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This 1981 motion picture follows in the footsteps of the first Christians, led by Peter and Paul, during three decades of evangelizing in the Mediterranean region. The 195-minute version of the original TV miniseries begins in Jerusalem four years after the death of Jesus Christ when Stephen, a disciple of the new religion, dies by stoning after Jews find him guilty of blasphemy. Among the Jewish accusers is Paul of Tarsus (Anthony Hopkins), a leader in the campaign against the Christians. However, when he reaches down for a stone to throw, he hesitates while other Jews carry out the sentence. Later, on his way to Damascus to root out Christians there, he is thrown from his horse. When he looks up, he sees a bright light and hears a voice -- the voice of the Christian God -- reproaching him for his persecution of the Jews. Paul then converts to Christianity and preaches on its behalf in Damascus, where authorities flog and jail him. He escapes and returns to Jerusalem. There, another Christian, Barnabas (Herbert Lom), introduces him to Peter (Robert Foxworth). At first, Peter suspects Paul is a spy. But after Paul persuades him that he has truly converted, the two men unite in their efforts to win souls to Christ. While Peter remains behind to labor in Jerusalem and other parts of Judea, then a Roman province, Paul goes north to preach in Antioch, Perga, Lystra, and other cities. However, because he converts Gentiles without requiring them to accept Jewish religious law and traditions, the Jerusalem branch of Christianity chastises him. Later, when Peter and others meet with Paul to strike a compromise, asking him to require Gentiles to accept a limited number of Jewish religious practices, Paul angrily rejects their proposal. Eventually, however, Paul and Peter reconcile and end up ministering in Rome during the reign of Emperor Nero (Julian Fellowes). There, they become martyrs to their faith.
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The One That Got Away
Regret that dress you didn't buy last fall? Websites selling still-stylish clothing from the not-too-distant past are at your service
SHOPPING IS A LOT like love. Finding "The One"—the perfect cocktail dress, the easily elegant coat—is rare. And when you do spot it, failing to make a commitment right then and there could lead to long-term regret.
Ghosts of these missed opportunities—whether they were the result of indecision or a lack of liquidity—haunt me every time I walk into a clothing store: If only this coat was as thin and as red as the one in Raf Simons 's fall 2012 collection for Jil Sander. If only these over-the-knee boots had the not-too-high heel and rounded toe of the Hermès style from last winter. If only I had the tangerine Prada faux-fur boa from spring '11 to spice up this so-so dress.
I've often wished I could go back to the moment of truth, slap myself across the face, throw down the plastic and change history. But wanting what you can't have—both in relationships and retail—is never productive. At least not until recently. A fresh crop of websites dedicated to selling past-season duds in new ways have made sartorial time travel a very real possibility. Familiar sites like Yoox and eBay , upgraded with new search technology, are also helpful in reversing that sliding-doors moment.
Buying clothes in this way, however, requires a change in perspective. It's about judging a piece solely by how much you love it, not by how current it is. Once you shift your point of view, shopping becomes more personal, more fun and, in many cases, more economical. "We deliberately don't list seasons on our site so that the customer can focus on the product, the brand and the quality," said Stephanie Phair, director of the Outnet, the past-season sale website that is a part of the Net-a-porter group. The site, which launched in 2009, is now collaborating with designers such as Oscar de la Renta on lower-priced collections based on his brand's most popular designs—making it even easier to find that missed fashion connection.
The Outnet also provides "style advisers" who can aid in tracking down specific pieces. One helped find me a matching paisley Jil Sander jacket and pencil skirt from spring '12 that I'd pondered buying both at full price and on sale at Barneys in New York last summer. I snapped it up on the Outnet, saving around $4,000 dollars on the retail price, and plugged a gaping hole in my wardrobe: the perfect daytime wedding ensemble.
" To wear something of significance from a certain past season reflects knowledge and passion for fashion. "
On the recommendation of several British fashion editors, I visited Vestiaire Collective, the Paris-based resale (translation: the clothes are preowned) site that launched in the U.K. last spring and now ships to the U.S. The selection is thoroughly high-end (celebrities Sophie Dahl and Rachel Weisz have donated goods), and each piece is vetted by in-house specialists who are trained to weed out fakes. I spotted a cheetah-print fur vest from Dries Van Noten's fall '10 season, which was one of my all-time favorite collections.
While searching the site for a few Stella McCartney Hawaiian-print treasures from the resort '12 season, I noticed the results cleverly turned up a few items from the designer's stint as creative director at Chloé (from 1997 to 2001), including a sequined capelet.
Vestiaire stands out by offering an edited selection of genuine loot, but sometimes when you're desperately seeking something hard to find, it helps to search in an ocean instead of a whirlpool. For size and scope, you can't beat eBay. And to make searching easier, the site has added a "personalized feed" feature that lets you narrow the field to certain designers and categories. By adding new "interests" in your feed—say Azzedine Alaïa dresses and Prada accessories—eBay continually searches its listings for you, refreshing automatically and allowing you to further refine your quest by price and condition. I found my striped Prada stole this way, although I did question its authenticity (the listing, "PRADA SOLD OUT! Rare FASHION SHOW authentic NEW PRADA shawl fake fur pink&white," was slightly suspicious).
Vaunte, an American site launched in November by former Gilt Groupe employees Leah Park and Christian Leone, plays up its glossy connections. Mr. Leone has used his network of stylish female friends—a who's-who roster of fashion magazine editors, publicists, designers and socialites—to create a stellar offering of their lightly used designer clothing and accessories. The goods are organized by former owner, and once you've clicked on someone in particular, you'll find pictures of the subject in her home and an accompanying Q&A about her favorite things.
"We are consignment, but we don't frame ourselves that way," Mr. Leone said. "Like antique furniture dealers, we focus on the provenance of our pieces." On the page for Hermès public relations director Cena Jackson, I found a sundress from the now-defunct label Tracy Feith, once my go-to for après-beach dresses. On another page, I spotted green cargo pants from my favorite Dries Van Noten collection. Annelise Peterson, a fashion consultant who has done P.R. for Calvin Klein and Valentino, is both featured on Vaunte and shops from it. "You can't ask to buy something out of your friend's hands, but you can write a check to PayPal," she said. Ms. Peterson added that she sees wearing clothing from past seasons as a mark of maturity. "When I was younger, I wanted current season stuff," she said. "Now I just like what I like. I love saying something I'm wearing is five years old, because no one can have it!" (Well, unless they track it down through Vaunte.)
So are the negative connotations associated with the phrase "that's so last season" changing? Is old the new new? Some fashion insiders think so. "Because designers are jumping from one house to another so quickly, we wax nostalgic for collections that are not that old," said Cameron Silver, co-owner of the Los Angeles vintage store Decades. Raf Simons out at Jil Sander, in at Christian Dior ; Stefano Pilati out at Saint Laurent, Hedi Slimane in; Nicolas Ghesquière out at Balenciaga, Alexander Wang in. Each move has made the collections these designers leave behind instant collectibles. "Vintage is a relative term," said Mr. Silver. "It's not actually incorrect to refer to a Raf piece for Jil Sander as being vintage…in quotes."
The idea of giving clothing a few seasons to rest before airing it is also a welcome change from the ultrafast, overexposed state of fashion. These days, street-style stars slip into runway samples days or even hours after the items debut on the catwalk. Images of clothes are all over the Internet months before the actual pieces can be bought in stores. "The fashion cycle is broken—it is a dog chasing its tail," said Mr. Silver. "Who wants a dress that they saw on Anna Dello Russo [a Vogue Japan editor] five hours after the designer's show, in Vogue months later, on Anna Paquin at some red carpet event and then finally in stores after it's been completely played out?"
The concept of turning the seasons on their head—to stay ahead by being behind—isn't entirely new. In "The Age of Innocence," Edith Wharton wrote of turn-of-the-century American society belles stowing away their fresh-from-Paris dresses for at least a season or two, so as to not appear vulgar in New York society.
Photographer Tommy Ton, who shoots pictures of well-dressed editors at fashion shows for Style.com, is fed up with women wearing only current-season clothes from head to toe. "To see someone wearing something of significance from a certain past season reflects more about their knowledge and passion for fashion," he said. "It shows they're not caught up with the idea of being photographed, that they actually feel comfortable wearing their clothes." Even retailers of luxury goods admit to being more interested in past pieces than buying what's in-store now. Laure Heriard Dubreuil, owner of the Webster boutique in Miami, is currently hunting down Balenciaga from seven years ago.
"I'm searching for the first four looks of Nicolas' [Ghesquière] fall '06 [Balenciaga] collection," she said. "Everything from that collection was so timeless and chic, so ahead of everyone else."
What I've been pining for recently is a watercolor-print sheath dress from Erdem Moralioglu's fall '11 collection. I had tried it on at his showroom and marveled at the thickness of the stretchy fabric, the complexion-warming palette of coral and indigo and the elegant, past-the-knee length of the hem. But I missed the boat on buying it and have failed to find the piece since anywhere online. Recently, I met the designer in Paris to see his fall '13 collection. I described the dress to him, and he immediately pulled up an image on his iPad. "The fantastic girdle fabric. Yes!" he exclaimed. A few days later his studio called me to say he could remake the dress. (It's something that Mr. Moralioglu has done in the past for similarly obsessed women who contact his London studio—often an option with designers who have smaller companies.)
Making another dress would require a trip to Italy to procure the fantastic fabric, reprinting the pattern and re-cutting the style as a one-off. In other words, it would be expensive, as in several times the original cost of the dress (which was certainly not cheap). But who needs money when you can have true love?
Past Perfect
Search for lost looks with help from these sites, both new and established
How It Works: Think of it as a huge garage sale thrown by fashion insiders. The site maintains a glossy page for each seller with photographs of her apartment and facts about her life and personal style.
What You'll Find: A variety of gently used pieces at tempting prices, like a Carolina Herrera gown for $675 and a Prada dress for $425.
