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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50241
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Steam Greenlight is a magical land where anything is possible. Is there a genre or style of game you dearly miss? Chances are someone on Greenlight is looking to bring it back to life. In the case of Alpha Kimori Episode One, Sherman3D is looking to breathe new life into the classic JRPG. In order to do it, though, they need some serious upvoting.
The game takes place 50 years after an alien invasion on Earth, and humans have abandoned and regrouped on the planet of Kimori. There’s a faction of people who want to return to and reclaim Earth (Bidarians), and others who would rather stay on Kimori (Jinrians). Because settling differences in an amicable fashion does not make for a good game, the two groups have waged war against one another. You play as Rick, a Bidarian warrior who falls in love with a Jinrian princess named Yuki. It’s kind of like Romeo and Juliet, except in space.
Like the classic games that inspired it, Alpha Kimori Episode One features turn-based combat. There’s also a party system in place, and the ability to swap out characters as leaders of the pack. If you’re more a lover than a fighter, it’s possible to avoid a lot of battles, as the enemies are visible on the overworld map. As noted in our review, though, skipping too many can put you in a tough situation when you make it to the latter portion of the game.
Perhaps the most interesting part of Alpha Kimori Episode One‘s development saga is that it was created using RPG Maker. In fact, it was the first ever game chosen to ship with the program, as an example of sorts of what it’s capable of. And if such humble origins have you concerned about the quality of the game, it should be noted that all of Alpha Kimori Episode One‘s graphics and resources were custom made.
It’s clear a lot of work went into the game’s visuals. It subscribes to the 16-bit school of design, but many of the characters and assets feature a level of detail you rarely saw in that era. Granted, that was due to technical limitations, but that doesn’t make it any less awesome to see in Alpha Kimori Episode One.
The Alpha Kimori series is intended to be a trilogy, and both episodes 1 and 2 have been released in locations aside from Steam. We fell in love with both entries when they were originally released, so we can’t help but support Episode One‘s quest to arrive on Steam. If you fancy yourself a fan of JRPGs, and have a second to click a button (and of course you do), consider helping the game out!
Click here to vote yes for Alpha Kimori Episode One on Steam Greenlight
Greenlight Spotlight is a featured series on Gamezebo that profiles Steam Greenlight candidates that deserve your vote. We’re doing this in the hopes of calling attention to interesting projects that would benefit from distribution on Steam, so please, if a game looks like something you’d want to play, don’t hesitate to lend it your support!
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50300
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A small box showing either todays date or the time
A small box showing either todays date or the time
Title bar, reading Acid Rain
Acid rain
All rain is slightly acidic, but the term Acid Rain is used to describe rain that has mixed with a range of industrial pollutants and become far more acidic that it could normally become.
Air borne pollutants such as sulphur dioxide, nitrogen oxides and assorted hydrocarbons react in the air with sunlight and water to form nitric acid, sulphuric acid and assorted other mineral acids and ammonium salts.
Unfortunately, nature does not provide a water filter in the atmosphere that is able to remove most of these pollutants and the result creates an acidic water can be carried thousands of miles by the wind before it falls to earth as rain, snow, fog or as dry particles which settle out due to gravity.
The biggest source of the 'acid rain' chemicals that pollute the atmosphere is the burning of fossil fuels. Fossil fuels were created from organic ( animal and plant ) material that died millions of years ago. The original material was full of carbon, and it's decay created sulphur, so the coal, oil and gas we burn today are rich in hydrocarbons and sulphur.
We burn these fuels in power stations to make electricity, in factories and oil refineries to make plastics and similar products, and in our vehicles which produce huge amounts of nitrogen and carbon gasses.
In recent years there have been some efforts to reduce the amount of pollutants that we pump into the air, but these efforts have been too small and too late to stop vast amounts of damage occurring across the world. Even though we know that acid rain is dangerous to us and the planet, we still produce all the chemicals that cause it.
In some parts of the world scientists have recorded rain that was more acidic than vinegar. Animals, plants, and even some rocks cannot survive when they come into contact with something so acidic. In Greece, the famous Parthenon is being dissolved by the rain that lands on the rocks from which it is made. In India, the Taj Mahal is suffering the same problem.
This photograph shows a small section of masonry from a church in northern France.
The rock was originally a smooth pillar like structure forming part of the outside decoration of the building. Over the last hundred years or so, acidic rain water has constantly dripped onto the rock from a rain gutter several meters above it.
The acidic rain has slowly dissolved away those parts of the rock that were richest in calcium carbonate, leaving behind the more resistant areas. Whilst this sort of weathering can give a building an attractive 'weathered' appearance it can also be a serious threat to the structure .Weakened building stone can lead to sections of the structure falling off, waterproof roofing starting to leak, and even result in major collapses.
Next time you visit a church or similar old building, take a close look at the outside stonework. Many buildings will have undergone repairs, giving you an opportunity to see both weathered sections and new replacements that show how the stonework would have looked when it was new.
Graveyards are also good hunting grounds for evidence of acid rain weathering; with dates on stones it's even possible to see how long it takes for a rock to weather!
In Sweden, over 18,000 lakes have become so acidic due to acid rain that all the fish have died. Some success has been achieved by dumping vast quantities of rocks like limestone into the lakes, because these rocks destroy the acid, but for most of the lakes it will be many years after we stop producing acid rain before the water returns to normal.
In what used to be called West Germany the government discovered that more than 70,000 square kilometers of forests had died because of acid rain. In the old East Germany, the damage was even worse due to factories creating much more pollution. It is not always the country that produces the pollution that suffers from the acid rain. For example, industrial pollution from the United Kingdom is blown across the sea and falls as acid rain over Norway and Sweden.
Acid rain is not just a European problem; it occurs around the world. In North America thousands of lakes along the eastern coast are so acidic that fish cannot survive any longer, and at least 10 percent of the lakes in the Adirondack region have a pH value of five or less. ( A pH of 7 is neutral, pure water. Lower values are acidic, higher values are alkaline. )
In the Appalachian Mountains a World Resources Institute report in the late 1980's stated that the acidity of clouds on the mountains was 100 times greater than it would be if it wasn't polluted. In consequence, trees were dying.
With all this damage, why do we still produce so much pollution and continue tolerating acid rain? Well, it's basically because governments don't consider it important enough. They believe that other things are more important, such as making sure that industry continues to grow and that the prices of goods are kept as low as possible. Making factories cleaner costs money, and unless everyone does it, the clean factories wont be able to make goods as cheaply as the dirty ones,and will make less money.
Developed countries also make huge profits from the exploitation and sale of the fuels that produce the pollution. The technology exists to run all our cars and lorries on other 'cleaner' fuels, but the oil companies wouldn't want that to happen, and neither would the governments that tax the oil companies!
The USA and Britain have both been particularly active in blocking and watering down a range of international agreements to reduce atmospheric pollutants.
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This page can be found at:
Last update to this statement was on: March 26, 2013
© Copyright Geography Site
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50318
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Web Toolbar by Wibiya
More Friends = More Fun
Tweets !
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Mememe6's Profile
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My Clubs
All About Me!
1. Cancer/Leo
2. friendly, funny, wild
3. 621
4. green
In A Nutshell...
1. band
2. ballet
3. baseball
4. hanging out with friends
5. karma my dog <3
6. great listener
7. raspberries
8. stories and poems
9. Michigan
My Faves…
1. Red Sox games and The Office
2. Harry Potter
3. Matchbox 20
4. Hunger Games
5. tetris
Style Sense
1. T.J. Maxx
2. cherry coke heehee
3. hoddies and jeans
1. I've had one, but not anymore
2. not sure...
3. Just someone who loves me for who I am and they are willing to work for me and treat me right. I tend to like blondies too :P
4. Rob Thomas
1. author
2. Boston or Denver
3. Europe or Australia
4. travel the world
5. it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks of you, only what you think of yourself
1. nighttime all the way
2. vanilla
3. Righty
4. Theater is fun, but I like home movies too. The popcorn is cheaper :)
5. I'm right in the middle
My Healthy You Profile
1. Fitness Faves
going for a run
2. soccer or softball
3. anything by Rob THomas, Matchbox 20 and Counting Crows
4. never workout on a full or empty stomach or in the heat
5. Goal Girl
to stay the way I am
6. training for soccer
7. my mom, she's going to run a marathon
8. my mom is an athlete right?
9. Tasty Eats
fruit or almonds
10. my smoothie recipe
11. Eat them. If you eat them in moderation and work out regularly, you'll be fine. I don't crave them very often so...
12. how to lose weight, and all that kind of stuff, getting healthy.
13. boys and friends
14. yes
16. My Healthy You Journal
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50329
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12-michigan_sm.jpgWhat slang do you and your friends use? In Michigan, we used TONS of slang. My two favorites were...
* Salty = If someone is cranky for no real reason, they would be salty. Used in a sentence: "We were only ten minutes late for the party, and he got all salty."
* Roast = If a girl or guy is smoking hot, they are a roast. (I know, it sounds like a bad term, but it's actually good!) Used in a sentence: "My English professor is such a roast, I can't concentrate on his lectures."
Where are you from, and what slang do you use? (Dude? Psyched? Rad?!)
P.S. My British cousin talks about her most awkward sexual experience--complete with English slang! What's your family nickname? And what nicknames do you and your boyfriend call each other? (We hit the streets of New York and asked that question...)
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50354
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GM Truck Club
Results 1 to 2 of 2
1. #1
Default 2005 silverado w/ CJ2 & YP9 w/R Defrost Has NEW control, still misdirects AC and Heat
It started 2 weeks ago, when fan would not turn up past low, went to shop, they checked core resister and it was good. He then love taped controler and it turned up fan!?! Said, If it keeps happening, you need New controller. It did keep happing and I got new controler. It did not fix the problem. sometimes it works just fine, but slow to respond. Other times it puts heat out 1 side, Air out other. And a few times I had to pull fuse to turn off fan, even after truck was off, key out, and door shut. Now I am in North Carolina and this shop says (w/no diagnostic) says it must be the module that controls air doors?!?!
HELP, Please
SpamLess/bob b
2. #2
I had a similar problem with my 05 Silverado. Took it to the dealer and it was a recall issue. I can't for the life of me remember what it was that caused the problem, but it was initially going to be around $500 worth of work.
2008 Ext. Cab Silverado LT1 5.3L 2WD
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50355
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4. lastcomm
lastcomm prints out information about previously executed commands. If no arguments are specified, lastcomm will print info about all of the commands in the acct file (the record file). If called with a command name, user name, or tty name, only records containing those items will be displayed. For example, to find out which users used command `a.out' and which users were logged into `tty0', type:
lastcomm a.out tty0
This will print any entry for which `a.out' or `tty0' matches in any of the record's fields (command, name, or tty). If you want to find only items that match ALL of the arguments on the command line, you must use the '-strict-match' option. For example, to list all of the executions of command `a.out' by user `root' on terminal `tty0', type:
lastcomm --strict-match a.out root tty0
The order of the arguments is not important.
For each entry the following information is printed:
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50356
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3.3.2 Basic Expression
A basic expression can have one of the following forms:
A single quoted string. Backslashes can be used to protect single quotes ('), hash characters (#), or backslashes (\) in the string. All other characters of STRING are output as-is when the single quoted string is evaluated. Backslashes are processed before the hash character for consistency with the definition syntax. It is needed there to avoid preprocessing conflicts.
A double quoted string. This is a cooked text string as in C, except that they are not concatenated with adjacent strings. Evaluating "‘STRING’" will output STRING with all backslash sequences interpreted.
A back quoted string. When this expression is evaluated, STRING is first interpreted as a cooked string (as in ‘"STRING"’) and evaluated as a shell expression by the AutoGen server shell. This expression is replaced by the ‘stdout’ output of the shell.
A parenthesized expression. It will be passed to the Guile interpreter for evaluation and replaced by the resulting value. If there is a Scheme error in this expression, Guile 1.4 and Guile 1.6 will report the template line number where the error occurs. Guile 1.7 has lost this capability.
Guile has the capability of creating and manipulating variables that can be referenced later on in the template processing. If you define such a variable, it is invisible to AutoGen. To reference its value, you must use a Guile expression. For example,
[+ (define my-var "some-string-value") +]
can have that string inserted later, but only as in:
[+ (. my-var) +]
Additionally, other than in the % and ?% expressions, the Guile expressions may be introduced with the Guile comment character (;) and you may put a series of Guile expressions within a single macro. They will be implicitly evaluated as if they were arguments to the (begin ...) expression. The result will be the result of the last Guile expression evaluated.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50358
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How about posting the ACTUAL code? Difficult to comment on the behaviour of code we can't see. Actually the output of
char path[256]
char file1[256]
will be a stack of syntax errors because this code is invalid.
After RTFM-ing on strlcat again, have a close look at the line
int file_len = strlen(file);
and have a think about what effect the third parameter will have on the line
strlcat(parent, file, file_len);
Incidentally, if you think that
char str[256];
will display 256, try running the code and see what you ACTUALLY get. Hint: it won't be 256, unless your implementation of strlen is broken.
If your second code sample "works" then I would suggest your implementation of strlcat is broken. strlen("testtt.dat") should be 10, so path should contain "./test/te" (9 characters visible, plus 1 for the terminating NULL) after the strlcat.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50362
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Video: Reverse Proxy DMZ Gateway
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by keeping sensitive data out of the DMZ while ensuring inbound ports
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In order to conduct business, trading partners still need to be able to connect and exchange data with your organization. But how can these partners securely upload or download information without exposing your networks and sensitive data?
GoAnywhere Gateway allows you to keep your sensitive data and user credentials in the internal network, and out of the DMZ. Since no inbound ports need to be opened into your internal network, GoAnywhere Gateway greatly reduces the risk of network intrusion.
GoAnywhere Gateway is an enhanced reverse proxy service which your trading partners connect to in the DMZ. Through a pre-established channel to a proprietary component in the internal network, GoAnywhere Gateway can then access internal services, such as a FTP server, securely… again, without opening inbound ports.
Internal systems are, in essence, masqueraded behind GoAnywhere Gateway. This secure solution will allow your organization to comply with strict regulations such as PCI DSS, HIPAA, SOX and state privacy laws.
GoAnywhere Gateway integrates with GoAnywhere Services to provide a secure and managed environment for hosting and exchanging files.
It supports most standard protocols including FTP, FTPS, SFTP, HTTP and HTTPS.
GoAnywhere Gateway is a software-only solution so no special hardware components are required. It can be installed to most operating systems including Windows, Linux, AIX, UNIX and Solaris.
Keep your network safe and data secure with GoAnywhere Gateway.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50368
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The Bible Slam: Genesis Chapter 31
With all of the speckled, streaked and spotted livestock Jacob was accumulating, his uncle Laban and male cousins were not too thrilled with Jacob, so he gathered up his wives and possessions and stole away. Unbeknown to Jacob, his wife Rachel stole some "images" from her father Laban.
Laban chases after Jacob and searches through the tents and possessions, looking for the "images." Rachel, who is menstruating, sits on them. No man is allowed to go near a menstruating woman in the Bible, so Laban doesn't find the images.
Laban and Jacob swear to not cross over a "heap" onto each others' land and go their separate ways.
Quick Tips & Navigation.
• {NEXT} Genesis Chapter 32 | {PREVIOUS} Genesis Chapter 30
Talking Points.
In the New Living Translation that Chev is reading from, the "images" mentioned in the King James version are idols. Despite God's hatred for graven images and idols, God appears to Laban anyway, in verse 24:
Leah and Rachel were "purchased" from Laban. Throughout the Old Testament, women are viewed as property and worth less than their male counterparts. Here's an interesting look from the BBC at medieval attitudes toward women which were based on religious doctrine and ancient teachings.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50384
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The Nuns teach him Tantra
yab yum
“If I’m not alone, then who are you?”
“Oh, I suppose you want an explanation? You can think of it as channeling. I used to be abbot of a great monastery in Tibet, not so long ago.”
“Of course, no one ever channels the charwoman. I suppose you have a story to tell?”
“Don’t make light of it. We were the most sought after monastery. Only highly intelligent, unblemished males were accepted.”
“What was the big draw?”
“We taught the most advanced Tantric practices. We partnered with a nunnery down the road for joint exercises.”
“Oh, I see. You were Hugh Hefner of Lhasa.”
“Hardly. We weren’t permitted to derive any pleasure from the practices.”
“I bet it took a lot of practice to overcome all desire.” I was quite skeptical.
“True, we practiced quite diligently. Until …”
“Until what?” He was finally grabbing my attention.
“Until that German expedition in 1944. Their researches had led them to believe in the hollow earth. They thought the entrance way was near our monastery.”
“Do you know why?”
“Yes, things were not going well in the war. They were looking for a place for all the upper level Nazis to escape to. There were a lot of ancient legends that led them to us.”
“So how did that affect you?”
“There was one fellow named Hans, a mathematician, whom we put up in the monastery. He brought a lot of material with him – treatises on quantum physics and mathematics. Interested in the Buddhist teachings, he taught us physics and math in exchange. Eventually, all the young novices became fascinated with the paradoxes of quantum physics, the recently published Gödel’s theorem, transfinite numbers, Hilbert’s problems.”
“Did that become a problem?”
“Most of the monks lost interest in the traditional teachings and began neglecting their Tantric practices.”
“Wow. Hans must have been quite charismatic. Why was that a problem?”
“I suppose it wasn’t for us. However, the nuns felt neglected and became quite irritable. When the abbess complained to the Dalai Lama, the investigation led to the termination of my position.”
“So what happened to Hans?”
“Oh, Hans. He built a small hermitage within walking distance of the nunnery.”
“Was that so he could teach quantum physics to the nuns?”
“Nah. It was so they could teach him Tantra.”
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50426
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Environmental degradation and loss of ecosystem services will directly affect pests (weeds, insects and pathogens), soil erosion and nutrient depletion, growing conditions through climate and weather, as well as available water for irrigation through impacts on rainfall and ground and surface water. These are factors that individually could account for over 50% in loss of the yield in a given “bad” year. The interactions among these variables, compounded by management systems and society, are highly complex. A changing climate will affect evapo-transpiration, rainfall, river flow, resilience to grazing, insects, pathogens and risk of invasions, to mention a few. In the following section we attempt to provide for each variable, rough estimates of how much environmental degradation and loss of some ecosystem services could contribute to reducing yields by 2050. This is based on peer reviewed studies, models and expert judgment, and with the understanding that conditions and estimates vary considerably and relationships are highly complex.
Unsustainable practices in irrigation and production may lead to increased salinization of soil, nutrient depletion and erosion. An estimated 950 million ha of salt-affected lands occur in arid and semi-arid regions, nearly 33% of the potentially arable land area of the world. Globally, some 20% of irrigated land (450,000 km2) is salt-affected, with 2,500–5,000 km2 of lost production every year as a result of salinity (UNEP, 2008). In South Asia, annual economic loss is estimated at US$1,500 million due to salinization (UNEP, 1994).
Figure 16: Losses in land productivity due to land degradation. (Source: Bai et al., 2008).
Nutrient depletion as a form of land degradation has a severe economic impact at the global scale, especially in Sub-Saharan Africa. Stoorvogel et al. (1993) estimated nutrient balances for 38 countries in Sub-Saharan Africa. Annual depletion rates of soil fertility were estimated at 22 kg nitrogen (N), 3 kg phosphorus (P), and 15 kg potassium (K) per ha. In Zimbabwe, soil erosion alone results in an annual loss of N and P totalling US$1.5 billion. In South Asia, the annual economic loss is estimated at US$600 million for nutrient loss by erosion, and US$1,200 million from soil fertility depletion (Stocking, 1986; UNEP, 1994).
Kenya land use and rain-use efficiency
Sub-Saharan Africa is particularly impacted by land degradation. In Kenya, over the period 1981–2003, despite improvements in woodland and grassland, productivity declined across 40% of cropland – a critical situation in the context of a doubling of the human population over the same period (Bai and Dent, 2006). In South Africa, production decreased overall; 29% of the country suffered land degradation, including 41% of all cropland (Bai and Dent, 2007a); about 17 million people, or 38% of the South African population, depend on these degrading areas. (Source: Bai and Dent, 2007).
Trend in biomass in 1981–2003 (left) and in rain-use efficiency (RUE) in 1981–2002 (right). Decreases in RUE could be due to various factors, including degradation and run-off, soil evaporation, increasing depleted soils, overgrazing by livestock or other forms of range degradation.
Left map
Red urban
Yellow cropland
Green grassland
Purple woodland
Blue water
Right map
Red major decline
Yellow moderate decline
Green improvement
Erosion is very significant in land degradation. On a global scale, the annual loss of 75 billion tonnes of soil costs the world about US$400 billion/year (at US$3/tonne of soil for nutrients and US$2/tonne of soil for water), or approximately US$70/person/year (Lal, 1998). It is estimated that the total annual cost of erosion from agriculture in the US is about US$44 billion/year or about US$247/ha of cropland and pasture (Lal, 1998). In Sub-Saharan Africa it is much larger; in some countries productivity has declined in over 40% of the cropland area in two decades while population has doubled. Overgrazing of vegetation by livestock and subsequent land degradation is a widespread problem in these regions.
The productivity of some lands has declined by 50% due to soil erosion and desertification (Figure 16). Yield reduction in Africa due to past soil erosion may range from 2–40%, with a mean loss of 8.2% for the continent. Africa is perhaps the continent most severely impacted by land degradation (den Biggelaar et al., 2004; Henao and Baanante, 2006), with the global average being lower, possibly in the range of 1–8%. With increasing pressures of climate change, water scarcity, population growth and increasing livestock densities, these ranges will be probably conservative by 2050.
Global climate change may impact food production across a range of pathways (Figure 17): 1) By changing overall growing conditions (general rainfall distribution, temperature regime and carbon); 2) By inducing more extreme weather such as floods, drought and storms; and 3) By increasing extent, type and frequency of infestations, including that of invasive alien species (dealt with in a separate section).
Figure 17: Projected impacts of climate change. (Source: Stern Review, 2008).
The estimated impacts of changes in the general climate regime vary with the different models in the short to mid-term (2030–2050), but after 2050 an increasing number of models agree on rising negative impacts (IPCC, 2007; Schmidhuber and Tubiello, 2007). Many models have projected that the potential for global food production may rise with increases in local average temperature over a range of 1–3ºC (before 2050), but above this range (after 2050) may decrease (IPCC, 2007; Meehl et al., 2007). Model projections suggest that although increased temperature and decreased soil moisture will act to reduce global crop yields by 2050, the direct fertilization effect of rising carbon dioxide concentration (CO2) will offset these losses. The CO2 fertilization factors used in models to project future yields were derived from enclosure studies conducted about 20 years ago. Free-air concentration enrichment (FACE) technology has now facilitated large-scale trials of the major grain crops at elevated CO2 levels under full open-air field conditions. In those trials, elevated CO2 enhanced yield by about 50% less than in the enclosure studies. Hence, previous projections of no impact or even a slight positive impact of increasing CO2 on global agricultural production by 2030 and 2050 may be too optimistic (Long et al., 2006). Current research results conclude that while crops would respond positively to elevated CO2 in the absence of climate change, the associated impacts of high temperatures, altered patterns of precipitation, and possible increased frequency of extreme events such as droughts and floods, will likely combine to depress yields and increase production risks in many world regions (Tubiello and Fischer, 2006).
Furthermore, projected changes in the frequency and severity of extreme climate events are predicted to have more serious consequences for food and food security than changes in projected mean temperatures and precipitation (IPCC, 2007). Also, regional differences will grow stronger with time (Parry et al., 2005), with potentially large negative impacts in developing regions but only small changes in developed regions (IPCC 2007; Slater et al. 2007). Developing countries are more vulnerable because of the dominance of agriculture in their economies, the scarcity of capital for adaptation measures, their warmer baseline climates and heightened exposure to extreme events (Tubiello and Fischer, 2006; Brown and Funk, 2008).This will aggravate inequalities in food production among regions (Parry et al., 2005).
Figure 18: Projected losses in food production due to climate change by 2080. (Source: Cline, 2007).
Regional impacts will be strongest across Africa and Western Asia where yields of the dominant regional crops may fall by 15–35% once temperatures rise by 3 or 4º C (Stern Review, 2006). Sub-Saharan Africa is expected to be worst affected, meaning the poorest and most food insecure region is also expected to suffer the largest contraction of agricultural production and income. Despite the uncertainties regarding short-term effects, models do point to many cases where food security is clearly threatened by climate change by 2030, with losses in major crops by this time (Lobell et al., 2008).
There is wide variation in how individual species in different regions respond to a warming climate and Lobell et al. (2008) identified 3 general classes of crop responses to climate change projections: 1) Consistently negative, for example, Southern African maize; 2) Large uncertainties ranging from substantially positive to substantially negative, for example, South Asian groundnut; and 3) Relatively unchanged, for example, West African wheat. Adaptation to climate change by switching from highly vulnerable to less vulnerable crops may be viable, and is recommended particularly for South Asia and South Africa where the case for adaptation is particularly robust (Lobell et al., 2008).
The impacts on crops are also highly variable in different regions and on different types of crops. For example, in Southern Africa, declines in production of 15% for wheat and 27% for maize in the absence of any agricultural adaptation to climate change have been projected by Lobell et al. (2008). The effects of extreme weather are not included in these estimates. In addition, these effects are projected to 2030 only, when the impacts of climate change would be only just emerging. Increasing our understanding how crops may be impacted under climate change conditions may provide alternatives for adaptive strategies in the most vulnerable regions of the world (Lobell et al., 2008).
Figure 19: Impacts of climate change on cereal output in Africa. (Source: Fischer et al., 2005).
Based on a consensus estimate of 6 climate models and two crop modelling methods, Cline (2007) concluded that by 2080, assuming a 4.4° C increase in temperature and a 2.9% increase in precipitation, global agricultural output potential is likely to decrease by about 6%, or 16% without carbon fertilization. Cline suggested a range of output potential decline between 10 and 25% among regions. As climate change increases, projections have been made that by 2080 agricultural output potential may be reduced by up to 60% for several African countries, on average 16–27%, dependent upon the effect of carbon fertilization (Figures 18 and 19). These effects are in addition to general water scarcity as a result of melting glaciers, change in rainfall patterns, or overuse.
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Unleashing God's Truth, One Verse at a Time
Paul's Ministry: Fulfilling the Word of God
Colossians 1:24-25
Code: 2137
Paul's Ministry: To Fulfill the Word of God
I'd like to have you turn in your Bible to the first chapter of Colossians. For those of you who are visiting, I would just say that we at Grace Church are committed to studying the Scripture, and that means that we just go from book to book. We've been studying now for the seven years that I've been here through the New Testament on the Lord's Day and through the Old Testament in our midweek Bible studies. And we find ourselves in a very, very important book called the book of Colossians.
This little book, it isn't very long, it's only four chapters, was a letter written by the Apostle Paul, who wrote thirteen of the New Testament books. It was written to a group of believers in a city called Colossae; not a city of tremendous importance, but nevertheless a city of some significance, and in that particular city there was founded a little church. The man responsible was a man named Epaphras,and apparently he was the initial pastor of that small congregation in that city, a city that was in a triad of cities, including Laodicea, Heropolis, as well as Colossae in the Lykus Valley. The apostle Paul is writing to them because they are undergoing some problems. The Church is being confronted with some people who are teaching false doctrine about the person of the Lord Jesus Christ, and it's very important that the apostle Paul write this letter to straighten them out.
Now as you know, if you've been with us for our study of the first chapter, Paul has just finished, as we come to verse 23, he has just finished a powerful statement on the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is really a refutation of the false teachers who were denying Christ's deity ‑‑ that is, denying that He was God, denying His power to save. They had said that Christ was not God, that He was just one of many spirits equal to many other spirits, and that He alone could not reconcile man to God; He alone could not bring men into fellowship with God. And Paul denies that. Paul says Christ is greater and far beyond any other created being. He is not just like other spirits or other angels, or other beings. Verse 15 of Chapter 1 through verse 19 of Chapter 1 is a statement regarding who Jesus Christ is. He says He is the image 'of the invisible God, the first‑born of all creation or the prototicas, the primary one of all. For by Him were all things created in heaven and earth, visible or invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions or principalities or power and of course those are all designations of angels, and different ranks of angels, all things were created by Him and for Him; He is before all things. By Him all things hold together. He is the head of the Body, the Church. He is the beginning, the prototicasfrom the Dead, the primary one resurrected, that in all things He might have the pre‑eminence, for it pleased the Father that in Him shall all fullness dwell. Now there is a great statement concerning the fact that Jesus Christ is God, that He is unique, that He is singly the one that God has ordained to rule the world and rule the Church and rule the universe.
Secondly, the heretics had denied the power of Jesus Christ to save men. And in Chapter 1:20‑23 Paul says that Christ is able to reconcile to bring men to God. In verse 21, "you who were once alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now has He reconciled". And so in this statement from verse 15‑23 Paul is finalizing in simple terms the truth about Christ. He is God, and He is able to save. That's great truth.
Now you'll notice that verse 23 ends with the word "minister". Paul has said that regarding this truth about Christ that he has just spoken he was made a minister. The term "minister", then, triggers Paul's thoughts for the next section, because in verses 24‑29 he describes his ministry. He says, I am made a minister, and then he launches into a description of what that ministry involves, and it is a ministry to proclaim the Lord Jesus Christ, Frequently in Paul's letters, and I'm sure you've come across it time and time again as we have in our studies, frequently in his letters he stops to discuss his ministry.
Paul frequently says I am an apostle, I do this, I do this, this way, this is how I operate, this is how I function, and he makes a very, very strong point again and again and again and again of the style and type and approach of his ministry. He does it for many reasons. He does it for one reason to defend his right to speak for God. He says, from time to time I am a sent one from God. At the end of 23 he says, "I am made a minister." I didn't choose this ‑‑ I was made a minister. And this should give him some credibility. This should give him some punch in speaking to them. He says it then to defend his right to speak for God, or to establish his authority. He says it also to express the wonder that he has in his mind that God called him. He would agree with what Isaiah said when he was up here and said that the Lord has called him into the ministry, and that he didn't understand that, but it was something about which he was extremely excited. Now that's the way Paul is. He continually reiterates the truth of his ministry because it is such a thrill to him, it's more than just a defense, it's also something that is exciting to him. And he wants the people to hear him ‑‑ not as a self-styled, self‑appointed non‑credentialed teacher like so many that existed in the world, but he wants them to hear him as the spokesman for God. And so he repeatedly accredits his ministry.
Now remember that in the city of Colossae to which the letter was written there were false teachers undermining the Gospel. They were undermining the truth of Christ. And Paul comes right back at those people and defends it, and so he feels that he must accredit his ministry. He must state his right to be believed. He must say, this is who I am and this is what God has called me to do. Hear what I say. He wants them to listen with confidence, and so it's important for him to do that. In Chapter 1:1 he says "Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ, by the will of God." And that is a statement that he is a sent one from God, and here he adds more sock to that by detailing carefully his ministries so they will understand why he writes the way he does, and they will be more prone to believe what he says.
Now, as I began to look at this passage I kind of keyed in on the statement at the end of verse 27: "Christ in you, the hope of Glory...", and I thought well, I'm going to build around that theme. And so I got that in my mind, I began to study. And several hours of study went by in my mind and I realized that that is not really the theme of what he is saying. That is a theme in what he says, but it is not the theme. The theme that he has in mind through all of these verses is simply to present a detailed look at his ministry. And what I learned out of this passage was so exciting to me because really you have here eight different aspects of the ministry of the servant of God. Eight different aspects that should characterize the life of anybody who serves the Lord Jesus Christ, anybody who's called to teach or preach or minister within the framework of Christianity.
There are eight of these. Now tonight we're going to look at four of them, and next week we're going to look at the rest, the other four. And when it all comes together, you're going to get a beautiful pattern of the ministry as Paul views it. It's a tremendous portion of Scripture, because this is what he carefully does in these verses.
Now to begin with, point number one. The source of the ministry. As Paul looks at his ministry he wants to talk about the source of it, and that you see in verse 23 closing out the last portion in verse 25 as well. Notice the end of verse 23 that statement, "of which I, Paul" and of which in reference to the Gospel back in the verse in the middle of the verse, "the Gospel, which you have heard which was preached to every creature under Heaven of which I, Paul, am made a minister." The word "minister" is not a high‑fallootin' word, it's not an elevated term; it's a very, very low term. It's the word deakinos, which means "servant". "I am made a servant."
Now, how was Paul made a minister? How was he made a servant? Go back to the 26th chapter of Acts, and I want to show you something. Now remember that Paul never claimed to be a self‑styled apostle. Paul never claimed to have figured out one day when he sat down at his desk, "Let's see, I could be an alchemist, or I could be a horse‑breeder, or I could be a farmer, or I could be a mason building buildings, or I could be a minister. Now let me put all the pros and cons, blah, blah, blah, blah, let's see. If I become an alchemist, there's always the danger that I could blow myself up. If I'm going to be a horse‑breeder, there's always the danger that my horses won't come out very good, and so forth and so forth. He didn't do it that way. He, in fact, had pretty well decided what he wanted to be in his life, and that was, he wanted to be a Christian killer. And so he set about to do that. And everywhere he went he says he was breathing in and out threatening and slaughter and he was slaughtering Christians. And he was one day on the road to Damascus, doing what he normally did... just get up in the morning, 8 to 5, kill Christians (laughter), and he was on his way to Damascus; and in the middle of the trip, as he approached the city, he was blinded by a light from Heaven, God slammed him to the ground, he ate a mouthful of dirt, he woke up in his blindness and said, "Lord, what will You have me to do?" And the Lord said, "You are going to be an apostle to the Gentiles." Now, that is not working out your own career.
Now notice Acts 26:13. "At midday, oh King," and here he's telling Agrippa how it all happened, he's giving his personal testimony, "at midday, oh King, I saw in the way a light from Heaven..." I'm walking to Damascus; I saw a light from Heaven, "it was brighter than the sun. Shining round about me and them who journeyed with me, and when we were all fallen to earth, (the whole entourage went down) I heard a voice speaking to me and saying in the Hebrew tongue, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the thorns (or the goads)." When they used to have an ox working in a field, in order to keep the ox going in the right direction and not kick, they put pointed goads right against the heels of the ox, and if the ox kicked, too bad. So the ox learned, don't kick. And the Lord said, it's hard for you to fight against it, to resist me, to kick against me. And I said, "Who are you, Lord?" He recognized it was the Lord, wanted a more specific title. He said, "I am Jesus, whom you persecute. But rise, and stand on your feet, for I have appeared unto you for this purpose (now watch this next word) to make you a minister,"
Now Paul did not choose to be a minister, he was made a minister. And a witness of the things which you have seen, those things in which I will appear unto you. Delivering you from the people, from the gentiles unto whom now I send you. Paul, I have chosen you to go to the gentiles. You are now hereby made a minister. And I'll tell you, people, that's a pretty strong statement. And I can relate to that, as you know. That's exactly what the Lord did to me. Threw me out of a car going about 75 miles an hour, skidded me all over the place, woke me up when it was all done, and spoke to my heart and said, MacArthur, you are now in the ministry. And I said, "Right, whatever you say! You're going to fight like this, I quit." (Laughter) And that's precisely what happened, and I had three months in bed to let that decision sink into my heart.
The Lord makes ministers. His ministers are those who are called. He's done it throughout the Old Testament. Read the story of the prophets. You have no self‑styled, self‑appointed prophets. They're called of God.
Now Paul makes this clear again and again in his ministry, and in the 15th chapter of Romans in the 15th verse: "Nevertheless, brethren, (Rom. 15:15), 1 have written the more boldly unto you to remind you because of the Grace that is given to me of God that I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the gentiles," The reason I'm so bold in writing to you gentiles is because the Lord has made me a servant to you gentiles. I'm only carrying out my ministry. I'm only doing that which God has called me to do. In II Cor. 3:4, we read again: "and such trust have we through Christ toward God, not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything of ourselves, our sufficiency is of God (not that I'm self‑confident, he says). In other words, my confidence and my trust comes because my sufficiency comes from God. That's what he's saying. God has called me into this, and God has equipped me for this. II Cor. 4:4 "in whom the God of this age has blinded the minds of them who believe not lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them (the God of this age is Satan, he's blinded men's eyes) for we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus, the Lord, and ourselves your servants because of Jesus. It's Jesus that made me your servants. It's Jesus that drew me in this.
Look at the 5th chapter of II Cor. 18th verse: "and all things are of God who has reconciled us to Himself by Jesus Christ and given to us the ministry of reconciliation". If I preach that a man can be reconciled to God, it is because God has given me that ministry. I would say this ... you don't choose the ministry that God desires for you. God chooses it. You are either obedient or disobedient. In I Timothy we find in 1:12: "I thank Christ Jesus our Lord who has enabled me (listen) in that he counted me faithful, putting me into the ministry. Paul says, I'm here because he put me here. I Timothy 2:5 "There is one God, one mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself a ransom for all to be testified in due time." Listen, "for this I am ordained a preacher and an apostle, a teacher of the gentiles." It's been ordained of God. This isn't something that I whimsically chose. In II Timothy 1:11 it says: "Under which I am appointed a preacher and an apostle, a teacher of the gentiles", repeating the same three terms.
Now, who made Paul a minister? God. Who is the sourcethen of ministry? God. Whatever gifts you have received to operate within the Body of Christ, who gave you those gifts? According to I Cor. chapter 12 the Holy Spirit gives to all men severely as He will. It is the Spirit of God who manifests Himself in the gifts of the Spirit in order that we might minister. It is God who calls us, it is God who puts us in the ministry; it isn't something we choose. Notice again in Col. 1:25, because you have again in the same terms, Col. 1:25, it says: "...of which I am made a minister." Here it is again, "I am made a minister according to the dispensation or the stewardship of God, which is given to me for you to fulfill the Word of God." Notice this, I am made a minister according to the dispensation of God, which is given to me. Stop there.
The word dispensation, oikanammios, noikusis law, or rule. Oikas is house. It means to rule a house; it means to be a steward of somebody else's possessions. It means to rule for the houseowner, it refers to somebody given great responsibility. God owns His Church. It's His house, His temple, and God says I want to appoint you to rule in my behalf, in my Church. It suggests being a great estate to manage, the word does, "of which I am made a servant according to the stewardship", or if you want a goodword for that, according to the God‑given responsibility. "According to the God‑given responsibility which I have received." It's a divine office, Paul says. It's God's plan. It's God's Church. It's God's Gospel. It's God's Christ. It's God's message. It's God's truth. It's God's Word. And, he says, look, Paul. Will you manage it for me? I'm in the ministry because God has put me there. I'm a steward.
You remember our study of I Cor. chapter 4, don't you, a few weeks ago? Let a man so account of us as of the ministers of Christ, Paul says, there, of stewards of the mysteries of God. I'm a steward. A steward doesn't own anything; he manages something for somebody else. The houseowner would have a steward in those days who would manage his whole house. And this was when you had a large estate, and so that the houseowner could go anywhere he wanted, the steward would take care of everything ‑employment, wages, taking care of the supplies in the house, making sure everything was carried out ‑‑ a very great responsibility. So he says, we are stewards. Moreover, I Cor. 4:2 "...it is required of the stewards that a man be found what? Faithful." Just carry out the task. So Paul says, God has given me a task. God has given me a divine responsibility, and I'm obligated to fulfill it. God is the source of my ministry.
In I Cor. 9 a few weeks ago we studied a couple of verses that will give you a good insight on this. I Cor. 9:16: "For though I preach the Gospel, I have nothing to be proud of. I have nothing to boast about, to cause self‑glory. For necessity is laid on me, yet woe is unto me if I don't preach the Gospel. Remember we talked about that? Paul says, look, don't come up to me and say, "Oh, Paul, you're a minister. Oh, Paul, what a self‑sacrificing wonderful human you are. He'll say to you, "Look fella, I was going down the Damascus Road minding my own business, and I got thrown into this deal. Don't pat me on the back. I didn't ask for it, and now it's a situation wherein if I don't fulfill it, I'm in a lot of trouble. So don't pat me on the back about it, I had nothing to do with it. Probably a lot more responsibility than I want anyway. He says in verse 17, if I did it willingly, then I would have a reward, but it's against my will. It's strictly a responsibility that's been committed to me, that's all. It's something given to me, and I didn't ask for it, but I'm in a lot of trouble if I don't fulfill it, so don't pat me on the back ‑‑ pray for me!
In Gal. 2:7 Paul says, on the contrary, when they saw that the Gospel of the uncircumcision or the Gospel that goes to the gentiles was committed to me, we'll stop right there. That's all we want is that phrase. He says, the Gospel to the gentiles was committed to me, I didn't have any choice. In Ephesians, Chapter 3, he says: "...for this cause I, Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ for you gentiles, if you have heard of the dispensation or if you have heard of the responsibility that God has given me, how that by revelation he made known to me the mystery, and then he said in verse 7 of which I was made a minister, by His grace. In other words, you must know that God has called me and God has made me a prisoner of Christ. I'm chained to Christ, I can't get away. I've got this tremendous responsibility to reveal the truth that God gives me to dispense the mysteries, those are the truths of God's word. I was made a minister. In Titus 1:7 "A bishop must be blameless as the steward of God." Anybodyin the ministry. Bishop means a pastor, not what we call an ecclesiastical bishop, (the term just has to do with a pastor, an elder) is to be a steward of God.
God has called us to a tremendous responsibility. And that's why, no matter who you are as a Christian, the Spirit of God has given you certain gifts, and if He's given you those gifts He's called you to minister those gifts and you need to do that. It's a serious responsibility. If you possess a gift of the Spirit then you possess something that belongs to God, and you are to minister that. You are to dispense it to those in need of it. I Peter 4:10: "...as every man (that's all of us) has received the gift, even so minister the same one to another as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. Every Christian has received spiritual gifts. We're going to get into this in the 12th chapter of Corinthians in the morning, soon. Every Christian has received gifts. If you have, then minister them. As a good steward, as a steward you hold that gift, bit it isn't your own. You're going to use it and manage it for God's glory. If you have a speaking gift, then speak as the oracles of God. If you have a serving gift, then serve with the ability that God gives, that God may be glorified. The source of all ministry is God. We don't choose that.
And so what am I saying? I'm saying that you had better examine your own heart to see what God has called you to do. You had better search your own heart to see what your spiritual gifts are, There are diversity of gifts, but the same Spirit, differences of administration but the same Lord. Diversities of the operations but it is the same God working in all, There are different gifts here. Every one of you are different. But you've been given a stewardship, and it's from God, and he's the source of that calling and the source of that gift, and you'd better use that thing, because you're a steward of it. Some day when you face Jesus Christ the record of your stewardship is going to be what did you do with the gifts you were given? Are you going to be like the servant who buried it in the ground and said, I knew you were tough to handle, so I just buried it and held on to it, or are you going to be the kind who multiplied stewardship? So in any ministry, whatever it is, God calls us, God equips us, God assigns us. Maybe not as dramatically as the Damascus Road experience that Paul had, but just as truly. But you say, John, how do you know God is calling me to the ministry? You'll get the message if He's calling you, believe me. One way or another. You need to be listening and then responding like Paul did with the words: "What will you have me to (what?) to do." So the source of the ministry is God. He says, I am made a minister, verse 23. Verse 25, 1 am made a minister according to a God‑given responsibility.
Second, and this is really neat, he not only talks about the sourceof the ministry but the spirit of the ministry. As we serve the Lord Jesus Christ, recognizing God has called us, what should be our attitude? What should be the spirit in which we serve? Verse 24, watch this. I'm just going to read three words..."who now (what's the third word?) rejoice." What's the spirit of the ministry? A word with three letters, JOY. The spirit of the ministry is joy. Whatever our ministry is, we are to enjoy it. That's a sad reality, I think, that many ministering Christians don't have the right attitude. Do you know that? There just aren't enough joyous Christians. There just aren't enough happy Christians. It's like the little girl who saw the mule and said with a long face like that it must be a wonderful Christian (laughter).
You know, there are a lot of people that have been given a tremendous responsibility by God, but they grudgingly carry it out. You know I mean, what do you do? "Oh... I'm serving the Lord...," you know. It's just agonizing. Where's the joy? It's a sad reality that many pastors have lost the joy of the ministry. They don't have the right attitude. They get like Jonah, you know? Even when it goes good they're hesitant, angry, they're reluctant, bitter, resentful. You say, yeah, but I've got it taught in my ministry. It's hard to have joy. Oh? Think of this one. If you ever think you've got it tough in your ministry and you can't find joy, listen to these words. "Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joythat was set before Him (what?) endured the Cross, despising the shame. Why did He do it? For the joythat was set before Him. Jesus never lost the joy of what He was doing. Never. Never. Why should you? You haven't suffered unto blood yet, he says, or you haven't died in your service. Oftentimes you'll talk to somebody, even another pastor, who'll say, "Oh, I've lost the joy of the ministry." You know what that means? That doesn't mean to me that they've got bad circumstances, that means they've got bad connections, see. Because you don't lose the joy unless you lose the Lord, and if you lose the Lord, I've got to redo my theology?
See, there's joy in the ministry, Oh, it's easy to get discouraged with circumstances. Paul was, He said, I have continual sorrow and heaviness of heart concerning my people Israel, but he
never lost the internal joy. We've talked about this. The element of personal joy was the spirit of his ministry. Everywhere he went he was rejoicing. You realize when he wrote the Philippians‑ he was rejoicing, and‑most likely he was in jail? And I've told you about that Jail. It was a hole in the ground. In the prison they just dropped prisoners in that place and when they got 40 in there they'd open the sewage, the sewage would run in and drown them all, they'd let it drain out and then they'd start with another 40. And that's where he was when he wrote, "rejoice always, and again I say rejoice," Somebody was probably sitting there saying this guy is out of his mind. What's he so happy about? It had nothing to do with circumstances. He had a relationship with the living God that was perpendicular and transcended beyond all circumstances.
I told you a few weeks ago, joy is the deep down confidence that God is in control of my life, and that doesn't change. That's where the joy comes. Whenever I, see somebody who's lost the joy, I don't worry, I don't want to talk about if something's happened with the Lord. Paul's joy was generated because of what Christ had done for him, and I'll tell you something else. Keep this in mind. Humility generates joy. You know something‑-humility, generates joy in this sense. Paul always thought of himself as so unworthy, that even having the privilege of dying for Jesus Christ was a cause for joy, because he didn't even think he was worthy of that. When you lose the joy is when you get to thinkingyou're too good tobe sufferin' what you're sufferin', or to be havin' it like you're havin' it. And that's the wrong perspective.And he says, "Hey, I now rejoice. You say, yeah, you know he was probably in a wonderful place. You know where he was? In prison, that's where he was. In prison. Remember him in the jail in Philippi? With his feet and his hands in the stocks, in the middle of the night in the inner dudgeon, what was he doing? Singing! Paul rejoiced even though he was bound by a chain in Rome. No circumstance could affect his deep down confidence that God was in control of his life, and boy, that brought satisfaction and the spirit of the ministry, beloved, is joy.
Christians ought to just be beaming with joy. In the midst of anything and everything, and that's what the world's gonna see, and they'll say, what's wrong with those people? I was reading Eristhenes, and he says, (he's a Greek and he's commenting on Christians) and he couldn't figure them out, and he says, it's amazing. He says, when a baby dies, they rejoice, for one who passes through the world without suffering. He said, when one of them dies, they carry his body through the streets and sing hymns of praise like someone who had simply taken a journey from one place to another. He couldn't figure it out.
Joyful Christians are absolutely dramatically effective on the world. The spirit of the ministry is joy. Colossians right here in chapter 2 verse 5, Paul's in jail in Rome here chained to a Roman soldier as he writes, he says, "for though I am absent in the flesh, yet I am with you in the spirit, joying and beholding your order in the steadfastness of your faith in Christ. Absolutely undaunted was this guy. Because his joy was always based on the perpendicular. In I Thessalonians he writes, I think it's chapter 2 there, verse 19, he says, "what is our hope? For joy, a crown ofrejoicing." Are not you in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ for you are our glory and joy. Listen, he rejoiced about God and he rejoiced about everybody else, and consequently what happened to him didn't matter. And you say, I don't care what I go through, when I see that you knowthe Lord Jesus Christ and that you're going to be there at the Second Coming, I'm so happy, I could care less about me. That's what he's saying. That little letter of Philemon in the 7th verse, he says, "we have great joy". And here he is a prisoner again when he wrote this; he always talks about joy when he gets in jail. Says, we have great joy, because the hearts of the saints are refreshed by you, brother. When I hear about you, Philemon, I'm so happy about you. He's always got his joy in his relationship to the Lord and then his relationships with people, and so it didn't matter what happened to him because he was totally, absolutely, unselfish.
When you see somebody without joy in the ministry, it's because they're selfish, and they think they deserve better than they've got, and if they really looked at their hearts they don't even deserve what they've got, right? That's why Paul kept his joy, because anything that came to him, even suffering, was something more than he felt worthy to receive. And I'll tell you something, once the joy is gone, you're in trouble, you're in a lot of trouble. Because everything you try to do is gonna be works, legalism, and have little effect. The beginning of the letter to the Philippians he writes, he says, again the same idea, he says, (he's in jail), so in verse 13 he says, "My bonds in Christ are manifested in all the palace." In other words, this is great being a prisoner because all these soldiers who get chained to me keep getting saved and they take the message back to the palace. "And many of the brothers in the Lord, becoming confident by my bonds, are much more bold to speak the Word." In other words, there are other Christians who can see what you can do as a prisoner who aren't so worried about it any more. They see that since I've been a prisoner, all kinds of people have been getting saved around the jail here, and so they're a little more bold to preach, figuring that if they wind up in jail they'll have a good time there too. And he says, you know there are other people who go around condemning me and saying that I'm in jail because the Lord had to put me on the shelf because I blew my ministry, and it's kind of a judgment on me and some people are trying to even add affliction to my bonds, he says in verse 16, in this kind of criticism, but some love me. But I don't care, verse 18 he says, "if Christ is preached in that I (what?) do rejoice, and I will continue to rejoice. The spirit of the man undaunted and the spirit of the ministry is joy.
What are the thieves that rob us of joy? What are the thieves that rob you of joy? Circumstances, people? People are thieves ‑‑ they steal joy, you know that? If you let 'em. Things? Worry, that's the worst thief, And what are the guards that protect your joy?, Humility, Devotion to Christ. Trust in God. Those things. You say, year, but maybe it was pretty nice where Paul was going to jail here. It wasn't too bad, maybe, that's why he had so much joy, Oh? Let's look at Colossians 1:24 again, "Who now rejoice in my sufferings'." Now wait a minute. Paul, you actually rejoice in your suffering? Oh yeah‑ Oh yeah. Why? Because they're for (what?) for you. And secondly, they fill up that which is behind or remaining of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh for His body's sake, which is the Church.
Now that is a very confused verse, as you first read it, Let me explain it to you, and this brings us to the third point, We've seen the source of the ministry, the spirit of the ministry; here's the suffering of the ministry. The suffering of the ministry. He says, I'm rejoicing in ny suffering, because it's for you, and also it fills up what is remaining of the afflictions of Christ, Now this has really been misconstrued, Now there are some people who say that Christ when He died on the cross did not finalize all suffering, This is, generally speaking, the 'Roman Catholic view, that more suffering is necessary to fill up that which remains of the suffering of Christ, and that's why they teach that the saints must suffer, And you'll find many people, there are some who are very devout, who wear belts with nails in them.
I knew a man who went years and years with thing like rocks in his shoe, and tacks. There are many, many people who go and light candles and so forth, and so on, in order to get people out of purgatory, because they have to go to purgatory to suffer awhile to atone for sin because they have to fill up that which remains of the suffering of Christ. That's where all that comes from, you see. That Christ's sufferings have to be supplemented by Paul and by you and by everybody else.
Now you say, what about the ones that are super good. Well, you see, if you're super good in this life, according to Catholic theology, you can get enough accomplished in this life to go right to Heaven, and then if you have any extra they'll put it into what's called the Treasure of Merit and apply it to somebody in purgatory who needs it, That's true. That's what's called the Treasury of Merit. And the idea is that you have to continue to suffer and suffer and suffer and so forth in order to expiate sin. You think that's what Paul's saying? Why, that would be a fatal blow to what he just said. Because what he just said was that Christ by the blood of His Cross, through His death, has presented us, verse 22, through death presented you what? Holy and unblameable and what? Unreprovable. Through His death. So Paul is not going to unsay everything that he has just said. And Paul is dealing with a heresy in Colossae that's insisted that Christ's death and Christ's life had to be supplemented by ascetism and human works anyway. He's certainly not going to say that. In fact, the word for affliction here is nowhere used to describe the atoning suffering of Christ. You say, well, what is he saying, All right, let's look at it.
"Who now rejoice in my sufferings for you." Now this, relates directly to him being a prisoner, as he is a prisoner when he writes Colossians. Chapter 4 tells us that as we find him in Rome and he makes certain references to his situation, we know without a shadow of a doubt that he's a prisoner. Now listen. In Acts 9:16 the apostle Paul was told something at the very beginning. This is the chapter that tells of his conversionthe 16th verse, "I will show him how great things he must (what?) suffer for my namesake." From the very beginning God said, Paul, you're going to pay a high price. You're going to be a prisoner of life. And you know what was so neat about Paul? He never sawhimself as a prisoner of Rome. Every time he talks about being a prisoner he says, I'm a prisoner of Jesus Christ. He always saw it that way. In Philemon 1: "Paul, a prisoner of Jesus Christ", Philemon 9: "Now a prisoner of Jesus Christ", Philemon 23: "my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, So he's always seeing himself not as a prisoner of the Romans, a prisoner of men, a prisoner of anybody but Christ, and all of this is a fulfillment of prophesy. So he says, hey, I rejoice in my suffering for you. It's what the Lord predicted. It just helps me to believe in Him more because it's exactly what He said would happen, I see it fulfilled. Why did he rejoice? Notice, "because my suffering is for you." Now the end of the verse 24, "it's for His body's sake, which is the Church." I'm suffering for your sake, For your sake. You say, in what sense?
Look at Philippians 1:29. "For unto you it is given in the behalf of Christ not only to believe on Him, but to suffer for His sake." To suffer for His sake. Paul says, it's not only my lot to suffer for Christ's sake, but yours too. I'm going to suffer for Him; you're going to suffer for Him, for His sake. That means because of Him. The early Church, buy they suffered. They really suffered. Paul says, I rejoice in this, I'm thrilled with it. You say, how can a guy be thrilled about suffering? Well, I'm going to give you five little thoughts here. Five causes for joy in suffering.
Number one, it brings us nearer to Christ. It brings us nearer to Christ. You know, Paul wanted to get as close to Christ as he could. ‑‑Philippians 3:10: "that I may know Him, the power of His resurrection, and the (what?) fellowship of His (what?) sufferings." You say in what sense, John? When we suffer for the cause of Christ, that is when the world casts it's slurs at us, and mocks our Christ, in a sense that suffering helps us to understand what Jesus went through, doesn't it? Because in John 15 and 16 Jesus says, if they hated Me, they're going to hate you. If I've suffered, you're going to suffer. And in II Timothy 3:12, all that live Godly in this present age are going to suffer persecution. And so it helps us to understand more about Him. It helps us, as Hebrews 13:13 says, to go outside the gate and bear His reproach with Him. So I think there's joy in suffering because it brings us nearer to the understanding of Christ.
Secondly, when we suffer it brings us the assurance of salvation. Suffering brings us the assurance of salvation, in a sense. I Peter 4:14: "If you are reproached for the name of Glory and Christ happy are you for the Spirit of God rests on you. In other words, when you suffer you have this tremendous confidence of the presence of the spirit of God. And that's a very assuring thing. So, suffering can bring joy to the apostle Paul, to any Christian because it identifies him with Christ because it brings him a sense of the presence of‑the Spirit of God which assures him that he belongs to God.
Thirdly, it brings a future reward‑. When you're willing to step out for Christ and be bold and speak the truth and suffer the consequences sometimes as we all have from time to time it promises a reward. Listen to Romans 8:18: "The sufferings of this present age are not worthy to be compared with the Glory which shall be revealed," Verse 17: "If so be that we suffer with Him we will be glorified with Him." There is a sense in which the suffering now will be rewarded in the day that we look forward to in the future. In fact, in II Cor, 4:17: "Our light affliction for this moment works a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."
So, suffering can bring joy because it identifies us with Christ, because it brings assurance of the presence of the Spirit of God, a confidence of salvation, it brings a future reward.
Fourthly, it results in the salvation of others. it results in the salvation of others, I can remember as I wrote in the book on "God's Will is not Lost" the time that I preached and I suffered I think at that point maybe one of the most difficult times of persecution in my life, and out of it people were redeemed. In Philippians 2:17 he says: "If I be offered as a sacrifice for your faith, I joy and rejoice." In other words, if I offer my life and you get saved that's joy. There's a price to pay, he says, but that's all right. The results are worth it.
So, we can rejoice in suffering because it brings us near to Christ, it brings assurance of salvation, it brings a future reward and it results in salvation for others.
And I think a fifth thing; I just have to throw this in. It leads to terrible frustration on the part of Satan because he's trying all he can to wack us around and all that comes out is good results. It puts a dent in the Kingdom of Darkness, In Acts 9:16 he says: "How many things you will suffer for His namesake." It'll come to His glory; it will bounce back to the glory of Christ.
Now, having said those five things, Colossians 1:24 adds another reason, and this brings us right to the text again, He says, I'm not only rejoicing in my suffering because it brings me nearer to Christ from other passages we gathered that, it gives me assurance of salvation, it brings a future reward, it results in the salvation of others, it frustrates Satan. But I am rejoicing because it fills up that which is remaining of the afflictions of Christ in my flesh. What he means is this, look; I am receiving in my body what is intended for Christ. This does not mean there is anything lacking in the atonement, it does not mean that there's some kind of short change in the value of the death of Christ, it means this. The enemies of Christ were never satisfied with what they did to Jesus, do you know that? They hated Jesus with an insatiable hate. They wanted to add to their, suffering. And as soon as Jesus ascended back into Heaven and He wasn't around any more, and the world hated Him so much, who did the world attack? The Church, didn't they? They began to persecute the Church and persecute the Church and persecute the Church, and why were they whipping the Church and burning the Church at the stake and throwing the Church to the lions ‑‑ why? Was it because they hated those individual personalities, no. It was because they stood in the place of Christ and since Christ wasn't around to get they got the people who stood in His place. That's what it means.
Paul is saying this, look: the world isn't done persecuting Christ, but since He's not here, whatever is lacking in what they want to do with Him I am receiving into my body and standing in His place who stood my place is a cause for joy. To take the blows meant for Him who took the blows meant for me makes me happy. If Jesus Christ could hang on the cross and take my sin and the punishment I deserve I think I can take a few punches for His sake. That's what he's saying. And you see, in that sense all Christians are in His place. As the enemies of Christ attack Christ they attack us, and what is left lacking in their minds in the affliction that Christ deserves they give to us and we ought to joyfully say, if I can take a blow for Jesus who took all the blows for me that's cause for joy.
You see, in Acts 9 Jesus said to Paul as he was on the Damascus Road, we read it in 26:2, he said: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou the Christians." Is that what He said? What did He say? "Why persecutest thou (what?) me." You see, when Saul killed Christians who was he really laying the blows to? Christ. But since He isn't here, Paul says when they do it now to Him, I take the blows. I fill up in my own flesh the afflictions the world intends for Christ. In II Cor. 1:5 Paul says, for as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, the sufferings in Christ abound in us. What a great statement. The world persecutes us ‑we bear His suffering. And he talks about it so many places. He says in Galatians 6:17, beautiful statement, I bear in my body the scars of the Lord Jesus. The blows that I've received have been taken because the world can't hit Him.
Paul says allof this, for your sake, for the Church. All of this to win you to Christ, All of this to mature you in Christ. All for you. You're the objective in this thing. I pay a price to win people to Christ. I pay a price to build the Church. They stone me. They beat me up. In II Cor. 11:23 he says what he has suffered: in stripes above measure, that is whippings, prisons more frequently, death often, of the Jews five times received I forty stripes except one (that's thirty‑nine stripes), three times I was beaten with rods, that's a whole big group of whip‑like sticks wrappedtogether that flail against the skin. Once I was stoned, three times suffered shipwreck a night and a day in the water, journeyings often, perils of waters, robbers, mine own countrymen, gentiles, perils in the cities, perils in the wilderness, perils in the sea, perils among false brethren, weariness, painfulness, watching, hunger, thirst, fasting, cold nakedness. He did all that for the sake of the Church and the whole time he ministered he worked to earn his own living in spite of all that and he not only earned his own living but the living of those people who traveled with him and he did every bit of that for the sake of the Church.
And he says, I'm willing to make a sacrifice, In Acts 20:22 and now he says, "I go bound to Jerusalem. I don't know what's going to befall me except the Holy Spirit tells me in every city that bonds or chains and affliction await me." I know when I get to Jerusalem I'm gonna get it. "But none of these things move me, neither count I myself dear to myself so that I might finish my course with (what?) joy. I will not allow my spirit to change because the spirit of the ministry is joy, and I'm going to finish this thing with joy, which I received of the Lord Jesus to testify the Gospel of the Grace of God, and I don't care what anybody does, it isn't going to change it. I'll suffer anything for the sake of the Church, I'm willing to build the Church at any price, even the price of my own life, and one day it was true. An axe came down in the sun and severed his head from his body, He says, I endure, in II Tim. 2.10, "I endure all things for the elects' sake, that they may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus. I'll do anything to get people saved, I'll do anything to make 'em grow. I'll go anywhere, I'll say anything that has to be done and has to be said. In confronting the lost and in building the body, he suffered. But after all, he said to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20:28, "you take care of this flock which the Lord has purchased with (what?) His own blood, and Paul always felt that if the Lord would shed His own blood for the Church Paul could shed a little of his for them too.
So he says, I'm not just a servant of the Lord, I'm a servant of the Church too, and I'll suffer. He cried. You know, it says in Acts 20 that he wept. That he cried over his ministry. Tears. He warned them night and day to tears. H suffered internally as well as externally ‑‑ not just persecution but internal anxiety over the Church. What is the sour e of the ministry? God. What is the spirit of the ministry? Joy. Suffering of the ministry ‑‑ it is the willingness to go out and accept the blows from the world that are meant for Christ and rejoice in it that you're even counted worthy to do it.
Fourth and the last thing we're going to talk about. Paul presents the scope of the ministry. This is beautiful. At the end of verse 25: "to fulfill the Word of God," Fantastic statement. The scope of the ministry: to fulfill the Word of God, or to give full scope to the Word of God, Paul is simply saying, I just want to do what He called me to do. What God has given me to do I want to do it. And so I will rejoice, because that's the right spirit. I will suffer because that has to be in fulfilling the scope of the ministry, Paul wanted to fulfill it. I just read you Acts 20 where he says, "none of these things move me, I don't count my life dear to myself, I just want to finish the ministry God has given me. That's all; I just want to finish it. That's the only thing he had on his mind was to finish the ministry with joy. And you know something? He did. And that man's ministry touches the world. You know it's still touching the world right now through the letters that he wrote? I just want to finish the ministry. I just want to do what He called me to do, to fulfill His Word. What does that mean? To fulfill the Word of God. I think primarily it means the Word of God directly to him that called him into the ministry.
Secondarily it means to fulfill all that the revelation of God is. To teach it all. I think what he's saying here is, I want to teach all the word of God to all of the people that God has called me to. The whole world? Not necessarily. But the whole Word to all the world that God sends me. I want to teach the whole Word to that world that God gives me. That's exactly what he has in mind.
Now, at the end of his life in II Tim. 4:2 and following he kind of talks about it. And when it's all over, he's just about to die, verse 7 he says this: "I have fought a good fight (I love it) I have finished the course, I have kept the faith." You fought all the way? Oh, yeah, I had to fight. It wasn't easy. And I never changed what I believed ‑‑ I kept the faith. And I (what?) finished the course. Wouldn't you like to say that? Wouldn't you like to come to the end of your life and say God, I'm done. I can leave now. Anytime you're ready. Hit the eject button. I'm ready, I'm done. How did he do it? How did the man fulfill it? How could a man ever finish the work God gave him? How is it possible? Because he said I just want to do one thing, now notice this. Fulfill the Word of God. I just want to do' what He called me to do. Give the whole Word to the people He's called me to reach.
I want to say something that's very important right here. I want you to get this. Some ministers, and I really see this, get so carried away at this point, and so can we as Christians, that they think they have to win the whole world. "I've got to fulfill it all ‑‑ they're going to be all over everywhere." You know what happens, their ministry is all over everywhere about that deep. It never does much of anything. You know, think about it. The apostle Paul affected the world and he's still affecting the world. You know, the guy only took three missionary trips. That's right ‑‑ three. You know that all three of those missionary trips went to the same places. Little tiny area in the Mediterranean ‑‑ little tiny area, First time second time, went over a little ways,/same ground, step a little further, third time, same ground, another little further. He just said, I'd like to get to Rome, and he got there as a prisoner at the expense of the Roman government. That's all ‑‑ that's all the further he ever went. Just three little trips. And yet the man affected the entire world. How did he do that?
Think about Jesus. Do you realize that Jesus never left? Jesus never went on a boat and went anywhere? He stayed right in the area of Israel ‑‑ Galilee ‑Jerusalem, Galilee‑Jerusalem, that's it. You think He had a sense of winning the world? You better believe He did, but He never left where He was. You say but how could He reach the world if He neverleft where He was? Because He knew how. David McKenna says, self‑styled Messiahs are megalomaniacs. Their sense of mission has no limitations, short of conquering the world and conquering it now. At the slightest signal that their efforts are being frustrated they usually respond with rage and madness. You see, Jesus had a tremendous economy of effort. He knew how to do what He wanted to do in limitation.
Now let me say this, because I think it's very important. And I need to hear this, I need to remember this. Jesus limited His ministry. Because it isn't how broad it is, it's how deep it is. God says, you take care of the depth of it; I'll take care of the breadth of it. Look at the limits that Jesus put on His ministry. Number one limit ‑‑ he says, "I will only do what the Father shows me to do." Limit number one on anyministry ‑‑ God's will. Right? God's will. And I'll tell you there are all kinds of people dreaming about all kinds of fantastic things and running around doing them and God doesn't have a thing to do with it. And instead of spending their time doing what God wants them to do and God gifted them to do they're running around doing what they want to do and usually it's megalomania. Usually it's an ego problem when that gets too far stretched out. John chapter 5:30 that's precisely what Jesus said, that what He wanted to do was just what the Father gave Him to do "I seek not my own will, but the will of my Father who sent Me." So the first limitation He put on His ministry was the limitation of God's will.
Second one was the limitation of time, He had a timing limitation. How many times have you read it in the Gospel of John, "His hour was not yet come." He had a sense of timing, that there were certain things to be done in certain times, and until it was the right time and the Father's time, and the Father's will, He didn't do them. That put limitations on His ministry in terms of God's will and in terms of timing. And I'll tell you one thing ‑‑ when it did become the right time it was exciting, wasn't it? Boy, when He finally did say, "My hour is come," man, it was exciting.
The third limitation that He put on His ministry that I see in the Bible is the objective of His ministry when He first came into the world in Matt. 9:13, Matt. 10, He said "I have not come but for the lost sheep of the House of Israel." I'm just going to talk to Jews. You say, why would He limit Himself like that? He tightened the circle of His ministry. That Father's will, a special time, a special people. He wanted to reach Jews. I'll even go a step further. He only wanted to reach one kind of Jew. You say, what kind? "I come not to seek the righteous, but to bring (what?) sinner to repentance." He didn't want hypocritical super religious ones he wanted ones who recognized their sin. Again, the scope of His ministry is narrowed.
Another thing that limited His ministry. Not only the Father's will, time, particular people, but the subject. All through Jesus' ministry people tried to pressure Him into making political statements. What do you think about Caesar? And what did He say. Very judiciously He avoided any political involvement and said render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's and to God the things that are God's. You see, He refused to be forced into political involvement because that was not His purpose. And I know He had strong feelings about it but He evaded it because He had limits on His ministry. You know something else, He limited Himself in the people that He discipled. Mark, chapter 5. He healed a maniac. And after He healed the maniac the maniac fel1 down at His feet and clutched Him and he was clothed and in is right mind and he said, "I want to go with you." And Jesus said (what?) no. You stay here; you go back to your own people. Why didn't He take him? You see, megalomaniacs, mad‑men, they need lots of disciples. See, because they need to drag them around and prove themselves. Jesus. He knew how many He could handle, He knew many He had and that's all He wanted.
Kept narrowing, and narrowing, and the limitations on His ministry are astounding, and yet Jesus Christ affected the world. The apostle Paul says in Romans chapter 15, I've got limits too. He says this: "I will not dare to speak of any of those things which Christ has not wrought in me." My limit is that I only talk about what God has done in my life. It isn't theory. And I'll tell you something else, verse 20: "I have strived to preach the Gospel not where Christ was named." I've got another limit. I only go to places that are newplaces forthe Gospel. Listen. The men who affect the world put limits on their ministry that allow them to do it with depth. Paul goes back to the same people three times. Jesus works with the same twelve people three years. And it ultimately affects the world. Learn it, people. There is a scope to the ministry. The scope that you're going to have in your ministry ‑is not related to how fast you travel it's related to how deep you plow. You worry about the depth of it and God will spread it. And I can give you personal testimony to that.
I am absolutely astounded at the ministry that Grace Community Church has all over the entire world, as people from hear travel ‑‑ as they carry tapes and materials, as they learn from the teachers and they spread the message. We get mail from the world, and yet we have this ministry here. The deeper this goes the greater will be its breadth. Listen. What does it mean to give full scope to the ministry, what does it mean to fulfill the Word of God for your life. It means this. To obey God's will in God's time. To do what God has called you to do, to teach the whole Word to those God has given you to do and let Him worry about extending it. If I could just do that I'd be satisfied. So Paul lays out His ministry. The source is God. The spirit is joy. The suffering ‑- well, that's on behalf of Christ for the sake of the Church. And the scope is the whole word to the world God has called me to, and then by His Spirit, to extend it to the world beyond.
I'll tell you something, that's only four of the features of the ministry. We've got four more. But if God's people were committed to those four, what a revolutionary thing the Church would become. Let's pray.
PRAYER: Thank you, our Father, tonight, for a good time of fellowship. It's just exciting to be together, and I want to thank you for the gift you've given me and the ministry ‑‑ to teach these beloved precious people, Thank you for every person here tonight, every one of them especially made object of your love ... the one that you want to draw back to yourself, that they might know the fullness of life. I thank you for their faithfulness, for the fact that they come back week after week to hear and to learn and to share and to worship and to fellowship and how rich you've made me ‑‑ how much joy I have because of you and because of them. May I never be too concerned about me. I pray that you'll teach us all that you're the one who puts us in the ministry and you're the one who equips us and the only response we can have in whatever service we do no matter what the circumstances are is to be rejoicing because anything that we get is more than we deserve, even if it's to suffer for your sake, what a sweet joy it is. Help us to realize that you've told us that we're to just fill up the cup that you've given us and do it right and do it well, and then you'll pass it around for the world to drink. Help us to be obedient servants ‑‑ to speak the oracles of God, and to minister in the ability that you've given. In Jesus' name. AMEN.
Available online at: http://www.gty.org/resources/sermons/2137
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Hallelujah by Ravie_girl29
Chapter 12 : Epilogue 2 - Reunion
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 8
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I knew at that second I was in Heaven, I'd made it, against all odds. There were no pearly gates or angels playing harps, but I didn't expect there to be. But, I was where I wanted to be, and I knew I was finally safe.
Harry opened his eyes, he expected to be at King's Cross, like he was when he met Dumbledore, but he wasn't. He was somewhere else, he didn't recognize it at all, but it faintly reminded him of the orchard where he played Quidditch with the Weasleys.
He turned around slowly, knowing she would be there. She was. Her long red hair blowing in the slight breeze. She was wearing a long white dress. Tears slid down her face.
Her brown eyes were full of shock and pain, "How could you?" she asked, "Harry James Potter, how could you?"
"I had to be with you." He said.
She walked up to him and took his face with her hands, gently kissing him on the lips. "You are an idiot." she told him, "And I am pissed at you, I just want to know that."
"But we can be together now." He told her.
"I know and that makes me very happy." she said, "But still."
"I love you more then anything in the world, Ginny Weasley."
"Ron, Hermione, Teddy, Hagrid, my parents..." Ginny listed off.
"I feel guilty," He told her, "Don't think I don't, but, Ginny..."
"Don't come up with an excuse," Ginny said, she looked so much like Mrs. Weasley it was almost scary, "There is know excuse for this."
He took a breath and looked intensely into her eyes, "Ginny, you died in my arms. I was holding you and I could feel you slip away from me, one minute you were there the next you were gone. I do have an excuse."
She kissed him again, her warm hand on the back of his neck, her other hand on his cheek. He wanted to kiss her forever, to hold her in his arms and never let her go. She was his, she belonged to him and he belonged to her. The fact that they were separated even for a little while was criminal. It went against nature, it went against logic, it didn't matter that they were both dead now, they were together and that was all that was what was important.
When she broke away she looked at him, "I still think you're an idiot," she said, "And I still think you made the wrong choice. I would rather see you have a long, healthy, happy life, even if I wasn't in it." She traced her fingers down his cheek, "But I still love you, and I can't lie, I'm glad you're here with me. Does that make me selfish?"
"No." Harry said, "That makes you human...or...whatever."
"Whatever." she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I feel bad," she said, "I'm hogging you."
"What do you mean?" He asked.
"You don't think we're alone here, do you?" Ginny smiled. Harry stared at her, he hadn't thought about that, he had Ginny, what else did he need? She leaned closer to him and whispered into his ear, "Turn around."
Harry looked behind him, standing in the orchard-like setting was a group of people, all people Harry recognized, in the very front standing hand and hand stood Lily and James. Harry walked closer to them, his arm around Ginny's shoulders. Lily walked up first.
She looked about ready to slap him across the face. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened it again, "If you had a child you would understand what I'm going through right now." she said, "You...how could you?" Her green eyes were so hurt, but she pulled him into a hug, none the less, though it was slightly awkward since he still had his arm around Ginny. "I love you so much." she told him. "I love you my stupid, stupid little boy."
"Well," Sirius's familiar voice said, as he walked up and cuffing Harry on the shoulder, "At least he didn't die a virgin. That's always something to be thankful for." Ginny turned redder then Harry had ever seen her.
"Sirius Black!" Lily shrieked, hitting him.
"Well, Lils," James said, "You can't deny it's good that he got it out of the way."
"Yeah," Fred added walking up, "But still, if it would have been with anyone other then my baby sister."
"Huh." Harry laughed, "We're both dead and yet the argument continues."
"Well, I was dead for the first argument, I have the right to argue now." Fred reminded him.
Harry laughed and shook his head, Hedwig landed on his shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately. Harry stroked her head with his finger and kissed Ginny again. All eternity stretch in front of him, he was with Ginny, and he would be with all eternity. Dumbledore was right, there was nothing to pity for the dead.
Authors Note:
Again I DO NOT CONDOLE SUICIDE!!!! No matter what the cause! However for literary purposes I have to write it.
The quote at the beginning is from an unpublished book called Split Purple Nail-Polish and belongs to Sadie Rai not me...you haven't heard of it yet, but it will be a bestseller
Now I have no idea why I wrote this, it wasn't planned or anticipated. I was just rereading all my stories and reviews and a few people wanted me to reunite Harry and Ginny in heaven so I went all out, and reunited him with his parents, Sirius, Fred, the whole works, even Hedwig. And also, this story was my baby, as tacky as that might sound, this was the story, it was when my writing really transferred from amateur to something a normal person might actually want to read, and I really haven't loved a story like it since, so I couldn't give it up that easily please review
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Black Bloody Mutiny
by BevF
Warning: Deathfic
Day 1
Horatio Hornblower stared gloomily out of the barred window . At least his cell was open to the outside; once in a while a fitful breeze blew in, relieving the heat a little, and he could watch the comings and goings of those blessed with the freedom to move around outside. Pellew had appeared grateful for the moving air also; he'd looked almost unwell, a fine sheen of perspiration on his face, as he'd stood and listened to Horatio's story.
He supposed he was fortunate that Pellew was sitting at the court-martial. Not that Sir Edward would attempt to thwart the due authority of the panel of judges, but there was some small hope that he might put certain events in a more positive light. Oh, Pellew had fumed and blustered, but Horatio knew his former captain had believed him when he'd said their actions had been for the good of the service. Nevertheless, he carefully kept his thoughts neutral; what was done was done, and there was no point in either entertaining false hopes or wallowing in despair.
Despair came easily enough, God knew. He had only to think of Archie, bound to his bed more firmly by that dreadful wound, than by any iron bars. He'd watched as Archie and Mr. Bush, along with the others injured in that desperate attempt to take the Renown, had been carried up on deck, preparatory to being ferried ashore.
