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Denethor POV - 1 of 3
In which Denethor and Thorongil all reflect on the ghosts of the north and the perils of the south.
Linhir, Yestarë, 2978 T.A.
Denethor guided them away from the crush of dancers, snagging two cups of something from the tray of a passing server. He offered one to Finduilas with a sly grin. 'Here. You should have something to drink.'
Finduilas laughed gaily. 'Yes, friend. I should.' After a sip, she wrinkled her nose and handed it back to him. 'But not that.' A sniff of his own cup made him agree. It was a sweet punch of strange fruit juices and a strong spirit favored by coastal folk near the Ethir Anduin and southwards. It was cloying and left one's breath foul and head pounding the next day. Denethor always thought of it as the taste of Umbar; something on the verge of rotting.
'Come,' he said. They wove through the wedding feast guests to a table holding things to drink. Cups of water in hand, they retreated to a relatively quiet spot near the now-empty dais. The Great Hall of Linhir blazed with light. It was smaller than Merethrond, but was more gaily painted and had large windows of colored glass. It was also packed. In the middle, people had been dancing for several hours. Denethor glimpsed Ivriniel in her red dress but did not recognize the man she danced with. Surrounding the dancers was a mob of guests talking loudly to be heard over the music and stamping feet. He had to put his face very near Finduilas to be heard, not that he minded the proximity. 'Will you take it amiss if I say I like this wedding more than our own?'
She grinned and gave him a light kiss. 'I like it better, too. I'm neither drunk nor sick.'
Denethor smiled in return and brushed her cheek with a fingertip. 'For which I am very glad.' It was true. Finduilas had not coughed or been ill since Thorongil's northern medicines had cured her of the Black Breath almost two months past. There was just the tiniest wheeze at the end of her breath as she slept. Perhaps that is why… Denethor thrust away the nagging thought, unwilling to let any doubt into this day of happiness. The sight of Finduilas this afternoon when he came to the Swan's house for the procession to the Great Hall was like the rising of the sun; he was awed by the light within her. Whatever the reason he was now vouchsafed sight of her heart, Denethor was overjoyed by it. The last five days had been frustrating, for she had been needed by her kinswomen and they saw each other only twice over that time. There had been no opportunity for them to be alone together, not even to kiss. He glanced around, then murmured in her ear, 'Do you think anyone would notice if we left?'
'Mother would, so we need to stay longer, at least until Ivriniel and Angbor leave,' she answered with a sigh. Finduilas sipped her water, then said, 'I am very happy for Ivriniel, but I am even more happy that this is over.'
'I do not recall you demanding so much of her help last year.'
'You were gone much of that time,' Finduilas replied, 'so you did not see all that Ivriniel did for me. Do not forget that I also had Wren, Beregar, Aiavalë and Borondir to help me!'
'I suppose,' he said with some doubt.
Denethor saw Morvorin coming towards them, a woman on his arm. Finduilas waved at the two, and greeted each with an embrace and a kiss. 'Moraen, it is wonderful to see you! And you as well, Morvorin,' she cheerily said. Denethor nodded to each amiably, not certain who the woman was. The two women chattered at each other, agreeing that everything was beautiful and perfect. Morvorin looked less than enchanted by the evening. As had been the case at the Captains' Council in the spring, the usually gay young lord wore a solemn face. There was sobriety in his bearing now, most unlike his boyish demeanor of the previous year, when he was more like to Imrahil and Beregar. You finally feel the weight of lordship, do you? Denethor approved of the young man's growing maturity. They had not had time to speak yet in Linhir as Morvorin had arrived but a few days before.
Denethor saw Thorongil not far off and stared at the man until he turned around. The captain hastened over when Denethor caught his eye. 'My lords, my ladies,' the captain greeted them with a polite bow. Denethor had not inquired as to the outcome of the ridiculous argument over Thorongil's clothes, content that the man looked respectable. Finduilas would tell him in time whatever he needed to know. Pleasantries were exchanged and Denethor learned that Moraen was Morvorin's sister.
'If you will forgive me for speaking of serious things on such a festive day, Lord Denethor,' Morvorin said, 'the road between Calembel and Ethring has rarely been in better repair, though I would not have believed it would be done, given the footpads you sent to do the work.'
'Good. And what of the footpads?'
'Most departed when their sentence was done, but some remained and are now honest men,' Morvorin replied. 'A few have a talent for road building. I think they would be good foremen for future work gangs.'
'There is more work to be done on the road?' asked Thorongil.
Morvorin shook his head. 'Not the Calembel road, captain. That was finished this summer. What lies at either end, though, that could use work.'
Thorongil looked at Denethor. 'That will take hands…'
'…but they cannot be neglected, and the work cannot be left to…'
'…criminals, no,' Thorongil agreed, 'So, how to fix these stretches quickly…'
'…without tying down the men we need on the marches?' Denethor finished.
Morvorin stared at them, disconcerted at the swift exchange, then gathered his wits. 'Yes, exactly, my lords. It is more swift to travel by a barge than a horse from Ethring to Edhellond, and the road to Linhir can be impassable if there is heavy rain. Would that the roads in the west were as well-paved as those between Pelargir and Minas Tirith.' He glanced around the hall sourly. 'While I do not begrudge the celebration here, I would fain have trod that road and spent this season in Minas Tirith.'
'Then you must come,' Finduilas interjected, 'both you and Moraen. You denied me your sister's companionship this past summer and I shall not allow it again.' Though Finduilas said the last in a teasing tone, Denethor did not doubt that she meant it.
Moraen smiled and seized her brother's hand. 'Do say we shall, Morvorin! I wish to see the City again.'
'Yes, and soon!' Finduilas encouraged. 'In fact, will you let Moraen return with me this month? She will stay as my guest.' Denethor was intrigued at Finduilas insistence on this; he suspected there was more to the invitation than he understood. While the two women cajoled Morvorin to make him agree, Thorongil lightly bumped Denethor with his elbow and motioned a fraction with his chin for Denethor to look behind him. Adrahil and Angrist were approaching, arm in arm, laughing over something, looking slightly inebriated and very pleased with themselves.
After Seeing Finduilas, the greatest pleasure of this journey had been Adrahil's genial company. Denethor doubted that the Prince had completely returned to the trust they had shared before his humiliation over Osgiliath and the ill-fortuned betrothal, but it was more than Denethor had expected. He sometimes caught Adrahil staring at him closely, as the man did now. What desire do you see, Prince? It is love. It may not be denied. He knew it was petty, but Denethor enjoyed that Adrahil had no choice but to accept that Finduilas loved him. The lords cheerfully greeted the others, except for Thorongil. While Angrist was amiable, Adrahil nodded coolly to the Lost. It appeared that his ire at Denethor was now to be heaped upon the captain's head. Finduilas watched her father's cold greeting to Thorongil closely, a thoughtful look on her face.
'Now, Warden,' Angrist mock scolded, 'no holding a council without the rest of us!'
'Please join in, my lords, for our talk concerns you,' Denethor answered. 'It will be a matter for the Southern Council.'
'When does the Steward convene the Great Council?' Adrahil asked.
'Tomorrow. The Steward's guidance will be sent the next day. We can expect it by the fifth, and shall hold our council on the sixth.' Following Finduilas wisdom, Denethor had conceded the formal supremacy of the Great Council and had required all of the southern lords to deliver their reports to him in time to be sent to the Steward for tomorrow's gathering in Minas Tirith.
'And what concerns us now?' Angrist pressed.
Denethor nodded at Thorongil, indicating the captain should answer. 'Repairing roads. Lord Morvorin told us of the success of the work between Ethring and Calembel, and noted that other roads need mending.'
'But the roads are always mended,' protested Angrist, with a smile. 'Next you will be telling us that cows need feeding and corn needs reaping!'
'The roads should not need mending, at least not so much' Morvorin argued. 'Once, all the main roads were paved, as now only the road from Minas Tirith to Pelargir is maintained. Now there are broken places and leagues where the stone has been removed, making a mire.'
'Are you proposing that we repave all the old ways?' questioned Adrahil, his face showing he thought it a questionable proposal.
'Yes,' was Morvorin's stout reply. 'The bridge of Osgiliath was rebuilt. Why not the roads of Gondor?'
'The labor it would take…' Angrist began, shaking his head.
'…is well worth the reward,' Denethor said. 'Instead of rebuilding dirt tracks every spring, we can relay the roads that will last for centuries.'
'To do any less is to admit defeat.' Thorongil's quiet assertion pulled all eyes to him. There was a light in his own, and his expression was proud and commanding. 'We must not fear or rue what may be on the morrow, nor turn from great tasks because our immediate will is thwarted.' Something in Denethor's heart rejoiced in these words and he wished to lay his hands upon stone, any stone, to hear its poetry of the past and sing to it the glory that yet awaited. 'As the Warden says, we should build these roads for the years ahead. Upon them we will march in haste to the realm's defense, but also will we walk in peace and plenty, as will our children and theirs after them.'
'Is this your way of telling us, Thorongil, that we shall have war on our doorstep this coming year?' Adrahil said, looking at the man with suspicion.
'No, for we all know that there will be no more years without war,' was the captain's even reply. 'It is what we need to do to protect us on land. If the western reaches of Gondor are not to be cut off from the eastern lands, then there must be ways to move swiftly across the realm, regardless of the time of year.'
Out of the corner of his eye, Denethor saw Duinmir walking towards them. The choice of Duinmir to officiate at the wedding mystified Denethor; he had not thought Dol Amroth and Morthond to be so close, for Finduilas had never said that there was any great affection or trust between the Prince and the Lord of Morthond. The man joined them, nodding to each but not speaking.
'The swiftest route from east to west is the Sea,' Adrahil countered.
'Only if key ports are free and we command Anduin,' answered Thorongil, making the Prince scowl.
'It is not a choice between them! A swift ship may outrun a horse, but not all men live upon a river or a coast,' Morvorin protested. He turned to Angrist, 'Do you not think it for the best that the road between Linhir and Ethring be as sound and strong as that between Pelargir and Minas Tirith? Ox carts and peddlers' wagons will move more swiftly on a stone road, too, not just soldiers.'
'I am not objecting to good roads, my lords,' Angrist said with a laugh, 'and I think all know that I wish for safe port as well.'
'What wise man would argue against good roads?' Duinmir sounded puzzled. His eyes came to rest on Thorongil. 'But a wise lord will always ask why his people are being called away to war, and wonder why the roads are allowed to languish until then.'
