text:
Our lives are stolen by others and
We do not live them, Rule One, but we
Are lived by thieves whose avarice
Or generosity in some simplest
Matter, once upon a time, wrote our
Existence. We don't own so much as
A mood, a Tuesday, our face, any
Part of our future. So history
Obsesses Godard, who laments the
Designs of memories as if they
Belong to anyone, or could. Rule
Two: History is pubescent,
Hysteric, fictive, transient,
Divided into chapters which are
The ghosts of spaces, empty as rooms
Unremembered by whoever dreamed
Within once. These are its chapters.
Memorize them, or try, for the test
On Friday. Nothing happened in a
Billion variations at any
Time. And Rule Three: Ghosts write the
Upcoming but not by writing but
Erasing. The long ago dead steer
The car over the cliff, or onto
The Channel ferry, or straight across
Texas. A phantom drove you to an
Addiction to the naked girl in
Afternoon sun, and the genetics
Of raw chance you called love.
James Robison has published many stories in The New Yorker, won a Whiting Grant and a Rosenthal Award from The American Academy of Arts and Letters. His work has appeared in Best American Short Stories, The Pushcart Prize, Grand Street, and other venues. He has poetry and prose forthcoming in Story Quarterly, The Blue Fifth Review, Commonline, Rick Magazine, Scythe, Metazen, Corium Magazine, and elsewhere. James taught for eight years at the University of Houston's Creative Writing Program, was Visiting Writer at Loyola College of Maryland, and was Fiction Editor of The North Dakota Quarterly.
first thing i know it's Weirton Steel,
sulfur-stink, ore dust, and my mom,
baby sister and i have driven dad
down US 2 till the tin mill swallows
the sky; i must be three, four, tops
and we park next a man-bridge,
and beyond it this tiny door gleams,
open on the bay; though it looks
like the evil eye, dad grabs
his pot, pecks mom, clambers out,
and then it's me on the bridge
and it clanks under my steel toe
boots, and just before that evil eye,
i smile, look back, wave; inside,
the bay teems, humming, bright
and it sure smells like jobs in there
Among other venues, Will Watson's poems have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Labor, and New Laurel Review. He is a member of the English Department at University of Southern Mississippi.
Every Day
On trash-strewn streets all across America
There are drooping, black draped figures
Walking into stark-lit mini-marts
Just like me; justified by an ethic
Of experience and intensity
They clamor and grasp, speak in tongues
Looking for the new highs
Promised behind every cellophane wrapper.
Like them, I am sick with myself and seething
Teeming with a hungry mass of devils
Scraping my desiccated wastes of brain
And finding only the generational vice
That we've laid, like a garland of depraved flowers
Over the chains of the young – the young escaping
The interminable boredom of two-dimensional
Representations of reality and secondary mediated experience
Only to find that they've choked themselves
With plastic cords.
I grapple, perhaps with conscience and certainly with a sloppy
Insubordinate body, for the tamest of entertainments
In six Tuesday-Night beer bottles
And watch the sloping, hooded figures snatching for hope
In a flat, glossy mirage of spread-legged girls
And watch the crooning street-celebrities
Reach another level with the false and commodified
Spanish-fly that Playboy has stamped with approval
And watch the pock-faced Indian lady
Take their money. And when it is my turn in line
I try to explain to her that there is nothing wrong with us
With any of us, but I can't quite find the words.
Peter Fernbach, Assistant Professor of English at Adirondack Community College and author of The Blooming Void (BlazeVOX Books), has been published widely in American journals and is concerned, lately, with the transformative and liberating effects of poetry on the unconscious mind, especially of those who are still impressionable and exploding with exuberance and possibility.
Red Cents
Pennies in a bowl
next to the register
collect like crumbs. Cast
like too many mouths
to feed. Take one.
Even out, exact the due
on a fill-up,
smoke pack, chew.
Take two, they're small.
Three. Four's the limit
among thugs.
Think of thoughts
bought cheap.
flipped, called.
Feel their heads
while there are still
two tails
to rub together.
Hear them utter when
you pinch them, slam them
down, slide them
like an ante
across the counter.
Smell how they linger
on your fingers, in damp
of your palm.
Deposit one
on your tongue.
Taste taking.
Like giving. Blood.
Charles Springer has degrees in anthropology and is an award-winning painter. Over the years, he has been published in Apalachee Review, The Cincinnati Review, Faultline, Heliotrope, and Oxford Magazine, among others. New poems appear or will appear in The Coe Review, The Avatar Review, Sawbuck, Forge, The Lumberyard and Edison Literary Review. A recent Pushcart nominee, Charles is currently working on a manuscript for his first collection.
I sell cigarettes and gasoline
and hate myself for it.
I'm the Clerks cancer-merchant,
the ex-punk buying in.
I'm the cashier who sells
everyone out, that documentary
Marjoe, the scam artist
who hates the scam.
To pass the time,
I try to guess what the customers
will buy: pack of bubble gum,
pack of cigarettes, quart of oil.
I get a feel for these products I sell,
get a feel for the people I overcharge.
Over the PA, I'm the voice of god:
Pump Seven, you're approved.
The night shift looms
like a tree branch caught
between high voltage wires.
Nobody wants to touch it.
But the spindle of necessity spins
this ragged thread of a schedule
into something just less
than a forty hour week:
no benefits here.
I measure out my take home pay
in forty ounces and frozen pizzas.
The counter is a barricade,
a defense I've forgotten
how to put down,
a distance I've forgotten
how to cross.
At home I wake from dreams
to the sound of the register opening.
I'm selling myself short.
Andrew Rihn is the author of several slim volumes of poetry, including the forthcoming chapbooks Foreclosure Dogs (Winged City Press) and The Rust Belt MRI (Pudding House). http://arihn.wordpress.com/.
Waiting for the Snow Front, Watching out
for Deer
I use my debit card to scrape ice from the inside
of my windshield. This dark morning drive to work
has a January feel, left over from last year and the years
before. This sameness makes me feel secure, holds me
in one patient place. Even the deer remember to wait
for my headlights before leaping across the gravel road,
testing my reflexes. They stage along the S curve washboard,
but sometimes one will burst from the Russian olive grove.
We are in this together. I like to be right in the middle
of dialing in the weather forecast on the radio
when it's time to hit the brakes, gear down and avoid
excessive swerving. I was made for this. I know the snow
will either come from the north on the Arctic carpet ride,
or from the west after cresting the Crazies. The radio tells me
which horizon to scan once the sun wakes up, but today
the forecast is interrupted with a news bulletin. Kinsey's post office
is shutting down, stepping off the map even though
the entire town had signed a petition to keep it open
with a hundred per cent voter turnout. Sixty people are not enough
for Washington to listen. This startles me in ways that deer in the dark
cannot. Kinsey was where my grandmother raised my mother.
Sugar beets and alfalfa fields, deer eating from Grandpa's apple
tree. Artic fronts or Chinook winds, children filled
the school bus with pioneer family names, wrapped
in knitted homespun wool. January led to January.
Nothing was meant to change.
Sherry O'Keefe, a descendent of Montana pioneers, is the author of Making Good Use of August (Finishing Line Press). Her most current work has appeared or is forthcoming in Switched-on Gutenberg, THEMA, Terrain. Org., PANK, Avatar Review, Fifth Wednesday Journal, Two Review, Babel Fruit, The High Desert Journal, and Main Street Rag. Currently working on a full collection, Loss of Ignition, she is the poetry editor for Soundzine. http://www.toomuchaugustnotenoughsnow.blogspot.com.
smoked long round vowels through lips
fixed in the thinnest of scribbles
and gripped each word in tongs like those
once found in the smithies
where his consonants were fired and burred
in the tales he told he spoke of kye pairks
of doors left onsneck't
of men wha'd been gassed in the war
his craft was mainly bicycles by then
cannibaled constructions and repairs
but occasionally on a fancy
just to entertain us
he would fire up the cold furnace
and spit sparks from the anvil
then e's powie wad dirl
as e pín't oot the airn
bruntin the win wi e's darg
kye pairks: cattle fields
onsneck't: unlocked
wha'd: who'd
e's powie wad dirl/as e pín't oot the airn/bruntin the win wi e's darg: his hammer would ring/as he struck out the iron/scorching the wind with his labour
Andrew McCallum lives in Southern Scotland and writes in both Scots and English. Finding himself unable to write anywhere else, he can only conclude that his artistic calling is exclusively to give voice to his own remarkable microcosm--the few square miles within which his ancestors (coal miners, farm labourers and railwaymen) have for generations 'drenched the earth with the sweat of their days before returning to invisibility.' His website can be found at http://www.andrewmccallum.weebly.com/.
Manatee Springs
Out on the dock, local men are fishing mullet:
blue bottom dwellers, casual as koi. In another season
we'd see floating gators here, and the heavy,
waterbound shapes of sea cow. But today
it's snap turtles and the patient, red-eyed perch
that witness your confession: At the end of my life, I'm all alone.
And knowing it, I press your hand.
Incredulous, you bend to understand
a grandchild's sudden sympathy: the slippery
scales of despair, flipping indignant from a heavy hook.
Out! out in summer air: the gasping gills, the strident tail,
and slowing rage in lidless eyes. Like a match
the mullet dies: first fierce, then blue,
then soft as smoke. Hushed by the stillness of what it knows.
A Seattle native, Susan V. Meyers has lived and taught in Chile, Costa Rica, and Mexico. She earned an MFA from the University of Minnesota and a PhD from the University of Arizona, and currently teaches writing at Oregon State University. Her work has recently appeared in Calyx, The Minnesota Review, Rosebud, and Dogwood, and has been the recipient of several awards, most recently a Fulbright Fellowship.
Only you and I would be giddily
in overalls digging out poles with
petrified worms (from the last trip)
still clinging to the hooks, throw it all
into the trunk of your parents' old Impala
and head south without a map, or enough
gas, or any bait. The Tom Sawyer in you
always choosing the long way out of town,
across the tracks where life tasted rougher,
dustier, different. Not just danger and risk—
though that was part of it. Some basic truth;
life ain't gonna be no crystal stair.
Not for a young gay boy. But I didn't know
(1972—you didn't know, either).