Bush's wound was serious, but not as deep as both Horatio and Clive had thought on first glance. Barring an infection -- always a possibility -- he would recover. He too had been locked up -- along with Archie -- but though he had cast his lot with them down there in the hold, he had less to fear than the rest of them. Pellew had come directly to the heart of the matter -- the question of how Sawyer had come to fall down the hold. Bush had simply not been there.
But Archie..... If there were to be a hangman's noose waiting for them all at the end of this whole wretched affair, he could only wish that Archie died first, rather than have life snatched away from him in that manner. His friend had shown a brave face, when Horatio had last seen him, but his breathing had been laboured, and fresh blood spotted the bandage encircling his midsection.
Since then, there had been no word. He had already asked for permission to visit his friends, but received no answer in return, nor any news regarding their health. Perhaps the guard had laughed secretly at his prisoner, with no intention of passing on the request.
Another fitful breeze blew gratifyingly against his face. Would Archie and Mr. Bush have even this small comfort in the gaol sickberth? Did they lie there and ponder their fate, as did he? Did worry eat away at their reserves of strength, strength they both needed to mend? Somehow he must see them, somehow put their minds at ease, though he knew not how. Somehow Archie must find the will to live -- somehow!
The guard had pulled the iron-barred door shut with a clash, and Commodore Sir Edward Pellew followed him back up the dank stifling corridor, and away from the spartan cell now occupied by Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower. Pellew's own eyes might have been on the back of the guard, as he walked directly ahead, his booted feet echoing loudly in the enclosed space, but he was seeing another pair of dark eyes in his mind.
On arriving in Kingston, Jamaica, the Commodore had expected to be irritated by all the petty squabbling and mean-spirited dealings that seemed to dog the ships and men of His Majesty's Navy wherever they found themselves. What he had not expected was to find himself appointed to oversee a court-martial -- the court-martial of, among others, a man who he had predicted would enjoy a glorious career in the Service. Hornblower stood charged with mutiny, and behind the charge, the specter of the hangman's noose was chillingly clear.
As a member of the court, it was his duty to remain impartial and to judge the case as the facts were presented to him in due time. But his duty be damned! Truth had a deadly habit of being mocked and twisted, no matter how many oaths might be taken, and how righteous a witness might appear. So he had experienced no qualms of conscience when he decided to visit his young protege, and hear from the man himself exactly what had happened on board Renown.
"It was for the good of the service, " Hornblower had assured him. "We were headed for disaster." The story which the young Lieutenant then proceeded to relate left no doubts in Pellew's mind that they were indeed headed for disaster. An increasingly irrational captain. A captain who beat a boy for no reason. A captain who pampered the men and even encouraged drunkenness and sloth. A captain who treated his officers as the enemy. The Spanish would have made short work of a ship under the command of a captain like that -- and very nearly did. Of course, Sawyer's fall down the hold only exacerbated his condition.
The guard swung open the door leading outside, and Pellew blinked his eyes against the stark brilliance of the hot Jamaican sun. He supposed he should enjoy this change from the damp and cold which he had left behind so recently, but sweat was already running down his face, and he mopped at it with his handkerchief. Some cool lemonade would be most refreshing right now.
Ah, yes, Sawyer's fall. His condition had been much worsened by that fall, to the point where Dr. Clive had finally declared him incompetent, and not a moment too soon, from Hornblower's account. After that, though Hornblower was very circumspect in his retelling of the events, Pellew knew quite well that neither Mr. Buckland nor Mr. Bush could take credit for conceiving any of those daring actions that allowed the Renown to reach port in Kingston, three prize ships in tow. No -- the surprise attack on the fort, the swaying up of the cannon, the retaking of the Renown -- all Hornblower's doing, he'd bet his life on it.
Hibbert House, where Sir Edward had been graciously offered accommodation during his stay in Kingston, was only a short distance from the gaol, but he was breathing heavily by the time he reached the front doorway. A young serving girl curtsied to him as he passed into the blessed shade within and requested that a pitcher of lemonade be brought up to his room. The girl bobbed her head and scurried off while Pellew trudged wearily up the curving staircase. Damn, now his head was starting to ache! Blast this infernal heat anyway!
Gratefully, he stripped off his heavy wool jacket and waistcoat, and loosening his shirt at the neck, dropped into a high-backed easy chair.
'The fall is what seemed to push him over the edge, ' Hornblower had said.
'An interesting choice of words. Just how did Captain Sawyer come to fall down the hold?' How he wished he'd never asked that question.
'It appeared he overbalanced, sir,' Hornblower had answered. Had he lied? No, perhaps he hadn't lied, but there was something -- something in his face, in his eyes -- something that had made him believe that neither was the man telling the whole truth. Pellew had taken his leave then -- if only he'd done so sooner and left that question unasked. 'For the good of the service' Could he have -- would he have..... ? It didn't make any sense. There were no guarantees -- a fall down the hold -- the man might have died, or just suffered a few bruises.
He remembered clearly the first day Hornblower stood before him in the privacy of the Captain's cabin on board Indefatigable. Pellew had formed no good judgment of the young midshipman -- he had no patience with those who settled grievances with duels, and this was beyond belief -- a man who, having provoked the duel, then allowed another to fight in his place. But he'd reserved his judgment, even when the young puppy dared argue with him.
The capture of the Marie Galante had given him an opportunity to test young Hornblower's mettle. An officer, even a midshipman, served to command. An inability to command was more easily hidden on board a ship of a hundred and eighty souls, but a ship the size of the captured prize was less forgiving. Hornblower had lost the vessel, of course, through no fault of his own. He'd brought his men back, along with the French prisoners, and never laid the blame for the Marie Gallante's loss where it belonged -- a hull holed by an imprudent shot.
From that time, young Hornblower had gone from one incredible incident to another -- flying the French flag to achieve surprise when attacking the French corvettes. Coolly suggesting that he and his men serve their quarantine while ferrying those precious supplies, when most would have given up and waited for a nearly inevitable death. Boarding that fireship and saving both the Indefatigable and the lives of the men on her. Risking life and limb to rescue the enemy from the sea and then returning to prison simply because he had given his parole. Even during that misguided debacle that was Quiberon, Hornblower had been the one to ferret out the true location of the French army.
An original thinker, that Hornblower. And never one to wander up and down in the byways of indecision. He saw his duty, and he did it, if sometimes in an unorthodox manner. The irrationality of Captain Sawyer must have goaded him beyond belief. Might he, in one rash moment, compounded a situation already in the making -- for the good of the service?
More worrisome by far, was his belief that Hornblower was quite capable of standing up in front of the three of them, and candidly bearing the blame for Sawyer's fall -- or whatever the devil it might have been -- if he in any way felt himself responsible. Again he could too easily call to mind another incident where Hornblower had presented himself in his captain's cabin -- and this time, the interview terminated in tears. Pellew's heart had cried also for the young man, who somehow blamed himself for lives lost -- both British and French -- when the real culprits at the Admiralty had perhaps shrugged and managed a disinterested "Well, we tried", before enjoying a good dinner followed by a fine brandy.
There was a hesitant tap on the door.
"Come," Pellew said, and the young girl entered with a tray containing the lemonade and a glass. She filled the glass and then fled. Pellew drained it in one long swallow, and filled it once again. He could feel a slight breeze from the open window, and yet if anything, the heat seemed more deadening than before. His head pounded, and he realized he was starting to feel dizzy.
How was Hornblower standing it, shut up there in that gaol cell? He needed to be free, on the deck of a ship, fighting the enemy -- not Sawyer's ghost, or Captains set in judgment against him. Hammond, Collins -- how would they see him? Hammond had watched him fail miserably his exam for Lieutenant, but was also present to witness his mad act of courage, as he and Foster steered the fireship away from the Indefatigable. And Collins? Ah, he knew the man well -- knew him to be fair and reasonable.
Collins. He'd agreed to meet him for dinner. A good-natured fellow, if rather phlegmatic at times. He didn't envy him -- given command of Renown, almost before the blood of her previous Captain had been scrubbed from the deck. A step up, of course, from the old Taurus, an aging hulk that set her bows outside the precincts of Kingston harbor only on the fairest of days, and only for the shortest of missions. .
But neither Hammond or Collins knew Hornblower like he did -- knew the stuff whereof the man was made. Whatever had happened on Renown, had indeed happened for the good of the service. Yes, Sawyer had been a hero, a great leader, one of Nelson's own. But any man might falter, with no blame inferred.
Good God, just as he was faltering now. What the devil was wrong with him! Had that damned serving girl put something in his lemonade -- rum perhaps? No, he had not tasted anything untoward. He reached out his hand and lifted the glass up, but somehow, his fingers had no strength to grasp it, and the glass fell. He felt the wetness soaking through his breeches, and heard the glass smash on the tile floor. After that, he knew nothing at all.
Day 2
"And how long is this court-martial to be postponed!" Hammond blustered. He had paced up and down the room a dozen times and Captain Collins wearied of watching him.
"Until the Commodore recovers, " Collins answered.
"And when is that likely to be!"
"Come now, Hammond, you'd think Pellew had contracted the yellow fever just to vex you. The man is seriously ill, I believe, and may indeed lose his life!"
"Yes, well..." Hammond took two more turns of the room and then dropped heavily into a chair. "Mutiny -- always a bad business -- I don't want to see a moment wasted in disposing of this particular case."
"And what is particular about this case, if I may be so bold as to inquire?"
Hammond shot him a disgusted look. "Think on it man! Sawyer is a legend! To have his name blackened in this manner is not to be tolerated. And after that Hermione fiasco ..."
"I see little resemblance between the foul mutiny on board Hermione and what ever events might have transpired in the case of Renown. Why, her officers have brought her safely into a British port, with three Spanish prizes in tow. Hardly the same case as Hermione!"
"Nevertheless, Captain Sawyer was relieved of command. And that, Mr. Collins, is mutiny!" Hammond once again jumped to his feet and commenced his interminable pacing.
Well, Hammond was correct. Technically, that was mutiny. There was a story to be told here, he was certain of it. Pellew was certain of it. Collins had never seen the Commodore in such a vile mood in all the years of their acquaintanceship. Granted, the man could be forgiven for being somewhat out of sorts, arriving in Kingston just a day or so before Renown, and then immediately being thrust into heading this panel. The young Lieutenant -- Hornblower, devil of a name that -- had served under him for some time on Indefatigable, Pellew's favorite command. Not the kind of circumstances under which he might want to meet him again.
His own situation left much to be desired also, if he were honest with himself. He should have welcomed his transfer to a decent 74, a fighting ship indeed, and his chance to shake himself loose from the backwater he'd found himself in. He'd read himself in that morning, but this deuced court-martial looked fair to rob him of his full complement of officers. And to what degree had the men themselves been tainted? His presence was required on the quarter-deck, not sitting in this stuffy Government House room, watching Hammond pace.
"Nevertheless, Hammond, there's nothing to be done, in my opinion . We must await the outcome of Sir Edward's illness. The ship is in no danger of going the way of Hermione; get some new officers aboard her, and she can be about her duty. Hard luck on those awaiting trial, but there you have it. " And perhaps not such hard luck after all; a court-martial where mutiny was the charge could always end in an execution; let the poor bastards enjoy a few more days of life. And best all round that they await Pellew's recovery (or death, not an option he wished to dwell on, but a more probable one, for all that). He knew Pellew had a fondness for Hornblower, and that fondness might well temper his handling of the court-martial. He would not wish to endure Sir Edward's wrath, if events were allowed to proceed, with an outcome not to the Commodore's liking.
Suddenly a loud noise boomed forth, and then another, and another.
"What the devil...!" Hammond strode to the window and pushed the curtain aside; Collins jumped to his feet and crossed the room to join him. A ship was just gliding into the anchorage in Kingston harbor and a few final puffs of smoke from her side signaled the end of her salute. Collins glanced round the room -- yes, a telescope lay nearby on a small table. Grabbing it up, he extended it and placed it to his eye.
"Can you make her out, sir?" Hammond asked, tapping impatiently on the window glass. Collins could, and did.
"Vanguard, 74, it looks like."
"Captain Sir Thomas Williams, " Hammond said. " Mr. Collins, I believe we have our panel complete once again."
Boom! Boom! Boom! The familiar sound of cannonfire echoed faintly through the open window. Horatio looked out -- the anchorage was visible, but he'd give anything to have a telescope with him. A ship coming into port, and saluting -- he could see that much. The fact had nothing to do with him though, and sometimes he wished he could not see the ships anchored in Kingston harbor. Bad enough to be imprisoned in this tiny cell; but worse still to watch the ships of his Majesty's Navy riding at anchor, and wonder whether he would ever go aboard one of them again.
He took his watch from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. He had expected to be summoned before this; the court-martial would not begin without him, and he had been told that it would convene at 10 AM precisely. Well, 10 AM had come and gone some forty-five minutes ago, and the only disruption of his solitude had been the guard with his breakfast. At least the food was tolerable; far better, in fact, than he was accustomed to on Renown. Paltry recompense for loss of his freedom, but welcome, none the less.
Damn! He could not abide this waiting about! He paced to the iron bars of the doorway, back to the window, and back to the bars again.
"Guard!" he called. He could not see the man, but assumed that he stood no great distance away. "Guard!"
The scrabble of booted feet on the stone floor of the prison finally greeted his shout, and the red-coated sentry appeared on the other side of the barred entry.
"And what do you want?" the guard asked sullenly.
"When am I to be taken for ...." he hesitated. "When will I be required to appear before the court?"
The man scratched himself. "Damned if I know. They don't say much to the likes o' me. "
"Dammit, man, they must have told you something!"
"All I know is -- I was t'take yer over this morning, and then they said there'd been a delay."
A delay? And just what the devil did that mean? Perhaps some more information had surfaced, or a witness was unavailable, though he didn't see how either of those two eventualities could be true. Perhaps the whole proceeding had been put off indefinitely; perhaps someone in authority had decided that a court-martial was unnecessary. He didn't believe that either.
"And Mr. Buckland? He has not been taken either?"
"No, sir. Right testy bastard, that one."
"I don't believe it your place to make such judgments."
The man shrugged and turned to go. "Ye'll know when it's time, " he said, " I doubt they'll ferget ye!" and he walked off into the gloom of the corridor.
A bitter smile crossed Horatio's lips. A testy bastard. Well, Buckland had a right to be testy. He'd seen his chance for recognition after all these years slip away; the story must be all over Kingston by now -- tied up in his bed by the enemy, his Captain slain for his carelessness. No matter that it might have happened to any one of them -- because it hadn't, it had happened to Mr. Buckland. And the man must be desperately worried about this court-martial. Horatio had warned Buckland and the others, during that grim meeting down in the hold, how events might appear when they reached Kingston. Then fate had overtaken them all. If they had not met -- no, no point in dwelling on the matter. They had met, Hobbs had cried 'Mutiny', the captain had .... fallen down the hold. Whatever the result of the actions at Samana Bay, the fact remained that command has been wrested from Captain Sawyer. Perhaps Buckland, despite all, had believed that no further action would be taken, no court-martial, no board of inquiry. If so, the man was indeed a fool.
If only he could see Archie, or at least have news of him. He'd asked the guard again this morning about the two injured officers, but the man had no information to give him, or no intention of passing along any he might have. Perhaps Archie was already dead? But if he lived still, might that not portend well for his eventual recovery? God, he felt so helpless!
William Bush moved gingerly on the hard mattress of the gaol cot. The fire that enveloped his midsection seemed to have abated somewhat, which surely was a good sign. He'd refused Clive's offer of laudanum; he would forever think of Sawyer's descent into madness whenever laudanum was mentioned. Which had come first, he wondered -- the laudanum or the madness? He'd only been aboard Renown since Plymouth and for most of his time since then he'd been the odd man out. Hornblower and Kennedy had mistrusted him at first and rightfully so, for he'd looked up to Sawyer, until it was painfully obvious that the hero of the Nile had changed into a crazed old man. Even when his thinking had come round, he knew he still stood apart. Perhaps he'd been mad to throw in his lot with them, despite the evidence of his own eyes.
In fact, would they have gone ahead, forced Clive to declare the Captain unfit to command, taken over the ship -- if Sawyer had not fallen down the hold? He suspected that the particulars of that fall might be what would save -- or destroy -- them all.
Three men had been down there with Sawyer -- Hornblower, Kennedy and Wellard. He supposed he could take some comfort from the fact that he had not made a fourth Perhaps he could use that fact to save himself, if necessary. Perhaps he could. Yes, William, you could say 'Honored members of the court, I swear, under oath, that I was not present when Captain Sawyer fell.' But he knew that when he joined Buckland, Hornblower, and Kennedy down there in the hold, then he was as much a part of events as any one of them, whatever might have happened.
A low groan, followed by a shallow cough, broke into his thoughts. He turned his head towards the man who lay beside him on an hard cot identical to his own. Mr. Kennedy was in no condition to escape, except by death, but he too was implicated in the so-called mutiny and so he too rested here behind bars.
"Mr. Kennedy?" he called. For a moment there was no answer. The rise and fall of Kennedy's chest was very slight; Bush knew that even breathing was difficult for him.
"Mr. Bush." Archie's voice whispered across the space between them. "I'm still alive, if that's what you're wondering."
"Despite Dr. Clive?"
"I'm fortunate. Dr. Clive has seen fit to leave me along."
Because there was nothing Dr. Clive could do for him, Bush knew. As he felt himself gaining some small measure of strength, he could see that Mr. Kennedy losing his.
"They will have started..." Archie coughed again, and fell silent.
"Yes, I expect they will have." Bush groped for some reassurance, however frail or false, to offer up to Mr. Kennedy. " I understand Commodore Pellew is to be in charge of proceedings. Surely a good sign. I'm sure the whole business is just a formality. "
There was no answer from the adjoining cot. Archie's eyes had closed, but his chest still rose and fell slowly. Just as well he'd drifted off again. While Bush had declined Clive's proffered opiate, Mr. Kennedy had not, and rightly so.
"A black business this!" Captain Sir Thomas Williams had joined Hammond and Collins in the small sitting room. He looked decidedly out of sorts and Collins for one did not blame him. Mutiny -- even a hint of it -- was always bad business. Williams' squadron had run into foul weather crossing the Atlantic and scattered; Vanguard was the first to limp into port. He surely had other concerns on his mind than being called to serve on a court-martial.
"A black business indeed," Hammond agreed. "Captain Sawyer, of all men...."
"And these officers -- they had the audacity to murder their captain?"
"Certainly not, sir, " Collins said. " Sawyer was killed by the Spanish. "
"Spanish prisoners, " Hammond continued, "The blackguards escaped from confinement on board Renown and attempted to take her."
"Then where does mutiny come into it?" Williams huffed.
"Captain Sawyer had been relieved of command. That is the issue we are called upon the resolve, " Collins said.
"Relieved of command,eh! Is this sickness another hazard of the West Indies, like hurricanes and yellow fever?"
Yellow fever. Collins had stopped at Hibbert House the previous evening to inquire after Sir Edward. The lady of the house had no encouraging news to give him. Pellew, for all intents and purposes, lay on his deathbed, a matter of much greater import for His Majesty's Navy than the possible guilt or innocence of three young Lieutenants and a very much older one.
"Antoinette, her captain and first officer killed. And Hermione -- dear God, poor Sir Hugh! " Williams, like his fellow Board member, liked to pace.
"You knew Captain Pigott then?" Collins asked.
"Our families are acquainted. Terrible business that, terrible!"
"I believe there was talk of cruelties..."
"Cruelties? Proper discipline, Mr. Collins. His Majesty's ships would founder indeed without it. And had there been proper discipline at Spithead and the Nore, the Admiralty and his Majesty's Government would not have needed to bow down to an illiterate, carping rabble!" Williams' ire found release in a solid thump of his fist on an unfortunate sidetable, which shivered delicately but managed to remain in one piece.
Collins was quite unable to follow Williams' logic . The man seemed to believe that the severe discipline which had led to the Hermione mutiny would have prevented the Great Mutiny of 1797. Hopefully, he would display somewhat clearer thinking when it came to the matter at hand.
"But more to the point, sir -- my sister's young boy was serving as Midshipman on Hermione. A boy! Dead along with the rest of them." He pounded the table again and Collins winced.
"I believe what we have here gentlemen, is a situation quite different, " Hammond said. " The men did not mutiny, but the officers did."
A sharp rap at the open doorway drew all their eyes towards the uniformed gentleman standing there. "The court is ready, sirs." the man announced.
Collins stood. "I find your statement to be somewhat premature, Hammond. This court-martial has been called to deduce the truth of the whole situation."
"Truth. Ah yes. The truth. I for one have an interest to hear that young Hornblower's part in all this. "
"Hornblower? " Williams said, giving a tug on his uniform jacket. "Who the devil is Hornblower?"
"A protege of the Commodore, " Hammond said. "But Pellew's not here to whitewash this whole affair, and I think perhaps we may get at the truth!"
"Only one truth as I make it out to be, " Williams answered. " When a great Captain like Sawyer is forcibly removed from his office, then the only verdict must be black bloody mutiny!"
Horatio had queried the guard once again as his breakfast was served; once again the man had no information to give him. But now he heard the tramp of feet coming along the corridor; many feet, and not just the one guard returning.
A red-coated Sergeant thrust a key into the lock, twisted it, and swung the bars open. "Sir!" the man said, standing aside. "Your presence is required at Government House." With a sweep of his arm, he indicated that Hornblower should step outside his cell.
Three more soldiers stood to attention in the corridor, their claypipe belting brilliantly white and their backs rigid. Buckland stood there, also.
"Mr. Buckland, " Hornblower said, taking his place beside him.
"Mr. Hornblower." Buckland answered. Two guards preceded them, and two guards fell in behind them; the little cavalcade processed swiftly through the dank -walled corridor.
"Are you well, Mr. Buckland?" Even in the dim light Horatio could see that Buckland looked decidedly pale.
"Well, Mr. Hornblower? Well? We are on our way to our deaths, sir! No, I am not well!"
"Sir, this is not the place -- " Already one of the guards had swiveled his head round to stare.
"Hmf!" But at least Buckland said no more. Of course the man was afraid. He'd be foolish not to have some apprehension. They were not being escorted to a ball, or even to an informal court of inquiry. What awaited them was nothing less than a full-fledged court-martial, the charge mutiny, and the possible outcome, death.
The First Lieutenant was obviously paying the price for his initial cavalier attitude towards Sawyer's removal from command. The Admiralty looked only to the Articles of War and nowhere in the Articles of War was it written that a Captain retained his authority through the good graces of his officers. Hornblower supposed that their lives rested in the hands of Dr. Clive. A captain could be stripped of his command -- if the surgeon deemed him incapable of continuing. And better that these facts be kept firmly in mind, from the beginning. Was Buckland remembering his words down there in the hold, and wondering how he could have held such an innocent belief?
How good the fresh air felt as he stepped outside -- even the harsh Jamaican sun was welcome after the gloom of his cell. Though the Marines kept up a sharp pace, Horatio took the time nevertheless to glance round him, at the exotically colored flowers, the palm trees that lent a glamorous foreign air to the surroundings, the dark-skinned men digging in the gardens, and shuffling by with impossibly huge loads on their backs. He'd enjoyed some fresh fruit with his breakfast that morning; it was juicy and sweet, though he'd no idea of its name, and he'd taken a moment to feel a little sorry for himself, in a tropical port at last, yet cut off from its strange excitements. But if events went well, and he must always hope for the best, then perhaps he and Archie.....
The small bubbling up of hope and enthusiasm swiftly fled.
By now they'd arrived at Government House. Up the wide stairway, down a cool hallway, six noisy pairs of booted feet ringing on the flagstones, then a sharp turn into the courtroom. Mr. Buckland seemed to stagger a little; Horatio raised a hand to steady him, but Buckland cast it sharply away, tugged on his jacket, and continued on.
A loud buzz had emanated from the room, but as the small procession entered, the noise quickly died away. Horatio kept his head forward, but glanced surreptitiously to either side. The courtroom was full. Most, he knew, had come to glean what entertainment they could from another's mortal peril and in their hearts, looked forward to a hanging.
Some more familiar faces were sprinkled here and there. Clive, of course. His testimony could be damning, or not. By damning them, he might well damn himself. And Hobbs. Horatio could understand his allegiance to Captain Sawyer; just such a dilemma might have befallen himself in other circumstances, were he still serving under Pellew, and Pellew fell victim to the kind of ghosts and devils afflicting Sawyer. In the end, he believed he and Hobbs had reached a kind of -- guarded respect perhaps? -- for each other. What the man might say on the stand, if called to testify, could not be predicted. Matthews and Styles were sitting stiff and grim-faced. At least two men in this courtroom looked for acquittal and not blood. The thought comforted Horatio. He'd cautioned Matthews the moment a word had passed his lips regarding unrest on the Renown. For once, the heavy burden of the Articles of War lay on the officers, and not on the men. Pray God he would not let them down!
Two chairs stood empty in the front rank. The Marines stood back, and he and Buckland took their places.
"All rise!" A guard at the front of the room had stood smartly to attention, and his voice boomed out over the whispering crowd, cutting off all noise at once, and bringing them all to their feet.
Three men paraded into the room. Three men, bedecked in all the gold and glitter accruing to the loftiness of their rank and the solemnity of the occasion. Three men who wielded the power of life and death over the officers of the Renown, and who might, in the course of the proceedings, arrive at the truth. Or who might not.
The first was a short, thickset man, with somewhat the appearance of a bulldog about him. To Horatio's eye, he looked open and honest, though Horatio could not have explained exactly why he thought so. The second -- dear God, was that Black Charlie Hammond? It was, and the years had not changed his cool skeptical eye, which had glowered at him during that fateful examination for Lieutenant so many years ago in Gibraltar. He remembered too the petty quarrel between Hammond and Foster in the launch. A ridiculous matter.
And then -- what? What was this? He could not comprehend -- But, no, his eyes did not deceive him. The third man should have been Pellew. Should have. But was not! Where was Pellew? Had something happened to him? He was to serve on this court, he'd made that much very clear during his one visit to the gaol. He clearly outranked the other members....
The three men took their places at the table set at the head of the court. The third man could have *been* Foster, he resembled him closely in height and size. A fierce light blazed from his eyes; a fanatical light almost, and he alone of the three, glared at the two men awaiting judgment.
Horatio glanced across at Buckland. There was no change in Buckland's face, but of course Buckland had no knowledge of Pellew, or what his absence on the court might mean for them all.
So this was the officer Pellew had been so upset about. Oh, he hid it well, but Collins had easily seen the tense worry in the Commodore's face. Collins, of course, had never met the man, nor heard aught of him for that matter, but if Hornblower had caught his former commanding officer's very particular and discerning eye, then he must be an exceptional man. Which meant that this worrisome, tedious court-martial might have surprises for them all.
The two officers charged looked steady enough, though the older of the two -- Buckland, he supposed -- had a rather more worried look on his face, and Collins wondered whether a sharp noise might serve to propel the man out of his chair in an absolute fit of nerves. He had something to hide, of that, Collins was sure. Buckland was rather old to still hold the rank of Lieutenant, but even in wartime some men never caught the luck. Or were passed over. To finally find himself in command of a 74 must have been the shining achievement of his career. And to come to this, instead.
The other officer -- Hornblower -- looked straight ahead, his head held high, his angular face immobile. Harder to make any judgments about this man -- Collins would hate to meet him for a game of cards. Behind that face could easily lurk the blackest treachery or the purest innocence.
An interesting contrast the two of them made -- age and experience, youth and -- what?
The charges were read out. Yes, Buckland flinched just slightly as the word 'mutiny' rolled off Williams' tongue. Hornblower might have tensed his jaw a little, though it was hard to be sure from here. Interesting in the difference between their reactions. Whatever events aboard the Renown would reveal, Buckland was unsure, and Hornblower was not.
The first witness called was the ship's doctor. Clive, yes, that was the fellow's name. A serious business to declare a captain unfit for command. Clive apparently had done so -- yet he looked decidedly uneasy as he took his place on the stand. Was he now questioning his own judgment? A firm testimony by the doctor would quickly determine the tenor of this court martial. A firm testimony could mean that the whole business would be over by the end of the day, with Renown's officers back about their business, leaving himself and his fellow jurors with no greater matter to discuss than the likelihood of obtaining a decent meal.
Sir Thomas was quick to put the question to the Renown's doctor. "Dr. Clive, I understand that Captain Sawyer was found unfit to command the Renown. You yourself came to that decision?"
"Well, I -- that is..."
"Come, come, Dr. Clive. You are under oath. Was the captain well or no?"
"He was -- temporarily indisposed. After his fall down the hold. " The man's wig was just slightly askew. The least he could do was present himself to the court well-turned out. Probably a drunkard, like so many ship's surgeons.
"So he was unfit for command, " Collins said.
"A bold choice of words, " Hammond interjected. A bold choice of words? A bold course of action for any doctor, and only defensible if the captain had indeed been unfit. But Clive was already starting to evade a direct answer.
"And if I may say so, sir, not worth a farthing. My consent was given under duress."
"Someone forced you."
"What did they do, put a gun to your head?" Collins felt like putting a gun to the man's head himself.
"Not as such, sir. We were under fire and in the heat of battle the decision was taken ......."
"To detain the captain?" Sir Thomas asked.
"Yes, " Clive agreed.
"And you yourself made this decision, I gather."
"No, sir. The decision was taken by Lieutenant Hornblower." For the first time, Hornblower turned his head and looked at the Renown's surgeon. His brow was creased a little; the man was worried no doubt, as well he should be. If he had usurped the power normally held by the ship's doctor...
"But surely Mr. Buckland was second in command. Why did he not give the order?" Collins asked, and for once Clive gave a direct and sensible answer.
"With respect, sir, but I think that is a question for Mr. Buckland."
Collins could see that Clive was vastly relieved to take his place amongst the spectators in the courtroom. He half expected him to snatch off his wig, and mop the sweat trickling down from underneath it. Devilish contraptions, those wigs -- Collins was happy that the fashion had changed. Perhaps the man's medical abilities were as antiquated as his choice of headgear, and his opinions as well.
Buckland appeared as unprepossessing as the surgeon. He sported a fresh wound on his forehead -- that might make him more sympathetic in the eyes of Hammond and Thomas -- Collins knew little enough of his fellow Captains to judge their reaction to an injury.
"And so I put the question to you, Mr. Buckland, why was the order given by Mr. Hornblower. He is only -- what, Third Lieutenant aboard the Renown? "
"Yes, sir. "
"Then why in God's name was the decision left to him?" snapped Williams. "I see you have been wounded, sir. Were you perhaps indisposed yourself at the time?"
Collins could see the man visibly relax. No doubt Williams had thrown him a lifeline, inadvertently or not.
"I had just been injured, sir." And now there could be no mistaking the look Hornblower was directing at his senior officer, though it was fleeting and instantly hidden by that impassive stare.
"And Mr. Hornblower was the only other officer present?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well, Mr. Buckland. Since you cannot add to our understanding of this particular event, I see we shall have to call on Mr. Hornblower. You may sit, sir."
Buckland's relief was even more evident than Clive's had been. The man had said so little -- 'I had just been injured' In his career in the Navy, Collins had seen officers stay at their post and in command of their men with limbs missing and their life blood pumping away. Perhaps the blow to Buckland's head had addled his senses.
Hornblower now stood. He kept his shoulders straight, his head high.
"So now we come to you, sir, " Sir Thomas snorted. "I suppose you will put the question off to a powder monkey!"
A small titter ran round the courtroom, and was hastily cut off by the banging of Sir Thomas's gavel.
"No, sir. The Renown was aground in Samana Bay and under fire from the Spanish fort. The captain appeared somewhat agitated, and I called upon Dr. Clive for his medical opinion as to the Captain's ability to command."
Aground. "And how may I ask did the Renown come to be grounded?" Collins asked.
"I was -- below decks, sir, and therefore cannot answer the question.."
"A prudent answer, sir, " Hammond said. "Nevertheless, you managed to find your way on deck, and instantly come to the conclusion that the Captain should be relieved of command. Quick thinking on your part, Mr. Hornblower."
"And left your station to do so, it would appear."
"No, sir. Mr. Bush, Mr. Kennedy and myself were attempting to kedge the Renown off the bar. I was merely reporting to Mr. Buckland our intentions to use the firing power of the guns ..."
"A desperate situation, it would appear. Yet you took the time to have the Captain declared incompetent. What did he do -- threaten your life with a pistol?"
Damn. That was exactly it. Collins could see from the tightening of Hornblower's jaw. His life threatened by the Captain, in the heat of battle?
"Come man, you are under oath, " Collins prodded him.
"He was agitated, sir. I do not hold him accountable for his actions."
"Good of you, sir, I must say, " Hammond said dryly. "I assume that Dr. Clive succeeded in inhibiting Captain Sawyer before he discharged his pistol."
"The pistol had already been discharged, sir."
"Then you were in no danger after all, Mr. Hornblower."
"No, sir, it later appeared not. But the Renown and her men *were* in danger, sir, and that was my first concern."
"Of course."
Collins had never listened to so many words that managed to explain so little. He certainly was none the wiser as to the events leading up to Sawyer's being relieved of command. He started to speak, but already Sir Thomas had carried on.
Deftly the senior Captain led Mr. Hornblower on to further describe the events immediately following Sawyer's detainment. The Renown finally shaken loose from the sand bar, and sailing to safety. A desertion of a number of the crew under cover of darkness. A bold plan to attack the Spanish fort overland.
"Your captain incapacitated, the crew deserting, and still Mr. Buckland chose to risk all in a potentially foolhardy scheme to attack the fort, without benefit of the Renown's guns?"
"Yes, sir, with our full support."
"May I ask why?" Hammond said.
"It was our duty, sir."
"Duty to whom, may I ask?"
"Duty to our captain, sir."
Good God, the man sounded sincere. Put the whole business of trussing up Sawyer like a chicken in a different light. At least the action could not be blamed on cowardice. And if Sawyer had survived to reach Kingston, he would have taken the glory, and the lion's share of the prize money. Any captain might pray for such subordinates.
"A happy day for James Sawyer when you four came aboard." Collins could not forbear to comment.
"Thank you, sir." By Jove, the man seemed pleased by the words. A guilty man would read something quite different into them, and respond defensively.
"You speak of duty, Mr. Hornblower." Hammond seemed less than pleased with the answer, though. "But I would speak to you of ambition. For a man of your years you have risen smartly through the ranks."
"I hold myself fortunate in my position, sir."
"And hungry to climb higher, I daresay." Hammond's voice droned on. Collins only half listened. .....vulnerable captain....leapfrog the chain of command....hungry enough......
The man was not on trial for showing initiative, after all. "Come, sir...."
Hammond squinted at him, and said " I *will* have my answer!" Williams brought his gavel down and the three captains stood.
"We are all agreed that Captain Sawyer's good name must be preserved?" Hammond asked. It was Hammond who had suggested -- no, ordered -- that they meet before adjourning for dinner. A decanter of port stood on the side board, and Sir Thomas poured a glass for the three of them.
"Of course." Collins rather thought Sawyer's good name was in little danger. An accident aboard ship, the captain injured and unable to command, responsibility for his ship passed on to the First Lieutenant, as was meet and right. The Spanish fort destroyed, and Spanish prisoners and prizes brought to Kingston. The Mona Passage free now from privateers.
"I am simply concerned that we need a clear outcome." Hammond persisted.
"This was bloody mutiny, after all, " Sir Thomas said."Let these men get off scot free, and mark my words, it'll happen again.
"What do you propose, Sir Thomas, that we hang them all from the nearest yardarm?" Collins asked.
"Oh, nothing as spectacular as that. But if there were one man...." Hammond mused.
"A scapegoat?" Like Byng. Executed for his failure to fully engage the French. No matter he had made his decisions without benefit of complete information. Someone had to take the blame.
"A guilty party. Maliciously motivated. Jealous. Ambitious."
"I say, that Hornblower chap seems very pleased with himself. Obviously pushed Mr. Buckland aside in his hurry to have the Captain restrained." Sir Thomas said.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Hornblower. I sat on his examination board in Gibraltar."
"Well, Sir Thomas, the man was on the verge of failing. Lucky for him, the Dons saw fit to choose that moment to send a fireship into the harbor. The upshot of it all was that Hornblower and Foster -- you remember old Dreadnaught Foster? -- damned difficult little man -- jumped aboard and steered the ship away from Pellew's Indefatigable."
"Ah, so the lad saved Pellew's ship." Collins said.
Hammond sent a sharp look his way. "That he did. Reckless action. The man obviously doesn't stop and think."
"But nevertheless..."
"He could not have made matters worse, I'll grant you that. But I fear his impetuosity may have led him to graver deeds. "
"Such as mutiny!" Sir Thomas' voice rang out sharply.
"Yes, mutiny, " Hammond said.
Hammond set the glass down on the table. Lucky he'd not broken it, the way he'd been gripping the delicate crystal. Picking up his bicorne, he clapped it on his head and said " I believe our dinner awaits us, gentlemen."
Dinner. Probably the reason Hammond had held out for the court-martial being held here at Admiralty House, rather than on the Renown, where it should properly be taking place. Certainly Kingston offered greater opportunity for culinary delights than the dining cabin aboard. But Collins missed the movement of a ship under his feet -- somehow the whole process seemed unreal and perhaps he could attribute his uneasiness to that fact.
"I don't like it, Matty, " Styles said. "The captain were mad, he were, we could all see that."
"Don't make a difference, Styles. You 'eard the articles o' war enough times t'know -- ye can't disobey a superior officer, 'n' that's what Sawyer was. "
Rank had its privilege, even when the rank was only that of warrant officer -- bo'sun and bo'sun's mate. They'd been given leave to attend proceedings, and were not expected back on board Renown until night fall. A good a chance as any to try out some good Jamaican rum at the Flying Fish, but Matthews would cheerfully have traded all his shore leave away to be back at sea, bucking a head wind and treacherous waves, enduring cold and damp and another meal of half-putrid salt beef and weevily biscuits. Back at sea, with Lieutenant Hornblower in his rightful place, on the deck of a man-o-war, not locked up in a dirty stifling gaol cell.
They'd all be at the bottom of Samana Bay, the whole bloody lot of 'em, if it hadn't been for Mr. Hornblower. And he didn't like by half the weasily words coming out of the mouth of that bastard Clive. And Buckland! Looking to finish what he'd started by sending Mr. Hornblower off to blow up the fort. A man with no conscience, indeed!
"Then 'ow's 'e goin' t' escape the noose?"
"'Cause they'll find out Sawyer was barmy. And if it 'adn't been for Mr. 'ornblower, they'd 'ave no Renown and no prizes neither!"
"But what of Captain Pellew? I 'eard 'e was s'posed to be there."
"Caught the Yellow Jack, they say. Goin' to die, most like." That worried Matthews more than he wanted Styles to know. Not the fact that Pellew might die, though Matty'd been proud to serve under him -- he was a fair man, and Matthews knew his bo'sun's rattan might have withered for lack of use, if he'd held his present rank back on the old Indy. No, Pellew knew Hornblower, knew he'd only act with good reason. He would have known the right questions to ask. Pellew would not see his boy hang. And he was Commodore now, had the rank to swing those others round to his way of thinking.
The door of the Flying Fish opened, and another man dressed in the uniform of the British Navy filled the entrance.
"There's that bastard 'obbs!" Styles started to rise from his seat, but Matthews was quick to gather a handful of his jacket and jerk him back down.
"That's all we need, " he grumbled, "You clapped in irons fer fightin' "
Hobbs glanced their way, hesitated and then took a seat on the other side of the room.
"'e'd like ter see Mr. 'ornblower swing, make no mistake about that, Matty. Stickin' up fer Sawyer when it were plain as the nose on yer face ......"
"'ed served with 'im a long time, Styles. S'pose we'd served with Mr. 'ornblower till he was a captain. And then s'pose 'e started t' act strange. Wouldn't we stand up fer 'im?"
Styles grimaced, and then drained his tot of rum. "I still say 'ed do fer our Mr. 'ornblower if 'e could!" He held up his empty glass and a serving girl hurried over.
Hobbs was still sitting by himself. A scattering of Renowns peppered the noisy crowd in the Flying Fish, and one or two looked his way, but no one had seen fit to join him. Perhaps Randall had taken the gunner's cronies with him when he'd deserted. Matthews had wondered about the wound on Hobbs' head that night. Hobbs had not taken part in the desertion, though whether that was due to himself or Randall, Mathews supposed he'd never know. But he hadn't missed the nod of the head Hobbs had given Mr. Hornblower when he'd returned from blowing up the fort. The beginning of respect there. Somehow, Matthews felt in his bones that Hobbs might at least be fair.
"You mark my words, Styles, by the end o' this, why, they'll be givin' Mr. 'ornblower a medal, and makin' 'im a Commander, fer what he did!"
"I'll raise me glass fer that, Matty!" and so Styles did.
"To Mr. 'ornblower!"
"And to us servin' with 'im till this bloody war is over!"
Matthews gladly drank. Despite his brave words, however, he was not nearly as cheery as he sounded. This was a court martial. And when court martials, and captains, and the Admiralty were concerned, anything might happen.
A guard swung open the cell door and Dr. Clive entered. Would there be news today, Bush wondered? The court-martial had been postponed, Clive had informed him yesterday, but had no more details to add. Another day to live, he supposed.
"Ah, Mr. Bush, and how are we doing today, sir!"
"I suspect you are doing much better than I, Dr. Clive."
In fact, he was feeling better. Surely if the wound were to become enflamed, it would have done so by now. And Clive seemed to agree with him, as he examined it. The doctor appeared somewhat agitated, though, as he replaced the bandage over Bush's mid-section.
"The court-martial, Dr. Clive?"
"Started today." He pulled the thin blanket over Bush's chest and stood upright.
Clive took a second to adjust his wig. "Some testimony was given. That was all."
"Testimony? Whose testimony? Come on, Dr. Clive, we have to know. Our lives depend on it...."
"Hm. Yes, Mr. Bush, I realize that. Mr. Buckland testified, and I -- I gave my account of events."
"Your account of events? I should like to hear that!"
"Mr. Bush! I have my own reputation to consider! I may not have been named in the charge to the court, but I am in a perilous position, no more than you!"
"I'm sure you are. So I gather you testified that Mr. Hornblower forced you to declare Captain Sawyer unfit for command. "
Clive thrust his hand inside his jacket and pulling out a small flask, raised it to his lips. Of course. The man had been sitting in a courtroom all day long. Bush supposed he was fortunate that the surgeon had come directly here, rather than stop at some tavern along the way, and quietly sink into oblivion.
"Well, Dr. Clive, I'm waiting! Did you accuse Hornblower ..."
"Not as such."
"Not as such. I see. Well, I suppose we can be thankful that Commodore Pellew is serving on the court."
"Why, yes. Both Hornblower and Kennedy served under him for many years. I should think that his knowing their abilities and devotion to duty will serve us well ."
"But Pellew is not on the court!"
Bush started to sit up, but Clive gently pressed him back onto the cot. Bush had never met Pellew but he knew his reputation. A dashing and gallant Captain, fair to his men. He'd sensed that there had been a special bond between Hornblower and Pellew -- on the few occasions when Pellew's name had been mentioned. In the best of all possible worlds, a man might expect to receive proper justice when brought to trial -- a proper justice based on truth. But this was not the best of all possible worlds. This was Kingston, Jamaica. The court was an Admiralty court. The charge was mutiny. And the penalty for mutiny was death. If Pellew were so inclined, he could guide the evolution of the "truth" in a favorable manner. Just as another man might do so in quite a different direction.
"And who *is* on the court, Dr. Clive?"
"Hm. Captain Hammond. Captain Collins. Captain Sir Thomas Williams."
The names meant little to him. He'd heard of Black Charlie Hammond, but only as a name dropped in a conversation. He'd heard of Captain Sir Thomas Williams, but once again only as a name dropped in conversation. Of Collins he'd heard nothing at all. Well, no point dwelling on the matter. The events transpiring in the courtroom were entirely beyond his control, and lying there fretting about them served no purpose.
"Now, I must see to my other patient, " Clive said, and turned to go.
"Dr. Clive!" Bush laid a hand on Clive's sleeve. "How is Mr. Kennedy?" he lowered his voice, although a quick glance in the direction of the other cot reassured him that Archie was asleep -- or unconscious.
"Are you asking me if he will live, Mr. Bush?"
Damn the man! Could he never give a straight answer? "Yes, Dr. Clive, that is precisely what I am asking."
"The ball is still in place, of course, and in my estimation has effected considerable damage to the internal organs. He is still spitting blood -- not a good sign...."
"Dr. Clive, will he live or no!"
"In my opinion -- no, Mr. Bush, I do not believe he will."
Pellew ill? Perhaps dying? But only two days previously, Pellew had been in his cell, speaking to him, speaking of the court-martial. He'd looked -- well, yes, he'd looked fevered -- but the cell was stiflingly hot, except for that slight breeze -- and Horatio expected that he himself might have looked fevered also. How could this be?
He'd caught sight of Captain Collins in the corridor outside the courtroom, and to the extreme displeasure of the man charged with guarding his person, had stopped Collins and inquired after his mentor and friend. The news of Pellew's battle with the dreaded yellow fever, coming so hard on the heels of the hideous wounds sustained by Archie and Mr. Bush, was almost unbearable. Was no one to survive this whole affair?
"I must stop in the sick bay, " he declared, as the red-coats wheeled towards the entrance of the prison block.
"Sorry, sir, don't have no orders regardin' that," the sargeant of the detail answered.
"Then I demand to see your commanding officer!" Damn, did the man think he was going to stage a daring escape, dragging two wounded officers behind him?
"Don't have no orders regardin' that either!"
"For God's sake, Mr. Hornblower, " Buckland whispered. "Must you always cause a stir?"
Neither the guard's obstinacy, nor Mr. Buckland's timidness would deter him now. He needed desperately to see his friends, and the thought of returning to his solitary cell without assuaging his loneliness and worry for at least a moment or two, suddenly seemed unbearable. He remembered his early days on Justinian, when he would have given anything, even his freedom, for some solitude. That solitude weighed heavily on him now.
"Your commanding officer -- is this his post?" Hornblower stopped at a doorway just inside the main entry.
"You'll be clapped in irons if you keep on!" the guard blustered, as only a man with a small measure of power can.
"What the devil's going on!" A man appeared in the very doorway Horatio had indicated, an officer of some standing judging by the decorations on his red tunic.
"Sir, this 'ere prisoner..."
"Well, bless my soul, I was right! It *is* you, Hornblower!" He turned to the guard, who in turn was staring at him with a shocked -- almost comical -- twist to his features. "You there -- take one of your men and return Mr. Buckland to his cell. You other two -- wait outside until you are required. Now, Mr. Hornblower, if you would follow me..."
Horatio felt just as bewildered as his guard, as he followed the officer into the small chamber that did indeed appear to serve him as an office. The man apparently knew him, though try as he might, Horatio could call up no answering sense of recognition. No matter. Perhaps now he could make his simple request known, and have it granted.
The man walked around behind a plain table which served him as a desk, its surface littered with paper, and took his seat. Horatio stood rigidly to attention before him, trying to dredge up from his memory that nondescript face. No, it was no good.
"Damned paperwork! " the man said, grabbing up a sheaf of paper, and then throwing it down in disgust. "Not quite what I had in mind when I bought my commission!" He looked up, and waved his hand towards a wooden chair. "Have a seat, Mr. Hornblower."
Who the devil could he be? Cautiously, Hornblower sat; somehow he felt even less at ease now.
"You don't remember me, do you, Mr. Hornblower?"
"Please accept my apologies, sir, but I do not."
"Oh, no apology necessary, I assure you. Some lemonade?" The officer reached over to a small sidetable, and lifting a jug, poured a glass of yellowish liquid.
"Um, yes, sir."
The glass was handed over, and another poured. The lemonade tasted good, and Hornblower realized he'd been thirsty. Nevertheless, he sipped slowly, and replaced the glass on the desk top still partially full.
"Muzillac. I was at Muzillac. Captain Wickham, though just a Lieutenant then. Major Edrington's second-in-command."
Hornblower started. Muzillac. Another disaster.
"I am sorry, sir, that you seem fated to always see me at my worst!"
"Nonsense, sir! I believe all our bones might now be whitening in France where it not for your brilliant deduction regarding the whereabouts of the Republican army."
"Major Edrington...."
"Yes, Major Edrington may have had his suspicions, but it was you, Mr. Hornblower, who came to the heart of the matter."
Horatio did not answer. What could he say? Perhaps Wickham was correct, but the whole affair was a disaster nonetheless. Unlike, he supposed, the case of Renown. A disaster for the four of them -- and Captain Sawyer and poor Wellard -- but a victory of sorts for the Admiralty and England.
"This court-martial -- as is usual with such affairs, I may presume that events are not as straight forward as they seem?"
"That is for the court to decide, sir."
"Hm, yes, of course. Forgive me, Hornblower, I was not attempting to...." His brow furrowed. "Damn, a bad business!"
And Horatio realized that perhaps he had one friend amongst those above him in rank and authority, and felt somewhat abashed at his bluntness.
"Now, as to that slight altercation which I interrupted earlier, " Wickham continued. "If there is any favor within my powers to give..."
"I wished only to visit the sick bay, " Horatio answered.
"Ah, yes. Lieutenants Bush and....?"
"Kennedy, sir."
"Ah, yes, Kennedy. In this matter at least I can be of service. I shall draft a standing order that you are to be escorted to the sick bay whenever you wish, with no strictures on your time. I assume you wish to proceed there now?"
"Yes, sir. You are most kind." Horatio stood.
"Would that all the petitions I receive were so easily granted." Wickham pushed back his chair and stood also.
A thought crossed Hornblower's mind. "Then perhaps, sir, you might grant me one more -- Mr. Bush and Mr. Kennedy might also enjoy some of your excellent lemonade."
Wickham chuckled. "Done! And for yourself?"
"Nothing, sir."
The sick berth was nothing more than a larger cell, more open to the airs, but circumscribed none the less with stone and bars. Two narrow cots stood side by side, each of them holding one supine body. Horatio knew from the comfort -- or lack of it -- of his own cot, that Archie and Mr. Bush would much prefer one of the Renown's hanging cots to these motionless beds.
The door clanged shut behind him, and for the first time Horatio was reminded of that much smaller gaol cell in El Ferrol. Wickham had made no mention of parole -- Horatio's word that he would not repay the boon granted him with an attempt to escape. Escape! He'd never once considered escape, because a freedom on the run, with a charge of mutiny hung round him like the vilest noose, was no freedom at all. And even when his warden was the Spanish enemy, rather than the British Admiralty, his escape had come from his ideals of honor and duty, and not from some brute attack on gates and locks. Of course, on that occasion, his conscience had been somewhat clearer.
He glanced across at Archie, and images of Spain once more arose in his memory. Finding Archie in El Ferrol had struck him with all the force of a true resurrection -- Mr. Kennedy, set adrift, lost, most probably dead. But there he was, alive, and eventually his spirit, as well as his body, had come alive too. This time he was not so sanguine in his expectation.
"He's sleeping, " Bush said.
"Sleeping, or unconscious, sir?"
"Dr. Clive has been giving him laudanum......"
"Laudanum! Of course, what else would he do!" Laudanum! Dear God! Did the man treat every affliction with that damned laudanum?
Bush must have seen those thunderous thoughts reflected on his face, for the Second Lieutenant was quick to speak. " He may not be entirely wrong, Mr. Hornblower. I don't believe he quite knows how to proceed with Mr. Kennedy's case. "
"You mean he is doing nothing!" Horatio walked to his friend's bedside. Archie looked pale, as though his life-force had been drained from him already. A thin trickle of dried blood was the only spot of color on the ashen skin and Horatio needed no medical experience to know what that, and Archie's labored breathing, might portend.
"I'm not sure there is anything to be done, Mr. Hornblower." Horatio turned back towards Bush.
"Another doctor...."
Bush shook his head. "Perhaps all we can do now is pray..."
"Prayers be damned!" He drew a deep breath and took a second to compose his thoughts. Unfair of him to take out his dark thoughts on Mr. Bush, who was responsible neither for Archie's present condition or the efficacy of his treatment.
"Forgive me, Mr. Bush. I suppose my nature prevents me from accepting the fact that nothing can be done. But laudanum...." He could have added that laudanum might have caused all their present difficulties. Who could tell now if Sawyer's madness had been ameliorated or exacerbated by Dr. Clive and his little bottles of oblivion.
"Mr. Kennedy has been in great discomfort. It is probably for the best...."
"And is that Mr. Kennedy's opinion also? Well, I suppose it makes no difference. " He paused for a moment. "But forgive me once again, Mr. Bush. How are you faring, sir?"
Bush plucked at the thin coarse blanket covering him. "Tolerably well. Barring any unforeseen setbacks. I hope to be on my feet in a day or so. And I must ask also, Mr. Hornblower, how *you* are faring."
Horatio shrugged. "The court-martial has started."
"Yes, Clive relayed that much information to me. He was less than forthcoming about his testimony, though."
"The man was in a difficult position. " *And I pushed him into it.* He was fortunate that the surgeon had said no more than he had.
"But more worrisome, Mr. Hornblower, is another small item of information I was able to wrest from Dr. Clive. I believe the Commodore is no longer on the court!"
"No. He is gravely ill with yellow fever."
"And surely that will affect the outcome of the court-martial."
" I would hope the facts will be weighed carefully, whether Pellew is on the court or not."
"Pellew not on the court?" A whispery voice came from the other cot.
"Archie!" Horatio covered the few paces necessary to reach his friend's bedside. "You're awake!"
"Somewhat. I'm afraid Dr. Clive's favorite panacea keeps my mind somewhat clouded." A ghost of Archie's old spirit caused his lips to curve upwards in an attempt to smile, and Horatio's heart ached. The Devil take both Sawyer and the Spanish!
"Laudanum, Archie? Has he forced it upon you?"
Archie closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them again. Their blueness seemed faded now and Horatio felt as though Archie's spirit was fading along with it. "No, Horatio, he has not. In the beginning, perhaps....."
A terrible cough racked Archie's body, and Horatio stood helplessly at his side. He could tell by the grimace on Archie's face, that a frightful pain accompanied his friend's struggle. Laudanum might be a curse to some, but it could also offer blessed relief.
Finally Archie lay quiet once again. At least no blood showed on his lips. Surely a good sign?
"Is there nothing that can be done?"
"I think not, Horatio. But you have more to concern yourself with than the state of my health. What is this of Pellew? Not on the court?"
"Apparently he has contracted yellow fever. His place has been taken by Captain Sir Thomas Williams. "
"But surely...."
"You think that Pellew would have -- influenced the court in some way?" Influenced the court? This was not the first time he had thought of Pellew's contribution to the proceedings in just such a light -- an influence. As the Renown had sailed onwards towards Kingston, none of them had discussed the fate which might await them there. Although there had been no discussion, nevertheless he suspected each had their own peculiar thoughts on the matter. He himself had spent little time in conjecture. Events had occurred, he had made decisions and taken actions which now could not be revoked. At some point in the future, he might be called upon to describe those actions. And defend them. He had never put faith in a miracle, as some might call the unexpected presence of Sir Edward Pellew in Kingston at just this point in time. And he had been right not to, for there would be no miracle. That Pellew would actively use his rank to sway the court had surely never been a possibility.
"He thinks of you as a...."
"He knows me as an officer who has served under him, Archie. He is constrained by the niceties of the law as much as any other man sitting in judgment. I am confidant that Captain Williams will carry out his duty to the court as well as Sir Edward would have." Horatio was *not* confidant on that particular point. The man seemed suspicious of every answer offered. But Archie need not concern himself with the details of questions and answers, recriminations and excuses.
The door banged open behind him. Damn! Wickham had given his word that there would be no time limits to his visit. He turned ... to find a soldier advancing into the cell, gingerly holding a tray containing an earthenware jug and some glasses.
"Lemonade, " the man barked. "Courtesy o' Captain Wickham." The man placed the tray on a small table nearby, and left. Courtesy of Captain Wickham. Horatio felt absurdly pleased. Wickham was obviously efficient, and a man of his word.
"Lemonade indeed!" Bush said. "And who do we have to thank for this?"
"Ah -- Captain Wickham, in charge of this garrison, sir. "
Horatio welcomed the small flurry of activity involved in pouring the lemonade, and carrying one glass to Mr. Bush and one to Archie. Bush managed to pull himself upright a little, so he could drink from the glass on his own. Archie of course could not.
Horatio slipped his hand behind Archie's head, and raised it so he could drink from the glass. 'You're going to drink and you're going to eat, and you're going to get better'. If only matters were that simple now. Archie seemed to have difficulty swallowing, and some of the liquid ran down over his chest, but he seemed to appreciate it none the less.
Archie's head settled back onto the thin pillow and he gave a small sigh.
"Will you come again?" he asked.
"I have been given leave by Captain Wickham to visit at any time."
"Captain Wickham. And why does the garrison commander look so fondly on his prisoners."
"He served with Edrington at Muzillac. I do not recall him, but he clearly seemed to remember me." Archie's eyes had drifted shut, and Horatio wondered whether he had even heard those last words.
For a few more minutes he stood at Archie's bedside. His friend seemed to have settled into a peaceful sleep, his chest rising and falling shallowly. Pellew's words, as he'd entered his cell two days ago, echoed in his mind. "That it should come to this!" If he'd stood quietly by after the disaster in Samana Bay, let Buckland sail off to Jamaica, Archie would not have sustained this grievous wound. No, his body might be whole, but his neck would still be in danger of stretching. Sawyer would still have fallen down the hold, and had command wrested from him. The charge would still have been mutiny ...
"Mr. Hornblower?"
Bush's voice jerked him back to the reality of the sickberth. Damn these tortuous thoughts. He needed a clear head, and clear thoughts, for the courtroom tomorrow. The lives of his fellow lieutenants lay, not just in the hands of Dr. Clive, but in his own ability to answer the questions put to him, so that those sitting in judgment on the four of them might have some understanding of the events which had taken place on board Renown.
"Just daydreaming, sir." He poured Bush another glass of lemonade, called the guard, and took his leave.
Back in his cell, he picked aimlessly at his supper. The loneliness of his position was weighing him down. Captain Wickham's kind order that he be allowed to visit the sickberth whenever he wished was much appreciated, but the visit had only served to make his own circumscribed quarters more unbearable. Damn! How dare he feel sorry for himself. He had come through all the fighting unscathed. He had suffered nothing but some piddling blows to his pride -- the hot shot debacle, for one thing. But even that had come right in the end.
Mr. Bush would mend. Archie? Bush seemed to think the only option now was to pray. Horatio supposed that miracles did happen, but they happened through some circumstance not yet understood by even the most learned of men. That a miracle might happen because he clapped his hands together and pleaded with some vague being in some vague location was a ludicrous thought that he could waste no time in entertaining. But if a miracle could be brought about by fervent wishes, than Archie might indeed have a chance. More to the point, if Archie could be tended by a physician more intuitive and less constrained by the ordinary than Clive, a miracle might indeed occur.
He thought back to the shore leaves he and Archie had spent in Waltham Chase, with his father. Dr. Hornblower had helped Archie then -- with his headaches -- and other matters weighing heavily on his friend's mind. If the doctor were here -- damn! He must not allow himself to wallow in these useless thoughts! Archie lay dying in a gaol cell -- that could not be changed. He and his fellow officers were on trial for their lives -- that could not be changed. The events leading up to the court-martial could not be changed either. Their futures now all lay with the nature of the questions put to Buckland and himself, and the answers the two of them gave. He had little faith in Buckland. Did he have faith in himself?
The plate of food in front of him no longer held his interest and he pushed it away.. Tomorrow the court would turn its attention to the events leading up to the attempted capture of the Renown by the Spanish prisoners and the death of Sawyer. At least on this his mind was clear.
Day 4
Collins found himself caught up in Lieutenant Hornblower's accounting of the taking of the fort at Samana Bay. His own rise through the ranks had been rather sedate -- he'd had the good fortune to be sponsored by a Rear-Admiral, his name put on the books long before he himself had set foot on the deck of a ship. He'd passed his examination for Lieutenant handily and at a young age -- he'd a head for figures, and his examination had dealt primarily with navigational matters. Looking back, he wondered if that too was due to the helping hand of his sponsor. Several years had passed, and he'd doddered away his service on ships that seemed always leagues away from any action. Then he'd had the infernal good luck to be Third Lieutenant on a frigate engaged in an action which saw the Captain and the First and Second luffs killed. The battle at that point was nearly won; he had only to rally the men round him, lead the boarding party onto an enemy bruised and bleeding and his promotion to Commander was assured. From Commander to Captain -- another pull of the string held by that obliging Rear-Admiral and then it was just a matter of staying alive. Now he was starting up the ladder, where nothing but death could stop him. Even here in Jamaica his luck had held, just as Sawyer's had run out. The Renown. A ship of the line. His own ship now.
But oh, how he envied those young men of Renown -- if not for their present predicament, at least for the giddy rush of excitement they must have felt as they realized the fort was theirs. Hornblower of course gave nothing away in his steadfast recounting of the events. But Collins fancied he could see the glitter in the young man's eye.
"An ingenious plan, Mr. Hornblower -- attacking the fort by an underground route." Hammond was asking.
"Thank you, sir."
"Leaving Mr. Bush and the rest of the contingent to fend for themselves. Did you know previously that there was such an underground route?"
"No, sir, but I surmised ...."
"You surmised. In other words, you guessed, did you not, Mr. Hornblower? "
Collins glanced over at Hammond. He simply did not understand the man. Must he look at every gallant act perpetrated by this young man in the light of what might have gone wrong, and not what invariably seemed to go right? He could not let this pass.
"Captain Hammond, with all due respect, the end result was a triumph. And then to hoist the Spaniards with their own petard, wouldn't you say..."
"Ah, yes, the hot shot. Nearly a disaster there, I fear. Were it not for Mr. Bush's intervention..."
"I am indebted to Mr. Bush." Hornblower answered.
"Foolhardy action, rash judgments..." Once again Hammond droned on. He seemed to have some kind of personal animosity towards the young man. Going all the way back to the fireship incident, perhaps? Hornblower had been transferred directly from Indefatigable to Renown, directly from the aegis of Commodore Pellew to that of Captain Sawyer. What little could Hammond know of the man?
"Come, Captain Hammond, that is the blackest interpretation of these events I can imagine!"
Mr. Hornblower was evidently not willing to stand silent as Hammond labeled him an irresponsible adventurer. " I only endeavor to do my duty, sir." By God, if the British Navy had more Hornblowers and fewer Bucklands, they'd have thrashed the Frogs to their knees by now.
"I think we shall be the judge of that, " Hammond said, and Sir Thomas brought his gavel down.
"Well, Collins, I think our course is set." Sir Thomas held himself stiffly erect, as though the rigidity of his own backbone could somehow counteract the infernal heat and humidity which even the cool stucco walls of the Admiralty building could not keep without. He seemed to succeed, at least partially, for the frills on his shirt were still crisp, and the skin of his face dry and colorless.
"Our course?" Collins himself had unbuttoned his jacket, and would have preferred to remove it altogether, and loosen the neck of his shirt also, but Captain Williams' perfection kept him as he was, in sweating discomfort.
"Hornblower. "
"I had heard he was one to watch....."
"Well, all of Kingston shall be watching when his neck is stretched."
Collins gaped. "But surely, Sir Thomas, there has been no evidence..."
"Evidence? No evidence you say! Why, the man browbeats the surgeon into declaring the captain unfit for command, and then dashes about taking foolhardy risks. He clearly has his eyes on something quite other than the good of the service. He has eyes on his own advancement!" Williams formed one of his thin hands into a fist and thumped the table.
"With all due respect, Sir Thomas, I fear you have been taking Hammond's pratings too much to heart."
"Damn your eyes, sir, are you insinuating that I cannot make a judgment in my own mind?" Two spots of color had now appeared high up on William's cheeks -- good God, the man looked like he was on the verge of an apoplexy!
"I was merely trying to say..." Collins stopped. What had he been trying to say? Sir Thomas was a Baronet, several orders of magnitude ahead of him on the seniority list, and some said quite influential in certain circles. It would do no good to alienate the man. Diplomacy was called for here; and of the utmost finesse. "We all abhor the very thought of mutiny, Sir Thomas. There is no dispute on that count. But the fact that Mr. Hornblower showed some initiative after ...."
"After he snatched command away from Captain Sawyer -- say it plain, man ...."
"I believe .... he could not have snatched command away from Captain Sawyer. Mr. Buckland was next in line as First Lieutenant, he then assumed command."
"Ah, Mr. Buckland." Captain Williams sniffed. "You think he was in command?"
"Of course."
"Then I can call you a fool, Collins. "
The three judges filed back into the courtroom and took their place at the long table at the head of the room. Following their example, Hornblower, Buckland, and the onlookers sat also.
Matthews followed Mr. Hornblower's testimony as he described the swaying up of the cannon, the attack on the Spanish ships, the advance of the rebel army, the blowing up of the fort, and their final sailing from Santo Domingo with three prizes of war, and a hold crammed with Spanish prisoners. Through Mr. Hornblower's words, he could see in his mind every detail of those daring events. That was the thing with Mr. Hornblower -- you never knew where'd you'd end up next, but somehow he always saw you safe. A man like that, why, you'd follow him into the jaws of hell, you would.
Those bastards sitting up there -- with their gold braid so heavy on their uniforms it were a wonder they could lever themselves up and down -- why, you'd think from the look on their faces that Mr. Hornblower spoke of ravishing their wives and daughters rather than soundly thumping the enemy . Matthews ventured his silent opinion that not a one of 'em knew anything about the jaws of hell. Now Captain Pellew were a different sort, all together. A fellow just knew that he'd have no fear of showing his gold braid up on the quarter-deck, as the bullets and shot and splinters flew; to let his men know he was fighting right there along of 'em. Hell, 'twould make no difference if Hornblower were a stranger to him -- certain sure Captain Pellew would follow every word, and know that the Navy would be a damn sight better off with more like him.
But these three....bah!
Hammond had sat on that examining board when Mr. Hornblower stood for his lieutenant's exam. The Indy's might all be dead if Mr. Hornblower hadn't steered that fireship away. Damn lucky for 'em all that he'd been ambitious that night, for sure. From the way Hammond were carrying on so, he'd most likely swear that Mr. Hornblower'd done it only to make Lieutenant 'cause he'd botched the exam.
And Williams -- A Sir, like the good Captain Pellew. No other likeness though, Matthews would bet on the grave of his mother. He sat there with his pasty face all screwed up. Hadn't said much, so far, but a fellow could see he thought Hammond had the right of it.
Now, the last fellow -- Captain Collins -- well, he didn't look such a bad sort. Sort of square and steady -- Matthews could picture him foursquare on the quarter-deck, like a scrappy little dog. Not that he liked 'im going on about Mr. Hornblower's ideas. Best not give Hammond any more shot for his cannon.
Matthews watched as Lieutenant Buckland stood, and started to relate the details of the Spanish surrender. He'd nearly done for 'em all, firing on the slaves while his men were on their way to attacking the fort. Without that gunfire, the men of Renown would most like come upon the Dagos in their sleep, and walked in nice and easy. And that Collins seemed the only one to mention the incident.
And now the bloody bastard was crowing about the destruction of the fort. Not like he'd laid his life on the line to do the job.
"You say Mr. Hornblower stepped forward and volunteered to fire the fort." Matthews didn't like the sound of Williams' voice. And he liked Buckland's answer even less.
"Yes, sir."
Matthews had guessed already about the nature of Mr. Hornblower's volunteering. Buckland lacked the guts to order his Third lieutenant to certain death, so he'd used the force of his office to have him volunteer. Pellew asked much of his men also, but he'd not leave anyone, not the smallest powder monkey, if a rescue could be attempted without risk to his ship. And damned if Matthews could see where the risk to Renown had lain. The rebels might have had ships, but none of them lay in Samana Bay. There was no further danger to Buckland's ship in launching a boat. And indeed, the three of them -- Hornblower, Bush and Kennedy -- had been rescued in a timely manner, with no effect on the small squadron of ships.
Not that he'd expect Buckland to open his mouth and let spill a tale of his black deed. And no questions were asked. A lieutenant volunteers for a dangerous duty. An acting captain decides he cannot risk his ship to take him off. The captain was almighty God on board ship, weren't he? And these three buffoons saw nothing odd? Pellew would have! Pellew would smell something here, damned if he wouldn't!
"Mr. Hornblower again, I see, " Hammond commented. "Rather quick to push his way forward, I would say. How do you see him, Mr. Buckland?"
"I -- I would say he has a precocious talent, sir."
"Well, that's certainly one way of looking at it."
Precocious. Matthews wasn't quite sure what that word meant. But certain sure Mr. Hornblower had a talent and Buckland had none.
A precocious talent. One way of looking at it. An excellent way of looking at it, Collins thought. Why, if it hadn't been for Hornblower, the Renown's sailing to Santo Domingo would have ended up a pointless exercise, with nothing to show for it but a Captain confined to his quarters and a few shot holes. Oh, he supposed Captain Sawyer would still be alive, had Buckland chosen the prudent course and sailed for Kingston immediately. Nevertheless, if all His Majesty's ships held the safety of the Captain to be the foremost of their priorities, than that fellow Bonoparte would no doubt even now be raising a glass in London itself.
"And what happened then?" Hammond asked.
"Sir?" Buckland seemed to sag. Collins saw a little of himself in the aging First Lieutenant; in other circumstances, he too might still be striving for a command of his own. He'd not been fortunate to have a man as able as Lieutenant Hornblower under him, yet he'd managed some modest successes nonetheless. And here Buckland, given the gift of a resounding victory by his Third Lieutenant, had let it slip away. Oh, he'd heard the stories, all right. Buckland's ignominy was the talk of Kingston. And while he knew that any officer, no matter how capable, could stagger through no fault of his own, he could easily believe, watching Buckland squirm under the scrutiny of the court, that the debacle had been solely due to his incompetence. Damned if he wanted the man to continue as his First Lieutenant!
"Your ship was taken by the Spanish prisoners, was it not?" Sir Thomas continued."A calamity, sir!"
"While you lay dreaming in your bed, " Collins could not resist adding. A titter worked its way around the courtroom. " I fear it will be your epitaph -- here lies Buckland of the Renown, the captain who was caught napping!" The titter had now become full-scale laughter. Sir Thomas' gavel banged down, and gradually the noise died away.
"Thankfully there was one fellow officer..." Collins continued.
"You speak of Mr. Hornblower!" Good God, the man was actually raising his voice! "Well, I'll tell you something...."
Hornblower had now turned his head and was watching Buckland closely. What the devil is the man going to say, Collins wondered. Hornblower seemed expectant, as if he knew...
"Have a care, sir," Hammond cautioned.
But Buckland was not to be gainsaid. "The reason I'm standing here is because Captain Sawyer was mentally incapable of commanding a vessel, he endangered the lives of every man on board that ship!"
Sir Thomas brought the gavel down with such force that Collins flinched, half expecting the head of it to fly off.
"Captain Sawyer was one of Nelson's own, " Sir Thomas spluttered, " Do not impugn his good name!"
But Buckland was not to be silenced, neither by the force of the court, as represented by Sir Thomas' gavel, nor by Sir Thomas himself.
"Damn you, I will speak! Captain Sawyer was unfit to command his ship for one reason and one reason only -- he didn't fall into that hold, he was pushed!"
Dear God! Pushed! Surely this was the raving of a desperate man!
"By whom, sir! " Hammond asked.
"By Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower!" There were no titters now, nor a hint of laughter, but gasps and mutterings filled the room. And Collins himself had gasped as Buckland had thrown the accusation out. Sawyer pushed by Hornblower? Certainly not! Collins stared at the young man, whose death sentence had most certainly just been assured, and was chilled to realize that his impassive face held no hint of surprise at the accusation of his superior officer. Throughout the trial, he'd kept most emotion hidden; was this a further example of his stoic demeanor or .... did Buckland speak the truth, and Hornblower had only heard what he expected? Surely Buckland's words were a petty, if dangerous, attempt to hide his own incompetence by deflecting the court's interest onto someone else. A scapegoat.
Damn! Why had he made that mocking statement -- simply for a moment's hilarity at the discomfiture of another officer? Did they not all laugh because any one of them could have been standing in Buckland's place, and their show of glee was partly relief that indeed on this occasion at least, they were not.
"Is there anyone else who can support this?" Hammond asked. For the first time, Collins welcomed one of Hammond's questions.
"Yes, I believe there is. " And Buckland turned to stare at a stocky man in a petty officer's uniform, sitting near the back of the court.
The gunner's mate stopped in the midst of the roadway, and turned his dour face towards Matthews. He looked no pleasanter than he had the day before, but the day before he was the enemy. Now the matter was not so clear cut.
"So what do we want wi' the likes of 'im?" Styles muttered at Matthews' back. Earlier, before Hobbs' testimony, Styles had called the man a Judas, and spit in his face. Not an action befitting a bo'sun's mate perhaps, but one Matty could understand. But the man had surprised them both, and no telling how surprised that bastard Buckland had been.
"Ye might want t'take back yer spit, " Matthews replied. "Don't seem like 'e's earned it after all. Mr. 'obbs, a word if ye please."
Hobbs glanced behind him, as though checking that he could escape through the motley mix of Marines, sailors, ladies both of high station and low, and blacks, or whether any of his belowdeck cronies were in sight.Matthews wouldn't have blamed him if he'd made off right now, not after Styles had accosted him in front of that infernal gallows. Matthews didn't care to even think on those gallows, and who might be swinging from them in a day or two.
"Mind yer tongue, Styles, " he whispered, as the two men approached Hobbs.
The gunner's mate made no attempt to speak. A right sour bastard, Matty found him to be, but a fighter, he had to admit, and loyal to his captain, even when the man turned mad as a hatter.
"Mr. Styles here .... " and he gave his companion a sharp nudge, "has somethin' 'e wishes t'say to ye."
"Matty..." Styles hissed.
"Do it, Styles!"
And so he did, though the mumbled apology was less then gracious. Hobbs nodded his head in response, and turned to leave.
"A question, Mr. 'obbs, if you please. Ye said that ye didn't know who pushed the Captain..."
"That's what I said."
"An' it's the truth, is it?"
"I was under oath."
"Mr. Buckland seemed t'think ye'd go along with 'im. Ye 'ad a chance to avenge yer Captain...."
"I wasn't there. I -- Captain Sawyer -- " Hobbs fell silent.
"The man were mad!" Styles said.
"Styles!" Matthews knew he'd never get Styles to hold his tongue. Thank the Lord his mate'd not been called in front of the court. They'd all of 'em be clapped in irons, they would!
"If your Mr. Hornblower pushed 'im, then he deserves to hang, " Hobbs said. "But I didn't see it, so I couldn't say. He treated my captain with dignity when he died, and he said aught against 'im in court."
"And you wasn't there?"
"I said so, didn't I?" The man might have startled them all with his testimony, but he was no more cheery in his manner. "But there was something odd going on, make no mistake." Hobbs adjusted his jacket and started to edge away from them. "I expect we'll all find out the truth, won't we? Your Mr. Hornblower won't lie under oath, just as I did not." With this, the gunner's mate fell back amongst the passersby and melted from sight.
"Come on, Styles, " Matthews said. He knew a boat would be waiting for them at the jetty; they'd spent a few pence at the local inn, but he'd not felt like carousing, nor had his mate, this once.
"And what do ye think Mr. 'ornblower's goin' to say tomorrow?" Styles asked, as they walked along the dusty roadway.
"Like 'obbs says, Styles. 'e'll be under oath, and 'e'll tell the truth."
"But Matty, what if....." Matthews didn't need to hear the end of that thought. He didn't like to think on it, he didn't. The captain fell, and that was that, though he'd heard the rumors going the rounds of the fo'c'sle. 'Should we look to our conscience where the Captain was concerned', he'd asked Mr. Hornblower, as they'd stood side by side on the deck of Gaditana. 'Yes, even there', Mr. Hornblower had answered him.
They'd passed the gallows a few minutes back, but the noose seemed to be swaying in front of his eyes still. If Mr. Hornblower stood in that courtroom on the morrow and swore that he'd had aught to do with the Captain tumbling down that hold, would his words see an end to the whole affair? He himself would be willing to state on oath that the Captain had been mad, during that sorry attack on the Spanish fort. He could still see the useless puffs of rock dust, as the Renown's shot slammed harmlessly into the cliff face. And that gut-wrenching lurch, as the ship ran aground. Why, without Mr. Hornblower, they'd all have been blasted to pieces, and none of them'd be here in Kingston to tell of it.
No, he couldn't believe that Mr. Hornblower would've pushed Captain Sawyer so cold-blooded like, no matter what. He'd say so and they'd all be back on board Renown, ready to fight the enemy, who they should be fighting, and not themselves. Everything would be all right.
The day passed interminably. Bush had attempted to sit up; he'd managed to stay upright for a few minutes but then gratefully maneuvered himself back to a prone position. He felt so helpless. His fate was being decided by others, and he lay here powerless. Though what good could he do if he were seated with Buckland and Hornblower in the courtroom? Lend his voice to the descriptions of Sawyer's increasingly erratic behavior?