How It Works: It's the sale after the sale. The Outnet partners with a number of designers, and its big-sister site Net-a-porter, to sell past-season goods.
What You'll Find: Everything from MiH jeans to Rick Owens knits, discounted about 65% or more.
How It Works: Like eBay, Vestiaire is a marketplace to buy and sell used goods—but without the real/fake gamble. The site authenticates every item. It's also social: Members create profiles and can follow each other and comment on items for sale.
What You'll Find: A very impressive group of high-end labels—including Balenciaga, Hermès, Céline, Chanel and Balmain—at decent prices.
How It Works: Established in 2000, the past-season site has long-standing relationships with designers, manufacturers and retailers who keep it stocked.
What You'll Find: Possibly the biggest and best selection of unused but not current designer goods available online.
How It Works: A consignment marketplace with the expertise of established fashion site Asos behind it.
What You'll Find: A range of labels from midprice to straight-up luxury, selling for about 50% of their retail cost.
Strike While the Iron Is Hot
Don't let these current spring pieces slip through your fingers
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What is Community Psychology?
Community psychology examines social problems and promotes the well-being of people in their communities.
While the field draws heavily from psychology, it also draws from theory and practice in sociology, community development, ecology, public health, anthropology, cultural and performance studies, public policy, social work, and social justice movements.
Through community research and action, community psychologists produce knowledge that can inform social policies, social service work, helping practices, and community change.
The Community Psychology major provides rigorous academic preparation for students who wish to pursue careers in human services, community development mental health, family and youth programs, counseling, prevention, program evaluation, community arts, multicultural program development, and human relations. The major also prepares students for graduate work in a variety of academic and applied research fields including psychology, sociology, counseling, public health, and social work as well as interdisciplinary graduate work in the arts, humanities, and social sciences including cultural studies and policy studies.
More information about career possibilities or pursuing graduate school.
In addition to the requirements for admission into the School of Interdisciplinary Arts & Sciences, it is strongly recommended to take BIS 170 Introduction to Psychology (or equivalent) before applying to the major. BIS 170 Introduction to Psychology (or equivalent) will become a major prerequisite beginning Autumn quarter 2020. Other useful preparation for this major includes coursework in psychology, sociology, anthropology, public policy, statistics and/or research methods. Students will need strong skills in writing, speaking, collaboration, and community-based work.
TOTAL = 68 credits
*Should be taken in the first quarter of IAS enrollment.
Note: Classes in this major are offered primarily during day time hours.
The IPR requirement can be completed through elective credits or it can overlap with major coursework.
25 credits must be completed in each Area of Knowledge. The Areas of Knowledge are: Visual, Literary and Performing Arts (VLPA), Individuals and Societies (I&S), and Natural World (NW).
Multiply-designated courses may not be double-counted as fulfilling two Areas of Knowledge. Courses may apply to both an Area of Knowledge requirement and an CP major requirement.
Of the credits applying to CP major requirements, a minimum of 48 must be completed at the Upper Division (300-400) level.
With the exception of the General Electives, courses taken to satisfy CP major requirements must be completed in matriculated status.
Students admitted to the AES major prior to Autumn 2016 may be eligible to complete an older set of major requirements. For more information, please check Requirement Changes Autumn 2016 page.
The Community Psychology curriculum advances the four core IAS learning objectives. Students taking courses and/or majoring in Community Psychology:
1) Develop an understanding of human development and well-being within an ecological framework.
2) Draw upon the strengths and perspectives of diverse stakeholders in defining and solving social problems.
3) Utilize interdisciplinary methods and approaches to community action and research.
4) Understand, evaluate and participate in the development of effective intervention, prevention, and health promotion strategies and programs for individuals, small groups, and communities.
5) Integrate knowledge across disciplines and contexts in ways that respect different approaches to understanding human development and well-being.
6) Work collaboratively across diverse groups and organizations through community-based experience and internships.
Please contact the CP Faculty Coordinator if you have any questions, concerns or ideas about the Community Psychology major. To declare the CP major, please contact the First Year and Pre-Major Programs.
I chose Community Psychology at UW Bothell because of the small classes and the flexibility that allowed me to continue working. My future goal is to be an advocate for families. Community Psychology allows me to begin to do that, as well as to develop a career that will help me to give back to the community.


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I Need Wayne On Drugs: Mac Miller On People Hating On Lil Wayne's Dedication 4, Being On Forbes List & More
Fast foward to 17 Min Mark
"Power 105 1's "The Breakfast Club" interviews Mac Miller. He speaks being on the Forbes list, tries to prove he can rap and kicks a terrible freestyle, speaks on why he still would never sign to a major label, headlining his first tour, his thoughts on Lil Wayne, and his drug use" - The Breakfast Club
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New England Patriots offensive coordinator Bill O'Brien is interviewing with Penn State for its head-coaching job, league sources said Wednesday, and a deal is possible soon.
O'Brien has been a top candidate for the job, and he's interested in it. Negotiations haven't yet begun, but the potential to strike a deal is very real.
The Jacksonville Jaguars hope to interview O'Brien for their head-coaching job this weekend, with the Patriots on a playoff bye, but that seems unlikely at this point.
O'Brien's departure could pave the way for St. Louis Rams offensive coordinator Josh McDaniels to return to working with Tom Brady in New England, where the coach began his NFL career.
San Francisco 49ers offensive coordinator Greg Roman has publicly expressed interest in the Penn State job, which came open in November when longtime coach Joe Paterno was fired over the handling of child sex-abuse allegations against a former assistant.


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Consultants & TVR's
Obviously I'm not charging enough...I've only got a diesel Skoda!
There were fears of further outbreaks of violence on the streets yesterday when the UK's busiest motoring forum site, PistonHeads.com, disappeared offline. Desperate car geeks were forced to work, make a Victoria sponge and even talk to the wives, or so they claimed once the forum was back up and running. The Reg was …
Diesel Skoda? Sheer luxury.
Test engineer here with an ancient Honda, which like the Skoda may not be the height of luxury, but can be depended on to get me to work in the morning!
The only ones I know with interesting cars are management, and they are usually brief forays into the world of sports cars followed by the inevitable people carrier/SUV when the stork starts delivering.
I remember it well.
This was during the brief period between IT consultants becoming able to easily afford TVRs and it becoming generally known among IT consultants what a terribly unreliable stonking POS they really were, at which point they all bought Porsches instead.
A mate went to test drive one. On pulling away from a set of lights, the salesman disappeared into the back of the car as the bolts securing the passenger seat to the floor had not been fitted by the factory. The salesman suggested that he buy from their stock of recent model used cars as; "some other poor bastard will have sorted out all the problems for you".
My mate's boss also had one at the time. He was quite keen on it 'til one day the entire dashboard assembly dropped into his lap. Investigation by the dealer showed that it was mostly held on with well-chewed wine gums rather than the more usual screws.......
Always amuses me when you turn up on a client site in a 15 year-old TVR that is worth maybe £8k (ie. less than a small hatchback) and people say "clearly we're paying you too much".
My attitude is that if you think being a contractor is such an easy life with easy money, why aren't you doing it? You too could be driving an £8k labour of love.
TheMiniForum was offline (for maintenance, not hacking [potential or actual]) for a day or two earlier in the week too - thankfully Google's cache kept me from feeling the full effects of withdrawal. Their facebook page took up the slack for a while but soon degenerated into recommending tinned spam as a fix for any technical problem...
Oh here come all the tired clichés from people who either knew someone who had a TVR, or else treat Jeremy Clarkson as the Messiah and believe every word he says.
Still, leaves those of us who actually own a TVR to enjoy them, I guess, whilst the sheeple buy boring cars and trot out their half-baked secondhand ill-informed opinions.
(Although, I will admit that build quality was variable and they do need a little fettling to be at their best)
For an industry supposedly full of the country's best and brightest, outside every IT office will be a fleet of boring German saloon cars, because Clarkson said they are best, and the sheep follow each other to the BMW/Audi/VW showrooms.
The quality is no better than a mainstream hatchback, they are now a lot less exclusive than a mainstream car (!), the ride is usually far too hard and uncomfortable, and the reliability is not as good as people imagine - a head gasket here, a blown turbo there....
The Ultimate Marketing Machine.
Ha ha, agree it's entertaining to hear the same old cliches being drudged up whenever TVRs are mentioned - i've had one for years and it's never broken down and is the best £4k i've ever spent buying a car for the fun it offers! Don't need a big salary to own one - but i'd agree maybe you do to keep putting fuel in it ;)
My woodwork/metalwork teacher and the guy who got me interested in electronics and pneumatics swore by his TVR. I used to live opposite my secondary school and I'd often see him and one of the the other teachers in the metalwork cum garage working on their TVRs at weekends, taking advantage of the workshop and tools available!
This article said:
"Our source explained the site had been contacted by a 'white hat' - a hacker who offered to share vulnerabilities in exchange for a small fee. The two co-operated to close holes."
White hat? Sorry, but someone who charges them for such vulnerability information is a black hat/blackmailing bastard, not a white hat! (The white hats I know would reveal the vulnerabilities to the company without requesting payment first!!)
And as a side-note:
"We have a very technical readership and the site was started by an IT consultant who drove a TVR"
Why would anyone of a technical bent pay attention to anything that a TVR driver would have to say? The mind boggles ... That includes me, I used to own a TVR V8S (Buick 215ci punched out to 4 liters ... the engine is currently in one of my 1972 Datsun 510s).
I wonder if that's what happened to Anime News Network (and its various international incarnations, including ANN UK) too. Allegedly its hosting provider was down for emergency maintenance and everything would be fine in a couple hours... that was the night before last. Everything but the root page currently redirects to a message that the head of the site is flying from Japan to Texas to personally oversee getting it back online.