We just knew people thought we were cousins;
twins. For an entire year, we snorted
like Lily Tomlin's Ernestine. (Pity the poor
teachers who had us together in class.)
Summer days, we'd drive your parents'
car all over hell and gone. No particular route
or destination. Sometimes the Sangamon,
sometimes Kickapoo. Once, the pond in back
of your uncle's farm in Mattoon. Sometimes
we never even made it to water, like the time
we bought cheese and bread and cider at an
Amish farmhouse near Sullivan and chewed
the afternoon away in tall grass. The fishing
was just an excuse to get in the car and travel
where we felt like, to sit in humid air. To be
quiet—but mostly to talk and laugh, to get the
feeling you get after doing that for hours.
Going home had its own ritual, its own
expectations of stopping by Steak 'n' Shake
to buy white bags filled with food wrapped
in the same white paper, grease spots spreading
out here and there. Then, food-filled and
exhausted going the rest of the way home
slumped in self-satisfaction, finally quiet,
but still incredibly wise.
Priscilla Atkins' poems have appeared in various journals and anthologies, including Shenandoah, Prairie Schooner, The Southern Review, and New Poems from the Third Coast: Contemporary Michigan Poetry. Presently a resident of Michigan, she is originally from central Illinois, but has also lived in California, Hawaii, and Indiana.
Putting Up
Marian, August 1918
Everything, it seems, ripens
at once: limas and sweet
corn for succotash, cucumbers for relish,
peaches for jam.
For three days we chop
and snap, pack and boil. I wish
my hair was cornsilk, I say without
thinking, and Em tells me
to hush and keep shuckin'.
It smells better than
the factory, but I'd still rather
play ball with the boys. Mom says
everything else must wait
with such abundance
on the vine. When Pop comes home
from the factory he says don't
it look like we've caught
summer in those Mason jars.
I feel like a tomato, about
to burst.
Ann Eichler Kolakowski is currently a student in the MA program in creative writing at Johns Hopkins University, where she also works. Her previous credits include Antietam Review, Concho River Review, The Madison Review, and Slipstream. "Putting Up" is from her manuscript-in-progress, chronicling the lost mill town of Warren, once located in northern Baltimore County, Maryland. Ann's grandmother, Marian Brown, who died in 2006 at the age of 103, spent most of her life in Warren, and is believed to have been the last surviving mill worker.
Sex is in the eyes and the smell and the past. The hint
of sweat from straw-colored hair. The taste
of a smile. The lilting voice. The slow catch of silk
on nipples. No man covets shoes, though some
covet memory. Delilah, I miss you. I miss
Tulsa dying in the rearview, the sickly linger
of your cigarettes. But I'm not humping the passenger seat
anymore. Remember the time we got stuck in a ditch chasing
a field fire? A farmer called a sheriff, refused to tow us,
and kept his snake-rifle on us while we scrambled
to find wood to shove under the tires. He was afraid
we'd steal the night, the fire, the slow death of not knowing
what to believe that choked his heart. But we were
all first sons, whistle-britches, all looking for a place
to stick our hearts for safe-keeping. The boarded-over windows
of our mothers' eyes watched from graves half dug
but not full yet. We were forever looking back, saying:
we will stand tall when the winds die down.
The Rye
Where is that white camper of my youth? The old
Ford that only drove in third? Horses painted
on the side as we circled the back roads
out by Summer Sweet then back home, stoned boys
hanging from the back bumper. When did I begin
to consider Holden Caulfield's student loan debt?
The rank smell of feet in his unchanged socks?
We drank Cisco, vodka, whatever our already graying
hair could get us across the tracks. We didn't have
to worry if the music we made was too good, only
if it was real. Now, there is so little room left in the closet
to store my old drum set. Holden didn't know the cliff's edge
was protected by a guardrail. We never grew and yet
we're grown. These knees, blown from humble living—
if I could climb, I'd be over that edge, falling, falling.
C.L. Bledsoe is the author of two poetry collections, _____(Want/Need) and Anthem, and a short story collection, Naming the Animals. His poetry chapbook, Goodbye to Noise, is available online at www.righthandpointing.com/bledsoe. His minichap, Texas, was recently published by Mud Luscious Press. C.L.'s story, "Leaving the Garden," was selected as a Notable Story of 2008 for Story South's Million Writer's Award. Nominated thrice for the Pushcart Prize, he blogs at Murder Your Darlings (http://clbledsoe.blogspot.com/). C.L. has written reviews for The Hollins Critic, The Arkansas Review, American Book Review, The Pedestal Magazine, and elsewhere.
Being the Only Child in the Suburbs to Grow Up Eating Homemade Macaroni and Cheese,
June Cleaver Goes Back to the Old Neighborhood In Search of a Recipe, Discovers the Kitchen Is Not As Big As She Remembered
There were things you did not have
growing up,
things you wanted–
the blue box of macaroni and cheese
turquoise toilet water
lighter blue eyes.
Then there are the gems you hold
in your fists while you sleep–
the melody of tap water in a cobalt goblet
key of B as you slip the pad of your finger round the rim,
the rush of warm oven heat
a blanket of soft white cheese,
eyes that match your father's
and the river he swam in as a child.
When you are blue
remember these dinners
on speckled tin plates
steaming macaroni and cheese,
the blue gingham apron
keeping your mother clean.
Jill Crammond Wickham is a poet/artist/mother living in Delmar, New York, and funding her writing habit by teaching children's art and writing classes. Her poetry has appeared in Crab Creek Review, Naugutuck River Review, Weave, Blueline, and others.
My Mother Is Depressed Because She Wanted To Be Totally Transformed In A Year
When my mother cries she hunches,
she doesn't let go, she holds on tighter.
My mother the snail, my mother the child,
my mother the house on stilts.
I have a horror of her mons
how pale it is and how it swells,
how the hair covers it too thinly
yet over too wide an area.
I do not want that, I have thought.
Raise your hand if you feel shame when you look in the mirror.
Keep it raised if you feel the same shame when you look at your mother.
Only the girls?
My mother, pale and puffy, lying on an inch-thick crappy mattress
in Sicily somewhere when it's too hot to move,
when all of us are in the room sweating and waiting for something to change.
She has stripped in the heat and she is crumpling tomorrow's maps,
squeal-laughing with the absurdity of being overheated
and covered in charts.
A family turns like a screw in wood,
biting deeper into the grain.
We couldn't stop if we wanted to.
Sarah Stickney recently earned her MFA from the University of New Hampshire. Her poems have appeared in Scarab, Praxilla, and Clementine magazines. She currently resides in Bologna, Italy, where she has a Fulbright grant to study migrant writing.
Andy has a button that says, "This is what
a feminist looks like"
And when he wears it I remember my mother, the way she took me to the pool when
I was two, when my father left for work and we had the summers together. The only
language I knew was hers. There may not even have been words, it was mother-tongue.
But she told me it was time for me to learn how to do things for myself, and put me in the
water with floaties. It was our secret, she said, fathers are too protective. She wanted me
antigravity. Her hand under my belly, I floated. No. I was a wave on a body of water: I
skimmed. She told me about swimming lessons at the pier at the Y, the earaches, about
knowing how to get away in any situation. The body as a vehicle. She lifted and held
me, then slid her hand away, the balancing act between mother and body. The days were
long then, morning stretching and heating like dough or like a baby's lungs when she
gasps before pinching her nose, ducking under.
My Father, the Detective, Understands Nothing About Poetry
Dad doesn't get verse, metaphor. He is a concrete thinker.
On walks home from preschool,
kindergarten, anywhere—
he planted silver dollars, pendants,
letters between people I'll never meet.
He taught me to explore even things we think
we know so well. Lessons
on clues, on the courage to seek.
There must be a metaphor in there somewhere.
When I woke late, we loaded into his unmarked car
with phantom plates, or a van with a periscope,
a toilet, recorder gear, stacks of cigarettes
and snacks to last the week
and hurried the back roads to beat the late-bell.
It feels unpoemable, that strangeness that feels nothing
like a secret, nothing like an uncovering.
There is a bevy of red leather-bound books
in my parents' basement, gold stamped years on the spines.
Thirty years seeking out the city
until streets become asphyxiation burns—
the scorched paths some follow, are followed by.
Phone calls with a strained voice
to hear us speak, discover us still alive
in pajamas late at night while he guzzled coffee
and considered the notes he'd take later:
the body of a six year old, the messy drill
still hanging from his pupil, the father
stoned dead in front of the smashed television.
My father dizzied and worry-wrinkled—
this detail would not make it into archives.
Dad knew the location of every car accident
in Massachusetts, how the bodies hung, eyes exploded
onto the streets. He points them out as we drive
to buy dog food, take a walk for coffee and donuts.
He explains how to push eyeballs back into a face,
how to unroll a tongue.
These are not my lessons, aren't things I can learn
in a lecture. I did not scurry alleyways
finding fingers dimpled into walls, mortared.
But he kept a journal and never hid it—
my father who doesn't understand language
or the craft of it. Every day for thirty years,
an entry, striated with photos:
"murder, knife, questionable." "wife suspect?"
"Stench of vomit and burnt rubber. Source of death unknown."
My dad wants his story documented,
wants it written out of him.
My father the detective. His pockets
of nervous habits and the lessons
he planted in me, an effort to teach
the evil out of this world. His memoirs
scribbled like a collection of suicide notes
anthologized on a basement workbench.
Carolyne Whelan received her MFA in poetry and nonfiction at Chatham University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poetry Now, Eclectica, and Chapter & Verse, among others, as well as in a collaborative chapbook, Are You Free? (Glass Key Press, 2009). Carolyne's poetry recently won an award from the Sacramento Poetry Center. She lives in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and is the editor of the fledgling chapbook publisher, Longshore Press, while also working as a freelance writer and performer. Her forthcoming chapbook, entitled The Glossary of Tania Aebi, will be published by Finishing Line Press in 2011.
Treading Water
in the Archipelago
of Bodegas and Brownstones
