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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20828 | Cluster Headaches Related Diseases & Conditions
Medical conditions are often related to other diseases and conditions. Our doctors have compiled a list of ailments related to the topic of Cluster Headaches. These conditions may be a cause or symptom of Cluster Headaches or be a condition for which you may be at increased risk.
In This Article
Headache Article
• Headache facts
• What is a headache?
• How are headaches classified?
• What are primary headaches?
• What are secondary headaches?
• What causes tension headaches?
• What are the symptoms of tension headaches?
• How are tension headaches diagnosed?
• How are tension headaches treated?
• What causes cluster headaches?
• What are the symptoms of cluster headaches?
• How are cluster headaches diagnosed?
• How are cluster headaches treated?
• Can cluster headaches be prevented?
• What diseases cause secondary headaches?
• How are secondary headaches diagnosed?
• What are the exams and tests for secondary headaches?
• When should I seek medical care for a headache?
In This Article
Brain Tumor Article
• Brain tumor facts*
• What is the brain?
• What are the tumor grades and types?
• Tumor grade
• Types of primary brain tumors
• What are the risk factors for brain tumors?
• What are the symptoms of a brain tumor?
• How are brain tumors diagnosed?
• What is the treatment for a brain tumor?
• What type of surgery is available for brain tumors?
• Radiation therapy for brain tumors
• Chemotherapy for brain tumors
• What about a second opinion for brain tumor treatment?
• Nutrition during brain tumor treatment
• What supportive care is available for patients and caregivers?
• What about rehabilitation after brain tumor treatment?
• What about follow-up care after brain tumor treatment?
• Sources of support
• Taking part in cancer research
In This Article
Stress Article
• Stress facts
• What is stress?
• A brief history of stress
• What are the signs and symptoms of poorly managed stress?
• Who is most vulnerable to stress?
• Teen stress
• What is the healthy response to stress?
• How does the response to stress work?
• What is the role of the locus coeruleus in stress?
• How do the connections in the brain work in stress?
• Conclusions about the effects of stress
• What can people do for stress management?
• What's in the future for stress?
In This Article
Aneurysm (Brain) Article
• Brain aneurysm facts
• What are the signs and symptoms of brain aneurysm?
• How is brain aneurysm diagnosed?
• What is the treatment for brain aneurysm?
• What is the outcome of brain aneurysm?
• What are future directions for the treatment of brain aneurysm?
In This Article
Nausea and Vomiting Article
• Nausea and vomiting facts
• Introduction to nausea and vomiting
• What causes nausea or vomiting?
• Acute gastritis and nausea and vomiting
• Central causes of nausea and vomiting
• Nausea and vomiting associated with illness
• Nausea and vomiting from medications and medical treatments
• Nausea and vomiting and bowel obstruction
• Nausea and vomiting in pregnancy (morning sickness)
• Vomiting in infants
• What are home remedies for nausea or vomiting?
• When should I call the doctor regarding nausea and vomiting?
• How is the source of nausea or vomiting diagnosed?
• What is the treatment for nausea and vomiting?
In This Article
Alcoholism Article
• Alcohol use disorder facts
• What is alcohol abuse?
• What is alcoholism?
• What differentiates alcohol abuse from alcoholism?
• What are risk factors for alcoholism?
• What causes alcoholism? Is alcoholism hereditary?
• How do physicians diagnose alcohol use disorder?
• What are the stages of alcohol use disorder?
• What is the treatment for alcohol use disorder?
• What medications treat alcohol use disorder?
• How can you tell if someone has a drinking problem?
• Can an alcoholic just cut back or stop drinking?
• Is there a safe level of drinking?
• Is it safe to drink alcohol while pregnant?
• Is it possible to prevent alcohol use disorder?
• What is the prognosis of alcohol use disorder?
In This Article
Sleep Article
• What is sleep?
• What are the stages of sleep?
• How much sleep does a person need?
• What are signs and symptoms of sleep deprivation?
• What are and what causes sleep disorders?
• How are sleep problems diagnosed?
• How are sleep problems treated?
• Sleep hygiene
• Other therapies
• Sleep aids (prescription and OTC)
• Are sleep problems and disease related?
• How can I get a good night's sleep?
In This Article
Smoking (How to Quit Smoking) Article
• Smoking and quitting smoking facts
• What problems are caused by smoking?
• What is addictive disease and why is smoking considered addictive?
• What are the signs of cigarette addiction?
• Why should someone quit smoking?
• What are the steps in quitting?
• Getting ready to quit smoking
• On the day you quit smoking
• Staying quit
• What methods can help a person quit smoking?
• Behavioral modification and self-help literature to quit smoking
• Nicotine replacement therapy to quit smoking
• What prescription products are available for smoking cessation?
• How are nicotine-containing products used safely?
• What is in the future for smoking?
In This Article
Migraine Headache Article
• What is a migraine?
• What are the risk factors for migraine?
• What causes migraines?
• What triggers migraines?
• What are the signs and symptoms of migraines?
• How are migraines diagnosed?
• What is the treatment for migraines?
• What self-care treatment measures work for migraines?
• How are migraines managed during pregnancy?
• How are migraines managed in children?
• What is the prognosis for migraines?
• Can migraines be prevented?
• Nicotine Nicotine is delivered to the brain through smoking, chewing, or sniffing tobacco. Nicotine is an addictive agent. Common names...learn more »
In This Article
Nicotine Article
• What is tobacco addiction?
• Is nicotine addictive?
• Is nicotine the only harmful part of tobacco?
• How is tobacco used?
• What are the common street names for cigarettes, smokeless tobacco, and hookah smoking?
• How many teens smoke or use tobacco products?
• How does tobacco deliver its effects?
• What happens when someone uses tobacco for long periods of time?
• What are other adverse health effects of smoking and tobacco abuse?
• Smoking and pregnancy: What are the risks?
• How is tobacco addiction treated?
• What if a person wants to quit smoking or using tobacco?
• Prevention Enjoying a healthy diet helps to prevent diseases. A good diet also helps to control celiac disease, diabetes, and high blood...learn more »
In This Article
Prevention Article
• Maintaining health
• Preventing and controlling diseases
• Vitamins and minerals to maintain health
• Vitamin supplements to prevent diseases
• Diets to control and or treat disease |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20830 | Jambolan Information | Evidenced-Based Supplement Guide on MedicineNet.com - How does Jambolan work?
How does Jambolan work?
Jambolan seed and bark contains chemicals that might lower blood sugar, but extracts from jambolan leaf and fruit don't seem to affect blood sugar. Jambolan also contains chemicals that might have antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects.
Are there safety concerns?
Jambolan is possibly safe for most people, but the potential side effects are not known.
Do not use jambolan if:
• You are pregnant or breast-feeding.
• You are scheduled for surgery in the next two weeks.
Therapeutic Research Faculty copyright
Report Problems to the Food and Drug Administration
|
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20870 | "The corporation sweeps allegations under the carpet": BBC reporter who killed himself accused bosses of cover-up
His father said the female former colleague made unwanted advances towards his son around five years ago
Family Handout
Torment: Russell Joslin
A BBC reporter who killed himself after he complained of being sexually harassed by a colleague accused bosses of a “cover-up” in a series of text messages to friends.
Russell Joslin, 50, said his allegations about the woman, who cannot be named for legal reasons, were ignored by chiefs at BBC Coventry and Warwickshire radio.
In one text he compared his treatment to the alleged cover-up over the Jimmy Savile scandal, saying: “Who could possibly believe...the corporation sweeps allegations under the carpet.”
In another on October 5, he said: “I have changed since I was ill, which I blame them for. I loathe the BBC.”
Russell, from Kenilworth, Warks, killed himself on Monday at a psychiatric unit.
His family want a BBC inquiry into its treatment of Russell.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20887 | Wild Shadow Studios
Wild Shadow Studios is a game development studio started in 2008 by Alex Carobus and Rob Shillingsburg. Their first game, the MMORPG Realm of a Mad God went into public beta in 2010 and was officially released in 2011. In June 2012 it was reported the studio had been acquired by Kabam.
Related Web-Sites
Browse Games
List Games |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20889 | Ice Hockey (NES)
100 point score based on reviews from various critics.
5 point score based on user ratings.
Not an American user?
Ice Hockey is an action game for one or two players. Start of by selecting a team and customizing your players. Each team member can be one of three player types: small and skinny (very fast, but not good at checking or shooting), very large (slow, but with a strong body check and outstanding shooting strength) or average (medium speed, with average checking and shooting strength). After the teams are set up, it's time to play some ice hockey! Gameplay features a scrolling screen to follow the action, and lets you choose which of the players you wish to control when on defense (on offense you always control the player with the puck). Fights can break out between players, and the loser may end up in the penalty box. There are five different speed settings for the game, and periods can be either 7, 10, or 15 minutes long.
Ice Hockey NES The zambonies at halftime
Ice Hockey NES Face off to start the game!
Ice Hockey NES Take a shot on goal
Ice Hockey NES Face off after the referee calls icing
Alternate Titles
• "アイスホッケー" -- Japanese spelling
Part of the Following Group
User Reviews
The Press Says
Power Play May, 1988 9.5 out of 10 95
Video Games Mar, 1991 90 out of 100 90
Gamervision Jun 19, 2008 8 out of 10 80 Feb, 2004 7.6 out of 10 76
The Video Game Critic Oct 18, 2004 B 75
There are currently no topics for this game.
• Power Play
• Issue 01/1989 - Best Nintendo Videogame in 1988
Related Web Sites
Servo (55896) added Ice Hockey (NES) on Oct 20, 2002
Other platforms contributed by Corn Popper (69529) |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20890 | Sports TV: Boxing! (Windows)
missing cover art
100 point score based on reviews from various critics.
5 point score based on user ratings.
Not an American user?
Sports TV: Boxing! is a managerial simulation. The player is the owner of a small boxing promoting firm and forms world class boxers from unknown amateurs. Similar to managerial games set in the soccer business the player sets the training and diet schedules, organizes matches and reels sponsors in. Other possibilities are stock dealing and sabotaging competitors. The matches are shown in 3D and the player can give orders like "avoid him" or left-right combination".
There are no Windows screenshots for this game.
User Reviews
There are no reviews for this game.
The Press Says
GameStar (Germany) Oct, 1998 58 out of 100 58
Power Play Oct, 1998 56 out of 100 56
Gamesmania 1998 50 out of 100 50
PC Player (Germany) Oct, 1998 50 out of 100 50
There are currently no topics for this game.
There is no trivia on file for this game.
Patrick Bregger (98909) added Sports TV: Boxing! (Windows) on Jul 10, 2009 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20891 | World's Best Chess: Fritz 8 Deluxe (Windows)
Published by
Developed by
100 point score based on reviews from various critics.
5 point score based on user ratings.
Not an American user?
World's Best Chess: Fritz 8 Deluxe is an enhanced edition of Fritz 8, an interactive game for chess players of all levels, from beginners to experts.
Like the previous version, this Deluxe release offers the player choices of either 2D or 3D interactive boards. This adds 6 new 3D boards including one called the "Spanish Room". The searchable database has been enlarged and the engine has been improved.
In addition, world champion chess player Garry Kasparov provides his knowledge and expertise in a training video during gameplay. A one-year membership in opens up internet play.
There are no Windows screenshots for this game.
Alternate Titles
• "象棋高手8豪华版" -- Chinese Title (Simplified)
• "Fritz 8 SE" -- German title
Part of the Following Groups
User Reviews
There are no reviews for this game.
The Press Says
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There are currently no topics for this game.
There is no trivia on file for this game.
Jeanne (75630) added World's Best Chess: Fritz 8 Deluxe (Windows) on Nov 24, 2004 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20912 | or Connect
Mothering › Mothering Forums › Mom › Parenting › Multicultural Families › How do you speak to your kids in many languages?
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How do you speak to your kids in many languages? - Page 2
post #21 of 25
I really think this is *so* dependent on the specific situation: on the languages used and on the personalities and talents of the parents and children.
I kind of agree with Taqah that 'just speaking' with one parent will usually not be enough for fluency. (Eclipsepearl I'd say that frequent trips to English-dominant areas fulfilled that extra-reinforcement need for your kids.)
I also think that the differences between languages are quite important. Teaching a widely used language like English or Spanish is a different ballgame than trying to teach a less common one. Availability of media (books DVDs etc), availability of speaking communities for exposure, and obvious motivation for the children to learn (vs the backlash of language rejection bc it is 'not-cool' to speak the language of your funny-sounding immigrant parent) are huge.
Also teaching a language that has many commonalities/cognates with the community language is different than teaching one with a totally different alphabet, grammar and vocab.
Eg a kid with one Spanish-speaking parent who is growing up in the US in a neighborhood with lots of Latinos might well become fluent with no more effort required from the parent than just using the language consistently. Another kid growing up in the same neighborhood with one Croatian parent... not so much.
post #22 of 25
Definitely going places where English is spoked have helped but it would have been possible without. We didn't spend enough time on each visit to make a huge difference but it helped psychologically. They often made slight improvements after each time but our language success was not solely dependent on those visits.
My children would still be fluent in English, even if we hadn't made so many trips, because that's the only language we use on a daily basis together. I personally know quite a few families where the child is fluent in only one parents' language.
Remember too, we are talking about the ability to speak the language. The example you gave of a Croatian child, perhaps growing up in N. America, would be a good example. They still can be fluent, if the Croatian speaking parent is consistent and tries to expose the child to the language through other mediums (books, DVD's, Skype, etc.)
The new technologies are really making this task so much easier! No more hunting down English language cassettes (just switch the DVD) and communication with friends and family is so much better than just 10 years ago.
If you took that child and placed him directly in a Croatian language school in Croatia, probably he would not be able to pick up the material right away nor would test at age level. I know mine would have difficulty if we suddenly moved to the States.
Most international parents at least make a few visits, if not, family come to visit them (especially in say, a refugee situation). Where I'm from, there are a lot of people originally from Iran. Their children still speak Farsi, even with only one parent from there but visits to that country are out of the question. So it's actually rare to have a child completely isolated from the culture and people of that language (although I'm sure it exists, I don't know any cases like that).
So success, if you measure it by the fact the child speaks the language, is possible. You may not have a completely, equally bilingual child as you would if you, for example, lived in Southern California or Texas and spoke Spanish. My kids don't have the level of vocabulary or the writing ability of American children their age. They also make mistakes children their ages wouldn't, but they speak English with an American accent. New words and writing ability are something that can be worked on later on.
The advantage children have when little is to learn to speak another language without an accent, without relying on their stronger language to communicate. I may have to listen to a whole minute of "the thing that you use to...that looks like..." because she doesn't know what an egg timer is called in English but she's explaining it without an accent in English.
post #23 of 25
I think it best if the both of you speak in your mother tongues to your children. They have an opportunity to grow up being trilingual. To this day I regret that my parents did not do this but instead just spoke English with me.
post #24 of 25
Originally Posted by Eclipsepearl View Post
You certainly can't just expect to speak a language to your child and expect that this will be enough.
LoL! I actually did just this. I spoke only English and always English to them. They were in normal French schooling. I did have plenty of videos, English language toys, books and we made frequent trips to the U.S. and England to reinforce it. I also joined organizations and participated in events, even if it was just to show them I wasn't the only one who spoke English in the world!
I only speak English to them, in public, in front of my non-English speaking parent. We're not rude and it's usually obvious what we're saying We don't have big conversations in front of French speakers and often switch to include anyone when we do say something interesting/funny/important.
I did put my kids in local schools. While it's a bilingual program, it's French and German. Only my son has had to take English and not until he was 10. He's kind of bored. Many think we're nuts but it worked. They're trilingual! Their English is not as good as their French but not far behind. None have accents.
So OPOL with only one person speaking the minority language can work. I have three little proofs of my efforts. You just have to stick to it.
Ditto to everything. Except my kids are only with me about 30% of the time, so they really have only one person in their life to speak English with (and learn English from) and not everyday by a long shot. (although when they were little, they were with me nonstop and heard English and learned to speak in English ahead of their other two languages).
Anyway, OPOL definitely works. My kids speak both of the local languages (their school is in Swedish which is a minority language in Finland, but their dad is part of that minority) as well as English, all fluently, and without an accent.
I strongly feel that you should conduct your relationship with your child in your mother tongue, period. My dad did not (he's from Iran), he just spoke English to me, and I have always wished he had spoken Farsi with me, as my Farsi is weak at best now that I don't have his mother around to speak with anymore (my grandmother never picked up English so she taught it to me when I was little). I think it really sucks to have a relationship with a parent with a language barrier between us.
To the OP, the only way to teach Russian to your child (if you are his only source of exposure to the language) is to be a purist about it. If you want him to learn English, it will need to be from elsewhere.
post #25 of 25
Had to laugh when I read that. Not to get OT but I know a guy here in France. He uses Swedish with the kids but since they're not growing up in Finland, they're not learning Finnish. So funny how they have to constantly explain that they're Finnish citizens but speak... Swedish lol!
I took Scandinavian Politics in college and they talked about the Swedish minority in Finland. It's held up as a model example of the treatment of a minority group... Anyway, when I met him, I saw him start to explain and I popped in with "Oh you're Swedish minority Finn!" and the look of relief that he did not, yet again, have to explain it all...
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20913 | post #1 of 1
Thread Starter
The short version is that I would like to invite any of you who have G+ accounts to join;
I'm an active member on G+, which has opened a new feature called "Communities". I think having something more than the mainstream standards, right from the start, will have a positive impact on the overall G+ network. So, I've actually started a couple communities in areas no one else has thought to, yet. One such is UC. I've been over there since betas and have really enjoyed the experience of getting in on the ground floor and helping to build the network in directions that are important to me. This is another way I can do that. So, if it's of interest to you, please join and help me grow the UC community over there.
This is in no way suggesting that g+ replace mothering's UC forum, btw. I use them both myself, and feel they have different uses...even if some of the subject matters do overlap. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20914 | or Connect
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doula's at homebirths?
post #1 of 3
Thread Starter
Do any of you doula's attend homebirth? Are you able to do it exclusively, or do you have to go to the hospital often?
I really want to be a doula, but the hospital scenario just stresses me out so much. Do I have to get used to the hospital, or might there be enough demand for my services at homebirths?
post #2 of 3
I've done both hospital, military hospital and homebirth situations. It depends on the mom for me. If she is striving for a natural birth in a hospital setting and the medical staff pressures her to do things that she doesn't want to, it can be difficult. If though, she is wanting meds. or an epidural, I am there to support her decision and her. Its tough though. I really have to remove myself and just be present for her and try not to let the medical interventions or staff get the best of me.
Good Luck~
post #3 of 3
Out of 65 births only 3 were homebirth - the rest have been hospital and birth center. In my are the demand for doulas at homebirths is extremely low - for all the obvious reasons. I think mainly it's because most women do not need a doula to do the regular 'doula stuff' at a homebirth and they invite thier sisters, friends, and mothers to provide that support. The midwives in my area are very warm, careing and (for the most part) patient so the mothers who choose homebirths here have very little to worry about.
I do feel though, that doulas need to attend homebirths - for thier own sake. It helps them to see/remember what normal is.
With love,
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20916 | Kevin Drum - May 2009
Windfall Profits
| Fri May. 22, 2009 9:56 AM GMT
I've written before about the virtue of auctioning off 100% of the emission permits in any cap-and-trade program. The problem with allocating permits to electric utilities for free is that energy prices will go up anyway and the utilities will reap a windfall profit. The explanation for how this happens is a little convoluted, but it's very real: utilities in Europe profited handsomely from the first botched phase of their cap-and-trade system.
Several readers, however, have emailed to say that since most utilities in the U.S. are regulated entities, they wouldn't be allowed to raise their prices unfairly. And that's a good point. In fact, at one time I had the idea of writing a piece about how a broad emissions program like cap-and-trade (or a carbon tax) would intersect with the fantastically complex, interlocking set of state, local, and federal regulations that govern most power utilities in the United States, but I gave up pretty quickly. It didn't take long to figure out that I'd probably have to study the subject for years to have any real understanding of how it works.
Luckily, however, Peter Fox-Penner and Marc Chupka, who already have the expertise, have a guest post over at ClimateProgress on exactly this subject. Their conclusion is that Waxman-Markey does a pretty good job of ensuring that no one is going to get a windfall profit from free emission permits:
The key to W-M’s success in this area is that it is careful to give the overwhelming majority of free utility allowances to the electric or gas retail distribution company, not the generator or the entity that sells wholesale gas or power itself....State regulators, city managers, or coop management boards — who have full access to the accounts of distributors — set distribution charges so as to manage the profits earned by the distributor. This is a key point. Unlike some other parts of the utility industry, distributor profits are strictly controlled.
....Each state regulator or manager of a coop or municipal utility must conduct a proceeding to determine how the value of allowances will be treated — for example some of the proceeds might help fund energy efficiency if the regulators decide that represented benefits to retail customers. But, W-M does not allow the size of individual customer rebates to reflect that customer’s metered energy consumption.
With these provisions, it will be awfully hard for any utility to harvest a windfall from the free allocations — especially a shareholder-owned utility. Yes, the free allowances given to the distribution utility will be worth a lot. But the law is pretty clear that the benefits of receiving the free allowance go to the utility’s customers, not their shareholders.
....The important takeaway is that material windfalls are about as likely as the Washington Nationals winning the pennant this year.
There's much more at the link, including a Q&A, if you want to dive into this more deeply. And I'll confess to some lingering skepticism, since this depends largely on local regulatory authorities keeping things on the straight and narrow. Still, this is one of those complex areas that I'm just flatly unqualified to judge, so I'm outsourcing my brain a bit. Basically, if Joe Romm vouches for these guys and their analysis, then I'm ready to believe them unless some contrary evidence comes along. I'm still not happy with the vast number of permits being allocated under Waxman-Markey, but (a) I understand the political realities that forced this to happen and (b) it sounds like it's not quite as bad as I thought.
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The Guantanamo Quandary
| Fri May. 22, 2009 9:12 AM GMT
Here is Barack Obama yesterday on what he plans to do with enemy combatants currently held at the military prison in Guantanamo:
First, whenever feasible, we will try those who have violated American criminal laws in federal courts....The second category of cases involves detainees who violate the laws of war and are therefore best tried through military commissions....The third category of detainees includes those who have been ordered released by the courts....The fourth category of cases involves detainees who we have determined can be transferred safely to another country.
....Now, finally, there remains the question of detainees at Guantanamo who cannot be prosecuted yet who pose a clear danger to the American people....Examples of that threat include people who've received extensive explosives training at al Qaeda training camps, or commanded Taliban troops in battle, or expressed their allegiance to Osama bin Laden, or otherwise made it clear that they want to kill Americans. These are people who, in effect, remain at war with the United States.
Hilzoy is not pleased:
No. Wrong answer.
The power to detain people without filing criminal charges against them is a dictatorial power. It is inherently arbitrary. What is it that they are supposed to have done? If it is not a crime, why on earth not make it one? If it is a crime, and we have evidence that this person committed it, but that evidence was extracted under torture, then perhaps we need to remind ourselves of the fact that torture is unreliable. If we just don't have enough evidence, that's a problem, but it's also a problem with detaining them in the first place.
I appreciate the outrage, but this is a genuinely knotty problem. It was knotty under Bush and it remains knotty under Obama. For various reasons, some defensible and some not, Obama is right: there are almost certainly a small number of Guantanamo detainees who are (a) unquestionably terrorists and unquestionably still dedicated to fighting the United States, but (b) impossible to convict in any kind of normal proceeding.
At the same time, they aren't American citizens. They were captured on a foreign battlefield, not U.S. soil. They are, essentially if not legally, prisoners of war in a war with no end. So what do we do?
There is no president of the United States who has ever lived who would release such people. There's no president who would survive doing so even if he did. It's an impossible situation.
So what do we do? This is a case where, unfortunately, I think outrage is too cheap and too easy. We're still left with the question: what do we do?
UPDATE: Glenn Greenwald makes the argument against Obama's proposal here. Big Tent Democrat responds here.
Free Speech in Korea
| Fri May. 22, 2009 8:46 AM GMT
The South Korean government has filed fraud charges against some bloggers who inflated visitor counts for the websites:
In a statement released Thursday, Seoul police said the phony clicks could "lead to a distortion of public opinion on the Internet."
....The government has sought to outlaw what it calls Internet rumor-mongering and may seek legislation that would require online posters to use their real names.
Last month, the South Korean Supreme Court upheld a lower court ruling that fined a man $2,300 for manipulating the number of clicks on a company's website. The move was allegedly a scheme to lift its popularity ranking among domestic Internet portals.
Some of the bloggers allegedly used "sophisticated viral programs" to boost their traffic rating, which I suppose is at least colorably illegal. At least one, though, is accused of the nefarious crime of placing a coin on the refresh key so it continued to repeat hits on his posting. Off with his head!
Oh — and one more thing: all four of the arrested bloggers were anti-government activists "who had criticized the South Korean government and advocated protests after demonstrations last May against U.S.-imported beef." Is anyone surprised?
Quote of the Day
| Fri May. 22, 2009 8:22 AM GMT
From radio host Mark Levin, screaming at a caller who pointed out that Barack Obama had recently transferred a prisoner from Guantanamo to U.S. soil:
Believe it or not, it gets worse from there. And this is a man who conservatives have propelled to the top of the bestseller list.
BankUnited Collapses
| Thu May. 21, 2009 2:47 PM GMT
The Wall Street Journal is reporting that BankUnited in Florida has finally been taken into receivership. No surprise there, but the price tag might be: apparently the FDIC estimates the takeover will ultimately cost taxpayers a cool $4.9 billion — and that's for a bank with less than $15 billion in assets. I don't think even IndyMac was quite that bad.
Quote of the Day
| Thu May. 21, 2009 2:19 PM GMT
From Conor Clarke, writing about taxes on booze and soda:
That was all of nine days ago! What would we call a suggestion made in the dark ages of April?
And speaking of old (smooth segue, no?), I tried out the WolframAlpha search engine today for the first time. It's been getting generally panned, but it sure did an impressively good job on my test drive query. Check it out:
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Obama and Cheney
| Thu May. 21, 2009 12:46 PM GMT
The media framing of today's national security speeches by Barack Obama and Dick Cheney as a sort of "showdown at noon" has struck me as pretty bizarre. And yet....I just read both speeches and I have to admit that it's really not so bizarre after all: they could hardly form a starker contrast if they tried. Obama's speech is all about the rule of law, honoring American values, creating policies that look beyond just today and tomorrow, and trying to figure out how to gain genuine security in a dangerous and complicated world. Conservatives are going to absolutely howl over it.
And then there's Cheney: no regrets, no second thoughts, not even an admission that any kind of balance should be entertained ("In the fight against terrorism...half-measures keep you half exposed"). It's a pure, white hot defense of an absolutist military approach to every aspect of national security. Among liberals, Cheney's reputation as a panic-stricken Buck Turgidson will be confirmed beyond doubt.
I want to read both of the speeches before I say any more. But really, the contrast is truly spectacular. It's worth your time to read them if you haven't already.
UPDATE: David Corn has a good summary here. Jacob Heilbrunn has a good take here.
The Credit Economy
| Thu May. 21, 2009 10:27 AM GMT
Megan McArdle shares a horror story of her own about a mistaken tax lien that attached itself to her credit report for years like a barnacle from hell, but then adds a comment:
It is terrifying the power that these bureaus have assumed over us — when my bank made an error on my car loan, my first worry wasn't that they'd upped my payment by $60, but that the subsequent late charge for an undersized loan payment might show up on my credit report. This was only slightly less panic-inducing than thinking that it might show up as a shadow on a chest x-ray. The bank fixed its error immediately and cheerfully. (And may I commend the Navy Federal Credit Union to all who are eligible for membership). I doubt Experian would have been so accomodating.
But maybe it's worth remembering that the tyranny that credit scores exercise over our imagination have everything to do with the fact that we've built a society so utterly dependent on credit. If you didn't need a credit card, an auto loan, and probably a mortgage to be considered middle class in this society, these opaque and unresponsive bureaus wouldn't be the most important source of information about us.
It is terrifying that these bureaus have such fantastic power to go around saying anything they want about us with virtually no oversight. But I'd take issue with the closing paragraph here. I don't know quite how Megan intended it, but I'd argue that there's nothing per se wrong with the fact that modern economies are so dependent on credit. Widespread use of credit really does make life more convenient, really does make banking more efficient, really does enable useful advances like online shopping, and really does allow easier access to goods and services that would otherwise be difficult to get hold of. Used in moderation, it's good stuff. I sure don't want to return to the days of hauling around travelers checks whenever I fly off to Europe.
Speaking for myself, my jeremiads against the credit-industrial complex have never been meant as an attack on widespread access to credit itself. Used reasonably, credit cards are a boon and credit reporting is a necessary part of providing credit responsibly in a big, complex world. That said, credit is critically important to everyday living now, and that means that it needs to handled fairly and transparently. And that's all I want from these folks: if you make a mistake, you clean it up. If you can gather negative information automatically, you can also gather positive information automatically. If you offer a loan at a given rate, then that's the rate. If you charge fees and penalties, they should be at least vaguely related to the actual cost of the service, not made into a profit center designed to squeeze an endless income stream from the very customers most vulnerable to fine print and slick marketing.
That's all I want. It's not so much, is it?
Google PowerMeter
| Thu May. 21, 2009 9:18 AM GMT
Felix Salmon updates us on Google's PowerMeter project:
San Diego Gas & Electric [] has recently started installing what it calls “smart meters” in 1.4 million homes in southern California. It’s up to 10,000 now, hopes to get more than 200,000 by the end of the year, and have everybody installed by 2011.
Any of SDG&E’s customers can get their electricity-usage information from the utility’s own website, but now they’ll have the option of getting it straight from Google instead, embedding it on their iGoogle home page, that kind of thing. And the more they see how much energy they’re using, the less they’ll use — a 5%-10% reduction up-front, with more down the road when they start replacing appliances and light bulbs and the like.
SDG&E's smart meters are indeed smarter, but they're still outside, and they're still basically just a fancy replacement for your current power meter. What's important is having something inside that shows you in real time how much electricity you're using. Someday that will probably be a physical device, but for now Google is providing this information to SDG&E customers via its PowerMeter app, which can be embedded on your iGoogle home page. Open it up and you can see exactly how much power you're using every time you turn an appliance on or off. Neat.
The simple act of making people aware of their electricity usage can probably generate a surprising amount of conservation. And relatively speaking, it's cheap. This kind of thing could help in other areas too. Here's a cheap and simple idea, for example: place the estimated 5-year cost of gasoline on the sticker of every new car. EPA could easily come up with a formula based on average car use and recent gasoline prices, and it would almost certainly make fuel-efficient cars more attractive if people saw the savings of buying one right in front of their faces when they were comparing cars. More like this, please.
Forbidden Topics
| Thu May. 21, 2009 8:47 AM GMT
I'm having a little bit of a slow start this morning, so in the meantime here's your idiot news of the day:
Honestly, I don't even know if I blame the principal for this cretinism. He probably has long experience with mobs of angry parents making his life miserable over trivia. Not exactly a profile in courage either way, though. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20929 | Skip to main content
Vikingdom Movie Poster
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Not Yet Rated In Theaters 10/4/2013 , 114min.
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Slant Magazine
Intentionally or otherwise, Yusry Abd Halim allows the film, in all its candy-colored visuals and slow-mo-laden action scenes, to revel in its inherent campiness. Full Review
Alan Scherstuhl
Village Voice
Vikingdom trembles with great dumb joy even before we meet the apparently handcrafted hell-dragon that looks like a set of windup chattering teeth combined with a homecoming float. Full Review
Dennis Harvey
A cheerfully silly action fantasy. Full Review
Frank Scheck
The Hollywood Reporter
The fight sequences are staged with admirable proficiency despite the often cheesy special effects. Full Review
Miriam Bale
The New York Times
Poor computer-generated effects give the movie an unsettling, two-layered feel. Full Review
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20938 | measures en This Thanksgiving, Media Still Stuffed with Food Police Message <div class="field field-type-nodereference field-field-source"> <div class="field-items"> <div class="field-item odd"> <div class="field-label-inline-first"> By</div> <a href="/author/paul-wilson-joe-and-betty-anderlik-fellow-culture-and-media">Paul Wilson, Joe and Betty Anderlik Fellow in Culture and Media</a> </div> </div> </div> <p>In just a few days, Americans will give thanks for their blessings and celebrate them by stuffing themselves with a bountiful feast. Despite this beloved tradition, many in the news media disapprove of overeating and continue to call for taxes on certain foods, and increased regulation.<br /></p><p><a href="" target="_blank">read more</a></p> Articles Business and Media Institute Business Government Health Media Taxes anti fat Food FoodPolice foods measures obama obesity public Regulation shannonbrownlee Smoking tax TimeMagazine Mon, 21 Nov 2011 23:40:00 +0000 admin 27486 at |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/20961 | The Great Schlepper
At home with Obama.
So here I am, as per Sarah Silverman’s request, sitting in Hallandale, Florida, at the Kahane family estate, with my dad, “Che” Kahane, and his older brother, my “Uncle Joe” Kahane. The unedited transcript of our conversation follows.
ME: So, did you see that story about the “Great Schlep” in the New York Times the other day?
CHE KAHANE: You mean the one by Jayson Blair?
CHE: Whatever.
UNCLE JOE: With reporting by “Carmen Gentile.” Talk about a “nom de guerre.” As we used to say at PM.
ME: So who’s the “darkly tanned older man with a nipple ring?” Anybody we know? I got a buddy back in L.A. with a hundred bucks says he doesn’t exist.
UNCLE JOE: Smart guy, your buddy.
CHE: According to the story, “A large percentage of nipple-ring people are in Obama’s camp.” I didn’t know that. But it must be true. I read it in the New York Times.
UNCLE JOE: Feh! What does the Times know? I bet they don’t even know what people used to call Hallandale.
ME: So, what was that, Uncle Joe?
UNCLE JOE: “Lanskyland!” Because this is where Meyer Lansky lived! This was the home of one of the greatest figures in organized crime, ever. Makes you proud…
CHE: Not as proud as I am of the Annenbergs.
ME: I’m glad you brought that up, Dad –
CHE: I thought I raised you to call me “Che.”
ME: But your name’s Morris.
CHE: Whatever.
ME: As you know, Barack Hussein Obama the Second –
UNCLE JOE: What is he already, some kind of hereditary monarch? The Second what?
ME: O.K., Barry Soetero the First. Whatever. The point is, a lot of nasty, right-wing, Weimar Republicans –
CHE: You stole that from Frank Rich, didn’t you? The drama critic? But it must be true, because I read it in the New York Times.
UNCLE JOE: I remember the Weimar Republic… Streseman, Bruening, von Papen, von Schleicher… Schickelgruber…
ME. Whatever. My point is, that money that Barry Junior gave away to his ACORN buddies alongside that distinguished professor of education/mad bomber who just so happened to live in his neighborhood, Bill Ayers, when they were at the Chicago Annenberg Challenge –
UNCLE JOE: Chicago, now there’s a corrupt town, thank God. Do you know David Axelrod?
ME: David Axelrod’s not from Chicago, Uncle Joe. That’s “guilt by association,” as Bobby Kennedy’s pal, Joe McCarthy, famously said. Axelrod’s from Stuyvesant Town, near the Lower East Side, went to P.S. 40. His mother worked at the old lefty PM newspaper in the forties –
UNCLE JOE: Not lefty — “idealistic.” Progressive, even.
CHE: But he went to the University of Chicago!
ME: So did Ed Asner, Saul Bellow, Allan Bloom, Robert Bork, David Broder, David Brooks, Ramsey Clark, Jon Corzine, Roger Ebert, Milton Friedman, Phil Glass, Kay Graham, Father Greeley, Sy Hersh, Jesse Jackson –
CHE: “Hymietown” Jackson? “Zionist influence” Jackson?
UNCLE JOE: The Chicago Theological Seminary. Close enough for government work. But he dropped out.
CHE: Honorary degree…
ME: And Philip Roth and Susan Sontag and Thomas Sowell and Paul Wolfowitz. The point is –
UNCLE JOE: The point is, get to the point already. I know where you’re going with this. You’re going to say that this Barry Junior the Second, Obama Soetero Obama al-Punahou, al-Harvard, al-Whatever, was doling out the money of some right-wing Weimar-Reagan Republican organization like pretzels at a White Sox game, so how could he possibly –
ME: No offense, Uncle Joe, but my point had to do with Lanskyland…
UNCLE JOE: Meyer Suchowljansky. I knew him well. The old neighborhood, Havana, Miami, Batista, I could tell you stories…
CHE: Wasn’t Lansky partners with that Irisher, Owney Madden?
UNCLE JOE: And those dagoes, Frank Costello and Charlie Lucky –
ME: Guys, we don’t use words like that any more. It’s not politically correct. How would you like it if –
UNCLE JOE: Speaking of dagoes, how about that Capone? Now there was a Chicago boy…
CHE: He was from New York.
UNCLE JOE: Like David Axelrod!
ME: Brooklyn. O.K., Naples, if you want to go all the way back. But whatever. We were talking about the Annenbergs.
UNCLE JOE: Moe. I knew him when.
ME: No, I mean Walter –
CHE: No, you mean Moses. The dad. Where do you think Mr. Ambassador to the Court of St. James’s money came from?
ME: Um… TV Guide?
UNCLE JOE: Which just sold yesterday for one dollar! Which was sold to Murdoch for $3 billion in 1988. Some business! Some businessman!!
CHE: One of the greats, Moses. Started his career as a newspaper shtarker — you know what a shartker is, don’t you?
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21018 | It's ScuttleButton Time!
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Ken Rudin's ScuttleButton 042412
While most of you are riveted by today's Delaware primary, I thought I would try and break your concentration by bringing back ScuttleButton after a week's absence.
I was in Idaho last week, working with the wonderful folks at Boise State Public Radio for NPR's StateImpact project. But wherever I went, the lament was the same: "I need my ScuttleButton fix."
So here it is. Just don't forget how to play.
ScuttleButton, as you know, is the once a week waste of time exercise in which each Monday (or, as some people call today, "Tuesday") I put up a vertical display of buttons on this site. Your job is to simply take one word (or concept) per button, add 'em up, and, hopefully, you will arrive at a famous name or a familiar expression. (And seriously, by familiar, I mean it's something that more than one person on Earth would recognize.)
Good luck!
picture button of actor Alan Alda — Not much to add to that.
George to George to George — The thinking being, since we've already had a President George (Washington) and a President George (H.W. Bush), it couldn't hurt to have another President George (W. Bush) in 2000.
Women's Faults Are Many/Men Have Only Two — Notice I didn't complete the rest of the button's wording here.
So, when you combine Alda + Presidents + Men, you may just very well end up with ...
All the President's Men. The powerful Woodward/Bernstein book about Watergate that chronicled the end of the Nixon presidency, later made into a 1976 movie.
(For the record, there were lots of answers of "All the King's Men." But these guys were presidents, not kings.)
This week's winner, chosen completely at random, is ... Dan Seidman of Watertown, Mass. Dan gets a TOTN t-shirt.
P.S. Don't forget to enter my "Guess the Romney VP" contest. Deadline is April 30. Send prediction to
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21019 | Voices Of A Revolution: Leipzig
The revolution that brought down the communist regime in East Germany began in the city of Leipzig, about 100 miles from Berlin. There, a Lutheran pastor and his congregation began holding prayer meetings that eventually grew into massive demonstrations demanding peaceful change. As part of our series Voices of a Revolution, we hear from that pastor, the Rev. Christian Fuhrer.
Twenty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, we are listening to firsthand accounts of that time. All week, we will mark the anniversary with stories from people who took part in the mostly peaceful revolutions across Eastern Europe.
The mass movement that toppled the East German government began in the city of Leipzig. A Lutheran pastor, the Reverend Christian Fuhrer started holding weekly prayers for peace at his church. Those gatherings grew into nonviolent candlelit protests by tens of thousands of people.
NORRIS: Now, Reverend Fuhrer tells us everyone feared the Communists would crack down violently. But as one Communist official in Leipzig said, we were prepared for everything except the prayers and candles. Heres Reverend Fuhrer with his story.
Reverend CHRISTIAN FUHRER (Lutheran Pastor, East Germany): (Through Translator) In September, the Stasi, the secret police, started beating people up and arresting them in large numbers in front of the church. So we started to make lists of the people arrested, and we put those lists on display in public right here by the church door.
But that terrible sense of dread and fear did not subside. And I became really afraid that the people coming to the church every week were in serious danger of being shot. Yet we didnt give up on our Monday peace prayers or even call them into question. Instead, we ask other churches in the center to hold peace prayers, too, so as many people as possible would take part and spread Jesus message of nonviolence.