'Because we do not think of trying times until they arrive, Duinmir,' Angrist replied, eyeing the other sharply.
The Morthond lord did not cease looking at Thorongil. 'Of course. But I am confused. Three years ago, I heard speak of the great threat from the south. Is that threat now gone so that we should be eager to send our men away east and north?' To Denethor's concern, Adrahil nodded agreement with Duinmir and turned a sharp eye on Denethor. 'My men are for the defense of Morthond,' Duinmir concluded.
'And for Gondor, as all of us are!' Morvorin insisted. 'We are men of Gondor!'
'Some of us.' Duinmir's eyes glinted and an unkind smile came to his lips. 'Not all.' Thorongil did not look away nor did his calm expression change, but some red began to appear on his cheeks. 'And a wise lord thinks of his own people first.'
'For there lies the greatest fortress, beside which stone is mere sand,' Finduilas answered, 'and the people will always look to the wisest lord, the one who can lead and unite them in dire times. There is no wisdom in division.' Duinmir finally looked away from the captain. He could not meet Finduilas eyes for more than a moment and dropped his gaze to the ground.
'Nor is there wisdom in ignoring a threat. Umbar remains the same threat that it was three years ago.' Denethor allowed some contempt to creep into his voice. 'If you have arrived at a solution for defeating them, Duinmir, we all wish to hear it. Until then, the waters can protect us or become highways for our foes. There is no safety in Gondor save by securing our shores, whether they be beach or river bank. Upon the Sea, ships are our salvation. Inland, it is our roads and bridges that form the defense. We may not choose between them. As the Lady said, division is our greatest foe. The coast and the capital are united.'
Finduilas smiled at Denethor at these words and placed her hand on his arm. 'And so they shall remain.' Adrahil's expression remained doubtful.
'There are more lands than those, my lady,' Duinmir said, though he would not look upon Finduilas fully, 'and the mountains are also in search of a fortress that will last. Our stone hills are more than sand.'
'So said the hill-lords of Rhudaur before they fell to Angmar,' Thorongil said quietly, eyes downcast, as though speaking to himself. His gaze snapped upwards, eyes fierce, catching Duinmir so suddenly the other man stepped back a pace. 'Their towers, aye, those remain. Naught else.'
'I say we argue over shadows,' Morvorin interrupted. 'Arnor was laid low by its divisions. That must not happen here. What we need are good roads to unite us, from Erech to Linhir and on to Minas Tirith.' For a moment, Denethor had a vision of stone, a ribbon running across Gondor like a river across a plain, and those who walked the road would stride through tales and visions of the past, even as he had seen Elendil and Gil-galad move through the ghostly ranks of their warriors.
Duinmir found his tongue once more. 'But will the Anduin fiefs come to our defense? For three years, now, we send our men away east for others to command.'
Denethor tired of this querulous lord. 'Yes, they will, even as Steward Beren sent Beregond to drive back the invaders from Umbar and Harad who overran the falas but two-hundred and twenty years past. Had the roads been better, it probably would not have taken all the winter to do. Morvorin is right. When there is a need to move from one end of the realm to the other in haste, the way must be open.'
'Please, gentlemen, enough!' Finduilas dug her nails into Denethor's wrist, warning him to be quiet. 'This is a wedding, and you will have your war council in but a few days.' She shook a finger at them all, but smiled to take away the sting. 'The new Lady of Linhir would be most upset to know you are arguing and not celebrating. Lord Duinmir, your punishment for being contentious is you must now dance.' Finduilas smoothly slipped her arm into his and started leading him away. Over her shoulder, she said, 'Captain Thorongil, since you are also being thoughtless, you must now dance with Lady Moraen. Come along!' Denethor gestured for Thorongil to do as he was told. With a sheepish smile, the captain bowed to Moraen and offered his arm. They were soon lost in the whirl of dancers at the center of the hall.
Adrahil gave Denethor a stern look. 'Warden, though the capital and the coast have struck a certain bargain, there is more than some truth to the mountain's contention that not much has been done about Umbar in three years. The thoughts of the Steward have not changed in that time, and Gondor's strength has been lent to the Anduin crossings.'
'Our strength has gone to where we have been attacked, Prince. The coast has been spared.'
'That is due to accident, not plan, Denethor, at least no plan of ours.'
'And I repeat what I said to you three years ago: How shall we take the battle to their coast? In the absence of that, we can have no plan save to sit and wait. We can meet their ships in ones and twos as we always have, but a fleet? Could Seabird contest with an ocean of black sails? If we have no way to meet them upon the waves, then we must battle them upon the land as Beregond did.'
The prince scrubbed at his close-sheared hair and sighed, shaking his head. 'I know. I know this better than you, Denethor. Did you not charge me to consider how we would have more than a simple raiding fleet?'
'I still need you to do that, Adrahil.'
'Yes.' Adrahil sighed again, then grinned, eyes twinkling. 'But not now. It is a wedding, and I shall have three ladies very upset with me if I do not celebrate.'
Angrist laughed and clapped Adrahil on the shoulder. 'Nay, five, for you now have my two to scold you. Farewell, Warden! More will wait for the Council.'
Denethor watched the two lords walk off, once more arm in arm, before turning his attention to Morvorin. 'Roads, you think?'
'Yes, Warden. Roads.'
'You will need to return to Minas Tirith with me after the council.'
Morvorin smiled. 'Gladly. The time for contest between the fiefs is over.'
'And you are not daunted by this task?'
'You will spend little time among your own people.'
The young lord shrugged. 'Ethring and the Ringló are my particular charges, but I am Gondorian.'
'We ride the second morning after the Southern Council. Be sure you and Lady Moraen are ready.' Denethor nodded a dismissal to Morvorin and went in search of Finduilas. She had rid herself of Duinmir and was dancing with Thorongil. The two were smiling and talking, obviously enjoying each other's company. Denethor stood and watched. Thorongil had been angered by Duinmir's words. They are but the truth; you have not sworn, so why should he send his men to you? You said to me you would not leave. Others may wish greater proof. The dance ended and the two parted. Someone else claimed Finduilas. For a while, Denethor was content to watch her, enjoying being able to See her, but eventually he needed to touch her. He would not let anyone else take her for a dance the rest of the evening, nor did he allow himself to be drawn into any more serious conversations. It was very late before Imrahil and Andreth called for attention and offered a final toast in honor of the newlyweds and the last dance was held.
Denethor joined in the loud cheers to send the two off for the night, then turned to Finduilas. 'Now, may we go?' All of the other guests were also departing, but Beregar was quickly present with their cloaks and a lantern to light their way home. Finduilas was yawning widely by the time they reached the house and leaned on Denethor as they climbed the stair to their rooms.
Linhir, 2 January, 2978 T.A.
Denethor cast a surreptitious glance at the wooden box holding his birthday present, then sighed and returned his attention to a report Marlong had sent just before mettarë. He would have preferred to fiddle with the contraption. It was a perfect present, the mystery of what it was no less marvelous than what it might be able to do. Denethor suspected he would find mention of something like it in the scrolls about light and lenses. Another week in Linhir and then they returned to Minas Tirith where he would have the archive for his research and Finduilas for himself. The journey would take just over a week itself – three days to Pelargir, two days there to speak to the nobles and meet with Marach and Ragnor, then three days to the City. Denethor sighed again. Even taking a ship would shorten the journey by only a day or two. He reached for the pouch at his waist, closing his hand around it and rolling it in his palm. Among the other odds and ends in the small sack he found the cord, following it until he felt the unyielding metal bands of the silver rings. He let the pouch drop.
You should put that into a trunk and leave it there. Finduilas would be angry if she came across it or knew he had it upon him while they were in a civilized place. She is the one who bade me keep it when I would fain have returned it to its maker, so she should not be cross if I have it near! Even as the rebellious thought crossed his mind, Denethor knew he should put the thing from him. It was powerful, like the palantír, to be taken up only in great need. As soon as he cast his mind towards it, he desired to look into the seeing stone and explore the roads. Morvorin and Thorongil's words at the wedding two days past had sparked his imagination. Denethor already knew which roads he wished to see. Again his hand crept to the pouch and his fingers sought the lanyard through the supple leather.
A month had passed and he still did not know what to make of the mariner's touch. He was torn between anger at the creature's trespass upon Finduilas and elation that the mariner had pulled aside the veil that kept them from Seeing each other. Or perhaps it was our Sight that allowed him to approach? Then I have left her exposed to… Denethor dropped the pouch, wiping his fingers on the fabric of his trousers to be rid of the feel of the cord. No, we have always willed each other, from the moment we met, but there was a mist between us and he removed it. Perhaps something set by another. There was always the wizard's meddling to consider. Mithrandir had made no secret that he wanted Finduilas to be for Thorongil. Denethor did not doubt but that the wizard knew enough to shroud things from sight. He had yet to be able to glimpse Mithrandir in the palantír. Once upon the waves, away from whatever influence the conjuror had, the spell could be disrupted. The mariner protected me from Curunír; why would he not release Finduilas from an enchantment set by another wizard? Even so, Denethor disliked that any of these beings had approached her.
Something caught his attention. Denethor cocked his head, listening, but could discern nothing unusual. It was more like a gladdening of his heart. A small smile came to his lips and he sat very quietly, waiting. It was not long before he heard the front door open and close. The sound of women's voices preceded them through the house as Finduilas, Wren and Aerin returned from their morning trip to the market. More than Sight had been granted to him. Now, Denethor always knew when Finduilas was near and could find her if she were far. He was certain that he could set out in a storm in the dead of night and his feet would unerringly bear him to her side.
There was a tap at the study door, then Finduilas opened it and peeked around the edge. 'Am I disturbing you, friend?'
'No.' He gladly set aside the report and rose to greet her. 'It is pleasant to have my wife back.'
'I was not gone that long!'
'Today, no, but before, a great deal.'
'I fear I will be gone again tomorrow. Mother wishes for me.'
'Then I shall pine for you until you return,' he said with an exaggerated sigh which made her giggle. Denethor leaned down and nuzzled her neck. 'I miss you already.'
'Oh no, you don't!' Finduilas gave him a small slap on the shoulder and stepped out of his embrace, but she was laughing. 'You may save your honeyed words for later, husband! I shan't be distracted by you. I am tired of being pent up in this watery town, however hospitable its people. The day is nice and I intend to visit Mistress Gull and ride. If you may be spared from your council preparations, I would like your company.'