I'm still photographing chalk outlines
on the sidewalk and street
in front of a brownstone,
the site cordoned off by yellow tape
when Where's the gun? someone in
a suit and flashing his badge asks
someone in uniform. Where's the knife?
someone else I can't see
for all the people milling about
adds. Technicians mutter—
maybe to themselves, maybe to each
other: fingerprints, DNA.
A needle and ballpoint for the homemade
tattoos—that's all they turn up,
and those stashed in an underwear drawer.
The TV's still on inside: Saturday morning
cartoons. You can hear the goings-on,
the windows wide open, and what
you can't you can fill in on your own.
Wyl E. Coyote, that sad sap
of the southwest, falls off cliffs,
lands impaled through the chest
on a tree limb below or
gets blown up, body parts flung
helter-skelter across the wasteland.
An arm lands on a cactus. A leg
flies into a circle of vultures overhead.
Seconds later, he lifts himself off
the limb or collects himself from the sand—
a lie not even children buy.
Jim Elledge's H, a collection of prose poems about outsider artist Henry Darger, is due shortly from Busman's Holiday Press. His A History of My Tattoo: A Poem, won the 2006 Lambda Literary Award for gay male poetry. Jim's work has appeared in Paris Review, Jubilat, Five Fingers Review, Denver Quarterly, North American Review, and other journals. He directs the MA in Professional Writing Program at Kennesaw State University. His father worked in the blast furnace of Granite City Steel in Illinois for all of his life.
A Lesson in Talking to My Father
From this window: a neighbor's kitchen.
Girl does algebra, man flips through
an old newspaper, licks his thumb at each page.
His wife flips a burger. So this is family.
A house indented from the page
of the street. Its insulation, marrow jammed
behind walls, stands strong as bones,
breast milk runs through their pipes
like water. And what of the wish to saw
the legs off their table, crack their white
china with my teeth. Ashes confetti
into the gutter as I tap my cigarette out
on the roof. The wish to burn a peep
hole into it, so I can peer upon my father
below, slumped in the recliner, eyes dead
at the weather channel. Could he care
more for the snow in Wisconsin than for me?
He is the tumor of this house, waiting to retire,
waiting to be grated out like mold
from a ceiling. Do I nag like my mother?
Let him teach me to flip people off
on the Belt Parkway and file for my taxes?
There ought to be a remedial course to teach
me how to talk to my father. The old fashioned
way. The Bay 49th way. Any
way that would make the house stop
squeezing me until my ribs hurt: each room
a vast width, throbbing like a muscle pulled.
I stand in a stretched coliseum, distance piles
up like bills and I can't pay a damn thing off.
My father rocking his chair against my head.
Maria DiLorenzo was born in Brooklyn, New York. She received her BA in English from the College of Staten Island, and is currently pursuing a MFA in poetry at Hunter College. Maria was awarded the Provost's Graduate Study Award in 2009. She was also nominated to read for the CUNY Turn Style reading series in 2010. Her works have appeared in Barrier Islands Review, Caesura, Connotations Press, and Pennsylvania Literary Journal. She currently lives in Staten Island.
Over-Easy at the All-Night Diner
I dump out the old brew and sizzle up the grill around dawn,
when the third shifters thin out and the day shift rolls in, then
I spot him; red stitching above his breast pocket reads, Tom.
In wrinkled coveralls, he leans on the counter and orders eggs
over hard; yolk hard as the August sun (bubbled like fresh tar
under his roller); leaves me his change and downs the dregs.
Most folks take theirs over-easy, they like for the yolk to ooze,
and sop it up with a slice of bread. Most still dreaming, eyes half-
open; maybe wishing the day was already over, but nobody says.
Bet he knocks off same time as me; I follow him home, in my head:
a tidy one-bedroom painted light blue, with pictures on the walls.
We'd sleep in 'til whenever, and then I'd bring his eggs to the bed -
over-easy this time, spread jelly on his toast. Then he turns me once,
easy, over. I notice the color of his eyes. (This is where it gets blurry -
we have nothing to say, or say nothing; either way, things get tense.)
I'll keep an eye out for a guy with a sewn-on name, to spoil my theory
while I sizzle up the grill, scoop out fine-ground joe, in no big hurry.
Barbara Sabol's poetry and prose have appeared in Public-Republic, Blood Lotus, Poets 350, the Tupelo Press Poetry Project, Red Lion Square, Apparatus Magazine, Tributaries, and on the Akron Art Museum's website. Her chapbook, Original Ruse, is forthcoming from Accents Publishing. Barbara has an MFA from Spalding University. She is a speech therapist, living in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio with her partner and dogs.
A Message for Stephanie
Stephanie, whoever you are,
your brother called about 9:15 pm
from the bar. You know which bar,
it's the one he flees to when
he just can't take this shit anymore.
He was already pretty damn toasted,
misdialed the number by one clumsy digit,
left the message on my phone instead of yours.
Didn't notice the answering machine
announced a strange name.
Stephanieeeee, call me.
It's your brother. Clunk.
Whatever else you do this evening,
when he calls again—and we both know he will—
call him back.
Or I will, hoping that my brother
will pick up from the last bar in the universe
where he's just placed the same call
and he's pretty damn sure that this one time
his despair will be more important
than my disapproval.
Dr. Jeanetta Calhoun Mish is a poet and literary scholar. Her second poetry collection, Work Is Love Made Visible (West End Press, 2009), won the 2010 Oklahoma Book Award, the Western Heritage Award, and the WILLA Award. She has published poetry in LABOR: Studies in Working Class History of the Americas, Poetry Bay, and Sugar Mule. Dr. Mish is currently a member of the faculty of the Red Earth MFA program at Oklahoma City University.
Charley Plays a Tune
Crippled in Chicago
with arthritis
and Alzheimer's,
Charley plays
melancholic melodies
on a dust-filled
harmonica he found abandoned
on a playground of sand.
He hears bedlam when he buys fish at the local market
and their skeleton bones show through;
lies on his back
in a dark rented room,
pine cones in his pillows and mattress;
prays to Jesus and rubs his rosary beads.
Charley blows into his celestial instrument;
notes float through the open window,
touch the nose of summer clouds.
Overtaken with grief,
ecstatically alone.
Charley plays a solo tune.
Nikki Purrs
Soft nursing,
5 solid minutes
of purr,
paws paddling
like a kayak competitor
against ripples of my
60-year-old river rib cage—
I feel like a nursing mother.
Nikki is a little black
kitten, suckles me for milk,
and I, her substitute mother,
afloat in a flower bed of love,
give back affection
freely, unlike a money exchange.
I go to the kitchen, get
Fancy Feast, gourmet salmon, shrimp.
A new work day begins.
Michael Lee Johnson is a poet and freelance writer from Itasca, Illinois. He says that he is heavily influenced by Carl Sandburg, Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams, Irving Layton, Leonard Cohen, and Allen Ginsberg. Michael's new poetry chapbook with pictures is entitled, From Which Place the Morning Rises, and he also has his new photo version of The Lost American: from Exile to Freedom. Published in over 23 countries, Michael is also editor/publisher of four poetry sites, which can be found at http://poetryman.mysite.com.
the Passaic River dragging garbage
hosts dragon flies with tiffany wings.
hearing they nip we never touch, never never.
in the park, we wave forty fingers
up at the food counter man—
lunging octopuses wanting icepops,
dixiecups, creamettes, hambuggies—
crunchable junk to chew by cheekloads.
with such scrummunchies
things aren't so bad in lonetown,
each of us a wheelee-o cowpunk
resolved up in his own mind.
suburban sidewalks are level
but these citywalks sail and
the earth around the slabs carry
homes for insect millions, ants building
whole houses in dots of millimetric brick—
ants working regular – digging, toting,
worrying leaves, micro-tough
jack russell terriers blooming muscles,
flexing their aggravated jaws
and wanting to be in the movies.
i never then named that uncared-for life;
i never then took words to own my own.
coming around i see
the bunting carousel
built of passionate slats
in the middle of kindergarten;
Bubbles - age thirteen full of
heart attack in a party tissue-dress
flared out on a pebble sidewalk of
rusted, beetle green and blue stones.
oh i thought she'd merely gone someplace
with her mother, not gone the way
death came and went for most
of my faint heart that day.
i see a mad dog in the street
shot in the heart or near
by the guncop; i see
rows of silk mills called "shops"
where my father's hearing cracked;
deafened by modern new looms,
so mad and shaken he did not want
to talk about it ever;
he kept a box of styptic pencils
his shaving hand shook so
and i was afraid every time i touched
his twentyplus ring of cold keys or
found a coin he dropped from
a pocket no one took time to mend.
although i saw out
from a chill, unmothered flat,
was running wild everywhere and
everywhere wild
to postpone a desolate home,
fragments of scenes tumble
in sundry colors of stone like
workmen's clothes on
spin cycle in a porthole washer.
David Schultz was born in Paterson, New Jersey. He began writing before puberty and has never stopped. Now some five decades later, he has been published in a number of small magazines for poetry and short stories. David says that writing has been and will be what he most loves to do for the rest of his life.
Candy Store Shopping List
First, the candy cigarettes
For that cool and mature look,
Dangling one of those sugared sticks from the corner of your mouth
And accenting crude cursing with a deep cough,
Like the neighbor down the block
Who, parents said, had been to college,
Yet worked in the foundry like everybody else;
And then the M & M's for pills,
Like the ones mom took after she spilled sauce on the kitchen floor
And screamed at you in the next room
Because your laughter at the Road Runner had distracted her;
And lastly, a dime Coke
Shaped like a little woman's body,
Cold and labeled it contained no narcotics
To swill like your uncle did his beer
Whenever he got caught reneging at pinochle;
And then sitting with your friends
Under the large maple tree in Polonia Park,
Watching the bats working the river for insects
After the Little League game in which the only home run
You'll ever hit was wiped out because you failed to touch first base,
Needing things like these to fall back on.
Speech for My Sixtieth Birthday
For the first time in my life
The cake is mine,
This one with my nerdy sixth-grade picture
Reproduced in icing.
And what can I say
To all of my friends and family gathered here tonight?
Now I am officially old.
Little more should be expected of me:
The children are grown;
