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|System: Xbox One*, Xbox 360
|Dev: Developer
|Pub: Publisher
|Release: Releasedate
|Players: 1
|Screen Resolution: 480p-1080p
Taking another page out of the shooter genres book, the class based character selection is another nice (although expected) addition. Each side, Plants or Zombies, have four defined classes. Though they are named differently for each side, they are basically your Assault, Medic, Support, and Sniper classes. Each class has its benefits and drawbacks, which balance the field quite nicely. As you complete challenges for each of the classes, new abilities will be unlocked. You can have up to three active abilities at one time, which are mapped to LB, Y, and RB. These actions can be used at any time, but must be recharged once used, so use them wisely.
If you've played a shooter before, then the control scheme of PvZ: Garden Warfare will be no surprise to you. All the basic controls are there, and the simplistic mapping of the abilities buttons make it easy to pick up and play. Although, I did find that the controls for PvZ aren't as tight as they could be, especially when it comes to aiming. But, by and large, the control scheme functions as it should and does its job.
The visuals transfer well to the next-gen platform, Popcap has done an excellent job of translating their characters to the 3D realm. The environment retains the cartoon charm, without forcing it down your throat. Even though the graphics are sharp and clean, the best part about PvZ: Garden Warfare from a visual standpoint, is that it doesn't overdo it. It could have been easily bogged down with unnecessary animations, screens, and effects, but the developers seemed to focus on gameplay over worthless eye-candy. In addition, the soundscape earns some cool points by retaining the signature soundtrack while expanding it with comical sound effects that adds a lot enjoyable nature of the PvZ.
Perhaps the best part about Plants Vs. Zombies: Garden Warfare is its price point. At only $39.99 US for Xbox One and $29.99 US for the Xbox 360 version, it's a relatively cheap and extremely fun take on shooters, which is all too rare these days. To date, this is the lowest-priced disc-based game to be released on the Xbox One, which is sorely needed to bolster the consoles anemic lineup. If you love the original PvZ games and want to try a different type of shooter, you really can't go wrong here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to call in this Corn Strike with my Garlic Drone. I'm sure you understand.
Joshua Bruce
Video Director
Date: February 26, 2014
Game Features:


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A new sport is coming to Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools this year: Cricket.
The U.S. Youth Cricket Association and CMS have announced a partnership, with a goal of becoming a model for the rest of the nation in their implementation of the USYCA Schools Program during the 2011-2012 school year.
Here's how it works: USYCA, in cooperation with its associate member Charlotte International Cricket Club, will partner with CMS to supply their 136 elementary and middle schools with free cricket sets, instruction and ongoing support. CMS will incorporate cricket into the Physical Education curriculum, while also providing other opportunities for students to play the game, such as in recess or after-school programs.
USYCA will also explore the possibilities for sponsored cricket activities between individual Charlotte-Mecklenburg schools, as well as other extra-curricular opportunities for CMS students.
In addition, USYCA will approach local community leaders to establish cricket programs in neighborhoods, especially in locations where the need for youth athletics is great. It is hoped that under-utilized playing fields might become sites for low-cost, introductory cricket leagues that can attract children who might otherwise have limited team sports alternatives.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Cricket coming to CMS schools this year
A new sport is coming to Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools this year: Cricket.
7 comments:
- Anonymous said...
- July 28, 2011 at 3:08 PM
- Anonymous said...
Are you kidding me.....Why cant we partner with the MLB and have Baseball in Middle School. This is crazy. Whats next Fencing???
- July 28, 2011 at 3:28 PM
- Anonymous said...
Ah, but will there be a standardized, end-of-course cricket test? This is CMS, remember?
- July 28, 2011 at 3:58 PM
- Anonymous said...
Unbelievable. The fields are under utilized because they are taking away the sports our kids want to play. I do not understand why we can't organize as parents and create our own way to fund the sports our kids find exciting to them. Can we boycott the sport in school until we get baseball and golf back?
- July 28, 2011 at 5:44 PM
- Anonymous said...
Anon 5:44
Yes, please, boycott and stay away.
- July 28, 2011 at 6:38 PM
- Anonymous said...
Somebody agrees to give the schools thousands of dollars in sports equipment and teach the kids a new game (new to them; it's the second most popular sport in the world) and all some narrowminded people can do is whine.
- July 28, 2011 at 8:06 PM
- Anonymous said...
And hot on the heels of cricket is rugby!! At long last we can offer our kids alternate club sports after they graduate from high school, especially if they do not qualify for college sports scholarships - thanks to US Youth Cricket Association and North Carolina High School Rugby Association!!
- August 2, 2011 at 3:22 PM

subset: commoncrawl


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Alright I have programmed in Java many times and made games before but I always made applets so this is my first time using JPanel/JFrame. I have gotten everything underway and have been stuck on getting this different style of drawing working for me. Usually I just create an image and use paint() drawImage to display the the buffered image. I decided to try using the BufferStrategy method but I am having the hardest time getting it to work. I know my code is gonna be pretty botched up now since I went through all kinds of different tutorials and what not trying to figure it out. Anyway I'm sure someone can help and trust me I have been working on this all day (roughly 6-8hrs). Posting on the forums is always the last thing I do but sometimes I just need someones help to make it click.
package bttg; import javax.swing.JPanel; import javax.swing.JFrame; import java.awt.*; import java.awt.image.BufferStrategy; public class BTTG extends JPanel { BufferStrategy bufferStrat; Boolean running = true; private short screenSize = 800; public void render() { Graphics2D buffer = (Graphics2D) bufferStrat.getDrawGraphics(); buffer.setRenderingHint(RenderingHints.KEY_ANTIALIASING, RenderingHints.VALUE_ANTIALIAS_ON); buffer.setColor(Color.darkGray); buffer.fillRect(0,0,screenSize,screenSize); Font monospaced = new Font("MONOSPACED", Font.BOLD, 15); buffer.setFont(monospaced); buffer.setColor(Color.BLACK); buffer.fillRect(0,0,screenSize,19); buffer.setColor(Color.WHITE); buffer.drawString("BTTG",5,13); buffer.dispose(); bufferStrat.show(); } public BTTG() { JFrame container = new JFrame("BTTG"); JPanel panel = (JPanel) container.getContentPane(); panel.setPreferredSize(new Dimension(screenSize,screenSize)); panel.setLayout(null); setBounds(0,0,screenSize,screenSize); panel.add(this); container.pack(); container.setResizable(false); container.setVisible(true); setIgnoreRepaint(true); container.createBufferStrategy(2); bufferStrat = container.getBufferStrategy(); while(running) { render(); try { Thread.sleep(10); } catch (Exception e) {} } } public static void main(String[] args) { new BTTG(); } }


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I am 30, I am an evangelical Christian, and I don't drink. Not because I have a problem with alcohol abuse, although I enjoy a good sobriety story as much as the next person. My narrative is a bit more jarring, coming across to fellow liberated evangelicals as a throwback to our not-too-distant conservative past. In a culture that encourages us to celebrate the good things of life—Instagramming an artfully arranged salad, tweeting about Pinot Noir, posting Facebook albums full of vacations—choosing not to drink carries a stigma of pietism, a whiff of refusing to party with Jesus. A faith built on meaningless acts of righteousness, of disdaining the world and its evil values.
In the pastor's home I grew up in, alcohol was a nonissue: not a drop in our house, only grape juice in the Communion cups. Save for my mother's relatives—who served as a warning, since most of them abused substances at some point—nobody I knew drank alcohol. I believed we were teetotalers, just like all other Christians. Then, when I was 17, I discovered a stash of wine coolers in a broken dryer in our garage. As it turns out, my parents liked to indulge now and then, but had kept it a secret from my siblings and me. I suddenly had to mentally rearrange everything I believed about alcohol. Wasn't it inherently evil? Didn't it lead to only bad things—sour breath, ruined relationships, cars full of teenagers careening out of control on the way to prom?
After I found them out, my parents began keeping a bottle of wine in the cupboard and some coconut rum on top of the fridge. And I began to see that having an occasional drink was a grown-up way of enjoying yourself. It became a signpost of the wider ...1
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Barney Sherman
Classical Music Host
Barney Sherman joined Iowa Public Radio member station KSUI in fall 2001 as Classical music host. In his role with Iowa Public Radio, Barney hosts weekday and Sunday afternoon Classical programs. He has written about music in books for Oxford and Cambridge University Presses and in articles for the New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Journal of the American Musicological Society, Early Music, and many other publications. Another topic he has written about is Iowa, for The Atlantic (and for Iowa Public Radio!).