This sounded much more interesting than reports. In less than a half-hour, they walked to the stables near the Pelargir road. Beregar led the way and a pair of Queen's Men followed, warding people off with a look. Nothing could keep the children away. Whenever they passed a knot of them in the street, the urchins would tag along for a stretch, asking to hold Finduilas hand, brandishing toys for her to exclaim over, and begging her to stop and play.
While the main squares and streets were hung with the banners of the of the city's ruling house – a black bridge on a blue field – the lesser lanes showed the flag of the Lady. Denethor pondered this. It had always been the policy of the Stewards that their banner flew nowhere save above Minas Tirith. The army always marched under the flag of the White Tree, their allegiance formally to Gondor, not to the Stewards. Until Thorongil appeared, it had been a prudent choice, but there was nothing to contest it once people had begun to think of the banner and the captain as a good fit. Perhaps there was another flag that could be raised, one which no lord would contest.
Gull and Gaerhûl greeted them loudly. Finduilas insisted on saddling the mare herself, offering apologies to Gull for having ignored her for so long. The mare accepted them with good grace. Gaerhûl, on the other hand, was his usual bad-tempered self. Denethor suggested that they ride west across the northernmost bridge and then go north along the Ethring road. He wished to observe both the townspeople seeing Finduilas riding through Linhir and also the condition of the road beyond the city walls. People stopped to watch their Lady ride past, sparing Denethor scarcely a look. There were as many of her flags on the west side of the town as on the east. He made a mental note to have it reported how long the flags remained in place after their departure for Minas Tirith.
Once out of Linhir, Denethor had to give up his serious thoughts for a time. Finduilas and Gull delighted in the open land and wished to run. Several times he and Gaerhûl had to admit defeat as their beauties effortlessly sprinted away. Eventually they had their fill, and Denethor could turn his attention to the road. This close to Linhir, it was in reasonably good shape, with few deep ruts or spots of mire. Let it rain steadily for several days, however, then try to march an army over it, and it would turn into a mudhole. Here and there, Denethor found paved or cobbled stretches. For the paving, he would dismount and examine it closely, trying to figure out how it had lasted so long. No new roads had been done since the time of the last builder-king, Calimehtar, and only the roads out of Minas Tirith had been maintained. Most of the loss of the top stone was probably due to scavenging as people took the rock to build and repair other things.
Through all of this, Finduilas patiently rode beside him, leaving Denethor to his thoughts. They stopped for dinner in a comfortable, ancient inn three leagues north of Linhir. The innkeeper, an old slender woman with dignified bearing, placed them in a warm nook in the taproom where the other patrons could see them and understand the honor done to her establishment, but keep them away from any intrusion or eavesdropping. She herself brought them ale and food along with a small bell to let her know they wished for something, then left them alone.
'Can it be done?' Finduilas asked after taking a few bites of dinner.
'Restoring the roads? Certainly, but not without cost and effort. It is a shame upon the Stewards that they were allowed to deteriorate.'
'A shame to be shared. Few lords have cared to keep them in repair.' He nodded, mouth full of food. Finduilas expression became thoughtful. 'You intend for Morvorin to oversee putting them together?'
'Mm-huh.' Denethor hastily washed down his food with a swig of ale. 'He wishes it done, and he will not mind all the riding. Morvorin likes traveling.'
'You will have him often in Minas Tirith, though, yes?'
'And your real reason for this?'
'I have spent too much time on the shores. It is time to attend to the mountains.'
'And?' Her gaze was keen.
'I think he will not seek to divide for his own purposes, so he should become known to Thorongil.'
'Will the captain also be often in the City?'
Denethor sighed. 'That will depend upon our foes. And the whim of the Steward.'
'This year,' she quietly replied, 'we must bring him fully to agreement with you.'
'He said he would stay.'
'When?' Finduilas asked. 'How did this come about?'
'After yáviérë. He had told the Steward that he might leave at the end of his service come spring.'
Finduilas was incredulous. 'He would simply walk away from his sworn duty?'
'I challenged him on this point later. He said he would not leave.' Denethor pushed his food around on his plate. 'I think he has given up on the North.'
'No. He may leave it be for a time, but he has not abandoned it. Given what he said about roads I think it likely that he will wish to do his own rebuilding.'
Denethor did not answer, concentrating on his meal. He spoke of ruins and empty towers. Denethor wondered if the road he saw in the palantír still stood. Who would not wish to rebuild that way? Only when he had finished his food did he answer. 'The captain's word is not lightly to be discounted, but you have a point. He will have to give his word more directly, and dispel the doubts of others. He has to swear.'
Finduilas shook her head. 'I do not think you will ever extract that oath from him. He is proud of the North, just as you are of Gondor.'
'There is nothing there for him…'
'His kin are there. His pride. Do not think to shame him by pointing out the emptiness of his pockets, for what drives him cannot be purchased. Would you trust him, otherwise, no matter what portents you had seen?'
'No, I would not.' Finduilas nodded and attended to her meal. Denethor sipped his ale, waiting for her to finish. 'Your rebuilding has gone well, Alquallë. The captain is presentable.'
'New clothes are simple enough, but they are only the start.'
'What next?'
'You wish for Morvorin to respect Thorongil, yes?'
'Yes,' Denethor replied warily, uncertain at Finduilas questions and her fierce gaze. The light within her grew, dazzling him.
'He cannot be a beggar if he is to be respected. The captain must be beholden to no one. It is not enough, prince, to free him of his current patron. He must be free of any. Even you.'
For a moment, Denethor could do nothing but stare stupidly at Finduilas. 'Free of me?'
'How can he keep his promises if they are always hedged about with gold?' With a smile, Finduilas rang the bell to summon the innkeeper. After she paid the woman, Finduilas asked to be shown about the inn, which the innkeeper did with much pride. Finduilas admired the four neat rooms for travelers, the well-stocked linen chests, the savory-scented kitchen, and other things dear to women's hearts. When Gaerhûl and Gull were brought to them, Finduilas said she wished to walk for a while to allow her meal to settle. They walked for several furlongs before she spoke. 'How can Thorongil be a man of Gondor if he is kept like a mistress?'
'Then he should not lend himself to Beruthiel.'
'He said to me that he is paid no more than any other of the Lost receive. Is this so?'
'That is a disgraceful thing. He should have gold to give to his mother and enough for himself as well.'
'So he must be paid more? That is easily enough done.'
'Not enough. He must be dowered, so that he may speak and do as he pleases.'
'He is a bride?'
'Yes,' she answered simply, 'and one with several ardent suitors. He needs means, a house, and probably a wife before he may be his own man. Else, he will always need to choose a patron over Gondor. That is, prince, if you still intend what we have discussed.'
'I do.'
Finduilas nodded. They walked another furlong before she stopped and said she wished to ride. Denethor boosted her onto Gull and mounted Gaerhûl. Finduilas did not urge the mare forward but sat, looking around her. 'Denethor?'
'Should we speak to Thorongil of what we know and plan? It would be simpler to do what we intend if he knows we do not mean him harm.'
'No. At least, not yet. If he keeps his silence and secrecy, then it is for a reason. He does not wish himself known and we must abide by it. It is not for us to speak first. Also, when he speaks, we will know that he trusts us. He should trust us. He is… to this my house has sworn its life and honor – to serve until the king should come again.' Denethor stared south towards Linhir. 'Neither are the Stewards kept or bought. Our only coin is loyalty, and that is what he shall pay.' The veil will be removed, and we shall See each other.
Linhir, 5 January, 2978 T.A.
Thorongil stood quietly, head bowed, and did not seem to mind the long minutes that Denethor took for the standing silence. He did not intend to take so long, but this night his turn to the west left him troubled, not peaceful. Finduilas was not with him. A year ago yesterday, Angelimir had died; Alquallë was with her parents to ease their sorrow. She had stayed last night at the Nest and Denethor did not expect her back before the morrow. Beregar and Wren were there with her.
He had fallen asleep in his chair in the study in the small hours of the morning. Dreams consumed him. Always, Denethor was aboard a swift ship. Ahead lay different things, changing and shifting like light upon the water – a terrible storm of fire and thunder, an emerald isle rising from a golden sea, the City appearing out of the mists of Anduin, ancient towers gleaming with gems wrought by the Elves, a forbidding wall of stone casting black shadows far out across a too-still bay. The weight of his vows dragged him down, clinking together upon the lanyard, and he had to grasp the ship's wheel to keep himself upright. No matter where he looked, he could not see Finduilas, though his heart led him to her, cleaving a path through all that loomed ahead. Behind him, a deep voice spoke in a language he did not know, filling him with awe, and strong hands grasped his shoulders, steadying him so he could pilot the ship.
Thorongil had discovered him this morning slumped over the desk, council papers crumpled under his arms and littering the floor at his feet. Though Denethor did not ask it of him, the captain stayed with him through the day. They spoke little. Thorongil smoked his herbs, filling the study with a sweet-smelling blue haze. Denethor read over the captain's report to be presented tomorrow at the council and made notes on it in the cipher, which made Thorongil chuckle when he read them. After dinner, they went to the stables accompanied by a few of the guardsmen. Sometime in the afternoon or evening a messenger from Minas Tirith bearing the Steward's guidance from the Great Council would arrive and Denethor wished to be certain that the message pouch came to him alone. The guardsmen were instructed to bring the messenger to the house as soon as he arrived. There was still no sign of the man by supper, which only added to Denethor's unease.
With a sigh, Denethor indicated they should sit and eat. As at the noontide meal, he picked at it, having no real appetite. He did not much care for the southern dishes the cook here prepared, missing the interesting and unusual flavors their own cook concocted. The wine was passable, so he concentrated on that.
'If you eat something, it will help you sleep.' Denethor shot a sour look at Thorongil who was making solid inroads on his own plate. The captain smiled and gestured at the roast. 'The meat can stand some salt, but it is good.'
'I'm not hungry.'
'You are not sleeping at your desk tonight,' Thorongil went on, ignoring Denethor's glower. 'A few hours of dozing and a crick in your neck are not sufficient for the council.' The fact that the captain was right did not improve Denethor's mood, and he regarded the food with greater distaste than before. Ignoring the meat, he refilled his cup. 'Wine alone will just make your head ache.'
A tap at the door forestalled Denethor's withering reply. 'Come in.'