The final accursed essays are graded and shredded as they deserve.
O, there may be a lawn or two to mow;
Flowers to be divided and given away.
And if I keep my wits about me,
A snide comment about those who play golf,
As if for the benefit of the souls in Purgatory,
Because now I am old and can say what's on my mind.
At this stage, there is little left to ask for.
Yes, I'd like to see the wall in Jerusalem to wail at,
Though I don't believe in wailing.
And I want to go to Africa to see lions chasing zebras
To remind me that nothing naturally reaches this age.
And, though there is no one to thank,
There is still much for which to be grateful:
That my daughter, even in her Howard Hospital bed,
After she tells me that I might outlive her,
Lights up as her lover enters the room;
That my son who waited and waited
Finally gave up on Godot and met love,
How across our table at the Boulderado
He smiled at her so wondrously that he
Showed the teeth that made his orthodontist rich;
That same smile that I find
In our photos from Santorini or The Bridge of Angels in Rome
Which kind tourists were gracious enough to take,
That same smile that is on my wife's lovely face tonight.
And finally, to all my family and friends,
I would like to raise a glass and say
May those I love always love.
And even those I don't.
Which is how a man thinks
When he's certifiably old
And about to take a bite out of his head.
Ron Yazinski is a retired English teacher who lives in Northeastern Pennsylvania with his wife, Jeanne. His poems have, or will soon appear in Mulberry Poets and Writers Association, Strong Verse, The Bijou Review, Edison Literary Review, Lunarosity, Penwood, Jones Av., Chantarelle's Notebook, Centrifugal Eye, amphibi.us, Nefarious Ballerina, Amarillo Bay, The Write Room, Pulsar, Menagerie, H.O.D., Forge, and Crash. Ron's chapbook, Houses: An American Zodiac, was published by The Poetry Library. He has also written a full-length book of poems, entitled South of Scranton.
Line of Sight
Frayed fur, mottled and patchy, the coyote
cocked his head and answered his mate.
I stood downwind, but he must have heard the crickets,
haphazard in their skitters, startled from my path.
He could hunt beaver, jackrabbits, prairie dogs, or voles,
though what could be easier than picking off our chickens.
Stunted hunter, grace shaped him, despite the mangy coat.
I steadied the rifle butt against my shoulder.
He leaned his forelegs into the howl
as plaintive cries pealed from his chest.
My wife feeds our kids with those eggs.
I drew a bead on his head. The other coyote bayed.
I opened steel into sky, opened silence
where splendor once swayed.
Jill McCabe Johnson is the recipient of the Paula Jones Gardiner Poetry Award from Floating Bridge Press, and two Pushcart nominations. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing at Pacific Lutheran University, and is pursuing a PhD in English at the University of Nebraska. Her writing has been published in numerous journals, including The Los Angeles Review, Poetry Quarterly, and Harpur Palate.
Salmonberry Mountain, 1911
Working with double-bitted axes
sharp enough to get a good shave,
fallers hew out slots
to fit springboards into bark.
Balancing on these planks, chips fly
like ants gnawing a giant stalk.
After the wedged out cut, big enough
for a lumberjack to lay down
and pretend he might be crushed,
they rip with a crosscut saw
the entire afternoon,
until the tree begins to snap.
Leaping like bucks,
each man searches for safety—
playing the odds
the fir will not fall crazy,
pounding them with one blow
as a sledge drives a stake.
A tremendous cracking fractures air,
the immense weight roaring through space . . .
slamming the ground—
exploding limbs, shrapnel.
Where the crown used to be
is a hole in the canopy
like looking up
from the bottom of a grave.
Mark Thalman's book, Catching the Limit (2009), is part of Fairweather Books' Northwest Poetry Series. His poetry has been widely published over the last three decades, and has appeared in Carolina Quarterly, CutBank, Many Mountains Moving, Pedestal Magazine, and Verse Daily, among others. Mark received his MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Oregon, and teaches English in the public schools. He is editor of http://www.poetry.us.com/, an anthology publishing national and regional poets. Mark lives in Forest Grove, Oregon. http://www.markthalman.com.
The can SNAPS and exhales as he
tears off the top and slips it inside,
knocks back a double VO then
a long cool swig of Genny,
the shot glass slams down
a starter gun for the melodic belch,
echo inside the chemical vats
he scrubbed at the varnish company.
Hit me again! And, after the second
tilts his head back, Ahhhhhh…
those were not the glass lined tanks
of Old Latrobe, no one drank Rolling Rock
after pulling him out the pitted
steel tanks he lowered himself into
every night the second half of
third shift to scrub the caustic
with caustic that over years thinned
and pulled the skin across and around
his face and balding skull so tight
he became his nickname, Tuna,
drinking with the other fish
at the gin mill across the street
each dawn before swimming home
tighter and smaller each day
with black lunch pails to be found
one day packed with a few documents,
shriveled policies, worthless stock,
waving on their way out of the plant
to the boiler men walking in
to stoke fire and steam, crank
the monstrous valves of another day,
shout to the line teratoids
hammering lids, racking barrels
cans, steaming stacks and vats
tombs polished and prepared pouring
acrid day into astringent night
until morning bellies up
to the varnished dawn.
I still hear the whistle, see
the razed plant when I drive by
cracked cement with mutant weeds
buried drums, broken bottles
overlooking the tracks where
three lunatics lived in a shack,
the nothing in his wide eyes
when they carried him from the plant
gills heaving, dolphins and tuna
snagged in the same net.
A clothesline waves, the bar
wiped down with a white towel,
punch clock, neon, double VO,
three, four, five, Genny chaser.
R.A. Pavoldi's poems have been published in FIELD, Hanging Loose, Margie, Exquisite Corpse, and ARS MEDICA: A Journal of Medicine, Health and the Humanities, Mount Sinai Hospital, Department of Psychiatry. He received an International Merit Award in Atlanta Review's 2005 International Poetry Competition and in 2003, was a finalist in The St. Louis Poetry Center's 43rd Annual National Poetry Contest, judged by James Tate. He makes his living in the publications development, production and distribution at Excelsior College in Albany, New York.
Eulogy for a Modern Day Proletarian
"And for every death / there was a building or a poem." - Stephen Dunn, Introduction to the 20th Century
Comrade, your work is through at last.
But lest you think you came up short
while drawing straws in the afterlife as well
as this one, let me say this: be not remembered
for your smoke stacks or fire escapes,
but the gentle rise of your arm as you displayed
your wares, the grace with which you capped
bottle after endless bottle. No rebar stuffed
beneath your arms like crutches, no air conditioner's
wheeze, only the memory of your assembly line antics,
a spoon dangling from your nose while the rest
clanked to the factory floor.
Recall that a building looks out and sees only
other buildings reflected in its glass face. A poem
looks inward, to the pocket change you always kept
for the violinist at top of the subway stairs.
A poem hangs a cross around your neck
instead of a badge. You lose a dimension,
and yet we clearly see your face pressed
against the thin pane of the page, beard trimmed
and black, eyes erased at last of pain.
A week before your last, you told me
I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Comrade, light as a post-it, stiff as a screwdriver,
we recall you now in a comfy chair with a cup
of chamomile. No more shift work whistle,
no more time card punch, no droning whir
from the hydraulic wrench, just the whisper,
imagine, of a slowly turned page.
Jennifer Gresham's work has appeared in numerous literary jounrals, such as Prairie Schooner, Crab Orchard Review, and Rattle, among others. Her book, Diary of a Cell, was the winner of the 2004 Steel Toe Books Poetry Prize, judged by Charles Harper Webb. Jennifer is currently the author of the blog, Everyday Bright.
The Man Who Taught Me Endurance
I knew a postal clerk with one small job - to untie knots
on misdirected parcels, a wizened gnome hunched
over a low wooden table scarred with scissor wounds,
ink tattoos and stacked high with every rope conceivable:
hemp coils, nylon, polyester, and polypropylene
all braided, kneaded, twisted, cross-hatched, choked, and tangled
in prophetic yet productive shapes such as dolly knots
that held their loads as long as something tugged the other way.
The man untied all kinds - double eights for climbers, half-hitches
for those who couldn't bear heavy loads, true lovers (overhand knots
that must be equal to stay locked), and the hangman,
a final knot applied when others would not hold.
Everyday from six a.m. till four p.m. for forty years
he battled boredom, visualizing himself as Marie Antoinette
in her last few moments while she inhaled the steel and terror
sparking from a sharpening wheel in the courtyard of her palace.
The Immigrants - 1929
Grandpa healed the great locomotives, herding them
out of Southern Railway shops along the veins of tracks
connecting both coasts to the Hoosier heartland. Paid enough
for bread and a few of those potatoes the Irish learned to love,
he brought home a bag of coal every week in winter
to fire the iron stove rising from the floor like a black orchid.
That stove split the house into kitchen and parlor.
Grandma bought "blue john" milk from a horse drawn wagon
and enough sugar to make the oatmeal taste better than paste,
but all that luxury ended when the stock market crashed.
The Southern trains quit running. Not afraid of hard labor
Grandpa took odd jobs at first, then hired on with the WPA
to clear brush, swing a pick, bust rock into gravel and build
a hundred farm roads that still crisscross Gibson county.
The word Depression had more to do with cash than self-esteem.
If he plowed no garden no garden got plowed, fed no chickens
no chickens were fed, and dinner wasn't as long on presentation
as it was practicality in those lean days, those days they learned
that living with need was better than giving in or up.
Grandma shared no patience with wastrels in her house.
My dad and uncle "Ding" split wood or went to bed hungry,
although a hobo might sample apple pie if the budget
had allowed for a show of wealth on a particular week.
These rules sustained their home –
Treat others better than you would treat yourself.
If you must steal bread to keep from going hungry, go hungry.
Curse only when the Cardinals lose the pennant.
Never take a drink on Sunday and use spittoons in the house.
Say nothing at the dinner table that doesn't sound grateful.
Show all women respect and all men equality.
When you die, let no one wish it had happened sooner –
and because they followed them, they never felt poor.


