was too confusing," Sloane theorizes. "Now it's like the characters happen to be on a TV show... like on Melrose Place, they just happened to live in the same apartment complex."
In the end, whether Tuesday's announcement of the WB's fall line-up lets down Sloane, she won't regret using her pompoms to cheerlead for Grosse Pointe. She'd do it again — and more. "I wish you could talk to Nielsen [ratings] box owners directly," she sighs. "'Please, watch us! Even if you don't, just turn on the box and leave the room!'" | dclm-gs1-011570000 |
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Tennis Live Stats
Cavaliers Edge No. 1 UCLA, 4-3 in NCAA Championship Match
Courtesy: UCLA Athletics
Release: 05/21/2013
May 21, 2013
Urbana, Ill. - If there was ever a question of how close a team can come to an NCAA title and not actually win it, the top-seeded UCLA men's tennis team answered that question on Tuesday, as the Bruins suffered a gut-wrenching, 4-3 loss to second-seeded Virginia in the championship match at the University of Illinois' Khan Outdoor Tennis Center. One minute, UCLA (29-2) was within a point of tying Stanford for the second most NCAA tennis titles with 17. The next, the Bruins were watching the Cavaliers storm the court to celebrate their program's first. One thing's for sure, the University of Illinois played host to one of the greatest NCAA tennis finals in history. Unfortunately, it didn't go UCLA's way.
"I thought we had it," said UCLA head coach Billy Martin, who was looking for his second NCAA title after leading the Bruins to the championship in 2005. "It's hard to imagine we were that close and didn't get it. We were right there, match point. I will replay it 100 times between now and tomorrow. But we will get over it. It's not the end of the world. We will recover."
With the match tied at 3-3, Tuesday's showdown ultimately came down to a battle at court No. 3, where Bruin captain Adrien Puget and Virginia's Mitchell Frank each had their team's national championship hopes rested solely on their shoulders. Puget looked fantastic in the first set, cruising to a 6-0 victory. Frank was able to work his way back in the match in the second, serving it out up 5-4 to tie the match at one set apiece. The two players then traded breaks early in the third, however Puget made his move in the eighth game, breaking Frank for a 5-3 lead. Now serving for the match, Puget got ahead in the game 40-30. That's when the drama unfolded. With a match point in hand, Puget worked Frank deep into the corner on a high, backhand volley. Frank barely got a racket on it, however before the point ended, the chair umpire called a violation on Puget for touching the bottom of the net with his foot. Frank got the game back to deuce, eventually breaking Puget to get the final set back on serve. The momentum took a big swing in Virginia's favor at that point, as Frank held for 5-5 and ended up breaking Puget in the very next game. Frank got up 40-0 in the final game, and despite Puget's effort to save two match points, Frank would convert the third, falling on his back in celebration as his teammates piled on.
"If he touches the net and the umpire sees it, you have to call it," added Martin. "It's a tough pill to swallow in this particular match given the importance. It is what it is. It's not like we want (the umpire) to let it go. I know I wouldn't if I was in their shoes. I give Frank credit for hanging in there. It was still deuce. It's not like that one point decided the match. I think it was a fair call."
The Bruins got down early in Tuesday's contest, surrendering the doubles point to go down 0-1 heading into singles play, as the Cavaliers took victories at court Nos. 1 and 3 to lock up the point. Puget and teammate Karue Sell were the bright spot for UCLA in doubles, moving out to a 7-4 lead at court No. 2. Virginia, already with an 8-2 win at court No. 1, clinched the point when Justin Shane and Julen Uriguen downed Alex Brigham and Clay Thompson, 8-5 at court No. 3.
UCLA got off to a solid start in singles, however by only winning three first sets, it became apparent early on that someone was going to have to come from behind to win.
After Shane downed Thompson, 6-2, 6-2 at court No. 5, UCLA answered right back with a pair of wins of its own, tying the dual match score at 2-2 with wins at court Nos. 2 and 4. Marcos Giron pulled off a huge upset at the No. 2 spot, where he beat second-ranked Alex Domijan, 6-4, 6-4. Giron is ranked 25th in the ITA singles rankings. Sophomore Dennis Mkrtchian, the nation's 75th-ranked player, followed that win by registering an upset of his own, beating 28th-ranked Mac Styslinger, 6-4, 6-3 at court No. 4.
Virginia would take the battle of No. 1's, as third-ranked Jarmere Jenkins outlasted 27th-ranked Dennis Novikov, 7-6(3), 6-3 at court No. 1. The Cavaliers now owned a 3-2 lead, meaning that UCLA would need to take the remaining two matches.
At the time of Jenkins' win, Frank was serving to stay in the match, up 5-4 in the second set at court No. 3, while Sell was up a break, 5-3 in the second and looking to send it to a third at court No. 6. Sell would move out to a 5-1 lead over Uriguen, eventually breaking serve to close out the deciding set, winning 4-6, 6-3, 6-2.
Sell's win focused all attention on court No. 3, where Frank and Puget had their dramatic finish.
Giron made the all-tournament team at No. 2 singles, as did Sell at No. 6 singles. Puget and Sell made the all-tournament team at No. 2 doubles.
UCLA is not done in Illinois, as three Bruins - Puget, Giron and Novikov - will be competing in the NCAA Singles Championships beginning on Wednesday. The complete draw can be found here: NCAA Singles Draw
NCAA Championship
#3 Virginia 4, #1 UCLA 3
May 21, 2013 at Urbana, IL (Khan Outdoor Tennis Complex)
3. #89 Shane/Uriguen (UVA) def. Alex Brigham/Thompson (UCLA) 8-5
Virginia Wins Doubles Point
1. #3 Jarmere Jenkins (UVA) def. #27 Dennis Novikov (UCLA) 7-6(3), 6-3
2. #25 Marcos Giron (UCLA) def. #2 Alex Domijan (UVA) 6-4, 6-4
3. #39 Mitchell Frank (UVA) def. #22 Adrien Puget (UCLA) 0-6, 6-4, 7-5
4. #75 Dennis Mkrtchian (UCLA) def. #28 Mac Styslinger (UVA) 6-4, 6-3
5. Justin Shane (UVA) def. #119 Clay Thompson (UCLA) 6-2, 6-2
6. Karue Sell (UCLA) def. Julen Uriguen (UVA) 4-6, 6-3, 6-2
Match Notes
Virginia 30-0; National ranking #3
UCLA 29-2; National ranking #1
Order of finish: Doubles (1,3); Singles (5,2,4,1,6,3)
‹ UCLA Men's Tennis
*UCLA #3 Premium S/S Basketball Jersey - Navy
Price: $90.00 | dclm-gs1-011580000 |
Subscribe English
look up any word, like sapiosexual:
To describe a noun or pronoun that is as awesome as cats, which are clearly very awesome indeed.
Typically used to express one's appreciation after having witnessed an impressive display of skill, or to impress upon others the level of one's own skill.
Especially applicable to anything which involves a high degree of dexterity, mental focus and cat-like reflexes.
"Yo, did you see that Danny MacAskill bicycle trick video? Dude is mad catsome!"
"Shit yeah, I just got a 25 kill streak in Call of Duty! I'm wicked catsome!"
by Illformed April 23, 2010
5 0 | dclm-gs1-011590000 |
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Catalina Raman
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Name/AKAsAgeLocationPossible Relatives | dclm-gs1-011610000 |
Has the 'Peak Oil' Tipping Point Arrived?
The concern with peak oil may be overblown, but there are still ways to prepare for it.
By and SHARE
Robert Hahn is director of economics at Oxford's Smith School, chief economist at the Legatum Institute, and a senior fellow at the Georgetown Center for Business and Public Policy. Peter Passell is a senior fellow at the Milken Institute in Santa Monica and the editor of its quarterly economic policy journal, The Milken Institute Review. They co-founded Regulation2point0.org, a web portal on economic regulation.
"Peak oil" is one of those ideas that used to be the province of commodity speculators and zanier environmentalists, but is now entering the mainstream of the energy policy debate. The idea is simple on its face: For one reason or another (which one does it matter), we are approaching a limit to global oil production; thereafter, it must fall. Does this magic moment/number matter? Yes, if, as many suggest, the post-peak era is bound to be one of sharply higher energy prices that disrupt the global economy or, at very least, reduce the potential for economic growth just when the globe's have-nots seem to have a chance of joining the middle-class.
Like many other economists, we think the concern with peak oil is overblown. (For a lucid explanation, check out this jargon-light article by Oxford University's Dieter Helm.) But to cut to the chase, the explanation is straightforward: Markets generally adjust to supply and demand changes in ways that facilitate adaptation. We'll concede, though, that a smooth adjustment is not guaranteed—that the revelation of peak oil could lead to price spikes that generate significant economic pain.
[See a collection of political cartoons on gas prices.]
Which brings us to the real subject of this column: a recent insightful paper in the prestigious journal Nature, in which very senior scientists James Murray and David King suggest that the day of reckoning really is approaching—that "oil's tipping point has passed." (For the record, Murray and King are colleagues of Hahn's). They argue that we are running out of oil accessible at low cost, and that other fuels may not fill the gap left between energy supply and demand at acceptable prices. The solution, they conclude, is to get serious fast about energy efficiency, alternatives to fossil fuels, and the containment of climate change.
Their description of the problem is first rate, but their policy analysis is less developed, likely because Nature imposes tight word constraints on authors. Murray and King suggest a bevy of policies for dealing with peak oil. Among them: oil taxes, energy conservation mandates, the promotion of nuclear power, lower speed limits, tax credits for renewables, and… you get the idea.
[Check out the U.S. News energy blog.]
While their concerns are justified, we think they may conflate two very different problems—and in the confusion, risk both waste and overkill. If climate change is the issue, the simplest, most efficient fix is to tax carbon emissions. If excessive energy use is the problem, the way out is to tax energy use. No muss, no fuss (in theory, anyway); just set taxes equal to the negative spillovers created by the harmful behavior.
If a sudden jump in the price of energy is the concern, then the solution is more complicated. Still, something less than a regulatory war on energy use would be called for. One approach would be to expand buffer stocks of fuel, like the U.S. Strategic Petroleum Reserve. Another is to deepen the futures markets for energy, making it easier for enterprises (public and private) to hedge against the risk of a price spike. In any event, the bottom line is the same: policymakers should choose the right tool for the right problem, carefully weighing the potential benefits against the likely costs.
[See a collection of political cartoons on energy policy.]
We assume that the authors prefer a smorgasbord of fixes because they are all too aware that the world of public policy is not as straightforward as economists would like it to be. (King would know: He served as Prime Minister Tony Blair's chief science adviser). But throwing a bunch of proposals at the ceiling and seeing which ones stick seems to us a recipe for waste. Somewhere along the line, somebody has to set priorities—preferably on the basis of what delivers the most bang for the buck/pound/euro.
There is, by the way, another element to the peak-oil story that deserved more attention in the Nature piece. If we are running out of fossil fuels faster than we thought, carbon dioxide emissions may be lower than some climate models suggest and climate change may be a less immediate danger. Perhaps there is a small silver lining in this latest limits-to-growth scenario after all.
• See a collection of political cartoons on the economy.
• Check out Economic Intelligence on Twitter at @EconomicIntel. | dclm-gs1-011630000 |
EVE Online: players call for greater transparency, CCP says no
Thursday, 14th February 2013 02:08 GMT By Brenna Hillier
EVE Online players have requested the developer provide proof of wrongdoing when handing out bans, and escalate protests as high as posible. CCP has refused, saying it can’t escalate higher than its own CEO, and protesting it wields the ban hammer based on “actual empirical evidence” pulled from servers, which for various legal and technical reasons cannot be made accessible to players. The scandal at the heart of the drama involves a player from a generally “good” corporation receiving a ban for using bots and the community’s incapacity to believe he might have been cheating. It has been lovingly chronicled on Destructoid if you’d like to jump down the rabbit hole.
Breaking news
Sign in to post a comment.
1. digitalAngst
Always keep in mind: EVE Online ≈ Assholes Online
Which means even ‘a player from a generally “good” corporation’ could very well be the mangiest bastard imaginable. If the person in question were one’a them Goons no one would bat an eyelash.
Even I have my evil phases :D
#1 1 year ago
2. spatuluk
Instead of making unreasonable requests from CCP, why don’t they ponder why their member biomassed over a mere 14 day ban (he didn’t know the ISK was going to be confiscated at the time)?
He is blatantly now playing with a different account and an adjusted bot.
#2 1 year ago | dclm-gs1-011640000 |
Questions over length of Terry ban
John Terry has been handed a four-match ban for racially abusing QPR's Anton Ferdinand but the length of the suspension has already been questioned.
The Chelsea skipper had denied the charge but an FA independent regulatory commission ruled he was guilty of misconduct during the Barclays Premier League defeat at QPR on October 23 last year. He was also fined £220,000, thought to be just over a week's wages.
Terry, 31, is considering an appeal, meanwhile questions have been asked why the ban imposed was only half the length of Liverpool's Luis Suarez, who served an eight-match suspension for racially abusing Manchester United's Patrice Evra.
Senior figures in football's anti-racism movements have privately queried the difference, but are unlikely to speak publicly until the appeals process is completed.
Joey Barton has also criticised the decision as "a shambles" compared to his own 12-game ban for violent conduct. He said on Twitter: "What an absolute farce. 12 games for violent conduct and only 4 for that. FA should be embarrassed £shambles."
Terry expressed disappointment after the outcome, pointing out he was found not guilty in magistrates court in July of a racially-motivated public order offence in connection with the same incident.
Terry's representatives, Elite Management, said in a statement released on his behalf: "Mr Terry is disappointed that the FA Regulatory Commission has reached different conclusion to the clear not guilty verdict of a court of law. He has asked for the detailed written reasons of the decision and will consider them carefully before deciding whether to lodge an appeal."
Terry had been accused of calling Ferdinand a "f****** black c***" as an insult. He admitted using the words, but insisted he had only been repeating words he thought Ferdinand had accused him of saying.
The written reasons will also provide the explanation for the difference in length of ban compared to Suarez. The most likely outcome is that Terry only said the insult once, while Suarez was judged by his panel to have called Evra "negro" up to seven times. Suarez was also fined around a week's wages - in his case £40,000.
Terry is likely to still be available to play for Chelsea against Arsenal on Saturday as the ban does not start until after the appeals process has been concluded. The defender has 14 days from the receipt of the written reasons for the decision, and if he does appeal then that hearing may not take place until the end of next month.
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Article Header Image
Death and Dying in D&D
Legends and Lore
Mike Mearls
Having written about clerics these past two weeks, it’s a short leap to write about the terrible fate all those cure light wounds spells try to fend off: death. Character death has been a part of D&D since the beginning. After all, without some sort of risk then the rewards we earn in the game are cheapened and made hollow.
Raise the Dead
In AD&D, the raise dead spell was available to clerics of 9th level or higher. To give you an idea of the power of such a character, the cleric’s advancement table only spelled out the first 11 levels—so reaching 9th level was clearly considered quite an accomplishment. The person being raised had to survive a Resurrection Survival percentage chance, as determined by their Constitution; but, so long as they hadn’t been dead for more days than the cleric raising them had levels, they’d be fine (albeit weakened from the ordeal). 2nd Edition added one more small wrinkle, the loss of a point of Constitution, to the process.
3rd Edition kept raise dead at the same level, but added more drawbacks to the spell. In AD&D you had to make the Resurrection Survival check to see if the character was able to be raised, and then the character was too weak to act for one day per day spent dead. In 3E, the caster needed a 5,000 gp material component to cast the spell, while the recipient now lost a level. Arguably, that’s a softer penalty than the permanent loss of a point of Constitution; then again, due to how ability score bonuses worked in 2nd Edition, plenty of characters could lose a point of Constitution without really noticing it.
In 4th Edition, raise dead became a ritual that required 500 gp to cast. In addition, the target suffered a –1 penalty to most d20 rolls for six encounters of adventuring. It’s interesting to see how death became less of an obstacle in 4th Edition, after 2nd and 3rd raised the penalties for it. That said, it’s important to remember that 2nd, 3rd and 4th Edition extended the levels of expected play, with 2E and 3E plotting advancement to 20th level and 4E to 30th (though, while 2E did extend to higher levels, like 1E it primarily focused on levels 1-12, with most adventures topping out at around 7th level).
I’m Not Dead Yet
Oddly enough, the process of dying remained largely the same in 1st and 3rd Editions. Characters knocked down to -10 hit points died, and characters dropped to 0 or fewer hit points lost 1 point per round until reaching that threshold. In 1st Edition, a character so incapacitated was forced to rest for a week and lost a limb (or suffered some other permanent injury) at -6 hit points or lower. 2nd Edition was far more draconian, with death at 0 hit points (as it worked in Basic D&D), but with the 1st Edition rule available as an option.
4th Edition extended the death threshold to a negative number equal to half the character’s maximum hit points. In addition, rather than lose hit points each round, a character must make a death saving throw. Fail three of those, and the character dies.
For an added wrinkle of complexity, 2nd Edition added a rule for instant death when a character took more than a set amount of damage from a single attack. 3rd Edition also preserved this rule. 4th Edition removed it.
Thus, aside from 2nd Edition (and frankly, I think most people used the optional rule), death remained fairly constant in D&D until 4th Edition. In 4E, it is now harder to die from damage as opposed to failed death saving throws.
Some Observations
First of all, I have to admit that I was completely surprised at all the little changes to death, dying, and raise dead through the years. I knew that Basic D&D killed off characters at 0 hit points, but otherwise I would’ve assumed that the AD&D rule was consistent from 1st to 3rd Edition. I also assumed that the loss of Constitution was another 1st to 3rd constant, and I never would’ve guessed that the 2nd Edition default was death at 0 hit points. I’d like to think it’s because I’ve rarely had a character die (except for my elf wizard Dayereth Sunstar; curse you Jim Cirillo!). More likely it’s because it’s easy to let rules that look similar blur into each other over the years.
So what is it with death? Why all these little tweaks and changes? I think it boils down to this: Death is really DM dependent. Some DMs like slaughtering characters by the truckload. They dare their players to delve into dungeons, battling through fiendish traps and endless hordes of monsters. Other DMs find losing a character to be an enormous headache, especially if they have plots and plans surrounding them. Eoden the Chosen makes a fairly poor champion of Helm if a gnoll stabs him to death outside Baldur’s Gate before he can complete his prophecy.
I’ve talked a lot about how D&D players are a diverse bunch, with their own sets of priorities and preferences when it comes to the game. That extends to DMs and game designers, too. Recently, R&D went back and played every version of D&D ever produced. While the changes in the rules were interesting, what caught my attention the most was the adventures. Playing Basic D&D in an adventure that emphasized exploration and strategic thinking was far more enjoyable than using those same rules to fight monster after monster in a dungeon. In comparison, we played a fairly combat intensive 3E adventure and had a blast.
The rules of D&D and the adventures designed for it have a clear effect on how people play and perceive the game. Death and dying play a big role in that feel—from a gritty, harsh game of survival, to a story-driven game where the players know that resolving the plot, not living or dying, is the point of the campaign.
Legends & Lore Poll Results: 05/03/2011
What do you do?
• Search the western wall: 61.6%
• Head south: 20.1%
• Return to the northern intersection and head north: 14.5%
• Return to the northern intersection and leave the dungeon: 2.0%
• Return to the northern intersection and head west: 1.7%
Poll Time
1. What do you think of character death in D&D?
What do you think of character death?
Character death should be a regular part of the game.
Character death should happen once in a while.
Characters should die only rarely.
2. What do you think of characters returning from death in D&D?
What do you think of characters returning from death?
A dead character should stay dead, with no options for return.
A character should come back at a heavy price that encourages most players to abandon a dead character.
A character should come back at a moderate price, one that most players will pay.
A character should come back easily, like recovering from any other condition.
3. What should drive character death?
What should drive character death?
Random chance; any fight or trap might kill an unlucky character.
Bad choices; smart players can avoid death if they plan well and pay attention.
The plot or the story; a character should die only if the DM sets that up to happen.
Any of the above; a DM should have options to introduce any of these situations into the game.
4. Continuing our adventure from last week, as you inspect the wall you note that it is clearly of supernatural origin. As you examine the stones in their checkerboard pattern, they give way to your touch and the lantern pulses a flash of white light. The wall disappears, revealing three shambling, rotting figures beyond it. With a moan, they shuffle toward you. What do you do?
What do you do?
As a rogue, I throw a dagger at the nearest one before it can react.
As a fighter, I draw my sword and charge.
As a cleric, I brandish my holy symbol and turn these obviously undead creatures.
As a wizard, I draw my wand and unleash a burning hands spell.
Mike Mearls
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Institute Welcomes Peter Gourevitch
Peter Gourevitch, Professor of Political Science at the University of California San Diego, visited the Institute Thursday to meet with students before giving a campus wide talk on the implications of the current economic crisis. Gourevitch is a specialist in political economy with a particular focus on international trade and economic globalization, trade disputes, regulatory systems, and corporate governance.
In his campus wide talk, Gourevitch gave his answer to the question: How does the current global crisis in the economy resemble earlier economic shocks, and what can we learn from those other episodes about issues that face U.S. and world policy makers? To Gourevitch, several themes appear striking: the interaction of "private bonding" arrangements and government regulation in shaping the trust that underlies economic life; the pattern of cycles vs. sequences in explaining how countries converge or diverge in what they do; the relationship between economic shock and political choices; the autonomy of the state; the role of ideology in shaping economic policy outcomes; the interaction of globalization and domestic politics. | dclm-gs1-011690000 |
Quest:Now, When I Grow Up...
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Revision as of 07:13, May 17, 2010 by Strizh (Talk | contribs)
Children's Week icon
Horde 32 Now, When I Grow Up...
StartBlood Elf Orphan
EndBlood Elf Orphan
Level70 (Requires 60)
CategoryChildren's Week
Reputation+250 Lower City
PreviousHch'uu and the Mushroom People, A Trip to the Dark Portal, and Visit the Throne of the Elements
NextBack to the Orphanage
Now, When I Grow Up... is part of the Shattrath Children's Week quest chain for the horde.
Both Now, When I Grow Up... and Time to Visit the Caverns must be completed before the next quest is offered.
Objectives Edit
Take your orphan, Salandria, to see the Elite Tauren Chieftain in Silvermoon City's Walk of Elders. Make sure to call for her if she is not present when you arrive.
Description Edit
Maybe I already asked you this, but when you were my age did you know that you wanted to be a <class> when you grew up?
I'm not sure what I want to be. Maybe a mage or a warlock, or a Blood Knight, like I said before? Or maybe... A rock star!! Like Sig Nicious, the blood elf, in the Elite Tauren Chieftain!
I heard that when the aren't touring, they hang out in Silvermoon City! They just sit on a balcony in the Walk of Elders waiting for people to stop by.
Please take me there. Please!
Completion Edit
Did you see that? They were cheering for me!!
Now I know how they feel when they are up on stage singing! I felt the power and the energy!
Just like they say in their song!
My mind is made up, I am going to be a rock star when I grow up!
Gains Edit
Patch changesEdit
This quest replaces When I Grow Up....
However, Salandria still sends a letter saying she has been released into Lady Liadrin's custody.
Quest progression Edit
1. Official horde mini-icon [70] Children's Week
2. All of:
3. All of:
4. Official horde mini-icon [70] Back to the Orphanage
External linksEdit
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Each day people consume a drug derived from a natural insecticide. That drug is caffeine. David Greene talks to Murray Carpenter, author of Caffeinated: How Our Daily Habit Helps, Hurts and Hooks Us.
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A video that has become popular on YouTube shows a tourist getting a member of the Queen's Guard to smile. The guards are usually stoic. | dclm-gs1-011710000 |
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Melissa Block and Robert Siegel read emails from listeners about Game of Thrones and The Big Broadcast.