Aerin opened the door. 'Lord Denethor, the northern messenger is here, and…'
'Show him in at once. And bring a plate so he may eat.' She nodded and left. 'At last! What has kept him?'
'He probably forgot to eat at the last inn and lost his strength,' the captain replied, eyes twinkling. Thorongil's mirth and Denethor's ire both disappeared when the messenger entered.
It was Brandir. Denethor had never seen his brother-in-law look so haggard, even after a season of war. Brandir's face and clothes were grimed from his journey, his shoulders drooped in weariness, and his eyes were dull. The dirt of the road had settled into lines in his face and he looked much older than his forty-nine years. Brandir gestured at a leather pouch slung over his shoulder. 'Warden, Captain, I bring the Steward's guidance.'
'Who cares about that? Sit down!' Thorongil said, relieving Brandir of his burden. Denethor set a chair near the fire and ushered the man to it. Thorongil left the room, but quickly returned, telling them that hot water and a warm blanket were on their way. Brandir nodded, not resisting Denethor's efforts to remove his cold and dirty outer clothes.
'Brandir, what are you doing here?' Denethor asked in exasperation as he wrestled off one of Brandir's boots.
His brother-in-law flinched and ducked his head. 'As the Steward ordered,' he muttered, 'I brought this as soon as I could. I need not stay.' Brandir tried to rise from the chair. Denethor and Thorongil each grabbed a shoulder and pushed him back into his seat.
'Don't be…' Denethor began.
'..a fool, Brandir!' Brandir bitterly ended. He glared at Denethor for a moment, then sighed and let his eyes drop to the floor. 'But that's what I am, brother. A fool.'
'You're weary, that's all.' Denethor pulled off the other boot, then took Brandir's cold hands between his own, chafing them to warm them. Thorongil answered another tap at the door, returning with a basin, a ewer of warm water, and some clean cloths. Brandir sat docilely while Denethor scrubbed his hands clean and washed the grime from his face. 'Did you ride all this way by yourself, Brandir?' Denethor asked.
'No. With the messengers.'
Thorongil brought over food and wine. 'Friend Brandir,' he gently scolded, 'though we are joyful at your company, you should not have ridden so far and fast. Messengers should bring messages!'
Brandir gave Denethor an odd look, before shrugging. 'There is much I carried that could not be entrusted to a simple messenger. There are letters for the Lady.'
Thorongil went to the table and returned with Denethor's unfinished supper. Handing the plate to Denethor, he said, 'You keep Brandir company. I'll sort the bag.' Before Denethor could protest, the captain brought a second chair to the fire, then sat on the floor between them, upending the contents of the message pouch before them. Aerin bustled in a moment later with a warmed blanket to put around Brandir's shoulders and a hearth-heated stone wrapped in cloth for his feet. Thorongil began to put the messages into piles and, without looking up, said 'Both of you, eat.' Denethor tried to ignore the order, but could not.
After he ate a few bites, Brandir asked, 'Where is the Lady?' Two spots of crimson bloomed on his pale cheeks as he said this, and he did not look up.
'Finduilas is with her parents tonight. She will return tomorrow.'
Brandir nodded. 'It did not feel like the Great Council this year without the two of you.'
'Are the beacons well-tended?' Denethor prompted, earning a slight smile in return.
'Yes, Warden, they are. There was a guest of note, however. Prince Théoden came to our council. He was disappointed that you and Thorongil were not there. I think he wished most to speak to you.' There was more spirit in Brandir's words now, and his pallor faded. Denethor asked after the doings of the City and soon his brother-in-law was talking in a more cheerful manner. Denethor did not trust it; it seemed forced. No doubt the man's mood was connected to turmoil of the Steward's house. He wished to get to the bottom of it, but not with an audience.
'Thorongil,' Denethor said, 'take the council notes to the study and read them over. I will be in later.' The captain set the sorted messages on the table, keeping the council notes, and left. Denethor poured more wine for himself and Brandir, then sat, waiting for the other to explain his odd manner.
When Denethor did not talk, Brandir's face began to redden again, and he picked at the edge of the blanket. 'It was not just the Grand Council. All has been odd this Yule with you gone. The City is colder than I've ever known it. The celebrations were diminished. We all looked south. For warmth.' Brandir sighed and set down his plate. 'You have much to do. I should not keep you.'
'Nonsense. Unless you wish to rest now. Let me call Aerin to make your bed up.'
'No, no need. I'll go to the garrison,' Brandir answered, standing and looking for his boots.
Denethor bit back telling Brandir to quit being foolish. 'No, you will not. Finduilas will be angry with the both of us if you do.'
'She will be angry if I stay! She has banished me from her presence for my presumption! But I was only trying to warn her, and I said it all wrong, and, I swear, I am not part of it!'
'What are you talking about?' Denethor asked, completely confused. This sounded dire, yet Finduilas had not spoken to him of anything involving Brandir. 'I know of no banishment.'
'Yes! Since I… I insulted her near mid-summer, and ever since she has looked upon me coldly and I have not dared to approach. But I shall bear it. Maiaberiel and Ecthelion both say that I have caused great discord and we are all spurned because of my insult.'
Denethor tried to puzzle this out. 'You said an insult to Finduilas?'
'Yes,' Brandir replied miserably.
'But you did this to prevent greater harm, to warn her?' Brandir nodded. 'What harm is this?'
Brandir paced the room, the blanket pulled haphazardly around him. 'You said once to clean out my own midden. I left you to danger before, and shan't do so again. But I know not how to protect you, Denethor, for you always go headlong into folly!'
Denethor was completely confused. 'What has this to do with offering insult to my wife?'
'My own and the Steward would make a widow of the Lady to achieve what they first sought.'
'I am well aware that I have been sent into danger, but no more so than before.'
'But if she loves, they cannot succeed, even…' Brandir broke off, staring at Denethor in dismay, then pulled the blanket over his head and sank to the ground. 'Oh, by all the powers, I am such a fool!' he wailed, huddling under the blanket.
Denethor sat near Brandir and tried to remove the blanket. Brandir clutched at it, refusing to let go. 'Brandir, please cease your foolishness for a few minutes.' Brandir shook his head. 'At least unstop your ears then! When did they say you were at fault?'
'After loëndë,' was the muffled reply. Denethor sighed and grabbed the blanket, pulling it away. Brandir looked at him reproachfully. 'The Steward was wroth and Maiaberiel was barred from your house. She did not know why, and asked what I knew, so I spoke of my warning to Finduilas.'
'Which was?'
'To not repent her choice. To not be turned to wickedness. To love you.' He stared at the floor, dejected. 'I could see Finduilas anger at my words, and never has she asked me to return. Why would she? I warned her not to cuckold you, as though she would ever stoop to such dishonor.'
Things started to make sense. Brandir had warned Finduilas, then confessed to Maiaberiel he had done so. When Finduilas barred all from the house, the Steward seized on Brandir's insult to hide the true reason. The only question was whether Ecthelion had told Maiaberiel about Wren. Denethor doubted it. In any event, it made his own death that much more appealing to them. Denethor sighed. 'Does it occur to you Brandir, that there are things you should not say to your wife?'
'Can you speak an untruth to Finduilas?' Brandir challenged. Denethor shook his head. 'So upbraid me not!' As soon as this was said, Brandir slumped, dejected. 'Yes, I spoke unwisely, not having your cleverness, and Maiaberiel saw that her plans had been disclosed to you, and the Lady hedged away from danger. So now I am cast from her good graces and from the Lady's. But at least I have my honor. And the Lady hers.'
Denethor wondered if it was possible to undo the bonds of love once made so deeply, as Brandir was afflicted, and wished for his brother-in-law's sake that they could. To be bound forever to Maiaberiel was a torment this gentle soul did not deserve. 'Brandir, hear me. You have done no wrong to me or to Finduilas. She will forgive your insult if she knows the truth. I know what it is Maiaberiel wishes. Finduilas also knows, and she will not fall for such wiles. As for the Steward, he lies.'
'He lies?'
'My discord with him has naught to do with your words. Maiaberiel is barred for trying to bring about wickedness between my wife and another man. Ecthelion is barred for another reason, and it is his own doing.'
'I will not say, for it is obscene to speak, but almost did I take my wife and leave Gondor for the shame he has brought down upon our house.' Brandir's eyes grew large. 'I know his crime and for that he wishes me dead.'
'I swear, brother, I am no part of this!' Brandir whispered.
'A fool you may be, but an honest one.' Denethor took Brandir's hands in his own. 'You are welcome in my house, but you may not speak to others of what you see or hear. Let that be your cloak against intrigue. You will stay here tonight and on the morrow you shall ask Finduilas forgiveness for your trespass. She will give it, for she loves you dearly and knows there is no guile in your heart.' Denethor looked Brandir in the eye. 'Let your heart be at peace. Tomorrow, brother, you will See her.'
For a moment, Brandir stared at him stupidly. Then he understood what Denethor had said and he whooped and lunged forward to embrace him, knocking them both flat. 'Yes! Yes! Oh, wonderful day! Oh, yes!' Brandir cried out as he kissed and hugged Denethor.
'Stop being a fool!' Denethor growled, but he could not help grinning. He pulled out of Brandir's embrace and stood, helping Brandir to his feet. 'You will stay without argument?' The other nodded, grinning from ear to ear. 'Wait here.' In a few minutes, Aerin had a maid prepare one of the sleeping chambers and Denethor helped the weary man to bed. He stayed with Brandir until he fell asleep, then went to the study. Thorongil was making notes on a piece of paper. 'What have you found?'
'Nothing new, Denethor. There are no surprises. What we prepared for tomorrow is unchanged.' The captain offered the page he was writing. 'Here are the important…'
'I'll look them over tomorrow. Get some rest.'
'How is Brandir?'
'Tired and cold, but better for supper. He's asleep now.'
'You should be, too.'
'Are you going to sing me a lullaby?' Denethor dryly asked, making the captain snort.
'If you wish,' was the impish reply.
'Good night, Thorongil.'
Linhir, 7 January, 2978 T.A.
Adrahil frowned and shook his head. 'But Angrist made a great deal of sense, Denethor. Why should we not send small fleets of marauders along the coast to draw the Corsairs out a few at a time?'
'And thereby risk the few ships we have, as well as make Umbar more defensive,' he replied, 'though I do agree that should they come north of the False Firth, we should meet them strongly. That will not raise suspicion.' They sat in the parlor of the Nest, having a last meeting before the Swans returned to Dol Amroth and himself to Minas Tirith. Finduilas sat next to him, her arm just touching his.