text:
I'm seeking an app (linux or web - or possibly a dos/windows app that might run under wine) that will let me sort my abc tunebooks. Any ideas?
Some background: I'm running Linux Mint 10 (~Ubuntu 10.10) with wine 1.3.8. I had used abc2win for years, and was able to get it work after I switched to linux (running it under wine), but but I can no longer get it to run with my current linux/wine release. I'm now trying out ABCJ as my main abc tool. There's a lot I like about ABCJ, but (unless I'm wacko) ABCJ can't sort tunebooks in tune name sequence (or, to sort the tune list display in name sequence, leaving the tunebook itself alone).
I guess I could use my text editor, but that would be a real pain-in-the-you-know-what.
Regards, Rob L

subset: commoncrawl


text:
The Gallery of Old & New Masters in Schwerin is home to Germany's most comprehensive collection of 17th and 18th century Dutch paintings.
It features an impressive selection of printed and hand-crafted works, Ernst Barlach sculptures donated by the Bölkow Foundation and Germany's largest collection of Marcel Duchamp works. In its unity of architecture and collection, the gallery is unlike any other museum in Germany. The permanent collection is complemented by special exhibitions of historical and contemporary art.
Opening times:
summer: Tuesday-Sunday 10am-6pm, Thursday noon-8pm; winter: Tuesday-Sunday 10am-5pm, Thursday 1pm-8pm
Dvije korisne kombinacije tipki za zumiranje u pregledniku:
Povećavanje: +
Smanjivanje: +
Dodatnu pomoć dobit ćete od proizvođača preglednika klikom na ikonu:


text:
Hello everyone. It's been a while, and I've been real busy in the scene working with clients and looking into other avenues to Gage interest.
That's why i'm proud to announce i'm sponsoring toyracer online tournament starting on June 15th in collaboration with DreamcastUK who will be handling most of the prep work such as brackets. To make the tournament more appealing: a 30$ prize will be awarded to the winner of the tournament, offered up by me to make things more interesting.
The signup page for the tournament is below. we also are looking for volunteer refs to report win/losses throughout the tournament to ensure fairness and honesty. If you are interested in becoming a ref for the tournament, contact DreamcastUK or myself here on DCTalk or Skype. The tournament page has a detailed FAQ for anyone with questions but also below the signup link are some rules to take note of.
http://www.ItsMuchMore.com <This site will be used to display the brackets when the tournament launches, for those participating, I would bookmark it
Both players must use the same car/truck etc (different paint work is fine)
Championship mode (all tracks not reserve, standard rules power ups allowed)
Meet in Tournament chat room to report result
Have ref in game (idling at the finish line) to confirm race results


text:
Latest Post:
Started By:
CERT Inforamtion
The Lee county EOC has stated the it does not have the time, money or will to train anyone for CERT. Because of this the Florida Defense Forces are having members trained as CERT instructors. The Florida Defense Forces hope to have 134 CI trained by March of 2010. This will give each county in Florida 2 instructors. Also the CERT classes will be hold monthly and shall cost 35 dollars for none FDF members & 5 dollars for FDF members. Hope this help you all out.
Member Comments
No comments posted for this topic.
Post a Comment
You must first login before you can comment.


text:
Find results with:
- in
- remove
- to
Searching collections:
Learn: State Symbols Nerd Room
Find out more about Michigan state symbols.
State Tree
White Pine (Pinus strobus)
A symbol of Michigan's rich logging history. From the 1860s to the late 1890s, we led the nation in lumber production!
Public Act No. 7 of 1955
State Bird
American Robin (Turdus migratorius)
The American Robin has been the state bird since 1931, and has been called the "best-known and "best-loved" of all birds in Michigan.
House Concurrent Resolution No. 30 of 1931
State Wildflower
Dwarf Lake Iris (Iris lacustris)
You can find this endangered wildflower along the northern shorelines of Lakes Michigan and Huron.
State Fossil
It may have roamed Michigan 10,000 years ago, but the Mastodon didn't become the state fossil until 2002. An extinct relative of the elephant, it weighed 4-6 tons and had tusks up to 9 feet long.
State Reptile
Painted Turtle (Chrysemys picta)
The Painted Turtle likes quiet, shallow waters. Its colorful markings allow it to blend into its environment.
State Fish
Brook Trout (Salvelinus fontinalis)
The Brook Trout is native to Michigan and is found throughout the state. It can also be found if you check the end of your line.
Public Act No. 5 of 1988
State Stone
Petoskey Stone (Hexagonaria percarinata)
Coral might seem an unlikely choice to be our state stone, but the Petoskey Stone is actually the fossilized remains of coral that existed in the northern Lower Peninsula around 350 million years ago. You might pick one up on a sandy beach.
Public Act No. 89 of 1965
State Gem
Known as the Isle Royale Greenstone, Chlorastrolite, is found mainly in the Upper Peninsula (and somewhere around here). The name literally means "green star stone," but its color ranges from a yellow-green to near black.
Public Act No. 56 of 1972
State Flower
Apple Blossom (Pyrus coronaria)
The apple blossom blooms on the apple tree. It has been an official state symbol since 1897 and was noted as "one of the most fragrant and beautiful species of apple."
Joint Resolution No. 10 of 1897
State Game Mammal
White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus)
Every fall Michigan hunters get a good look at the White-Tailed Deer. Hunting helps manage the deer population and generates business.
State Soil
Kallkaska Soil Series (Odocoileus virginianus)
The Kalkaska series is one of the earliest soil series to be recognized in Michigan. It was first described in 1927, in Kalkaska County, which is the source of the series name.
Public Act No. 302 of 1990
State Song
My Michigan
The words of this song were created by Giles Kavanagh while the music was done by H. O'Reilly Clint


text:
Vivid Racing is proud to offer Camber Adjustment Bolts for your vehicle's suspension performance. We carry high quality Camber Adjustment Bolts to fit your car performance needs, and this includes the value of saving you money.
Buying from Vivid Racing is the best choice you can make. We back every part we sell with our personal guarantee of satisfaction.
Buy online or give one of our world-class sales professionals a call at 1-480-966-3040 If you don't see what you are looking for Call Us. We can help. Vivid Racing was voted #1 in customer service nationwide!
Hands-On Experience and Professionalism is what makes us the best!


text:
Astrophotographer Chad Powell captured this vision of the Milky Way arcing phosphorescent over England's Isle of Wight, which island is renowned for its lack of light pollution.
Photo published by kind permission of Chad Powell
Powell tells io9 the panorama (which he's titled, appropriately, "Too Many Stars to Count") was shot on a Canon 6D and comprises 9 photos in total, each taken using a 25 second exposure at an ISO of 4000. He writes:
I have lived on the Isle of Wight all my life and up until late last year, I was totally unaware of the great dark skies the Island has compared to the rest of the UK. Don't get me wrong, the Isle of Wight skies have nothing on areas of New Zealand/Australia and the US in regards to dark skies but it is definitely up there as one of the best locations in the UK for astronomy. Although I say this, it is always a constant battle with light pollution when shooting the night sky in nearly all situations, several friends who live in the US have to drive and hike for hours to get away from the city lights and into dark sky locations, luckily I only have to walk 10 minutes from my home to get in a fairly dark area, which I'm extremely fortunate for.
Really stunning stuff. For more of Powell's work, check out his website and Facebook page.


text:
Posts Tagged 'Dublin'
The Hireling- Classic Serial, An Interior Life, A Living Death- File On Four, Cause Célèbre, Afternoon Plays- A Terrible Beauty, The People Next Door, and Crimes of Mancunia: Radio and Audio Review 27th June 2011
BBC Radio Four's Classic serial has been fizzing with a magnificent two part dramatisation of L.P.Hartley's The Hireling (Sunday 19th June, Saturday 25th June, Sunday 26th June and Saturday 4th July). Hartley seemed to specialise in catastrophic and intriguing class crossing relationships in the manner of D.H.Lawrence's "Lady Chatterley's Lover."
In "The Go-Between" passion vis-a-vis an already betrothed aristocrat's daughter and the gamekeeper leads to broken hearts and suicide as well as rights of passage intensity for a young teenage boy deployed to run between the Manor and Lodge as an unwitting cupid. Read the rest of this entry »
Serious Money and the Art of Austerity, The Browning Version and Rattigan's Versions, The Apple Tree and But If You Try Sometimes from the Afternoon Play, Richard the Second, Plantagenet, and the Day of the Jackal, Shalom Berlin and a Blind Date with Bloomsday. Radio and Audio Review 19th June 2011
BBC Radio Three has been providing poignant and sharply relevant drama and documentary programmes on the collapse of the domestic and global economy. This is public service broadcasting at its most anxious and perplexing.
As savings and assets evaporate in banking and property collapses, unemployment and inflation soars, and economic confidence implodes most people are helpless and powerless. Read the rest of this entry »


text:
'Magnolia Flowers' ~ by Golem Design Studio
A larger hole diameter for use with Tex 210.
Gorgeous handcrafted, hand-carved and hand glazed, ceramic beads made in Bulgaria.
45mm round with a 5mm hole
3-5 business days
I'll do my best to meet these shipping estimates, but can't guarantee them. Actual delivery time will depend on the shipping method you choose.
Buyers are responsible for any customs and import taxes that may apply. I'm not responsible for delays due to customs.
Just contact me within: 7 days of delivery
Ship items back to me within: 14 days of delivery
Request a cancellation within: 0 hours of purchase
But please contact me if you have any problems with your order.
Because of the nature of these items, unless they arrive damaged or defective, I can't accept returns for:
Buyers are responsible for return shipping costs. If the item is not returned in its original condition, the buyer is responsible for any loss in value.
Please contact me if you have any problems with your order.
Tutorials and patterns are for personal use only; reproduction and distribution of these instructions in whole or in part, in any form, without the author's consent, is strictly prohibited. If you wish to teach these instructions, please contact Diana Miglionico-Shiraishi at email@example.com directly for permission and additional copies. Should you sell your creations, please give credit for the original design to Diana Miglionico-Shiraishi, Jasmine Tea Designs.
If you are interested in a custom design please contact me directly at email@example.com I gladly take special requests and orders. You can choose from any beads or designs listed at my Etsy shop for a custom size or color. Don't see exactly what you want, just let me know your interests. I love to work with brides, special outfits and to complete your special look or event. I offer pearl knotting, stringing, bead embroidery and beaded kumihimo.
Apr 11, 2017
Beautiful piece! Thanks for the fast shipping and wonderful service.
Jun 16, 2016
packed well, but shipping was expensive for 3 beads