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The last rays of dusk had passed and the long shadows of darkness were settling themselves around the room as I sat on the couch and let the strains of my favorite CD wash over me. I drained the last dregs of my third glass of wine and shook my head cynically. Who would've ever believed I'd find myself drinking alone on Valentine's Day swept up in a morass of unresolved emotions over my failed relationship?
Truthfully, Valentine's Day had never ever been much of a big deal for me. Maybe I was just too much of a practical down-to-earth kind of girl. I'd always found it to be a day that typically raised all kinds of unrealistic expectations with the stores brimming with pink satin, red velvet hearts and love paraphernalia. And then of course, the biggest contradiction of all was the lingerie and chocolates! I mean, indulging in one meant steering well clear of the other.
Anyway, from my experience, most of the men I'd known hated buying that stuff, hated the pressure of having to make a big deal out of the day, hated having to play at being romantic over a delicately prepared dinner and being thoughtful on cue when they'd rather be eating a good steak, having a beer and getting down and dirty later. God, I sounded sour but I guess being alone on Valentine's Day after losing my lover two weeks back had probably brought an extra edge of bitterness to the whole hearts and candy affair.
I wiped the beginning of a tear away furiously. Enough was enough! No more pathetic whining and self pity. He was gone. The pain still cut like a sabre through me but it was over. I'd throw the shirts he'd left in the laundry basket out with the trash in the morning and move on with my life. Two weeks of grieving and moping about was enough, but I'd hoped the wine would help to bring some relief from the tension and angst I'd been feeling. It hadn't and I knew there was only one solution left. I needed to get off. An orgasm always relaxed me.
A fortnight without release was unusual for me but I'd not been in the mood. Every time the thought occurred to me, I'd be overwhelmed with the craving for his closeness, the warmth and heat as he slipped his hardness into me and the completion that always came with our coupling. He had walked away from what we had dammit, but I couldn't help still wanting him.
I headed for the bedroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror as I shrugged off my clothes. Despite my gloom I was still what would be considered pretty. Not exactly the type a model agency would sign up but my dark curly hair fell softly around my shoulders and when my eyes weren't red rimmed they were a deep green that sparkled when I laughed. I stripped off the blue jeans that clung to my long legs and mused at how lucky I was to still have a decent body given my tendency to occasionally binge on pizza and Chinese takeouts.
With my eyes closed, I lay on the bed and slowly began to stroke my breasts letting the tips of my fingertips tease the hardening nipples. Almost immediately dampness welled up in my pussy and I let my mind drift to a real nice place where I could believe that love and hope and passion were still there to reach for. Playing with my nipples was a sure fire way to get me aroused and I lowered my hand to the moistness between my thighs and stroked myself. Two fingers slid through the juice of my lust, parting the swollen pouty lips and dipped into the pooling wetness of my cunt.
In the background the phone rang and I plunged another finger inside myself. Whoever was calling could fucking wait, I was not letting go of this. Inside my pussy the three fingers stretching me were doing their work. I arched my back and thrust myself against my hand, imagining it was him. In the eye of my mind I could see his face just inches from mine, the fire in his eyes as he drove deeper and deeper into my pussy. A groan ripped from me as I recalled the way he panted with pleasure when my pussy clamped around him and he neared his moment, the smell of his musky maleness wetting my skin and the guttural sounds of his joy as he peaked.
God, I was almost there. Almost. Close. So close. The mountain of sensation grew, reaching for the peak that would burst in blissful joy. I panted as I felt my body shudder towards it. Sweat rolled down the cleavage of my breasts and the crack of my ass as I strained against my fingers that were relentlessly fucking the steaming cauldron between my thighs. The first rush of what would explode into ecstasy started somewhere in the pit of my belly and radiated out in hot waves pushing the breath from my body. I moaned and grunted rocking against my hand. My mind willed me on, frantic now on the edge of release.
The shrill sound of the phone echoed through the room shattering my concentration.
"Shit! Fuck!" I screamed in frustration as the peaking pleasure slipped from my grasp. "Oh God, nooo," I moaned as the muscles in my abdomen quivered with tension, still desperate for orgasm. It had always been so easy to come with him.
The ringing ceased and almost immediately started up again. I grabbed the phone off the bedside table.
"Yes, dammit!" My voice was muffled, still thick with desire.
"Christ, Lucy these are the most screwed up directions, you've ever given me," a strange male voice said. A note of irritation dripped from his tone, "I've been driving around for an hour and I still can't find your place. Care to-"
"Excuse me," I snapped, "There is no Lucy here. Never has been, never will be!" I was seething with annoyance and bordering on breathless rage. Whoever he was, he'd picked the wrong fucking minute to dial my number the first time he called and then he still had the gall to call again. I wanted to tell him his fucking fortune and then slam the phone down so loudly in his ear that it hurt. Asshole!
"Shit, I've got the wrong number, haven't I? She actually gave me the wrong number, I can't believe it!" I heard a loud thump and assumed he had slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. "Christ I should have known better than to get sucked in by her again. This is yet another one of her stupid mind games."
I swallowed my retort as I listened to him. Despite the cutting edge to his words, his voice was smooth and deep. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you," he said in a warm apologetic tone, "It sounded like I might have woken you."
I struggled to catch my breath. It was my turn to speak, to say something, to confirm that he had indeed dialed the wrong number and then to hang up, but inexplicably I didn't want to. The throbbing between my legs had intensified and my hand dipped into my pussy again. "It's okay, I wasn't sleeping," I said as I choked back a groan of pleasure.
"Yeah well I shouldn't have called anyway, even if it was her number," he said bitterly. "It was a stupid whim to have tried to see her, what with it being Valentine's Day and all."
I impaled myself on my fingers and let my thumb slide over my clit as he rattled on. God, his voice was so good, so masculine. I needed him to keep talking. I bit my lip to cover the purring sounds in my throat and shut my eyes to block out everything but his voice. The rich male baritone continued, "…anyway this has been a good wake up call for me. I should have read the signs a month ago when she left me saying that she needed space and moved in with a friend."
"A month ago huh?" I said my voice thick with arousal. "Too bad. Maybe she's with my boyfriend. He left two weeks ago."
"Hmmm, great month for relationships," he mused. "Like I said, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'm sure you've got more important things to do than listen to a stranger's sob story. Sounds like you have one of your own and I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it was you were doing."
I shifted on my bed trying to escape the pleas from my wetly stimulated body. It was time to hang up and finish what I had started, but there was this voice on the line that I somehow didn't want to let go. He was in much the same situation as I was; alone on Valentine's Day and still raw from the emotional aftermath of a broken relationship.
"Yeah," I said hoarsely, "I was thinking about him when you interrupted…" I couldn't believe I'd said it. It wasn't so much the words but the inference. He knew what I was talking about. I sensed he understood perfectly well what I'd been doing. The arousal in my voice must have been a dead giveaway. It was as loud and as clear as a cat's mating call.
He inhaled sharply, "Yeah, I know about those kinds of thoughts. I have them occasionally," he said softly. The loneliness and hunger screamed from his tone and struck a chord with me. At least we understood each other.
"I'm in Milner Drive, where are you now?" The words spilled from my lips as if they had a mind of their own.
"Kingsway Avenue. Why?" He'd asked the question, but I couldn't help but think it was rhetorical.
"That's two blocks away," I said huskily. "I'm in the third house from the corner if you want to stop by for coffee or something…" Jesus, what was I thinking; inviting a complete stranger into my home when coffee was the last thing on my mind. The throbbing heat between my legs had not cooled during our conversation. If anything the aching was more intense.
"I don't know," he answered drawing in an uneasy breath. "The way I'm feeling right now I probably won't be much of a conversationalist with a woman tonight. My intentions around seeing her this evening weren't exactly without selfish motive or even honorable…" He gave a wry laugh, "But I've got your number now, so maybe some other time?"
"I'm not feeling too talkative myself, so don't worry about that," I countered, dangling my offer in front of him like bait. "But if you change your mind it's number six Milner Drive. I thought we could… keep each other from thinking too much tonight."
"You're making it difficult for me to refuse." His voice had dropped to a low sexy drawl. "Yours wouldn't be the white house with the green roof and the bay windows, would it? I've just pulled up outside."
Reality set in quickly with his last words and I hung up the phone, grabbed my robe and rushed to the window. I tried to steady my breathing. This was total insanity; he could be anyone, dangerous even; a perverted sex fiend or a violent rapist. My mind raced even as I felt the first flicker of fear mingle with the liquid tide of hormones between my thighs. Shit, the way I was feeling right now, nobody would have to force me too much. But still, I wasn't the kind of woman who invited strange men over.