On Monday, the 9th of October, when we tried to leave the church after evening peace prayers, the square and the streets were completely flooded with people; people everywhere. And as this mass of 70,000 people with their candles and flowers trying to move peacefully toward the city center, I felt immense gratitude because no one shot at them. I also felt that the GDR that evening was not the same GDR of the previous day. Something huge and completely different had happened.
What I saw that evening still gives me the shivers today. And if anything deserves the word "miracle" at all, then this was a miracle of Biblical proportions. We succeeded in bringing about a revolution which achieved Germanys unity. This time without war and military might.
It was a peaceful revolution after so much violence and so many wars that we, the Germans, so often started. I will never forget that day.
BLOCK: Thats Reverend Christian Fuhrer who played a key role in the protest that led to the fall of communism in East Germany. Today, the reverend is semi-retired, but remains active in the St. Nicholas Church in Leipzig. He says the events of 1989 reaffirmed his deep faith in the power of nonviolent social change.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21023 | Forests of Yosemite, Sequoia, and General Grant National Parks
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This tree is the crowning achievement of the vegetable kingdom in size and majesty and age. It is one of the only two survivors of a once numerous genus, which, before the glacial period, was spread across the American Continent and, indeed, across Europe as well. The other now living sequoia is the redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) of the California coast which nearly divides honors with the big tree itself as the largest conifer, if not the largest tree, in the world. The redwood is as tall, or even taller than the big tree, both attaining heights beyond 300 feet; but while the big tree attains a diameter of nearly 30 feet (above the root swelling), the redwood is always more slender.
In foliage the big tree is a scale-leaved tree; but in the seedling stage the leaves are entirely free from the twig and are needle like in form, while in youthful trees, though increasingly scale-like, they still have long, free tips. In youth the branches of the big tree are slender, and the basal ones are long, giving to the tree it broadly pyramidal form. The big tree is still young when other trees of the forest around it are mature or even approaching old age. So it is not until 200 or 300 years of age that the lower branches are thinned out. As maturity approaches, at perhaps 1,000 years of age, the remaining branches, now grown to enormous size, stand out in gnarled and picturesque strength and are clothed with dense masses of blue-green foliage. The bark of the tree, at first smooth and purplish to leaden gray, soon becomes broken into ridges, and on the great trunks of the giant veterans the smooth surface film has long since been flaked off, exposing the cinnamon red color beneath. On such trunks the bark is from 1 to 2 feet thick and is separated into long, heavily-rounded parallel ridges which makes the great stems look like the titanic fluted columns of some giant temple.
The size of the big tree has been often exaggerated. The extreme height actually measured is about 330 feet. That they may reach 350 feet is not unlikely, for the largest trees have almost without exception been broken off at the top by lightning. But statements of 400 feet or over are unquestionably beyond the truth. The extreme diameter above the enormous root swellings is about 27 feet. Obviously this is the only significant way to measure the diameter, for the root swelling is no part of the cylindrical shaft. But such measurements can be made only with difficulty, and measurement at more convenient points have been made at no standard height for the big tree. That the measurements at the base are not really significant is apparent from a comparison of the figures which have been given for the General Grant and General Sherman trees.
FIG. 6.—Mariposa Grove of big trees.
The big tree grows very rapidly in youth, but not sufficient study has been given to its growth to make reliable averages available. Under favorable conditions it may grow to be a foot in diameter at 40 years old, and it is then about 60 feet high. Such a rate of growth has been known to continue for 250 years. Indeed John Muir reports one tree which was 9 feet in diameter and 243 feet high at an age of 259 years. Such growth is doubtless much more rapid than the average, and the big tree, like all other trees, as maturity comes, slows down its rate of growth. In one tree reported by Prof. William R. Dudley the increase in diameter for several centuries was only from 4 to 6 inches per century. But this maturity with the big tree does not ordinarily come under at least 1,000 years. At any rate, it is fairly certain that most, even of the great veterans of the big-tree forest, are much younger than is popularly supposed, and are probably from 1,500 to 2,500 years old. The strongest influence upon the growth of the tree is that exercised by the quality of the location in which it grows. Two trees have been found very near each other, one 24 feet in diameter, the other 25 feet, while the age of the first was 1,300 years and that of the second was 2,300 years. The oldest tree of whose age record there is no question was slightly over 3,000 years. The exact age of a tree can be determined in no other way than by counting the rings of wood which the tree lays on, one for each year of growth. The two trees which have just been cited will serve to show how impossible is even an approximately correct determination of the age of one standing tree by the use of averages or by comparison with the age of another single tree. It is not denied that the sequoia may grow to greater age than 3,000 years. John Muir counted the age of one giant stump in the Kings River Forest in which the rings for many hundred years were so fine as to require 50 or even 100 of them to make a single inch of radial growth, and the rings were much disturbed in places by fire and other injury; but he states that he counted at least 4,000 years of growth. It would therefore be rash to say that the big tree can not attain an age of even 5,000 years. On the other hand, the largest trees are certainly the strongest survivors among many that have perished around them, and these exceptionally sturdy trees grew, in all probability, with more than average rapidity. Estimates of 8,000 years for the age of these trees, based on averages or upon the growth of smaller felled trees, are valueless and almost certainly beyond the truth.
But even an age of 4,000 years must fill him who reflects upon it with awe. The ancestors of other trees which are found with the sequoia in the forest undoubtedly lived at the beginning of that period as now. But of only the sequoia were the very trees upon which we look to-day living in that far-off dawn. When Cheops dreamed the first pyramid some of these hoary giants of to-day doubtless already were springing up and hopefully taking possession of this very soil above which in lordly height and grandeur they look down upon us of four millenniums after; while Abraham and Moses and David established and led the people of Israel these hopeful seedlings grew through an exuberant youth; in the lusty strength of approaching prime they were entering into their kingdom over the forest when imperial Rome began; they stood in a calm and undaunted maturity when Jesus trod the Judean hills; and when William of Normandy fought on the field of Hastings they were already putting on the hoary garments of age. Yet there they still stand to-day, after another millennium has sped, in calm serenity and majesty, unhurt by disease, unscarred by all save fire and the hand of man, while we, creatures of a day, creep about and peep beneath their mighty shade and pass away, while they live on. And there is no visible reason, barring foolhardy destruction by man, why they should not still live for another millennium or more.
The big tree grows preferably in cool, moist situations, in dense forest on gentle slopes, and in basins and draws where soil moisture is plentiful. Its best development, which occurs in the sugar-pine type, is at elevations of from 6,000 to 7,000 feet, where the annual precipitation is from 40 to 60 inches. Its ability to withstand less favorable conditions is much greater than was formerly supposed, and it can grow, especially at the south, on drier ridges and slopes within its normal altitude, as well as downward into the altitude of the yellow-pine type and upward to 8,000 feet elevation into the fir.
The big tree is a frequent seeder and the most prolific one of any Sierra tree. Especially heavy seed years occur at intervals of from four to five seasons. The trees may begin to bear seed in the open as early as their twentieth year, although in dense forest the beginning is delayed until about the one hundred and fiftieth year. The cones are oval and from 2 to 3 inches long, and each cone may contain from 100 to 200 seeds, while so bountifully does the tree produce that a single full-grown specimen may bear 1,000,000 cones a year.
It was formerly believed that the big tree was a vanishing race of trees. This belief was partly due to the fact that in the Calaveras Grove, which was first discovered, and in the other northern groves there is little or no reproduction. This lack, however, is due to the more unfavorable climatic and other conditions which affect germination; in the southern part of this range seedlings and young saplings cover a favorable spot wherever an opening in the forest gives access to the sunlight and where mineral soil is near to the surface. As many as 2,500 seedlings have been counted on it square rod of ground. An excellent example of this young reproduction can be seen at Atwell's mill, on the Mineral King Road, in the Sequoia National Park. No one can see these lusty crowds of young trees, in every stage of growth, and believe that the species is in any immediate danger of extinction.
The big tree is singularly healthy and free from disease. It lives so long that lightning is sure some day to strike its lofty head, and the repeated fires of centuries may scar and disfigure its base, even though its bark is enormously thick and its wood difficult to ignite and burn. But of the diseases which take off its neighbors, the fir and the pine, it knows almost nothing, and its power of recuperation from injuries, such as fire, is greater than that of any other species of the Sierra Forest. To these facts is doubtless due the marvelous approach to immortality which is enjoyed by this wonderful tree.
The widely isolated groves in which the big tree occurs in the north, where it was first discovered, offered another reason for supposing it to be a dying race, of which such a distribution is usually a sign. But it is now known that the great canyons which form the breaks between these groves were the paths of mighty glaciers which formerly flowed down the Sierra Ranges. The sequoia now grows on the highlands where the ice first disappeared. The southern part of the range was less heavily glaciated than the northern, and this is believed to be responsible for the wider and more continuous distribution of the sequoia at present in that region. Exactly what the past history of the big tree has been must still be left to scientific discovery. But there is no reason, except perhaps at the extreme north, to suppose that in its present home it is facing decline or extinction.
The wood of the big tree when freshly cut is of a beautiful rose-red color, turning gradually darker upon exposure to the air. In the living tree the wood is never found decayed at the heart, and even after felling it may lie on the ground for centuries with no loss except of the sapwood. To its extreme durability is due the fact its most extensive use in the past has been for fence posts and grapevine stakes. The radial grain of the wood is very beautiful and would make it a handsome cabinet wood, except for the disadvantage of its extreme softness. The wood of this species, which is now made into lumber, is sold as redwood, along with the true redwood of the coast, although it is somewhat softer and more brittle than the latter. It is estimated that the largest sequoias may contain as much as a half million feet of lumber in a single tree. But every lover of this magnificent tree must hope that such use of it may not much longer continue.
Last Updated: 02-Feb-2007 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21030 | Thread: Driver Conusion
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Old 05-31-11, 02:03 PM #3
NVIDIA Corporation
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Join Date: Mar 2005
Posts: 2,487
Default Re: Driver Conusion
Sounds like this Ubuntu bug, where the Linux kernel is causing the GPU to stop responding before the NVIDIA driver even has a chance to look at it: https://bugs.launchpad.net/ubuntu/+s...rs/+bug/661248
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21089 | Oracle FAQ Your Portal to the Oracle Knowledge Grid
Re: Designing database tables for performance?
From: Cimode <>
Date: 7 Mar 2007 08:19:25 -0800
Message-ID: <>
On Mar 7, 4:04 pm, "Walt" <> wrote:
> "Cimode" <> wrote in message
> On 6 mar, 05:59, "" <> wrote:
> > > The time to complete is therefore far less and the "cost" in terms of
> >> time is much less.
> > So because time is the difference that makes less physical. Don't you
> > see anything wrong in that?
> Messages in this discussion have expressed it wrong, but there is a
> sensible way to describe this situation.
> When reference is made to "database data" within a client process, a
> "logical I/O" takes place regardless of whether a "Physical I/O" takes place
> or not. The "logical I/O" is the transfer of data between space managed by
> the agent of the DBMS within the client and space managed by the client
> process runtime environment. Its convenient to call the former "buffer
> space" and the latter "working storage".
> The Physical I/O is the transfer between persistent secondary storage (e.g.
> "disk") and "buffer space".
> In the case of a Physical I/O immediately followed by a logical I/O, the
> delay time due to the Physical I/O eclipses the delay due to the logical
> I/O.
> In the case of a buffer already containing the needed data, the logical I/O
> is the only delay. Something physical *is* happening in the case of logical
> I/O, BTW. It just isn't I/O.
I do not agree.
Transactional issues are totally independent from the subject of separation between the physical and logical layers. The first reason why such confusion arises is because the SQL DBMS are direct image systems that break the rule of independence between the two layers. The second reason is that proprietary and subjective definitions are continuously poured onto the ground ignoring all work that has been done before on the subject.
For clarity's sakes, one could consider that any *Requirement of direct representation of tuples* *physically* on any physical media (RAM, hd) as it could be presented to the user for interpretation, automatically establishes it as part of the physical layer. Such representation is systematic on direct image systems and therefore immediately qualifies the operation of acquisition of the user view as a physical operation and nothing else.
OTOH, one could reasonnably state that a system with true independence between the two layers does two kind of operations:
> a physical operation to establish an internal representation of data at compile or linkage edit time.
> a logical operation to establish a user view of the data at run time only
For clarity's sake and at the risk of sounding oversymplyistic (and maybe be plain wrong), the chances for any system to perform a logical operation in RM perspective, if such system represents data in memory as a user view, are quasi null. Received on Wed Mar 07 2007 - 10:19:25 CST
Original text of this message |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21103 |
Permalink for comment 560997
RE[12]: ...
by jared_wilkes on Thu 9th May 2013 02:27 UTC in reply to "RE[11]: ..."
Member since:
People literally don't know how to shut their computers off because of Windows 8. That's a pretty fundamental and rage-worthy problem.
Reply Parent Score: 2 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21104 | Linked by Thom Holwerda on Sun 21st Jan 2007 17:32 UTC, submitted by csrins
Linux PCLinuxOS 2007 Test 1 is now available for download. It is reviewed at Tuxmachines: "This release is all new, rebuilt from the ground up. Gcc is now version 4.1.1, Xorg is version 7.1.1, and they are using a 2.6.18 kernel. KDE is the newly tagged 3.5.6. This system is faster than ever on my hardware and what's more, it's still incredibly stable."
Thread beginning with comment 204090
Nice but
by OSGuy on Sun 21st Jan 2007 21:41 UTC
Member since:
When I tried to enable 3D Desktop effects, it tells me "Your hardware does not support 3D effects" and I have NVidia 7600GT PCI-E. The xorg.conf says "nv" for driver so I am not sure what's happening.
Edited 2007-01-21 21:42
Reply Score: 1
RE: Nice but
by JamesTRexx on Sun 21st Jan 2007 21:54 in reply to "Nice but"
JamesTRexx Member since:
As far as I know nv doesn't do 3D. Get the binary driver from nVidia itself, that one will give you 3D capability.
(should be in the list in aptitude, maybe by adding another repository like it has to be with Ubuntu)
Reply Parent Score: 2
RE[2]: Nice but
by DigitalAxis on Sun 21st Jan 2007 22:48 in reply to "RE: Nice but"
DigitalAxis Member since:
nv does not have 3D hardware acceleration support.
Reply Parent Score: 2
RE: Nice but
by present_arms on Sun 21st Jan 2007 21:58 in reply to "Nice but"
present_arms Member since:
open synaptic and reload (this can be done from the live cd and from installed if wished) click search and type nvidia.. select the nvidia driver you want (starts dkms-nvidia) which will download and install the driver for you) , close synaptic and open pclinuxos control center and click hardware tab then configure graphical...
it will ask if you want to use the 3d drivers anwser yes
quit out and it will restart X... log back in and go back to pcc >>>hardware click 3d and choose whether you want aiglx or xgl with either compwiz or beryl restart xserver once more and wallah
All the best
Reply Parent Score: 3
RE[2]: Nice but
by OSGuy on Sun 21st Jan 2007 22:39 in reply to "RE: Nice but"
OSGuy Member since:
Hey that worked 100% Thanks! One other final thing. From the Full 3D Desktop Effects, I have two options: use Beryl and use compiz. Regardless which one I choose, when I restart X, my windows don't have any title bars. It's like there is no window manager starting. So I can't move the windows but the special effects for menus, cube when switching the desktop etc are all here. How do I get my title bar back? I went to Configure Beryl, too many options, I am not sure which one enables my title bar.
Edited 2007-01-21 22:41
Reply Parent Score: 1 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21105 |
Thread beginning with comment 325032
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RE: Fonts
by boudewijn on Wed 30th Jul 2008 16:10 UTC in reply to "Fonts"
Member since:
No, Sappyvcv, we cannot hire a freaking font expert. Mainly because KDE, as a project of volunteers, does not hire anyone.
If you happen to be a freaking font expert, you're of course very welcome to start your copy of fontforge and create an excellent font. In the meantime, console yourself with the knowledge that everyone on the Linux desktop uses the same fonts and the same font rendering technology.
Reply Parent Score: 7
v RE[2]: Fonts
by sappyvcv on Wed 30th Jul 2008 21:09 in reply to "RE: Fonts"
RE[3]: Fonts
by lemur2 on Wed 30th Jul 2008 23:48 in reply to "RE[2]: Fonts"
lemur2 Member since:
Reply Parent Score: 5 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21106 |
Thread beginning with comment 327346
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RE[6]: Do we care? Really?
by ichi on Tue 19th Aug 2008 14:13 UTC in reply to "RE[5]: Do we care? Really?"
Member since:
I'd rather go to ~/.fonts, but if showing hidden files is too much then well, it's not like it's hidden precisely:
Considering all user config files are stored in dot prefixed directories in ~ it is also consistent, although it might not be your thing.
Reply Parent Score: 2 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21107 |
Thread beginning with comment 358586
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RE[2]: PDF support
by 1c3d0g on Wed 15th Apr 2009 02:36 UTC in reply to "RE: PDF support"
Member since:
I concur. THe only thing missing is Chrome integration, but I guess once a plug-in type system is created for that browser, support should be pretty straightforward.
Reply Parent Score: 2 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21108 |
Thread beginning with comment 450628
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RE[3]: Comment by NuxRo
by braddock on Fri 19th Nov 2010 20:46 UTC in reply to "RE[2]: Comment by NuxRo"
Member since:
"The most surprising of these is Al Franken, one of only three US senators known to use a computer.
Wow, Al Franken voted for this?
Al Franken is a comedian who lives by royalty checks and has worked with the entertainment industry for over 35 years. Are you surprised he voted for this?
Reply Parent Score: 4 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21110 |
Thread beginning with comment 550672
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Member since:
And you assume that Linux is unusable without an access to the terminal.Yet Chrome OS is exactly that - Linux without a terminal.
I use Ubuntu and, with the exceptions where I need terminal access to compile my software or install something that is really old and very technical, I barely use the terminal. It's no longer an essential tool for day-to-day use.
Reply Parent Score: 3 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21112 |
New User Account
"A collaborative political resource."
Email: Password:
Bush, Neil Mallon
NameNeil Mallon Bush
, , United States
Born January 22, 1955
Died Still Living (59 years)
ContributorNothing wrong, just gone
Last ModifiedNothing wrong, just gone
Oct 11, 2007 01:22pm
InfoNeil Mallon Bush (born January 22, 1955 in Midland, Texas) is the fourth of six children of former President George Herbert Walker Bush and Barbara Bush (Barbara Lane Pierce). Neil is the younger brother of President George Walker Bush, former Florida Governor Jeb Bush, and the late Robin Bush who died of leukemia in 1953. He has a younger brother, Marvin, and a younger sister, Dorothy. Neil is a businessman based in Texas.
Neil Bush was named after a good friend of the family, Henry Neil Mallon, chairman of Dresser Industries, George H. W. Bush's employer (Mallon had himself been hired by George Herbert Walker, George Bush's grandfather). As a child Bush spent some summers and holidays at his family's estate in Maine, the Bush Compound.
At age 11, Neil entered the exclusive private St. Albans School in Washington, DC. Neil struggled through school. A counselor told his mother, Barbara Bush, that it was doubtful Neil had the potential to graduate. Neil was diagnosed as having dyslexia, and his mother spent much time coaching him through his learning disability. Eventually his grades improved and he graduated from St. Albans in 1973.
After St. Albans, Neil attended Tulane University where he earned an economics degree in 1977, and then an MBA in 1979.
Neil Bush was a member of the board of directors of Denver-based Silverado Savings and Loan during the 1980s' larger Savings and Loan crisis. As his father was Vice President of the United States, Neil's role in Silverado's failure was a focal point of publicity. According to a piece in Salon Magazine, Silverado's collapse cost taxpayers $1 billion.
The US Office of Thrift Supervision investigated the failure of Silverado and determined that Bush had engaged in numerous "breaches of his fiduciary duties involving multiple conflicts of interest." Although Bush was not indicted on criminal charges, a civil action was brought against him and the other Silverado directors by the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation; it was eventually settled out of court, with Bush paying $50,000 as part of the settlement, as reported in the Style section of the Washington Post.
In 1999 Bush co-founded Ignite! Learning, an educational software corporation. Bush has said he started Austin-based Ignite! Learning six years ago because of his learning difficulties in middle school and those of his son, Pierce Bush. The software uses multiple intelligence methods to provide varying types of content to appeal to multiple learning styles.
To fund Ignite!, Bush raised $23 million from U.S. investors, including his parents, Barbara and former President George Bush, as well as businessmen from Taiwan, Japan, Kuwait, the British Virgin Islands and the United Arab Emirates, according to documents filed with the Securities and Exchange Commission. Russian billionaire expatriate Boris Berezovsky, Berezovsky's partner Badri Patarkatsishvili, Kuwaiti company head Mohammed Al Saddah, and Chinese computer executive Winston Wong are documented investors.
In 2002, Neil Bush said his brother's (George W. Bush) commitment to education is real, but he questioned the emphasis on constant testing to keep federal aid coming to public schools: “I share the concerns of many that if our system is driven around assessments, pencil-and-paper tests that test a kid's ability to memorize stuff, I would say that reliance threatens to institutionalize bad teaching practices.”
As of October 2006, over 13 U.S. school districts (out of over 14,000 school districts nation-wide) have used federal funds made available through the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001 in order to buy Ignite's products at $3,800 apiece.
A December 2003 Style section article in the Washington Post reported that Bush's salary from Ignite! was $180,000 per year.
Bush's relationship with Boris Berezovsky, a political enemy of Russian President Vladimir Putin currently under indictment for fraud in Russia and an applicant for asylum in the United Kingdom, has been noted in the media. Berezovsky has been an investor in Bush's Ignite! program since at least 2003. Bush met with Berezovsky, who has been described as "notorious" and a "wheeler-dealer", in Latvia. The meeting caused tension between that country and Russia due to Berezovsky's fugitive status. Bush has also been seen in Berezovsky's box at a British soccer stadium for a game, which prompted some stateside criticism. There has also been speculation in the English language Moscow Times that the relationship may cause tension in U.S.-Russian bilateral relations, "especially since Putin has taken pains to build a personal relationship with the U.S. president."
In July 1999, Bush made at least $798,000 on three stock trades in a single day of a company where he had been employed as a consultant. The company, Kopin Corporation of Taunton, Massachusetts, announced good news about a new Asian client that sent its stock value soaring. Bush stated that he had no inside knowledge and that his financial advisor had recommended the trades. He said, "any increase in the price of the stock on that day was purely coincidental, meaning that I did not have any improper information."
When asked, in January 2004, about the stock trades, Bush contrasted the capital gains he reported in 1999 and 2000 with the capital losses on Kopin stock he reported ($287,722 in all) in 2001. In 2001 Kopin joined a broad decline in high-tech stock valuations.
Bush was a founding director, along with Pope Benedict XVI (then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger), of the Foundation for Interreligious and Intercultural Research and Dialogue. The foundation promotes ecumenical understanding and publishes religious texts and was founded in 1999. Bush is no longer on the board of the foundation.
In 2002, Bush signed a consulting contract that paid $2 million dollars in stock over five years to work for Grace Semiconductor Manufacturing Corp., a firm backed by Jiang Mianheng, the son of former Chinese President Jiang Zemin, plus $10,000 for every board meeting he attends.
Bush serves as co-chairman of a company called Crest Investment. Crest pays him $60,000 a year to provide miscellaneous consulting services.
Bush frequently travels to the Middle East, Europe and Asia to negotiate deals and raise capital for various businesses. According to court filings from his divorce, in 2000 he was paid $1.3 million for such work. This includes $642,500 as a commission for introducing an Asian investor to the owners of an American high-tech company.
In, 2002, Neil Bush told the New York Post (8-14-02) that he "endured his own Ritalin hell seven years ago when educators in a Houston private school diagnosed his son, Pierce, (then) 16, with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) and pushed medication."
In a September 26, 2002 CNN Interview with Connie Chung, Neil said:
You know, we have a knee-jerk reaction in this education system where, if the kid doesn't perform well, then the reaction is to try to assign a label. The label is followed by a drug. The drug allows the kid to sit cooperatively, to pay attention, to focus in school.
Bush spent years researching the issue and found that "the educators were wrong" about his son. "There is a systemic problem in this country, where schools are often forcing parents to turn to Ritalin," he said. "It's obvious to me that we have a crisis."
Also that year, Bush testified before a hearing of the United States Congress to speak out against over-medicating children for learning disorders. Activists Lisa Marie Presley and Bruce Wiseman, both Scientologists, also testified at these hearings supporting a stricter ban on psychological medications, as opposed to Bush's warning against false diagnoses.
He has suggested that many parents fall for the ADD and ADHD diagnoses and subsequent medicating of their children because it explains why they aren't doing well in school, saying "it's the system that is failing to engage children in the classroom. My heart goes out to any parents who are being led to believe their kids have a disorder or are disabled."
Neil Bush (along with filmmaker Michael Moore) is credited in the cast of a 2005 documentary called "The Drugging of Our Children" directed by Gary Null. In the film's trailer Neil says: "Just because it is easy to drug a kid and get them to be compliant doesn't make it right to do it".
Bush and his former wife of 23 years, Sharon Smith, are the parents of three children; Lauren, Pierce, and Ashley. Neil and Sharon divorced in April 2003.
Bush's divorce deposition gained public attention when he admitted to several sexual encounters with high-priced escorts in Thailand and Hong Kong. Among other divorce testimony aired in the press, Neil Bush's friend John Spalding announced that Sharon had extracted hair samples from her estranged husband in order to place a voodoo curse on him. Sharon Bush later confirmed the forcible hair removal, but she stated that she took the hair to be tested for evidence of drug use. At various times, Sharon Bush publicly spoke of her fear of retribution by Neil, or by the Bush family.
Bush remarried in Houston, Texas, on March 6, 2004, to Maria Andrews. Andrews spent time volunteering with charitable organizations with Neil's mother, Barbara Bush. Robert Andrews, the ex-husband of Maria, sued Neil's ex-wife Sharon in September 2003 for defamation after Sharon alleged that Neil was the father of Andrews' two-year-old son.
Bush has often been invited to speak to audiences overseas. Bush says he has courtesy visits with world leaders but has no plans to wade into foreign policy. "Oftentimes because of my father's goodwill, and because of the president being who he is, people might extend an invitation, and it's enjoyable for me," Bush said. "Some of these folks are family friends."
Speaking at a Saudi Arabian economic forum in January 2002, Bush referred to growing anti-American sentiment in Arab countries and said the two peoples must communicate better. Some of his comments on the Israeli-Palestinian relations have brought him controversy.
The White House appears unfazed by his globe-trotting. "The president knows his brother will always do the right thing," press secretary Ari Fleischer said."
In Asia, Neil Bush accompanied Sun Myung Moon on his world peace tour.
In 2006, for being the 1,000th customer of Ignite! Learning, Alamo Junior High School teachers, students and administrators were visited by Bush. Asked by students if he would like to run for president, Bush said he would be sticking to his business venture. He told kids if they Googled him, they would see reasons people wouldn't want to vote for him. "The idea of being president isn't something realistic for me," Bush said, adding that students could accomplish anything. He said he takes a lot of shots from the media, particularly in his home town. "It's unjustified, but it comes with the territory of being in the first family," he said.
Title Purchase Contributor
Start Date End Date Type Title Contributor
Date Category Headline Article Contributor
Importance? 4.50000 Average
Father George H.W. Bush 1924-
Grandfather Prescott Bush 1895-1972
Grandmother Dorothy Walker Bush 1901-1992
Great-Grandfather George H. "Bert" Walker 1875-1953
Grand Uncle John Mercer Walker, Sr. 0000-
1st Cousin Once Removed John Mercer Walker, Jr. 1940-
Grand Uncle George Herbert Walker, Jr. 1905-1977
1st Cousin Once Removed George Herbert "Bert" Walker, III 1931-
Brother George W. Bush 1946-
Niece Jenna Welch Bush Hager 1981-
Niece Barbara Pierce Bush 1981-
Sister Pauline Robinson "Robin" Bush 1949-1953
Brother Jeb Bush 1953-
Nephew George P. Bush 1976-
Nephew Jeb Bush, Jr. 1983-
Brother Marvin Pierce Bush 1956-
Sister Dorothy "Doro" Bush Koch 1959-
Mother Barbara Pierce Bush 1925- |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21139 | Why Did Prophet Muhammad Go To War?
Since 9/11, there has been a lot of discussion about whether Islam requires Muslims to use military force to spread Islamic rule, and whether Islam therefore poses a threat to America and the West. Many people point to the fact that Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was a military leader who was involved in several wars, and that Islamic rule spread throughout the Arabian peninsula during the Prophet’s lifetime. They also note that later Muslim rulers, claiming to follow the example of … [Read more...] |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21142 |
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Claims that it's easier to develop security tools for more open systems, also easier to develop malware...
A security expert has suggested that Apple's closed philosophy will be its downfall, predicting that the company will lose its mobile marketshare to Android and Microsoft because people want "open, sexy, flexible" operating systems.
However, when pressed about whether Apple's closed system makes it less vulnerable, it's apparent that the motive behind the claims is dismay that Apple won't allow development of anti-malware tools for its iPad and iPhone.
Kaspersky Lab CEO Eugene Kaspersky told Reuters: "The open systems, of course they are more vulnerable because it is easier to affect them. But at the same time it is much easier to develop the true end point security for these systems."
Discussing the rise of malware in the mobile space, Kaspersky said: "Cyber criminals recognise the mobile space as an opportunity. More and more criminals are entering this area. They mostly develop the mobile malware for the most popular and open mobile systems - that's Android - so most mobile malware is written for Android."
Explaining why he predicts that iOS will lose marketshare Kaspersky said: "It's the same story as happened with Mac computers and Windows PCs. Mac has a small market share because it's a closed operating system from an inflexible company." Kaspersky believes that iOS users will switch to the "many competitors with open, sexy, flexible" systems. "I think that many iPad and iPhone users will switch to Android and Microsoft Windows," he said.
So what's so good about an open system? Kaspersky seems to believe it is connected to a company's ability to build a community. "I believe that in this century the winner is the vender, company or the person who builds a more powerful community. This is the century of communities, and to have a good community around you you have to have a brilliant technology or open systems."
"Apple has a brilliant technology," he said, adding: "Apple managed to do community around that. But now its time of open systems like Android, so I'm afraid, I'm sure that Apple will lose the market share, if they don't change their mind, they will be replaced by open operating system and open applications."
Malware on the Mac
Regarding the Mac, Kaspersky suggests that the reason that OS X experiences less malware is not because the Mac is "secure by design", but rather that: "Criminals don't pay attention to the system because they don't have Mac engineers. There are not enough Mac engineers."
Kaspersky mentions the Flashback malware from earlier this year as evidence that there are attacks on the Mac. "There are many attacks on Mac systems every year, and year by year it's getting more and more," he claims.
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Re: Code Conflation: Considered Harmful?
by FoxtrotUniform (Prior)
on Sep 12, 2004 at 03:13 UTC ( #390362=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Code Conflation: Considered Harmful?
People seem to like the idea of separating code from presentation, and in general it's a good idea, but it can impose an extra burden of complexity. For a small project, jumping on the "reuse and generality" bandwagon isn't a particularly good idea, unless you want to turn it into a large project.
There's some pretty good discussion of code-separation in the context of HTML templating at Reusable template components with HTML::Template.
Found a typo in this node? /msg me
% man 3 strfry
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Re^2: Who would win in a swordfight?
by swampyankee (Parson)
on Jul 14, 2006 at 17:09 UTC ( #561272=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Re: Who would win in a swordfight?
in thread Who would win in a swordfight?
Let's see...if this is before metal cartridges, the gunmen pulls out his muzzle-loading flintlock pistol, bites open the cartridge, primes the pan, rams home the bullet and remaining cartridge, finishes cocking your pistol, and shoots the swordsman...
In the meantime, the swordsman has killed him, returned his sword to its scabbard, and taken his purse and gun.
e(π√−1) = −1
Comment on Re^2: Who would win in a swordfight?
Re^3: Who would win in a swordfight?
by Anonymous Monk on Jul 17, 2006 at 16:34 UTC
When discussing ranged weapons, it's all about the range. :-)
Even to this day, a good martial artist can knock out a gunman before he can draw his gun -- at the right range.
At the wrong range, about all you can do is sprint like crazy to get to the right range.... Robin Hood is either most or least likely to kill the others (aside from the fact he just generally makes friends with other "heroic" figures), depending on whether he's ambushing people from the trees at a distance, or on the ground fighting toe-to-toe with a sword (like the poll title suggests...)
Re^3: Who would win in a swordfight?
by Anonymous Monk on Jul 18, 2006 at 13:11 UTC
cap'n'ball is before cartridges, and you can carry loaded
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Re: Possible Perl 6 ad in local newspaper
by talexb (Canon)
on Jan 25, 2012 at 17:50 UTC ( #949939=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Possible Perl 6 ad in local newspaper
I'm in no rush for Perl 6. I've been hearing about it for about ten years (maybe more). Right now, Perl (Perl 5) does whatever I need it to do. And it's still being actively developed and supported.
If Perl 5 development had stopped and every effort was being put onto Perl 6, I'd be more concerned. But there are lots of very bright people working on the old (and still good) as well as the new.
Perl 6 will arrive eventually, and perhaps development will slowly shift over to that. But I don't expect a tidal wave of change.
Go ahead and place the ad in your local paper if you want. I don't see any point in it.
Alex / talexb / Toronto
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Clear questions and runnable code
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Comment on
back again.. I have this perl/wxperl app (packaged with perl2exe for Windows/Linux/AIX/Solaris/HPUX and Z/linux) that I need to be able to distribute to platform X.
I cannot modify platform X to allow the app to run so I need to package all the shared objects/dlls into the runtime..
I am almost there..
the app runs, but puts out a theme warning GTK warning : unable to locate theme engine in module path: "murrine",
so, it seems I have some file missing. I have the, and
I looked at the build for the engine smooth, but it only creates one so. (
(yes, I know that one set of SO's will not work for all platforms, I have that covered already, each built runtime will only package dependent files for its requirements)
In reply to where are all the files I need? by sdetweil
and: <code> code here </code>
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"be consistent"
Comment on
Is it any wonder that Perl 6 is more starved for fresh volunteers and enthusiasts than can be reasonably explained by fatigue?
I see—it's my fault that Rakudo Star's gone nowhere usable for at least a year. That's the obvious explanation, and not that Rakudo went off the rails when it's continually failed to improve its bus number, reimplemented large portions of Parrot badly, forked into a dead branch from which Star releases slowly petered out (hey, even compiler releases slipped and skipped), and went into yet another rewrite mode which is still suffering from scope creep? Somehow I get the blame for saying back in December 2010 "Hey, this proposed rewrite has some huge risks and I'm afraid it'll take at least twice as long as you estimate?", when everyone else said "That's crazy, why are you so mean, it's fast and easy and we won't make any mistakes this time!"
My posts right here are the problem?
The most charitable one word response I can muster is nonsense.
This #perl6 persecution complex is bizarre. Every major Perl 6 implementation has had severe project management problems; blaming skeptics for not jumping up and down at the message "Yay, a single number measurement with no meaning behind it has increased, Christmas is coming!" after eleven and a half years of promises yet to be fulfilled is ... well, I don't see it working.
If you want to fix the Perl 6 marketing message, release usable software, and don't lie to people that it's useful and usable (if you pull from HEAD at the right time and can work around regressions and don't mind reading source code and not documentation and are willing to update from HEAD—wait, it was renamed nom a while back—and hang out on IRC all day and...).
In reply to Telling Users What They Want is Stupid Never Works by chromatic
in thread Hockey Sticks by raiph
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21165 |
Syntactic Confectionery Delight
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I liked Episode IV the most -- there was a lot of excellent cinematography, acting, and it was a properly-executed coming-of-age story.
Fast forward to the crap that Lucas has unleashed upon the world. Episode I failed. Miserably. From "midiclorians" to a virgin birth, from Jar Jar Binks to the pod race, from Anakin's poorly delivered lines to Anakin's poorly delivered lines... it was awful.
And then there's Episode II. First of all, there is absolutely no excuse for Yoda's abilities -- and his use of a cane to walk is not funny, it's ridiculous. Lucas is doing the wrong thing: using COMEDY instead of HUMOR. There is a difference, and he once knew it; when C-3P0 and R2-D2 exchanged banter in Episode IV, that was humor. When Jar-Jar Binks came onto the screen, I knew it was comedy, and comedy, frankly, has no place in this saga. Things can be funny, it's true, but things like that are there for pure idiotic laughter. I think the problem is that Lucas has lost the ability to get any emotion from his movie and from his audience, so he has to settle for the cheapest: the cheap laugh.
Episode II was stale -- the scenes between Anakin and Padme (good Lord, couldn't he have developed a less obtuse name than Padme Amidala?!) were torturous to watch (and by the way, Lucas designed one of Amidala's outfits... the BLACK LEATHER ONE), the dialogue was coarse and forced, the action was obligatory (meaning, "oh, it's time for an action scene!"), there are plot holes and rather obvious goofs, and the USE OF SPECIAL EFFECTS RUINED THE MOVIE ENTIRELY. Let me repeat that for you in a way that might make more sense. Lucas has placed the success of his movies in the special effects team, and neglected the actors. WHY?! You might as well make the next movie be entirely computer-generated.
I'm in the process of writing outlines for an ALTERNATE pre-trilogy to episodes four through six. I'm serious about them. I'm going to release them as fanfic or whatever.
Finally, here are a few gripes about Episodes I and II.
• Yoda is Obi-Wan's master, not Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon was never mentioned in Episode IV. Why? Because Obi-Wan clearly says that Yoda was his master.
• Midiclorians. Lucas has gone berserk.
• Count Dooku has mastered the Narrative Side of the Force. Example: "it is clear that we have both mastered the force, so let me cue the lightsaber duel."
• Why is Anakin's fake hand some weird metallic thing? Luke (30 years later at most) has a REAL-LOOKING hand.
• Padme does not need to change clothes every five minutes. Really. And the costumes she was wearing must have been purchased at the Naboo Nubile Negligee store. Honestly.
In reply to Re: Favorite Star Wars film: by japhy
in thread Favorite Star Wars film: by Petruchio
and: <code> code here </code>
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21166 | note ryan I too just tried this out. Works brilliantly first go. I modified it to traverse my MP3 directories instead of using a playlist using a common bit of [id://1317|stolen code]: <code> use File::Find; my @songs; sub eachFile { if (-e $_ && $_ =~ /\.mp3$/) { push @songs, $File::Find::name;} } find (\&eachFile, "/storage/mp3/"); </code> I've got this running under Debian on an old Pentium holding over 7000 MP3s and it creates the array suprisingly fast.<br><br> Ryan 8650 8650 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21167 | Beefy Boxes and Bandwidth Generously Provided by pair Networks Joe
Don't ask to ask, just ask
Re: Is this code secure, can I test it on my machine?
by Krambambuli (Deacon)
on May 24, 2010 at 07:20 UTC ( #841332=note: print w/ replies, xml ) Need Help??
in reply to Is this code secure, can I test it on my machine?
I'm afraid I'll frighten you with this, although it's rather obvious:
some code is "really secure", translates to "that code does nothing else than what it is supposed to do, ever, in any circumstances".
Which is the same as telling "that code has no known or unknown bug, present or future".
errr... You got my point :)
On the other hand, if you just wish to check that the code doesn't pro-actively spy out it's environment and send out passwords or the like, running it for a while on a virtual machine or in a chrooted environment and setting a Net filter around it to see if there is any suspect network activity is not hard to do.
Also, on the test machine, you could set up a file checksum app (Tripwire, AIDE, integrit, yafic, ...) that might help in making sure that none of the files in the working environment haven't been altered during the tests.
Even so, you'll catch just a tiny fraction of the possible gotchas.
It's like in real life: the better you're looking, the more dangers you'll see.
(Who would ever drink from the "clean" water at which she'd had a look through a good microscope before that...? :) ).
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21168 | Beefy Boxes and Bandwidth Generously Provided by pair Networks httptech
Just another Perl shrine
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Is this a problem with vec? My Perl build? My syntax? Any workarounds?
It's a problem with vec. Internally it is using a signed 32-bit values, even on 64-bit builds.
One workaround I've used is to break the vector into subsections and use bitmasking to select the appropriate one:
@vecs = ( chr(0)x2**29 ) x 8;; $n = 2**31; vec( $vecs[ $n >> 29 ], $n & 0x1fffffff, 1 ) = 1;;
Not very satisfactory, but workable.
In the absence of evidence, opinion is indistinguishable from prejudice.