'I think it would be better if we made them wary of attack,' Adrahil persisted.
'Then guard the shores more closely. They will fear to approach without a strong force.'
'And when they have that strong force?'
'As I explained in the Council, the falas garrisons are going to be increased, Prince. The Corsairs will not attack in full strength until their fleet is completed, so expanding the garrisons will be sufficient,' Denethor replied calmly. There was no true contest here. Adrahil knew the plan presented at the Council was reasonable, and his objections here were to preserve the standing of Dol Amroth.
'We cannot take the battle to them,' Luinil quietly noted, 'and so we wait upon their patience. What certainty is there, Denethor, that they will not send smaller fleets upon us, not enough to overwhelm, but enough to give us no rest, harrying us as the Enemy harries in Ithilien?'
'No certainty, only their habit. They raid haphazardly or they seek to conquer the kingdom. There is little in between.'
'Are you certain that you will be able to increase the garrisons? There was little in the Steward's guidance that indicated he thought there was any threat.' Adrahil's eyes were keen. 'He spoke so much of peace that I fear we shall be at war all summer.'
'The increase will be from your own men, Adrahil, and from the southern vales. They will be a strong as you wish.'
'To spend most of their time building roads,' the Prince added.
'The pirates will not always be attacking,' Finduilas pointed out, 'so the men might as well be put to useful work. Better than sitting about dicing as they usually do.'
Adrahil looked at her askance, then laughed. 'As you say, daughter. But, Denethor, I still do not understand the Steward's inattention.'
'He attends to more than you think. Besides, some neglect on the part of the City is grounds for action upon the coast.'
The Prince's expression grew crafty. 'I recall that the City does not care for the coast to be too wayward.'
'To say that the trials faced by the City are of no concern to the coast, that is not acceptable, no,' Denethor said, making his voice stern and holding Adrahil's gaze. 'The City has borne the brunt of the harm, as is almost always the case. But now, the south is at risk. Gondor is a single rock upon which our fortunes together stand.'
Adrahil would not relent. 'What of the Steward?'
'The Steward cannot stop the Corsairs with a wish.' Only the Powers may wish it so. Denethor resisted touching the pouch holding the lanyard. 'But I do not wait upon the Steward's wishes. Four springs ago, you and I stood on the walls of Minas Tirith and took counsel with each other on this matter, Adrahil. We remain in the same position – we have not strength to attack directly, we dare not risk attacking if we cannot undo them completely, and we cannot build our own fleet without being noticed and bring down an attack that much sooner. Tell me, prince,' here Denethor turned to Imrahil, who had sat silent the entire time, 'what are our choices?'
The young man cast his eyes down, thinking. 'One only, Warden. We shall have to wait for Umbar to come to its full strength and allow it to attack us. We shall draw them from their ships to the land, where we must defeat them. With ships, they may even threaten Rohan. Harad and Khand may join them, and even the Enemy, as they joined each other two summers past. It would be better if we could attack them before they are ready and when they are pent up in their narrow firth, but we have not a fleet and cannot ride whales. Yet…'
'Yet?' Finduilas prompted.
'Yet… I… dreamed…' Imrahil would not raise his eyes. Denethor sat up at these words, his heart beating faster. Finduilas hid her face in his shoulder and shivered.
Adrahil scrambled to his feet and knelt before his son, taking Imrahil's hands in his own. 'Of what? And when?'
Imrahil spoke reluctantly. 'Of ships. Small ships flying north before fire. Fishing ships. Trading ships. It was upon the voyage to bring grandfather home. Grandfather held back the fire with silver nets.' He was silent for several heartbeats, then, 'I do not wish the fire.' There was something distant about his last words and the young man raised his face and stared south, eyes perceiving something that none of them could see.
Adrahil sat back on his heels, still clasping Imrahil's hands. He raised a hand to his son's face and stroked Imrahil's cheek until the youth returned to himself. The Prince's brow creased in sorrow. 'It is time, child.' Adrahil did not look away from Imrahil as he spoke. 'Denethor, last year was too soon for Imrahil to serve Gondor. Dol Amroth had lessons for him. No longer. He will go with you and give you the voice of the Sea. Your wisdom is greater than mine to unlock such portents. ' The Prince stood and turned to face Denethor, hands on his hips. 'As for me, the wayward coast shall conjure up a fleet for you.' His mouth quirked. 'And build roads.'
They parted soon after. Imrahil said he would meet them the next morning to ride to Minas Tirith and joked about the good luck to have Morvorin for company, though his eyes kept wandering to distant shores. Luinil and Adrahil both embraced Denethor warmly and clung to Finduilas tightly before allowing them to leave. The walk back to the house was silent, for Finduilas would not speak. It was obvious to see that the news of Imrahil's dreams had dismayed her. At once upon their return, she called for Brandir and made a great fuss over him, ignoring Denethor. He left her to her humor, retreating to the study, where he found Thorongil wreathed in smoke. The captain smiled and would have stood but Denethor waved for him to remain in his chair. He poured them both wine and sat, waiting for the Lost to speak.
'You are thinking, Denethor.'
'Pelargir is an interesting port.'
Thorongil nodded thoughtfully, drawing on the pipe. 'We set out for there tomorrow.'
'You will remain in Minas Tirith.'
'Yes.' The captain's eyes were bright. 'I stay.'
'But you will journey.'
'It is a soldier's lot,' Thorongil agreed.
'I will have boats.'
The Lost's face lit up. 'Enough?'
'If used properly.'
'Like a storm from the Sea.'
'There will be cargo.'
Thorongil cocked his head. 'Cargo?'
'Yes. More precious than victory. There will not be enough boats for that.'
'Yes there will.'
Denethor sipped his wine, meeting Thorongil's fierce gaze. The captain slouched down in his chair, pipe smoke and shining eyes making him look like a dragon ready to pounce. They sat as the bells rang the hour, then the quarter, then the half. The captain broke the silence.
'In the fall?'
'The spring?'
'When I say.'
'And when is that?'
'When will they attack?'
'Two springs from now, in 2980.'
'So shall we.'
'Then I will sail.'
'Perhaps. Only if the Steward thinks you will use them properly. Otherwise, I shall have to find another captain.'
'You serve the Steward, and will do as he commands.'
A troubled look passed over Thorongil's face. 'And you defy.'
'I serve Gondor.'
Finally the captain looked away. He tried drawing on the pipe, but it had gone out. Rising, Thorongil tapped the ashes out into the fireplace and put the pipe away. 'No. He will command it. I will see to it.'
'As I expect you to. I shall not wait upon you, though. Dangerous times call for dangerous acts.'
The captain stared at Denethor a moment before walking to the door. He grasped the handle, then paused, looking at the door. 'She will not thank either of us if you are lost.'
A longer pause. 'Gondor.'
'The time has come, Thorongil. You are Lost. Mayhap you shall be found. Until then, your eyes will look only south. Beware what you seek, lest you find it.'
Thorongil turned to Denethor and regarded him evenly for a minute, then moved a hand. It was a small gesture, perhaps something, perhaps nothing, perhaps by accident.
With a respectful nod, the captain left.


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This section now pulls in listings from our new website www.bobsflatmates.com. There you can list your practice for sale free of charge.
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Holiyah "Lia" Soetoro Sobah (Source: We the People of the United States) |
A previously unknown stepsister of Barack Obama died unexpectedly earlier this year.
Internet researchers made the link between the president and his previously undisclosed stepsister, Holiyah "Lia" Soetoro Sobah, after translating from obituaries published in Indonesia. She died Feb. 26.
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The obituaries identified Lia as having been adopted by Lolo Soetoro, Obama's stepfather, and Ann Dunham Obama Soetoro, the president's mother.
The surfacing of Lia as an adopted child of Lolo Soetoro and Dunham raises the question of whether Barack Obama himself might have been adopted officially as Lolo Soetoro's stepson while in Indonesia from 1967 to 1971.
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Even though Obama makes no mention in "Dreams from My Father" of having had an Indonesian stepsister, the Indonesian obituaries make clear that Obama slept in the same room as his stepsister while the two of them grew up together in the Soetoro home in Jakarta.
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According to the Indonesian obituaries, Barry Soetoro and Lia Soetoro were always together, playing, traveling on family vacations and even bathing.
Obama was in Indonesia from ages 6 to 10.
There is nothing on the public record to indicate that he sent any condolences or even acknowledged the death of his stepsister in February.
The Indonesian obituaries also state that Lia was born in 1957 and that she had three children with her husband, Edi Sobah, with whom she lived in West Java, Indonesia.
A photograph of Lia shows her holding a monkey doll and wearing clothes given her by Madelyn Dunham, Obama's maternal grandmother, when Lia visited Hawaii for three months. The visit apparently was in 1971, the year Obama left Indonesia permanently.
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Obama also does not discuss in his autobiography "Dreams from My Father" any visits to Hawaii after he left Indonesia permanently in 1971 that were made by Lolo Soetoro or a Soetoro stepsister from Indonesia.
While Obama has not acknowledged having had a stepsister in Indonesia, he discussed at length in his autobiography his half-sister, Maya Soetoro-Ng, who was born in Indonesia to Lolo Soetoro and Ann Dunham on Aug. 15, 1970.
WND has reported that in a passport amendment submitted Aug. 13, 1968, Obama's mother identified her son with an Indonesian surname as Barack Obama II Soebarkah, and asked the State Department to drop him from her U.S. passport.
The transaction could have been part of an effort by Dunham to obtain Indonesian citizenship for her son.
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WND also reported in August 2008 that the Associated Press published a photograph purportedly of Obama's registration card at Indonesia's Francis Assisi school. The card showed he was enrolled as "Barry Soetoro" and listed as an Indonesian citizen whose official religious identification was Muslim. An AP spokesman affirmed to WND that the photograph was authentic.


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Mercedes Looking to Make Electric S-Class Cars
Recently, we brought to light the bigger plans of Mercedes for the S-Class segment which include a station wagon, a convertible and a Maybach version. But as we have said over and over again, the brand never runs out of surprises. A few days ago, Top Gear revealed that Mercedes is also planning to build electric S-class cars. The source emphasized that unlike the hybrid S-Class, which relies on a small diesel-powered engine and small electric motor, the upcoming car will be fully powered by electricity. Now, that is definitely something that Tesla should watch out for. According to the report, the information came from the chief of Mercedes' large… Continue Reading »


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When we, Attachment Parenting International, learned that TIME Magazine decided to take on attachment parenting in its May 21, 2012 issue, we had to ask, "TIME, are you news magazine enough?"