text:
Welcome to our online store. You can order our products here. This site is not e-commerce enabled - it will just generate an order and we will contact you to take the process forward. Please call 083 778 1991 should you have any questions...
Micromega Publications Online Store
Products for Occupational Health, Employee Assistance, Safety and Wellness
Candlelight Memorial
Candlelight Memorial 1
A3 Laminated Poster
Included tax 14%
Plus postage and handling charges.
Terms and conditions - Shipment note


text:
Sun Microsystems today announced several new products under its Open Network Systems initiative, along with a new family of flash-ready servers that have greater performance than earlier versions.
The company is offering the Sun Constellation System, a combination of the new dual-node Sun Blade X6275 server module powered by Intel's new Xeon 5500 processor series, the Sun Blade 6048 Quad Data Rate InfiniBand Network Express Module, the Sun Blade 6048 chassis, the Sun Cooling Door, the Lustre file system and Sun Storage portfolio.
Sun also unveiled a line of Flash-ready x64 blade servers, rack servers and workstations powered by the Intel Xeon processor 5500 series, also known as Nehalem EP chips. The dual-node Sun Blade X6275 server module is the first blade server to support onboard quad-data-rate InfiniBand for improved network performance, efficiency and ease of use, the company said.
Each Sun Blade X6275 server module has two full-function compute nodes, each with two quad-core Xeon processor 550 series CPUs, containing 96G high-speed memory, optional Sun Flash Modules and optional PCIe ExpressModule input/output. The same blades can run compute-intensive, memory-intensive or I/O-intensive applications, so users can use a single Sun cluster system for all their HPC work, the company said.
The Blade x6275 server module supports 96 nodes of two-socket, quad-core CPUs per node, which results in 768 CPU cores and nine teraflops of performance in a 42U rack, Sun said.
Sun's new Cooling Doors offer six times more efficient rack cooling than ordinary data center cooling systems, the company said. These are available as either sun Cooling Door 5200, which uses existing chilled-water infrastructure, or the Sun Cooling Door 5600, which uses eco-friendly refrigerant gas.
More information
About the Author
Trudy Walsh is a senior writer for GCN.
E-Mail this page
Printable Format
Advanced Search
Sign up for our newsletter.
I agree to this site's Privacy Policy.


text:
ALLEN PARK, Mich. (AP) The Detroit Lions have gotten quite a return on the $132 million, eight-year investment they made in Calvin Johnson nine months ago.
``He's not trying to live up to a contract,'' Detroit coach Jim Schwartz said Sunday. ``Personal records are great, and we certainly celebrate the season Calvin that has had, but it hasn't translated to enough wins.
``We need more help around him.''
That's a fact.
The Lions (4-11) have lost seven straight, the league's longest active skid, after reaching .500 at the midway mark of a disappointing season.
During the losing streak, Johnson has been perhaps Detroit's only bright spot.
He broke Jerry Rice's single-season yards receiving record of 1,848 in Saturday night's 31-18 loss to Atlanta.
``It's an accomplishment that took a lot of work,'' Johnson said. ``You can't take that thing away.''
Schwartz said Johnson hasn't racked up yards in blowouts because Detroit hasn't had many of them in a season filled with closely contested losses. He does acknowledge that the team's record doesn't let Johnson's accomplishment ring as true as anyone would like.
``It's hollow in the fact that we only have four wins,'' he said. ``You'd like for that production to translate to wins and you'd like to be able to celebrate that production with wins.''
In the win, the Falcons tried to take Johnson away as an option for Matthew Stafford in the passing game and couldn't do it.
With 11 receptions for 225 yards against Atlanta, he also became the only player in NFL history with 100 yards receiving in eight straight games and with 10-plus receptions in four games in a row. He had seven receptions of 20-plus yards for the second time in his career, a feat no other player in the league has done since at least 1991, according to STATS LLC.
Johnson, who has tied another league single-season mark with 100 yards receiving in 11 games, can add to his record total of 1,892 yards receiving in Detroit's finale Dec. 30 at home against Chicago and could reach the 2,000-yard mark.
Johnson's 10th catch Sunday night was for a 26-yard gain with 2:57 left in the game. After breaking the record with that catch, he jogged over to the sideline to give the football to his father, Calvin Johnson Sr., and told him not to let it go.
Not even if someone from the Pro Football Hall of Fame wants it?
``Oh no,'' he said. ``That's my ball.''
Stafford has done a good job of getting the ball to Johnson despite every team trying to stunt their connections and not having to worry about other playmakers because of Detroit's injury-depleted receiving corps.
Stafford threw for 443 yards against the Falcons, setting an NFL record for the most yards passing in a game without a touchdown. With 4,695 yards passing and a game to go against the Bears, he and New Orleans' Drew Brees could become the first two NFL players to throw for 5,000-plus yards in consecutive seasons.
``I'd love to be able to be able to do it again,'' Stafford said. ``But I'd love for it to come with a win.''
Stafford, who thrown the ball 685 times this season, is seven attempts away from breaking the NFL single-season record for attempts set by Drew Bledsoe with New England in 1994.
Johnson and Stafford have not been able to overcome the team's minus-12 turnover ratio this season that ranks among the NFL's worst in perhaps the statistical category that is tied most to winning and losing.
Against Atlanta, the Lions turned the ball over three times and their defense didn't recover a fumble or make an interception.
``We lose by 13 and 17 points come off turnovers,'' Schwartz said. ``We need to do a better job of taking care of the football. And also on defense, we need to come up with some.''
Detroit's comeback hopes were definitely dashed after getting a safety with 1:21 left to pull within 13 points only to have Stefan Logan take a knee at his 4 on a free kick.
``That's probably the first time I've seen somebody concede a punt in the field of play,'' Schwartz said. ``It was a poor decision. Part of a returner's job is to know where he is on the field. Saying, `I didn't know where I was. I thought I was in the end zone,' is not a valid excuse.
``When that error was made,'' Schwartz added, ``it made it very, very difficult for the team to come back.''
NOTES: The Lions are hopeful TE Brandon Pettigrew will play against Chicago after missing the last previous two games with a sprained left ankle. ... Lions DT Sammie Hill was scheduled to have a foot injury examined, Schwartz said.
Online:http://pro32.ap.org/poll andhttp://twitter.com/AP-NFL
Follow Larry Lage on Twitter:http://twitter.com/larrylage


text:
We use cookies to help improve your experience on our website and to analyse site usage. By clicking I accept or continuing to use this site, you agree to us setting these cookies. You can disable these at any time. Read our privacy policy and cookie policy to learn more.
In the spring edition of City Matters, find out about:
City Matters is also available in Braille, DAISY, audio (tape or CD) or in a larger print format if requested.
To request a copy of City Matters you can or contact us using the contact details below.
Corporate Communications
Chief Executive's Department
Belfast City Hall
Telephone: 028 9032 0202 extension 6274
Fax: 028 9072 6418
Textphone: 028 9027 0405
Email: email@example.com


text:
What are effective CAPTCHA solutions that can have localized description, and CAPTCHA text itself is either language-neutral, or can be localized (for Polish language)? It is to be used to protect a kind of contact form.
reCAPTCHA (for example) allows i18n of the widget, but this still uses English source text that is then machine-translated. This makes it, I think, harder to solve for people who do not know English at all. I suspect it is even worse for the audio version of CAPTCHA.


text:
How to Make a Payment thru eBilling
In order for you to view the eBilling statement and/or make an online payment, please use the following login instructions:
- Students: Banner Self Service>Student Services>Student Accounts>My Account
- Authorized Users: Use this link.
Click on the eBills tab. Select the statement you want to view and click on GO. Right click anywhere in the statement and choose print. Use this option if you would like to print a copy of your bill. If you intend to mail in a check as payment on the account instead of making an electronic payment, please note the Banner ID number or the student name on the check.
The address to mail payments to is:
Saint John's University
Student Accounts Office
2850 Abbey Plaza, PO Box 5000
Collegeville, MN 56321
To make an online payment:
To initiate a payment please select the green box that says Make a Payment. A new page will appear that looks like the last page and you will need to select the green box with Make a Payment again.
Choose the amount of your payment. You can choose to pay the entire amount of the bill, or type in a specific amount. If you want to pay the full amount, you can click on Current Account Balance. You also have the option of including a memo for future reference. Select Continue.
The next screen will direct you to choose a payment method. From the drop down box, make your payment method selections. Your choices are Electronic Check (from your checking or savings account) or Credit Card via PayPath.
Electronic Check payments:
- To make an Electronic Check payment, select this option and then click Select. Now you will enter your bank account information.
- In Account Type choose either checking or savings
- Enter your routing number (bottom left side of check blank 9-digits)
- Enter your account number (numbers that follow the bank routing number above)
- Confirm your account number
- Enter the name as it appears on the account (ie John Smith)
- After you have entered the above information, you can save the account information as a profile for future use by checking the box below Option to Save. When you login to make a payment in the future, the information will be available to select as one of your payment methods.
- Beneath Save Payment Method As, you can name your payment, e.g. Primary Checking, Checking Account.
- Note: If any of the bank account information becomes incorrect at any time, be sure to delete the corresponding Stored Payment Method and reenter your new Payment Method with the proper information.
- Select Continue.
- Please review the following statement regarding your payment. Select I Agree and then select Submit Payment.
- Payment to your account is now complete. This is the confirmation page. A confirmation email will also be sent to the email address that is given for the authorized user.
Credit Card payments:
- To make a payment by credit card, choose Credit Card via PayPath and then click Select.
- Review the transaction details and then select Continue to PayPath
- A new window will open.
- Select Continue
- Confirm the amount to be paid to your student account. A new screen will appear that shows you the different types of credit cards that will be valid as well as the information that you will be charged a 2.85% (minimum of $3.00) non-refundable service fee.
- Select Continue
- The type of card that you will be using appears at the top of the screen
- Enter the name as it appears on the card
- Enter the credit card account number.
- Enter the expiration date from the pull down windows
- Enter card security code (on the back of the card).
- Optional: Enter the billing address (street address, city, state, and zip code in subsequent boxes)
- Enter your email address and retype in the next box to confirm.
- Optional: Enter your phone number.
- You will have the opportunity to review this transaction before being submitted.
- Select Continue
- Review your payment details on the next screen. Verify that all of the information is correct. If you need to edit the payment information select the Change Information button.
- Select the box under Terms and Conditions to authorize the charges to your credit/debit card.
- Select Submit Payment.
- Your credit card payment is complete. This page contains your receipt information. Be sure to print this page for your records. For security reasons, we recommend that the browser be closed after the payment has been made.