Without World War I, the woman's suffrage movement might have been slower to...
If the Great War had never happened, America might look vastly different. Among other things, woman's suffrage and the civil rights movement might have suffered. | dclm-gs1-011720000 |
Energy weapons
Zap, crackle and pop
Military technology: Energy weapons are finally moving from the laboratory to the real world. But they are hardly the super-weapons of science fiction
See article
Readers' comments
The Opportunist
Whatsoever their limitations, lasers are going to revolutionize conventional and unconventional war.
In conventional warfare, ships will no longer be "wasting assets" in naval-land engagements. ["The Pentagon's Wasting Assets." Foreign Affairs. 1 July 2009. Web. 30 Aug. 2012. .] China, and many other countries, have manufactured large anti-ship missile arsenals. Many in military have claimed that this exposes aircraft carriers and other naval ships to such a risk as to make, say, the straight of Taiwan and other areas around China, a no-go zone - viz. to risky to enter or deploy to. For this reason, the projection of power by naval force is allegedly losing its relevance.
Point-defense laser systems obviate this outcome. China's arsenal, instead, becomes the wasting asset as laser defense systems are increasingly deployed to counteract missile barrages on warships. Cheap lasers mounted on destroyers will be able to intercept incoming missiles, enabling the creation of perimeter from which drones, fighter jets, bombers, helicopters, and special forces can be deployed. Sure enough, an advanced naval group will have some depreciating assets as well - cruise missiles will start to become obsolete as developing nations exploit the same laser systems. Inadvertently, this may spur the development of scram-jet propelled missiles capable of speeding past laser defense systems.
On the unconventional side, swarms of small missile boats will no longer pose the same threat. The virtue of a laser defense system is that it can disable not only moving vessels carrying weapon platforms but also the projectiles fired from the weapon platforms. RPGs or other missiles fired from a small vessel will become susceptible to the heat of the laser point-defense system. Furthermore, the accuracy of lasers defense systems allows ships armed with them to engage targets at a considerable distance, precluding some ships from even entering close enough range to launch its salvo. Iran's much vaunted missile-equipped swarm ships will no longer pose as much of a threat. Equally, in asymmetric land engagements, mortar attacks and rpg attacks can be shot down at a distance before reaching their target.
Having heaped praise on the development of laser defense systems, I must admit their shortcomings. Sure enough, torpedoes fired from submarines will still remain a spectre to all naval fleets. And swarm tactics may overwhelm the capabilities of even the most advanced laser defense systems. Just as crucially, laser systems are still in early development and will take some time to be deployed.
Yet overall we are witnessing the development of a game changer, the strategic implications of which have largely gone unreported. Conservative general better start getting prepared.
But when are they going to get around to making sharks with laser beams attached to their heads!?
@ whippersnapper
'fricking sharks with fricking laser beams on their heads!'
although I have heard that the US has ordered a lot of sea bass recently...
and secondly:
Ok the US is screwed. China's cities are so well protected by pollution that lasers will be completely useless if invading a Chinese city.
Why no mention of the Active Denial System?
The Army actually deployed one to Iraq but decided not to use it lest the Iraqis believe the US was trying to kill them with a death ray. That was unfortunate, since the system effectively used microwaves at a non-lethal level to disburse crowds, perhaps had it been used, some of those who were likely subsequently shot at instead may have lived.
Continuing development of these conventional weapon platforms is all well and good, but in any serious armed conflict with another major power nuclear weapons will always remain the trump card.
The Chinese in particular with their anti-ship missiles need only to deliver a very small-yield nuclear device (10 kt would do) to right outside the very short range these lasers have (and will have) in order to disable any ship(s) we have in the area.
These weapons have far more value in protecting ships (and other things) in asymmetrical warfare, piracy, and against foes without nuclear weapons, which will necessarily limit both their deployment and ultimate power needs, regardless of the advancement of the technology.
I disagree that these platforms will ever become 'strategic' game-changers, just tactical and only then against enemies which we can already completely overwhelm with existing platforms.
shaun39 in reply to The Opportunist
Bang on the mark: laser weapons are indeed a game changer (or will become one in the next decade or so).
Your allusion to swarm threats is salient too. While China's anti-ship missiles might be somewhat less effective, twenty such missiles approaching together at a high mach speed would probably obliterate any aircraft carrier, with inadequate time to shoot down all threats.
Laser technology will shift the balance in naval warfare, but the weapon and strategy race will continue. It isn't at all clear that ships would regain a position of dominance.
The Opportunist in reply to terrestri
Nuclear weapons will always be a trump card.
Yet possession of nuclear weapons is seldom consistent with use of nuclear weapons in war. And tactical nuclear warheads are no exception - the use of which signifies readiness to enter full-scale nuclear warfare - a prospect that no nation has committed to entering.
Even if tactical nuclear weapons were deployed without a guarantee of mutually assured destruction, laser defense systems could still hold their own in many situations. Tactics will have to change, but fleet formations can spread out to mitigate the damage caused by nuclear weapons. Smaller frigates could anchor at the distant outskirts of a fleet, shooting down anti-ship missiles as they approach with laser point defense systems (some of the newer littoral combat ships would perform this task very well as many of their type give off a very small signature in radar return). As lasers become more efficient and powerful, there is scope for the deployment of laser defense systems on mid-sized bombers, further increasing their effectiveness (conceding that certain atmospheric conditions may interfere with their use).
Anti-ship missiles tend to move in a predictable fashion, skimming the sea en route to their target. By careful placement of laser defense systems, fleet defense can be maintained much better than it presently is.
The not quite crazy American
Aircraft are what lasers are going to make obsolete. Sooner or later someones going to create a vastly more efficient beam generation system of one kind or another. The day it deploys anything that shows above the horizon has a problem.
Can I haz gigawatt-class FEL please?
Paying for it? Dun worry. With that thing I can get the money.
Military spending is very generous and opaque in every country.
But THIS can only happen in the USA:
After spending US$ 5 billion in 15 years "the programme was ignominiously zapped in 2011 by the Pentagon, which couldn’t quite work out how it would be able to keep a big, slow-moving jumbo jet airborne around the clock, deep within enemy territory, while waiting for a missile to blast off nearby"
So obviously it was not the laser, but the logical error which ruined a project. But this must have been obvious 15years ago, too. So why did they spend 15years and 5billions to develop the laser?
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Arias Klondstein
Mendel philosopher and leader of the Mendel Race terrorist group
A thin man with a rugged looking gray goatee and a shaved head. His eyes sparkle with intelligence, and his face wears the mark of great responsibility and hardship. He is very tall, standing a good six and a half feet in height, and appears to be roughly fifty years old.
Born into a family of Mendel aristocrats, Arias Klondstein was earmarked for a position on the Coalition Council from a very young age. However, everyone was surprised when he instead chose to study philosophy and poetry, turning his back on his family’s prestige to contemplate the mysteries of the universe.
However, when he was confronted with anti-Mendel sentiments while traveling the galaxy, Klondstein began to develop a grudge towards humans and the races that supported him. He began to see for the first time that while Macada was considered an independent star system, there would always be those that would feel propriety towards not only his home, but his people in general.
In 890 PF, House Axolotl released a form of gene therapy that could be used to inhibit the abilities of High Mendels, a group of Mendels with notably advanced abilities. Klondstein was outraged, citing that Mendels that exhibited unique and potent abilities were no more dangerous than those among the Lacrymans or the Rovarri, and that the attitudes of House Axolotl were offensive. When the Coalition began to fund further research into the project, Klondstein formed a lobbyist group that sought to outlaw the legislation on genetic conditions.
Klondstein feared that, if allowed to go uncontested, House Axolotl would use their research to once again wield their authority over individuals within Mendel society- individuals who could very well serve as the upper echelons of Mendel society within the future. He worked tirelessly to stop the progress of House researchers, and ultimately he did manage to waylay the passing of a bill that would allow the Coalition to make use of the therapy to control Mendels exhibiting High Mendel mutations.
However, when House Axolotl began to experiment on High Mendel children, Klondstein took his activism a step further, and allied himself with a Mendel militia called Mendel Race. Under Klondstein’s charismatic leadership, Mendel Race led assault after assault on House-owned planetoids and space stations, ultimately garnering the group the label of “terrorist”.
As time went on, Mendel Race became a veritable enemy of the Coalition state as well, and Klondstein’s once optimistic activism was replaced with ruthless and militant behavior.
Klondstein is less active in his old age, relegating most of the administration of the group to subordinates. He is particularly close with Rachael Finn, a High Mendel child he rescued from House custody after she had been maimed by their experimentations.
Arias Klondstein
The Accretion Gospel photoneater | dclm-gs1-011760000 |
id,summary,reporter,owner,description,type,status,priority,milestone,component,version,severity,resolution,keywords,cc,focuses 11165,Blogroll/Bookmarks add/edit rating drop down to have 0 to 10 possible options,ProDevStudio,,"When adding a new link or editing an existing link: under the Advanced section the rating drop down only allows for maximum of 9. It should allow up to 10 or have some kind of options somewhere to set the appropriate maximum rating say for example 5, 10 or percentage rating. Just looking at the current trunk version the rating for add/edit link under advanced link_advanced_meta_box does not allow more then rating of 9. In file (wp-admin->includes->meta-boxes.php line: 804) in the for loop stop condition a = is missing. see patch attached for fix/details.",defect (bug),closed,normal,2.9,Administration,2.9,normal,fixed,has-patch links,, | dclm-gs1-011770000 |
id summary reporter owner description type status priority milestone component version severity resolution keywords cc focuses 17034 E_NOTICE with WP_DEBUG when calling get_the_ID() tillkruess When get_the_ID() is called, but $post is NULL (for example on a 404 page) a E_NOTICE is caused when WP_DEBUG is set to TRUE. defect (bug) closed normal General 3.1 minor wontfix | dclm-gs1-011780000 |
From FedoraProject
< PackagingDrafts
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Currently local server virtual provides are used in fedora, the one I am aware is smtpdaemon for a mail server listening on the smtp port. webserver is also another potential candidate, but as seen below it doesn't seems to be used for a web server listening on the http port. Therefore the naming and the exact meaning of those virtual provides is not clear. There is no way to discover the name of such virtual provides, nor to list them all.
This draft proposes a naming scheme for virtual provides corresponding with local servers listening on a specific port, with a strict meaning of the provides and a naming scheme generic and rule based.
The aim is not to inflate the number of virtual provides, they should only be added if needed, but to provide a more systematic naming scheme.
Virtual provides corresponding with local servers should be named along
port_name being the service name associated with that port number in /etc/services, or the port number when no record exists in /etc/services (but in that case it is doubtful that a virtual provides is useful).
So, for example a virtual provides for a server listening on port 80 should be server(http).
Things to do if the proposal is accepted
collect the virtual server provides
Currently smtpdaemon. Don't hesitate to add more if you know them.
change the virtual provides
For the known existing virtual provides.
smtpdaemon should be changed to server(smtp).
# repoquery --whatprovides smtpdaemon
It looks like all the packages that should provide this virtual provide are listed here.
# repoquery --whatrequires smtpdaemon
I remember having inspected those packages and if I recall well, they really requires a local smtp server.
webserver status is less clear. Indeed there are packages that set up an http server that are not providing this virtual provide:
# repoquery --whatprovides webserver
And it seems that none of the packages that requires webserver requires a local http server:
# repoquery --whatrequires webserver
Instead most of them seem to require a cgi server, and some clearly requires the apache web server since they install their files in apache specific directories.
Therefore the semantics of the webserver virtual provides may be more along a web server providing cgi support (namazu-cgi, nut-cgi, darcs-server, qdbm-cgi) and therefore can stay. Sometimes it means a cgi server, but also also means a server with apache like web server configuration directory and config file (bugzilla, htdig-web, phpMyAdmin, postgresql-pgpoolAdmin, wordtrans-web) in that case the requires may better be httpd, but this is out of the scope of that proposal.
nut-devel seems to be a mistake (hopefully the merge review isn't still done).
A server(smtp) provides should be added to the packages providing smtpdaemon by F-9. The Requires for all Fedora packages should be changed to use the new provides by F-9, too. When you implement the new Provides, please leave the old ones so that third party packages that have grown to depend on them can continue to function, at least for F-9. After F-9 keeping or removing the provides is left to the packager.
PatriceDumas will fill bugs and provide patches for spec files as soon as (and if) FESCo ratifies this proposal.
There is a need for a server(xdmcp) in ltsp5, and for the corresponding virtual provides in gdm, kdm, xdm, wdm. PatriceDumas is also volunteering to take care of that. | dclm-gs1-011790000 |
We are unable to find iTunes on your computer. To preview and buy music from Watermark by Enya, download iTunes now.
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iTunes Review
A professional musician for nearly a decade before this album was released in 1988, the multi-platinum Watermark is the recording that made Enya an international sensation. A native of Ireland, her true musical inspiration lies with her Celtic roots, and though she may have been branded the quintessential New Age vocalist in the U.S., that’s a simplification of her style and a bit of a misnomer in general. (Of course, it's a marketing approach that certainly did boost sales). So though, yes, this album does perfectly complement, say, a bubble bath, it’s too intricate and intriguing to simply dismiss it as soothing background music. What sets it apart from so many other relaxing albums is Enya’s voice. Stunning and pure, it's further enhanced by the vocal overdubs and layered keyboards that lend it a trace of echo and effectively draw the notes out, giving it a trace-like quality. The music rises and falls pleasantly around her without stretching for contrived drama, and there are piano and string passages throughout that are as gorgeous as they are subtle, along with some excellent use of traditional Irish pipes. Strong from start to finish, Watermark also contains “Orinoco Flow,” the album’s runaway hit single with the catchy “sail away” chorus. Arguably her finest and most consistent release.
Customer Reviews
I'm the only person I know that's heard of Enya, but her songs are gorgeous, they make you want to dance and cry at the same time! I always reccomend her music to people and they look at me like I'm nuts-- but I always have it on in my room, with a book and a cup of tea, it's so pretty and relaxing. Get Orinoco Flow, Only Time, and Wild Child ALL her music is BEAUTIFUL
One of those albums you need to listen to before you die
Enya has been at the forefront of her genre for a long time now. But this 1988 album is perhaps her crowning achievement. Every song flows with a vital energy. Each song transitions with the motion of waves on the beach, in and out, from dark to light, loud to soft, lazy to energetic and back again. Enya fashions an ingeniously unique sound through the combination of modern mixing and synthesizing and the melodic library and instruments of her ancient Celtic roots. While this sort of music is not for everybody, this is the cream of the crop and its worth a listen for all those who haven't. You might find you've been missing out all these years. There is alot more to this woman than Orinoco Flow (Sail Away)!
Absolutly Beautiful
She is one of those rare artists who use there music to inspire people. I cry everytime I listen to her songs. I just stumbled upon her and she is the best thing i have heard in a really long time. And although i am a teenager I know what real music sounds like and this is it.
Born: May 17, 1961 in Gaoth Dobhair, Donegal, Ireland
Genre: New Age
Full Bio
| dclm-gs1-011800000 |
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General Laws
Section 5. When clerks cause copies to be printed which they are required to furnish, they shall make no charge for such printed copies in excess of the amount actually paid for the printing thereof. They may require the estimated cost of said printing to be paid in advance, and they shall supervise the printing and correct the proofs without charge. All written copies, including such as are prepared for printing, shall be charged for at the rate of twenty cents a page; provided, that clerks shall, upon the request of the chief police officer of any city or town, or of any district attorney within the commonwealth, furnish without charge to such chief police officer or district attorney certified copies of criminal records in their custody.
Login To MyLegislature | dclm-gs1-011810000 |
Sehir is a busy, wealthy, and organized place.
Busy: There are constantly things going on, schemes being advanced. All manner of people pass through the city on their way to other places every day. The city sits on both sides of a river, promoting trade. In addition, it exists outside of any kingdom or fiefdom, making it an ideal destination for exiles and fugitives. Sehir sits on a river delta.
Wealthy: The trade routes passing through the city and its position on the river make for good cash inflow. The city taxes a percentage of all goods passing through, as well as collecting a tax from Inns, Taverns, and other places of entertainment. Merchants within the city are not taxed on their sales, and they are exempt from the normal tax on goods coming in. As a result, the city is home to many merchants, selling all manner of goods. This results in many folks coming to the city to shop, often spending time in the tavern, inn, or other places of entertainment. The city also collects property taxes, as any city does, as well as fees for the many permits the city requires for doing most anything.
Organized: A city couldn’t grow this large or be this busy without an organized government. The city is led by a Primator. The position is passed down, usually along bloodlines, but it’s not unheard of for it to go to someone outside of the previous holder’s family. A Primator rules for life, and is in charge of drafting the city’s laws.
Underneath the Primator is a Council, formed of elected folks from the city (one Councilperson per district). The Council is officially in charge of enforcing the laws the Primator drafts, and so is in charge of the Town’s guard. In addition, they act as an advisory body to the Primator, suggesting laws and such.
Finally, a third body is involved in the organization of the city. The city is home to many Guilds, organized around their particular craft. The Guild leaders meet once a month to discuss matters of commerce with in the city. The Guilds are officially in charge of policing their own members, and turn in any taxes or fees that may be charged on their member’s businesses. The Guild Council also decides the legitimacy of any new guilds that may spring up in the city, giving a seat in the Council to any guilds they feel deserve in. Although the Guilds technically have no power, their collective wealth gives them a significant amount of pull within the city.
The city is split into 6 Districts. The districts have a number, as well as a colloquial name.
District 1 – Old Town
District 2 – Riverside
District 3 – Eastdock
District 4 – Steel Heights
District 5 – Goblintown
District 6 – Dockyard
Back to main
Resounding Justice Investigations downeymb | dclm-gs1-011820000 |
title: Summer Lessons
chapter 12 Recuperating
author: Raven Dancer
disclaimer: All characters property of JK Rowling with the exceptions of the Drs. Barnes. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.
Hermione Granger looked around her room. It looked like a normal guest room: a bed, bureau, small writing desk with a comfortable chair under the window. Although the comforter was a wild swirl of color that screamed ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. The venerable wizard tended towards the simple adorned with bright splashes.
The beach house itself was a compact three bedroom structure with a long deck on the sand. The sitting room was a wonder, able to expand into a conference room to seat twenty. At the moment it seemed that Harry, Ron and Lupin were sleeping there. The smaller room next to hers contained the Headmaster.
The master bedroom and bath had been given over to Professor Snape and whichever Healer was on duty.
She had seen the Professor the evening before at dinner. He was rather grouchy, definitely not feeling well. The Healer, Jeffrey, had taken him from the room as soon as he'd eaten. Checking her swimsuit she pulled a loose t-shirt on and went out to the kitchen.
Good morning Ms. Granger, a deep cheerful voice intoned. At the table sat the older Healer with his patient.
Ms. Granger, Snape nodded his welcome.
Good morning Professor. Good morning Dr. Barnes... Hermione began.
James is fine, the Healer responded.
Professor is fine, grouched Snape.
she nodded with a grin, Professor Snape. The Healer chuckled. The Potions Master sneered before giving a small smile.
I believe, Ms. Granger, your fellow students are outside
preparing to swim, Snape offered.
Yes, Remus is going to teach you all how to body surf, James added.
Delightful fun, I'm sure, Snape drawled sarcastically.
Yes! We'll be out shortly. Someone needs to get a bit
of sun, James smirked.
With a wave of her hand Hermione walked through the glass doors onto the deck. Below her on the sand were several spread towels and a cooler. At the water's edge stood Albus Dumbledore resplendent in a striped swimming suit that caused her to laugh aloud. Only the Headmaster could pull off wearing a striped knee-length suit and tank shirt.
For several hours they swam. Draco had the best luck at learning to catch waves, his lithe body knifing through the water time and again. Ron was a close second and the two boys had great fun challenging one another. Harry and Hermione couldn't get the timing down but enjoyed swimming none the less.
Lupin finally convinced Dumbledore to stop trying as he sank like the proverbial stone each time he attempted to surf. When he finally admitted defeat he rose from the water looking like a drenched cat, mustache and beard sticking out at odd angles. His stomach reminded him it was a long time since breakfast.
Higher up on the sand Barnes had Snape basking in the sun. The heat baked through the terry cloth robe soothing much abused muscles. James was reading a mystery novel aloud to his patient.
You look like Frank Zappa! Hermione burst out as the drippy group crunched over the sand.
Better than Alice Cooper, Barnes replied knowingly. Snape might have been glaring but the round-lensed sunglasses blocked his eyes.
Forgive me if I do not burst into Valley Girl' the Potions Master growled. He twitched as various bodies plunked onto towels around him. Quietly the Healer draped a protective arm over his shoulders until everyone had settled and Dobby doled out food from a large blue cooler.
Hair's not long enough for Cooper, Remus muttered as he took a large bite of sandwich. Harry began tucking crisps into his sandwich causing everyone sans Ron to stare at him. The curly-haired youth then happily took a crunchy bite before noticing his audience.
Harry sputtered out chip fragments.
Uh, you've stuffed crisps into you sandwich, mate, Draco pointed out affecting bored disbelief.
Dumbledore said and began to push crisps into his own lunch.
Thank you Mr. Potter. The Headmaster will have something
new to show the staff when we return to Hogwarts, Snape said dryly. Lupin snickered.
As if peanut butter, sweet pickles and bananas weren't
enough, he chortled. Dumbledore smiled knowingly as he glanced at Snape. He was not the only one who liked such things.
The impromptu picnic continued with Dobby happily feeding the ravenous swimmers. Snape managed to fall asleep listening to the noise.
The following days were nearly carbon copies with Lupin swimming with the students and Snape bundled up on the warm sand. Dumbledore and the resident Healer would trade off staying near.
Towards the end of the fourth day James decided to take Snape for a short walk on the beach. He was pleased with his patient's relatively smooth gait and pace. Emotionally the Potions Master was not as fragile and had talked with Jeffrey about what had happened to him at Malfoy Manor in great detail.
It was near sunset on this day, walking back up the beach to the cottage, when a large albatross wheeled overhead before settling onto the rail of the deck. It patiently held out its leg allowing Snape to remove the light parchment attached to it. Barnes called to Dobby for raw fish.
Albus? Message from across the pond, Snape waved the parchment through the glass at his friend. The movement caused a flinch when pain shot up his hand. Barnes clucked and took the parchment in one hand, rubbing a healing warmth into the spasming fingers with the other.
I need to work some potions into your muscles before
dinner Severus, Barnes said quietly. His patient grunted in assent as they moved into the house.
The Headmaster plucked the message from Barnes' hand as they passed and opened it.
Ah, Lila has written! he explained as he followed the two down the hall and into the master bedroom. He didn't notice the glare or hear the exaggerated sigh from Snape as he submitted to the Healer.
She says that Sirius arrived yesterday morning with the
Order's messages, Dumbledore scanned the page.
Strange, he left nearly six days ago. He continued reading to himself, lips moving over various vowels and consonants.
Hmmm, he seemed to have a bit of a cold when he showed
up... Oh, sorry about that, Dumbledore startled and moved out of the way as James pulled Severus into the washroom.
Just a quick rinse off, Barnes said cheerfully. Snape snarled. What little privacy was afforded him had been lost as the door was left open to the hallway.
That and the folder was a bit mussed up, Dumbledore continued chuckling.
Ah, Lila, can't help being touchy about such things.
Ms. Johnstone is meticulous to a fault, Snape muttered as water flowed over his body. The Healer ran a quick soapy cloth over him removing sweat and oil.
There you are Severus. Nice and clean and ready for the
liniments, Barnes chirped.
Must you be so... so cheerful, Snape groused.
James? Certainly. That's part of his charm, Dumbledore said distantly as he reread the missive. He automatically stepped back as the Healer returned his patient to the bedroom, toweled him off and had him lay on his stomach on the bed.