In reply to Re: vec overflow? by BrowserUk
in thread vec overflow? by Anonymous Monk
and: <code> code here </code>
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21169 | Beefy Boxes and Bandwidth Generously Provided by pair Networks Frank
Keep It Simple, Stupid
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Both a blessing and a curse --
I'm used to using regex in Perl, or other apps using PCRE, but I have to do work in IDL ... and they have what they claim to be regex support, but it lacks:
• Non-greedy quantifiers
• lookahead / lookbehind assertions
• all of the zero-width assertions other than $ and ^
• \w, \d, \s, etc.
• non-capturing parenthesis
So ... anyway, not all regex are created equal -- Perl regex good ... IDL regex is a steaming pile.
In reply to Re: Regular expressions are: by jhourcle
in thread Regular expressions are: by cog
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21173 | Sunday, March 16, 2014
Inquirer Daily News
Questions for the mystery guest
Seeking answers from Sarah Palin
Questions for the mystery guest
Sarah Palin will give her first major interview since winning the GOP vice presidential nomination later this week. (Morry Gash/AP)
The Sunday chat shows had quite a lineup of heavyweights yesterday. We had Barack Obama on ABC, Joe Biden on NBC, John McCain on CBS, and Sarah Palin – wait a second, Sarah Palin was on…what? Surely she was somewhere on the air, let’s see…I must have missed that listing…still looking…On Fox? Nope….CNN? Nope…MSNBC? Nope….I mean, after all, this is somebody who has already been judged by McCain as ready to assume the presidency on a moment’s notice, so clearly she must be ready to step into the journalistic firing line and showcase her breadth of knowledge. Right?
Wrong. Palin is still America's mystery guest. The McCain people said a few days ago that she would remain on the sidelines, where presumably the briefers are working overtime to pour talking points into her head, until such time that she feels “comfortable.” But since their statement was a virtual admission that she's indeed not ready to hit big-league pitching, the McCain people clearly needed to erase it, pronto. And so they have. They announced yesterday that Palin will take questions later this week during a sitdown with Charlie Gibson of ABC News.
I wouldn’t presume to know what Gibson plans to ask her, but, in the interests of a venerable American journalistic tradition known as holding candidates accountable, I’d love to see these questions on the table. They ain’t all pretty – the byplay between candidates and journalists is often akin to watching sausage get made – but still:
1. Gov. Palin, news reports indicate that you are undergoing intensive foreign policy tutelage from Senator Joe Lieberman and senior members of the McCain team, including Randy Scheunemann and Stephen Biegun. Lieberman and Scheunemann are known for their ties to the neoconservatives who promoted the invasion of Iraq. Biegun last worked on George W. Bush's National Security Council. Given your lack of foreign policy expertise, how confident can we be – and how confident are you – that you are being briefed by a sufficiently broad range of people? Is the McCain campaign reaching out to include, as briefers, prominent Republicans who disagree with the neoconservatives and the Bush White House? People like Brent Scowcroft and Colin Powell, for example? Are you insisting on a broad range of briefers? If the range of advice that you are getting is narrow, how would you know?
2. You recently stated in a church appearance that the war in Iraq is “a task from God.” Imagine that you have been thrust into the presidency, and that you have to decide whether to launch a new military action. If you were to determine, in your prayers, that this new military action also qualified as “a task from God,” how much confidence should the American people have that you would carefully consider all earthly counter-arguments – including any warnings by U.S. intelligence that war was the least defensible option?
3. One follow-up on Iraq. In Bob Woodward’s new book, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice says about Iraq, “There are a lot of things if I could go back and do them differently, I would.” Do you agree with Secretary Rice? If so, since you have been vetted by Senator McCain as being ready to assume the presidency, will you share with us three or four specific things that you wish had been done differently in Iraq? For instance, in terms of execution, what would you have done differently with respect to the Sunnis and the Shiites? Can you explain to us the difference between the Sunnis and the Shiites?
4. Following up on the simple question that Campbell Brown of CNN tried to ask last week – she posed this question to a McCain aide, who ruled it out of bounds – can you give us an example of a command that you have given to the Alaska National Guard? Something specific that sheds light on your readiness to be commander-in-chief of the United States? And could you please comment on last week’s press reports that the Alaska National Guard, during your tenure as governor, has been plagued by personnel shortages that make its aviation units the most poorly staffed in America? How do you respond to the fact that the Alaska Guard’s top officer warned in a memo, earlier this year, that the lack of qualified airmen “has reached a crisis level”? How do these developments square with Senator McCain’s claim that your command of the Guard constitutes national security experience?
5. Governor, you are currently the target of an ethics probe in Alaska. It was authorized by a bipartisan decision of the legislature. You are accused in some quarters of abusing your power, that you fired the state police commissioner because he allegedly dragged his feet on dumping one of his troopers, your ex-brother-in-law. The details may be too murky for many voters, but what’s most interesting is that at first you promised to cooperate fully with the investigation – only to renege on that promise. Now you’re saying that you will only provide testimony if the legislature stops its own probe and transfers jurisdiction to the state Personnel Board – whose three members are appointed by the governor. If you have nothing to hide, why are you trying to game the process? And isn’t there a risk that your stance in Alaska might remind some voters of the Bush administration’s general refusal to cooperate fully with congressional oversight investigators?
6. Governor, you will soon become a grandmother, congratulations. You have praised your daughter for her decision to have the baby and keep the baby. You emphasize that this was her choice. But there are tens of millions of voters who would like to have a far broader range of choices. How do you intend to persuade Hillary Clinton’s voters that all women should be denied the choice of abortion, even in cases of rape or incest? Isn’t your position antithetical to what Hillary Clinton has fought for since the ruling of Roe v. Wade?
7. Governor, you keep telling audiences that you told Congress, “Thanks, but no thanks” on the boondoggle Bridge to Nowhere – whereas in reality, of course, you campaigned for that bridge project in 2006 and abandoned it only when it became a national embarrassment. How do you square your current remarks with your previous remarks praising the work of Alaska’s Republican delegation in obtaining the federally-earmarked funds? And how do you square Senator McCain’s promise to veto all earmarked projects with the fact that Alaska depends heavily on federal earmarks, and that Alaska is currently seeking projects totaling well in excess of $100 million? And how can you present yourself as an anti-earmark “maverick,” when your own representative in Washington, John Katz, recently defended earmarks in an op-ed piece, calling them “a legitimate exercise of Congress’ constitutional power to amend the budget”?
8. Governor, you and your husband in the past have attended conventions of the Alaska Independence Party. This year, you videotaped a message of greeting for the AIP’s 2008 convention, urging members to “keep up the good work.” Yet the AIP for decades has endorsed the idea of giving Alaskans the option to secede from the United States. Why have you failed to denounce a group whose message contradicts Senator McCain’s slogan “Country First”? And why do you continue to associate with a group whose founder, Joe Vogler, declared that “the fires of hell are glaciers compared to my hate for the American government” and declared that “I’ve got no use for America or her damned institutions”? Governor, why haven’t you renounced this man, the way that Senator Obama has renounced Jeremiah Wright?
9. And forgive me, governor, but I can’t resist this one. The entire state of Alaska has 670,000 people. Montgomery County, a suburban county outside Philadelphia, has 775,000 people. The Montgomery County commissioners deal with issues of sprawl and land use and environment versus economic development, just as you do, except they don’t run huge budget surpluses every year, like you do – with 86 percent of your tax revenue coming from the oil industry. Therefore, given the fact that the Montgomery commissioners have more constituents than you do, tougher budget tradeoffs than you have, and given the fact that they have roughly the same national security expertise as you do, aren’t they just as qualified as you to be vice president of the United States?
Dick Polman Inquirer National Political Columnist
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Dick Polman Inquirer National Political Columnist
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21181 |
99% - The Occupy Wall Street Collaborative Film
99% - The Occupy Wall Street Collaborative Film
The independent documentary film about the Occupy Movement, made collaboratively by 90+ award-winning filmmakers & others across North America. Check us out on Facebook!
Review: In '99%,' the Occupy movement states its case "a captivating melange... this gripping, innovatively constructed flashback commands attention"
Possibly the best protest sign ever. :: without a doubt!
Is that not considered welfare fraud?
2012 Federal Discretionary Spending Budget.
Rather than Republican fighting to close loopholes so the US has more revenue, they would rather cut social security, cut benefits for the poor, cut education, and wreck the economy with the Sequester which will cost over 2 million jobs.---Two dozen Fortune 500 companies paid no corporate income taxes in 2011 AND received Gov. Subsidies (welfare) in the Millions.--- |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21206 | Submit a Poem
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The Day My Ego Collapsed
Ego held me, captivated by his good looks,
a sculpted figure that only comes from princes of story books.
Everyday I'd sit and beseech the knowing, wise eyes
of the future, yearning for him to retrieve me from glancing up at skies
I'd never attempted to reach before,
only absorbing the letters of praise he'd send, longing for more,
to elaborate on my looks, manner, and deeds
into an empty heart these comments were received.
The days retreated; I yearned to move beyond my stagnant state,
as others chose to participate
in a place called Life; I hadn't vacationed there
but chose to wait for Ego, or should I dare
to move beyond where he had instructed...
yet he has warned me of sorrows to come if wishes are conducted.
My mail hadn't arrived for countless days,
as I grew restless, I began to say,
"Save me from this torture of endless bore-
I wish to go beyond the thought of Life that I've been hoping for."
Into the castle a lady entered, appeared bewitched-
coiled in her fingers were the letters I had missed.
"It is time," she announced, as her free hand grasped my wrist,
upon her breast 'Reason' was pinned, as we began to twist
away from the shattered remains of my glass castle
as her hair hung before me, in ebony tassels
until a blinding light pierced my eye,
I tried to free myself from her, shouting goodbye,
but tears of relief I began to cry...
there stood my lover, my adored, the prince!
One I'd been waiting for, in times such as this.
Yet the woman pulled me to the face of chiseled marble, with glee
my lips commenced to kiss him, yet no kiss returned to me...
his mouth, frigid, like the mute,
as his figure remained resolute.
I caressed the shoulders, yet the were of stone,
created by an artist who I despised to the bone.
Reason paused to hand me the letters; I glanced miserably,
discovering the very words had been penned by me.
I tackled Ego's chest
as it shattered onto wood crest.
Drowned in tears, I glanced up to find
though my eyes seemed blinded, in a bind...
Reason wasn't alone, I thought it was a pun,
yet this companion seemed to carry the sun,
reaching down with glowing arms to take me in
and help me soar into horizons of Life, where I'd never been.
Thanks to Reason I'd met Light, seeing through the sin
of vanity, and infectious pride,
due to the collapse of Ego, I remain an unwed bride
to Love, whom I still haven't met,
yet unto Life I remain a pawn, until the end, I am set.
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1. Date: 2/15/2010 11:55:00 AM
Thank you for sharing your poetry with us today Megan. I enjoyed reading it. Love, Carol |
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21399 | Taking the Temperature of ancient Organisms
submitted by: UMiami_RSMAS
UM Rosenstiel School professor Peter Swart talks about the the Rosenstiel School's acquisition of two new stable isotope mass spectrometers that allow for Clumping, which is the process of directly measuring rare isotopes of carbon and oxygen. Clumping allows scientists to directly measure the temperatures of organisms, such as dinosaurs or those located in ancient seas.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21441 | I just wondered has anyone got a recent copy of MySQL Ruby (the C bindings type) to work on Windows. The same goes for Ruby GD. If anyone can do this, I would be grateful for instructions as I've search high and low on the net and never had any succuess under Windows. I guess I could also try cygwin, and that way I could run Lighttpd too under windows. The only thing with Cygwin is that compiling takes an age because windows takes so long to fork of new processes during ./configure and make |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21455 | Fusion Reactor (The Con)
If somebody was to tell you that they had a clever way to make free power, all through the application of nuclear fusion; that it was safe, cheap and reliable; that it could be shown to work, here, now, in this suitcase; then anyone, even a suspicious British investigator like Amelia Hartliss would welcome the news. Surely. It can't be too good to be true, can it? Above all, it can't be a con! More
Published: Jan. 10, 2013
Words: 56,200
Language: English
ISBN: 9781301779949
About Mickey Scantlebury
Born at four o'clock in the morning, and I don't remember much about that. But after I started talking I was told I was living in Bristol, UK, in the South West of England, and close to Cornwall, where most of my ancestors come from. After some exploring to the east coast, (and writing my first novel), I moved on up to Manchester, where the wool comes from, and started making babies, some human and some in book form. Many of them grew up and left home, which is where Smashwords comes in.
Oh, and there was also Canada. I spent a few years over there, but after a rather messy divorce, had to come running back to sunny England, with my tail between my legs. (It may be why several people think I'm Canadian. It's not true. But I do like the syrup.)
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21469 | Phoenix VGC Warstory
Discussion in 'VGC' started by viperGTS, May 24, 2010.
1. viperGTS
Nov 1, 2008
To start off, let me say that most of these battles are from my head, but I think I remember most of them. Anyway, onto the "warstory."
I left at like one with my mom and we started going to Phoenix. The desert sky looks so beautiful at night.
Nothing much else happens, although around 6 we rest a little, with Phoenix being about 50 miles away. Hooray!
So, after some complications, we make it to the convention center. When me and my mom got inside, we met a lady named Katrina. She was actually the "background" organizer for the VGC event! It was pretty cool meeting her, and we also met her son, who was unfortunately autistic(sp?). They left after the junior finals.
I should also point out that there were a lot of creepers taking photos, and that's one thing I REALLY hate, so I tried to cover my face whenever possible.
Finally, it's time to go in line. After giving my info sheet I get a battle card and a bag, which was pretty cool.
Ok, so here was my team.
Dialga@lum berry
Draco Meteor
Trick room
Kind of basic I guess. I was worried of shedinja so I used flamethrower, but that was my biggest mistake of the day.
Smeargle@Focus Sash
Dark void
Follow me
Fake out
Awesome TR poke! Although, I couldn't get much use for it out of round one :( oh well. Dark void suprisingly worked. I mainly used follow me though.
Metagross@ Shuca Berry
Meteor mash
Bullet punch
This thing saved me round 2. Not much else to say though.
Brave bird
Sacred fire
My kickass shiny ho-oh, and it was basically my "trump card." I thought no one would expect one so I used it.
Alright, onto the battles!
I play a girl whose name I unfortunately forgot. She led with palkia and cresselia, and I led with dialga and smeargle. I start off with follow me + TR. I think she spacial rends my smeargle and cress protects. I dark void and endeavor all of her pokes into oblivion. 4-0
My toughest battle. I actually have it saved. Video # 48-51073-82323
Since I have this on video, I won't need to explain it. I just got really close to losing but metagross saves me. In the middle of the battle though, I realize I need to get rid of Groudon and ho-oh pulls it off. I really thought I was going
to lose at the end, but meta saves me. just watch the battle :)
This guy was kind of weird. He leads with gengar and garchomp, I use my same lead. I use follow me and TR again, and he used earthquake and icy wind, which benefitted my dialga. Smeargle dies, and I send in meta. I Draco meteor garchomp I believe and meteor mash gengar, which survives with the focus sash. Gengar used something (I wish I could remember!!!!) all I know was I won, I think 3-0.
I was annoyed with this kid, mainly because he kept saying stuff about my team out loud >_> he didn't even know about the vgc until THE DAY BEFORE. He leads rhyperior and typhlosion, I use my lead. I fake out rhyperior, his typhlosion uses flamethrower I believe, activating my sash. TR activates, I use dark void and sweep his team 2-0.
I get my game hacked check, by Mike Lisiek(sp?) I believe, he tricks me into thinking my game is hacked, I found it funny though :P after that, we had time to do whatever, but I didn't want to be late so I just hung around the place. When we all get back, mike explains how the byes work. 8 of us got byes, and I was one of them. Everyone who didn't had to follow another guy. I think I saw BadIntent here, who got a bye as well. We all just stood there for a while. Afterwards we followed mike, and the Nick announcer guy had everyone saying stuff into the mic. Me, nervous, just said my damn name and I felt so embarrassed after Nick said "fine with me" ugh I felt so retarded :/ at this point though:
I MADE TOP 16!!!
I was so glad to make it this far. I got this awesome letter that had some info on it. But my excitement ends here. Here's why.
This match was vs. Michael. He had a lot of friends supporting him, which made me more nervous. He leads with ludicolo and kyogre, and I lead with my leads. I use follow me, ludi hits smeargle, kyogre uses surf, dialga TRs the field. I send in ho-oh.
I use thunder on kyogre, but it gets paralyzed.
Now that it's faster, it nearly kills dialga and ho-oh lives with protect. Ludi finishes it off with surf, and I send in meta. I use brave bird on ludi, killing it and I use EQ on kyogre. It lives and Michael sends in toxicroak. It uses sucker punch but it fails due to metas protect. Kyogre surfs again. I use metas eq. Kyogre dies. Ho-oh uses brave bird killing toxicroak. Then he sends in palkia. TR ends. I double protect but know the inevitable is coming. He surfs. I try to attack palkia but surf knocks me out. I lose.
I take the walk of shame, and watched a little bit more (I see Shinryus Persian strategy destroying his opponent). I left a little bit later, but overall, I had so much fun, and was suprised to make top 16! Unfortunately, I won't be attending nationals.
So that concludes my warstory. Thank you so much for reading it! Leave comments please, I would appreciate it!
2. Boomguy
Jan 17, 2010
OMG at your round 2 fight. Your so lucky that his Zong didn't have EQ. Gyro ball is useless in the VGC. But well done overall. Unlucky in your last battle, did you really think of that possiblity of the para when you were making this team.
3. BadIntent
Oct 26, 2009
I keep hearing about you and apparently you were in the top 16 with me. I don't know which one you were though =O I guess that sort of stuff happens when you don't like your picture taken =P Great job on getting top 16. Tough team you lost to.
4. viperGTS
Nov 1, 2008
I'm pretty sure I thought of it at one point, but it didn't really occur to me until it actually happened.
thanks. And yeah, I hated how every other minute there was someone taking pictures. Are you planning on going to nats?
Thanks. Micheal caused alot of smogoners problems I believe :P
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21470 | possible new aproach on tiers?
Discussion in 'The Suggestion Box' started by MCorbeau, Sep 16, 2012.
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1. MCorbeau
Sep 16, 2012
Hi, first, i'd like to introduce myself.
i'm a casual gamer who plays pokémon from time to time either on the original game or on PO battle, and i am very found of good pokémon battles some members from here upload on Youtube.
But i'm here to submit you an idea that would modify the aproache of the idea of "Tiers". First, you have to know that i come from the versus fighting community ( most importantly the KoF series ) where there is usually a different way to balance every player team (KoF in particular works with a 3 vs 3 system).
the idea is basically to give a character (or a pokémon here) a grade.
the grade would estimate the competitive value of the pokémon:
let's imagine you are on a scale from 0 to 50
-Arceus and other god-like monsters would be close to a grade of 50
-Magikarp, sunkern or caterpie would basically be worth 0 or 1 at max.
the idea is, instead of having the players pick from a list of pokémon from a particular tier and any tier below that one, they would have to build a team where the combined grade of their pokémon would not exceed a certain number (in the cas of a 0 to 50 scale, we could estimate that a limit of 25 or 50 would be close to NU/PU and a limit of 250 would be Ubers)
the idea of this rating technic instead of tiers is that this would allow the player to have much more variety in their team and that would encourage many battlers to try unexpected sets or team synergie.Plus, this way, having a weak pokémon on a team is compensated by the possibility to give him powerful teammates.
the possible downside would be players potentially playing 50-limit matches with an Uber and 5 weaklings but that would be prevented by, for exemple, forbidding a rate difference superior to XX in a YYY-limit match.
I am also conscious that this kind of system would be very long to put together and to rate every pokémon and i know that there would be huge rate changes to do because of the possibly OP low rated core synergy and stuff like that, so even if this seems like a good idea, i know that it would take a load of time if it was ever going to be made.
last note :I have no idea if that suggestion has ever been submitted in the past but my research for previous threads on that idea didn't lead me anywhere.
thanks for reading! :>
2. Birkal
Birkal The Scandinavian Disney Princess
Mentor Leader
Oct 12, 2010
Hello and welcome to Smogon! We base our tiers off of usage statistics. The basic idea is that the more used a Pokemon is, the better it is, in theory. While it has some minor flaws, it's almost always spot on, especially with the large player base we have. You might want to check out the Smogon Philosophy to read more about it (particularly Part 2).
Right now, we're pretty content with our system. If you'd like to develop a metagame like this, it would belong in the Other Metagames subforum. It definitely is an interesting concept that I bet other users would like to discuss with you. However, it simply won't change anything officially; tiers are generally regarded as the best system for ranking Pokemon here on Smogon. Feel free to PM me if you have any more questions. Again, welcome to Smogon =)
3. Sprocket
is a Pre-Contributor
Jul 10, 2010
I don't see this going anywhere. Smogon Tiers (besides Uber) are based on usage already, and typically players only want to use the very best; hence, the very best tend to be OU, as they are the most used, whereas the least used fall down to NU.
Uber is essentially a banlist for OU.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21562 | 69°F Thunderstorms
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The web is a house that was occupied while still being built. And much of the plumbing and wiring was thrown together to meet immediate needs-with little thought to the long term. But if the Web is going to become comfortably habitable, it will need a refurbishing at its core.
Fortunately for all of us who are now living there, just such a replumbing is in the works. The initiative, by a working group of the MIT-based World Wide Web Consortium (W3C) (see “The Web’s Unelected Government”, TR November/December 1998), goes by a daunting set of initials, HTTP-ng. That mouthful translates into the next generation (“ng”) of the hypertext transfer protocol (HTTP). Just like plumbing, HTTP brings and carries away: uploading and retrieving documents, and embedding hyper-links. And while the new protocol won’t directly change the look and feel of the Web for most casual surfers, the behind-the-scenes refinements will create standards to better support the proliferation of new online services for the Internet.
The version of HTTP now in use (1.1) is changed little from the original that was patched together willy-nilly as the Web was constructed during the early 1990s. In the meantime, however, millions of people and companies have moved in and concocted all manner of new services and features for the Web. “There are about 42 different applications using the Web apart from the basic act of fetching a page,” says Bill Janssen of Xerox’s Palo Alto Research Center, a member of the HTTP-ng working group.
Take, for instance, a rapidly growing phenomenon: online auctions (see “Radio Daze”, TR November/December 1998). The instant notification of bids to all participants requires operations not built into first-generation HTTP. “There are hundreds of ways” to improvise on HTTP to make auctions work, says Janssen, and most online auctioneers try several before settling on one. HTTP-ng would put in place standards that would make it much easier for Web sites to offer such services. Design of a new Web service, says Janssen, “should not require 20 geniuses working for three years.”
A key goal of HTTP-ng is to make the Web more hospitable to automated “agents” that have been developed at MIT and elsewhere to seek out information and conduct transactions on behalf of a human user, says Henrik Frystyk Nielsen, the HTTP-ng activity leader at the W3C. The existing HTTP falls short, he says, partly because it lacks “semantic understanding” of the information on the Web page. A document on the Web may include the names of many people, but provides no clue to indicate which is the author-and searching bogs down as a result. In contrast, HTTP-ng will provide a consistent framework that can be utilized by new software applications that require some machine “knowledge” of a site’s contents. It will be more like an orderly and navigable library.
The new protocol is still being tested. Nielsen says that W3C intends to implement the changes gradually over a period of a couple of years, as part of an effort coordinated with the Internet Engineering Task Force-the group that looks after the underlying technical standards on which the Web runs. Once the kinks are worked out, though, the World Wide Web may finally prove comfortable for long-term occupancy.
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Monoclonal antibodies, which are engineered to hone in on very specific biological targets, have taken off therapeutically in recent years: several are now approved for treating cancers and autoimmune diseases, and nearly 200 are in clinical trials. But one of the challenges of monoclonal-antibody therapy is the fact that some people respond very well to the drugs while others respond only moderately or not at all.
A startup called PIKAMAB, based in Menlo Park, CA, believes that it can make monoclonal antibodies more effective by grouping patients together based on their genotype and offering a customized antibody developed for that genotype. The company hopes that this “stratified” approach to drug development and treatment will help drug companies achieve better results.
Monoclonal antibodies bind only to specific target molecules, giving them a precision that many other drugs lack. These Y-shaped molecules, which are naturally produced by immune cells called B cells, have a nearly identical base but arms that can vary depending on their intended target. The arms bind precisely to the target while the base of the Y provides an anchor for circulating immune cells to attach to.
Monoclonal antibodies were first identified as potential cancer treatments three decades ago, as the molecules could be engineered to bind to cancer cells and provoke an immune response against them. They have also proved useful for treating autoimmune disease and are under investigation as a treatment for many other conditions.
But scientists have found that patients respond differently to these drugs, largely because the antibodies are not able to bind to the immune cells of all patients equally well. Studies have found that the process, called antibody-dependent cell-mediated cytotoxicity (ADCC), plays a major role in how well several monoclonal-antibody drugs work. How an immune cell attaches to an antibody depends on one of two protein receptors at the cell’s surface. People have natural genetic variations in these receptors: certain variations prevent immune cells from binding to antibodies, and these patients respond poorly to these antibody therapies.
Vijay Ramakrishnan, founder and CEO of PIKAMAB, believes that monoclonal-antibody therapies could be improved by taking into account the genetic background of each patient. “A one-size-fits-all antibody drug in this case doesn’t work,” he says.
PIKAMAB’s approach is to first sort patients depending on whether they are expected to respond to a treatment or not. The company is marketing a “theragnostic” test that separates patients into one of nine groups in a matrix according to their receptor type and an analysis of their immune cells. At one end of the matrix are patients likely to respond well to an existing drug; at the other end are those who are likely to respond poorly. Ramakrishnan says that this test alone can benefit treatment, as it could help a clinician decide whether to begin a monoclonal therapy right away in an excellent responder or eschew the drug in favor of other options in a poor responder.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21576 | Business Intelligence Investigate
Aligning Departments With Your Strategy
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Executive Summary
Any department in your organization can either support your strategy by being aligned with it, or block your strategy by pushing against it. This paper takes a look at how several different departments might affect strategy. Departments must support strategy by being aligned with the type of customer you are targeting. This also means that, in those unusual cases where a company is pursuing both specialty and commodity customers under one roof, you may well need to separate some departments into specialty and commodity support units.
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Use your loaf - Food news: Produce from the Isle of Bute
Coil baskets or bannetons used by artisan bakers to prove their bread prior to baking are now available from the Laundry. They are particularly good for sourdough, leaving a rustic-looking imprint on the finished loaf. From £12 (01594-841824;
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21587 | Thursday, August 16th, 2012
Guerlain Gracy Rouge G Lipstick
Guerlain Gracy Rouge G Lipstick
Another Summer Hue Just in Time for Fall
Guerlain Gracy Rouge G Lipstick ($48.00 for 0.12 oz.) is a warm coral-pink with a little hint of red. It has almost imperceptible pearl; there’s a minor reflection and sheen but no obvious shimmer particles. MAC Watch me Simmer is much lighter. MAC Force of Love is pinker and lighter. Wet ‘n’ Wild Hot Paris Pink is a smidgen lighter but close. Make Up For Ever #38 is less pink but a little brighter. OCC Trollop is lighter and pinker. MAC Fusion Pink is redder and has a pink iridescent sheen. Chanel Phoenix is a bit lighter and has noticeable pink shimmer.
Bright and bold with full color coverage and a natural finish, Gracy is more summer than fall, even if it is part of the fall release. The color glides on and hugs lips without feeling clingy, while the formula itself wears for six and a half hours and keeps lips well-hydrated the entire time. I did not experience any feathering or bleeding lip color.
Like the rest of the range, there is a perfume-like scent attached to these but no discernible scent. Each is packaged in a hefty silver metal case that has a flip mirror. I appreciate the sleek design of the case, and it feels very luxe to hold, but from a practical purpose, they’re kind of heavy to keep your bag, and there’s no great way to store them (the top and bottom are curved), and they do hold fingerprints.
The Glossover
If you love bright corals with some darkness to them, you'll like Gracy. It feels very summery to me, partially because corals are so often part of one's summer routine, but also the level of brightness in the shade.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21628 | [The Age | Text-only index]
Money to burn, but no idea about an elegant sufficiency
Date: January 05 2013
John Garnaut
GUIYANG, China: Pu Ling, a painter in China's poorest and least egalitarian province, is taking on the ultimate artistic challenge. He is refashioning the most unsightly of all Chinese archetypes - the provincial billionaire coal boss - into an exemplar of sophistication and good taste.
Step one is to bring the coal baron from the grimy mining town of Liupanshui to his English-style pub with Byzantine light fixtures, Chinese wood panelling and a Russian rock band called Evil.
The rich and glamorous of Guiyang, capital of Guizhou province, believe Pu Bar to be the most desirable destination in the hinterland of south-west China.
''This bar is about culture,'' says Zhou Zhou, a young and elegant aspiring businesswoman. ''The guests here often come with high personal quality and high income.''
Step two is to ban drugs, prostitutes and Chinese liquor while dissuading the get-rich-with-a-bang coal bosses from setting fire to the 100 yuan ($15) notes they like to stack on the table next to their drinks.
''More and more coal bosses are turning to places like Pu Bar and are experimenting with less-conspicuous consumption,'' says the proprietor, Pu Ling, 44, who graduated from the Art College of Guizhou University and Beijing's Central Academy of Fine Art.
''In the past, before they had imported wine, they showed off their wealth by lighting cash.''
Step three is to suggest a means of transferring wealth (as opposed to burning it).
French wine does the job, but the Australian stuff is better for volume as well as margins. ''People drink wine faster when it is Australian,'' Pu says.
''Chinese are different. One person pays the bill and others drink a lot.''
Pu dresses and cuts his hair with the knowledge that his guests expect him to be a beacon of good taste. He persuades the ladies to avoid Gucci and Louis Vuitton handbags (it is embarrassing to be caught unknowingly carrying a fake).
He demonstrates how to observe the colour of the wine while swirling it in large glasses and then savour the taste by sloshing it around the palate and pushing out the lips.
He parks his BMW alongside his wife's convertible Mercedes not because he likes flash cars but because his guests expect it.
The combination of Australian wine, French prices, Chinese purchasing habits and mining billionaires is proving good for business. Pu has just opened a quiet Guizhou restaurant by the water just out of town, which when Fairfax visited was serving an animal that arrived in a cage but was not readily identified.
This year he will open a more gentrified drinking club as well as a fine-dining establishing serving Western cuisine, to augment the Pu Bar and a loud nightclub down the road.
The fourth and final step to nouveau sophistication is to serve with Chinese characteristics.
No one of consequence will buy a single round, let alone stoop to splitting bills, so the Belgian beers are served literally by the bucket. (The price of the most popular beer, Budweiser, drops by nearly half to 45 yuan [$7] when ordered by the dozen.) The tables are stacked with French champagne, red wine carafes and 21-year-old single malt scotch - poured six shots at a time.
The empties are never removed until the host has gone, so that his accumulated generosity can be readily appreciated. Some tables are stacked dangerously high.
''They feel very generous and rich by presenting lots of alcohol on the table,'' Pu says. ''I feel like all the West's whisky is drunk by Chinese because here, at one table, they go through five or six bottles. They care about the amount of face, not how much has been drunk.''
[ The Age | Text-only index] |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21630 | The Fresh Loaf
News & Information for Amateur Bakers and Artisan Bread Enthusiasts
• Pin It
pat123's picture
ehanner's picture
There doesn't need to be a finish on a kneading board other than a little mineral oil from time to time. Unscented mineral oil sold at drug stores and some hardware stores can be wiped on and what ever doesn't soak in in 10 minutes can be wiped off. I find the board offers better resistance when it looks and feels dry. Using my wooden dough board as a cutting board would draw scowls from me. After a party I once discovered my SIL had cut bread with a serrated knife across the grain. She was the same person who drank my 40 year old scotch with coke because she was thirsty. I'm more careful now:>) |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21640 | A new politics: Rewrite lobbying rules
We need greater transparency on members' interests and, most of all, independent scrutiny – and no more self-policing
• theguardian.com,
• Jump to comments ()
There are constant themes to any Westminster reform agenda: transparency, rigour, outside independent monitoring and enforcement. And that, in turn, means that members' interests and lobbying rules require only a few key changes now. Much of the essential spade work was done 14 years ago by the committee on standards in public life (set up after the Guardian's cash-for-questions revelations in 1994).
Still, some gaping holes need filling: post interests on the net within a week, not a month; declare gifts under 1% of a parliamentary salary (you can buy lots of bath plugs and toilet seats for £640); inspect lobbying firms before allowing them to register for access to the Commons – and withdraw access if they transgress; make it impossible for any company, pressure group or individual to pay lobbyists and contribute to political party funds at the same time.
But then – most crucial of all – comes the need for independent outside control. The Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards is just another "servant of the House" chosen by the House itself. He's not the enforcer of the code, more its keeper and interpreter. When he investigates, he only advises MPs how to react. "Honourable members" are still in control, still toeing party lines, still looking after their own. But blow away their rotten expenses system and, in grim logic, members' interests have to be policed by outsiders as well.
Forget servants of the House, then. Bring in servants of the public – perhaps on secondment from the National Audit Office – and publish every ruling they give. Give commissioners job security: no more ditching Elizabeth Filkin if she makes too many waves, no more neutering of a high-profile heads of the Committee on Standards (like Sir Alistair Graham).
Oh, and no more politicians on the standards committee either. They're our watchdogs now. Not poodles playing on College Green.
The thread below is your space to add ideas for what may prove a historic opportunity to reform our democracy. Cif editors and contributors will be involved in the discussion as much as possible, so please join us
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21643 | A drinker's guide to Islam
A Palestinian beerfest is not as bizarre as it seems. Alcohol has long been a tolerated aspect of Muslim culture
• theguardian.com,
• Jump to comments ()
Daoud Hore of the Taybeh Beer factory in the West Bank, which hosted its seventh Oktoberfest this month. Photograph: Jamal Aruri/AFP/Getty Images
If I said that we went to an Oktoberfest last weekend, readers may wonder why I am writing about it. If I added that the beer festival in question was in the West Bank and there we encountered a couple of self-deprecating young Germans dressed in lederhosen, some may start asking themselves what I've been drinking, or perhaps smoking.
Secular Palestinians, expats and even leftist Israelis equipped with glasses of Taybeh beer wandered around food and handicraft stands, watched traditional Dabke dancers, modern music, comedy and theatrical performances.
Despite its remoteness and tiny proportions, Taybeh has earned its place on the cultural and social map as being the location of the only Palestinian beer brewery. It has battled the restrictions imposed by the Israeli occupation and the rise of Islamic fundamentalism to become a rare Palestinian business and cultural success story.
This may explain why Taybeh once adopted "Taste the revolution" as its advertising slogan. And, judging by its micro-brewery quality, the revolution tastes pretty good.
The very existence of Taybeh overturns the stereotype associated with Palestinians – and Arabs in general – as teetotal, fanatical Muslims. This caricature has been reinforced since Hamas's takeover of Gaza, where the Islamist party has imposed a de facto ban on alcohol, though bootlegging has become a popular, if risky, pastime.
There are those who will protest that Taybeh is the exception that proves the rule. After all, it is the only Palestinian brewery, and it is owned and run by Christians. But the absence of local competitors has more to do with the difficulty of setting up a viable business in the Palestinian territories, which requires a certain foolhardiness and courage – and, anyway, most of the people who drink Taybeh are Muslims.
In the wider Arab and Muslim context, booze is widely available. Although alcohol is generally considered to be haraam (forbidden) in Islam, only the most conservative countries actually impose a legal ban on it. Egypt, for instance, has a booming local alcohol industry that has been growing for years.
This is not just a recent "innovation", as conservative Muslims might believe. The prominent 19th-century orientalist Edward William Lane – famous for his incredibly observant if somewhat condescending book, Manners and Customs of the Modern Egyptians – provides, in one of his lesser-known works, some fascinating details about the drinking habits of Egyptians.
"From the conversations and writings of Arabs," he notes, "drinking wine in private and by select parties is far from being uncommon among modern Muslims." Lane also alludes to the fact that boozing was even more common in earlier centuries, before the introduction of tobacco and coffee as substitutes.
There is plenty of historical evidence to back Lane's assertion. Numerous prominent Muslims throughout the ages drank alcohol. Even caliphs, such as the Abbasid ruler Haroun al-Rashid of One Thousand and One Nights fame, were reputed to indulge, despite their title of "commanders of the faithful".
Pre-Islamic Arabic poetry is famous for its odes to wine, known as khamariyat, and this tradition continued into the Islamic era. Take Abu Nuwas, Haroun al-Rashid's camp court poet. In addition to his homoerotic ghazal, he penned endless verse in praise of wine.
Although he was considered to be the greatest Arab poet ever during his lifetime, Nuwas has fallen out of favour with the modern Muslim reader. But he is not alone in talking up the virtues of drink. The celebrated poet and polymath Omar Khayyám wrote extensively about wine and love, as did the legendary Sufi mystic Rumi.
Modern-day puritans will argue that Khayyám and Rumi used wine and drunkenness as a metaphor for spiritual intoxication. But there's no reason why their poetry should not be read both literally and figuratively, as mystics have long used alcohol (after all, we do use the term "spirit" to describe some drinks) and other drugs to alter their consciousness in pursuit of the divine.
The relatively relaxed attitude to alcohol in the earlier centuries of Islam may have been due to doubts, in the days before the religion had hardened into rigid orthodoxy, as to whether the Qur'an actually prohibits the consumption of alcohol or merely recommends moderation and/or abstinence. Some hadith (traditions of the prophet) even suggest that Muhammad may have actually drunk mildly alcoholic beverages.
Regardless of whether this is the case or not, devout Muslims have every right to consider alcohol haraam and not part of Islam the religion. But they must also accept that alcohol has always been an integral and largely tolerated aspect of Islamic culture.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21679 | Sony Reader PRS-300 Pocket Edition
Sony Reader PRS-300 Pocket Edition
The e-book reader for everyone?
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Review With the price of the Reader PRS-600 Touch Edition having been hiked up by 25 per cent over the original PRS-505, Sony clearly thinks there's room for a cheaper alternative. Hence the launch of the Reader PRS-300 Pocket Edition which does without a touchscreen and has a 5in rather than 6in screen.
Sony Reader PRS-300 Pocket Edition
Sony's Reader Pocket Edition:
In the UK, the Pocket sells for £180. While that's a hefty £70 cheaper than the Touch, it's worth remembering that it's only 20 quid less than the old 505 sold for.
Physically, the Pocket resembles a shrunken and tidied up version of the 505. At 107 x 158 x 10mm, it's the same thickness as the Touch, but 14mm narrower and 17mm shorter. At 220g, it weighs a noticeable 66g less.
Without a touchscreen, the controls are once again placed on the device's face, but there are only ten rather than the 17 the 505 had, and the layout is far neater.
The ten number keys from the 505 have been condensed into five rocker buttons, while the navigation keys have been simplified into a circular navpad and four buttons to, respectively, take you to the Home menu, zoom in or out on text – though you only get three size options rather than the five you get with the Touch – add a bookmark, and go back a step.
Sony Reader PRS-300 Pocket Edition
The controls and their layout are better this time round
All in all, it's well thought out and a big improvement on the 505, though the menus don't react quite as quickly to commands as they do on the Touch.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21707 | 1. Seen here at the Pinch A Loaf For The Children Foundation, Prince William takes it old school and expels a Camilla Parker Bowles.
2. JimBB
Will one of you Indian boys be so kind as to fetch me my slippers and clean the east wing?
3. “Oh, oh my! I just want to dunk you in a cup of Earl Grey!”
4. Johnny P!
Ever the generous royal, Prince Charles queefs one out and treats the children to the intoxicating aroma of estate-raised roasted quail in an organic juniper glaze, venison carpaccio, a fine claret, Earl Grey tea and an assortment of cheeses, jellies and crackers from Fortnam & Mason’s.
Merry Christmas, children!
5. Jenn
C’mon then, let me have a turn. Sharesies, or I’m telling my mummy!
6. meh
the crap we didn’t miss
7. And here I thought Higgins was Magnum P.I.’s butler.
8. “…and this young man is how you use a bidet”
9. “Craps ! I win again !”
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21770 | As parts of the U.S. still struggle with things iced up that shouldn’t be, like roads and power lines, here’s a cluster of goodies that are just meant to be iced up.
Paris Hilton will wants to be preserved for future parties. Ice shaped like dentures or dog treats may grace your drinks. You already know of all kinds of frozen foods, but in this cluster you’ll find frozen goods you won’t see on your grocer’s shelf. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21806 | War Horse: The Journey Home
2012, TV Show
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Premise: A behind-the-scenes look at the 2011 adventure "War Horse." Included: interviews with filmmakers Steven Spielberg and Kathleen Kennedy and actors Jeremy Irvine, Emily Watson and Tom Hiddleston.