Dammit, was I really this desperate? Maybe he would go away. I didn't have to actually open the door and he'd get the hint and leave. At this point it could still just be a bad idea and not a serious regret. But my curiosity got the better of me. I inched the drapes aside and peered out at him standing on the curb next to his car in the dim light of the streetlamp. He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the house as if deciding whether he should venture up the driveway towards the front door.
From what I could see he was tall and well built without being overly muscular. His shoulders shifted in the loose leather jacket as he reached back into the car to retrieve something. From the distance I was, and the way he was positioned, I couldn't make out his features and even if I could, it wouldn't have made him less of a stranger. Maybe it was the wine I'd consumed. Perhaps it was just because I was so fucking tired of feeling miserable and alone. Maybe it was simply because it was Valentine's Day and there was supposed to be passion and excitement in the air, I don't know, but I acted completely out of character. A wave of recklessness washed over me as I walked straight to the front door and opened it just as he reached the doorstep.
Seeing him up close took my breath away. He was dark like a Brando biker with short well cut hair and a craggy face that pushed the word attractive to breaking point. His nose had been broken at least once and reset, but it was far from perfect and his grey eyes were big and inquisitive. They moved fast for their size, like a couple of quick boxers around a small ring. He looked like a tough guy and as if he ought to be dirty but I could see that he was scrupulously clean. Looking at a man's hands was something I always did, and his fingers and nails were immaculate.
"Hi," he said. "I'm Edward." He reached across and handed me a bunch of yellow roses. "Flowers by default," he grinned, showing good white teeth. "Hope you don't mind."
He didn't strike me as the flowers kind of guy, not even on Valentine's Day. But he'd said he had plans for Lucy or whatever her name was, tonight. Stupid girl, her loss was my gain!
"Thanks," I said reaching for the blooms and smiling. "I'm Rachel." I tried to keep my tone purposefully casual to deny what we both knew.
His eyes slid over me and I felt suddenly naked and exposed. The silky white robe I'd thrown on hardly covered me. It rested against the top of my thighs and was casually tied at the waist but I knew that my dark nipples were probably clearly visible to his eyes. I stood frozen there for a moment.
"I… I guess I didn't really think you'd show up," I stammered.
"Let's say I was curious. You have a sexy phone voice and when you invited me over, I thought I'd take a chance and see what was behind the voice."
"Disappointed?" I asked feeling self conscious and terribly aware of his masculine presence.
"Quite the opposite," he drawled as his eyes drilled into me. "But I can leave, if that's what you want." His mouth softened at the corners as he spoke but it was still hard as nails in the middle. Fuck, he was sexy and I felt the butterflies take off in my stomach. Leaving was the last thing I wanted him to do.
"No," I replied a little too quickly. "What I'd like, is for you to come inside."
"I'd love to come inside…" he said as he flashed me a knowing smile.
Jesus, talk about a bad choice of words! My face flushed and the heat raced through my stomach like it does after the first sips of whisky. The front door blew shut as we stepped into the house. I dropped the flowers on the table in the hallway and tried to steady my breathing, praying that my exhale would not come out as a shuddering moan of delicious anxiety. I was inches away from a stranger and my desire for him was inexplicable, something I couldn't begin to understand. He wanted me too, I was certain of that but there were manners, conventions, codes of conduct, things that were done and oh God, not done.
"I'll get the coffee going and change-" I said huskily trying for some semblance of sense and decorum. "Take a seat," I said gesturing to the living room, "I'll be right back."
"I'm not thirsty and what you're wearing is fine," His breath tickled my neck as he spoke and I shuddered in the muted light of the passage at the foot of the stairs He was following me. My heart hammered in my chest. I was afraid of what I wanted, and yet fearful that this frightening moment would pass.
My mouth was dry, but my heart was humming as the desire stewing between my legs threatened to overwhelm me. I tried to swallow but my saliva was gone. "Are you sure?" I croaked as I turned towards him flattening my back against the passage wall for safety and support.
There was sweat on his upper lip and moisture glistened in the chest hairs at the neck of his open shirt. I tried to lick at my lips as I waited for his answer, tried to smile at him as I anticipated his next move. But it was all too late. There were no manners left, no necessity for small talk. There was only naked need. Our hunger was frantic. His. Mine.
"Come here," he whispered, pulling me towards him. He wrapped his arms around me like rope as his lips closed hungrily on mine. I kissed him back, my mouth open and wet, slippery with lust as our tongues slid together. The stubble of his beard rasped against my skin and I groaned in excitement as his lips consumed me. I wrestled his leather jacket off and let it drop to the floor. His cock still confined in his tight jeans pressed against me and I jammed my pelvis against him as my robe hiked up to expose my dripping pussy. He lowered his hand to my wetness and slipped his fingers through the matted hair into my pulsing heat.
"Oh God," I moaned at the first delicious sensation of being touched. I drew my leg up to give him entry to my pussy and he fixed his eyes on me. They had taken on a faraway look but raw lust raged from them.
"Wait," he groaned, moving me past him and onto the stairway. He urged me down so that I was sitting on the step that was third from the bottom and my face was line with his cock. It threatened to burst from the crushing denim fabric that was tautly stretched across it. I wanted it so badly. My mouth was watering. I needed to take his heat into my mouth and taste him. But he was in control. He sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving mine and positioned himself so he could spread my thighs open and lean in to taste me. His tongue lingered teasingly at the entrance to my swollen pussy lips and a groan of anticipation ripped from my throat when he finally plunged into the wet velvetness of my pussy.
He was a complete stranger and yet now he owned my intimacy. The realization shocked and excited me. His tongue explored with tenderness and then with passion as it slid through the folds and up to my clit. He licked and sucked it and then dipped his tongue back into my slit, pressing, drawing back, probing, driving me insane with feverish desire, making me gasp and grab at his hair as I tried to impale his tongue deep inside my cunt. I wrapped my thighs around his head and lifted up my ass to give him deeper access. "Oh Fuck," I moaned as the sensations built. I could feel his tongue reaching deeper into me, his strong strokes exploring me. In, up higher then back to lap at my clit and all the way down my slit to the thin smooth strip that separated my pussy from my ass. For a second his tongue lingered and I knew instantly what was about to happen. He spread me wide open, and I lifted my butt off the step so that his tongue could slide between my buttocks. The thrill of indecent excitement shot through me as he pushed his tongue over the puckered ridge of my asshole and forced it inside. I screamed at the sensation and rocked against his tongue while I let my fingers slide over my clit. His movements speeded as he hungrily speared my ass.
"Oh fuck yess! Ooohh! " I cried lost in the exquisite sensations. It was so nasty but so delicious. A moan bubbled from his throat as he replaced his tongue in my ass with a thick finger and resumed his skilled lapping and sucking of my clit, licking at my wet fingers and sweeping down into my pussy. A tight ball of ecstasy rushed from his tongue in my pussy to the drumming finger inside my ass and I bucked and reared like an animal riding his face like a saddle until the quake of pleasure crashed into me and swamped me in a storm of pure joy.
"Argghhh! God! " I screamed as I gave myself over to orgasm. The muscles in my pussy and ass tightened and clenched around his marauding finger and tongue while juice spilled from me leaving its earthy animal scent lingering in the air above us. He moved his soaked face from between my thighs and unsteadily stood up leaning against the wall as he stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt.
"Thank you," I gasped, still breathless. "It's never been like that before." He smiled and extended his hand to help me up. I felt so deliciously weak and shaky but I was still filled with the awareness of his diamond hard cock inside his jeans. "If we make it to the top of the stairs, there's some unfinished business I want to attend to…"
By the time we reached the bedroom door, I had his jeans unbuttoned and my hand inside, reaching for him like a looter in a store, hurriedly grasping at the pulsing bulge so it wouldn't escape from me. His cock reared against my hand pulsing like a heart as I pulled it free of its confines, and God, was he gloriously thick. My fingers were scarcely able to close around him. The taut skin of his cock was smooth and burning wet with his own excitement. He brushed against my tummy impatiently and my heart speeded up. My body was humming like a wire in the wind. I desperately wanted him inside me.
"Do it," I groaned, "Fuck me, please."
A slow smile spread over his face as he reached around and held the cheek of my ass, drawing my right leg up over his thigh as he guided himself to my entrance. Juice dripped from me in anticipation of the invasion and I gasped as he rubbed his cock head over my swollen lips.