Try this, for instance, which should lead to the forums if everything were working:


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Okay, so I'm incredibly cheesy and am practically pogo-sticking my way onto this band wagon, just like Jodi Meadows and Beth Revis, but it's just so much fun, and I too loved My Little Pony as a little girl (strange, since I never got into Barbies . . . I think it had to do with styling manes and tails).
Anyway, I will probably grind this concept unto death, but for now I'm just giggly and girlie about it, and have only made a Sebastien pony. You're not REQUIRED to look, you know. You just get extra cool points for doing so.
Thanks for the pony-creating "game" (program) goes to deviant General Zoi over at deviantArt. You have made many people squeal with delight, madame.
Dionadir Trilogy Ponies!
Okay, so I'm incredibly cheesy and am practically pogo-sticking my way onto this band wagon, just like Jodi Meadows and Beth Revis, but it's just so much fun, and I too loved My Little Pony as a little girl (strange, since I never got into Barbies . . . I think it had to do with styling manes and tails).
Cross-Posted From Libri Ago Book Lives
We're celebrating our fiftieth review by going public and giving away bookish goodies to owners of watchful eyes!
In the meantime, you can visit Libri Ago: Book Lives where you have the option to "Like" Libri Ago on Facebook, share about us on Twitter, and add Libri Ago posts and reviews to your Blogger or RSS feed. Doing so won't get you any closer to winning the contest, but it'd really put us in a fantastic mood. We're small, and cute, and we look really good wearing good moods.
Thanks in advance!
Mish! and Ames
My Hair Will Say More About My Mood than My Words Ever Will
. . . this statement goes for both my writing life and my regular life (not that they are mutually exclusive, but there's really not enough Me for both all at once). Recently, I had some drama in my personal life, and my knee-jerk, passive-aggressive response was to dye my hair a color I liked much less than the color I'd already dyed it. The newer color is okay, but it doesn't make me squee with individualist joy like my fire-engine red color did. The fact that I did not cut off my hair indicates the drama wasn't as bad as it could have been; I tend to take a pair of shears to my beloved-long locks when truly despondent. Hey, some people redecorate, I do stuff to my head.
Meanwhile, being a great admirer of fantabulous hair, ESPECIALLY on boys, I have just recently noticed a personal trend. When dealing with a Villainous Person, I am wont to ascribe unsightly follicular features, either by way of some sort of personal Karmic payback on the bad guy, or possibly as a literary cue, the same way classic Westerns always put the local madman under a black hat. The madman's hat, and my villains' bad--or worse, completely non-noteworthy--hair, both banners screaming UNTRUSTWORTHY.
That said, secret's out of the bag, huh? I might have to go back and improve the coiffure's of a few characters, just to keep you guys on your toes.
*Personal Note: Ants love me, fire ants in particular, whereas mosquitoes seem to find me a bland choice. Not that I give either of them more than fifteen minutes of daylight every 24 hours in which to find me, because as we all know, I hate the semi-tropical variety of nature where I live. *sigh* Where one will live for the sake of nearness to a wonderful family.


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Jazz Pharmaceuticals Announces Date to Release Third Quarter 2012 Results
29 Oct, 2012, 20:37 GMT
DUBLIN, Oct. 29, 2012 /PRNewswire/ -- Jazz Pharmaceuticals plc (Nasdaq: JAZZ) today announced that it will host a conference call and live webcast on Thursday, November 8, 2012 at 4:30 p.m. EST/9:30 p.m. GMT. During the call, company management will provide a business and financial update and review third quarter 2012 results.
A live webcast of the presentation may be accessed from the Investors section of the Jazz Pharmaceuticals website at www.jazzpharmaceuticals.com. Please connect to the website prior to the start of the conference call to ensure adequate time for any software downloads that may be necessary to listen to the webcast.
Investors may participate in the conference call by dialing +1-866-783-2137 in the U.S., or +1-857-350-1596 outside the U.S., and entering passcode 22418849.
An archived version of the webcast will be available for at least one week on the Investors section of the company's website at www.jazzpharmaceuticals.com.
A replay of the conference call will be available through November 15, 2012 by dialing +1-888-286-8010 in the U.S., or +1-617-801-6888 outside the U.S., and entering passcode 43813672.
About Jazz Pharmaceuticals
Jazz Pharmaceuticals plc is a specialty biopharmaceutical company focused on improving patients' lives by identifying, developing and commercializing innovative products that address unmet medical needs. For further information, see http://www.jazzpharmaceuticals.com.
SOURCE Jazz Pharmaceuticals plc


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Swiftboating, Stealth Budgeting, and Unitary Executives
Swift Boating, Stealth Budgeting, & Unitary Executives
The American Revolution launched the radical proposition that the commonest of men should have a vote equal in weight to that of the richest, most powerful citizen. Our forefathers devised a remarkable Constitution, with checks and balances, to guard against the return of despotic governance and subversion of the democratic principle for the sake of the powerful few with special interests. They were well aware of the difficulties that would be faced, however, placing their hopes in the presumption of an educated and honestly informed citizenry.
I have sometimes wondered how our forefathers would view our situation today. On the positive side, as a scientist, I like to imagine how Benjamin Franklin would view the capabilities we have built for scientific investigation. Franklin speculated that an atmospheric "dry fog" produced by a large volcano had reduced the Sun's heating of the Earth so as to cause unusually cold weather in the early 1780s; he noted that the enfeebled solar rays, when collected in the focus of a "burning glass," could "scarce kindle brown paper." As brilliant as Franklin's insights may have been, they were only speculation as he lacked the tools for quantitative investigation. No doubt Franklin would marvel at the capabilities provided by Earth-encircling satellites and super-computers that he could scarcely have imagined.
Yet Franklin, Jefferson, and the other revolutionaries would surely be distraught by recent tendencies in America, specifically the increasing power of special interests in our government, concerted efforts to deceive the public, and arbitrary actions of government executives that arise from increasing concentration of authority in a unitary executive, in defiance of the aims of our Constitution's framers. These tendencies are illustrated well by a couple of incidents that I have been involved in recently.
In the first incident, my own work was distorted for the purposes of misinforming the public and protecting special interests. In the second incident, the mission of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) was altered surreptitiously by executive action, thus subverting constitutional division of power. These incidents help to paint a picture that reveals consequences for society far greater than simple enrichment of special interests. The effect is to keep the public in the dark about increasing risks to our society and our home planet.
The first incident prompted New York Times columnist Paul Krugman to argue not long ago that I must respond to "swift boaters"-those who distort the record to impugn someone's credibility. I have had reservations about doing so, stemming from the perceptive advice of Professor Henk van de Hulst, who said, when I was a post-doc at Leiden University, "Your success will depend upon choosing what not to work on." Unfortunately, given the shrinking fuse on the global warming time bomb, Krugman is probably right: we cannot afford the luxury of ignoring swift boaters and focusing only on science.
Pat Michaels, a swift boater to whom Krugman refers, is sometimes described as a "contrarian." Contrarians address global warming as if they were lawyers, not scientists. A lawyer's job often is to defend a client, not seek the truth. Instead of following Richard Feynman's dictum on scientific objectivity ("The only way to have real success in science...is to describe the evidence very carefully without regard to the way you feel it should be"), contrarians present only evidence that supports their desired conclusion.
Skepticism, an inherent aspect of scientific inquiry, should be carefully distinguished from contrarianism. Skepticism, and the objective weighing of evidence, are essential for scientific success. Skepticism about the existence of global warming and the principal role of human-made greenhouse gases has diminished as empirical evidence and our understanding have advanced. However, many aspects of global warming need to be understood better, including the best ways to minimize climate change and its consequences. Legitimate skepticism will always have an important role to play.
However, hard-core global warming contrarians have an agenda other than scientific truth. Their target is the public. Their goal is to create an impression that global warming or its causes are uncertain. Debating a contrarian leaves an impression with today's public of an argument among theorists. Sophistical contrarians do not need to win the scientific debate to advance their cause.
Science Fiction
Consider, for example, Pat Michaels' deceit (in a 2000 article in Social Epistemology) in portraying climate "predictions" that I made in 1988 as being in error by "450 percent." This distortion is old news, but by sheer repetition has become received wisdom among climate-change deniers. In fact, science fiction writer Michael Crichton was duped by Michaels, although Crichton reduced my "error" to "wrong by 300 percent" in his 2004 novel State of Fear.
People acquainted with this topic are aware that Michaels, in comparing global warming predictions made with the GISS (Goddard Institute for Space Studies) climate model with observations, played a dirty trick by showing model calculations for only one of the three scenarios (not predictions!) that I presented in 1988. Here's why this trick has a big impact.
The three scenarios (see figure, opposite page) were intended to bracket the range of likely future climate forcings (changes imposed on the Earth's energy balance that tend to alter global temperature either way). Scenario C had the smallest greenhouse gas forcing: it extended recent greenhouse gas growth rates to the year 2000 and thereafter kept greenhouse gas amounts constant, i.e., it assumed that after 2000 human sources of these gases would be just large enough to balance removal of these gases by the "sinks." Scenario B continued approximately linear growth of greenhouse gases beyond 2000. Scenario A showed exponential growth of greenhouse gases and included a substantial allowance for trace gases that were suspected of increasing but were unmeasured.
Scenarios A, B, and C also differed in their assumptions about future volcanic eruptions. Scenarios B and C included occasional eruptions of large volcanoes, at a frequency similar to that of the real world in the previous few decades. Scenario A, intended to yield the largest plausible warming, included no volcanic eruptions, as it is not uncommon to have no large eruptions for extended periods, such as the half century between the Katmai eruption in 1912 and the Agung eruption in 1963.
Multiple scenarios are used to provide a range of plausible climate outcomes, but also so that we can learn something by comparing real-world outcomes with model predictions. How well the model succeeds in simulating the real world depends upon the realism of both the assumed forcing and the climate sensitivity (the global temperature response to a standard climate forcing) of the model.