I wonder if Remus knows where Sirius was planning to go
before porting to America, the Headmaster mused. The man so mentioned chose that moment to pop his head in the room.
Albus? Draco mentioned an albatross on the porch, Lupin said.
Oh joy, a peep show, groaned Snape as Barnes began to knead stiffened muscles.
All the good bits are covered, Barnes assured him.
Professor Dumbledore? a voice called out.
Back here, the Headmaster responded.
Bloody hell! Snape cursed as Harry and Ron entered the room. Not far behind was both Hermione and Draco.
There's an albatross on the railing but it doesn't seem to
have a message, Draco explained. All four students tried not to look at the Potions Master in his state of undress. What caught their attention were the silvery-white scars on his back. Dumbledore held up the parchment. Before they could begin their discussion Barnes took pity on his patient and herded the crowd out into the hallway firmly closing the door behind.
The mystery of Black's delay remained unsolved for nearly a week before an albatross arrived for Lupin. There had been a slight flush to his cheeks as he read bits of the note aloud.
Let's just say he found a more interesting proposition in
town when he arrived and leave it at that, Lupin finally folded the note and stuffed it in his pocket.
Ah, he happened to stop at the local watering hole for
some companionship then, Snape snidely remarked causing Lupin to blush all the more. Draco snorted.
randy bugger, the blonde murmured, receiving a shove from Ron.
Oy! Don't put Harry's Godfather down! the red head sniped. Draco was about to retaliate when Harry stopped it.
Ron, Sirius is randy, he grumbled.
Still, must have been some companion to keep him busy
five or six days, Snape mused. Normally Black changed partners daily; at least from his own observations.
Well, not that I've been around Seri much of late, but
he is a bit flighty. Although when he was younger he'd stick
with a girl for awhile, Lupin offered. Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes.
Two days, she grumbled and walked out of the room.
When is Professor McGonagall arriving? Jeffrey Barnes asked as he sat next to Snape placing a mug in front of his patient.
Tonight. Poor Ms. Granger has had to put up with the lot
of us. The sides will be more equal soon! Dumbledore said.
The scale will tip decidedly against us, grumbled Snape as he picked up the mug and sniffed.
When do I get to stop taking this stuff?
When I say so. At least another three weeks, Barnes said firmly.
And when do I get rid of my escorts? continued the grouchy man.
At least six weeks. You'll be staying up with Albus for a
few weeks once school starts, Barnes stated in a no-nonsense tone.
Yes mother, the sarcastic rejoinder dripped from Snape's lips.
gods, I'd hate to see you in a bad mood Severus, Lupin snapped. He was more than tired of the constant negative moods of the Potions Master. Draco nudged Harry and motioned with his eyes. Time to get Lupin out for a breath of fresh air.
Remus, you promised to show us how to fly kites today if
the wind were good, the Slytherin reminded the wizard.
It looked pretty brisk out there, Harry added innocently. Lupin chuffed, letting the tension out.
Ok you two! I know I'm in for it when the two of you get
together, Lupin said. Sorry Sev, I am a bit tired.
I understand Remus. No doubt you could tell I'm rather
exhausted myself, Snape said with a smirk.
You've been comatose, sir, Draco deadpanned causing several hastily covered snickers.
Mr. Malfoy! Away with you before I have you scrub
cauldrons! Snape threatened in his voice.
Another burst of snickering filled the room as the kite flyers trooped out. | dclm-gs1-011830000 |
It must be horrible when you suffer from Cliff-hanger suspense! Well, do not matter! You'll be facing many in the following story. From now, I'll be concentrated more in this story. HAPPY NOW? Oh and by the way, if you're a WWE and Kingdom Hearts fan, then you would love to read and review my story Wrestling Kingdom Hearts, and my other two stories, Yugioh: Necroshadows and Yugioh: Heart of the Cards. Anyway, read on…
Fanfiction High School
The truth is out there
The students looked at the figures. They were none other than famous duellists. The first one to catch the students' attention was a purple-yellow spiky-haired kid, with a chain around his neck, with a pyramid. He was none other than Yugi Mouto. The second one was a blonde haired kid named Joey Wheeler. Finally, the third one was a black and white spiky-haired kid named Shobu Kirifuda.
"Many of you might be wondering who we are! We're called the Master Duellists, and we're here to teach you all the art of a Duel! It's officially opened the Duel Club!" said Yugi.
"We can teach you Duel Monsters and Duel Masters! Just join the Duel Club! It's free for this school's students!" said Shobu.
"So if ya kids wanna kick some other duellists' butt, just join our club" finished Joey.
The three of them walked out of the cafeteria. Everyone went silent. Finally, they talked about the Duel Club.
"Of course I'm gonna join the club! Not only because it's free, but… well, mostly it's because it's free!" said Fireblade to Tony.
"Wow, having the King of Kings, the Kaijudo Master and the Legendary Wheeler as my teachers of Duel… I CAN'T MISS THIS GODDAMN OPPURTUNITY!" yelled Alter to Squirt's ears.
Squirt's years were ringing from that loud scream.
"PUMUNTA KA SA IMPYERNO!" said Squirt to Alter's ears.
"VAI TU ARDER NO INFERNO!" said Alter to Squirt.
They were both arguing really hard.
"Hey Darth, Tiny, could I talk to you in private?" asked Neros to Tinyrocket and Darth Ben Valor, who nodded.
The three went to the outside of the school, since they had a break. They then got to Fiction Town.
"Look, you two are my best friends, and I need your help!" said Neros to them, while the three of them entered in the Weapon Shop. Then, the owner of the shop, Elmer Fudd appeared.
"What would you thwee kids want?" asked Elmer, and then Joey appeared. "Hey kid, could you wait a second, pwease?"
"No prob, Elmer!" said Joey, and then he recognized the three kids. "Hey I know you three! You were at the Cafeteria when I entered with Yugi and Shobu!"
"Yeah, kind of! You're Joey, right?" asked Neros.
"Ya damn right I am! Are you thinking of joining Duel Club?" asked Joey, interested.
"Sort of, but how do we join?" asked Tiny.
"Jut sign our contract, and you'll be with us in no time!" said Joey.
Neros, Darth and Tiny were now walking out of the shop, while Joey was behind them. When Joey was about to leave the shop, Elmer pointed a Bazooka to him.
"You're not gonna steal my customers anymowe, am I clear?" said Elmer, and Joey slowly nodded.
At another part of the town, Fireblade was buying a deck of Duel Monsters cards, and a deck of Duel Masters cards. She then saw many powerful cards in her deck, and saw another card called Toon World.
"Toon World? What is this? Better ask Yugi!" said Fireblade, as she returned to school.
She then saw David, Seth and Arias whispering something. They entered in a bar called Time Beer. She decided to follow them, and hided herself behind an Arcade. They were now talking more silently.
"If the town knows what happened, then this town really knows how to disguise it! What the heck happened here?" asked Seth, really angry.
"I have a plan! At night, we shall see the Principal's diary. I know he wrote the secret in the diary!" said Arias.
"Looks like a good plan, but we don't know if the principal has a diary!" said David.
"I know that he has, because I saw him writing in a book, and he locked the book with a locker!" said Arias.
"Well then, Saturday night we go for the diary!" said Seth.
Fireblade had heard everything, and was now thinking about what they were doing.
"So the school is hiding a secret from the students, hum? Very interesting… very, very interesting…!" said Fireblade. "To know the secret myself, I'll have to secretly help them, so they don't get into trouble!"
Fireblade then got out of the bar. They then saw her getting out of the bar.
"Wasn't that Fireblade? It looked like her!" said Seth.
"Well, it should've been someone else! No one knows we're here!" said David. "We should get also back to school, it's almost time for our last class!"
At another part of the town were Alter, Orange Sora and Dr.Dude. They were talking about their fictions.
"My fictions are way better than your crappy stories!" said Alter to Dr.Dude.
"Oh yeah, well I've got more ideas than you, which means that the crappy stories are your fictions, not mine!" said Dr.Dude to Alter.
"Oh come on, you two! Everyone knows that my stories rule yours!" said Orange Sora.
Everyone started fighting, until they saw a graveyard. They looked back, and saw that their fight brought them to then end of the town. They red a sign saying "No-Return Hills". The famous place that protected the Graveyard from any kind of Grave robbers. They looked at the Graveyard. They entered in it, and saw many graves of famous people. One of them had a name. The name was Mariah Johnson. There was a picture of her in the grave.
"She was a beautiful woman! Even prettier than that OneShot teacher!" said Orange Sora, smiling.
Suddenly, they saw that her last job was written in the grave. They looked at it, but suddenly they heard a voice from the entrance of the graveyard. It was an old man with a grey moustache, a farmer suit and a shotgun. He was aiming his shotgun to the boys, and they stayed silently, looking at the man.
"What are you kids doing here? Do I need to blow up your head?" yelled the man, and the three boys just runned away to the town.
The man then walked to the grave of the woman the three boys were seeing, and tears ran from his eyes.
"If you were still here… God, why did you had to go, instead of me?" said the man, crying really hard.
At Fiction Town, everything was silent. The students had returned to school. Squirt and Tony were now in the classroom of their last class, waiting for the teacher and the rest of their fiends to arrive. Squirt then looked at the desk.
"Hey Tony, why don't we check out the teacher's desk?" asked Squirt to Tony.
A minute later, they opened the desk, and found a Love Letter.
"Great, the teacher's a maniac who's in love with somebody!" said Tony. "It's directed to… Mariah Johnson?"
To Be Continued
Finally finished, people. R&R… | dclm-gs1-011840000 |
Hello and welcome to what happens when National Geographic and the Turks get mixed up in my head. Most if not all of the stories will be based on facts about a certain predator with a bad reputation. I'm curious as to whether anyone will be able to guess the animal. The stories will follow the FFVII and FFVII AC timeline fairly faithfully most of the time but I won't promise that that will always be the case. Updates will happen sooner the more reviews I get, I need the guilt to motivate me.
As per usual, all characters are the property of Square Enix.
1. Play teaches Fighting Skills
-Others train their rookies with dead rounds. Not the Turks. They use live ammo. Otherwise, what's the point?
Theme song – When Worlds Collide by Powerman 5000
Elena's first thought after she heard the distinctive report of a gun being fired wasn't a thought really, but a reflex. Before her higher brain functions could kick in the hairs on the back of her neck were at full mast and she was dropping into a crouch. Not even a moment later she had found temporary cover behind a nearby car and took a precious second to breathe. He hadn't used a silencer, but in Wall Market on a Saturday night it was hardly necessary. It had been sheer luck that one of those rare split second silences had fallen right as he took the shot.
Elena assessed this information while straining for any sign of movement on the sniper's part. He was most likely on top of the hotel across the street. It was a squat ugly little building, but perfect for the purpose. Flat roofed, nondescript and filled with people who didn't care what the noises on the roof were, not to mention a commanding view of the street for at least a block in either direction. Not that the shooter would care if someone did report a disturbance, but still, why borrow trouble? Elena took a deep breath and scuttled into a nearby alley, pursued the entire way by carefully timed shots.
That must be Tseng.
Elena straightened as she ran through the alley, leaping over refuse and the occasional bum. There was a time when she would have wondered and worried about what was getting on her shoes, what that unique smell was and where she had lost her tie. At another time she might have listened to her bruised body's pleas for rest. But for now her concerns were as follows:
Staying alive.
Staying in one piece.
Avoiding the Turks for another… where the hell had her watch gone? Another half hour or so. However long it took to get to the safe house.
She came to an intersection and stopped abruptly. After peering at the dingy street signs and trying to cross reference those with what she knew about the area, Elena released a small sigh. Wall Market was a rat's nest best navigated by luck and landmarks to anyone not born and raised there. A person could wander around for hours, if not days, and never get where they wanted to go. Unfortunately Elena was running out of time. She cursed the murky light that made one rundown building look just like every other. Finally deciding to go west, she began a light jog in that direction. She wanted this over with. She wanted to go home, use the highest level Cure materia she could get her hands on and then take the longest shower in her life. Directly after that, she was going to sit down with a cup of hot cocoa and a piece of cheesecake. Screw what Mama said about a lady's habits, she thought grimly, tonight I eat in my bathrobe on the couch and with the TV blaring.
She almost ran into several passersby, too tired and too distracted to do much more than swerve and make a noise that could have been construed as apologetic. There weren't many people out this late so it was easy to slip into autopilot. Her focus sharpened immediately when she found herself faced with a broad chest that she seemed unable to maneuver around. Elena was out of it, but not so far gone that she didn't recognize when someone was moving to intercept her. She glanced around and understood the situation right away. The man she had almost run into and was currently backing away from had bad breath, yellow teeth and worst of all, two equally nasty friends. None of the idiots were being particularly subtle in their perusal of her and Elena was confused for a moment. Didn't they have any idea…?
No, no they didn't. She'd been a Turk for all of a week or so and it was unlikely that the news had filtered down here. Even if it had, the plate dropping was no doubt the more interesting news in most people's minds. The blue suit should have been a clue, but it was dark as sin down here and she hardly looked her best.
Tseng had ordered her to accompany Rude on a simple assassination in Wall Market. The target was old and sick, no real threat. It was just this side of a mercy killing, really. Elena never turned down a chance to shadow Rude and get into the field. She'd been so eager that she didn't question it when Rude had asked her for her gun after they left the car. Elena had handed it over without a word and turned to look at the building where the target was located. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she'd ducked instinctively.
She spun around to see Rude lining up for another punch. For a moment she stood frozen. It was enough for him to catch her in the stomach. She'd let the momentum carry her backwards in order to minimize the damage and then moved into a defensive stance and considered her options. Only two presented themselves. Fight or flight. After a couple of minutes she was down to one. Elena landed one hit right to his jaw and then turned and escaped through an alley, the first of many that night as it turned out.
It had taken him a few minutes, but Rude had somehow cornered her again, this time next to a bar. He told her that if she wanted to live she needed to get to an address she didn't recognize and go to apartment 27B. Elena wanted to stop and stare or ask him what the hell was going on but she didn't have time as Rude was still doing his level best to pound her into the wall. She bobbed and weaved as never before just prior to landing yet another haymaker on him, and took off running yet again.
Not ten minutes after that she'd dodged bullets fired from behind and to the left by ducking through yet another alley. Wall Market was a violent place, but Elena was not so hopeful as to assume anything but that those shots had been aimed at her. She decided it had to have been Tseng, and so it had gone for the last few hours. Rude, then Tseng, then Rude again, sometimes with barely a minute's pause in between. Sometimes she fought the Wutain hand to hand and Rude was the one shooting from rooftops or street corners. Generally though, each man had gone with their strengths. Rude all but turned her into a fine paste in close quarters, and Tseng took aim at her from a variety of roofs and corners.
Elena's world had shrunk to a series of fights and escapes in dank alleys, dodging passersby on narrow streets, and the sound of her own blood rushing in her ears. She was wet, tired and thirsty. She could literally feel bruises starting to form where Rude had landed hits, not to mention the flesh wounds in her shoulder and leg where Tseng almost didn't miss. In light of all this masculine attention, Elena felt she could be forgiven a lack of interest in the romantic prospects these drunkards had to offer.
She backed up slowly, shifting slightly so that her back was more or less against the flickering street light. Her admirers followed, moving into a loose ring and cutting off her chances for escape. Elena elected to start with the first man she had seen. He appeared to be the leader; if she could take him, it would hopefully throw the other two off.
"That's right, sweetie…" Her new suitor had evidently taken her silence for consent and chose that moment to lurch forward, arms wide. Too much thinking! Elena berated herself and swung into action. She lifted her arms and for a moment the man before her looked pathetically grateful. She caught a glimpse of his face as gratitude turned to confusion when, when a slight adjustment and twist to the side she sent him headfirst into the pole behind her.
She had no time to enjoy the rather satisfying clang as he made contact, because the man to her left was already aiming a fist at her head. She crouched and spun, aiming a foot at his knee. He was moving to fast for her to do much more then trip him, but that would have to do for the moment. She straightened up, facing the last man standing. He was about six feet away, having been the furthest from her in the first place. His face was twisted with anger and he held a switchblade in one hand. Elena watched him warily then glanced around briefly in order to take stock of the situation.
Lover boy number one was groaning, but showed no signs of imminent revival. Lover boy number two was rising slowly to his feet. Number three was calling her everything but a lady and advancing. Time for a bit of strategy.
She leapt forward and landed on the calf of number two's leg, driving her heel into the back of his knee as he braced himself to rise. There was a satisfying crunch as bone and tendon gave way and a pained shriek as number two went back down. Elena avoided a wild stab from number three and hauled ass down the street, her ears cocked for the sound of pursuing footsteps. None were evident, only pained cries. After a moment she dared a look back. Thank the Planet for back street loyalty. Number three was on his knees glaring after her as he held down a writhing number two. Number one had just sat up, holding his head.
Elena took the next available right. Number two was screwed unless one of his friends had a fairly high level materia on hand. Even if they did, she'd be at the safe house by the time they could collect the two wits they shared between them. She paused again at the next set of street signs, then took off again, trying to pace herself. Not long now.
Fifteen minutes later Elena was panting her way up a flight of stairs to the mysterious Apartment 27B that Rude had mentioned earlier, just before delivering a roundhouse that had damn near taken her head off. She made it to the second floor landing and paused for a moment to catch her breath …and the pain hit. She'd been struck just a minute or two after her would-be Romeos interfered.
She had an actual bullet hole in her, a couple inches over from her left shoulder. Four inches down and it would have been her heart. So much for the faint hope that her teammates weren't shooting to kill. Was it sick that she still found Tseng kinda cute, even though she was pretty sure he was the one that pulled the trigger?
Elena took a breath and moved forward, doing her best not to shamble. Having never been shot before, she could now say with certainty that it wasn't as bad as she'd feared. It wasn't the potential of the pain that had frightened her, but rather the idea that it would stop her in her tracks, that she would freeze up and become an easy target. Apparently the need to deny the shooter a second chance had outweighed the pain, and after a minute or two she could barely feel it. Good ol' shock, Elena thought and turned the doorknob of 27B.
The door squealed and Elena cast an annoyed glance at the hinges as she stepped in. She stopped immediately when she heard applause coming from the center of the room. Her eyes widened when she saw Reno sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room. A cigarette dangled from his lips and his EMR was balanced in the crook of one arm as he clapped. Elena's eyes automatically took in the little details of his appearance. The pale cast to his skin, the almost feverish look in his eerily green eyes and how close his smirk was to a grimace. Even his hair seemed somehow subdued. It was as weak as she'd ever seen him but Elena was in no way ready to write him off as harmless.
"Well hello there," Reno drawled, his voice rich with amusement. "Don't you look like hell, huh? Come in, shut the door. Rough night?"
Elena blinked. "You shouldn't be smoking," she said and then closed the door. She was tired and stressed so of course, the silliest, most trivial thing possible came out of her mouth. She found she couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed about it. She swayed for a moment as a wave of dizziness struck her, but she shook it off as best she could and turned back to find Reno watching her intently.
For a moment, Elena saw herself through his eyes. Covered in grime and her own blood, smelling of sweat and the back streets she'd been scurrying through for the past few hours. She looked at her hands and was faintly surprised at how truly filthy they were. Rude had gotten in a couple of glancing shots to her head, and the bruises were already blooming. She didn't even want to think about her hair.
"So, are we going to fight?" she asked, not bothering to mask her weariness. If this is some elaborate way to get rid of me, she thought, I hope it's quick; bleeding out seems a little anticlimactic after the rest of it.
"Do you want to?" Reno stood and cocked his head. He seemed to be genuinely curious about her answer. He took a step forward and Elena tensed, her hands clenching unconsciously into fists. Reno noticed and laughed softly. "You're just so cute…" he murmured and stepped closer. Elena backed up, keeping him directly in front of her. Reno smiled and made lazy motions in the air with his EMR. He seemed to be writing something. Elena eyes followed the fluid movements, losing her self in the loops and swirls. She shook her head to regain focus and found that Reno was only a couple of feet away. She pressed her back firmly against the door, hissing from the pressure on her wounds. Alright, fists up, focus on his weak spots... I might go down but I'll rip that fright wig off him first
The menacing crackle of electricity broke the brief stillness. Elena looked from Reno's lazy grin to the electrified rod in his hand and back. His smile was indulgent but his eyes dared her to try something… anything. For a moment, she debated just having a go anyway, but then his eyes hardened. Elena sighed and dropped her hands.
"Where are Rude and Tseng?" she said as the redhead continued to advance. "I would have thought they'd want to be here after all the work they put in." Reno said nothing, just stopped less then a foot from her, the EMR held so close to her neck that she could feel her skin start to tingle unpleasantly and her hair defy gravity. "Then again," she said, her voice admirably calm, her eyes on his neck, "This could be all for you…" She lifted her brown eyes to his green.
"Oh Laney," he sighed, his voice little more then a low purr. "You never really shut up do you?" His lips parted and revealing surprisingly sharp-looking white teeth. "You think this is all some sort of 'welcome back' party for me? Silly, stupid rookie." His tone made the words sound something like an endearment. "If this was all about taking you out, why would we bother chasing you through Wall Market? It's not like Rude couldna just shot you in the back." The EMR suddenly switched off. Elena released a relieved breath only to inhale quickly as Reno came even closer. She was immediately inundated with the scent of cigarettes, sweat and hospital disinfectant.
"We weren't sayin' goodbye, rookie," he purred. "We were sayin' hello."
Then he was gone, backing up to the center of the room and halting between Tseng and Rude. Elena watched them watch her. What had Reno meant, that they were saying hello? That this was… some sort of initiation? Her eyes widened as she looked from Rude to Reno and finally at Tseng, and focused her attention on him. He was completely impassive as usual; even Rude had seemed more welcoming.
"Sir?" Elena hated herself for allowing her voice to wobble. But she needed to know. To be sure. Tseng nodded once and Elena exhaled in relief, feeling the tension within her drain out in that one breath. Unfortunately, when the tension left, it took the adrenaline with it. Pain and exhaustion had been dancing around the edge of her consciousness for a while now and took this opportunity to come screaming to the fore. She dropped to her knees heavily, head bowed. Wasn't this the part where she was supposed to faint? She felt dizzy and nauseous and her shoulder hurt like hell, as if Reno was twisting his EMR into it… but not the slightest bit faint. Lovely.
She was only faintly aware of her teammates' approach. She brought her head up in time to see Tseng pull a potion from his pocket. He held it out, and after a moment's hesitation, Elena took it from him and drank it. A moment later she felt her flesh literally knitting itself back together. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, just odd. The whole thing took less then a minute.
She gingerly shrugged and grimaced a little, testing herself. Her bruises were much less painful, if not outright gone, and the bullet hole in her chest seemed smaller. The only thing that hadn't changed was the fact that she was totally exhausted. Potions might heal the flesh but they didn't do a thing for overexertion. Ah well, can't have everything. Elena leaned forward, braced her hands in front of her and stood, then promptly fell back against the wall. She straightened as best she could and schooled her features into a calm expression; she was pleased that her voice came out steady. "Are we still on for the scheduled assassination, sir?"
Rude snorted and Tseng's lips quirked. Reno laughed as he reached out and ruffled her hair, nearly knocking Elena over in the process. "Feisty little thing, ain't ya?" he queried.
"Rude will handle the assignment tonight," Tseng said. "Neither you nor Reno are in any shape to continue; I'll drive you both to the medical center. No whining, Reno. I promised them I would have you back in three hours, and it has been close to five."
Elena blinked at that, Reno's vocal complaint barely penetrating her shock. She moved away from the door and followed her co-workers out of the building, feeling like she was walking in a haze. She'd evaded two senior Turks for over four hours?
She'd navigated Wall Market by herself, in the dark, while being chased by two senior Turks.
She'd gotten shot and still managed to keep going.