Kennedy had been drifting in and out of consciousness all day. Even the laudanum seemed to have little effect now; his struggle to breath and his involuntary moans of agony were painful to listen to. Where the devil was Clive? More to the point, what the devil could Clive do now to help Renown's fourth lieutenant. Well, perhaps Kennedy were better out of this whole sorry mess.
As though in answer to his silent question, Clive appeared in the corridor outside the cell, and was admitted by the the guard. He turned first towards Bush, but Bush waved him away. "See to Mr. Kennedy, if you please, Dr. Clive. I believe I will live."
Clive, for once, did not argue.
"Do you know who I am?" Clive said, and Bush could see that Archie was lucid once more.
"You're Clive, you old fool!" Bush had to smile. Mr. Kennedy had not lost his quick tongue. Hornblower and Kennedy made an interesting contrast. During his first days on board Renown, Bush had not quite known how to read Hornblower. He seemed to hold himself aloof, his face a mask. Even during the despicable baiting and beating of Wellard, the third lieutenant remained impassive, with only Kennedy speaking out against Sawyer's actions. To no avail, of course. Sawyer was captain after all, and Kennedy's words futile or worse.
Only gradually, over time, did Bush realize that Hornblower's face was indeed a mask, a mask that cloaked an inventive mind and staggering fearlessness. Fearless but never foolhardy. He weighed the odds, that was for sure. Hard to believe that Buckland sounded the fire-brand during that ill-fated meeting in the bowels of the ship, and Hornblower the calm reasoner. Had Sawyer's fears of mutiny, and his subsequent fall down the hold, not changed the situation so dramatically, would Horatio have supported Buckland in his bid to usurp command? Would Buckland, in the end, have balked at the last moment? Easy to talk -- down there in the hold -- easy to be brave in the dark.
Bush knew one fact for sure. Once Hornblower had determined a course of action, he pressed forward -- not unmindful of repercussions -- but in spite of them, because he believed that the course of action was correct. That took bravery of a special nature.
The barred door clashed open once again. Hornblower himself this time. For a fleeting second, Bush glimpsed a frightening grimness on the man's face, but even as he watched, the mask slipped into place and Horatio could have been coming from his lover's bedchamber, rather than a court of death.
Hornblower looked in his direction, nodded his head and then turned to Kennedy. A few words spoken and then Clive was shaking Hornblower's hand. Good God, that looked like a good-bye! What the devil had happened? Was the court-martial done with? If so, with no good result, judging by that initial look on Hornblower's face. Bush lay very still, and strained his ears to catch the words exchanged between the two men.
"And when they ask you, how did Sawyer come to fall down the hold..." Archie's voice, stronger than Bush could have believed possible.
"Are you asking me that question now?"
"No, I am not." God, even the man's best friend was afraid to ask, afraid to ask that damning question. Bush remembered the one occasion he had attempted to bring clear in his mind just what might have happened -- Horatio had given some meaningless answer about Sawyer overbalancing and then Wellard had interrupted their conversation. Horatio's face might appear masked, but by that time Bush had realized that if one looked carefully enough, one could see... And what had he seen? Evasion? Not even quite that. But he felt quite clearly that Sawyer had not simply overbalanced. So he never asked again.
"Then I will answer it when the time comes. Until then, I see no reason to speculate." There it was again. Clive had been charged with prevarication, and the surgeon was certainly guilty of it; but another man from Renown might also be charged with the same sin.
Hornblower, giving a small nod in Bush's direction, stood at the doorway until the guard fitted his key in the lock and then swung it open. In a moment he was gone.
Another shockingly rough cough pulled his attention back to the man in the other cot.
"Good God, Mr. Kennedy! What the devil..."
Kennedy was attempting to pull himself upright -- attempting, but failing miserably. He struggled a second or two longer, then sank back onto the cot.
"I must be able to stand, " he gasped.
"Stand? Have your senses left you, man?"
"Tomorrow..." Archie paused, took several shallow breaths, then continued. " I must testify in front of the court."
Testify? Bush knew he had not overheard all the conversation amongst Kennedy, Hornblower and Clive, but he'd certainly not reached that conclusion from what words he had managed to grasp. It appeared that Hornblower would be asked a very damning question but.....
Suddenly the pieces all flew together in his mind, and he knew exactly what Mr. Kennedy planned on the morrow. He intended to take the blame. He intended to stand -- if indeed he could stand -- and confess to pushing Sawyer down that infernal hatchway. And hope that the confession would appease the three captains sitting in judgment over the Renown's lieutenants.
"Mr. Kennedy...."
Archie coughed again, and a shimmer of pain ran over his features. The man was barely surviving lying quietly in his cot -- how the devil would he manage to appear in a courtroom? Gingerly, Bush levered himself upright, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. The stitches pulled with a sharpness that made his head swim. For a moment or two he remained motionless, then he cautiously took his weight on his legs, leaning back against the edge of the cot for support. There -- he was at least upright, and once the spinning in his head stopped, he found he could take the few steps to Archie's side without folding up into a heap on the floor.
"What are you doing?" Archie whispered.
"The laudanum..." Clive had left the bottle and a glass on a small table beside Kennedy's bed, but it was awkwardly placed and Bush knew that Kennedy could not reach it on his own.
"No. No laudanum. I must keep my head clear."
"Just a little, Mr. Kennedy. To dull the pain."
He poured a small measure into the glass, and hoped he had judged the draught correctly. Certainly Clive had given a larger dosage than this, but the larger dosage had resulted in Archie passing out. Carefully, he assisted Kennedy in the taking of it, and then gratefully returned to his own cot. But he did not lie down. He had to know.
"Mr. Kennedy, I suspect you plan to confess to the court -- that you, and you alone pushed Captain Sawyer down the hatchway. Am I correct?"
"It must be done, Mr. Bush."
"But I also suspect that this confession will be a lie. Am I correct in this also?"
"Why would I lie?"
"To save your friend." To save Hornblower. Saving Hornblower would undoubtedly save himself and Mr. Buckland also, but Mr. Kennedy would not have the first and second lieutenants in mind. He felt no resentment. In his years of service, he'd learned that some situations existed, and you accepted them and that was that. "What *did* happen down there in the hold? You were there, after all. "
Archie remained silent for so long that Bush thought he must have dropped off again. I have no right, he thought, to bedevil the man this way. What small shreds of strength he might have left, had best be hoarded for his fool-hardy plan.
"I -- I'm not sure. But I was to blame. I advanced on Sawyer, he retreated, and the hatchway was open behind him."
"But surely that means he overbalanced and I believe we need not quibble about the precise meaning of that word. You think Hornblower will say that he pushed him?"
"I believe so. If the question is put in exactly those words. Something else happened down there, Mr. Bush. But it happened so quickly that I'm unclear in my mind exactly what I saw. As the Captain started to overbalance I tried to reach him but I could not move fast enough. But Wellard was there, and Mr. Hornblower, and both had their arm outstretched. "
"And you think that one or both of them might have assisted his fall? Surely their reaction was only natural -- to reach out as Sawyer fell, even though in all likelihood there was nothing they could do at that point."
"Perhaps you are right." Archie closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "But why -- you must have heard his answer to me."
"I did."
"If he did not push Sawyer -- then why not say to me -- when they ask the question, I shall answer -- I did not push the captain. He wanted to know, Mr. Bush, whether I was asking him that question now. Dear God, I was afraid to ask. "
*Just as I was afraid to ask, after that one occasion*. And if Kennedy had feared asking the same question, then he must have sensed that Hornblower was indeed hiding something.
"But no matter, " Kennedy went on. "Were he to answer no to the question, the court would not be appeased. I fear they are looking for blood. Well, mine has been spilt already -- let them have what little is left."
"Mr. Kennedy..."
"I'm dying, am I not? Come, Mr. Bush, do not treat me like a child. I see it in Clive's face when he looks at me, I see it in your face now, and I feel it in my own body. I only pray to God for strength enough to see this whole business through -- I have no fear of the rope for I'll cheat that handily enough."
"But surely -- a clerk could take your statement..."
"No. A piece of paper can be waved away. I must meet their eyes when I speak. I must."
Damn! He hated the small rectangle that was his whole world now. Best that tomorrow would see an end to it, one way or the other. He had told Archie there was no reason to speculate. But speculate he must, for the question would be asked, and he would be required to answer.
If they had stood together..... Buckland had snapped, after that boorish laughter in the courtroom, after Captain Collins had pounded home the brutal facts of Buckland's incarceration in his own cot. Collins had presented the only reasoned voice during this whole court-martial, in marked contrast to Sir Williams' hatred of all mutineers and Hammond's distaste for acts of what he perceived as unreasonable ambition. And yet it was Collins' words had driven Buckland to make that accusation...
The man was afraid. Horatio knew that. The First Lieutenant had never expected to find himself in such a desperate circumstance. Somehow, he had counted on the staid Admiralty accepting that one of 'Nelson's Own', as Williams insisted on labeling Sawyer, could be relieved of his command without question. Then the prevarication of Clive. And finally, Collins and his goading.
Easy to blame Clive, or Collins. Easy to blame Buckland himself. The man was weak. "I should have acted differently," Horatio said out loud. The sound of his voice seemed to echo in the damp confines of the small cell, and he stopped his pacing, shocked that he had spoken. The guard was not visible, but he knew the man loitered close by. Best not give him words to pass round the garrison.
The sun had set. Horatio fumbled with the lantern and managed to light it. The glow at least was comforting, though he had no need of a light. Here he was denied even the company of his few volumes to while away the hours.
*I must think, I must.*
No, he could blame no one but himself for Buckland's words. He himself had driven the Renown's 1st Lieutenant to make that desperate accusation. Hammond had labeled him hungry. Buckland had called him a man in a hurry. He supposed he had appeared that way to Buckland. His only goal had been to see the Renown's orders carried out, to see the enemy bested. Or did Hammond and Buckland see something in him that he himself could not admit?
If he had been more circumspect in his actions, more convoluted in his suggestions.... Perhaps the suggestions should have come from Mr. Bush. Perhaps....
It was no use. What was done was done. And tomorrow the question would be asked. Did you push Captain Sawyer down the hatchway.
Others had asked him that question -- Buckland, Mr. Bush. Even Archie, just a few hours ago. He had given no suitable answer to any of them. But now he must frame an answer for the court on the morrow. He supposed he and Buckland had more in common than the commission of Lieutenant. He had held the memory of those few minutes down in the close confines of the Renown's hold at a distance, as Buckland had also chosen to ignore what might await them in Kingston. But now that memory must be brought up close and examined.
He had watched from his hiding place as Sawyer and Hobbs and the men had entered the confined space, looking for mutineers. And he'd watched as Hobbs and the others left their Captain alone. What he had not expected was Archie's appearance. He'd thought himself alone , and the others off to a place of safety. He'd hid in the shadows and watched as Archie advanced, and Sawyer retreated.
Why had he not cried out? Sawyer held a pistol in either hand. At any moment the Captain could pull the trigger and Archie would die. Or had he feared that an outcry from the dark would startle the Captain and provoke just such an action? Or had he been fascinated by the slow inexorable movement of Sawyer's feet back towards that gaping open hatchway?
Only when Sawyer teetered on the edge did he spring forth from his hiding place. Inexplicably, Wellard was there first. Wellard's arm had reached out, and his own had reached out also. To save or......
Horatio paused in his pacing, and fitting his fingers around the bars on the small window, he stared out. A few ships' lights showed in the distance, and somewhere a man laughed. To save or.... He closed his eyes, as though to see the scene more clearly. Sawyer starting to fall. His reaching out. And he knew that in that instant a thought had passed through his mind, a flickering faint thought, just a fragment of an idea really, a tenuous picture that appeared and disappeared so rapidly..... A picture of Sawyer, on the deck below, injured or worse....
Dear God! The coolness of the iron bar against his hand suddenly became the stuff of Sawyer's coat as he touched him. Touched him. Pushed him. No matter that at that instant, perhaps neither he nor Wellard, even acting in concert, could have saved the man. No, the time for salvation had been earlier, before Sawyer's feet reached that yawning emptiness. He'd done nothing. He'd made no sound. He'd done nothing. And even at the end, his gesture had not been a gesture of salvation.
Well, he had his answer. And the court would have their answer. Another man might lie, he supposed. He felt no moral superiority knowing that he was compelled to tell the truth. Whether a lie would save him or not, he would never know. Whether the truth would save Buckland, Bush and Kennedy, he would learn on the morrow.
Never, during Sawyer's most irrational moments, had Horatio entertained the notion of removing him by physical violence. Such was always a possibility of course, for any of them. Those two French frigates -- a stray ball from one of them might have taken Sawyer's head off. Or he might have fallen down a companionway at any time, drugged as he often seemed to be, with Clive's laudanum. Or the night Sawyer had come upon him, brandishing a pistol. The man might have stumbled, the pistol gone off accidentally, the captain killed.
Horatio found himself smiling ruefully. He'd forgotten about that night. Had that incident in the hold never happened, nor the attempt by the Spanish prisoners to take Renown, if Sawyer had lived to reach Kingston, why his own life might still be forfeit, he supposed. Asleep on watch. He'd been in Sawyer's power, right enough. The Articles of War were quite clear on that point. 'No person in or belonging to the fleet shall sleep upon his watch, or negligently perform the duty imposed on him, or forsake his station, upon pain of death'. Of course, there was some leeway on this particular charge --' or such other punishment as a court martial shall think fit to impose, and as the circumstances of the case shall require'. Matthews had tried to cheer him with his own experience -- a flogging instead of a hanging.
But for other charges there were no options. 'If any person in or belonging to the fleet shall make or endeavor to make any mutinous assembly upon any pretense whatsoever, every person offending herein, and being convicted thereof by the sentence of the court martial, shall suffer death.' That, he supposed, covered all four of them down in the hold. There was no convenient escape in that particular Article, no exceptions when the captain was irrational, a danger to the ship, and her crew.
And again, 'If any officer, mariner, soldier or other person in the fleet, shall strike any of his superior officers' -- death again. Once more he felt Sawyer's body against his hand, his fingers not clutching to catch hold of the coarse wool, but his palm flat.
Buckland had worried about being double-damned. To be damned once would do for them all, Horatio had assured him. Double damned he himself was for sure, and to be damned once would do for him.
He suddenly realized that he'd been gripping the bars so fiercely he might almost have expected them to break free under the force. Carefully he extended his fingers, easing out the cramps, and dropped his hands to his side. No cooling breeze blew through those bars this evening. He felt hot and sticky; what wouldn't he give to feel the cooling sea water from the washdeck pump sluicing over his body once again. But even that had nearly ended in disaster. Were it not for Matthews and Styles.......
The force of wind and weather and raging seas, the vagaries of enemy shot and shell, the ever-present risk of sickness and injury -- one expected these to be capricious in their choice of victim. The irrationality of a mind diseased was a far more formidable foe to battle. Looking back, he realized he had regrets. Had he been too forward in his ideas, too relentless for Buckland's abilities? Had he been less than diplomatic in his dealings with Clive? Could a more experienced officer have perhaps persuaded Clive to declare the Captain unfit without need of meetings in the hold, with the concomitant horrific fact of Sawyer's tumble. Or would any attempt to run the ship in a rational, realistic manner been fated to founder? The Captain had a God-like authority on his ship. And in the Admiralty's eyes, the officers of the Renown had flouted the rule of God.
No, he might have been inept in his methods, but he could not in all conscience have stood by and let Sawyer sail them all to perdition. The Renown had completed her mission; her Captain had died in battle. And he, in all likelihood, in the end would be just one more casualty.
He blew the dim light out, and lay down on his cot. Perhaps he should believe his words to Archie. Until then, he would speculate no further. After all, anything might happen. He'd already been surprised this day -- not by Buckland's damning statement, but by Hobbs' failure to avenge his Captain. Indeed, anything might yet happen.
Day 5
Horatio checked his timepiece. The guard had arrived a few minutes early and he realized that he just had time to stop in once more at the sickbay. He harbored no illusions about Archie's condition, just as he harbored none in regards to his own fate. Any time spent with his friend might be all the time they had left.
The guard of course grumbled. But Horatio had no need to mention Wickham's name to have his wishes obeyed. Silently he thanked the man who had made his sojourn here at least a little easier to bear. He thought back over the conversation he and Archie had shared the previous day. He must look cheerful. Let Archie believe that the question which would be asked of him this morning posed no threat to his future. Let Archie believe that all would be well.
The sight of the empty cot did not immediately register. He'd even prepared the words he would use, and now that those words did not suit, he could only ask "Where is he?"
This morning Bush was on his feet. One of them at least seemed to be progressing. "Oh, he's up and about."
Up and about? What the devil did that mean? Bush was up and about too, but he had not mysteriously disappeared. Up and about? He was hardly out seeing the sights of Kingston. Perhaps Clive had taken him elsewhere, to treat his wound perhaps...
"I was hoping to see him before I was recalled."
"And see him you shall..." God, what was Bush saying! He'd come to stand close to the bars, as though to.....
The awful certainty crashed down around him. "Where is he!"
"Wait, man, wait .... it must be done!"
It must not be done. Frantically he hammered on the door which had already been locked shut behind him. "Marine!" It must not be done.
The guard had to run to keep up with him. He must reach the courtroom, he must. Surely they would not start proceedings, call a new witness, with the accused not seated. He would demand to testify first. Archie would kill himself doing this! How the devil had he managed to even rise from his bed! Damned fool!
The walk to Government House seemed interminable. "Can't you hurry!" he barked at his guard, as they lagged along behind him.
"Cor, sir, we can't keep up. "
"Never seen a man so eager to hang!" another man muttered, but they could have been saying anything , for all he cared.
Finally they were up the stairs and down the hallway to the courtroom. But even before he reached the doorway, he could hear the loud chatter from within. Good God, had he testified already...
But no. A quick sweep of the room showed that the long table at the front was empty of the gold braid and epaulettes of high rank. So proceedings had not begun for the day. He was in time...
A small knot of men were clustered near the back of the room. Clive, Matthews, Styles, several men he did not recognize. At first he could not make out what attracted their attention, but as one face and then another and another turned his way in shock, he knew. Men moved aside as he approached and now he could see.... Oh dear God, not Archie!
Quickly he dropped to one knee. Archie lay there, his head cradled on Matthew's knee, blood trickling from his mouth. His friend's blue eyes met his own, and he tried to speak, but only a strangled noise could be heard.
Horatio framed Archie's face with his hands. "Ssh, Archie, ssh" he said. "You must lie still. Let Dr. Clive help..." but as he searched Clive's face for some hope, any hope, all he could see was a shake of the head.
"Horatio, " Archie croaked, and another freshet of scarlet gushed from his mouth, the light seemed to dim from his eyes, and his head fell to one side.
"Dr. Clive?" Horatio whispered desperately, but he knew the answer, even before Clive placed his fingers to Archie's neck, and then shook his head once more.
Oh, Archie, why, why! His eyes were blurred, and he knew how close he was to tears. If Archie had stayed in his cot, if only ... Archie, you did not have to do this thing! Gently he laid his friend's head back down. If only he'd lied to him, told him everything would be all right, that he hadn't pushed Sawyer, and would say so. But his stupid pride hadn't allowed him to lie, and he'd skirted the issue, and this had been the result.
"What the devil's going on here!" He looked up to see that Hammond had joined the small circle around Archie. "What's this man doing here!"
Horatio opened his mouth to answer, but Clive had already arisen and was answering. " I believe Mr. Kennedy wished to testify, sir."
"Hm. Well, the man's dead. Get him out of here!" With that, Hammond turned away. The bastard. The bastard! Horatio started to rise, but he felt a firm hand on each of his arms, firm hands helping him rise but holding him back at the same time.
" Easy, Mr. Hornblower, " Hobbs said.
"It won't do no good, sir, " Matthews said.
"Order! Order!" Thomas was smashing the gavel down again and again, and already members of the guard were lifting Archie's body, and heading out the door.
It might have been someone else being led up the aisle to the chair occupied by Horatio Hornblower during this court-martial. It might have been anyone. Horatio felt numb. Sawyer had won. Dimly he was aware of sitting down, and then standing again, as his name was called.
The three members of the Board sat eyeing him. Hammond. Thomas. Collins. But not Pellew. Captain Pellew was dying. Horatio's hands felt sticky. He looked down and realized they were sticky with Archie's blood. Pellew dying and Archie dead.
"Mr. Hornblower!" Captain Sir William Thomas' voice rang forth. "Did you or did you not push Captain Sawyer down the hold!"
Collins accepted the brandy readily. To the last moment, he'd wished that young Hornblower would have a logical explanation for Sawyer's fall down the hold. Some logical explanation for Sawyer being in the hold in the first place, some explanation that would neatly sidestep Buckland's accusation. Some explanation that would miraculously make the whole charge of mutiny disappear. Some explanation that would allow himself to face Pellew, if Pellew were indeed to survive his illness, with news of a happy outcome. Some explanation that would ameliorate his own conscience. What might Buckland have said, had not the courtroom erupted in laughter. Collins very clearly recognized the grim reprisal of a man made a laughing stock.
Hornblower had no explanation. His answer had been short, unequivocal. Yes, he, and he alone, had pushed Captain Sawyer down the hold. After that, there was no point in pursuing other options. Though what those options might have been, Collins had no idea.
"Well, gentlemen, it seems we shall have no trouble reaching our verdict. The man has condemned himself." Hammond said. "Now you see where ambition can lead !"
"Damned mutineer! Damned murderer! " Sir Thomas muttered. He had already downed one goblet of brandy and now poured himself another.
"You think he was telling the truth?" Collins asked.
"The man was under oath," Williams answered. "Now, had he answered differently, then I might question his veracity indeed."
"Do you think Sir Thomas, that a man who would not lie under oath, even to save his own skin, would deliberately put his captain in harm's way?"
"That is exactly how the situation appears, Collins." Hammond said.
"And this fellow Kennedy, " Collins continued . "The man was at death's door already. He wanted to testify, Dr. Clive said ..."
"If that were true, then I expect he would have lied to protect Hornblower." Sir Thomas drained the second tot of brandy.
"But a deathbed confession, as it were..."
"You think the dying all speak the truth, Collins? No, the verdict is clear. Hammond here agrees with me, and you yourself cannot argue the fact, in view of the man's own words."
Sir Thomas was correct. He could not argue. He had tried anyway, knowing his effort would be futile. The trying had been for his own benefit; he had never expected it to aid Hornblower.
"No point in prolonging this whole affair." Hammond said. "Another brandy, Collins? Sir Thomas? Then let's get on with it. The gallows await."
The gallows! "What do you mean, the gallows!" Collins had not even considered the means of execution, until right now. Of course, he'd passed the workmen the last few days, busily erecting the platform, but the point had been lost on him.
"Well, the man's been found guilty of -- not just mutiny, but murder, not to put too fine a point on it." Hammond said patiently, as though he were explaining sums to a school boy." He is to be hung. And if I had my way, he'd be taken to Renown, where his evil deed was perpetrated and hung from the yardarm. By Jove, you're right, Collins. We should not be thinking of the gallows."
Hell, he was making the whole situation worse. *Careful, Henry*. "I agree, Hammond. Take him to Renown. But for God's sake, the man's an officer. You cannot hang him like a common sailor!"
"He's no better than a dog, " Williams said, taking a moment to adjust the lace at his cuff. "As such, he deserves to be treated like a dog."
"But Pellew...."
"What's Pellew got to do with this."
"You know Hornblower was a favorite of Pellew's...."
"And you think that excuses his behavior?"
"Of course not, Sir William. If Pellew were sitting on this board instead of yourself, sir, he could do no different than find the man guilty also. But I believe he would agree with me, when it comes to the question of the manner of execution. You know he has much influence, and I believe he would be most displeased to hear that the man was hanged."
"Hmf! Pellew's dying, too, I understand."
"On the contrary. I hear he is much improved." Hornblower might have been under oath, but he, Collins, was under no such burden. And Pellew might indeed recover.
"Well, I suppose we can be charitable in that respect." Hammond said. "After all, the matter has ended satisfactorily. The Renown is still in English hands, the fort at Samana Bay is destroyed, we are in possession of three Spanish prizes, and we have a clear verdict in this court-martial. Let Hornblower be taken to Renown on the morrow, and be dispatched of there by firing squad. Let those men see what happens to mutineers and murderers. "
Williams arose. "I still register my protest over this matter, gentlemen. However, I am prepared to be charitable also. We have come off rather well in this whole business. Oh, Collins -- since this method of execution was your idea, I believe it only fair that you be responsible for its satisfactory conclusion."
With that, Williams swept from the room, followed by Hammond. "Forgive me, Sir Edward, " Collins muttered, and brought up at the end of the small procession towards the court room.
Bush walked gingerly back and forth within the confines of the gaol sickberth. The deep slice across his midsection still burned but the stitches were holding, and he at least could stay on his feet for minutes at a time. But was he practicing only to take that final walk to the gibbet? He glanced over at the empty bed. Archie had been gone for hours.
If walking were this painful for him, how in heaven's name had Mr. Kennedy managed to don his uniform, stand upright, and take those halting footsteps? Even with Dr. Clive's supporting arm, Archie's feat seemed nothing short of miraculous. Bush had found Kennedy to be a capable officer, but he had never guessed at the depths of fortitude the man possessed until he'd watched that herculean effort. Bush had no illusions about Archie's sacrifice. He did not risk his life and immortal soul for Buckland or William Bush; he did so for his friend Horatio Hornblower. Bush could only wish that someday someone would hold him in such high regard.
But would his taking the blame for Sawyer's fall down the hold be enough to save them all? Would the court go further and inquire what the officers were doing belowdecks in the first place? Mutiny. They'd talked of it, but had taken no action. Until that fall.....
Sometime during the morning, a light meal of bread and cheese was brought to him, along with more lemonade. Hornblower had credited the provision of lemonade to the good graces of Captain Wickham, but somehow Bush believed that Wickham had been prodded to do so by Horatio. He'd enjoyed it, however its manner of coming to him.
Where the devil was Archie? What was happening? This waiting was unbearable. He walked the length of the room several more times, and then lay down on his cot again. Perhaps he could sleep for a few minutes....
"Mr. Bush!"
He opened his eyes to find Dr. Clive bending over him.
"Dr. Clive!"
"I'm here to accompany you back to Renown. "
"Back to Renown?" His mind was still groggy with sleep. Back to Renown. What did that mean? He shook his head to clear it, and sat up. Kennedy's cot was still empty. Perhaps he had already been returned to the ship. But.....
Clive had obviously followed his gaze. "Mr. Kennedy has died."
"Oh." He was not surprised. "Was he able..."
"To testify? No."
Damn the man and his close-mouthed ways! Did he have to pry everything from him? "Is -- is the court-martial then over?"
"And Mr. Hornblower?"
"Has been found guilty. He is to be executed tomorrow."
Kennedy dead. Hornblower sentenced to a like fate. He was almost afraid to pose the next logical question. "But Buckland. Myself..."
"Oh, you needn't worry, Mr. Bush. There will be no further charges. That is why you are being taken back to Renown. You're still Second Luff there, I believe. As Buckland is still First."
Clive thought he was only interested in his own skin! Well, perhaps he had been, waiting here, not knowing. But now -- how could this be? They'd all been down there, in the hold. " But Mr. Clive, Buckland, myself, we...."
"Mr. Bush!" For the first time, Clive spoke with authority. "I believe it politic for you to keep your thoughts to yourself. Do not let Mr. Hornblower go to his death, knowing you have foolishly thrown away your life too."
"Damn your eyes, Clive! You knew what Sawyer was like! Whatever might have been the cause of his fall down that hatchway makes no difference! The man was mad already! But you were too cowardly to state so to the court! " If he'd had any strength, Bush would have struck the man.
Clive at least had the good grace to color a little at his accusation." That may have been so, Mr. Bush, but the court was not prepared to listen. Sawyer's good name has been saved. A scapegoat has been found. You and Buckland are free. Mr.Kennedy would have died of his wounds regardless. A pity that Hornblower has to pay the price. But that is the way of things."
The Renown's surgeon helped Bush on with his jacket, and strode ahead of him out of the cell. Bush had no option but to follow, but his mind was still unable to get around the enormity of Clive's news. Kennedy dead? Hornblower guilty, and as good as dead?
"Dr. Clive, if you please..."
Clive stopped his breakneck rush down the dank corridor and waited for Bush to catch up. "Excuse me, Mr. Bush. I had forgotten to make allowance for your injury." The man was shaking. Was his haste engendered by a need for drink, or a greater need to have Bush out of the way, safe back on Renown.
"I have not testified, sir...."
"There was no reason, Mr. Bush. The Admiralty has found the man responsible for Captain Sawyer's condition...."
"Good God, man, how can you say that! You were there! Sawyer was mad...."
"Enough, Mr. Bush!" Clive's voice reverberated through the stone corridor. "The court is disbanded, and will entertain no more testimony! Now come along!"
For a few more twists and turns of the hallway, Bush followed Clive's ringing footsteps. The flickering lantern light soon gave way to the brighter glow of daylight, and for the first time since Renown had discharged him onto land and into the Kingston gaol sickberth, Bush could glimpse the outside world and freedom.
Hornblower. Where was Hornblower? Still locked away, or taken on board Renown?
"Dr. Clive!"
"Mr. Bush, you are trying my patience!" His patience, or more likely his need for a brandy.
"Where is Mr. Hornblower?"
"Mr. Hornblower's whereabouts are not my concern..."
"Is there a problem, Dr. Clive?" A man had appeared in the doorway of a small room to the right of the exit out of the jail. A man in a military uniform. An officer's uniform.
"Captain Wickham?" Bush asked.
The man inclined his head affirmatively, and glanced over to Dr. Clive. "Do you need aid, Dr. Clive?"
Clive shrugged reaching into his jacket, pulled out his ever-present flask. The red-coated officer turned his attention back to Bush.
"Are you Captain Wickham?" Bush asked again.
"Yes, I am, sir."
"Lieutenant Hornblower. Is he still incarcerated here?"
A shadow seemed to pass over the man's face. "Until the morrow."
"May I -- may I see him, sir?"
"You know that he is under sentence of death...."
"I know that, sir. I served with him on Renown. I would like to take my leave of him, if I may."
"Ah. You must be Mr. Bush. On the mend, I see."
"Yes, sir. I must thank you for your kindness in providing myself and Mr. Kennedy with fresh lemonade."
"Ah, yes, Mr. Kennedy." The officer turned back the way Bush and Clive had come and shouted "Lewis! McKay!" Two guards clattered down the hall way and stood to attention . "You must thank Mr. Hornblower for the lemonade, Mr. Bush. It was his request."
Bush had thought as much. A simple gesture, and he wondered whether he would have thought of it, were he called upon to sit in that courtroom, his life in the balance, and Mr. Hornblower lying injured in his place. Probably not.
"Please escort this man to Mr. Hornblower's cell. " Wickham was speaking to the two guards. "Allow him to stay as long as he pleases, and then return him."
"I do protest, sir!" Clive blustered.
But Bush waited no longer on Clive's word. He turned back into the gloom of the prison, and the two guards fell into position, one leading and one following. Only when they had turned a corner away from the daylight, did he realized what he was doing. What could he say to the man? Hornblower had born the brunt of this whole ordeal and now he would pay the ultimate price. He needed a man of the church perhaps, but certainly not his Second Lieutenant, a man who had held Sawyer in such high regard, a man who had come to see the rightness of their course of action only at the last minute, and to be honest, a man who had agreed to Hornblower's mad scheme to attack the fort, only after considering such action as possibly saving all their necks when they arrived in Kingston.
Well, he'd been wrong there. Resounding success in carrying out Sawyer's orders had made no difference in the end. No, he couldn't do this. Couldn't face the man who had taken on the guilt of them all, and would die so he and that bastard Buckland would live. For a moment his feet dragged, but in the end he did not stop and retrace his steps. He had no idea how he would indeed face Hornblower, but he knew that if he did not, he would never face himself.
The guard stopped, and one of the men inserted a key into the lock, and turning it, swung the iron-barred door open. Bush stepped inside, and the door crashed shut behind him. Horatio had been standing in front of the window, looking out. He turned around and seemed surprised to see the man standing there just inside the doorway.
"Mr. Bush! You are recovering, I see..."
God, this was hard. "I -- please accept my sympathy -- Mr. Kennedy -- " He hadn't meant to talk about Kennedy. But to talk about Kennedy was easier than to talk about -- other matters.
Hornblower's jaw firmed, and his back straightened. "Thank you, Mr. Bush."
"He -- so wanted to -- "
"Testify. It was not his place to do so, Mr. Bush. The blame was not his. I fear that in making his attempt, his life was shortened. That was not what I wanted."
Damn! "Mr. Hornblower, you must believe -- it was what he wanted, more than anything! And we were all to blame..."
"Please, have a care, Mr. Bush! " Horatio's eyes drifted over to the doorway and Bush's did likewise. The guards were no longer in view, but Bush had no doubt that they were well within earshot. Even now, he supposed, there might be danger in loose words. Even now, Hornblower had thought for someone else.
"And did you push Captain Sawyer?" Bush asked, lowering his voice, and walking closer.
"That was my testimony."
"And was your testimony the truth?"
"Mr. Bush, will you not let this rest?"
"But I must know...." He stopped, and suddenly realized what he needed from Hornblower. He needed absolution. If Hornblower died because he had laid hands on Captain Sawyer and literally shoved him over the edge of the hatchway into the hold, and only because of that, why then, both he and Buckland were truly innocent. By God, neither of them was there. Kennedy had been, and Wellard, but the Articles of War could no longer touch them. But he and Buckland ......
Then he remembered Kennedy's words. Sawyer had walked backwards because Archie had advanced. Had Archie not been there -- had that meeting not taken place -- there would have been no cries of mutiny, no frantic search in the deepest darkest spaces in Renown and Captain Sawyer would have drowsed away the night in his cot. Officially, he bore no guilt in Sawyer's fall, but neither did he deserve the absolution he craved.
"I repeat, Mr. Hornblower, we *were* all to blame ....."
"But it was my hand on Sawyer, Mr. Bush, not yours. And that was the question I was required to answer. "
"Surely the Captain was falling, was beyond saving...."
Horatio closed his eyes briefly and then reopened them. "Do you seek to turn me into a martyr, Mr. Bush? Believe me, I am not that. "
"But...." What the devil was he doing? The man was sentenced to die on the morrow, and all Bush seemed able to do was browbeat him. Into confessing -- what?
For a moment the two men stood silent. How could Hornblower appear so calm? Or was his situation any different than waiting for that first broadside from the enemy. Of course, the outcome in this case was sure.
"Mr. Hornblower..."
"Yes, Mr. Bush?"
"I -- would like to thank you for -- for saving my life, several times over. " He felt again the rush of water closing over his head as the Renown's anchor plummeted to the bottom of Samana Bay, taking him with it. And he felt again the bullets chipping the stone wall of the fort, as he and his men waited to be slaughtered by the Spanish. He still suffered the pain of that cutlass slash across his skin, a slash that might have finished him, had he been left to the tender mercies of Ortega and his men. And while the walls of Kingston gaol still enclosed him, in a short while, he would be allowed to walk free, and Hornblower would not.
"God in heaven, man, it's not right! Who gives a damn what happened down in that bloody hold! Sawyer was mad! Mad! He needed to be stopped! Was that not brought out in court? Would they have preferred Renown blasted to pieces in Samana Bay, and all her men dead? "
"Mr. Bush, please...." Bush felt Hornblower's hand on his arm, and realized he'd been shouting.
"Excuse me, Mr. Hornblower. I -- I'm sorry..."
"The Admiralty needed a resolution, Mr. Bush. "
"And so you are their whipping boy, just as Wellard was Captain Sawyer's. " Bush's midsection was beginning to throb. He'd forgotten that only the previous day even to stand was almost unbearable. But the pain focused his mind, and he sighed. He'd come to offer what comfort he could -- the least he could do was control his anger.
"I suppose you are right, Mr. Hornblower. But -- I believe the men of the Renown know the truth of the matter, what ever might have been said in that court room. You will not be alone tomorrow."
For the first time, Horatio seemed to tremble a little. "Thank you, Mr. Bush, " he answered quietly. "It's been an honor to serve with you, sir." He held out his hand and Bush clasped it. So had Buckland, as he sent his Third Lieutenant to his probable death. So had Clive. Was his handshake any less a Judas kiss?
"And I with you, Mr. Hornblower."
"Guard!" Horatio called.
The sound of the footsteps in the hallway dwindled and then died away, and Horatio was left alone. It was good of Mr. Bush to visit; he had expected no one. And another man might have asked the same questions Bush did, and been resented for doing so, but Horatio could see the shock and disbelief in the other man's face, and knew the questions arose from concern and not any prurient interest.
Somehow, now that the court was adjourned, he felt more at rest. Now there need be no more fevered thoughts. The penalty for a moment's rash deed was steep; but the penalty for many rash deeds in His Majesty's Navy was steep. Sawyer had been right in that -- the Articles of War did indeed apply to his officers as well as his men. He alone knew the tenor of his thoughts as Sawyer's body teetered on the edge. And he alone knew how justified the punishment was.
Damn! Why hadn't he told Bush the truth. The truth! *In that instant, I hoped that Sawyer would die, and the decision not hang over our heads. In that instant, I laid my hand on him, and perhaps made a difference*. He'd admonished Bush not to think of him as a martyr. Then why had he not admitted to being guilty as charged?
Footsteps sounded again in the hallway. Just the guard changing, he supposed. The time seemed about right.
*I don't want them to think badly of me. As I think badly of myself* The thought rose in his mind, and he knew it to be true. He'd been proud of his service in the Navy. Somehow, from that inauspicious beginning back there on Justinian, he'd managed to find his way. He'd not always made the correct decisions, but events had usually come right in the end. He'd earned the trust of the men, and the respect of his superior officers. He'd been proud to serve. Proud. Perhaps pride had somehow turned to arrogance. Perhaps he'd come to think that his past successes had meant that success was his due. What was that old adage -- Buckland would know it, certain sure -- ah, yes, pride goeth before a fall..... A fall.
The light was fast disappearing. Once more he walked to the window and looked out. How many times had he done so in the past few days? Stared out at the stone walls of the fort, and beyond that to the anchorage. Closed his eyes and imagined himself once more on deck. Tomorrow -- he'd be on deck again -- for the last time...
For the first time since the gavel had banged down in the court room and he had read the news of his death in the eyes of the Captains set in judgment over him, tears pricked his eyes. Damn! I will not feel sorry for myself. So many dead, over the years, so many.... And now his dear friend Archie gone too.
His hands had been washed clean of the blood, but he could still imagine it staining his skin. He had only to close his eyes to see Archie bleeding to death there on the floor of the courtroom. He had come prepared to face the court, to answer the question. He had not come prepared for that. At least he had arrived in time to spend those few precious seconds with his friend, before death dimmed Archie's eyes forever. He could hardly remember answering their damned question after that. He could remember not caring though -- he could remember that clearly enough. At least, the court-martial had ended after that one damning question. No one had seen fit to ask why they'd been down in the hold in the first place, nor had mention been made of the cries of mutiny which had reverberated through the ship and brought Sawyer there. At least Mr. Bush was spared, and Mr. Buckland. Only Archie's blood had spilled.
And tomorrow it would be his . On how many occasions had he weighed the odds, and taken the chance. Simpson. An even chance. That drunken sailor on board Caroline, where chance had been taken out of his hands altogether, but the luck had stayed with him. Don Masserado, furious that those British scum would attempt escape, and kill his men. He'd not even thought of his chances then.
Sawyer. Twice Sawyer had trained his pistol on his Third Lieutenant. Twice his Third Lieutenant had escaped. But tomorrow there would be no escape. One man might miss, but a firing squad would not. In the heat of battle, the chance always stood -- a cannon ball might cut down the man not a hairsbreadth away from you, or a splinter disembowel him, or a sharpshooter's bullet send him to the deck, yet leave you in the best of health. Tomorrow, the odds would finally turn -- irrevocably.
Thank God the gallows here in Kingston would go unused. Thank God the yardarm would sport no swinging body. He was afraid to die, as any man would be afraid, but death was ever a shipmate of a naval officer. He was more afraid to die badly. He had seen hangings -- sometimes the poor bastard jerked at the end of the rope for tens of minutes. He'd known what the verdict of the court would be, as soon as he'd answered that damned question. That the sentence was to be death by firing squad had come as a blessed relief.
At least he left no wife and child to mourn him. Somehow, despite the precariousness of an officer's life in the navy, he'd always felt the time would come for such things. A lieutenant's pay was piteously inadequate to keep a family; especially when that lieutenant had no extra funds to call on. His relations with women over the years had been mostly unsatisfactory, in one way or another. A young French peasant girl , dead now too, because of him. A few -- a very few -- nameless whores. An actress as lady-like as any Duchess. He supposed Kitty might mourn his passing briefly.
And his mother. Dead these many years but always she had been with him, living on in his heart. Even now the miniature of her likeness nestled in his pocket. He'd never repaired the chain after Simpson had snapped it, never worn the locket again. Never would he have her memory held up to such derision as had fallen from Simpson's lips. But always he knew she was close. Slipping his fingers into the pocket, he brought her serene face up into the light of the window. And for the first time he was relieved that she was gone, and would never know the manner of her son's death.
No, best he had no family. Except....
Captain Pellew, almost a father to him. He did not deserve Sir Edward's regrets, if his former captain would indeed felt regret at his death, or even survived himself to have any thoughts at all in the matter. At least he would not have to face that stern visage, that air of disappointment, a look of disgust, even. He'd tried to explain Sawyer's state of mind before that fateful meeting in the hold, but he knew that Pellew was upset and angry with he left him.
And Dr. Hornblower. He remembered how frail his father had appeared on the last hurried visit he'd made to Waltham Chase. They had wasted too many years -- circling each other warily -- neither one letting the other into his heart. Luckily, they'd come to their senses, and had realized that they did indeed love and respect one another.
And now his father would receive the news of his son's death -- not in the service of his country, but in its disservice.
"Guard!" A red-coated marine appeared instantly in the doorway, regarding him warily, as though his sentence of death were somehow like the plague -- catching.
"I would like some writing materials. " he said.
"I dunno...." Now that the prisoner was as good as dead, the guard obviously felt he need not answer to him.
"Captain Wickham will authorize it, I am sure. "
The guard scratched his head, shrugged, and slouched off down the corridor. Captain Wickham was most probably sitting down to a good meal at a local tavern. The guard would see that the small office was empty, and return without quill, ink and paper.
That at least was Horatio's expectation. He had made the attempt, and chastised himself for not having the thought earlier. What he did not expect in the least was Captain Wickham himself, a few moments later, the requested items in his own hand.
"Mr. Hornblower, " Wickham said, laying the writing materials on the small rough table that constituted fully one-third of the sparse furnishings of his cell.
"Thank you, sir. I did not expect....."
"That I would come in person? My duties have kept me busy, and I apologize for not inquiring whether you might be in need of anything. " Wickham looked behind him at the barred doorway. "Other than a key and a cutlass, of course."
"Of course, sir."
"You think I jest, Mr. Hornblower? " Wickham glanced round the small space, as though he had never had occasion to view one of his cells from this vantage point before. " Shortly after I took command of this garrison, Captain Hamilton put in to port with his own ship Surprise, and the Hermione, recently captured from the Spanish. You no doubt have heard of the Hermione?"
"Of course, sir." The Hermione. Black bloody mutiny indeed.
"Her crew at that time was entirely Spanish, but in the two years since then we have had occasion to entertain a few of her original mutinous crew and they in turn have entertained us by dancing on the end of a rope, not entirely willing, I might add."
Horatio made no comment. Civil of Wickham to supply pen and ink, but the price was dear, if he were expected to attend to a lecture on mutiny.
"Were I to find an audience, " Wickham continued, " I could argue that had there been an enterprising young lieutenant on board Hermione, obliging enough to assist Captain Pigott in tumbling down an open hatchway, then the remaining officers might still be alive, as well as those poor bastards swinging for our enlightenment. "
Captain Wickham reached inside his red jacket and pulled out a small flask. "Mr. Hornblower?"
Strong drink had never been his friend, either in despair or celebration, but he most gratefully accepted Wickham's offering, letting the rough brandy burn down his throat.
"Keep it, Mr. Hornblower, " Wickham said, but Horatio returned it nonetheless. He doubted his courage to face what waited him a few short hours hence, but he trusted himself more than any fortitude drink could give him.
"I listen to my men, Mr. Hornblower -- any officer who does not do so is a fool. And I've been listening to what they've been saying about this court-martial, and what they've heard from the mouths of the men of Renown. Add that to my own knowledge of yourself, and I can only say the Admiralty and those Captains pronouncing judgment on you are a pack of bloody fools! "
"Yes, yes!" Wickham waved him aside with one scarlet-encased arm. "Their duty, you are bound to say. They are only doing their duty. Perhaps Pigott thought it *his* duty to make the lives of his men a living hell. I can tell you this for certain -- the Admiralty may see the specter of Hermione behind every breach of discipline but I for one can find no comparison between a ship shorn of her officers and given to the enemy, and one returning to port with prize ships in her wake, and her mission completed!"
Captain Wickham thumped his fist on the table. Both Horatio and the writing implements lying there jumped.
"A cutlass and a key," Wickham said. "Would that it were in my power to hand these over to you, along with safe passage from this accursed place. Though I suspect you would not accept them."
"No, sir."
"Then please, sir, accept my respect." Wickham held out his hand, and Horatio clasped it. The Marine captain stood silent and still for a few moments, than turned and motioned for the guard to release him.
After he had gone, Horatio moved to the small table, sat down on the rough-hewn stool that served as a chair, and picking up the quill, dipped it into the ink.
Matthews had never been much of a drinking man -- oh, he enjoyed his tots of rum, but he'd never saved them up to revel in mind-numbing drunkenness, nor coaxed some of his messmates to give over their tots to him. Over the years, as he'd earned the trust of his superiors, he'd been granted shoreleave more often than not, and enjoyed it too, but had never been hauled back to his ship insensible. And he'd been flogged a time or two, though not since joining Indefatigable all those many years ago. Flogged, but never for drunkenness.
No, Matthews had never been much of a drinking man. Until today. They'd sat in the Flying Fish, him and Styles, as they'd sat there a day or two earlier, their tankards of rum in front of them, but the hope all run out.
For once, even Styles seemed at a loss for words. Several times he'd started to say something, had managed to get out the words "But Matty..." and then fallen silent.
Matthews found little to say in return. What could he say? The courtroom was so fresh in his mind, it was like being there all over again. Mr. Kennedy coming in -- there'd been gasps when he appeared -- for all anybody'd heard, he was a dead man, yet there he was, dressed in his uniform, walking up between the chairs, that bloody Dr. Clive behind him, with one hand under Kennedy's arm. Matthews knew, soon as he saw him, what was up. Kennedy and Hornblower had been friends and fellow officers since Justinian. Course Mr. Kennedy'd never be the man Mr. Hornblower was, but then, there were not many in the whole sodding Navy who were. Mr. Kennedy'd had his troubles, right enough, what with his fits -- though they didn't seem to trouble him now -- and his bouts of panic, but he'd turned into a fine gunnery officer -- not that Sawyer'd had any use for that -- and still had time for a light remark now and then.
He'd looked as white as a ghost, he had, as he walked. Matthews had no doubt of his bravery -- not since that day when he'd dashed back across that bridge in Muzillac and rescued his chum. But this took something special -- if he'd walked the whole distance from the gaol -- with that wound he'd received -- something special indeed. He was going to save his friend again. You could see that; you could see that determination in his face, if it took the last breath from his body.
A huge groan had come out of everybody -- a groan like the one what came out of a timbers of a ship as she was going down -- as Mr. Kennedy had stopped, took one more step and then tumbled to the floor. Another few minutes and he'd have made it. But the good Lord hadn't seen fit to give him those few minutes. The hubbub hadn't nearly died down when Mr. Hornblower appeared. It was like he knew what he'd find. Matthews would never, in the whole rest of his life, forget the look on the young Lieutenant's face, when he went down on one knee at Mr. Kennedy's side.
He hadn't lost him back then, in Samana Bay, but here in this courtroom in Kingston, as Mr. Hornblower stood, and went his way to the front of the court, Matthews knew that he had lost him now. The lad looked dazed, and when that bugger Williams asked the question, Mr. Hornblower'd answered like he'd no interest anymore -- "Yes. I pushed Captain Sawyer down the hold. " almost like he didn't care anymore.
The Flying Fish had nary a seat empty. Damned sharks, the lot of them -- they'd smelled blood and looked to make a celebration of it. The dusky barmaids were hard put to keep up with the business, and now and again, one of them gave a little shriek, as a patron become over friendly.
" 'e never did it!" Styles blurted out, thumping his tankard on the table top.
" 'e were under oath, Styles. Why would 'e lie?" Why indeed? So quick Mr. Hornblower always was, to keep others from saying any words which might be reek of mutiny. 'Have a care, Matthews, " he'd said, though Matty knew Mr. Hornblower had taken note of his words nonetheless. Well, what if he had pushed the Captain? Why, he might have done the deed himself. given the chance. That poor lad Wellard. He'd had a bit of a rest from the rattan after that last time, but Matty'd had no doubt the young midshipman would be married to the gunner's daughter again. A man who'd have a boy beaten for no reason at all -- a boy who couldn't fight back -- was no man at all.
"But...." Styles stopped and looked across the crowded common room towards the door. Matthew's fingers clenched around his tankard. Mr. Hobbs had entered the Flying Fish -- the gunner stopped, looked around and then headed for the bosun and his mate.
" Bloody 'ell!" Matthews muttered. Already he could feel Styles tense beside him. Hobbs never pointed a finger at Mr. Hornblower in the courtroom, but he'd be sure to lord it over them now. And Styles had just enough of the drink in him to answer back with his fists.
"Mr. Matthews. Mr. Styles. " Hobbs' voice sounded flat. "I -- I'm sorry events have turned out the way they have...."
"Now that's not bloody likely!" Styles growled.
"Easy, Styles, easy!" Matthew's said. "Let the man speak!"
Mr. Hobbs turned his hat round endlessly in his hands. "I -- you must know, Mr. Hornblower was not alone down there. I always thought Mr. Wellard had a hand in -- Captain Sawyer's accident."
"Do ye blame the lad?" Matthews said.
"I -- well, no matter. We none of us knows what happened down there. That's all I got to say. " Suddenly he stuck his hand out ; the movement was so unexpected that for a moment all Matthews could think to do was stare at it. Then slowly he raised his own hand, and Hobbs enveloped it in a firm grip. Astonishingly, he then reached towards Styles.
Styles' mouth gaped open, and Matthews would have laughed, had he had any laughter in him this dark day. A sharp jab to the ribs and his mate shook hands with the gunner also.
"Now you DO know what it's like to lose your hero, just as I lost mine. " Hobbs said. He started to turn away, but stopped in the midst of his movement and added " I saw Captain Sawyer hold a razor to Mr. Hornblower's neck. He had him at his mercy, but Mr. Hornblower never flinched, but treated my Captain with the greatest respect. I -- well, that's what happened." With that, he was gone, not even stopping to have a bit of a drink.
"So what was that all about?" Styles said.
"I think 'e was tryin' t'say....." What? Matthews wasn't sure. "We don't know what 'appened down there, do we? Mr. 'ornblower was thinkin' of the ship and the men, whatever 'e did, and 'e's payin' the price for it now." Hobbs was right, they were going to lose their hero. Suddenly the buzzing voices in the Flying Fish hurt his ears and the rum in his tankard burned his throat.
"Come on, Styles, " he said, pushing back his chair. "I can't stomach this place."
The air was still hot as they stepped out into the dusty Kingston street. Oldroyd had always wanted to sail to the Indies, but their old shipmate was lucky not to have made this trip, that was for sure. Tropical diseases, Styles had warned him. 'Twas one of those damned tropical diseases that had done for Captain Pellew; and done for Mr. Hornblower too. If Pellew's been President of the court, he would have known the questions to ask, and the questions not to ask, and even that bugger Buckland would have been put down.
Matthews raised his eyes to the forbidding bulk of the Kingston garrison. Somewhere behind its stony face, Mr. Hornblower was spending his last night on this earth. Was he looking out this very minute, perhaps watching as two of his men shuffled down the street in freedom? They'd all faced death together many times over the years since Mr. Hornblower had boarded Justinian, a sea-sick young lad with more gumption than any of them suspected. But tomorrow he'd be facing death alone.
If only he could speak to him once again, knuckle his forehead and tell him how much the men respected him, no matter what the Court-Martial had to say. Well, he was a bosun now, but even a bosun couldn't storm that that gaol.
"God be with ye, sir," he whispered and made his way down to the jetty.
"You are not exerting yourself unnecessarily, Mr. Bush?" Dr Clive asked. They had almost reached the jetty, and Bush could see one of the Renown's boats tied up there.
"I'll manage, " he growled, but as if reminded that he was indeed injured, and just a few days previous had thought himself at death's door and in no better condition than Mr. Kennedy, he crossed his arm protectively across his stomach. The slash throbbed more insistently and he counted himself fortunate that he need travel only a few more steps.
An officer already sat in the sternsheets and Bush realized that the officer was Lieutenant Buckland. Freed too, after Hornblower's damning testimony. "You three -- you are so full of yourselves." Buckland had said to him, after their triumphant -- and perhaps unexpected -- return from the cliffs of Samana Point. He'd sounded envious -- but there he sat, alive and waiting to be returned to a ship where he was still First Lieutenant, if no longer acting Captain, while one of the three was already dead, a second as good as dead, and the third....... Bush gulped. Yes, he WAS alive -- saved by Mr. Hornblower once again.
Mr. Bush was well aware of the effects of shoreleave on the British seaman, but he was seeing none of that here -- no boisterous high spirits, no men reeling or perhaps passed out from the effect of the drink. A heavy fog seemed to lay over everyone.
Two more crew approached, and Bush recognized them instantly. Matthews the bosun -- a steady chap -- he'd never relished administering punishment, not like some Bush had known over the years he'd served in His Majesty's navy. Matthews and Mr. Hornblower had been friends, or as near to friends as men separated in rank could be. Surely he would be taking Hornblower's fate badly; the man had never been among the crew that heartily enjoyed Sawyer's liberal gifts of tots of rum and half-duty Sundays. Lagging behind Matthews was a larger man -- that Styles, Matthews' mate. A hot-headed chap and one he, Bush, had somehow rubbed the wrong way.
Suddenly Styles darted forward, and Bush caught his words. "There's the bloody bastard, " Styles growled, a hand raised, and Bush had only to look in the direction the bosun's mate pointed to see Buckland cowering in the sternsheets.
Styles took only a few steps in the direction of the jolly boat before Matthews stepped in front of him and forcibly held him back, his two hands gripping Styles' shoulders. The black look on his face left no doubt in Mr. Bush's mind that the man was on the verge of exploding; his rage seemed entirely aimed in the direction of the Renown's First Lieutenant.
Gingerly Bush hurried his steps, and reached the two men.
"What's going on here? " he asked. "Matthews?"
Matthews gave his mate a hard look, dropped his hands from the other man's shoulders and knuckled his forehead. "Nuthin', sir" he answered.
"Nothing? You, Styles...." Styles glared at him, and then looked away.
"Yes, you, Styles. Look at me, man!" Bush noticed the furtive little cuff Matthews gave his mate, and knew it was that, and not his own words, which finally made Styles turn his sullen face towards him.
"You were referring to Mr. Buckland, Styles? He is your superior officer and is due your respect."
Something was going on here. Both men looked first at each other, then at Bush, and then Matthews slid furtive eyes towards that hunched figure in the sternsheets. If Mr. Hornblower were here, he'd get them to talk. Damn, but they'd be spilling their guts right now!
Bush took a deep breath and then winced as his wound reminded him that deep breaths were still not a good idea.
"Sir! Yer still 'urt..."
"I shall be quite fine, Matthews. " He paused for a moment to let the pain subside, and then continued. "You have my permission to speak freely. I must know what is going on here."
Once again the two men exchanged looks. Finally Matthews took a step forward. "Well, sir, it were the court-martial. Mr. Buckland -- well, sir, 'e said Mr. 'ornblower 'ad pushed the captain down into the 'old. So then they 'ad to ask 'im, didn't they? And we know what 'appened then, don't we?" For a second Matthews' old eyes looked suspiciously bright. God, but Hornblower had gained some fierce loyalties among these men.
"So you are saying...." Bush was trying to get his mind round the enormity of the news Matthews had just given him.
" 'e saved yer neck, though, didn't 'e? 'imself and you both!"
Bush could see Matthews turning to admonish his mate once again, but held up a hand to stay his words. "No matter, Matthews. I've given you both permission to speak freely." He glanced over at Buckland, there in the sternsheets. The man looked up, startled, and then turned his face away. The crew had already taken their places in the jolly boat, and a few stragglers had followed them. Dr. Clive had disappeared; obviously the Renown's surgeon was not returning to his ship. The fine rum of Jamaica called more insistently than his duty as the Renown's surgeon. But Bush would in a matter of moments be stepping into that jolly boat, and sitting patiently as the men rowed them all out into the anchorage to the side of Renown. Once more, he would be a Lieutenant on board one of His Majesty's ship. If Buckland had made no accusation against Lieutenant Hornblower, would the three of them (for Mr. Kennedy would in all probability have died regardless) now be free to take up their duties? Or would all three of them await the dreadful fate Mr. Hornblower now faced alone?
Buckland may indeed have saved his neck. With guilt, Bush realized that a part of him thanked God (and Mr. Buckland) that his precious neck had been saved. But there had been four of them down there in that hold, and hard now to believe, it had been Mr. Buckland prepared to restrain the captain and take command, and Mr. Hornblower cautioning restraint. Mr. Hornblower's guilt or innocence in regards to Sawyer's fall now seemed unimportant. Except to the court, of course.
Bush thought back to those last words which he had shared with Horatio Hornblower. What HAD happened down there in the hold? Perhaps Hornblower was not entirely sure himself. Perhaps if Bush himself had been present, he might have -- in a moment's madness, or sanity -- taken an opportunity to ensure Captain Sawyer would no longer endanger the lives of all the men on board Renown.
"Steady there, sir." Suddenly Styles' hand was under his elbow, and Bush realized that his knees were on the verge of buckling under him. He'd been on his feet too long; the pain in his midriff had intensified, and his discomfort had apparently been quite obvious to the man now supporting him. Bush was reminded of that day back on Renown, when those same hands supported his head as he lay bleeding on the deck. For the first time in his life, he cared desperately that one of the men think well of him.
"Much obliged, Styles, " he said gruffly, and Styles quickly snatched his hand away. But before the big man could turn and walk away in disgust, as his grim face signaled he was preparing to do, Bush blurted out, " I derive no satisfaction in the manner of my acquittal." The words thrown out, he now realized how true they were. "But Styles, you would do well to heed the Articles of War in regards to Mr. Buckland. We are losing one good man to their dictates -- His Majesty's Service cannot afford to lose another."
Styles paused and knuckled his forehead. "Aye, aye, sir. " he said and Bush could discern no insincerity in the manner of his speaking. "Sir, are you able ...."
"Yes, Styles, but thank you for your concern."
He now turned and followed the two seaman, as they made their way wearily back to the Renown's jolly boat. He had reminded Styles of the rigors of the Articles of War; he himself would need all the restraint he was capable of to stay within their boundaries himself.
Once again Collins stood at the door of Hibbert House, lifted the ornate brass knocker, and let it drop. The Strap & Block's finest victuals lay heavy in his stomach, and he wished now he'd asked Captain Hammond's pardon and begged off the proffered dinner invitation.
The young girl who answered the door had no need to take his card; she had become quite used to Captain Collins' visits by now, and showed him into a small drawing room while she went to fetch her mistress.
Hammond. Even now Collins could not quite believe the tale the man had regaled him with during that wretched meal.
"You take exception to the verdict, " Hammond had said, as he poured himself a liberal bumper of the Strap & Block's excellent but potent rum punch.
Collins thought carefully before answering. Hammond had some influence, after all; now that he commanded Renown, he had no wish to further hinder his hopefully inexorable climb towards the exultant ranks of Commodores and Admirals, by arguing a verdict already given.
"There was no choice, Hammond, I admit to that. Though I suspect we did not hear the complete story."
"Regarding Sawyer's state of mind, I suppose."
"Among other matters -- yes."
"Had Sawyer exhibited serious symptoms previous to that incident in the hold, I am sure Dr. Clive would have taken the appropriate measures. No, the culprit has been named, and will pay the penalty. The mutton stew here is particularly fine, Collins --- you there!" and he snapped his fingers at a serving girl hurrying past. "Two portions of your mutton stew, and be quick about it!" The harried girl bobbed a perfunctory curtsey in his direction and scurried off.
Mutton stew. Collins suddenly realized that he had no appetite. Would Hornblower's last meal be a plate of fine mutton stew? Would anyone remember to serve him a last meal?
"But Hornblower..."
"Hornblower! I see the man has fooled you as well! Here, have some of this excellent punch, man! It might just settle your mind a little." Hammond filled a second cup and pushed it across the table. "No, Hornblower saw his chance to advance, and he took it. By God, if the Renown had been longer at sea, who knows what dire accident might have befallen Mr. Buckland, or Mr. Bush for that matter!"
"I cannot subscribe to your viewpoint, Hammond! Surely you must admit to his bravery and coolness under fire...."
"Bah! His version of events. "
"And you yourself were witness to that fireship incident..."
"Ah yes, the fireship. I suppose the man was prepared to take extreme measures at that point. I believe I mentioned that he was on the verge of failing his examination for Lieutenant, and failing it most miserably indeed! In my opinion, he was merely attempting to curry favor with Foster..."
"Dreadnaught Foster?" The serving girl set a bowl in front of him. Mutton stew -- hot and steamy. A dish he would welcome ten times over in the midst of a wet and miserable winter day on blockade duty in the Channel, but which here in Kingston only caused the sweat to drip off his brow even more quickly.
"Dreadnaught! What a trumped up title for an impossible little man!" Hammond spooned some of the stew into his mouth with relish. "He had the nerve to chastise me for not pulling him from the water in a timely manner. Can you believe that! Why, I had to demand satisfaction!"
Collins' head was beginning to swim -- from the cloying heat, the heavy taste of the mutton, and Hammond's importunate ramblings.
"A duel?"
"Exactly, Collins! And the man had the audacity to wing me! You can imagine that I was in no agreeable frame of mind when he and Pellew came to me with the ridiculous notion of awarding Hornblower his promotion regardless."
"But he WAS promoted..."
Hammond wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then waved his hand airily. "And who was I to counter the great Dreadnaught Foster and the famous Sir Edward Pellew! I might have expected Harvey, who also sat on the examination board to see my view, but the man's spineless, and gave in without a moment's thought!"
Collins stirred his spoon round and round in the stew.
"Well, I'll be happy to pass this information onto *Dreadnaught* Foster -- let him know I was right about the man all along!" With that, Hammond upended his cup and banged it down on the table in high good spirits.
Now, as Collins sat in the drawing room of Hibbert House, and pondered on Hammond's words, he understood. Hammond, God help him, had used Hornblower's predicament to avenge himself on the man who had bested him in a duel -- a duel seemingly as ridiculous as all duels were. Couple that with Sir Thomas' obsession with rooting out any hint of mutiny -- to avenge the death of that young Midshipman.....
"Captain Collins. " Sarah Hibbert bustled into the room. "I have news..."
Collins had jumped to his feet on her arrival. "News?"
"Sir Edward appears to be holding his own. I cannot promise a recovery, but his situation is less desperate, at least."
"Thank the Lord. And thank you, Mrs. Hibbert. " Holding his own. Even this morning Collins would have exulted in the news. Now ? If Pellew were to recover, he would do so only to receive the dread news of Hornblower's fate. At least I will not be here to face him, Collins thought, and immediately felt ashamed of his reaction.
Only as he closed the door of Hibbert House behind him, did he realize that the lie he had told to his fellow jurors earlier in the day was indeed the truth.
Day 6
How much longer must he endure this cramped hole in the ground? Archie needed him. His men needed him.
Horatio opened his eyes. It must be night; darkness surrounded him but at least the rain had stopped. He peered into the blackness; something seemed different, but he was not sure what. He could hear a furtive rustling close to him -- God, some live creature must be down here with him, and what form it might take he couldn't bear to think on. Gingerly he reached a hand out towards the noise.
Where were the walls of his prison? His fingers should have met the slimy coldness of those ancient stone walls. And he seemed to be lying down. That was the worst of his imprisonment -- the crouched position he'd been forced to adopt. His muscles had cramped and knotted, and though he'd twisted his body constantly to bring relief, relief had eluded him.
Perhaps he'd fallen asleep, and been taken back to the relative comfort of the small cell he shared with Archie and Hunter. Perhaps Don Masserado had taken pity on him. Perhaps Hunter had confessed to his part in the escape. If only he could think more clearly....
The rustling sounded again. And now he felt a whispery plucking across his chest. Without thinking, he brought his hand up to brush away the disturbance, and his fingers recognized the hairy pelt of a rat.
"No!" The word burst from his lips, and he struggled to a seated position. A small thump and a frenzied skittering assured him that the rat -- by God, it *had* been a rat, had made good its escape. Horatio fought to control his breathing. The Devil take the French, the Spanish, and Hunter with his damned rabble also. If only he were free...
Suddenly he realized that he could see more clearly. He had been released then from that accursed hole, that vile prison which had nearly claimed Archie's life...
Archie! Oh dear God, Archie! Sawyer -- the Renown -- the court-martial! How could he have believed himself back in Spain? No, he was here, here in Kingston, and tomorrow...
Tomorrow he would stand on the quarter-deck of the Renown once more, and in front of the whole ship's crew -- some strangers, some old friends -- be shot. Shot for raising a hand against his Captain, shot for mutiny -- black and bloody.
Hot tears pricked his eyes. How could he bear it? How could he bear those eyes watching -- with hate, with disappointment. He'd failed Archie, he'd failed Sawyer, he'd failed Captain Pellew. He'd failed his father. And he'd failed himself. A moment of madness. Sawyer would have fallen anyway. But he'd reached out his hand in enmity. And now -- a strangled sob burst from his lips and he covered his face with his hands. The guard. He mustn't let the guard hear.
Perhaps there was a way. They'd left him with no pistol, no sword -- only a lantern, the quill, ink, and some paper. God, even hanging seemed impossible. Wait -- his razor. But no, he remembered now. It was never left. The lantern then -- surely there must be some sharp edge that could slice open a vein.
By God, he'd do it! Dead, he'd not have to face those eyes on the morrow, dead he would cheat those out to gloat over his disgrace. Dead, he'd never know.... He swung his legs over the edge of the cot, but before he could push himself upright, the manic energy ebbed away as quickly as it had arisen.
He was afraid. Afraid to face all those he'd failed. Afraid to face the bullets that would snuff out his life. But more afraid to take his own life. A failure. He would die a failure. Archie had died in a final supreme act of loyalty.. Even Wellard and Sawyer had died bravely facing the enemy. But he would die because he'd flaunted the Articles of War, struck down a superior officer, turned his back on his duty. Let the dawn come. Let the men of Renown see what happened to those who thought themselves above the rigid rules and regulations which melded the glorious Royal Navy into the fighting force that it was. Let them all learn.
The voice nibbled on the edges of his mind.
"Mother?" He had no recollection of opening his eyes, but he could see his mother clearly. Why, she looked so young, like she'd just stepped out of his miniature.
"Dear Horatio." She seemed to float across the space between them and settle so lightly on his cot that he could scarce feel her presence.
"You shouldn't be here, Mother. Tomorrow..." Yes, tomorrow they would shoot him. His mother shouldn't see that, shouldn't see her son die.
"I know." A gentle soothing breath of air seemed to bathe his face -- she'd raised her hand towards him, and he reached out, but somehow could not grasp that hand.
"I -- I'm sorry, " he whispered. "I thought to be a credit to you and Father. How will he bear..."
Again he felt that calming breathe, and it seemed to stop his lips.
"You have always been a dear son to us, Horatio. Do not doubt yourself now. "
"But, Mother...."
"Look for your true worth in the hearts and minds of your friends, Horatio. In the hearts and minds of those who live because of you. And do not be afraid."
Somewhere a cannon boomed. Horatio started. For only a second his mind groped confusedly, and then the events of the past few days slipped into his mind in complete clarity once again. This was it, then. A pale light filtered through the bars on the window, the last day he would know. Do not be afraid. His mother's words echoed through his head. God, his mother! What dreams he'd had. First he'd thought himself back at El Ferol, and then his mother.....
Stiffly, he stood up. They would come for him soon. Donning his waistcoat , he slipped his watch out of the pocket. Yes, soon. Would they send his watch back to his father, or..... Well, he had no further use for it. He tucked it back in, and then reached into the other pocket brought forth the small locket.
Do not be afraid. Only a dream, of course. Only a dream....
The locket was replaced as the watch had been. He then tied his neckcloth, adjusting it carefully until it met with his approval. Carefully he retied his queue and shrugged into his jacket. He was ready now, if a man could ever be ready for what awaited him this morning on board Renown.
His gaze drifted over to the small table, where his letter lay. Unfinished. He'd written what he could, knowing that these would be the last words he could impart to his father. But he had left it unsigned, because the words had stopped coming. Now, covering the short distance to the crude bench, he sat down and dipping the quill into the ink, added a final paragraph.
Do not be afraid.
"Thank you, Mother, " he whispered, as he
signed his name.
The bosun's pipes twittered as first Captain Hammond and then Sir Thomas made their way through the entry port. They'd seen fit to come separately, Collins noted, as though neither one wished to share the pomp surrounding their arrival. How different had been Mr. Hornblower's appearance a half hour previous -- never had he heard a ship-of-the-line so deathly quiet; the very lines and timbers seemed to hush in respect.
For one extravagantly insensible moment, Collins' mind had conjured up a wild scheme -- rifles empty, a death feigned, a young man secreted below until such time as he could be spirited away to a safe place. A wild scheme indeed, and one whose planning quickly halted, with the first glimpse of the braided bicorne appearing over Renown's side. The previous day Williams had sniffed: "I assume you will ensure this distasteful business is concluded satisfactorily. I for one am sick of the whole affair and no longer wish to soil my hands with it." Obviously he had thought better of that sentiment. Hammond and Williams had come to see blood shed, and blood would be shed indeed, damn their eyes. .
Hornblower was waiting quietly, flanked by four Marines -- Marines who had accompanied him from his prison cell. At least for now he was spared the indignity of having his hands shackled. That the young man would attempt some desperate last-minute escape did not seem in character and apparently this had been recognized by whoever had responsibility for him back in Kingston.
The Spithead nightingales sang again followed by a shouted "Hands aft to witness punishment!" The bosun's voice seemed to break on the last word. Collins had already passed the word to Sergeant Whiting that his Marines -- those not detailed for the firing squad -- were to keep a vigilant watch over the men as they assembled. He'd spent too little time aboard his new command to judge the mood of the crew with any accuracy. Whether they would rejoice in the execution of an officer instead of one of their own or deplore the waste of a good man, he knew not. Best to be prepared, in any eventuality.
Gradually the men shuffled into position, and he knew he was right to have taken precautions. An ominous silence had settled over the Renown, a silence that did not speak of cowed spirits.
Hammond cleared his throat and Williams consulted his chronometer. "Are we to get on with this business today, Mr. Collins?" Sir Thomas said. "I've come away without my usual repast, and am not inclined to linger."
A mumbled curse came from forward, followed by the sharp slap of a starter. Collins had been unable to make out the words, but he hoped that whichever officer had chastised the man, had gone easy on the rope. But in one respect at least, he was in agreement with Captain Williams. He too was not inclined to linger, though Williams' apparent hunger had little to do with it. A false kindness to prolong Mr. Hornblower's agony. Best to have it over.
Collins, a neatly folded linen blindfold in his hand, approached the young man where he stood waiting. He saw no fear in Hornblower's eyes; he could discern no trembling of limbs, no wavering from the young officer's stiff-backed stance, as though he was merely keeping watch on Renown's deck. Collins could not begin to comprehend the depth of courage required to appear so steadfast. He dared not imagine how he himself might meet the fate awaiting the condemned man -- a fate only minutes away.
Several trite phrases had come to Collins' mind. "My deepest sympathy" -- how dare he offer sympathy when he himself had been one of those passing judgment. "You go to a far better place, sir." -- Bloody nonsense! "Justice must be served, sir!" -- Sir Thomas could say those words without a twinge of conscience, but he could not.
In the end he knew he sounded like a foolish child. "If there is anything...."
"Yes, sir. I have a letter for my father..." Hornblower fumbled in the pocket of his coat, and drew forth a folded paper. "The direction is written on the cover." He held the letter out, and Collins could discern just the smallest tremor.
"Of course, sir. I will see to it."
Hornblower's jaw had then squared slightly. "And if I may inquire -- Captain Pellew, will he recover from his illness?"
"I stopped round to Hibbert House last evening. He is still delirious, but there is some hope now." He had lied to his fellow jurists as to Sir Edward's state of health; at least he need not do so to the Commodore's doomed protege.
"Thank you, sir. If you would -- thank him for all his kindnesses in the past."
"I will do so, Mr. Hornblower."
"And Mr. Kennedy -- "
"He is to be buried at sea from Renown with all honor, sir. " The young man's face for an instant lost its immobility, and Collins for the first time guessed at the bond which might have existed between the two Lieutenants. Impulsively he touched Hornblower's arm and said, "He will not be alone."
Then Collins raised the linen, and Hornblower gave his acquiescence with the barest tilt of his head. The blindfold was tied in place, and Hornblower's hands secured behind his back. He was then led to the aforedesignated spot on the deck, assisted to a kneeling position, and awaited the fatal shots.
"Marines, present!" Sergeant Whiting's voice boomed out. "Fire!"
As simple as that.
A cheery soul. He'd joked so casually after that action in Samana Bay. What a bloody black joke! Matthews wiped the tears from his face with the back of hand. When he slipped his cable, a cheery soul might indeed be found to sew him up in his hammock. He was just a seaman, after all, and who would miss him? But no cheery soul provided for Mr. Hornblower this day.
"Come on, Matty," Styles said, plucking at his shirt. "Let the sailmaker do that."
Matthews shook Styles' hand away. His mate meant well. But he couldn't -- couldn't let anyone touch.....
At least they hadn't hung him. Matthews had seen men hang, watched their desperate struggle as they were hoisted up to the yardarm. Sometimes they kicked and writhed for what seemed like an eternity. At least the Marines' muskets had killed mercifully. Hornblower looked at peace, only a small thread of blood at the corner of his mouth to show that he was not merely sleeping. So young. He was still so young. Matthews saw him once again, such a short time ago, when he had indeed been only asleep. Thirty-six hours on continuous watch. That bloody bastard Sawyer! The penalty for sleeping on watch was death. Matthews was only too pleased to thwart the captain, allow his third lieutenant a few minutes of needed rest.
When they'd led him onto the deck of the Renown and placed the blindfold over his eyes, even then Matty had hoped -- for what? Had his opinion been sought, he could have offered none. But surely, some how, someone....
The shots had rang out. The body crumpled. There'd been no magic telescope to wrest from Styles' grasp this time This time the miracle never happened.
Dr. Clive had been called. He'd only taken a minute before he'd nodded his head. Dead. And that Sir William from the court-martial -- the one that went on so about bloody mutiny -- as though the Renown had become Hermione in the man's mind -- had walked up to Mr. Hornblower, and nudged him with the toe of his shoe.
"You have orders to set sail immediately?" he'd said to Collins. "Once you clear the harbor, throw this man over the side like the offal he is."
It had been Styles this time who'd put his hand firmly on his shoulder, and muttered under his breath, "Easy there, Matty," or he'd be twisting from the yardarm himself, run afoul of the Article which said that a man daren't lay a hand on a superior officer.
And now he crouched here, taking one stitch after another, until finally he was done. At least Collins had more heart to him than he'd shown in the courtroom. As soon as all that gold braid had been piped away, he'd motioned Matthews to him and given him his instructions.
"Mr. Kennedy is to be buried at dusk, Matthews. I believe it possible that the service might accommodate two. But it's to be done quietly, with no mention of that."
"Aye, aye, sir." He'd knuckled his forehead and then taken his chance. "But word might get round, sir..."
Collins had hesitated. Looked like the man was damning himself now, for that remark about Buckland. "Yes, Matthews, it might indeed. I'll not hold you responsible if such should occur. "
Matthews now reached out and touched the white canvas gently. "God be with ye, sir, " he whispered once again.
William Bush stood to attention. His upright stance still pulled at the edges of his wound, but the pain was much diminished. Looking around him, he saw that a goodly portion of the ship's company had mustered for the proceedings.
Mutineers were dispatched with little ceremony -- enlisted men left to hang and rot, as a warning for others who might harbor like ideas. And officers -- hastily disposed of, an embarrassment which the representatives of Admiralty justice wished to dispense with as quickly and quietly as possible. Yet today a self-confessed mutineer and murderer lay side-by-side with an officer of His Majesty's Navy who now was entitled to the full majesty of burial at sea.