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21835 | Subscribe English
look up any word, like poopsterbate:
high as a muthafucka, after smoking a blunt
"Me and my man got blunted"
That cat is blunted!
by ImmaculateMatt March 05, 2003
392 86
being under the influence of marijuana after the use of what is called a blunt, or cigar paper filled with bud.
stoner 1: how are you feelin?
stoner 2: man im so blunted.
by stylin rta December 25, 2006
126 38
1. Although a verb, it is actually the the inability to take action
2. The result of being so high from smoking a blunt you can no longer perform physical activity
3. Associated with the inability to close the jaw and keep eyelids open.
Bob - "Hey can you give me a hand with these dishes?"
Blunted individual - "Whaaaa............ too blunted man"
by kaicrowe September 29, 2011
33 18
Person 2: Blunted
by I Chink Im Cool November 28, 2011
10 13
The feeling that follows smoking a blunt. It usually makes one feel tired, weak, out of energy and like you have been "blunted". A much stronger doped feeling than smoking from a pipe or bong.
Friend: Dude, you wanna play a game of baseball?
Stoner: Nah man, I can barely move, I smoked a fatty blunt a little while ago and i'm blunted.
by Devilweed February 28, 2008
38 57
A state achieved after smoking excessive amounts of marijuana, resulting in one's movement being noticeably restricted.
"Mate are you OK?"
"Man, I'm so blunted! I hit that bong too hard man!"
by nicomate! July 29, 2009
23 52 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21886 | 30-Day No-Hassle Returns
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Vertebrate Natural History
Pub Date:
Publisher: Brooks/Cole
Summary: Part I: Perspective. 1. Introduction and Principles. 2. Classification, Characteristics, And Relationships. 3. Distributions: Ecology and Geography. Part II: Relations with the Physical Environment. 4. Perception. 5. Thermoregulation and Osmoregulation. 6. Respiration. 7. Locomotion. 8. Migration. Part III: Relations with Other Species. 9. Food and Foraging. 10. Escape from Predation. Part IV: Social and Reproductive... Patterns. 11. Home Range, Territoriality, And Social Groups. 12. Sex. 13. Courtship and Mating Patterns. 14. Life History Patterns and Reproduction. 15. Parental Care. Index.
Willson, Mary F. is the author of Vertebrate Natural History, published 1983 under ISBN 9780030618048 and 0030618045. Twenty nine Vertebrate Natural History textbooks are available for sale on ValoreBooks.com, twenty two used from the cheapest price of $0.09, or buy new starting at $33.55.
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Vertebrate Natural History
ISBN-13: 9780030618048
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21925 | Black Hat Techniques | WebReference
Black Hat Techniques
Black Hat Techniques
By Terry Detty
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As search engine optimization has become more popular, so has the use of unethical SEO techniques. After you've read this, you'll know what techniques are underhanded and which are acceptable.
"Black Hat" Techniques
"Black Hat" techniques are unethical methods that some Web site owners use to get their site listed on search engines (and to obtain a high search engine listing). Here's a list of three common "Black Hat" techniques you should avoid since they could get your site banned.
1. Keyword stuffing: Keyword stuffing is the overuse of keywords in a piece of content. Generally, this is repeating the same keywords over and over just to achieve a higher search engine ranking.
2. Invisible text: Quite a few cheap sites use this tactic, which involves making keywords to be the same color as the background, so readers can't see the massive amounts of keywords, but search engine spiders can.
3. Doorway pages: These are pages that regular visitors cannot see, but search engine spiders can. They are used to trick the search engines so that the site gets a higher ranking. Not only do they go against the rules, but they also hurt the visitor's experience. Who wants to see a site stuffed with keywords?
Do "Black Hat" techniques work?
They do, but only temporarily. Eventually the search engine spiders catch on and your site can be permanently banned from the listings. It may pay off for a few short weeks, but it permanently hurts your site and its credibility on the Internet.
Fortunately, there are many techniques you can use to get your site ranked in a top spot with the search engines. We'll go over two such techniques right now.
Earlier in this article, we talked about keyword stuffing, which can get your site banned. In contrast, the natural use of keywords is perfectly fine. By natural, we mean keywords that are spread throughout a document in a way that isn't blatant.
How do you naturally use keywords in your content? The first step is to identify some keywords that are relevant to your site, then begin to write the content. Essentially, you want to incorporate the keywords you've picked out in a natural way throughout the content. Ideally, if your content is 600 words, you'll want to use the main keyword between 6-18 times, which is a keyword density of 1-3% (keyword density is the number of keywords divided by the total words of a document). Anything less than that won't be beneficial. More than a keyword density of 3% might seem like keyword stuffing, so try not to past a keyword density of 5%. Also be aware that you're not incorporating keywords for the search engines only, you're going to have people reading your content, so it's important that your keywords doesn't interfere with your message.
Linking is a common practice between Web sites. In many cases, the simplest method is a link exchange, where you and another webmaster agree to post links to each other's site.
From there, each time a search engine spider visits a page with a link to your site on it, the spider will then visit your site.This is one quick way of improving your position in the search engines. Here's a link to more articles about search engine marketing on WebReference.
While "Black Hat" techniques temporarily do work, they never pay off in the long run. So if you want a legitimately high search engine listing, don't use "Black Hat" techniques. Use natural methods for high search engine rankings!
About the Author
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Created: March 27, 2003
Revised: March 21, 2008 |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21936 | First drive: Mazda RX-8 R3
• Face lifted coupe driven
• Updated exterior styling
• On sale now for £24,995
The coupe world spins even more quickly than the rotary engine in the Mazda RX-8.
If you're not the newest, funkiest or fastest, you're old news.
That's why it was high-time for Mazda to face-lift its five-year old coupe, and the new RX-8 R3 is the result.
Exterior changes amount to revised lights front and rear, new wheels, slightly larger tailpipes, and a bodykit.
Underneath, the body and suspension have been stiffened, the steering sharpened, and the slick-shifting gearbox from the MX-5 fitted.
It all adds up to an RX-8 that's been to the gym for a few months.
The 228bhp of the engine is unchanged from before, as is the pulling power of 156lb ft, so straight-line performance is largely as before.
The gearbox ratios have been lowered slightly over those in the old RX-8, which helps acceleration but means the engine is revving harder at 70mph.
This manifests itself as a constant background hum, although the high volume of road noise does tend to distract your attention from any din generated by the engine.
All this motorway driving, however, is slightly missing the point, because the RX-8 truly comes alive on twisty, serpentine pieces of Tarmac.
Find a good road and you'll start to grin inanely as you snick up and down the gearbox, giggle as you use the engine to its 9000rpm maximum and marvel as the nose of the car follows your hands' commands instantly.
The RX-8 does mundane, too. Its boot is roomy, and you can easily carry four people. Just be prepared for an overly firm urban ride, huge fuel bills and make sure you follow the rigorous oil-checking schedule to the letter.
Price £24,995
On sale Now
You'll like: It's even more fun to drive
You won't: It's thirsty; stiff urban ride
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21961 | Lose 10 Pounds Fast!
No time to diet? This plan is perfect for the time-crunched woman
By Marissa Lippert, RD
Special Offer
breakfast 1 hard-cooked egg with 2 whole-grain crackers (like Wasa Crispbread Multigrain or Light Rye), tomato slices, ½ grapefruit
a.m. snack ½ cup plain lowfat yogurt, ½ cup fresh or frozen berries
lunch 3 slices fresh roasted turkey (like Applegate Farms), apple slices, 1 slice lowfat Jarlsberg cheese and Dijon mustard in a high-fiber wrap
p.m. snack Precut veggies (baby carrots, celery, bell pepper strips), 1–2-oz hummus mini-container (like Tribe hummus)
dinner 5 small turkey meatballs (frozen or premade) with quick homemade tomato sauce (heat 2 tsp olive oil; sauté 1 clove garlic and ½ small diced yellow onion until translucent; add 15-oz can crushed tomatoes, salt and freshly ground pepper to taste; simmer for 20 minutes while cooking meatballs). Serve with 2 Tbsp grated Parmesan, ½ cup cooked whole-wheat or multigrain pasta (like Barilla Plus), steamed spinach
breakfast 1 whole-wheat English muffin, 1 Tbsp all-natural peanut butter, banana slices
a.m. snack All-natural granola bar lunch ½ cup Mediterranean lite tuna salad (4 oz tuna, 1 tsp olive oil, 2 tsp balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper to taste), cucumber slices, grape tomatoes, 1 small whole-wheat pita
dinner 4 oz roasted chicken (precooked, from the grocery store), 2 cups frozen broccoli (steam, then lightly sauté with 1 tsp olive oil and 1 clove minced garlic for 45 seconds), baked sweet potato
evening snack/dessert ½ cup speedy-stewed apples (peel, core and roughly chop 1 Granny Smith apple; put in saucepan and add 1 tsp cinnamon and 1 Tbsp honey; cook on low heat for 15–20 minutes until apple is soft).
breakfast 1 packet plain microwavable oatmeal (like McCann’s Irish oatmeal, Kashi GoLean hot cereal or Amy’s Steel-Cut Oats Hot Cereal Bowl), ½ cup blueberries or 1 small banana, cinnamon
a.m. snack 1 pear, 1 mini-Babybel light cheese wedge lunch Grab-n-go takeout: Grilled chicken or steak salad, balsamic vinaigrette on the side
p.m. snack 10 almonds, 3 dried apricots dinner 4 oz grilled salmon or shrimp (marinate in ½ Tbsp low-sodium soy sauce, 1 tsp fresh minced garlic, 1 tsp fresh minced ginger, 2 tsp honey and ¼ tsp red chili flakes), ½ cup brown rice or whole-wheat couscous, steamed mixed veggies |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21964 | The Alliance Needs More Runecloth Bandages!
Bring 20 runecloth bandages to Keeper Moonshade at the airfield in Dun Morogh.
So it is that we come to discuss pressing matters yet again <class>. Once more I thank you for your previous efforts; it is not everyone who would give so selflessly. But there is still more work to do.
<name>, will you once more collect runecloth bandages and return them to me here? |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21967 | Quest:Stunning View
100,028pages on
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Neutral 32 Stunning View
StartVereth the Cunning
EndVereth the Cunning
Reputation+325 Knights of the Ebon Blade
PreviousThe Vile Hold
NextThe Rider of the Unholy, The Rider of Frost & The Rider of Blood
Vereth the Cunning at the Rise of Suffering wants you to use a Lithe Stalker's heave ability to destroy 12 sleeping Iceskin Sentries.
Gargoyles make effective scouts and can be deadly if left to rain attacks from the air, but they have a very obvious weakness. Most of them have to go through long periods resting as stone to maintain the energy they need to carry their heavy bodies through the air.
As I peered through the eye you were using, I noticed dozens of iceskin sentries resting on the eastern and southern walls inside. Use the stalker to leap up to their ledges and devastate them while they sleep.
Almost too easy.
Not so much of a threat when they're sleeping.
More often than not the heave will destroy the gargoyle. Occasionally they'll wake up and just hover there.
Quest progressionEdit
1. Neutral 15 [80] Parting Gifts
2. Neutral 15 [80] Vereth the Cunning
3. Neutral 15 [80] New Recruit
4. Neutral 15 [80] The Vile Hold
5. Neutral 15 [80G5] The Fate of Bloodbane
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21968 | Talk:Juggernaut (warrior talent)
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Revision as of 16:42, June 2, 2009 by Harveydrone (Talk | contribs)
If the the chance to do critical damage has been decreased to 25%, if the next attack is not critical will the buff be lost or remain until next crit ? —The preceding unsigned comment was added by DarckArchon (talk · contr).
From the text and wowhead comments, it sounds like many other "next attack"-type modifiers, meaning the extra crit chance goes away after the next Slam/Mortal Strike, regardless of whether it crits, hits, misses, is blocked, etc. -- Harveydrone 16:42, 2 June 2009 (UTC)
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/21969 | Yulanini Hammersmith
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Revision as of 19:31, September 11, 2010 by Aedror42 (Talk | contribs)
Yulanini Hammersmith spent most of his life in a small clanhold on the shores of Loch Modan and traveled to Ironforge as a old man to petition the throne for assistance building a new aqueduct. While in the capital, he met members of the Explorers' Guild and was fascinated by their stories of adventure and faraway places. Though he soon realized that he was too old to set out as an explorer, he found through delivering his petition that he had theretofore undiscovered diplomatic abilities and offered his skills to the Guild. Today, he is the liaison between the Excursion Council and King Magni Bronzebeard, ensuring that the Guild stays in the throne’s good graces.[1]
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22064 | Where the world comes to study the Bible
Lesson 24: Integrity Under Fire (1 Timothy 6:13-16)
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A recent Newsweek (May 19, 1994) opened with an article recounting President Clinton’s legendary ability to lead people “to believe that he agrees with them entirely ... without ever quite committing himself to their position ... a gift” they noted, “given only to the best politicians.”
During the Gulf War several years ago, a man wrote to his Senator, urging him to support the ejection of Iraq from Kuwait. He received a letter agreeing with him, stating the Senator’s strong support for President Bush’s response to the crisis. But he also received a second letter, sent by mistake, thanking him for opposing the war, pointing out that the Senator himself had voted against the war resolution! The Senator must have taken lessons from the politician who was asked where he stood on an issue. He replied, “Some of my friends are for it; some of my friends are against it. And I’m for my friends!” Someone has observed that politicians and crabs are creatures who move in such a way that it is impossible to tell whether they are coming or going!
Integrity, the character quality of being above reproach, true to your word, and not compromising your principles even when you’re under fire, seems to be in scarce commodity among politicians and, sadly, even among many Christians and Christian leaders. But Christians should be people marked by integrity, especially when we’re under fire. If we waffle when the pressure is on, it hurts our witness and people shrug off the great message we stand for.
That’s especially true of Christian leaders. If we fudge on integrity, the enemy uses it to dilute the power of the gospel we proclaim. As with banking or the stock market, integrity is the name of the game when it comes to ministry and the preaching of the Word. For the sake of Christ who gave His life for His church, we who preach the Word must strive to be men of integrity. But that puts pastors in a bind, because like most people, pastors like people and want to be liked. But preaching uncompromising truth and preaching against sin is not always popular. You learn early in ministry that you can’t please everyone. So you’re tempted to play the politician, to try to make everyone think that you agree with them.
Timothy was feeling the pressure to compromise. Timid and peace-loving by nature, he had to stand strongly against the false teachers in Ephesus. It would have been easy to water down essential truth in the name of peace and unity. So after exhorting him to fight the good fight of the faith and reminding him of the good confession he had made at his baptism, Paul (in 6:13-16) gives a solemn charge to Timothy to maintain his integrity in his ministry above all else, even if it means persecution or death. He states the aim: to maintain his integrity under fire; and he gives three great facts which, if Timothy will stay aware of, will motivate him to such integrity: God’s presence; Christ’s coming; and, God’s sovereign supremacy.
To maintain integrity under fire, live with an awareness of God’s presence, Christ’s coming, and God’s sovereign supremacy.
1. The aim desired: Integrity under fire.
“I charge you ... keep the commandment without stain or reproach.” The question is, what does Paul mean by “the commandment”? In light of the context and the thrust of the whole book, the best view is that Paul means that Timothy maintain his personal integrity and that he discharge his ministry above reproach (so Calvin, Matthew Henry; see 4:16, “pay close attention to yourself and your teaching”; 6:20, “guard what has been entrusted to you”). He is charging Timothy before God that he live in such a manner that neither his personal life nor his ministry would bring any blot on the name of Christ.
Such integrity rests on a foundation beneath the surface, where no one but you and God can see. That foundation is laid a brick at a time, as you live each day with your thoughts and private deeds laid bare before the God who sees all (Heb. 4:13). Do you spend time each day alone with God, opening your heart to Him, allowing His Word to search the thoughts and intents of your heart (Heb. 4:12)? Do you judge sinful thoughts, confessing them to God and forsaking them as you seek, rather, to set your mind on the things above?
Men, you can be sitting in church and glance at an attractive woman and allow your mind to be filled with lust. Or you can be out of town, where no one knows you, and be tempted to indulge the flesh through pornography. No one sees your heart, except you and God. Integrity is built on judging and forsaking such thoughts and deeds. Women, you can sit in church with a smile on your face, yet be filled with jealousy and bitterness toward another woman who gossiped about you. Whatever the secret sin, you’re building a life of integrity if you remember that God knows your heart, and you live in obedience to Him even though no other human being is watching.
Some years ago Psychology Today (10/83) reported the results of a poll of more than 650 readers. The question posed was, “If you could secretly push a button and thereby eliminate any person with no repercussions to yourself, would you press that button?” Sixty percent said yes--69 percent of the men, 56 percent of the women. One man posed an intriguing question: “If such a device were invented, would anyone live to tell about it?”
Jesus said that murder begins in the heart where anger, bitterness, and hatred go unjudged (Matt. 5:21-22; Mark 7:21-23). So that’s where a life of integrity must be built a brick at a time. Such integrity is built in secret, but it manifests itself under fire. The pressure brings out what has been built in. Paul gives Timothy three things that he must keep before him that will motivate him to build such integrity into his life:
2. The awareness demanded: God’s presence, Christ’s coming, and God’s sovereign supremacy.
A. The awareness of God’s presence will motivate us to a life of integrity.
“I charge you in the presence of God ... and of Christ Jesus” (6:13). The close association of God and Christ Jesus, plus the assumed omnipresence of Christ, point to Jesus’ deity. Paul reminds Timothy that both God the Father and Christ are listening in and watching as he gives this charge to Timothy. Keeping in mind the fact that God and Christ are always with us will motivate us to live each moment to please Him, whether or not anyone else is there.
Note how Paul describes both God and Christ here. God “gives life to all things.” Christ Jesus “testified the good confession before Pontius Pilate.” Why does he use these descriptions in this context? Because Timothy was under fire in his ministry! Paul wanted him to remember that the God in whose presence he lived and served is both the giver and sustainer of life itself. If evil men threatened to kill Timothy, God could either preserve him from death or give him courage to be a faithful witness unto death, even as Christ faithfully bore witness to Pilate, rather than seeking to save His life by softening His witness. Though the cross is foolishness to many, Timothy should remember Christ who bore witness even through the cross, and not shrink from preaching God’s foolishness through which He is pleased to give eternal life to all who believe.
Most of us know nothing of such hardship. I sure don’t! I hear a lot of American pastors talk about the stress of ministry, and I don’t deny that there are pressures. On a few occasions I’ve had some angry people calling for my resignation. I’ve joked to Marla, “At least so far no one is after my life; they’re just after my job!” But whatever pressures you or I face to compromise our testimony to God’s saving grace in Christ, we can stand firm if we remember the presence of God, who gives life to all, and Christ Jesus, who testified the good confession before Pontius Pilate.
B. The awareness of Christ’s coming will motivate us to a life of integrity.
Paul goes on to urge Timothy to “keep the commandment without stain or reproach until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, which He will reveal in His own time” (literal translation). Although Christ is always present spiritually, He is not present visibly until that glorious moment when He will come again and take us to be with Him.
Jesus told the eleven, as they were anxious about His impending departure, not to be troubled, but to trust in God and in Him, because He was going to prepare a place for them. Then He promised, “And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:3). Jesus’ second coming is as sure as His word! Unless He was a liar or imposter, we can count on His promise and know that one day soon He will appear and that we who have believed in Him will be caught up “in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and thus we shall always be with the Lord” (1 Thess. 4:17).
Any delay in Christ’s coming is certainly not due to God’s inability, as Paul’s final crescendo of praise makes clear! Rather, it is due to God’s sovereign timing--He will bring it about “in His own time.” As Jesus told the disciples just prior to His ascension when they inquired about His second coming, “It is not for you to know times or epochs which the Father has fixed by His own authority; but you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses ...” (Acts 1:7, 8). In other words, we are to get on with His work, aware that He is coming, but not sure exactly when.
Thus Paul is saying that to maintain integrity, especially under fire, we must live with the awareness of God’s presence and of Christ’s soon coming.
C. The awareness of God’s sovereign supremacy will motivate us to a life of integrity.
Paul’s mention of God’s sovereignly fixing the time of Christ’s return leads him to an outburst of praise as he thinks on who God is. Verses like this overwhelm me as I think about preaching on them, because I can scarcely grasp them myself, let alone say anything to make them more meaningful to you. “Who is adequate for these things?” (2 Cor. 2:16)!
(1) God is blessed. This means that He is perfect and sufficient in and of Himself, that all satisfaction and joy are inherent in God’s very nature. He did not create the universe or the human race to fulfill some lack in Himself. God wasn’t lonely or needing fellowship before He created man. Nor is God frustrated or unhappy with the way history is going, as if it were out of His control. Although Scripture pictures God as displeased with our disobedience and rebellion, nothing we do can disturb the deep, abiding, settled blessedness of God.
The blessed God is the only source of true blessing and joy for His creatures. As Jesus taught in the Beatitudes, we can only know true happiness when we are rightly related to God who possesses such blessedness infinitely in Himself. We may find fleeting happiness in relationships or things. We may find passing pleasure in art, beauty, nature, or sex. But true and lasting satisfaction can only be found in God Himself who is blessed.
(2) God is the only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords. The Greek word, dynastes, refers to the inherent capacity of someone to carry something out. God delegates authority to earthly kings as He wishes, but they are nothing in His sight, and He can dispose of the mightiest earthly ruler as a man flicks an ant off his arm. The proud Nebuchadnezzar ruled over the greatest kingdom on earth, but God humbled him like a beast of the field so that he might learn that “the Most High is ruler over the realm of mankind, and bestows it on whom He wishes” (Dan. 4:17, 25, 32). God is the only Sovereign!
When God graciously restored Nebuchadnezzar to his throne, he tells us, “I blessed the Most High and praised and honored Him who lives forever; for His dominion is an everlasting dominion, and His kingdom endures from generation to generation. And all the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, but He does according to His will in the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of earth; and no one can ward off His hand or say to Him, ‘What have You done?’” (Dan. 4:34-35). We as creatures can only know true blessing when we humble ourselves under the sovereign hand of the Almighty God!
The title, “King of kings and Lord of lords” that here is ascribed to God the Father is also given to the Lord Jesus Christ in His second coming, which proves His deity (Rev. 17:14; 19:16). It would be blasphemy for a mere creature to share this exalted title with the only Sovereign of the universe. Any teaching that diminishes the supreme sovereignty of the Lord Jesus Christ is from the devil, whose one goal has been to overthrow the sovereignty of the Triune God.
(3) God alone is immortal (lit., “free from death”). He is the only uncreated, self-existent being who is not subject to death. The Father has life in Himself and gives it to whomever He wishes, and Jesus claimed the same divine attribute for Himself (John 5:26, 21). Proud men exalt themselves as if they will live forever. God sends an invisible virus or microbe and lays the strongest of men in the dust. The mighty Alexander the Great conquered the world but died in his early thirties in a drunken stupor with a raging fever. Only God is immortal!
(4) God dwells in unapproachable light. This refers to the splendor of God’s inherent glory, and especially to His unapproachable holiness. No sinful human being could even dare to draw near to God apart from His grace in Christ any more than we would dare to put a man on the sun. He would be instantly consumed. We can’t even look at the sun for more than a split second without being blinded. Even so much brighter is God in His splendor!
(5) God is invisible. “Whom no man has seen or can see.” God is spirit and cannot be apprehended by our finite human senses. We could never come to know such a great and mighty Being through our own reason or will power or human ability. But God condescended to reveal Himself to us in Jesus, who is the visible manifestation of the invisible God. Jesus said, “Not that any man has seen the Father, except the One who is from God; He has seen the Father” (John 6:46). He further claimed that no one knows “who the Father is except the Son, and anyone to whom the Son wills to reveal Him” (Luke 10:22). We can’t even come to know this sovereign, immortal, unapproachably holy, invisible God unless the Lord Jesus chooses to reveal Him to us!
So with Paul, we can only be overwhelmed with worship as we proclaim, “To Him be honor and eternal dominion! Amen.” If we maintain an awareness of the sovereign supremacy of our God, we can also maintain our integrity as men and women of God, even when we’re under fire.
John Piper, a pastor in Minneapolis, writes about a Sunday when he decided to preach on the greatness of God in His holiness and majesty as revealed in Isaiah’s vision (Isa. 6). Normally, of course, Piper would have worked on applying such truth to his flock. But on that day he felt led to make a test of whether the portrayal of the greatness of God in and of itself would meet the needs of people.
What he didn’t realize was that not long before that Sunday one of the young families in his church had discovered that their child was being sexually abused by a close relative. This family was there that Sunday and sat under his message. Piper reflects, “I wonder how many advisers to us pastors today would have said: ‘Pastor Piper, can’t you see your people are hurting? Can’t you come down out of the heavens and get practical? Don’t you realize what kind of people sit in front of you on Sunday?’
Some weeks later he learned the story. The husband took him aside after a Sunday service and said, “John, these have been the hardest months of our lives. Do you know what has gotten me through? The vision of the greatness of God’s holiness that you gave me the first week of January. It has been the rock we could stand on” (in The Supremacy of God in Preaching [Baker], p. 10).
Is proper theology and sound doctrine practical or impractical? What need do you have, what problem do you face, that cannot be met by getting a bigger vision of the Almighty God? Is your aim to keep God’s commandment without stain or reproach, but you’re feeling pressure to compromise your testimony? Then get a bigger awareness of God: of His presence which is always with you; of the soon appearing of the already-present Lord Jesus Christ; and of God’s sovereign supremacy. By His grace you will join Timothy and many other saints who have glorified God by testifying the good confession. You will live with integrity, even under fire.
Discussion Questions
1. Why is integrity so rare, seemingly even among Christian leaders?
2. The trend today is for Christian leaders to be “vulnerable,” sharing their faults. But Timothy was to live “without stain or reproach.” Where’s the balance?
3. One popular pastor and author says we need to be more “man-centered” in our theology. Why is this fundamentally flawed?
4. How (practically) can we gain a bigger view of God’s sovereign supremacy?
Copyright 1994, Steven J. Cole, All Rights Reserved.
Related Topics: Discipleship, Ethics, Spiritual Formation, Equip |
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Speed your Phone App Dev with the Cimbalino Windows Phone Toolkit
Today's Mobile Monday is a toolkit by Pedro Lamas that will help speed up your Windows Phone 7.x and 8 app development.
Yeah, I know it feels like I've been doing allot frameworks recently, but in my weird world, playing with new frameworks and seeing how they work is "fun". Why? They let you focus on building your apps, and not worrying about the goo. Or they let you see how the library author dealt with the goo. Or you LIKE goo and want to create your own goo buster. So many opportunities for fun. Smiley
Cimbalino Windows Phone Toolkit
Cimbalino Windows Phone Toolkit is a set of useful and powerful items that will help you build your Silverlight applications for Windows Phone.
The Toolkit is divided in projects, regarding different Windows Phone application required capabilities:
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit - the base project of the toolkit, containing base MVVM services, some very useful converters, helper classes and extension methods, and the bindable Application Bar behavior
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.Camera - MVVM compatible services for camera access
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.Controls - Controls library (requires Silverlight for Windows Phone Toolkit)
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.DeviceInfo - MVVM compatible services for device information access
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.Location - MVVM compatible services for location access
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.PhoneDialer - MVVM compatible services for phone dialer access
• Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit.UserInfo - MVVM compatible services for user information access
Note: this toolkit is only compatible with the Windows Phone SDK 7.1.x and Windows Phone 8.0!
The packages are available thru NuGet here, with the same handles as the project names (e.g., the main package is "Cimbalino.Phone.Toolkit")
Please visit the download section on GitHub to download the latest release of the toolkit.
I thought one of the cool things was that it supports both Windows Phone 7.1 and 8...
While you can easily grab the binaries from NuGut, since source is part of the fun, I grabbed the latest drop. Which compiled with no problems or errors.
How do you use it? There's a couple samples in the repository... Here's the Location sample.
So okay, what else is there of interest? Just check out snaps of the main library;
That enough to wet your appetite?
Cimbalino, you ask? Here's Pedro's answer.
"Cimbalino" is the word people from Porto (my home town!) use for expresso coffee!
The name Cimbalino is a reference to La Cimbali, a popular brand for expresso machines a few years ago in Portugal.
If you'd like you can hear how it is correctly read in Portuguese.
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Tragic Toppings : A Donut Shop Mystery
Donut shop owner Suzanne Hart sees customers come and go all day long. But when one of them up-and-disappears, the police start asking questions. It seems Suzanne is the last person to have seen Emily Hargraves, who runs the local newsstand. Suzanne has nothing to report about their encounter. But when Emily doesn't turn up, no news is bad news...
Suzanne has to admit that Emily's last request was a little odd--a blueberry donut made to order, with chocolate icing, sprinkles, stars, and a chewy sour gummy worm coiled on top. Odder still: Suzanne's ex-husband Max also appears to be missing. But what really takes the cake? The corpse Suzanne finds hanging from a tree in the park. Who knew donut-making could turn out to be such dangerous business...
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Jessica BeckNotify me of new titles added by this author
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Minotaur Books
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August 01, 2011
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Excerpt from Tragic Toppings by Jessica Beck
he day Emily Hargraves disappeared after visiting my donut shop, I had no idea that it would be the beginning of a series of seemingly unrelated events that would ultimately lead to the death of one of my dearest friends.
To be honest, I didn't think much about my encounter with Emily at the time. As the owner of the only donut shop in my small North Carolina town, I speak with a great many people in the course of running my business during the day, and Emily really didn't make much of an impression on me at the time. I did remember that she said she was on her way to Two Cows and a Moose--her newsstand just down the block from Donut Hearts--and while she wasn't exactly a regular at my shop, it wasn't unusual for her to visit when she wanted a sweet iced pastry treat. Emily didn't indulge that often, but when she did, it was all the way. No topping was too outlandish, no combination of tasty additions too much for her. In other words, she was my kind of gal, and we'd been friends ever since she'd come back to town after graduating from college.
I wish I had taken the time to chat with her a little more before I served her a blueberry donut with chocolate icing, sprinkles, stars, and a chewy sour gummy worm coiled on top--all per her request--along with a pint of the chocolate milk we sold in cute little boxes, but she came in when things were crazy, and I barely had time to do more than share a smile, serve her, and then take her money.
As it turned out, it appeared that I was the last one to see her. At least that's what Chief Martin tried to tell me a few hours after Emily had visited my shop. He wasn't all that pleased with me, but that honestly wasn't unusual. I wasn't sure if his frustrated relationship with my mother had anything to do with his attitude toward me, and I wasn't about to ask. It was a sore subject between the three of us, one that I was very careful to avoid whenever possible. Chief Martin and my mother had been trying for months to arrange their first official date, but every time it approached, Momma had found a new and sometimes ingenious way to postpone it. She finally promised the police chief that she wouldn't drag her feet any more, and they were slated to finally go out on their first real date later that night.
Until then, things would continue to be tense, and I'd been doing my best to avoid the police chief for the past few weeks, but now with Emily's disappearance, that wasn't going to work anymore.
When it came down to it, there weren't many folks in town who wanted Emily found more than I did. April Springs was very much like a small family, and when one of us was in trouble, it felt as though all of us were.
* * *
"We've been over this already," I said to the police chief as we stood in my donut shop covering the same ground again. Chief Martin purposely avoided looking at any of my donuts as we spoke, since he'd been on a diet ever since his divorce had become final. His weight was dropping, even if it was ever so slowly, but I'd never seen a man go to such lengths to avoid a donut so thoroughly in my life. I explained yet again, "She came by for a donut and a pint of chocolate milk, and that's the last time I saw her."
"What kind of donut did she buy?" he asked as he jotted something down in a small notebook.
"Does that really matter?" I asked.
"It might," he answered. "You never know with these things."
"It was blueberry."
"Just blueberry?" he asked, his pencil still poised over the paper.
"No, it had chocolate icing, sprinkles, stars, and a chewy sour gummy worm on top."
He scowled at me. "Suzanne, this is no time to trot out that odd sense of humor of yours. This could be serious."
Why was I not surprised he didn't believe me? "I'm telling you, that's exactly what she ordered, but I can assure you, there wasn't anything wrong with what I sold her." I was probably a little too defensive about it, but my donuts had shown up in police investigations a few times in the past, and I didn't want to even consider the possibility that the donut Emily had bought from me could be connected to her disappearance.
"Take it easy," he said as he jotted the donut's complete description down. "I have to ask. Who knows? It might turn out to be important." He closed the notebook, and then added a little apologetically, "Suzanne, I'm just doing my best to collect information right now."
I lowered my voice as I asked, "Why the fuss, Chief? She hasn't been missing that long. It's not like there's any reason to suspect foul play, is there?"
He shook his head. "No, at least not from what I've been able to uncover so far."
"Then what gives?"
The police chief almost whispered the next thing he said to me, and I had a difficult time hearing him. "Truth be told, she had an appointment in her shop with the mayor about a zoning waiver she's been trying to get for parking, and when she turned up missing, the boss was afraid it reflected badly on him somehow."
I wasn't all that fond of our mayor, and I knew that he wasn't afraid of throwing his weight around, especially when he was soon going to be up for reelection.
"I'm sure it's nothing. Is that all you need from me?" I asked, completely finished with this conversation if I could manage it.
"We're good for now," he said as he put away his notebook. "If you happen to think of anything else, give me a call."
I nodded my agreement. "You know, you really should speak with Gabby Williams. She spends half her day looking out her front window, so she might have seen something everyone else missed." Gabby was my nearest business neighbor. She owned ReNEWed, a secondhand shop that specialized in nice clothing gently used. If something was going on in town, chances were good that Gabby knew something about it. I'd used her as a source for information in the past myself, and though the facts and rumors she gave me were often valuable, they never came without some kind of price, even if it was just sharing a cup of her favorite tea and listening to her latest spin on the world of April Springs.
"We've already spoken," the chief said abruptly, and for a second, I actually felt sorry for the man. He was usually able to hold his own with folks around April Springs, but I knew that going up against Gabby, he'd have a battle on his hands. Most folks did, and I always tried my best to keep dancing that fine line that kept me off her expansive list of enemies.
"Did she have anything helpful to add?" I asked.
"Only that Emily walked into your shop, and that's the last time she saw her."
I shook my head. "Do you honestly believe that she still might be here? Feel free to search the place if you'd like. Emma's in back doing dishes, but I guarantee you that Emily's nowhere to be found on site."
The two young women had been friends for years, sharing the root of a common name, and my assistant was upset by Emily's disappearance. Conversations could get confusing if both of them were in the room at the same time, something the young women always had fun with.
"How's she holding up?" the chief asked softly.
"I didn't realize you knew how close they were."
He nodded and smiled briefly. "Believe it or not, I know quite a bit about our little town. Why don't you wait on your customers out here, and I'll go have a word with Emma in back."
I would have loved to listen in on that interview, but I still had a shop to run, and I needed our customers to know that I was on the job. Besides, there was no doubt in my mind that Emma would tell me everything they talked about once Chief Martin was gone.
* * *
"Suzanne, what's happened?" my mother asked six minutes later when she came bursting through the front door of Donut Hearts. She was a petite little thing, but anyone who judged her by her size was in for a rude awakening. My mother could take a stand against a grizzly bear and a mountain lion teaming up together and send them both scampering for the hills.
"Emily Hargraves is gone," I said.
My mother looked shocked by the news. "What do you mean, she's gone? You're not saying that she's dead, are you?"
I fervently hoped not. "No, she apparently missed an appointment with the mayor in her shop, and now everyone thinks she's vanished completely."
Momma wasn't buying that, though. "Nonsense, no one just disappears."
"Apparently that's exactly what happened. The mayor arrived at her newsstand ten minutes after she left here. He found the door open, and no sign of Emily anywhere."
"Couldn't she have just stepped away for a while?" Momma asked.
"I was wondering the same thing myself, but I can't imagine her not locking the front door on her way out. After all, the guys were all in there." The "guys" I was referring to were the store's namesakes: Cow, Spots, and Moose, three much beloved stuffed animals from Emily's childhood that she'd named her newsstand after. They now occupied a place of honor in her store on a shelf by the register. Emily took it one step further, dressing her three mascots in whatever seasonal outfits struck her fancy. In years past, they'd made appearances as Santas, superheroes, leprechauns, Uncle Sams, and a host of other characters.
Momma looked hard at me for a moment. "And how do you figure into all of this?"
"What makes you think I'm involved?" I asked, trying to muster as much indignation as I could manage. "I'm not a part of every odd thing that happens in April Springs."
"No," Momma said, "but you're usually in the middle of most of them, so don't bother denying it."
"Why do you think I am this time? It's pure coincidence that Emily came by the shop this morning."
My mother pointed outside to the police chief's cruiser. "Perhaps, but I know Phillip wouldn't ordinarily be visiting you here unless it was related to business, given his strict diet."
I wasn't above using our police chief's presence to motivate my mother to change the topic of conversation. "You shouldn't even be here then, should you?"
"Why ever not?"
"Isn't it bad luck to see him before your first date?"
"We both know that's when you get married. Suzanne, enough nonsense. I won't discuss my love life with you."
"Fair enough, as long as mine is off limits, too," I said.
Momma chose to let that slide. "Where is Jake this week?" she asked.
"He's in Dillsboro," I answered. My boyfriend was a state police investigator. As a matter of fact, that was how we'd first met. Our dating life had been turbulent for a while, but these days, the only problem we had was too much time apart as he traveled the state solving crime.
Momma nodded. "That's right, I read about it in the newspaper this morning. Who could imagine that someone might rob a train in this day and age?"
A pair of daring bandits had robbed a recreational train that traveled private tracks in the North Carolina mountains, sticking up its passengers car by car, and then vanishing into the woods on waiting four-wheelers before anyone could stop them. It wasn't exactly the Great Train Robbery, but it was enough to spur Jake's boss into action. It didn't hurt that the governor's daughter had been on the train on her honeymoon. I'd ridden that train more times than I could count, but fortunately, I'd missed that particular trip.
"Jake said they made off with a lot of loot," I said. "He's working the backcountry with dogs searching for them right now."
"The things that man does in the course of a day's work," my mother said.
"Don't kid yourself. He loves every second of it," I said.
Chief Martin chose that moment to come out of the kitchen. He had a stern look on his face that quickly melted when he saw my mother.
"Hello, Dorothy. You look lovely today."
So help me, I almost caught my mother blushing. "You should save some of that praise for later," she said.
"Oh, trust me. I've got plenty more where that came from." It was odd seeing that boyish grin on the police chief. I nearly told them to get a room, but I kept my mouth shut just for a change of pace. He smiled broadly at her and said, "I'll see you at six."
A troubled look crossed my mother's face. "Should you be going out on a date with me when you're just beginning a new case? If you'd rather postpone and keep searching for Emily, I'd understand completely."
"Not on your life," he said. "I'm not willing to wait another minute for our first date. Believe me, I've waited long enough." That much was true; the man had been pining over my mother since they'd been in grade school together. In a softer voice, he added, "Besides, I'm not even certain this is a real case. Emily's a grown woman, and until we hear differently, I'm not jumping to any conclusions about where she might be."
I was happy my mother was going out again, but I didn't need to hear any more from them at the moment. "Chief, did you need me for anything else?" I asked.
He looked surprised to see me still standing there. "What? No, we're finished, at least for now."
"Good. If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." That was a big whopping lie, since we didn't have a single customer waiting to be served, and Emma clearly had things in back under control, but I wasn't all that crazy about having the police cruiser parked in front of my shop, no matter what folks thought about the fond relationship that existed between cops and donuts.
"Yes, I'd better be moving on myself." I couldn't believe it when he tipped the brim of an imaginary hat to my mother, and I was about to say something when Momma said, "I'll see you this evening, Phillip."
"I can't wait," he said as he left the shop.
After he was gone, Momma said, "I'm afraid you'll be on your own for dinner tonight, Suzanne."
"That's fine," I said. "I've already got plans myself."
"Jake's not going to have time to come back to April Springs just to take you out to eat, is he?"
I shook my head. "No, but it's the next best thing. Grace and I are going out on the town." Grace Gauge was my best friend, and frequent coconspirator. She liked nothing more than digging into an investigation with me, but things had been quiet lately.
At least they had been until Emily stepped away from her shop without telling anyone where she was going.
* * *
I was just getting ready to close the donut shop for the day at the crack of noon when something caught my eye outside. A man was approaching Donut Hearts with a halting, limping gait, and for a moment, I didn't recognize him. But as he got closer, I saw that it was George Morris, a retired cop and good friend who had been injured, not in the line of duty, but following a lead for me. I'd been overwhelmed with guilt since his accident. No, "accident" wasn't the right word. His injury had resulted from a purposeful event, and my part in causing it was something I still had a hard time coming to grips with.