As it turned out, in the real world the largest climate forcing in the decade after 1988, by far, was caused by the Mount Pinatubo volcanic eruption, the greatest volcanic eruption of the past century. Forcings are measured in watt-years per square meter (W-yr/m2) averaged over the surface of the Earth (1 W-yr/m2 is a heating of 1 W/m2 over the entire planet maintained for one year). The small particles injected into the Earth's stratosphere by Pinatubo reflected sunlight back to space, causing a negative (cooling) climate forcing of about -5 W-yr/m2. In contrast, the added greenhouse gas climate forcings ranged from about +1.6 W-yr/m2 in scenario C to about +2.3 W-yr/m2 in scenario A.
So of the four scenarios (A, B, C, and the real world) only scenario A had no large volcanic eruption. The volcanic activity modeled in scenarios B and C was somewhat weaker than in the real world and was misplaced by a few years, but by good fortune it was such as to have a cooling effect pretty similar to that of Pinatubo. Despite the fact that scenario A omitted the largest climate forcing, Michaels chose to compare scenario A-and only scenario A-with the real world. Is this a case of scientific idiocy or is there something else at work? Perhaps Michaels is just not very interested in learning about the real world.
Although less important for the temperature change between 1997 and 1988 that Michaels examined, measured real-world greenhouse gas changes in carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4), nitrous oxide (N2O), and chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs) yielded a forcing similar to those in scenarios B and C. The reason for the slow real-world growth rate was that both CH4 and CO2 growth rates decreased in the early 1990s (the slowdowns may have been associated with Pinatubo; in any case the CO2 growth rate has subsequently accelerated rapidly).
An astute reader may wonder why the world showed any warming during the period 1988-97, given that the negative (cooling) forcing by Pinatubo exceeded the positive (warming) forcing by greenhouse gases added in that period. The reason is that the climate system was also being pushed by the planetary "energy imbalance" that existed in 1988. The climate system had not yet fully responded to greenhouse gases added to the atmosphere before then. The observed continued decadal warming, despite the very large negative volcanic forcing, provides some confirmation of that planetary energy imbalance.
Noise and Distortion
Michaels' trick of comparing the real world only with the inappropriate scenario A accounts for his specious, incorrect conclusions. However, a second unscientific aspect of his method is also worth pointing out.
Scientists seek to learn something by comparing the real world with climate model calculations. Climate sensitivity is of special interest, as future climate change depends strongly upon it. In principal, we can extract climate sensitivity if we have accurate knowledge of the net forcing that drove climate change, and the global temperature change that occurred in response to that change. However, even if these demanding conditions are met, it is necessary to compare the magnitude of the calculated changes with the magnitude of "noise," including errors in the measurements and chaotic (unforced) variability in the model and real-world climate changes.
If Michaels had examined the noise question he would have realized that a nine-year change is insufficient to determine the real-world temperature trend or distinguish among the model runs. Even the period 1988-2005 is too brief for most purposes. Within several years the differences among scenarios A, B, and C, and comparisons with the real world, will become more meaningful.
Michaels' latest tomfoolery, repeated on several occasions, is the charge that I approve of exaggeration of potential consequences of future global warming. This is more unadulterated hogwash. Michaels quotes me as saying, "Emphasis on extreme scenarios may have been appropriate at one time, when the public and decision-makers were relatively unaware of the global warming issue."
What trick did Michaels use to create the impression that I advocate exaggeration? He took the above sentence out of context from a paragraph in which I was being gently critical of a tendency of Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change climate simulations to emphasize only cases with very large increases of climate forcings. My entire paragraph (from a June 2003 presentation to the Council on Environmental Quality) read as follows:
Summary opinion re scenarios. Emphasis on extreme scenarios may have been appropriate at one time, when the public and decision-makers were relatively unaware of the global warming issue, and energy sources such as "synfuels," shale oil, and tar sands were receiving strong consideration. Now, however, the need is for demonstrably objective climate forcing scenarios consistent with what is realistic under current conditions. Scenarios that accurately fit recent and near-future observations have the best chance of bringing all of the important players into the discussion, and they also are what is needed for the purpose of providing policy-makers the most effective and efficient options to stop global warming.
Would an intelligent reader who read the entire paragraph (or even the entire sentence; by chopping off half of the sentence Michaels brings quoting-out-of-context to a new low) infer that I was advocating exaggeration? On the contrary. Perhaps I should take it as a compliment that anyone would search my writing so hard to find something that can be quoted out of context.
Having taken this trouble to refute Michaels' claims, I still wonder about the wisdom of arguing with contrarians as a strategy. Many of them, including Michaels, receive support from special interests such as fossil fuel and automotive companies. It is understandable that special interests gravitated, early on, to scientists who had a message they preferred to hear. But now that global warming and its impacts are clearer, it is time for business people to reconsider their position-and scientists, rather than debating contrarians, may do better to communicate with business leaders. The latter did not attain their positions without being astute and capable of changing. We need to make clear to them the legal and moral liabilities that accrue with continued denial of global warming. It is time for business leaders to chuck contrarians and focus on the business challenges and opportunities.
Stealth Budgets & Unitary Executives
The second incident involved NASA's budget. Many people are aware that something bad happened to the NASA Earth Science budget this year, yet the severity of the cuts and their long-term implications are not universally recognized. In part this is because of a stealth budgeting maneuver.
When annual budgets for the coming fiscal year are announced, the differences in growth from the previous year, for agencies and their divisions, are typically a few percent. An agency with +3 percent growth may crow happily, in comparison to agencies receiving +1 percent. Small differences are important because every agency has fixed costs (civil service salaries, buildings, other infrastructure), so new programs or initiatives are strongly dependent upon any budget growth and how that growth compares with inflation.
When the administration announced its planned fiscal 2007 budget, NASA science was listed as having typical changes of 1 percent or so. However, Earth Science research actually had a staggering reduction of about 20 percent from the 2006 budget. How could that be accomplished? Simple enough: reduce the 2006 research budget retroactively by 20 percent! One-third of the way into fiscal year 2006, NASA Earth Science was told to go figure out how to live with a 20-percent loss of the current year's funds.
The Earth Science budget is almost a going-out-of-business budget. From the taxpayers' point of view it makes no sense. An 80-percent budget must be used mainly to support infrastructure (practically speaking, you cannot fire civil servants; buildings at large facilities such as Goddard Space Flight Center will not be bulldozed to the ground; and the grass at the centers must continue to be cut). But the budget cuts wipe off the books most planned new satellite missions (some may be kept on the books, but only with a date so far in the future that no money needs to be spent now), and support for contractors, young scientists, and students disappears, with dire implications for future capabilities.
Bizarrely, this is happening just when NASA data are yielding spectacular and startling results. Two small satellites that measure the Earth's gravitational field with remarkable precision found that the mass of Greenland decreased by the equivalent of 200 cubic kilometers of ice in 2005. The area on Greenland with summer melting has increased 50 percent, the major ice streams on Greenland (portions of the ice sheet moving most rapidly toward the ocean and discharging icebergs) have doubled in flow speed, and the area in the Arctic Ocean with summer sea ice has decreased 20 percent in the last 25 years.
One way to avoid bad news: stop the measurements! Only hitch: the first line of the NASA mission is "to understand and protect our home planet." Maybe that can be changed to "...protect special interests' backside."
I should say that the mission statement used to read "to understand and protect our home planet." That part has been deleted-a shocking loss to me, as I had been using the phrase since December 2005 to justify speaking out about the dangers of global warming. The quoted mission statement had been constructed in 2001 and 2002 via an inclusive procedure involving representatives from the NASA Centers and e-mail interactions with NASA employees. In contrast, elimination of the "home planet" phrase occurred in a spending report delivered to Congress in February 2006, the same report that retroactively slashed the Earth Science research budget. In July 2006 I asked dozens of NASA employees and management people (including my boss) if they were aware of the change. Not one of them was. Several expressed concern that such management changes by fiat would have a bad effect on organization morale.
The budgetary goings-on in Washington have been noted, e.g., in editorials of The Boston Globe: "Earth to NASA: Help!" (June 15, 2006) and "Don't ask; don't ask" (June 22), both decrying the near-termination of Earth measurements. Of course, the Globe might be considered "liberal media," so their editorials may not raise many eyebrows.
But it is conservatives and moderates who should be most upset, and I consider myself a moderate conservative. When I was in school we learned that Congress controlled the purse strings; it is in the Constitution. But it does not really seem to work that way, not if the Bush administration can jerk the science budget the way they have, in the middle of a fiscal year no less. It seems more like David Baltimore's "Theory of the Unitary Executive" (the legal theory that the president can do pretty much whatever he wants) is being practiced successfully. My impression is that conservatives and moderates would prefer that the government work as described in the Constitution, and that they prefer to obtain their information on how the Earth is doing from real observations, not from convenient science fiction.
Congress is putting up some resistance to the budget manipulation. The House restored a fraction of the fiscal year 2007 cuts to science and is attempting to restore planning for some planetary missions. But the corrective changes are moderate. You may want to check your children's textbooks for the way the U.S. government works. If their books still say that Congress controls the purse strings, some updating is needed.
But may it be that this is all a bad dream? I will stand accused of being as wistful as the boy who cried out, "Joe, say it ain't so!" to the fallen Shoeless Joe Jackson of the 1919 Chicago Black Sox, yet I maintain the hope that NASA's dismissal of "home planet" is not a case of either shooting the messenger or a too-small growth of the total NASA budget, but simply an error of transcription. Those who have labored in the humid, murky environs of Washington are aware of the unappetizing forms of life that abound there. Perhaps the NASA playbook was left open late one day, and by chance the line "to understand and protect our home planet" was erased by the slimy belly of a slug crawling in the night. For the sake of our children and grandchildren, let us pray that this is the true explanation for the devious loss, and that our home planet's rightful place in NASA's mission will be restored.