Hornblower had accomplished that for his friend. Kennedy had struggled to reach the court, prepared to give up his good name -- for the vagaries of war had already snatched away his life -- but in death his name had been restored.
Many of the men lining the catwalks and standing in the rigging had flourished under Sawyer's commanding, spending their days half drunk and idle. Hornblower had made them work, had made them fight, had risked his own life to save theirs. Had started to give them pride. No doubt some of the slower witted among them still longed for the old slack times, never knowing the joy of serving in a taut ship, with a fair Captain. But he could see regret in the majority of those hardened faces, and a deep hush that came only from profound respect.
Even Hobbs had come round. He'd had his chance there in the courtroom, his chance to side with Buckland. The Hobbs he'd known on his first weeks on Renown would have lived to see his notion of justice done, his Captain avenged. He stood now, a few paces away, and Bush wondered if he had come to see in Hornblower a young Captain Sawyer, destined for greatness.
Those among the crew who had served with Hornblower on the Indefatigable were as broken men now. Styles, pressed, with a right to be bitter. A hard man, a fighter, quick to anger. And Matthews. A steady man, one any officer could depend on. How many years had he served? How many young officers had they both served who had not a tenth of their experience, yet enjoyed the power of life and death over them? Either one of them would have relinquished life and chosen their own death for this young man, without his even asking, much less shaping an order.
He had been surprised and pleased to catch the word that Mr. Hornblower was to be given a proper burial at sea and not dumped without ceremony overboard as Captain Williams had ordered. Bush had heard of that incident which had occurred months before he'd joined Renown -- a young boy dead on the deck. He was guilty of nothing but inexperience, yet Sawyer had ordered him treated like offal also. Perhaps Collins sought to redeem himself somehow for his part in the judicial proceedings. Perhaps he merely hoped to throw a sop to the men, stop discontent from fomenting. He had no knowledge of Collins, but he'd not make the same mistake he'd made with Sawyer and judge the man before time.
Collins stood with the prayerbook in his hand. The other officers of the Renown stood beside him. Coakley, transferred from Vanguard. Salter, Renown's senior Midshipman, now Acting Lieutenant. Mr. Buckland however was missing.
Buckland had also been absent during -- the execution. Somehow, afterwards, Bush had made his way down to the wardroom, just in time to hear another shot, loud and echoing. The door was ajar -- no question where the sound had come from. Gingerly he'd pushed it open, not knowing what he might find. An accidental discharge perhaps or....
Buckland sat there, the pistol still in his hand, the air heavy with the reek of gunpowder. A flask of wine stood nearly empty on the table in front of him, and the hand that held the pistol shook. The man himself was very much alive, but it took but a moment for Bush to understand. Carefully he pried the weapon from Buckland's fingers. Buckland looked up at him with the heavy-lidded stare of a man drunk, and then had then buried his face in his hands.
"It's over, " Bush said abruptly. "I suppose you might consider yourself successful in this, if nothing else."
"I never meant...." Buckland cried, his voice muffled.
"Oh, I think you did. But you'll get no joy of it, sir. " Carefully Bush laid the pistol on the table, and left the wardroom.
Now, as the words of the service were read he wondered whether another shot had resounded through the wardroom. Wondered, but cared little. The man was dead anyway, whether his body lived or no.
Already Mr. Kennedy's body had been received into bosom of the sea. Now Collins' voice reached to where Bush was standing. "We therefore commit the body of Horatio Hornblower to the deep, to be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body, (when the Sea shall give up her dead,) and the life of the world to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who at his coming shall change our vile body, that it may be like his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself. "
As Collins' voice died away, the plank was lifted, and the body slipped off. A soft sigh enveloped the whole ship's company, and then there was silence. In death, as in life, Mr. Hornblower and Mr. Kennedy voyaged together.
Cheated. That's what he felt, Bush realized. He felt cheated. For a brief time, he'd been privy to something special, something he would never see again. He knew that the grief Matthews and Styles shared, the grief that Pellew, if he survived the yellow Jack, would know, was a grief he did not have the audacity to call his own. He'd known Hornblower for too short a time, and part of that time, he'd been in needless opposition to the man, not knowing what fires burned beneath that stoic face. But for a few days, he'd been part of it. Part of the special friendship between Kennedy and Hornblower, part of a recklessness that nevertheless seemed to turn out all right. For a few days he'd understood what duty and loyalty truly meant.
Or he thought he had. He'd been cheated not just of Hornblower's leadership and brilliance, but of his own faith that one need only do one's duty to the best of one's ability, and one would be all right. That was gone forever. If Hornblower's death was needed to press home some kind of lesson, some kind of warning to other officers, then it was not in vain. He, for one, had learned that lesson well. The men were moving now. Back to their stations, back to the duties of their particular watch. Bush clapped his cocked hat on his head and joined them.
Day 10
Where the devil was his lemonade? How long had he been sitting here waiting? No -- he was no longer sitting. His head still ached, and his body too, but he seemed to be lying down.
Opening his eyes, he saw Purvis, his steward, sitting in a chair at his bedside, eyes shut, and a faint snoring sound whistling from his nostrils. What was Purvis doing, sleeping in that chair? Why did he feel as though he had drank his way through his complete stock of burgundy? And what was that smell -- like a sickroom -- sweat and vomit and worse?
Purvis gave a particularly loud snort and jerked awake. "Captain Pellew, sir!" he exclaimed, but seemed able to do nothing more than stare at him with goggling eyes.
"I believe that is who I am, Purvis! Now tell me what's been going on." He struggled to push himself upright, but somehow he felt so weak and light-headed.
"Why, it was the fever, sir, we thought as though you were, well, going to die, sir, but now we can begin to hope...." Purvis's voice finally trailed away. He took a great gulp of air and said, a little more slowly, "If you'll just rest easy, sir, I'll call for the doctor, and then make you a little more comfortable. "
Pellew closed his eyes again; the chore of keeping them open was beyond him, right at the moment. The fever, Purvis had said. Vaguely he remembered -- what exactly did he remember? Calling for some lemonade -- some strange phantasmagorical images -- he must have been delirious, and something else, something else he needed to remember. Feebly he clutched at the bedclothes, but nothing more came, and darkness overtook him once again.
The next time he regained his senses, the doctor was prodding at him. "I'm not dead yet, sir, " Pellew croaked, his mouth desert-dry and his tongue seemingly swollen too big for it. The doctor nodded, and Purvis, lifting his head slightly, held a glass of cool water to his lips.
"No, I can see that you are not dead, " the doctor said, as Pellew greedily drank the water, not caring how much of it spilled back out of his mouth. "Though it was a close-run business, sir. "
"How long ...."
" Over a week, sir, and I recommend another week in your bed before you think of being up and about your business."
His business. He'd been about some business, but damned if he knew what it was.
The doctor left and Pellew allowed himself to be bathed, and his bedlinen and nightshirt changed. Another small nap, and this time when he awoke, he could actually say that he felt somewhat refreshed.
"Some broth, sir? " Purvis asked. Purvis looked dreadful; his aging face haggard and drawn, his eyes barely managing to stay open.
"Yes, Purvis, some broth would do well. And then, man, get some rest yourself."
"Yes, sir. Oh, and there has been a Captain Collins inquiring after you. He's been around everyday since you fell ill. And Captain Hammond is presently awaiting below. If you feel up to it, he does seem most anxious to speak to you."
Collins. Yes, of course, Collins. And Hammond. Once again a memory hovered just out of reach.
"Send him up, Purvis, if you will."
Sir Edward this time managed to pull himself upward a little in the bed, though his heart raced alarmingly as he did so. And he managed a somewhat decent "Come!" when a hesitant knock sounded on his door.
It took only one look at Hammond's strutting gait and the faintly sour look on his face for the memories to come crashing through the ghostly web of illness that had clouded his brain.
"Good God, the court-martial!" The startling return of his faculties was so sudden, so complete that he thrust his bedclothes aside and almost attempted to leap to his feet. But his head threatened to explode, and his limbs trembled alarmingly as he sunk back onto the mattress.
"Commodore, please, do not exert yourself!" Hammond exclaimed, glancing backward towards the door where Purvis has disappeared after escorting him in. The damn fellow looked liked he expected him to drop dead any minute! But he had to know....
"I assume the court-martial was postponed, " he said. Damn! To think of Hornblower languishing in that infernally hot cell, waiting, waiting....
Hammond stood silent for a moment, a very strange expression on his face, and a chill possessed Pellew, body and soul, a chill the depths of which he had never felt before. "Not postponed?" he asked carefully. "Then perhaps it was put off altogether?"
Hammond cleared his throat. "No, Sir Edward. Vanguard arrived in port a number of days ago and Captain Sir Thomas Williams did us the great favor of taking your place."
"And the court-martial went ahead as scheduled." Tell me, tell me, your fool! he wanted to scream. Yet if the news were -- not what he might want to hear -- then for a little while longer he could pretend otherwise.
"Yes. "
"Dammit, man, you must tell me!"
Hammond raised one eyebrow. "Come, Sir Edward, you must not exert yourself..."
"I'll have you court martialed yourself, Hammond, if you don't bloody well continue..."
"No need to get excited, Commodore. The court martial is over and done with. Mr. Buckland made the accusation that Mr. Hornblower had pushed Captain Sawyer down the hatchway. Although the witness he called to give corroborating testimony was unable to confirm or deny the accusation, the court felt that the question must be put to the accused."
Pellew closed his eyes wearily. He remembered that fleeting look on Hornblower's face, that subtle shifting away of his eyes. " And I am quite sure that Mr. Hornblower took the blame for the Captain's fall."
"Yes. He admitted quite candidly to having pushed Captain Sawyer."
"And did no one else offer testimony on this point?" His questions seemed pointless now; perhaps he asked them to postpone Hammond's relating of the eventual outcome of the proceedings.
"Mr. Buckland called on a Mr. Hobbs, a gunner's mate, I believe, to corroborate his accusation. One wonders why, as the man admitted having no knowledge of the perpetrator of the foul deed. And another officer came forward just before Mr. Hornblower's testimony, but the man collapsed and died in the courtroom before uttering a word. Possibly he might have shed some light on the matter, though in view of Hornblower's admission, I cannot see how it might have made a difference. "
Kennedy. Prepared to lie for his friend, no doubt. A dying man anyway -- he had nothing to lose. And doubtless less of a stickler for the niceties of the truth.
"And so Hornblower was found guilty of mutiny. "
"And sentenced ....?"
"To hang."
"Oh dear God!" His eyes blurred as his mind unbidden conjured up the picture of a body jerking and kicking from the end of a rope, a slow wretched death. "Dear God!"
"No, Sir Edward, though the man deserved nothing less. You can thank your friend Collins for preventing a hanging." Collins. Had he perhaps worked a miracle somehow, had the sentence commuted to imprisonment, or even expulsion from the service.... Deep in his soul, he knew such a miracle was unlikely, but somehow he had to hold on to such hopes for as long as possible.
"Yes, indeed, " Hammond continued. "The man was most adamant that you would be quite put out to see your protege hung like a common criminal and even though...."
"You never expected to see me alive again -- yes, go on, Hammond!"
Hammond cleared his throat and at least had the decency to look somewhat chagrined. "Well, as a consequence of his representation on your behalf, the man was taken to Renown instead and shot."
Shot. The word itself was like a bullet through Pellew's own heart. Shot. Surely he was still in the grip of the yellow fever, surely he was still delirious. Shot.
"Like Byng." Pellew whispered.
"Exactly like Byng, " Hammond said. "These people must be made examples of. One cannot flout the Articles of War, sir, especially those officers themselves charged with their upholding, and no matter how promising you might have found Hornblower when he served under you, even you yourself could not have found him innocent, after his testimony."
"But was no mention made of Captain Sawyer's condition before -- before the fall down the hold." Pellew remembered too clearly the desperate tale Hornblower had divulged during his visit -- oh dear God, his last visit!
"The court saw no reason to examine the issue. Dr. Clive had not declared him unfit for command until after the fall. "
"Of course. Dr. Clive." Sir Edward closed his eyes, and opened them again, but Black Charlie Hammond still stood before him. Black he would indeed stay in his memory, from this day on.
"Sir Edward...."
"I wish to be alone now, Hammond, if you please."
"Of course. " Hammond hesitated, and then laid a letter on the small bedside table. "Collins has already taken the Renown to sea -- it was thought politic to get that rabble out of Kingston as soon as possible -- but he has sent this to you." For yet another moment, Hammond stood where he was, but Pellew had no more words for the man. Once again, he closed his eyes, and this time, when he opened them, Black Charlie had departed.
Pellew could contain himself no longer, and made no attempt to stifle a groan. Purvis stuck his head in the door anxiously, but was waved away.
The enemy might just as well have carved out his heart with a rusty cutlass; that surely would not pain as much as Hammond's words Condemned. Shot. Dead. For a bitter moment, he wished that the fever had claimed his life also; that he had not had to bear the waking up to such grim news. But how dare he think of his own discomfort, his own grief. Mr. Hornblower could no longer think of anything at all.
Those fools! His hand gripped the folds of the bedlinen so hard that his fingers cramped. How many lives had Hornblower saved over the years of his service! And how many blows to the enemy would have resulted as he advanced up the ladder of naval rank and privilege. For he would have advanced, Pellew had no doubt in his mind of that. How many glorious feats written up in the Naval Gazette and cheered by the people hungry for heroes! All this gone -- gone to shore up the reputation of an aging sick man -- a great man, in his time -- but no equal in fire and spirit to the young man sacrificed at his altar.
No one would ever learn just what had transpired in the hold of the Renown. Hornblower, Kennedy, Wellard, Sawyer -- all dead now. But if Hornblower had felt the only way to bring the Renown and her men through the trials awaiting them at Samana Bay was to push Captain Sawyer down that damned hold then Pellew knew he would go forward, and not dither about the possible repercussions to his own person. For the good of the service, Horatio had said. A lesser man might have accomplished the same deed for petty personal reasons. A lesser man might have hidden behind a rhetoric of duty and service. A lesser man would have lied, oaths be damned. But Hornblower lived that ideal of duty and service, and always had.
Pellew felt the unaccustomed wetness of a tear slipping down his cheek. He was reminded -- as though only a few days had passed, rather than years -- of a young man standing in his cabin, unable to control his own tears -- crying because he could not control, could not make right, a situation beyond the control of any of them. He'd talked to him of duty, to his country, his ship, his men. And what else had this whole dreadful business been about but duty -- a duty he had fulfilled with stunning success, a duty even to the poor mad Captain whose power he had usurped. A duty which had killed him.
The tears flowed faster now. He'd not even had the chance to say good-bye. This young man -- as dear to him as his own son -- no, by God, dearer, for Hornblower had never disappointed him, never asked for any privileges he had not earned -- would never stand on a quarter-deck again or feel a brisk breeze against his face. Gone -- forever gone.
Only later, after he'd dropped off into a fitful sleep, and reawakened, to find his grief unassauged, did he remember the letter which Hammond had left. He reached across and plucked it from its resting place, and breaking the wax seal, began to read.
Renown, January __, 1802
Dear Sir Edward:
If you are reading this letter, then you have recovered from your illness and I assume have been acquainted with the outcome of the court-martial of the officers of the Renown.
My deepest sympathy is extended to you in the loss of Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower. I know he was a favorite of yours, and from the little I came to know of him, rightly so. I believe we may never know the truth of the events on board the Renown which led up to this terrible outcome.
At this time, I must take upon myself the blame for a turn of event which in all probability resulted in the condemnation of Mr. Hornblower. I can only hope that you have not yet read the transcript of the court proceedings, though I do not intend in any way to moderate my culpability ; I wish only for you to hear of it from my own lips first.
I know you had occasion to speak with Mr.Hornblower before you were struck by the yellow fever but I do not know how much knowledge you have of the circumstances on board the Renown during the attempted takeover by the Spanish prisoners. The man Buckland is a fool, and had the infernal bad luck to be caught in his bed by the Spaniards. I unwisely goaded the man with this fact, and made him the laughing stock of the court. In retaliation, Mr. Buckland accused Mr. Hornblower of pushing Captain Sawyer down into the hold. It was this injury which eventually led to Sawyer's being found unfit to command.
Once the accusation was made, the court saw no other alternative than to put the question to Mr. Hornblower himself. And when that question was so put to him, he answered yes.
Previous testimony by both Mr. Buckland and Mr. Hornblower himself, had led me to believe the latter to be a resourceful and brave officer, whose duty to his country and his ship were beyond reproach. I cannot reconcile that impression with a man who would in cold blood deliberately lay his hands on a superior officer with the intention to do him an injury. Nevertheless, so Mr. Hornblower testified, and so he was condemned. You of course know this young officer much better than I, and perhaps can understand
Of necessity, the verdict was guilty, and the sentence, death. I hang my head in shame that the only service I could render was in convincing the court that sentence be carried out by firing squad, as befitted an officer and a gentleman.
Renown was under orders to sail as soon as this sentence was carried out, and as I write, she is being readied to get under way. The only solace I can give to you, Sir Edward, is the fact that Mr. Hornblower met his end bravely, and death seemed to be instantaneous. I am expected to dispose of his body as quickly and unceremoniously as possible after clearing port, but rest assured, he will be buried at sea with all dignity.
At the end, Mr. Hornblower wished me to thank you for your past kindnesses, which I now do. I also have his seachest in my possession and will await your orders as to its disposal.
These paltry services in no way lesson the guilt I feel for my part in this whole lamentable affair, and I will not think less of you, sir, if you think less of me for it. And I have not undertaken these services to in any way ingratiate myself amongst the men of the Renown. I saw a young man who served his country in an exemplary manner. And I saw him lose this fight to an embittered embarrassed old Lieutenant, to a Captain perhaps resentful and suspicious of his ambition, and to another Captain so blinded by his fear of mutiny that he needed to make an example of someone, anyone.
Let us pray that no other young man, so needed by England in her desperate struggle, will be wasted as this one has been.
I remain,
Y'r obedient servant
Henry Collins
Sir Edward let the letter fall to the coverlet. Had he taken his rightful place as President of the Court, could he have tempered the outcome? He'd reached the rank of Commodore, outranking both Hammond and Collins. Surely that would have counted for something. Yes, as an officer in His Majesty's Service, he had command of men, and of ships, and by force of rank could possibly sway even the outcome of a court-martial. But rank could not change the winds, nor stem the tide, nor bring the dead to life.
A few months later......
Bush swung himself up into the saddle with less than the usual enthusiasm he might have shown at the prospect of a pleasant ride through the country on one of those rare spring days that promised bright sunshine and a somewhat less than frigid temperature. As a lad he'd had the pleasure of riding daily -- though the funds expended on the upkeep of his father's small stable often meant the family sat down to plain fare. Perhaps this was what he missed most, serving in His Majesty's Royal Navy, and he was disgusted to realize that he harbored some resentment at the reason for his ride today.
He remembered only too well his vacillating emotions as he'd turned back into the gaol to spend those last few moments with Hornblower. He'd never regretted it, of course; his conscience was eased in one respect at least. But the greater guilt would never depart. This journey to Waltham Chase was also a penance. He did not want to visit Dr. Hornblower. He did not want to see the sorrow he knew he would find in the old man's face. He did not want to remind Horatio's father that his son was dead, but others, equally as guilty, still lived.
Renown had spent a number of weeks in the Caribbean, before news was received of the Peace. Now he found himself in Portsmouth, on half pay, with little likelihood of further employment as a Lieutenant. At least he'd some prize money -- blood money, but money none the less, that would see himself and his sisters at least saved from starvation for the immediate future.
In fact, he could ill afford the cost of this horse, for this day, but he had spent the money nonetheless, and now turned the animal's head towards the road out of Portsmouth, the road leading to an appointment -- or perhaps a confrontation -- that he did not anticipate with any joy.
He assumed that Dr. Hornblower was already in receipt of the news of his son's demise. The thought that he might arrive at the door making that assumption, only to find that he was the herald of death, horrified him. Surely the Admiralty would have sent word. News of the court-martial, conviction -- and execution -- had already been printed in the Naval Gazette. The entry had been terse: "Kingston, Jamaica, January, 1802 -- In the case of the court-martial of the officers of HMS Renown, one Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower found guilty of mutiny, and sentenced to death. Sentence has been carried out."
Bush discerned the heavy hand of Commodore Pellew in the brevity of the entry, though he might have been wrong there. Pellew had recovered fully, and left Jamaica for England shortly thereafter. Bush would have liked to speak to him, but of course their respective positions did not allow for that. He wondered if the sentence and execution weighed heavy on the Commodore's mind. Would his sitting on the court have made a difference? The service was rife with nepotism. Pellew was said to possess a forceful personality -- would he have used it to swerve the predilections of the other judges, or at least mitigate the sentence? Or would he have been disgusted at the behavior of one of his own, and concurred with his fellow jurists?
Damn! No sense wallowing in such useless speculation! Hornblower was dead, and no amount of such speculation would restore him to life. The only duty left now to Bush was to attempt to resurrect his good name with the person who counted most -- his father.
It was Matthews who'd told him about Dr. Hornblower. The weeks on Renown had been lonely for Bush -- a new captain, two new lieutenants -- and Buckland. The man had degenerated into a hopeless drunk. If he'd not been paid off at the cessation of the war, he most certainly would have been cashiered for drunkenness. Bush had stayed well away from him. Just looking at the man turned his stomach, and on more than one occasion, he'd been thankful he'd not had a pistol in his hand, for Buckland would be dead and he himself convicted of murder.
So the two of them -- Matthews and himself -- had drifted together, and often their conversations turned to Horatio. Time and again, Bush saw the bo'sun struggle with his emotions, at mention of the name. The man was a veteran of years at sea, and a competent and fair bo'sun. Hornblower had gained his respect -- and love, though Matthews would never admit it -- many years in the past.
Bush felt he had come to know Hornblower -- through Matthew's eyes -- better in death than he had ever known him in life, and now he felt doubly cheated. Perhaps things had turned out for the best -- the Peace of Amiens might give him the opportunity to leave the Service, make an end to it, find some line of work which did not exact such a terrible price from its brightest young men. At this moment, he could not envision the nature of such work, but surely something would turn up. Horses. Perhaps his familiarity with horses might lead to promising employment.
Horses. Hornblower had hated horses. Matthews had passed that little piece of information along to him, and Bush had to smile. A man who hated horses but rode one when required. A man afraid of heights who nevertheless went over the cliff's edge, whether to save a cannon and a young midshipman who rode it, or to jump into the sea. A man who stayed at sea, bedeviled by seasickness. "Seasick in Spithead, 'e was, sir, " Matthews had said. "The joke of the fleet."
The joke of the fleet. Executed for mutiny. Between these two damning epithets, lay a life of honor and duty, a life which embued those sometimes hackneyed words with their purest meaning.
Damn Hornblower! Bush had looked upon his naval career as a series of mundane steps. You learned the job, and you did it. Some officers were fair and able leaders, some officers were bastards. You tempered your actions to suit their foibles. Life and death were meted out by the hand of fate -- at the end of the day, if you'd not been taken by illness, accident, or the shot of an enemy ship, you could count yourself lucky. You rose in the ranks by that luck, and the bad luck of those above you. You learned by experience and often painful studies. You were naturally apt in some ways -- gunnery, for example, and always a bumbler in others -- navigation perhaps. That was the way of it. You accepted your lot. For a few mad weeks, Hornblower had given him a glimpse of another reality. Hornblower had shown him that anything was possible.
His fingers strayed to his pocket. It was during one of those late-night watches that Matthews had handed over a small packet.
" 'is watch and a likeness of his ma, " Matthews had explained. " 'e 'ad 'em in his pocket when -- when I was layin' 'im out. His da might like to 'ave 'em."
The English countryside had never looked more glorious, with the brilliant green of spring growth, a drift of blossoms on the apple trees, and the sweet singing of little unnamed birds in the hedgerows, going about their serious business of bring new life into the world. New life. New life all round. Bush sighed. Better the day be cold and rainy -- to match his gloomy thoughts. I can still turn round. I don't have to do this. Dr. Hornblower is not expecting me, and in fact does not know I exist. For a moment he even pulled back on the reins , but only for a moment. The next few hours would be difficult, but not as difficult as facing his guilt if he did not go on.
The little hamlet of Waltham Chase reminded him of his own birthplace. He stopped to ask directions of a prosperous looking gentleman in the street. The directions were given, though reluctantly, and the gentleman called after him "But I am not sure if the Doctor is receiving visitors." Did that mean that Dr. Hornblower had indeed received news of his son? Bush prayed to God that it were true.
He pulled up in front of the small cottage, tethered his horse and stepped up to the door. Raising his hand to knock, he yet hesitated. Why am I doing this? I need only to remount and leave; those inside who might notice my actions will think it strange, but I will never know. But even as his thoughts turned rebellious, his hand reached forward and lifting the small brass knocker, let it drop.
He waited. No one seemed to have heard him. He knocked again, and made himself stand there a full minute. If no one answered now, he could turn around and leave, with no blame. The watch and miniature could easily be sent by post. Yes, that would do quite well. No need to linger here. And he was actually on the verge of leaving, when the door opened.
The woman standing there was elderly, and wore a black dress. Well, that certainly seemed to mean that the inhabitants of this unassuming little house had indeed received the grim news. He was spared that much at least.
"Is Doctor Hornblower at home?" he asked.
"He is, sir, but is not receiving visitors at this time." she answered.
The man in the village had warned him of that. Very well. That put an end to the whole affair.
"Then I'm sorry to have bothered you, ma'am. Good day." He turned away and had almost reached his patiently waiting horse when the woman spoke again.
"Sir, may I tell him who called?" She looked at him strangely, and Bush realizing that she was staring at his uniform. Of course. She knew he served in His Majesty's Navy.
"My name is William Bush, ma'am...."
"Oh my goodness!" The woman laid a gnarled hand on her bosom, as though to still a racing heart. "Mr. Bush! Well, sir, please come in! I will inform Dr. Hornblower that you are here! He would not want you to leave without seeing him."
Now what the devil was going on! How could two old people in a rustic hamlet like Waltham Chase know aught of Lieutenant William Bush? And what could they know to make the door of the ivy-covered house open so magically? For the woman had stood aside, and Bush had no option but to step within.
"Now you just wait here and I'll go and tell the good Doctor you've arrived." She bustled off with an alacrity that belied her years, disappearing through a doorway just to his right. He stood ramrod stiff just where she had left him, his hands clasped behind his back but his eyes took in everything there was to see. Not much, by the looks of things. He'd always suspected that Hornblower lacked financial resources -- his uniforms were shabby, and his shirts threadbare. This small home -- or what little he could see of it -- though painstakingly clean and neat, spoke very clearly of straightened circumstances. He of course was making no judgment -- his own background certainly precluded that. So this is where Hornblower had spent his youth -- not that he could imagine him as a little boy.
"The doctor will see you, sir, " the woman said, reappearing in the small entry hall. "He is quite frail, and of course still suffering from..." she took a deep breath and then continued, "So if you would take care not to upset or tire him..."
"Of course not, ma'am."
He followed the plump woman -- the housekeeper no doubt, as he knew that Hornblower's mother had died a number of years previous. The room to which she led him was lined with books; the priority in this home of small means was very evident, and he remembered the books in Horatio's tiny cabin on board Renown, and how eager he appeared to escape to them -- when he wasn't on continuous watch -- damn! Did all thoughts lead to...
"Mr Bush?" An old man sat in an overstuffed armchair, a blanket tucked over his legs. God, but he looked like Hornblower -- a Hornblower aged and infirm, but the likeness was very evident, nonetheless. A shiver went through him; he felt he'd been catapulted into the future, but a future which could never be.
"Mr. Bush?"
"Oh, excuse me, sir. " He must have been standing there goggling; Dr. Hornblower would think him fit only for Bedlam. " Dr. Hornblower?" He stepped forward to shake the proffered hand. Hornblower's hand, long and slim, though spotted with age, and shaking slightly.
"I thank you for coming, sir, " the old man said. "Margaret will bring us some tea. Please, sit."
For the next few minutes they chatted about the weather, the condition of the road from Portsmouth to Waltham Chase, the possibility of the peace lasting. Margaret brought in the tea tray, poured both Dr. Hornblower and Bush a cup of Britain's finest, and then retired. The social niceties had now been observed.
Bush cleared his throat. God, what could he say?
"You have come about my son," Dr. Hornblower said.
"Ah, yes. I -- ah, I'm ..." Damn! He'd almost said he was pleased the Doctor had received the bad news previously. Pleased that he himself had escaped the onerous duty, was more to the point. *Why in Hell did I come?* What did I think I could accomplish. "I -- understand you have received word ..."
"I have, Mr. Bush. Captain Pellew himself brought the news. Along with .... his sea chest." Dr. Hornblower paused and took a sip of tea. Composing himself, Bush guessed. He could not imagine how the sight of his son's belongings would have affected him.
"Pellew himself? "
"Yes. A very illustrious officer, I've been told. For him to have taken the trouble ..... " Again Horatio's father faltered. "He -- he appeared most distraught, and seemed to blame himself somehow."
Well, Bush could help him with that mystery, at least. "Captain Pellew was stricken with yellow fever, and consequently his place on the court-martial was taken by -- another."
"Would that have made a difference, Mr. Bush? Forgive me for asking -- I know so little..."
At once, Bush was glad he had come. "We can only guess, Dr. Hornblower. Captain Pellew knew your son, and the officer taking his place on the court did not. Pellew might have gone harder on a man he had come to hold in such high regard, in response to a disappointment, or he might have eased the way to an acquittal. I do not know the man, so I cannot say." He felt it safer to cloud the truth a little here. Pellew *would* have made a difference -- he felt it in his gut. But he would not bedevil Dr. Hornblower with his own musings, when they could not serve to ease his heart. "But if you wish, I can tell you a little of the events which led up to -- the court-martial. "
Dr. Hornblower nodded his greyed head slowly. "If you would, Mr. Bush. But first -- Mrs. Dabney brews a fine pot of tea, but perhaps something a little stronger might be more appropriate." He waved his hand towards a small sideboard. "If you would be so kind..."
"Of course, sir." Bush stood and walking across the room, poured both himself and Dr. Hornblower a generous glass of brandy. He placed one glass on the small table beside the tea things, and taking his place once again, availed himself of a generous sip of the brandy. Neither the best or worst he had tasted in his lifetime, it nevertheless warmed his innards comfortingly.
"And now, sir...." Dr. Hornblower, after fortifying himself also with the strong drink, clasped his hands on the blanket covering him, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
Bush took a moment to compose his thoughts. Despite the loosening effect of the brandy, he nevertheless was nervous. After all, he had known Hornblower for such a short time. Had he any right to speak of the son's accomplishments to the father, when such a recitation would forever after color the father's recollections of his son? He could only be honest, he supposed.
"According to the Articles of War, " he said, "I suppose your son was guilty of mutiny. But then so were we all. We all saw that Captain Sawyer had lost his reason. We all saw that he no longer could command the ship capably, especially as we sailed towards the enemy. In fact, Mr. Hornblower pointed out quite clearly what might await us in Kingston were we to take that command away from Captain Sawyer. It was the fall down the hold..."
"Yes, Captain Pellew told me that much. When asked whether he had pushed Sawyer, my son answered that he had. I could not believe he would deliberately put another man in such peril, despite the circumstances." Dr. Hornblower had opened his eyes, and Bush had no trouble seeing the stricken look in them.
"I must admit to you, Dr. Hornblower, I was not present when Sawyer fell. Your son was, along with Lieutenant Kennedy and a young midshipman, Mr. Wellard. Mr. Kennedy seemed to feel he himself was at fault, for as he advanced towards Captain Sawyer, the Captain retreated, forgetful of the fact that the open hatchway lay behind him. He overbalanced, Kennedy said, overbalanced and fell. After that, there was no question of his incapacity to command."
"If if the man overbalanced, why did my son..."
"Testify that he had pushed him? Perhaps he felt that by not crying out, warning Sawyer of the danger, he had done as good as pushed him. Perhaps he reached out as Sawyer started to fall, and believed that his touch had made the difference, a difference that made the fall unavoidable. Perhaps he felt responsible for Sawyer being in the hold in the first place. The captain was searching for mutineers -- had gotten the notion that mutiny was brewing. Well, he was right. " Bush had prefaced all his statements with a prevaricating 'perhaps' . Better even now that Dr. Hornblower have speculations to think on, and not the truth as Bush had received it from Horatio's own mouth.
"And it was my son who first discussed -- relieving the captain..."
Bush paused, searched his memory. Who had first discussed such an act? He had stumbled into the conspiracy, as Sawyer would have named it, down there in the hold, just moments before that accursed fall. Who had called the meeting? He had no idea. To listen, Buckland appeared the fire-eater, and Hornblower the calm reasoner. Had the initiative come from Buckland, or had the idea been planted by someone else? He couldn't see Kennedy swerving Buckland, but Hornblower?
"To be honest, sir, I cannot answer your question. I must admit I was treated with some reserve by the other lieutenants on board Renown -- I led them to believe when I first came on board that I looked up to Captain Sawyer. I suppose they were right in not including me in any confidences regarding the nature of his command. I only divulged my own doubts to them, after they had already gathered in the hold.
Bush availed himself of another courage-enhancing sip of the brandy. "I only know that your son pursued with vigor the question of the chain of command after Sawyer was incapacitated by the fall. Doctor Clive was most loath to declare the Captain incompetent, both from fear for his own future, and also from loyalty towards a man with whom he had served many years. Even with Sawyer's pistol pressed against his breast, Horatio did not flinch but insisted that Clive make his decision. Had Sawyer not been confined, we might all be dead now. "
"You say Sawyer threatened my son with a pistol?"
"I was belowdecks at the time, but that is my understanding of the situation. Sawyer in fact fired his pistol, forgetting that he had previously discharged it. Horatio would have died, Dr. Hornblower -- he had no way of knowing the pistol was not loaded. "
"He risked his life..."
"Indeed, Dr. Hornblower. He risked his life to save the lives of those on board Renown. The plan of attack on the fort at Samana was his also, just as his guess there was an alternate route into that fort saved the lives -- or at least the freedom -- of the men sent to attack. The capture of the three Spanish prizes were entirely due to his clever thought. The Renown herself would be a Spanish prize were it not for his timely intervention from one of the prizes. Your son was a brave, resourceful officer, Dr. Hornblower, and never did he forget his duty. You have no cause to feel shame on his account, regardless of what official sources might say."
For a long time, Horatio's father sat silently. Bush thought perhaps he might have fallen asleep, he held himself so motionless. But finally, with a small clearing of his throat, as though he did not trust himself to talk straight away without this preparatory action, he said "I was not close to my son for many years, Mr. Bush. I fear we both were solitary men, and we let our reserve come between us. I consider myself fortunate that we eventually reached a closer understanding. If that had not happened, my burden now would be doubly hard. You have made it a little easier to bear."
"Your son fell in battle, Dr. Hornblower, as many courageous men have in this war. He was given all honor by those who knew him -- the men of the Renown. Remember him thus."
Bush stood, and once again took the doctor's hand in his own. "I have one question, though. Both you and your housekeeper seemed familiar with my name. Might I inquire how...."
"My son wrote a letter to me. Captain Pellew brought it with him. " Dr. Hornblower reached towards the small table where his half-empty glass of brandy sat. He retrieved a piece of folded paper and handed it to Bush.
Bush looked down at the letter. "Sir, this is your letter. I should not...."
The truth was -- Bush was afraid. Afraid he could not read the last words written by Horatio Hornblower, without reacting in some weak emotional manner. He had come to provide some solace for the Hornblower household, and for that he had needed strength. Now he feared that strength would not be enough.
Slowly he unfolded the paper and looked at the unfamiliar handwriting. Had he ever had occasion to peruse Hornblower's handwriting? If he had, the circumstance were unremarkable and he had not committed its idiosyncrasies to memory.
Dear Father:
With heavy heart, I am penning this letter to you, my dear father. The news accompanying this will inform you of my fate. You, sir, in the course of your ministering to the sick, have seen death many times, and though we might not have discussed the possibility, death hangs very closely over those entrusted with defending England at sea. I only regret the manner of my passing, as I would not wish it to bring shame and dishonor to you. It was never my intention to cause you grief,sir.
I have always endeavored to do my duty, and my ship Renown and her crew bested the Spanish enemy and made landfall in Kingston safe and I am content in that respect.. Some of my decisions were perhaps unwise, but at the time, I could not see my way clear to proceed in any other manner. I was always ready to answer for those actions.
I regret that I shall no longer serve with Lieutenants Kennedy and Bush. Mr. Kennedy had grown very well into his rank of Lieutenant, in no small measure due to the tender care he received at your hands. With great sadness, I must inform you that Mr. Kennedy died of wounds received aboard Renown. My acquaintance with Mr. Bush, our second Lieutenant, was of rather shorter duration, but he has shown himself to be a competent officer and a fine person, and I feel that, had more time been allotted to me, I would have found him a steadfast friend, as Mr. Kennedy has been to me.
It is the nature of the Service that its followers are absent from home for extensive periods of time. Think only that I am still serving at sea, Father. As you know, I have no faith that there is life after death, but neither do I now believe that I can know the opposite with certainty. Perhaps there is a place and time where my ship will make port once again and you and Mother will be waiting for me.
Your affectionate son,
Bush carefully refolded the letter and placed it back on the table within reach of Dr. Hornblower. What to say? He was afraid to say anything. Afraid Horatio's father might break down, but more afraid that he might do so also.
"You have been that, Mr. Bush."
"A steadfast friend. I thank you for troubling to bring me news of my son."
Breathe deeply, William. You can get through this. "I believe..." he groped for the words. "I believe that there *is* a place....."
"Where my son's ship makes port once again? For a long period of my life, I would not have agreed with you, Mr. Bush. But now? " Horatio's father glanced upward, and Bush followed his gaze. A portrait hung over the fireplace, a portrait of a woman "I do believe that Horatio's ship will come home, and both myself and my dear Louisa will be waiting."
The portrait held them motionless. Finally Bush broke the silence, as he remembered the small bundle in his pocket. "These belonged to Horatio. One of the men -- retrieved them and passed them on to me. " Carefully he unfolded the small scrap of fabric and laid the watch and the miniature on the table beside the letter.
The gratitude showing in the old man's eyes was more than Bush could bear. " I must be on my way now, sir..."
"Of course, Mr. Bush."
The housekeeper was summoned and showed him out.
"I wish ye all the best, Mr. Bush, " She said.
"Thank you, ma'am. I hope I have eased Dr. Hornblower's mind to some extent. "
"I know that ye have, Mr. Bush. It's not been easy -- " Mrs. Dabney paused for a second. "-- not been easy for either of us. But to think that two grand officers -- Captain Pellew and yourself, sir -- have come all the way to Waltham Chase -- well, sir, that speaks well of our poor dear Horatio, make no mistake!"
Bush nodded. What else could he say, for God's sake! It had not been easy for him, and he'd known the man for a few weeks only. He could not begin to comprehend the grief of these two -- Mrs. Dabney, who he suspected had been more of a mother to young Horatio, than merely the housekeeper in that small cottage. And frail Dr. Hornblower. A rift between the two, the Doctor had intimated. A rift mended. And now this.
Bush swung up on his horse and flicking the reins, rode away. The robin's egg blue spring sky had turned sullen whilst he had been inside the small cottage, and now a damp wind plucked at his uniform. Strange that the weather seemed in exact opposition to his mood. On the journey towards Waltham Chase, his thoughts had been dark; now, though the sky blackening minute by minute, he felt lighter than he had since that dreadful day back on Renown. Nothing he could say to Dr. Hornblower would ever bring his son back to him, but Bush was pleased that he had made the trip nonetheless. He had been able to do little enough for Renown's Third Lieutenant -- perhaps somehow the man -- wherever he might be now, if indeed he was anywhere at all -- would know that Bush had traveled these miles, to perhaps ease the burden on an old man.
His horse shied as the freshening wind picked up the dust of the roadway and hurled it skyward. A few heavy drops spotted Bush's jacket, then a few more, and almost instantly he was soaked, as the skies opened up. The pleasant temperature of the morning was now replaced by a much colder air, and he shivered slightly. This was a condition he was well used to -- being wet and cold.
Damn, but he missed the sea! Despite the debacle of Renown, despite the inexorableness of the Articles of War, despite a lingering memory of the sword scything through his midsection -- he missed the sea. How long would this peace last? He wasn't the only officer at loose ends in Portsmouth, and the general feeling amongst them was that the peace would NOT last. The devil of a thing to wish for the return of war, but the return of war was inevitable, and he supposed he might find himself back aboard a ship when that event occurred.
Well, he'd been changed -- he surely had. He'd seen the worst the Navy could do -- a mad Captain, a brave officer paying the price, but he'd also seen the best the Navy could be. Perhaps in his own future, he might remember that officer, remember what duty, bravery and loyalty truly could mean.
The rain pounded down even more heavily now; the dust of the roadside had turned into mud which sucked at his horse's hoofs, but Bush's heart soared. Whatever the future held for him, he would meet it firmly, and do his best. Command or death -- promotion or half-pay -- if he could meet his fate, however glorious or ignoble, one-half so well as Mr. Hornblower met his, or leave a memory in the mind of a simple seaman one-quarter as kind as the memories Matthews and so many others held of their departed comrade, then his life would be well lived.
Finally Portsmouth came into sight, and Bush deposited his poor, bedraggled mount at the Inn where the beast had been rented. Slipping an extra coin to the young lad who took the reins from his hand to ensure a good rub down and extra measure of oats for the trusty animal, he stepped once again into the pouring rain and walked the short distance to his lodgings.
"Mr. Bush, why ye're soaked to the skin, " his landlady tutted, as he stepped through the doorway. The room was warm, and he caught the scent of fresh bread baking.
"Maria, come take the gentleman's jacket, " Mrs. Mason called and Bush was only too pleased to surrender the sopping garment to the young woman who came forward. Yes, life could still be good.
The End
Author's note:
Of course I'm not the first one to kill Horatio! And I must thank the hhfic poster (I can't remember now who it was) who tossed off the notion that the events be rewritten so that both Archie and Horatio hang. As you can see, I wimped out on the hanging.
Captain Sir Thomas Williams actually existed and was Captain of Vanguard in the Caribbean at that time. He had been married to Jane Austen's cousin, who was killed in a riding accident (which seems to be a favorite method of naval fiction writers to rid themselves of unwanted female characters!) His enmity towards mutineers is entirely fictitious.
I've never been happy with the fact that Retribution has the Court Martial taking place on land with only three members on the board. But I wanted to change as little as possible, so I did not tamper with that. Removal of Pellew from the Board and prevention of Archie from testifying could very definitely have led to the conclusion I've presented.
Naval fiction writers have portrayed court martials in which the members of the court have gone into the proceedings with very fixed agendas which have nothing to do with determining the truth. I'm sure this was true of the time, as it is true of many court cases today. Unfortunately, with execution following so closely on condemnation in those days, there was no chance of an appeal. Byng's execution certainly fell into this category, as not too many years later his case was looked on in quite a different light.
I DO believe that Horatio *pushed* Captain Sawyer, in just the way presented here. Sawyer was already falling, and I think Horatio just helped him out a little. His refusing to answer Archie just before that final court scene very definitely shows he had something to hide.
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Sunday, July 31, 2011
Celebrate World Breastfeeding Week with NPN!
I’m celebrating World Breastfeeding Week with Natural Parents Network!
wbw-logo-wWorld Breastfeeding Week promotes breastfeeding awareness and education. The theme for 2011 is Breastfeeding: A 3D Experience.
From the official site:
Dr Sarah said...
Phew - after working on my post for the past ten days, I just made it with 39 minutes to spare! (Though the linky left the ap the apostrophe out of my title. Well, that's going to annoy me forever...)
Thanks for setting this up. I look forward to many interesting and happy hours reading the posts!
Dr Sarah said...
Sigh. Well, after all that work, something seriously weird is going on with the URL link and it won't show up. Aaarrrggggghhhh. It's showing up fine on my main blog page - don't know what's going on there. :-(
Lauren @ Hobo Mama said...
@Dr Sarah: I am so very impressed you made it in with 39 minutes to spare! The apostrophe thing annoys me, too — it does it on any title that has one. Oh, well! I tried out the URL, and you're right — I can read the post on your main page but can't get to the post page. Odd. :-/ I don't know enough about Typepad to give you any recommendations, but if you repost it and want me to edit the URL in the linky, I can do that — just let me know.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50589
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July 31, 2002
MEDIA CONTACT: Joanna Downer
PHONE: 410-614-5105
E-MAIL: [email protected]
Regulating Human X Chromosomes Doesn't Use Same Gene as in Mouse
A gene thought to keep a single X chromosome turned on in mice plays no such role in humans, Johns Hopkins researchers report in the August issue of the American Journal of Human Genetics.
The finding is likely to relegate the disproven gene to relative obscurity, at least in humans, says Barbara Migeon, M.D., of the McKusick-Nathans Institute of Genetic Medicine, whose laboratory found the human version of the gene in 2001. It also moves the search for the gene from the X chromosome to the 22 other types of chromosomes found in human cells, she adds.
In mammals, one of the two X chromosomes inherited by all females is turned off during development to prevent a dangerous double dose of proteins. A gene called Xist unquestionably turns off X chromosomes in mice, humans and other mammals. Because every cell needs one active X chromosome, Xist must be suppressed on one X in both females and males (which have an X and a Y chromosome). Which gene (or genes) does this is still in question, says Migeon.
In mice, researchers elsewhere pointed to the Tsix gene, because it suppressed Xist and was itself expressed only on the active X. However, studying cells from various human developmental stages, Migeon and her team discovered that human Tsix is expressed only on the inactive X chromosome, right alongside Xist. The two continue to be expressed together until after birth, when for reasons unknown Tsix gradually disappears.
"The difference is striking," says Migeon, also a professor of pediatrics. "In mice, researchers have suggested that Tsix was the gene in mammals that suppresses Xist and allows an X chromosome to remain active, but we've shown clearly that it does not do this in humans."
Migeon suggests instead that the mouse Tsix is involved in imprinting, a way cells determine which of two gene copies to use to make proteins that depends only on which parent the copy came from. In mice, X-inactivation in the placenta is imprinted -- the X from the mother is always "on." In other embryonic tissues, however, inactivation occurs randomly -- the X from either the mother or father could be on. In humans, X-inactivation is random for all tissues, including the placenta.
"Human and mouse Tsix are very different from one another," says Migeon. "Sequence differences and missing regions in human Tsix are a window on what's happening in the mouse and help explain why the gene doesn't have the same function in humans."
Much remains unknown about human Tsix, including what, if anything, it does in humans. However, Migeon will leave those mysteries for others to investigate, choosing instead to continue a 30-year quest to fully understand X-inactivation in human development.
"We expect to find a gene on one of the other chromosomes that turns off Xist in a random fashion," says Migeon. "It is difficult to envision how a gene on the X chromosome could, by itself, regulate the function of Xist on only one member of the X chromosome pair."
To track down Xist's true suppressor, Migeon and her colleagues are studying human cells with "trisomies" -- cells that have 23 pairs of chromosomes plus a third copy of one chromosome. In these cells, if the Xist-suppressing gene is on the chromosome with three copies, X-inactivation would be abnormal, Migeon says.
The studies were funded by the National Institutes of Health. Authors on the study are Migeon, Catherine Lee, Ashis Chowdhury and Heather Carpenter, all of Johns Hopkins.
On the Web:
-- JHMI --
Search Press Releases
News Media Home | Hopkins Medicine Home
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50620
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Tracy Kidder
The author of Strength in What Remains discusses his relationship with his most famous subject, Deogratias Niyizonkiza
In his latest nonfiction book Strength in What Remains, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Tracy Kidder chronicles the escape of Deogratias Niyizonkiza, a young man, from the war and genocide of Burundi to the safe haven of America. Once here, he goes from homelessness to college to medical school. Years later, Deogratias returns to his homeland and sets up a successful clinic and healthcare system. Kidder explores Deogratias's horrendous exposures to death and suffering without exploiting them. "I didn't want to wallow in it," Kidder says. "The more dramatic something is, the less dramatic I want my voice to be." Kidder will discuss his journey to Africa with Deogratias as part of Inprint's reading series. Afterward, he'll answer questions from poet and local journalist Michael Berryhill. 7:30 p.m. Alley Theatre, 615 Texas. For information, call 713-521-2026 or visit Free to $5.
Mon., March 22, 7:30 p.m., 2010
My Voice Nation Help
Houston Concert Tickets
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50631
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How-To Geek
WolframAlpha Can Now Do In-depth Analysis of Your Facebook Account
If you’re a big fan of WolframAlpha’s ability to crunch the numbers on just about anything–and we certainly are–you’ll likely be just as delighted as we were to watch it massage the data from your Facebook account. Find out your most liked, discussed, and shared posts, see your Facebook habits, and other neat trends.
I unleashed it on my account this morning, not sure what to expect from the results. Within the results tabulation WolframAlpha provided me with all sorts of neat data break downs. I now know exactly how many days it is to my next birthday, the composition of my aggregate posting habits (how many posts are status updates, links, or photos), the time of day when I do the most posting (and what the composition of those posts is), and my average post length. I also know my most liked post and my most commented on post.
It will even crunch the numbers on your network of friends (60.6% of my friends are married, for example). By far one of the more interesting data analysis it does on the friendship data, however, is organizing all your friends into relationship clusters so you can see who in your Facebook network is friends with other people in your Facebook network.
The service from WolframAlpha is free: simply visit the WolframAlpha search portal and type in “Facebook report” to start the process. You’ll be prompted to create a WolframAlpha account if you don’t have one and to authorize the WolframAlpha Facebook app to access your data. Your Facebook data is cached to your WolframAlpha account for one hour in order to crunch the numbers and display the results.
• Published 09/4/12
Comments (5)
1. r
2. Naman
Face-notebook. Book is old.
3. lu
“see your Facebook habits”, LOL. Mine are non-existent.
4. asd
What they do with your info?
5. r
They sell it to the highest bidder for profit….of course they don’t.
We all know that there is no profit in selling information.
Enter Your Email Here to Get Access for Free:
Go check your email!
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Re: [htdig] 3.1.5 update drama
Subject: Re: [htdig] 3.1.5 update drama
From: N Irons (
Date: Wed Mar 22 2000 - 11:14:03 PST
On 3/22/2000 at 6:59 PM, (Anthony Peacock)
> In these cases the next place to look for clues is the Web Server
> error log file. These usually contain the error message that you are
> looking for.
I was a little afraid of that.
I get access logs daily, but my hosting provider takes days to reply to
inquiries for other things. Any suggestions for other avenues I can
check while I'm waiting? Like a moron, I didn't save a copy of the old
binary, so my site's search capabilities are high and dry until this is
To unsubscribe from the htdig mailing list, send a message to
You will receive a message to confirm this.
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b28 : Wed Mar 22 2000 - 10:10:47 PST
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Alexandra Juhasz
Alexandra Juhasz
Posted: March 11, 2010 02:45 PM
Learning from HuffPost College
What's Your Reaction:
Let's imagine that you hadn't, or couldn't, or didn't want to go to college, but you went to HuffPost College instead. In a world where more and more people can't afford higher education but can access the internet, this thought-game is not as lame as it might first appear. Asking such a question makes people think about the structures, politics, economics, and methods of contemporary information delivery (and thus their own learning), in ways that might otherwise stay (intentionally) transparent. So, at least, was my thinking when I taught the course "Learning from YouTube," at Pitzer College in 2007 and 2008, chosen as one of the "Coolest College Courses" for a recent "Slide-Show" here, on HuffPost College.
Some of the lessons my students and I learned during our grueling education (it wasn't easy, even it it was funny) on and about YouTube concisely define the education one might get here, as well:
1) Learning by Slide-Show: the on-line space turns complicated things into what I have called "slogans," usually funny, bite-sized media-morsels organized around spectacle or other easily recognizable icons that are easy to get, quickly consumed, and immediate to forget. A college course takes hundreds of hours of class-time, uncountable hours dedicated to the reading and preparation of advanced materials, productive dialogue, hours of research, etc. To reduce something as rich as a class to its title, or a slide, is one of the dominant vernaculars of the internet, and while it may move information quickly, and efficiently, as well as producing a quick laugh, it loses the depth, complexity, and possibilities to build ideas that traditional learning (and longer-form writing) once allowed.
2) Learning by Corporation: Like YouTube, the HuffPost is corporate owned and ad-driven. Unlike most institutions of higher education it is a for-profit enterprise. What is on the page must be dictated by monetary imperative as well as open access: much on the HPCollege page is neither information nor blogging.
3) Learning by Edutainment: My class was included on this page as a joke (one I set in motion with its "cool" title, and happily play to), and while much on the page is "serious" journalism, as much is fun-and-forgettable stuff: gags, contests, button towards pseudo-participation... the page is brimming, busy, and (dis)organized around such gizmos and distractions, always leading you to search for more but not stay in place. In the college classroom we seek concentration, focus, and depth (by forcing you to stay in your seat!)
Of course, all on-line sites are unique (if linked), and each manifests its own strengths and liabilities for learning via its architecture, content, and protocols. Which is to say, if given the choice, I'd much rather go to HuffPost College over UTube: it allows for a multiplicity of opinions to be expressed in a variety of formats and in healthy conversation (long and short, expert and amateur); the comments are not quite as a short, stupid, or unproductive as those on YouTube; and the architecture provides better search tools so that one can actually find and re-find the information one seeks.
While I could say more (if I took longer to write this), blogs are best when they are topical and immediate. You can read more of my years of thinking and writing about YouTube, or watch my students' videos, or better yet (quickly!) respond in kind: producing the collaborative, interactive, lively, boundary-breaking possibilities where the internet beats out the college every time!
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Michael Zimmerman, Ph.D.
GET UPDATES FROM Michael Zimmerman, Ph.D.
Religion and Science: Respecting the Differences
Posted: 05/20/10 05:47 PM ET
Just so there's no confusion, I want to make my two main points right up front. First, I don't believe that religion and science must be in competition with one another. Second, those who disagree with my first point call me an "accommodationist," and while I don't particularly like the term, I am perfectly content to fall into that broad category.
Let me explain and provide some context. I'm an evolutionary biologist, and I believe that science is an incredibly powerful way of understanding the natural world. Unfortunately, we live in a society that is largely scientifically illiterate. By that I don't mean that most people don't understand the specifics of any particular science, which is unquestionably true, but rather that most people don't understand the nature of science. They are unable to distinguish between science and pseudoscience or, as I like to say, among science, nonscience, and nonsense. Collectively, we regularly suffer the consequences of scientific illiteracy, from poorly conceived public policies to atrocious educational practices.
Scientific investigation is a process that depends upon hypothesis testing and demands that scientific claims be offered in a manner that permits them to be falsified. Simply put, if you can't phrase your hypothesis in a falsifiable manner, it falls outside the bounds of science. Science is, therefore, one of the few fields of human endeavor that has opted to limit its own scope -- and it's that limitation that makes it so useful.
By defining its boundaries in this fashion, science isn't implying that any question or endeavor that falls outside its reach is unimportant. I doubt, for example, that many scientists would dismiss questions of aesthetics as being unimportant or uninteresting even while arguing that they are not amenable to scientific investigation.
Where does that leave religion? Well, it depends what you mean by religion. When religion (or more likely its fundamentalist adherents) begins to make claims in the complete absence of evidence and in a manner that is not falsifiable, and when those claims are passed off as scientific, the record must be set straight. Creationism, in all of its guises, including intelligent design, regularly makes claims of exactly this sort. Rather than addressing evidence, creationists simply make faith statements and expect that those faith statements be taught in science classes.
While none of us should hesitate to attack such activities, it's well worth pointing out that most mainstream religions don't do this. Consider, for example, the resolution overwhelmingly adopted by the United Methodist Church at its quadrennial conference in 2008: "Be it resolved that the General Conference of the United Methodist Church go on record as opposing the introduction of any faith-based theories such as Creationism or Intelligent Design into the science curriculum of our public schools."
And consider that The Christian Clergy Letter, a part of The Clergy Letter Project, signed by more than 12,500 Christian clergy members, says unequivocally, "We urge school board members to preserve the integrity of the science curriculum by affirming the teaching of the theory of evolution as a core component of human knowledge."
Let me repeat my main point here: these statements of support for evolution are from religious leaders. It's unlikely that you could find stronger testimonials from any other segment of our society. For those of us who care about science literacy and who recognize the centrality of evolution, it makes sense to celebrate rather than criticize the efforts religious leaders are making on this front.
There's very good reason to believe that the voices of clergy are particularly important on this issue if progress is going to be made in bringing a broader segment of the American public to an acceptance of evolution. A 2007 Pew Research Center report noted that "when asked what they would do if scientists were to disprove a particular religious belief, nearly two-thirds (64%) of people say they would continue to hold to what their religion teaches rather than accept the contrary scientific finding."
The fact is, though, that the teachings of most mainstream religions are consistent with evolution -- but the message has not yet reached congregants. There isn't any better way to improve the situation than to praise religious leaders who continue to speak out forcefully, and scientifically appropriately, on this topic.
Unfortunately, however, in some quarters, criticism has greatly outdistanced praise. (If you have any doubt about this, just read through the comments on almost any Huffington Post blog touching on creationism.) At times it appears that anyone who professes a belief in religion is assumed to be indistinguishable from a fundamentalist and is, therefore, assumed to be anti-science.
It is difficult for some to understand how an evolutionary worldview may be compatible with deeply held religious convictions. But this difficulty is no reason to attack those who manage to comfortably balance the two.
Many, many religious leaders understand that religion is not dependent upon a single interpretation of any text. Instead, the overwhelming majority of the religious leaders with whom I interact regularly believe that religion is about morality and spirituality rather than science. They want to make the world a better, a fairer and a more just place and they believe they can accomplish that within a spiritual community.
I respect those goals and, as I've said, I believe that religious leaders who understand the nature of science and are willing to speak out about it deserve to be praised. I have no problem being labeled an "accommodationist" for taking such a stand. I also have no problem arguing vehemently when anyone, religious or otherwise, crosses the line from science to nonsense.
Because the term "accommodationist" was coined by critics as an expletive (see, for example, a recent essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education and University of Chicago biologist Jerry Coyne's blog), it says more about their intolerance than it does about those of us who respect positions that fall outside the bounds of science.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/50657
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Category: Incest/Taboo Stories
Charlie's Triangle
by j_w©
Charlie was late. Already he received a phone call from Natalie. Damn that girl was insatiable. Ever since she went away to college she'd been tightening the invisible string she held around his dick. His wife was starting to get suspicious. The rain poured down over the windshield of his 1978 Mustang. Still in the original orange with racing stripe, Charlie sped down Lackawana Avenue. His pants grew tighter and tighter as he found himself pressing harder on the accelerator. Abstract, low-light flashes of Natalie beckoning him to her rose from the ground. Her D-size breasts bouncing imperceptibly as she reached for his cock and they fell on the bed. He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned on the air conditioning. The windshield began to fog and he cursed, changing the settings to clear his view.
Natalie's long brown hair curled away from her face as she slowly sucked his cock, gently licking the tip, his cum spurting onto her chin. He made a left onto Tremont. Goddamn, he thought, am I there yet?
Finally he pulled into the row of parking spots outside her dorm. Racing up the stairs he caught the door as two coeds exited. He preferred the stairs; the elevator would give him a coronary from waiting. Counting room numbers, as he strode the hallway of tope walls and ancient linoleum. The florescent light made everything grey and distant as he searched for his oasis. Suddenly there it was room two twenty-three.
He knocked.
The door opened. There stood his vision, Natalie. She wore a silk blouse, golden yellow, with no bra. The blouse tied into a sash at her hips, no slanted to one side by her stance. Her brown, flower-patterned skirt covered her knees, barely flirting.
"'Bout time." she said.
With one arm she grabbed his brown sweater and firmly pulled him inside. The hallway was deserted and he was thankful as backed him to the desk and wrapped her legs around him.
"Close the door." she commanded.
He hurriedly complied and scampered back to her. Without waiting she turned around, dropped her pink-rimmed panties to just above her ankles, and gripped the back edge of the light wood desk, hard.
"My roommate will be back in thirty minutes. I want you in my ass. Now!!" she whispered loudly.
Charlie could barely free his erection before it would rip through his pants. Soft light came through the ends of the blinds illuminating her soft ass, poised for his entry. Natalie's eyes were closed in anticipation. He pushed his pants down to his ankles and spit on his hand. Moistening his cock he thrust it into Natalie's ass. Her eyes went wide as he went to the hilt of his cock into her. Not stopping he withdrew and thrust again. The feeling was beyond anticipation. The tightness of her ass, the smell of her wet pussy rising off her. Her left hand reached low and grabbed his ass pulling it towards hers. He went wild, thrusting faster and faster, sending drips of her pussy flying everywhere. He latched his left hand onto her hip and pulled tighter. Feeling his bicep nearly rip from the motion he just wanted to make her scream and feel the same burn. His right hand came down and smacked Natalie's ass hard. She let out a growl and looked back at him.
She propped herself up. He was fucking her wildly and not stopping. Natalie panted as she let go of his ass, reaching back and grabbed his neck. Her fingers moved among the sweaty hairs at the base of his neck, scratching lightly. Her mouth and tongue reached for his and found them welcome. Charlie arched his back and kept fucking her.
"Rip my shirt open, Charlie." she said.
He obeyed. Ripping her shirt open to reveal her perfect breast with the monstrous areola. Natalie pinched her nipple.
"Cum, Charlie." she said.
"I'm going to cum in your ass, baby." he said.
"Oh yea. Fill up my ass. Fill, it, UP!!" she commanded.
Charlie couldn't hold it any longer. The tight grip she had on his cock was compounded as she stuck two fingers in her pussy. He could feel the wiggle, hear her breath quicken. The little noises she made got higher in pitch. He could see her moving frantically beneath him. His orgasm rose and he came in her ass. His cock pulsed over and over, taking in complete control over the situation.
"I'm cumming too!" she screamed.
Natalie's hand worked her pussy and it squirted onto his thighs. He'd long since stopped thrusting but she kept pushing against him, moving his cock, which was still hard, in and out of her. The energy in the air cleared and both realized the briefest silence that their needs were met and they shared a smile, touching foreheads.
She pieced her outfit back together and he buckled his pants. The smell of sex hung in the air and Natalie lit some incense that smelled like sweaty marijuana. Charlie recognized it as sage. Not a word was spoken; they just looked at each other.
"See ya around." he said.
"Yea. See ya." she replied.
"Have you talked to your sister?" he asked.
"Nope." she replied.
Charlie heard the door hiss then click as he left the room. Vicky, Natalie's sister, had been their housekeeper up until last month. Vicky was seven months pregnant and working her way through her third year of college. Charlie and his wife needed some light housework done and had hired Vicky. Even though Vicky would never discuss the father of her baby she did everything she was supposed to. That is until Natalie had caught her sister fucking Charlie, reverse cowgirl on the couch. Natalie only talked about it once. She came into the room of dark wood, floral-patterned drapes with matching couch and there was Vicky. It had been a sight, she later told Charlie. Her pregnant sister, milk-engorged breasts bouncing. Her swollen belly swallowing Charlie's huge eight-inch cock. Charlie had mistakenly thought they would be undisturbed and so they were fully unclothed. Afterwards it was decided that Vicky shouldn't work for Charlie and his wife any longer. Natalie's only condition was that Charlie "service" her as he had her sister. Charlie had agreed, but had kept one thing secret from the agreement - he kept fucking Vicky.
Fourteen thirty-five Maple Avenue was where Vicky had become a nanny to two small children. Fortunately for her, and Charlie, they were away in Switzerland for the summer. The family owned a two story colonial in Eastwick and everything in the house was white, to match the outside. Chandeliers, drapes, sconces, dishes, trim, even the dogs were white. The sun came out and the dogwood tree with its white blossoms shone brightly against the clear blue sky. He vaguely heard the automatic pool cleaning robot making small waves in the backyard. Charlie slowly clicked the latched. He knew the routine, which had been practiced for the last two months. Traveling the white carpet road up the stairs to the master bedroom, Charlie could smell Vicky's one habit - baby powder. She'd used it as a kind of magic dust to keep her baby safe. The scent of it was always with her and also prevented chafing.
He entered the white bedroom, with white comforter, dust ruffle and duvet. Dressers and tables of white wood had been strategically placed around the room. White-tipped, flame-shaped lights were off, sunshine pressing hard against white drapes demanding entrance. And there, laying, half-sunken in the white goose feathered bed spread was Vicky completely naked. Her belly more swollen than he had ever seen it. She held one hand to her labia, an egg vibrator delivering continuous pleasure. Charlie stopped at the edge of the bed and stood there silent. Vicky made the motion as another orgasm washed over her. Her eyes flickered impatiently and Charlie unzipped his pants. She licked her middle finger and ran it along his growing shaft. Just before putting it back in her mouth she stopped.
"Seen my sister today?" she asked.
"No." he replied.
Vicky licked her middle finger.
"Liar." she said.
He moved closer to her. Vicky shifted her position, craning her neck craning towards his dick, her mouth opening. She began to lick the tip of his cock. Vicky did not look like her sister. She was shorter, more petite, even though she was older. She dyed her hair blonde and had the perkiest little Double B-cup breasts. When she sucked his cock, her tits would conduct a symphony he often found his head following. Brought back to reality by Vicky nearly swallowing his penis whole, the girl had a way with oral, Charlie gasped. She was like a vacuum. Sucking and rolling her tongue around his shaft. Back and forth she'd pump her hand. It was as if she craved the length of his cock. She said to him once that the sensation of cum on her chin was something she couldn't help but want. That she must've had an overabundance of nerve endings in her chin because the sensation was unbelievable. He saw another orgasm ripple through her, compliments of the egg. She pounded on his cock now, cupped his balls and then let go entirely. Vicky then tickled just under his balls. Charlie was going to cum soon. He'd held off this long, but despite fucking her sister less than an hour ago, he felt that familiar fire in his balls building. She swirl her finger and sucked hard. She tried swallowing his penis whole, partially gagging herself and then licking underneath his shaft. The sensation was incredible.
"Ready?" he asked.
There was no reply as he shot his load down Vicky's throat. Thicker consistency and lesser amount, Charlie twitched three times before going soft. He attributed the amount to the finger she'd pushed up his ass at the last minute. Oh what a sensation.
"You're a nasty girl," he said.
"Why would you ever think that?" she asked.
Vicky smacked Charlie's soaked cocked against her cheek.
"Not sure," he replied.
"Ok. You can leave now. I'm going to stay here and have some fun. Sure you can stay for an encore?" she asked.
"Nope sorry. Wife is expecting me for dinner." He replied. Charlie felt several drops of cum drip off the end of his penis and run down his leg.
Charlie casually drove home. It had been a good day, he thought. He pulled into the driveway. The green garage door greeted him. Walking into the house, he announced himself, a smile in his voice.
"I'm in the sunroom," Doris replied.
"How was your day, dear?" he asked.
"Oh, not nearly as good as yours I imagine." She replied.
"Nothing special, eh?" he asked.
"Let me see it." she said.
Charlie's smile melted and then was resurrected as a smirk. He unbuckled his pants and let his cock, now deflated, tumble forth.
Doris looked at the cock and licked it in several places. First the tip, then the shaft and finally just underneath his sack.
"Saw the girls today, did you?" she asked.
"How can you always tell?" he asked.
"A mother knows her girls." She responded.
"But how?" he asked.
"I have to know these things. Ever since you knocked up Vicky, I've had to keep a closer eye on you. Thank goodness you and Natalie have been only doing anal. She's got a bright future ahead of her and doesn't need any detours. Now, are you going to come over here and share what the girls gave you?" she asked.
"You know it, baby." he replied.
Charlie was relieved. His wife was not in the least bit suspicious that he was knocking up their younger daughter, Natalie. That plan would have to wait, perhaps a few months after Vicky had her baby. He didn't want the girls getting jealous of each other. Besides, when Vicky had hers, Natalie would want one of her own. Charlie would give Doris everything she wanted and more. Details and some cum to go with it.
Written by: j_w
Please Rate This Submission:
Story Tags: father daughter incest, father daughter sex, pregnancy, coed, impregnation
Category: Incest/Taboo Stories
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Re: GPL violation? (Was: v1.6 Enhanced SNACC Freeware)
debacle@xxxxxxxxxx writes:
>[Resent mail, because I wasn't on the mailing lists.]
>On Fri, Nov 14, 2003 at 08:38:16PM +0000, W. Borgert wrote:
>> One question about the license: The original SNACC software
>> has been released by it's authors under the terms of the GNU
>> General Public License. I am not a lawyer, but if I
>> understand the GNU GPL correctly, you cannot change the
>> license or apply an arbitrary license to a GPL software, if
>> you are not the author/copyright holder. The GPL also
>> covers any new code by you, that is linked with SNACC
>> ("derived work"). How does your license relate to the GNU
>> GPL? Is the license change legally OK?
Wow, I hadn't realised that SNACC was released under the GPL.
eSNACC looks like a derivative work to me (IANAL).
So it looks to me like eSNACC violates the GPL.
This would be a great pity because I think the world needs
a decent ASN.1 environment that does not prohibit commercial
development, and eSNACC is definately getting there.
I note that a long while ago an annoucement was made that SNACC
was considered to be an orphan project and appeals were made
for someone to adopt SNACC. No-one did. Then sometime later
I found out about eSNACC which whilst clearly related to SNACC,
does not (AFAIK) consider itself to be adopting SNACC.
But I'm sure there is a lot of common code, and there's the original
SNACC manual.
I hope that eSNACC can continue, maybe under the LGPL.
After all, it seems to me that it is a bit like using GCC on a
commercial project. GCC makes special provision (IIRC) for
projects that compile with GCC such that they are not
considered to be deriative works. Maybe we need something
similar so that people can compile and parse ASN.1 without
their program being considered a derivate work. Then eSNACC
can safely be considered a derivate of SNACC without harm
because it won't stop people using it as one uses GCC.
The API could be considered to be on a par with using the
STL that comes with GCC.
Andrew Marlow
There is an emerald here the size of a plover's egg!
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Killer Whales – the tax implications of
As our informed readerbase will know, Killer whales (Orcinus orca ) are not fish. What then are the tax implications for ‘owners’ of killer whales – given that US tax law has specific regulations which differ considerably according to whether one owns a killer whale (a mammal), or a large fish, say a Great White shark (Carcharodon carcharias).
The position is clarified in this short video, where Professor Jeff H. Karlin, JD, LLM, from Golden Gate University, US, outlines the character of a Killer whale for tax porpoises:
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Episode I: A New Beginning
Andrew Raskin, an otherwise sane New York company man, chronicles why he has flung himself into the mad world of Silicon Valley start-ups.
In which an otherwise sane New York salaryman flings himself into the mad, mad world of Silicon Valley start-ups
I hail from a long line of entrepreneurs. Max Raskin, my great-grandfather, converted horse-drawn carriages into trucks by soldering them onto Model-T chassis in his Harlem garage. Grandpa Walter Raskin's patents for keeping ice-cream trucks cold were the foundation of a family-run factory in Brooklyn. And my dad left that business to become a real estate developer on Long Island. Conversations at family gatherings naturally gravitate toward those companies, which Grandpa refers to as "outfits," as in "We once did a deal with that outfit outta Pittsburgh" or "Hey, Andrew, what outfit are you with these days?" I hear that one every Thanksgiving.
Now I have my own outfit. It's called Gazooba, and yes, it's a venture-funded, dewily staffed, Silicon Valley-headquartered dot-com start-up with a business model -- "outsourced viral marketing" -- of unimpeachable buzzwordiness. Gazooba's been around for nine months; I've been around for 34 years, and this is the first time I've done anything like this. What I'm going through is (I think, I hope) both entertainingly unique and instructively universal. So I'd like to share my experiences with you in real time, or what passes for real time in print. I thought about doing it in Internet time, but that would mean writing about things before they actually happen, and my editors tell me that that really pisses off the fact checkers.
But first, some background. Before this whole entrepreneur thing started, I was a New York kinda guy with an apartment in Seinfeld Country and a technical job at a Web consulting company called Netyear Group. At Netyear I became chummy with this fellow, Zen (so named because he was born in Japan), and this other fellow, Shanti (so named because he was born in Berkeley). Zen and I, in particular, had a lot in common. We were the same age, worked on many of the same projects, and got hot and bothered at the thought of starting a company but never did anything about it. We were habitual -- and habitually restless -- salarymen.
In early 1998, Zen and I were traveling to Tokyo once a month, setting up Web sites for Netyear's big Japanese clients. We got to be really good at it, too: our rÉsumÉs include the first direct-sales Web site for automobiles in Japan and an intranet for a fast-food chain. Like everyone else in the industry, we whiled away a lot of airplane hours playing the "If we started an Internet company, what would it be?" game. We had as many ideas as we had frequent-flier miles, but we could never get past the Big Question: Without money for advertising, how would we get people to come to a site?
We were pondering just that question in September 1998 while relaxing beneath the windblown divi-divi trees in Aruba. Aruba's not an everyday destination for salarymen like us, but we'd gotten a bargain, thanks to a travel Web site that E-mails me updates on fares to Caribbean windsurfing spots. When New York-Aruba falls to $300, I'm there. Since Zen had wisely taken up the sport, I forwarded the E-mail to him.
As we lounged Zen commented that it was a good thing I'd sent him the note, since he probably would have hit the delete key without reading it if it had come unsolicited from the airline. All of a sudden, a couple of those cartoon lightbulbs switched on over our heads. Friends listen to friends, right? So, what if we built traffic to our Web site by getting visitors to refer their friends? What if we rewarded them for those referrals? Wouldn't that work for our company?
The drawback was that we didn't actually have a company. But then those cartoon lightbulbs burned brighter. What if we sold other people, people who did have companies, a rewards-for-referrals service that they could run on their Web sites? Thus did Gazooba burst forth upon the world.
The next month, Zen moved with his wife and four-year-old daughter to Silicon Valley to be closer to some of Netyear's subcontractors. But physical separation didn't stop us. We wrote a business plan together, communicating by bleeding-edge collaborative technology: the phone. We showed the plan to our boss, who granted us the time -- and the computers -- to develop a prototype under Netyear's auspices, the only condition being that he could invest. Because I needed help with the venture money, I next approached Shanti with an offer so tempting I knew he couldn't refuse it: "Hey, are you ready to throw away your career?" He was in.
My faith in Shanti's sophisticated fund-raising techniques turned out to be well placed. One December morning while I was visiting Netyear's West Coast office, Shanti came running through the room screaming, "We just had a real-time VC experience!" Shanti, it seemed, had E-mailed our business plan to a select group of investors he'd chosen from Vfinance.com, the unofficial venture-capital A-list. Which is to say he spammed the suckers. Five minutes after he hit "send," the phone rang: on the other end was a live venture capitalist. A few hours later, the live venture capitalist was sitting in Netyear's conference room listening to our pitch. "I think you guys are onto something," he said, and he headed back to Menlo Park.
It was encouraging, but talk is just that until the term sheet arrives. Term sheets are the much-coveted deal memos that VCs use to tell you that they're serious about investing, how much they're willing to put up, and how much of the company they want in return. As of January we still had no term sheet from the live VC, although negotiations continued. Then another VC called. This guy wasn't just live, he was someone whose name we actually recognized! This was getting cool.
The sorta famous VC got his own conference-room pitch, and at the end he said he was impressed. But not ready to invest. "You guys have a good team, but it's World War III out there," he said. "Draw me up a detailed execution plan, and tell me exactly what you're going to do with the money. Make an appointment with my secretary for next week and knock my socks off."
Exhilarated, Zen and I returned to New York to prepare for some serious sock knocking. The following Monday we were back in San Francisco in the reception area of the sorta famous VC. With its trendy furnishings and exposed brick, it looked like Hollywood's idea of a successful Silicon Valley investor's office, if, in fact, Silicon Valley investors ever showed up as characters in Hollywood movies.
The sorta famous VC appeared and invited us into the conference room. After we'd finished our pitch, he leaned back in his chair and carefully lifted both his legs onto the dull-metal conference table. The left foot was bare, liberated from the beige sock that the sorta famous VC held high in the air. The right foot, however, was still firmly ensconced in an expensive-looking black-leather loafer. His message was clear: we had knocked one sock off, but half the hosiery wouldn't cut it. We showed ourselves the door.
In April, after yet another reworking of the business plan, the live VC finally faxed a term sheet to my apartment. It wasn't to die for. The live VC -- along with some other investors he'd rounded up -- wanted more of the company than we wanted to surrender, and our options would vest according to the Valley-standard four-year schedule (to keep us honest). The investors also wanted me to be the CEO, because I have an M.B.A. and because they can't understand the Japanese-influenced English in Zen's E-mail. That meant I would have to move. To Silicon Valley. On that other coast. The West one.
My New York friends tried to console me, reminding me that I could always move back. "Manhattan isn't falling off the face of the Earth," a ski-house buddy said. No, I was. "It's going to be hell out there," I whined to Zen on the phone, "working 24 hours a day, beholden to a bunch of VCs."
"Yes," Zen replied. "And you'll love it."