I rushed to open the door for him, and did my best to hide the sadness I felt when I saw him. With my bravest smile, I said, "George, you're looking good."
He grinned at me. "Suzanne, you're lying through your teeth, but I appreciate the sentiment. How are you?"
"That's what I should be asking you," I said as I stepped aside and let him in.
"I'm fine." He paused, and then grimaced slightly as he came into the shop. "Well, at least I'm getting better all the time. What more can anybody ask for than that, right?" He tried to smile, though I could see that it was a little forced.
"You're getting around pretty good."
He tapped his cane on the floor. "I do my best. Now enough about me. What's this I hear about Emily Hargraves?"
"How did you hear about that? News travels fast around April Springs, doesn't it?"
"Faster than you can imagine. How did you get involved in Emily's disappearance?"
I frowned at him. "What makes everyone think that I'm involved?"
"Come on, Suzanne, I'm not a cop anymore, but when I retired, I didn't give up my skills or my contacts. I hear things. The whole town's buzzing about her last being seen here at the shop." He tapped his cane again. "This thing has slowed my pace down some, but in a way, it's been a blessing. You'd be amazed how folks open up to an old man with a cane." He paused, and then added, "If you're not involved in the case, you might consider looking into what happened to her yourself."
"Why do you say that?" George certainly knew how to get my attention.
"I've heard talk that some folks around town suspect that you're the reason she's gone." He said it flatly, as though he were announcing baseball scores for Little League.
"Just because she was last seen here doesn't mean I had anything to do with her disappearance. Besides, we don't have any reason to suspect that anything is even wrong." My voice must have gotten a little louder as I spoke, and a few folks in the shop glanced over at us. "Hang on a second," I said to George. I wasn't about to get into that conversation with customers still in the donut shop. I put on my brightest smile and said, "Folks, it's closing time. Thanks for coming to Donut Hearts, and we hope to see you all again tomorrow."
After everyone was gone, I locked the door and turned back to George. "I'm sorry," I said once I'd managed to calm down a little. "I shouldn't have raised my voice like that."
"Don't apologize to me. I'm just telling you what I've heard. We need to do something, to help."
I grabbed a broom and started sweeping. "Slow down. Whether I look into this or not, you're not going to be involved in it this time. You're recuperating, remember?"
"This?" he asked, waving the cane in the air. "It's no hardship; more of an inconvenience, really. I might not be able to chase anyone down in a footrace, but that doesn't mean I'm completely useless."
From the tone in his voice, I could tell that I'd angered George, the last thing I wanted to do. "Don't you understand? Look at it from my point of view. I can't risk letting you get hurt again," I said, the honesty in my answer surprising me as much as it clearly did him.
He just shook his head. "Suzanne, a meteor could fall from the sky in the next ten seconds and I'd be just as dead as if something else happened to me. Just being alive is a constant risk, but it's not something I'm ready to give up on." He rubbed his chin for a moment, and then added, "You don't have to include me in your investigation, but that doesn't mean you can stop me from digging around into what happened to Emily on my own. She's a friend of mine, too, and I aim to find out what happened to her, with or without your blessing. Do we understand each other?"
I knew I was fighting a losing battle, so the only hope I had of reining him in was stepping in myself, whether I believed there was cause for alarm or not. "I get it, but I'm still not sure there's any reason to panic, at least not yet. Want a donut?" I asked.
"No, thanks, I've already had my breakfast, and I'm headed out to lunch now."
"You can put it in a bag and take it home for later," I said as I grabbed a plain cake donut and slid it into a bag. As I handed it to him, I said, "After all, it's still all I'm able to pay you for your professional investigative services."
He took the bag with a smile, and then asked, "What, no coffee anymore? I used to get both when I worked for you. Times are tough, I suppose."
I laughed, despite my reservations. "One coffee to go, it is. You drive a hard bargain."
George smiled at me. "I don't know; you're no pushover yourself."
I filled a to-go cup, and then gave it to him.
"Now we're in business," I said with a grin.
"When do we start?" George asked.
I'd agreed to enlist his help more to keep him from going off on his own than for a real need to dig into Emily's life. After all, I wasn't so sure I'd want anyone overreacting if I stepped away from Donut Hearts without taking out a full-page ad in the newspaper. "As soon as I finish closing up the shop I'll call Grace. Why don't you disappear for half an hour or so, and then come back?" Hopefully Emily would show up on her own before that.
"You're not going to do anything without me, are you?" The look of concern on his face was clear.
"I have a lot of work to do before I can leave Donut Hearts," I said. "Emma and I have to finish cleaning the place up, and I've still got to cash out the register and run my reports. Those things take time." I touched his shoulder lightly as I added, "Come on, George, don't be so paranoid. It doesn't suit you."
"Point taken," he said with a shrug. "I'll go grab a bite to eat. See you later."
After he left the shop, I watched him walk away. I wasn't sure if it was just my imagination, but I could have sworn that George's limp had suddenly gotten better. I suspected that having a purpose again was helping take his mind off his injury. As I replayed our conversation in my head, I realized that he had been completely right. I had no business trying to tell him how to run his life. If George wanted to take a few risks in order to feel alive, I wasn't about to stop him. All I could do was try to make the dangers more manageable, and I couldn't do that if he was off investigating on his own.
I kept working in the front, and a little later, Emma came out drying her hands on a dishtowel. "The dishes are done and the trays are clean." She glanced at the case. "I see you boxed up the last couple of dozen donuts. Anything else I can do to help out here?"
"No, we're good. You can go on. I'll balance the register, and then I'm taking off myself."
She grabbed a broom. "That's okay. I can sweep up if you'd like."
"I took care of that already," I said. I looked carefully at her and then asked, "Emma, are you stalling for some reason?"
"Honestly? I don't want to go home," she said, and I saw her fighting tears.
"Why not?" I asked softly. I knew she and her father had difficulties sometimes, but I'd never heard her hesitate about going home after a long shift at the donut shop.
"Dad means well, but he's going to ask me a thousand questions about Emily, and I don't know how to answer a single one of them. I'm a little concerned about where she might be, and he's not going to make it any easier for me. Emily's not just another story for his newspaper to me; she's my friend."
"Mine, too," I said, touching her shoulder softly. "I'm sure she's fine, and that she has no idea how worried we all are about her."
"I hope you're right."
"Don't worry. I'm calling Grace, George has already promised to help, and we'll all do our best to track her down. In the meantime, you can't keep avoiding your dad. Tell him what you just told me, and ask him to give you a break. He's not a bad guy if you give him half a chance."
"I know," she said, and suddenly tried to smile. "I'm okay."
"Good girl," I said, and let her out. The cash register balanced out on the first try, to my unending joy, and I prepared the bank deposit. When I was ready to lock up, I grabbed my phone and called Grace at home. I knew she was there doing paperwork, part of her responsibilities as a supervisor for her company.
"Hey there," I said when she picked up.
"I was just getting ready to call you," she answered.
"What's going on?"
"Believe it or not, I've got a problem. Someone I know just disappeared."
It didn't even surprise me that she'd already heard about Emily. "Trust me, I know. I'm not entirely certain that it's worthy of all this fuss, but she was last seen at the donut shop this morning."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then Grace asked, "What on earth are you talking about, Suzanne?"
I was baffled by her response. "Emily Hargraves is missing," I said. "Isn't that who you're worried about?"
"No, someone else in town has disappeared. It seems as though we've got an epidemic on our hands." |
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The Orient means the East. It is a traditional designation for anything that belongs to the Eastern world or the Middle East (aka Near East) or the Far East, in relation to Europe. In English, it is largely a metonym for, and coterminous with, the Continent of Asia.
The term "Orient" derives from the Latin word oriens (Orion) meaning "east" (lit. "rising" < orior " rise"). The use of the word for "rising" to refer to the east (where the sun rises) has analogs from many languages: compare the terms "Levant" (< French levant "rising"), "Vostok" Russian: Восток (< Russian voskhod Russian: восход "sunrise"), "Anatolia" (< Greek anatole), "mizrahi" in Hebrew ("zriha" meaning sunrise), "sharq" Arabic: شرق (< Arabic yashriq يشرق "rise", shurūq Arabic: شروق "rising"), "shygys" Kazakh: шығыс (< Kazakh shygu Kazakh: шығу "come out"), Turkish: doğu (< Turkish doğumak to be born; to rise), Chinese: (pinyin: dōng, a pictograph of the sun rising behind a tree[1]) and "The Land of the Rising Sun" to refer to Japan. Also, many ancient temples, including pagan temples and the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, were built with their main entrances facing the East. To situate them in such a manner was to "orient" them in the proper direction. When something was facing the correct direction, it was said to be in the proper orientation.
The opposite term "Occident" derives from the Latin word occidens, meaning west (lit. setting < occido fall/set). This term meant the west (where the sun sets) but has fallen into disuse in English.
History of the term[edit]
Harem Pool by the Orientalist painter Jean-Léon Gérôme c. 1876; naked females in harem or bathing settings are a staple of much Orientalist painting
In the later Roman Empire, the Praefectura Praetorio Orientis, the Praetorian prefecture of the East, included most of the Eastern Roman Empire from the eastern Balkans eastwards; its easternmost part was the Diocese of the East, the Dioecesis Orientis, corresponding roughly to the region of Syria. Over time, the common understanding of 'the Orient' has continually shifted eastwards, as Western explorers traveled farther into Asia. It finally reached the Pacific Ocean, in what Westerners came to call 'the Far East'. These shifts in time and identification sometimes confuse the scope (historical and geographic) of Oriental Studies. Yet there remain contexts where 'the Orient' and 'Oriental' have kept their older meanings, e.g. 'Oriental spices' typically are from the regions extending from the Middle East to sub-continental India to Indo-China. Travelers may again take the Orient Express train from Paris to its terminus in the European part of Istanbul, a route established in the early 20th century.
In European historiography the meaning of "the Orient" changed in scope several times. Originally the term referred to Egypt, the Levant, and adjoining areas.[2] Later the term became synonymous with Islam and Judaism and its scope expanded both eastward and westward to include all non-European areas of Eurasian civilization, including North Africa as far west as Morocco.[2] During the 1800s India, and to a lesser extent China, began to displace the Levant as the primary subject of Orientalist research. By the mid-20th century Western scholars generally considered "the Orient" as just East Asia, Southeast Asia, and eastern Central Asia.[2] As recently as the early 20th century the term "Orient" continued to often used in ways that included North Africa and even parts of southeastern Europe. Today the term primarily evokes images of China, Korea, Japan, Vietnam, and peninsular Southeast Asia.[2] Throughout the history of the changing sense of the term, "the Orient" was never equivalent to Asia as a whole. "The Orient" being largely a cultural term, large parts of Asia—Siberia most notably—were excluded from the scholarly notion of "the Orient".[2]
The adjectival term Oriental has been used by the West to mean cultures, peoples, countries, and goods from the Orient. "Oriental" means generally "eastern". It is a traditional designation (especially when capitalized) for anything belonging to the Orient or "East" (for Asia), and especially of its Eastern culture. It indicated the eastern direction in historical astronomy, often abbreviated "Ori."[3] In contemporary English, Oriental usually refers to things from the parts of East Asia traditionally occupied by East Asians and most Central Asians and Southeast Asians racially categorized as "Mongoloid". This excludes Jews, Indians, Arabs, and most other South or West Asian peoples. Because of historical discrimination against Chinese and Japanese, in some parts of the United States, some people consider the term derogatory. For example, Washington state prohibits the word "Oriental" in legislation and government documents, preferring the word "Asian" instead.[4]
In more local uses, "oriental" is also used for eastern parts of portions of the Mediterranean Sea, for example Morocco's Oriental Region. Oriental is also used as an adjective akin to "eastern," especially in the Spanish-speaking world. For example, the Philippine islands of Mindoro and Negros are each divided into two provinces whose titles include the words "oriental" and "occidental" respectively. The official name of Uruguay is the República Oriental del Uruguay or Oriental Republic of Uruguay because it is east of the Uruguay River.[5]
Since the 19th century, "orientalist" has been the traditional term for a scholar of Oriental studies; however, the use in English of "Orientalism" to describe academic "Oriental studies" is rare: the Oxford English Dictionary cites only one such usage, by Lord Byron in 1812. Orientalism is more widely used to refer to the works of the many 19th-century artists who specialized in "Oriental" subjects, often drawing on their travels to North Africa and Western Asia. Artists as well as scholars were already described as "Orientalists" in the 19th century. In 1978, Palestinian-American scholar Edward Said published his influential and controversial book, Orientalism; he used the term to describe a pervasive Western tradition, both academic and artistic, of prejudiced outsider interpretations of the Arab and Muslim worlds, shaped by the attitudes of European imperialism in the 18th and 19th centuries.[6]
Current usage[edit]
American English[edit]
Some in the Americas and Europe consider "Oriental" an antiquated, pejorative, and disparaging term. John Kuo Wei Tchen, director of the Asian/Pacific/American Studies Program and Institute at New York University, said the basic critique of the term developed in the 1970s. Tchen has said, "With the anti-war movement in the ’60s and early ’70s, many Asian Americans identified the term ‘'Oriental'’ with a Western process of racializing Asians as forever opposite ‘others’."[7] In a press release related to legislation aimed at removing the term "oriental" from official documents of the State of New York, Governor David Paterson said, "The word ‘oriental’ does not describe ethnic origin, background or even race; in fact, it has deep and demeaning historical roots".[8]
British English[edit]
In British English, the term Oriental is not considered a pejorative or offensive word, and refers to people from East and Southeast Asia. Asian is generally used only to mean people from South Asia.[9] This usage reflects historic immigration into the UK, since more than 50% of the non-European population is from India, Pakistan and Bangladeshi (in British English terminology called British Asian), whereas East and Southeast Asians comprise only 5-6% of the non-European population. Of those, the majority are of Chinese descent.[10]
Orient is also a word for the lustre of a fine pearl.[11]
Australian English[edit]
In Australian English, the term "Asian" generally refers to people of East Asian or Southeast Asian descent, such as those of Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Vietnamese, Thai, or Filipino descent. Persons of Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, and most other South Asian descent are referred to by their respective demonym, but without explicit knowledge, those people are indeterminately inferred as "Indian."
The word Oriental, in place of Asian, is seldom used in colloquial conversation in Australia and is understood, but considered old-fashioned rather than offensive.
In German Orient is usually used synonymously with area between the Near East and India, including Israel, the Arab World and Greater Persia
The term Asiaten (English: Asians) means the people of East Asia and Southeast Asia. Another word for Orient in German is Morgenland (now poetic), which literally translates as "morning land".
See also[edit]
1. ^ Harbaugh, Rick (1998). "東". Chinese Characters: A Genealogy and Dictionary. Han Lu Book & Pub. Co. p. 227. ISBN 0-9660750-0-5. Retrieved 2010-10-26.
2. ^ a b c d e Lewis, Martin W.; Wigen, Kären (1997). The myth of continents: a critique of metageography. University of California Press. pp. 53–58. ISBN 978-0-520-20743-1. Retrieved 8 November 2011.
3. ^ Hooke, Robert. 1666. Drawing of Saturn in Philosophical Transactions (Royal Society publication) Volume 1
4. ^ Senate bill (pdf file)
5. ^ CIA - The World Factbook - Uruguay
6. ^ Nosal, K R. American Criticism, New York Standard, New York. 2002
7. ^ Oriental: Rugs or People?
8. ^ official 2009 press release[dead link]
9. ^ BBC - Asian Network
10. ^ National Statistics Online - Population Size
11. ^ http://oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/orient
References and further reading[edit] |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22100 | From FedoraProject
Revision as of 19:31, 18 June 2012 by Evorock (Talk | contribs)
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I am an engineering student in computer science at my university collaborate and support in various free software events this year was the coordinator of a game in the festival of free software (FLISOL), and supported at different universities.
My first event was at the university where I attended Don Bosco and met several people, self-interest and knowledge in college after Evangelical support of my country, I made friends and acquired new knowledge, as to advanced years, my partner jutno Jose Carlos, we have supported our university.
From there the group founded GNU / Linux UDB-EIC, as previously existed but was more a group listed for that company, seeing that the faculty of Engineering did not have any help begin to create presentations from a lounge, then we were climbing about 3 years and now we are recognized for bringing this group.
The group is to help students and teachers who are interested in knowing and learning more about Free Software, each cycle to create a space where share Tutorials Talks about our know how from the most basic as far as the time comes, because each cycle we have new companions who are interested in learning more Free Software.
I met my first distribution of GNU / Linux mandriva was in 2006, since then and come to know experiences of this operating system. Back in college I started to encourage my colleagues about this operating system.
By mid-year progress interested me more and more, now I know about Arduino, a Free Open Hardware device, in recent years gave talks, events and training on Arduino and GNU / Linux, this year with a friend gave training based on Fedora 16 and Arduino, making known the advantages you have when you use Free Software.
I also do not center only on Free Software and hardware but support for the protest of SOPA and PIPA, publishing information on the blog we manage ALSW Jose Carlos, Some friends and I, at every novelty that arose was tired since one week to follow exactly every event that came up.
After we released it with Jose Carlos the importance of SOPA in our lives and how we gave a talk could affect our lifestyle, we met new people and teach young students the importance of the Internet develops in our lives, I think that has been one of our greatest achievements, to our knowledge to future generations.
To date not changed my mind, I consider the best alternative for the world to change this THROUGH free software, not as technology but the community spirit of free software and hardware disclosed, friendship involved, mutual knowledge and freedom we have.
Hector Alonso Mendez Orantes
Fedora Account: evorock |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22102 | Installation & Licensing
Message 1 of 2 (77 Views)
License Reservation ??
77 Views, 1 Replies
08-14-2000 04:04 PM
I'd like to know how to reserve a license with the Autodesk License Manager.
I know this is possible but I haven't figure it out yet.
Thank you
Please use plain text.
*Support\, Autodesk
Message 2 of 2 (77 Views)
Re: License Reservation ??
08-15-2000 02:23 AM in reply to: *Autodesk
Take a look in your online Installation Guide for 'Resource Files'. This
will explain how to reserve licenses for particular users or groups
Simon Gillis
Product Support Analyst
AMG Product Support UK
Worldwide Support & Services, Autodesk
Please use plain text.
You are not logged in.
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Installation and Licensing |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22103 | id summary reporter owner description type status priority milestone component version resolution keywords cc os architecture failure difficulty testcase blockedby blocking related 1046 Make array indexing immune to seg-faults simonpj igloo "As Spencer Janssen points out (http://www.haskell.org/pipermail/libraries/2006-December/006539.html), it's possible for a bogus instance of `Ix` to cause a Haskell implementation to seg-fault, simply by returning an out-of-range index. This is definitely a Bad Thing. The only way to avoid this possibility is to make `(!)` perform a bounds check ''after'' calling the `index` method of class `Ix`. GHC's current implementation (in `GHC.Arr`) is {{{ (!) :: Ix i => Array i e -> i -> e arr@(Array l u _) ! i = unsafeAt arr (index (l,u) i) }}} Instead we could have {{{ (!) :: Ix i => Array i e -> i -> e arr@(Array l u _) ! i = safeAt arr (index (l,u) i) }}} where `safeAt` performs a bounds check. But that would ''two'' bounds checks, one in `index` and one in `safeAt`. We could eliminate one by using `unsafeIndex`, which is a (usually hidden) method of GHC's `Ix` class definition. However, that might give rise to less-informative messages when the bounds check fails. To implement `safeAt`, we'd need a new primop: {{{ arraySize :: Array# a -> Int }}} There would need to be corresponding stuff for `Data.Array.IArray` and `Data.Array.MArray`." feature request closed high 6.8.1 Compiler 6.6 fixed p.tanski@… id@… Unknown/Multiple Unknown/Multiple Unknown |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22104 | Skip to content
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Removed a mention of `Form._errors` from the documentation.
Also removed a sentence that was incorrect: raising a
`ValidationError` inside `Form.clean` doesn't clear the
`cleaned_data` attribute.
Thanks to loic84 and timograham for the review.
• Loading branch information...
commit 9aa6d4bdb6618ba4f17acc7b7c0d1462d6cbc718 1 parent 8ed9646
Baptiste Mispelon authored
Showing 1 changed file with 6 additions and 10 deletions. Show Diff Stats Hide Diff Stats
1. 16 docs/ref/forms/validation.txt
16 docs/ref/forms/validation.txt
@@ -78,6 +78,10 @@ overridden:
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like. This method can return a completely different dictionary if it wishes,
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which will be used as the ``cleaned_data``.
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+ Since the field validation method have been run by the time ``clean()`` is
+ called, you also have access to the form's ``errors`` attribute which
+ contains all the errors raised by previous steps.
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@@ -95,7 +99,8 @@ These methods are run in the order given above, one field at a time. That is,
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+field, the ``Form.clean()`` method, or its override, is executed, no matter if
+the previous methods have raised errors or not.
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Examples of each of these methods are provided below.
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@@ -104,15 +109,6 @@ field, if the ``Field.clean()`` method raises a ``ValidationError``, any
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for all remaining fields are still executed.
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-should iterate through ``self.cleaned_data.items()``, possibly considering the
-already know which fields have passed their individual validation requirements.
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.. _raising-validation-error:
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Raising ``ValidationError``
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22107 | Loading ...
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• Isler, Bernhard
One of the goals of revising alarming was to get algorithmic and intrinsic reporting consistent. This is why we add FAULT_STATE, so that the Event Enrollment
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One of the goals of revising alarming was to get algorithmic and intrinsic reporting consistent. This is why we add FAULT_STATE, so that the Event Enrollment gets to MULTI_STATE_FAULT. Along this line, I believe we need the FAULT_STATUS_FLAGS algorithm, so that the EE object can go to MEMBER_FAULT.
To make this complete, we need to adapt the text for MEMBER_FAULT in addendum p clause 12 preamble changes. It is now very dedicated to the Global Group object. Also, it appears that the GGO's Reliability property language needs to get changed similar to e.g. the Multi-state Input Reliability property.
This brings up another point: Currently (in RK-005-10), the order of reliability evaluation in the EE is:
1) EE object internal
2) Monitored object Fault Flag
3) Fault algorithm
So the FAULT_STATUS_FLAGS would never be in effect in the EE if the GGO sets its Reliability to MEMBER_FAULT and sets its Fault flag. The EE would always go to MONITORED_OBJECT_FAULT. This is also the case for Multi-state, if the monitored object goes to MULTI_STATE_FAULT. The monitoring EE would go to MONITORED_OBJECT_FAULT, not MULTI_STATE_FAULT.
Changing the order of reliability evaluation would have other side effects. E.g. if the fault algorithm would have precedence over the monitored object's fault flag, then the EE would go e.g. to MULTI_STATE_FAULT, but the monitored object would be really unreliable, e.g. indicating OPEN_LOOP.
Given this, I can buy that the order of evaluation is as in RK-005-10, and the EE goes to MONITORED_OBJECT_FAULT.
Bernhard Isler
Siemens Switzerland Ltd
Building Technologies Division
From: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]] On Behalf Of Carl Neilson
Sent: Friday, May 28, 2010 6:57 PM
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: [bacnet-oswg] RE: RK-005 Issues
3) I added in FAULT_STATUS_ FLAGS for the Global Group. Is this really
required. The global group describes how the Member_Status_ Flags impact
the GG's Reliability / Status_Flags which is similar to how Fault_Values
impact the Life Safety object's Reliability / Status_Flags. But on the
other hand, the Event Enrollment object won't need the fault algorithm
as it will just monitor the GG's Status_Flags.
- It doesn’t make sense to have the FAULT_STATUS_ FLAGS when CHANGE_OF_STATUS_ FLAGS is the event algorithm.
Note that the CHANGE_OF_STATUS_ FLAGS event algorithm does not handle the TO_FAULT transition. So in addition to the CHANGE_OF_STATUS_ FLAGS there is the monitoring of the fault bit in the target StatusFlags and the generation of a fault transition when it is set occurs. For the Global Group, this would work regardless as the Global Group monitors the fault bit of the Member_Status_ Flags and sets is Reliability if the Fault bit is set. For other objects types, if the Fault bit is set and it is being monitored by an Event Enrollment, the Event Enrollment will notice the fault bit and set its Reliability to MONITORED_OBJECT_ FAULT.
But in the case where there is some other object type that has a property, X, of type BACnetStatusFlags which is not the Status_Flags property, and for which the object's Status_Flags property does not track the Fault bit, then when the Fault bit in X is set, and Event Enrollment would not generate a Fault transition.
And this is the reason for the dilemma.
|
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22132 |
RFP: ledcontrol
I'm the author of ledcontrol, a package to show arbitrary information on
the LEDs of the keyboard. I am looking for a maintainer who is interested
in maintaining the Debian package, as I am currently too busy to become a
Debian developer. I have already packaged it, though the package probably
still needs some trimming.
For instance, currently the daemon and GTK+ interface are in the same
package: they might be split so the daemon doesn't depend on GTK+.
Manpages are also missing, but I'm working on those.
Ledcontrol (and the current i386 Debian packages) can be found at
http://www.iki.fi/sampo.niskanen/ledcontrol/ It is licensed under the
If you are interested in maintaining the Debian package, please contact me
(please CC if mailing to the list).
/____\ Sampo Niskanen <=> [email protected] \
\ http://www.iki.fi/sampo.niskanen \
\ ________________________________________\___
Reply to: |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22133 |
Re: Results for General Resolution: Lenny and resolving DFSG violations
* Mike Hommey:
> On Mon, Dec 29, 2008 at 03:01:19PM +0100, Florian Weimer <[email protected]> wrote:
>> * Theodore Tso:
>> > I'm not ashamed at all; I joined before the 1.1 revision to the Debian
>> > Social Contract, which I objected to them, and I still object to now.
>> > If there was a GR which chainged the Debian Social contract which
>> > relaxed the first clause to only include __software__ running on the
>> > Host CPU, I would enthusiastically vote for such a measure.
>> I think it's not that simple anymore.
>> For instance, while I have no particular opinion on firmware, I object
>> to packages in main which, when run on a web browser, execute
>> proprietary Javascript blobs (either by shipping them in the package,
>> or by linking them in some way).
> Following the same logic, you should be opposing to packages such as the
> kernel, that allows to run proprietary ELF blobs. This is ridiculous.
If the kernel automatically downloaded some binary from the network
and executed it, I would consider that unacceptable for a default
configuration, too.
It's not the mere possibility that counts. I'm against doing this by
default (or requiring it for almost any use of a package).
Reply to: |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22149 | dict slice in python (translating perl to python)
Terry Reedy tjreedy at udel.edu
Thu Sep 11 01:03:03 CEST 2008
hofer wrote:
> Let's take following perl code snippet:
> %myhash=( one => 1 , two => 2 , three => 3 );
> ($v1,$v2,$v3) = @myhash{qw(one two two)}; # <-- line of interest
> print "$v1\n$v2\n$v2\n";
> How do I translate the second line in a similiar compact way to
> python?
> Below is what I tried. I'm just interested in something more compact.
Python does not try to be as compact as Perl. Pythoneers generally
consider that a feature. Anyway, the second Python version is
asymtotically as compact as the Perl code, differing only by a small
constant number of bytes while the code size grows.
> mydict={ 'one' : 1 , 'two' : 2 , 'three' : 3 }
> # first idea, but still a little too much to type
> [v1,v2,v3] = [ mydict[k] for k in ['one','two','two']]
The initial brackets add nothing. "v1,v2,v3 =" does the same.
> # for long lists lazier typing,but more computational intensive
> # as split will probably be performed at runtime and not compilation
> time
You have spent and will spend more time posting and reading than the
equivalent extra computation time this will take with any normal
exchange rate and computation usage.
> [v1,v2,v3] = [ mydict[k] for k in 'one two two'.split()]
This is a standard idiom for such things. If it bothers you, type "'one
two two'.split()" into an interactive window and 'in a blink' get
['one', 'two', 'two'], which you can cut and paste into a program.
> print "%s\n%s\n%s" %(v1,v2,v3)
However, more that about 3 numbered variables in a Python program
suggest the possibility of a better design, such as leaving the values
in a list vee and accessing them by indexing.
Terry Jan Reedy
More information about the Python-list mailing list |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22155 | Shared publicly -
Cod Codliness's profile photo
I'll be expecting lawsuits aplenty from this. There should also be resignations, from Katehi (who, in my opinion should have been out of that job the day this all happened) on down to Pike. At the very least there are many people who failed to do their job properly and some people who appear to have broken the law. As for Pike, "just following orders" was derided as a defense at Nuremberg, and nothing has changed since then. He should have refused to carry out his orders if they were morally untenable, and certainly his actions appear to have been not only wrong but criminal. The whole situation was a major clusterfuck and heads must roll.
Add a comment... |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22156 | Shared publicly -
RubiBox debuts a client for Symbian - It seems that the faster people write off Symbian as not having many apps or services, developers step into the breach to fill the gaps. Today's exhibit: RubiBox, a free, full ( client, for browsing and downloading, plus uploading files as needed. Screenshots and links below.
Add a comment... |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22163 | Ze Difficulty Instance
This is an instance made for Zombie Escape, but it can in theory be used for other game modes, like mini games or surf.
You can download the instance's vmf from here
If you are going to use it, be sure to read the instructions bellow. It might seem too clustered with relays and entities, but they are there to work as one and to keep your outputs organized. Also, if you use it in your map, try to give me credit for it. Thanks!
Also, don't steal my instance and release it as yours! Not cool! You can ONLY re-post the instance in other websites if you redirect them HERE somewhere noticiable in the body of the description.
How to use
Place the vmf under /counter strike global offensive/sdk_content/maps/instances. Then load the v
mf by placing an entity in the level and choosing func_instance. Load the vmf in it's corresponding property. (NOTE, for instances to work, you need to have saved your level first.)
Once it is loaded, you will see something like in the picture below (For clearing purposes, I removed the back wall)
(Click on the image to make it big)
The very first thing you want to do, is to collapse the instance into the map. You should not modify the instance's vmf, because then you cannot use it for other maps, or in case you need the original. If you do not collapse it into the map, you are gonna have a bad time adding outputs to the proper relays.
Before I can explain how to use it, i thin kit is better to understand how it works. Each cilinder represents a difficulty. and on the bottom is a trigger_once that triggers out a relay for its corresponding difficulty. To stop all sphere from falling down and causing an output mess, I put a func_brush between the cylinders and the triggers.
Func_brushes have a special property in CSS and CSGO. Their enable/disable property maintains between rounds. Some people hate that "bug" because it requires manual reseting, but in this case, it is glorious. Because it means at the end of a zombie escape vechicle/bunker, I can activate an output to the brush to be disable, which will stay disable for the next round, thus changing the difficulty in the next round.
So now, I can go on and explain by the numbers.
When the map is loaded, (1) disables 1 brush, which in this case is for the easy difficulty. Each difficulty has a number from 0 to 3. (0 = easy, 1 = normal, 2 = hard, 3 = suicide). Once the brush is disable, the sphere (2) falls down into the trigger (3). The trigger has an output to trigger a relay(4), which in turns triggers 3 relays (5). Relay (4) also kills all cylinders, to avoid any weird outputs when humans win, or an admin changes the difficulty.
It might sound silly to trigger 3 relays, but they are divided in trigger entities (So, any outputs that target entities, like sounds, music, sprites, go there), in brushes that get turned on (Boxes, walls, etc. It is nice to tag them with brush_on_easy_hard, this way, you know where you have to enable them) and brushes that get turned off (brush_on_hard_normal_suicide would be here for example, for the easy difficulty relays). You need to have off and on said explicitly, to avoid any gaps when an admin no clips and presses a button via (8).
When humans win reach the exit, you create an output to a relay (6). This will enable the corresponding brush for the following difficulty and it will also write in the chat if you have a point_servercommand with a targetname of @command somewhere in the level. Relay (7) is similar to (6), exepct that it does not changes difficulty and it triggers a say command that informs players they won the map.
There are 4 computers. When you press their buttons, it will change the difficulty into the corresponding one. It also leaves a message of what diffuclty and the time until the map restarts. For the map restarts you will need a trigger_hurt named @kill_all. Do not use the nuke, as the final nuke usually does not cover the whole map and leaves a space for the bunker/rescue vehicle.
Relay 9 does nothing. It is there for you to write and keep track of all the brush outputs. If you create a brush_on_easy, add an output there. Then at the end, copy and paste them into the respective relays.
I hope this instance helps you out and I hope you can achieve great levels with it! |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22193 | Hello there and welcome to the BMW Car Club of America.
Unable to initialize the Keyless FOBs
Discussion in 'DIY (Do-It-Yourself)' started by elias.juan, Aug 26, 2009.
elias.juan guest
Post Count: 4
Likes Received:0
Hello Everybody!
I'm writing this post, because I'm frustrated with my "Alarm" system, and I don't want to believe that it might be the Central Lock System, please help me troubleshoot it... Here are the Facts and Symptoms:
-It's a 95' 540 with the "Anti-Theft System IV" (DWA IV)
-The "original" rearview mirror was broken so it needed to be replaced and while I had the battery disconnected I replaced it (it wasn't working before but at least the Alarm was disarmed)
-In the users manual it said that it should come with an additional book with the Alarm Instruction which is not available and of course never was so I don't know how to "Disarm" it either (playing around seems like it's not working now though).
-When I try to Initialize the Keys' they do the process (at least they do show that with the led) but nothing happens on the car.
-If I open with the Key from the Drivers' side, it unlocks everything but the back doors (the trunk works) and it doesn't disarm the Alarm, if I try the same from the Passenger side, it unlocks everything but the back doors and it does disarm the Alarm.
(Wait, it gets worse)
-I can lock everything from the Drivers' side but I can't from the Passengers side (it comes back like if there's a door open, which is not and the hood switch is working properly).
-I can manually open the door behind the passenger side but not the one behind the drivers side (which eventually works sometimes if the car reaches certain temperature)
-Seems like someone deliberately cut off the cables to the gas pump from the Alarm so I can still start the car when the Alarm goes off...
I really would like to fix this "Baby"
elias.juan guest
Post Count: 4
Likes Received:0
Part of the problem found...
Seems like I would need to work on three doors that are not working with the Keyless entry, but that's another story...
BMW discontinue some products from time to time, but when they do, they tend to have a replacement for it, well, the rearview mirror that's supposed to replaced the Original on my E34 (and it might be the case for most of them out there) ends up in a very nice and new Electric EC/LED rearview mirror that it will automatically Dim it self (with the clown nose). Part # 51 16 9 134 440 is the "Ultimate Supercession" for most of the old Rear-view mirrors, which is not really true... so be aware, I will keep you posted on which solution do I get from Germany now!
Attached you will see a screenshot of the Supercession Sequence.
elias.juan guest
Post Count: 4
Likes Received:0
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global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22227 | Summary: With her marriage to Adam falling apart, and her own feelings of self worth shaky Julie finds comfort with an old friend.
Author's Note: OK, so here's the deal. I'm not abandoning the crossover. I promise promise promise I will go back to it. I'm just low on inspiration for it at the moment. I feel like I've got a fully flushed out story for this one, and kind of a dramatic one, compared to my others. Even the others connected to this one. Just a warning, there are really strong religious themes, I'm not sure why, I just sort of wrote it like that. Some of the things that Julie and Dean say may sound a little wierd if you aren't Catholic...I hope they aren't taken the wrong way, it's a Catholic thing, we get a little into our own culture from time to time. But afterward we always feel really guilty about it though. Anyway, I hope it is enjoyed.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
Looking For Myself
Chapter 1: The Baby
Looking For Myself Looking For Myself
Julie woke up, refreshed from the first good night's sleep she had gotten in almost two weeks. She'd been agonizing over what she should do and then driving so sleep hadn't come easily. For some reason she had slept more soundly in one night on Dean Portman's couch than she had next to her husband in almost a year. She knew she should call him, but couldn't do it. She wasn't ready for that yet. Knowing Adam, he would call her mother, and knowing her mother she would tell him exactly where she was. She had her cell phone switched off, and got off the couch. She suddenly realized the date and remembered that she had promised herself she would go to church that day. Real church, Catholic Mass, not the protestant services she'd been going to twice a year, since she married Adam. She would light a candle and say a prayer to the Virgin Mary, asking her to care of her baby. She would go to confession and ask forgiveness for living a lie for the past twelve months. She was going to be the perfect Catholic from now on, it had been way too long since she set foot in a church and received communion, too long since she said a Rosary, too long since she could actually look her mother in the eye without the burn of Irish Catholic guilt piercing her soul. The problem was she was far away from anything familiar, and that included a parish that she knew she could go to. As she was wrapped in thought, Dean came out of the bedroom, he smiled as he looked at her with her head in her hands.
"Hey," he said sitting next to her. "You sleep ok?"
"Yeah," she said looking at him, "I slept great actually, the best I have in a while. Dean, where's the nearest church?"
"Real church?" He joked, nudging her. She remembered how at Eden Hall, she, Portman and Luis used to make fun of the overly preppy WASPs that surrounded them. They were the only Catholics on the Ducks, and part of a small contingent at Eden Hall who used to ride a bus to mass every Sunday and on Holy Days of Obligation.
"I need confession like a whore who slept with a pope," Julie laughed, "and I need to light a candle."
"For Adam," Dean said quietly.
"No, not for Adam," she shook her head. "A year ago today, I miscarried, I need to ask Our Lady to take care of my baby. I should have done it a long time ago."
"You were pregnant?" Dean said looking at her, he knew how hard that was, his mom had lost two babies. "How far along?"
"Six weeks," she said, "six weeks of complete pregnant bliss. I didn't mind the puking, everyone said that I was glowing, and then it ended." She started to cry, "it ended just as fast as it came. And it killed me, because I know it happens all the time, and I know that Adam and I could have tried again, but I got the feeling he didn't want to. When he came home that day, and found me in bed, he seemed almost relieved, like he hadn't wanted the baby to begin with. That's when it all started, he started working all the time, I stopped writing, and we fell apart. When I finally asked him about trying again, he said that he wasn't sure he even wanted kids." She shook her head. "I have to have kids, Dean, I mean, Adam doesn't get it as much, he's so, well he's so,"
"Protestant?" Dean said filling in the blanks.
"I didn't want to say that." She said. "But yeah, god, did you know I practically became one of them? I went to a service on Christmas and Easter and didn't set foot in a church any other time. I mean, a service, not even mass. I was in a country club with women who planned to have all two of their children by cesarean on planned due dates, because it's easier to get your figure back that way." She laughed at her own idiocy, "I sat and drank tea with them, and planned fundraisers, and put my career and family on hold to fit in to their little world. God, I feel like I'm in confession now."
"I'd give you a pretty easy penance," Dean laughed along with her. "Listen, the church is a decent drive from here, I'll go with you if you want. You know in case lightening strikes your protestant ass down." She laughed and playfully slapped him. "Nah, I'm kidding with you. I always knew deep down you were still the good Catholic girl my mother wanted me to fall in love with."
"I'd like it if you'd come with me," she nodded, "do you go often?"
"Every Sunday," he smiled, "and Holy Days."
"And Holy Days," Julie nodded and then smiled, "I feel like we should call Luis." Dean laughed.
"Come on Cat," he said, putting his arm around her as they walked towards the door, "let's get you some absolution."
Adam walked through the door of his house, it had been two weeks since he had been home. He'd been away on business, and he hated that he hadn't been home that night. She probably thought he hadn't remembered, but he remembered that day more clearly than any other in his life. He had walked in, much like he did now and his wife, his precious Julie, his lovely Cat, was curled up in their bed crying. It had broken his heart to see the strong woman he loved reduced to that. He knew she was probably a wreck now.
"Julie," he shouted, "I'm home." He walked up the stairs. "Jules?" He walked into the bedroom. He saw an envelope sitting on the pillow with his name on it. "Shit." He mumbled as he took the envelope and opened it.
Dearest Adam,
I know this is the wrong way to do this. Actually I don't know that there's a right way to do this. I've been thinking for a long time, almost a year actually. After we lost the baby I felt like I lost you too. I know I lost myself. So that's what I'm doing now, I'm finding Julie again. I can't promise I'll be back, I do promise I'll call you soon. I love you so much, but I just don't know that that's enough any more.
All my love,
It was about the baby. He knew it had to be about the baby. He never should have said the things he said. He did want kids, he wanted a family. But he had been so afraid, he had been so afraid that it would happen again, that she would feel that joy and then that loss all over again. He couldn't stand to see her that unhappy again. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized even without the added unhappiness of a lost baby, she had still been miserable over the past year. He just ignored it, he buried himself in work. He also knew his wife, there would be two people who most likely knew where she was. He picked up the phone and dialed his mother in laws number. He heard the phone ring twice.
"Hello?" he heard, Jane Gaffney's voice on the other end.
"Jane?" He said, realizing he sounded panicked. "Jane? Is she there?"