James Hansen is an adjunct professor at the Columbia University Earth Institute and director of NASA's Goddard Institute for Space Studies in New York. He expresses his opinions here as a private citizen under the protection of the First Amendment.
The NASA Mission
To understand and protect our home planet,
To explore the universe and search for life,
To inspire the next generation of explorers
...as only NASA can.


text:
In the early nineteen-seventies, my Uncle Walter, who wasn't a "real" uncle but had a better intuition about my hobbies and interests than some of my blood relatives did, gave me a thrilling gift: membership in the Titanic Enthusiasts of America. I was only twelve, but already hooked. The magnificence, the pathos, the enthralling chivalry—Benjamin Guggenheim putting on white tie and tails so he could drown "like a gentleman"—and the shaming cowardice, the awful mistakes, the tantalizing "what if"s: for me, there was no better story. I had read whatever books the local public library offered, and had spent some of my allowance on a copy of Walter Lord's indispensable "A Night to Remember." To this incipient collection Uncle Walter added the precious gift of a biography of the man who designed the ship. It has always been among the first books I pack when I move. A little later, when I was in my midteens, I toiled for a while on a novel about two fourteen-year-old boys, one a Long Islander like myself, the other a British aristocrat, who meet during the doomed maiden voyage. Needless to say, their budding friendship was sundered by the disaster.
I wasn't the only one who was obsessed—or writing. It may not be true that "the three most written-about subjects of all time are Jesus, the Civil War, and the Titanic," as one historian has put it, but it's not much of an exaggeration. Since the early morning of April 15, 1912, when the great liner went to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, taking with it five grand pianos, eight thousand dinner forks, an automobile, a fifty-line telephone switchboard, twenty-nine boilers, a jewelled copy of "The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam," and more than fifteen hundred lives, the writing hasn't stopped. First, there were the headlines, which even today can produce an awful thrill. "ALL SAVED FROM TITANIC AFTER COLLISION," the New York Evening Sun crowed less than twenty-four hours after the sinking. A day later, brute fact had replaced wishful conjecture: "TITANIC SINKS, 1500 DIE." Then there were the early survivor narratives—a genre that has by now grown to include a book by the descendants of a Lebanese passenger whose trek to America had begun on a camel caravan. There were the poems. For a while, there was such a glut that the Times was moved to print a warning: "To write about the Titanic a poem worth printing requires that the author should have something more than paper, pencil, and a strong feeling that the disaster was a terrible one." Since then, there have been histories, academic studies, polemics by enthusiasts, and novels, numbering in the hundreds. There's even a "Titanic for Dummies." This centennial month alone will see the publication of nearly three dozen titles.
The books are, so to speak, just the tip of the iceberg. Between 1912 and 1913 more than a hundred songs about the Titanic were published. A scant month after the sinking, a one-reel movie called "Saved from the Titanic" was released, featuring Dorothy Gibson, an actress who had been a passenger in first class. It established a formula—a love story wrapped around the real-life catastrophe—that has resurfaced again and again, notably in a 1953 tearjerker starring Barbara Stanwyck and in James Cameron's 1997 blockbuster, which, when it was released, was both the most expensive and the highest-grossing film of all time. (The film was rereleased last week, after an eighteen-million-dollar conversion to 3-D.) There have been a host of television treatments. The most recent is a four-part miniseries, to première this weekend, by Julian Fellowes, the creator of "Downton Abbey." And that's just the English-language output: German dramatizations include a Nazi propaganda film set aboard the ship. A French entry, "The Chambermaid on the Titanic" (1997), based on a novel, fleshes out the story with erotic reveries.
The inexhaustible interest suggests that the Titanic's story taps a vein much deeper than the morbid fascination that has attached to other disasters. The explosion of the Hindenburg, for instance, and even the torpedoing, just three years after the Titanic sank, of the Lusitania, another great liner whose passenger list boasted the rich and the famous, were calamities that shocked the world but have failed to generate an obsessive preoccupation. The aura of significance that surrounds the Titanic's fate was the subject of another, belated headline, which appeared in a special publication of the satirical newspaper the Onion, in 1999, stomping across the page in dire block letters:
The "news" was accompanied by an archival image of the ship's famous four-funnelled profile. The subhead pressed the joke: "TITANIC, REPRESENTATION OF MAN'S HUBRIS, SINKS IN NORTH ATLANTIC. 1,500 DEAD IN SYMBOLIC TRAGEDY."**
The Onion's spoof gets to the heart of the matter: unlike other disasters, the Titanic seems to be about something. But what? For some, it's a parable about the scope, and limits, of technology: a 1997 Broadway musical admonished us that "in every age mankind attempts / to fabricate great works at once / magnificent and impossible." For others, it's a morality tale about class, or a foreshadowing of the First World War—the marker of the end of a more innocent era. Academic historians dismiss this notion as mere nostalgia; for them, the disaster is less a historical dividing line than a screen on which early-twentieth-century society projected its anxieties about race, gender, class, and immigration.
All these interpretations are legitimate, even provocative; and yet none, somehow, seems wholly satisfying. If the Titanic has gripped our imagination so forcefully for the past century, it must be because of something bigger than any fact of social or political or cultural history. To get to the bottom of why we can't forget it, you have to turn away from the facts and consider the realm to which the Titanic and its story properly belong: myth.
If the facts are so well known by now that they seem more like memory than history, it's thanks to Walter Lord. More than fifty years after its publication, "A Night to Remember" (1955) remains the definitive account; it has never gone out of print. In just under a hundred and fifty pages, the author crisply lays out a story that, he rightly intuited, needs no added drama. He begins virtually at the moment of impact. "High in the crow's nest" of the sumptuous new ship—the largest ever built, widely admired for its triple-propeller design, and declared by the press to be "unsinkable"—two lookouts peering out at the unusually calm North Atlantic suddenly sight an iceberg "right ahead." Within a couple of pages, the ship's fate is sealed: Lord gives us the agonizing thirty-seven seconds that elapsed between the sighting and the collision, and then the eerily understated moment of impact, the "faint grinding jar" felt by so many passengers and crew. ("If I had had a brimful glass of water in my hand not a drop would have been spilled," one survivor recalled.) Only then does he fill in what led up to that moment—not least the decision to speed through waters known to be strewn with icebergs—and what followed.
Until Lord's book, what most people had read about the Titanic came from the initial news stories, and then, as the years passed, from articles and interviews published on anniversaries of the sinking. Lord was the first writer to put it all together from a more distanced perspective. The unhurried detachment of his account nicely mirrors the odd calm that, according to so many survivors' accounts, long prevailed aboard the stricken liner. "And so it went," Lord wrote. "No bells or sirens, no general alarm." His account has no bells or sirens, either; the catastrophe unfolds almost dreamily. There are the nonchalant reactions of passengers and crew, many of whom felt the sinking ship was a better bet than the tiny lifeboats. ("We are safer here than in that little boat," J. J. Astor declared; he drowned.) There are the oddly revealing decisions: one socialite left his cabin, then went back and, ignoring the three hundred thousand dollars in stocks and bonds that he had stashed in a tin box, grabbed a good-luck charm and three oranges. There is the growing realization that there weren't enough lifeboats; of those, many were lowered half full. There are the rockets fired off in distress, which one passenger recalled as paling against the dazzling starlight. And then the shattering end, marked by the din of the ship's giant boilers, torn loose from their housings, hurtling downward toward the submerged bows.
There are iconic moments of panache and devotion, and of cowardice. Benjamin Guggenheim really did trade in his life jacket for white tie and tails. Mrs. Isidor Straus really did refuse to leave her husband, a co-owner of Macy's: "Where you go, I go," she was heard to say. Among the songs written after the sinking was one in Yiddish, celebrating the couple's devotion. And—an anecdote that has been repeated in everything from a poison-pen letter sent soon after the sinking to an episode of Rod Serling's "Night Gallery"—a woman in a lifeboat turned out not to be a woman at all. It was just a terrified Irish youth wrapped in a shawl.
Lord had access to many survivors, and the details that had lodged in their memories have the persuasive oddness of truth. One provides an unsettling soundtrack to the dreadful hour and a half between the sinking, at two-twenty in the morning, and the appearance of a rescue ship. Jack Thayer, a teen-age passenger from Philadelphia's Main Line, who was one of only a handful of people picked out of the water by lifeboats, later recalled that the sound made by the many hundreds of people flailing in the twenty-eight-degree water, drowning or freezing to death, was like the noise of locusts buzzing in the Pennsylvania countryside on a summer night.
The closest that "A Night to Remember" comes to engineering drama is an account, shrewdly spliced into the larger narrative, of the doings of two ships that would become intimately associated with the disaster. One was the little Cunard liner Carpathia, eastbound that night en route from New York to the Mediterranean. Fifty-eight miles away from the Titanic when it picked up her first distress calls, it was the only ship to hasten to the big liner's rescue, reversing its course and shutting off heat and hot water in an attempt to maximize fuel efficiency.
The other was the Californian, a small steamer that had stopped about ten miles from the Titanic—unlike the doomed ship, it had heeded the ice warnings—and sat there all through that terrible night, disregarding the Titanic's frantic signalling, by wireless, Morse lamp, and, finally, rockets. Not all of this was as inexplicable as it seems: the Californian didn't have a nighttime wireless operator. (All passenger ships were subsequently required by law to have round-the-clock wireless.) But no one has ever sufficiently explained why the Californian's captain, officers, and crew failed to respond to what seemed like obvious signs of distress. The second officer merely thought it strange that a ship would be firing rockets at night. If Lord had been given to large interpretations, he might have seen in the one ship a symbol of the urgent force of human striving and, in the other, the immovable resistance of sheer stupidity.