He knows me too well. I took one last run around Central Park and booked my ticket to San Francisco.
Andrew Raskin is the cofounder and CEO of Gazooba Corp., headquartered in Redwood City, Calif.
Episode 1: A New Beginning
The Game of the Name
Take My Job Offer, Please. Pretty Please
There's No Such Thing as a Free Launch
Gimme Shelter
Bridge Financing over the River Scared
Let the Good Times Roll
There's a New Man in Town
I Really Must Be Going
Last updated: Jan 1, 2000
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Achor (āˈkôr) [key], in the Bible, valley where Achan was stoned.
More on Achor from Infoplease:
• Achor - Achor A′chor God of flies, worshipped by the Cyreneans, that they might not be annoyed with ...
• Joshua: 7 - But the children of Israel committed a trespass…
• Isaiah: 65 - I am sought of them that asked not for me; I am…
• Hosea: 2 - Say ye unto your brethren, Ammi; and to your…
• Beelzebub - Beelzebub God of flies, supposed to ward off flies from his votaries. One of the gods of the ...
See more Encyclopedia articles on: Biblical Proper Names
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Usedom (ōˈzədôm) [key] or Uznam ōzˈnäm, island, 164 sq mi (425 sq km), in the Baltic Sea. It is divided between Mecklenburg–West Pomerania state, Germany, and Poland. Usedom is separated from the mainland by Stettin Lagoon and from the neighboring island of Wolin by the Świna Channel. The chief towns are Świnioujście (Swinemünde) in the Polish section and Usedom in the German section. Peenemünde, in the German section, was the site of a German missile research and testing station in World War II. It is generally lowland, with forests and several lakes. Grain and potatoes are the principal agricultural products; the main sources of income are tourism and fishing.
More on Usedom from Infoplease:
• Świna - Świna Świna or Swine, channel, 13 mi (21 km) long, NW Poland, leading from the Zalew ...
• Świnoujście - Świnoujście Świnoujście , Ger. Swinemünde, town (1993 est. pop. ...
• Uznam - Uznam Uznam, island, Germany and Poland: see Usedom.
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RealTime IT News
PHP 5.5 to Include Open Source Zend Optimizer+ ?
PHP 5.5 is now in its development cycle, currently at the Alpha 4 release. According to the initial release roadmap for PHP 5.5, this is the point where the feature freeze was supposed to happen, but that's not necessarily going to happen, as at least one key feature may yet still land.
Zend co-founder Zeev Suraski has proposed that the Zend Optimizer+ Opscode cache be phpdirectly integrated into PHP 5.5. The TL;dr version is that the Opscode cache makes PHP run faster.
The idea of a PHP Opscode cache isn't a new one, Zend Optimizer has been around since 1998 (and I've personally been using it since then), and other options like APC are widely deployed on many live production sites.
Suraski argues that Optimizer+ has a consistent performance edge over APC. The general idea is that by including Optimozer+ by default as something that is fully integrated with the core of PHP, PHP as a whole will be faster by default.
As part of the push to include Optimizer+ into PHP 5.5, Zend has now also fully open sourced the code under the PHP license and publicly posted the project on github.
The impact of including Zend Optimizer+ in PHP 5.5 could be a two month delay in the final release. PHP 5.5 is currently roughly scheduled for general available in the first quarter of 2013.
"It should be noted that if we don’t integrate it in 5.5.0, based on the current timelines and versioning rules, the integration won’t happen before late 2014," Suraski warned.
Personally, I think this is a great idea…BUT it has to be implemented in a modular way (which of course it would right?) such that if a user still wanted to use another Opscode cache, they could.
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Indiana University Indiana University
Indiana University
Policies for Support Staff
Represented by CWA, Local 4730 at Bloomington and Northwest
Alternative Work Schedules
CWA 5.2
Revised January 7, 2010
Employees covered by this policy
A. Policy
1. Indiana University encourages operating units to accommodate the childcare, family care, and other personal needs of Support Staff employees by establishing alternative work schedules to the extent possible and consistent with the requirements of the operating unit.
1. Operating unit means any university administrative unit including departments, divisions of departments, or work locations that report to a supervisor.
2. Alternative work schedules refers to all university-approved practices that depart from the regularly scheduled Monday-Friday, 8 to 5, forty (40) hour workweek of the operating unit.
3. The workweek for all campuses and departments begins at 12:01 a.m. on Sunday and ends at 12:00 midnight on Saturday.
2. The decision to establish an alternative work schedule is the sole discretion of the university. It is not required that alternative work schedules be uniformly available to all positions in a department or operating unit. Not every function is conducive to such alternative scheduling because of the requirements of operating units. This should not deter supervisors from approving alternative work schedules for positions where such scheduling can be accommodated.
3. Alternative work schedules do not alter the responsibility and authority of department heads to establish and change work schedules. An operating unit that has established an alternative work schedule may discontinue, temporarily suspend, or alter the arrangement if work needs change or if service is impaired.
4. An alternative work schedule is a special arrangement and a privilege and is not subject to the grievance procedure but is subject to discussion under the "Fair Treatment in the Workplace" policy.
B. Types of alternative work schedules
For purposes of this policy the following types of alternative work schedules include but are not limited to the following:
1. Flexible schedule (often referred to as "flextime") means any supervisory-approved practice of permitting eligible employees to alter the standard hours on a daily basis. In such cases, operating units establish core hours when the employee must be present unless he or she is on an approved leave. In other words, employees approved for a flexible schedule may change their start and end times on a daily basis provided they work the established core hours.
2. Variable schedule refers to a fixed work schedule that deviates from the standard work schedule and is mutually agreeable to the employee and the supervisor. This may include an agreement to alter the lunch break from the standard one-hour lunch. Unlike the flexible schedule (described above), this does not include the employee option to change the agreed-upon daily start and end work time.
3. Alternate workweek schedule refers to a supervisory-approved practice that enables eligible employees to complete the basic work requirement of forty (40) hours per week in fewer or more than five (5) full workdays. The work schedule is standardized by mutual agreement of the employee and the supervisor.
Procedure 5.2 Requests for alternative work schedules
1. Any appointed Support Staff employee may request to work an alternative work schedule unless the employee's position is excluded either by the operating unit due to operating needs or by university policy.
2. When an employee desires a change in working hours, the employee will submit the request in writing to the supervisor.
3. The supervisor will make a reasonable effort to accommodate the request.
4. Requests based on needs related to childcare, family care or car pooling will be given primary consideration. Otherwise, the supervisor's estimation of the employee's ability to work independently and length of service will be the deciding factor.
5. At least annually-and after having worked the alternate schedule for a reasonable period of time-employees who work an alternative schedule will have an opportunity to request a change in their schedule. This includes an employee's request to return to the standard schedule.
6. The supervisor will review the alternative work schedules (1) at least annually to determine if such schedules still meet the criteria listed in paragraph C.2 below and (2) whenever the circumstances which led to the approval of an alternative work schedule change.
7. Instead of receiving individual employee requests for alternative work schedules, departments may establish plans for alternative work schedules for their units and notify employees of the options and procedures for working such schedules.
C. Criteria for approving alternative work schedules
1. It is permissible with a supervisor's approval for Support Staff employees to alter their work schedules.
2. When considering requests for changes in work schedules for Support Staff employees, supervisors must comply with Federal and State wage and labor laws, as well as the following conditions:
1. No alternative work schedule will be implemented that results in an employee working less than the position's budgeted FTE.
2. An employee should not be required to work more than six consecutive hours without a minimum of a one-half hour lunch period free from the job. By mutual agreement between the employee and the supervisor, an employee can work more than six consecutive hours without an unpaid lunch break of 30 minutes or more, either as an occasional adjustment to the work schedule or on a regular basis as an alternative or flexible work schedule. In these situations every effort should be made to provide the employee the fifteen minute rest periods as provided in the Work Schedules or Work Time policies.
3. Alternative work schedules must not interfere with the efficient operation of the university nor adversely affect the services that are provided to students, other operating units, or the public.
4. The quantity, quality, and timeliness of employee work must be maintained.
5. Adequate supervision and employee accountability must be maintained.
6. Alternative work schedules must not cause or contribute to the need for additional staff or overtime work.
7. Rest periods are a normal part of the work schedule. Time allowed for rest periods is not cumulative, and therefore is not a basis for an alternative work schedule.
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Last updated: 7 January 2010
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The values of Jaeger-LeCoultre
• Manufacture Jaeger-LeCoultre- values - Switzerland
Each of our employees shares the values of Jaeger-LeCoultre. These values are the fruit of the legacy and history of our Manufacture but also the reflection of our desire to evolve and to position ourselves as a leader in our market.
As a result, we attach particular importance to adhering to the following values:
Team spirit: Sharing our knowledge and uniting our ideas to build our success.
Responsibility: Respecting our commitments, our rules and our environment as a way of respecting people.
Communication: Conveying brand image and strengthening our reputation.
Invention: Inventing tomorrow's watchmaking heritage.
Quality: Extending our reach to nurture our reputation.
The implementation of these values is and must continue to be a daily practice. It is a fundamental pillar supporting the well being of our employees and it is apparent in simple gestures.
All our employees are accustomed to greeting each other when they cross paths in the Manufacture. We promote the use of public transport by our employees and each individual is involved in protecting our environment.
Each of our employees has the opportunity to contribute articles to TicTac, the in-house magazine of the Swiss watchmaker Jaeger-LeCoultre, created by and for our employees. In-house communication is also an essential aspect of life in the Manufacture and each employee can access to it via a number of screens with weekly news from Jaeger-LeCoultre.
The professional activities offered to employees and their families encourage team spirit.
Finally, at the end of the first year with the company, each employee takes part in our Values Seminar, to share his or her impressions and in this way, to contribute to the improvement of our work environment.
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james oberg logo
space shuttle
The Gemini 4 UFO
By James Oberg
[From quarterly magazine UFO REPORT (Fall 1981)]
Copyright 1981 James Oberg.
Many UFO researchers claim the object seen by astronaut James McDivitt is one of the best saucer sightings on record. Unfortunately, a close look at the evidence proves that just isn't so.
[image] What McDivitt might have seen: The beer can shaped Titan 11 stage at a distance. The infamous "tadpole" (upper right) could not have been taken looking into the glare of the sun since its background is too black. NOTE: This is a COMPOSITE illustration, using a cut-out of a ground photo of the Titan-2 second stage, and a typical Gemini window view. One still frame from the "tadpole" sequence is also in upper right.
Of the millions of UFO witnesses worldwide, probably the most reputable and respected are American astronauts. And of the dozens of reports associating astronauts with UFO encounters and photographs (most of which are exaggerated or entirely apocryphal), undoubtedly the best was the June 4, 1965 sighting reported by Maj. James McDivitt, command pilot of the two-man Gemini-4. His testimony baffled even the super-skeptical Condon Committee in 1969; a photograph from his flight has been widely hailed as one of the "best UFO photos ever made."
Yet McDivitt himself has never made much of his sighting, however often he has politely retold the tale to fascinated audiences and interviewers. He remains of the mind that he saw some unidentified but still man-made piece of orbital debris. There is no evidence anybody took the slightest official notice, nor is there any record that the astronaut ever filed a UFO report with Project Blue Book.
NASA has always insisted -- and this view has since been supported by research from UFO skeptics -- that there was nothing at all mysterious about the encounter and that the object was clearly terrestrial in origin (Soviet or American). McDivitt's own booster rocket has been tagged as the culprit in some studies. The famous photograph, meanwhile, has been dismissed by McDivitt and by other investigators as having no connection with the sighting, but as showing instead only one of many miscellaneous blobs of light which abounded in the actual flight film (because of its tailed oval form, the photo has been dubbed the "Tadpole").
For UFO advocates, the issue is more complex. Some have cautioned that the "astronaut UFO reports" are a product of UFO-media dramatization, distortion, and even fraud. "Serious UFO researchers never believed most of them", wrote UFO historian Dr. David Jacobs in 1978. Dr. J. Allen Hynek, "professor UFO" and Director of the privately-funded Center for UFO Studies (CUFOS) in Evanston, Illinois, repudiated an unresearched "case list" (assembled by UFO researcher George Fawcett) which had been included carelessly in his book Edge of Reality and told a Playboy interviewer in late 1977 that "I've been to Houston and seen the films, and I wasn't impressed." FATE associate editor Jerome Clark, professional UFO lecturer Stanton Friedman, and former NICAP director Stuart Nixon have voiced similar sentiments.
But other UFO promoters continue to accept the "true UFO" nature of the McDivitt encounter and champion its authenticity. It continues to reappear every year in new books, new magazine articles, and new tabloid sensations -- and most UFO buffs are probably quite impressed with the case.
The facts are plain. On June 3, 1965, Gemini-4 was launched into orbit 150 miles above the Earth's surface. Rookie astronauts McDivitt and White were headed for the USA's first long-duration flight, the first to attempt extensive visual observations and photography. On the second day, over Hawaii, the 35-year-old McDivitt reported seeing an object -- "like a beer can with an arm sticking out" -- which NASA officials later announced had been identified by Air Force space radars as the thousand-mile-distant Pegasus-2 (but that range was too great, it turned out, for McDivitt's object to have been the winged Pegasus satellite). Together with a mysterious "tadpole" photo, the McDivitt report has achieved UFO superstardom and has been firmly enshrined in UFO literature and lore.
McDivitt himself described his encounter many times. Here is how he summarized it on the Dick Cavett Show in November 1973 (as reported in FATE magazine, June 1974), "I was flying with Ed White. He was sleeping at the time so I don't have anybody to verify my story. We were drifting in space with the control engines shut down and all the instrumentation off (when) suddenly (an object) appeared in the window. It had a very definite shape -- a cylindrical object -- it was white -- it had a long arm that stuck out on the side. I don't know whether it was a very small object up close or a very large object a long ways away. There was nothing to judge by. I really don't know how big it was. We had two cameras that were just floating in the spacecraft at the time, so I grabbed one and took a picture of (the object) and grabbed the other and took a picture. Then I turned on the rocket control systems because I was afraid we might hit it. At the time we were drifting -- without checking I have no idea which way we were going -- but as we drifted up a little farther the sun shone on the window of the spacecraft. The windshield was dirty -- just like in an automobile, you can't see through it. So I had the rocket control engines going again and moved the spacecraft so that the window was in darkness again -- the object was gone. I called down later and told them what had happened and they went back and checked their records of other space debris that was flying around but we were never able to identify what it could have been. The film was sent back to NASA and reviewed by some NASA film technicians. One of them selected what he thought was what we talked about, at least before I had a chance to review it. It was not the picture -- it was a picture of a sun reflection on the window."
A good place to start a careful reexamination of the case is with the "professional debunkers" who were themselves stumped by the report -- and had the honesty to say so. In 1968, the Air Force seemed anxious to wash its hands of the UFO business and find justification for closing down "Project Blue Book." The University of Colorado was contracted to make a study of the whole UFO phenomenon under the direction of Professor Condon. Most ufologers regard the "Condon Report" as a whitewash of the Air Force's role and as a deliberate attempt to slant evidence to fit a preconceived conclusion. Yet the Condon Commitee endorsed the McDivitt UFO sighting.
Space scientist Dr. Franklin Roach found "visual sightings made by the astronauts while in orbit which, in the judgment of the writer [Roach], have not been adequately explained.... Unexplained sightings which have been gleaned from a great mass of reports are a challenge to the analyst. Especially puzzling is [McDivitt~s sighting] of an object showing details such as arms protruding from a body having a noticeable angular extension. If the NORAD [Air Force] listing of objects near the GT-4 spacecraft at the time of the sighting is complete as it presumably is, we shall have to find a rational explanation or, alternatively, keep it on our list of unidentifieds."
This conclusion is typical of the power of "astronaut UFO sightings." Here is one such UFO case certified by the anti-UFO Condon Report, commissioned by the U.S. Air Force to do all they could to debunk the UFO phenomenon. Needless to say, this endorsement was received with tremendous enthusiasm and little criticism or further research on the part of ufologers.
But since 1969, when the Condon Report was published, some new resources have become available concerning McDivitt's UFO. Furthermore, Dr. Roach himself put his finger on the key to his forced endorsement of the McDivitt case, with the words "if the NORAD listing . . . is complete."
One of the primary early objectives of the Gemini-4 flight was to practice rendezvous operations with the Titan-II second stage. The Gemini thrusted forward off the booster as soon as the spacecraft was put into orbit, but it quickly turned around and attempted to null out the velocity differences and make an approach to the spent rocket stage.
The attempt was soon concluded after the crew had used up a large fraction of the capsule's maneuvering fuel. The two spacecraft, however, were by that time in close parallel orbits, swinging first apart and then back together again in the course of each 90-minute revolution.
The attempt to rendezvous with the 27-foot-long, 10-foot-diameter, 6,000-pound stage highlighted difficulties in judging distances in space. McDivitt complained about not having proper equipment for judging range and range rate to a target: he was unable to do so by the naked eye alone: "I think that you can't tell distances from a single light," he concluded, proposing additional running lights for subsequent rendezvous targets. NASA concurred; it had estimated that McDivitt was consistently reporting he was five times closer to the stage than he really was -- possibly because of his excellent eyesight and his inexperience with visual targets of that shape and size. But that was the purpose of the flight: determine an astronaut's ability to "eyeball" other objects in space, and specify the kinds of equipment needed to do the job right.
The booster did not decay for at least 50 hours, according to tracking data later released by NORAD via the Goddard Space Flight Center. During that time it was close to the Gemini and then gradually pulled ahead of it on its decaying orbit. It was well within the 1,000 mile range specified by NORAD, yet it was not on the list of nearby satellites. Why not?
A reasonable hypothesis is that NASA had only asked about all other space objects, not specifying any debris associated with the Gemini itself. The NORAD computers would produce reports for only satellites launched before Gemini-4, ignoring any objects launched with it. Alternately, NORAD might not even have had accurate data on the booster, since most of its radars were in northern regions optimal for spotting Soviet space vehicles but beyond the range of American manned spacecraft. In 1965, NORAD had only one radar site which could have tracked satellites in the Gemini orbit.
An inquiry to the NORAD Directorate of Public Affairs did not produce a definitive solution. "Your comments on the NORAD role related to [Gemini 4] appear to be logical," replied NORAD Public Information Officer Del W. Kindschi, "but our space people tell me they no longer have copies of the messages that were sent to NASA Houston on the sightings," he added. How did McDivitt describe the UFO? His first report came in at Mission Elapsed Time (MET) 29 hours, 52 minuses, 17 seconds. Five minutes later he described it better. "It had big arms sticking out of it, it looked like. I only had it for a minute...."
On June 6th -- while the flight was still in progress -- ABC television science editor Jules Bergman reported that the UFO was really a secret U.S. military reconnaissance satellite. Bergman continued that space officials had been unable to identify it because the Department of Defense refused to admit the existence of such a satellite. But that story is implausible at best and, to my knowledge. has never been restated.
At a news conference on June 11th, McDivitt gave more details about the object: "Near Hawaii... I saw a white object and it looked like it was cylindrical and it looked to me like there was a white arm sticking out of it . . . It looked a lot like an upper stage of a booster." The astronaut gave few additional details when interviewed by Dr. Roach of the Condon Commitee in 1968: "McDivitt saw a cylindrical-shaped object with an antenna-like extension," Roach reported. "The appearance was something like the second phase [sic] of a Titan . . . It is McDivit's opinion that the object was probably some unmanned satellite."
[image]A Gemini in orbit. Note the straps and poles which frequently hang off the ends of the spacecraft and might be confused as "arms."
Years later, McDivitt became something of a celebrity to UFO groups with his short modest story of a space UFO. He recalled the event on television talk shows, radio interviews, and on a special long-playing UFO record. For example, on the NBC-TV show "The Unexplained," subtitled "The UFO Connection" (Feb. 21, 1976), McDivitt related that "I just happened to look out the window and there in front of me was an object which was cylindrical in shape and had a pole sticking out there. It would be about the same relative shape as a beer can with a pencil sticking out one corner of it."
Speaking to Houston Post space reporter Jim Maloney late in 1975, McDivitt had given new details: "I never made a big deal out of it. It was something I definitely couldn't identify. I reported it to the ground . . . Ed was asleep and we were rotating at a pretty high rate in drifting flight. The windows were dirty, I recall . . . All of a sudden there was this white object out there. It looked like a beer can with a pencil sticking out of it at an angle. It had a definite cylinder shape, about three times as long as its diameter." Maloney adds that the astronaut estimated that he got a 30-second look at the object. Furthermore, McDivitt said, the space agency made no attempt to prevent his telling his UFO story.
The Air Force wasn't interested, either: McDivitt never even filed a UFO report with Project Blue Book or anyone else.
NASA did not bother with the story, it seems, because nobody was particularly puzzled by the object. when queried by Congressman Robert Michel (himself queried by a constituent), NASA Assistant Administrator for Legislative Affairs, Richard L. Callaghan, replied that "We believe it to be a rocket tank or spent second stage of a rocket."
So far, the object looked just like the second stage of a rocket, even (in McDivitt's own words) a lot like the second stage of a Titan-ll. Why didn't McDivitt think it was his own booster rocket? Could he have seen his own booster and not recognized it?
The glare and contrasts of space can trick even an astronaut's eyesight, as illustrated by this sequence from the Gemini-4 voice tapes. Astronaut Edward White has just spotted an object out the window: "We've got an object out in front of us. It's not flashing like it's the booster. It appears that it's that type of an object unless it's picking up some glow from the sun. It appears a very bright, very bright object. (30-second pause) It was the booster. I can see the lights flashing on it now ... Just as it goes into darkness, the reflection of the sun on the booster causes a very bright image. That's the object I had seen earlier."
During the close maneuvers around the Titan-II upper stage, one of the astronauts made several shots with a movie camera. The photograph was later released by the NASA HQ Public Affairs Office (PAO) and was widely distributed. It showed a beer can shaped cylinder floating in space above a cloudy horizon.
During a 1975 interview between Philip Klass (Aviation Week and Space Technology) and Col. Bernard Szczutkowski (USAF-ret.) ot NORAD, Klass mentioned his interest in investigating and exposing UFO cases. Szczutkowski reached into his desk, pulled out a photo, and asked Klass: "Do you want to see a photo of McDivitt's UFO?" Klass quickly assented.
The NORAD officer handed Klass the PAO print of the Titan-II second stage. This, he told Klass, was what McDivitt had seen but was unable to identify. It was the Titan booster.
Klass obtained a copy of the photo from NORAD and sent it to McDivitt, asking if it did not closely correspond to his verbal description of the UFO he had seen. McDivitt replied:
"Thank you for sending me the slide of the Gemini-IV photograph. I very quickly identified the object in the photograph as the second stage of the Titan rocket which launched us . . . I am sure that this is not a photograph of the object which I described many times and which many people refer to as the Gemini IV UFO...."
The reasons which McDivitt gave for this certainty, however, were very revealing. It was not because the objects were shaped differently at all. Instead, McDivitt explained, "At the time I saw whatever that object was, the background was nothing but the black of deep space. There was not a horizon anywhere within my view." (Author's note: Roach described the field of view from a Gemini as follows: "The astronauts are able to see only . . . about three percent of the celestial sphere."
McDivitt's reply to my preliminary 1976 identification of his UFO with the Titan-II second stage was equally explicit: "The reason I did not assume that the object I saw was the upper stage of the Titan II was simple. During the first orbit of our mission my job was to fly formation with the upper stage of the rocket. This I attempted to do, and I spent approximately one-and-a-half to two hours looking at this upper stage from various angles and distances, and was quite familiar with its appearance. The object I saw later was indeed not the upper stage of the Titan II used in Gemini IV. It may have been a lot of other things, but it definitely was not that upper stage."
Keeping in mind that astronaut White, who had spent the same period watching the same booster, had already misidentified it at least once at a much closer range, let us take another look at the visual conditions under which McDivitt saw the object and consider if he might have made a mistake.
The smeared windows (White tried to clean them when he was outside the capsule but only made them worse) can certainly be a hindrance for visual identification of objects. Moreover, McDivitt described a point of view precisely the same as those which had fooled White: "My small end was up above the horizon so I couldn't see the horizon. As it came around towards the sun I saw the -- this other satellite, but then as the sun came in through the window I lost it because the sun was so bright." The CAPCOM asked for clarification, repeating, "Roger. You were looking into the sun, then, when you saw it?" McDivitt's reply was a single short phrase: "That's affirmative."
Was there anything which might have affected McDivitt's eyesight during this part of the flight? A space magazine reported two items of interest: "The 100 percent oxygen atmosphere created some red eyes during the first day or so of the flight..." Furthermore, "Operation of the waste collection systems was [sic] generally satisfactory, except for leakage of urine into the cabin . . . McDivitt at one point told the ground that 'I thought those fumes around 24 hours were bad. You ought to be up here now!' "
The pure oxygen irritated the astronauts' eyes after a day or so of exposure, and a subsequent mechanical failure made it worse. The spacecraft's breathing-oxygen tank overheated and threatened to pop its pressure relief valve, so Mission Control officials decided to vent the excess pressure through the cabin rather than risk the tank's unreachable valve from sticking open and draining everything -- the decision was made because the relief valve in the cabin could be manually closed by the astronauts in case of mechanical failure. To allow this procedure, the cabin air pressure had to rise to six pounds per square inch, significantly higher than the normal level which had already proved irritating to the crew's eyes. This buildup was initiated at Mission Elapsed Time 28 1/2 hours -- about an hour before McDivitt reported sighting his UFO.
Two months after the flight, NASA decided that another eye irritant had to be removed. "A blotting material to absorb excess moisture, which might have caused the eye and nose irritation of astronauts Edward White (L/Col., USAF) and James McDivitt (L/Col., . USAF) during the June 3 Gemini IV flight had been eliminated from the Gemini V spacecraft, NASA spokesmen said."
Did any of these three items really bother McDivitt and possibly adversely affect his eyesight? The following conversation took place after three days in space (at about Mission Elapsed Time 72 hours~ 43 minutes):
CAPCOM: Jim, the Flight Surgeon wonders if he can say anything about your eyes. Have you had any problems? Any drying or anything at all? McDivitt: Yes. Listen, I had a lot of trouble with my eyes at the end of the first day. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to hack it. But they have cleared up now.... CAPCOM: O.K. You don't have any problem at all now with them? McDivitt: No problem at all. Though I was really bad between about 18 hours and 36 hours. Readers note: As the transcripts show, the UFO was reported at 29 hours, 52 minutes.
During the 30 seconds or so that McDivitt had the object in sight, was he staring at it trying to identify it? By no means. He grabbed for two different cameras and exposed a few frames from each. The actual time he was watching the object cannot have been more than a few seconds.
One impression was that the object could have been on a collision course with the Gemini. This conclusion comes instinctively to a pilot when an object maintains a constant "angle off," not changing its relative position in his field of view. If the object crosses the field of view with any speed, it will not collide. Yet McDivitt recalled: "I was concerned that it was going to run into me." Roach interpreted further "The impression was not that the object was moving with the spacecraft but rather that it was closing in and that it was nearby. The reaction of the astronaut was that it might be necessary to take action to avoid collision." A pilot in the midst of a mid-air collision is also not going to pay much attention to the license number of the incoming object. Yet any satellite in a different orbit would have streaked by McDivitt's eyes in a matter of seconds, as was seen by other Gemini astronauts on other flights. On Gemini-11, for example, a near miss (less than 10 miles) with another satellite was seen by astronauts Conrad and Gordon, who never once suspected that a collision was imminent.
The "McDivitt UFO photo" -- the "tadpole" -- had a life entirely apart from the actual McDivitt UFO report. When pressed by newsmen for the photo which McDivitt had reportedly taken of the object, officials at the Public Affairs Office at NASA headquarters went through the flight film and selected a series of shots which they thought might have been the object. This was before McDivitt had a chance to review the film himself.
The original NASA caption on the photo (PAO 65-H-1013) was as follows: "This photograph . . . shows the satellite McDivitt observed on the 20th revolution i of his four-day space flight . . . he said the Gemini-4 spacecraft was turning and the sun was coming across the window when he filmed the object." Later, after consultation with the astronaut, NASA press officials changed the caption to read: "Astronaut James McDivitt photographed this sun flare through the spacecraft window.... McDivitt explained later after the flight that the sun was coming across the window as the spacecraft rolled, the sun rays struck a metal bolt, causing the flares in the camera lens."
This is hardly a useful photo to print. It is the kind that amateur photographers prefer to throw out. But under pressure from reporters who wanted to see "McDivitt's UFO," it was the best that NASA could come up with.
With just the photo and their imaginations, UFO writers soon integrated the blob into the "astronaut UFO mythology." For example, George Fawcett reported that "Jim McDivitt reported he photographed several . . strange objects, including . . . an egg-shaped UFO with some sort of 'exhaust'."
Once the Condon committee had endorsed McDivitt's UFO in 1969, the reputation of the photograph grew. Often reprinted in UFO books and magazines, it became an important piece of UFO evidence. In 1975, NICAP in Washington, D.C. selected it as one of the four best UFO photographs ever made. Their choice was based on a pencilled note on the back of their print, which reported that McDivitt had told someone that this showed his UFO. Nobody at NICAP could remember when or where. McDivitt, elsewhere, consistently claims just the opposite: the photo was selected before he could inspect the film, and it does not show his UFO.
There has been some controversy over what became of the shots McDivitt really had made. Some UFO promoters have implied -- or even stated explicitly -- that the actual films were squirreled away by NASA and that McDivitt was never allowed to see them. But McDivitt disagrees: "In those days we didn't number the film magazines, we couldn't go back and say which pack of film it was on. But I looked through each and every film that we had and it just didn't appear there at all. But there are a lot of photographs that are blank or overexposed or underexposed." Elsewhere, the astronaut had worded it this way: "I reviewed the file myself a week or so later, frame by frame, and there was never anything that I saw in the pictures that looked like what I saw in space. the cameras were not set properly or the lighting wasn't right or something." The report by Franklin Roach that an object had been spotted ("the quality of the image and of the blown-up point were such that the object was seen only 'hazily' against the sky -- but he feels that a positive identification has been made" is how the Condon report put it) is some sort of error, since neither Roach nor McDivitt believes it -- and nobody remembers writing it.
The two most outspoken advocates of the "true UFO" status for the McDivitt UFO are James Harder, an engineering professor at the University of California at Berkeley and the director of research for the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization (APRO), and his young associate Brad Sparks. The main pillar of their argument seems to be studies of the "tadpole" films and an uncritical acceptance of the Condon report's conclusions.
At a UFO conference in Chicago in June 1977, Harder showed slides of the "tadpole" and criticized the official explanation: "One of my misguided critics [this author!] claimed that McDivitt . . . caught a reflection off some special bolt." In a Playboy interview the following January, he was quoted as saying that "that sort of 'explanation' really shows how bankrupt the critics' arguments can get." Harder and Sparks had difficulty getting their own arguments straight: Sparks, in a special privately-circulated report (Refuting the Skeptics, 1977), wrote that the bolt "would have to be flat and mirrorlike"; Harder, speaking at the Chicago UFO conference, reported that "the bolt had to have a convex reflecting surface of a very special sort." And neither UFO expert addressed the fact that McDivitt himself -- not the UFO skeptics and critics -- had given that explanation for the "tadpole."
Harder seemed to have paid little attention to McDivitt's testimony anyhow, saying that "he reported what he saw as being a cylinder with an antenna protruding, and it was clear it was close by . . . and closing in" when McDivitt never said "antenna," said explicitly he couldn't tell how far away was, and ventured that he thought it might have been closing. Harder's justification for ignoring McDivitt's testimony is that "McDivitt's consciousness was somehow changed and his perceptions were not what he thought they were, which is not after all so uncommon with ordinary UFO witnesses." He elaborated with Playboy: "The UFO influenced McDivitt's perceptions," he suggested as one possibility.
Again, Harder and Sparks confused their signals. Sparks happily accepted the sun glare and eye irritation factors which reduced McDivitt's visual acuity "These poor viewing conditions reduce the importance of McDivitt's visual observations and post-flight recognition almost to irrelevance -- that leaves the film." Harder attributes the perceptual gap to the UFO alone: "Eye irritation? Nonsense," he told Playboy.
Although there has never been any evidence to tie the tadpole image to McDivitt's actual UFO encounter, Harder and Sparks have accepted the connection as implicit and unarguable and have run on from that point. Sparks described the UFO as "a bright white ellipse with a curved bluish streamer doing a wave-like motion in space," which was "in sharp focus on the film." Hence, wrote Sparks, "the Gemini-4 space UFO remains unexplained." Harder was even more confused -- and confusing: "The object [sic!] itself shows . . . to be an orangish oval, about three by five degrees in apparent size; the Titan booster stage would have had to be within 100 yards . . . to have appeared that big." But McDivitt refutes Harder: the tadpole never appeared to be that size because the astronaut never watched it -- it has no connection with the real object McDivitt watched. Harder is undaunted and describes motion in the image: "That bluish flare . . actually has a turbulence to it," he told the Chicago convention, "as you could expect a turbulent or plasma jet . . . This is one of the great unexplained pictures of the space program."
Harder rejects the booster explanation: "To have mistaken his own booster at 100 yards is something I just can't believe," he told the convention; to the Playboy interviewer, he asserted that such a suggestion was "an insult to McDivitt's intelligence and professional competence." But he fallaciously required the booster to be at the same range it would have had to have been in order to match the angular size of the tadpole, and McDivitt never said it had even come near to that size (in fact, McDivitt's testimony suggests that the angular size of his UFO was at least 10 times smaller, on the order of a 1/10th of a degree or less -- which could have been the booster about 10 miles away), far enough so as to be easily unrecognizable). So Harder's confusion led to a glaring fallacy in estimating the UFO's range and consequent ability of McDivitt to recognize it. But that's not the way Sparks describes the controversy of my published accounts of astronaut UFO sightings: "Oberg . . . has intentionally perpetrated an anti-UFO fraud on the unsuspecting public," he complained in 1977.
But who is perpetuating a fraud? Harder makes this kind of statement in Playboy: "Movies of a UFO were taken by astronaut James McDivitt. Yet his evidence, as far as we know, was never taken seriously by any government agency and is dismissed by professional skeptics." We've seen that this claim is false: the McDivitt movies do not show a UFO, and McDivitt himself is the first to say he doesn't think his "beer can" was likely to be any alien spaceship or similarly extraordinary phenomenon.
To be fair, Harder and Sparks are far from the worst offenders. Sensational UFO literature is full of tales loosely based on the McDivitt case, portraying both astronauts watching in fascination as their UFO fades away into thin air. In one account the UFO had just kidnapped an Air Force cargo plane over the Bermuda Triangle. Another version of the story has been immortalized in comic strip form.
Meanwhile, the Condon Committee investigator, Dr. Franklin Roach, has explained -- in correspondence with me in 1977 -- what he had meant by the phrase "a challenge to the analyst." He wrote, "I meant that someone with more knowledge or patience than I had should analyze what the report meant. My feeling was that the 'analyst' would probably come up with a very natural explanation....: Congratulations to you for following up and making the obvious identification as the Gemini "booster- rocket." Roach had never meant to endorse the UFO nature of the event in any case, but his letter clearly stated that he felt the McDivitt case was closed with the publication of my preliminary conclusions in 1976 (even though the conclusions had been a little hard on Roach himself for not following up leads that in hindsight were 'obvious').
Is any conclusion possible after so many years, when the supporting evidence has been trashed and the eyewitness testimony has become fossilized by countless repetitions? The principal leg of the Roach/Condon endorsement -- that there weren't any candidate objects within 1,000 miles -- has been demolished by the recognized presence of the beer can-shaped Titan-II stage. McDivitt, more than a decade after the fact, refused to believe he could have misidentified that object -- but both his degraded eyesight and different viewing angle at the time of the sighting eliminate any reliability from that claim -- and years of UFO research have taught us the surprising lesson that pilots are, in truth, among the poorest observers of UFOs because of their instinctive pattern of perceiving visual stimuli primarily in terms of threats to their own vehicles. Lastly, this coincidence must be considered: that Gemini-4 was the only one of 10 manned flights in which a rendezvous was attempted (and nearly accomplished) with a beer can-shaped target; and that Gemini-4 was the only flight on which a crewman reported seeing an unidentified beer can-shaped object. [Note added in 1995: Gemini-7 also performed that feat, and Gemini-7 also has a "bogey" UFO story associated with it!]
If the case cannot be closed for certain, it at least cannot any longer stand as a particularly valuable piece of UFO evidence. All it has really proved is how readily some UFO researchers can adopt -- and adapt -- useful material to "prove" whatever they originally intended to prove, evidence notwithstanding. The Gemini-4 case is not evidence for UFOs.
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RMI Interview Questions
1)Explain RMI Architecture? RMI uses a layered architecture, each of the layers could be enhanced or replaced without affecting the rest of the system. The details of layers can be summarised as follows: Application Layer: The client and server program Stub & Skeleton Layer: Intercepts method calls made by the client/redirects these calls to a […]
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Discreet Keyless Entry. The SimpliciKey Remote Control Electronic Deadbolt is designed to look just like a traditional mechanical lock (it even has a functional keyhole). But the locking mechanism can also be operated by clicking a key fob or punching a code into a keypad concealed beneath a sliding metal cover. Power comes from four AA batteries. The bolt is sold in brass, nickel, and bronze finishes and can be found online (with two key fobs) for $230. SimpliciKey, 703/904-5010,
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Thread: Arrays of Variable Length
1. #1
Junior Member
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Oct 2009
Arrays of Variable Length
I'm working on a port of Paul Bourke's Marching Cubes ... olygonise/
code to OpenCL, but I'm now wondering if I might be about to hit an insurmountable obstacle. The code requires an array or triangle vertices to be calculated, but this array will not be of a fixed length (it will vary according to the input, as the plan is to generate geometry slab-wise from pairs of z-axis slices through a 3D volume texture). Looking through the OpenCL Reference card, there don't seem to be any array-manipulation functions, and a quick search of this forum suggests arrays of variable length are not supported. Is this in fact the case, and if so, is there any workaround to get this to work?
Sorry if this is a stupid question.
2. #2
Senior Member
Join Date
Jul 2009
Northern Europe
Re: Arrays of Variable Length
Buffers' sizes are fixed at creation. To simulate a variable length array you need to create one at the maximum size and then pass in a variable that tells the kernel how much of it to use.
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October 24th, 2011
Kickette Catch Up: Your Weekend Gossip Cheat Sheet
Is it getting hot in here? Image Credit: Facebook.
- Sarah Brandner turned up the heat with her latest photo shoot for none other than GQ. We still kick ourselves for turning down their internship offer in order to party our uni days away.
- Can someone please enlighten us with their (or Emmanuel Frimpong’s) definition of DENCH?
- Our Malibu Barbie predictions may not have been far off after all.
YouTube Preview Image
- Leo Messi for Kentucky Fried Chicken. Just watch it.
Drug smuggling isn’t – and shouldn’t – be a footballer’s forte.
- As the boys from The Denim Kit pointed out to us, USMNT player, Herculez Gomez, is desperate to be outfitted by Armani. To answer his question, no we don’t have the hook up.
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18 Responses to “Kickette Catch Up: Your Weekend Gossip Cheat Sheet”
1. Encrypt Your Internet Connection – Prevent your Internet Service Supplier or hackers on wi-fi networks sniffing your internet browsing traffic
2. ZZZ says:
It seems the only people who complain about skinny and GORGEOUS girls "needing to eat more" are jealous chicks. She's absolutely stunning, definitely an 11. You know you'd give everything to be her, and if you say you wouldn't, you're just fooling yourself to help you sleep easier at night…
3. lone- Brazil says:
In Brazil it would not make any success, she has no hips or butt and even a bikini is hideous embarrassment in Copacabana! Someone give this woman something to eat, I think she is going to faint! SOS! Messi screwed with it!
4. Pique says:
The Photoshoot from Sarah is sooo old!
5. bri_saldana says:
WTF…..really though?!?
6. Brielle says:
She looks like Andrej Pejic :p KFC? Really? Do you know what they do to those chickens Messi???
7. Green 4 says:
That girl needs to eat ASAP.!!!!
8. [...] Kickette Catch Up (kickette.com) [...]
9. snježana pupovac says:
10. Natalie says:
What was Messi thinking?!?!?!?!!?
• simonaR says:
Messi isn't known for his deep thinking ways, don't you know?
But if I had to make a wild guess, it would porbably be something like this:
"Hmmm, they pay me good money for this commercial? Why not, let's do it!" :-)
Would be my wild guess, is what I'm saying
11. liz says:
Leo Messi in a KFC commercial? Definitely not DEEEEEENCH
12. Lucy says:
The second picture of Sara is definitely not sexy at all! give the woman some KFC please!
13. Sarah, Madrid says:
A football player promoting junk-food is for me wrong! I don't know, but it no difference than promorting a soft drink either!
14. Mariëlla says:
Terrible KFC commercial it's boring! And not even because Messi is in it.
15. ChefDi says:
oh no, Leo and KFC, I didn't believe it til I saw it with my own eyes. He looks yummy but ugh, with all due respect that chicken makes me sick :-(
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Comic Creator
Fred Othon Artistidès
(5 March 1931 - 2 April 2013, France) France
Philémon, by Fred
Philémon - Le Voyage de l'incrédule (1978)
Fred Artistidès, who published under his given name Fred, was a French artist of absurd and surrealistic comics, like his series 'Philémon'. Born in Paris into a family of Greek immigrants, he started making gags in French and foreign papers and magazines like Ici-Paris, France-Dimanche, Le Hérisson, The New Yorker and Punch in the 1950s. He is first comic was 'Journal de Bord', that was printed in Zéro magazine in 1954.
For Men Only, by Fred (1959)
For Men Only (1959)
In 1960, he became art director of Hara-Kiri, the satirical magazine for which Jean Giraud made his first work as Moebius. Fred himself illustrated covers, songs and tales for the magazine, but also comics like 'Les Petits Métiers', 'Le Manu'Manu', 'Tarsinge l'Homme Zan' and 'Petit Cirque'.
Le Petit Cirque by Fred
Le Petit Cirque (1973)
He made his first appearance in Pilote magazine in 1965, when he created his most famous comic, 'Philémon'. This surrealistic and psychedelic series is considered one of the most poetic and original in comics. Fred plays freely with the rules on the comics medium, experimenting with page lay-outs, panels and Deus ex-Machina devices.
Philémon by Fred
Philémon - Le Naufragé du "A" (1972)
'Philémon' appeared in Pilote and companion publications like the pocket books and Pilote & Charlie and was collected in book format by Dargaud until 1987. Dargaud also published several books with Fred's independent stories, such as 'Ça va, ça vient' (1977), 'Magic Palace Hôtel' (1978), 'Y a plus de saisons' (1978) and 'Le Manu Manu et autres histoires naturelles and sociales' (1979).
Y a plus de saisons by Fred
Le Poisson Rouge (Y a plus de saisons (1978)
Besides 'Philemon', Fred also made illustrations with "black humor" for Pilote, some of which were collected in the book 'Le Fond de l'Air... et Fred'. At the same time, he was a versatile writer for other artists, such as Jean-Claude Mézières, Loro, Georges Pichard, Hubuc, Mic Delinx and most notably Alexis, with whom he created the 'Timoléon' series between 1973 and 1975.
Philémon by Fred
Philémon - L'Île des brigadiers (1975)
In 1979, he had a brief appearance in Pif Gadget, with 'Cythère, l'Apprentie Sorcière'. In the 1980s, he turned to self-publishing as a member of the H.A. (Humoristes Associés), releasing 'Parade'. In the following years, he produced 'La Magique Lanterne Magique' for Les Imageries Pellerin and his adaptation of the diaries of French writer Jules Renard for Le Matin de Paris. Besides comics, Fred has written songs for singers like Jacques Dutronc ('Le fond de l'air est frais' in 1971), as well as scripts for films by Jacques Rouffio, Daniel Vigne, Gérard Zingg and Pierre-Henri Salfati in the early 1990s.
Corbac aux Baskets, by Fred
L'Histoire du corback aux baskets (1993)
After leaving comics, Fred suffered from a severe depression, which led to admission in a psychiatric hospital. Inspired by this experience, he released 'L'Histoire du corbac aux baskets', a book that won the Alph Art prize during the Angoulême comics festival of 1994. Next, he published 'L'Histoire du conteur électrique' and 'L'Histoire de la dernière image', as well as a collection of his best gags called 'Fredissimo'.
L'Histoire du Conteur Électrique
L'Histoire du conteur électrique (1995)
He lived in Puiseux-le-Hauberger and eventually settled in a retirement home in Domont. Several expositions of his work were held, and a retrospective book called 'Fred, L'Histoire d'un conteur éclectique' was published in 2011. During his career Fred has received various awards for his innovating work. After a period of declining health, a final 'Philémon' book was published in February 2013, 25 years after the last installment in the series. Fred Othon Aristidès passed away two months later, in April 2013.
Philémon by Fred
Philémon - Simbabbad de Batbad (1974)
Laatste update: 2013-04-03
Series en boeken door Fred op voorraad in de Lambiek Webshop:
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ScienceScience Now
10 amazing new species: See the Tinkerbell wasp and see-through snail
Top 10 new species include a wasp named after Tinker Bell and an anemone living on a glacier.
18,000 new species were discovered in 2013. Here are the 10 coolest.
The top 10 new species of 2014 includes a see-through snail, a teeny tiny wasp with fairy wings, and an anenome that lives on the underside of a glacier -- all of which are brand-new to science.
The list was put together by the SUNY College of Enviornmental Science and Forestry's International Institute for Species Exploration. Since 2008 the institute has worked with a consortium of taxonomists and experts around the world to select the most intriguing species discoveries for each previous calendar year.
This year's selections run the gamut from a 40-foot-tall tree that was hiding in plain sight in Thai forests to microscopic microbes discovered in so-called clean rooms where spacecraft are built. There's even a new mammal, the olinguito, from the cloud forests in Colombia and Ecuador.
"One of the most inspiring facts about the top 10 species of 2014 is that not all of the 'big' species are already known or documented," said Antonio Valdecassas, chairman of the selection committee and a biologist with the Museo Nacional de Ciencias Naturales in Madrid, in a statement. "One species of mammal and one tree confirm that the species waiting to be discovered are not only on the microscopic scale."
And in case you think we are closing in on finding all the species on Earth -- we are not. According to a release from the publishers of the list, there are still 10 million species awaiting discovery. That's 5 times the number that are already known to science.
And now -- the top 10!
1. Bassaricyon neblina, a.k.a. olinguito: This 4.5-pound cutie was found living in the trees in the cloud forests of Andes mountains. It was the first carnivorous mammal discovered in the Western hemisphere in 35 years. (More about the olinguito).
2. Dracaena kaweesakii, a.k.a. Kaweesak's dragon tree: A 40-foot-tall tree with soft-sword shaped leaves and cream-colored flowers that grows in the limestone mountains of the Loei and Lopburi provinces of Thailand.
3. Edwardsiella andrillae, a.k.a. ANDRILL anemone: The first species of anemone reported to live on ice! It was found living under a glacier on the Ross Ice Shelf in Antarctica.
4. Liropus minusculus, a.k.a. skeleton shrimp: A tiny translucent shrimp just 1/8th of an inch in length. It was discovered in a cave on Santa Catalina Island off the coast of Southern California.
5. Penicillium vanoranjei, a.k.a. Orange penicillium: A bright orange fungus found in soil from Tunisia.
6. Saltuarius eximius, a.k.a. leaf-tailed gecko: A mottled gecko with a wide leaf-shaped tail that helps it camouflage, discovered in the mountains of northeastern Australia. (More about the bizarre leaf-tailed gecko).
7. Spiculosiphon oceana: A one-celled organism that grows up to 2 inches long in the Mediterranean Sea. It constructs a shell out of dead sponge fragments found on the sea floor.
8. Tersicoccus phoenicis: A microbial species collected in two separate clean rooms where spacecraft are built, thousands miles apart, that is resistant to frequent sterilization.
9. Tinkerbella nana, a.k.a. Tinkerbell fairyfly: A teeny tiny wasp named for Peter Pan's fairy friend is just 0.00984 inches long -- one of the smallest insects ever discovered. It was found in Costa Rica.
10. Zospeum tholussum, a.k.a. domed snail: A translucent snail discovered in a Croatian cave system that goes nearly half a mile underground. (More about the translucent snail).
Copyright © 2014, Los Angeles Times
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51040
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Collateral attack
Attack on a prior judgment in a new case (i.e., not by direct appeal). Also called an indirect attack. Examples include habeas corpus petitions and claims that a prior judgment was invalid after the opposing party cites it for strategic advantage in a new case.
For a habeas corpus case, see Miller-El v. Dretke 545 U.S. 231 (2005).
For how prior judgments can affect a new case, see res judicata and collateral estoppel.
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§53-4-3. Bond may be required of petitioner.
The court or judge granting the writ may previously require bond with security in a reasonable penalty, payable to the person to whom the writ is directed, with condition that the petitioner will not escape by the way, and for the payment of such costs and charges as may be awarded against him. It shall be filed with the other proceedings on the writ and may be sued on for the benefit of any person injured by the breach of its condition.
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Levitra samples, levitra trial offer, levitra sample pack - Discount Drugs
Accueil > Actualités > Levitra sample pack, levitra sample, levitra trial offer
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UC Berkeley Library > Library Collections > Collection Descriptions > History of Science and Technology
History of Science and Technology
Contact: Jennifer Dorner
Scope of Collection
The history of science collection covers primarily 18th-21st century materials from the US, UK and Europe and serves fraculty primarily affilitated with the History Department.
Special Collections
The Bancroft Library: History of Science and Technology collection.
Primary Languages and Formats
Most Western languages, primarily English, French and German
Monographs and journal subscriptions
Related Collections
All science libraries, and a few social science libraries are part of this collection, in particular the History of Medicine collection at the Public Health Library. The subject is not location specific.
Library homeSearchUC Berkeley home
Copyright © 2012
The Regents of the University of California. All rights reserved.
Last updated 08/29/13. Comments?
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Searching by subject - creating a search strategy
To get the best results from a search you will need to look closely at your question.
Sample Question: What are the economic arguments for and against population based screening for colorectal cancer.
Some questions you need to ask yourself include:
1. What are the main concepts or facets of the question? colorectal cancer, population based screening and economics
How do the concepts or facets relate?
How will you combine your terms?
All facets must be discussed:
colorectal cancer AND population based screening AND economics
3. How much and what kind of information do you need? For this tutorial we will look at the following options:
• A few relevant references (20-50)
• A more comprehensive search
Time to practice! The next part of the tutorial is divided into 2 sides:
Left side Right side
Shows instructions Opens an Ovid Medline screen where you can practice, following the instructions on the left side
Start Next
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51117
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Virtual box localhost access
view story
http://serverfault.com – Question on Virtual Box 4.1.8 So, i have Ubuntu 10.10 as host machine and Windows Xp as guest machine. On host machine there is tomcat with web app running on port 8888. When i am in guest machine i type in browser: and it works. But my Something.html has links to javascript like src="http://localhost:8888/webApp/someScript.js and they obviously aren't working(because of "localhost" part). The other problem is that i don't want to use relative path now, only absolute. Also i don't want to change localhost to Host Ip in my links Maybe there is some solution, ()
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Setting Up Virtual Security Zones in a Linux Cluster
The Distributed Security Infrastructure lets you create disjoint virtual security zones on a physical Linux cluster.
An increasing number of projects use Linux and other open-source software as basic building blocks to create clusters. Examples range from clusters that perform massive computations of visual effects for movies to clusters used as next-generation telecommunication servers.
More and more often, various issues, including economics, management and flexibility, require applications to run on the same physical cluster. An illustration of this situation in the telecom world is carrier-grade clustered servers shared among different operators. The operators share the global infrastructure of the cluster and provide different services to their clients but want to keep their binaries and data private. In such cases, cluster administrators do not have access to the source code for these applications, and security mechanisms cannot be enforced at the source code level. Hence, a security infrastructure is needed to ensure that a given application's resources cannot be tampered with or used by other entities on the cluster.
The Distributed Security Infrastructure (DSI) provides a solution for such a situation. It attempts to build a coherent security framework dedicated to carrier-grade Linux clusters by dividing a cluster into several virtual subclusters, guaranteeing controlled/restricted connections between them. Even though the project is only in its second year of design and development, we believe DSI is a useful tool for cluster administrators. This article presents how to use DSI to set virtual security zones inside a Linux cluster.
DSI Architecture and DSI Tools
In this section, we briefly introduce DSI's architecture. DSI is composed of one security server (SS) and multiple security managers (SMs), one per node (Figure 1). The SS centralizes management of the cluster: it gathers alarms and warnings sent by SMs and propagates a unique security policy over the cluster. On the other hand, SMs are responsible for enforcing security on their own nodes. Furthermore, messages are exchanged between the SS and SMs over encrypted and authenticated channels, using SSL/TLS over CORBA event channels.
Figure 1. The DSI Architecture
Security mechanisms in DSI are implemented at the process level to check the access privileges a process has to a resource. Each process is identified by its security context identifier (ScID) and the node identification on which it is running (SnID).
SnIDs are assigned using the DSI SetNodeID tool. All processes sharing the same security context are assigned the same ScID. ScIDs can be assigned automatically by the system according to DSP rules (see below), or they can be assigned specifically to a given binary using the DSI SetSID tool. This allows grouping of binaries according to their security contexts.
The DSP Configuration File
In DSI, writing a security policy for the cluster consists of granting or denying permissions to a given SnID and ScID pair. These rules are valid for the whole cluster. All rules are centralized in an XML file on the SS to ease management.
DSI provides a way to update and enforce transparently and automatically a unique homogeneous view of the whole cluster's security. Once the administrator modifies existing rules or adds a new rule to the distributed security policy (DSP), the DSP must be loaded on the SS using the dsiUpdatePolicy tool. Then, dsiUpdatePolicy checks the DSP file against our DSP XML schema (syntactical checks). If the DSP is validated, the SS propagates the new rules to all nodes of the cluster using the secure communication channels. Finally, each SM enforces the rules at kernel level calling the distributed security module (DSM, see Figure 2). DSM is based on the LSM kernel patch. Its detailed description is beyond the scope of this article; see the on-line Resources section for links to more information.
Figure 2. DSP Propagation inside the Cluster
Distributed Access Control
Controlling access to local resources is rather simple: the DSM module retrieves the local ScID and SnID of the requesting process and checks corresponding permissions in the security rules. Actually, the originality of DSI lies in distributed access control. Currently, only socket communications are implemented. To illustrate this, we detail the access control mechanisms when a process tries to access a resource located on another node (Figure 3):
• The access request first is intercepted by the local DSM, which checks that the process has the privilege to call locally the socket-related systems calls.
• Then, the ScID and SnID of the requesting process are added by DSM to each IP packet sent to the remote node.
• On the receiving node, the remote DSM uses the ScID and SnID of the requesting process, extracted from the IP packet, to check its permission to communicate with both the target socket and the process to which the target socket belongs.
• Finally, the remote DSM locally checks that the process to which the target socket belongs may receive information from the requesting process.
Figure 3. Secure Remote Access Control
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Advanced Access Control with the Trustees Project
Features The Linux Trustees Project is an effort to create improved access control and advanced file permission management similar to other operating systems.
Recently I had an opportunity to speak with Slava Zavadsky and ask him a few questions about his work on the Linux Trustees Project , an effort to create improved access control and advanced file permission management similar to other operating systems. Can you offer a brief description of your background? How long have you been working on security? Have you always been involved in programming? Where are you from?
Slava Zavadsky: I came from Belarus, a small ex-USSR state. My background is a combination of different fields, and I've always shared ideas between fields. Until recently, I was actively involved in mathematical research. My primary interest was applications of wavelets to image processing and compression, and I believe that I spent about 30% of my time for mathematics.
Another my field of interest is IT (I mean deployment and maintenance of networks, software, and hardware in organizations). When I left Belarus, I was employed for MZOR - a large production (about 1000 workers) and engineering (about 300 engineers) corporation. My occupation was like CIO, but involves also a lot of technical, not administrative tasks. Another 30% of my time was spent developing the Trustees project, which came as a feature that we need to deploy a couple of working Linux servers at MZOR.
And, surely, software architecture and development, which give us a lot of fun and experience that is very mandatory in IT.
I was involved in programming since high school, and make my first payed project in the college (it was a cross assembling enviroment for developing embedded systems on PC).
I can not say how much time I was involved in security. Security does not exists itself. It is a part of network and software engineering, and one should always evaluate the project from the security viewpoint since the very early stages, and make sure that security assumptions still have the project usefull for users. It is simple a bunch of experience. I can not imagine a security specialist that can not deploy a network or write a CGI application. Can you describe the Linux Trustees Project? What is the goal/objective of the project?
Slava Zavadsky: Linux Trustees project borrows "trustee" idea from Novel's Netware OS. A trustee is object that give a given group or user access to a complete directory tree, not just a single file. In my own experience, the typical task that a file system administrator has is "to have a directory that some users R/W access, some R/O, others - nothing".
It can be done via a single click of mouse using Netware Administrator, but it is still complex in all other OSs.
In my understanding and experience, the standard Unix and Linux file permission model simple does not allow to have 2 different groups have different (say, R/O & R/W) access for a single file. In UNIX you just have owner, owner's group, and "others" permission, that give you no flexibility to manage access on per group basis. This problem is in certain degree resolved by different implementations of POSIX ACLs. ACL is basically a list of "access control records" each of them allows access to given file to a given user or group. The problem is that ACLs are affective on per file basis (in NT there are default ACLs that copied to new files that created in directory), that makes administration quite a complex. Moreover, millions of ACL required to implement a single security policy is a potential security risk, because it is not easy to verify them even if the tools are provided.
So, the goal of trustee's project is to have in Linux a convenient file permission management system that borrow the best from commercial (or even military) grade OS. Can you give a few examples of Access Control Lists here? What would it consist of? Can you describe the concept of ACLs?
Slava Zavadsky: ACL is a list of objects. Each of them grant permission for file to given user or group. There are default ACLs, that exist in directory and used as templete for new files. One can manage ACL either using a GUI in Windows NT, or using a command like:
setfacl -m u:lisa:+w file
This adds write access to the permissions of a user ACL that is not a part of standard Linux kernel. The patch for them can be found at How was it started?
Slava Zavadsky: I was employed in large company as a lead IT engineer, and my main duty was to have working about dozen of different servers. I finally found that it is simple impossible to have the same level of convenience that I used on Netware with Samba. I borrowed some ideas from ACLs, Novell, and Java Security workflow, and decided to implement model on a kernel level keeping all the stuff as much transparent as I can for applications.
It took about 2 weeks of my spare time to have first production Samba server working. What typical uses are there for this software?
Slava Zavadsky: Systems administrators that use Linux as file keeping facility (e.g., using Samba) It would be great to know more here. How does having more control over ownership of files map to improvements the windows client user would see?
Slava Zavadsky: The main (and probably only improvement) is access to directory despite of owner and permission mask of files. So, if administrator decided that somebody should (or should not) have access to file, he will see it despite of permission mask or ownership that set by unskiled user. Samba itself allows some control of access and permission mask of new files, but it is very limited and only on per share basis (it means for users that they should map a different disk for each directory with different permission. What are the most difficult challenges you faced while developing it?
Slava Zavadsky: First of all, kernel's internals. They are complex, moreover, they are constantly changed, so, it is require some time to keep the project up to date.
Another problem is misunderstandings with adepts of pure Unix. Most administrators that use trustees are very happy with the software, and I receive at least one "thank you" e-mail per day, but my attempts to have it integrated to kernel or just reserve syscall numbers was answered "That is not standard. We would rather have you implement POSIX ACLs". Why not just implem ent POSIX ACLs, then? How does it differ? How is your method better?
Slava Zavadsky: There are some technical differences, e.g. trustees allow you to deny a privilege, and no access is granted if such a denial is exists (borrowed from Java Security Framework). But the main difference is that trustee is a single object that implements a security policy for a very large set of files (a complete subdirectory tree), so just a couple of trustees is required where thousands of ACL is needed. Just to make everything clear - this permission can be cleared, modified or denied by another trustee object that lives deeper in directory tree.
Another difference is that ACLs (the implementation done by my friend Andreas Grunbacher) are depends on ext2 filesystem, while trustees is just a single file that loaded into kernel memory. The first approach is more nice and natuaral, but it requires different tar, different gzip etc. My approach is more transparent for everything, and actual size of conf file is less than 1k even for large systems. What new features are you working on?
Slava Zavadsky: I just finished a 2.x version of trustees that limit power of trustee to a filesystem (the tustee has no effect across mountpoint). There are some disadvantages here, but it will allow a more consistent and secure view, and it is in accordance with changes of VFS made in 2.4.x kernels.
I am thinking of:
• GUI for administration
• Storage of trustees in ext2/ext3
• Integration with capabilities
And time to implement all of these.
features are you working on?
I am thinking of:
• GUI for administration
• Storage of trustees in ext2/ext3
• Integration with capabilities
And time to implement all of these. That's for sure! Can you describe capabilities? How do they work together? I thought capabilities were already a form of ACLs?
Slava Zavadsky: In my understanding, capabilities is a method to grant/deny given "superuser" feauture for given process. E.g. ping is a set UID program, but it is actually required just an access to raw sockets. I believe that integration of filesystem ACL with capabilities can pay off. What do you think are the biggest secuirity concerns with using Linux today?
Slava Zavadsky: The qualifications of the average administrator. As with all powerful systems, Linux has a lot of potential and real holes. I suggest that the Linux community should finally establish several standard (may be automatically upgradeble) server distributions.
Current distributions are too hard and too complex to manage, and require about 2 days of a very skilled work to install working and secure Internet server.
It is better than NT, anyway. Security is always about tradeoffs. What tradeoffs do you face while developing the trustees project?
Slava Zavadsky: Nothing. Really. The administration and tuning overhead, no? Process of maintaining permissions with chmod and the trustees files?
Slava Zavadsky: The main overhead was creation for software, especially R&D phase. After I have it worked, it just save me from chmods. What would you like to let the Linux security community know about your project?
Slava Zavadsky: If you have some multiuser access on your server, try trustees. They may save you a lot of working hours. Let me give an example of configuration file:
# Grant to the group R/W access for directory
# Grant the httpd daemon right to read files
[/dev/hda2]/httpd/htdocs:httpd:REBX How would you add to this to give the administrator the ability to read/modify those files as well? Would you have to include the process the administrator is running? How do you protect this file itself from an intruder modifying directly?
Slava Zavadsky: If administrator is root, the access is granted automatically. If he prefers to work under ordinary UID, just add him to web_editors.
The trustee affects all the processes that runs on the system. httpd in the example above means UID, not process name. The only headache is with "too wise" daemons, like run under root UID and calculates permission theirself (.e.g mars-nwe). IIn the example above, we can deny write access to everybody except web_editors (and root) by:
[/dev/hda2]/httpd/htdocs:+web_editors:DW Can I ask you to give perhaps a short 'howto' on how to get started, or a definition of the terms that are used? And the options in the configuration file to show it's real abilities?
Slava Zavadsky: About once per week I recieve e-mail message like that "Thank you very much for your wonderful project. It allows me to transparently migrate my network from [name of commercial NOS] to Linux. I'd suggest the following feature [...............]. Another problem is lack of HOWTO. Can I write it." My answer is always "sure". No HOWTO. May somebody, sometimes will write it. May be even myself. Right now I just give another example of conf file. It is my first production one, I used it to avoid su to watch the system and to control a single samba share:
#R/W for tg and R/O for
In the example above I grant myself right to read all the files in /var/log. It means that if I wish to check the status of the system (say, tail /var/log/messages), I can do it under my user ID, without suid. Each line of the configuation file contains access controls for a single directory (rarely a file). After device name and name of directory, it contains a semicolon separated list like user_or_group:access spec.
Access specs basically use:
• R - read files
• E - rEad directories
• X -execute files
• B- cd to directories
• W - write
Just to clarify, ACLs and Trustees are 2 different paths. The main difference that ACL, according to POSIX, affects a single file, but trustees affect a whole directory tree. I'd like to thank Slava for conducting this interview with us today. The Trustees project is certainly very interesting, and looks to have great potential! We wish you success with your project!
The home for the Linux Trustees Project is at /trustees.html and Slava can be reached at
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by Elise Boyd in New Food and Packaging on Friday 11 January 2013
If your daily trips to the local coffee shop are leaving you feeling a little flat and often wondering if the art of coffee making is truly dead, then take a pilgrimage to Black Betty in Christchurch for a caffeine fuelled enlightenment.
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by Thomas Romer in New Photography on Wednesday 6 November 2013
Don P. Mitchell knows about Soviet era space exploration. By combining 30-year-old data sent by the Venera spacecraft and new computing techniques, Mitchell managed to reveal to us the Venusian surface anew. Instead of just looking at some stones and tiny hints at what a Venusian sky might look like, his new projections expand and show us what it would actually look like walking on the surface of Venus.
Unfortunately, the new projection images were only produced in black and white, so as a bonus Wandering Space attempted a colourization based upon colour images that were also returned from the mission. The colour interpretation is artistic and based on real data, but should not be considered as scientifically accurate.
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Saturday, January 31, 2009
"Women are not 'Pork'" by Ruth Rosen....give me a break
I say that because the title of the article---a reference to people equating women with meat---has nothing to do with the actual content of the article. Or at least nothing nearly as sensational as you'd believe. The article is about a change in the stimulus bill that...wait for it....didn't cut contraceptive funding...but instead left contraceptive and family planning under Medicaid where it is instead of giving more money for it. She then goes on to talk about how lack of family planning effects the economy, but then comes back to frothily nail her target by suggesting that the labeling of the bill as 'pork', which is what all unnecessary spending is labeled as, with regards to women is indicative of a deeper treating of women's bodies as meat by society and congress. So I suppose that we should supply $1 Billion dollars to Ruth Rosen to dole out as she pleases because, obviously, contraceptive planning is too important to put a dollar amount on. Hell, $100 Billion, how about it? Because you're treating women like meat otherwise.
It sort of figures that she's a teacher at UC Berkeley. UC Berkeley is a boutique school where semi-radical professors can think they're changing the system by being allowed to be shrill in one or two classes.
Being political vs. partisanship, Howard Zinn, Michael Parenti
I think there is a lot of confusion outside of the progressive world about this. Howard Zinn has declared that people can't be neutral on a moving train while Michael Parenti has said that reality is political. My guess is that folks read things like this and declare that progressives aren't really independently minded, but that's actually the reverse of what's being said. Looking at the world politically means that you look at social issues, moral issues, ethical issues, as potentially having a political component to them, political in the sense of politics as a general science or area, not in the sense of very particular political structures like a particular department of a state government. Social issues, which are usually widely thought about social facts, at least perceived facts, give rise to different responses that are in themselves political. Moral and ethical issues follow the same tractk with political philosophy, like that implicitly underlying conservative, liberal, and radical thought, being engaged, which can then lead to concrete political solutions. Partisanship, on the other hand, is no more than just agreeing with whatever party or philosophy that you subscribe to in a dogmatic fashion. Partisanship can be based on vague, seemingly philosophical ideas, for instance in the case of right wing thinkers in the U.S., but it's rarely honestly philosophical because the bias implicit in it undercuts whatever claims to objectivity are present. And objectivity itself is not incompatible with being political. Being objective doesn't mean having no opinions; instead, it can mean that one has thought about things from a neutral perspective and has come to believe in a particular political philosophy, but that despite coming to this position you still honestly evaluate claims based on their merits rather than on their conflicts or lack thereof with your personal position.
Woo hoo! Purple Fingers!
All over the news today are pics of Iraqis with purple fingers who voted, so many different pictures that it's actually become somewhat funny to me. The purple finger thing, the featuring of it, started off as a propaganda device used by the Republicans to try to justify the invasion of Iraq. Because people were able to vote, therefore progress had been made over Saddam Hussein and we were successful in bringing democracy to the middle east. Very visibly, all the Republican members of Congress came into session with their index fingers died purple one day, showing what all the pictures were about. The purple is an anti-cheating device designed so that folks can't vote multiple times. Democracy will no doubt exist in Iraq until they elect someone who we really don't like, when it will be declared invalid because the candidate will have a supposedly illegitimate or radical agenda, after which we'll overthrow the new government. I mean, it's not like we're not going to put the new embassy, which is the size of several football fields, to use. We're still occupying Iraq and will still most likely have a big presence there after most of the troops are gone. If we wanted to truly support Iraqi democracy we would get the hell out of there, close down the embassy, and stop interfering.
That gesture would be worth more than all of the pictures of people with purple fingers circulating out there now.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Meanwhile, in the alternate and somewhat healthier reality that is Europe...
"Massive protests across France
Hundreds of thousands of people have taken to the streets and staged strikes across France to protest the government's handling of the country's economic crisis.
Public and private sector workers are demanding greater protection for their jobs and salaries, and better efforts by the government to stimulate the economy.
Estelle Yousouffa, Al Jazeera's correspondent in Paris, said at least one million people had taken to the streets, with protests held in about 200 towns and cities.
Tens of thousands of protesters in the capital walked from the Place de la Bastille towards the city centre.
"The country is literally is on hold," Yousouffa said.
"Things are functioning, some classes in school are open, but all public offices are closed, 30 per cent of the transport and the trains are working."
'Call for help'
Francois Chereque, of the CFDT union, said the protests were "the biggest workers' rallies in 20 years".
"We refuse to pay for the capitalist crisis," read one banner at a protest in the central city of Lyon.
Another said: "The capitalist economy is sick... let's let it die"."
Talking about Guantanamo Bay recidivism is like talking about Gulag recidivism
Because the Gulag system was supposedly aimed at "rehabilitation" too. I didn't realize that rehabilitation was one of the functions of Guantanamo, considering that the term is usually applied to prisoners who are charged, tried, convicted, and sentenced for a crime. Personally, if I was a Guantanamo inmate who was freed, revenge against the system and country that put me there would be foremost on my mind.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Riffing on the idea that "Terrorists have no rights"
Sunday, January 25, 2009
In praise of Snark
Admittedly, I haven't read "Snark: It’s Mean, It’s Personal, and It’s Ruining Our Conversation", by David Denby, but then he hasn't read my website. Ha. Just kidding. I've only read reviews of the book, like This One at The eXile, but I do know a thing or too about snark and so I can give a general perspective on why I like snark and why I think it's a good thing. Basically, I implemented a pro-snark policy a few months after the site started (really, I formally made the decision to put really biting, offensive, potentially libelous, humor on the blog), because of the complete blandness of mainstream political coverage.
Mainstream political coverage either on the news or in most papers stemming from the Clinton era on, with a particular emphasis on the post-9/11 age, promoted the idea that a non-conflict oriented toned down politics of consensus was the way to go. Anything that went beyond that was unreasonable. The idea carried over to today even in reporting on humanitarian tragedies like Gaza, where instead of pointing out the obvious and overwhelming inequalities of losses there the media tries to balance the carnage visited on the Palestinians with the much less traumatic pain felt by Israelis. Because if you didn't point out that, yes, Israelis have been hit by homemade rockets launched from Gaza you'd be ideologically biased. Well, I decide to say fuck that, fuck consensus, fuck being nice, fuck being polite, and instead endeavored and still endeavor to write things in an offensive tone that often mimics the level of offensiveness of what I'm writing about. I see no need to put lipstick on a pig, so to speak, when talking about non-entities cum war criminals like George W. Bush, and instead want to give back in rhetoric something that minces no words in describing the level of inhumanity that they've visited onto the world.
This leads to a lot of snark.
But a snark filled world is superior to a world of bland consensus where the abhorrent is buried under the idea of false neutrality.
Another perspective on the stuff Ossendowski talks about: Pudovkin's film "Storm over Asia"
A fiction film made in the Soviet Union in '29. About a Mongolian guy who is first cheated out of his best fur by western occupying powers/White army people, then used by them to legitimize their power because he has a piece of paper saying he's a direct descendant of Genghis Khan. It's actually a comedy, and succeeds as one. The piece of paper, for example, wasn't his but was left by a monk who tried to steal the fur at the guy's family yurt. Trust me on the funniness of this.
While the film is somewhat anti-Buddhist it's not anti-Asian, and instead gives a sensitive portrayal of Mongolian life. Fortunately, it was probably mostly made before Stalin assumed power in '29, thereby allowing much more artistic freedom in its portrayal of things than would have been possible afterwards. Not a lot of ideology besides exploitive western fur buyers and such, but it's rendered in a way that attempts to be believable.
All in all a good film.
P.S. an interesting side note is that there appears to have been a rivalry between Sergei Eisenstein, director of "The Battleship Potemkin", and Pudovkin concerning montage technique. Pudovkin puts montage to great use here, in a way that's less formalistic than some of Eisenstein's experiments. Although Eisenstein literally wrote the book, actually two books, on montage technique, it appears that the competition between the two directors yielded fruitful results.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Great book: "Men, Beasts, and Gods" by Ferdynand Ossendowski
A fascinating book about an area that seems to be very rich but has been overlooked: the upper Yenisei area of Siberia and Mongolia. It's mainly a story of adventure told by the author about his time being there during the Russian Civil War--albeit one the White side. Peoples encountered include Kalmycks, Tatars, Soyots, Buriats, Mongolians, Tibetans, Chinese, of course Russians, and miscellaneous tribal peoples of the area. The book has been criticized because it talks about the "King of the World" a figure who is supposedly the head of all the high lamas, like the Dalai Lama, and who supposedly lives in a large cavern underground. In point of fact the book only talks about this in what's an appendix, and it's pretty much proven that Ossendowski plaigarized this info from French mystic Saint-Yves d'Alveydre's book "The Mission of India". This information is just tacked on at the end and is obviously very different from the overwhelming bulk of the book, which is described in the first person in a realistic way, with verifiable people and places.
It's a treasure trove of a lost world, lost partly because of the forced settling of the nomadic tribes under the Soviet Union, something which is a black eye on that form of socialism. Available in various divers places via the web.
From inauguration to inaugration----how long this blog has been going
I just noticed that in the eight years between Bush's first inauguration in 2001 and Barack Obama's inauguration this January 20th I've been writing for about six years ten months. The blog officially started March 28th 2002. It was a little over a 14 months since the inauguration but because of 9/11 it seemed like an eternity. But all this is profoundly depressing to me. 6 Years, 10 Months of 8 years. I outlasted the Bush regime but it left fucking scars through the completely anti-intellectual tone of these times. At a time when pseudo-literate right wing authors could get shit in print that didn't make even the basic amount of sense that a college freshman class would require I was writing shit that touched on complex philosophical issues and getting totally ignored and laughed at when the someone decided to pay attention to me. The helpful people from anonymous e-mail addresses who read my posts for a long time and used to mysteriously make insulting comment after insulting comment on them once complained that my writings were making their brains hurt.
One of the reasons that the French Revolution freaked people out so much...
I think that the violence was just the icing on the cake. What happened in the radical phase of the French Revolution was that the huge feudal estates held by Lords were broken up and the land redistributed to the farmers who actually farmed it. Then the Lords were arrested and tried. The idea that radical democracy has to be bloody is less tenable once you realize that often in the cases where big excesses occurred the point wasn't simply revenge or hatred but was an underlying principle like the possession of land by the people who work it. That type of principle can be strengthened without violence, thereby short circuiting the argument against radical democracy by turning it into a question posed to the arguerers: does the underlying point make sense?
The bloody phase of the French Revolution was indeed bloody and somewhat indiscriminate in all likelihood, but the writers of the time were also thinking about their money when they registered their shock and displeasure.
Friday, January 23, 2009
An indicator of how crazy the Stalinist '30s were in the USSR: Yezhov
Yezhov was Stalin's head of the secret police before Beria. As told in Semyon Aronovich's film "I worked for Stalin" Yezhov decided to do something called "The biological model" with the members of the Communist Party. What this meant was simple: people who were members of the Communist Party had to periodically fill official biographies of themselves that were then entered into permanent files; Yezhov and his subordinates went through the files and compared the different versions of people's biographies to each other. If there were any discrepancies, like a slightly different date or a slightly different retelling of the facts, or new facts or facts that were absent, the person was called in, arrested, interrogated, and then likely either sent to a labor camp or shot. Eventually the toll became to great and Yezhov was found, of course, to have singled out people who were absolutely not guilty of anything. I think it was called "The biological model" because the vulnerable and weak were culled.
He was replaced by Lavrenty Beria, unfortunately, who was an even bigger, sadistic, monster.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
"Historical Mystery of Bush's Presidency" a good article by Robert Parry
Here.The mystery, literally, is why the fuck did we elect him---not once but twice, the second time after 9/11 and after his assault on people's rights and on Afghanistan and Iraq in a direct sense. It outlines in an almost painful way the key failings of Bush from the campaign in 2000 till the end.