"She's on her way Adam." She bit her lip. "She ran into Dean Portman last night. She stayed with him, rather than drive all night. She said she was going to call me when she was leaving."
"Portman? She's at Portman's?" He said barely believing it. He had expected her to go to her mother, to Luis maybe, but not to Portman.
"Well, that's what she said." Jane stated flatly. While she had always liked her son in law, she knew how unhappy her daughter had been over the past year. "Do you remember what today is, Adam?"
"I remember," he sighed, "all too well. Maybe I'll call her cell phone." He said out loud to himself.
"Don't bother," Jane said, "she turned it off. I already tried." Jane sighed. "Just give her time to breathe Adam. Let her come back to you. I'll tell her you called when I talk to her."
"Right, thanks Jane." He said, hanging up the phone. He picked it up again, and almost called Charlie Conway. He needed to talk to his best friend, but suddenly he realized he didn't need the Duck chain spreading this. He hadn't included them in any of his and Julie's problems since they lost the baby. They probably all thought they still had the perfect marriage. Finally he decided he couldn't be alone, so he just swallowed his pride and made the phone call.
Reviews Please! |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22228 | A/N: Wow, here we are: The final chapter. I know I must sound like a broken record, but really guys – I just want to say how much all of your encouragement and reviews have meant to me, and how thrilled I am that you guys have enjoyed this story so far. So without further ado, here it is: the last chapter. Enjoy. :)
Disclaimer: I own a very large nothing.
Chapter 15:
Dr. Cox could only stare, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open. Did...Did Newbie just say he remembered!? "Uh…what?" The older man tried not to openly cringe at his own response, his inner voice already mocking him for it. "'Uh…what!?' The great Percival Cox reduced to 'Uh, what?' Nice, Per. Way to go."
"I, um…I remember last week…?" JD tried again hesitantly, still shifting where he stood. "I mean, I…I, um…I could go. I-If you'd rather not talk about it. I know you're not big on talking about things, and I…I mean, I'm not hear to necessarily talk about it, but maybe, I mean…I'm kinda confused and have some questions? Or…or maybe not. Because I could go, you know…if you really wanted me to. 'Cause it's really not –"
"You're babbling, Newbie."
JD flushed while Dr. Cox silently calmed himself down. The brunet was probably more freaked out than he was at the moment, which was made pretty apparent by his rambling. And it wouldn't do any good to have two doctors stumbling all over their words now, would it? JD remembering certainly wasn't part of the plan, but now that it happened, well, Perry would just have to deal.
"Alright, kid. Standing there staring at your feet isn't going to answer any of your questions now, is it? Come on in."
JD, hesitance still the most dominant feature in his expression, walked in slowly. He stared around the dimly lit apartment, and at first, Dr. Cox thought he was keeping a wary eye out for Jordan.
"The she-devil's resting in her cave, and Jack went to bed hours ago."
"What? Oh...oh, right. No, I…I just kind of, well…I don't remember everything yet – from last week, I mean – but just standing here, looking at your place…I feel kind of sad. Like I miss being here."
Dr. Cox stared quietly for a moment, taking his young protégé in before finally giving a soft nod towards the couch. "Take a seat, Newbie."
JD did as he was told, still finding himself unable to make eye contact with the older man. The two of them sitting on the couch, a good four feet apart from one another, was admittedly awkward. JD swallowed hard. Maybe he shouldn't have come. But just as he was getting ready to add more doubts and worries about showing up at his mentor's apartment, Perry spoke.
"So do you remember the whole week? Or just…bits?"
"Not the whole week, but it's been coming back to me in bits, I guess. More like pictures, really. I'll remember a random incident, and then my mind wraps around that specific moment, and it adds to the rest of the picture so that it actually makes some sense. What I said, what you said…stuff like that."
"Ah," Perry responded simply, clearly taking it all in. "And when did you start remembering?"
"About three days into this week," JD answered, confirming Perry's suspicions. After all, three days in was when Newbie randomly started on that shy streak of his. "At first," JD continued, jarring the older man out of his thoughts. "At first, I thought it was a side effect from my –" here the young doctor paused to make air quotations "– 'Concussion,' though I'm assuming that's not the real reason I missed a week of work, huh…"
Perry stuck with nodding, still focusing on taking everything in.
"But, yeah…" JD started up again. "I realized they weren't side effects, which actually scared me at first, you know? I mean…I thought I was going insane or something. But every time I saw you at work the memories would get clearer and clearer, and then, well…I noticed something that definitely wasn't there the week before."
Dr. Cox quirked a curious eyebrow. "'Something that wasn't there the week before?'" What was Newbie talking about?
But Perry realized exactly what JD had been referring to when he began to roll up his pant leg. Ah, damn it! How did they miss that!? "Your scar," Perry said quietly, even before JD was done rolling up the material.
"Yeah," he answered softly. He startled, however, when Dr. Cox was suddenly leaning towards him. Crap, what did he do wrong?
But Perry wasn't moving closer to rant or to rave. He was getting closer to examine the knee; to make sure the injury was at least healing up alright. JD let a soft smile slip onto his face when he knew the older man wasn't looking. Even before all of this happened, their relationship had improved, JD knew, but he wasn't sure how Dr. Cox would take to him remembering their past week together. If he still couldn't manage to give JD such a simple thing like a hug, would he really be willing to sit down and answer his questions?
But now here he was, sitting in his mentor's apartment and having his injury looked over with a concerned set of eyes.
"Do you remember this happening?" Perry asked suddenly.
Maybe it was just JD's imagination, but he could've sworn he detected a hint of guilt in the older man's tone. "No, actually. I don't. I guess that's kind of weird, considering the scar was the thing that helped me realize I wasn't going nuts, but…every time I try to remember that one, it gets foggy."
To JD's surprise, Perry gave a little wince. "That makes sense. We had to drug you up, kid. You were pretty scared to get stitches, so Gandhi went and got you a sedative."
"I knew Turk saw me like that! I mean, I figured he must've in since he was part of the whole concussion cover up, but most of my memories were just of me and you. But then I randomly started getting bits with Turk and Carla and – Oh, God…"
Dr. Cox, now back on his side of the couch, looked to JD quizzically. "Newbie…?"
"I just remembered something. Elliot…you guys let Elliot see me like that?"
"That was not my doing. That was all Carla. Hell, even Milk Dud thought it was a bad idea."
"So I don't get it…why was she here then?"
Perry shifted uncomfortably, making JD squirm a little himself. Dr. Cox so rarely looked uncomfortable, but it wasn't just that. He looked almost…sad, maybe? Guilty?
"I left to get us some food, and you…you kind of freaked out there, Newbie."
"I thought it'd be better for you to just wait at hom – at the apartment, so I called Carla to come baby-sit. When I went to leave though, you panicked. Thought I wasn't coming back… Anyway, I left after you calmed down, but then Carla was called to the hospital, and she decided instead of calling to tell me that, to call Elliot and have her bust into my apartment. I came home to a rambling Barbie and a kid with ribbons in his hair."
JD flushed. "R-Ribbons?"
Perry couldn't help the grin that came across his face. "Apparently she had you playing dress up."
"Oh, God…can we not tell her I remembered? I don't want her rubbing it in my face."
Perry let out a small laugh in spite of himself. "No skin off my nose, kid."
"Thanks." Another silence, though less awkward than the last, took over then. JD broke it with a question Perry hadn't been expecting. "Why did I think I was so young? And how old did I think I was?"
Dr. Cox chose to ignore the first question and skip right to the second. "You don't remember how old you were?"
JD shook his head. "I know I thought I was a lot younger, but no. I can't remember a specific age."
"Five? Really?"
"Yeah. Really."
"Wow… So, um…you still didn't answer my first question. Why did I think I was so little?"
"You, uh…you got hypnotized, Newbie."
"I got…I got what!?"
"You got hypnotized."
This was when Dr. Cox had to really stop and think. Should he really go all the way back to when Mr. Edwards first showed up at the hospital? But JD didn't remember any of that, and the kid was already trying so hard to take everything in; processing it and putting it all together at once. And what if…what if JD thought that their relationship had only gotten better because of the initial hypnotism? Sure, that's what led to them finally getting along, but Perry hadn't done that solely because the kid had gotten hypnotized. Yes, Dr. Cox would tell him – eventually – about the original hypnotism, but not now. Not today. It wasn't the right time, and it certainly wasn't fair to JD.
So then how was he going to explain this time around?
"Dr. Cox?"
"It was a trigger word. You were sleeping in the on-call room, and something was said that hypnotized you."
"Wow," JD answered, eyes going wide. The kid seemed to be mystified, and Dr. Cox couldn't say he blamed him.
Suddenly, JD was giggling. Perry looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Got something you'd like to share, Newbie?"
"Whenever I remembered something, I would remember it through my five-year-old point of view, you know? And you were really tall. I mean, I know in actuality you weren't much taller than me, but I guess because I thought I was five, everything looked a lot bigger. You included."
Perry let out a short laugh. "Makes about as much sense as everything else that's happened so far. So what else do you remember?" Dr. Cox wasn't honestly sure why he asked. Part of him was feeling much more comfortable with the situation, genuinely curious as to what the kid did and did not recall from their week together. But part of him was definitely nervous. What if he remembered some of the more…emotional moments? Would that be a good thing? Would that be a bad thing? Did he really want adult JD to remember that much of his – God help him – gentler side?
"I remember getting sick," JD answered slowly, trying to recall as much of the memory as he could. "Yeah…yeah, I remember that pretty clearly. I had the stomach flu, and I remember being – oh…"
"What's the matter?"
JD flushed. "No, I…I remember being really, um, scared. Geez, can't believe I was that petrified over throwing up." The brunet gave a short, humorless laugh, eyes turned away from his mentor.
Dr. Cox subconsciously moved closer to JD, doing his best to be reassuring, even if he wasn't used to doing so with the young doctor out of his five-year-old state. "Newbie…you ra-heely thought you were five. There was no questioning it. Hell, the only thing that wasn't five about you was your physical appearance, but that's it. So of course you were freaking out there, kid. You didn't know what was going on."
"Yeah…yeah, I know. Uh…this is going to sound weird, but I should probably apologize for a couple of things, huh?"
"What?" Perry leaned forward on the couch, silently wondering how Newbie was capable of throwing him off guard so many times in a manner of minutes.
"Well, there was the finger painting incident, which was actually the first thing I remembered. Then there was me singing too early in the morning. Then there was me trying to make sandwiches when you said not to, even if things after that do get a little fuzzy... Then there was me drinking your coffee, and then –"
A sharp whistle cut the blue eyed doctor off, making him jump in his seat. "Newbie, did you not hear my whole, 'You thought you were five,' explanation from before? It's fine. You don't have to come over here and apologize for normal, five year old things. Hell, it's not like you went around throwing tantrums. You were…you were a really good kid, JD."
JD couldn't help the warm feeling that fluttered at the base of his stomach, or the small smile that overtook him as his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. "O-Okay, then. I…thank you."
"Don't mention it, kid."
"No, I don't mean just for that. I mean…thank you. Thank you for taking care of me when I was like that. I know it must've been awkward for you at first, but…God, I just…thank you so much, Dr. Cox. For everything you did. And…and thank you for…for finding me…"
It took Perry a moment to realize what JD meant about finding him, but when it hit him, it hit him hard. He remembered that? Oh, God… "You, um…you remember the beach, Newbie?"
JD nodded softly. "I remember getting there and you taking me down to the ocean. That was nice… Then I remember being at the ocean again, but with Carla. I wanted…I can't remember what I wanted, to be honest, but I knew I was supposed to go back to our set up; to you. And I remember a crowd of kids with their parents cutting in front of me, and then when they moved aside, I…I couldn't see you. And then I just remember panic. I think at one point somebody yelled at me. I don't remember why, but then my memory clears again, and there was the fun house. I don't know why I thought that'd be safe. I just…did. But I remember really freaking out. There was…there was too much noise and not enough light, and I just…I guess I crawled into the safest place I could think of."
Perry closed his eyes, the words bringing back the image of JD curled up and alone; petrified.
"And then you came," JD continued, voice even softer than before. "You came and…and you got me out of there. I remember me hugging you and you…you hugging me back. You didn't push me off at all, and I…thank you, Dr. Cox."
Perry stared at his protégé for what felt like forever. The kids' hands were folded tightly in his lap, thumbs fiddling together nervously. His voice had been dangerously close to cracking when expressing his gratitude, and his eyes…his eyes were filled to the brim with unshed tears.
"And I remember," the young doctor started up again, gaze still focused solely on his lap. "I remember me calling you…calling you, well…what young kids call their father. And you…you saying that was okay."
Dr. Cox felt his stomach twist nervously. When JD first told him that he remembered, these were the kind of moments he'd felt unsure about. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? How would JD react to this memory? But watching the young doctor before him seemed to push whatever worries he had about their current situation aside. He looked so…little. So hesitant and scared. And the craziest part was that only a few months ago, something like this would've made Dr. Cox angry. Not that he didn't actually give a damn back then, but he just wasn't at a point where he ever imagined letting JD know he cared. He probably would've said something along the lines of learning to grow a pair or how he just had to suck it up, but everything was different now, and Perry couldn't find a single protest to the change in their relationship.
"Did you know," JD continued, startling Dr. Cox from his silent contemplation. "I didn't even call my real dad that? Dad. Just dad. But for one reason or another, I never called him… Well, it doesn't matter. I just…I just came over here to say thank you, and…and I know I was kind of bothering you about giving me a hug – before all of this started, I mean – and I just…you've given me so much more than I could ever really ask for, so I won't keep on asking for that, okay? And I…I'll get why things might be a little awkward at first, but part of me was scared to come over here because we seemed to finally be getting along, and I didn't want to mess things up again. I just –"
JD turned to him slowly, expecting to be told he'd been rambling again, or that thank you's and apologies weren't necessary. But instead he came across a sight he in no way ever expected to see. Ever.
Dr. Cox was still sitting on the couch, but his body was turned towards his protégé; back straight and arms out and open - waiting. Oh my God. Was he…was he really offering a…? No. No way. Dr. Cox had pulled this prank on him a number of times before. He'd lure JD in, and then bam! He would turn him away, leaving JD to feel rejected and embarrassed.
But that was before all of this, and after everything JD was remembering, was it really so odd to imagine Dr. Cox sincerely offering him a hug?
Surreal? Yes. Odd? No. Not anymore.
JD didn't realize he was still staring until the older man nodded encouragingly. "C'mere, kid," he said in a voice that JD, or anyone for that matter, so rarely heard coming from Dr. Cox.
Slowly, cautiously, JD leaned forward. The moment his chin found a spot on Perry's shoulder, two large arms wrapped around him, allowing JD's own arms to return the gesture. JD couldn't help but sigh, the feel of the older man's embrace unbelievably comforting. "I didn't expect this," JD commented softly, still not letting go.
He heard his mentor give a small chuckle. "Yeah, kid, neither did I. You remembering last week wasn't exactly part of the plan, but…"
JD froze. But what?
"But it's alright, Newbie."
Much to JD's disappointment, Perry began pulling away from the embrace, but when he placed both hands on JD's shoulders to look him in the eye, the young doctor realized he didn't do it out of annoyance. "Listen, JD…not every day is going to be a montage of fluffy moments between Sacred Heart's favorite mentor and protégé, you get me? Work's still work, and I'm still, well…I'm still me. I'm gonna get angry and I'm gonna go on rants, but you…Newbie, you know I give a damn now. You have to. And it won't be awkward if you don't want it to be, alright? 'Cause I…I wouldn't like that either. And I know this is going to sound insane, but seeing as how I'm already sharing a hell of a lot more than I ever imagined, well…here it is: I think I'm sorta…sorta glad you remembered there, Newbie. So no, this won't be awkward. Not if you don't want it to be."
JD swallowed, praying to God a thousand times over that he wasn't off in yet another fantasy. He blinked several times, testing this theory out, but when he opened his eyes after the eighth or so blink to find Perry simply staring at him, eyebrows slightly furrowed, JD couldn't help but smile, his shoulders finally easing as he did so. "No, I definitely don't want it to be awkward. And…and I know you care, Dr. Cox. I've always known…"
Perry rolled his eyes at this comment, but there was definitely a trace of humor in his expression as he did so. It just made JD smile wider. "So thanks, Dr. Cox. I…thank you."
Perry removed his hands from JD's shoulders then, the anxiety from awaiting his response melting in the process. "Any time, kid. Not to say you should go and get yourself hypnotized again, but you get me."
JD giggled. "I get you. Oh! I just remembered: I was unpacking my duffel bag earlier this week, and I found a stuffed bear and a, uh…a giraffe. Are they…are they mine?"
Perry would've kicked himself for having been so careless as to having personally packed evidence right into Newbie's bag, but with everything that had happened tonight, it just didn't seem to bother him. "Yeah, they're yours." A mischievous grin came over Perry then, to which JD couldn't help but ask what.
"Do you remember their names?"
"They have names?"
Dr. Cox had to laugh. "Coco and George, apparently. Or at least, that's what you told me you named them."
JD's face was now a fiery red, causing the older man to laugh a little more. "Don't worry about it, kid. But yeah, feel free to keep them."
"What would I do with them?"
"Oh, c'mon, Newbie. I've been in your and Milk Dud's apartment before, remember? I've seen that stuffed dog, not to mention your 'horse with a sword on his head.' I'm sure your two new friends can find someplace to make themselves comfortable."
Just a few months ago, JD would've found that mini rant insulting, but now? Maybe a little embarrassing, but that was it.
It was then that a sudden yawn escaped JD, causing him to realize how tired he really was. He looked to the clock, surprised to see that he had been there for a full two hours.
"You can spend the night here," Perry cut in after following JD's tired gaze to the clock.
"I...you sure?"
"Newbie…you just spent an entire week here. Hell, even when you weren't hypnotized, you spent the night here, remember?"
JD nodded, another yawn escaping him in the process. "Guess so…"
A mere two minutes later and Dr. Cox was back with a blanket and pillow. JD took both gratefully, stretching out on the couch with yet another yawn. "Thanks, Dr. Cox."
"No problem, kid."
"Mmm…I hope I have another car ride dream tonight."
Dr. Cox, who had, had his mouth open to say goodnight, stopped abruptly. "What was that, Newbie?"
JD, who was now already half asleep, responded drowsily. "I had a dream earlier this week. We were on a car ride and it…it had magical powers…"
Perry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He stopped, however, when he again peered down at his protégé. The image of him laying there so peacefully and carefree…he couldn't believe that he had ever once questioned that the five-year-old JD he took care of was different from when JD had really been five years old. They were so undeniably and unmistakably one in the same. "Night, Newbie," Dr. Cox whispered softly.
"Mmm…'Night, Dr. Cox."
Perry turned for his room, an air of peace around him so strong and so present; almost as if he was floating. Yes, things would go back to being a little crazy. And yes, he was still Perry Cox, but right now, he was happy. And why wouldn't he be? His whole family was safe inside of the apartment. Jordan, Jack and yes…even JD.
A/N: I can't believe this story is finished. I'm going to miss working on it, but I do have other works in the making, so let's hope that'll help fill the void. lol Anyway, guys, I had such a fun time writing this story, I really did. And once again: Thank you so much for all of your encouragement, and I really hope you enjoyed the ending to this little saga. Until next time! |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22229 | This is my new story, A Letter for My Love.
Edward goes off to war in 1918, while his betrothed, Bella, stays back. They write letters to each others, so it will be in letter form. But danger strikes anyway.
I don't own it. *cries*
I sighed deeply; I wanted Edward to return home from war now. I simply could not bear it, being here, alone in this town. It was as though I was dead with out him. Bu time passes, even for me.
I had my friends, and my mother and father, though the former were of absolutely no comfort to me. They were far too wrapped up in their 'superb' social life, whether it was beguiling the Newtons and their horrendous son who has taken to me, or having a tea with the Webbers, it was of little consequence to me.
My papa, on the other hand, was wonderful. I most definitely took after him. He longed not for the posh society, bit for simplicity. It was at my mother's request we came here, he lived to make my mother and I happy. I would happily leave it all in a moment, particularly if my love, Edward was next to me, by my side, as he promised, not fighting in some silly war which does not involve him.
I shall write him a letter.
I got up from my garden seat from where I watched our manservant Jacob toil in his daily duties. I went to my vanity, where I took out a pen, paper, and ink.
"My dearest Edward," I wrote,
It pains me that you are far away where I can not feel strong arms around me, see your dazzling smile, hear your sweet whisper in my ear, whispering mellifluous words of our love, pure and sweet. I wish you were here; I shall not hide my feelings.
I pray you are safe, I wonder privately to myself if you are unhurt. I beg of you to come back safely; take every possible precaution, my love, so as to come back to me whole and unscathed.
When you return, we shall make wedding arrangements. My papa is bursting at his seams with happiness. And my mother, well, you know her. She has been boasting to all of her ridiculous friends that her daughter is marrying Edward Masen, the son of Chicago's most prominent lawyer.
May she and all her friends choke on their lukewarm tea and stale biscuits and cakes them seem to so love.
My love, I long for you to be by my side, with me in this tedious time of war. You would dull the pain and ease my mind. I know not why we must be involved in a war, it seems silly to me. To war on another country simply for boredom seems wrong and unfair.
To war for any reason seems to be excessively iniquitous. What of the young men who are killed? What of their families? What of the widows, the mothers, the sisters, the brothers? It seems to me that war especially plagues the women in a country.
But I shall no longer waste your precious time on this war, my opinions matter not.
I pray for your safe, timely return.
I love you, forever and always.
With all of my heart, body and soul,
Your Bella. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22230 | All was dark in the Yoshikawa home. Most of the house's residents were asleep. Chiaki, and Fuyuno, were both soundly dreaming in their rooms, Maika tossed and turned every so often, sometimes happily purring in her sleep, other times growling with jealousy and twisting her sheets until they began to tear, and Rika was lying so still in bed that any normal person might have thought she was dead, (or at least turned off.) There was only one female in the house who was still awake, though it was not by her choice. Ayumi Mamiya had found it impossible to fall sleep that night. She just couldn't seem to get her brain to shut down. She sighed and turned over in her bed again, this time facing out towards her window. The moonlight pored through the tall pains of glass and spilled out over the floor of her room.
My room?
No, this wasn't her room. Her room was back in the magical world. Her room was enormous and extravagantly decorated, with a huge bed and beautiful portraits of enchanted landscapes and magical creatures, not dull white walls and small bed that doubled as a dresser. …So why had it felt so familiar as soon as she'd seen it? Why did she feel so happy when she had first seen Haruo Yoshikawa? After all he was so wimpy! Not her kind of man at all.
Upon arriving in the human world she had decided that she would just seduce him, have him lift her curse, and get on with her life. But once she saw him she immediately began feeling herself being pulled in two directions. Part of her had wanted to run away in disgust at being fated to such a wimpy looking looser, and yet another part of her had wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go again.
In the end she decided to compromise and mealy allow him to approach her. He was obviously smitten with her from the get go, what man wouldn't be? His kind dark eyes and handsome face told her that he was enchanted with her beauty. At least that's what she had thought until he politely asked her why she was starring at him.
That had earned him a sharp slap across the face before she stomped away with her nose in the air, (not to mention a pink tint on her cheeks.) It was only after she had cooled off three blocks away that she realized that she may not have left the best first impression on him.
Was that really the first time we met?
Ayumi shook her head and closed her eyes tightly. She needed to sleep, she had to be ready incase one of her rivals tried to make a move on Haruo again.
He always seemed so familiar, almost… safe.
She opened her eyes and let out a sigh of defeat. It was useless. She was wide awake and her mind wanted to tell her something. Or was it her mind?
Maybe it was something else… something she thought she had locked away for good after her mother died...
Her eyes flitted over to her bed side table and fell upon a very small stuffed cat. She stared longingly at it for a moment before finally reaching out and picking it up. She held the cat tenderly, her thumb gently playing with the small bell around its neck. She gave a small smile when her thumb flicked the bell just hard enough to make it ring. She hadn't had any kind of stuffed animal to play with since He-Bunny, the pink rabbit she used to carry around with her when she was young…
She frowned and put the cat back on the table. She was too old to be playing with stuffed animals. She should be thinking about how she was going to get Haruo to awaken as a man and break her curse so she could leave this stupid human world and go back home.
She looked around the room again. Then back at the cat. It had been almost a year since she had moved into this room. Several months ago since Rika had moved in with them as a second maid. Some weeks since they had put on the play for the cultural fair, which to everyone's amazement went off with out a hitch (if you didn't count Ayumi using her magic to change the cut out pumpkin into a hoarse drawn carriage in front of the entire school.) And it had only been three days, three agonizingly long days, since Christmas Eve, and Haruo's surprise party.
She picked up the cat again and turned it over in her hands, scrutinizing every centimeter.
Why? Why get me a stupid stuffed cat? He got everyone else those dam bracelets!
She stared at the cat a while longer, before she realize she was very close to crying, and quickly shut her eyes. What was going on? Why was she getting so sentimental over some stupid fucking cat doll? Her mind was racing as emotions she had buried long ago begin to surface. She clutched the doll to her chest. That helped a little, but it wasn't enough. The tears were still building in her safire blue eyes and she shut them tighter.
Why am I the one who's special?
Her eyes opened in shock. Tears started to fall down her face and her she began to loose control of her breathing, but she didn't notice.
Why did I think that? Of course I'm the one who's special! I'm Ayumi Mamiya! I'm God's gift to man! I'm the most beautiful and sexy girl he's ever laid eye's on! I'm… i'm…
Her ego drew blank in its defense as she thought about how she had fought with the other girls for his attention. How she was just using him as a tool to get what she wanted. How she was trying to take him away from people who carried about him in ways no one would ever care about her…
I'm a complete and utter bitch…
She gave in to the tears, sobbing for what seemed like hours and clutching the tinny cat doll to her chest as tightly as her trembling hands could hold it. She realized how much she hated, and loved that tinny doll, just as much as she hated and loved the man who had given it to her. The tinny cat was the single most important thing anyone had ever given her. It had been given to the real Ayumi Mamiya. Not to the sexy school girl she pretended to be or the greedy aristocrat she had been raised as. It had been given to a little girl she thought had died long ago. A girl who wanted more than anything to marry a goofy boy she had seen in a cursed mirror so he could give her a big kiss and tell her she was the most important person in the whole wide world to him and then live happily ever after like in the story books.
She eventually cried herself to sleep. Just before she slipped out of consciousness, she managed to whisper a small prayer to who ever would listen.
"Please. Please, let me have one more chance. I promise I'll do it right this time. I don't care about the curse anymore. I don't care about my family name. I don't care if I have to be a maid for the rest of my life. Just please, please let it not be too late for me to change…"
As he body slowly relaxed the cat doll shifter slightly in her hands. Not by much, just enough for the bell around its neck to give a small *tink.* |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22232 | Charlie welcomes her home with more emotion than Bella expected. He grips her shoulders tight, pressing her against his chest – as if hugging her close will prevent her from ever leaving again. "How was your trip?" he asks, voice gruff.
Bella's lips almost reach a smile. "It was really good, Dad. Really," she repeats, wanting him to understand everything she cannot say. "I even went camping. It wasn't that bad."
He laughs, moving to clap Mike on the shoulder. "Never thought I'd see the day."
Mike gives a cheery smile and a wave, eyebrows knitting slightly when he looks to Bella. "Well, I should probably go grovel. My mom's going to murder me," he says. Bella holds her fingers up in a half-wave. "Call me, Bella. We'll hang out." His voice is cheery, as if he hadn't helped her run away from her own wedding three weeks ago.
God. Her wedding.
Bella feels like retching into the bushes again, but settles for pressing her lips into a firm line. She gives Mike a nod, and he leaves without further comment. Bella knows he's used to her by now. She shoulders her backpack, full of thrift store finds, and turns towards the house. She lets out a huge breath she didn't realize she was holding. She glances to the side, looking at Charlie. He's standing there staring at her.
"Yeah, dad?" she asks. She braces herself, but she's not sure what's coming.
Charlie just shakes his head, as if he were clearing thoughts from his hair. "Well, come on in Bells. I want to hear all about it." He takes her bag, holding the door open for her to follow behind. Bella feels like she's been punched. She knows he's asking about the trip, but she can't remember the last time she really told Charlie anything of substance. Even before she moved to Forks, she was glossing things over on the phone with a father she saw only a few times a year. It was always her mom that she'd talked to – her mom had been her rock, even when Bella had to do grown-up things like scheduling appointments and making dinner. Renee, somehow, had understood when Bella fretted over her lack of friends at school or her clumsy mistakes in dance class. She'd always felt awkward with Charlie, felt as if he were on the other side, an opponent – as if she and Renee were a team unto themselves. It's unsettling to realize that Renee had left her a virtual stranger to her father and worse to feel, just now, as if she should care.
She follows Charlie into the house, taking a seat at the kitchen table curling her shoes around the legs. "Dad, can I ask you something? I mean, it's really personal…"she starts, but trails off.
He sets her bag by the sofa and goes over to the fridge to grab a beer. "Sure, Bells." He looks wary and Bella can't fault him. She can't think of the last time she asked him a serious question.
"Why did you and Mom split up? I mean, I know she wanted to leave Forks. But," Bella pauses and begins to drum her fingers on the table. "I know there's more to it than that. I just – I'd like to know."
Charlie sighs as if all the air was escaping his body. "You mom, she uh, she didn't tell you?" His face is grim and Bella feels guilty for dredging up bad memories. He's never dated. She's always assumed he was still in love with Renee.
Bella shakes her head. "No. She always said she wanted to leave Forks." She can understand that, somewhat – but she doesn't understand the neverending production of moving, of never having a place, that was the cornerstone of Bella's childhood. Even when she was small, Renee never came back to Forks. Bella rode the plane by herself.
"It's complicated," Charlie begins, cradling the beer can between both hands. "I still don't – I don't think it was Forks. I think it was me." He takes a deep swig of beer and Bella bites her lip, twisting her shoes even tighter around the chair legs to the point of pain. She wants to throw out her hands and tell him to stop, wants to stop being the type of person who only causes pain.
"We met the Summer after she finished high school. I thought she was amazing," he says, voice hoarse on the last word. He clears his throat, taking another drink. "It was – very quick. I thought she was brilliant, really. She was so alive, so full of plans. And then she got pregnant, with you."
Bella swallows convulsively, mouth dry. It takes a few tries to force words through her lips. "I was a mistake?"
"No," Charlie barks, more force in his voice than Bella has ever heard. "Not to me, Bells. Never to me." He sighs again. "We got married. That was probably my first mistake. Did it to please her parents. I wanted to, though – don't doubt that. It wasn't because it was the right thing. It was because she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen." His face is almost wistful at this point, and Bella fights to keep her mouth from opening in surprise. For all that Renee has never said a bad word about Charlie, she always gave Bella the impression of coldness. Bella thought their marriage youthful folly, at least not on Charlie's part. Renee was the one to be carried away by emotion. She thought she had something different with Edward.
"It was good, at first. I thought I could make her happy. But, she wasn't happy when I took a job with the force and she fought with her parents all the time. Liked to push their buttons."
"Grandma and Grandpa?" Bella asks, voice small. She'd never met them, assumed they were dead, the way Renee spoke.
"They passed away when you were ten, Bells," Charlie says, voice gentle. "They had a falling out with Renee about six months after you were born. Renee was like a force of nature, too big for anyone. I thought that I was doing the right thing, getting a job, providing for you both. It was good for a while. I do think she was happy, when you were born."
Bella thinks he's trying to convince himself. She feels like she's going to be sick.
"You were – you were amazing, Bella. The happiest day of my life was the day you were born," he says, and this time, Bella can see Charlie's honest. "But Renee wasn't happy. She wanted adventure. She wanted a bigger purpose than living with me. It wasn't Forks, Bella. It was me. I wasn't enough for her. She wanted things I never could give her."
He takes another swig of beer to cover the crack in his voice. "We fought about it for a long time. It was never actually something. If she'd just have given me something, some clue, some hint on what she actually wanted, I would have done anything to give it to her. Because I was in love with her, but I was just some Summer fling she was shackled to." His voice is bitter, and Bella grips the edge of the kitchen table, knuckles white. "So she left. Came home one day, and you were gone."
"Oh, Dad," Bella says, voice soft.
"Took off to California and left me a note. I got the divorce papers in the mail a few weeks later. I still don't – I still don't know what she was looking for."
"I don't know if she does either," Bella mutters.
"I guess I should have fought for you, Bells. Should have tried harder. But I – I don't know what I'm doing, Bells. You can tell," he says, with a shrug, looking down at his empty beer. "But I'm trying. And I don't want you making the mistakes we did."
Bella untangles herself from the chair and crosses the kitchen to put her arms around him. "I'm trying, Dad."
He pats her on the back a few times. "I'm glad you came to Forks, Bella."
It takes her a moment, but Bella responds truthfully, "I am too, Dad." Even if her life implodes spectacularly after this, in this moment, it's true. She missed having a Dad – having to settle for awkward phone conversations about science fair projects, and gloomy Summer vacations that left her tense and feeling like a stranger with him.
"I should probably unpack, Dad," she says softly, moving to grab her bag. Charlie nods, moving to grab another beer from the fridge. She feels like she should give him a few minutes alone to collect himself. She'll come back to fix dinner in a bit.
She trudges up the stairs, feeling drained. Bella knows she isn't an awful person, but she feels like, perhaps, she's a selfish one. She feels guilty for asking Charlie about Renee, feels guilty over a thousand things, if she were honest with herself. She wonders if she's any better than Renee, focused entirely on herself and her happiness. Bella knows she's being unfair to Renee, but all the little hurts from childhood have bubbled to the surface, and she wonders now what it would have been like to live with Charlie, rather than the production that was Renee. Bella knows her mother loves her, doesn't doubt that in the least. Still, a small part of her heart had always wished Renee had fought for her, insisted she stay – loved Bella more than Phil. She thinks of Charlie wishing he had fought, of Renee letting her go…of Edward abandoning her in the woods. She'd like to know why it's so easy to let her go.
She opens the door to her bedroom and Edward is standing there, the window flung open. Bella sighs and points to it. "Please just go, Edward."
It's her turn to do some abandoning. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22233 | The Accused by kellyA
Copyright @Sep1999 []
It was mid morning, the refreshing Spring air invigorating the entire town of Four Corners awakening it from its long winter hibernation. Chris, Vin and Josiah having just returned from their appointed duties were now enjoying a breakfast of steak and eggs in the saloon. Buck and JD entered in the midst of one of their frequent verbal tug-o-wars. Nathan followed behind shaking his head, wanting nothing more than to get into an intelligent conversation with Josiah or even Ezra, after having to listen to JD and Buck's petty bickering all morning. Ezra walked down the staircase, straightening out his jacket, having just woke up after spending half the night playing poker and the other half completing his prescribed duties. Buck snatched a biscuit off of Chris' plate as he passed by and sat down at an adjoining table.
Everyone's attention was suddenly diverted as Judge Travis entered, followed closely by a tall, wide shoulder man with black hair which was graying at the temples. The hair was cut short and neat accentuating his strong, square jaw. His eyes were dark and intelligent, but carried a glint that didn't quite match the wide grin on his face. An aura of confidence surrounded him, trying to be believed. A younger man ensued behind him. He was a slightly leaner version of the older man, but lacked the rigid demeanor. The Judge flashed a huge grin on his weathered face as he stopped in front of the table where Chris, Vin and Josiah sat. From another table, Buck, JD, Nathan and Ezra turned their attention to the three men. The Judge placed his hand on the big man's shoulder as he stepped up to his right. The Judge's cheerful disposition was forcing smiles to appear on everyone's face. Chris had never seen the Judge looking so happy. There was a lighthearted glint in the elder man's eyes as he looked at the young man to his left, something Chris couldn't remember ever seeing in the austere magistrate.
"Gentlemen," the Judge's voice boomed good naturedly getting the seven lawmen's attention. "I'd like to introduce Major Jacob Quist and his son Orrin. The Major has only just retired from the army even though I believe he is far to young," the Judge chuckled.
"Ah, Orrin you think anyone younger than you should still be at their mother's tit," Jacob laughed, slapping the older man on the back. Then he noticed the amused looks from the seven men. "Oh, they didn't know your first name did they, Orrin?" A mischievous grin appeared on Jacob Quist's clean-shaven face. Judge Travis shook his head, knowing his old friend was about to embarrass him in front of his new friends. Jacob turned his huge smile towards the men. "Yep, my son is named after the esteemed Judge here, he's his god-father." The young man bowed his head sheepishly. His matching clean-shaven face becoming slightly flushed at the attention now directed towards him.
"Don't any of you get any ideas, it's still Judge to you," Judge Travis pleasantly reminded the seven men.
"Boys! do I have some stories to tell you," Jacob teased, causing the Judge to groan. Buck grinned in anticipation of any stories, especially about the Judge. He knew the man couldn't have always been so stuffy.
Jacob Quist placed a fatherly hand on his son's shoulder, which stood even with his own. "And in two weeks my son will follow in his old man's footstep and join the Army."
The Judge decided to introduce the seven men, before Jacob started revealing any embarrassing family secrets. "Well, Jacob, Orrin, I'd like to introduce Chris Larabee the unofficial leader of this motley crew."
Chris nodded his blond head almost imperceptibly. "Chris, I've told the Major about you and your men and the outstanding job you all have done here and he's very impressed." The Judge continued his introductions. "Vin Tanner is the team's sharpshooter and tracker, Josiah Sanchez is their spiritual leader and a crack shot, Nathan Jackson is a superb Healer and very adept with knives in both the medical sense as well as defense." Nathan felt his face flush at the compliment directed towards him. "Mr. Dunne is the Sheriff, Buck Wilmington is, ah..well, he's a good shot."
"Hey Judge he's got animal magnetism too," JD yelled out. Buck swatted at the young gunslinger, who dodged the friendly swiped with practiced ease.
The Judge's grin grew wider and he continued, bringing his gaze to bear on the fancy dressed gentleman sitting next to Buck. "Ezra Standish is also a crack shot and con man."
Ezra nodded his head noticing the slight disgust in the Major's eyes. "Why Judge, you almost sounded proud," Ezra drawled, a faintly amused smile coming to his handsome face. "Also the resident smart-mouth," the Judge added with a grin, taking Standish's remarks in the spirit they were given.
"And don't forget snazzy dresser," Buck cut in, receiving a deadly scowl from the put upon gambler.
The Major was very impressed with the unique individuals who made up the law in the fast growing town, except for Ezra Standish. He had no love for con men, remembering how his own parents were swindled out of their home by a fast talking, self-indulgent swindler. He pushed the thoughts aside, if his long time friend trusted the conman enough to hire him that was good enough for him, at least for now.
Josiah stood up first and extended his hand. "It is an honor to meet you Major Quist." Jacob took hold of Josiah's huge hand.
"Just call me Major, everyone does."
The rest of the men in turn extended their hands to the two men.
Jacob turned his attention to his son. "Well boy, what do you think of the west? This is Orrin's first time out west. He was raised by his mother back east," Orrin's father explained.
"It's wonderful father."
Everyone smiled at the familiar excitement in the young man's voice. Several pairs of eyes glanced over to JD who still held much of that same enthusiasm.
"So what besides our esteemed Judge brings you to our quaint little backwater town?" Ezra asked, his green eyes coming up to meet the Major's.
The Major's son answered, "Well, father wanted to spend some quality time together before I went into the service and I hadn't seen Uncle Travis since I was ten." Judge Travis gave his godson a warm smile and squeezed his shoulders. Since his own son was killed he relished the time with the young man. "I just wanted to get a taste of civilian life in the west before my hitch started."
"I commend you on your militant endeavor, young man," Ezra toasted, holding up a shot of whiskey then tossing it back. The rest of the men followed suit.
"Hey Judge how long you and the Major known each other?" Buck asked wiping the beer from his mustache.
"We've know each other for over thirty years, served together in the Army," Judge Travis replied then turned towards Jacob. "But it's been what? over five years since we've seen each other last, we have a lot of catching up to do, Jacob."
"Well, I hope we can get caught up over some lunch Judge, me and Orrin here are starved," Jacob Quist said.
"We have a pretty fine restaurant, so if you gentlemen will excuse us we have a lot to talk about," Judge Travis cheerfully remarked as he ushered the two men out. Chris leaned back in his chair, it was good to see the Judge happy, reunited with family. Chris wondered if he would ever have that feeling again in his life. He looked over at the six men he worked with and smiled.
Over the next couple days Josiah, JD and Buck showed the Major and his son around town while the others continued with their law enforcement duties. JD and Orrin hit it right off, since they both had been schooled in the east. They constantly tried to impress each other with their many adolescent escapades, but were both outdone when Buck regaled them with his many sultry tales, some of which ended with him escaping out a window as an angry father or husband shot at him.