About halfway through "A Night to Remember"—this is just after the ship has gone under, and an English socialite in a lifeboat turns to her secretary and sighs, "There is your beautiful nightdress gone"—Lord interrupts his narrative for a few pages of musings about what it all means. The themes he finds are characterized by an appealing combination of nostalgia and skepticism. One notion is that the sinking marked "the end of the old days" of nineteenth-century technological confidence, as well as of "noblesse oblige"; another is a sense that people behaved better back then, whether noblesse, steerage, or crew. When one officer was finally picked up from his lifeboat, he carefully stowed the sails and the mast before climbing aboard the rescue ship.
But overshadowing everything is the problem of money and class. The Titanic's story irresistibly reads as a parable about a gilded age in which death was anything but democratic, as was made clear by a notorious statistic: of the men in first class—who paid as much as four thousand three hundred and fifty dollars for a one-way fare at a time when the average annual household income in the U.S. was eight hundred dollars—the percentage of survivors was roughly the same as that of children in third class. For all his sentimentality about gentlemanly chivalry, Lord doesn't shy away from what the sinking and its aftermath revealed about the era's privileges and prejudices. "Even the passengers' dogs were glamorous," begins a tongue-in-cheek catalogue in "A Night to Remember" that includes a Pekingese called Sun Yatsen—part of the entourage of Henry Harper, of the publishing family, who, Lord laconically reports, had also picked up an Egyptian dragoman during his preëmbarkation travels, "as a sort of joke." The book traces a damning arc from the special treatment enjoyed by the pets to the way in which third-class passengers were, at the end, "ignored, neglected, forgotten."
Even so, Lord kept his sermonizing to a minimum. His book ends on a grace note: the seventeen-year-old Jack Thayer climbing into a bunk on the Carpathia, which saved seven hundred and six of the Titanic's twenty-two hundred and twenty-three souls, and falling asleep after swallowing his first ever glass of brandy. "A Night to Remember" left the love stories, stolen diamonds, handcuffs, axes, and underwater lock-picking to others.
One sign of how efficiently Lord did his job is the air of embarrassment that hangs over the latest studies. John Maxtone-Graham, whose fond and thoroughgoing "The Only Way to Cross," published in 1972, is considered a classic history of the ocean-liner era, interrupts his "Titanic Tragedy: A New Look at the Lost Liner" (Norton) halfway through in order to admit that he'd spent a long time trying to avoid the subject altogether. John Welshman's "Titanic: The Last Night of a Small Town" (Oxford) aims to "both build upon and challenge 'A Night to Remember.' " His subtitle is a phrase borrowed from Lord's book.
Yet, perhaps surprisingly, there seems to be no shortage of new angles. Because the allegedly unsinkable ship sank, its design and construction, as well as the number and disposition of the lifeboats, have often been the subject of debate. But Maxtone-Graham shifts the technological focus, by pointing up the crucial role of wireless communication. The Titanic was one of the first ships in history to issue an SOS. ("Send S.O.S.," the twenty-two-year-old Harold Bride, the Titanic's junior wireless operator, who survived, told the twenty-five-year-old Jack Phillips, the senior officer, who died. "It's the new call, and it may be your last chance to send it.") And the sinking was among the first global news stories to be reported, thanks to wireless radio, more or less simultaneously with the events. One of the early headlines, which appeared as the rescue ship carried survivors to New York—"WATCHERS ANGERED BY CARPATHIA'S SILENCE"—suggests how fast we became accustomed to an accelerating news cycle. The book winningly portrays the wireless boys of a hundred years ago as the computer geeks of their day, from their extreme youth to their strikingly familiar lingo. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH U?," came one response to the Titanic's distress call.
In "Titanic: The Last Night of a Small Town," Welshman works hard to "re-balance the narrative" about privilege, looking past the glamour of first class and the pathos of steerage to the stories of second-class passengers. His technique of providing little biographies of all his characters probably tests the limits of the human-interest approach ("the export of butter from Finland was growing rapidly"), but he offers wonderfully idiosyncratic details. A British science teacher felt an odd "sense of security" once the ship came to a stop, "like standing on a large rock in the middle of the ocean"; another survivor, a boy of nine at the time, realized long after settling with his family in the Midwest that he couldn't bring himself to go to Detroit Tigers games because the noise that greeted home runs reminded him of the cries of the dying.
The impulse to reappraise is not new. The best dissection of Titanic mythmaking is Steven Biel's "Down with the Old Canoe: A Cultural History of the Titanic Disaster," first published in 1996 and now updated for the centenary. Biel, a Harvard historian, showed how the Titanic's story has been made to serve the purposes of everyone from anti-suffragettes to the labor movement to Republicans. He argues that, while the sinking was "neither catalyst nor cause," it "did expose and come to represent anxieties about modernity." One of these was race: an assault on one of the wireless operators during the ship's final minutes was blamed on a nonexistent "Negro" crew member. The influx of "new," non-Anglo-Saxon immigrants was another. Reports by crew members and coverage in the press revealed a prejudice against southern Europeans so pervasive that the Italian Ambassador to the United States was moved to make a formal complaint.
Sometimes, the fancy critical frameworks get out of hand: Welshman's eagerness to talk about "the lifeboat as metaphor" seems a bit grotesque, in this case. One reason that the Titanic grips the imagination even today is that it poses the big questions: as Nathaniel Philbrick writes in the introduction to a new edition of Lord's book, "Who will survive?" and "What would I have done?" These hover over Frances Wilson's "How to Survive the Titanic; or, The Sinking of J. Bruce Ismay" (Harper Perennial), a biography of one of the most controversial figures in this story: the man who was the managing director of the company that owned the ship. Ismay was widely reviled for having entered a lifeboat rather than going down with his ship; worse, perhaps, it seems to have been he who pressed the Titanic's experienced captain, E. J. Smith, to maintain a relatively high speed even though the ship had been receiving ice warnings.
Twining Ismay's story around a series of reflections on Joseph Conrad's "Lord Jim," a novel about a ship's mate who abandons his vessel, Wilson at once confirms and undercuts the familiar cartoon of Ismay. To be sure, there are the sense of entitlement and the convenient ethics. "I cannot feel I have done anything wrong and cannot blame myself for the disaster," he wrote to the widow of one drowned passenger. And yet Wilson deftly evokes the emotional complexities beneath. Drawing on an unpublished correspondence, she reveals that, during the voyage, Ismay fell in love with young Jack Thayer's mother, Marian, and paid her epistolary court after the sinking left her a widow. Even here, though, a self-serving coldness prevailed. When Marian asked for help with her insurance claim, Ismay replied, "I am deeply sorry for the loss you have sustained and of course I know any claim you put in would be absolutely right, but you must agree with me that all claims must be dealt with on the same basis now don't you?"
If you were writing a morality play about class privilege, you couldn't do better than to dream up a glamorous ship of fools and load it with everyone from the A-list to immigrants coming to America for a better life. The class issue is one major reason the Titanic disaster has always been so ripe for dramatization. And yet the way we tell the story reveals more about us than it does about what happened. If the indignant depictions of the class system in so many Titanic dramas coexist uneasily with their adoring depictions of upper-crust privilege, that, too, is part of the appeal: it allows us to demonstrate our liberalism even as we indulge our consumerism. In Cameron's movie, you root for the steerage passenger who improbably pauses, during a last dash for a boat, to make a sardonic comment about the band as it famously played on ("Music to drown by—now I know I'm in first class"), but you're also happy to lounge with Kate Winslet on a sunbathed private promenade deck while a uniformed maid cleans up on her hands and knees after breakfast.
Perhaps not surprisingly, the strongest treatment of this issue was the 1958 film of Lord's book, made in Britain—which is to say, by people who had a better feel for class distinctions than Lord (an American) did, and who were working at a time when the class system was under tremendous strain, and was the object of relentless examination in literature and theatre. It says something that the only star in the film (the popular actor Kenneth More) played a comparatively lowly, though heroic, character—Second Officer Herbert Lightoller, who managed to keep thirty men alive while they all stood on an overturned lifeboat. The film, like the book, depends for its effectiveness on a straightforward presentation of information and an accumulation of damning detail. A short scene in which a group of Irish steerage passengers breaks through a metal gate as they make their way to the lifeboats—they suddenly find themselves in the first-class dining room, set for the next morning's breakfast, and at first can barely bring themselves to penetrate this sacred space—tells you more about the class system than Cameron's cruder populism does.
It certainly tells you more than the ham-handed treatment of the subject in the new Julian Fellowes miniseries. In his hugely popular "Downton Abbey," and in the script for "Gosford Park," Fellowes showed a subtle feel for the ironies of class, but his Titanic sinks under the weight of its ideological baggage: the sneering condescension of the first-class passengers is so caricatured that it ends up having no traction. ("We are a political family," a snooty countess observes. "You, I think, have always been in trade.") There's even a fugitive Russian anarchist aboard to give free lessons in politics: "Europe was wrong for me." Worse, the production looks cheap: the first-class dining room has the ad-hoc fanciness of a high-school cafeteria on prom night. This is a Titanic drama in which the class outrage feels synthetic and there's no compensatory luxe.
If the underlying theme of all Titanic dramatizations has been class, the engine driving the plot has nearly always been romance. Apart from "A Night to Remember," movies and television have tended to ignore the Carpathia-Californian drama, preferring to use the Titanic as a lavish backdrop for tragic passions and eleventh-hour lessons about the redemptive value of love. Fellowes takes this to new heights, or perhaps depths: whereas previous adapters of the story have made their star-crossed lovers fictional, he foists an invented upper-class suffragette on an actual first-class passenger, Harry Widener, to whose death Harvard students owe their university library, built as a memorial by Harry's mother. If I were a Widener, I'd sue.
The yoking of romance to the disaster narrative began with "Saved from the Titanic," the 1912 movie with the weirdly prescient "reality" angle—it's the one that starred an actual survivor. In it, the heroine must overcome her fear of the sea so that her naval-officer fiancé can fulfill his duty. The sinking haunts a 1929 British talkie, "Atlantic," which sets an adulterous affair on a Titanic-like liner, and a bizarre 1937 tragicomedy called "History Is Made at Night," in which Jean Arthur plays a wealthy American who falls for a famous headwaiter, played by Charles Boyer, and travels to Europe with him on a liner that hits an iceberg on its maiden voyage.