"Close your mouth kid, you'll catch flies." Reno's sardonic comment snapped Elena out of her reverie. She sent him a dirty look, and he stuck his tongue out at her. She shook her head. He waggled his eyebrows. She sent him a scorching glare. She was so focused on Reno that she was taken completely by surprise when Tseng stopped in front of her, and she walked right into his back.
"Sorry sir," she muttered, shooting Reno another narrow-eyed glance. Resentment gave way to something like pity as she watched him slowly open the back door of Rude's sedan and crawl in. He more or less collapsed across the seats and lay still, only the faint movement of his back giving evidence that he still lived. Tseng moved around Elena and gently pushed Reno's legs the rest of the way into the car and closed the door, then moved to the driver's side. Elena carefully lowered herself into the passenger seat and exhaled.
"Sir?" she asked as Tseng started the engine. "How is Rude going to get back?"
"He has alternate means of transportation, Elena." Tseng said smoothly. "I'm sure you have some questions about tonight."
"No sir. It was a test. I understand sir." Elena's voice was soft. She was falling asleep.
"It wasn't just that, yo," Reno's voice drifted up from his prone figure; he sounded like Elena felt. Drained. "Tol' ya she never shuts up…" Apparently, he still had enough energy for a cute comment.
"Though it pains me to admit it, Reno is correct." Tseng's voice held a hint of something like amusement, but Elena didn't know him well enough to be sure. "Tonight was not just about testing your worthiness to be a Turk, although that was part of it. It was also a warning. Elena, are you listening to me?"
Elena jerked. She'd been just this side of sleep. Her body had stopped dumping adrenaline into her blood and the resulting weariness was overpowering. She found some reserve energy, took a deep breath and nodded in response to Tseng's question. The Wutain sighed softly.
"I'll keep this brief but you need to pay very close attention. Can you do that?" Tseng waited for Elena's nod before continuing. "Turks recruit other Turks. Heidegger may hire anyone he pleases, but you're not really a Turk until you've been tested by the senior members of the team. You performed well. This is not the last time you'll be… challenged by one, or all of us, but nothing like tonight. From now on anyone who attacks you like we did will be dealt with accordingly. We take care of our own. Any situation, any place, day or night. Remember that."
Elena decided she loved listening to her boss talk. His voice wasn't the deepest she had ever heard but it had richness to it and exuded calm. His next comment was delivered in the same almost conversational tone, so it took a moment for the full impact of what he was saying to penetrate her consciousness.
"Remember the feeling of being hunted by your own, Elena. Turks recruit other Turks, Turks test other Turks." Something infinitely deadly slipped into Tseng's tone and he took his eyes off the road just long enough to make eye contact. "Turks also end other Turks should the need arise."
Elena could only hold his eyes for a moment before she looked down at the armrest between them. She did not breathe again until she sensed that Tseng had swung his gaze away from her and back to the road a few seconds later. Elena faced forward and settled back into the plush upholstery with a soft exhalation. She felt a wave of pity for anyone who saw Tseng in full predator mode. There was no doubt that he was the alpha of this little band for a reason.
"Elena?" Tseng's voice held a hint of steel. Elena swallowed and looked at him. He wasn't facing her, but she had no doubt that he was aware of her every move.
"I understand sir. Thank you… I'll try not to disappoint you." She invested the quiet words with as much conviction as she could muster. They were the truth. She was committed, now more then ever.
"You won't Elena; I'm sure of it. Now get some rest. We'll be at our destination shortly." Tseng's voice was all smoothness again. Elena turned her face toward the window and watched the street lights go by. Before she knew it she was asleep.
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The air was hot and dry. It stifled all life and forced what was left into hiding. There was no refuge from the burning wind as it whipped through the desolate town. A lone figure walked barefoot through the deserted alleys, imprisoned by dilapidated wooden structures on either side. The dust swirled up from the barren earth in tiny whirlwinds to dance around his ankles. He was alone. He'd always been alone. He'd never known love, or the warmth of a mother's touch. From the moment he'd awoken to find himself in this place, this desolate hole on the peripheries of civilization, he'd fought to survive.
In the distance he could see what the others called Soul Society. It was rumoured to be a great city full of important people called Shinigami. He would sometimes sit and watch them wander in and out of their great white city wearing black robes. They looked proud and strong. He longed to belong to their world, but there was no place behind those perfect walls for one such as him. So unlike him, the buildings were tall and pristine. Their white walls reflected the bright sunlight and surrounded the city with an ethereal glow. They invited him in, taunted him with thoughts of what he could not have and what he would never know.
Gin they called him - the ones who stalked him through the streets pretending he was their prey. They taunted him with it as they beat him, laughing at the unusual silver colour of his hair. It bothered him at first, being beaten for no reason other than the fact that he looked different, but soon it too became a regular part of the life he didn't understand. With time he discovered ways to avoid the gangs and learned which alleys were safe to traverse along.
He'd learned the ways of the world quickly. He had to, for there was no one to teach him and he would have died otherwise. He was like a ghost, drifting from one place to the next as the mood struck him. He traveled with no one and needed no one. For the entirety of his short, traumatic life he'd been shown that there was no good in the selfish hearts of others. They weren't worth caring about or associating with. They disgusted him and he scowled at anyone who perchance happened to pass him by.
On this day he was in a particularly foul mood. His lunch had been stolen (again!) and his stomach ached from the blows he'd received trying to get it back. His hand rested overtop the tender, bruised skin of his gut and his young body stooped from the pain as he walked. He grimaced and blew his bangs out of his eyes with a great huff of breath. He wanted to stop and sit down but his feet urged him forward. They moved him farther and farther away from the shanty town, with its broken down houses, haphazard family units and roving thugs. It was no place for a child to be and he did not long for it even after leaving it far behind.
It took several days of walking before he was far enough. By the time his aching feet finally came to rest he was surrounded by nothing but rocky, barren terrain. Lifeless trees dotted the landscape here and there, their snarling branches twisting towards the sky, but apart from their rotting trunks there was not a spec of life to be seen. Even the ground was cracked and brittle, lacking life and water. Turning his eyes to the sky he noticed that though it was perpetually grey and bleak, not a single drop of rain ever spilt to the earth below. It puzzled him, but he did not bother to dwell on it. What did he care if it rained?
It was then that he heard soft muffled cries coming from a tiny depression nearby. Curious, he stepped towards the sound, experience warning him to be wary. As he crested to the top of the hill his eyes widened with surprise to see a young girl, alone like himself, and crying bitter tears.
He stared at her in fascination for some time before making a move to approach. He debated turning around and leaving her be. He had no need for a companion, much less a girl. She would only slow him down and create problems for him when he eventually returned to the village. He wanted to leave, willed himself to, but his stubborn feet refused to budge. They remained firmly rooted to the earth and would not go anywhere unless it was forward to her side. With a sigh of resignation he gave in and stumbled down the shallow embankment until he was standing in front of her.
Hearing his approach she sniffled and ceased sobbing. She turned her face upwards to peer at him curiously. Her eyes were sapphire blue and swimming with tears. A few escaped down her cheeks and tiny droplets clung to her lashes like dew drops to a spider's web. Gin held his breath. Her eyes were open and inviting. They didn't speak to him of malice or cruel intentions, merely a kind heart and a willingness to trust. She did not fear him, but did not make a move to approach him either. He stepped forward cautiously, approaching her as one would a frightened animal.
Though he didn't know her, he was overcome with a desire to shield her from the life he'd lived thus far. He couldn't bear to see the innocence he saw in her eyes, her blind faith in the inherent goodness of man, vanish like they had from his. He stopped in front of her and tilted his head to the side inquisitively. She looked hungry. Reaching into the inner folds of his kimono he retrieved a bread roll and held it out to her.
"Hungry?" he asked, his voice dry and tight. She nodded her head and with wide eyes snatched the offering from his hands. She devoured it quickly and when she was finished she beamed up at him, a warm and grateful smile. He returned the gesture easily. It was the first time he could ever remember smiling and was surprised his face knew what to do. That seemingly inconsequential moment, a simple smile shared between two new friends, would shape the course of Ichimaru Gin's life, though he couldn't possibly have known it at the time.
Author's Note: This is going to be a Gin and Rangiku fic. It's an introspective lead up to volume 20 (episode 62 of the anime series) where Rangiku tries to hold Gin back from leaving with Aizen. I want to try and explain why he did what he did and what their relationship is actually like since they don't get into it too much in the anime.
At the time this was written I hadn't read the manga yet (bad me! I know!) so if there are any inconsistencies because of that I apologize!
I'd love to know what you think about what I've written so far so please take a second to review. Thank you!! | dclm-gs1-011860000 |
Author's Note: This is a special Christmas present to all my Beetleborg fan friends on Facebook. Enjoy!
Christmas Comes to Hillhurst. Or: "Too Much Tinsel, Rags For Brains!"
"Grandma got runover by a reindeer. Walking home from our house Christmas eve. You can say-"
"Will you knock off that....that Chriswith singing?" Mums grumbled at the youngest Beetleborg as she began the hundredth rendition of the song since arriving at Hillhurst that morning. With no enemies to fight while Les Fortunes was on strike due to the holiday and no school, hero and monster alike had time on their hands.
"Listen to him, leedle morsel," Fangula advised. "The life you save may be your own."
Jo huffed and threw herself into an armchair. "What a bunch of Scrooges you guys are. Didn't you learn anything from last year? Look at this place. No lights, no tree. Not even any presents.
"Ah and now ve arrive at ze crux of ze matter," Flabber morphed into Sigmund Freud and looked over his spectacles at the young girl. "And vhat are you expechting under za tree, mein fraulein?"
"Think coal," Little Ghoul advised as she walked by. "Lots and lots of coal."
Jo stuck her tongue out at the only person in the house smaller than her. "C'mon, we did much better with this last year, remember? For the first time in forever, we don't have a crisis staring us in the face. It'd be nice if we could just...have fun. Y'know?"
Drew and Roland, who up until now had been silent looked at each other uneasily. Jo was usually a cheerful girl with the strength and bravery of a platoon of marines but this past year with her strange transformation at times she seemed even to her brother and best friends almost unrecognizable.
Even the usually oblivious monsters shifted around, uncomfortable with all this human emotion. Even they could tell the girl was depressed and trying to guilt them into celebrating the peculiar holiday. Again.
"Hey, kiddo, be fair." Mums spoke up "We didn't have Christmas in ancient Egypt." . The mummy began ticking off his native holidays off his decrepit had...uh...the Festival of Bastet, where gave milk to all the cats and Ra's Day, where we all got tan...."
"These new holidays, with their cheer and their crosses..." Fangula groused and shivered. "Goodwill. Acting nice. You forget, ve are monsters after all."
Flabber was of course the most susceptible to Jo's sad pretty face and was the first to give in. Some strange Phasm paternal instinct no doubt. "Don't look so glum, sugar plum. We'll help you with your...Christmas?" At Drew and Roland's nod he turned into a giant police whistle and summoned the other monsters.
"What you do?" Frankenbeans wandered out of the attic.
"Arooo?" Wolfie seemed curious.
"Flabber caved, the little rugrat is dragging us into her holiday cheer."
Drew spoke up. "First, we need a tree."
The monsters collectively groaned and crossed their arms in a futile refusal to participate. Little Ghoul decided to take a golden opportunity to cause mischief.
"I think we should go along with Schmo-"
"Jo!" the littlest Beetleborg corrected, annoyed.
"Whatever, and try out this human holiday thing."
"We did this LAST year and only because Big Blue cast a spell on us!" Mums informed her sarcastically.
"So? What's your point?"
"The point is, you microscopic annoyance, that VE will not be tricked into doing it THIS year!" Count Fangula did his best to look superior and glared down at the smaller monster as if challenging her to disagree. That was a mistake.
"Oh..." Little Ghoul grasped the sides of her hood with her tiny hands. "Then maybe you'll be....SCARED INTO IT!"
Human and monster alike fled in terror of the sight of the creature's true face and Little Ghoul laughed in vicious delight at her housemates' fear.
After scrambling to find disguises for everyone and Flabber summoning a minivan to transport them all, the strange group made their way towards Charterville.
Mums hadn't quite given up. "Don't know why we have to buy a tree. There's trees all over Hillhurst. Grab one of those."
Roland rolled his eyes, his gaze never leaving the road as he advised a nervous Flabber on driving. "Mums, there's a big difference between a tree in the yard and one you put in your house. Trust me."
"This is stupid," Fangula grumbled as Little Ghoul accidentally on purpose elbowed him in the face after they'd forced her into a carseat.
"What does this Christmas tree even look like?" Little Ghoul asked, looking petulant.
"Never seen one before?" Drew asked.
"Well, be prepared."
The ghoul seemed confused. "For what? A fight?"
"Nope." Drew actually smiled. "For the arguing. This could take a while."
"Frank like little tree!"
"Come on, Frankie, it's two feet tall!"
"Pretty tree!"
"It's not a bad little tree," Roland wrapped a tattered blue blanket around the base of the tree, causing all of the needles to fall off. "On second thought..."
I think we better scram, Frankie."
Fangula's eyes lit on the first tree he saw. "Let's get this one." Flabber shook his head. "Sorry, Fangie. The back is all messed up."
Fangula crossed his arms and tried to look commanding. "We are taking this tree. It has...character...."
"Character is for people, old buddy. We're talking about a tree."
"Arrrooo rawrrr riiiiiii!"
"Wolfie! NO! That's not what these trees are for!"
"We should have brought a leash for him."
"Found one!"
"Great! Let's get outta here." Mums seemed uncharacteristically nervous." That old lady is looking at me funny."
"Agreed," Count Fangula shivered and not from the cold. "Stakes are made from trees. There are enough trees here to take out half my family! On my father's side, at least..."
Little Ghoul glared at him and waved at something over his shoulder. "Hello again, Norman Nussbaum!" she called, laughing as the vampire dived under a car.
" do we get it home?"
"Duh. Tie it to the roof of the car."
"Shouldn't we just tie it through the window?"
"What? And drive back to Hillhurst with the windows down? We'd all get bugs in our teeth!"
"Some of us like bugs, human. You're BEETLEborgs, after all. You should be more insect friendly!"
"Hey! Careful, Drew! People will notice a floating tree!"
"Whoops. Sorry, Roland."
Under normal circumstances it would have taken several people to wrestle the large tree into the mansion but having one person with super strength and her telekinetic brother solved the problem easily.
The monsters stood around to admire the little humans' handiwork until Jo glared at them. "Well? What are you standing around here for? Let's get decorating!"
No one but the humans and Flabber moved to help her until she cracked her knuckles meaningfully.
"She's not gonna just let us sit and relaxing over our spider cider, is she?" Mums muttered to no one in particular.
"No," the others groaned and shuffled off to find what decorations they had. Roland smiled and shook his head. "I can tell you one thing. We're going to need more lights."
"This strand isn't working."
"So? Which light isn't working?"
"Hey, I'm a telekinetic, not a psychic. Check them all."
"Who has time for that? Just get a new strand."
"Thanks for the help, Mums."
"No problem."
"You can't have two green ornaments together, Frankie. You need another color in between."
"Oh. Frankie sorry."
"Careful, now, don't hold them so...tight." Roland watched in dismay as the glass ornament turned to powder in Frankenbeans hand. "Oopsie."
Roland sighed. "It's fine. Why don't you string the popcorn?"
"Frankie LIKE popcorn!"
Roland tried to smile. "Great."
"Hey, the lights are working!" Jo exclaimed and then watched in dismay as one exploded. "Darn!"
"Plenty of lights to go around, pilgrim."
Fangula sighed as he hung garland from the banister. "Why can't Flabber just use his magic to do all this?"
"Because part of the fun of Christmas is..." Drew stopped and stared up at the garland. It was black. With little silver bats. "Fangula, I'm not too sure that's right for Christmas."
The vampire seemed very proud of himself. "I think it looks better than that those horribly cheerful colors."
"Only if you're decorating the Grim Reaper's house."
The boy felt rather than saw the aforementioned creature appear behind him. "You have something against my house...mortal?"
"You know, Fang? On second thought, it's fine."
"Quit stepping on the lights!"
"Arrro rarrrr!"
"Love you too, Wolfie."
"The popcorn goes on the string, not in your mouth, Frankenbeans."
"Try putting some up higher."
"Now only the red ones are working!"
Meanwhile, Little Ghoul and Mums were arguing.
"You're using too much tinsel, Rags For Brains!"
:"How would you like this tinsel shoved up your nose?"
Roland overheard and shook his head. "So much for peace on earth."
"Hey, all the lights are working!" Jo exclaimed happily before all the lights in the building went out. "Oh, great."
"Hey no problem!" Flabber now wore a pair of blue overalls and a thick Brooklyn accent. "We'll get ya up and runnin' in no time. It's probably just ya fuses. I'll take a look." Sure enough, the lights came back on just in time to stop Fangula from snacking on Drew. Jo cracked her knuckles again and he backed off, disappointed.
Flabber decided to break the tension by morphing once again into his chef's attire. "Say! You all must be starving from all this hard work. Why don't I go into the kitchen and whip up something delicious?" Without waiting for an answer he sped off Warner Brothers style.
: "Me have present!" Frank stumbled his way towards Jo and proudly put a battered parcel in her eager hands. She unwrapped it happily and stared at the contents. "Coal." She looked up into the monster's expectant face and managed a weak smile. "Um..I'll treasure it."
"Aaaaand we're done!" Roland added the last ornament and stood back, satisfied.
"Still too cheery," Mums looked up at the tree and frowned. "Hey, isn't there something missing?"
"Yess..." Count Fangula agreed. "Some sort At the top of the tree. Now, what did we do vith it?"
"Grawwwhrrr!" Wolfie told him. Fang looked at his housemate with mild dismay. "You did what?!"
Wolfgang whined and produced a chewed up Christmas star which he laid at Jo's feet. She nudged it back in the werewolf's direction. "That's ok. You can keep it."
"Roooo!" Wolfgang agreed and put it back with his belongings.
Something occurred to Jo. "I have an idea," she said and removed the large lump of coal out of the box. She squeezed it between her hands until..."
Roland and Drew were visibly impressed. "Bravo!"
:Jo smiled proudly as she looked at her newly created diamond.
"Now THAT is a Christmas star!" Mums said.
"Sparkly!" Frankie agreed.
Flabber emerged from the kitchen where he had been creating snacks for everyone and listened to the good natured (and not so good natured) bickering. The Phasm stood in the doorway of the living room, the tray in his hands all but forgotten as he looked at the strange yet heartwarming scene. Little Ghoul and the Grim Reaper were exchanging presents and insults in the corner while the rest of the monsters and their human friends stood looking at the Christmas tree. For once, no one tried to eat anyone else as they stared up in awe at the tree. Lights and garland of every description hung from the walls and the human children were teaching the Hillhurst residents to sing "O Christmas Tree" and smiled when Frankie and Wolfie made an honest effort to be intelligible. Everything was peaceful as his supernatural and mortal companions stood together in fellowship. He knew tomorrow the monsters would try to attack the trio again and the young humans would be risking their lives fighting evil but for now, he'd enjoy today.
Flabber took a deep breath and blinked rapidly to keep the tears of joy at bay. "Okay! Who's hungry?"
The End | dclm-gs1-011870000 |
Kitsune and Genjutsu Mistress
Kurenai Yuuhi, age 30, Jounin was better known as the Ice Queen of Konoha. She was renowed as one of the most beautiful among the women in the village with raven colored hair and ruby red lips and eyes. Her figure was also an object of lust and desire with long nice legs, slim figures, and sizable chest. It was these looks and her professional nature that prevented her from meeting a decent guy who didn't think with his lower head or respected her as a kunoichi.
They were either scumbags, perverts, taken, about to be taken, gay or enemy Shinobi. She had just turned thirty and wasn't getting any younger when the desire to find love struck her. She had never gave it much thought until recently. When she entered the academy at eight she inspired to be a great kunoichi like her mother. As she hit twelve she found she was gifted in Genjutsu and that became her field of expertise. She knew she made mistakes along her way with the incident with Yakumo being one of the biggest but that didn't mean she was a bad person.
Lately she yearned to be loved and soon wanted a child that came with that. None of the men even her closet friends could fit the bill. Kakashi was a pervert and way too aloof for the type of role model she had in mind not to mention there wasn't any spark between them. Asuma was the most likely candidate, but his addiction to Tobacco along with his interests of one of the young (Mid twenties) Yamanka maidens squashed that. Gai was a little too hyper and upbeat for her taste. The other male candidates were either too young and immature or far too old.
''Konnichiwa,'' She heard as she was roused from her thoughts. There before her stood her savior all those months ago Uzumaki Naruto. It wasn't that she didn't need saying per say, but Naruto was the type to rush in with a big damn heroes moment when he thought his friends were in danger. ''Kurenai-san? What are you doing here?'' He asked her as she just blinked.
''I was just thinking…what are you doing here?'' she responded with a friendly smile.
''Walking and observing nature…it's quite peaceful…I have to go meet Anko in a few minutes for training so I thought I take in all the peace I can before the havoc and chaos that she is sets in,'' He said as he looked up to the sky.
Kurenai nodded in understandment. Anko could be loud and boisterous, not to mention with scary at times, but it was her defense mechanism to keep people from getting too close to her. She heard him sigh and he looked down. ''I better go…it was nice seeing you for a bit…maybe we can have a conversation next time.''
''Hai…I would enjoy that,'' She said as he left.
That After noon
A pissed off Anko came storming by what looked like to be chocolate covering her all over.(Read the other one-shot Fox and Snake if you haven't first to understand more of this one-shot) She heard curses and muttering about a blonde and concluded it had something to do with Naruto. Soon enough she found him unconscious in a crater and sighed. She turned to leave figuring the blonde deserved it, but for some unexplainable reason she stopped and decided to help him. It was a one in a million occurrence but it was his lucky day she concluded.
Next Day
Kurenai yawned and stretched as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She put on her house shoes and went to check on her 'patient' to see the guest room empty. She got a whiff of food and followed the smell to the kitchen to see Eggs, Bacon, Fried Rice, and Steamed Octopus…it would be a meal unusual to most but Kurenai loved sea food especially Octopus. She then found a note.
'Thanks for the healing touch Kurenai-san…maybe you should learn some things for Tsunade-Oba…I'm sure others wouldn't mind your healing touch…this is my way of thanking you…until next time…Your favorite Kitsune.'
She wasn't sure how but the next thing she knew she was blushing. A mere teen made Konoha's coldest woman blush with a few words…she wasn't sure what to do but she did know she was going to torture him a bit for his suggestive Innuendo in the message.
A couple of weeks later
She found herself running into Naruto quite often nowadays. The two of them would just chat about things. He would also come over to be patched up after a training session with Anko or two. After hanging out with him they developed a brother-sister like vibe and they would often tease each other like siblings. She was called into the Hokage's office and was given a mission that required her services. Naruto was her partner for this mission and it was during this she saw the other side of him. Something about seeing how he was out of Konoha made her think of things.
''Hey Kurenai-san can I tell you something without you taking it the wrong way?'' He asked her as she took a moment to think about it.
''Depends…if it's perverted I'm going to have to hurt you…'' she threathened with a teasing smile.
''It's not.'' he wearingly insured her.
''Shoot then.''
''To be honest I think you;re beautiful and don't interrupt…'' he quickly added, seeing she was about to respond. ''You're more then beautiful in face; you're strong not just as kunoichi, but in character as well and well I've given it some thought lately of just what kind of woman I like. You probably don't remember but you were only of the only people who gave me a hug. I remember it because it was my fifth birthday. And well I know there's this age difference and all but I was wondering...'' he shook away the thought. '''What am I saying? Oh kami what was I thinking I'm sorry I'll just go,'' He started to say until both his hands were clasped by Kurenai.