For a millisecond the horror of unsafe sex crossed my mind. In a few minutes his sperm would be free inside me with all its dangers and secrets and frantic irresponsibility, but inexplicably the thought did not make me recoil. I realized with horror that this was exactly what I wanted. I'd always been so cautious, so responsible and now just once, with a desperation that bordered on the insane, I wanted to experience the basest sex of all with this strange man in my house on Valentine's Day. I wanted to celebrate my lust and laugh in the face of lost love. I wanted to use the hugeness poling out of his jeans as a contraption for my pleasure and become a sex thing for him. For this night, I wanted to feel gloriously wantonly sexually alive.
My eyes must have screamed my thoughts because he bucked down and reared up invading me with a force that knocked the breath from my body. My feet flew off the floor and for a mind-bending second I hung there in space speared on his cock. One moment I was a void, achingly, agonizingly empty and then he was deep inside me stretching me, forcing my cunt to stretch open to take every rock hard inch of him.
"Ooohh," I gasped as he split me wide open and reached beneath my ass to take my weight. His biceps strained and his knees buckled but he held me in front of him pressing me against the wall. He lifted me an inch or two higher as he drew his glistening meat out of me then let me down again to sink all the way to the base of him. Stars burst in my head at the depth of the penetration and the way his big cock head rammed into my core. I felt like I was being wrenched apart. My legs curled around him and I crossed my ankles in the small of his back to steady myself. There were beads of sweat on his lip as he carried me, still connected to him, to the bed where it had all begun with that phone call.
He thrust forward into me collapsing his body down onto me. The air rushed from my lungs as I clamped around him locking him in the hot whirlpool of my pussy. I kept my legs tightly hugged around him and dug my nails into his back.
'Fuck me hard, please," I moaned hungry for the friction and roughness of his lust. "Show me how much you want me."
A guttural sound ripped from him as he drove back and forth fucking me in deep hard long strokes. "Jesus, you feel good," he rasped, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. His mouth found my nipple and he latched onto it causing ripples of pleasure to race up my spine and explode in my already overloaded brain.
I groaned and twisted, writhing under him as the familiar twitches of pleasure began to grow again. Our hips slammed together and I ground my pubic bone hard up against him moaning loudly as the rhythmic spasms deep inside me built slowly and tripped over each other in quick tight convulsions that threatened to strangle him in the noose of my pussy. I shrieked with the intensity of my orgasm as a dam erupted in me. On and on it went, my quivering walls clutching at him and squeezing his steely hardness with the molten warmth flowing from inside me.
"Damn baby," he screamed as his face contorted in a grimace of pure pleasure. "Fuck, oh fuck! God, I'm gonna come!" His hot breath fanned my face and his movements lost their coordination as his climax surged over mine. I felt his cock throb wildly as he spurted his release, spraying his cum in long ribbons deep inside me. My body rocked against his, wringing every drop of lust from him until he collapsed onto me. "Jesus," he gasped breathlessly as his fingers traced along the sides of my body, "What a wrong number this was."
I waited until our breathing had returned to normal and then eased myself out from under him. Satiated now, I was acutely aware again that he was a stranger.
"Should I make that coffee now, or maybe get you a drink…?" I said fumbling around for words.
He raised his head and fixed his eyes on me. "No, you don't have to do that. I don't want to make this any more awkward for you than it already is."
"Awkward?" I said, trying to play it cool. "I think we passed awkward at the bottom of the stairs."
He laughed and rolled towards me pulling me into his arms. I snuggled against his chest and inhaled his musky scent mingling with the aroma of our spent passion. "I guess, you're right," he replied. "But you were incredible and you saved me from being played for a fool tonight. There is something though that I am curious about," he said sitting up and gazing intently down at me.
"What's that?"
"If I called you again, would it be the right number?"
I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.
"Probably not," I said softly not meeting his eyes. "Pining and falling into someone's bed because of the end of one relationship isn't exactly the best way to start another one." It was time to move on with my life and I didn't think a casual night of mind blowing sex with a stranger on Valentine's Day qualified as the start of something new. "I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear."
'That's okay, no pressure," Edward said as he rolled off the bed. "I hope you find what you're looking for and that things work out for you." He buttoned up his jeans and reached for his shirt. "But if you change your mind and want to see me again, I can give you my number."
What was I supposed to say? Would he think I was a slut if I told him I'd got what I wanted from him? That I'd stepped out of myself for one crazy night, lost myself in wanton passion but that fundamentally I was cautious and responsible, hoping to meet Prince Charming in some acceptable and conventional way. I watched him dress. "Ok, now I do feel awkward," I said. "Are you simply trying to make me feel less guilty about tonight or do you really want me to call you?"
He shrugged as he buttoned up his shirt. "Would it matter if I did? It's your choice. Remember, I said no pressure." His lips curled in a half smile as he glanced passed me to the phone on the nightstand. "Serendipity, that's what they call it, don't they? Tonight was a fortunate accident, and who knows sweet Rachel, maybe we'll see each other around sometime." His grey eyes locked with mine, "Or maybe we won't. Let's leave it to chance. Stranger things have happened."
I waited until I heard the front door close and his car start up before I headed down to the kitchen. The yellow roses on the table in the hall caught my attention. Propped up against them was a small business card. I read it and softly mouthed his full name then dropped it a drawer with a stash of take out menus and pizza delivery numbers. They were all numbers I used when my cravings needed to be satisfied. I shut the drawer and laughed with the exhilaration of my new found liberation and freedom. Edward was totally delicious, definitely better than chocolates could ever have been on Valentine's Day and it couldn't hurt to keep his number. After all, there were times when I might need a hot and fast delivery on demand.
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Army eyes pop star Sarah Geronimo as peace endorser
MANILA, Philippines—Move over Manny Pacquiao. The country's Pop Princess Sarah Geronimo could just be the next poster child of the Philippine Army.
The Philippine Daily Inquirer learned that the Army has been thinking of commissioning Geronimo into the military's reserve force after her support for the Armed Forces of the Philippines campaign to win the peace.
Geronimo, 24, sang the Army's "Bayanihan: Para sa Kapayapaan" theme song, complete with a music video that was launched on Wednesday at the Army headquarters.
The AFP was able to save P10 million from the total cost of the music video production after Geronimo waived her multi-million-peso talent fee upon learning that the project was for the government's peace advocacy.
"She waived her talent fee and there were no questions asked. She said this will serve as the contribution of the entertainment industry in promoting peace," Undersecretary Lesley Jeanne Cordero of the Presidential Communications Operations Office (PCCO) said in a press conference at the Army headquarters.
However, Geronimo and her manager, VIVA Entertainment big boss, Vic del Rosario, were both unable to attend the music video's launch because of their tight schedules.
Geronimo so impressed the AFP leadership with her humility and sincerity that a military official told the Inquirer that the pop star might be asked to join the Armed Forces as a reserve officer.
"We'll wait for her to finish her college degree so that she could be commissioned as an officer," the military official said, on condition of anonymity, as he was not authorized to discuss the idea.
Pacquiao, a district representative of Saranggani Province, was commissioned into the Army first as a sergeant until he became a Lieutenant Colonel for bringing pride to the Philippines for his feat as a boxing champion.
Army spokesperson, Maj. Harold Cabunoc, said that Geronimo was tapped to sing the AFP's peace theme song because of her reach to the youth sector.
Cabunoc said that through the "Bayanihan" song, the military wanted to raised public awareness and send the message that "winning the peace is a shared responsibility among various stakeholders," which include the youth sector.
An Army statement said that the "Bayanihan" song was composed and originally performed by LTJG Lady Chatterly Alvaro-Sumbeling, a younger sister of singer DJ Alvaro.
The Army also said that there would be a simultaneous launching of the "Bayanihan" music video in all television and radio stations nationwide, as well as on the Internet, social media sites, and in selected movie houses.
The production and release of the music video was done in collaboration with various government agencies and Viva Entertainment, Inc.
Subscribe to INQUIRER PLUS to get access to The Philippine Daily Inquirer & other 70+ titles, share up to 5 gadgets, listen to the news, download as early as 4am & share articles on social media. Call 896 6000.