The actual Titanic makes an important appearance in Noël Coward's "Cavalcade," a hit on both stage and screen in the early nineteen-thirties. But it took another twenty years for Hollywood to inject romantic melodrama into the story. In Jean Negulesco's "Titanic" (1953), Barbara Stanwyck plays Julia Sturges, a Midwestern woman unhappily married to a wealthy man (played by Clifton Webb) from whom she's become estranged while living an empty life of the beau monde—"the same silly calendar year after year . . . jumping from party to party, from title to title, all the rest of your life," as she says, when explaining why she has absconded with their two children, a marriageable girl and a boy on the verge of adolescence. The arc of the drama traces the husband's evolution from a superficial cad to a self-sacrificing hero; more important, it outlines the couple's trajectory from estrangement to an inevitable last-minute reconciliation that makes them both realize what's really valuable—not money but love.
If the Titanic is a vehicle for working out our cultural anxieties, the 1953 film makes it clear that one of those, during the first years of the Cold War, was the question of who the good guys were. "We're Americans and we belong in America," Julia declares. Middle-class Americans, too: you learn that Julia had started out as a "girl who bought her hats out of a Sears, Roebuck catalogue." On board the Titanic, her prissy, Europeanized daughter is being wooed by a handsome American undergraduate who pointedly remarks that the "P" on his letter shirt stands for Purdue, not Princeton. Steven Biel's "Down with the Old Canoe" makes a further argument: that the film represents Cold War-era nostalgia for a more manageable kind of apocalypse—not the blinding thermonuclear flash but the slow freeze that left you time to write your own ending.
With its focus on feminine suffering and self-sacrifice, and, especially, in its presentation of an ill-fated romance between the unpretentious young man and the class-bound society girl, the 1953 "Titanic," which won an Oscar for Best Story and Screenplay, anticipated Cameron's 1997 movie, which won Oscars for just about everything. A lot of the dialogue that Cameron put in the mouth of his frustrated débutante, Rose DeWitt Bukater (Kate Winslet), reminds you of Barbara Stanwyck's lines: "I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it," Rose recalls, explaining her attraction to a carefree young artist named Jack Dawson (Leonardo DiCaprio). "An endless parade of parties, cotillions . . . the same mindless chatter." But Cameron gave his film a feminist rather than a patriotic spin. Rose, of a "good" but impoverished Main Line family, is being married off to the loathsome Cal Hockley, who seals their engagement with the gift of a blue diamond that had belonged to Louis XVI. ("We are royalty," he smugly tells her as he drapes the giant rock around her neck.) "It's so unfair," she sighs during a conversation with her odiously snobbish mother, who, in the same scene, is lacing Rose tightly into a corset. "Of course it's unfair," the mother retorts. "We're women." Small wonder that nearly half the female viewers under twenty-five who saw the movie went to see it a second time within two months of its release, and that three-quarters of those said that they'd see it again.
Rose isn't the only troubled girl who's being manhandled. Like all ships, the Titanic was a "she," and Cameron went to some lengths to push the identification between the ship and the young woman. Both are, to all appearances, "maidens" who are en route to losing their virginity; both are presented as the beautiful objects of men's possessive adoration, intended for the gratification of male egos. "She's the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all of history," a smug Ismay boasts to some appreciative tablemates at lunch. Later, as Rose goes in to dinner, one of Cal's fat-cat friends commends him on his fiancée as if she, too, were a prized object: "Congratulations, Hockley—she's splendid!"
Cameron underscored the parallels between the young woman and the liner in other ways. The scene in which Jack holds Rose by the waist as she stands at the prow, arms outstretched, heading into what will be the Titanic's last sunset, has become an iconic moment in American cinema. (And indeed in life: a couple was married in a submersible parked near that very spot.) But far more haunting is the way the image of the speeding prow in this scene morphs, seconds afterward, into a by now equally famous image from real life—the same prow as it looks today, half buried in Atlantic mud under two and a half miles of seawater, drained of color, purpose, and life. In this movie, there's only one other beautiful "she" that is transformed in this way: we see the flushed face of Kate Winslet, as the young Rose on the night she poses nude for Jack, suddenly wither into the wrinkled visage of Gloria Stuart, the actress whom Cameron cannily chose to play Rose in the modern-day sequences of the narrative. Stuart, a star of the nineteen-thirties, was less than a generation younger than Dorothy Gibson, the lead in the 1912 film.
When you compare Cameron's movie to its 1953 predecessor, the evolution in attitudes is striking. The emotional climax of the earlier film is marked by Julia Sturges's agonized realization that she belongs with her husband after all; the disaster brings this shattered family back together again. Cameron's picture is about breaking the bonds of family, a point made by means of a clever contrast between its two leading ladies—Rose and the Titanic. At the start of the movie, the ship speeds confidently forward while Rose is described as being "trapped" and unable to "break free" (that corset, that mother); by the end, the ship is immobilized, while the girl strikes off on her own, literally and figuratively. She has to abandon the piece of panelling she's climbed onto—and tearfully let go of Jack (now a frozen corpse), which she'd promised never to do—in order to swim for help.
Rose, in other words, saves herself; in the end the Titanic is the sacrifice, the price that must be paid for Rose's rebirth as a girl who acts by and for herself. Or, rather, a woman: she memorably makes love to Jack during her journey, and gets to New York, while the ship remains a maiden forever. This is another reason we can't get the story out of our heads. If the Titanic had sunk on her twenty-seventh voyage, it wouldn't haunt us in the same way. It's the incompleteness that never stops tantalizing us, tempting us to fill in the blanks with more narrative.
Toward the end of "A Night to Remember," Walter Lord briefly nodded to "the element of fate" in the story, which teases its audience with a sense at once of inevitability and of how easily things might have turned out differently. It is, he says, like "classic Greek tragedy."
He was right. All the energy spent on the mechanics, the romance, the construction, the passenger list, the endless debates about what the Californian might have done and just how many people perished (still never resolved) has distracted from what may, in the end, be the most obvious thing about the Titanic's story: it uncannily replicates the structure and the themes of our most fundamental myths and oldest tragedies. Like Iphigenia, the Titanic is a beautiful "maiden" sacrificed to the agendas of greedy men eager to set sail; the forty-six-thousand-ton liner is just the latest in a long line of lovely girl victims, an archetype of vulnerable femininity that stands at the core of the Western literary tradition.
But the Titanic embodies another strain of tragedy. This is the drama of a flawed and self-destructive hero, a protagonist of great achievements and overweening presumption. The ship starts out like Oedipus: admired, idolized, hailed as different, special, exalted. Sophocles' play derives its horrible excitement from a relentless exposition of its protagonist's fall from grace—and from the fact that his confidence and his talents are what prevented him from seeing the looming disaster. Cameron understood this. The enormous resources at his disposal enabled him to give us that other hero: the ship itself, re-created in overwhelming detail. The scene in which the liner puts out to sea, the stokers filling the boilers, the steam gauges rising, the chunk-chunk of the turbines gathering speed as the pistons thrust up and down—culminating in an underwater shot of the triple propellers starting to churn the water—sets up what you could call "the mechanical tragedy." The director knew that there is an ancient theatrical pleasure, not totally free of Schadenfreude, in watching something beautiful fall apart.
All this is why we keep watching Cameron's movie, and why we can't stop thinking about the Titanic. The tale irresistibly conflates two of the oldest archetypes in literature.
So much about the story enhances the feeling of an artistic composition. The ship's mythic name—the Titans were a race of superbeings who fought the gods and lost—points up a classic theme: hubris punished. ("God himself could not sink this ship.") Steven Biel reproduces the lyrics of a song sung by South Carolina cotton-mill workers: "This great ship was built by man / That is why she could not stand / She could not sink was the cry from one and all / But an iceberg ripped her side / And He cut down all her pride." A rumor that started circulating at the time of the disaster maintained that her sister ship, the Britannic, was supposed to have been called the Gigantic but was given a less fate-tempting name.
The structure of the Titanic's story has the elegant symmetry of literature, too: the hero is caught between an energetic savior (the Carpathia) and an obtuse villain (the Californian). And there's something else that suggests a quality of having been designed as a dramatic spectacle. One big difference between the Titanic and other wrecks—the Lusitania, say—is the way her story unfolded in real time. Torpedoed by a U-boat in May, 1915, the Cunard liner sank in eighteen minutes—too short an interval, in other words, to generate stories. The Titanic took two hours and forty minutes to founder after hitting the berg—which is to say, about the time it takes for a big blockbuster to tell a story.
Tragic déjà vu, classic themes, perfect structure, flawless timing: if you'd made the Titanic up, it couldn't get any better. But someone did make it up. Perhaps the most unsettling item in the immense inventory of Titanic trivia is a novel called "Futility," by an American writer named Morgan Robertson. It begins with a great ocean liner of innovative triple-screw design, "the largest craft afloat and the greatest of the works of men. . . . Unsinkable—indestructible." Speeding along in dangerous conditions, the ship first hits something on its starboard side ("A slight jar shook the forward end"); later on, there is a terrifying cry of "Ice ahead," and the vessel collides with an iceberg and goes down.
As the title suggests, the themes of this work of fiction are the old ones: the vanity of human striving, divine punishment for overweening confidence in our technological achievement, the futility of human effort in a world ruled by indifferent nature. But the writing comes to life only when Robertson focusses on the mechanical details, as in the scene of the aftermath of the collision:
Seventy-five thousand tons—dead-weight—rushing through the fog at the rate of fifty feet per second, had hurled itself at an iceberg. . . . She rose out of the sea, higher and higher—until the propellers in the stern were half exposed. . . . The holding-down bolts of twelve boilers and three triple-expansion engines, unintended to hold such weights from a perpendicular flooring, snapped, and down through a maze of ladders, gratings and fore-and-after bulkheads came these giant masses of steel and iron, puncturing the sides of the ship . . . the roar of escaping steam, and the bee-like buzzing of nearly three thousand human voices, raised in agonized screams and callings. . . . A solid, pyramid-like hummock of ice, left to starboard.