One pleasant mid afternoon the Major entered the small, jailhouse seeking out Chris Larabee. He found the tall, dark-clad gunslinger leaning back in a chair watching over the only prisoner at the moment. Jacob had been thinking about his future. He was no longer in the Army; his son was leaving soon. He found himself at a crossroads wondering what was he going to do with himself. He was use to action and a certain amount of regiment and control. He could never get use to a sedentary life that the Judge was pushing. The Judge had told him all about the work that the seven gunslingers had done and how they continued to protect the town and surrounding areas. He also told Jacob that the people of Four Corners were only willing to pay for seven men and no more.
"Mind if I have a cup of coffee?" Major Quist asked.
"Help yourself," Chris answered coming forward in his chair.
The Major stepped over to the coffeepot pouring himself a cup. He took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste.
"Oh, should've warned you, JD made it." Chris smiled.
The Major grinned then grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it up to the desk.
"Mr. Larabee, I have to tell you I'm very impressed with your men." He paused. "Now don't get offended with what I'm about to say. I'm sure they all have proved themselves immeasurably, but a couple things I'm curious about. Like, why Mr. Standish? Why hire a conman?" The Major took another sip of the awful coffee then put the cup down and pushed it aside.
"Ezra's a good man," Chris stated matter-of-factly. Most people didn't like the conman at first. He made a lousy first impression and his smart mouth usually got him in all kinds of trouble. Chris' eyes narrowed not liking the path this conversation was taking.
"I understand that Vin Tanner is a wanted man?" Jacob added.
"Misunderstanding," Chris replied, this was the only thing he was willing to say about his friend.
"And isn't JD a little young to be sheriff?" Jacob continued.
Chris didn't answer and only glared at the inquiring Major. He was starting to get annoyed, friend or no friend, where did this guy get off poking his nose into their business. Chris decided he'd better have a talk with the Judge later.
The Major could tell that Larabee was getting slightly irked by his questions. "Listen, I didn't mean to offend. You have to understand I'm ex-military and not use to such a mix bag of men. In the army we're all cut from the same cloth, you know." The Major laughed trying to lighten the mood. A small forced smile creased Larabee's mouth. "Well, I just want you to know that if you all need any help I'm your man." The Major smiled and quickly left leaving a slightly bewildered gunslinger in his wake.
During the rest of the week the Major continued to regale the men with his heroic campaigns. Nathan, Vin and Josiah listened out of respect to the Judge. Chris occasionally listened to the Major's stories in the saloon, but was not one to favor boasting. At times it seemed like the Major demanded to be believed or needed to be. Buck and JD were genuinely enthralled, and Ezra as always could care less. Chris was just grateful the sometimes-audacious gunslinger saw fit to keep his mouth shut.
Ezra sat at his usual table in the saloon having just finished educating several young men in the finer points of poker and losing. Vin plopped down in the chair across from him removing his hat and running his hand through his now tangled mass of long brown hair.
"Mr. Tanner, how are we this fine day and why aren't you reveling in Major Quist's many valorous accounts."
Vin gave the educated man a quizzical look until he figured out what he had said. "What's that polite word you use when callin' someone an A**hole?"
Ezra arched a sandy brown eyebrow and smiled. "Pompous?"
"That's the one." Vin stretched out his long lean legs under the table. It was still early and the saloon was quiet except for the sound of clanking glasses behind the bar as the bartender readied for the night's business.
"I gather you are not impressed with our gallant Major?" Ezra placed his cards on the table and picked up the shot of whiskey he had been nursing all afternoon.
"Hell Ezra, he's impressed enough with himself he don't need anyone else." This garnered a smile from both men. Vin leaned farther back in the chair. "I don't know? I know he's the Judge's friend and all, but they haven't seen each other in quite a few years, a lot can change. There's just somethin' about him, can't quite put my finger on it," Vin tried to explain without much success. He shrugged and poured himself a drink.
***** Part 2
Judge Travis, Major Quist and his son approached Chris who they found leaning back in a chair outside the saloon enjoying the early morning peace and quiet. He had seen the three coming towards him after leaving the telegraph office. Chris remembered he hadn't talked to the Judge yet about Jacob. He wasn't sure, but he had felt that Major Quist was trying to probe him for information.
"Chris, we just got word that the Morales' gang is holed up just south of here," the Judge stated waving a telegram. "The territorial governor wants them brought in."
"Could you use some extra guns, Mr. Larabee?" Major Quist eagerly inquired.
Chris looked over at the Major and Orrin, he knew the Major was experienced and he thought Orrin was quite capable. But he really didn't want them along. He had enough to worry about with his own men.
"Jacob, I don't think it would be a good idea," the Judge answered.
"Now Orrin, it will be good experience for young Orrin," Jacob countered. "I promise we'll do exactly as Mr. Larabee orders and we won't put ourselves in any unnecessary danger. Anyway it's been awhile since I've seen any action."
"C'mon Uncle Travis this is the reason I joined the Army," young Orrin pleaded.
Chris could see the Judge's resolve wan then break.
"Okay, but just remember Jacob, Larabee's in charge," Judge Travis reiterated, trying to force a smile for his old friend and godson.
Chris' eyes narrowed, no he didn't like this one bit. He got the feeling that the Major wanted or needed to prove something to himself, to others, or to his son? He kept the thought to himself, something he'd later regret.
It didn't take long to get everyone together. It had been quiet for too long and everyone was itching for some excitement, even Ezra, who hadn't had any challenging poker chumps in over two weeks, was anxious for some diversion from the norm.
Vin tracked the gang to a small rocky outcropping the sun was already dropping from its zenith. They knew the outlaws had dug themselves in, hiding amongst the cracks and crevices which covered the mountainside. Scrub trees and bushes dotted the mountainside and surrounding area.
"Alright, JD, Josiah, Ezra, you take the right, we'll take the left and meet on the other side. Hopefully squeeze them between us," Chris explained as they all dismounted securing their horses to the low scrub trees. Major Quist grabbed Chris' arm. Buck drew in an audible breath when he saw this. He saw the look in Chris' eyes that caused the Major to quickly release his hold, but he didn't back down.
"What about me and my son, Mr. Larabee?" Jacob asked.
"I would prefer if you and your son stay behind. Me and my men can handle this alone, Major," Chris coldly answered.
"Now, I know I told the Judge I'd follow your orders, but I will not be left behind like some green horn." The Major's dark eyes seemed to grow a shade darker with his growing anger.
"Father," Orrin quietly murmured. He didn't want to cause any trouble even though he didn't want to be left behind either.
"Quiet, boy," Jacob continued, his eyes remained locked on Larabee's cold stare. Josiah smiled faintly. It looked like Chris had met someone as stubborn and determined as himself, well outside of the six men he already worked with.
Chris relented, figuring the Major would do whatever he wanted with or without his permission. It would be better to keep him close so they could keep an eye on him. "Okay go with Ezra."
The Major smiled in triumphant, but it was a smile that sent a chill down Chris' spine and wiped the smile from Josiah's face.
Ezra, Major Quist, JD, Orrin and Josiah crept along in single file several feet from the base of the outcropping, trying to move in closer. Suddenly gun fire caused them to grab cover.
"I believe we have discovered some of the miscreants," Ezra stated as he returned fire unable to get a clear shot.
Josiah crawled over next to Ezra. "Ezra, if you give JD and me some cover fire we'll try and come up behind them," Josiah suggested.
Ezra nodded agreement, he only hoped the Major was as good a shot as he bragged.. Ezra reloaded his guns then nodded for the two men to go. Ezra, Orrin and Jacob released a barrage of bullets enabling JD and Josiah to reach the safety of the nearby rocks and disappear. Ezra let out a breath when his two friends reached safety and now concentrated on protecting the Major, his son and his own neck. Ezra looked towards the Major who was on his right and noticed his hands shaking as he tried to reload his gun. A line of sweat had formed on Jacob's upper lip and his left eye twitched. He didn't seem to notice Ezra scrutinizing him. Before Ezra could address this behavior the gunfire intensified and the three found themselves pinned down in a crossfire. Bullets ricocheted about them, chipping at the rocks they had taken cover behind. Ezra swore, unable to do much more than keep his head down and get off an occasionally shot. He took a moment to look over to his left glad that Orrin was also keeping his head down. He glanced back over to his right to see the Major sitting with his back against the rock trying to make himself as small as possible. He was holding his gun loosely and shaking, his eyes looking off to some distant spot, that Ezra could not discern.
"Major, are you injured?" Ezra asked, his brow furrowed in bewilderment at the way the Major was now acting.
Major Quist didn't acknowledge hearing the southerner. Ezra grabbed his shoulder breaking him from his self-induced trance. The Major looked up at Ezra, his eyes causing the gambler to back up slightly. What he saw was cold hard, unreasoning fear in those dark eyes. Ezra ducked down as a bullet whizzed by his head.
"We have to get out of here! We're outnumbered this is suicide," Major Quist suddenly yelled out. Ezra could hear the fear, which was riding on panic in the Major's voice.
Ezra's attention was diverted by another shot that caused rock shreds to strike his face bringing a line of blood across his forehead. No one, including the Major, would ever understand why he chose that moment to run. Ezra tried to stop him, but was forced to take cover as the gunfire once again intensified. Orrin didn't know what was going on. He turned to see his father running away. He yelled fearing for his father's life and broke cover. Ezra leaped at his legs trying to stop the young man, he watched helplessly as Orrin was gunned down in front of him. Ezra screamed out and began firing with a vengeance trying to find a target to accept his anger. He didn't feel the bullet that glanced off his skull or feel himself hit the ground.
The gunfire finally ceased, as Chris and the others had finally caused the outlaws to retreat.
The Major came out of his hiding place, having wedged himself into a nearby crevice covering his ears and closing his eyes, trying to ignore what was happening around him. His whole body shook. His gun hung limply in his hand he felt so detached, numb. Then reality came crashing down upon him as he looked at his son and Standish laying motionless in the dirt. He stumbled to his son and slowly turned him over. He was still alive, but he saw that the bullet had found its mark, piercing close to the boy's heart.
Jacob lifted his son into his arms, tears streaking paths through his dirt covered face.
"Orrin?" He said in a low voice choking back the sob. The young man's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at his father with the same dark brown eyes, his brow furrowed.
"Why, father? why did you run?" The statement was like a slap in the face to the Major, he couldn't reply, and his son wouldn't of heard if he had. Tears ran down his face as he cradled his son close rocking back and forth. The words circling around in his brain. 'why did you run?'
Major Quist took a deep breath trying to calm his trembling body. He gently lowered his son to the ground placing his hand over his unseeing eyes forcing them closed. Determination now clouded the Major's once panic-stricken visage. His jaw clenched as he looked over at Ezra, who hadn't moved, the only man who now knew his secret shame. He couldn't control what was happening to him and he wouldn't accept it. But he was determined to let no one discover the truth. Insanity flashed in the Major's eyes, 'I can't have you tellin' people I'm a coward,' he quietly voiced to the unhearing gambler.
The Major grabbed Ezra's feet and dragged his limp body away hiding it in the same crevice he had taken refuge in. He then placed brush over it and wiped out the tracks. He picked up his son's body and went to find the others.
Nathan was attending to Buck who had been shot in the shoulder and was giving the healer as hard a time as Ezra usually did. Everyone turned, drawing their weapons, as the Major appeared carrying his son. Josiah moved forward to help him, Nathan rushed over, but slowed when he saw there was nothing he could do.
"I'm sorry Jacob," Josiah tried to soothe. The Major appeared to be in shock. His jaw clenched his eyes staring straight ahead.
"Major, have you seen Ezra?" Chris asked, suddenly very worried for the knavish conman, something wasn't right.
The Major's face darkened. "That son of a bitch got my son killed."
"What are you sayin'?" Josiah asked thinking that the Major was just overly distraught over his son's death and wasn't thinking straight.
"He ran! We were caught in a crossfire and he ran. My son and I were over run. I barely escaped with my life, but Orrin..." he choked backed the tears as he looked down at the lifeless body he held.
The six lawmen stood dumbfounded. Josiah came over carefully taking the body from Jacob's grasp.
"I don't believe it," JD was the first to voice, but it came out attached to a certain amount of doubt.
"You callin' me a liar, boy!" Jacob yelled stepping towards the young Sheriff his dark eyes causing JD to step back.
"Easy, Major," Chris warned. His head was spinning at the accusation. He knew he still didn't have Ezra figured out completely, but he had felt confident the man would not run. Chris didn't think he had any doubt left about that, but with the Major's allegation, doubt seemed to creep back into his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Josiah also tried to keep his mind from stirring up those thoughts, and so did everyone else, but it was a losing battle.
"We need to find him," Chris stated, breaking everyone out of their personal speculations. Josiah had laid Orrin down and thrown a blanket over him saying a silent prayer for the brave young man.
JD, Vin, Chris, and Josiah searched for an hour finding no trace of their missing friend, strengthening the Major's accusation. They finally decided to return to Four Corners. Buck needed more medical attention and Orrin had to be taken care of proper. As they mounted their horses JD took hold of Ezra's horse.
"Leave him," Chris voiced dryly. JD dropped the reins.
It was a quiet ride back everyone lost in their own thoughts and torments. One simultaneous thought ran through the six gunslinger's minds. "Would he run?" Everyone felt the gut-wrenching twist of betrayal, the only way they could survive was to trust one another. Had Ezra violated that trust? And did it lead to the death of an innocent? These were questions everyone was afraid to answer.
*****Part 3
Ezra woke to find himself cramped and cold. He lifted a wary gaze to the surrounding darkness. He tried to stretch, but rock, sand and bits of stone rained down on his head as he shifted in the cramp space. He had no idea where he was or how he got here. He brought his hand up and hissed as he touched the wound on his head. His face and hair was covered in dried blood. He looked around, but couldn't remember what had happened. How had he ended up in this abominable condition? He slowly worked his way out of the crevice. He heard a horse snicker and made his way over to it. He had to rest every couple steps as waves of dizziness washed over him. He recognized the chestnut stallion as his own and smiled, stroking the soft nose. He wondered where the others were? Why would they leave him in such a state? Fear gripped him at the thought that the others were dead or badly hurt, but he noticed that all the other horses were gone. He pulled the canteen off his saddle and took a long hard drawl.
Judge Travis watched from outside the Clarion News office as the slow moving procession of men rode down the street. Their shadows long in the waning sunlight. He saw the covered body draped over the last horse and knew. His heart broke again, the same feeling as when his own son was killed enveloped him. He went up to the horse placing his hand on the cooling body, tears ran freely down his suddenly aged face. He looked up into the dejected countenance of Chris Larabee. This man had trusted him to protect his godson and he had failed him, Chris thought to himself. All the men looked tired and beaten. Mary came up next to her father, he heard her intake of breath as she realized who it was. Judge Travis placed an arm around her convulsing shoulders as sobs shook her and gently led her away.
Ezra rode into town early that morning still totally bewildered. His head swam and he felt as if he would black out. He was barely able to stay in the saddle. He heard shouts, but didn't pay much attention until he felt hands pull him from his horse. "That's the coward that got the Major's son killed!" 'What? what was that about the Major's son?' He thought only half coherently, but these thoughts were painfully interrupted by a kick to his ribs. Ezra curled up as punches and kicks landed on his already aching body.
A booted foot struck his head sending an enormous bolt of pain through his skull, which sent him into blissful oblivion.
Chris, Josiah and Vin raced over pulling the enraged mob off the now unconscious gambler. Josiah picked up the battered and bleeding man.
"Take him to the jail," Chris directed. Josiah and Vin both looked up at Chris.
"He'll be safer there," Chris quietly explained. Josiah carried his unconscious friend to the jail as Chris went to find Nathan. Now the question, why did he come back? Did he think Chris would give him another chance?
Nathan stood up from the cot after bandaging the southerner's head and ribs. He didn't want to believe that Ezra ran, but he kept seeing young Orrin's body and the anguish on the Major's face. "How is he Nate?" Chris asked as Nathan exited the cell where Ezra now slept. Chris closed the door locking it.
"He was grazed by a bullet across the temple and has a concussion, that kick to the head didn't help any," Nathan explained. Chris listened with a deepening frown.
Everyone turned to the groan from the cell. Ezra brought his hands up to his head feeling the bandage. He slowly opened his eyes taking a moment to focus. His vision cleared, but what he saw made little sense to his muttered brain. He was lying in the town jail, for what ever reason, he couldn't fathom at the moment. He slowly sat up putting his head into his hands, he hissed as a sharp pain lanced through his skull almost bringing tears to his eyes. Ezra looked up seeing Nathan and Chris at the bars the rest of the men behind them, refusing to look at him. He furrowed his brow and frowned, what the hell was going on?
"Ezra, how you feelin'?" Nathan finally asked. Ezra didn't hear the usual concern in the dark-healer's voice.
He glanced apprehensively at everyone, lowering his head, before answering. "Like my head is about to split in two. I don't suppose I could impose on you Mr. Jackson for something to relieve my headache." This was the first time that Ezra ever had to ask for pain relief; usually he had to fight off Mr. Jackson's attempts to shove it down his throat.
Chris caught the look of disgust on Nathan's dark face before he walked out, not saying a word.
Chris continued to stand in front of the bars regarding the dazed conman intently. Ezra brought his jade-green eyes up to meet Chris' icy blue stare. The others continued to stay in the background, wearing very disturbing expressions. He noticed that Buck was missing and his gut twisted into a knot. What was going on? Why couldn't he remember?
"Ah, Mr. Larabee, why was I left out in the desert and why am I in jail?" Ezra finally decided to ask, since it didn't appear that anyone else was going to enlighten him.
Chris looked sternly at the rumpled looking con man trying to decide if he really was as confused as he appeared. Lord, he didn't want to believe this man ran. Him and Ezra had their differences, but things were getting better. Maybe Chris had been expecting too much, how could someone change a lifetime of habits in a few months?
"We couldn't find you, Buck was injured..." Chris began.
"Is he okay?" Ezra's asked, quickly standing up and just as quickly regretting the activity as pain shot out from behind his eyes. He grabbed hold of the bars to steady himself.
"Yeah, he's fine," Chris worriedly assured him.
Ezra leaned back against the wall letting out a slow breath. "So why am I in this cell?"
"It's for your own protection," Chris told him.
Damn, this could take all day. Larabee was not one to give information freely, but then neither was he. Ezra smiled at this, but cut it short as his head throbbed. Then he remembered the mob that had attacked him.
"Why was I so brutally attacked?"
Chris' eyes broke away from Ezra's questioning glare. "Orrin Quist is dead!" Chris bluntly stated. Josiah and Vin approached the cell going on either side of Chris. Josiah's face showed the torment he was going through. Vin's remained Impassive, still trying to decide where he stood with all of this.
Ezra kept his eyes on Chris not sure what he just said. Something flashed through his mind and he closed his eyes as if trying to remember something, but it slipped away before he could grab it. By the looks on Vin and Josiah's face he knew there was more.
"And," Ezra prompted the stoic leader.
"The Major says you ran during a gun fight causing the death of his son," Chris added his voice remaining low. Ezra cocked his head to the side and stared at the harden gunslinger with a skeptical glance. He slowly sat back down on the cot and stared down at his hands.
"What do you remember, Ezra?" Josiah's baritone voice broke the deathly silence.
Ezra kept his head down; he couldn't believe what was happening. Did everyone believe he ran? Did he run? Ezra's head throbbed and he realized that Mr. Jackson had not returned with his herbal concoction. Ezra's gut twisted, it felt like his heart was being torn to pieces. His southern drawl was strained as he replied, "I remember covering Mr. Dunne and you, a lot of gunfire, then waking up with a splitting headache." Ezra frowned and brought his hand up to rub his burning eyes, his vision kept blurring and it was making him dizzy.
"Did you run, Ezra?" Chris asked, making solid the words that ran though Ezra's own head.
Again the long silence, Ezra's heart beat hard in his chest. He could feel the blood rushing to his head. He tried to take a deep breath to calm it down, but it stuck in his chest. He brought his head up slowly. "I don't know, I don't remember," he answered, a tremulous note in his voice. Josiah hung his head.
Chris ran his hand over his face rubbing at his tired eyes. He didn't know what to do. Major Quist was the Judge's best friend a decorated war hero, why would he lie? Ezra was a conman and sometimes a cheat, but he was also a good friend, who had proved himself numerous times. Chris looked upon the distraught features of the gambler wondering if it was all an act.
Chris' musings were interrupted by the Judge's heavy footfalls behind him. The Judge believed that Ezra Standish was responsible for the death of his godson, he had no reason to doubt his long time friend. The Judge glared at Ezra, the disgust not hidden on his aged face, he blamed himself for hiring a man who only looked after number one.
"Mr. Standish, there will be a hearing to determine if there is sufficient evidence to hold a trial," he simply announced, but all detected the undertone of rage.
Ezra looked at Chris who didn't meet his eyes, then turned to the Judge. "What's the charge?"
"The Major is accusing you of dereliction of duty leading to the death of his son," Judge Travis explained, regarding him through narrow eyes.
Ezra could see the Judge believed his long time friend. He had to get his wits about him. Ezra took a deep breath and started to get control of his rampaging emotions. "Judge, don't take this the wrong way, but could I request a different arbitrator, seeing that you are a close friend of my accuser."
"Don't worry Mr. Standish I'll be fair and this is only a hearing." The Judge turned and walked out.
Chris turned away to follow then stopped when Ezra quietly exclaimed, "You believe I ran, don't you Mr. Larabee?" Chris slowly turned his icy blue eyes back towards the gambler. His lips held in a firm straight line. He tried to loosen his clenched fists.
"I don't know what to think, Ezra. What am I suppose to think? you can't even remember what happened." Chris hadn't intended to sound so angry. He turned and again started to walk out, upon reaching the door he heard the sarcastic remark Ezra spoke.
"I guess this puts us back at square one."
Chris bowed his head and continued out the door. Josiah's heart broke as he saw the familiar mask of apathy fall over Ezra's face as he stared at the remaining men, men he had considered friends, even family. Josiah and JD left leaving Vin to guard him. Ezra stretched out on the cot placing his hat over his face. Months of trust destroyed in a single moment, but could he really blame them when he himself had doubts.
He watched from a distant knoll. He watched as JD and Josiah again reached the safety of the rocks then the gunfire increased, his heart beat faster as he watched himself run. He called out to stop, racing down the hill to stop himself. Ezra bolted upright, choking back the yell, his eyes darted back and forth stopping when they swept over the worried tracker who stood outside the cell.
"Are you alright?" Vin asked. He had heard the gambler tossing and turning, caught in the throes of a nightmare and was preparing to wake him. He hated seeing Ezra going through this, he still wasn't sure what to believe, but Ezra was a friend and he cared about him. He knew they all were having trouble dealing with the situation. Vin noticed Ezra's sweat soaked hair and his face appeared flushed.
"I am fine, Mr. Tanner," he replied in a shaky voice still reliving the nightmare in his mind. The night was warm, but Ezra couldn't shake the chill that had settled into him. He slowly laid back down, but he wouldn't go back to sleep, he may never sleep again. Ezra stared at the wooden ceiling, he continued to bury his feelings, deep where no one would ever find them and hurt him again. He had trusted six unique individuals, it had taken awhile, but he had started to open up to them. Now he knew, they still couldn't see past the outer covering, still couldn't believe that he could change. He'd thought he'd found a home, a family, he was wrong. The fever continued to rage through him stoking his growing anger. He hadn't run, he hadn't run, he kept saying to himself. Was he trying to convince himself? A single tear slid down his cheek the last one that he would allow to fall.
**** Part 4
The courtroom was packed with spectators, they overflowed out into the street. It looked like the whole town was in attendance. Some were genuinely concerned about justice, others only wanted to witness the downfall of one of the Seven. Josiah and Ezra sat at one of the front tables. Josiah wanted to represent Ezra he had allowed the demon of doubt into his heart and he needed to purge it. The other five gunslingers sat behind them, hoping to show the support they had a hard time feeling.
Major Jacob Quist sat alone at another table choosing to be his own console. He wore his military dress uniform. His face still held the grief he felt over the death of his son. They had held Orrin's funeral that morning. Everyone attended, except Ezra, who had to remain in jail and Vin who guarded him.
Judge Travis entered and sat down behind an elevated desk. He removed a gavel from his robes and struck it on the corner of the desk, ending the flurry of activity and noise. His own grief laid bare for all to see. He had thought that maybe they should of delayed the hearing for a few days, wait for everyone's emotions, especially his, to calm down. But Major Quist had been adamant and convinced him to go ahead.
"This court is now in session," the Judge's voice boomed across the room. "This is only a hearing to decide if there is sufficient evidence to hold a trial. Mr. Sanchez is representing Mr. Standish." The Judge took a deep breath staring out over the room. He saw Mary and many of the other women dressed in dark clothing to show respect. He also noticed that Mr. Standish had seen fit to wear something a little less flamboyant than his usual fare. He wore a plain shirt and dark blue jacket, which made him look even paler.
Ezra sat quietly his eyes glued to his steepled fingers in front of his face. He heard the murmurings of coward and traitor in the background, these words cut a path through his soul, hurting more than any bullet could. No one had visited him in jail, they only came to guard him, knowing his talent for locks. They believed he'd ran, the wall was slowly being built up again. Why had he even tried?
"Major Jacob Quist will you please take the stand and state your case for the court," the Judge asked, his voice emotionless, trying to bury his grief for the time being.
The Major stood, holding his chin up he walked up to the wooden chair that sat next to the Judge's desk and sat down, he glared at Ezra, who ignored him.
"That man," he pointed an accusing finger towards Ezra. "Is responsible for my son's death." Ezra closed his eyes, his headache had not got any better and his vision blurred at times. He felt a chill go through him and tried to suppress a shiver. He barely heard the murmurs that came with the Major's accusation it sounded more like a low atonal hum surrounding him.
Nathan noticed that Ezra looked very pale and he saw the shiver that went through his body. Guilt struck him as he remembered he'd forgotten to give him any pain or fever medicine yesterday. It wasn't intentional, Buck had broken some of his stitches and Nathan had to sew him up again, by the time he was finished he had just forgot. 'It wasn't intentional', he said to himself. Was it?
"Please Major Quist, just state the facts," Judge Travis reprimanded. He was trying to keep his own emotions from interfering with the proceedings.
The Major bowed his head and took a deep breath then released it. The room had become deathly silent. "Mr. Larabee sent me, Orrin, Mr. Dunne, Mr. Sanchez and Mr. Standish around to the west side to see if we couldn't trap the Morales' gang between us." Major Quist took another deep quivering breath and continued, "We came under fire by a couple of the outlaws so we gave cover fire to Mr. Dunne and Mr. Sanchez so they could make their way to some nearby rocks and try and get behind them. Next thing I know we started receiving gunfire from two sides and found ourselves in a crossfire." The Major's eyes began to mist and he stopped for a moment, bowing his head until he composed himself. "We, me, Orrin and Mr. Standish hunched down and tried to return fire. I turned to see Mr. Standish just sitting there with this strange look on his face. He said, 'tell Larabee I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore' and took off." Ezra's eyes narrowed at this statement, but he remained silent. "I yelled for him to stop worried for his safety, but then the gunfire intensified and it took everything Orrin and I had to protect ourselves, but it wasn't enough. I watched as Orrin took a bullet and fell." Tears streamed down Major Quist's cheeks. "I'd be dead too, but the others must of got the outlaws to retreat."
Ezra's face remained impassive as he listened to the Major's account of what had happened. He could feel the eyes behind him glaring accusingly.
Chris and the others wanted to believe Ezra, but one question kept returning, why would the Major lie? What reason would he have? Chris couldn't come up with a good enough answer, and then that one little thought crept in, like an annoying itch you just can't scratch. He ran once before. No matter how hard they tried the six men couldn't keep this thought from slipping into the forefront of their minds.
Chris looked from behind to see Ezra's hands clenched so tight they shook. Josiah placed a comforting hand on the con man's shoulder, which he promptly shrugged off. Josiah feared that Ezra was rebuilding the wall that had taken them all so long to break down. They were a family now, each one made whole by the others. What would happen if they lost one of their own? Josiah turned sad blue eyes back towards the others.
"Thank you Major that will be all," Judge Travis curtly dismissed the distraught man. His own gray-green eyes misting as he held back the tears.
"Mr. Standish, will you please take the stand," the Judge ordered, his voice cracking slightly.
Ezra rose slowly his head felt like it was trapped in a vise. His body ached and he had to steady himself a moment. He straightened his jacket and took the seat the Major just vacated.
"Now Mr. Standish, I understand you sustained a head wound and don't remember much of what happened, but please tell us what you do remember?" Judge Travis asked, honestly trying to keep his feelings from interfering, but he had a hard time looking at the man he believed was responsible for his god-son's death.
Ezra looked over the crowd, noticing Buck with his arm in a sling, grateful that he was okay. These people wanted to see remorse that wasn't something he was willing to give them. His southern drawl was steady, his words lucid. "I remember giving Mr. Dunne and Mr. Sanchez cover fire and then being caught in a crossfire." Ezra paused bringing his hands up to rub his temples; his brows came together in frustration. He had tried all night to remember. "Then I woke up in a crevice and came back to town."
Ezra could hear the rumbles of discontent throughout the courtroom. He looked over to his friends, seeing the sadness in their faces, the disappointment. It tore at his gut, his heart, at his very soul. Lord how it hurt.
"Major Quist do you wish to ask any questions?" Ezra vaguely heard the Judge's muffled voice.
"Yes, your honor." Major Quist stood, his hands behind his back as he approached the stand.
Ezra's face remained impassive under the Major's scrutiny, which unnerved him slightly.
"Well since you insist you don't remember running out on us, I won't waste the courts time in re-hashing that." Ezra glared at the Major noticing that the Judge had allowed the maligning statement.
"You ran once before though, didn't you, Mr. Standish?" Major Jacob asked, the malice dripping from every word.
Ezra refused to be intimidated by this man. He was sorry about Orrin's death, but he felt he had nothing to do with it. "Yes," he stated emphatically.
"Your friends were almost killed because you left your post to search for gold, is this correct?" This stunned the others, the Judge had apparently told the Major every detail.
"Yes," Ezra answered, chagrin flickered across his face, but was quickly brought under control.
"Why did you run out on them, Mr. Standish?" Jacob asked, bending closer to the stoic conman.
Ezra didn't even flinch as he replied, "To save my own skin, Major." Josiah bowed his head, why did Ezra have to choose now to be completely honest. The courtroom broke into an uproar. Chris, Buck, JD, Vin and Nathan stood up placing their hands on their guns warning the angered crowd back.
Major Quist straighten, a triumphant grin on his face as he turned to Judge Travis. "No further questions, your honor." Jacob knew he had won. Ezra would be found guilty and sent away, his secret would be safe and he'd have the added bonus of being able to join up with the Seven.
Josiah stepped up to Ezra hoping to put a better light on things.
"Mr. Standish, you did come back didn't you?" Josiah calmly asked.
"Yes," Ezra replied quietly. The room had started to spin and he turned his eyes down to the floor.
"You saved them, they would of been killed if you hadn't returned," Josiah remarked, more as a statement then a question.
"They wouldn't of been in that position if he hadn't of ran!" Major Quist yelled out. Judge Travis struck his gavel on the table.
Josiah ignored the Major's outburst and continued, "The truth is, you've saved them a number of times at risk to your own life, isn't that true Mr. Standish?"
Ezra brought his green gaze up looking over at the men he considered more than just associates, he would give his life for these men. "Yes."
"That's all Judge," Josiah said.
"Thank you Mr. Standish, that'll be all," the Judge wearily said.
Ezra slowly walked back over to his seat. Nathan could see the flush of fever and his gut tore with guilt.
"Mr. Sanchez is there anyone you'd like to call up?" The Judge asked the ex-preacher who stood in front of his desk
"Yes, I'd like Nathan Jackson to take the stand," Josiah requested, turning to face his friend and seeing his stunned expression. Nathan hadn't expected to be called to testify.
"Mr. Jackson can the type of head wound that Mr. Standish received cause memory loss?" Josiah asked the fidgety healer.
Nathan looked over at Ezra who refused to meet his dark eyes. "Yes, definitely."
"Could his memory come back?"
"Maybe, not enough is known about how the mind works to make even an educated guess," Nathan explained, hoping this somehow helped Ezra.
"Do you trust Mr. Standish?" Josiah suddenly threw out the question towards the dark healer.
Nathan had to think about it for a moment. He thought about how Ezra had taken the children under his wing at the Seminole village and how he had helped Li Pong and even saved JD's life at risk to his own. "Yes, I do trust him."
"Thank you Mr. Jackson, no further questions."
Nathan was preparing to leave when Major Quist stood. "I have a few questions for Mr. Jackson, if you don't mind." Nathan sunk back into the chair.
"Mr. Jackson, have you ever seen Mr. Standish con or cheat anyone?"
"Well, ah not really, I mean it wasn't malicious or anything, it's just somethin' he's been taught to do since birth. It's survival for him," Nathan stammered.
"So he has?"
Nathan didn't answer so the Major continued, "Could you tell if he was conning us now to save his own hide?"
Nathan bowed his head when he spoke. "No."
"Thank you, Mr. Jackson."
Nathan left the chair looking down at Ezra as he passed by noticing how pale he was becoming. Buck patted Nathan's back with his good hand as he sat down trying to reassure him, but Nathan didn't feel he had done Ezra any good.
"Major Quist do you wish to call up any more witnesses?" The Judge asked.
"Yes, I wish to call Chris Larabee."
Chris removed his hat as he took the seat next to the Judge.
"Mr. Larabee, you didn't trust Mr. Standish at first did you?"
"No," Chris replied.
"Why did you hire him?" Jacob asked.
"I thought he would come in handy."
"You thought a liar and a cheat would come in handy?" The Major repeated.
"And has he?" The Major asked.
"Yep," Chris repeated looking straight up at the Major's dark eyes.
"What did you say to him after he came back and saved you all at the Indian Village?"
Chris took a deep breath. "I told him never run out on me again."
"And his reply?"
Chris clenched his jaw before answering. "He didn't give one."
"Do you think he would run?"
Chris paused a moment which brought Ezra's green eyes upon him, he stared back with the same intensity and answered, "I don't know." The courtroom went into another uproar. Vin, JD, Buck and Nathan again stood placing their hands on their guns. Several people made threatening moves, but backed off when they looked into the fierce eyes of the four gunslingers. Ezra was still one of them and they would protect him no matter what.
It took a moment to regain order in the courtroom. Chris and Ezra's menacing stares remained locked on each other, neither one willing to back down.
"No more questions," Jacob smugly announced returning to his own chair.
Josiah came up to the dark-clad gunslinger putting his body between the two men effectively ending their line of sight battle.
"Mr. Larabee, has Mr. Standish proved himself a valuable member of this town?"
Josiah turned to the side allowing Chris to see his friend as he replied, "Yes, he has."
"No more questions." Josiah wanted to end this he didn't like the way Ezra was looking.
"Any more remarks or questions?" The Judge asked.
The Major stood up. "I know what I saw and I saw that man run. He ran to save his own skin just like before. He might not of pulled the trigger, but he's just as responsible for my son's death."
Ezra stood up placing his hands on the table to steady himself, Chris noticed this and looked past to Nathan who also watched with worried eyes. Chris slowly stepped down from the chair and moved closer to the unsteady man. Ezra's green eyes locked on to the Major's dark ones. "I don't remember what happened I wish I did. I'm sorry for your son's death, but I didn't run!" Ezra said this with conviction even though it was the first time he felt it was true. Everyone started talking and yelling at once. The Judge's gavel came down once then twice causing Ezra to flinch. His arms shook and his breathing quickened. The room started to heave then waver and Ezra felt his legs buckle; he never touched the floor. Chris was ready, he leapt forward catching the collapsing man and gently lowered him to the floor. The other gunslingers quickly came to their side.
Nathan jumped over the railing and rushed to his side feeling for a pulse. He felt the heat coming off his body and swore, which immediately got Josiah's attention.
Josiah placed a forgiving hand the guilt-ridden healer's shoulder.
***** Part 5
Ezra awoke a couple hours later back in a jail cell. He was on his side facing the wall and could hear the low murmurings of a conversation in the background. He strained to listen.
"How do you all know he's not lying or conning us right now?" Judge Travis' gruff voice rose slightly. "That man was taught to lie since the day he was born, Mr. Jackson said so himself. I'm sorry gentlemen I have no choice."
"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Major being a friend now, would it Judge?" Buck asked, trying to keep the underlining contempt he now felt for the Judge and the Major.
"Mr. Wilmington, I admit my bias. I've known Jacob for thirty years, hell, he's a decorated war hero why would he lie? Someone tell me that." Everyone was silent.
Ezra slowly rolled over in his bunk. "And I'm just a two-bit gambler," his voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Vin, go get Nathan," Chris said as he stepped up to the cell.
"So, what's the verdict?" Ezra asked as he slowly sat up bringing the palms of his hands up to his eyes, trying to push back the pain. The Judge approached the cell the hate still evident on his face, even though he was trying to hide it. Buck and JD stood slightly behind him.
"I've called for a circuit judge he should be here in a few days. I'm sorry Mr. Standish, but you leave me no other choice. You have that time to get your memory back before we hold the trial," Judge Travis explained to the weary looking con man.
"And if I don't get my memory back?" Ezra asked the Judge, an icy edge to his voice.
"The trial will start in four days," The Judge answered with the same icy tone. He looked over at Chris who returned his gaze and watched him walk out.
"What am I looking at Mr. Larabee?" Ezra asked in an even voice. He couldn't stop the shiver, which shook him all the way up to his shoulders. He wasn't sure if it was from the fever he had or the fear that gripped his heart. He felt his life, a life he had come to love, being ripped from his grasp and there was nothing he could do about it.
"If you're found guilty you could possibly get a year at Yuma prison, more an likely you'll be sent to Tucson jail for a month and asked not to return," Chris regretfully replied.
"Chris, they can't do that, they can't break us up," Buck uttered as the implication finally dawned on him. It was a long time before he trusted the suave gambler, but he considered him a very good friend and he didn't think he would run.
Buck looked over his shoulder as Vin and Nathan entered the jail coming to stand on either side of Chris. "Ezra, how you feelin?" Nathan asked.
"Just dandy Mr. Jackson, go away!" Ezra spat out, no longer hiding his growing anger.
"Here Ezra drink this." Nathan held out the tin cup of water and herbs. Ezra looked up at it then slowly stood taking the cup. He stared at the dark healer and let his eyes sweep over the others behind him. He wondered where Josiah was? He noticed how JD couldn't even look at him, how Chris glared suspiciously. He could no longer keep his anger away and he welcomed it. It was a feeling he was familiar with and could deal with. It would fill the empty hole, which was slowly growing in his gut. Ezra slowly tipped the cup over dumping the pain-relieving contents onto the jail floor. Ezra's face was flushed with fever and a growing rage that made his emerald eyes blaze with a demon-like fire. He actually looked more dangerous than all six of the other gunslingers combined. Nathan bit his lip seeing that anger burning in Ezra's green eyes.
"Ezra you needed to drink that," Chris said flatly, trying to keep control of his own anger. He understood that Ezra was angry, but this wasn't helping any.
"Leave me alone, all of you! I was better off when I only relied on myself, because that's the way I always end up anyway. My mother was right!" He yelled, his voice rising with his anger. Anger felt better then the betrayal and disappointment he had been feeling, anger swallowed all that up, even the fear.
"Ezra you know that's not true," Vin voiced.
Ezra turned his back on them laying his hands palms down against the other wall. "If you could just remember what happened?" Chris angrily asked, he was frustrated at Ezra, himself, the whole damn situation.
Ezra snapped back around. "Why don't you try and beat me into remembering, come on Larabee, I won't even fight back," he replied in a menacing tone his hands held to his side palms out. "You all think I'm lying, conning you, well don't you?" Ezra's fever was stoking his anger, which was melting his fear. He watched as JD left the jail. Buck flashed a regretful expression and followed after the distraught young sheriff. Ezra returned to his cot and laid down throwing his arm across his eyes. He was tired and wished he had drunk some of Nathan's concoction.
Buck found JD outside sitting on the boardwalk. He sat down next to the young gunslinger, wincing as the movement caused his arm some discomfort. JD continued staring straight ahead holding back the tears that threatened to fall.
"Gawd Buck, what's happening? I don't want to believe that Ezra ran, I really don't, but..." JD wiped at a single tear that traveled down his cheek.
Buck put a brotherly arm across his shoulders, "I know JD, I know. None of us do. We're just going to have to hope that the truth will eventually come out."
JD turned his head to look at his best friend, who was like a brother. "What if Ezra never remembers?"
Buck closed his eyes; sometimes the kid asked the hardest questions.