My contribution to why exactly people did it are that on some level lots and lots of people identify with the sort of idiotic man's man cigar chomping back slapping good 'ole boys network type of guy that Bush represented. Ignorant about everything except how to make money, which is sometimes gotten by who you know, with greed and corruption flying high, the man's men mindset embodies much of the concept of the "Ugly American". We are in fact the "Ugly Americans", and a significant amount of us don't give a damn about the rest of the world, or civil rights, or human rights, or prisoner's rights, or (enemies) privacy rights, or legal arguments against starting wars with whoever the fuck we want to, on and on. It isn't some sort of flaw. That's how lots of people in the U.S. are. Bourbon drinking cretins. It's why we're in the economic crisis we're in, through the extrapolation of that ethic all across the economy, and why the world hates us. Bush is the both the natural outcome of this aspect of the capitalist system and a champion for all who are a part of it who aspire to some sort of 'greatness'.
From the article:
"Even on Inauguration Day 2009, as most Americans rejoice that Bush's disastrous presidency is finally heading into the history books, there should be reflection on how this catastrophe could have befallen the United States - and on who else was responsible.
Indeed, it may become one of the great historical mysteries, leaving future scholars to scratch their heads over how a leader with as few qualifications as George W. Bush came to lead the world's most powerful nation at the start of the 21st century.
How could a significant number of American voters have thought that an enterprise as vast and complicated as the U.S. government could be guided by a person who had failed at nearly every job he ever had, whose principal qualification was that his father, George H.W. Bush, was fondly remembered as having greater personal morality than Bill Clinton?
Why did so many Americans think that a little-traveled, incurious and inarticulate man of privilege could lead the United States in a world of daunting challenges, shifting dangers and sharpening competition?
What had transformed American politics so much that, for many Americans, personal trivia, like Al Gore's earth-tone sweaters, trumped serious policy debates, like global warming, health care for citizens, prudent fiscal policies and a responsible foreign policy? How could George W. Bush, who was born with a shiny silver spoon in his mouth, sell himself as a populist everyman?
Even taking into account the controversial outcome of Election 2000 - which saw Gore win more votes than Bush - why was the margin close enough so Bush could snatch the White House away with the help of five Republicans on the U.S. Supreme Court?
And why did the nation - after the 9/11 attacks - so willingly follow Bush into a radical divergence from traditional U.S. foreign policy and into violations of longstanding national principles of inalienable rights and the rule of law?
Why did the institutions designed to protect U.S. constitutional liberties, including the press and Congress, crumble so readily, allowing Bush to seize so much power that he could entangle the United States in an aggressive - and costly - war in Iraq with few questions asked?"
How strange--Valkyrie nominated for nothing and Benjamin Buttons nominated for everything
In the Oscars competition. There's no conspiracy here, as I've outlined in previous posts. Instead, there's the sheer weight of Hollywood inertial stupidity, stupidity that shies away from any controversy like it's the plague. Benjamin Buttons, which I've seen, is a nice, harmless, drama that's uplifting and happy. Valkyrie has Hitler in it. The academy, if it selects Brad Pitt as the best actor of the year for Benjamin Buttons it will confirm that the academy cares more about nice consensus than about actual talent. Pitt was decent in Benjamin Buttons, but in my opinion Tom Cruise blew him out of the water with his portrayal of Stauffenberg in Valkyrie.
In general I'm surprised that Benjamin Buttons got the amount of nominations that it did. It's really a second rate film, although a good second rate film, and it doesn't deserve the highest honors that a competitive, juried, competition could bestow on it. But it's safe! And heart warming! And it doesn't bring up any icky moral issues that people have to ruminate on! And Brad Pitt is so cute! You see where I'm going with this.
The level of reasoning here is probably something like that of a coked up executive waking up in the morning and considering the films to be nominated and saying "What? Umm. Damn that fucking light. What time is it? Shit. Okay okay, what films are out there. One about Nazis with Hitler? No fucking way. What else is there? Oh yeah, that one about the guy who ages backwards. Cool. Where's my fucking car? What the hell happened last night?"
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
A special blast from the past: George W. Bush after the inauguration
Based on William S. Burrough's routine "Roosevelt after the inauguration". Originally written in April of '03
A blast from the past that I wrote in 2003:
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
America becomes a true New World country
An overlooked but highly important consequence of electing a black President. You see, the United States has done its best to conceal its colonial heritage, to conceal the fact that we're not just an extension of Europe but are a country determined by the fact of our later settlement. If you go to Europe and go to some of the old towns in the cities there you'll see that they go back in some cases over a thousand years. The United States has only been settled, at the earliest, about four hundred. Before that North America was an unknown country ruled by its native inhabitants.
Whatever later innovations in things like representative government America later came up with, it was always within the colonial context. Farmers in Massachusetts who existed without slavery? Still in a colonial context and not in a European one. Farmers in Iowa? Farmers within a colonial context and not in a European one. The absence of slavery and of later contact with native american tribes in the United States does not change the fact that our country was produced by colonization. T
he New World was typified by slavery. Now we have a black man as President, as opposed to the 'good New England stock' and other fictions that people used to evaluate potential Presidents by. The United States has been typified by immigrants from all over the world coming to find better lives. Now we have a President who was the son of an immigrant. Barack Obama is more representative of what both we as a nation are and of what the New World as a whole, America north and south, is.
Toussaint L'Ouverture thou art avenged
Toussaint L'Ouverture was the key leader of the Haitian Revolution that overthrew slavery and colonialism there.
I believe we have a new President
Monday, January 19, 2009
Less than twelve hours left of Bush administration
12:00 EST or 9:00 Pacific time out here will be when Obama becomes the official President of the United States.
350,00 conservatives vow to fight Obama's 'Socialistic' agenda. My guess is that that's the number of people who voted for McCain and Palin
It's a petition, it turns out, from Rawstory.
Ten years ago I was in NYC listening to MLK day programming on WBAI
And being awed.
Last day of Bush administration
I hope so. The big reflections will come tomorrow. I don't doubt that everything will go as planned, but I still will not believe it until I see it. I've been following this thing since the beginning; I was living in Florida when the 2000 election happened and I voted in it (for Nader...which in all likelihood changed nothing because most people where I lived were Republicans).
Less than 24 hours Bush will be gone..
Less than 24 hours.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
A crucial twist that Hegel brought to Kant's philosophy
One that I'm having an increasing appreciation of. First I'd start off by saying that going from Kant and Kantian philosophy to Hegel and what Hegel may be refracting back as a whole isn't what this post is about. Just a tiny smidgen of Kant's philosophy that Hegel changed. That change was his declaration that the Thing in Itself is really empty and that when you get to the Thing in Itself seemingly behind reality a lot of what you find is what you already had, but in a somewhat different form and context. The Kantian Thing in Itself is the thing that exists in reality beyond our perceptual filters, reality unmediated by senses or by mental constructs on what the nature of reality should be. But I think that Hegel is using it in a different sense here, actually.
Talking about what the Thing in Itself is and labeling it empty flows right into Hegel's philosophy of history, something that Kant didn't talk a lot about. If history is thought to be approaching a certain goal or point, to be getting closer to an absolute value that appears to be outside of everything, first of all that value is part of a greater whole in this way of thinking. Something bigger generates the value that it appears that we're tending towards, and the attainment of that value will not consist of a transcendental absolute but of a recapitulation of reality as we understood it in an advanced context that we did not suspect.
The Thing in Itself, in this case the transcendental absolute value outside of reality that it seems like human history is approaching, turns out to be partially vacant in that it gives a (maybe very important) formal alteration to history but does not consist of a static, concrete, point. In Hegel's philosophy there is no ultimate absolute in the way I'm using the phrase but instead there are contexts following contexts, doors following doors following doors down a straight hallway where the opening of each door represents a change in the context of the person or historical subject but does not really constitute anything more than a stop along the way. Along the way to what? Hegel argued that there indeed was an overall tendency of these wheels within wheels to be structured in a precise way, the hallway taken as a whole leading up to something, but I personally think that this is not required and that the doors open and open infinitely, with ultimately you and where you want to take whatever---yourself, something that you're part of, society as part of it----being the arbiters of where the doors lead to, where they go.
But I'm digressing.
The important thing is that people shouldn't be afraid of what's in the unknown, on the other side of reality. People always think that out there, somewhere, in some unknown area of life, things are completely and totally different. The connection here is that the Unknown is also often associated with Absolute Value and with the Thing in Itself. What is unknown is potentially greater than you, potentially is something on line with the Platonic archetypes. But Hegel's declaration of his concepts cheats all of it by declaring that indeed we've seen the unknown, we've experienced awe and wonder at our relationship between ourselves and it, but that when we've actually stepped over the line some crucial things may have altered but our basic experience wasn't any different. It may now be invested with the trace of the value of the absolute or of the archetype, as a personal meaning, but not all of our previous knowledge or ways of being are destroyed by it.
Bush spent a third of his presidency either at his ranch or at Camp David
With the Camp David time being retreat time not peace accord time. According to CBS News Bush spent 487 days at Camp David and 490 days at his ranch in Texas. That's 977 days. Eight years equals 2,920 days, 977/2920 = 0.335 or a smidgen over 1/3. Or roughly two years eight months of his eight year presidency.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I wonder who supplied the food?
From an article about the return of opposition leader Tsvangarai to Zimbabwe.
The article and the self promotion of the U.S. on its food given to starving people are unrelated.
"MLK's dream included economic justice"--so now the AP tells us!
Funny how the main stream media has suddenly found this out. They've been deliberately shutting it out of discourse for a long, long, time:
AP via Seattle PI
"Although King is best known for his civil rights work, he was a staunch advocate for economic justice. In the months before he was killed, he had been working on the Poor People's Campaign and calling for an economic bill of rights. When he was assassinated in 1968, he was in Memphis supporting a sanitation workers' strike.
"Economic empowerment and justice was always a part of Dr. King's purpose," professor King said. "Civil rights without economic parity is still imprisonment."
While the election of Barack Obama is a huge step toward King's dream of a time when people are judged on the content of their character and not their skin color, economic data shows racial disparities are still pervasive when it comes to financial equality."
This is absolutely true and, guess what, people have known about it since King was actually advocating the policies while alive. It's the mainstream media who has shut out this aspect of King's work. It doesn't take "King scholars" as the article says, to find this out: the media could have listened to WBAI's MLK day programming. WBAI, the station that Democracy Now! calls home, once said that there should be a moratorium on broadcasting the "I have a dream" speech in order to broadcast later speeches that are more reflective of what King was advocating in his later days. The Vietnam War and Poverty are key themes in that. Also, the need to both have economic disparities between blacks and whites addressed AND the disparity between workers and owners addressed. This is indeed what he was talking about when he was in Memphis.
Good old class distinctions in "the Miracle on the Hudson"
Via The eXile
How the worm has turned: from SS members marching in Latvia to protesters against neoliberalism
Here. The Baltics were famous after independence for the resurgence of far, far, right groups including parades of surviving SS members, and 100% anti Communism. Now they're protesting neoliberal austerity measures. Funny how things change.
Final death toll in Gaza: 1230 vs. 14
Thereby showing that one Israeli life is worth about a hundred Palestinian lives. It would be good to keep this ratio in mind in the future to predict how many Palestinians Israelis are going to kill in revenge for an Israeli death. *on edit: actually more like 84:1
*on edit: the actual death toll was over 1300. This post was written before the bodies had totally been counted.
Friday, January 16, 2009
A Welcome Sight at the White House
Three books by Hitler available at ye local chain bookstore but none by socialist authors
The ones by Hitler being about four copies of "Mein Kampf", one copy of "Hitler's Second Book", one copy of the mammoth, over six hundred page "The essential Hitler". Also carried is a book of key speeches of the Third Reich by various Nazis. People will say "But they carry a book or two by Marx!", but that's not really a valid point because Marx was largely a theorist and not really a socialist political figure in the same way as, say, Lenin or Rosa Luxemburg. I mean, why don't they carry writings by Lenin? You might object saying that Lenin was an authoritarian who killed libertarian socialism in the USSR and who has blood on his hands from orders given during the civil war, but no one outside of hyper-ideological Fox News types suggest that there's any equivalence between Lenin and Hitler. Stalin and Hitler yes, but not Lenin and Hitler. I mean, if the bookstore, which is either Barnes & Noble or Borders Books & Music (I'm not going to say which), was really concerned about the morality of the political figures whose writing they're stocking they wouldn't stock three books by Hitler now, would they? Kill twelve million people, fine to carry speeches and writings, started a socialist revolution that was problematic, with both positive and negative aspects, that did in the process kill people, albeit in a civil war which the revolution sparked, can't carry him. People would be up in arms if a major chain bookstore started carrying multiple tomes of Lenin's speeches and writings. But Hitler, well....I mean there is the first amendment, right?
Guess the person who's from the Middle East
Two semi-related images from Al Jazeera English :
A cabinet member from Qatar
Tzipi Livni, Israeli foreign minister
On edit: it looks like Tzipi Livni could be a distant relative of me, and I'm not Jewish.
And don't you know it, three days before Obama's inauguration Israel will stop the assault on Gaza
According to This story on Al-Jazeera. Saturday is supposed to be the day they stop. Confirmation on the idea that the assault on Gaza was a brutality timed to create the most damage before the blank check given by the Bush administration to Israel expired. 1,150 dead, a third of them children, it's Israel's idea of a sendoff for Bush.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
On Andrzej Wajda's "Katyn"
Which I've finally seen, on PAL, with the aspect ratio turned to 16:9 so that the English subtitles work. It's a decent movie and overtly political, although the politicization is that of non-Communist Polish patriotism. The funny thing is that there are lots and lots of movies that have been released in the U.S. that have similar hokeyness. It rubs me the wrong way, the Polish patriotism, because I dislike patriotic themes in general, but it's not to the point where the story can't be appreciated.
Briefly, the story is about a Polish officer who is captured during the Soviet invasion of Poland, and what his family goes through during and after the war regarding uncertainty about his fate. The Katyn massacre is finally recognized after the war but Soviet occupied Poland has to buy the line that the Germans committed it. Several characters struggle with the conflict between their own knowledge of the massacre and the official story. Finally, the actual killings at the Katyn forest are re-enacted and you see the officer get shot, among many others whose killing is also shown.
The Katyn massacre of Polish officers and professional and intellectual persons by the Soviets was made possible by a secret clause in the Hitler-Stalin pact that said that if the Nazis invaded Poland that the Soviets could move in and seize eastern Poland, the Baltics, and Finland. The Nazis invaded in '39, thereby starting World War II, and so the Soviets moved in. Now the question is why didn't this get released in DVD Region 1 NTSC format, U.S. format in other words, in the United States; I mean it was nominated for an academy award and Andrzej Wajda is in fact one of the leading post-war Polish directors.
The reason is simple. It's not a conspiracy but the stupidity of Hollywood and the fact that when a certain narrative or story becomes established in the movies it's hard to break through that with a story that doesn't fit into the established categories. The Holocaust and to a lesser extent World War II as a whole have established themselves in American media in a certain way that sucks the air out of the room, so to speak. There's the Holocaust on one side of it and American troops fighting the Nazis on the other, the Nazis persecuted and killed the Jews and the Americans stepped in to fight against Nazi barbarism. It's a sort of thumbnail sketch of the Second World War. It paints us in great colors by contrasting the heroic Americans, who in point of fact only entered the war two years after it started, and who did less to liberate Europe from Naziism than the Russians did, confronting the worst evil perpetrated during the second World War, even though the allies chose not to do things like bomb the train tracks leading to Auschwitz, which would have saved more people from being murdered. Complexities in the story, particularly complexities in the story that don't revolve around either the United States or the Nazis, just don't fit into the formula, and Poland, which was certainly a third party in this, divided between Soviet and Nazi and never liberated by American troops, doesn't fit into it either. Even though masses of people died and suffered who weren't rounded up and sent to death camps like jews , even though other Fascist regimes existed besides the Nazis and Italy who persecuted their own people in particularly horrible ways, the easy way out still stands. Even Mussolini's Italy is usually beyond the story.
There's a very interesting twist in the meaning of Norman Finkelstein's term "The Holocaust Industry", an excellent book, one that I'm fairly certain is intentional. "The Holocaust Industry" concept that Finkelstein refers to is akin to the "Culture Industry" of Adorno and Horkheimer, a kind of hermetically sealed media environment that does its best to stupidly distract people from the real questions of the day and fill them with bread and circuses. The bread and circuses don't have to refer to anything real. In Finkelstein's usage it's a sort of self-perpetuating media frenzy that shuts out voices and ideas that don't fit within the boundaries of established pop culture portrayals of World War II. Books and books marketed for the United States are written of memoirs, which is good, but with a high frequency of popular memoirs turning out to be complete fictions, sometimes with the authors not even being Jewish, which is less good. Yet they fit the popular script and are accepted and loved, like "The Painted Bird" by Jerzy Kosinski, a novel about inhumanity and anti-semitism among Polish villagers that has been proven to have been made up. Kosinski never had the experiences he talks about. Yet it and its brethren are justified even after the falsehood comes out because they supposedly convey the spirit or feeling of terror of the Holocaust, no matter if they've been totally made up. Recently there was a case of a memoir about a young girl who supposedly killed an SS officer, escaped from a concentration camp, and lived in the forest with wolves that was accepted and everything that's been proven to be completely, completely, false; so the pattern lives on. And it's a particularly American pattern too. According to Finkelstein, Israel focusses on uprisings and resistance to the Nazis, both of which get little press here in the U.S. Europe similarly does this although it points to non-Jewish resistance to the Nazis, for instance the French Resistance, Italian Partisans, the White Rose society in Denmark and others. But suffering in World War II is so completely and totally associated with the media construct of Jews being completely passive victims, going to camps and being murdered without resistance of any kind, making the white and black contrast that much easier to continue, that suffering of other groups has no room here.
It's like it's a zero sum game for suffering during World War II in American pop culture: if you let on that other groups suffered you're supposedly turning away from or devaluing the suffering of Jews in the Holocaust, as if there's a limited supply of suffering to go around and sides are going back and forth over it. Where are the stories of the Gypsies who died in the Holocaust? Where are the stories of the victims of the Armenian Genocide, which was as much an act of mass murder as the Holocaust itself? Nowhere in American culture, because we like our stories neat, clean, and simple. Finkelstein also points out that in the end the way the Holocaust is treated in the United States does a disservice to the Holocaust itself, because it substitutes syrupy narratives for the harsh, cold, reality of it. There's "Schindler's List", where the jews in the factory are saved in the end, but there isn't a film that portrays the death camps as places where there both was no escape and no possible saving grace or ultimate miracle.
So see Katyn, if you can, that is if you can figure out how to play PAL DVDs, figure out how to turn your player to a 16:9 ratio and manage to get a copy of it used on eBay sent to the United States from Europe.
The fact that the murder of 20,000 people can't be accommodated into our, the U.S.', picture of World War II is serves as an indictment of the way it's treated in pop culture as a whole.
I've got my hands on a copy of Wajda's "Katyn", in PAL format with English subtitles
Where the subtitles don't even work unless you adjust your DVD player. I'm not going to let this thing go. 20,000 people, Polish officers, officials, intellectuals, were massacred in the Katyn forest by the Soviets under the Hitler-Stalin pact and yet an academy award nominated picture about it by probably the most respected and important post-war Polish film director is unavailable in the United States in a format that U.S. DVD players can play. I'll give a review of it, and be more forthright about the double standard.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Chavez, we really need to have a little talk
Hugo, Hugo. I realize the importance of having a regime in place that can carry through with a popular revolution, but you know, abolishing term limits is going a little too far. One of the appeals that the Bolivarian Revolution had was that you were a folksy guy with integrity, but trying to end term limits doesn't really agree with that. If you stepped down and another person in your party ran for President---and he or she was truly independent---it would show the world that you're really carrying through the social change you claim to have started. I realize that lots of concrete progress has been realized in Venezuela in many sectors, but for it to stick you need to have basic democracy....and no more of these referendums. Referendums of these sorts bring to mind the Plebiscites that Napoleon instituted, which were bread and circuses designed to give the people a feeling of popular power while the real decisions were made behind closed doors.
Over 1,000 people dead in Gaza
And you still think this is about Hamas firing rockets into Israel?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Wonderful Photoshopped picture of Bush
Supreme Court legalizes homosexuality!
In 2003. I know that this is old news, but I don't think that many people realize that the case that struck down sodomy statutes also recognized homosexual relationships as being valid and on par with heterosexual ones, even if formal marriage is still illegal places. I didn't know about it either until I came across the case and read some of it. The language is beautiful, and it's something that almost makes you want to cry. Here's some of what I'm talking about:
"John Geddes Lawrence v. Texas, June 6 2003, Justice Kennedy giving the opinion of the court:
"To say that the issue in Bowers[a previous case that upheld anti-homosexual legislation] was simply the right to engage in certain sexual conduct demeans the claim the individual put forward, just as it would demean a married couple were it to be said marriage is simply about the right to have sexual intercourse. The laws involved in bowers and here are, to be sure, statutes that purport to do no more than prohibit a particular sexual act. Their penalties and purposes, though, have more far-reaching consequences, touching upon the most private human conduct, sexual behavior, and in the most private of places, the home. The statutes do seek to control a personal relationship that, whether or not entitled to formal recognition in the law, is within the liberty of persons to choose without being punished as criminals.
The Texas statute furthers no legitimate state interest which can justify its intrusion into the personal and private life of the individual. ....
Aztec Religion, human sacrifice
A semi random factoid. I'm not a scholar of Aztec religion but this is my understanding of it, which is to say that there were a few factors that made it less gruesome than people think. First of all, death and life were much more closely associated in Aztec culture than in Western culture, so that death was accepted as a normal part of life, not something to be feared but a necessary part of the cycle of life. The Aztecs also believed in reincarnation, although the process was thought to take something like twelve years between death and rebirth. So death was not the end, and death was honored as a part of the greater whole. Now, where human sacrifice figures in is this: human sacrifice was thought to be something that propitiated spirits and ensured the proper functioning of the world. When people hear the idea of human sacrifice they probably think of some sort of psychotic killer attacking a random person in a sadistic way, but the ritualization of sacrifice by the Aztecs was in all likelihood a near antithesis of that. Something that sheds more light on it is that rulers, I'm thinking rulers less than those at the very, very, top, would ritually commit suicide at regular intervals in order to ensure the functioning of the world as well, and there were rituals of mortification, like having a rope drawn through a hole in your tongue, that also served as sacrifice. Suffering, pain, death, the certainty of an afterlife, no prohibitions against taking ones life like in Hinduism and Buddhism, combine to make the idea of the sacrifice of people less tragic than may normally be thought.
Of course human sacrifice is still human sacrifice, and we don't live in the Aztec empire, but it's still interesting to look back and try to figure it out.
Monday, January 12, 2009
UN Human Rights Workers hold up UN flag with bloody handprints on it
Unique, to say the least
United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) employees hold a U.N. flag stained with red paint during a protest in the West Bank city of Hebron against Israel's offensive in Gaza January 12, 2009. (Reuters/Nayef Hashlamoun/West Bank)The resolution setting up a fact-finding mission was adopted despite the lack of Western support.
"GENEVA - A divided UN Human Rights Council voted on Monday to condemn Israel's offensive in the Gaza Strip and set up a probe into "grave" human rights violations by Israeli forces against the Palestinians.
The 47 member council -- frequently critical of Israel in the past -- normally seeks to adopt resolutions by consensus.
Maybe the feeling of 'bias' held by the West against the African and Arab states is something that they have caused third world countries to feel time and again in actions regarding them. Now the shoe is on the other foot.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Nine, soon to be eight, days until Bush is gone
I used to look at all of those 1.20.09 bumper stickers as being the ultimate in defeatism: an acknowledgement by the people who bought and display it that they're not going to do much in terms of protesting except let the clock run out. Not work on campaigns, not write letters, not participate in protests, just have that bumper sticker on their car and hope for the best. Of course, these people could also have been volunteering for the Obama campaign, but the ethic embodied in that sticker was profoundly depressing. Now that 1.20.09 is less than ten days away it's a little different.
I have a prediction, and it concerns Gaza: the conflict in Gaza will mysteriously end a day or two before Obama is inaugurated. It's been in the back of my mind that part of the reason for the assault on Gaza now is that Bush is still in office and still able to offer cover to the Israelis to do whatever they want, so they're aiming at the most brutality they can inflict on the Palestinians in Gaza while their blank check is still good. I'm not sure what Obama's position is going to be but it likely won't be the kind of blanket acceptance of fascist far right policies that Bush has given his assent to, both in Israel and around the world. 1.20.09 may be around the day when Israel announces that their 'military objectives' have been met in Gaza.
One thing I'm hoping will be a result in the Seattle area of the recession...
Is that IT workers will be introduced to some of the same standards that the rest of the world lives by. What I mean by that is this: around here there are companies that offer their computer people benefits beyond anything that is even conceivable elsewhere in an effort to make them as creative as they can. One company, profiled in Seattle Living, had masseurs on hand, a weekly party with alcohol provided by the company on Fridays, and a property in the Caribbean that people who worked there got a set amount of days they could go to. I've also ran into people whose companies have monthly optional concerts where the employees who are in bands on the weekends can bring their instruments into the company and play for folks. On top of that you have the most informal work environments that you could imagine, with all sorts of craziness and wittiness being not grounds for dismissal but instead being thought of as not a big deal if the payoff is productive and creative employees. It seems that with some of these companies the employees have everything but a stable of hookers who give out free blow jobs at lunch in order to defuse tension. But, ah, with the economy going south all of that may change.
No more free massages, no more parties. "We have to think of the bottom line you know and times are tough now....You don't like it? That's sort of tough. If you want to be an employee here you're going to have to accept it." Point being that people get fired for much, much less than these people are allowed and encouraged to engage in at work. Now they may get a reality check.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
What would you call a 64 to 1 ratio of deaths?
Because currently the Palestinian death toll stands at 831 and the Israeli death toll is 16. 3,350 Palestinians have been wounded, according to Al Jazeera. I'm sure that slightly more than 16 people have been injured in rocket attacks, but I'd be surprised if it even rose beyond the lower half of the two digit range.
Breast Cancer, looking for a cure....
Maybe a cure isn't as desirable as effective treatment that's much less harmful and invasive. The reason I say that is that it seems likely that one of the causes of breast cancer is the enormous amount of pollutants in the environment. This may combine with genetic predisposition, but judging by the huge numbers of women now suffering from breast cancer it seems that genetic factors aren't the only ones contributing. If it had been, the idea of widespread breast cancer would not have just appeared in the last couple of years but would have been present for a long, long, time. So to find a cure would mean cleaning up the environment and somehow lessening the toxic load that people in general have in their bodies. This is a much more ambitious project than just finding a 'cure', which implies a drug or a treatment that will stop women from getting breast cancer forever. There may not even be a possible cure for breast cancer if the environmental toxins are strong enough. That's why I think that better treatment, treatment that doesn't destroy people's bodies and require mastectomies, is maybe a more attainable goal.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Israel herded 110 people into a house and then shelled it.
Killing 30. The shelling happened twenty four hours after the people were ordered into the single family house and told to stay put. Supposedly, according to the propaganda put out, the Israeli army is a fully modern and competent military machine, so it's hard to believe that this World Class bunch of people lost track of the fact that they'd corralled 110 people into the house.
'Mass execution', 'War crime', 'Mass murder', are terms that come to mind.
I was right: civilian casualties in Gaza is code for women and children
From Al Jazeera English:
If the 70-30% estimate still holds, 30% of 800 is 266. Percentage of civilian casualties have likely increased. However, it's likely, and this is the point, that every man killed is being labeled a member of Hamas, and therefore not labeled a civilian casualty.
Am I dreaming? Wal-Mart to cut 1,000 management jobs?
According to Raw Story. Unfortunately, since it's Wal-Mart it's a pretty safe bet that there's lots more regular people being fired than this.
Spelling Nietzsche in Russian
Because Nietzsche is actually a Polish name. I don't know if this is how it's officially spelled in Russian but Nietzsche can be phonetically spelled Нища. *on edit: an alternate spelling would be Нищэ.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The U.S.-Israeli relationship is in an advanced state of perverse decadence
And not decadence and perversion in a good way. Writing a lot of these things I'm aware that if Israel was just a peaceful society occupying a place in the desert where there were no previous people, just doing its thing, that alleging that pro-Israeli bias in the U.S. news had grown to the point where the media is almost a stenographer for Israel would be anti-Semitic. But in the present time that isn't how Israel is. That isn't how the situation with the Palestinians is either: a few people who happened to be there. The cozy relationship between the U.S. government and Israel, constituting automatic approval and a constant flow of money and weapons, is something corrupt that should not have started. Now that decades and decades have passed, at least since the early '70s, what started out wrong has grown to such huge proportions that increasingly perverse outcomes are being produced. What I mean by that is that certain profoundly fucked up situations can only come into existence if the system that produced them has been broken for a long time. You don't get to certain levels of wrongness in one go, they have to be built.
The U.S.-Israeli relationship has taken on such tremendous levels of dishonesty that black is now effectively white and white now black in the media.
Mainstream U.S. media portrayal of the conflict is mostly approving of Israel, portraying the Israelis as pure victims responding to threats on their lives. The reality is the opposite. Everyone else knows it but us, because we've built bullshit on top of bullshit regarding the Palestinians and Israel up so much that we can't see the ground below it. When you puncture that wound, or that boil, lots and lots of bile comes out, bile that at first glance may appear to be anti-Semitic but that in fact is a basic statement on how the U.S.-Israel relationship has become.
Palestine has nothing to do with the religion of Judaism. Israel does not equal Judaism, no matter how hard they try to promote that link. Israel also does not equal the community of people who designate themselves as being jewish. Israel does not have the authority to invoke the Holocaust as a valid reason to do what it wants to to the Palestinians. Israel is simply a settler state that drove the original inhabitants either out or into small areas, took their land, broke the rules and took more and more land that they were not even legally allowed to take under a UN agreement, and has been both enforcing its claims to the place it exists in by arms and is trying to expand its borders even farther. Depopulating the region of its original inhabitants as it goes.
The Palestinians are rightfully resisting this. They contest the original election that gave the signal that the formation of Israel was approved of by the Palestinians. Judaism and Jewish identity don't have anything to do with it. It's power.
The only factor that informed Israel from ethnic and religious considerations was the notion that after the Holocaust people of jewish background deserved a safe haven from further persecution. While that may have been a good point in theory, in practice the piece of land that they wanted said homeland to be built was already occupied by people who had lived their for millenia.....and who were probably relatives of the Israelis although they were Muslim. The next step was racism. Although I haven't looked into the founding of Israel as much as I should, I think that one of the reasons it came about is because the people who lived there, the Palestinians, were regarded as an inferior race. This racism was commonly held both by European Jewish settlers and the British occupiers. The struggle for Israeli independence, then, was thought of not in terms of Israelis and Palestinians but in terms of Israel vs. the British, two white groups....European for all purposes...fighting over who possessed the right to the land that the Palestinians lived on.
The invocations of the Holocaust are grotesque. The suggestion that Hamas better stop because their actions may lead to a wave of anti-semitism in Europe, with the subtext of a potential new Holocaust, is beyond grotesque and perverse when you consider that 700 real people, not abstract people possibly located twenty years in the future, have died as a result of Israeli attacks. Which is more important---people being killed now or the abstract possibility that all this may lead to increased anti-semitism which may include more threats to Jews in Europe, which may escalate into mass persecution. People are dying, being killed, maimed, injured, at this moment and Israel is invoking specters from sixty years ago in the past in order to justify the killing, the maiming, and the injuring going on right now.
You be the judge of it all.
Over 700 killed in Gaza, estimated 30% civilians, but what does that mean?
I started questioning the rationale behind who is and is not a civilian when I saw that policemen in Gaza--who admittedly work for the Hamas government there--were being labeled Hamas combatants when they were killed. I suspect that the 30% who are civilian casualties are people of whom there can be no doubt that they weren't Hamas members, or terrorists. Women and children most likely make up a big percentage of the civilian killed, although there probably are men killed of whom no mental gymnastics can make them into combatants. 30% of 700 is 210, so an estimated two hundred and ten civilians, with women and children likely making up a great deal of them, have been confirmed killed so far.
And four Israelis have been killed.
When the Red Cross takes Israel to task over using overwhelming force against Gaza in light of what Hamas is actually doing they're not just putting hot air out there. Hamas is firing rockets at southern settlements, which are illegal, near Gaza. Ignoring the conditions that Gazans have been living under during the blockade that preceded the attacks and the invasion, Israel is only entitled to use comparable force to stop Hamas from firing their rockets. Bombing and invasion go way beyond that. It's sort of like laying siege to Fallujah after the two "contractors" from Blackwater were publicly killed and burned. Not exactly a comparable response. Think about it this way: if a group of U.S. soldiers was hiding in brush and mountains, firing mortar shells now and then at an enemy when they think they can get away with it, were caught.....then all of them, lets say there's ten of them, were executed by firing squad, people would freak out. People would be beside themselves talking about how this was not just and how these guys have families back home who now are deprived of them, and that the enemy was barbaric for executing all of them instead of taking them hostage.
Another example would be kids throwing rocks at Israeli tanks getting shot and killed by machine gun fire directed at them in response, which has happened in Rafah.
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Biographical sketch of site for Anarchoblogs
Anarchoblogs is back and up running at:
If you're a blogger who wants to join, the address to go to is
RadGeek has asked people who listed to give a short paragraph or two about their site. This is mine.
Lost Highway Times is an eclectic mix of anarcho-communism, left Marxism, and the ethos of individualist anarchism. In addition to these topics, Lost Highway is carrying out a re-evaluation of State Socialist societies and history free from both anti-Communist and Capitalist bias, with discussion of these societies, and possible positive features of them here and there, not implying endorsement of the systems as a whole. Particular interest is given to the type of ultra-left Bolshevism associated with the "Vpered Group" and the Otzovists, related groups of people who rejected large portions of what we think of today as Leninism. The Socialist Revolutionary Party of Russia is also an interest of the blog. This blog also aims to introduce readers to philosophical ideas and history that while well known outside of the U.S. are either completely unknown inside of it or are known only to a very, very, small group of people. This includes exotic leftist currents and political philosophy, not necessarily strictly anarchist, as well. The blog covers a diverse range of news and ideas from film, music, art and culture, to current events, and more directly political issues. It's located in Seattle.
Cowardly Obama to wait until inauguration to express view on Gaza
Probably because it'll likely be over by then. If you really believe in change, pressure Obama to say something about Gaza instead of putting all responsibility off on Bush and hoping that it ends before he has to deal with it directly.
Very good article on biased news coverage from Al
This article, "In the US, Gaza is a different war" by Habib Battah, is a good analysis of what the difference in coverage is between the U.S. and the rest of the world.
"The images of two women on the front page of an edition of The Washington Post last week illustrates how mainstream US media has been reporting Israel's war on Gaza.
Arab frustration
To understand the frustration often felt in the Arab world over US media coverage, one only needs to imagine the same front page had the situation been reversed.
If an Israeli woman had lost five daughters in a Palestinian attack, would The Washington Post run an equally sized photograph of a relatively unharmed Palestinian woman, who was merely distraught over Israeli missile fire?
Monday, January 05, 2009
An old joke: The U.S. Embassy in Iraq has just opened
You know, the one costing over half a billion dollars and takes up forty acres? The joke is this: Why has the U.S. government never been overthrown? Because there isn't a U.S. embassy in Washington.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
The lie that Hamas violently seized power in Gaza from Fatah
It's being reported in every story in an attempt to de-legitimatize Hamas. The truth of the matter is that the Palestinian people elected Hamas as their government but Fatah, the moderate force that had possessed the government previously, refused to let Hamas be seated in the Palestinian Authority. They refused to accept a legally elected Hamas government and refused to give up power. This lead to clashes between Hamas and Fatah that culminated in Hamas taking over Gaza from Fatah by violent force, thereby letting the people who were elected gain control. Fatah still rules the West Bank. It's a different kind of seizure if you take something that's legally your but has been denied you by both your legal opposition, your occupier, and the international community.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Support your local terrorists: Friends of the Israeli Defense Forces
Your donations are tax deductible.
According to the Red Cross, combatants in occupied areas are legally recognized under international law
Meaning that Hamas has a legal right to resist Israeli incursions with comparable force as long as the force usage is not indiscriminate.
"Unlawful Combatants" in peace time are criminals, end of story
There has to be a real conflict for their to be unlawful combatants. You have to have combat to have either combatants who are lawful or combatants who aren't. If someone does something like 9/11 without the context being a war they have committed a crime but have not engaged in war. As such they should be tried as criminals and punished. Simple as that. Here's another example: if a group of people declares that they're fighting society, but have no popular support, and commit terrorist acts against people, they're supposed to be tried as criminals, not as combatants of any sort, because their actions and their group together don't qualify them as entities who can credibly initiate a war. There's a big difference between an entire army and Al Qaeda.
Friday, January 02, 2009
War according to John Locke
It's interesting in light of the current wars going on to consider what's regarded in Lockean theory as a state of war and what that implies. Basically, people are protected by their engaging in society. Their rights are safeguarded by the association known as society, which should exist not for plunder or expansion but to facilitate a peaceful existence. My rights balance yours and if you don't infringe on my rights I won't infringe on yours. I won't break into your home if you don't steal my car, because in the end mutual respect for rights benefits everyone. But if someone or some entity breaks away and declares war on society---and follows through on it--systematically violating those rights and disregarding them for their own purposes, then it's permissible to break certain peacetime rules in order to stop the violation of those rights. Once the threat is gone and rights are restored, the war should end, and it should always be defensive.
In a state of war, legally recognized combatants have certain rights that can't be ignored. It's not ok to murder people in society--in certain circumstances in war it is legal, although there still are rules, and consequently people who fight in war cannot be tried for murder. Which brings up, on a side note, the Bush administration's idea of "Unlawful Combatants". This is a legal fiction because there's no war that these people can be lawful combatants of. In normal practice unrecognized combatants receive much heavier penalties for actions engaged in war time, yet they still have human rights.
The idea of legally recognized combatants is that if someone declares war on you, or somehow you become involved in a war, you have a right to resist with comparable violence. Despite the pretensions of some liberal pacifist circles, resistance to invasion is recognized as completely legal and justifiable, no matter if you disapprove of it or not. Fighting should be conducted with the minimal of casualties and no atrocities because the goal is to restore some state of affairs where basic human rights can exist for the citizens of the society.
The fact is that pacifism is a luxury for the well off, and rich liberals---either literally rich or extraordinarily rich compared to the people of the third world--who crow about people doing largely low level resistance to invasion and assault, and complain about the rhetoric accompanying it, have no fucking clue what's actually goingon on the ground floor. They expect people who are being shot and bombed to kneel, pray, and engage in passive resistance, not wanting to confront their oppressors because that would be dirty or tainted in some way. If they don't hold hands and sing cumbaya while they're being slaughtered they're evil evil evil and are unworthy of sympathy--and of course an actual history of violent acts is grist for the mill. The sum total is a pile of lies that justify never being sympathetic to any struggle because no one is pure enough for you. No one is as pacifist as you want or as pretty as you want, they don't have the political rhetoric that you like, their organization is not what you'd put together (you think) . So you can't be in sympathy with them, even if they represent the will of the people, for better or for worse.
This thinking is ignorant of the real problems of war, of its seriousness, how things are different during a state of war, likely because they have never either directly or indirectly experienced it, or are even just unaware of history. It's unpopular because the Bush administration testosterone ball jockeys have commandeered it and used it to justify two invasions plus the illegal imprisonment of over a thousand people, but a state of war cannot be judged according to the standards of the regular, civil, world.
So what's the alternative, what's there if pure pacifism fails? Well, you know there have been meetings after meetings, treaty after treaty, and much ink spilled and much thinking applied to the problem of what's permissible and what's not during war. It's not like people have never considered the question.
End of ramble.
Polish slavery under the Nazis strangely omitted from American history
And I'm not using slavery euphemistically but in a literal sense. The Nazi plan for Poland and elsewhere was to establish slave labor plantations where the local population would belong to new German lords and would work for them. This plan was implemented. Here is a good article about it from, a site commemorating the Holocaust. The official term is Polish forced laborers. Here's an excerpt from the article, which is titled "The Question of the Polish Forced Labourer during and in the Aftermath of World War II: The Example of the Warthegau Forced Labourers"
"The group of Polish forced labourers with which I am familiar with come from the "Gau Wartheland", one of four administrative districts which the Nazis cut out of the part of Western Poland which they annected in l939. The "Warthegau", as many Nazis referred to this district, was a Nazi creation with little or no bearing on the historical realities of the region. It was to become an experimental laboratory, where the economic, cultural and social supremacy of the German people would inevitably lead to the extermination of all other indigenous peoples in the region (most Poles and all Jews).
In a complicated system of burocratically determined ethniticity, "Volksdeutsche" (Germans by descent, but not by citizenship) were to be segregated from the rest of the population. Jews were to be crowded into local and then consolidated regional gettos. Following the Wannsee Conference (January 20, l942), the Nazis planned the industrial murder of these and all other European Jews en masse. The Poles were to be used as an inexhaustible source of slave labour for the colonisation of this and other regions of Poland and were then to be eventually exterminated. Germans from all parts of Eastern and Western Europe were to be brought in to take their place in the biggest colonisation project ever planned in Europe.
While more than 360,000 Poles from this "Warthegau" were deported to other parts of Germany to do forced labour, many more Poles were made to do forced labour in their home country during World War II. How many is a question of definition: Who is a forced labourer in a war situation? Are all native workers in an occupied country "forced labourers"? Or are only those who are deported "forced labourers"? How does one define this concept? And how can one define this concept and still do justice to the victims of these horrendous crimes to humanity without overreaching the bounds of common sense? A reasonable educated guess is that somewhere around l to l l/2 Million Poles in this "Warthegau", above and beyond those who were deported, were engaged in some sort of forced labour in the course of the war. (The pre-war population in the region that became the "Warthegau" was around 4 Million.)"
So here we have the situation of millions of Poles not only in this area but in Poland as a whole facing forced labor including deportation to Germany itself as slave labor for German industry under the Nazis, yet here in the U.S.A. there's absolutely no recognition that this happened, or that it mattered.
It wasn't just Poland either. In the book "Hitler's Table Talk", a record of conversations (Hitler's part of them at least) that took place informally with the inner circle during the war, Hitler makes a comment that the schools in the Ukraine should all be shut down and Ukrainians only taught how to read road signs and other basics in order to help them serve their new masters.
Interestingly enough, even severe tragedies that happened during war time, that happen to be documented by top level foreign directors, don't make an impact. The film I'm talking about is "Katyn" by Andrzej Wajda. Wajda is possibly the most prominent film maker in post-World War II Poland. Katyn was a massacre of thousands of Polish Army officers by the Soviets in the area of Poland given to them under the Nazi-Soviet pact of '39. "Katyn" was released in 2007 and was nominated for an Academy Award. Yet although it's been released in Europe, and been available for some time, it's unavailable in the U.S. The only versions that have subtitles are European region DVDs that are being sold used on eBay. Strange treatment for an academy award nominated movie. I guess that the Polish Army victims at Katyn, one of which was Wajda's father, had the misfortune to be born Polish.
*on edit: ah, the actual number of people killed at Katyn is 21,768. From Wikipedia:
"The Katyn massacre, also known as the Katyn Forest massacre (Polish: zbrodnia katyńska, 'Katyń crime'), was a mass murder of thousands Polish military officers, policemen, intellectuals and civilian prisoners of war by Soviet NKVD, based on a proposal from Lavrentiy Beria to execute all members the Polish Officer Corps dated March 5 1940."
A fuller review of Valkyrie
Valkyrie is one of the best films to come out of America in a long time. The story is about the plot to assassinate Hitler executed by military commanders that was coupled with a full scale coup attempt, in which the entire SS headquarters was arrested. Hitler survived the bomb and the officers were arrested and shot, but they gained control of large parts of strategic points in Nazi Germany before they were stopped. I didn't know about the "Valkyrie", the overall coup attempt above and beyond the bomb, until I saw the movie.
It's a mystery why the film isn't being critically acclaimed. The direction is very good, the acting is very good, the writing is superb, and the cinematography is excellent. The only thing that isn't good in some people's books is that it portrays there being resistance to Hitler and to Naziism, and not just on the ground floor but in circles that were actually part of the Nazi military, and to a lesser extent the lower levels of the Nazi government in general. This cannot be said, or suggested. That Stauffenberg and company planned the coup so that the entire SS, the people who ran the death camps and the concentration camps, would be thrown out of power, thereby ending the concentration camp regime, also cannot be said. It's either one or the other, you're either with us or against us, and the fact that a great movie that involves moral ambiguity has been made doesn't change this simplistic paradigm; so it has to be condemned.
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LISTSERV Performance Comparison
Executive Summary
This document presents a series of tests comparing the respective performance of Majordomo, LISTSERV Lite, LISTSERV Classic and LISTSERV HPO (High Performance Option). Where these particular tests are concerned (see benchmark description below), the various products performed as follows:
• LISTSERV Lite was always at least an order of magnitude faster than Majordomo – even for small (100 subscriber) lists.
• LISTSERV Lite exhibited roughly the same scalability response as Majordomo. This means that, while LISTSERV Lite can handle lists an order of magnitude larger than Majordomo for a given level of performance, response time eventually degrades with the size of the list in about the same manner as with Majordomo.
• LISTSERV Classic's enhanced algorithms dramatically improved response time (one to two orders of magnitude better than LISTSERV Lite) up to the "turning point" in its scalability curve, after which it retained its lead over LISTSERV Lite but experienced degraded performance.
• LISTSERV HPO's state of the art algorithms delivered optimal performance with a near flat scalability curve all throughout the test.
There is no standardized benchmark suite for mailing list managers (such as the TPC or SPEC benchmarks), nor is there any informal benchmark against which to measure this type of product. Due to their nature, mailing list managers are very difficult to compare to each other. To list but two of the most widely known obstacles:
• Mailing list managers that offer a web interface or database functions (with online browsing and searching capabilities) usually require more system resources for a given set of lists than "bare" list managers. This is because the "bare" list managers are less functional and more difficult to use for novice users, and thus receive a smaller number of simpler end-user requests, ultimately trading cheap computer power for expensive manpower. While this is a business consideration rather than a technical issue, it makes it difficult to benchmark list managers in different weight classes against each other. These cross-class benchmarks, however, are the ones for which there is the biggest demand.
• Even on a system dedicated to mailing lists, the response time that end-users see depends on overall system performance, and not just on the performance of individual components. In particular, some packages commonly used to implement mailing lists (Majordomo, sendmail, etc.) create large numbers of processes, which can dramatically impact overall system performance. This in turn varies with the particular operating system being used and with the system administrator's skills. The person running the benchmarks can easily skew the results of any live workload simulation by selecting a particular operating system over another, or by applying varying degrees of skill to operating system tuning, without touching the product being benchmarked. In some extreme cases, it is the operating system rather than the list management software which is being benchmarked.
Benchmark Description
In this document, we have used a simple benchmark, which has no other ambition than to give a rough idea of the capabilities of the various products being compared. Randomly generated mailing lists with increasing numbers of subscribers are created on the various mailing list managers, after which a single mail message is sent with a request to add 100 new users to the list. The products are configured or modified to suppress the delivery of any email confirmation to the new subscribers, as this would test the mail server rather than the mailing list manager. The benchmark measures the elapsed time for the completion of the 100 additions, on a dedicated system with no other activity. The test is run using a single process that fits entirely in physical storage; given the nature of the test, no operating system tuning is required to obtain good (nominal) performance, and none is allowed.
Test System
The test system we chose is a Sun SS5 running Solaris 2.5.1. The inclusion of Majordomo in the test required the use of a Unix system, and we chose Solaris because it is (as of this writing) the most popular Unix system among LISTSERV users. We decided to run the benchmark on a workstation system as this is what all but a handful of sites use for their mailing list workloads. The SS5 was chosen because we had convenient access to this machine and because it also happens to be the most popular system among Solaris LISTSERV users. In principle, a workstation with a faster CPU would result in lower absolute numbers with the same kind of pattern. A quick, partial test on a SS20 confirmed this.
The test was run using Majordomo 1.94.3 and LISTSERV version 1.8c (23 May 97 build). Note that the test works to Majordomo's advantage as LISTSERV maintains per-subscriber attributes and has more processing to do (default option rules, etc.) and much larger list files than Majordomo (due to the per-subscriber attributes). For this particular test, the LISTSERV list files were 5.5 times larger than Majordomo's. Finally, LISTSERV generally had more work to do in order to apply its more extensive security and access control functions, hostname aliasing for list lookup operations, and so forth – all features which, while useful, increase resource costs.
Majordomo vs LISTSERV Lite
We first ran the benchmark with list sizes of 1,000, 10,000 and 100,000 subscribers, for a coarse scalability comparison. The execution times (for 100 ADD requests) were as follows:
Performance graph
The ratio between Majordomo and LISTSERV Lite varied from 12:1 to 18:1. This is consistent with empirical observations and confirms the order of magnitude difference in performance between the two products. As expected, LISTSERV Classic and HPO outperformed Lite by a large factor, although it is difficult to see on this chart.
Since most Lite customers run smaller lists, we then took a closer look at the low end of the scale:
Performance graph
Even here, LISTSERV Lite outperforms Majordomo 15:1. The hashed red bar corresponds to a 100 subscriber list running under Majordomo, and even at this level Majordomo took 5.7 times longer than LISTSERV Lite did with 10 times as many subscribers. The threshold for sub-second response time is somewhat below 100 subscribers for Majordomo, and well above 1,000 subscribers for LISTSERV Lite. Classic and HPO are not visible on this chart.
Having determined that Majordomo was not in the same performance range as the LISTSERV products, we removed it from the chart in order to take a closer look at the other results:
Performance graph
Although not quite as dramatic as the Majordomo vs Lite chart, we clearly have a repeat of the same situation, with the Lite execution time increasing in a straight line. This is called "linear growth" and means that it will take LISTSERV Lite (or Majordomo) 10 times longer to run the benchmark on a list with 10 times as many subscribers. While you may have heard the term "linear growth" used to refer to an ideal growth curve, in this context it is more like a worst-case scenario. The problem is that, if you have 10 times as many subscribers, you can expect your list manager to receive 10 times as many commands. If each of these commands then takes 10 times longer to execute, you will need 100 times more processing power. This is called "n2 growth" or, in plain English, "bad news".
This being said, "bad news" is relative. After all, 100 times 0.0001 second is 0.01 second, and 100 times that is 1 second. If the list manager is fast to begin with, you can afford to take this factor of 100 hit once, or maybe even twice. In the present case, if your goal is a response time of roughly one second for a SUBSCRIBE request, LISTSERV Lite will deliver that with up to 10,000 subscribers. And if your list grows slowly, you may be able to upgrade your hardware from time to time to keep up with the growth rate. On the other hand, if your 10,000 subscriber newsletter becomes the most popular hit on the Internet, you will have a problem.
As a rule, L-Soft does not recommend the use of the Lite version with lists of significantly more than 1,000 subscribers. But this is a quality of service issue, and it is ultimately up to you to decide where to draw the line. For instance, if the subscribers are paying customers, you will probably want to offer a higher level of service than if you were running the list as a favor to a friend.
Looking at the previous chart, one had the impression that the Classic version was again going to look like Majordomo once magnified, and that Classic was just going to be 10 times faster, being able to service a 100,000 subscriber list with a response time of about one second vs 10,000 for Lite. Well, let's zoom in and see what the two remaining curves look like:
Performance graph
From a distance, this does indeed look like a somewhat more bumpy repeat of the Majordomo curve, but notice the turning points at the 10,000 and 30,000 subscriber marks (there is actually a third and even sharper turning point at the 3,000 mark, but we would need to zoom in again to see it). These turning points correspond to optimizations that successively "give up" and stop "flattening" the curve.
Up until 3,000 subscribers, the curve is nearly flat, and the absolute numbers so low that performance is already optimal (it hardly matters if a command takes 0.001 or 0.01 second to execute). This corresponded roughly to the size of the largest active lists when the development of the HPO version began in 1994 (and this remains the case to date). Having provided optimal performance for all likely active lists, the first optimization, which would be too memory intensive for large lists, becomes more resource conscious and allows performance to degrade somewhat in the interest of conserving memory. Even in this constrained mode, the optimization remains effective, to a lesser extent, for another factor of 3 or so (i.e. roughly until the 10,000 mark). A number of other optimizations either give up or reach their design limits at various points between, very roughly, 5,000 and 30,000 subscribers, depending on operating system, hardware, etc. The combination of these effects leads to the turning point near the 10,000 mark. We believe the 30,000 turning point to be due to operating system considerations (disk caching, etc.) It was not present in another series of tests made on a different operating system.
All throughout the test, the HPO curve was almost completely flat (0.089 sec at 1,000 vs 0.122 at 100,000 – or about 0.001 sec per added subscriber). The HPO version uses advanced algorithms that scale effortlessly to much larger lists and is ideally suited to very large lists.
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[vox-tech] 10 year old monitor finally died
[vox-tech] 10 year old monitor finally died
I knew it was going but thought I had a little bit more time. Bought new monitor (Samsung syncmaster 203b) and am worried about starting debian on old monitor settings. Will things auto detect? How bout the nvidia video card I just installed?
If no auto detect can I edit some files w/o booting into kde first? I do know what the horizontal and vertical refresh rates are so I'm not going into this blind.
I would usually just wipe out my hard drive but I have gotton so very far with my wifi card and kernel update (2.6). There should be an easy way but alas, I am linux newb. Can someone give me some pointers?
Funny, I hooked up my monitor, added a different video card, used my wife's hard drive to go into another os and dam if the hdd didn't start clicking loud. I also noticed very low performance as well. So I did what any mechanic would do. Took it out and tapped on the bottom side of it (dockable drive makes this very easy to do). Installed and rebooted...wala, fixed it. Wonder if there is some sort of mainatenance that should be done to these things such as lubricating the moving parts or cleaning, etc, etc, etc.
Going to google for answers. Been doing that a lot lately.
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Yeah, yeah, uh, aye! What the fuck I gotta worry about now?
Nah nigga.. I'ma motherfuckin' win
Nigga if all this shit go out the window right now man
I'm all too familiar with this shit
My nigga I'm straight ya dig? Please believe that shit man. Hey! {*echoes*}
[Chorus I: T.I.]
And I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt... hey shawty I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt
Let me fill up my Impala, boy holla at my partners
And I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt... hey shawty I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt
Had a hundred ones, I bought a slab flipped another one
Hey wait bruh, bet any nigga came from that?
[Chorus II: T.I.]
Just gimme some cocaine and some wood I can slang
And I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt... hey shawty I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt
Well-known in the town that I'm holdin' it down
So I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt... hey shawty I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt
You can check my track record, I'm highly respected
I'ma gangsta in the game, go ask Lil' Wayne
Ask Judge Johnson, how many times he saw my face
Betta ask Rank, I ran the jail when I was there
I held it down, where-ever I go
But that's nuttin, everybody say they gotta story
I guarantee +The Heart of the Streetz+ that you pray
[Chorus I]
[Young Jeezy]
Snowman bitch (bitch), I ride two-seaters (vroom!!)
I'm straaaiiiggghhhttt, you betta ask somebody (body)
Matter fact nigga you can just ask me (me)
A little over aggressive, yeah I just might be
You wonder why a nigga talk eight balls all day?
Fuck bein' broke, this a reality check (check)
[Chorus II]
[Pimp see - talking after song ends]
Say what it do? Young Pimp see know what I'm talkin 'bout?
Yeah, nigga want me to speak on some "king" shit, know what I'm sayin'?
On the cool why'know.. young nigga T.I. jumped out there
Said he was the king of the south
He ruffled a whole lotta niggaz' feathers
But niggaz didn't really understand what the nigga was talkin 'bout
Why'know.. and uh.. so everybody had it twisted but..
Me I understood from the get go
That what the nigga was tryin' to put
In these motherfuckin' stupid ass niggaz' faces!!
Was the fact that it's a whole bunch of kings down here
And as long as you takin' care of yo' business and doin' king shit you a king!
And get some understandin' about the type of game
He was tryin' to put in these motherfuckin' niggaz' ear holes!
Understand what I'm sayin'?
Know what I'm talkin 'bout?
'Cause they motherfuckin' paper ain't right
They shit ain't cut right, ya shit ain't right!
Shit cloudy and chipped up, know what I'm talkin 'bout?
And them niggaz talkin 'bout they "trill niggaz"
Don't even know what the motherfuckin' word mean!
All you ol' BITCH ASS NIGGAS that ain't down wit' the play
You niggaz flabby, lookin' like Larry Holmes
BACK YO' BITCH ASS UP!! And, and, and, and move around for the South
Now let's do this shit!
Correct | Mail | Print | Vote
I'm Straight Lyrics
T.i. – I'm Straight Lyrics
I'm Straight lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing, ABOOD MUSIC LTD.
Lyrics term of use
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Alicia Keys — I Won't lyrics
I cross the driest desert
Just so that I can get to you
If I couldn't find you there
What in the world am I to do
Cause I won't lie
And I won't deceive you
So can't we try
To make it just like once we dream
[ Lyrics from: ]
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You are here
A Math Toolkit for Java Developers
Joe Yanik
The JOMA Developers' Area can provide a real service to the mathematical developer community by
1. providing a single source that developers can go to in search of code that they can use and
2. encouraging developers to create code in a way that would be the most useful.
The first step in this process is to generate a discussion about how this should take place. I would like to launch that discussion by sharing some thoughts about what developers can do to make their code most useful to others and by offering my own vision of one direction that this might take. Finally, I will describe a prototype that I have developed. In short, I propose a coordinated effort by developers to construct a Math Toolkit that would provide, in a single download, Java files that could be used to accomplish most of the common tasks required by mathematical Java developers.
The Problem
Almost anyone who attempts to learn Java for the purpose of teaching mathematics encounters a familiar set of challenges. First, there is the chore of learning the language itself. This can be a daunting task, particularly for those who are unfamiliar with the object-oriented paradigm that was embraced so enthusiastically by the creators of Java. The second challenge is becoming familiar with the vast libraries that come with Java. These contain some very powerful and well-documented tools, but it requires a bit of background to be able to use them correctly.
In addition to these challenges, though, mathematicians face some special obstacles. The first one is encountered very early: It is the problem of allowing for numerical input by the user. The fact that all input comes in the form of a String of characters that must be converted into a numerical data type can be a troublesome inconvenience when trying to write even the simplest mathematics program. Java does provide (literally!) methods for doing this when the String represents a number, but that doesn't solve the problem of allowing for numerical expressions such as "3*4" or "Pi^2".
The second obstacle encountered by almost every mathematical developer is the problem of displaying graphs. Again, there are some useful tools built into the language, but it is soon clear that they were not designed with mathematicians in mind. For example, there is a coordinate system, but, as with other programming languages, the coordinates are in pixel units, which means that all coordinates must be integers. As if that weren't enough of an outrage, the y-axis is upside down and the origin is in the upper left hand corner!
When faced with these and other obstacles, some mathematicians relish the challenge and take this as an opportunity to delve deeply into the Java programming language in order to come up with individual solutions. Others search far and wide for Java code that they can copy into their own programs. I fear that there may be still others who give up entirely.
What we need is a library of tools that can be used by both novice and experienced programmers to overcome these and other obstacles. There are plenty of tools out there, but JOMA can provide a real service by organizing them in a centralized location and by helping developers to construct these tools in a manner that will make them easier to use.
Java Component Technology
What are some of the considerations for constructing reusable software? The best example of reusable software is provided by Sun. Consider the components that come with the Java Development Kit, such as the TextField or the Panel (or the Swing versions JTextField and JPanel). Sun has obviously put a lot of thought into their construction. They share a number of different characteristics.
1. They are versatile.
2. They are well documented.
3. It is not necessary to read the source code in order to use them -- all interaction is done with well-documented methods.
To achieve the same goals with mathematical components, it will be necessary to anticipate future uses of them as they are being designed. However, it is important that any single component not try to do too much. For example, in my opinion, a graphing calculator would not be an appropriate component -- it does too much. In the object-oriented spirit, it would be better to split the graphing calculator concept into its separate objects and design components to model each one. There should be something to play the role of the display screen, some way to provide input, and some way to do the computation. Those are all separate tasks and should be performed by separate components. Each of these components could then be used in other applications that didn't require all the power of a graphing calculator.
Finally, there is one other characteristic that many of Sun's components share: They are compatible with all visual development environments. This means, for example, that most of the properties of the components can be adjusted at design time by making entries into a property list. It also means that they can be manipulated with a drag-and-drop interface, and their dimensions can be adjusted with a mouse. Our mathematical components can achieve this by conforming to the JavaBeans standard. Chung and Digiano, in a future article in JOMA, will discuss the JavaBeans standard. In order to be the most useful, I would propose that most -- but not all -- mathematical components be JavaBeans.
Which components should be JavaBeans? Basically, a component should be a JavaBean if it would be useful to manipulate it using the tools of a visual development environment. This would be true for almost any visual component (such as a Panel or a TextArea), but it might also be true for non-visual components which might have properties that could be adjusted using the property list of the development environment. For example, in the MathToolkit discussed below there is a SymbolicFunction class that defines a function according to a formula. While this is an invisible component, it is a JavaBean because it is convenient to enter the formula from the property list. (There is actually another advantage: By making it a JavaBean, it can easily be added as a property to other JavaBeans, such as a table or a graph.) On the other hand, an equation parser, while a useful component, would not make a good JavaBean, because it is not visual and does not have any properties that need to be adjusted using the property list.
A Unified Vision
If we accept that there is a need for reusable mathematical components, what is the best way to achieve this, and how can JOMA help? One possibility is to allow JOMA to serve as a marketplace for a wide variety of components with developers submitting them for review just as they do with Mathlets. This can easily be done and probably should be done. However, I have a proposal for an effort that could take place in parallel with this. My proposal is that we set up an open-source collaborative effort to construct a single Mathematics Toolkit that would contain one or more packages of components and files that would serve the most common needs of mathematical Java Developers. There are a number of advantages to this approach. Before discussing them it may be useful to see an illustration. In a joint project with Chuck Pheatt, funded by an NSF grant (DUE-9950714), I have developed a prototype for such a toolkit. (Almost all the components in the toolkit are based on Swing components so, in order to view the applet, you will need to make sure that your browser is Swing compliant.)
Demonstration of some MathToolkit Components
In addition to the components in the demonstration, the MathToolkit contains a number of other components, including a FunctionTable and a ParametricTable, that are similar to the MathTable except that they accept as properties one or more functions or parametric equations and display the values on a table. There are beans that facilitate the creation of parametric curves for display on the MathGrapher and one that creates a random piecewise linear function that is useful for constructing examples. Other beans aid in the construction of secant lines and tangent lines for curves. MathToolkitZip contains the MathToolkit, documentation, source code, and tutorials for using it with JBuilder.
One of the advantages of having such a toolkit is that, in one download, the developer can get tools for accomplishing the most common tasks with an assurance that they will all be compatible with one another. In addition, by putting everything into one jar file it is possible to avoid duplication of efforts. For example, the MathToolkit contains a MathUtility class that contains a number of static methods used by many of the components, and the MathTextField is used in a number of the components.
By coordinating the construction of the components it will be possible to provide a consistent appearance across all components. Finally, if the MathToolkit should achieve the level of a standard, the very fact that many developers use it extensively would give some assurance of reliability.
If the development of the Mathematics Toolkit is done in parallel with the submission of individual components, some of the best of those could be considered for incorporation into the Toolkit.
I'm sure that there are others who have developed similar tools, and I am not suggesting that mine is the best. For example, some might argue that the reliance on Swing components is a drawback for the moment. What I am suggesting is that such an effort is worthwhile, and we should begin a discussion on how to achieve it.
Joe Yanik, "A Math Toolkit for Java Developers," Loci (November 2004)
Journal of Online Mathematics and its Applications
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September 10th iPhone Event: All the Other Stuff
Today's iPhone event was short and to the point. Instead of introducing handfuls of new products and apps, we were presented with a quick iOS 7 overview of what was already announced at WWDC, some iWork and app updates (more on that in a second), and then the iPhones themselves alongside accompanying cases. Honestly, this made for one of the most satisfying iPhone events in ages.
Before introducing the iPhone 5c and the iPhone 5s, Apple did its best to reiterate that iOS is capable of doing actual work, highlighting the iWork suite of apps such as Keynote, Numbers, and Pages, while also touching on iMovie and iPhoto. Apple will be making these apps free on the App Store after September 1st for qualifying iOS devices, which includes the latest iPod touch, the latest iPads, the iPhone 5c, and the iPhone 5s. At the event, Tim Cook stated that you'd be given the option to download these apps during the device's initial setup.
Update 8:00 pm: Any iOS 7 compatible device activated after September 1st is eligible for these free app downloads.
Back around to iPhones, the iPhone 4s is now free ($450 off contract), and comes with 8 GB of storage.
Next there are individual docks for the iPhone 5s and the iPhone 5c (like there are for iPads). Unfortunately, it doesn't look like Apple will continue making adapters for the Universal Dock. A Lightning cable isn't included, so you'll have to use the one that comes with your phone or purchase one separately. Lastly, these docks can't be used if you have a case on your iPhone.
There's now a space gray iPod touchiPod nano, and iPod shuffle. Looks like all of the previous slate colors are going away.
Lastly there's the latest updates to AppleCare+. When your purchase a new iPhone, you're given one year of hardware repair coverage with the included limited warranty, and 90 days of phone support. For $99, AppleCare+ extends the repair coverage and phone support to two years, while also setting a flat rate for accidental repair. Accidental repair covers things like dropping your phone on the ground and cracking the glass, or exposing it to liquids. Previously $49, the new accidental repair rates are $79, and will cover two incidents during those two years. AppleCare+ must be purchased within 30 days of a new iPhone purchase.
Update 6:00 pm: Macworld notes that AppleCare+ is also now available for the iPod touch, with coverage costing $59 and the repair fee costing $29. In an additional tidbit, the iPhone's plan does not include headphones, whereas the iPod touch's does.
AppleCare+ is also now available in three more countries: France, Italy, and the United Kingdom. The service costs €99 in greater Europe, and £79 in the UK.
And yes, iPhone 4s, iPhone 5c, and iPhone 5s all have lowercase letters.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51219
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Therubali To Pundhag Trains
Following is the list of all the trains running between Therubali to Pundhag Railway Stations:
13352 Dhanbad Express Therubali 19:35 Pundhag 10:54 Y Y Y Y Y Y Y
Therubali to Pundhag Train Tickets | Railway Reservation | Book Online
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51225
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as far as i am concerned, i only have two addictive problem behaviours left.
marijuana and masturbation.
i know, in my heart, from decades of repetition, they are not healthy for me.
i always feel better when i abstain, i always feel worse after i indulge. yet, i am unable to maintain total abstinence, because the secret part of me feeds on the pure pleasure.
that is the confusing nature of addiction.
i know, without doubt, that these activities are a betrayal of all i hold sacred. my marriage, my family, my faith.
i cannot eliminate or avoid temptation, only resist it.
there are no physical solutions to spiritual problems.
Romans 7:19 "For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing." - apostle Paul
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51227
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[edit] FAQ:ROMs
Return to the main Frequently Asked Questions page.
Disclaimer: The following information is not legal advice and was not written by a lawyer.
[edit] Why does MAME report "missing files" even if I have the ROMs?
There can be several reasons for this:
• It is not unusual for the ROMs to change for a game between releases of MAME. Why would this happen? Oftentimes, better or more complete ROM dumps are made, or errors are found in the way the ROMs were previously defined. Early versions of MAME were not as meticulous about this issue, but more recent MAME builds are. Additionally, there can be more features of a game emulated in a later release of MAME than an earlier release, requiring more ROM code to run.
• You may find that some games require CHD files. A CHD file is a compressed representation of a game's hard disk, CD-ROM, or laserdisc, and is generally not included as part of a game's ROMs. However, in most cases, these files are required to run the game, and MAME will complain if they cannot be found.
• Some games such as Neo-Geo, Playchoice-10, Convertible Video System, Deco Cassette, MegaTech, MegaPlay, ST-V Titan, and others need their BIOS ROMs in addition to the game ROMs. The BIOS Roms often contain ROM code that is used for booting the machine, menu processor code on multi-game systems, and code common to all games on a system. BIOS ROMS must be named correctly and left zipped inside your ROMs folder.
• Older versions of MAME needed decryption tables in order for MAME to emulate Capcom Play System 2 (a.k.a. CPS2) games. These are created by team CPS2Shock.
• Some games in MAME are considered "Clones" of another game. This is often the case when the game in question is simply an alternate version of the same game. Common alternate versions of games include versions with text in other languages, versions with different copyright dates, later versions or updates, bootlegs, etc. "Cloned" games often overlap some of the ROM code as the original or "parent" version of the game. To see if you have any "clones" type "MAME -listclones". To run a "cloned game" you simply need to place its parent ROM file in your ROMs folder (leave it zipped).
[edit] How can I be sure I have the right ROMs?
MAME checks to be sure you have the right ROMs before emulation begins. If you see any error messages, your ROMs are not those tested to work properly with MAME. You will need to obtain a correct set of ROMs through legal methods.
If you have several games and you wish to verify that they are compatible with the current version of MAME, you can use the -verifyroms parameter. For example:
mame -verifyroms robby
...checks your ROMs for the game Robby Roto and displays the results on the screen.
mame -verifyroms * >verify.txt
...checks the validity of ALL the ROMs in your ROMS directory, and writes the results to a textfile called verify.txt.
[edit] How do I legally obtain ROMs or disk images to run on MAME?
You have several options:
Beyond these options, you are on your own.
[edit] Isn't copying ROMs a legal gray area?
No, it's not. You are not permitted to make copies of software without the copyright owner's permission. This is a black & white issue.
[edit] Can't game ROMs be considered abandonware?
No. Even the companies that went under had their assets purchased by somebody, and that person is the copyright owner.
[edit] I had ROMs that worked with an old version of MAME and now they don't. What happened?
As time passes, MAME is perfecting the emulation of older games, even when the results aren't immediately obvious to the user. Often times the better emulation requires more data from the original game to operate. Sometimes the data was overlooked, sometimes it simply wasn't feasible to get at it (for instance, chip "decapping" is a technique that only became affordable very recently for people not working in high-end laboratories). In other cases it's much simpler: more sets of a game were dumped and it was decided to change which sets were which version.
[edit] What about those arcade cabinets on eBay that come with all the ROMs?
If the seller does not have a proper license to include the ROMs with his system, he is not allowed to legally include any ROMs with his system. If he has purchased a license to the ROMs in your name from a distributor or vendor with legitimate licenses, then he is okay to include them with the cabinet. After signing an agreement, cabinet owners that include legitimate licensed ROMs may be permitted to include a version of MAME that runs those ROMs and nothing more.
[edit] What about those guys who burn DVDs of ROMs for the price of the media?
What they are doing is just as illegal as selling the ROMs outright. As long as somebody owns the copyright, making illegal copies is illegal, period. If someone went on the internet and started a business of selling cheap copies of the latest U2 album for the price of media, do you think they would get away with it?
Even worse, a lot of these folks like to claim that they are helping the project. In fact, they only create more problems for the MAME team. We are not associated with these people in any way regardless of how "official" they may attempt to appear. You are only helping criminals make a profit through selling software they have no right to sell. Anybody using the MAME name and/or logo to sell such products is also in violation of the MAME trademark.
[edit] But isn't there a special DMCA exemption that makes ROM copying legal?
No, you have misread the exemptions. The exemption allows people to reverse engineer the copy protection or encryption in computer programs that are obsolete. The exemption simply means that figuring out how these obsolete programs worked is not illegal according to the DMCA. It does not have any effect on the legality of violating the copyright on computer programs, which is what you are doing if you make copies of ROMs.
[edit] But isn't it OK to download and "try" ROMs for 24 hours?
This is an urban legend that was made up by people who put ROMs up for download on their sites, in order to justify the fact that they were breaking the law. There is nothing like this in any copyright law.
[edit] If I buy a cabinet with legitimate ROMs, can I set it up in a public place to make money?
Absolutely not. Not only is it against the MAME license to use MAME for commercial purposes, but ROMs are typically only licensed for personal, non-commercial purposes.
[edit] But I've seen Ultracade and Global VR Classics cabinets out in public places? Why can they do it?
Ultracade had two separate products. The Ultracade product is a commercial machine with commercial licenses to the games. These machines were designed to be put on location and make money, like traditional arcade machines. Their other product is the Arcade Legends series. These are home machines with non- commercial licenses for the games, and can only be legally operated in a private environment. Since their buyout by Global VR they only offer the Global VR Classics cabinet, which is equivalent to the earlier Ultracade product.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51231
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Package name
Advisory ID
Affected versions
7.0 i586 , 7.1 i586
Problem description
Regarding our previous announcement of MDKSA-2000:057, after discussion with the authors of openssh, we have removed the updates for 7.0 and 7.1. The authors are still investigating to see if scp is in fact vulnerability to the problems discussed recently on Bugtraq. Removing the setuid bit from the ssh program does not prevent scp from creating setuid files. The setuid bit is necessary for certain authentication methods and removing the setuid bit disables rhosts-rsa and the old rhosts authentication, the former of which is widely used. Our apologies for making the previous pre-mature announcement and perhaps causing the problem to seem larger than it may actually be.
Updated packages
7.0 i586
na 7.0/RPMS/na
7.1 i586
na 7.1/RPMS/na
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51273
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Marbled Easter Cookies
What a delight to find that the Easter Bunny has left frosted cookies to match the Marbleized Easter Eggs. With icing, you can swirl the surface, stretch polka dots into flourishes, or drag stripes into ogee curves.
To make the cookies, use your favorite Easter cookie cutters and our Flower Sugar Cookies recipe; frost with Royal Icing
• Skewer
• Piping bag
• Icing
1. Step 1
Outline cookie; pipe squiggles inside.
2. Step 2
Cover half of remaining area in a second color.
3. Step 3
Fill in completely with a third shade.
4. Step 4
Run skewer through the speckles.
5. Step 5
Ice bunny and egg cookies.
6. Step 6
Pipe dots or stripes in another color.
7. Step 7
Drag skewer through the the dots or stripes to create a marbled pattern.
Martha Stewart Living, April 2003
Reviews (2)
• 7 Mar, 2014
What I'd really like to have is the recipe for the chocolate rolled cookies. :D
• 24 Apr, 2011
When marbleizing the cookies, they look great even if they aren't perfect. I gave my 3, 6, 8, and 10 year old boys toothpicks and they did all the decorating. They preferred the marbleizing to squirting on the frosting, so I frosted them and then they took over. The bunnies were gorgeous and we shared one with each guest at Easter as well as the boys' teachers. Beautiful.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51275
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Martial Development
Martial arts for personal development
The Snake and the Angry Swami: A Cautionary Tale
April 12th, 2010 · 2 Comments
Rolling Thunder
The following short story was excerpted from Rolling Thunder: A Personal Exploration into the Secret Healing Powers of an American Indian Medicine Man. In this section, Doug Boyd sits by the campfire with Rolling Thunder, sharing stories he heard from other spiritual teachers.
On the train to Brindavan a Swami sits beside a common man who asks him if indeed he has attained self-mastery, as the name “Swami” implies.
“I have,” says the Swami.
“And have you mastered anger?”
“I have.”
“You mean you can control your anger?”
“I can.”
“And you do not feel anger?”
“I do not.”
“Is this the truth, Swami?”
“It is.”
After a silence the man asks again, “Do you really feel that you have controlled your anger?”
“I have, as I told you,” the Swami answers.
“Then do you mean to say, you never feel anger, even–”
“You are going on and on–what do you want?” the Swami shouts.
[
Bleeding, Brainwaves and Biofeedback
July 27th, 2009 · 18 Comments
Beyond Biofeedback
Excerpted from Beyond Biofeedback, a record of Elmer and Alyce Green’s research on theta brainwave training, which they describe as an accelerated form of meditation.
When Jack Schwarz was in his early teens, he saw a stage hypnotist enter a self-induced trance and then push pins into his arm while he talked about the power of mind to control pain and bleeding. Jack had the normal response to pain until he saw that demonstration, and then, for no particular reason, he knew that he would be able to do the same thing. He got some pins and tried it, and sure enough he could turn pain off. What a conversation piece, he thought.
Jack said that at first he never tired of amazing his friends. He developed a cocky attitude, in spite of the fact that he had not had to develop his skills, but “woke up one morning and found all the diplomas were on the wall.” He could stop pain, stop bleeding, influence people through hypnosis, remove pains in other people by putting his hands on them and thinking about the pain going away, and could often “guess” other people’s thoughts precisely.
We did not make a focused effort to interrogate Jack when we began the laboratory work. As with Swami Rama, we asked him to tell us what he would like to demonstrate. Dale and Alyce wired him in the same way we prepared college-student subjects in other research. When he sat down in the experimental room he produced an envelope with two 6-inch steel sailmaker’s needles. [Read more →]
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51280
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Human Factors and Usability in Medical Devices
Provided by:
Regulatory and Clinical Research Institute, Inc. (RCRI, Inc.)
Human Factors Engineering (HFE), also known as usability engineering or ergonomics, is the study of how humans interact with machines and complex systems. As medical devices are becoming more complex human factors considerations are becoming more complex, this paper looks at some of the critical factors in helping medical device companies reduce human error in designing medical equipment.