Down to the most idiosyncratic detail, all this is familiar: the beelike buzzing seems like a nod to Jack Thayer's comparison of the sounds of the dying to locusts on a summer night. And yet it couldn't be. Robertson published his book in 1898, fourteen years before the Titanic sailed. If she continues to haunt our imagination, it's because we were dreaming her long before the fresh spring afternoon when she turned her bows westward and, for the first time, headed toward the open sea. ♦


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I'm the keeper of MB6IBO a currently licenced (attended at present) DStar gateway. DMR is currently enabled and connected to the Phoenix master server according to the dongle info. The NoV for DMR on the same equipment is expected this week as submission from ETCC was late last week.
System info is Pi3, Arduino DUE + ZUM 101 modem shield using the KB5RAB image. I am registered with ircDDB as a gateway and on receiving my NoV I will request a DMRid for MB6IBO.
The reason for adding DMR thus dual-mode to my DV gateway is that Cambridge has no coverage whatsoever for DMR. Proposed repeater GB7PY is stalled due to frequency issues. I am a member of the Cambridge Repeater Group and providing a DV gateway is some self training in preparation to turn GB7PT from Fusion only into a multiDV repeater for Fusion, P25 and DMR (Phoenix). DStar will not feature as GB7PI is dedicated to that task.
So to my question. How are licenced gateways envisaged to participate in the network. There seems to be several DV repeater applications bogged down with frequency issues, so simplex gateways seem to be a way forward to fill the spaces. As I see it, simplex gateways, be they private 10mW hotspots or wide area like mine, are treated in the same way and so are limited to the reflectors listed which are all UK thus no access to the TG world.
I look forward to your thoughts in the question.
Vy 73 - Simone - M0BOX - MB6IBO


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Opinion Columns & Blogs
Editorial: University of California's unfunded pension liability is a hard reality sandwich
Students and their parents no doubt welcomed University of California President Janet Napolitano's statement at the UC regents meeting last week that they won't have to swallow a tuition increase in the 2014-15 academic year.
Of course, Napolitano was restating a promise made by Gov. Jerry Brown, a regent by virtue of his office, but did not go as far as Brown.
When the governor signed the 2013-14 budget earlier this year – one granting UC a 5 percent increase and promising more aid in the coming years – he said he expected that tuition would remain frozen for four years, through the 2016-17 school year.
Instead of embracing the four-year freeze, Napolitano said she is embarking on an overall tuition study, a reasonable step.
In October, the Little Hoover Commission proposed a new master plan for higher education, which is long past due. Napolitano should help lead that effort, along with the community college system, California State University and private nonprofit colleges.
The new UC president also made clear she intends to come to Sacramento to fight for more money for the 10-campus system, $120 million in the coming year. Brown offered what he called a "reality sandwich."
The governor said he doesn't intend to give the university more than what he has promised, $125 million this year, $142 million next year and additional boosts in the following two years. In exchange, the governor said, chancellors at individual campuses need to find ways to save money. So does Napolitano.
In her prepared 2,500-word statement to the regents, the former Arizona governor and homeland security secretary used nine words to say how at least part of the additional money she is seeking would be spent: The university needs "additional funding for UC's retirement plan and enrollment growth," her statement to the regents says.
The money would not pay for smaller class sizes, or even higher faculty salaries, but rather escalating pension costs. Alas, the need for "additional funding for UC's retirement plan" is a reality sandwich.
For 19 years ending in 2010, regents required no contribution into the UC pension fund, evidently believing pension fund investments would continue to increase in value in perpetuity. Now, the university must pay $1.2 billion a year toward pension costs to deal with its pension liability.
Students, their parents and taxpayers should not be expected to pay for UC's mistake. Employees, especially ones whose salaries are at the upper levels, need to pay a greater share of their retirement.
Good government pensions were justifiable when government salaries lagged behind what people in private enterprise earned. But golden pension benefits are hardly reasonable now that University of California administrators' salaries regularly exceed $200,000 a year.
The Bee's editorial board endorsed Brown's Proposition 30 to raise taxes by $6 billion a year in part so that the state could continue to invest in public education, which is fundamental to California's future. However, the voters did not approve the tax hike so that people paid rich salaries can retire with fat pensions.
Before Napolitano comes to the Legislature for more money, she needs to find serious cost savings at each of the campuses, starting with reducing unsustainably high salaries for administrators and rich pensions that taxpayers cannot afford.


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How I became Satan (with a little Beezlebub on the side)
9 years ago
"Satan!" I shouted at a classmate for the umpteenth time that day. I waggled my fingers in the appropriate manner to drive home the point. You see, for the past few months I had taken on the role of Satan. My very religious but very accomodating buddy Mark had agreed to do duty as Mephistopholes, and we had split responsibility for Beezelbub.(to be continued shortly. Satan has to cut the lawn before Satan's passive-aggressive wife does it and proceeds to fume for the rest of the evening).


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Celiac disease remains mysterious, even to physicians. In this condition, the body is unable to tolerate proteins found in gluten, a constituent of wheat, barley and rye grains.
Celiac disease remains mysterious, even to physicians. In this condition, the body is unable to tolerate proteins found in gluten, a constituent of wheat, barley and rye grains.
Although there is a genetic susceptibility, we do not know exactly why so many people react adversely when exposed to gluten. The cells lining the small intestine become damaged and cannot absorb nutrients properly. This can lead to a range of nutritional deficiencies and unusual symptoms. Here is one reader's story:
"Several decades ago, I had a persistent problem with cracks at the corners of my mouth. My dentist prescribed a very expensive topical ointment that temporarily relieved the condition.
"When the angular cheilitis was brought to my primary doctor's attention, he said it was caused by a vitamin B deficiency and prescribed prenatal vitamins for me. This resolved the problem. I was still puzzled, however. When I asked my doctor how I could have a vitamin deficiency even though I ate a well-rounded diet and loved fruits and vegetables, he said that some of us do not absorb nutrients as well as others.
"It turns out that he was right, but did not go nearly far enough in trying to uncover the root cause. (I also had slight anemia and some other bothersome chronic problems that were related to nutritional deficits.)
"Twenty years later, I was living in France and being treated for a kidney stone. My French doctors, just by chance, found that I had celiac sprue. Changing my diet by eliminating gluten almost immediately cleared up the myriad problems I had been wrestling with for so many years. My American doctors had been treating me for celiac symptoms for about three decades without ever looking for the cause.
"When I returned to the U.S. in 2000, I asked my American doctor to verify the French diagnosis. His response was puzzlement at the name 'celiac sprue,' as if I had mentioned some rare exotic disease. He also said he did not know how to test for it!
"One of many lessons here: If you have persistent vitamin or mineral deficiencies, check for malabsorption to try to establish why."
The symptoms of celiac disease, also known as celiac sprue, are many and varied. They include: digestive distress, bloating, abdominal pain and cramps, diarrhea, fatty floating stools that are tan or light gray in color, gas, anemia, fatigue, arthritis or joint pain, muscle cramps, itchy skin rash, osteoporosis, neuropathy (tingling or burning feeling in feet or legs), depression or brain fog, irritability, mouth sores, muscle weakness, infertility and easy bruising.
Doctors can now diagnose celiac disease with blood tests that were not available 30 years ago. You can learn more about the diagnosis and dietary treatment of celiac disease by listening to the one-hour interview we did with Peter Green, M.D., one of the world's experts on this condition and author of "Celiac Disease: A Hidden Epidemic." Show No. 856, "Celiac Disease Update," can be found at www.Peoples
Pharmacy.com. To order a CD, please send $9.99 plus $2 shipping/handling to: Graedon Enterprises Inc., Dept. CD-856, P.O. Box 52027; Durham, NC 27717-2027.
Write to Joe and Teresa Graedon via their website: www.PeoplesPharmacy.com.


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Fruit Pigmented Long Lasting Concealer: Creme
All natural, long lasting concealer is water, sweat, oil and caking resistant. Colored from antioxidant rich fruit and vegetable pigments. Very blendable formula lasts all day.
For Whom
For those desiring long lasting coverage that will resist water, sweat, oil, and caking, while simultaneously delivering nutrients, hydration and skin protecting antioxidants.
Directions for Use
Dot concealer on any imperfections and blend using clean fingertips or a concealer brush. Use patting motion.
Zinc Oxide, Shea Butter, Candelelia Wax, Extracts of Organic Green Coffee*, Organic Rice Powder*, Peach, Carrot, Cocoa, Apricot, Lavender Powder, Chamomile, Organic Rosehip Oil*, Vitamin E (a-tocopherol), Vitamin C (ascorbyl palmitate), Cocoa Butter, Extracts of Organic Rosemary*, Organic Oregano*, Organic Thyme*, Organic Grapefruit Seed* and Organic Goldenseal* * Certified Organic


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0330 001 5318
Our boutique is based in Bournemouth, Dorset on the beautiful south coast of England. We welcome walk-in customers and also offer a full worldwide mail order service. No appointment is necessary.
Our online boutique offers an extensive selection of our available styles. If you can't find what you need please do call us as additional styles are often available in-store.
Fab Frocks is a multi award winning special occasion boutique on the south coast. With an extensive selection of styles available, we are one of the leading UK boutiques for all events and occasion outfits.
Copyright © 2019 · All Rights Reserved · Fab Frocks Ltd


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The Avatar wrote:Burning is magic damage. On that point it is also reduced by magic res (I think).
OneMoreNameless wrote:Is it really too much to expect that a game years in development, with a long open beta and over two weeks since its official release would actually function on the most basic levels?
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