text: Eastleigh neighbourhood in Nairobi has been wracked with tension following a wave of attacks [Reuters]Nairobi, Kenya - The shopping malls and market stands of a Somali-dominated suburb in eastern Nairobi have been quieter than usual.Taxi drivers in Eastleigh, a lucrative trade hub known locally as "Little Mogadishu", say business is drying up as Somalis leave Kenya to return home.Somali refugees say they are harassed by Kenyan police, and wrongfully blamed for a wave of attacks that have shaken Kenya in recent months."People here are scared," says Jayhan Mohamed, a refugee in Eastleigh who fled a forced marriage and daily gunfights in the war-ravaged Somali capital, Mogadishu, with her baby son four years ago. "Somalis are attacked in their shops and homes. Police are going into houses, demanding money. Some people have been forced to sell their jewellery just to buy their way out of the police station."Many are running away from Kenya, going back home to a country without security rather than stay here."The United Nation's refugee agency, UNHCR, says the 13 weekly flights from Nairobi to Mogadishu are packed with returning Somalis. According to Dr Ibrahim Farah, a Somali lecturer at Nairobi University, 6,000 Somali families have left Kenya since the country announced a clampdown on refugees and asylum seekers at the end of last year. Half a million refugeesEast Africa's biggest economy is home to some half a million registered Somali refugees, although aid agencies believe that the real number is much higher.About 450,000 live in the sprawling, overcrowded and sun-baked camps at Dadaab, close to the Somali border.Kenya has suffered a wave of kidnappings, grenade and gun attacks in Dadaab, Eastleigh and Garissa, ever since Kenyan forces launched an offensive against hard-line armed group al-Shabab in south Somalia at the end of 2011. "You can't castigate an entire community. You can't blame all Somali refugees for the attacks." - LeilaWaithira, lawyer In Garissa, a Kenyan town close to the Somali border, gunmen have opened fire on worshippers in churches. Grenades are regularly flung at mosques and mini-buses in Eastleigh, splattering walls and windows with victims' blood.Kenyan police and soldiers have also been targeted and killed. In December, a hand-grenade raid claimed five lives and injured Yusuf Hassan, an ethnic Somali politician.In a statement, Kenyan refugee officials warned of "rampant insecurity" and an "unbearable and uncontrollable threat" that must be contained. Kenyan security forces blame attacks on sympathisers of al-Shabab, a group with known links to al-Qaeda and ambitions to rule Somalia.Kenyan officials plan to round-up 34,000 Somali refugees and asylum seekers in Eastleigh and other urban areas, and hold them in a football stadium north of Nairobi.Somali refugees will then be sent to Dadaab, one of the world's biggest refugee centres, which is known for its insecurity, mosquitoes and desert scorpions."Some of these people have lived in Kenya for two decades," added Mohamed, 20. "They speak good Swahili and English, have children at school, own businesses, homes and study at universities." Police harassment Human Rights Watch and other agencies accuse Kenyan officials of "stigmatisation", and have documented 300 cases of police harassing Somali refugees last year alone. Daadab refugee camp is known for its difficult conditions [AFP] Farah Maalim, an ethnic Somali politician in Kenya, says "Eastleigh has become an ATM" for police officers wanting to make quick cash.The Refugee Consortium of Kenya, a group that is challenging the government's refugee round-up in Kenya's courts, says the government is violating the Kenyan constitution and international conventions on refugees. The next hearing is set for February 4."You can't castigate an entire community. You can't blame all Somali refugees for the attacks," said Leila Waithira, a lawyer for the consortium. "If members of a community are responsible, then the security services should deal with those individuals."Human Rights Watch has also said that there is little evidence to connect the bombings and shootings with Somali refugees. Many victims of attacks have been ethnic Somalis, and those arrested include Yemenis and members of Kenya's ethnic Somali population.While there are a number of theories about who's behind the attacks, the most common explanation is that al-Shabab fighters and sympathisers are retaliating for Kenya's ongoing presence in southern Somalia.Another is that al-Qaeda agents are trying to drive a wedge between Kenya's ethnic and religious groups, or that Somali inter-clan feuds are spilling over. For their part, many Somali refugees accuse Kenyan security agents of carrying out attacks to spur an anti-Somali backlash. Refugee roundup While UNHCR has praised Kenya for hosting such a large number of refugees, who have fled conflict and instability in Somalia and other African hotspots, many Kenyans see the refugees as a problem. In November, rioters attacked ethnic Somalis in Eastleigh after a bomb attack that killed nine people. Wasia Masitsa, a migration expert for the legal rights group Kituo Cha Sheria, said the refugee roundup is popular among Kenyans."It is taking place under a highly charged xenophobic environment and a feeling that Somalis are responsible for the insecurity," he told Al Jazeera.The policy is likely to appeal to voters ahead of presidential elections scheduled to take place on March 4, he said. "These security concerns mean they're undertaking a relocation that is illegal, won't solve the problem, will alienate refugees and rights activists." - Dr Ibrahim Farah, university lecturer "There is a feeling that Somalis are slowly colonising the country," he added. "That they are buying up businesses, land and buildings and competing for jobs. That they are minority that is becoming a force to be reckoned with."Eastleigh has long been an economic hub for Nairobi and a popular place to buy flashy clothes, electronics and exotic food.Its success is a testament to the entrepreneurial zeal of Somalis, who are famed for turning a profit in adversity.Eastleigh's shopping malls make about $7m a year, according to a 2011 study by the UK think tank Chatham House, while Somali-owned trucking firms in Kenya make $20m annually. Damaged economyThe crackdown and harassment of Somalis in Eastleigh has already damaged an economy that is worth "billions of dollars" to Kenya, said Farah, the lecturer at Nairobi University."Kenya's government is going overboard," he said. "These security concerns mean they're undertaking a relocation that is illegal, won't solve the problem, will alienate refugees and rights activists. And they're going to lose money."Recent military gains and a new government across the border in Somalia have raised hopes of peace and economic growth after two decades of conflict.In December, Kenyan president Mwai Kibaki said he was working with officials in Mogadishu to "enable the hundreds of thousands of Somalis who are living in refugee camps to return" home.Dr Farah said the plan to relocate Eastleigh's Somali population is one part of a bigger transition that will change the face of the region."It's just a temporary issue in a longer, drawn-out resolution, which will involve greater peace and stability in Somalia and the gradual relocation of some half million refugees back to their homeland," he said. Follow James Reinl on Twitter: @jamesreinl SOURCE: Al Jazeera ABOUT THE AUTHOR James ReinlJames Reinl is a journalist and world affairs analyst who has reported from more than 30 countries and won awards for covering Haiti's earthquake, Sri Lanka's civil war and human rights abuses in Iran. Kenya Somalia United Kingdom


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JAWS rare HUGE UK QUAD poster signed by Richard Dreyfuss!
An incredible (Huge 40" x 30 " !!!) poster for the movie JAWS , signed by Richard Dreyfuss in Malvern, UK.
A real one of a kind !
This poster was signed IN PERSON BY RICHARD DREYFUSS at a play Malvern called "The Prisoner of Second Avenue".
In fact, it was a bit of a bad experience because he was not particularly happy with people standing by the stage door ( half a dozen people were waiting for him before the play started).
Dreyfuss came up to the stage door with his hand held up saying "no photos, no photos!". He signed a couple of programmes for people - really quick.
The collector blocked his way by standing in front of the stage door and said "Mr.Dreyfuss would you sign my original Jaws poster for me , please?".
He looked at the collector and sighed loudly. Then he took his pen and carefully signed the top right hand corner with a neat excellent signature.
He then rushed into the theatre. Very lucky to have obtained this.
This is a genuine in-person signature with provenance.
No pin holes, rips or tears. Good condition with the usual folds. (Came with a stunning JAWS 2 Quad poster from same collector - included)
Signed by:
Richard Dreyfuss - Hooper
Comes with our own Devon Autographs COA, and Lifetime Authenticity Guarantee.
Devon Autographs [ UACC Registered Dealer #RD336 ]


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The senior forward dominated at Bel Air's Bobcat Cup on Saturday, leading No. 2 Mercy (5-1) to the tournament title. In the tournament opener, a 5-1 win over then-No. 14 Perry Hall, Prior-Brown accounted for three goals and one assist. In the final against Class 3A state runner-up Huntingtown, she scored two goals — including the game-winner and added an assist in a 3-1 victory. Earlier in the week, she had two goals and assist playing in the first half of a 6-0 win against Institute of Notre Dame. For the season, the Magic co-captain has 12 goals and nine assists despite constant double-teams. The four-year starter scored 21 goals and 10 assists last season to earn first-team All-Metro honors. Prior-Brown has committed to play at Maryland next fall.
Others considered: Holly Cook, John Carroll, cross country; Taylor Gant, Howard, soccer; Maddie Hedrick, Patterson Mill, field hockey; Tori Luc, Chesapeake-AA, soccer; Hannah Oneda, Winters Mill, cross country; Alex Wetherholt, Southern, soccer; Kailey Wolfe, Century, field hockey.


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Charm School Extra Credit: How to Tie a Bow Tie
29/10/2012 § 2 Comments
Editor's note: Even though February's Charm School has come and gone, a bit of Extra Credit is just the thing to get us through the other 11 months of the year, no?