Download library item
Built on an AdaptiveTheme using Drupal by Michael Knapp mknapp
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51289
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Course MAT427
Ordinary Differential Equations
(Replaces MAT303 beginning AY 2012-13)
The course concerns explicit solution of simple differential equations. Methods of proving that one has found all the solutions are discussed. For this purpose, a brief review of foundational concepts in real analysis is provided. The second part concerns explicit solutions of simultaneous linear differential equations with constant coefficients, a topic closely connected with linear algebra (assumed prerequisite knowledge). The third part concerns the proof of the basic existence and uniqueness theorem for ordinary differential equations. Students will do simple proofs.
Linear equations with constant coefficients, the Laplace transform, separation and comparison theorems, power series solutions, matrix methods, and stability theorems.
Mid Term Exam - 30%
Final Exam - 50%
Quizzes - 10%
Problem set(s) - 10%
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51290
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Discover MakerZone
MATLAB and Simulink resources for Arduino, LEGO, and Raspberry Pi
Learn more
Discover what MATLAB® can do for your career.
Opportunities for recent engineering grads.
Apply Today
stable approximation of (1/cosx)
Asked by surya on 30 Sep 2013
Latest activity Answered by Jan Simon on 30 Sep 2013
I'm trying to simulate a function that has a 1/cos(x) term. The value of 1/cos(x) tends to infinity as cos(x) approaches zero. Is there any way to smoothly approximate this function in order to avoid the jumps around pi/2 neighborhood? I'm looking for some sort of smoothing, but in real-time. Please help.
1 Answer
Answer by Jan Simon on 30 Sep 2013
The function 1/cos(x) goes to infinity for |cos(x) -> 0|. There is absolutely no way to "smooth" this away. The results would be wrong from the view point of mathematical correctness. Even "real-time" is not the problem here.
If you have any good reason why the pole does not appear in the physical system (or what ever this formula describes), please mention it here.
Jan Simon
Contact us
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51302
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Breast cancer staging
The stage of breast cancer, along with its type, determines treatment options. Here's a summary of factors considered in breast cancer staging. By Mayo Clinic Staff
Information that helps determine your breast cancer stage
Your doctor determines your breast cancer stage by considering:
• The size of your tumor
• Whether cancer cells have spread to other parts of your body
Feb. 17, 2012 See more In-depth
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51310
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The Best Issue Tracker on the Web, Coming Soon to Your Mac
Posted on the 31/07/2008 at 06:39 PM
I love Lighthouse. Since I was introduced to it in March last year it has been my favourite web app. Up until that point I'd been using a set of Omni Outliner documents. Now these worked quite well for a while, but I soon began to outgrow them and started looking at dedicated issue trackers.
I looked at the usual suspects: Trac, FogBugz, Mantis, Jira etc. None of them really clicked with me, they seemed to do too much or have overly complicated UIs. Lighthouse was different, it was designed to be simple. It didn't try to be everything to everyone like some of the above. It let you file tickets, assign them to someone and then work your way through them. And most of all, it had an incredibly well designed UI.
Of course, I'm not exactly the biggest fan of web apps. They're fine to use occasionally, but when it's something you're working with all day it's frustrating to either have to keep logging in, or at least keep a Safari window open. Luckily the Lighthouse developers provided a pretty comprehensive API so I thought that I'd set about making a desktop client to get around this.
That was in March 2007. In July 2008 I'm finally able to declare that M Cubed's 3rd application is now in beta testing. Say hello to Lighthouse Keeper:
Lighthouse Keeper's main window
The road has been long and extremely rocky. I've completely scrapped and started over 3 times and then completely took the app in an entirely different direction requiring a massive re-write. In fact, just over 2 months ago I was ready to give up on Lighthouse Keeper until after the Summer when my latest attempt failed.
So why has it been so hard? Well simply, there was no really clear metaphor for a ticket in my head. I had an initial idea of just allowing you to search, view and add tickets. Most of the iterations revolved around that. I also had a bad case of trying to generalise things too early on. I was trying to build a framework and then make an application using that, rather than the other way around.
My mind got stuck in this idea that all I needed to do was have a small menu bar app that let you search and add tickets. The problem is that the resulting application kept getting too complicated. Then on my 3rd re-write I decided to do a lot more, to offer more way to search and view data and to handle ticket bins and milestones. Things started to come together, but they were still incredibly complicated.
Lighthouse Keeper
Lighthouse Keeper circa April 2008
It's amazing how easy it is to get stuck into believing something is right if you work at it for long enough. I actually spent several months believing that the above screenshot represented the best UI for Lighthouse Keeper. Then I took a few weeks off to work on some other projects and when I came back I saw the project with new eyes. It was awful.
Luckily I finally came up with a viable metaphor for tickets: email. If you think of a ticket as an email then you start to view the app as an email client of sorts. So with a sharp turn of the development steering wheel I did a U turn and started to re-design the UI. The one bit of good design to come out of the previous iteration was the code that talked to the Lighthouse API. It was very solid and self contained enough for me to completely rebuild the UI while always having a semi working application.
It is a testament to the power of Cocoa that I was able to completely change how my application functions and re-write it in just 2 months. The resulting UI is one I can safely say is the best for the job. It works, is easy to learn, is consistent and most of all, it makes sense for what you are doing.
Over the next few weeks I'll be introducing you to Lighthouse Keeper bit by bit in the build up to 1.0. Never has issue tracking been so easy and hassle free.
Comments (6)
Version Control With Bazaar
Posted on the 28/07/2008 at 03:36 PM
One of the most vital tools for a programmer is a version control system. My chosen tool is Bazaar, which I use for its flexibility and ease of use. There are other tools out there with various advantages and disadvantages (Git, Mercurial and Subversion to name a few), but I thought I would give an overview of Bazaar.
There are some very good guides already out there, but they can be a bit confusing in places and don't really highlight the advantages of Bazaar clearly. In this post I'll briefly explain what version control is and where Bazaar fits in and then walk you through getting and installing Bazaar on Mac OS X and then getting started using it. I assume some basic knowledge of the command line.
What is version control?
If you already know what version control is then you can skip this section. For those of you who don't, or don't really see the benefits, this is a brief outline. If you've been using Leopard you probably know about Time Machine for backing up your files. Every hour it looks for what has changed since it last backed up, and copies those changes over. This is a very simplified form of version control.
Version control is a means of storing the history of your project. Now version control is often talked about in terms of programmers, but it can be helpful for almost anyone who is working on any project on the computer. While you can undo changes in a document while it is open, you can't go back to before you opened the document. This is where version control comes in.
Let me give a real world example. I've been doing weekly releases of a new application to testers. One week a tester came back with a rather major bug they found soon after they opened the new release. It was fine the week before, so it must've been introduced during the week. Because I'd been using version control I could take the project back to the state it was in at various points during the past week. By doing this I could find out which was the last revision (a 'checkpoint' for your project) that didn't have the bug.
The next useful tool I could use was finding out what files had changed between those versions, and even which lines within those files had changed. After some quick investigation of these changes I found the bug and was able to fix it.
Of course there is another side to version control software and that is helping teams work together. If multiple people are working on a project, there will inevitably be times when two people need to edit the same file at the same time. When this happens you'll get a conflict, there are two versions of this file that you need to merge. Version control software helps ease this by providing tools that warn you of a conflict and help you to resolve them.
I'm going to focus mostly on the former use in this post, though I'll link places where you can read up on resolving conflicts in Bazaar at the end of the post
Why Bazaar?
So what made me use Bazaar? Well let me first make clear that I absolutely hate having to drop down to the command line and avoid it as much as I can. So that will set the scene for my not minding using Bazaar from the command line, which is a unique situation for me. The commands are incredibly easy to learn and use, and the concepts behind it are simple. It is also incredibly flexible and can adapt to almost any workflow.
There are two types of version control system: distributed and centralised. Centralised systems work by having the project hosted in a central location. Users check out a copy of the latest version of the project. They then work on this copy and then commit any changes back to the central location. Distributed systems work by each person having their own copy of the entire history of the project. Any changes they commit are kept in their copy until they choose to share them with someone. This works incredibly well for open source projects.
There are many advantages and disadvantages to both ways of working, but that's for another blog post. What is important is that, unlike most of the other systems out there, Bazaar lets you work in either a centralised or distributed manner, or anywhere in between. And you aren't locked into one way, you can switch between the two incredibly easily.
The last factor is the support behind it. The community of developers and users is one of the most friendly and helpful I've had the pleasure to be part of. It also has the support of Canonical, the company behind the Ubuntu Linux distro so has developers who can work on it full time to improve it.
One thing that has been lacking has been the number of big name projects using it, which has put off some people. But things are slowly changing. Bazaar is used by Ubuntu, the Drupal content management system and recently the MySQL database moved over to using Bazaar. Another project using it that is significant to Mac developers is the Sparkle updater framework.
This combination of ease of use, flexibility and the support available has really cemented Bazaar as my VCS of choice.
Getting started
While Bazaar does have a few graphical interfaces, none of them are native to the Mac and so look very out of place. I'll be showing you how to use Bazaar through the command line. But first we need to get Bazaar and install it. Bazaar lists installer packages on its download page. If you scroll down you will see installers for OS X 10.5 and 10.4. At the time of writing the current release version of Bazaar is version 1.5, but version 1.6 is well along the way to being released. Download the version for your operating system and then run the installer on the disk image.
Once the installer has finished you can quit it and unmount the disk image. You now have Bazaar installed on your system. The first thing you want to do is tell Bazaar who you are. This is done by using the whoami command like so (replacing with your name and email address):
bzr whoami "John Smith <>"
All calls to bzr are in the format "bzr [COMMAND]", in this case the command is whoami. If you want to see who Bazaar currently thinks you are then simply called whoami with no arguments, eg:
bzr whoami
Martin Pilkington <>
Setting up your Project
I'm first going to show you how to use Bazaar in a decentralised manner. This is how I use Bazaar and I find it to be ideal if you work alone.
The first thing you'll want to do is create a repository for your project. Two of the main storage entities in Bazaar are repositories and branches. You can have a branch without a repository if you wish, but if you choose to create new branches from this, then the history will be have to copied over, increasing disk usage. Repositories store the history in a central place, so creating new branches is both fast and efficient with disk space.
To create a repository, navigate to the folder where you want the repository to be in Terminal and type the following:
bzr init-repo [REPONAME]
Replacing [REPONAME] with the name of your project. Next, navigate into the newly created repo. To start work we need to create our first branch. You can call this whatever you like, but we'll just call it "trunk" for now, which is a common convention (I personally use "dev" for the name of my main branches but it's entirely up to you what you call it):
bzr init trunk
NB: If you are coming from the git VCS then you will want to take note that in Bazaar branches are just folders. You can find the reasoning behind this here.
Now we want to navigate into trunk. In future you'll want to navigate directly to this directory to do any work with Bazaar. If you've already got a project you want to follow along with, then drag the files into this branch. If not then just create some text files. Our first job in our branch is to perform the initial commit.
There is an important distinction to be made before we go any further. A file may be in your branch while not being in Bazaar. At the moment the files in your branch are not managed by Bazaar. If you were to try and commit now, Bazaar would tell you that there is nothing to commit. We first need to add these files to Bazaar. You will need to remember to do this whenever you add any new files to your project as it is easy to forget about them and just commit.
We use the add command to add files to Bazaar (I said the commands were easy to learn). You can tell Bazaar to add specific files by passing in their filenames like so:
bzr add file1.txt file2.txt
We want to add all the files in the project so we'll call add without passing in any filenames:
bzr add
Now that we have added all our files to Bazaar, we need to commit them. Committing sets a sort of checkpoint in your project that you can compare with or revert back to. When committing you will also want to set a message so that you (or any team members) have an overview of what changed in that release. We'll just set this message to "Initial commit" as this is our first commit:
bzr commit -m "Initial commit"
You will be told that Bazaar committed successfully and gave this commit a revision number of 1. Each commit is numbered incrementally to allow you to reference commits at a later date.
Getting branch information
From time to time you'll want to get information on the current state of the branch and the history of the branch. To get the current state of the files in the branch (whether they are unknown to Bazaar, newly added, modified, deleted etc) you need to use the status command:
bzr status
This will give you a grouped list of any significant files, ignoring any that are in Bazaar but haven't changed. The next command will show you a history of commits, including who performed the commit, when they committed and what the commit message is. You view this with the log command:
bzr log
This will show you the full history of the branch. To get the history of a single branch you can pass a revision number in as an argument:
bzr log -r 5
That will get the information for commit number 5. You can also get the history of a range of revisions:
bzr log -r 3..5
That will return the information for commits 3, 4 and 5. One last tool that you will sometimes want to use, is the ability to revert back to a previous state. To do this you use the revert command (be warned, this will erase any uncommitted changes):
bzr revert -r 3
This reverts the state of the files in the your branch to how they were at revision 3. You may also find that you've been editing a file since your last commit and you've made a mess, or found that an idea you had isn't working and you want to go back to the last commit. To do this just call revert without any arguments:
bzr revert
Working centralised
Some people prefer to work in a centralised manner, where their repository is stored on a central server. Bazaar is flexible enough to let you work in this manner as well. First off you need to create your central repository. I am going to assume you have a webserver to which you have SFTP access on which you will store your repository. To create your repository enter the following into the terminal:
bzr init-repo --no-trees s
You will need to replace 'username' with your FTP login username, '' with the URL of your FTP server, 'path/to/folder' with the path to where you want your repository and 'Repo-Name' with the name you want to call your repository. When you are prompted for your password, type it and press return and Bazaar will create your repository.
The --no-trees argument makes a repository that contains no working trees. This means that there are no files on the server to edit and all of the data is simply stored in the repository's history.
Our next job is to create our first branch. You will do this by using init in a similar way we did with init-repo:
bzr init s
Now we have set up our remote server we need to get a local copy of the branch. Even though there is nothing in our branch yet, this will set up the references so that we can commit our files. We will be doing a standalone checkout in this example, but you create a local repository for your checkouts if you wish (this would be useful if you were to switch between centralised and distributed development). To do a checkout, navigate to where you want the checkout to be downloaded to, and then use the checkout command:
bzr checkout s
There will now be a folder named "trunk" in the current directory. By navigating into it you can perform all the operation listed above such as status, add, log, revert and commit. If you now add some files to the "trunk" folder we can commit them to the repository online:
bzr add
bzr commit -m "Initial commit"
One useful argument you can use on commit is the --local argument. If you pass this in when you commit, Bazaar will commit the files locally instead of directly to the online repository. These will then be put into the online repository when you do a regular commit. This is very useful if you don't want half finished code in your central repository, but need to create commits part way through implementing a big part of your project:
bzr commit -m "My local commit" --local
Really useful bits
Below are some really commands and tips that I find really useful when using Bazaar:
Ignoring files
Sometimes there are some files you need in your branch folder that you don't want in your repository. This would be fine if it didn't require you to name every other file when performing a bzr add. You can tell Bazaar to ignore files matching certain patterns. These can either be global or project specific. To modify the global ignores open ~/.Bazaar/ignore and enter in your ignore patterns. If you want some project specific ignores then you can create a .bzrignore file in your branch. Here are a set of useful ignores to add for Cocoa projects:
Occasionally you'll perform a commit you didn't mean to make, or make a mistake in writing the commit message. You can undo a commit by using the uncommit command. For example:
bzr commit -m "My colo commit"
"Oops, there's a type there"
bzr uncommit
bzr commit -m "My cool commit"
Switching between checkouts and branches
Say you are using a centralised style of development, but you find you'll be somewhere you won't have network access, such as a plane or a train. You could just do local commits, but if you'll be offline for quite a while you may forget. An easier way is to convert your checkout into a branch and then convert it back to a checkout once you have finished. To do this you use the bind and unbind commands:
bzr unbind
"I'm now working on a branch"
bzr bind
"I'm now working on a checkout again"
If you create a branch you later want to work as a checkout you can use bind with a path to make it a checkout of that path:
bzr bind s
Tagging commits
Occasionally you'll have a commit that is a major milestone, such as a release version of a piece of software. You can tag these commits with names you can refer to later anywhere you would pass in a revision number:
bzr tag "1.0"
NB: If you are a Subversion users it is worth noting that a tag in Bazaar is simply an identifier you can give to a revision, not a copy of revision.
Offsite backups and switching machines
One advantage of the centralised workflow is that it's easy to have an offsite backup, especially if your server is offsite anyway. This is also useful if you were using two machines and wanting to switch between them (such as a desktop and a laptop). But if you're using a distributed style you won't have this benefit built into your workflow. However you can achieve it using the push and pull commands:
On my desktop
bzr push s --remember
On my laptop
bzr pull s --remember
The --remember argument is a great timesaver. This tells Bazaar to remember the push/pull location entered so every other time you don't need to enter the path again. For example, to move back to your desktop:
On my laptop
bzr push
On my desktop
bzr pull
Further reading
This is only an introduction to some of the most commonly used features of Bazaar and shows only two contrasting ways of working. There are many other workflows which you can choose. If you want to find out more you there are many places you can look. The first place should be the Bazaar documentation. The user guide is a series of tutorials for various workflows, but after you know the basics of Bazaar the user reference is far more useful to find out more about each command. There is also a mailing list and an IRC chatroom called #bzr on
Hopefully this (rather lengthy) post will have given you a good overview of how to use Bazaar and why you might want to consider using it as your version control software of choice. However, I do recommend exploring other systems out there to see if they fit your needs better. No one solution is perfect and each excels at different things, what is important is to make a good choice now than have to try and migrate everything at a later date.
Comments (0)
Minim 1.2.1 and the Future of Minim
Posted on the 21/07/2008 at 08:29 PM
So, a full 244 days since the release of Minim 1.2, I've finally got round to writing and releasing 1.2.1. It's nothing spectacular, in fact is only fixes one minor bug with file types. But it unfortunately highlights the fact that Minim has been neglected, so I think it's only fair that I give people an indication of the future of Minim.
First thing to get out, Minim is not going anywhere. I still use it myself, albeit not as regularly as I used to. The problem is simply finding time. It is stuck in a catch 22, I don't want to spend too much time on it as it doesn't bring in a significant portion of my income, but it won't bring in a significant portion of my income unless I spend time on it. The time that I would be spending on Minim is unfortunately otherwise occupied, mostly with university.
So what am I going to be doing about it? Well I have 3 major releases planned before the end of the year. The first is a new product which you'll hear more about in the coming weeks. The second is Code Collector Pro 1.3, which will address two of the core usability flaws that still exist. The last one will be Minim 2.0. I'll outline now what Minim 2.0 will and won't be:
- It will be Leopard only. I have planned for a while that the 2.0 versions of my existing apps will be Leopard only. There is a lot of new stuff in Leopard for developers, which not only makes life easier for us, but also allows us to do things in a few lines of code which would've taken over 100 in Tiger.
- It will be a free upgrade for existing users. I'm not expecting Minim 2.0 to be ready until the end of 2008 (which means there is a small possibility of it slipping to the start of 2009) so this means there will have been 4 updates in 2 years. This is too slow a rate of progress to ask existing users to pay for a new version.
- It won't be a huge update. This is another reason for not charging. It won't be as big an update as one would usually expect from a 2.0, but it will be big enough to not just be a 1.3. In fact it essentially combines the best bits of what was going to be 1.3 and 2.0 initially.
When I have the free time to work on it, I expect to ramp up updates to Minim and give it the attention it deserves. Until then it unfortunately is taking a back seat to other applications, but I'm hoping that it will ultimately allow me to produce better applications faster.
Comments (0)
The iPhone Economy
Posted on the 18/07/2008 at 05:21 PM
OK, before I start let me explain my position. I don’t currently own an iPhone (the black 16GB are illusive little buggers in O2 stores) but I’ve had an iPod touch for several months. I think it’s the best handheld device out there and has one of the best development environments available. It really is Apple’s crowning achievement. I have some iPhone applications planned. I’ve also spent way more money than I should have on the AppStore. But I have some niggles.
For me the iPhone/iPod touch platform (I’ll just say iPhone from now on) isn’t a very appealing platform for an app developer. I mean, there are some apps that are ideal for it but most of these already seem to have been done, there is only so much you can do with photos, so many ways of making a ToDo app etc. Maybe I’m just lacking imagination but I can’t really think of that many applications that could go on the iPhone. Sure, I can think of all sorts of custom stuff for businesses, but that’s boring work. In terms of stuff you make, pack up and sell to customers the idea pool is very limited.
But why? One answer is the hardware. Multi touch is great but requires large target areas. This limits what you can show on a single screen, limiting the complexity of an application. Yes you can have sub categories and stuff hidden away, but while that works fine on the Mac and is actually the recommended way of doing things, there is only so much stuff you can hide before it pisses off users.
The other part of this equation is that while multi touch controls require quite a bit of screen space, the screen space is limited on the iPhone. Even if you could use a keyboard an mouse, there is only so much you can do on such a tiny screen.
Does this mean that the iPhone sucks for applications? Not at all, in fact it is ideal for some sorts of applications, it is just pants for others. It doesn’t give you the flexibility to build as wide a range of applications as the Mac and it doesn’t let you make an application as feature filled as on the Mac, but this is also an advantage, because it means developers can focus on making what they can do with the device the best user experience out there.
But it’s not all doom and gloom about what you can develop for the iPhone, because I’ve only been talking about applications up until now. Where the iPhone will excel is gaming. It is an almost perfect hand held gaming device. In gaming terms, it is like if the PS3 and Wii has a lovechild which was also genetically modified with DNA from the GameBoy. It is the most powerful in it’s class with a unique selection of input devices and is incredibly portable (I’ve had my iPod touch for over 9 months now and I still can’t get over how bloody thin it is).
The iPhone is brilliant because it forces developers to be innovative and try to get around the fact that there’s no D-Pad. The iPhone is unique in this regard, even the Wii has a D-Pad. Of course, developers won’t get this right the first time but innovation isn’t always a nice process to watch. I’m going to be spending half of my last year of University looking into the various ways you can control games trying to find out what works best in what situation, but even then there won’t be one set of controls that work best in one situation.
So what about the economy part of things? Well some people seem to think that the iPhone will be a bigger platform than the Mac in a few years. I tend to agree with them, but it will be an entirely different platform. The Mac’s bread and butter is content creation and content creation requires some degree of accuracy and a decent amount of screen space. The iPhone will consist more at applications you just want to pull out and look at briefly while you’re on the go, but it will shine most as a gaming device. And while the Mac commands an average price of around $25-30, the iPhone will be more around $8-10.
It isn’t really right to compare the Mac to the iPhone, they are designed for two completely different scenarios. It would be like comparing to Word. One is designed for quick and simple stuff, the other is designed to sit down and immerse yourself in work. Yes, the iPhone will be a bigger platform in terms of unit sales, revenue, profit and everything that matters to anyone trying to make money. But don’t think that you can just transfer straight straight from the desktop and expect it to be the same sort of market. It’s a different class of applications, aimed at a different type of user in a different type of situation.
Comments (4)
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Copyright © 2006-2014 M Cubed Software
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51347
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noun \ˈdi-pər\
: a large spoon with a long handle that is used for dipping liquids
Full Definition of DIPPER
: one that dips: as
a : a worker who dips articles
b : something (as a long-handled cup) used for dipping
c slang : pickpocket
: any of a genus (Cinclus and especially C. cinclus of the Old World and C. mexicanus of North America) of birds that comprise an oscine family (Cinclidae) and include individuals that wade and dive into swift mountain streams in search of food —called also water ouzel
capitalized : a group of stars that resembles a dipper: as
a : big dipper
b : little dipper
dip·per·ful \-ˌfl\ noun
Examples of DIPPER
1. <the metal dipper left in the stew pot was too hot to touch>
First Known Use of DIPPER
Related to DIPPER
noun (Concise Encyclopedia)
Eurasian dipper (Cinclus cinclus)—H.M. Barnfather—Bruce Coleman Inc.
Any of five songbird species in the genus Cinclus (family Cinclidae), noted for hunting insects by walking underwater in rushing streams. The species are widely distributed in Asia, Africa, Europe, and North and South America. Dippers are plump, stub-tailed birds, about 7 in. (18 cm) long, with a thrushlike bill and legs. They are commonly blackish brown or dull gray. They nest in a dome of moss built in a crevice, often behind a waterfall. See also ouzel.
Variants of DIPPER
dipper or water ouzel
Next Word in the Dictionary: dipper clam
Previous Word in the Dictionary: Dippel's oil
All Words Near: dipper
Seen & Heard
What made you want to look up dipper? Please tell us where you read or heard it (including the quote, if possible).
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51349
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noun \mə-ˈsäzh, -ˈsäj\
: the action of rubbing or pressing someone's body in a way that helps muscles to relax or reduces pain in muscles and joints
Full Definition of MASSAGE
Examples of MASSAGE
1. She gave him a neck massage.
2. using massage to help relax
Origin of MASSAGE
French, from masser to massage, from Arabic massa to stroke
First Known Use: circa 1860
Other Medicine Terms
: to rub or press (someone's body) in a way that helps muscles to relax or reduces pain in muscles and joints : to give a massage to (someone or a part of someone's body)
: to change (numbers, data, etc.) in a dishonest way in order to deceive people
Full Definition of MASSAGE
transitive verb
: to subject to massage
a : to treat flatteringly : blandish
b : manipulate, doctor <massaged the data to help his cause>
mas·sag·er noun
Examples of MASSAGE
1. She massaged her leg until the numbness was gone.
2. <a candidate who knows that you have to massage the voters if you want to get elected>
First Known Use of MASSAGE
noun (Concise Encyclopedia)
Systematic, scientific manipulation of body tissues with the hands to relieve pain and reduce swelling, relax muscles, and speed healing after strains and sprains. It has been used for more than 3,000 years by the Chinese. Early in the 19th century, the Swedish physician Per Henrik Ling (1776–1839) devised a massage system for joint and muscle ailments, which was later extended to relieve deformities of arthritis and re-educate muscles following paralysis. Manipulations include light or hard stroking, compression (kneading, squeezing, and friction), and percussion (striking with the edges of the hands in rapid alternation). In acupressure, a style of massage derived from China, pressure is exerted on Chinese acupuncture points for healing effects. See also physical medicine and rehabilitation.
Next Word in the Dictionary: massage parlor
Previous Word in the Dictionary: massacre (verb)
All Words Near: massage
Seen & Heard
What made you want to look up massage? Please tell us where you read or heard it (including the quote, if possible).
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51360
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Port XTender
Port XTender
About | Download | Purchase | Support
Port XTender is a software serial port bridge between Mac OS X's Classic environment and the internal modem that is standard equipment on all shipping Macs.
In Mac OS X, applications which have not been updated to run natively instead run inside the Classic environment. Although Classic is much like a real OS 9 system, it lacks access to low-level hardware such as the internal modem. This poses a problem for applications such as MacAuthorize, which requires the use of a modem but runs in Classic.
Port XTender is a software bridge that allows these applications to use the internal modem.
Contact me if you'd like to try a time-limited, but otherwise fully functional demo of Port XTender.
The price for Port XTender is $100. Please try the demo first and make sure it works before purchasing. After purchase, you'll be sent a license upgrade (56K compressed) by email.
You can purchase Port XTender at Kagi's Internet store.
Again, make sure the demo works before you purchase Port XTender. Some configurations may not work due to modem incompatibilities, and it's your responsibility to verify that Port XTender works (using the demo) before you purchase it. There are no refunds.
Port XTender enables communication between an application running in Classic and the internal modem. Port XTender is not, however, responsible for the content of that communication. It's up to the application (as configured by the user) to send suitable initialization commands to the modem, and up to the modem to implement the command set and behave correctly in general. Some of the more recent Apple modems actually support a reduced command set, and exhibit other problems, like failing to connect to very old modems, or not emitting "NO CARRIER" when a dial attempt fails.
One issue is caused by Mac OS X itself -- when Port XTender requests use of the modem, OS X's Unix layer performs its own modem initialization, leaving the modem in a different state than under OS 9, which causes problems with some old modems. If you get "Host not responding" error messages from MacAuthorize, add "\N1" (without quotes) to the modem initialization string in 'Setup / Communications...'. (This disables attempts to negotiate certain protocols that are confusing the remote modem.)
If you are having issues using Port XTender and can demonstrate that your modem connects to your processor's modem without Port XTender (e.g. in Mac OS 9), I'll be glad to help you track down and fix the problem. Otherwise, I may not be able to help you. You may wish to contact your modem's vendor (i.e. Apple) or your credit card processor for support. Using an alternate phone number may help if there are different modems answering on that line.
You may find Dave Alverson's ZTerm application useful. You can use the Mac OS X version to send commands directly to your modem and observe its behavior (without interference from MacAuthorize or Port XTender), or run the Mac OS 9 version in Classic to also verify that Port XTender is working on your system. If you can establish a connection in ZTerm, then it should be possible to get MacAuthorize working.
Please accompany requests for support with the following information from System Profiler (Apple menu, About This Mac, More Info...):
(Click in the information panel, Select All, and Copy.) Also:
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51403
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Integral Yoga Literature - By the Mother
Overview of Works by the Mother
Quotations taken from introductions to the works in Collected Works of the Mother.
Please see also the text area of this site as well, which has numerous links to texts by Sri Aurobindo and the Mother.
Prayers and Meditations
"Prayers and meditations selected by the Mother from her diaries of 1912 to 1919... " The Mother says of them, "This book is meant for those who aspire for an utter consecration to the Divine."
Words of Long Ago
This volume contains works by the Mother before she settled in Pondicherry in 1920.
Questions and Answers
The Mother met with disciples over the years, sometimes after meditation, sometimes for more structured talks and classes. Many of the questions and answers were copied down. These form a large and important portion of the Mother's detailed instructions on the spiritual life.
On Thoughts and Aphorisms
"The Mother's commentaries on Sri Aurobindo's Thoughts and Aphorisms were given over the twelve year period extending from 1958 to 1970."
The Agenda
Entire Text (link to outside site)
The Mother had conversations in French with Satprem during the period 1961-1973. These were tape-recorded, and subsequently transcribed. The work of translating them into English still continues. The Agenda forms an important part of the published words of the Mother during this period, and is regarded by many as a key to her later spiritual work.
Notebook on Evolution (compilation)
An anonymous, selected compilation of the words of the Mother on transformation, taken from The Agenda.
On the Dhammapada
"From August 1957 to September 1958, in a weekly class with the children of the Ashram school, the Mother read from and commented on the Buddhist teachings as contained in the Dhammapada. The Mother based her commentaries on a French translation of the Pali text. The commentaries, given in French, were tape-recorded at the time."
Notes on the Way
Volume 11 of "The Mother's Collected Works". Comprises conversations of the transformation of the body, documenting Mother's own experiences from the years 1961 - 1973. This is an unparalleled account of the actual process of supramentalisation and the transformation of the physical body.
On Education
Volume 12 of "The Mother's Collected Works" contains the Mother's articles and talks on education. Many first appeared in the Bulletin of Sri Aurobindo International Centre of Education.
[Booksellers][Publishers][Study groups]
[Main][Next][Search the Section]
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51406
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July 29, 2014
MU Researcher identifies three new species of venemous primate
A University of Missouri researcher hopes her work to sort out four species of primates will help to save them.
One of the newly identified species of slow loris is the Nycticebus kayan. (Photo credit: Ch'ien C Lee)
One of the newly identified species of slow loris is the Nycticebus kayan. (Photo credit: Ch’ien C Lee)
The slow loris has large, brown eyes like its relative the lemur, a second, serrated tongue and an extra vertebrae that makes it very limber.
On the Indonesian island of Borneo, doctoral student Rachel Munds and her colleagues determined that what was thought to be one species of slow loris is actually four different species. The team observed differences in body size, fur thickness, habitat and facial marking among the island’s loris population.
Munds says all four species are threatened by humans through deforestation, trade as pets and uses in traditional medicine by the native population.
She says lorises do not make good pets.
“They’re nocturnal, we don’t really know exactly what they eat, they are social … and when you take them out of the wild the people who capture them often rip their teeth out because of that venomous bite that they have.”
In one example of lorises being endangered by traditional Asian medicines, study co-author Anna Nekaris says the tears of the big-eyed loris are thought to be useful to treat eye diseases in humans. In some cases the way those tears are extracted involve skewering the animal and burning it alive.
Nekaris says popular internet videos of lorises doing things like holding umbrellas or eating with forks are also misleading in their innocence. She says lorises in these videos are desperate to hold something, as they would normally spend their whole lives in trees clutching to branches.
Munds hopes the distinction between the four species will earn each one endangered status.
“Because we only thought there was one loris species on Borneo, that species was originally presumed to be vulnerable, but when you divide a species into four, all of a sudden you’re looking at a totally different story because now there’s four species on Borneo, each with their particular habitats, and it makes them probably … possibly endangered. We haven’t actually changed their conservation status yet, but there’s a good chance that they would be endangered.”
Munds says she will follow-up her work with a genetic study at the University of Missouri.
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October 19, 2004
Rookie Serena Lin Named NEWMAC Co-Player of the Week
Oct. 19, 2004
CAMBRIDGE, MASS. - Freshman Serena Lin (Saratoga, Calif.) was named NEWMAC Co-Player of the Week in women's tennis after another dominating week in NEWMAC play. Early in the week, Lin won her match to help MIT defeat defending Conference champion, Babson College, 5-4. She teamed with freshman partner Mariah Hoover (Orlando, Fla.) for an 8-0 win at second doubles, and then added a 6-0, 6-1 win at the No. 1 singles position. Over the weekend, Lin and Hoover became the first MIT pair to advance to the semifinals of the New England Women's Intercollegiate Tennis Tournament (NEWITT) in five years.
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New MobyGoal! We're aiming for 1,500 well documented Arcade games.
After Burner (SEGA 32X)
100 point score based on reviews from various critics.
5 point score based on user ratings.
Not an American user?
After Burner is an aircraft shooter. The goal is simple: use your F-14 Tomcat and shoot as many enemies as you can. This aircraft has two weapons: lock-on missiles and Vulcan cannons (basically machine guns). In some versions there is an option to let the cannons shoot automatically all the time.
The game is viewed from behind the plane with you fighting wave after wave of enemy fighters. But at heart it offers the usual shooter mechanics, meaning you spend most of your time dodging and shooting. Sometimes you come across a friendly supply plane and if you dock with it you can replenish your missiles.
After Burner SEGA 32X Enemy locked !
After Burner SEGA 32X We have been hit !
After Burner SEGA 32X Stage 1
After Burner SEGA 32X Title screen
Alternate Titles
• "After Burner Complete" -- Japanese and European 32X title
• "アフターバーナー" -- Japanese spelling
Part of the Following Groups
User Reviews
There are no reviews for the SEGA 32X release of this game. You can use the links below to write your own review or read reviews for the other platforms of this game.
The Press Says Aug 08, 2005 9 out of 10 90
SEGA-Mag (Objectif-SEGA) Aug 06, 2008 8 out of 10 80
GameFan Magazine Apr, 1995 77 out of 100 77
GamePro (US) Mar, 1995 3.5 out of 5 70
Video Games & Computer Entertainment May, 1995 7 out of 10 70
Defunct Games Oct 31, 2004 70 out of 100 70
Mega Fun Jan, 1995 51 out of 100 51
Gamers (Germany) Feb, 1995 6 out of 15 40
Digital Press - Classic Video Games Jul 01, 2005 3 out of 10 30
The Video Game Critic Mar 13, 2007 D 25
There are currently no topics for this game.
References to the game
In the movie Terminator 2: Judgement Day, John Connor is shown playing After Burner at the arcade at the mall.
During one of the take-off sequences of the game, you're followed by a small red car. It's the Ferrari from Outrun, another hit arcade game.
ZX Spectrum version
The ZX Spectrum version of the game has the plane firing its cannon constantly throughout and cannot be switched off. This is due to the fire button being used to fire the missiles.
Information also contributed by cafeine and festershinetop
Related Web Sites
quizzley7 (21214) added After Burner (SEGA 32X) on Sep 27, 2002
Other platforms contributed by Quapil (4742), Rola (6840), PCGamer77 (3028), Sciere (245704), Martin Smith (63168), lugnut (359), Pseudo_Intellectual (44369), Macintrash (2514) and Indra is here (19679)
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Welcome minna this is a fic inspired by my usually bouts of sugar high and hyperness. I'd just like to say a big HI HI! To Ghani- chan, Sere, Viper, Starz, Auto, Rora, MMJ, Des, NBG, DN, Lena, JSW, Hal, Cat, Soul, LA, Jenny, Aimee-ohki (gomen if that's spelt wrong), ummm Limi, L*, Tan and all my other chatting buddies! You guys are so great. Thanks for being my friends and always making me laugh. Oh yeah everyone go visit Rora's site and her board it's great and very? ah pink. He he eh here's the address for you all: http://eichorn.sturgis.mi.us/~LizLand/ It's a great site and I'M A MOD ON HER BOARD! WOOHOO! He he he anyway here's my crazy fic that I wrote during a sugar high so don't be too alarmed. It's all on the spot by the way. No planning or anything just one burst of craziness after the other. Oh yeah don't be alarmed by the high content of grammar and spelling mistakes. It happens alright! The Misadventures of The Three Drunk M.eigo's By: Cher Email: [email protected] Rating: PG ? PG13 Ok so we were in major dilemma. Being locked in the arcade is seriously not as fun as it sounds. Motoki, being the baka that he is. Broke the key in the door. You see we were going to stay and help him clean up that's right. Aino Minako and myself, Kino Makoto were agreeing to clean up the arcade. Well how could you turn down an opportunity to be ALONE with Motoki. My point exactly. He had just locked the back door and the windows and was on his way to lock the front door when Mamoru showed up. Well there goes our chance at spending time with Motoki. Motoki told Mamoru our plans to rearrange the store room and games and Mamoru was all for it. Great. We were lucky Usagi wasn't here. So it was the four of us. Minako Motoki, Mamoru and myself. So Motoki was locking the front doors, Minako was sitting at the counter, I was standing behind the counter with Motoki's apron and name tag imitating him. Mamoru was in the storage cupboard getting cleaning equipment. Minako was giggling about my deep voice impersonation of Motoki. "So Minako-chan how are YOU doin?" Minako giggled some more and leaned over the counter. "Oh Motoki-chan you are so hunky. Please say that you're all mine." I cleared my throat and jumped up on the counter. Going down on one knee I took Minako's hand and kissed it. "Mina-chan please do me the honor of being my wife. I WANNA HAVE YOUR BABY!" Motoki turned to look up at us just securing the doors when I jumped off the counter and grabbed Minako's hand. We ballroom danced around the arcade and I spun Minako out towards the doors Motoki was just locking. She klutzed out and plummeted towards Motoki. Motoki spun around to catch her and in his haste snapped the key. Leaving the itty bitty handle in his hand and the locking part in the key hole. He threw Minako on the ground and looked at the half of key in his hand. "OH NO!" Motoki wailed in horror. Minako was in a heap on the floor, I could have sworn she was twitching. At that moment Mamoru decided to enter the scene with his mop and bucket. "Motoki-chan why are you on the floor? What's the matter? Why is Minako-san twitching?" Turning to Mamoru I placed an arm around his shoulder. "This my friend is the epic tale of a falling Minako- chan and a wailing Motoki-san." Mamoru shrugged my arm off his shoulder and walked to Motoki. "Motoki-chan what's up why are you screaming?" Motoki looked up to Mamoru with utter despair in his eyes. "Oh Mamoru-chan we're done for. The key broke in the lock. We're locked in. With?with?WITH THEM!" Motoki pointed at the now sitting Minako and myself. "HEY! We resemble that remark. Just cause we know how to have fun." Poking my tongue out at Motoki I turned to Minako and helped her to her feet. "Come on let's see if there's another way out." Minako hobbled in front of me to the back door. We could here Motoki and Mamoru muttering about something and Minako snickered. "Can you believe our luck? I mean look we're stuck in an arcade with the two most hunkiest guys in Tokyo. How better could this situation get?" At that point we walked into the storeroom to find it full of ice-cream, chocolate sauce, caramel sauce and all the delightful treats you could imagine. "See what I mean?" I nodded eagerly and rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Minako walked to the back door and jiggled the handle. "Nope no luck. I guess we're locked in then." "Oh what a shame." I snickered putting an arm around Minako. "Let's go and see how the boys are doing. Oh yeah that reminds me. I've got dibs on Motoki-san." Minako's face fell. "HEY NO FAIR I WANT HIM!" "Nuh uh I called him first." "girls?" "NO WAY THAT IS SO NOT FAIR I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WE WERE CALLING FOR THEM!" "girls?" "Dibs is dibs you can't over rule a dibs so you're stuck with Mam?" "GIRLS!?!" We both snapped our heads around to Mamoru standing with his hands on his hips. "Gomen Mamoru-san" we both hung our heads. "What are you talking about, who are you calling for?" Mamoru asked staring at us with a mop in his hand. I was eyeing the mop while Minako was trying to talk us out of the situation. "Calling for??we?ah?well?we?um?you see?they?she?we weren't?exactly?" "Hey Mamoru-san what's with the mop?" Mamoru turned to me and grinned. "Well Makoto-san I'm giving you the honors of mopping the floor. And Minako-san you can clean out the soft serve machine. It blew up earlier and there's melted soft server everywhere. You ah might wanna put your hair up." My jaw dropped. How could he? We were supposed to be having fun. This was not part of the plan. "Mamoru-san." I whined in my best Usa voice. "Why do we have to work it's wrong, unbelievable, it's ludicrous, it's?" "It's what you were supposed to be doing in the first place." Damn he had me there. "Fine then Mamoru-san I'll mop but that's it. And I better see you and Motoki working equally hard as us." Mamoru smiled sarcastically at me. "Well at this point in time Motoki is too distraught to clean and I have to look after him before he does anything too rash." Once again my jaw dropped. "TOO RASH? TOO RASH? WHAT COULD HE POSSIBLY DO HERE THAT WOULD BE TOO RASH?" Mamoru smiled and shrugged holding the mop to me. I snatched it of him and poked my tongue out at him while he was walking away. "That Mamoru-san he's?he's?let's just say I know how Usagi-chan feels now." Minako grumbled about soft serve and her hair while she yanked it into a plait. I slammed the mop into the bucket and started to mop. (That ones for you Sachi hehehe) After many strenuous, painful, horrible MINUTES of mopping I could hear a distinct muffled scream coming from behind the counter. I dropped the mop and ran over to the counter. I could see Minako's body sticking out of the ice cream machine and her head was somewhere inside. I leapt over the counter and pulled Minako out. "Mina-chan what's the matter?" She had ice cream all over her face and tears in her eyes. Pointing to her hand which was also covered in ice cream. "I *sniff* *sniff* oh god I *sniff* I BROKE MY NAIL!" She wailed falling to the floor. By this stage Mamoru and Motoki had made their way over. "Minako- san what's the matter?" I turned to Mamoru and Motoki. "Look what you've done to her?she's fragile?she's innocent?she's?IT'S SO WRONG MAMORU-SAN!" I turned back to Minako who looked like a snowman covered in all that soft serve and put a hand on her shoulder. "She doesn't cope well with stress ne?" Mamoru snickered to Motoki. I turned and glared at Motoki. "Have you even tried to ring someone to get us out of here?" Motoki nodded and looked at his watch. "I called a locksmith he'll be here first thing tomorrow morning. Sorry girls but it looks like you're stuck here for the night. When you finish cleaning you can ring whoever and tell them your stuck here." Minako sniffed and shook her head. "Nuh uh now way no how. My mum will blow her stack if she finds out I'm locked in an arcade with TWO 20 year olds and?OH NO MAKO-CHAN WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE AT REI- CHAN'S FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO!" My eyes bugged out of my head and I turned to Motoki. "Oh please, please, PLEASSSSSSSSSSE don't let her get us. She will absolutely kill us." Mamoru raised his hands in defense. "Hey we won't." I sighed in relief and helped Minako to her feet. She sniffed and wiped some tears out of her eyes. "We should get back to work ne?" Minako shook her head sending flecks of ice cream everywhere. "No I've finished." I sighed realising I still had a good ten minutes of mopping to go. Wearily making my way over to the mop I watched Minako trot over to the booth that Motoki and Mamoru were lounging in. I cursed my luck and continued to mop the arcade floor. I had finally finished mopping when I decided to check out the counter. There was a cash register and some office things underneath it and the coke machine beckoned to me. "Hey Motoki can I use the phone to call Rei-chan?" Motoki looked up to me and nodded. I picked up the phone beneath the counter and dialed Rei's number. "Hello?" Rei's slightly strained voice came on the other line. "Ah?hiya Rei-chan." I put on my happiest voice and tried to control my shaking hands. "KINO MAKOTO WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE 25 MINUTES AGO! EVEN USAGI IS HERE!" I held the phone away from my ear and closed my eyes. When it sounded like she had quieted down I gingerly put the phone back to my ear. "Gomen Rei-chan you see Mina-chan and I are locked in the arcade with Motoki and Mamoru." I heard Rei's sigh and then Usagi's voice. "YOU'RE JOKING RIGHT? THEY'RE STUCK WITH MAMORU-BAKA? AND?MOTOKI? I GOTTA GET OVER THERE!" "Rei-chan I gotta go Mina-chan is whining gomen we'll make it up to you." "Whatever Mako-chan just keep it safe alright and ring me as soon as you get home." "Hai Ja ne!" I hung up the phone and walked over to Minako and the boys. "So it's five in the afternoon and my bedtimes not till 11.00 what are we gonna do till then?" Motoki slapped his head in frustration and turned to me. "Amuse yourselves just DON'T EAT ANYTHING!" My eyes lit up and I grinned at Minako. "I think he means we're free." Minako's eyes lit up and she raced to a booth in the center of the arcade. Leaping onto the table Minako grabbed the mop and took a deep breath. "VIVA LAS ARCADE GAMES! VIVA LAS ARCADE GAMES! WOOHOO! This is Aino Minako coming to you live from the arcade may I take any requests." I raised my hand and waved it around. "Yes that beautiful lady with the brown hair you have a request?" "Hai I'd like to hear?" I skipped over to Minako and whispered a song in her ear. "Oh such a lovely selection from out beautiful women in the audience. And here it is." Minako cleared her throat and went down onto one knee. "This is dedicated to Mamoru-san." Mamoru, who was previously ignoring us, turned cautiously to the raving lunatic on the table. "Ahem. WHY DO BIRDS SUDDENLY APPEAR? EVERYTIME THAT YOU ARE NEAR? JUST LIKE ME THEY LONG TO BE CLOSE TO YOU! WHY DO STARS FALL FROM THE SKY EVERYTIME YOU WALK BY? JUST LIKE ME THEY LONG TO BEEEEEEEE CLOSE TO YOUUUUUUUUUUUU! FROM THE DAY THAT YOU WERE BORN THE ANGELS GOT TOGETHER AND DECIDED TO CREATE A DREAM COME TRUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SO THEY SPRINKLED MOON DUST IN YOUR HAIR AND IN YOUR EYES SO BLUEEEEEEEEEEE! THAT IS WHY ALL THE BOYS IN TOWN! FOLLOW YOU follow you ALL AROUND all around JUST LIKE ME THEY LONG TO BE CLOSE TO YOUUUUUUUUUU! AH E AH E AH CLOSE TO YOU! close to you AH E AH E AH CLOSE TO YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU?" "Minako-san please." "AH E AH E AH CLOSE TO YOUUUUUUUU!" "MINAKO-SAN SHUT THE HELL UP!" Minako's jaw hung slack and she stared in shock at Mamoru. "Jeez Mamoru- san you need to lighten up a little." Mamoru rolled his eyes and rubbed at his temples. "If you're going to sing stupid renditions of crappy songs puh-leese do it quietly and MAKOTO-SAN don't encourage her." Minako and myself cast our eyes downwards and spoke in unison. "Gomen Mamoru-san." Mamoru sighed. "It's alright just do something quietly." Minako jumped off the table and wandered through the arcade. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! CRASH! Lightening and thunder erupted across the sky and Minako jumped in fright. Naturally I ran to the door and pressed up against it. "WHOOWEE! LOOK AT THAT STORM!" Motoki stepped up beside me and pressed his face against the glass. "Gee I'm glad we're in here." I turned to Motoki in shock. "No way storms are great. Especially lightening ones. Whenever a storm like this happens I done my bikini and race outside. It's wonderful really." Motoki backed away slowly and carefully. "Ah sure Makoto-san whatever you say." I grinned and turned back to the storm just in time to see a lightening bolt hit the power lines. Sparks of electricity flew everywhere and the lights went out. Silence was golden in the arcade at that moment until Mamoru-baka broke it. "Oh great just great just when I thought my afternoon couldn't get any worse this happens. That does it I'm calling the cops." I could hear him make his way through the darkness. BANG! "Oh shoot gomen Minako!" "Ah no Mamoru-san I'm over here I think that was Mako-chan" "Nope I'm at the door." "Motoki?" "Nuh uh I'm still sitting down." "Then what did I??" SLAP! "MAMORU-SAN THAT WAS MY LEG!" "Oh gomen Minako-san I thought you were over there." "Yeah so did I?Motoki you wouldn't have any candles in this place would you?" "Um no but I got hotdogs." "Oh great we can light the place up with hotdogs." "Where the hell is the stupid phone." BANG! "MAMORU-SAN THE COUNTER IS THAT WAY!" "Oh gomen Makoto- san." BANG! BANG! BANG! "Motoki what on earth do you keep behind this counter?" "I don't know first aid kit, weaponry, cloths?" "OH SHOOT!" "What now?" "The phone's dead how are we gonna?" At that moment the back up lights switched on to reveal Mamoru on his hands and knees talking into a Fire hose.(AN: Don't ask how a fire hose got in the arcade.) "Ah Mamoru there's your problem bud I don't think that hose is connected. If you try the fire extinguisher over there you may get a better connection." Minako grinned at him from her position on the floor. "Shut up Minako- san." Mamoru snapped as he placed the hose back into it's compartment. He stormed over to the counter and picked up the phone. "Well whaddya know this phone's dead too. Great just great. I knew I should have brought my text books." I turned from watching the storm to Mamoru and glared. "You sound just like Ami-chan. YOU sir need to loosen up. How about we play tiggy or hide and seek?" Mamoru rolled his eyes and sat back down with Motoki. I glared at the two before turning to Minako. "How about it sweet thang let's go find us some fun." Minako jumped up from the floor and nodded eagerly. We skipped through the dimly lit arcade to find some fun when low and behold a cleaning trolley beckoned to us. Minako grabbed everything off and chucked it all on the floor. "HOP ON MAKO-CHAN!" She said imitating a cow boy. "YEEHAW!" I jumped onto the trolley and held tight. Just as Minako pushed forwards the lights went off again. "OH NO MAKO-CHAN I CAN'T SEE!" I could feel myself being lurched forward with no control. "Mina-chan stop this thing!" "Mako-chan I'm down here." Her voice was far away and distant and just as the lights flickered back on I could see the counter looming closer and closer. "AIIIEEEEEEEEE! HOW DO I STOP THIS THING! SOMEONE HELP ME!" I scampered to the further side of the trolley and waited for the impact of the hit. BANG! "AIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! LOOK MINNA I CAN FLY!" I was flying through the air when realization dawned and the floor loomed closer. "AHHHH I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" I scrunched my eyes closed and waited for the floor to connect. "OUF!" I could feel strong arms around me and I carefully opened my eyes to see Mamoru beneath me. I launched myself to my feet and blushed bright red. "Gomen Mamoru-san. Arigato let me help you up." I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. He smiled at me sarcastically. "You know it would be nice if you could refrain from dangerous activities. Oh and you're not as heavy as you make yourself out to be." He winked at me before turning to walk. Minako picked this time to come running towards me. She tried to skid to a stop but was too late and ran into the back of me which caused me to lunge forward and run into the back of Mamoru. The proper terminology of this would be 'The Dominoes Effect.' "You know guys you should try to refrain from falling over too much. It's a known fact that everytime you hit your head six brain cells are damaged." The three of us untangled ourselves from the floor and looked at each other thoughtfully. "Gee Usagi must have hit her head lots then." I said contemplating Motoki's comment. Mamoru rubbed his head and stood taking himself as far away as possible from Minako and myself. Motoki stuck his hand out to me and I was hauled to my feet while Minako writhed on the floor. "HEY MINA-CHAN! GET UP!" She shot up like a bullet and saluted Motoki. He just shook his head and walked back to his booth. It had been an hour since our escapade on the trolley and Minako and I were playing poker with a pack of cards we found in the storeroom. "So Mako-chan remind me what we're playing for." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "For the last time Minako first to three wins. The loser has to kiss Mamoru-san." Minako nodded thoughtfully. "And Mamoru-san knows about this?" I nodded vigorously with an evil glint in my eye. "Ok so first to three?" Rolling my eyes I dealt out the cards. "When can I fold?" I glared at Minako. "Minako you fold if you don't have any sets." She nodded in understanding and rearranged her cards. Triumphantly setting my cards down on the floor I grinned at her. "Full house." She sighed and placed down two jacks, a two, a four and an ace. "Well Mako-CHAN you win that round." She said with emphasis on the chan. Minako shuffled the cards and dealt them out. I rearranged my cards and smiled happily. Minako smacked her cards on the floor and grinned. "Three of a kind." I raised my eyebrow. "Oh yeah well?" Smacking my cards on the ground I stuck my tongue out at her. "Four of a kind." (AN: Gomen I don't know if that's a real set I just made it up) "Oh man Mako-chan how do you do that?" I shrugged and poked my tongue out at her. "ARE YOU GIRLS ALRIGHT DOWN THERE? YOU'RE AWFUL QUIET!" I smiled in Motoki's direction. "FINE MOTOKI- SAN!" Two distinct sighs of relief were heard. I snatched up the cards and dealt them out. "If I win this one Mina-chan it's kiss city for you." Minako nodded cautiously and placed her cards on the floor. "Full house!" I jumped up in happiness. "ROYAL FLUSH! WOOHOO! I WIN!" I grabbed the cards and put them in my pocket before dragging Minako down to the boys. I went chibi and smiled at Mamoru. "Oh Mamoru-san Mina-chan has a present for ya." I pushed Minako forward on top of the suspicious Mamoru and she planted her lips on his. She then shot backwards standing next to me. "Hehehe I lost can you tell?" Mamoru wiped his lips and glared at us. "WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT FOR?" I smiled at him sweetly. "Well you see Mina-chan and I had a game of poker. First to three won and I won. The loser had to kiss you." Mamoru shook his head and sighed. "You guys have cards?" Motoki asked from lying on the booth. Nodding I pointed to the storeroom. "Yup we found a box of cards in there." He sat up and smiled. "Wanna play a cool game? It's called 52 pick up." I nodded slowly and smiled. "Ok how do you play." Motoki took the cards from my hand and shuffled them. He then proceeded to drop every single card on the floor. "Ok now pick them up." Minako giggled and Mamoru smirked at me. "NO FAIR! YOU SAID A CARD GAME!" Motoki shrugged. "Hey it used cards." I glared at him. "Games are supposed to be fun. THIS is no fun." I picked up all the cards and put them in a neat pile. "Hey Motoki-san I've got a game for you it's called 52 throw." I thrust the cards at him and stormed off. "HEY MAKO- CHAN! WANNA PLAY TIGGY!" Minako shouted after me. "GO AWAY!" I stormed into the storeroom and slammed the door behind me before locking it. "Mako-chan come out you've been in there for fifteen minutes now. COME ON JUST COME OUT!" Minako was pounding on the door and I glared at it. The lights were still dim and I could just make out the photo copier in the corner. My eyes lit up and I walked over to it. After inspection I found that it was battery operated (AN: Ok so that's just TOTALLY unbelievable) I opened it up and placed my hand on the screen. Pressing the green button I waited for my copy of my hand to print. It came out clearly and an evil glint filled my eye (AN: Not to be mistaken with that evil glint Ghani-chan sometimes get. Gomen personal joke shouldn't include it GOMEN!) I then proceeded to photocopy every part of my body with out being totally ecchi. 54 copies later I swung the door open and walked proudly to the booth minna was sitting in. "You came back?" I nodded and placed the copies onto the table. "What are they?" Motoki asked curiously flipping through the stack of papers. "Copies of my body parts." Mamoru choked and Minako giggled. "Don't worry Mamoru it's not ecchi." He sighed in relief and watched Motoki's face as he flicked through the stack. "What is that?" Grinning triumphantly I pointed to the lighter part of the picture. "That my friend is the back of my knee." Mamoru looked down at my attire. "But you're wearing pants now." I blushed and looked at the ground. "Well I kinda?never mind." "YOU TOOK YOUR PANTS OFF FOR THIS?" I blushed brighter and shrugged. "If I didn't then I would just be defeating the purpose." Motoki shrugged and continued to look at my copied body parts. I sat next to Mamoru and sighed. "Motoki I'm hungry is there anything to eat?" Mamoru nodded and looked at his own stomach. "Well there is but it would all be off by now. I mean the powers been off for what? Two hours three?" I sighed and patted my empty stomach thoughtfully. "You know if the phone was working we could order a pizza or something." I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Mina-chan what good would a pizza be if we couldn't get it in here?" "Oh right, heh well it was a suggestion at least." I smiled wearily and stood up. "Motoki-san may I please have a drink of coke or something?" Motoki looked up and smiled. "Of course you can Makoto-san just help yourself to a bottle in the back." "Arigato, anybody else want one." Mamoru nodded as well as Minako. I skipped to the back room and opened up the fridge. I grabbed the last bottle of coke without realising it and downed the whole thing. BURP! Reaching for two more I realised that I had just drunk the last one. Frantically searching for some coke I came across a shelf with glass bottles. I found one that looked like coke and sniffed it. A pungent aroma filled my nostrils and I took a small sip. It tasted a lot like flat coke so I shrugged and carried the bottle out to the others. "This was all I could find, Mamoru-san, Mina-chan you'll have to share this." Minako smiled and handed the bottle to Mamoru. "You can have the first half." Mamoru smiled and looked at the bottle. Because of the dim lights he couldn't see that it was much lighter then it should have been. "Are you sure this is coke? I mean it smells really, really odd." I shrugged and sniffed it. "Smells ok to me. Must just be your sinuses messing up." Mamoru shrugged and downed half a bottle. He burst into coughing fits and his face turned red. "Quick Makoto-san get him some water." Motoki demanded. I rushed behind the counter and grabbed a glass bottle with red writing on the side. I stared at it thoughtfully and could only make out the first two letters. V O. I shrugged and poured a milkshake cup full of it (AN: Milkshake cups are big remember that VERY BIG!). Rushing back to Mamoru, who had stopped coughing I handed him the glass. "Here Mamoru-chan drink this." He smiled thankfully at me and downed the whole glass in one. Coughing again. "Should I get another one?" Motoki shook his head. "Just let it pass." I nodded and sat next to Mamoru. By the time his coughing had subsided Minako had finished her share of the "coke" she was swaying a little in her seat and her eyes were very glassy. "Man that was the harshest water I've ever had, and coke. Makoto-san where'd you get that *hic* coke from?" I shrugged and pointed to the back room. "Same place I got my coke from and it was fine." Mamoru nodded thoughtfully before slumping forward. "Gee *hic* I sure do *hic* feel funny *hic* I feel like *hic* dancing *hic* someone join *hic* me?" I looked wearily at Minako then Mamoru. "Hmmm I think that coke was spiked." Motoki nodded and grabbed the bottle off Minako. He sniffed the empty bottle and sighed. "Makoto-san do you know what this is?" I smiled. "Coke?" He shook his head. "It's bourbon Makoto-san bourbon, you know the alcoholic drink supposed to be mixed with coke." I shrugged. "Oh well we need to liven this party up a little. Anyway I need a drink of water." I strode to the counter and poured myself a drink of water from the bottle I poured for Mamoru. I downed the whole milkshake cup at once. "Wow that water's really sweet. I think I'll have another one." I poured myself another drink and downed that. "Hey Motoki you want some water?" He nodded and strode over to me. After seeing the bottle in my hand he gasped. "Makoto-san that's not water it's vodka." I stared at the now blurry bottle in my hand and glared at it. The two red letter came into focus and I sighed. "Well that's no good is it? I wanted water. GOD DAMN IT!" Motoki sighed and pulled the bottle from my hand. "How can you not notice the difference between Vodka and water?" I shrugged and lurched over to Minako and Mamoru. "Mako-chan we need to liven this place up a little how about?OH I KNOW *hic* we'll give the boys a makeover. I call dibs on Motoki-*hic*san." I grinned and swayed on my feet. Stumbling over to Mamoru I grabbed a fistful of his hair and lifted his head up. "Hey Mamoru-san *hic* wanna make over?" He groaned and I let go of his hair sending his head hurtling back to the table. "Motoki- san get over here, I wanna make you *hic* pretty." Motoki backed away and shook his head. "No way Minako-san just concentrate on Mamoru." Minako got up and dumped the contents of her bag onto the table and arranged her makeup. "Am I really going to be *hic* beautiful? Will you *hic* make me beauteyful?" Mamoru was now awake and agreeing to the make-over. "Of *hic* course we will Mamoru-san." He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "You *hic* know I used to be a *hic* model. They made me look *hic* really beautiful just like *hic* Usako." Giggling like a mad man I grabbed some foundation and poured it into my hand. "Usa*hic*ko? Who is that?" Mamoru grinned sheepishly. "Shhhhhhhhhhhh don't *hic* say anything but?*hic**hic*Usako is my *hic* pet dog *hic* he's *hic* beautiful." Minako nodded thoughtfully. "Isn't *hic* Usako a girls name though *hic**hic**hic*" Mamoru nodded thoughtfully and shrugged. "Well maybe my dogs a girl?come to think of it I don't even have a dog. hmmmmmmm*hic*mmmmmmm. Strange that." I giggled and rubbed the foundation all of his face. It was packed on so thick that Mamoru's face went numb beneath it. "Gee *hic* I feel *hic* beauteyful already." Motoki approached us and sighed. "Well you guys it's almost 10.00 I'm gonna go sleep in the back room. There's plenty of blankets?somewhere. While you're drunk off your faces please don't break anything." Minako looked up from arranging her make-up to Motoki. "O*hic*K. Will do." I waved to Motoki from my kneeling position on the table. "Good night Motoki-chan *hic* sweet dreams or *hic* dirty ones." (AN: That's just for you MMJ!) Minako banged her hands on the table. "DIRTY! DIRTY! DIRTY!" (An: And that one's for Sere) Motoki rolled his eyes and shuffled away. "Ok Mamoru let's get some eye shadow on you hmmmmmmm what colour?" Minako dug through her collection of eyeshadow. "I know how about, pink, purple, orange and blue." Minako squealed in delight and thrust the colours at me. She picked up another one and chucked it into my lap. "Green." She explained seriously. I nodded solemnly and did streaks of each colour from the top of Mamoru's eye lid to his temple. "Oh Mamoru-san *hic* you're going to be soo*hic*ooo beautiful when we're done." Mamoru grinned sheepishly and hiccuped. "Ok now we need eyeliner and mascara." Minako handed me the needed items and I drew a thick black line around Mamoru's eye. I applied truckloads of Mascara onto his already thick eye lashes and giggled at the results. "Ok next?.blush." Minako thrust bright red blush to me and I dabbed large circles onto Mamoru's cheeks. "Um lip liner and lipstick." Once again the items were thrust in my direction and I applied red lip liner and green lipstick. "There all *hic* done. Mamoru you look *hic* beauteyful. Just like *hic* Usako." Minako hiccuped and grinned. "Mako-chan who is Usako?" I shrugged. "I *hic* dunno." Mamoru jumped out of the booth and to stumbled to the mirror. "AHHHHHHHHH*hic*HHHHH!" Minako snickered. "He screams like a girl." I nodded thoughtfully and turned to Mamoru. "Makoto-chan, Minako-chan you?you?you made me *hic* beauteyful. Thank you so much." Mamoru stumbled back over to us and wrapped us both into a tight bear hug. "You guys?*hic* you're so great." Mamoru wiped a tear out of his eye and fell to the floor cross legged. "So *hic* what now?" I turned to Minako and she shrugged and sat next to Mamoru. "How bout a game of I spy?" Mamoru's face lit up and he nodded eagerly. Minako nodded too and I sat next to them. "Ok I'll start. I spy with my little eye?something beginning with A." Minako and Mamoru looked around eagerly. "Um?Aardvark?" I shook my head at Mamoru and turned to Minako. She scrunched her brow. "Ah?I KNOW I KNOW Appendage?" I scrunched my brow and shook my head. "No sir*hic*ee. The answer is *hic* Arcade." Grinning Mamoru slapped his head. "Hehehe oh yeah." "MY TURN!" Minako screeched looking around frantically. "Um?.i spy with my little eye something beginning with?X." Looking around thoughtfully Mamoru and I turned back to Minako. "Um? eXhibit?" Minako poked her tongue out of her mouth in concentration. "Um?no I don't think so?it could be?Oh no." Mamoru shot up like a bullet. "I KNOW IT I KNOW IT!" Minako turned to him and nodded enthusiastically. "Xanthorrhea?" Minako nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah that's it." Mamoru's face lit up and he skipped around happily. "Oh wait no it's not?*hic* gomen." Mamoru slumped to the ground. "Oh wait I've got another one?Xenophobia?" Minako shook her head. "Hey isn't that a phobia of foreigners?" I raised my eyebrows. Mamoru nodded thoughtfully. "I think my dog has that." I explained seriously. "Really? My shoe used to have it but I took it to counseling." My eyes lit up. "Really? Did you cure it?" Mamoru shook his head sadly. "No the doctor sent me away. He told me to visit?a?oh yeah a mental hospital. Don't know why though *hic*." Minako nodded thoughtfully. "You know I've always wanted to visit a mental hospital they seem so wonderfully fun." I nodded in agreement. "Let's go there tomorrow." Mamoru suggested. I nodded enthusiastically and Minako squealed her approval. "Can we get bunny suits too?" "Yeah and pirate hats?" I started to get excited. "AND EYE PATCHES!" Minako stood up with her hand in the air. "We can be Pirate Bunnies." Mamoru nodded eagerly and pulled out a piece of paper (AN: Where'd he get that from? o.O) and scribbled out a list. (Where did his pen come from? o.O "And Mako-chan we need more of that coke and water." Mamoru said happily scribbling stuff down. I nodded and turned around to nothingness. "Let me just ask Moe. HEY MOE GET US SOME MORE OF THAT COKE?AND THE WATER!" Minako grinned and Mamoru continued writing things down. "YOU'RE NOT DRINKING ANY MORE!" Motoki's muffled voice came from the back room. "WHATEVER YOU SAY MOE JUST MAKE SURE YOU GET US THAT BUNNY COSTUME!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Ok here's the list for the trip tomorrow." Mamoru handed me his piece of paper which was covered in obscure scribbles. I squinted at it and looked at Mamoru. "What do we need post it's for?" Mamoru sighed and rolled his eyes. "To wrap up our lunch silly." I nodded and folded the piece of paper up shoving it in my pocket. "It was X-ray Machine." Minako suddenly stated. "Huh?" Mamoru and I turned to Minako and raised our eyebrows. "I spied an X-ray Machine. But it's gone now. It flew away on a dragon." I nodded and turned to Mamoru. "Did you write that we will need four Ukalalies?" Mamoru looked at me strangely. And Minako's jaw dropped as if I were an alien. "Why would you need four?" I sighed, rolling my eyes I pointed to Mamoru's shoe. "He's gonna need one silly." "Oh yeah I forgot." Minako giggled and lay onto her belly. She started to breaststroke across the arcade floor. "OH SAY CAN YOU SING THE BRIGHT ISLAND FLAME! AND WHEN WE WILL *HIC*! WE WILL SURELY BE FAMEous! YES MINAKO'S MY NAME! AND I WON THE BUTTERFLY! YES I WON THE ARCADE FLOOR SWIMMING AND THIS NATIONAL ANTHEM KICKS BUTT!" ? to the tune of star spangled banner. Minako stood atop a gold podium (two chairs stacked on top one another) and held three straws to her heart. Mamoru stood atop the silver podium (one chair) holding two straws. And I stood on the floor with one straw. "You know Minako I would of one the floor swimming if I could figure out how to do butterfly on the floor." Mamoru sighed and jumped off his chair. Minako jumped on his back and kicked his sides with her feet. "Mamoru- chan I wanna piggy back!" Mamoru put Minako on the ground and handed her a plush piggy. "There ya go, there's your piggy back." (Where'd he get that piggy? o.O) "Hey let's do arcade gynmastics." I shouted with glee "Gynmastics? How do you play that?" Mamoru raised an eyebrow and Minako petted her piggy. "Well Arcade Gynmastics is where you have to see who can stand on their head the longest." Minako clapped loudly and placed her piggy on the table. "Alright I'll go first." Minako went down into a back bend and put her arms and head on the ground. She then flung her legs onto her head and started to stamp on her own head. She lasted four minutes. "Wow Mina-chan you're flexible. You'd be good in a hentai fic." Minako un bent herself and stood up. "Why thank you Mamoru-chan." Minako's chest swelled with pride. "My turn now." Mamoru walked over to a buzzing machine and pressed the big red button. A walking talking clone of himself stepped out and Mamoru unscrewed the head. He then shoved the clone back into the machine and kicked the machine. It disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He then placed the clone head on the floor and put one foot on it. He lasted twenty minutes. Sighing I grabbed a crudely drawn picture of my head and placed it onto the floor. I jumped on it and stamped hard. I jumped off after a while and grinned. "How long was that?" I jumped up and down eagerly. Mamoru shrugged and looked at his watch. "Approximately??87 hours and 45 kilometers." I jumped in glee and whooped loudly. "But?you still didn't beat me. So I'm the winner." Mamoru clambered up the gold medal podium with three straws. I settled for silver and Minako stood on the floor. "Mamoru you're national anthem please." Mamoru nodded proudly and cleared his throat. "M. A. M. O! YOU KNOW YOU LOVE M. A. M. O YOU CAN SEE ME IN GYNMASTICS YOU CAN SEE ME IN FLOOR SWIMMING BUT YOU CAN'T RESIST THE LURVE CAUSE YOU KNOW YOU LOVE M. A. M. O! YOU KNOW YOU LOVE M. A. M. O! YOUNG MAN YOU KNOW I AM THE GREATEST AND YOUNG MAN YOU WISH YOU WERE ME! DON'T TRY TO DENY IT OR I'LL MAKE YOU EAT CHEESE! CAUSE YOU KNOW YOU LOVE M. A. M. O! YOU KNOW YOU LOVE M. A. M. O! THIS IS THE NATIONAL ANTHEM OF MY CITY. POPULATION 2! JUST ME AND MY SHOE! WOOHOO! I'M DONE KNOW OK BYE BYE! ? To the tune of? I think I saw YMCA in there somewhere. "Wow Mamoru-chan that was a beautiful anthem. I'm so jealous mine sucks ass compared to that." Minako walked back to her piggy while Mamoru wiped a tear out of his eyes. "It's beautiful ne? Just like me." I nodded solemnly and jumped off my chair. "Hey let's play THUNK it's really fun!" I stared at Minako who was swaying slightly. "Um?how do you play that?" Mamoru smacked his head. "You don't know how to play THUNK?" I shook my head sadly. "Well you get one minute. And you have to hit as many things as you can with your head in that minute and once you hit it you have to yell out what it was." My face lit up and I nodded eagerly. "Alright let's start." We all lined up at the door of the arcade. "On your marks?" "Get set?" "GO!" *THUNK* "COUNTER!" *THUNK* "BOOTH!" *THUNK* "AUTOMATIC DOORS!" *THUNK* "FIRE EXTINGUISHER!" *THUNK* "X-RAY MACHINE!" *THUNK* "ELEPHANT!" *THUNK* *CRASH* "GOLD MEDAL PODIUM!" *THUNK* "SAILOR V GAME!" *THUNK* "FEATHER!" *THUNK* "MAMORU-CHAN!" *THUNK* "PHONE BOX!" *THUNK* "THE NILE RIVER!" *THUNK* "THE CONTINENT OF AFRICA!" *THUNK* "MACDONALDS FAMILY RESTAURANT!" "TIMEEEEEEEE!" "Wow that was fun!" Mamoru exclaimed spinning around. *THOMP* He fell to the floor and closed his eyes. "Woah I don't feel so good." Minako and I helped him up and dragged him over to the wall next to the automatic doors. "Hey look the storm is STILL going! I should've brought my raincoat with me. I hate getting wet." Minako glared at the storm. "You know what I forgot?" "What Mamoru?" "I forgot my oven?oh and my kitchen sink." I sighed in sadness at the misfortune of poor Mamoru. "Of coursh Shailor Venush ish better than Shailor Jupiter?and that Tuxshedo Kamen ish jusht completely out of the picture." Minako slurred with her back leaning against the wall. "No way Tuxshedo Kamen ish sho much better than the Shailor Shenshi. I mean how unoriginal ish a bunch of girlsh dresshed in shailor fukush? Tuxshedo Kamen?now thatsh original. Who throwsh roshes? No one thatsh who. Tuxshedo Kamen ish sho original." Mamoru slurred his head sinking to Minako's side. "What do you think about all thish Mako-chan?" "*hic*". Minako's face lit up. "Well thatsh exactly what I thought I mean Shailor Venush wearsh orange and it suitsh her hair sho well. Don't you think sho Mamoru-chan?" Mamoru nodded hazily and looked at his watch. "Woah it'sh almosht midnight. I wonder if Motoki-chan ish shleeping well." "Hmmmmm yeah I think he ish." "WILL YOU GUYS KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE!" Motoki's muffled voice floated into our conversation. "Yeah he shounds like hish fasht ashleep. Good I'd hate to wake him up." Minako sighed longingly. "I wish Shailor Venush would come and reshcue us." Minako did a V for victory sign. "It would be the greathesht." Mamoru smiled and turned to me. "You know I'm glad we got locked in here caush I met you guysh. You two are the greatesht. You know our namesh all shtart with M's we can be the three M.eigo'sh." I smiled at Mamoru and nodded. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. Then he did the same to Minako. I stood up and stretched my legs. "HEY LET'S CHECK OUT THE LOST PROPERTY BOX!" I screeched running towards the Lost property box that was behind the counter. Minako and Mamoru followed and we started to dig through the contents of the box. Mamoru pulled out a size fourteen Princess Serenity dress and pulled it over his head. "How do I look?" Minako clapped her hands and pulled out a garbage bag and a newspaper sailor hat. She ripped three holes into it. One big one and two little ones. She then put her head through the big hole and her arms through the two little ones. She then placed the hat on her head. "How do I look?" I grinned and gave her a thumps up. I dug through and found?my henshin pen? I tucked that away into my pocket and admonished myself. I wondered where that went?last week. I finally pulled out a Spanish outfit with a fruit platter hat. I changed into the outfit and grabbed some maracas. "ARIBA! ARIBA!" I danced around the room and soon Mamoru and Minako joined in. We were in the middle of our costume dance when we heard a bang on the automatic doors. I spun around and tripped on some ruffles. I fell to the ground and grabbed Minako's garbage bag to steady my fall. She grabbed Mamoru's dress and we all ended up falling on top of each other. After untangling our body parts we finally stood up and made our way to the automatic doors. Rei, Yuuichirou, Ami and Usagi were standing on the other side of the automatic doors. Rei took one look at us all and fell to the ground in laughter. Ami rolled her eyes and Yuuichirou poked something into the lock. Usagi stood speechless on the spot. Her mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. Minako, Mamoru and myself turned away and started to dance again. After Yuuichirou jiggled the lock some more the door swung open. Rei, Usagi, Ami walked in followed by Yuuichirou who was careful not to shut the door. "ARIBA! ARIBA!" Ami took a seat and shook her head. Usagi's mouth was still opening and closing. "OK WOAH! WOAH! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?" We stopped in mid dance and glared at Rei. "Thanks a lot Rei-chan *hic* you just interrupted the three M.eigo's sacrificial *hic* dance." I put my hand on my hips and stuck my tongue out at Rei. "Why are you hiccuping? Why is Mamoru-san in drag and Mina-chan in a garbage bag? And where is Motoki-san?" Minako shrugged and turned on her heel. "Mamoru-chan is in drag because?I don't remember and I'm in a garbage bag cause I didn't want to get wet from the storm and Mako-chan is hiccuping cause we had this weird coke and she had some sweet water that Moe said was vodka." Usagi still speechless then fell to the floor in laughter pointing at Mamoru. "He's in a dress. And he has makeup on. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHHA! HEHEHEEHEHEHEHEHHEEHEHHEEHHEH! HE LOOK LIKES A GIRL!" Usagi rolled on the floor in laughter. Mamoru just grinned at her sheepishly. At that moment Motoki walked out looking perfect from his sleep. "Minna! Hi! What are you doing here?" Rei smiled at Motoki and gestured to Yuuichirou. "Well the locksmith called my temple and told us that he couldn't make it tomorrow because it was a public holiday, he said he couldn't make it till tomorrow night and I knew that you guys have things to do so I told him that we'd take care of getting you out but he still needs to come to cut you a new key etc." Motoki nodded and grinned. "How'd you get in?" Ami stood. "Well we knew we had to get you out of here before something happened so Yuuichirou said he knew how to pick locks and offered to drive us all down here and open the door for you." Yuuichirou smiled proudly and stared intently at my hat. "So what's with these three? Why are they?doing whatever they're doing?" Motoki rolled his eyes. "Well I made the mistake of letting Makoto-san fetch some drinks from the back room. She came back with a bottle of bourbon and Mamoru-chan and Minako-san shared it. They drank half each, straight. Oh and Mamoru also had a milkshake cup of vodka. Makoto-san thought it was water. She also had two milkshake cups of vodka thinking it was 'sweet' water. Rei rolled her eyes. "Trust them. Boy are they going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning." Motoki grinned and shivered as a burst of cold air from the open door blew through the arcade. Yuuichirou, still staring at my hat scratched his head thoughtfully. "Woah dude is that like a fruit hat? Is that fruit like real?" Yuuichirou let go of the door and walked over to my hat. "NO YUUICHIROU DON'T!!!!!!" Motoki, Ami and Rei all dived for the door just as it swung shut. Motoki wriggled the door handle and sighed. I dodged the advancing Yuuichirou and pointed at him. "DON'T TOUCH MY HAT BAKA!" "Well guys it looks like we're stuck here till tomorrow night. What time did the locksmith say he was coming?" Motoki stood and cracked his neck. "About four or five." Rei said in despair. "I'm stuck in here with that?" Usagi pointed to Mamoru and wailed loudly. "Do you know how much studying I will miss because of this. I've got four more chapters to revise before I can be 29 chapters ahead. That could take an hour or more. I can't waste Sunday's." Rei slapped her head. "I'm stuck in here with three drunken maniacs, Yuuichirou the bum and a meatball head. Could my life get ANY worse?" Motoki put his hand on her shoulder and turned to the others. "You guys I've got three beds set up in the back room I can make some more, would you like to join me?" Ami, Rei and Usagi nodded following Motoki into the back room. Yuuichirou chased me around the room trying to grab the big banana on the tip of my hat. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I head butted him with my hat and he went sprawling backwards. "Woah dude that was like awesome. I'm gonna go catch some Z's." He retreated into the back room with the others and it was us three again. "So what should we do now?" Mamoru sighed plopping down on the floor. "We could plan our trip to the mental hospital tomorrow." I sat next to Mamoru and shrugged. "No it's all planned Mako-chan." "I KNOW!" Minako clapped her hands in delight. "WHAT?" Mamoru and I asked in unison. "LET'S PLAY THUNK!" ------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------The End------------------------------- HE he he he. Boy was that fun? OH YEAH! Hehehe well I started writing this at 5.00 in the afternoon I'm finished now and it's 9.29 at night. WOOHOO! Record timing. Well just a little hint the more hyper I am the more capital letters I use so??I'M HYPER! YEY! And don't worry I'm not going to finish this there. I'm gonna do a second part with The others alright. He he he he that was the funniest thing I've written in ages. Oh yeah and please all of you Americans don't take offense to Mina's rendition of your national anthem. I was actually going to do the proper star spangled banner but couldn't find the words to it so I improvised. Well all that stuff that Minako, Makoto and Mamoru did whilst drunk. Please do not try at home, you may lose brain cells. Sigh this fic looks sooooo much better in times new roman size 14 with the page 75%. Anyway this is Cher signing off! Ja ne minna! =) Cher
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Chapter 8: Get Ready, Reenie!!! Hey, it's me again!!! Chibi-Mamoru Darien Chiba here. This is the last chapter before Reenie duels with her court. Once again, the world of Sailor Moon and its inhabitants are of Naoko Takeuchi's creation, not mine. If not for it, this fanfic and the others on the WWW would not exist. This story, the idea of the Adaptation Sceptre, the Sailor Scouts' daughters, Kerwin, Zaccheus, and Griffith are *mine*, however, and I ask that you please not copy them and take them for your use UNLESS you have my permission. OK? So without further ado . . . ***************************************************************************** It's now July 10, 2996. The time is 6:30 am. I have passed yesterday with more training with my mom Neo- Queen Serenity and my dad King Endymion which I'm paying dearly for right now. I have also gotten quite proficient at summoning and retiring the Adaptation Sceptre (getting the Sceptre out of storage and putting it back in storage, respectively). I'm studying the other sets of instructions Sandigeo sent me with the Adaptation Sceptre. I hope I at least get a glance at them before it's time to eat breakfast and go to training. The set of instructions I have right now is titled "Maintenance." It says that the Adaptation Sceptre is charged by induction and just about any energy source will adequately and safely energize it as long the computer circuitry is off. "But make certain that you have saved, hard coded and backed up the user data before you begin energizing the Adaptation Sceptre or the user data will be lost," I read. This message is in big red capital letters. Sandigeo must have wanted to make sure I see that. I get ready to summon the Adaptation Sceptre to be positive that the data I gave it the other day has been saved and then to hard code and back it up. But what stops me is the question of whether or not I'll be able to summon and retire the Adaptation Sceptre as myself. "Well, I should be able to summon and retire the Sceptre as myself," I reasoned with myself. "It knows that Reenie and Sailor Moon are the same person." I then stack my fists on top of the other vertically and pull my bottom fist away while thinking, "Form Adaptation Sceptre!!" A beam of dirty orange light forms between my hands and becomes the Adaptation Sceptre's handle. The bulb containing the Adaptation Amethyst forms soon after the handle does. "I am at your service, Sailor Moon," the Adaptation Sceptre said to me. "What can I do for you?" "I need some things explained, Sceptre," I replied. "What happens when I ask you to hard code and back up the data I gave you?" "Well . . ., it's hard to explain, Reenie," the Sceptre said uneasily. "Now what are some terms that you can understand?" I'm getting real annoyed at everyone trying to simplify things so that I can understand. I'm not some damn toddler!!! "Sceptre!!! Just spit it out!!!" I snapped. "I'm not as dumb as you obviously think I am!!!" "OK, Reenie. There are two types of computer memory, random-access memory and read-only memory," the Sceptre began. "They're also known as RAM and ROM, respectively. RAM is temporary and any information stored in it disappears as soon as the power is cut while ROM is permanent and keeps information even after the power is cut but doesn't allow the addition of any new information. The data you gave me is in RAM right now. If you turn me off right now, you'd lose it and we would have to start all over again. When I hard code the data you gave me, what I do is that I move the data into ROM and I also plant a copy in your DNA so that if you want to pass me down to your children, they'll be born knowing how to use me!! And then if your kids want to have kids of their own and pass me down to them, they'll also be born knowing how to use me and so on. Get the idea?" "Yeah, I do," I told the Sceptre. "But what about backing up data?" "Backing up data means I make a backup copy and send the original to your long term memory as insurance against memory crashes which are rare but do happen, Reenie," the Sceptre replied. "I'm going to take the liberty of backing up all the powers you adopt. The powers you adopt will not be transferred to your kids, though." I hear a knock at the door. It must be one of my parents coming to wake me up. "What was that?" the Sceptre asks me. "I don't know, Sceptre," I replied as I hide the Adaptation Sceptre under my pillow. At the next knock, I shout, "All right, I'm coming!!!" I go answer the door and Serenity is standing there. "Good morning, Mommy," I greet Serenity. "Oh, Reenie, you're up already," Serenity said in surprise. "Get some clothes on; it's time for breakfast." "Okay, Mommy," I agreed. "I'll be right there in five minutes." Satisfied, Serenity says that she'll expect me then and leaves. I fetch the Adaptation Sceptre from under my pillow, put a hand at either end, position the Sceptre horizontally, and push in on both ends while thinking, "Cancel Adaptation Sceptre!!" The Adaptation Sceptre becomes a beam of dirty orange light that gets shorter as I bring my hands together. Then there is a bright flash of light which has the power to make people forget all about seeing the Adaptation Sceptre and can be used against enemies in many ways against which I make sure to close my eyes as I have when I was practicing with the Sceptre yesterday, lest I forget about the Adaptation Sceptre!!!! I then get dressed and head off to breakfast. "You're late, Reenie," Endymion said flatly when I arrive. "What kept you?" I was trapped. I need a good reason for being late, but I don't want to tell him about the Adaptation Sceptre. Aha, I have it!!! "I was so busy listening to the birds sing I guess I lost track of time, Daddy," I replied. "I see," Endymion responded as he pauses and looks at me before resuming his meal. "I wish at times that I were a kid again. It seems that you have all the time in the world then. But then before you know it, you're a teenager having to deal with peer pressure, a rapidly changing body, teen love, school, etc. But then adolescence is over and you have to deal with . . . adulthood!!!" "Endymion!!!" Serenity scolded. Endymion gulps because he knows that he has just gone too far. "Let's cross that bridge when Reenie comes to it." "Sorry, Serenity," Endymion apologized. We finish breakfast without a word and Endymion gathers his courage and says, "Reenie, your mother and I discussed whether Hermione or Cara should go first and we're deadlocked because both our positions are equally valid. So I suggested that we give you the choice." I don't care because I don't really want to take part in the tournament tomorrow even though I had found much solace by bathing in the light of the full moon that has been refracted by the Adaptation Amethyst last night. I found out yesterday that letting sunlight or moonlight shine through the Adaptation Amethyst and then bathing in the refracted light heals emotional injuries. Sandigeo had warned me, though, not to look directly at the refracted light or I'll go blind and made it very clear to me not to overdo it because once I get hooked on using that technique, it can be very hard to stop. But now back to this. I never took the time to find out what the Sceptre can do. Selraina's lightning can be very useful against Ensign Venus if she decides to use her chain against me and would almost be overkill against Ensign Mercury since her powers are based on water and ice which conduct electricity. Ditto for Sandigeo's magnetism to a lesser degree more so for the former than the latter, I think. So it shouldn't really make a difference if Selraina and Sandigeo had taken the time to give the Sceptre some powers for me to work with before sending it to me. "Daddy, Mommy, would it hurt things if I were to think about this and then get back to you tonight or tomorrow morning?" I asked my parents. Endymion and Serenity look at each other; they had not expected that reply from me. "What do you think, Serenity?" Endymion asked. "Should we let her think it over?" "I don't think it would really hurt anything, Endymion," Serenity said rather skeptically. "Of course, you can, Reenie. I have a meeting to attend." Serenity then gets up and leaves. Endymion and I begin training at 9:30 am. Rather than concentrate on stamina and technique as I did with Serenity, Endymion wants to emphasize power and speed with me. After breakfast, I transform to Sailor Moon and join Endymion in the gym. "Okay, Reenie, let's warm up using a technique I learned but never had a chance to try," Endymion said. "Oh, and what's that, Daddy?" I asked Endymion, a bit skeptical.