''Don't be silly…I think it's kind of sweet…you're a great guy,'' She said as she looked into his eyes as her cheeks started to twinge in pink.
''And you're a great woman…I know this is unconventional but I felt like I really got to know you these past few weeks and I would really like to take you out on a date.''
''Naruto…as flattering as that is I…''
''You're not going to give me that whole age difference gush are you? Were both adults with a career that can end our lives at any time and both deserve a little happiness…at least spend some more time with me before you make your decision.''
Kurenai sighed, but decided one date wouldn't hurt. ''Ok…fine…but if things don't work out we'll stay friends at least.''
''I wouldn't have it any other way.''
The next few months flew by like a weekend. After Naruto was promoted to Jounin the two started working together as they proved to be a fatal combination. Since Kurenai was an Genjutsu expert and Naruto heavily used Ninjutsu with some Taijutsu they covered the other's weaknesses on missions. They also spend some more time doing casual things.
One morning Naruto invited Kurenai early in the morning to see something only to be amazed that a waterfall was in the training grounds of his family compound and was amazed at the site. She discovered a side of Naruto she never knew existed and couldn't help but slowly began to fall for him. Soon enough the two started dating and it finally came upon the day they met. His birthday October the Tenth. Kurenai knew Naruto didn't have many good memories of that day so she decided to do something special with him that particular day.
The two had been celebrating Naruto's birthday with the others and a bit of drinking occurred. The two felt a bit buzzed and even the cold night's Air wasn't enough to completely sober them up. Kurenai invited Naruto inside since it was so late at night.
She led Naruto into the bedroom. It didn't take long as the two found them selves on Kurenai's bed. Suddenly they were all over each other kissing and clawing at the other. Kurenai had left her bedroom door open so the cool night air slicked over their skin as they shuttered.
His cock was twitching to life, his heart throbbing with it. She gave him a sweet smile, lowering her eyes to watch it fill. It was then Kurenai made the first move.
Her hand circled the base of his cock, slowly gripping it and making stroking notions causing the blond to arch against her gentle touch.
Her stroke from the base to tip and back again had him gripping the sheets. Then her tongue had gently brushed against against the tip sending desire and desperation coursing through his body as her other hands stroke the patch of skin between his thigh and his shack. He let loose an audible grown as her mouth finally claimed him. His hips threathening to jerk with each movement of the tongue the older woman made. Her touch bringing him closer to the peek as as his half lidded eyes were stuck between opening all the way in shock or closing and relinquishing complete control. Finally after what seemed like an eternity his body returned control to him after he reliquinshed himself into her mouth.
He watched her lift a finger and wipe a smear of semen from her lips as she gulped. Naruto left out an impressed exhale. Yuhi Kurenai wasn't like a lot of these unexperiences girls of his generation. She was a woman of moderate experience who was comfortable with her body and knew what she liked and didn't like in need. After such an amazing experience Naruto decided to return the favor so this time Kurenai found herself on her back.
Naruto spent a few moments gazing at the pinkness of Kurenai's lips. The trim of her hair, his fingers trailing along her long and fit legs. Naruto decided to dive in, tongue first, teasing those lips as his hands began massaging her breasts. Kurenai's pleased moans only intensified after moments of searching and trying different things the blond finally found a combination of licking and groaping that sent pleasure coursing through the woman. Naruto figured she was getting close when she went from clutching the sheets to forcing his face in deeper with her hands as she bucked against his face. The exotic sounds and cries filled the room along with the heat that soon drawfed the chilly night air of the open window.
Naruto lapped up her juices the best he could but some had spilled until the fabric of her sheets. Deseperate kisses captured eachother's lips as Naruto easily slipped inside the woman's wet walls. True she wasn't a virgin, but she was plenty tight, a snug fit, soft and comforting like velvet. He pulled out and sunk back in as her body writhed under him. Determination filled in his face as he tried to think about other things like his registration number and sport games to prevent himself from cumming to early. Though when she tightened he found his senses assaulted with spasms that even his control was useless against. His name repeatedly coming from her mouth was an erotic mantra that seemed to tingle both his ears and cock.
Not too much longer he came just that quickly, his body affording him only enough warning to slick deep into her until his hips quieted, and the spasms stopped.
Naruto rolled over, far more exhausted then he had been in weeks, but the sultry look in Kurenai's look told him they weren't done quite yet. What soon followed would be better known as the day Naruto came closet to dying from chakra exhaustion. | dclm-gs1-011880000 |
Title: Just in Time
Author: Lisa
Email: lisacheerio_85@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: If there's any lawyers out there, reading these, who think they've got a case, I have six words for you, my darlings: You're a loser. Get a life. He. He. He. (I mean, as if you'd want to sue a schoolgirl?)
Author's Note: This is set as if Collette and Hollister never happened. Yay!
If the first few pages offend anyone, I am supremely sorry and I just want you to know that the content of discussions between Angie and Danni are not my personal opinion of the matter. I'm an open-minded gal, so please, don't take anything to heart!!!
Also, I know these characters end up in hospital every time, but where else are they gonna go?
Thanks: Everyone, really. Especially everyone who has written to me and said how much they enjoy reading my stories. It really lifts me, guys. Ta.
"That's disgusting!" Danni exclaimed, exiting the public showers. "I swear, after this I'm never going in one of those things again!" Angie broke into fits of laughter as Danni looked up, annoyed.
"I mean it Ang, this is the worst assignment I've ever been on. How can Mac send us undercover as homeless people? It's ridiculous!" Angie controlled herself.
"At least she sent us under together!" Danni looked up at her, brushing gunk off her jeans. "Yeah, I guess."
Danni and Angie went to sit on a nearby park bench. A young family was walking their dog and visibly moved away from the two "homeless drug addicts" as they passed. When they were enough of a distance away, Angie and Danni started laughing again.
"I must admit, this is horrible," Angie said. Danni just nodded. They had been undercover for a week now, living in a communal centre that cost no more than five cents a day. Their task was to keep an eye on a guy called Robbo. He was a suspect in two murders of young, blonde, homeless girls.
"Why did they send us in anyway?" Danni asked Angie. "I mean we're definitely not young girls. The two victims were no older than seventeen." Angie thought, brow creased. "Well, they can't send in teenagers, and I guess we're the closest to the profile." She paused. "I talked to Robbo's friend last night..." Danni turned, shocked.
"What did he say?" Greg Harris was Robbo's best mate, but denied any knowledge of the actions Robbo had been accused of.
"Nothing really. He did try to crack onto me..."
"Oh, my, God, Angie!" Danni tried not to laugh again. They weren't taking this case seriously, and they should be, but everything just seemed so damn funny.
"Angie," she continued. "He's gross!" Angie nodded.
"Don't worry. I implied, that I...well, you know...hang with the other crowd..." Danni looked at her, once again shocked.
"Angie, did you happen to imply that I was your...uh, partner?" Angie shook her head. "No, you're straight." Danni took all of this in, smiling. She pointed at Angie.
"I just...hah! I can't believe you told him you were..." She became serious. "I mean you are so not!!!" Angie shrugged. "Yeah, but it'll keep him off my back."
"Come on," Danni said, putting an arm around Ang. "Let's go back to our hell hole and try to get some sleep."
Angie and Danni walked down one of the main roads in the city. It was late afternoon. A car was slowly following them down the road. Angie and Danni didn't quicken their pace. In fact, they slowed down.
"So," Angie said, smiling. "How slow can you walk before you stop all together?" Danni grinned, casting a glance over her shoulder. "I don't know..."
"Hey, girls, move your buts and get into this car!" Ang and Danni turned, laughing at Oscar, who was leaning out the car window, frustrated. The two of them were having the time of their lives on this case, while Pete, Mac and himself were sweating in out doing actual work.
Danni and Angie walked over to the car. "How much you asking?" They said loudly. People walking past cast strange and dirty looks at them as they hopped into the backseat. One man, walking past, yelled at Oscar, "Bit greedy there, mate? Two at once!" Oscar pulled away from the curb angrily, as Ang and Danni broke into fits of laughter.
They were still laughing as they got out of the car at the factory. They stopped suddenly, eyeing each other as Pete and Mac emerged. Ang and Danni stood either side of the bonnet of the car, two hands laid evenly on the warm top.
"I've got it!" They yelled in unison, bolting for the shower. There was a struggle at the door, and amidst laughter, Angie burst through and slammed the door in Danni's face. "If you take more than ten minutes, I'll kill you!" Danni yelled through the door, only to be answered by the sound of running water.
She turned, walking back to where Oscar was informing Mac of their antics. Mac looked steadily at Danni, but it was hard to take her seriously, the mess she was in.
"Danni, do you actually have any information?" Danni paused, thinking. "Yeah, this morning, we talked to them. Robbo and Greg. Robbo said that he had seen a few younger girls around. Said there were a lot of them out there. And then," she paused, handing the tape of the conversation over to Mac. "Then he said that all they really needed was someone to take care of them. To really love them and look after them." Mac shook her head.
"Not enough, Danni..."
"Yeah, I know, but I think he wants to tell someone. What is it that he needs to say?" she asked. Mac went over the case in her head.
"He needs to say that he killed those girls..."
"You'll never get him to admit it, Mac-"
"He will if you get him angry enough. Make him feel small or something, so that he will boast about his 'accomplishments' to you. That should do it. Of course, if he hasn't already spilled the beans in his room, we haven't checked those tapes yet." Danni nodded as Angie emerged in warm, clean clothes. As Danni left for a shower, she said, "Oh, Ang, I forgot to tell you that I met this girl at the commune this morning." She walked over to Ang, whispering in her ear. "She thinks you're hot!" Danni started laughing. Angie slapped her on the arm.
"Danni, that's an insult to everyone who really is! I did it to cover my arse, so just go and have a shower and that's the end of it, okay?" Danni's brow creased.
"What? It's not like you know anyone who really is?" Angie turned back to Danni.
"Yeah, actually, my best friend before I joined this unit was. So, no more, okay?" Danni nodded, back peddling and making her way to the shower.
Angie turned back to Mac, Pete and Stone.
"Don't ask," she stated, looking at them carefully. They nodded, not wanting to upset Ang any further.
"Okay," Angie continued. "So we're going back tonight?" Mac nodded.
"I'm afraid so, Ang. I'm really sorry about all of this..."
"No, no, Mac. It's fine. It's actually pretty fun. A little gross," she said, smiling. "But everything's going pretty well." Mac nodded, a smile forming on her face as well.
Danni and Angie sat alone on the park bench, waiting. Rob and Greg had taken them to a local fish and chip shop for an early lunch, and were now having a private talk some metres away.
Mac had rung Angie and Danni just before they had left. They had transcribed the tapes from Rob's room, and had come up with enough evidence to convict him of the murder. Apparently, Rob had confessed to Greg, who hadn't been very happy about things, and a fight had started. During the fight, Mac said that Rob revealed information that he could only have obtained if he had been present.
Angie looked over to where Rob and Greg were once again talking animatedly. Rob walked off, seething mad. Greg shook his head, coming back to Angie and Danni.
"What's going on?" Danni asked.
"Nothing. It's just that..."
"Go on, tell us," Angie urged. Both Angie and Danni were wired, and they needed to know whether or not Greg had been involved in the murders.
"It's just that Robbo, he murdered those girls. Did you hear about them?" Greg looked up, rage showing through his eyes. "I'm so f*****' angry at him!!" Danni cast a glance at Angie. This was a side of Greg they hadn't seen before.
"We're thinking of moving on," Angie explained to Greg and Rob.
"Why?" Rob asked.
"No reason, really. We're just bored here," Danni stated matter-of-factly. They swung around in their chairs as two uniformed officers and Hollister approached them.
"Robert Quinn?" they asked. Rob stood defensively.
"Mr Quinn. You are under arrest for the murder of Rebecca Adams and Elise Nugget. You have the right to remain silent..." As the officer continued, Greg stood in his friend's defence.
"You can't do this, mate! He didn't do anything!!" Angie looked up at the officers.
"Will you need us for questioning?" Hollister, knowing exactly who they were, answered. "No, I don't think so. We've got this one all wrapped up."
An hour later, Angie and Danni said goodbye to Greg. He was extremely mad, something inside him must have just cracked, Danni thought to herself. As she and Angie stood, Greg caught sight of a tape recorder tucked neatly inside Angie's jeans. He could only see the top half, but the record button was definitely pressed. Angie brought her jacket over her chest, blocking his view, and he looked at her, putting things together. Angie smiled at him.
"See 'ya, Greg," they both said cheerfully as they left the commune. Greg waited thirty seconds before following them.
"Poor Greg, though," Angie said. "He really had no part in it. Lost his best friend." Mac smiled slightly. Danni looked at her strangely.
"Ang, he was a fruitcake. Happy one minute, raging the next."
"And," Mac added. "Quinn's been saying the two of them have done assaults together. He'll be brought in for questioning as soon as possible."
"So," Pete asked, changing the subject. "What are you girls doing tonight?" Mac looked at him, smiling.
"I know what you're doing tonight, Mac," he replied, grinning.
"Oh, you do not!" Mac exclaimed, however a small smile remained on her lips.
Angie butted in. "Well I'm going to have a nice, long shower, and go to sleep in my nice, warm bed."
"Here, here!" Danni added cheerfully.
As Angie grabbed her bag to leave, Oscar walked up to her.
"Feel like some company tonight?" he asked. Angie looked up, smiling.
"Sure. How much are you asking?" Oscar smiled.
"I don't know. A bottle of wine. Dinner. Nothing Mac and Pete wouldn't do." Angie laughed.
"We're not going there, Stone." He laughed as well, slapping her on the shoulder. They didn't know for sure Mac and Pete did do anything, but they had their fun. "Yeah, definitely. I'll see you at eight?" She nodded, smiling to herself as Oscar walked away.
Greg kept driving as Marie, or whoever she really was, pulled into her driveway. He did a u-turn further up the street and parked across the road. He watched her turn on lights inside the house, completely unaware that he had been following her since she had left the commune.
He had followed her to some form of warehouse or shed. A hideout, he had thought to himself. He knew she and her friend were cops. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. They had spied on Rob, on him, and then gone back to the station and given them all the information. Rob had tried to blackmail him. He had said that if the cops caught him, he would tell them everything they had done together, most of which had been Greg's idea. They were going to keep it quiet, and now these stupid bitches had made his plan impossible. He hadn't murdered the girls of course, hadn't even known, but there had been other attacks, incidents.
He felt the anger welling up inside of him. He checked the knife held securely in his jacket, smiling to himself. This was going to be fun. He had never done it to a pretty, blonde copper before.
Danni arrived home. She sat down and turned on the television. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep on the couch, not to wake up until the phone rang later that night.
Angie stood in the shower, letting the warm water fall over her. Marvellous, she thought. Finally, I'm home. She really hadn't enjoyed staying in the community centre as much as she had alleged. It had been dirty, crowded. Ang was just glad she didn't live like that every day. She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her face.
Greg opened the front door slowly. He could hear the shower running. Stuck up cow, he thought. Couldn't wait to get home and wash all our dirty germs off of her. She must be congratulating herself, Greg thought. She got a good result. Well, almost. He took out the knife, making his way down the hallway.
Oscar got back into his car, after purchasing two bottles of wine. He checked his watch. He would be early, but he didn't think Ang would mind. Or would she, he thought. Stone decided to sit in his car for ten, fifteen minutes, just to give her a little more time. She'll probably spend an hour scrubbing herself clean, he thought with a smile as he turned on his car radio.
Angie had her back to the shower curtain, so she didn't see the door open and Greg slip in. The room was filled with steam. Angie started to hum. She wondered how long until Oscar got there. He was usually early or unexpected. Ang had a sudden feeling of anticipation, which she hadn't felt in a long time. Stop it, she told herself. It's just a drink with Oscar, your friend, nothing more. Still, Angie was glad he was coming over. She couldn't wait.
Angie gasped as the curtain was drawn back and she was pushed forward, hitting the ceramic tiles of the shower wall. She reached up, searching for something to cling to, but the walls were slippery. She tumbled to the floor, water hitting her like tiny bullets. A knife was held to her neck as she gasped for air amongst the running water.
"Greg," she managed as he viciously rolled her onto her stomach. He placed a foot on her back as he turned off the water. She squirmed underneath him, but he only pressed harder, forcing her to cry out in pain.
Shit, Angie thought. No! She pushed herself off the bottom of the tiles, catching Greg off balance. She turned, grabbing her towel and making a run for the door. But Greg was too quick. He slammed into her back. Angie hit the wooden door to the bathroom with force. Greg pulled her back, holding the knife to her neck once again. He opened the door and pushed her through ahead of him.
Oscar drove slowly. He didn't want to seem too enthusiastic. He still didn't want something to happen while they were working together, but he didn't see the harm in planting the seeds. Anyway, he thought, Mac and Pete have probably been doing it for ages, and you wouldn't even know it. He smiled to himself as he pulled to a stop at a red light. He couldn't wait to see Angie's smile, he realised, his own spreading across his face like a disease.
Angie fell, hitting her head on the side of the bed. She put a hand to her forehead, feeling the gash. Greg was on top of her in a second. She tried to push him up and roll from underneath him, just like she had been taught at self-defence classes.
"My, my, you're feisty, aren't you?" He stood off her for only a moment, in order to shut her bedroom door. He turned back to her. Angie tried to stand, but was too weak. She was dripping wet, and still held onto her towel, retaining the little dignity she had left.
Greg moved forward, lying himself brutally on top of her.
She gasped as his fist knocked the wind out of her. He held the knife to her side as he ripped away the towel, taking in everything he saw with pleasure.
He watched excitedly as tears began rolling down her cheeks. Greg put a hand to her cheek. "There, there, my darling, don't cry." He stroked her repeatedly as she continued to struggle beneath him.
Oscar pulled into Angie's driveway. He whistled to himself as he got out of the car with his wine and headed towards the front door. He stopped as he saw the door was slightly ajar. That wasn't usual, especially not with Angie. He opened it slowly, listening. He made his way down the hallway. Oscar didn't call out her name. If something was wrong, he didn't want to be the one to cause a panic.
He passed Angie's bedroom without a second glance. Inside, no noise was been made. Greg still sat, absorbed in Angie's body. She cried quietly with her head turned, unable to do anything because of the knife held firmly beside her waist.
Oscar stopped when he saw the entrance to the bathroom. There was water all over the floor. He looked down at his feet, realising he hadn't been looking at the carpet. He turned, looking back down the hallway at the trail leading to Angie's bedroom.
Angie felt a sudden burst of anger; she rolled, pushing Greg off her, taking him by surprise. She managed to let out an angry yell before he regained his balance and threw all of his weight into her. She fell back, hard, against the floor. I give up, she thought. I can't keep going. I just can't. Angie tried not to cry again as Greg took up his position on top of her. Oh God, she thought, turning her head and squeezing her eyes shut.
Oscar put his ear to the door. He heard the scuffle inside. This is not good, he thought, racing back to find Angie's spare gun. He knew she had told him where it was. They had told each other where they kept their spares one day on a stakeout, when there had been nothing else to talk about.
Oscar tried to remember. He knew it was in the kitchen somewhere. He opened cupboards and checked tins and boxes as quietly as possible. Finally, he set eyes on Angie's small pistol. In the empty Whitmans box next to it, there were a small number of bullets. Oscar hurriedly loaded them, casting glances down the hallway every few seconds.
Angie kept her eyes closed as she felt Greg run a hand down her body. Jesus, she begged, get me out of this. Please.
Angie didn't see anything, didn't want to. She kept her eyes glued shut. But she heard the door swing open, hitting the wall behind it. And she heard the gun shot, the bullet passing so close to her she jumped a mile high. She opened her eyes as Greg slumped on top of her, his body becoming a dead weight on her chest. Blood dripped over her as she tried to push him off, panicking. A sharp pain started to stab at her side.
Oscar was beside her in a second. "Angie," he whispered repeatedly as he realised what he had just prevented.
He rolled Greg off her, reaching for the towel a couple of metres away. He handed it to her quickly as he helped her sit. She covered herself, ashamed.
Oscar sat in front of her, concerned. He put a hand to the cut on her forehead, which was still bleeding heavily.
"Oscar," Angie whispered urgently. He looked down at her hand, clasped around her middle. They locked eyes for only a few seconds, before Oscar gently moved her hand away. She was shaking terribly.
Down her waist and hips, there was at least a twenty centimetre cut where Greg's knife had slipped as he was shot. Angie looked away, breaking down. Oscar moved behind her, reaching for a phone as he held her in his arms. "It's okay. It's okay," he reassured her repeatedly as he called for the police and an ambulance. He hung up the phone, holding a hand tenderly over her the gash. She leant back into him, shaking and crying. Oscar could do nothing more but keep reassuring her that everything was going to be all right. Hopefully, he added to himself, choking back his own tears.
Pete and Mac ran up to Oscar, who was covered in blood.
"What's happened?" they asked him fearfully. Oscar held back tears.
"It's all right. Angie, she was attacked by...Greg Harris. When I got there he had surprised her in the shower. She was beaten really badly. He was..." Mac sat him down on the nearby chair as she listen, scared. Oscar continued. "...he was on top of her..."
"Oh God," Mac muttered.
"Nothing happened. But when I shot him, his knife slipped. She has this amazingly long cut down her side, guys; it was horrible. She was so scared, I..." Stone was interrupted as Danni ran up to them, followed by a less excitable doctor. He looked at Oscar, Angie's blood across his shirt.
"I take it you're Oscar Stone?" he asked. Stone nodded.
"Right, you can see her now. Your friend, Angie, is in a bit of a state. The physical injuries will heal. She has stiches down her side and on her forehead, and she has a slight concussion, but she'll be fine in a few days. The stiches come out in ten. I'm most worried about the psychological scars. She was almost raped..." Oscar nodded as the doctor left him outside Angie's room.
He entered slowly. She had her head turned, looking out the window at the city lights. She didn't turn as Oscar entered. He sat beside her.
"Angie," he started. She didn't respond. Oscar heard her sniffle. She was shaking. He put a hand on her shoulder.
"Just relax, Ang. You're okay now." She turned to look at him, tears sliding down her badly bruised cheeks. There was so much she wanted to say; only she just couldn't make herself stop crying. She reached out to him as best she could without straining herself. "Oscar," she choked as he leant forward to hug her. She held onto him tightly as she relaxed, letting the tears fall from her eyes onto his shoulder. As they broke away, she put a hand to his shirt, soiled with her blood. Tears welled up in her eyes again as she looked away.
Oscar reached across the bed, taking her far cheek in his hand. She closed her eyes as she felt the warmth and security in his touch. He turned her face slowly to meet his. "Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?" he asked. She nodded as he brushed hair from the stiches on her forehead.
"Oh God, Angie," Oscar started. "You don't know how glad I am that you're all right. I...thought I'd lost you when I saw the cut. I..." She reached up, putting a finger to hips lips. Oscar took her hand in his, holding it as he kissed it gently.
"Thankyou," Angie whispered. Oscar looked into her eyes as he gently placed her hand back on the sheets. He put a hand to her face, moving it slowly down her jaw line to her neck and back again. It was the same action Greg had used, but this time it sent different kinds of shivers down Angie's spine. As Oscar's fingers traced her chin and mouth, she kissed them gently. Oscar held them there as Angie whispered once again, "Thankyou."
Oscar was tender. He leant over slowly, so as not to threaten Angie. He looked straight into her beautiful blue eyes, making sure this is what she wanted. It was, he saw, in the tears that now rolled down her cheeks again. Oscar brushed them away gently as their lips met for a brief moment. He pulled away slowly as Angie smiled.
"Angie," Oscar said quietly. "I don't want this to start because you think I feel sorry for you."
"And I don't want this to start because you feel sorry for me," she replied. "Do you?" Oscar smiled.
"Yes and no. Ang, I've wanted this to happen a while now..."
"But we're still working together," she choked through tears.