The Corsillo Brothers, the lovely Brooklyn-based duo behind The Hill-Side and Hickoree's, have created an elegant — stop motion! — film to teach you how to tie a bow tie, which makes an excellent hidden talent for anyone's toolkit. Closely related to a previous Charm School lesson (see: Tie a Tie), this would definitely be taking it to the next level. Granted, learning to tie a bow tie takes patience and practice, but without any hands getting in the way of this tutorial, you'll be on your way in no time.
Personally, I can't wait to break out my holiday bow tie.
Do you have any plans to wear one?
And if you like the indigo chambray tie featured above, you can find it here.


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MIDLAND - Jane Elizabeth Dammier, 92, of Midland passed away on Tuesday, August 21, 2012, at Midland Memorial Hospital.
Funeral services will be held at 9 a.m. on Saturday, August 25, 2012, at First Baptist Church in Midland with Dr. Randel Everett officiating. Graveside services will be at 4 p.m. Saturday, August 25, 2012, in Llano Cemetery in Amarillo with the First Baptist Church in Amarillo Associate Pastor Corky Holland officiating.
She was born on March 31, 1920, to Frank and Georgia Daily in Ashland, Kansas. Jane graduated with her bachelor's degree from Kansas State University. She married the love of her life, Charles D. Dammier, on
May 31, 1947, in Ashland, Kansas. Jane was a wonderful wife, mother, and grandmother. She enjoyed making her home a place where everyone wanted to be. Jane was a renowned quilter. She was a hospital volunteer for over 20 years. She enjoyed getting to play bridge with her friends and being in the Myrtle Class at First Baptist Church in Midland.
Survivors include her daughter, Shannon Crow of Pflugerville; daughter, Charlene and husband, Mike Worst, of Arlington; daughter, Marilyn Kapral of Dallas; daughter, Kristal and husband, Randall Cotton, of
Midland; 6 grandsons, Christopher Crow of Georgetown, Clint Crow of Pattison, Brent Worst of Arlington, Jonathan Cotton of Midland, Christian Cotton of Midland, and Robert Cotton of Baton Rouge; 3 great granddaughters, Hannah Marie Crow of Georgetown, Lauren Christine Crow of Georgetown, and Melania Marie Crow of Pattison.
She was preceded in death by her husband, Charles Dammier, and her parents.
In lieu of flowers, the family suggests memorials be made to American Diabetes Association, P.O. Box 1132, Fairfax, VA 22038; or National Parkinson Foundation Gift Processing Center, P.O. Box 5018, Hagerstown, MD 21741-5018.
Arrangements are under the direction of Nalley-Pickle & Welch Funeral Home &
Crematory of Midland. Online condolences can be made at www.npwelch.com.
Amarillo Globe-News, Aug. 23, 2012


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!! History Commons Alert, Exciting News
This is a scalable context timeline. It contains events related to the event (9:38 a.m.) September 11, 2001: Reagan Airport Controllers Alert Others to Pentagon Crash. You can narrow or broaden the context of this timeline by adjusting the zoom level. The lower the scale, the more relevant the items on average will be, while the higher the scale, the less relevant the items, on average, will be.
According to an FAA report, between 9:25 a.m. and 9:30 a.m., air traffic controllers at the Terminal Radar Approach Control (TRACON) at Washington Dulles International Airport notice an unidentified blip, later identified to be Flight 77, on their radar screens. This is several minutes earlier than the 9/11 Commission will claim they notice it. [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ; 9/11 Commission, 7/24/2004, pp. 9] Plane Flying East at High Speed - The TRACON at Dulles Airport, which is about 22 miles west of the Pentagon, learned several minutes earlier that the FAA had lost contact with Flight 77. It then advised its controllers to look out for "primary targets" (see 9:21 a.m. September 11, 2001). [USA Today, 9/13/2001; Navy Times, 9/22/2001; 9/11 Commission, 8/26/2004, pp. 32] These are radar tracks that can still be viewed when a plane's transponder has been turned off. [Salon, 9/10/2004] Several of the facility's controllers now observe a primary radar target heading eastbound toward Washington at high speed, almost 500 miles per hour. Although the aircraft has no transponder signal to identify it, it is later determined to be Flight 77. [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ; USA Today, 8/12/2002] Conflicting Times - According to the 9/11 Commission Report, the Dulles TRACON controllers only notice this aircraft at 9:32 a.m. (see 9:32 a.m. September 11, 2001). [9/11 Commission, 7/24/2004, pp. 9] The FAA report, which is published less than a week after 9/11, will state that its time of between 9:25 and 9:30 is "approximate, based on personnel statements from Dulles Terminal Radar Approach Control." [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ] But this earlier time will receive some corroboration from a report in USA Today, which states that the FAA's Command Center is notified by a Dulles controller of the unidentified aircraft at "just before 9:30 a.m." [USA Today, 8/12/2002] Furthermore, Transportation Secretary Norman Mineta, who is currently at the White House, will tell the 9/11 Commission that at "about 9:25 or 9:26" he overhears someone warning Vice President Dick Cheney of an aircraft approaching Washington (see (9:26 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [9/11 Commission, 5/23/2003] Radar evidence obtained by CBS News will show that "at 9:30 a.m.… radar tracked the plane as it closed to within 30 miles of Washington." [CBS News, 9/21/2001]
Entity Tags: Washington Dulles International Airport, Federal Aviation Administration
Timeline Tags: Complete 911 Timeline, 9/11 Timeline
FAA Administrator Jane Garvey.
[Source: FAA]Time magazine later reports that Jane Garvey, head of the FAA, "almost certainly after getting an okay from the White House, initiate[s] a national ground stop, which forbids takeoffs and requires planes in the air to get down as soon as is reasonable. The order, which has never been implemented since flying was invented in 1903, applie[s] to virtually every single kind of machine that can takeoff—civilian, military, or law enforcement." Military and law enforcement flights are allowed to resume at 10:31 a.m. (see 10:31 a.m. September 11, 2001) A limited number of military flights—the FAA will not reveal details—are allowed to fly during this ban. [Time, 9/14/2001] Garvey later calls it "a national ground stop… that prevented any aircraft from taking off."
[US Congress. House. Committee On Transportation And Infrastructure, 9/21/2001] Transportation Secretary Norman Mineta later says he was the one to give the order: "As soon as I was aware of the nature and scale of the attack, I called from the White House to order the air traffic system to land all aircraft, immediately and without exception."
[US Congress. Senate. Committee on Commerce, Science and Transportation, 9/20/2001] According to Mineta, "At approximately 9:45… I gave the FAA the final order for all civil aircraft to land at the nearest airport as soon as possible."
[9/11 Commission, 5/23/2003] At the time, 4,452 planes are flying in the continental US. A later account states that Ben Sliney, the FAA's National Operations Manager, makes the decision without consulting his superiors, like Jane Garvey, first. It would be remarkable if Sliney was the one to make the decision, because 9/11 is Sliney's first day on the job as National Operations Manager, "the chess master of the air traffic system."
[USA Today, 8/12/2002] When he accepted the job a couple of months earlier, he had asked, "What is the limit of my authority?" The man who had promoted him replied, "Unlimited."
[USA Today, 8/13/2002] Yet another account, by Linda Schuessler, manager of tactical operations at the FAA Command Center where Sliney was located, says, "… it was done collaboratively… All these decisions were corporate decisions. It wasn't one person who said, 'Yes, this has got to get done.'"
[Aviation Week and Space Technology, 12/17/2001] About 500 planes land in the next 20 minutes, and then much more urgent orders to land are issued at 9:45 a.m. (see (9:45 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [Time, 9/14/2001; US Congress. House. Committee On Transportation And Infrastructure, 9/21/2001; Newsday, 9/23/2001; Aviation Week and Space Technology, 6/3/2002; USA Today, 8/12/2002; USA Today, 8/12/2002; Associated Press, 8/21/2002; Newsday, 9/10/2002]
Entity Tags: Jane Garvey, Ben Sliney, Norman Mineta, Federal Aviation Administration, Linda Schuessler
Chris Stephenson, head flight controller at Washington's Reagan National Airport tower, says that he is called by the Secret Service around this time. He is told an unidentified aircraft is speeding toward Washington. Stephenson looks at the radarscope and sees Flight 77 about five miles to the west. He looks out the tower window and sees the plane turning to the right and descending. He follows it until it disappears behind a building in nearby Crystal City, Virginia. [USA Today, 8/11/2002] However, according to another account, just before 9:30 a.m., a controller in the same tower has an unidentified plane on radar, "heading toward Washington and without a transponder signal to identify it. It's flying fast, she says: almost 500 mph. And it's heading straight for the heart of the city. Could it be American Flight 77? The FAA warns the Secret Service."