"It's called proprioceptive neuromuscular facilitation, or PNF for short, Reenie," Endymion said. "Lay down and I'll show you what I'm going to do." Thinking I have nothing to lose, I lay down. Endymion grabs my right leg and pushes it gently as one unit to a little past sitting position. "Okay, Reenie, now push against me." I push against Endymion who is holding the angle gently but firmly and counting off five seconds out loud. Endymion stops and asks me if I'm feeling any pain. "Yeah, Daddy, it hurts a little," I replied. "It feels like someone just stuffed me in a trash can butt first." "Reenie, you just say the darnedest things!!!" Endymion laughed as he does to my left leg what he did to my right leg. "Okay, push against me and tell me if you feel any pain." "It hurts," I said to Endymion. Endymion stops and then he and I do hundreds of sit-ups, push-ups, and jumping jacks. "Okie, Reenie, from here to Fukushima," Endymion said after a short ride to the the northern outskirts of Crystal Tokyo. He then sets off jogging northward. "Daddy, wait!!!" I shouted after Endymion as I start out jogging after him. "Where is Fukushima?" "It's 83 miles and 1,760 feet away from Crystal Tokyo, Reenie," Endymion replied. "Race ya there!!!" Endymion then takes off running and I answer by taking off running in response. When I went running with Serenity, she and I did only 30 miles from the Royal Palace and back at a pace of 30 mph which means it only took us two hours to get the 60-mile run out of the way. I'm gonna get Endymion for putting me through this and Serenity and him for that bit in the Philippine Sea one of these days!!! "Jupiter Thunder, crash!!!" two female voices rang out. I glance to my left and see that it was Sailor Jupiter and Ensign Jupiter who had launched those attacks into the air as I run past. "What was that all about, Daddy?" I asked Endymion, worried about being hit accidentally. "That's just their way of saying good morning, hon," Endymion answered me without looking back. In a clearing ten miles away to the north, Sailor Mars is coaching Ensign Mars on how to use the Mars Celestial Fire. Ensign Mars notices me, but before she can say anything to me, Sailor Mars roughly drags her back to her lesson. As I approach, Sailor Mars and Ensign Mars break from training and cry out, "Mars Celestial Fire, surround!!!!" The mother- daughter barrage of fire rings shoots up into the air at a steep angle, crosses my path of travel, and speeds off upwards to meet its death in the thin upper troposphere. I assume that's Sailor Mars and Ensign Mars's way of saying good morning. This is too weird for school. Anyway, I run and run until Crystal Tokyo is just a distant point on the horizon. Endymion is a little ahead of me and is keeping up a good pace. "Come on, flamingo head," Endymion teased me. "I'm over 1000 years old and I'm ahead of you!!!" "Your legs are longer than mine, Daddy!!!!" I shouted back. "I'm getting tired, too." "You're too young to be tired, munchkin," Endymion laughed at me, not turning to look back at me. "How far is it to Fukushima now, Daddy?" I asked Endymion, ignoring his earlier remark to me. Endymion stops running and gets out his map and compass while I look over his shoulder. "Well . . .," Endymion said to me as we wait for the compass needle to balance, "Fukushima is north of Crystal Tokyo and . . .," the compass needle is now lined up with the Earth's north and south magnetic poles, "and we are heading north-northeast on a heading of fifteen degrees toward Fukushima." Endymion spots a town that spreads out ahead of us and off to our right and says, "That must be Fukushima. Come on." Endymion then puts his map and compass away and sets off again. I do my best to follow. My legs feel like they've been slow cooked in a Crock-pot for days. My muscles are so tender that I think that they're just going to fall off the bone. Finally, my body decides that enough's enough and I kneel down for a bit to still the world. I then get to my feet and try to keep up with Endymion. I don't make it far before my Sailor Moon powers shut down allowing the true feeling of exhaustion to sweep over me as I just collapse right there in the forest. Calling out my father's name is the last thing I can think to do before I pass out . . . "Reenie!! Reenie!!!" a voice shouted at me. I open my eyes and look up at Endymion who is shaking me and calling my name. "Finally, you're awake. Here, drink this." Endymion then puts a straw in my mouth and I suck in a cool liquid. "Daddy . . ., where are we?" I whispered to Endymion. "How long was I out?" "You were out for an hour and we're in Fukushima, Reenie," Endymion answered. "I have arranged for us to take the 5 pm train back to Crystal Tokyo. It's now 2:30 pm and we need to eat lunch and be back here at the train station before 5." At lunch, Endymion is ravenous while I can barely stand the sight of food. "Reenie, you're not eating," Endymion says. "I don't feel hungry, Daddy," I mumbled to Endymion. "Reenie, it's a long trip to Crystal Tokyo," Endymion told me. "You're going to be very hungry later. Please eat something for Daddy." I force-feed myself the whole bowl of rice, a couple of egg rolls and much of the teriyaki. "Why have you and Mommy been so mean to me, Daddy?" I asked Endymion who stops eating dead in his tracks. "I can understand the marital arts training, but why have you felt the need to push me so hard that my Sailor Moon powers crash?" "Well, your mother and I are trying to build up your endurance and stamina, Reenie," Endymion replied. "We only had seven days before the tournament, so we needed to force you to do a lot of work in a relatively short period of time in order to get you ready in time. Your being comatose for two days really put us in a time crunch and your mother and I had to take drastic measures to make up for lost time." "What about that bit in the Philippine Sea?" I asked Endymion. "That was part of your training as well as your punishment for running off and all the truama you put your mother and me through and the trouble you caused!!!!!" Endymion snapped. "That reminds me; I need to call your mother before she starts thinking that I kidnapped you and sends the Sailor Scouts after me. You WILL stay put UNTIL I'm done with my call, Reenie." Endymion then gets up and heads over to a pay phone. After he dials in the Royal Palace's phone number, Endymion looks over at me and I shrink under his steely gaze. Whoever said that blue is a color of tranquility lied big time!!! After Endymion finishes his call, I could see that he's visibly shaken from the conversation as he takes me by the hand, pays for our lunches and leaves the resturant. Endymion and I arrive at the train depo at 4:45 pm and we take a walk in the woods before lining up for the 5:00 pm train. Since the train travels at 200 mph, it only takes a little more than a half hour to arrive home in Crystal Tokyo. When we arrive at the Palace, it's 6 pm. "Where did you take our daughter, Endymion?!!?!" Serenity demanded. "I was about to deploy the Scouts after you!!!" "Reenie and I ran to Fukushima, a nice little town 15 degrees east of magnetic north as denoted by the 140th meridian of east longitude and only 83 miles and 1,760 feet from Crystal Tokyo, Serenity," Endymion replied. I use the diversion to retire to my chambers. I find that a letter had arrived for me. I waste no time opening it. It says: Dear Reenie: Heya, kiddo!!!! Sandigeo here. What's shaking? From what I heard, the tournament you're going to be fighting in is tomorrow. Nervous? Well, don't be; I have already programmed the Adaptation Sceptre with Selraina's lightning and my magnetism. There's enough of a charge as far as our respective powers and the Sceptre's power supply go to get you started. I also read that you have been given the choice whether to fight Ensign Mercury or Ensign Venus first. Choose Ensign Venus; her laser will be useful against Ensign Mercury as well as Selraina's lightning. Alternate between using my magnetism and Selraina's lightning on Ensign Venus when she lashes out at you with that chain of hers, but remember to *only* use the Adaptation Sceptre to weaken your opponents. Use some physical combat moves also. Unlike the powers of your opponents when you capture them, my magnetism and Selraina's lightning are temporary files on the Sceptre's computer. If you use them up without defeating Ensigns Mercury and Venus, you are in DEEP trouble. I have good news that I forgot to tell you in my last letter: Selraina and I are here on Earth in Crystal Tokyo as Shelly Desiree LaPhoenix and Sandra Gregory Naturalier, respectively, as judges for the tournament!!! We're going to personally make certain that your future court members behave themselves during this tournament, but that *does* NOT mean that you can just go hog-wild, Reenie. As judges, Selraina and I cannot show favor to you or your opponent, but we'll set up the rules before any fighting begins. We're counting on you not to blow our cover by referring to us by our Pollianian names. If you want to retell what happened to you on Pollianus, fine. BUT leave out the story behind the Adaptation Sceptre!!! The idea here is to make everyone think that you have always had the Adaptation Sceptre. If your parents and the Sailor Scouts learn otherwise, they will want to take the Sceptre away from you and either study it or try to destroy it. Try to be as sneaky as possible with the Adaptation Sceptre. If you're going to summon the Sceptre, be ready to use it *immediately* and then quickly retire it!! I also advise you to have the Adaptation Sceptre hard code the data you gave it during installation if you have not already done so. Don't worry, Reenie; everything's going to work out in your favor if you do your best and I know you will. Love, Sandra Gregory Naturalier (aka Sandigeo Grekari Rockheart) P. S.: Selraina also says hi and apologizes for the freaky stuff she did to you. I'll be watching her like a hawk should she get out of control. I have made sure Selraina knows that I have my eye on her along with everyone in the stadium. If my parents weren't so busy flaming me for playing with Selraina, I would have told you that being violated like that is not your fault. You told Selraina no and then she did it anyway. That *was* NOT your fault. Okay? Now go out there and accept nothing less than victory over all eight of your future court members!!! I waste no time in summoning the Adaptation Sceptre and asking it to hard code and back up the data I gave it. With that job out of the way, I retire the Sceptre, drop the letter on my bed, and rush off to tell Endymion and Serenity that I want to fight Ensign Venus first. They agree and then I rush off back to my chambers. Knowing that I have a leg to stand on as far as the tournament is concerned does a lot to put my mind at ease as I change into my nightie, climb into bed, and allow sleep to claim me . . . THE END So do you really think Reenie has a chance in tomorrow's tournament or what? Why? I think that Reenie has a chance because I'm the one writing the fanfic!!! So what do you think so far of this tale? Send comments, questions, etc to the usual place:
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51474
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Museum of Science and Industry
Have you ever wondered how museums decide what to collect or what they do with the stuff that they don't display? Find out here. Our Collections Centre holds our archive collections and about a third of the objects that aren't on display. Some might surprise you. Where else could you find the kitbox of a famous aviator stored above a machine for filling jam jars?
Most items in our collections were gifts. If you have something that you'd like to offer to the Museum, please contact us and tell us as much as possible about its history.
We welcome enquiries from people who would like to use our collections for research. If you can't visit the Museum, you can find details and images of our collections by using the Collections Online section.
About the Collections
Discover the what, why and how of our collecting and check out our range of information sheets.
Using the Collections
Our collections are available for study, handling and loan, as well as for display.
Explore the Collections
Explore our online collections and oral history databases and discover the background to one of our major collections.
Science Museum Group Journal
An innovative voice in discussions worldwide about science and its history, communication, and presentation in museums.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51479
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The Best of What's New
Self-taught activist Linda Stout doesn't cast herself as a modern-day working-class heroine in Bridging the Class Divide: And Other Lessons for Grassroots Organizing (Boston: Beacon Press, 1997), but she emerges as one anyway. Stout tells how she went from being the daughter of a poor tenant farmer to becoming the founder of North Carolina's Piedmont Peace Project, a diverse grassroots social justice organization made up mostly of poor people. Her life and work provide a model for her argument that social change movements, traditionally headed by middle-class leaders, need the language and energy of working-class people to succeed.
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"Making Peace" (St. Paul, Minn.: Independent Television Service), a four-part documentary airing on PBS in early February, profiles regular people pressed into action by the effects of violence on their lives. Clementine Barfield took her grief over her son's murder and channeled it into founding a national support group, Save Our Sons and Daughters. After successfully prosecuting her abusive husband, Pam Butler now helps other women find ways out of domestic violence. Check your local PBS listings for airdates.
With clarity and wit, David Quammen prowls the globe in The Song of the Dodo: Island Biogeography in an Age of Extinctions (New York: Scribner, 1996). In the Komodo dragon and the lemurs of Madagascar, he witnesses the way biologists struggle to avert these doomed species' almost certain extinction; in the ghosts of the Tasmanian wolf and the dodo, he offers us a look at doom itself. Quammen explains how island species, cut off from the larger ecosystem, are easily driven to extinctionÑand shows how human beings, having hacked the world into "islands" of wilderness in a sea of farmland and pavement, have triggered mass disappearances.
"You can't have development without somebody getting hurt," says a former World Bank executive in Catherine Caufield's Masters of Illusion: The World Bank and the Poverty of Nations (New York: Henry Holt, 1997). But the history of the bank's development aid offers shockingly little of the former, and plenty of the latter. A morbid fascination develops as Caufield describes how the brightest economic thinkers of the day came up with plans to help the world's poorest countries -- only to plunge them further into poverty. Rich reporting from the sites of some of the World Bank's most outlandish projects, along with an accessible economic analysis, makes for a compelling and important read.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51493
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One Direction~Short Stories
+ like
• Published: 28 Dec 12
• On 7 favourite lists
Blurb Here Are A Few One Direction Stories That Will Turn Your Frown Upside Down! (P.S. No Sexual Scenes Or Swearing Are In These Stories Therefore Are Suitable For All Ages) Thanks! .x
Font size
1. Harry Styles- Short Story
Emily's P.O.V:
"Blah Blah Blah..." Was all I could hear from the Maths teacher. God I hated these lessons, but I HAD to concentrate, since my GCSE's are next week. I walked out of Mr Jhon's class, not learning a thing, when a cute boy I haven't seen before came up to me and asked
"Hi! I'm kind of a newbie here and I was wondering if you could tell me where the MA1 class is?"
He said in a husky british accent.
"Sure! You can follow me if you like because my next lesson is in MA1 to!"
"Great! Thanks bye the way!" He said.
"Your welcome!"
We headed to MA1 class and the boy sat next to me.
"Umm...Harry Styles?"
I didn't notice I was gazing into his green emerald eyes, when the teacher scoffed, causing me to focus on the teacher. I was concentrating on my work and the teacher was on her phone (typical), when Harry whispered in my ear
"Whats you name love?"
"Emily, and I know your Harry Styles!"
"Yup, So wanna grab a coffee at Starbucks once we get out of here!? "
"Yes I would love to!"
"Good, and i have one more question!" Said Harry.
"Whats that?" I asked curiously.
"Will you be my girlfriend?!"
I think my heart skipped a beat, but I managed to say the word
"YES!" I said, however I think the teacher caught me and Harry whispering, so we both had detention. But I didn't care...we both smiled at each other, then Harry passed a paper in my hands. I opened it up and it read:
'At least I have detention with you! Wanna exchange numbers?'
I nodded at him and wrote my number on the paper and so did he...
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51495
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Skip to main content
R| 1 hr. 59 min.
Plot Summary
An ex-con is lured back into the drug trade.
Cast: Bin Won , Sae Ron Kim ,
Director: Jeong-beom Lee
Genres: Action, Thriller, Crime drama
This Man (2010)
Release Date: August 5th, 2010|1 hr. 59 min.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51499
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Alright -- I've lurked on this board for quite some time and gotten lots of ideas and help in building my car pc. But I decided that none of the software out there suited all my needs (mostly on the mp3 playback side). So here's my own package.
Its a VB6 app that runs with a MySQL backend and RealOne player as the mp3 playback plugin. My basis for the mp3 playback was to have similar functionality of Winamps Media Library, but easy to use and browse for a small touchscreen.
Here's some screens:
Here's the requirements:
• Windows XP (only OS I've tried it on)
• 800 mhz processor ( 1.5 Ghz or better for divx playback )
• 256 mb of ram or more
• *** Screen size of 800x600 only ***
• MySQL Database Server
• RealOne Player ( application uses real object for playback )
And here's the files you'll need for the application itself:
Extract the zip right to the root of c:\
(the app is VERY early in development and everything is hard coded right now)
Some notes:
• To add songs to your media library, use the 'Manage' button and point to your media directory (the app might not recognize ID3v2 tags - I'm lazy, haven't updated that part yet)
• The album image is taken from the first .jpg the app finds in the path of the mp3 its playing
• Read the install text file included - paths and database names and account names need to be exact for this to work right now
• The Navigation link is hardcoded to my iNav exe and won't work for ya (sorry) -- create an external app link instead to launch your nav (at least until I put some effort into this thing
• The 'Watch' fuctionality is VERY rudimentary right now (I'm runnin this on an 800 mhz machine that won't play back divx so I didn't bother finishing it yet, but it should work if you point it to your video directory.
There are many bugs I know of:
• Cannot find image error on song change (happens randomly)
• In 'Song Search' - Replace Selected and Add Selected work poorly
• App bugs out sometimes when 'Removing missing media from database'
Anyhow -- this works great for me so I thought I'd share. I've got no timeline on updates or bugfixes, but I'm sure I'll get to it eventually. Enjoy, and please be kind -
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51503
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Royal College of Ophthalmologists Guidelines (Focus)
Management of endophthalmitis
Endophthalmitis is one of the most devastating eye complications that can occur following intraocular surgery. If the outcome is to be successful, it is essential that the diagnosis is recognised and not denied. Once the diagnosis is made, treatment should begin without delay to avoid further erosion of visual acuity.
Signs and symptoms
Symptoms may include pain, loss of vision, swelling or redness of the eye and discharge following surgery, but some cases may be asymptomatic. Signs may include injection or chemosis, corneal oedema, flare and cells or frank hypopyon, or fibrin clot in the anterior chamber. A relative afferent defect may be found. Vitreous cells or abscess may be seen but often no view of the posterior segment is possible; sheathing of retinal vessels may occasionally be seen. When the signs are pronounced, the diagnosis is not in doubt, but sometimes only a relatively low-grade inflammation is observed. If these signs cannot be explained, or if there is any doubt, the eye should be treated as if it were infected.
A 'therapeutic trial of steroids' can be particularly misleading since, even in endophthalmitis, there may be an initial favourable response. If in doubt proceed to vitreous biopsy and anterior chamber tap.
To date, there has only been one large prospective randomised study on the management of endophthalmitis. The Endophthalmitis Vitrectomy Study (EVS)1, recently completed in the USA, has greatly simplified our approach to treatment, which should begin immediately diagnosis is made.
In all cases, where the acuity is better than light perception, a single-port vitreous biopsy via the pars plana should be performed using a vitreous cutting-suction device. (Disposable devices are now available which allow the procedure to be done outside the operating theatre if necessary with even less delay. this can be useful in outreach clinics). The specimens are directly smeared, for Gram stain etc, and plated for culture.
The space created by the biopsy is sufficient for direct intravitreal injection of antibiotics. In the EVS, amikacin and vancomycin were used. Gentamicin and cefuroxime would have supplied virtually the same degree of broad spectrum cover. The study showed that there was no advantage in the concurrent administration of intravenous antibiotics. The antibiotics may be made up as detailed later.
Only when the visual acuity is perception of light is there an advantage in performing a formal three port vitrectomy, from the point of view of both final acuity and media clarity. Intensive topical antibiotics are not required, unless there are specific wound-related problems or co-existing microbial keratitis.
The EVS did not address the specific question of intravitreal steroids and to date their use remains unsubstantiated. In general terms, high dose systemic prednisolone may be given eg 60-80mgs daily, rapidly reducing to zero over a week to 10 days. Steroids are contraindicated if there is a fungal infection. If the clinical course warrants it, the biopsy and intravitreal antibiotic injection may be repeated after 48 to 72 hours. this may allow review of the choice of antibiotic in light of the culture results as well as the clinical progress.
No study to date has effectively looked at the question of antibiotic prophylaxis. Proper pre-assessment of the patient, identifying and treating risk factors such as blepharitis, mucocoele of the lacrimal sac, or conjunctivitis is probably more useful than blunderbuss prophylaxis.
Skin and conjunctival sac preparation with 5% aqueous povidone iodine, at least five minutes before surgery, is safe and effective in significantly reducing ocular surface flora. Instillation of this material into the sac at the end of the procedure may be additionally effective.
The use of antibiotics in irrigating solutions has been widely condemned and the choice of vancomycin can be especially criticised from a public health stance because resistance to vancomycin has been encountered in MRSA.
Active prophylaxis by intravitreal injection of antibiotics after repair of penetrating trauma is probably beneficial.2 The EVS did not consider the management of endophthalmitis developing other than post-operatively. It may be reasonable, however, to adopt a similar approach to management in these other cases but no firm guidelines can be given.
1. Results of the Endophthalmitis Vitrectomy Study. The Endophthalmitis Vitrectomy Study Group. Arch Ophthalmol 1995; 113; 1479-1496.
2. The criteria for intravitreal antibiotics during surgery for removal of intraocular foreign bodies. Seal DV, Kirkness CM. Eye 1992; 6: 465-468.
1. Gentamicin
200µg in 0.1ml
1. Take 0.5ml from a vial of gentamicin containing 40mg/ml
2. Make up to 10mls with normal saline or balanced salt solution (BSS) in a syringe.
3. 0.1ml of this solution=200µg
NB Minims of gentamicin are unpreserved and contain 3000µg per ml. These may be used.
2. Amikacin
0.4mg in 0.1ml
1. Reconstitute one vial - 500mg - and make up to 10ml with BSS
2. Withdraw 0.8ml (using 1ml syringe) and make up to 10ml with BSS
3. Withdraw 0.1ml of this - 0.4mg
3. Cefuroxime or Vancomycin
1000µg in 0.1ml
1. Reconstitute a 250mg vial with 8mls of saline or BSS
2. Withdraw entire contents and make up to 10mls with saline or BSS
3. Inject 2mls back into vial and make up to 5mls in the vial with saline or BSS
4. 0.1ml of this solution - 1mg (1000µg)
For smaller doses adjust the volumes accordingly.
4. Amphotericin
5µg in 0.1ml
1. Reconstitute a 50mg vial with 10mls of saline or BSS
2. Withdraw 0.1ml of this and make up to 10mls in a syringe.
3. 0.1ml of this = 5µg
Alternatively inject entire contents of a 50mg ampoule into a 1 litre bag of Ringer-Iactate and 0.1ml of this contains 5µg.
5. Clindamycin
1000µg in 0.1ml
1. Draw up the contents of a 2ml ampoule (300mg) and make up to 3ml in a syringe with normal saline or BSS
2. Withdraw 1ml of that and make up to 10ml in another syringe with normal saline or BSS
3. 0.1ml of that contains 1000µg
Intravitreal Drugs
NB The intravitreal dose is given in 0.1ml except when combination therapy is used and 0.2ml are given. In emergencies it may be necessary to prepare drugs for intravitreal injection without the assistance of the pharmacist. Avoid solutions or preparations containing preservatives. The quantities for intravitreal injection may be drawn up in 1ml syringes, and injected with a 25 or 27 gauge needle. Make sure to fill the dead space with antibiotic solution.
Focus Published by the Royal College of Ophthalmologists 17 Cornwall Terrace, London NW1 4QW
More Guidelines
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51513
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Plain lonely
(43 Posts)
onemoredayplease Wed 22-May-13 22:52:18
That's it really. Am lonely. We don't sleep together, can't remember the last time we had sex, very little affection usually only when I initiate. Don't really do anything together, don't even usually eat a meal together. Am lonely, tired and sad. I have a 10 year old living with us. I work full time in an emotionally demanding job could just do with some support which is freely given. hmm
Ilikethebreeze Mon 27-May-13 21:20:35
Are you married?
springymater Mon 27-May-13 09:56:15
Well done onemore. YOu're sounding really positive. Well done for grasping the nettle. Wishing you the very best in your future.
onemoredayplease Sun 26-May-13 20:09:16
Thanks both. Am in a good place at the minute. A trip home always helps me. Bit by bit things are working through. I now know I won't leave my job or the county where I live. That's two out of the 3 decisions I was wrestling with made and I feel content with those decisions. They are mine. Made calmly and rationally. The last is the biggest but I will get there. I now know its not me being unrealistic. This isn't normal. Even that helps. Thanks all. smile
DippyDoohDahDay Sun 26-May-13 18:58:45
Op, good on you. I get the bit about third marriage, I have just divorced my second husband and have just posted about loneliness and fear that I won't meet anyone...I read your thread and just think wow, get you, excellent. You can't settle for that, it's stifling and suffocating. Best wishes
StrangeGlue Sun 26-May-13 18:46:38
You can find a counsellor at the link below. Most do evenings, you could go after she goes to bed?
onemoredayplease Sun 26-May-13 18:29:51
Been away for a couple of days with daughter. Think I know the outcome of this. It's not a normal relationship. I had been toying with the idea of relocating nearer to my family. I now know that's not what I want so that's one question answered. No matter what happens daughter and I will be in this county. Just making this decision helps. It breaks it down. It's not such a huge challenge now if I leave. I say if but I think I mean when. Taking daughter out for a drink in the sunshine now, he doesn't want to join us despite not seeing us for 48 hours. Says it all really. No mad passion here confused
springymater Sat 25-May-13 09:28:10
YOu are far from unrealistic. I don't know what's going on either, but it is daily rejection, very very painful.
You can't carry on like this, it's unbearable. Do research getting to counselling during work time. In fact, can you get some counselling through work?
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 22:15:49
Not sure. It's a possibility. Work are hugely supportive of me. My line manager is aware I have issues at home. It's all just so odd. Surely a partnership should be just that or am I unrealistic? I don't expect a lot. I am independent but I find this so weird. I just noticed he's marked on the calendar when he's off out with his son. No invite for us. Not even mentioned just put on the calendar.
springymater Fri 24-May-13 21:52:18
that sounds like hell. Well, the whole thing sounds like hell. Can you get time off work to go to counselling? I really think you need it to work through this with someone. It sounds so painful sad
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 21:42:02
I'm not happy that I have to justify myself but I'm afraid I do when it comes to childcare. Just another sign that its an odd relationship. I would expect a partner to do this willingly and to offer when he can see I need time out but that just doesn't happen.
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 21:39:35
No she isn't his daughter and they don't really get on. As I say we pretty much lead lives independent of each other so to ask him to babysit I would have to give a reason. It's just how it is. As I work full time I am really restricted.
springymater Fri 24-May-13 17:43:59
Hang on - you're married, right? So the kids are both your kids, surely. ok he may not have adopted your daughter, but she's one of the children in your marriage.
I'm not quite getting how you have to justify with him time away from her. How about you'd like some time to yourself? You don't have to justify that.
She's 10 isn't she? What about going to a counsellor when she's at school.
(I'm finding it really hard to get my head around this tbh)
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 17:31:36
No she's not his child.
mummytolucas411 Fri 24-May-13 16:48:42
I don't think she's his child.
springymater Fri 24-May-13 16:16:56
its not babysitting though, is it, when she's his own child?
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 14:19:56
It's not the money. We have seperate accounts. I would have to explain why I need him to babysit. It's that simple. He won't volunteer to have her and will need a reason confused
springymater Fri 24-May-13 12:44:55
YOu don't have to explain why you want counselling, unless the money is joint and you have to run it by him before you commit? Does he have any hobbies/expenses that come out of the joint purse - if so, this is your hobby/expense. You absolutely don't have to justify or explain why you want counselling. That's like justifying why you want to go for eg a swim - you just want to.
triathlonmum Fri 24-May-13 12:31:41
Thanks Springy, been looking at some counsellors from that site - promising.
Onemore - would a friend have your daughter while you went to counselling?
onemoredayplease Fri 24-May-13 07:26:27
Problem for me is childcare. I am reliant on him for this. It's the one point where he has control. I know he doesn't like me to ask and she really doesn't like being left with him ( to be fair she hates being left at all). This would make it difficult to go for counselling without him knowing. Don't feel I could explain why I want to see a counsellor.
springymater Fri 24-May-13 01:05:49
YOu can get cheap counselling. Either find a therapist through BACP and ask for a reduced rate (the answer's yes or no, they won't be offended to be asked) or through women's orgs.
It's an investment, not an added extra. it's worth paying for.
triathlonmum Thu 23-May-13 22:52:59
Some helpful views here. I've thought about counselling on my own too - but it is a big (time and money) to find a 'good' counsellor?? I've only told two very close friends how difficult my marriage is so don't exactly want to start asking around! Onemore - the idea of separating is terrifying to me, I completely identify with what you're saying - it's not awful but it really isn't a marriage/relationship. I also feel like a single parent much of the time and have thought at least if we separate he'd have to take some parental responsibility!!!
Maypole your post was interesting, maybe I'm just not yet at the point where I can make the leap. I'm just past 40 and as you say aware time is flashing past. Ho hum.
onemoredayplease Thu 23-May-13 19:11:01
I do hear what you are all saying but I really think he is oblivious to what's going on. In his world he is content and this is normal. I do worry about daughter. Realistically I don't think I treat her as a partner. We have a very loving relationship and do a lot together. As I say he is asked but normally says no. Tonight as normal daughter and I will eat. He is off out and will cook his own later. I might as well be a single parent.
springymater Thu 23-May-13 11:40:50
Get some counselling yourself. Perhaps later down the line you may be able to make it a condition of your continuing relationship that he comes too ie you start separate couples counselling.
I should imagine two husbands cheating on you has had an awful impact on you (you poor thing sad ). Perhaps you don't find it easy to trust? It won't be healthy for her if your 10yo daughter is 'like a partner' to you (I'm sure she isn't entirely but you seem unsure whether she is like a partner or not..) - please be aware that this is a very damaging dynamic for her if so. She is also living in the soup that is a miserable marriage - don't be fooled that she isn't imbibing it on some level.
he obviously has his own gripes and you both appear to be very unhappy and you've both said you are lonely. He can't be saying to you that you're 'stuck with him for life' - I'm sorry, he doesn't have the right to dictate that to you. I'm not sure what he means by that - does he mean that he isn't going anywhere and won't give up on the marriage, that it is a lifelong commitment for him? But his actions say otherwise ie his body is there but he is leading a pointedly separate life. Perhaps he is doing that in protest that your daughter takes his place? It's not a healthy way to go about things, if so. He may be punishing you... or he may be desperate... it's impossible to tell what's really going on with him unless - and until - he comes clean.
YOu both sound desperate. Get to counselling - just you. And see where it leads. I hope you can make a way through this for all your sakes.
CogitoErgoSometimes Thu 23-May-13 09:03:24
"Perhaps I'm too independent and he doesn't feel needed??"
Why are you blaming yourself? Why blame the relationship with your daughter? Why keep initiating affection only to have it thrown back in your face, rejected?
A loving relationship is a two-man job. Currently yours seems to be very one-sided and that's quite wrong. If he's lonely and you're lonely, why persist in making two people unhappy? Dead horse... flog....
I think he is quite happy as he is and has no wish to change what little he has. He does not care about you or your DD and he knows too that you don't want to leave currently.
Better off to be apart and happier than to be together and miserable as you are now. You should not feel obligated to stay. He is not doing anything to improve things, infact I do not think he wants to. He is supposed to be your H but he certainly is not acting like one.
Your DD does not like him and you're both showing her a poor relationship role model. By staying you are showing her that your own feelings are unimportant and that trying to address problems is met with silent treatment from him. Is this really what you would want her to repeat in her own relationships, you're showing her that this to you is currently acceptable. Do not make this model a template of her own future relationships.
Where do you see yourself in a year's time?.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51518
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1. Welcome to the Muppet Central Forum!
2. "Muppets Most Wanted" Fan Reactions
3. "Muppets Most Wanted" Original Soundtrack
Bee puppet on eBay
Discussion in 'Puppets For Sale' started by Frogpuppeteer, Mar 28, 2011.
1. Frogpuppeteer
Frogpuppeteer Well-Known Member
2. D'Snowth
D'Snowth Well-Known Member
Gee Julio, why would you want to sell one of your puppets? I mean, if he hasn't found his voice, you can at least use him as a general purpose puppet, y'know? Like crowd scenes and such?
3. Frogpuppeteer
Frogpuppeteer Well-Known Member
ive thought of but i have so many characters right now, i want to have this guy find his true calling i know someone can give him the screen time i couldnt
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51523
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You are here: >
Families / £2 per child. / Last entry 3.30. Drop in.
The Land of Cleopatra
This event has finished. 2630 May 2014, 11am - 4pm
Although Egypt became part of the Roman Empire it still had a very strong identity. In this half term workshop we look at Roman Egypt through crafts and activities.
To the Romans Egypt was exotic – and a little bit dangerous; think of the reputation that Cleopatra has! With a long and rich history, Egypt wasn’t about to give that up after it became a Province of the Roman Empire in 30 BC. There was a thriving trade with other parts of the Empire; grain was shipped to Rome and Egypt became known as ‘the bread basket of the Empire’.
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The Daisy Duke Diet
Does America's obsession with Jessica Simpson's waistline represent a health hazard?
Jessica Simpson, the Texas-born singer/actress/model who famously could not tell chicken from tuna, has apparently been downing more chicken-fried steak recently: She gained an estimated 30 pounds over the last few years. Supporters of the reupholstered Jessica point out that she now merely resembles an average woman; while her chief selling point was always that she did not resemble an average woman, the fuss over her fluctuating avoirdupois raises the question of why we are so obsessed with pop stars’ weight troubles, and whether paying such close attention may be harmful to impressionable young girls.
In particular, does it cause anorexia nervosa, the terrible mental illness whose victims starve themselves, sometimes to death?
Prof. Christy Greenleaf of the University of North Texas thinks so. She has written:
Girls and women, in our society, are socialized to value physical appearance and an ultra-thin beauty that rarely occurs naturally and to pursue that ultra-thin physique at any cost. Research demonstrates that poor body image and disordered eating attitudes are associated with internalizing the mediated (i.e., commodified, airbrushed) bodies that dominate the fashion industry.
The narrative is a plausible one, and it fits a familiar template: Big business uses mass media to destroy consumers’ health by creating harmful desires. Yet there are large parts of it that don’t hold up.
In the first place, anorexia is not in any way an artifact of our modern, weight-obsessed society. Thomas Hobbes wrote about it in the 1680s. A 1987 study showed that anorexia in the United States increased throughout the 19th century and peaked around 1900, when chorus girls were voluptuous and the boyish flapper look was still two decades away. A similar historical trajectory has been found for eating disorders in France. Some interplay of genetic and environmental factors may be at work in these cases, or they may have resulted from the common pattern in medicine of certain diagnoses’ rising and falling in popularity. But it’s clear that none of these outbreaks can be attributed to the late-20th- and early-21st-century emphasis on skinniness.
There are plenty of other examples. The medical historian I. S. L. Loudon has identified chlorosis, the 19th-century “virgin’s disease,” with anorexia and shown that diagnoses of it reached “epidemic proportions” in Victorian England before disappearing completely between 1900 and 1920. A pair of Dutch historians has traced the practice of severe self-starvation all the way back to the early Christians and described the various explanations that were offered for it over the centuries (holiness, witchcraft, demonic possession, miracles, various nervous or emotional disturbances) before a newly scientific medical profession defined it as an illness in the mid-19th century.
All these statistics must be taken as rough indications only. Eating-disorder rates, like those for most psychiatric illnesses, are notoriously slippery, since the conditions are so hard to pin down. Journalists sometimes say that anorexia rates have been increasing for decades, as Americans’ lives have become more media-saturated; one source reports that anorexia in young adult females has tripled over the past 40 years. This is a case of the common phenomenon in which growing awareness of a condition leads to increased diagnosis of it, even when there is no real increase in its prevalence. Researchers who have carefully studied the data conclude that there has been no significant change in the rate of anorexia in America since at least the mid-20th century.
Moreover, while it’s tempting to blame America’s appearance-obsessed culture for the plight of its self-starving daughters, anorexia is a global phenomenon. A 2001 article reviewed the extensive literature on eating disorders among residents of Europe, Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Australia. In some regions, the reported rates of anorexia were several times that of the United States (though, as above, such figures must be taken with caution). In a case of political correctness attacking itself, one researcher says those who attribute anorexia to media sexism are being ethnocentric: “The biomedical definition of anorexia nervosa emphasizes fat-phobia. . . . However, evidence exists that suggests anorexia nervosa can exist without the Western fear of fatness and that this culturally biased view of anorexia nervosa may obscure health care professionals’ understanding of a patient’s own cultural reasons for self-starvation.”
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Taking a role call.......anyone on this forum in Shrewsbury?
Reason....I am talking with the Open Space committee about trails in town. They are receptive so far. Trying to get an idea of possible usage of future new trail system and volunteers for construction.
And if your scratching your head......there is actually "some" open space left in Shrewsbury.
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The Vine
Obama Could Sell Cap-and-trade Better
This is a tad dated, but I just went back and read over Obama's remarks to the Business Roundtable last Thursday. The portions dealing with climate policy are, if not newsworthy, at least nicely indicative of the administration's thinking on the subject. For starters, Obama isn't swayed by the argument that a recession is a horrible time to cap carbon emissions. As he points out, any cap-and-trade system passed this session wouldn't get chugging along until 2012 at the earliest, at which point we should be out of this economic crisis (if not, we've got even bigger problems). He also makes a nice pitch for long-term planning:
That's a fair pointa number of utilities and energy companies have reportedly been skittish about making big investments because they're unsure what carbon regulations are sliding down the chute, exactly. Getting some certainty on that, and soon, would be helpful. Meanwhile, Obama does... only an okay job explaining why the pollution credits in any cap system ought to be auctioned rather than doled out for free:
Now, the experience of a cap and trade system thus far is that if you’re giving away carbon permits for free, then basically you’re not really pricing the thing and it doesn’t work, or people can game the system in so many ways that it’s not creating the incentive structures that we’re looking for. The flip side is, you’re right, if it’s so onerous that people can’t meet it, then it defeats the purpose and politically we can’t get it done anyway. So we’re going to have to find a structure that arrives at that right balance.
This isn't quite right. Let's try it this way: Under any cap-and-trade regime, Congress sets an economy-wide limit on carbon emissions, and then distributes tradable rights to pollute, either through an auction, or by handing them out to companies for free, or some mix. No matter how you distribute the permits, there are only a scarce number of them, and hence, they have value. That means that you're putting a price on carbon no matter what, and fossil-fuel prices will rise no matter what. (Even utilities that receive free permits will still jack up their electricity prices, to make up for the opportunity cost of not selling their permits. That's what happened in Europe.)
So the price of coal and oil and gas will rise regardless of how you distribute the permits, and carbon emissions should come down either way. But if Congress auctions off the permits, it can use the revenue to, say, rebate money back to Americans. If Congress gives the permits away for free, though, certain companies will reap big windfall profits instead. Now, that might not be bad for a few particularly energy-intensive firms that would be especially crunched by a carbon capletting them pad their a bit profits might give them space to adjust. But realistically, there's going to be a lobbyist feeding frenzy to decide who gets how many free permits, so it's a lot more efficient if most or all of the permits are just auctioned off. Also, there are distributional consequences to the two approaches, as this CBO chart (via Dave Roberts) shows:
Click to enlarge if that's too small, but there on the left, you see what happens if the permits are auctioned off and the revenue is divided among Americans equally. The overall impact is actually progressive, and lower-income households come out aheadthe extra amount they pay for dirty energy is more than offset by the rebate. But if the permits are given out to companies for free, it's only wealthier Americans who benefitthey're the ones running the companies making windfall profits, after allwhile everyone else gets squeezed. So this is arcane but important! Obama's explanation was decent, and I guess he didn't want to get all class-warfare-y with the Business Roundtable, but he still needs to find a compelling way to make this point.
--Bradford Plumer
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51740
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When the snake became a man,
he couldn’t stop swallowing
one rat after another until
he became so large he couldn’t
constrict his prey. He hired
a number of smaller snakes
not men or barely so to strangle
the rats for him and a surgeon
to make an opening in his tail
over which he wore a velvet hat
when not extruding his meals.
When the elk became a man,
he found he wanted longer horns
and took it as a sign from God
that horn-grow cream appeared
around the same time as his wish.
He dipped the tips of his antlers
faithfully into the jars, having
first glued their bottoms to his sink—
it was just too awkward otherwise.
Soon his rack became so high
he could not raise his head
so bought a titanium crane
that followed him on little wheels,
took pictures, and sorted his socks.
When the whale became a man,
it was really no big deal, the whale
already a Sea World celebrity,
people used to seeing him in a tux.
The orca bit would have to go,
of course, the cant about his not being
such a killer. No, he liked to kill
well enough, it was his culture
and he wasn’t going to be ashamed
of it any more than werewolves were
of theirs. He thought he’d write a song.
When the man became a man,
his dog became despondent,
having been a man himself
for quite some time. “A fine
thing to do at our stage of life,”
he said. Best friends with the man
for many years, he understood
the strange things likely to happen
when a man became a man.
The TV would go for one thing
and who knew what else after.
He wasn’t about to wait around
and watch the transformation.
He packed up his bones
in their matching bone cases,
dusted off his real-estate license,
and headed down the road.
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51758
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Benefits of Cardio Exercise
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Benefits of Cardio Exercise
By Diane Hanson
You are often told that regular exercise is good for you, but do you know that cardio exercise is particularly beneficial for your overall health and well-being?
Cardio exercise, or areobic exercise refers to a wide range of physical activities that use the major muscle groups in the body (such as muscles in your legs and arms) in a continuous manner, and cause your heart rate to increase.
There are a multitude of physical activities and sports that can be considered as cardio exercise. For example, walking, running, swimming, as well as rope jumping. Rowing, biking and doing step aerobic exercises also fall under this category of cardio training.
The health benefits of cardio exercise are well documented in numerous medical studies, ranging from weight loss to increasing lung capacity and strengthening your heart. Let's have a quick look at a few of them:
1. Aids Weight Control
Cardio exercise plays an important role in weight reduction and weight control because it burns excess calories. When you burn off more calories than you consume, weight loss will occur. According to the Mayo Clinic, 35 minutes of low impact aerobics can melt away approximately 300 calories.
Moreover, regular cardio training helps you build muscles to burn more calories and stored fats, even at rest. Therefore weight loss becomes a lot easier and faster to achieve.
However, cardio exercise alone will not always result in weight loss. Exercise along with a healthy, low-fat diet is a surefire way to reduce excess weight and keep it off for life.
2. Prevents Heart Disease
Regular cardio activity can also help prevent heart disease by lowering high blood pressure and bad cholesterol while reducing your risk for lifestyle diseases such as Type 2 diabetes and some cancers.
Apart from strengthening your heart muscles to fight heart-related problems, cardio activities will help improve the lungs function as well.
In addition to its heart-protecting benefits, weight-bearing aerobic activities such as dancing and walking will also help build up bone strength, thereby reducing your risk of osteoporosis.
3. Improves Self Image
Cardio exercise also provides amazing mental health benefits. It can naturally increase serotonin levels, the "feel good" brain chemical, which make you feel happier, less depressed and less stressed.
Because of the positive physical health effects of exercise – improved muscle tone and weight loss – you will have greater self esteem and healthy body image. Additionally, cardio activity is also a natural sleep aid, which leads to a more positive mental attitude in your life.
To reap the maximum benefits from cardio exercise, it is recommended that you engage in at least 30 minutes of moderately intense cardio activity, at least five days a week. If you have not been active for awhile, try to do 5 minutes of low-intensity activity such as walk on the spot to warm up, and then start your cardio workout at a lower intensity. Don't forget to finish off your exercise session with a series of gentle stretches to cool down and maintain muscle flexibility.
When you are ready for more vigorous cardio training, gradually increase the intensity of the workout by increasing the duration.
cardio exercise benefits
4 Powerful Ways to Get and Stay Motivated to Exercise Regularly
8 Easy Ways to Boost Metabolism
5 Killer Ways to Break a Weight Loss Plateau
6 Ways to Increase Serotonin Levels Naturally
5 Best Ways to Boost Your Energy
If you're a stay-at-home mom feeling emotionally drained and physically tired all the time, these simple steps will give you an instant energy kick and get you through the afternoon slump.
8 Reasons Why Dancing Benefits You
Want to feel good and look great? Dance is a total body and mind exercise that benefits more than your physical health.
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Message-ID: <> Newsgroups: From: X-Anonymously-To: Organization: Anonymous contact service Reply-To: Date: Tue, 23 Aug 1994 01:41:01 UTC Subject: My first bisexual experiences Lines: 109 I am happily married and consider myself basically heterosexual; it's summertime now and I find myself turning to take a look at nearly every female that passes by, and it's a rare guy who attracts even a fraction of that interest. (Okay, maybe once in a while a particularly handsome looking Arab type with androgynous features. Most white guys, though, it would never occur to me.) Still, under the right circumstances I found myself interested enough to explore a bisexual side a few times in my life. It was all in college, more than a decade ago. Several of my classes were near a restroom that seemed to attract a lot of traffic. I was naive enough that it took me a long time to figure out why there was a permanent hole gouged in the wall between two adjacent stalls. I was in there one day-- it was packed, little did I know why-- and glancing through the hole at the guy next door I see him pulling on his cock, nearly erect. My mouth went dry and I watched for quite a little while, keeping my growing erection out of sight, I hoped. I wanted him to come-- I wanted to see that, and it didn't occur to me that he was trying to hold off. I finally packed up and left. Thinking about it (a fair amount) I finally put it together. When my live-in girlfriend was home for a weekend I decided that I was going to suck a guy's cock. I went to the restroom one night and looked to see if anyone was around. Sure enough there was a guy in there, again pulling on his cock, a little thinner but longer than mine. (There, you know I'm not just relating a Penthouse Forum story now.) I started doing the same and he got a piece of toilet paper and scribbled something on it, wanting to know what I wanted to do. I wrote back (this was silly-- it was deserted and we should have talked) that I wanted to blow him but it was my first time doing anything like this. He seemed nervous too, though I doubt it was his first time. I told him about an office we could go into where we would be alone and I led him there. We went into the supply closet and he pulled out his cock again. I couldn't look at him, I was too embarassed, I just wanted to suck it and be done with that. I knelt down in front of him and tried to get some saliva into my mouth-- I'd had enough blowjobs to have some idea of how to give one-- and slipped my mouth around the head. I sucked out, then licked some more and got it all the way in my mouth. In, out, in, out. No big deal. I kind of wish I'd paid more attention to how it felt in my mouth but mainly I just worked it up and down in order to be done with it and be able to say I'd done it (not that I'd tell anyone). He put his hand on my shoulder, a little tenderly, but that made my feel funny and I just kept sucking, determined to be done with it. Finally he groaned a little and my mouth filled with his come-- a little saltier than mine, I noticed. I swallowed and let his cock drop out of my mouth, and with as little fuss as possible I got out of there. It seemed like he wanted to continue, but I was kind of freaked out and wanted to be gone. Of course I only jacked off about it five times (ah, the good old days.) About four months later I was invited to a dinner party on a night when my girlfriend had to leave. We screwed in the morning and then she left. I kind of thought the guy having the party was gay, but the guests were all sorts. After a certain point in the evening they drifted off, and I let my ride go. I thought Paul might want to have sex with me, and I was really turned on by the idea of him fucking me right after I'd had sex with my girlfriend. One of the last couples still at the party was two lesbians and we let them drift off. Paul and I were sitting on the couch and I guess I wasn't as freaked out this time because I knew the guy. (He was Oriental, too. That helped.) We got to be talking about sex, I asked him if he was gay, he said of course, and I asked him how he knew. He said you know, don't you? I told him I'd had sex with my girlfriend earlier that day. That seemed to put him off, so I decided to move. I moved toward him and shut my eyes and just barely found his lips. First time I'd kissed a guy, not as agreeable as a woman's soft face, frankly. We rubbed our hands all over each other anyway, and I felt his cock. I wanted him to fuck me in the ass so I thought I should suck him early and give him time to get back up. I pulled his cock out and sucked it again. This time I let my tongue run over the head and down the shaft, really savoring how it all felt. It didn't take long and he shot in my mouth. I swallowed it all. We went in the bedroom-- although I liked the idea that the two lesbians might come in and find me with his cock in my mouth-- and stripped and got into bed. I liked the feel of him in bed, bumpy and hairy. I cupped his balls with my hand and licked down his chest. Then he pushed me back and pushed my legs up, licking my cock and balls. It took about ten seconds for me to come, partly in his mouth and partly on my own stomach. The movie "Making Love" had come out not long before-- remember how Harry Hamlin says he and Michael Ontkean took it real slow on Ontkean's first night? Just cuddled? What the fuck were they thinking? I wanted to do everything. I wanted to invent new things. Somehow I got that across to him and he lubed my asshole, sticking a couple of fingers inside. Get on with it already. Then he climbed inside. I felt like I was going to be pulled apart, like his cock was definitely pushing something it shouldn't be, but I soon loved it. He rammed me and held me in a bearhug. Finally he pulled out-- I didn't know about the enema effect of a buttfuck, but he explained later-- and shot around the crack of my ass. I lay there, feeling it trickle down onto my balls, just dazzled. I thought about it for weeks. And jacked off about twenty times a day. But it didn't change my heterosexual outlook. Okay, pretty funny thing for a guy to say after getting fucked in the ass, but that's how I feel. It was something I tried in college, like skydiving and acid. To me, the test is what turns you on at first glance, and that's gals. Especially in summer.... It's not to say that I don't fantasize having a cock in me somewhere, again, but I know that I'm damned lucky that I didn't get a fatal disease, and so I'm content, well, fairly content, to leave it at that and just enjoy the female sex. Okay, as I say, jack off to the occasional bi video or something, but not really touch any more. I'll tell you about my girlfriend and me with our friend Barry some other time.... ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To find out more about the anon service, send mail to Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized, and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned. Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51784
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Website Offline
This Account Has Been Taken Offline
This may be intentional.
Please call 01332 410024 or email if you have any question related to the ownership, sale or restoration of this page.
This website may be offline due to development or changes by request of the owner, in which case, please come back again soon.
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UpNorth Gallery Home Tannery Pond Community Center 4/28-5/28/07
Selections from the
50th Anniversary Exhibit: Hudson River White Water Derby
Johnsburg Historical Society
presents photos and artifacts
April 28-May 28, 2007
Widlund Gallery, Tannery Pond Community Center
228 Main Street, North Creek, NY
Open: Mon-Sat 9 am-4 pm, Sun whenever the "Open" flag is out
Visit the White Water Derby online
All images used by permission. 2007 North Country Public Radio.
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1.1 DNS
DNS is a distributed database system that provides hostname-to-IP resource mapping (usually the IP address) and other information for computers on a network. Any computer on the Internet can use a DNS server to locate any other computer on the Internet.
DNS is made up of two distinct components: the hierarchy and the name service. The DNS hierarchy specifies the structure, naming conventions, and delegation of authority in the DNS service. The DNS name service provides the actual name-to-address mapping mechanism.
For more information, see:
DNS/DHCP supports the standards of the Internet Request For Comments (RFCs). For more information, see Section A.0, Appendix.
1.1.1 DNS Hierarchy
DNS uses a hierarchy to manage its distributed database system. The DNS hierarchy, also called the domain namespace, is an inverted tree structure, much like eDirectory. Each node in the tree has a text label, which is zero to 63 characters long. The label (zero length) is reserved and is used for the root.
The DNS tree has a single domain at the top of the structure called the root domain. A period or dot (.) is the designation for the root domain. Below the root domain are the top-level domains that divide the DNS hierarchy into segments.
There are three types of top level domains (TLDs). Below the top-level domains, the domain namespace is further divided into subdomains representing individual organizations:
A list of TLDs is available at the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority Web site.
The DNS hierarchy is shown in the illustration below.
Figure 1-1 DNS Hierarchy
Generic TLD
The following table shows the top-level DNS domains and the organization types that use them:
Table 1-1 DNS Domains and Organization Types
Used by
Commercial organizations, such as novell.com
Educational organizations, such as ucla.edu
Governmental agencies, such as whitehouse.gov
Military organizations, such as army.mil
Nonprofit organizations, such as redcross.org
Networking entities, such as nsf.net
International organizations, such as nato.int
Country Code TLD
Top-level domains organize domain namespace geographically.
Table 1-2 Country Code Domains
Used by
United States
Infrastructure TLD
The .arpa (Address and Routing Parameter Area) TLD is used extensively for Internet infrastructure. It contains subdomains such as in-addr.arpa and ipv6.arpa.
Domains and Subdomains
A domain is a subtree of the DNS tree. Each node on the DNS tree represents a domain. Domains under the top-level domains represent individual organizations or entities. These domains can be further divided into subdomains to ease administration of an organization’s host computers.
For example, Company A creates a domain called companya.com under the com top-level domain. Company A has separate LANs for its locations in Chicago, Washington, and Providence. Therefore, the network administrator for Company A decides to create a separate subdomain for each division, as shown in Figure 1-2, Domains and Subdomains.
Any domain in a subtree is considered part of all domains above it. Therefore, chicago.companya.com is part of the companya.com domain, and both are part of the .com domain.
Figure 1-2 Domains and Subdomains
Domain Names
The domain name represents the position of an entity within the structure of the DNS hierarchy. The domain name of a node is the list of the labels on the path from the node to the root of the tree. Domain names are not case sensitive and their length is limited to 255 characters. Valid characters for domain names according to RFC 1034/RFC 1035 are a-z (case insensitive), 0-9, and hyphens. Each label in the domain name is delimited by a period. For example, the domain name for the Providence domain within Company A is providence.companya.com, as shown in Figure 1-2.
NOTE:Novell DNS supports underscores using the check-names option for coexistence with Windows DNS servers.
Each computer that uses DNS is given a DNS hostname that represents the computer’s position within the DNS hierarchy. Therefore, the hostname for host1 in Figure 1-2 is host1.washington.companya.com.
The domain names in the figure end with a period, representing the root domain. Domain names that end with a period are called fully qualified domain names (FQDNs).
in-addr.arpa Domain
The in-addr.arpa domain (or zone) provides the mapping of IP addresses to names within a zone, enabling a client (or resolver) to request a hostname by providing an IP address. This function, also known as reverse lookup, is used by some security-based applications.
The file that stores the in-addr.arpa data contains pointer (PTR) records and additional name server records, including the Start of Authority (SOA) records, which are similar to the other DNS zone files. Within the in-addr.arpa zone file, IP addresses are listed in reverse order, and in-addr.arpa is appended to the address. A query for a host with an IP address of requires a PTR query with the target address of
Domain Delegation
Domain delegation gives authority to an organization for a domain. Having authority for a domain means that the organization’s network administrator is responsible for maintaining the DNS database of hostname and address information for that domain. Domain delegation helps in distributing the DNS namespace.
A Division can be made between any two adjacent nodes in the namespace. After all divisions are made, each group of connected namespace is considered as a separate zone. The zone is authoritative for all names in the connected region, and these cuts are managed by domain delegation. All the host information for a zone is maintained in a single authoritative database.
For example, in Figure 1-2, the companya.com. domain is delegated to company A, creating the companya.com. zone. There are three subdomains within the companya.com. domain:
• chicago.companya.com
• washington.companya.com
• providence.companya.com
The company A administrator maintains all host information for the zone in a single database and also has the authority to create and delegate subdomains.
For example, if company A’s Chicago location has its own network administrator, they could make a division between the chicago.companya.com domain and the companya.com domain and then delegate the chicago.companya.com zone. Then companya.com would have no authority over chicago.companya.com. Company A would have two domains:
• companya.com, which has authority over the companya.com, washington.companya.com, and providence.companya.com domains
• chicago.companya.com, which has authority over the chicago.companya.com domain
1.1.2 DNS Name Service
DNS uses the name service component to provide the actual name-to-IP address mapping that enables computers to locate each other on an internetwork. The name service uses a client/server mechanism in which clients query name servers for host address information.
Name Servers
Name servers are information repositories that make up the domain database. The database is divided into sections called zones, which are distributed among the name servers. The name servers answer queries by using data in their zones or caches. A DNS name server can be either a primary name server or a secondary name server.
In addition to local host information, name servers maintain information about how to contact other name servers. Name servers in an intranet are able to contact each other and retrieve host information. If a name server does not have information about a particular domain, the name server relays the request to other name servers up or down the domain hierarchy until it receives an authoritative answer for the client’s query.
All name servers maintain information about contacting name servers that are available in other parts of the DNS namespace. This process of maintaining information is called linking to the existing DNS hierarchy. This is done by providing information about the root name servers. The administrator also enters information into the database about name servers in the lower-level domains. For example, when creating a subdomain, the administrator provides the name server information of the subzone.
Primary Name Servers
One DNS name server in each administrative zone maintains the read-write copies of hostname database and address information for an entire domain. This name server is the primary name server, and the domain administrator updates it with hostnames and addresses as changes occur. Primary and secondary name servers are also called masters and slaves.
Secondary Name Servers
Secondary name servers have read-only copies of the primary name server’s DNS database. Secondary name servers provide redundancy and load balancing for a domain.
Periodically, and when a secondary name server starts, the secondary name server contacts the primary name server and requests a full or incremental copy of the primary name server’s DNS database. This process is called zone transfer.
If necessary, a primary name server can also function as a secondary name server for another zone.
Forward Name Servers
The Forward DNS server forwards all queries to another DNS server and caches the results. Unlike primary and secondary zones, there is no functional difference between a designated server and other servers.
Root Name Servers
Root name servers contain information for the name servers in all top-level domains. The root server plays a very significant role in resolving DNS queries. It returns a list of the designated authoritative name servers for the appropriate top-level domain.
DNS Resolver
DNS resolvers are client programs. They interface user programs to domain name servers. A resolver receives a request from a user program and returns the desired information. It basically does a name-to-address, address-to-name, and general lookup.
Name Resolution
DNS is a distributed database with multiple servers that maintain different parts of the same tree. The links between the servers are through root server and domain delegation, as shown in the following figure.
Figure 1-3 DNS Namespace
DNS queries can be resolved in two ways:
• Iterative query: An iterative request from a client expects the best actual answer or referral that the DNS server can immediately provide, without contacting other DNS servers.
For example, in Figure 1-4, Harry initiates an iterative query for the A record of www.mit.edu. After receiving this query, the name server (s1) might return the answer, if the answer is available in the cache. If the answer is not available, the server returns a referral [NS and A rrs] to the other DNS servers that are closer to the names queried by the client.
• Recursive query: A recursive request from a client expects the actual answer that the DNS server can provide either from its own cache or by contacting other DNS servers.
For example, in Figure 1-3 and Figure 1-4, Harry initiates a recursive query for the A record of www.mit.edu. After receiving this query, the name server (s1) contacts the root server to resolve this query and gets the referrals (name server info) for the .edu zone. Now, s1 again initiates a query for A record of www.mit.edu to the name server (using the referrals received) of edu.zone and will get the referrals for mit.edu.zone. Server s1 will again initiate a query for the A record of www.mit.edu to the name server (using the referrals received) and gets the A record. This A record is returned to Harry.
Figure 1-4 Name Resolution
Caching is a mechanism to improve the performance of query resolution. The cache memory is empty when a server first starts. This cache is built as it starts resolving queries. It caches all the answers and referrals during recursive queries, and the cached data remains in the cache memory until the Time-To-Live (TTL) expires. The TTL specifies the time interval that the entries can be cached before they are discarded.
1.1.3 Resource Records
Resource records (RRs) contain the host information maintained by the name servers and make up the DNS database. Different types of records contain different types of host information. For example, an Address A record provides the name-to-address mapping for a given host, and Start of Authority (SOA) record specifies the start of authority for a given zone.
A DNS zone must contain several types of resource records in order for DNS to function properly. Other RRs can be present, but the following records are required for standard DNS:
• Name Server (NS): Binds a domain name with a hostname for a specific name server.
The DNS zone must contain NS records (for itself) for each primary and secondary name server of the zone. It must also contain NS records of the lower-level zones (if any) to provide links within the DNS hierarchy.
• Start of Authority (SOA): Indicates the start of authority for the zone.
The name server must contain only one SOA record, specifying its zone of authority.
For example, the name server for a zone must contain the following:
• An SOA record identifying its zone of authority
• An NS record for the primary name server within the zone
• An NS record for each secondary name server within the zone
• NS records for delegated zones, if any
• A records for the NS record (if applicable)
For more information about Resource Record types and their RDATA (Resource Record data), see Section A.2, Types of Resource Records.
1.1.4 DNS Structure
DNS is administered by building a database of information that includes all the resource records of a zone into a text file called a master file. The administration of these files is difficult and cumbersome. Initial versions of the Novell DNS server used Btrieve as its database. Other vendors also use large files to store information required for a DNS zone.
Figure 1-5 represents a traditional DNS strategy. A zone, such as novell.com, uses a primary DNS server to handle queries about the entities within it. A DNS server supports more than one zone, and it has at least one secondary server for backup (redundancy) or load-sharing purposes. The primary DNS server provides DNS name service for two zones: novell.com and other.com. The secondary DNS server 1 provides backup support for the novell.com zone, and the secondary DNS server 2 provides backup support for the other.com zone. When changes occur to the DNS database, the master files corresponding to that zone at the secondary server are updated by zone transfers.
The file storing the resource records for a zone might have hundreds or thousands of entries for different types of resources, such as users’ addresses, hosts, name servers, mail servers, and pointers to other resources.
Figure 1-5 DNS Structure
The next section provides details on the following:
DNS Master File
A DNS master file is a text file that contains resource records that describe a zone. When you build a zone, the DNS objects and their attributes translate into resource records for that zone.
You can import a DNS master file if it conforms to IETF RFCs 1034, 1035, and 1183 and is in BIND master file format. A sample DNS master file is shown in the following example:
$ORIGIN companya.com.
@ soa ns.companya.com. admin.novell.com (
1996091454 /* SOA sr no */
3600 /* Zone Refresh interval*/
300 /* Zone retry interval */
604800 /* Zone Expire interval */
86400) /* Zone Minimum TTL */
ns ns1.companya.com.
ns ns2.companya.com.
mx 5 companya.com.
$ORIGIN companya.com.
ns1 a
ns2 a; End of file
Master File Directives
The master file directives include $GENERATE, $ORIGIN, $INCLUDE, and $TTL.
• $GENERATE: Enables you to create a series of resource records that differ from each other only by an iterator.
The syntax is:
$GENERATE range lhs type rhs [comment]
Range: Can be set to start-stop or start-stop/step. All values for start, stop, and step must be positive.
lhs: The owner name of the records to be created. The $ symbols in the lhs are replaced by the iterator value. Using \$ allows a $ symbol in the output. A $ can be optionally followed by a modifier as $[{offset[,width[,base]]}].
A modifier can have an offset, a width, and a base. The offset is used to change the value of the iterator, base specifies the output format in which the values are printed, and width is used for padding. The available base values are decimal (d), octal (o), and hexadecimal (x or X). The default modifier is ${0, 0, d}. If the lhs is not absolute, the current value of $ORIGIN is appended to the name.
Type: The resource record type. The supported types are PTR, CNAME, DNAME, A, AAAA, and NS.
rhs: The domain name. Processed similarly to lhs.
For example,
$ORIGIN 0.0.192.IN-ADDR.ARPA
is equivalent to NS server1.example.com NS server2.example.com
• $ORIGIN: Enables you to set the domain name as the origin. The origin is appended to all domain names in the zone data file that do not end with a dot.
The syntax is:
$ORIGIN domain-name [comment]
For example,
$ORIGIN example.com.
WWW CNAME Web server
is equivalent to
WWW.EXAMPLE.COM. CNAME webserver.example.com.
NOTE:If the $ORIGIN directive is not already included, make sure you include this directive at the start of the zone file.
• $INCLUDE: Enables you to include another file in the current file. The included file can be read and processed as if it were present in the current file at that point. The domain name can also be specified with the $INCLUDE directive to process the file included with $ORIGIN set to that value. If the origin is not specified, the current $ORIGIN is used.
After the included file is processed, the origin and the domain name values are reset to their previous values before processing the included file.
The syntax is:
$INCLUDE filename [origin] [comment]
NOTE:The $INCLUDE directive is not supported through the management utilities.
• $TTL: Enables you to set the default time to live for the subsequent resource records without any TTL values. The time range for TTL is from 0 to 214748367 seconds. If the $TTL value is not present in the master file, SOA minimum TTL is used as the default.
The syntax is:
$TTL default-ttl [comment]
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global_05_local_4_shard_00000656_processed.jsonl/51815
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How to Use the Context
Inquiry Question
Table of
Setting the Stage
In the aftermath of the Civil War, black and white southerners struggled to renegotiate their roles in a society fundamentally changed by the abolition of slavery. African Americans looked for ways to enjoy their newfound freedom, assert their independence, and exercise their rights as American citizens. In 1869, the 15th amendment gave African-American men the right to vote. During and after Reconstruction, a certain number of blacks were even elected to political office or received political appointments. Most African Americans were Republicans, because that was the party of Abraham Lincoln who freed the slaves. Most elite white southerners--many of whom had owned slaves--were Democrats, while poorer whites gravitated towards smaller third parties broadly known as the Populists. During the 1890s, a political movement called Fusion attempted to unite the third parties with African Americans in the Republican Party.
White Democrats fought vigorously to destroy the Fusion movement, largely because people were beginning to unite across racial lines. Many feared that interracial partnership would lead to the end of white supremacy. To help preserve their position, white lawmakers began passing segregation laws, often called "Jim Crow" laws. This system has been defined by "the practice of legal and extralegal racial discrimination against African Americans"¹ and would curtail many of the freedoms which African Americans experienced following the Civil War. With the Supreme Court case of Plessy v. Ferguson in 1896, it became legal to create separate public facilities for African Americans, ranging from transportation to schools. While some unofficial segregation had already been in practice, this was the beginning of segregation by law. Many whites also sought to strip African-American men of the franchise, or the right to vote, like they did in North Carolina in 1900 when the state passed an amendment to the state constitution adding a literacy requirement to be eligible for voting.
Many southern blacks would not stand for this kind of treatment and refused to be seen as second-class, unequal citizens. Members of the small but rapidly growing black middle class took responsibility for the leadership and encouragement of the African-American people. "The Negro race, like all races, is going to be saved by its exceptional men,"² wrote African-American intellectual W.E.B. Du Bois in 1903. "The Talented Tenth of the Negro race must be made leaders of thought and missionaries of culture among their people."³
These so-called "Talented Tenth" took pride in their accomplishments, which became evident through their homes and possessions, photographs they took of their families, and in their public actions. They believed very strongly in education as the key to African-American advancement. The Pope family of Raleigh, NC was part of this middle-class African-American movement and wanted to set an example of success for other African Americans to follow.
¹Quoted in Charles D. Lowery and John F. Marsalek, eds. Encyclopedia of African-American Civil Rights: From Emancipation to the Present (New York: Greenwood Press, 1992), p. 281.
² W.E.B. Du Bois, "The Talented Tenth," in
The Negro Problem (New York: James Pott & Company, 1903), p. 33.
³ Ibid., p. 75.
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