"I don't care anymore," Oscar said affectionately. He leant in to kiss her again. This time, Angie reached up and pulled him close to her. Stone was careful, only lightly brushing places along Angie's bruised body. She shivered with pleasure beneath him as he moved to be closer to her. He took her head in both his hands and kissed her with more passion than he had ever kissed anyone before. Behind them, the door opened quietly. Mac, Danni and Pete looked in for only a second, shutting the door quickly, smiling. Angie and Oscar were completely absorbed in each other. They broke away eventually. Angie moved over so that Oscar could be next to her. He kept his arm around her, gently running a hand down Angie's face as she closed her eyes, falling into a sleep full of wonderful dreams. He smiled as he watched her sleep, pulling her close to him for a final kiss goodnight.
"Love you, Ang," he said quietly to her, holding her near.
"Love you, too..." she replied, almost fully asleep. She put her arm over his chest as Oscar felt her relax. He too, closed his eyes, falling into a deep sleep, comfortable and secure in their tender embrace. | dclm-gs1-011890000 |
A/N: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Any similarities to the original characters or themes from the books or media franchise are used here for entertainment purposes only, with no monetary gain for me, the FanFiction author. All original content, ideas, and intellectual property of Rm w/ a Vu are mine . . .
. . . but the responsibility for the replacement of any ruined articles of clothing due to spontaneous combustion after reading the citrusy parts of this story is all yours.
I want to thank all of those who read and reviewed the last chapter. While not all of them were *great*, I do appreciate you taking the time to tell me how you felt. I knew when I plotted this story out a year ago that I was going to upset some people when I went this direction, but I'm not the kind of author who's going to change a storyline just because a few people are upset. The truth remains that a lot of you (while still worried about this situation) trust in me to give you that HEA.
Chapter 31. Decisions, Decisions
I can't believe how accepting Bella's been about this whole fucked-up situation. However, I'm not sure I entirely buy it either. Yes, she surprised me by acting so maturely, but I can tell it still bothers her—how couldn't it?
She assures me that she'll support whatever decision I make, but does she mean it? She flat-out told me she's not ready to be a mother, and while I would never force that upon her, if I choose to raise this baby, things will change. The baby will cry at all hours of the night—I'm not naive enough to think otherwise—and she'll find it hard to find any quiet time to study. Not to mention, our relalationship, while I wouldn't want it to, could suffer horribly.
I can't believe I got myself into this mess. I'll never drunk dial anyone ever again; no good comes of it.
Trying to find the right time to tell Bella everything proved to be difficult, and ultimately, I decided to wait until we were home. No matter how I spun it in my mind, it ruined the vacation. Of course, Bella points out that my emotional withdrawal did that, anyway. I'm such an asshole.
It's just my luck that when I finally find the courage to just rip the Band-Aid off, we're interrupted . . . by the source of my dilemma, no less.
When all the pieces fall into place for Bella, the look in her eyes kills me. Knowing I caused her that look makes my stomach roll, and I vow to never forgive myself.
The minute she grabs her keys and starts for the door, I feel sick to my stomach. I don't know what exactly to do, but I know I can't just let her walk out that door without trying to explain everything to her. She says she'll be back—that she just needs to think—and while I know she's absolutely entitled to some time alone to process this, I'm reluctant to agree. I let her go, though, because I have to deal with Irina. While I would much rather hash things out with Bella now and not later, I need to know the details of what needs to be discussed. And only one person has that information.
Angry that Bella found out the way she did—again, it's completely my fault for not telling her sooner, but I'm looking for a scapegoat for my blame—I glare at Irina as I storm back into the house. She's hot on my trail and closes the door behind us.
"I'm sorry," she quickly says. "I didn't realize she had no idea."
"Why are you even here?" I demand, furious.
Irina's eyes widen and she pulls back slightly, almost afraid. "We're running out of time." Her voice is quiet and hesitant. "I figured coming to you and discussing this maturely was the right thing to do."
"How do I even know it's mine? We used a condom, and you were supposedly on the pill."
Her face contorts from afraid to angry in an instant. "How dare you even imply—"
"How dare I?" I shout. "You came barging back into my life with this."
"Oh, pull your head out of your ass," she barks. "Condoms have a three percent failure rate—it's written right there on the box. And yes, I am on the pill, but apparently the antibiotics I was on for a bronchial infection rendered them completely fucking useless." She takes a deep, cleansing breath before continuing. "Now, it took both of us to make this mess, and I'll be damned if you leave it all on me to clean up."
"What do you want from me? Money? To get back together?" I ask, pacing back and forth, my self-loathing and rage still bubbling under my skin.
Staring at me incredulously, Irina shakes her head. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" I stare at her, dumbfounded. "Everything's always about you, right? All the girls are just lining up to get a piece of Edward Cullen." Her sarcasm isn't appreciated, but it knocks me off my high horse for a moment.
"I don't want you back, Edward," she seethes. "I want you to decide what the next step is." She looks down, placing her hand over her flat stomach. "I don't have a maternal bone in my body—you know that. Kids were never in my future."
I swallow thickly, taking a step back until I hit the wall and letting it support me as my legs threaten to give out. "So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying, if you want the baby, it's yours. I'll get a paternity test to ease your mind, and I'll carry it to term. Like a surrogate. I'll do all the things a pregnant woman is supposed to do: I won't drink, I'll avoid large quantities of seafood and caffeine . . . I'll give you a healthy child, and after it's born, I'll sign over any and all claim to the child. Or there's always . . ." She lets her words hang there for a minute, implying that she'd be okay terminating the pregnancy.
Even though this isn't how I saw my life turning out right now, the thought of not manning up to the responsibility being thrust at me makes me uneasy.
"Why?" I croak, once I've found my voice again.
"I've always been selfish," she says with a smirk. "You know that. I just got the opportunity of a lifetime working in Italy. A child would complicate that. I haven't signed my contract yet, and I'm sure I can negotiate its terms so I can stay in the US until after the baby is born." A heavy silence fills the room, and Irina watches me expectantly. "I'm giving you the choice."
"I don't . . . I can't . . ." I thrust my fingers through my hair, fisting it roughly. "Bella."
"I'm not going to ask you to make up your mind right now. But sooner would be better than later." She offers me a smile. I think it's meant to come off as reassuring, but I'm not feeling it. "No tricks, Edward. I'm serious when I say I'll sign over all parental claim."
All I can do is nod in her direction, but I barely see her; I'm staring at nothing and everything at the same time, all of it blurring into nothingness.
"She's lovely, by the way." She laughs once, genuine humour ringing out. "Quite the firecracker. I didn't mean to cause trouble for the two of you, but I think she's stronger than you're giving her credit for. If she feels as strongly for you as I think she does, based on the death glare she gave me earlier, then I think she'll stick by you through this. Give her time, Edward."
With that, she leaves, and I am faced with a decision that has the potential to change my entire life.
I stumble over to the stairs and sit down to figure out how my life had gone from damn-near perfect to completely fucked in what feels like seconds.
When Bella finally arrives home, she seems nervous, but less upset than before. I'm beyond relieved she showed up at all, because, while she told me she'd be back, I figured she was just feeding me a line to placate me.
From there, we talk. We talk about it all. She's more than candid about how she feels—about my omission, my obvious distress, and where she's at. Neither of us really eats, instead picking at the sandwiches we've made for something to busy our fidgeting hands. By the end of the conversation, I'd say we're in a better place than moments earlier. It's not back to where it was, but we've still got so much to work through.
Exhausted, we head upstairs for bed. I'm supposed to go into work tomorrow, but I'm thinking I might see if Emmett can handle everything solo for a few days. I've got a lot to figure out, and not a lot of time to do it.
I stare at Bella across the bed from me. It's dark in the bedroom, the moonlight only casting enough light that I can make out her expressive eyes. There's two feet between us as we lie on our sides, facing one another, and the room is silent except for the sound of our breathing. I admire her silently, thankful and confused for how forgiving she's been.
"Thank you," I whisper, reaching out and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"For what?"
"For saying you'll support me. It can't be easy for you to have to go through this."
Bella shrugs, dropping her gaze from me. It's something I've come to recognize as her tell when she's trying to be strong and selfless. "It's nothing. You'd have done the same."
"Bella . . ."
She sighs. "Yeah, it sucks," she confesses, reaching out and taking my hand. "But I love you."
Still worried that she doesn't understand just how much things could change for us with a new baby, I give her hand a squeeze. "You know a baby will change things, right?" She stares at me, her eyes wide and nervous. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you or us, but I want you to really think about this, sweetheart. If I decide to raise this child on my own, your life will be affected as long as you live here."
She sits up in an instant, pulling her hand from mine and placing it against her chest like she's guarding her heart. "Are you asking me to move out? Do you not want me here anymore?"
"What?" I exclaim, following her lead and sitting up. "No. That's not what I'm saying at all. But you said you're not ready to be a mother. If you live here, you'll be subjected to the all-night crying, midnight feedings, and diaper changes. You're young and just starting your life. Going to school, getting ready to start your career . . . I'm giving you the opportunity to change your mind. To back out of your lease . . . and out of this relationship."
"I've already told you I'm not going anywhere. I've known about all of this for less than eight hours, Edward. I'm scared. You need to give me time to process everything. Right now, it all feels like I'm caught in a dream. Like I'm going to wake up at any minute and we'll still be in Whistler." She pauses for a moment and smiles, restoring a little of my hope. "Yes, I said I'm not ready to be a mother . . . but I didn't mean ever. We'll figure this out. We'll just have to take it one day at a time."
There's conviction behind her words; it wavers a bit, but it is enough to convince me that we'll be all right. I turn to look at the alarm clock and see that it's late, and we're both clearly exhausted. We lie back down and continue to stare at each other until we fall asleep. There'll be time to talk tomorrow.
::: Rw/aV :::
I refuse to make a choice until a paternity test can confirm whether or not Irina's telling the truth. She tells me she'll set up the paternity test and let me know when the appointment is. Apparently, between ten and thirteen weeks, the most accurate way to test paternity is to collect a chorionic villus sample. I suggest we try to get in before Irina enters her second trimester so we still have options, and while she seems a little annoyed by the underlying insinuation that the child isn't mine, she agrees to it.
Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, folks.
The first few days are still a little tense, but Bella and I try to get things as close to normal as we can. Emmett and Rose assure me they can cover for me for the rest of the week. I haven't given them the details of why I need a few extra days off, but they're understanding nonetheless.
In addition to not telling Emmett and Rose, I've decided to wait and not tell my parents until I know for certain that the baby is mine. Bella agrees that it's for the best, and her constant reassurance helps keep me grounded through it all. Even if I still don't deserve it after all I've kept from her.
That night that we talked about everything, I vowed before falling asleep to never keep anything from her again. If something happens in the future, I will tell her immediately. No matter what it is.
Irina sets the paternity test up for two days after she and I spoke. I'm extremely nervous, but Bella helps calm my nerves. She offers to come with me, but I don't want to make her feel obligated to do something she's not quite comfortable with. While I would love her to be there, just the offer is enough to show her support.
Irina and I wait in the waiting room after we sign the appropriate paperwork. She seems perfectly fine while I can't get my hands to stop sweating. Normally, I'd be a little concerned by how calm she is, but it only makes sense given the future she's chosen for herself.
"How is she?" Irina asks politely, trying to keep my mind occupied. "Bella, I mean."
"She's good. Better than good, actually," I confess. "She's been surprisingly supportive."
"I told you she would be."
"Irina?" The nurse's voice interrupts us, and Irina stands up to follow her into one of the rooms. Not long after Irina leaves, another nurse calls my name, and I follow her into a room across the hall. My portion of the test is far less invasive than Irina's, as they take a swab from the inside of my cheek, so I'm done before Irina and wait for her in the waiting room.
She comes out with the nurse, looking no different than when she went in, and we're assured that we should have the test results within the week. Which means I could be explaining this to a lot of people by next weekend.
Thinking about what my parents might say causes my anxiety to spike, and it's all I can think about on my way home. Bella notices the minute I step through the door, and she ushers me into the living room, settling me onto the couch and rubbing my shoulders to help ease the tension in them.
"It'll be fine," she assures me softly, letting her fingers move up my neck and into my hair. It makes my scalp tingle, the sensation moving below the surface of my skin and all over my body. "They'll understand. They're going to be grandparents. How could that not be good news?" She pauses for a minute, her hands ceasing their ministrations, and she rests her chin on my shoulder. "Regardless of how it happened."
I sigh, letting my head fall to the side to rest against hers. "How are you so okay with this?"
Bella lifts her head and starts massaging my shoulders again. "I'm still not . . . not completely, anyway," she admits. "But I'm taking it a day at a time, Edward. I'm working toward accepting what life's thrown our way."
I reach up with my right hand and place it on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Take as much time as you need. Just promise you'll tell me if you're ever feeling . . . fuck, I don't know . . . overwhelmed."
"I will."
As the week passes, I go back and forth about how the paternity results will come back. Part of me feels without a doubt that Irina is telling the truth, but the part of me that wants so badly to go back in time to the way things were with Bella hopes otherwise.
When the results come in the mail, Bella's by my side, having just returned from school. She stands behind where I sit at the kitchen table and places her hands on my shoulders. It feels like she's lending me any strength she has as I open the envelope and pull out the piece of paper.
It tells me what, deep down, I already knew it would: the baby is mine.
I sit there, staring at the paper in silence. Time seems to stop, the edges of my vision darkening until all I can focus on are the results. My eyes start to itch and dry out from my inability to blink, and it isn't until Bella wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek that I take my first breath.
"Okay," she says sweetly. "So now we know." I nod, rubbing my hand over her forearm.
"Now we know," I repeat. "I guess it's time to make a decision."
Sighing lightly, Bella straightens up and walks around my chair, taking the test results from me and setting them on the table before she sits across my lap. "Edward, you made the decision the minute Irina explained everything." I open my mouth to protest, but Bella smiles and cuts me off. "Don't try to deny it. I could see it in your eyes that night. The fact that you're willing to step up to the plate and do what needs to be done is . . . admirable, and I think it's made me fall in love with you just a little bit more."
She's not wrong; there was very little doubt that I would raise this child if it turned out to be mine. But I still worry that this whole situation will drive an even bigger wedge between us than it already has. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I nod. "And you're sure you're all right with this? For a baby to come into my life?"
"Our life," she amends. "We have . . . what? Seven months?" She inhales a shaky breath, her smile faltering for the briefest of seconds. "I think that gives us enough time to figure things out."
::: Rw/aV :::
I invite my parents over for coffee Saturday afternoon. I'm nervous as hell to tell them that they're going to be grandparents, but Bella is sure to remind me that they don't seem like the type that will be upset.
"They might need time like I did to understand it all, but they'll be ecstatic," tells me before they arrive. I'd assume Bella will make an excuse to get out of the house while I tell them, but I'm surprised to find out she's planned on showing her support by staying close by.
When the doorbell rings, Bella runs off to the kitchen to prepare the tea and coffee, and I usher my parents into the living room.
"Where's Bella?" my mother asks brightly.
"Um, getting the coffee," I explain, clearing my throat as they take a seat on the sofa.
They watch me expectantly as I stand before them, and I decide to just tell them. Stalling in an effort to figure out the best way to deliver this news caused problems for Bella and me, and I wasn't going to repeat that mistake again.
I take a deep breath. "So, the reason I asked you both here wasn't just to have coffee," I confess, wringing my hands in front of me.
"Oh, dear," my mother says, reaching for Dad's hand. "What's happened?"
"Um . . . well . . . You're, uh . . . You're going to be grandparents." They're eyes go wide simultaneously, but I don't see anger there, only excitement.
Before I get a chance to clarify, Bella appears just then, holding a tray with the coffee and teapots on it, and when my parents notice my focus shift to her, they're on their feet and turning around.
Mom quickly takes the tray and sets it on the end table before wrapping her arms around Bella, pinning her arms to her sides. "Oh, this is so amazing—I mean, a little soon, sure, but you two were just meant to be together."
"Oh, this is awkward," Bella groans, bringing her arms up as much as possible to pat my mom's back. "Esme, no." She looks to me for help, and I step forward.
"Mom, Bella's not pregnant," I amend, my voice low and rough.
Mom releases Bella, looks to Dad, and then to me. "I'm confused," she says.
"Irina," I croak. "Irina's pregnant."
Now their eyes go wide with every emotion other than excitement. "Irina," Mom repeats, reaching blindly to her left for my father. "Irina's pregnant. How? When? Good god, Edward, why?"
I suddenly feel like a six-year-old child again, under the scrutinizing glare of my parents when they caught me kissing the neighbour girl in the backyard. "I didn't . . . it wasn't . . ." I sigh, collapsing into the chair and pressing my face into my hands. "I don't know."
"Is that why she called the house?" my father asks, and I nod, still unable to look at them.
A warm hand presses to my shoulder, and I feel Bella's presence as she slides onto the arm of the chair. "She came to the house just after we'd returned and delivered the news. We were caught off-guard, yes, but we're trying to make the best of the situation," Bella explains, running her hand over my shoulders.
I lift my face from my hands and look up at her in awe. I didn't fail to notice how she used the word "we," and while I'd heard her say it the other day, it still renders me momentarily speechless. Her support gives me the strength I need to continue explaining everything to my parents.
By the time I tell them what Irina's proposal is, my parents seem to have relaxed. A little. Like Bella, they're still trying to process what they've just learned, and are going to need a little time. They leave after their coffee is finished, hugging Bella and me and telling us to call them if we need anything.
Once they're gone, Bella closes and locks the door before turning to me with a smile. "Well, that could have gone worse."
Unable to voice my gratitude for all she'd done this afternoon, I pull her into my arms and kiss her. Saying "thank you" just doesn't seem like enough, but even kissing her doesn't seem sufficient.
She accepts it, though, winding her arms around my neck and pulling me closer, her tongue tracing the line of my lips before deepening our kiss. My hands move down over her hips until I grab her ass and lift her up. The minute her legs wrap around my waist, I turn us around and head for the stairs. I stop kissing her so I can see the steps, but she continues to kiss and bite the skin of my neck, making it difficult for me to focus on climbing the stairs when all I want to do is press her against the wall and have my way with her. When her fingers twist into my hair, they send a tingling sensation from my scalp, beneath my skin, and straight to my groin—it's really not helping my inability to focus.
At the top of the stairs, I find myself unable to keep my lips off of her anymore, and I move forward quickly, slamming us into the table outside the game room. It rocks beneath the force of our weight, and everything that was on it falls to the floor one at a time. I grunt as my lips find Bella's again, and her hands frantically begin tugging at the button of my jeans before she slips her hand inside and wraps it around my cock.
"Ah, fuck," I moan against her lips as she moves her hand, tightening her grip slightly and repeating the action. Instinctively, I thrust my hips into her palm while my hands move up under her shirt.
The table wobbles beneath Bella, and she giggles, her head falling back while I kiss the smooth column of her throat. "Perhaps we should move this to the bedroom before this table gives out."
Always one to oblige, I remove my hands from her tits and grab her ass, lifting her off the table and carrying her down the hall. Inside my bedroom, I toss her down on my bed, and we scramble to remove each other's clothes. Our fingers claw desperately at buttons and hems, our hands paw at newly exposed naked flesh, and before I can even kick my pants off entirely, I grab a condom from the bedside table and put it on before nudging her knees apart and entering her slick heat.
The instant I'm sheathed within her, I realize that it's the first time that we've made love since we left Whistler, and I wonder if she's made this realization as well. One look in her eyes tells me she has. I lower myself until our bodies are completely pressed together, all of the air expelled from within our bodies until we can feel one another's heartbeats, and I hold most of my weight off of her by balancing on my forearms.
As our hips roll together, seeking the pinnacle of ecstasy, I attempt to slow our lovemaking, to show her how much her love and support have meant to me these past two weeks, but she's having none of it. She uses all of her strength to roll us over, taking her place above me and setting our pace. I always love it when she's on top, and I find myself struggling to hold on as her hips move up and down, back and forth, and around in sensual circles while her fingers curl against my chest, her fingernails biting gently into my skin.
Every muscle in my body tenses, and the surface of my skin tingles from head to toe, my fingers going numb, as I teeter on the edge of losing control. My hands fly to her hips, curling around them and pulling her harder against me. She cries out as her pussy tightens around my cock, coaxing my own orgasm from me before she collapses on my chest, panting heavily.
We lay like this long enough that I get to feel her quickened heartbeat slow to its normal pace once more. My hand moves up and down her spine slowly as my eyes fall closed, contentedness blanketing the both of us.
"What are you thinking about?" Bella asks out of nowhere, shifting her head until her chin rests on my sternum.
I tilt my head to look at her and smirk. "Nothing really, just basking in the moment. You?"
"I miss Whistler," she confesses.
I automatically assume she means she misses how simple our lives seemed when we were in Whistler, so I look at her apologetically. Before I can respond to her, though, her eyebrows pull together and she shakes her head. "Oh, no. This isn't about what we came back to. Not at all. It's just . . . because we came back to all of this, I never really got a chance to really let our vacation soak in, you know? I'm going to miss the cabin, and it makes me sad that we'll never get to go back there. We'd built a few memories there, and I'm sad we won't be making more in the vacation home you grew up in." She pauses, biting her lip lightly. "Especially now, you know?"
I do know, and she's absolutely right. Some of my best memories were from our family vacations up to Whistler, and I'd enjoyed the new ones there with Bella. And now that I was going to have a child of my own, I could imagine introducing him or her to that part of my life.
And maybe this would be the perfect way to show Bella how much I appreciate all that she's done. It would prove my loyalty to her and show her that I foresee a long and happy life with her . . .
"What if we didn't have to say goodbye," I say quietly, drawing curiosity from her eyes.
"What do you mean?"
I smile, lifting my hands to her face and pushing her hair back before cradling her jaw, my thumbs moving idly over her cheekbones. "What if I bought the cabin from my parents? For us."
A/N2: I know I've already lost readers due to this turn of events. I knew it would happen, and I'm okay with it. Really. There've been some pretty harsh reviews, but it's not something I've never experienced before with some of my other fics. I get it. It's cool. I appreciated every review, because it helps me understand what people like and dislike.
Those of you who have chosen to stick by me through this little twist, what did you all think of how the situation is being handled? I tried to get a little of the humour back that we were used to (as well as some of the citrus ;)). I clearly can't get RIGHT back to it, because that would be unrealistic and a bit insensitive to the situation, but it'll get there. I promise.
One more thing I want to mention to all of those who are having trouble grasping how Bella could possibly love a child that's not biologically hers: this Edward is adopted. To site this huge biological reason as to why Bella could never love it as if it were her own seems odd to me, especially when Edward is proof that DNA and blood don't give you the ability to love...it's the size of the person's heart and their ability to open it to others. Yes, he made the baby with an ex, but it's still a half of the man she loves. How could she not love it :)
So, let me know what you thought! Teasers await those who review!
Next up, we hear from Bella. Some big stuff is going to happen. In a very good way :) | dclm-gs1-011900000 |
-The Daughter-
It had been a while since she had been awake.
Gretchen moaned in pain as a knife of agony shot through her, from her core to the base of her spine in a circle bounding her middle.
"She's awake!" she was dimly aware of hearing as she struggled to shift back into an upright position on the folded cot forming a pillow behind her.
"Hey, girl," said a comforting voice in her ear. "Easy. Just lie down for a second and breathe, alright? You shouldn't be doing that."
She opened her eyes and was blinded for a few seconds before blinking through the fluorescent white and resolving images through the acid wash of light against her quivering pupils. The voice was coming from a man in a long white labcoat and a surgical mask. He was fiddling with a dispenser from the IV at Gretchen's bedside, and as he turned a tiny worm gear attached to it, Gretchen felt the residual pain from her earlier movement subside.