[USA Today, 8/12/2002] In short, it is unclear whether the Secret Service warns the FAA, or vice versa.
Entity Tags: Chris Stephenson, Federal Aviation Administration, US Secret Service
A group from FAA headquarters, who are apparently oblivious to the morning's crisis, request and are given a tour of the air traffic control tower at Washington's Reagan National Airport, until they are forced to leave there just before the time of the Pentagon attack. [Spencer, 2008, pp. 157-158] Reagan Airport is located less than a mile from the Pentagon. [St. Petersburg Times, 10/3/2001] Tour Group Wants to See Tower - At 9:32, the tower supervisor, Chris Stephenson, receives a phone call from one of the airport's maintenance workers. The maintenance worker says he has a group there from the FAA's Washington headquarters that is visiting the airport to go over some maintenance issues, but they are also curious to see what goes on in the control tower. It appears the FAA personnel are unaware of the attacks in New York, and Stephenson is asked if it is okay to bring them up. Though he is busy dealing with the chaos resulting from the ground stop recently ordered by the FAA's Command Center (see (9:26 a.m.) September 11, 2001), Stephenson reluctantly agrees. The group arrives moments later, but Stephenson tries to ignore them. According to author Lynn Spencer, Stephenson is as yet unaware that an errant aircraft has been spotted heading toward Washington (see (9:33 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [Spencer, 2008, pp. 157] But according to USA Today, the Secret Service warned him about this aircraft at around 9:30 a.m. (see (9:30 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [USA Today, 8/11/2002] Group Ordered to Leave - Shortly after the group arrives, Stephenson is called by a controller at the TRACON and notified of the unidentified aircraft (presumably Flight 77), which is five miles west of the tower (see (9:36 a.m.) September 11, 2001). When he looks out the window, he sees it, now less than a mile away and approaching fast. Stephenson yells at the tour group: "Out! Get out!" The FAA group heads off down the stairs, but the last in the line looks out the window at the descending aircraft and asks, "What's that guy doing?" "Get out!" Stephenson repeats, and pushes the man into the stairwell. Soon afterwards, the Pentagon is hit (see 9:37 a.m. September 11, 2001). [Spencer, 2008, pp. 158]
Entity Tags: Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Chris Stephenson, Federal Aviation Administration
Reagan National Airport. [Source: Metropolitan Washington Airports Authority]Air traffic controllers at Washington's Reagan National Airport are contacted by controllers at Washington Dulles International Airport, and informed of a fast-moving unidentified aircraft, later determined to be Flight 77, which is approaching the restricted airspace around the White House. [Washington Post, 9/11/2001; Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ; 9/11 Commission, 6/4/2003 ; 9/11 Commission, 8/26/2004, pp. 33] Reagan Airport is less than a mile from the Pentagon and only a few miles from the White House. [St. Petersburg Times, 9/19/2001] During a shift, it has 10 or 11 controllers working in its Terminal Radar Approach Control (TRACON) and seven or eight controllers working in its air traffic control tower. [9/11 Commission, 7/28/2003 ] Controllers at the Dulles TRACON have recently noticed the unidentified aircraft on their radar screens (see (Between 9:25 a.m. and 9:30 a.m.) September 11, 2001 and 9:32 a.m. September 11, 2001). [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ; 9/11 Commission, 7/24/2004, pp. 9] TRACON Told of Aircraft - A Dulles Airport controller now calls the TRACON at Reagan Airport, and says: "Hey! Untracked target 15 [miles] west of you. Primary target eastbound! Heading toward P-56!" [Spencer, 2008, pp. 145-146] (P-56, or Prohibited Area 56, is the restricted airspace above and near the White House. [Department of Transportation, 8/4/2005] ) Reagan Airport controller Dan Creedon checks his radar screen and sees the aircraft's target about 10 miles west of the White House. The radar track is untagged, so he attaches a data box to it with the word "LOOK" in it. This will allow other controllers to quickly spot the aircraft. It also causes its ground speed to appear on the screen. According to author Lynn Spencer, the aircraft is shown to be flying at 290 miles per hour. [Spencer, 2008, pp. 146] But other accounts will claim it is flying at between 400 and 500 mph as it approaches Washington. [CBS News, 9/21/2001; ABC News, 10/24/2001; USA Today, 8/12/2002; 9/11 Commission, 7/28/2003 ] Creedon then calls out to Victor Padgett, the operations supervisor in the TRACON, and tells him about the aircraft heading their way. [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/14/2001; Spencer, 2008, pp. 146] Controllers Notify Others - After the Reagan Airport controllers learn of the approaching aircraft, they promptly contact other agencies about it. Padgett calls the Secret Service (see (9:33 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/14/2001; Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ] And another controller will issue traffic advisories on the aircraft to a C-130 military cargo plane that is flying in the area, and then instruct the C-130 to identify and follow the aircraft (see 9.36 a.m. September 11, 2001). [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/17/2001 ; New York Times, 10/16/2001; 9/11 Commission, 8/26/2004, pp. 33; Spencer, 2008, pp. 146-147] A controller in the TRACON will also call the Reagan Airport control tower, and alert it to the approaching aircraft (see (9:36 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [Spencer, 2008, pp. 158]
Entity Tags: Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Victor Padgett, Dan Creedon, Washington Dulles International Airport
An air traffic controller in the tower at Reagan National Airport. [Source: Rob Ballenger / NPR]An air traffic controller in the Terminal Radar Approach Control (TRACON) at Washington's Reagan National Airport calls the airport's control tower and alerts it to an unidentified aircraft that is approaching and heading in the direction of the White House. [Spencer, 2008, pp. 145-146, 158] The TRACON was recently contacted by controllers at Washington Dulles International Airport and notified of this aircraft, which is later determined to be Flight 77 (see (9:33 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [Washington Post, 9/11/2001; 9/11 Commission, 8/26/2004, pp. 33] TRACON controllers have watched it on radar as it traveled almost 10 miles south of the airport, and then turned back toward Washington. TRACON Calls Tower - A controller in the TRACON now phones Chris Stephenson, the supervisor in the Reagan Airport control tower, and says to him, "See in the sky, five miles west of you?" Stephenson thinks he has identified the target the controller is referring to on his radar screen, but it is the wrong one. The controller clarifies: "No! The 'LOOK' tag! See the 'LOOK' tag? It's a 757! Do you see anything out there?" Stephenson then looks out of the window and can see the plane, now less than a mile away, coming in fast. [Spencer, 2008, pp. 158] He sees it turning to the right and descending. [USA Today, 8/11/2002] A tour group from FAA headquarters is currently looking around the tower, and Stephenson promptly orders its members to "get out" of there (see (9:32 a.m.-9:37 a.m.) September 11, 2001). Time of First Notification Unclear - According to author Lynn Spencer, Stephenson was unaware of the approaching aircraft prior to this call from the TRACON. [Spencer, 2008, pp. 157-158] But USA Today will claim he received a call at "[a]bout 9:30" from the Secret Service, telling him an unidentified aircraft was speeding toward Washington (9:30 a.m.) September 11, 2001). [USA Today, 8/11/2002] Furthermore, after the Reagan TRACON was alerted to the aircraft, departure controller Dan Creedon quickly attached a data box to its radar track with the word "LOOK" in it, which would allow other controllers—including those in the control tower—to quickly spot it and track it on their screens. Why Stephenson had not noticed this is unclear. [9/11 Commission, 7/28/2003 ; Spencer, 2008, pp. 145-146]
Entity Tags: Chris Stephenson, Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport
The Pentagon explodes.