Beyond the incendiary attempt to pit mothers against each other asking, "Are you mom enough?," and a strategic cover contrived to sell copies, what did TIME actually say about attachment parenting?
In case you don't get very far past the cover, here is what TIME happened to acknowledge to the world about attachment parenting:
Dr. William Sears, with Martha Sears, deserve recognition for changing the course of parenting and giving parents The Baby Book 20 years ago. Dr. Sears is noted by TIME as "The Man Who Remade Motherhood" and author of many parenting books, including The Baby Book: "First published in 1992, The Baby Bookis now in print in 18 languages, with more than 1.5 million copies sold."
Attachment parenting is changing how we parent: "Chances are also good that, consciously or not, you've practiced some derivative of attachment parenting or been influenced by its message that mothers and babies evolved to be close to each other."
"Fans and critics of attachment parenting can agree on two things: there has been a sea change in American childrearing over the past 20 years, and no one has been a more enthusiastic cheerleader for it than Sears."
"So many of the ideas of attachment parenting are in the culture even if you don't believe in Dr. Sears per se," says Pamela Druckerman , author of Bringing Up Bébé.
"[Attachment parenting] is a new common sense."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
Nurturing touch fosters security: "…it's hard to argue with his overall message that babies who are cuddled feel secure."
Breastfeeding promotes bonding: "He surely deserves credit for promoting breastfeeding and the idea that the bond between mother and baby is critical."
Consistent and loving care is key: "The difference between children without consistent relationships with parents (or parental figures of any kind) and well-parented children who are fed formula (instead of breastmilk) and put in bouncy seats (instead of slings) is huge. The former, science says, are headed for developmental and emotional problems."
Fathers are not incidental to attachment parenting: "Much of Sears' instruction for fathers revolves around the supportive role they can play for their wives." "Sears also encourages "attachment fathering," pointing out that dads can wear their babies just as well as mothers."
Many AP moms work outside the home: "[Sears] says about 60% of mothers with children in his pediatric practice work outside their homes, and indeed, some career mothers are drawn to an attachment parenting model that helps them get close to their babies when they finally come home from work."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
Breastfeeding beyond infancy is … natural: "In 2008, the American Academy of Family Physicians did its part to try to destigmatize nursing toddlers and older children, applauding the WHO guidelines even as it acknowledged that extended breastfeeding "is not the cultural norm in the United States and requires ongoing support and encouragement." The group added: It has been estimated that a natural weaning age for humans is between two and seven years. Family physicians should be knowledgeable regarding the ongoing benefits to the child of extended breastfeeding, including continued immune protection, better social adjustment and having a sustainable food source in times of emergency. The longer women breastfeed, the greater the decrease in their risk of breast cancer. There is no evidence that extended breastfeeding is harmful to mother or child."
(TIME, Extended Breast-Feeding: Is It More Common than We Think?, Bonnie Rochman)
Weaning happens naturally: "So I rarely had to contend with strangers' stares because the older my kids got, the less they nursed. That's the normal progression of things – it's how weaning is ideally supposed to work."
(TIME, Extended Breast-Feeding: Is It More Common than We Think?, Bonnie Rochman)
Attachment parenting advocates societal change to accommodate family wellbeing: "More power to all of us. Let's not blame our breasts for the other societal issues – like unequal pay, lack of daycare and having to protect our babies from toxins – that are holding us back."
(TIME, Why Breast-Feeding Isn't the Bugaboo, Dominique Browning)
Greater acceptance of nursing, including in public, helps families meet their babies' needs: The world wonders what the discussion is: "But much of the world doesn't share America's uneasiness. The World Health Organization (WHO) recommends breast-feeding up to a child's second birthday 'or beyond.' Most U.S. mothers don't even meet the recommendation made by the American Academy of Pediatrics and the U.S. Surgeon General that they skip infant formula and breast-feed exclusively for a mere six months."
(TIME, Extended Breast-Feeding: Is It More Common than We Think?, Bonnie Rochman)
Parenting with intention may be healing and address unresolved needs: "Our parenting preferences matter deeply to us – they boost our self-esteem, or perhaps soothe and heal us from having been parented in a way that didn't meet our needs."
(TIME, "Parents Do What's Right for Them," Judith Warner)
There is value in being responsive to infant cries. We know responding will not spoil an infant. So if the research on "cry it out" is not conclusive, no need to support ignoring cries and the parent urge to respond, in lieu of building trust and a stronger relationship, and relying on support if needed. After finding in his research the science behind Dr. Sears' work lacking, Jeffrey Kluger does acknowledge: "None of this means that Sears' larger philosophy of attachment parenting is fatally flawed – as his millions of believers and their happy, well-adjusted babies would surely attest."
(TIME, The Science Behind Dr. Sears: Does it Stand Up?, Jeffrey Kluger)
Attachment Parenting holds up to scrutiny: "[Mothers] research; they seek out best practices; they join a group, form a committee and agitate for their version of feeding/disciplining/sleeping. If you don't believe me, just visit a breast-feeding support group with former litigators, marketing executives and investment bankers."
(TIME, How Feminism Begat Intensive Mothering, Belinda Luscombe)
Parents are actively advancing the field of parenting; the sciences of development and attachment are affirming their parenting instincts: "We've educated women to forge a new path. Why did we think they'd treat raising children any differently?"
(TIME, How Feminism Begat Intensive Mothering, Belinda Luscombe)
Balance and support are essential to parenting: "Sears tells mothers, "Do the best you can with the resources you have"; he tells husbands to book massages for their wives and shoo them out of the house so they can get a break from parenting."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
This TIME magazine issue does have parents reading between the lines, pleased to discover the attachment parenting name to what they've been practicing.
We certainly don't expect Attachment Parenting International promotional material from TIME magazine, so the work remains to shift culture to responsive and compassionate parenting, and to make clarifications as needed:
Attachment parenting is motivated by a desire to raise well adjusted, strong, independent children, as parents meet the trust and other emotional needs of the child from the very start and it's not the case that: "…it's more about parental devotion and sacrifice than about raising self-sufficient kids."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
The essence of attachment parenting is loving care that features a reciprocal, relational approach that goes deeper than this simple formula: "The three basic tenets are breast-feeding (sometimes into toddlerhood), co-sleeping (inviting babies into the parental bed or pulling a bassinet alongside it) and "baby wearing," in which infants are literally attached to their mothers via slings."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
"Attachment parenting is in many ways the practical application of my father's theory," writes Sir Richard Bowlby Bt., who "lectures to promote a much broader understanding of his father's work [Dr. John Bowlby] on attachment theory," in his endorsement of API co-founders', Barbara Nicholson and Lysa Parker, book Attached at the Heart: Eight Proven Parenting Principles for Raising Connected and Compassionate Children, just to begin addressing the criticism that "The science on attachment is also easily misunderstood and misused. The father of attachment theory is John Bowlby, a British psychoanalyst who in the mid – 20th century studied orphans and children abandoned by their mothers."
(TIME, The Man Who Remade Motherhood, Kate Pickert)
There is nothing that prohibits a parent who works from incorporating the heart of relationship with attachment parenting. Perhaps they may elect to breastfeed or bottlenurse; babywear; or cosleep safely (not necessarily in the adult bed) to get more sleep; and at least nurture their child without spanking or shaming; and respond with sensitivity most of the time. Many find attachment parenting makes parenting and working more compatible, not "impossibly demanding" as Judith Warner perceives: "That's why William Sears, for all his insistence on flexibility and admonitions to 'do the best you can with the resources you have,' strikes so many of us as impossibly demanding for any woman who wants or simply needs to keep out-of-home work a viable part of her life."
(TIME, "Parents Do What's Right for Them," Judith Warner)
Yes, the AP crowd is on average pretty well educated, but it isn't affluence that determines their choices — many continue to make financial sacrifices based on what science (and their own hearts) say is best for their children."The affluent, slightly older and well educated moms who are most likely perusing parenting books like those written by William Sears have already tasted financial independence, self-sufficiency and freedom of movement."
(TIME, "Parents Do What's Right for Them," Judith Warner)
We welcome TIME Magazine giving attachment parenting a public platform for discussion. For many years we have been witnessing a silent transition of the mainstream culture to attachment parenting–not extremism, as parents experience the benefits of parenting compassionately and become more confident in trusting their instincts.
TIME, the blame for mother guilt does not lie with attachment parenting or with any other type of parenting philosophy or culture — the complexity and balancing act of motherhood, encompassing mommy guilt or even typical healthy doubt as we navigate our way, existed before attachment parenting resurfaced. In fact, while TIME perpetuates the idea of an epidemic of immobilizing mommy guilt, moms of every stripe are in no uncertain terms countering, "Yes, we are mom enough." AP brings balance and self-acceptance to mothers, embracing our imperfections and even recognizing how the repairs we make with our children strengthen and grow the attachment relationship. Now, we must move past the misconceptions and myths some of the conversation is dominated by and collectively think of the future we are raising.
Attachment parenting has a pedigree that goes to the beginning of history, rooted in a theory that has 60 years of formal research behind it, and 20 years of reclaiming our parenting instincts from disproven constructs of baby training and ignoring infant cries. If examined without bias and preconceptions, TIME may well one day report on attachment parenting as a "new" scientific discovery. The front cover and title would hail attachment parenting as the next life-changing advancement in society that benefits children, mothers, fathers, families, and society; but it's enough for now.
Attachment Parenting International


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Reported in Notes and Queries in 1870:
The taking of the United States' census, now nearly completed, has brought to light some curious specimens of given names. […] In Smythe County, Virginia, a Mr. Elmadoras Sprinkle has called his two sons Myrtle Ellmore and Onyx Curwen, and his six daughters Memphis Tappan, Empress Vandalia, Tatnia Zain, Okeno Molette, Og Wilt, and Wintosse Emmah. The great number of persons surnamed Sprinkle in that county is given as the excuse for these extraordinary names.
I'm not sure how true that last sentence is, but Elmedorus Sprinkle did exist, and some of his kids did have unusual names. Here's his family on that 1870 census:
According to Find a Grave, Elmadorus Sprinkle married three times, and had children with his first and third wives.