The next morning Mary came into the jail with a tray of food. The Major was like an Uncle to her and she had cared deeply about Orrin, like a younger brother. She nodded towards Vin and Buck, who were sitting around the desk playing cards. Ezra was sitting up leaning against the wall his eyes closed. She hadn't trusted Ezra in the beginning. Like a lot of people, she believed he only watched out for number one, but over the months he had proved himself. Mary had caught a glimpse beneath that arrogant armor he hid behind. She even developed feelings for the frightened, insecure man that she discovered there, which had complicated her feelings for Chris Larabee. She never told anyone how she felt, she always thought or hoped it was just girlish infatuation or lust, Ezra Standish was an extremely handsome man. Now, she couldn't even force herself to look at the man she believed responsible for Orrin's death.
"I have some breakfast for Mr. Standish," she said to Buck.
Ezra cringed when he heard Mary call him by his last name. Buck opened the door allowing Mary to place the tray on the small table.
"Thank you, Miss Travis," Ezra quietly murmured opening his green eyes to meet Mary's soft cornflower, blue ones. She quickly turned and left. Ezra watched her go. He saw the hurt and betrayal in her eyes. Where once he believed they had held something more than just friendship, the hole in his gut grew bigger.
"Ezra?" Buck's low voice tried to break into his thoughts. Buck wanted desperately to talk to his friend to tell him everything would be okay, but he couldn't. The fact was he didn't know what to say to him.
Ezra refused to acknowledge him and Buck quietly closed the cell door and returned to Vin.
A couple hours later JD entered the jail. "I'm going to talk to Ezra," he told Buck and Vin.
"Have at it, maybe you'll have better luck than us," Vin replied. Buck gave JD an encouraging smile. He knew the young gunslinger cared very much for everyone, maybe too much. Buck feared the young man was going to get hurt.
Ezra hadn't spoke to anyone since yesterday, and JD noticed the untouched tray of food in his cell.
"Ezra, I'm sorry," JD quietly remarked not knowing what else to say. He removed his bowler allowing strands of his dark hair to fall across his distraught face.
Ezra sat up from his bed. He saw that JD was truly concerned. His anger had abated slightly as his health seemed to be improving. "There is nothing to be sorry for Mr. Dunne," Ezra replied apathetically. He was tired, he'd stayed up all night thinking, knowing he'd have to get himself out of this. No one else was going to help.
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Only if you're willing to aid in my emancipation so I can try and clear my tarnished reputation."
"Ezra, I can't," JD replied looking over his shoulder at Buck and Vin who were concentrating on a card game. "This is the Judge's orders, you're to remain locked up until the trial."
Ezra chuckled. "I understand Mr. Dunne, they believe I would run out, depriving them of the pleasure of watching me leave in chains." JD grimaced at this. Ezra hated putting JD in this position or trying to use his friendship, but he was desperate. "You haven't seen Josiah around lately, have you?" The thought that Josiah also believed he was guilty was almost more than he could bear. He hadn't seen the giant man since the hearing.
"No, Ezra I haven't," JD sadly replied. He knew how close Ezra and Josiah had become, it was almost a father/son relationship. Ezra's faint smile left his face taking away the dimples in his cheeks. JD put his bowler back on his head. His lips pressed in a firm straight line as he walked past Vin and Buck without even a good-bye.
Vin stretched his lean form trying to remove some of the kinks in his tired muscles. None of the gunslingers were getting much in the way of sleep. "Buck I'm going to stretch my legs some, you want me to get you anything?" Buck only shook his head, examining the cards he had and wondering how he had lost almost every game him and Vin had played. He started suspecting Vin of cheating. Vin glanced over at Ezra who hadn't moved since JD left, his food still untouched.
Vin walked out squinting against the late afternoon sunshine, be breathed in the cool clear air trying to clear his own head. He spotted Chris leaned over the railing a cheroot between his teeth and walked over to him.
"Has he remembered anything?" Chris asked, without looking up, knowing who it was.
"He won't say a word. There's got to be somethin' we can do, Chris?" Vin replied. Chris turned his head at the anguish plea from the usually taciturn man. "I don't believe he ran. Don't ask me why, it's just a feelin'," Vin added. He rubbed his thumb over his upper lip looking out towards the distant overlapping hills.
"I know, I have that same feelin," Chris replied dropping the cheroot to the ground and grinding it out under his heel. They were as close to brothers as one could get without being blood, at times they shared the same thought and didn't even have to talk to hold a conversation. Both men knew they would not allow Ezra to go to jail, but they didn't know how to save their broken friendship, which lay shattered in pieces at their feet.
***** Part 6
The next morning JD entered the jail to find Buck still on duty. He was ashamed of himself, for awhile he believed that Ezra had run. He had stayed up most of the night, finally forcing himself to believe that Ezra didn't run. "Why don't you go get some breakfast Buck, I'll take over for awhile."
"Don't mind if I do. I'll bring you and Ezra back something." Buck looked over at Ezra who was beginning to look gaunt; he'd barely eaten anything in two days.
After Buck left, JD went up to the cell. "Ezra."
Ezra removed the hat from his face and looked up at the young sheriff. His headache had finally gone, but he still couldn't remember anything. For the past two days he had done nothing but replay in his mind what he could remember, hoping the missing pieces would finally come.
"Your horse is out back," JD simply stated. He removed his badge from his vest pocket and placed it on the desk. He walked out the door knowing Ezra could probably open his cell door faster than he could unlock it using the key.
Ezra watched as JD walked out renewing some of his lost hope. He pushed open the cell door; he had already unlocked it while Buck was on duty. He couldn't help it. He had become bored. Ezra found his horse fully saddled and ready, JD had even packed some food in the saddlebags and his flask. Ezra took up the reins and led the horse out from the alley. He checked the street before mounting and rode off.
From the hotel doorway the Major watched as Ezra left the jail. He sipped his coffee, a satisfying smile coming slowly to his face. He had hoped for this chance. He knew of the gambler's penchant for breaking out of jails. The Major tossed the last of his coffee into the street and headed towards the stables.
Vin was returning from rounds when he spotted Ezra racing by and decided to follow. He hoped his friend wasn't running away. He didn't know what he'd do if that were the case. He didn't want to see Ezra go to jail and thought maybe this would be the best for everyone. He pushed the dismal thought aside realizing some part of him believed the Major.
Ezra didn't even notice the buckskin tracker so intent on discovering the truth.
Vin kept his distance, and was relieved when he knew where the enigmatic conman was heading. He followed Ezra back to the rocky outcropping and watched from the cover of several trees as Ezra dismounted. It looked like the gambler was searching for something. Vin continued to watch as Ezra knelt down placing his hand on the spot where Orrin Quist had died, the blood now dried into the ground. He stood and looked at the spot where him and the Major took cover. An imagine flashed in his head causing him to bring his hand up to his face, but stopping halfway. It all came rushing back and Ezra closed his eyes and hung his head. How was he going to convince the Judge and the others about what really happened? He thought about just leaving, he didn't want to go to jail, but something inside him wouldn't allow this thought to unfold. Ezra leaned up against a boulder trying to sort things out. He was still angry, the others had believed that he had run.
The Major climbed up the other side of the rocky outcropping. He laid himself flat upon a sloping rock and brought his rifle to his shoulder. He knew the gambling man was trying to remember by coming back here. Jacob carefully took aim at Ezra who was deep in thought. Jacob couldn't risk the fancy dressed lawman remembering, and this would be easier than going through a trial. Vin caught the glint of a rifle up in the rocks, but was too late to warn Ezra. Jacob squeezed the trigger, the bullet tearing into Ezra's side spinning him to the ground.
Vin drew his gun and rushed out scanning the above rocks. He raced to Ezra's side praying he wasn't dead. He checked for a pulse relieved to find one. Ezra moaned and Vin carefully turned the injured man over still searching the above rocks for his assailant. Ezra's eyes fluttered open and he grabbed the longhaired tracker by his shirt pulling himself up. "I remember, Vin, I didn't run." Vin couldn't help but hear the relief in Ezra's voice. His eyes slowly closed and he slumped back into the tracker's arms.
Chris had just finished reading JD the riot act after allowing Ezra to escape. His heart really wasn't in it though, he didn't blame the young gunslinger. He had even hoped once or twice that Ezra would escape. He had told the Judge who demanded they go after him, but Chris talked him into waiting until morning. JD believed that Ezra would return and that was good enough for him. He was glad someone still had faith in the ambiguous southerner. Chris was sitting in the saloon contemplating the bottle of Whiskey in front of him when Vin quietly appeared sitting in a chair next to him. He furtively glanced around the saloon.
"Chris," Vin uttered to Chris' bewildered expression. "I got Ezra."
Chris' visage remained stoic, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
"He's been shot," Vin added.
"What!" Chris' voice rose slightly grabbing the attention of several other patrons.
"I saw him leaving the jail so I followed him. He went back to where it all happened. He seemed to be looking for somethin', then someone shot him. I didn't get a look at who, maybe one of the Morales' gang was still hidden up there. He's up at Nathan's, he won't let Nathan take the bullet out until he speaks to you and the Judge."
Chris, Vin and Judge Travis entered Nathan's room to find Ezra laid out on the bed a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his waist. Sweat covered his muscular body and the three men could see the pain in his emerald eyes. He shook as his hands gripped the bed sheets.
Nathan stepped up to the three men. "Thank goodness, he won't take any pain medicine and he won't let me take out the bullet, says he needs to tell you something."
Chris knelt down beside the bed placing his hand on Ezra's fevered brow to get his attention. Ezra turned his head to the side his glassy green eyes trying to focus on the dark-clad leader.
"I didn't run," he rasped. Chris nodded in agreement not wanting to upset him at this time.
"I remember," he breathed out, wincing in pain. Nathan handed Chris a cool damp rag to place on his head.
"Ezra, let Nathan take care of you, we'll talk later," Chris quietly said.
"No, can't wait." Fear came to Ezra's eyes. "In case I don't make it."
Chris turned to Nathan as if to verify this, Nathan could only shrug, unsure.
Ezra had a driving desire for this man to know the truth he didn't want to die with Chris and the others thinking he was a coward.
Chris' heart broke at the pleading in the gambler's voice.
"The Major ran," Ezra gasped out. Vin and the Judge moved in closer at this admission.
Ezra licked his lips and Chris lifted his head, bringing a cup of water to his mouth. Ezra took a couple sips then continued, "We were pinned down. I thought the Major had been injured. He was just sitting there shaking, not doing anything." Ezra swallowed and fought the darkness that was threatening to fall upon him. "His eyes were wild and he kept saying we're outnumbered there's no chance then he ran off. Orrin ran after him. I tried to stop him, but I..." Ezra closed his eyes at the memory of the young man being gunned down in front of him. "...I tried to stop him."
Chris' eyes burned with hate, hate for the man who had caused all this. He believed what Ezra said; there was no demon of doubt in his mind this time. Chris placed his hand on Ezra's shoulder.
Ezra clenched his jaw as a searing pain ripped through him his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side. Nathan pushed Chris aside and quickly went to work removing the bullet from Ezra's side. Ezra didn't move or make a sound as Nathan sliced open the wound and started probing for the bullet. Chris and Vin stayed close incase they were needed. The bullet was deep and Nathan started worrying about shock. He finally found it and pulled it out. He applied pressure to the wound until it stopped bleeding then placed herbs on it to prevent infection. Chris helped Nathan raise the still unconscious man so he could wrap a clean bandage around him. They gently laid him back down. Chris brought the blanket up to his chest. Nathan checked his pulse and breathing and went to his table to prepare some pain medicine. He had heard what Ezra had said and guilt tore at him again. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive himself. Why'd had he not believed him?
"Will he be alright, Nat?" Vin asked, not taking his eyes off of Ezra's slow rising chest.
"I don't know, he's lost a lot of blood and was already weak from the fever he had and not eating," Nathan snapped, he slammed his fist against the dresser knocking over several vials.
Chris came over placing a hand on the black man's shoulder. "It's not your fault, Nathan."
Nathan turned angrily on Chris. "It isn't? I didn't give him medicine because I thought he ran. I thought he was responsible for that young man's death." This was the first time that Nathan had admitted this out loud. Tears glistened in his caring dark eyes. He lowered his voice. "What kind of healer am I who couldn't put his personal feelings aside to help someone?"
"A human one," Chris answered. Nathan wasn't the only one shouldering a lot of guilt.
Chris, Vin and Judge Travis stepped out of the room. The Judge hadn't said a word the entire time and he now just stood and stared at the two men before him.
"It doesn't prove a thing, Chris," the Judge finally stated. He thought that Ezra was just making it up to save himself. "It's his word against Jacob's."
Vin shook his head and asked, "Why would he wait till now to remember?"
Before the Judge could answer Josiah came running up the stairs. Fear gripped him when he saw the three men outside Nathan's room. He had just come from the jail. "What happened?"
"Ezra was shot," Vin replied.
Josiah closed his eyes and fell against the wall. "Oh, no, will he be okay?"
"Nathan doesn't know yet," Vin answered.
"Where have you been?" Chris asked, the anger he was feeling now directed at Josiah, remembering that the ex-preacher was no where to be found after the trial.
"I just returned from Ft Kinney," Josiah stated ignoring Chris' wrath. He looked towards the Judge.
"And why Mr. Sanchez, did you feel the need to go there," Judge Travis asked.
"I wanted a little more information on Major Jacob Quist, now I wish I'd gone sooner." Josiah answered. After what he was about to say, if Ezra died no one would be able to forgive themselves, including him.
"So what did you find out, Josiah," Chris impatiently asked.
"It appears the Major didn't retire. He is under suspension, pending investigation." Josiah noticed even Chris' eyes grew wide. "His superiors wouldn't tell me the reason, but a young corporal did. Apparently, a month ago the Major was in charge of a small unit of about seventeen men. They ran into a band of comanches and were severely outnumbered. The Major's second in command recommended that they pull back and call for reinforcement, but Major Quist wouldn't here of it. He told the men to attack. When it became apparent that they were about to be overrun the Major froze and ran, fifteen men died. They say he lost his nerve, but was too proud to admit it. He always wanted to prove that he could still command."
"Holy sh*t," Vin gasped out as him and Chris regarded each other sharing the anger and blame between them.
Judge Travis bowed his head. He didn't want to believe it, but doubt was slowly ebbing its way into his soul. He lowered his body down onto the bench outside Nathan's door. The three gunslingers saw the despair on their aged friend's face. He had trusted Jacob and that trust led to the persecution of an innocent man and friend. The Judge didn't know how Standish could ever forgive any of them, he wasn't sure he could forgive himself. The frustration and despair that Chris had been feeling over the past few days was now replaced with anger.
"Vin get JD, I have a plan," Chris stated, a venomous smile coming to his hardened face. He realized that it was still Ezra's word against the Major's, but he was not about to put Ezra through a trial.
***** Part 7
"So Mr. Larabee, I hear one of your men captured Mr. Standish, that is good news," Major Quist said to the dark-clad gunslinger who was sitting by himself in the quiet bar room. Major Quist looked around, surprised none of the other gunslingers were about. In fact, he hadn't seen any of them all day.
"Yeah, but someone shot him." Chris tossed back the shot he was holding trying to wash down the bile that was rising in his throat from being in the same room with this man.
"Well, you'll forgive me if I'm not sorry," Major Quist sneered. "Will he be able to stand trial?"
Chris slowly raised his head to look up at the Major who stood on the other side of the table. "Nathan says he's in some kinda coma, but Vin told us before he passed out he remembered what happened. So all we have to do is wait until he wakes up." The Major appeared to get slightly flustered then quickly composed himself, but not before bringing a slight smile to Larabee's face. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands around the smug Major's throat.
"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Larabee I just remembered somethin' I need to attend to." The Major quickly exited the saloon.
It was after midnight when a large form slipped into Nathan's darkened room. There wasn't even a lantern on and the windows were covered. Jacob Quist could just barely make out the dark shape, which laid unmoving on the bed under a quilt. The only sound the Major could detect was his own nervous breathing. He picked up a pillow which laid at the foot of the bed and moved up to the head. His mind wandered through the past few days, the death of his son still fresh in his heart. He still had a hard time believing he was gone. It was easier to believe that Orrin was in the military now or back east. After him and his mother separated he would go years without seeing the boy, so it wasn't hard to convince himself that Orrin was still alive. He knew the deception wouldn't last, but for now it was the only way he could remain sane. He hadn't planned on any of this happening. He was even a little sorry about what he had put the gambler, turned lawman through, but he couldn't change the past. He could only make sure no one ever discovered the truth. And honestly who would really miss a conniving conman, oh everyone will be a little sad for awhile, but then life will go on. He'll slowly work his way into the tight group of men and everything will be status quo. He'll help clean up this town and become famous, maybe even become the next sheriff. A faint grin came to the Major's stubbled face, yes, all he had to do was take care of this little problem and everything would be fine.
"Just your bad luck, Mr. Standish. I can't have you tellin' people I'm the one who ran. I should of made sure you were dead when I shot you, would of saved us all a lot of grief. I'll say a couple nice words at your funeral," Jacob whispered to the person on the bed. He brought the pillow down over the person's face his own heart racing. He heard the door creak open and quickly straightened, dropping the pillow to the floor. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes from the sudden light now invading the room from the hallway. He made out the dark lean silhouette of Larabee and the more stout form of Judge Travis. The Major's breath caught somewhere between his lungs and throat, but he forced it back down.
"Ah, Mr. Larabee, Judge, I thought I heard Mr. Standish cry out so I'd thought I'd better check," Major Quist volunteered, his voice somewhat shaky. The two men remained silent, staring at the military man causing him to shift nervously. Major Quist winced when he felt the barrel of a gun jab into his stomach and heard the slow pull back of the hammer. Major Quist looked down into the face of young Mr. Dunne and closed his eyes.
"Well, JD?" Chris prompted.
"He's the one who ran alright," JD announced with disgust. "He also shot him." This surprised everyone in the room and only furthered Chris' hatred towards this man and his own sense of guilt. JD wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger, but he realized he was also guilty, for he had believed the Major.
Jacob stepped towards the door. "Orrin, you have to understand I was desperate," he pleaded. "Everything I lived by was falling away. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't have people thinking I was a coward."
Judge Travis didn't know what to say to his long time friend who had caused him to almost destroy another man's life. He looked at him like he didn't know him and realized he didn't.
"Orrin, does thirty years of friendship mean nothing to you?" Jacob Quist implored.
Judge Travis' eyes narrowed with anger. "It obviously meant nothing to you!" His voice rose. "You turned me and everyone else against a good man. You almost killed him, maybe ruined his life, all because you couldn't admit to your own shortcomings." Judge Travis' face was turning red with rage as his anger came tumbling out. "Your son and fifteen men paid the price for your damnable pride, Jacob. Don't talk to me about friendship you threw it away just like you threw away my god-son's life!"
Judge Travis turned sharply away. He couldn't stand the sight of the man he once called friend. Jacob hung his head. Chris' own infamous rage had been stoked by the Judge's tirade and was slowly coming to a boil. It had taken a long time to build the fragile friendship between him and the others and the stoic gambler. Was it now destroyed? Chris' anger erupted as he looked at the Major and thought about everything Ezra had been put through. Chris wasn't sure Ezra would be able to forgive them, much less the whole town. This man had taken the precious gift of friendship between seven men and stomped it into the ground. As Major Quist neared the staircase Chris couldn't hold it back any longer and lashed out. The two tumbled to the bottom of the stairs. Chris stood up, pulling the stunned Major up by the collar and landing two solid punches to his stomach causing him to double over. Vin and Buck leaned up against the bar, smug smiles on their faces as they watched Chris' rage do what they themselves wanted to. JD stared down from the balcony grinning. Judge Travis turned away. Chris held the unsteady man up and looked him in the eye. "This is for Ezra." He put all his anger and guilt behind his fist, which connected with Jacob's jaw, Josiah grabbed his beer as the Major came flying, only to crash upon his table turning it into so much kindling. Josiah raised his beer to Chris who was bent over gasping for breath his anger having been spent.
JD came down the stairs followed by the Judge who looked at Chris then down at the Major who was trying to pick himself up off the floor. Josiah's foot came down on his back forcing him back down.
"Mr. Dunne, please arrest Major Quist, until we find out if Mr. Standish wishes to press charges," Judge Travis coolly advised.
Buck and Vin moved in to help JD pick the Major up off the floor and carry him to jail. Judge Travis looked over at Chris and Josiah both wearing the same look of guilt as his own; he turned and walked out the saloon doors.
It was a couple days before Ezra regained consciousness and the six gunslingers barely left his side. The whole town had been made aware about what had transpired and for a few days people could not look one another in the eyes. Many came by asking about Mr. Standish's health and sent their thoughts and prayers. Mary brought food to all of them every day trying to relieve her own burden of distrust.
When Ezra finally opened his eyes it was to the relieved faces of six men who wanted nothing more than to beg his forgiveness.
"How you feelin', Ezra?" Nathan asked placing a dark hand on his much cooler forehead. Ezra heard the concern and furrowed his brow. He thought the last several days had been a dream, but then he looked around and realized he was no longer in the jail. He let out the breath he had been holding since it all began.
"Tired," Ezra softly replied and let his eyes close. He wasn't as tired as he made out, but he didn't want to talk with anyone right now. He had too much still to sort out.
"You rest, we're here for ya, pard," Buck said, with this Ezra drifted slowly off.
The next day JD filled Ezra in on all that had transpired, seeing the relief flood through him, but no smile came to the chiseled face. The six gunslingers slowly made their way in, one at a time, apologizing the best they could. Buck even brought him a new deck of cards. Chris thought Ezra forgave them all a little to quickly.
Judge Travis was the last to appear and Ezra actually took a certain amount of pleasure seeing the esteemed Magistrate remorseful. "I doubt there is anything I can do to make it up to you, Mr. Standish. I can only hope you someday can forgive a stubborn, short sighted old man." Ezra didn't blame him; the Major had been his friend for thirty years. He had only done what any friend would of done, what six gunslingers should of done for him.
"Would you like to press charges against Major Quist," the Judge asked.
"No, let him go, the loss of a son is enough punishment," Ezra replied. He just wanted the whole sorted mess to go away.
The Judge complied with Ezra's wishes, but to ease his own guilt he felt he had to do more. He wanted to make sure this would never happen again. The Judge found Josiah hard at work outside the church trying to ease the burden of his own remorse.
"Mr. Sanchez, would you care to accompany me to Fort Kinney to meet with Colonel Phillips of the Military disciplinary board?"
A mischievous grin came to Josiah long, beard stubbled face and he put down the ax he was using and followed the Judge.
"Chris! Chris!" JD came racing into the saloon trying to catch his breath.
"Whoa, there JD, what's all the excitement?" Buck asked. Things had finally quieted down and were trying to get back to normal. Ezra was still recovering, but Nathan was worried, the usually contentious conman had not tried to leave the confines of the clinic, hadn't fought him in any way.
"It's Ezra. He's leaving," JD gasped out, his eyes wide the fear on his face almost palpable.
"What!" All five of the men replied in unison.
"His bags are packed and he's saddlin' his horse now."
The five men rose as one and followed JD out the doors all thinking the same thing.
Ezra continued saddling his horse as the six men entered the stable. He had expected them sooner or later. He patted his horse's neck as he bent over and stepped underneath, placing the horse between himself and the six gunslingers.
"What do you think you're doing?" Buck was the first to ask.
Ezra threw his arms over the saddle, his face impassive. Chris got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw that famous poker face look back at them.
"I know you're not blind, Mr. Wilmington, I'm leaving," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Ezra, you're not well enough to ride," Nathan added.
"I'm fine Mr. Jackson," Ezra quietly remarked to the concerned healer checking the cinch on his saddle. Emotions churned inside his gut, numbing the pain of his wound.
"Why," Chris asked. Ezra laid his head upon his saddle for a moment then raised it to face the six most important people in his life.
"Doubt is a dangerous entity in our business, Mr. Larabee. I couldn't live with myself if I became responsible for one of your deaths." Ezra took the reins of his horse and led him out past the six astonished faces.
"Ezra, we know you wouldn't run, we trust you," Chris tried to assure him, following him out. The six gunslingers were still dealing with their own culpability over what had happened. They had let one of their own down, it was hard to deal with.
Ezra smiled at the sedate gunslinger, the only man he had ever truly respected in his life.
Ezra locked eyes on each one of the brave men that stood before him. He tried to keep his voice from cracking as he replied, "Maybe it was only a moment, or just for a second, but each and every one of you believed I had run." This was stated not as an accusation, but as a simple statement of fact.
Everyone was quiet for a moment knowing the intuitive conman was right.
Ezra mounted his horse and looked down at the six men, who he almost considered brothers. He swallowed hard trying to keep the emotions that threatened to gush forth, bottled up inside. "I don't blame any of you. The fact is." Ezra's voice caught. He released a trembling breath and closed his eyes to stop the tears from falling before he continued, "For awhile, I believed it myself."
Ezra gently spurred his horse and trotted away, then broke into a gallop. The six men stood silent, watching him go.
"He'll be back won't he, Chris?" JD asked.
"No JD, I don't think so." |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22234 | Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Harry Potter; J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. has that firmly in hand!
Author's Notes: Just a little drabble I wrote a while back and decided recently to have my Beta look at. It's silly, and fluffy… you've been warned, so that means flames aren't allowed! I do hope you enjoy!
Snape heard the quiet sniffling as he passed by the Transfiguration door. Normally he would not care, but his curiosity took hold, and he paused in his descent to the dungeons to peek his head into the Transfiguration classroom.
Professor Hermione Granger was sitting at her desk, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders rising and falling with her quiet sobs. She was murmuring something into her palms, and every now and again shaking her head. Snape raised a brow and opened the door slowly, but it made a noise anyway, announcing his arrival.
Hermione's head snapped up and he saw the tear stains on her cheeks, her cinnamon eyes shining bright with even more tears, her eyelids swollen. Her lips were open in surprise, and her hands were up in front of her face at the shock of him in front of her.
"Severus!" she exhaled, and hurried to turn her chair around. He saw her fumbling with her robes as if trying to hide what he had seen. "You startled me." Her voice was hoarse.
"Did I?" Snape wasn't sure why his feet kept moving toward her desk. He'd never seen her cry, and he hadn't wanted to. She was too beautiful for that. Suddenly, a rage swept through him. Why was she crying? Who had made her cry? His expression darkened as he stormed around her desk and swiveled her around to face him. "Why are you crying?" he demanded, taking hold of her delicate shoulders and shaking her gently.
Hermione tried to hide her face. "It's nothing, Severus…"
"Hermione," he growled, using his thumb and forefinger to capture her chin and lift her face. "Tell me."
She suddenly burst out crying, her whole body wracked with sobs as she leaned forward to hide her face against his chest.
"You didn't hold my hand at dinner!" she wailed, her fists clenching as they wrapped in his black robes.
Snape frowned, his hands on her shoulders going slack. What in Merlin's name… she was crying because he wouldn't hold her hand at dinner? He had been the one to make her cry? He was slightly annoyed she would cry this hard over something that seemed so trivial…
"I was eating…" he explained sheepishly, then cursed inwardly for even offering an explanation. He didn't do explanations.
"You don't care for me!" she howled as tears soaked through his teaching robes.
Snape had had enough. He stood at his full height, bringing Hermione up from her chair. His arms wrapped tightly around her, one hand entangling in her curls and grasping the nape of her neck. He molded her body to his, and claimed her lips with his own.
When they parted, Hermione hiccupped and continued wiping away her tears. "You always try to distract me that way."
Snape narrowed his dark eyes at her. "What has you so insecure, Hermione? Even you must admit this is a bit dramatic."
Hermione sniffed indignantly as she rested her hands on his chest. "You spent the whole summer making love to me and telling me how beautiful I am…" She didn't look at him as she murmured, "Of course, the whole summer. You're ashamed to be seen with me in public."
Throwing his hands up in the air, Snape rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "You're impossible, woman. Most of the staff is already aware of our… affiliation; do you want to announce it to the students, as well?"
Hermione's head snapped up. Indignant, she repeated, "Affiliation?" Head held high, she turned away from him and stalked toward her quarters, throwing her mass of curls over her shoulder as she went.
Realizing he'd merely directed her emotions from sadness and hurt to anger and hurt, he quickly made to catch up with her. He took her elbow and tried to spin her around, but she kept going, forcing him to enter her quarters with her.
She started taking off her robes, and Snape stood frozen to the spot as she stripped down to her skivvies before facing him. One of her brows was raised, and she had her hands on her hips.
His mouth was agape, and he hastened to shut it. He'd seen her in her undergarments plenty of delicious times, but he was confused by her actions. He'd thought she would deny him tonight. Slowly, he started unbuttoning his teaching robes, his eyes steadfast on her.
"Hermione, I'll shout it from the Astronomy Tower if that's what it takes to appease you," he promised fervently, his eyes running over her wild hair and silky skin, her ample curves and the lacy fabric that covered his favorite bits.
"I think a kiss goodnight should do it, Severus. Oh… you've already given me one of those." She smiled evilly. "Well then, goodnight. See you at breakfast?" With that, she pivoted on her heel and gracefully entered her bedroom. He heard the lock click.
Nostrils flaring, a furious glare aimed at the door, he stomped out of her rooms and headed to the dungeons.
The next morning, he escorted Hermione down to the Great Hall, pulled out her chair for her at the High Table, and held her hand the entire meal – thanking the higher powers he was ambidextrous. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22235 | young & stupid
by crystallicrain
notes: They kissed! I'm not really sure what this is. Didn't know how to end it, so I hope you enjoy it anyway.
At this point, Kurt is ready to settle—not give up, but settle. Because honestly, being friends with the boy really isn't so bad. He is so used to the idea that Blaine only sees him as a friend, as a mentoree, and except for a few crushing, confusing moments, their time spent as just friends really hasn't been that bad—in fact, it's been great.
And honestly, just because he's mad about Blaine doesn't mean that it has to be him. There's a cute boy in his precalculus who is always giving him crooked smiles and making witty remarks during class, and he's pretty sure his French partner has been studying to try to impress him when they work together. He could ask one of them to Breadstix for dinner or the Lima Bean for coffee. If he wanted to.
But when Blaine suggests they sing the duet at Regionals, Kurt decides to question it because, as thrilled as he is to finally have his chance to sing for the Warblers, he has a sinking feeling that, yet again, Blaine's ideas of 'friends' and 'more than' are blending together.
Except when Blaine is covering Kurt's hand with his own, and then closing all the space between them for a kiss—a real kiss, a kiss with a boy, a kiss that he wants—he realises that settling is probably the stupidest idea to have ever crossed his mind.
(Close behind is that it didn't have to be Blaine because, dear, sweet Cheesus, it had—has—to be Blaine.)
Because this, this is what his first kiss should have been like, so sweet yet passionate, a little bit awkward and clumsy, but that just makes it even more perfect. And vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind (which is reeling once he manages to utter words he can't even remember, but it's making Blaine kiss him again so he doesn't care) Kurt registers that Blaine doesn't taste like dip and burgers at all, but like cherry licorice and minty lip balm and it's way better than anyone could have told him.
The moment Kurt pulls away (which he only does because he's pretty sure he's forgotten how to breathe), Blaine murmurs Kurt's name, and the younger boy's heart flutters a little more because, oh Gaga, he's saying Kurt's name. Kurt didn't even know his name could sound like that. His lips chase back after Blaine's because, well, he's waited too long for this that he can't not be kissing him right now.
For a moment, as Blaine's mouth moves to Kurt's jaw, he wonders if it's too much too fast. But as he tries to reason with himself and rationalize what is happening, Blaine is nipping at his neck and a gasp escapes Kurt's lips, and he's back to thinking nothing but oh dear Gaga yes. He can't even bring himself to care that he'll probably be left with a mark because he can pull his collar a little higher or wear one of his fabulous scarves because this is Blaine doing this to him right now, and he's sure as hell not going to stop him any time soon.
Because, well, that would be up there with his stupidest ideas. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22236 | Okay, been awhile since I had the chance to write something, because of college and stuff. Sure, I write almost every day and all. It's just that it's all writing for a boring class I'd rather not take if I didn't need it to meet general education requirements. Anyway, I don't really know what else to say here, and I don't have anything to rant about for a change. (Crazy, I know!)
I have to say though, I really enjoyed writing this. It was super fun.
So let's just get to it then.
DISCLAIMER: This is a disclaimer. Pretend I bothered to look like I care about saying DF doesn't belong to me.
OUTSKIRTS OF FORT PASTOR – 9:30 PM (Going by Sherwin's last announcement)
Two men stood nearby the only open entrance into the (relative) safety of the outpost. One of them was carrying an unidentifiable assault rifle (Seriously, the thing had the crap modded out of it. I don't even know if you could call it an assault rifle anymore. I mean, last time I checked, assault rifles didn't barf heat-seeking mini rockets. Of course, this particular weapon didn't shoot rockets at all, let alone heat-seeking ones, so I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about. By modded I meant that it was just pink. Hot pink. Tacky hot pink. Why the hell would anyone want a hot pink assault rifle? Not a clue, just roll with it.), while the other seemed to be carrying nothing but a wooden baseball bat. The man with the baseball bat had it slung over his shoulder, while wearing a pair of smudged shades, leaning against a fence, trying to look all cool and bad-ass.
Although he was already a bad-ass. It's just that nobody notices your bad-assery unless you're also cool. Which is something he happened to lack. And no amount of cool-kid leaning on inanimate objects was going to help him any. In fact, in the long run, it would probably just lead to back problems.
But he doesn't need to know that.
Anyway, these two fine fellows were standing guard, doing things guard standing guard do. Like lean on things, call each other names, and pick their noses. Not as in picking each other's noses, because that would just be creepy.
For now on, up until they get a proper introduction with names, we'll just call them Pinky and Cool Kid.
It was a pretty calm night. There hadn't been any major zombie-related issues. Sure there was that one infected that somehow found a skateboard, learned how to ride it somewhat, and then charged at Pinky at full speed while riding it, but that was more of an annoyance, since it hit a loose rock and flung itself head-first into the side of a building and died from brain injury. Not all infected are created equally, and I guess some of them just have skulls that rival a wad of soggy toilet paper.
Then Pinky picked up the sound of shuffling footsteps coming from the muggy darkness that surrounded the outpost (And pretty much every single other place in the world that didn't have some sort of lighting at 9:30 in the night).
"Heey, you hear that?" Pinky said, daring not to look over at his current partner.
"Yeah," said Cool Kid, "Doesn't sound like one of them damn mutants though. Sounds like boots or something."
"But this late at night I doubt there would still be someone dumb enough to stay that far outside. Unless…OH MY GOD! WHAT IF THEY LEARNED HOW TO WEAR SHOES? WE'RE DOOMED! DOOMED I TELL YA!"
Cool Kid slapped his partner across the face. "Get it together man. Bad shit always happens if you don't keep your cool!"
Pinky calmed down just enough to see the outline of a human-shaped figure in the inky darkness.
"Oh Christ! It's here, right in front of us!" Pinky readied his gun, ready to shoot the entity full of metallic death.
"Cool it! Hold up a bit," Cool Kid demanded. He then turned towards the advancing figure. "If you understand, stop right where you are. Come any closer and this guy will reform your body into swiss cheese. "
"God damnit! I finally forgot about that stuff, and you bring it up again! DON'T TALK ABOUT FOOD I'LL NEVER GET TO EAT AGAIN!"
"Uh, whoops. Sorry 'bout that."
The human-shaped figure stopped without a sound.
"Oh. So you do understand, huh? Well I have to make sure you're not some super intelligent deathbringing zombie dude and all, so bear with me here." Cool Kid paused for a moment to think of a suitable task. "Wave for me."
The human-shape waved one of its appendages. More than likely its arm. Well hopefully its arm.
"Right. Uh, roll over."
"Dude, this thing isn't some pet dog or something," mentioned Pinky.
"Oh, right. Uh. I knew that. Erm, do an interpretive dance for me. I think that should verify things."
"What if it's a ballerina zombie or something?"
"Wait, they have those?"
"Hell if I know."
The human-shaped figure just shrugged.
"No idea how to dance? Me either. At least we ruled out you being a ballerina zombie."
"Just say something," declared Pinky.
"Damn. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Can I come in now?" said the mysterious entity.
"There, problem solved." Said Pinky.
Cool Kid turned to look at his partner. "Wait. How do you go from flip-out mode to calm, collected, intelligent mode so fast like that?"
"Oh," Pinky blinked. "I guess you're right. I didn't even notice."
"No really," said the mysterious entity. "Standing in the dark is starting to get annoying."
"Oh! Oh, right!" exclaimed Pinky, who had completely forgotten about the mysterious entity standing in the darkness. "Come on, come on."
Out of the darkness walked a priest, carrying nothing but the battle axe strapped to his back.
"Oh shit," said Cool Kid, "We left a priest waiting in the dark like that. We're so totally going to hell." |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22237 | As my heart starts to race, I know that I need to keep running. I don't know what I'm running from, but I can hear the pounding footsteps behind me. I have to be faster. Faster than whatever's behind me.
Shut the fuck up and let me think.
HOW CAN I LET YOU THINK WHEN THERE RIGHT BEHIND US? Besides your almost at the edge of the meadow. You can't out run it. Just give up already.
SHUT UP, JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME THINK. There has to be a way out of this without surrendering. I won't give up. I just won't have it.
Fine, but your only thirty seconds from having to face your bloody death. I'll guess see you in hell, hahaha...
I can only imagine the look on her face when she spat those last words to me, and as much as I hate to addmit that she was right, she was. The cliff, aproaching faster than I expected, has now become a way to end all endings, as well as my existance, but do I really want to die without knowing whats caused everything?
Time Slows. Leaving me confused as to why I have to make this choice. Either I die by falling down this thirty foot cliff or have to face it. Whatever it is. Im not letting it win. No fucking way. I spin around so fast that I almost lose my balance, but quickly recover, my feet sliding across the plains of grass, my body filled with rage, but what I see when I turn wasn't what I thought. Not in the slightest.
People. Just people. Staring at me as though I was crazy. Expressions frozen in fear and disgust. When I realize i'm no longer in a grassy meadow, but laying on broken glass in the middle of the street, screaming for someone to save me. From myself. Surounded by a warm, familiar smell. I see the blood pooling around my body, none of it mine. Then I see the car, torn to peices. I roll over surprised at the lack of pain, but what I saw made me freeze. Time stops. the people around me screaming at me. but I cant hear what they're saying. All I can hear is my heart shatter into a million peices when I see the decapitated bodies surounding me. |
global_01_local_0_shard_00000017_processed.jsonl/22238 | The Learning Curve: Outtake Three
Hanover, New Hampshire
As soon as I finished placing my last book on our brand new shelves in the living room, I took a moment to survey the day's work. The living room was bright with the sunset, golden light streaming through our western-facing windows. It was simple, but I loved the coziness – the plush sofa, the little armchair in the corner beside my books, the dining table squashed into the corner opposite the kitchen. But something was missing.
I drifted down the hallway toward our bedroom, where Edward had been working for the past two hours. When I walked in, my breath caught in my throat.
All of our furniture was now in place, the clothes put away, the bed made up. Edward was at the window, putting up our curtains.
"Are you almost done?" I asked softly, watching him fight with the swaths of fabric.
He turned quickly, wobbling precariously on his step ladder, making my heart jump in fear. But he found his balance and gestured to the safely hanging curtains. "Just finished."
After a brief appraisal, I noticed his hair was damp from sweat at the roots and that he had smudges from something on his fingers. I could feel my own griminess from sorting through dusty books.
"Do you want to take a shower?" I asked.
He nodded and hopped down from the ladder, and we went into the bathroom together. It was the first room we'd gotten set up, partly because it was the easiest and partly because it was rather essential.
In the shower, we mostly washed ourselves, taking turns under the spray to rinse. Soon, though, the lure of his firm shoulders was too much to resist, and it was only a short step from having my fingers touching him to having my whole body pressed against him. His mouth met mine, his tongue sweeping away drops of water on my lips. I felt his hardness trapped between us and pushed away slightly.
"In the bed," I said simply, and I needed only his eyes to tell me he understood. I wanted our first memory of making love in this place to be in the bed we would share for years to come.
When we were dried off, Edward scooped me up and laid me back on our plush mattress, covered in soft cotton sheets. He kneeled near the end of the bed and lowered his head to put his mouth intimately against me. Not until I was burning with need did he raise his body over mine and enter me.
Edward was in a slow mood, and the room was dim with twilight when his release claimed him. I held him close to me, wanting to feel him near me even after my own climax.
Our bed was soft, easy to sink into, and I had no desire whatsoever to leave, but I made myself get up and follow Edward into the kitchen for a quiet dinner before we snuggled under the covers for the night.
Edward curled his warm body around mine, and I slept like a baby. |
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