"Synphene. A powerful painkiller. You should be alright to move a little under this dosage," the man said.
"Are you a doctor?" Gretchen asked, her voice coarse and disused.
"No. I'm a healer. There's a difference."
"Do you have any water?"
"Yes. Here," he said, picking up a bottle and decanting a few decilitres out.
"Thank you," Gretchen croaked as she took the cup and drank. It was powerfully sweet, and Gretchen almost couldn't force the liquid down.
"You need to drink it," the doctor said, seeing her distaste. "It'll restore your energy faster than anything else."
She forced the rest down and made a point to ask for regular water from there on out.
"Can I ask you a few questions?" the doctor said, picking up a clipboard from the table in the tiny room.
"Go ahead," Gretchen said, her throat aching less as the 'water' smoothed it and rehydrated her cells.
"Do you remember what happened before you wound up here?"
"I was on a boat with Devin and Parson before we crashed."
"Okay. Is that it?"
"When's your birthday?"
"September seventh."
"What's the date?"
"No idea. I haven't seen a calendar since I got here."
"Alright. Last question. What did I say the painkiller you are on is called?"
"Uh... synphene."
"Good. I can say that you don't appear to display any signs of mental illness, induced or otherwise. Let me check your dilation and reflexes."
He shined a light in her eyes and looked at her pupils, then tapped her knees with a hammer a few times until her legs reflexively jerked.
"Alright, you're in fine physical condition. Please notify somebody if you decide to suddenly leave your bed," he said, smiling. "We've had a number of scares with people leaving their beds to try to return to their posts. Course, when your post no longer exists, it's hard to do."
"Why don't you take a look outside?" The doctor gestured to the window and Gretchen followed his hand.
Outside was nothing but clear green tropical waters and the occasional blurry Arkoral foundation.
"We're in a submarine!?" Gretchen asked, excited.
"Yes." The man stood from his little stool at her bedside and prepared to leave. As he slid the partition's curtain aside, he pulled back, turned, and called to Gretchen once more. "You've got a visitor!"
It was Parson.
-The Engineer-
Gretchen smiled up at Parson as he walked into the tiny curtained partition, his height and the bulk of his combat gear combining to increase his presence in the tiny room to an astounding level.
He looked over at her and smiled. "Hey," he said, voice cracking after a few minutes of letting his mouth work and his brain sort out what he wanted to say.
She got up and hugged him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair as he crouched down to her level. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"No, no, it's not. I dragged you into this. We thought we were going to save you but we weren't. Instead we brought you here and it's even worse now than it was before."
"No, it's fine. We're all gonna be okay now. We can get away. We've got a new ship..."
Parson barely choked down a sob. "Yeah." He stood and smiled. "Yeah, we do." He reached down and ruffled her hair affectionately before turning and pushing aside the partition curtain.
Everything was shit.
Gretchen was quite possibly the only person in a partition who wasn't a casualty of the disastrous defense of Guest Pelgo 7. Not only that, she was the reason for the attack and it was quite possible that he was the only one who knew that all those Guests had sacrificed bodies, lives, and lead for a girl and a teenage boy.
It took all of Parson's resolve to turn away from rationalizing the situation, appraising the impossible forces arrayed before them, and to turn towards the next hill.
Which happened to be a staircase on the opposite side of the sub's passenger compartment. Twenty steps, four metres, a psychological leap closer to returning to duty.
He made the leap and found himself in the sub's kitchen-cum-triage room. Moans and gasps of pain were echoing out from behind the counter and down the airlock hall as wounded volunteer after wounded volunteer were brought in and laid on beds, waiting for a doctor to splint an injury or send them down a floor for more intensive treatment.
Parson sighed and sat down against a wall, resting his arms on his rifle and hanging his head. It wasn't shaping up to be the best day.
It got worse five seconds after that, when the ship exploded.
Well, it didn't explode, it just sort of shook, rolled a good thirty degrees to starboard, and then echoed down the line with ripping, shuddering sounds.
"Oh, shit," Parson whispered, rising shakily and slowly against the rolling ship when he suddenly found himself hurled against a wall by another impact.
He was on his feet by instinct and found his mind catching up with his body as he ran down a narrow hall to the bridge. It was an odd sensation and situation to experience, being attacked by invisible antagonists with no way to defend one's self. A sort of animal terror seized Parson's lizard brain while his intellect raced to find a viable defense for the battered submarine.
After half a minute or so, Parson reached the bridge, unsealed the door, and burst into a room flooding with water.
"Fuck." As he scanned the room, he found a half-dozen bodies at shorted terminals and two dying submariners, shrapnel embedded into their bodies and blood and salt water mixing into their bodies through their wounds.
He turned and slammed the door shut, then tore back down the twisting hallway. Unfortunately, there was a midshipman running in the opposite direction, and they collided soundly.
"Where's the lockout gear?"
"By the airlock, back down the hall, first door on the left." the breathless midshipman gasped.
"Thanks. Bridge is out. Everyone's dead or dying. Took a hit."
"Alright," the midshipman said, slumping against the wall.
Parson stood, turned, and continued his journey. The airlock wasn't far, and it was a simple matter to pull on a helmet, seal it, grab a scooter and lock out. Part of his mind screamed at Parson's stupidity, that you just locked out into unknown water! You could have been crushed, or caught the bends!
But he wasn't in deep. So he'd be fine. And there were more important things to take care of.
Like the attack submarines firing torpedoes at the Guest sub.
-The Guest-
It was a move that could only have been described as decisive.
As the helicopter pulled out from Guest Pelgo 5 and over the water, Fred selected the man hanging from the handrail on the edge of the troop bay as a target, looked over at Amelie, sighed, looked back at the man, and lunged out of his seat at the guard, tackling low and reaching for his carabineer up above on the rail. As adrenaline pumped his world down to a speed where he heard the chatter of the guards' automatics going off at him as a one-by-one pop, his thumb pushed in the carabineer's clip and his wrist snapped it off the rail.
He and the gendarme tumbled out of the copter and down towards the welcoming waves below, past the fast-roped strike team and past the water's surface. Fred arrested their fall and pushed to the surface.
Now he had to finish this.
The gendarme kicked Fred away and frantically groped for his knife as Fred sloshed back through the water. He got a hold on it and made a jackknife move at Fred, knife arm straight.
He miscalculated.
His attack vector and form were good, but he was in full body armor while Fred was in a drysuit. Fred easily dodged away, grabbed the officer's wrist, and stole the knife.
"Fuck!" the officer shouted through the helmet. Fred kicked the officer away and began to swim away in the opposite direction.
"Moron," he muttered to himself as he escaped, the officer's service pistol at his side through just a bit of sleight-of-hand when he had stolen the knife.
It wasn't a long swim back to Guest Pelgo 5. They had barely made it a kilometre out from the artificial island, and Fred was a powerful swimmer. He pulled out of the water and looked up for the helicopter.
It had followed him.
It was closing fast, eight strike team members fast-roping down even as it moved, and then it airbraked and slung them forward. At the precise moment where they reached forty-five degrees, they let go of the ropes and sailed through the air, completing a graceful parabola, and rolled forward across the ground upon impact. Fred was already in the wind, though, and as he swung up onto a steel crossbar overlooking the street below, the last of the Sun receded beyond the horizon, and the pale lights of the Guest Pelgoes flickered on, candles and incandescents and chemical glows burning into the night and casting the dust in an eerie glow. They had no idea they were the ones being stalked now.
Advantage: Fred.
"Spread out! Find him!" said the strike team's leader, and the team complied, pairing off and moving out. They were in twos, a situation that Fred had commonly taught about during the stealth phase of his Practical Movement course. The secret, Fred had said, was to wait for one of them to make a blunder and take him out without the other one noticing, then finish him, too.
The strike team seemed to know this as well, unfortunately. They were not in the business of blundering. Their movements were quick and efficient, their sweeps of rooms were smooth, and they missed nothing as they progressed through the area. He had to stop them before things got out of hand and more Guests got involved.
There said his subconscious, and he dropped down on top of one of them, reaching down to stifle a cry of surprise even as he threw his weight forward and down to crumple the man with as little sound as possible. He dropped and Fred slipped the point of the knife between his vertebrae, leaving it in as he lunged, hands reaching for the neck of the second man. His choke prevented a cry for help, and as he pinned the struggling man into the ground, he reached for the back of the fool's head and twisted sharply about a hundred-thirty-five degrees to the left and forty-five up, snapping the hapless specialist gendarme's neck. Fred reclaimed the knife from the now-dead man's neck and found a new hiding place as the remaining three teams intensified their search.
-The Radical-
Chen's boat was a quick one, and the process of obtaining the high-explosive charges had been easier than he had thought. They were being brought up now, as the boat lined up with the docking guiderails, and soon Chen would be able to place them.
Chen reviewed the plans on his foreman's tablet, spinning the wireframe architectural schematic idly as he fixed the location of the charges in his mind.
"So that's it? You're just giving me the most powerful man-portable explosives on the Ark? No questions asked?" he had asked the Security officer holding the case when he arrived at Security Tower.
"Yep. Here you go. Please sign here, Mister Chen." Chen had scrawled his signature onto the touch-screen claim kiosk, and a little window containing the order form popped up on the screen. His signature was overlaid onto it and two Security officers took the case onto the boat headed back to the new pelgo.
Oh! That was right. They had told him what the new pelgo's ID number was. Fourteen. Pelgo 14. While it was technically in Founder waters, it was being considered a Guest pelgo. They hadn't told him what it was for yet, but he was confident that eventually he'd find out.
He debarked and started out towards the construction site, walking the winding path along the floating bridges to the support tugs. "Markus," he said, keying his intercom, "how's it coming?"
"Great," Markus said. "The Arkoral set much faster than we expected. We've finished adding auxiliary flotation into the tubes and we're just about to lay it into the water."
"Really?" Chen asked, incredulous. Normally it took a few working days to set up an Arkoral structure on the scale of the new pelgo, but if they put on some running lights, they could have the new pelgo and all the structures ashore it ready by next morning at sunup. Chen cracked a grin at this new development.
"Foreman Chen!" one of the men handling the explosives called. "Where do you want these?" He gestured to the bright red plastic box.
"Down in the amenities ring," Chen said, waving to one of the ladders down into the toroid and a small hand-operated crane overlooking it. The two explosives men nodded and hooked the box into the crane, lowering it slowly down as one of the men slid down the ladder into the hollow ring's innards.
The application was swift; the explosives simply required a ten-centimetre hole to be drilled into the Arkoral, and then they could be attached and primed. After the delivery of the explosives, Chen handled it himself. Then, as per the plans, Chen hooked them up to a wireless receiver and keyed it into ArkSec frequency 449. Done.
When he returned to the surface of the new pelgo, the crew was laying in farming and housing partitions on the inside of the torus and a few hanging over the edge. Chen pulled out the ladder and shut the access hatch as the floodlights came on over the construction project and the sun receded to rise again in twelve-odd hours. "Done."
-The Scientist-
Amelie watched Fred tumble out of the helicopter, grappling a gendarme, with great surprise.
"Fuck!" shouted one of the guards. He slid the cockpit access hatch open and turned. "You two! Stay here until I get back!" He slammed the door shut and then a few seconds later the other two on deck swung out onto cables that unfurled from under the wings to fast-rope down. That left one guard immediately next to the door. Amelie nodded towards him slightly, looking at Isadora meaningfully, and Isadora nodded back.
They rushed him together, Isa going for his helmet while Amelie threw an elbow at his face. Blood spurted from his nose and his head snapped back against the titanium bay bulkhead, making an audible clang and knocking him out almost instantly. As they did so, the helicopter suddenly jerked back, knocking the women against the tail bulkhead.
"Shit!" Isadora gasped, as Amelie lifted the unconscious gendarme and raised his rifle. The door opened and the man who had entered earlier sprayed his unconscious teammate with a quick burst of submachine gun ammunition while Amelie struggled to brace the rifle, and then she fired, and the guard opening the door jerked back, dropping to the floor and clutching at his belly. She re-aimed and fired again for good measure, and then Isadora rushed into the cockpit, grabbed the pilot, and threw him out of the helicopter and into the thirsty ocean below.
After stripping the two armed men of all their gear and tumbling them into the sea as they had the first, Amelie and Isadora sat down in the pilot and copilot's chairs. The console was simple enough; their altitude was given in metres and their attitude in radians on three axes. There was a control stick and a trackball, which Amelie assumed was for quick angular adjustments, a fact she confirmed by pushing it forward and feeling the helicopter tilt forward on a one-to-one basis for every inch of arc she moved the little ball. She smiled and slowly pushed the control stick forward, watching a velocity dial spin up to ten, twenty, thirty kilometres an hour and climbing. Isadora, meanwhile, had a weapons console. The helicopter's gliding wings had mounted a few missiles and guns on underside rails. There were even air-to-water torpedoes.
"How's it feel to have air power?" Amelie asked.
"It's… nice," Isadora replied, and her voice made chills run down Amelie's spine. "Let's go blow up some ArkSec."
"Mayday, mayday! This is Guest Medical Submarine Alpha to anybody listening! We're under attack by Security attack subs! We are carrying injured and sick and our hull integrity is below sixty percent!" called a scratchy voice over the open-channel radio.
"Speaking of which…" Isadora said, flashing a predatory grin. Amelie set her jaw under the stolen pilot's helmet and jammed the throttle open, watching the helicopter's speed increase to sixty, seventy, eighty, as the little lights and flashes underwater of the attack subs' torpedoes exploding illuminated the battle against the darkness of the Ark's aquatic shelf. | dclm-gs1-011910000 |
The Vienna Theatre
1 424 Central Ave Hot Springs, AR 71901
When Ken Goodman survived a car wreck at age 4, his parents feared that his nearly severed tongue would never speak again. After a complicated surgery and months of healing, they found he could not only speak but sing. Years later, he nabbed lead roles in musical-theater classics such as Bye Bye Birdie and The Music Man. His lengthy list of performances also includes operas, pageants, and a concert for the Austrian ambassador to the United States. These days, Ken flaunts his melodious vocals at the Vienna Theatre, the 75-seat performance space he owns with his wife, Stephanie. Here, he adds his tuneful spin to renditions of Broadway standards and folk duets with humming radiators. Nestled within the century-old Simon Mendel building, the theater is one of the few structures to survive the fire of 1928 and the man versus building tickle war of 1987.
The Vienna Theatre isn't currently running any deals
Nearby Places | dclm-gs1-011920000 |
Isaiah 29: A Marvelous Work and a Wonder
Old Testament Seminary Student Study Guide, (2002), 145–146
Sometimes people who are familiar with the Bible and are not members of the Church will ask us something like “If the Book of Mormon is such an important part of the work of God, why is it not mentioned in the Bible?” There are several answers to that question, and one of them is “It is!” Isaiah 29 is one place in the Bible where the Book of Mormon is referred to, even though it is not mentioned by name. As you read this chapter, look for prophecies of the coming forth of the Book of Mormon and the impact this book will have on the world.
Understanding the Scriptures
Isaiah 29
Ariel (vv. 1, 3, 7)Jerusalem
Distress (vv. 2, 7)Trouble
Heaviness (v. 2)Sadness
Camp against thee (v. 3)Set up an army against you
Lay siege against (v. 3)Attack
One that hath a familiar spirit (v. 4)Someone who invokes the dead to speak
Terrible (vv. 5, 20)Those who are mighty, powerful, and wicked
Chaff (v. 5)Light outer coating of a kernel of grain
Munition (v. 7)Forts, strongholds
Appetite (v. 8)Hunger
Stay (v. 9)Wait or delay
Stagger (v. 9)Stumble while you walk
Covered (v. 10)Blocked the sight
Forasmuch as (v. 13)Since
Precept (v. 13)Rules
Perish (v. 14)Be destroyed
Prudent (v. 14)Wise and intelligent
Counsel (v. 15)Plans, decisions
Esteemed (vv. 16–17)Considered
Potter’s (v. 16)Belonging to a person who makes objects out of clay
Obscurity (v. 18)Darkness
Meek (v. 19)Humble and obedient
Brought to nought (v. 20)Becomes nothing
Scorner (v. 20)One who mocks
Consumed (v. 20)Destroyed
Lay a snare (v. 21)Set a trap
Reproveth (v. 21)Corrects
Nought (v. 21)Nothing
Wax pale (v. 22)Lose its color
Erred (v. 24)Made mistakes
Isaiah 29:11–12, 18–24—What Is “the Book” Referred to in This Chapter?
Those familiar with the restored gospel will probably see that Isaiah 29 refers to the Book of Mormon and the role it plays in the Restoration of the gospel in the latter days. Elder Bruce R. McConkie said:
“… There is no greater issue ever to confront mankind in modern times than this: Is the Book of Mormon the mind and will and voice of God to all men?” (The Millennial Messiah [1982], 159, 170, 179).
Studying the Scriptures
Do activities A and B as you study Isaiah 29.
Activity A iconProphecy Fulfilled
1. 1.
Isaiah 29:1–6 tells about a group of people who “speak out of the ground” after the destruction of Jerusalem. Isaiah said they would be “visited … with earthquakes, and great noise, with storm, and tempest, and the flame of devouring fire” (Isaiah 29:6). Read 2 Nephi 26:15–17; 33:13; 3 Nephi 8:2–19; and Mormon 8:23, 26, 34–35, and write about ways the Book of Mormon fulfills the prophecy in Isaiah 29:1–6.
2. 2.
Read Joseph Smith—History 1:61–65 and tell how the event recorded was a fulfillment of Isaiah 29:11–12. You may also want to read 2 Nephi 26:9–22 and see how these verses explain more about this prophecy.
Activity B Scripture Mastery iconScripture Mastery—Isaiah 29:13–14
Apostasy means “a falling away,” and we refer to “the Apostasy” as the time when the fulness of the gospel and the priesthood authority to administer the ordinances of the gospel was taken from among men on the earth. “The Restoration” refers to the fulness of the gospel and priesthood authority being brought back to the earth.
1. 1.
Read the following verses in Isaiah 29 and tell whether they are about the Apostasy or the Restoration, then explain what the verses teach about the Apostasy or the Restoration: vv. 9–10, 13–14, 15, 18–21, 24.
2. 2.
Compare Isaiah 29:13–14 to Joseph Smith—History 1:18–19. What do you think the “marvellous work and a wonder” is? (see also vv. 33–34).
3. 3.
Isaiah 29:11–12, 18–24 tell about a book that will play an important role in the “marvellous work and a wonder.” List the truths those verses say this book will do, and then tell what book you think it refers to. | dclm-gs1-011930000 |
Doctrine and Covenants 13: The Restoration of the Aaronic Priesthood
Doctrine and Covenants and Church History Student Study Guide, (2005), 25–26
You read inJoseph Smith—History 1:68–74about the restoration of the Aaronic Priesthood.Doctrine and Covenants 13is identical toJoseph Smith—History 1:69. As you read the words of John the Baptist this time, examine them for their doctrinal importance.
Understanding the Scriptures
Doctrine and Covenants 13
Conferred upon(section heading)Given to by authority
Messiah(v. 1)Jesus Christ
Confer(v. 1)Give
Ministering of(v. 1)Service performed by
Immersion(v. 1)Being completely covered by water
Remission(v. 1)Forgiveness
Doctrine and Covenants 13:1—Priesthood Keys
Saying that the Aaronic Priesthood holds certain keys does not mean that everyone who receives the Aaronic Priesthood also receives and may use the keys of that priesthood. Just as John the Baptist said he was “acting under the direction of Peter, James, and John” (section heading), the Aaronic Priesthood is governed by the higher or Melchizedek Priesthood.
Speaking “about the priesthood and those keys which the Lord has conferred upon us in this final gospel dispensation,” President Joseph Fielding Smith explained:
“This priesthood [Melchizedek] and these keys were conferred upon Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery by Peter, James, and John, and by Moses and Elijah and others of the ancient prophets. They have been given to each man who has been set apart as a member of the Council of the Twelve. But since they are the right of presidency, they can only be exercised in full by the senior apostle of God on earth, who is the president of the Church” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1972, 98–99; orEnsign,July 1972, 87).
Doctrine and Covenants 13:1—The Sons of Levi
Although Moses held the Melchizedek Priesthood, the law of Moses was administered under the Aaronic Priesthood (D&C 84:23–27). Only men from the tribe of Levi (called Levites) were given the Aaronic Priesthood. The expression “sons of Levi” was used to refer to all priesthood holders in that day. Moses and Aaron belonged to that tribe. It was the duty of the Levites to perform the sacrifices of the law of Moses in Old Testament times ( Bible Dictionary,“Levites,” p. 724). Today, the expression “sons of Levi” is used to characterize all those in the Church who faithfully receive the priesthood and become the “sons of Moses and of Aaron” (D&C 84:33–34).
Studying the Scriptures
Do activity A as you studyDoctrine and Covenants 13.
Activity A iconThe Priesthood in Action
Talk to a bishop or an Aaronic Priesthood holder about ways he has n the keys and powers of the Aaronic Priesthood bless the lives of people and help them come unto Christ. Write what you learn in your notebook. | dclm-gs1-011940000 |
Account services and bookkeeping for state of ga
Closed - This job posting has been filled.
Job Description
I need to hire a cpa firm to work for my company and do the following.
1. file a document with irs to resubmit taxes for 07 and 06 so i dont have a lien.
2. change business name
3. file for new tax id
4. change business address on articles keeping. | dclm-gs1-011950000 |
Difference between revisions of "Failure to deallocate data"
Jump to: navigation, search
Line 79: Line 79:
[[Category:General Logic Errors]]
[[Category:General Logic Error Vulnerability]]
Revision as of 15:09, 4 August 2006
If memory is allocated and not freed the process could continue to consume more and more memory and eventually crash.
• Availability: If an attacker can find the memory leak, an attacker may be able to cause the application to leak quickly and therefore cause the application to crash.
Exposure period
• Languages: C, C++, Fortran, Assembly
Required resources
Likelihood of exploit
Avoidance and mitigation
• Pre-design through Build: The Boehm-Demers-Weiser Garbage Collector or valgrind can be used to detect leaks in code. This is not a complete solution as it is not 100% effective.
If a memory leak exists within a program, the longer a program runs, the more it encounters the leak scenario and the larger its memory footprint will become. An attacker could potentially discover that the leak locally or remotely can cause the leak condition rapidly so that the program crashes.
In C:
bar connection(){
foo = malloc(1024);
return foo;
endConnection(bar foo){
int main() {
//thread 1
//On a connection
//thread 2
//When the connection ends
Here the problem is that every time a connection is made, more memory is allocated. So if one just opened up more and more connections, eventually the machine would run out of memory.
Related problems
Not available. | dclm-gs1-011960000 |
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1. Home & Family Is MPA a joke? I noticed my Samsung refrigerator freezer side is not making ice ( ice melts to water) , and also building up moisture in the freezer side. I use internet to schedule appointment and received a computer message to contact customer service. I called the number and customer service rep. gave me an appointment for Aug 6th. It is two weeks away from my initial request(July 26). I checked again the website for faster response and noticed that if I pay $65.00 service charge you get appointment on July 31st. What a rip off? I paid 3 year maintenance contact for peace of mind and sears is ripping me off. If water leaks in the kitchen it will damage the wood floor also. Why your sales people want us to buy MPA if you cannot protect the customers in a reasonable time frame? | dclm-gs1-011970000 |
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Mandark's picture
407 pencils
If would get that in the mail...i would freak out!! not touch it not read it...not funny. what's next? a finger DM? damn...
sneakyhands's picture
1857 pencils
it's a great event to sponsor and promote for the brand, but yeah, the DM blood bag goes too far. why not save the blood bags for the donation centers? it would be less wasteful and more sanitary.
whitespace's picture
1955 pencils
cool stuff.
i think the blood bags aren't the sanitary type... just created for promotion purposes.