With his first wife he had about 6 children, but we only know 4 of the names: Matilda Jane, John William, Memphis Tremain and Latincy Jane.
With his third wife he had 5 more children named Myrtle Elmore, Okinna (or Okeno) Maletta, Og Wilt (or Ogwilt, or Willie), Emma Wintossee, and Onyx Curwen.
Source: "Curious Christian Names." Notes and Queries 10 Dec. 1870: 499.


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Shure might just be the best-known mic manufacturer in the world (its SM58 is legendary), so the only surprising thing about its decision to get into the world of USB mic recording is that it's taken so long for it to be made.
The company actually has three new products: the PG27USB and PG42USB condenser mics and the X2u XLR-to-USB Adapter.
Both the PG27USB and PG42USB feature a large diaphragm capsule, a preamp with mic gain control, zero-latency monitoring, a headphone jack and a monitor mix control.
However, while the PG27USB has a flat, neutral response and is suitable for recording a wide range of instrument and vocal performances, the PG42USB is designed specifically for capturing lead vocals.
The X2u XLR-to-USB adapter looks similar to Blue's Icicle and CEntrance's MicPort Pro in that enables you to turn any standard XLR mic into a USB one. A phantom power option means that it's compatible with condenser models, and you also get many of the features of the PG27USB and PG42USB listed above.
We don't yet know when the three products will be rolling out, but US prices are anticipated to be $199 for the PG27USB, $249 for the PG42USB and $129 for the X2u Adapter.
(Via Engadget)


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Upcoming Guidance on "in Performance at the White House: Memphis Soul"
Event includes Evening Performances and Daytime Student Workshop
Honoring Memphis Soul Sound
Tuesday, April 9 * White House – As part of their "In Performance at the White House" series, the President and First Lady will invite music legends and contemporary major artists to the White House for a celebration of Memphis Soul music. The program will include performances by Alabama Shakes, William Bell, Steve Cropper, Al Green, Ben Harper, Queen Latifah, Cyndi Lauper, Joshua Ledet, Sam Moore, Charlie Musselwhite, Mavis Staples and Justin Timberlake, with Booker T. Jones as music director and band leader. The President's remarks will be pooled press and the entire event will be streamed live on obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/live starting at 6:55 PM ET. "In Performance at the White House: Memphis Soul" will be broadcast Tuesday, April 16 at 8 PM ET on PBS stations nationwide (check local listings). The program will also be broadcast at a later date via the American Forces Network to American service men and women and civilians at U.S. Department of Defense locations around the world.
As she has done with previous White House music events, the First Lady will host a special daytime event for students. The First Lady will welcome 120 middle and high school students from across the country to take part in an interactive student workshop event: "Soulsville, USA: The History of Memphis Soul." Beginning at 11:00 AM in the State Dining Room, Robert Santelli, Executive Director of The GRAMMY Museum in Los Angeles, will lead the students in an overview of the origins of Memphis Soul, discuss important artists from throughout its history, and explore the elements of soul and gospel that helped contribute to the genre's unique sound. Featured performers from the evening event will share their experiences as well as answer student questions about the music and entertainment world. Students from 16 schools and organizations from the following ten communities will participate: Herndon, Virginia; Los Angeles and Oakland, California; Memphis, Tennessee; New York, New York; Sandy Spring, Maryland; Seminole, Tampa; Tarpon Springs, Florida; and Washington, D.C.
The workshop, "Soulsville, USA: The History of Memphis Soul," will stream live on obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/live. This event will be open press, but space is limited. Members of the media who wish to cover this event must RSVP to firstname.lastname@example.com by Friday, April 5, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET. Press who do not have a White House hard pass must include their social security number, date of birth, country of citizenship, current city/state of residence and gender.
"In Performance at the White House: Memphis Soul" will be the tenth "In Performance at the White House" program hosted by the President and Mrs. Obama. Starting in February 2009, these events have honored the musical genius of Stevie Wonder, Sir Paul McCartney, Burt Bacharach and Hal David; celebrated Hispanic musical heritage during Hispanic Heritage Month; marked Black History Month with events featuring music from the Civil Rights Movement, Motown and the Blues; spotlighted Broadway and the unique spirit of the American musical; and explored the rich roots and resiliency of Country Music.


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Get Ready for #globalNOISE: Saturday #O13
Posted 11 years ago on Oct. 10, 2012, 11:24 a.m. EST by OccupyWallSt
A year ago, the world was surprised by the rapid spread of square occupations calling for #GlobalChange. This Saturday we will take the streets again, louder than ever, with a global cacerolazo, casserole, potbanging protest.
The initiative comes from the international networks of Occupy, Indignados, #YoSoy132, and now many grassroots groups and individuals joined: in hundreds of cities around the globe protests are planned. [see below for schedule and info for NYC]
The focus of the protest is intentionally left open to be filled by local organizers and participants. The result is a turbulent cacophony of issues and slogans: "Don't owe, won't pay" in Spain, "Fuck the Troika" in Portugal, a clear message against war from Istanbul, a protest in front of the annual IMF/Worldbank meeting in Tokyo.
One common theme running through all the #GlobalNoise events is the targeting of political and financial elites who are held responsible for destroying our communities and the planet, resonating the ongoing wave of anti-austerity protests in Europe and around the world. At the same time #GlobalNoise is a symbol of hope and unity, building on a wide variety of struggles for global justice and solidarity, assuring that together we will create another world.
There are many ways to help with the communication and mobilisation:
- International twitter campaign (facebook event) on wednesday October 10, using the hashtags #GlobalNoise and #13O
- Invite your friends for your local event on O13.
- Blog about it, make photos, videos or livestream your local event and tag your contributions with #GlobalNoise.
- For movement media makers: OccupyTheComms has a crowd source media page for globalNOISE which will collect all the relevant media related to the action using real time tools during O13
Main website: http://www.globalnoise.net
Interact: facebook | twitter | occupii.org | interoccupy hub | mailinglist | mumble meetings | email@example.com
Tools: map | images | posters | videos
Manifestos: Paris and Barcelona
Livestream on October 12: http://www.livestream.com/globalnoise and http://www.globalrevolution.tv
GlobalNoise is a moment to establish new connections, strengthen our networks and communicate our plans for the future. The coming weeks and months a large number of events are scheduled, including the Global Education Strike on October 18, movement gatherings in Madrid (Agora99) and Florence (Firenze10+10) in November, the global day of action for the Rights of Migrants, Refugees and Displaced people on December 18.
And then there is an initiative from Montreal, Quebec, called VIA22 which is a global day of action planned for October 22 and continuing to occur on the 22nd of every month. The idea of VIA22 is to take potbanging to the next level by expressing the need that our marches and demonstrations become spaces for sharing knowledge about alternatives.
October 12
7:30 pm
Meet at Judson Memorial Church (55 Washington Square South) for an action spokes-council to coordinate with the many groups participating in the call for #globalNOISE on October 13th. Bring your action ideas or plans for sharing and coordination.
October 13
4:00 pm
Gather at Occupy Town Square in Central Park, just inside the main entrance at Columbus Circle. No tables, bring a sheet, blanket, or just gather on the grass for teach-ins, discussions, trainings using the Open Space format.
6:00 pm
Converge at Columbus Circle, with Strike Debt, for an assembly, followed by a casserole march (in solidarity with the international call to bang pots and pans and make "globalNOISE"). Bring pots and pans, noise makers, to share!


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In research that may surprise off-road riding enthusiasts and safety experts, a Johns Hopkins team has found that crashes involving ATVs -- four-wheeled all-terrain vehicles -- are significantly more dangerous than crashes involving two-wheeled off-road motorcycles, such as those used in extreme sports like Motocross.
The research, to be presented at the American College of Surgeons' 2010 Clinical Congress in Washington, D.C., this week, found that victims of ATV crashes were 50 percent more likely to die of their injuries than similarly injured victims of off-road motorcycle crashes. ATV victims were also 55 percent more likely than injured motorcyclists to be admitted to a hospital's intensive-care unit and 42 percent more likely to be placed on a ventilator.
"There's a belief that four wheels must be safer than two," says Cassandra Villegas, M.P.H., a research fellow at the Johns Hopkins Center for Surgery Trials and Outcomes. "But we found the opposite. People involved in ATV crashes are more likely to die or suffer serious trauma."
The growing popularity of off-road vehicles in the United States has led to a steep rise in the number of injuries resulting from their use. In 2000, Villegas notes, there were 92,200 injuries involving ATVs or off-road motorcycles; in 2007, the last year for which data is available, there were 150,900 injuries. But little rigorous research has been done to determine which vehicles may be riskier than others.
ATVs and off-road motorcycles are designed for recreational use, not use on city streets, and typically are ridden on trails, sand dunes and other rough terrain.
In the first study to compare the severity of injuries sustained by ATV versus off-road motorcycle riders, Villegas and senior author Adil H. Haider, M.D., M.P.H., an assistant professor of surgery at Johns Hopkins, reviewed data on nearly 60,000 patients who suffered an injury after a crash involving one of the vehicles between 2002 and 2006.
The researchers say they don't know why ATV crashes lead to greater injury and mortality, noting they cannot trace the differences solely to helmet use even though 60 percent of motorcyclists were wearing helmets as compared to 30 percent of those in ATV crashes. Even when both types of riders had been wearing helmets, ATV riders still experienced worse injuries and outcomes than motorcyclists, Villegas says. Only a few states have laws requiring the use of a helmet when riding an ATV, says Villegas, and while motorcycle helmet laws are also determined by states, many more have helmet-use laws for motorcycles.
The researchers say it's possible that ATV riders wear less protective clothing than off-road motorcyclists when they head out, sometimes little more than shorts and a T-shirt. Another contributing factor could be the significant weight of ATVs, which can cause severe crush injuries when they land atop victims and lead to a greater likelihood of internal organ or extremity damage, Villegas says.
Villegas says that these findings may allow parents, legislators, educators and those in the ATV industry to make better decisions about the use of the off-road vehicles. She also says that studies like these could help ATV manufacturers design and implement increased safety technology in ATVs, similar to how automobile manufacturers have used research to make safer cars and trucks.
Hopkins researchers Stephen M. Bowman, Ph.D.; Eric B. Schneider, Ph.D.; Elliott R. Haut, M.D.; Kent A. Stevens, M.D., M.P.H.; and David T. Efron, M.D., contributed to this study.