text:
Q. I have a question about NJ state tax policy on capital loss.
For federal tax, there is the wash sale rule. Does the same policy apply to NJ state tax? My situation is that due to the wash sale rule, I cannot claim a lot of my loss on the federal return. If the same rule does NOT apply to state tax, then I have a net loss, which cannot really be deducted in NJ state tax return.
I am thinking about selling some stocks with loss so that I can claim a net loss in the federal tax return, but I am afraid this will generate a bigger loss that cannot be claimed in state tax return. Is there anything to help the dilemma here? Do you think it is allowed that I use the same wash sale rule so that some loss can be carried over to next year for state tax purpose?
A. Under the federal "wash sale" rules, the IRS will disallow any loss on the sale of an investment when the same or substantially identical securities are acquired within 30 days before or after the sale. If you sold 100 shares of IBM on November 2nd for a net loss of $1,000.00 and repurchased 100 shares of IBM on November 28th you cannot deduct the $1,000.00 loss.
When a "wash sale" occurs, the cost basis of the same or substantially identical security acquired within the 30 day period is increased by the amount of the loss that was disallowed under the "wash sale" (the $1,000.00 in the above example). The holding period for the replacement security includes the holding period of the stock you sold.
When a "wash sale" occurs, the cost basis of the same or substantially identical security acquired within the 30 day period is increased by the amount of the loss that was disallowed under the "wash sale" (the $1,000.00 in the above example). The holding period for the replacement security includes the holding period of the stock you sold.
As to the New Jersey Gross Income Tax treatment of a "wash sale":
The instructions for Schedule B of the NJ-1040, which is the NJ equivalent of the federal Schedule D and where you would report Net Gains or Income from the Disposition of Property, clearly states –
"The basis to be used for computing gain or loss is the cost or adjusted basis determined for Federal income tax purposes."
You would use the same cost basis for the investments sold on the Schedule B of your NJ-1040 as you did on the Schedule D of your federal Form 1040. So, if your federal cost basis is adjusted for a "wash sale" so is your NJ basis. The net gain or loss on the sale of the investment is the same on the NJ-1040 as it is on the federal 1040.
Because the "wash sale" rule reduces your net federal loss on the sale of the investment, so it also reduces your net NJ state loss. This is a good thing. As the NJ state income tax is a "Gross Income Tax", you are not allowed to deduct a net loss in any individual category of income. And NJ also does not permit any "carryover" of unused net losses.
If you are selling additional stock to create the maximum $3,000.00 net capital loss on your federal Form 1040, the $3,000.00 net loss is "lost" on the New Jersey return. And if you have a net capital loss from 2007 current year activity of $10,000.00, claim a federal deduction of $3,000.00 on the 2007 return, and "carryover" $7,000.00 to the 2008 federal Form 1040, the $10,000.00 in net losses are "lost" on the New Jersey return. The losses are "lost" forever for NJ state income tax purposes, and there is nothing you can do about this problem. You will never be able to claim a state tax benefit from these losses.
Check out my posting "CAPITAL GAINS AND NEW JERSEY STATE INCOME TAX".
Check out my posting "CAPITAL GAINS AND NEW JERSEY STATE INCOME TAX".
FYI, in the case of property with accumulated depreciation, the New Jersey cost basis, adjusted for depreciation recapture, may be different from the federal basis, as NJ has not accepted certain recent federal depreciation changes. But this will most likely affect the sale of business assets, and therefore will not be included in gains and losses reported on the NJ Schedule B.
I hope I have been of help.
(1) Check out my new blog for Schedule C filers THE FLACH REPORT.
(2) I have posted the answers to my trivia contest at ANYTHING BUT TAXES.


text:
DMCA Notices So Stupid It Hurts
from the yay-dmca deptGoogle's decision to be much more transparent about DMCA takedowns for search has revealed a swathe of absolutely ridiculously stupid DMCA notices. We've covered some already, but TorrentFreak has found some more -- including multiple cases of DMCA notices by copyright holders that aren't just against their own best interests, but are often against content they, themselves, put up. This isn't even a situation like Viacom suing YouTube over clips that Viacom's employees had uploaded. In those cases, at least, it involved attempts to make the clips look unauthorized.
Here, however, it appears to just be ridiculous bad processes in place to make sure DMCA takedowns are legit. There is, for example, the case of Warner Bros. sending a DMCA takedown for the IMDB page of its own movie, Wrath of the Titans. It also demanded that the Guardian newspaper's showing of the official trailer of the movie be removed from Google search. Ditto the official trailer on Apple's site and Hulu's site. And, let's not forget the BBC America news article about how the film might be "critic proof" as well as a page from Charleston South Carolina's newspaper, The Post & Courier about the film and telling people where to go see it. Though, I guess Warner Bros. lawyers didn't want you to see it at all, because all of those were DMCA'd for being in Google's search.
It's almost as if the lawyers at Warner Bros. are so clueless that they were actively trying to hide any legitimate marketing for the movie. I'm sure their colleagues in the marketing department must have been just thrilled about these efforts.
The TorrentFreak article lists out a bunch more takedowns, directed at news sites, often promoting the works in question:
The more you play around, the more examples like this you can find. Zuffa, the notoriously litigious folks behind UFC, demanded a Hulu link be disappeared from Google search, despite Hulu only posting authorized content.
In addition to the Warner instance mentioned above, the RIAA asked Google to delist a review of the album Own The Night published on The Guardian. The artist behind the album is Lady Antebellum, signed to RIAA-member Capitol Records.
Even more worrying, the RIAA asked Google to delist Last.fm's entire Electro Pop section because they thought it carried a pirate copy of All About Tonight by Pixie Lott.
Warner also reappeared later on, asking Google to delist a page on news site NME which lists information on the latest movies, which at the time included information on the movie Hall Pass. The same page on NME was targeted on several other occasions, including by anti-piracy company DtecNet on behalf of Lionsgate, who had info on The Hunger Games delisted.
Hollywood Reporter didn't fare much better either. Sony Pictures asked Google to swing the banhammer against the popular news site after it published an article called "Trent Reznor Releases Six Free Tracks From 'Girl With the Dragon Tattoo' Soundtrack" and Sony mistook it for a DVDRIP.
But as soon as Sony's piracy fears on the first 'Dragon Tattoo' movie had subsided they were back as strong as ever with the sequel. This time the sinner was Wikipedia who dared to put up an information page on the movie The Girl Who Played With Fire. Luckily Sony were on hand to ask Google to delist the page.
Sony Music and the Estate of Michael Jackson tried to get a page on Last.fm for Slave to the Rhythm removed as infringing.
Let's see... we've got Universal Music/Interscope (by way of Web Sheriff) demanding that Google delete a link to Wall Street Journal post (reprinted from Mashable) embedding an official Lady Gaga video from last year. Oh, and that wasn't all. They also went after an MTV news article about the video shoot -- which did contain some footage that someone had shot from a distance, but that seems extreme to kill the whole article. Ditto for a NY Post article.
Sony Music Nashville was so worried about a Carrie Underwood leak that it tried to erase a Reuters archive page from 2008 that just lists a bunch of headlines -- none of which has anything to do with Carrie Underwood.
TorrentFreak noted above that the RIAA asked the Guardian to takedown its review of the Lady Antebellum album Own the Night, but that wasn't the only target. The RIAA demanded that Google remove a link to a review of Lady Antebellum songs on AOL's music site. Lady Antebellum was clearly so upset by AOL breaching its copyright that the band posed for a photo at AOL studios.
For most musicians, getting onto Pitchfork is a goal. For the RIAA? Well, apparently Pitchfork must be stopped. That's why it DMCA'd the tastemaker website for daring to post an article about Coldplay, in which they embedded a song directly from Coldplay's own YouTube account. The article even notes that the band had released the song to Pitchfork. Nice going RIAA, trying to stop your own bands from getting the publicity they seek.
Anyway, that's just after a little bit of searching... I'm sure we'll have more examples going forward... Thanks to the folks at Torrentfreak for their initial research which inspired some of these other findings as well.
Filed Under: dmca, takedown, transparency report, wrath of the titans
Companies: google, riaa, viacom, warner bros, youtube


text:
Tornado warnings were sounding across north central Texas on Thursday evening and parts were also under the threat of twisters.
A tornado that touched down in the town of Krum, Texas, was confirmed by the National Weather Service, Denton County Sheriff's Office told NBC News, though the exact location and severity of the damage were not known. Nor were any injuries reported.
Storm spotters and Doppler radar saw the developing tornado 3 miles southwest of Krum as it moved eastward toward the city of Denton, which saw golf-ball sized hail earlier in the day.
The weather service also issued tornado warnings Thursday for several areas in Missouri, part of the same storm system that forecasters said could be the first significant tornado outbreak of the season.
An alert was issued for people living in southern Benton and northern Hickory counties at about 5:15 p.m. ET with residents asked to "take cover at this time."
Another alert was issued earlier for parts of Dallas, Hickory and Polk counties, not far from Springfield.
The "main show" of storms was forming in an arc over west central Missouri into southeast Kansas into Thursday evening, according to the weather service.
The overall threat for severe thunderstorms — and possibly tornadoes — remained high in nine states, stretching from southern Iowa to east Texas and Louisiana, The Weather Channel reported.
In the earlier Missouri alert radar had indicated rotation in the storm, one possible sign of a tornado, and that flying debris would be dangerous to people caught without shelter. By late evening, however, a tornado in that area had not yet been confirmed.
A tornado watch was in effect for four states, Arkansas, Kansas, Missouri and Oklahoma, until 10 p.m. ET. Forecasters said at least 50 million people were at risk for strong storms, hail and possible tornadoes.
Earlier Thursday, a tornado was confirmed outside St. Louis.