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October 01, 2011
AJP CME Course for October 2011: Association of the Alzheimer's Gene SORL1 With Hippocampal Volume in Young, Healthy Adults
Self-Assessment Quiz - Expired
The SORL1 (sortilin receptor 1) gene examined in this study has been linked to Alzheimer's disease due to its influence on the production of which of the following proteins?
The analysis of which of the following brain structures in healthy young adults revealed a significant gene-wide association for SORL1?
Which of the following showed the most significant association with decreased hippocampal volume in SNP-by-SNP and haplotype analyses? | dclm-gs1-011990000 |
TY - JOUR T1 - THe assessment of social disability AU - Ruesch J Y1 - 1969/12/01 N1 - 10.1001/archpsyc.1969.01740240015003 JO - Archives of General Psychiatry SP - 655 EP - 664 VL - 21 IS - 6 N2 - TWO developments have significantly altered the assessment of deviant behavior: the introduction of computers and the emphasis on social rather than psychological functioning. The computer has become indispensable for the modern scientist. He relies on it for medical literature analysis and retrieval,1 for the establishment of electronic data banks for use in clinical medicine, for computer-based recordings of physician's findings and comments,2 and for self-administered screening systems for newly admitted patients.3,4 In the narrower field of psychiatry, there exist computer-based methods for the initial psychiatric interview,5 recording systems for all psychiatric data,6 and programs for arriving at differential diagnosis.7,8 An attempt to simulate the verbal behavior of physician and patient led to the substitution of computers for living persons.9 Man-machine interaction thus can be expected in the future to play a greater role in the SN - 0003-990X M3 - doi: 10.1001/archpsyc.1969.01740240015003 UR - http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archpsyc.1969.01740240015003 ER - | dclm-gs1-012000000 |
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Incursion issue: China tones down rhetoric, urges patience
PTI Apr 25, 2013, 09.09PM IST
(Toning down its rhetoric…)
BEIJING: Toning down its rhetoric on incursion, China today counselled patience saying favourable conditions should be created for the two countries to solve the issue through friendly consolations.
At separate media briefings, both the Chinese Foreign Ministry and the Defence Ministry maintained that the People's Liberation Army ( PLA) had not intruded into India and had not caused any "provocation".
Urging the media to be patient, Foreign Ministry spokesperson Hua Chunying said, "We also believe that the two sides continue to solve the issue in a friendly manner and we will not let the issue affect border peace and security and normal development of China-India relations".
The Chinese Defence Ministry too refuted reports that it troops and aircraft trespassed the LAC.
Yang told the local media here that Chinese and Indian border troops are maintaining communications through existing channels to resolve the issue.
Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson said, "I do not agree with your allegation that it is the Chinese side that has caused the provocation between the border troops".
"It is inevitable for problems to prop up in border areas. When there is a problem it should be resolved through friendly consultations though existing mechanisms and channels", she said.
She was replying to questions about the intrusion of Chinese troops at the Depsang Valley in Ladakh. | dclm-gs1-012010000 |
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollectionsColin Firth
Colin Firth's royal pains
For the actor, his physically and emotionally demanding role in 'The King's Speech' has been difficult to shake.
November 25, 2010|By Steven Zeitchik, Los Angeles Times
"At the end of some days on set I would get headaches, and a few times I did something weird to the nerves in my left arm and couldn't move it. I still don't know what it was," Firth said of his leading part in the highly anticipated royals drama, which opens in Los Angeles on Friday. "It sounds like an actor trying to talk about the rigors of the role, but it really was the strangest thing."
Filmgoers might not be surprised to hear that Firth's performance took on a physical cast. In a turn as demanding as it is subtle, the actor plays Bertie, the future King George VI, afflicted by a stammer so crippling he can't speak publicly. It's a malady with geopolitical consequences, as he is urgently needed to reassure a British public anxious about Hitler's rise and Nazi aggression. But the stuttering also has an emotional aspect — Bertie is the product of a repressed upbringing and a friendless adulthood.
Director Tom Hooper's film traces an improbable real-life relationship that develops between Bertie and a quirky Australian speech therapist ( Geoffrey Rush). "The conceit of the film is to take a man and isolate him as much as you can possibly imagine — and then set up a situation where a friendship has to be achieved in spite of that," Firth explained.
Even months after it finished shooting, the movie continues to play havoc with Firth's well-being. Stepping into a SoHo restaurant the day after getting off a flight from London, the actor shakes his head and, with characteristic drollness, says, "I'm too old for time zones."
He should be used to traveling. The British actor finds himself hopping planes and oceans promoting an acclaimed awards-season role for a second straight year.
Best known in this country for romantic comedies such as "Bridget Jones's Diary" and "Love Actually" (and, to a devoted female audience, Mr. Darcy in a 1995 British television adaptation of "Pride and Prejudice"), the 50-year-old has recently found himself on a new acting level. Last year, Firth's performance as a grieving gay professor in "A Single Man" earned him a lead actor Oscar nomination. He's all but assured of repeating the feat with "The King's Speech."
Firth finds the sudden attention a little surprising. "Someone asked me this morning [about my acting]: 'Did you get better?'" he recalls with a slight laugh. "I've just carried on doing what it says in the manual."
Of course there's no blueprint for becoming a successful leading man, and even if there was, Firth has hardly followed it. The actor had always sought serious roles but has often ended up as the guy chasing the girl in romantic comedies.
"I'm more comfortable in dramas than in comedies, and I think there's a certain irony that for so many years I was involved on the comedy side," Firth said, his easy eloquence, wavy auburn hair and fashionable plastic glasses confirming his reputation as the thinking-woman's heartthrob. "Some of them I'm really happy to have done. But they're not necessarily movies that I would go to."
Although his new role never devolves into bathos, Firth's Bertie doesn't shy from the more brutal manifestations of his disability. "Tom pushed me not to be afraid of how much stammering we were going to listen to," Firth said, his voice occasionally veering into a nasal register that is used to such stark effect in the film. "There would be days when I'd say, 'You want that much, you really want me to do that?' And he'd say, 'We have to go a darker place.'"
Hooper, for his part, says "Colin was concerned there would be too much stuttering and the audience would find it unwatchable. My feeling was [Bertie's condition] had to be profound."
Hooper says that Firth was the rare actor who could pull off the tricky feat of imbuing a remote monarch with heart. "One of Colin's great gifts as an actor is that he's nice to the core of his being, and you can see his tremendous humanity even as he's playing someone who's not emotionally available," Hooper said.
Firth also pored over hours of audio recordings and photographs of King George VI to prepare to play the historical figure. Yet the result is hardly a starchy period piece but an inspiring and often quite comic crowd-pleaser; the movie has played extremely well at the Telluride, AFI and Toronto film festivals, the last of which gave the film its top audience award.
Los Angeles Times Articles | dclm-gs1-012020000 |
YOU ARE HERE: LAT HomeCollectionsPaparazzi
June 10, 2007
Re "It's sprung time for Hilton," June 8 How about some real celebrity justice? Let's sentence Paris to no paparazzi for life. KATHIE MARSHALL Northridge
December 5, 2001
"Celebrity Access Shuttered" (Nov. 30) looked at the difficulty the celebrity paparazzi are having in getting access to the stars since Sept. 11. Well, the loss to the paparazzi is a gain for the rest of us, because the only things of lower value than the inane products most stars perform in are the sycophantic media that celebrate the banalities of those same stars. Steven Stark Los Angeles
October 18, 2012 | By Matt Donnelly
Ciao, bella! Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel's Italian wedding is off and running, as famous friends have landed in the southern town of Puglia. Widely published paparazzi shots have folks such as "SNL" alum Andy Samberg, "7th Heaven" actress Beverley Mitchell and music manager Johnny Wright in attendance. Wednesday saw a cocktail reception at exclusive beach club Cala Masciola, a luxury haven on the Adriatic Sea, where lanterns and Champagne awaited the casually dressed crowd. Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On" piped through the fete , extra-exclusive as according to Masicola's website the beach is closed through Oct. 31. The entire party was later treated to a 10-minute fireworks show. Timberlake and Biel have been engaged since December.
May 6, 2001
Two facts are closely related: Fans think baseball agent Scott Boras is the devil ("Running Down Scott Boras," by Ross Newhan, April 8) and the masses blamed the paparazzi for the death of Princess Diana. Quite simply, the public is the villain in both cases. If fans are dumb enough to spend more than $100 to take their families to a ballgame, then [baseball] owners will use that money and TV advertising revenue to bid millions for players. If fans stay home for a while, it all collapses and sanity might return.
January 6, 2013
Re "Bieber has point on paparazzi," Column, Jan. 4 David Lazarus calls celebrity paparazzi parasites "whose sole motive is personal enrichment. " On the other hand, war journalists fearlessly put themselves in harm's way "to perform a public service and document a bona-fide news story. " I can't see celebrity photographers as any more parasitical than any other ancillary job to celebrities. How is it different than someone who sells rock T-shirts? And although war journalism can be noble, one could see a parasitical aspect to it. News organizations know war coverage sells papers and boosts viewership.
October 18, 2005
Re "Paparazzi Flash New Audacity," Oct. 16 Don't blame the paparazzi; blame the fools who buy the magazines. Are their own lives so dull they have to read that trash? RICK LEDGER San Gabriel Re "Paparazzo Says He's a Scapegoat of Hollywood," Oct. 13 The tables are turned and photographer Todd K. Wallace doesn't want his picture taken. Just remember your own response, Mr. Wallace, the next time you force your way closer to get "just that shot" of such stars as Demi, Ashton or Paris.
June 19, 2010 | By Robert Faturechi, Los Angeles Times
A Malibu jury deadlocked Friday in the trial of two surfers charged with beating a French paparazzo on the beach two years ago. The hung verdict comes after about half a dozen delays in the trial of Skylar Peak, 26, and Philip Hildebrand, 31, who were each facing one count of misdemeanor battery. The June 2008 incident was caught on camera and spread across the Internet. A dozen paparazzi were angling for a shot of actor Matthew McConaughey when they were confronted by a group of local surfers, including Peak and Hildebrand.
Los Angeles Times Articles | dclm-gs1-012030000 |
What's involved in a car tune-up?
July 28, 2009 2:30 PM Subscribe
Car care: (1) How often, generally speaking, should I change my spark plugs and plug wires? (2) When a vehicle gets a "tune up," what, exactly, does this mean? What gets tuned? Thanks!
posted by jackypaper to Travel & Transportation (12 answers total) 3 users marked this as a favorite
Depends on the age of the car.
On most recent cars original plugs are made to last 100,000 miles.
On older cars without fuel injection, a tuneup means replacing the plugs, and then points and condenser. And then adjusting the carburetion. But most cars in the past 15 or so years do not have those parts, nor do they have carburetors. So, "major maintenance" usually includes changing out the timing belt, and maybe changing transmission fluid, as well as the plugs and plug wires (or however the plugs are connected).
YMMV. . .
posted by Danf at 2:36 PM on July 28, 2009
FYI, replacing the plugs and wires yourself is a fairly easy task. They screw in/out without a problem.
Changing a timing belt or chain seems like a very labor intensive process (I've never done it, but I've read the manual to see what needs to be done).
posted by spikeleemajortomdickandharryconnickjrmints at 2:41 PM on July 28, 2009
Speaking really generally, I'd say new plugs and wires approximately every 30-50 thousand miles. At Audi, all of our cars call for new plugs at 55k or before. There may be plugs that claim a 100k lifespan, but every manufacturer that I can think of calls for plug replacement before 60,000.
Plugs may be changed more frequently on an older (pre 1990) car.
It'd be really helpful to know what kind of car you're talking about. Your owner's manual will have a schedule in it.
"Tune up" is somewhat of an antique term. Old cars required adjustments in regards to ignition timing and fuel mixture. New cars run on non-adjustable computer control so a "tune up" these days will consist, generally, of new filters (fuel and air) new plugs and wires (unless it's coil-on-plug), maybe a fluid flush of sorts, and some places will clean the carbon out of the throttle body and even run a solvent through the fuel injectors. Nothing gets "tuned" on a new car, just refreshed or restored.
A timing belt is typically a major service all its own and a major "tune up" style service is performed a half the timing belt interval. For example, a 50k will be a major tune up and 100k will involve a timing belt and water pump replacement.
posted by Jon-o at 2:44 PM on July 28, 2009 [1 favorite]
Not always; the link also gives some info about the increased lifespan of modern spark plugs. Your owners manual will tell you what is recommended for your particular car or you can probably find the info on the internet.
posted by TedW at 2:51 PM on July 28, 2009
In addition to the above, nowadays a "tune-up" will usually include a "thorough 40 point inspection", many of which will include mundane things like looking at the tires, checking their pressure, making sure the headlights work, etc. All for the low low price of $399.00 (or some ridiculous price).
I'm not saying it's a waste to have your car checked by a professional, but a lot of what you get is really straightforward stuff.
When in doubt, your owner's manual will tell you appropriate intervals to change things like air filter (very easy), spark plugs (usually easy), oil (easy but messy), transmission fluid (not always easy, messy), timing belt (professional time for most people), etc. These can vary widely by vehicle and usage.
posted by Big_B at 2:53 PM on July 28, 2009
1) It depends, somewhat, on the age and condition of your vehicle. Late model cars with modern high voltage electronic ignitions, platinum spark plugs, and fuel injected engines, dynamically "tune" themselves, to a great degree, and the reduction of moving parts, and better materials mean you may only need to replace your plugs and spark plug wires every 60,000 or so miles. Older cars, from the 70s and early 80s, often had semi-mechanical ignitions and fuel metering systems, with a rotating spark distributor and mechanical ignition points, as well as a carburetor for mixing fuel and air, all of which needed much more frequent adjustment and/or replacement, perhaps as often as every 10,000 to 12,000 miles. Follow your owner's manual service recommendations, for the type of driving that you do.
2) Again, it depends on the age and condition of your vehicle. In a modern car, there will be recommendations for inspection and replacement of various ignition and fuel system components at 30,000, 60,000, and 90,000 mile intervals (and thereafter, at generally 30,000 mile intervals). Air filters and fuel filters should be changed on schedule, or as dirt found in inspection dictates. Spark plugs and wires will usually be replaced at 60,000 miles. On fuel injected cars, fuel pressure and flow are usually checked when the spark plugs are replaced. Spark timing may be checked with a timing light, but rarely needs to be adjusted. Oil and lubrication services are also generally done at "tune up" intervals, although they should also be done at recommended intervals in between. Engine accessory belts, hoses and vacuum lines, and valve timing belts are also generally checked and replaced as needed.
On older Detroit V8 cars, a 12,000 mile tuneup used to typically include replacement of air filter, oil filter, fuel filter, and an oil change, as needed. Then, spark plug replacement, inspection/replacement of ignition points and condenser, check of spark coil output voltage, test/replacement of spark plug wires, replacement of spark plugs, adjustment of ignition timing and dwell, cleaning and inspection of carburetor, adjustment of idle mixture, check of carburetor accelerator pump function, carburetor float valve level, and a check for vacuum leaks. Inspection of engine accessory belts and hoses. About every 24,000 miles, a cooling system service was also usually done.
posted by paulsc at 2:54 PM on July 28, 2009
A note about spark plugs - internet forums devoted to your car's model are a fantastic resource for this sort of thing. On some cars the coils mount just above or on the spark plugs, and you need to be careful not to damage them while you are working or you are going to start spending a lot more money. I've learned some very valuable tricks on reading forums and can chance the plugs on our 4-cylinder car in five minutes. I have yet to attempt this on my v6.
posted by Big_B at 2:56 PM on July 28, 2009
Wellll...sort of. Many modern cars have individual ignition coils on each plug. Some of them can be downright fragile to remove intact(*COUGH*vw*COUGH*) In other instances, some plugs are almost unreachable. The rear bank on my Maxima, for instance (my aching back!) But, yeah, in general, plugs can be pretty easy. Definitely something a first-time DIYer should have no problem tackling.
Timing belts should be done only by someone who really knows what they are doing. Serious damage can be had if done wrong. Timing chains rarely, if ever, need replaced. Our Maxima has over 300k on it and the timing chain has never been serviced.
Re: "Tune-ups"...A couple months ago, we took one of our cars to the local Midas (I know, I know) for brake work. While there, a woman came in and asked about getting a tune-up for her recent-vintage mini van. To my astonishment, the manager told the woman that, for modern computerized cars, there really was no such thing as a "tune-up" anymore. They would hook it up to the diagnostic equipment, see if there were any trouble codes, check the fluids and pads and that's about all there is, unless the computer finds a problem. I was simply amazed that he didn't just say "Sure, we can do a tune-up" and rob her for $300 or something. I was impressed with the honesty.
posted by Thorzdad at 3:17 PM on July 28, 2009
Generally the term for tune-up is inspection. There is usually a minor and a major, call your dealer and ask them what they do for each.
Here's a quick list of what is usually done for BMW Inspection I/II, I would expect similar for your car.
posted by wongcorgi at 7:26 PM on July 28, 2009
Agreed- no more such thing as a tune up.
My experience: I've had a couple of cars with the 100,000 mile plugs in them, and they did last 100,000 miles. The KEY point when using platinum plugs is to know whether your car uses a "waste spark" system. If it does, you MUST use double-platinum plugs. A dollar or two more a piece, but without that, the plugs eat themselves alive. Also, the spark plugs (in this sort of modern vehicle with the platinum plugs) usually aren't the cause of any problems. They just don't wear out they way they used to.
All cars need these days is maintenance.
-Oil according to the preferred schedule.
-Air filter should be checked often, and replaced when it's dirty. (This *can* make a huge difference.)
-If the manual suggests changing the timing belt, it is usually a good idea to do so when they suggest it. When they fail, they can cause a lot of problems.
If you start getting drivability issues, things to check are spark plug wires, oxygen sensor(s) and MAF/MAP sensors.
Other than that, pretty much just fix stuff when it breaks.
posted by gjc at 7:31 PM on July 28, 2009
If you have the owner's manual for your car, it will have this information in it, as well as the schedule for all other maintenance. Depending on the car, you may be able to find a .pdf of the owner's manual online.
Like other posters have said, modern cars don't really need to get "tuned" the way older cars with carburetors and points did.
posted by zombiedance at 10:34 PM on July 28, 2009
Even if your car calls for plugs only after 100,000 miles, I'd still jump the gun and replace them as early as 70k. Not because the plugs won't last, but because of the increasing difficulty and risk of extracting the plugs. Most new engines have aluminum cylinder heads and at high mileage, after being heat soaked for about 7 or 8 years, the steel threads of the spark plug aren't so willing to unscrew. In the past, I've had three spark plugs SNAP OFF AT THE NUT on high milage cars. A 4.3 Blazer, a 3.0 Ranger, and a 3800 Impala, each with about 100-120k on them. Also, if a spark plug wire goes untouched for 100k, it becomes practically welded in place and the amount of effort to remove them is totally unreasonable, especially on a front-wheel drive V6 like the 3800. The rear plugs and wires are subjected to so much un-dissipated heat. I have vivid and unpleasant memories of sitting on top of the engine in that Impala, struggling to my wits end to remove the spark plug wire in one piece, and the feeling totally sick in my stomach when the spark plug snapped of. Then, I spent the next several hours extracting the old plug, having to view the whole process through a mirror since I couldn't fit my head between the firewall and the cylinder head. I had to chip the old porcelain insulator out of the core and then clear the threads without allowing the metal into the combustion chamber. It sucked.
There is absolutely ZERO harm in changing your plugs early, but the longer you put it off, the more stubborn they become.
posted by Jon-o at 4:09 AM on July 29, 2009
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This thread is closed to new comments. | dclm-gs1-012040000 |
Take the 2-minute tour ×
My ability to update stopped recently, with all calls to *ubuntu.com and ubuntuforums.com failing completely. Things just time out, but other sites work just fine.
It's happening upstream of my router; traceroute from my router fails to connect. It's not on my computer either; when connected on wifi, my Android phone fails to connect also, but when I get off wifi my phone gets to ubuntu.com without problems.
I can visit ubuntu.com in a browser only if I go through an anonymous proxy.
The problem isn't DNS, either, as it resolves an IP address, but I tried a few different DNS servers just in case.
I've tried updating my repositories in package manager, but they all also fail.
What happened? Is it possibly my ISP blocking all traffic to ubuntu.com and the mirror domains? Is ubuntu mad at my IP address or range?
I am running Linux Mint 13, Kernel 3.2.0-26-generic-pae.
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It could also be that Mint is jealous and does not want Mint users checking out the sexy curves of other... more experienced distros ^^. – Luis Alvarado Aug 27 '12 at 1:47
Mint is built on top of Ubuntu, so probably not that. Maybe Ubuntu is angry that I'm using Mint instead of their increasingly frustrating interface. – Bob Baddeley Aug 27 '12 at 3:07
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closed as off topic by roadmr, hbdgaf, Jacob Johan Edwards, izx, heisenberg Aug 27 '12 at 18:14
4 Answers
up vote 2 down vote accepted
Please have a look at this thread, especially my answer. Could this be your issue? It started about 24 hours ago.
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Yes! This is consistent with what I've been seeing. Thank you. – Bob Baddeley Aug 27 '12 at 16:14
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I had same problem after update like you, and just close my modem waited 15 seconds and open it again. And problem solved :)
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Bob - I'm having the exact same issues and my ISP is also Charter. I just got off the phone with their tech support and they said they are not blocking Ubuntu.com or any of it's subdomains on their end. The tech is going to pass a note on to my local office to make sure there's not any routing issues though. I really don't know what's going on because I can access it on my cell (once I take it off my wifi) and at my office. I've tried several different DNS servers (OpenDNS, Google & Charter) and it doesn't make any difference.
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You appear to have an ISP that is blocking the connection to a particular site. This case, ubuntu.com. I also had to deal with this via a anonymous proxy.
This is all true, assuming you do not have a firewall/router/network device that is blocking your connection to this site.
Can you use another ISP service provider with your own PC and see if this is still true. In my case I had several russian sites blocked.
NOTE: Also remember that this site is ubuntu specific. For other versions (Including derivatives) you can go to other stack exchange sites like for example Unix & Linux).
share|improve this answer
Thanks, Luis. I put it in this forum because it was about ubuntu.com blocking me, and not a question specific to the OS. Using an anonymous proxy is allowing me to make progress, albeit slow. It seems odd that Charter would be blocking it. – Bob Baddeley Aug 27 '12 at 3:06
I recommend to try what I did. Ask a friend for just a moment to give you a couple of minutes with their ISP (Assuming is another ISP). That way you will know for sure. – Luis Alvarado Aug 27 '12 at 4:08
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| dclm-gs1-012050000 |
Take the 2-minute tour ×
I have an HP Workstation Z820. I would like to install Ubuntu 11.04 on it, but I cannot boot the live CD. There is an SSD and HHD on the machine, but no operating systems are installed on it. System has UEFI architecture, and on the BIOS, CD/DVD drive appears under both UEFI Boot Sources and Legacy Boot Sources.
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1 Answer
According to HP's Web site, this computer ships with Windows 8. Therefore, it almost certainly ships with Secure Boot active. Ubuntu 11.04 was released well before Ubuntu added Secure Boot support to its OS (with version 12.10), so to get Ubuntu 11.04's installer to boot, you'll need to disable Secure Boot. (Note that the procedures to do so vary greatly from one computer to another; the reference describes how to do it on one computer, but yours is almost certain to be different.)
Also, Ubuntu 11.04 is nearly two years old, and it has some very serious EFI-related bugs, such as this one. What's more, it's so old that it likely lacks drivers necessary for a brand-new computer. Therefore, I strongly recommend against installing Ubuntu 11.04 on your system. Instead, you should try 12.10, or at the very least 12.04LTS if you want an LTS edition -- but given the fact that you're installing on such a new computer, 12.10 is likely to be a better choice.
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