[Source: Donley/ Sipa]Flight 77 crashes into the Pentagon. All 64 people on the plane are killed. A hundred-and-twenty-four people working in the building are killed, and a further victim will die in hospital several days later. Hijackers Hani Hanjour, Khalid Almihdhar, Majed Moqed, Nawaf Alhazmi, and Salem Alhazmi presumably are killed instantly. (Typically, they are not included in the death counts.) [CNN, 9/17/2001; North American Aerospace Defense Command, 9/18/2001; Guardian, 10/17/2001; Washington Post, 11/21/2001; USA Today, 8/12/2002; Associated Press, 8/21/2002; MSNBC, 9/3/2002; ABC News, 9/11/2002; CBS, 9/11/2002] Flight 77 hits the first floor of the Pentagon's west wall. The impact and the resulting explosion heavily damage the building's three outer rings. The path of destruction cuts through Army accounting offices on the outer E Ring, the Navy Command Center on the D Ring, and the Defense Intelligence Agency's comptroller's office on the C Ring. [Vogel, 2007, pp. 431 and 449] Flight 77 strikes the only side of the Pentagon that had recently been renovated—it was "within days of being totally [renovated]." [US Department of Defense, 9/15/2001] "It was the only area of the Pentagon with a sprinkler system, and it had been reconstructed with a web of steel columns and bars to withstand bomb blasts. The area struck by the plane also had blast-resistant windows—two inches thick and 2,500 pounds each—that stayed intact during the crash and fire. While perhaps, 4,500 people normally would have been working in the hardest-hit areas, because of the renovation work only about 800 were there." More than 25,000 people work at the Pentagon. [Los Angeles Times, 9/16/2001] Furthermore, the plane hits an area that has no basement. As journalist Steve Vogel later points out, "If there had been one under the first floor, its occupants could easily have been trapped by fire and killed when the upper floors collapsed." [Vogel, 2007, pp. 450]
Entity Tags: Hani Hanjour, Khalid Almihdhar, Nawaf Alhazmi, US Department of Defense, Salem Alhazmi, Majed Moqed, Pentagon
After seeing the explosion from the attack on the Pentagon, air traffic controllers at Washington's Reagan National Airport promptly alert others to the crash, with a supervisor reporting that the crashed aircraft was an American Airlines 757. [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/18/2001; Spencer, 2008, pp. 158-159] Reagan Airport is less than a mile from the Pentagon. [St. Petersburg Times, 9/19/2001] In its control tower, supervisor Chris Stephenson had looked out the window and seen Flight 77 approaching (see (9:36 a.m.) September 11, 2001). He watched it flying a full circle and disappearing behind a building in nearby Crystal City, before crashing into the Pentagon. Stephenson sees the resulting fireball and a mass of paper debris that fills the air. He calls the airport's Terminal Radar Approach Control (TRACON) and reports: "It was an American 757! It hit the Pentagon. It was a 757 and it hit the Pentagon. American!" [USA Today, 8/11/2002; Spencer, 2008, pp. 158-159] Other controllers see the fireball from the crash. One of them, David Walsh, activates the crash phone, which instantly connects the control tower to airport operations, as well as fire and police departments. He yells down the line: "Aircraft down at the Pentagon! Aircraft down at the Pentagon!" [Federal Aviation Administration, 9/18/2001; McDonnell, 2004, pp. 19-20 ; Spencer, 2008, pp. 158-159] Reagan Airport controllers contact controllers at Washington Dulles International Airport, who hear over the speakers in their room: "Dulles, hold all of our inbound traffic. The Pentagon's been hit." [ABC News, 10/24/2001]
Entity Tags: David Walsh, Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, Chris Stephenson, Washington Dulles International Airport
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text:
Doug Robinson is Coming to BKB!
Oct 06, 2014
You may recognize Doug Robinson from either:
a.) the best-selling instructional video of 1988, Moving Over Stone
b.) as the founder of the American Mountain Guides Association
c.) as a persona from the recent film Valley Uprising
d.) the writer of the new book The Alchemy of Action
e.) all of the above.
The answer (if it weren't obvious already) is – duh, all of the above. And now on this Wednesday at 8pm, you can meet this rock climbing legend in the flesh at Brooklyn Boulders! He'll be giving a presentation on his latest book, which explores the euphoric high climbers get when sending routes.
We chat with Doug and get a little insight on the Valley Uprising film and his take on how the climbing world is evolving and growing.
Any behind the scenes secrets of Valley Uprising? Or rather, what is your take on the film? Is it an accurate portrayal of the time?
Valley Uprising was in production for over four years. It's the first feature-length piece from Sender Films, and they pulled off a good one! Impossible, of course, to squeeze the entire history of Yosemite climbing into an hour and a half. Even shortening that down to the last sixty years they necessarily skipped big chunks. Peter Croft, for instance, who stunned the climbing world by soloing Astroman, got barely an afterthought mention. They made up for being necessarily selective by very entertaining storytelling. Playing up, for instance, the Harding-Robbins feud as a driving force of the Golden Age Sixties. Accurate? Yes. And dramatized for effect? Sure. Then they animate a tab of blotter acid on Jim Bridwell's tongue, leading to his eyes spinning psychedelically, to segue into the Stonemaster era. Emblematically perfect.
But you asked for a glimpse behind the scenes. They interviewed me two years ago for a couple of hours, which led to 3-4 snippets of a few seconds each in the film. That gives a sense of how much work is behind the finished product. They also digitized my 1988 video Moving Over Stone and then didn't use one scene from it. So the research behind it was massive, and the writing that pared it down to a manageable length had to be incisive. I don't even want to think about the years of bleary, late-night sessions that took. The result is incredible! A fitting testament to one of the leading climbing areas on the planet. Its influence will project many years into the future.
It is an amazing film. Do you think the concept of "clean climbing" has impacted how many people free solo climb?
Free soloing is an intense and very personal engagement with the wilder sides of nature. Always with an awareness of the consequences of self-sufficiency. Clean climbing could be viewed as a nudge in that direction, toward finessing your safety on steep rock instead of forcing protection by blows with a heavy hammer. But long before that point in our lives, every kid feels the challenge of scrambling upward toward a high point on the horizon.
Definitely. Can you summarize in one word what the psychedelic high from climbing feels like?
Seems similar to a yoga flow! Is it possible for each and every climber to achieve that mind state?
People are different. More so inside our heads than even the obvious physical differences. That includes how readily we can slip into a visionary state of awareness. Saints and prophets, some of them, have been blessed with a low threshold of profound awareness. Others among us run themselves ragged and swear they never got even a runner's high. I think some of the problem is tuning in to relatively subtle changes. Do you step out of the shower after a workout feeling a tingling sensation of extra aliveness? That's a good start. Notice how different that is from, say, barely dragging yourself into the gym an hour before. Now, emotionally, do you maybe feel a little more open to what's around you? A notch more magnanimous? Those are real changes in your consciousness. Being subtle is not a reason for brushing them aside. And later, did you get a creative flash, or act with more generosity toward your partner? Hmmm…
So is this kind of awareness only possible while outdoor climbing?
Indoor climbing gets a bad rap. Especially from trad climbers. Sure, climbing loses a lot when you take it from under the arching sky and stuff it into a box lit by glaring lights. But some of its essence survives nicely. Movement, for starters. The poise of a body torquing in space with precision and finesse. You can't squeeze the athletic effort and dancelike grace of moving over stone out of climbing just by substituting plastic for the stone. The felt achievement, the power glow in your body afterward, lingers. The beauty of nature, of a day in the open, is of course lost. And that's why those of us who thrive outdoors hope to tap gym climbers on the shoulder and say, hey, come with me and try this… Yes, you have heightened your body-mind to a nice glow and an increased pitch of awareness right there in the gym. Now is your chance to apply that extra degree of serene awareness to our natural home, this planet which after all deserves some attention as the ground from which our beings have sprung.
Indoor climbing is an excellent way to lead people to discover outdoor climbing. How do you feel about how much the climbing industry has changed and grown? What's different, what do you like the least?
More people getting more immersed in wild nature is great to see. More fit, more active, more aware, more appreciative. The growth of the outdoor industry facilitates that. And the more we as a species grok the beauty and the profound wholeness of the natural world, the better we can immerse in its lessons, be grounded in our lives, and maybe quit screwing up our home, the only world we've got. Increasing corporatization, with the holding companies of the outdoor industry traded on Wall Street is the downside, but overall people getting outside is a great thing.
Agreed. You should read this poem a BKBeasts team member wrote after visiting The Gunks – you'd love it! What is your most ideal future of climbing?
That we can invite more people into the experience of climbing. After all, it grabbed us, didn't it? Changed our lives. The more people can experience that — or similarly edgy adventures like skiing, surfing, trail running, mountain biking — the more grounded, powerful, serene and grateful we the people can become. Compared to that, petty annoyances like a bit more crowding at your favorite climbing area mean little. There's so much rock on this planet it's ridiculous.
Okay, last question: your favorite climbing memory?
I like Alex Lowe's notion that the best climber is the one having the most fun. My favorite in a long string, a lifetime of climbing moments, is the freshest. Yesterday I climbed Old Rag Mountain in Shenandoah National Park. Starting as a trail, it morphs into scrambling passages winding through fine granite that leads up a ridge to the summit. Challenging yet ropeless, it commands the attention of everyone who passes by. Today there's a glow in my body and a smile on my face from it. Can't wait for the next one…
Come see Doug Robinson speak & talk about his new book, The Alchemy of Action, this Wednesday October 8th at 8pm!
Jul 11, 2020