Story Source:
Materials provided by Johns Hopkins Medicine. Note: Content may be edited for style and length.
Cite This Page:


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By USDR
A second imported case of Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS) was confirmed late night on May 11 in a traveler to the United States. This patient is a healthcare worker who resides and works in Saudi Arabia. This case is unlinked to the first U.S. imported case of MERS reported May 2 in Indiana. Despite this second imported case, the risk to the U.S. general public from MERS still remains very low. Both imported MERS cases are healthcare workers who recently worked in and traveled from Saudi Arabia.
"This second confirmed case of MERS in a person who worked in health care from an area of risk is not surprising," said CDC Director Tom Frieden, M.D., M.P.H. "To continue to strengthen our own health security, we need to increase our global ability to support other countries to help them find and stop threats such as MERS promptly, and to prevent them whenever possible."
On May 1, the patient traveled by plane from Jeddah, Saudi Arabia to London, England, to Boston, Massachusetts, to Atlanta, Georgia, and to Orlando, Florida. The patient reported feeling unwell during the flight from Jeddah to London and continued to feel unwell on subsequent flights with reported symptoms that include fever, chills and a slight cough. On May 9, the patient went to the emergency department of a hospital in Florida and was admitted the same day. The patient is isolated, being well cared for, and is currently doing well.
Because of the patient's symptoms and travel history, the Florida Department of Health officials tested the patient for MERS Coronavirus (MERS-CoV), the virus that causes MERS. Those tests were positive, and CDC confirmed MERS-CoV infection in the patient late last night.
"Given the dramatic increase in MERS cases in the Arabian Peninsula, we expected and are prepared for additional imported cases," said Dr. Anne Schuchat, assistant surgeon general and director of CDC's National Center for Immunizations and Respiratory Diseases. "The reason for this increase in cases is not yet known, but public health investigations are ongoing, and we are pleased to have a team in Saudi Arabia supporting some of those efforts."
CDC and Florida health officials are not yet sure how the patient became infected with the virus. Exposure may have occurred in Saudi Arabia, where outbreaks of MERS-CoV infection are occurring. Officials also do not know at this time exactly how many people had close contact with the patient.
Federal, state, and local health officials are taking action to minimize the risk of spread of the virus. The hospital is using standard, contact, and airborne isolation precautions, to avoid exposure to MERS-CoV within the hospital.
As part of the prevention and control measures, officials have begun reaching out to healthcare professionals, family members, and others who had close contact with the patient to provide guidance about monitoring their health and recommending they see a healthcare provider for an evaluation. Public health officials are working with airlines to identify and notify U.S. travelers who may have been in close contact with the patient on any of the flights.
"The rapid identification and response to this case are a reflection of all of the work that CDC and partners have done over the past two years to prepare for MERS entering the United States," said Schuchat.
All reported cases of MERS have been linked to countries in the Arabian Peninsula. In some instances, the virus has spread from person to person through close contact, such as caring for or living with an infected person. However, there is currently no evidence of sustained spread of MERS-CoV in community settings. "The risk to the U.S. general public from MERS still remains very low," said Schuchat.
While experts do not yet know exactly how this virus is spread, CDC advises Americans to help protect themselves from respiratory illnesses by washing hands often, avoiding close contact with people who are sick, avoiding touching their eyes, nose and/or mouth with unwashed hands, and disinfecting frequently touched surfaces.
At this time, CDC does not recommend anyone change their travel plans. CDC advises people traveling to the Arabian Peninsula who work in a healthcare setting to follow CDC's recommendations for infection control. Other travelers to the Arabian Peninsula should take general steps to protect their health. Anyone who develops fever and symptoms of respiratory illness, such as cough or shortness of breath, within 14 days after traveling from countries in or near the Arabian Peninsula should call ahead to a doctor and mention their recent travel.
Middle East Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus (MERS-CoV) is a virus that is new to humans and was first reported in Saudi Arabia in 2012. So far, including this U.S. importation, there have been 538 confirmed cases of MERS in 14 countries. Most of these people developed severe acute respiratory illness, with fever, cough, and shortness of breath; 145 people died. Officials do not know where the virus came from or exactly how it spreads. There is no available vaccine or specific treatment recommended for the virus.
For more information about MERS-CoV, please visit:
- Middle East Respiratory Syndrome: http://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/mers/index.html
- Frequently Asked MERS Questions and Answers:http://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/mers/faq.html
- Florida Department of Health


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Experts from security vendor ESET warn that TDL4, one of the most sophisticated pieces of malware in the world, is being rewritten and improved for increased resilience to antivirus detection.
"ESET researchers have been tracking the TDL4 botnet for a long time, and now we have noticed a new phase in its evolution," announced David Harley, the company's director of malware intelligence.
"Based on the analysis of its components we can say that some of those components have been rewritten from scratch (kernel-mode driver, user-mode payload) while some (specifically, some bootkit components) remain the same as in the previous versions," he noted.
Harley and his colleagues believe this suggests a major change within the TDL development team or the transition of its business model toward a crimeware toolkit that can be licensed to other cybercriminals.
TDL, also known as TDSS, is a family of rootkits characterized by complex and innovative detection evasion techniques. Back in July, malware analysts from Kaspersky Lab called TDL version 4 the most sophisticated threat in the world and estimated that the number of computers infected with it exceeds 4.5 million.
There are many things that make TDL4 stand out from the crowd of rootkits currently plaguing the Internet. Its ability to infect 64-bit Windows systems, its use of the public Kad peer-to-peer network for command purposes and its Master Boot Record (MBR) safeguard component are just some of them.
However, according to ESET's researchers, changes are now being made to the way TDL4 infects systems and ensures its hold on them. Instead of storing components within the MBR, the new variants create a hidden partition at the end of the hard disk and set it as active.
This ensures that malicious code stored on it, including a special boot loader, gets executed before the actual operating system, and that the MBR code checked by antivirus programs for unauthorized modifications remains untouched.
The TDL4 authors have also developed an advanced file system for the rogue partition, which allows the rootkit to check the integrity of components stored within.
"The malware is able to detect corruption of the files stored in the hidden file system by calculating its CRC32 checksum and comparing it with the value stored in the file header. In the event that a file is corrupted it is removed from the file system," the ESET researchers explain.
In April, Microsoft released a Windows update that modified systems to disrupt the TDL4 infection cycle. The rootkit's authors responded half a month later with an update of their own that bypassed the patch.
This kind of determination to keep the malware going suggests that its return on investment is significant. The code quality and the sophisticated techniques are certainly indicative of professional software development.
Several antivirus vendors like Kaspersky, BitDefender or AVAST, offer free stand-alone tools that can remove TDSS and similar rootkits. However, in order to avoid getting infected in the first place users should install an antivirus solution that provides advanced layers of protection, like those analyzing software behavior.


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The Suspicious Growth of the Financial Industry
Societies become more complex as they age. Each challenge…or opportunity…is met with a new rig of some sort. A tax. A regulation. An organizational fix.
As time goes by, these fixes act like friction…they slow the machine. They make it hard to move…inflexible and unresponsive. And over time, more people gain access to a fix — each lobbying group and special interest, each with his own bailout or subsidy…and each desperate to hold onto it.
Output is thus shifted to unproductive activities. The real producers are punished — with taxes and regulations — while unproductive activities are rewarded, with bailouts, handouts and sweetheart deals.
The financial industry was 2.5% of the economy when WWII ended. Now, it is 8.5%. How did it get so big? What does it do for all the money?
The answer to the first question is that it grew as the economy became 'financialized.' More and more laws were passed granting more and more special favors and protections to the financial industry. Just read the tax code. Go ahead, we dare you! You will find special allowances and deals for the insurance industry on almost every page. And there are rules and regulations for pension funds. And pensions themselves. ERISA. 401k. 501C3. SEC. FDIC. Dodd-Frank. CFPB. Everything is regulated…controlled…protected…
And all of this happened on the back of the biggest expansion of financial instruments in world history. The feds transformed the economy from one that made things…at a profit…to one that just made money. The money supply in the US increased by 1,300% in the 40 years after Richard Nixon 'shut the gold window' at the Treasury. That 'wealth' did not take the form of new factories in New England or new tractors in the Old South. It went mostly into money instruments…funneled through the financial industry to the rich people who owned financial assets.
Every potential new competitor had to comply with such a mountain of rules and regulations that he quickly gave up. Even if approved, he could not hope to provide a new product. Instead, he could only provide the same approved services and products that the big, entrenched players already had in stock.
John Kay, writing in The Financial Times, explains what would have happened had the computer industry been tied in the same knots.
"If you needed a licence to enter the US computer business, you can imagine the Computer Regulation Agency interviewing Bill Gates and Steve Jobs in the 1970s. What dutiful regulator would allow someone who had not even completed his Harvard degree to sell software to the public?"
Protected. Coddled. The financial industry went rogue. It was supposed to match investors with worthy investments, helping to bring genuine growth and prosperity to the US. Instead, it matched up most of the new money with itself.
The typical American was impoverished. Forty years after America's money went rogue, he has not a dime's more earning power per hour. And 4.5 times more debt, adjusted for inflation.


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Hey everyone,
I wanted to give a quick heads-up about MDCFUG's meeting, this Tuesday, June 22nd from 6:30 pm - 9:00 pm.
The meeting will be held at AboutWeb's Training Center: 6177 Executive Blvd., Rockville, MD 20852
ColdFusion Product Manager, Adam Lehman, will provide an update for everything ColdFusion-related. From the release of ColdFusion 9 & ColdFusion Builder to the next release (Sully) to plans for ColdFusion on Amazon EC2. Adam will even demonstrate some of the new features in Sully which include integration with LiveCycle Data Services 3. Finally, Adam will elaborate on the future of ColdFusion and hold an open discussion about what you'd like to see in Link (codename for ColdFusion 10) and Storm (codename for ColdFusion Builder 2). Don't miss this opportunity to interact directly with the ColdFusion product team and provide direction for the next version.
Did I mention that the meeting will include a raffle for CF Builder and CF 9 Standard, only eligible to meeting attendees??
AND did I mention the free pizza and beer???
If you're in the area and don't have plans (which I can't imagine why you would on a Tuesday night :p), make sure you attend the Maryland ColdFusion Users Group Meeting!!!
Don't forget, Adam Lehman will be one of CFUnited's keynote speakers, so if you want a chance to meet him and chat, this meeting is the most opportune chance.