text:
Careers at Wireless Lifestyle
Sprint 5 E Golf Rd Unit 5A
Although we are all individuals at Wireless Lifestyle (WL), we work in teams, we sell in teams, and we WIN as a team.
Our desire to be the best, and our dedication to customer service requires WL to employ individuals who demonstrate a commitment to its core values. We first and foremost look for those with INTEGRITY, who are driven to EXCEED EXPECTATIONS. In return, WL provides training, support and resources empowering each associate to focus on personal and professional GROWTH. WL's leadership also cultivates an environment of RESPECT and OPTIMISM for everyone at Wireless Lifestyle. When these pieces come together, every individual has the security to HAVE FUN with customers and coworkers alike.
When WLers are living our mission statement and exceeding their goals, the rewards are abundant. Performance-based pay, regular contests and incentives, and employee discounts on wireless service and accessories are benefits WLers enjoy when they join the Wireless Lifestyle family. The very top performers can even earn a spot on our annual rewards trip!
For over a decade, Wireless Lifestyle has supported its associates in achieving their professional goals. At every level of leadership is a WLer who began his or her career as an associate in a WL retail store. Our internal career center highlights opportunities for our people to move into store leadership positions, multi-unit management, or operational support roles all over the country. Opportunities also exist to move into supporting positions at our headquarters in Overland Park, Kansas. We invite you to make your career at Wireless Lifestyle.
Be sure to check out our Facebook page at Facebook.com/TeamWirelessLifestyle and follow our tweets at @WLCareers or visit our careers page on LinkedIn. Please note, this is not an offer for Sprint employment.
We have a lot to offer. As an employee you will:
- Work in a collaborative environment
- Benefit from a career that will give you the growth you've always wanted
- Receive a generous discounted wireless device and plan
- Have fun while earning
Welcome to Wireless Lifestyle's Career Center!
We currently operate over 200 locations in KS, MO, IL, CA, OR, ID, MN, WI, PA, NJ, NY, FL, Puerto Rico and are expanding. Wireless Lifestyle is a fast growing company that embraces a culture of teamwork. If you are looking for an extraordinary opportunity to be in a high-performing sales company, Wireless Lifestyle may be the right place for you to pursue a rewarding career. Please contact us or submit a resume through the Job Search Link.


text:
Shop Soccer Gear, Supplies, Jerseys & Shoes At Our Online Soccer Store
Have you been searching for the latest styles in soccer gear and apparel? You've come to the right place! Soccerloco is the top soccer store for soccer supplies including soccer jerseys, shoes, cleats and much more. As the leading online soccer shop, soccerloco provides you with the best selection of soccer equipment from top brands including Nike, adidas, Puma, and many more at the lowest prices online allowing you to find exactly what you need at a price that's right. We bring our unparalleled retail shopping experience online to our customers across the entire country so that you can shop the best selection of soccer gear at the lowest prices online.
Shop soccerloco today to get the latest products from the game's most trusted brands including Nike, adidas, Puma and many more in our soccer shop so that you can hit the pitch knowing your gear will suit.


text:
Log in to My Spektrum Get easy, online access to your Spektrum™ software updates, product registration and personalized settings.
My Spektrum
Retail: $2,099.99*
JR's phenomenal 12X. The ultimate combination of pro-class performance, security, convenience and quality.
As a product of inspired collaboration between JR and Spektrum engineers, the integrated 12X 2.4 and module-based 12X MV represent a true breakthrough in pro-class radio control. So in addition to flying with the proven security and convenience of Spektrum™ 2.4GHz DSM® technology, you can expect to be flying with the kind of innovative, no-nonsense features you expect from JR®—features devoted solely to the experience of flying with optimized control of your models.
Ultra-fast 2.4GHz DSM2 control response, plus refined 2048 resolution.
The extremely low latency of the 12X—a result of JR/Spektrum cooperation and ingenuity—delivers an astonishing sense of connection with your model. It's a feature that prompted perennial World Championship competitor Quique Somenzini to declare the prototype "unbelievable, amazing!" after only one flight. Also, thanks to another 12X breakthrough, all 12 channels respond to commands with identical speed and perfect synchronization for unprecedented control precision. Then, to top it off, the instantaneous response of the 12X is complemented by the accuracy of JR's refined 2048 resolution.
Exclusive patented ModelMatch™ technology to prevent "wrong model syndrome," plus a 50-model memory.
Here's how ModelMatch works: If you're operating on 2.4GHz and your transmitter doesn't "recognize" your model as the selected model when your airborne system is turned on, there'll be absolutely no control response. You'll be alerted that something's wrong and a costly crash may be averted.* Also, the 12X's included PC Data Transfer System permits you to upload an unlimited number of model setups from your transmitter to your computer, then access and download any 50 of them to your 12X transmitter's model memory for use at the field.
Unmatched JR quality in every detail.
From its exclusive, durable, precision-cast magnesium transmitter housing to its ultra-legible, high-resolution backlit display, everything about your 12X speaks of the kind of quality that's a benchmark of JR equipment. The ultra-smooth, quad-bearing stick assemblies, proven rolling selector data input, accessible shoulder-mounted momentary contact switches—and details like the custom naming capability for flight modes—all contribute to the unmistakable feeling that you're flying with the very best, most intelligently conceived pro-class equipment that's ever been introduced.
Get aircraft or vehicle set-ups for your transmitter.
JR/DSM 12X Charger Notice
The 12X charger output is DC 12.0V, with 250mA as the average charge rate. The 12X charger is not a peak detect charger, but is integrated with a 12-hour timer. When the charging begins, the LED will blink with a slow flash to indicate it is charging. After 12 hours, this timer will shut off the charger to prevent overcharging, and the light will go solid green. The solid green light is not an indication of completion of charge—only the battery voltage should be used as a measure of the charge completion. If an error occurs while charging, the LED will flash rapidly. In this case, it will be necessary to unplug the charger completely from the battery and wall outlet to reset the charger. The 12X battery contains a heat detector. If the detector senses excessive heat, it will shut off the charger and show an error on the charger LED. The charger also will detect excessive voltage or current, and in this event, the charger will terminate the charge and the LED will indicate an error.
To charge the 12X battery follow the steps below:
1. Plug the charger power supply into the charger.
2. Plug the charger into the 12X battery.
3. Plug the charger power supply into the wall outlet. Note: The charger is plugged into the battery first, then into the wall outlet to prevent a static short, which could possibly damage the battery circuit.
4. Charge the battery for 8 to 10 hours for the initial charge.
5. Monitor the temperature of the battery during charging. Do not leave the battery unattended during charging. The battery should be warm to the touch when charged, but it should never get hot to the touch. If the battery gets hot, remove it from the charger immediately and let it cool. Note: If the charger is left on for more than 12 hours and has shut off and the light is solid green, the battery pack will cool. The temperature of the pack and the solid light on the charger should not be used as an indication of the charge status of the battery.
6. After charging, check the voltage of the battery pack by turning the system on. The voltage should be just over 11 volts (11.4 volts approximately, however, this will vary).
7. Note that during the first use of the battery, the voltage may drop to below 10 volts quickly after the initial charge. The battery pack will require a couple of charge and discharge cycles to optimize its performance.
8. When the battery voltage drops below 9.6 volts, recharge the battery monitoring the temperature of the battery during charge. Charge the battery until it once again reaches just over 11 volts. Use care to not overcharge the battery.
9. When the charger first begins charging, the charge rate begins at around 270mA and will decrease to around 180mA when the battery voltage reaches around 11 volts. Normal charge time for a fully discharged battery is between 8 and 10 hours, with a maximum of 12 hours. If the battery is not completely discharged when connected to the charger, the necessary charge time will be decreased.
10. If the transmitter is turned on while charging, the charger may detect a charge error and will need to be disconnected and reset.
11. The battery voltage does not affect the output of the system as the output is regulated internally.
12. If the transmitter battery alarm goes off during flight, land immediately and recharge the battery before flying again.
13. The latest generation of Nickel Metal Hydride (Ni-MH) batteries, including the 12X 2000mAh battery, incorporate a new chemistry mandated to be more environmentally friendly. These batteries, when charged with peak detection fast chargers, have tendencies to repeatedly false peak (not fully charge). When charging with a peak detection charger, be especially cautious and absolutely sure that the battery is fully charged. It is recommended to use a charger that can display the total charge current. Note the number of mAh put into a discharged pack to verify it has been charged to capacity.
It has come to our attention that some users have experienced the 12X battery pack becoming loose after charging or setting the transmitter down jarring the battery. To add additional security, apply 2 thin foam adhesive strips inside the battery compartment as shown in the photos. Small strips of double sided foam tape can also be used without removing the backing facing the battery pack so that the battery can still be removed if desired. We apologize for any inconvenience. Click Here to view images
What this Warranty Covers: Horizon Hobby, Inc., (Horizon) warrants to the original purchaser that the product purchased (the "Product") will be free from defects in materials and workmanship for a period of 3 years from the date of purchase.
What is Not Covered This warranty is not transferable and does not cover (i) cosmetic damage, (ii) damage due to acts of God, accident, misuse, abuse, negligence, commercial use, or due to improper use, installation, operation or maintenance, (iii) modification of or to any part of the Product, (iv) attempted service by anyone other than a Horizon Hobby authorized service center, (v) Product not purchased from an authorized Horizon dealer or (vi) Product not compliant with applicable technical regulations. OTHER THAN THE EXPRESS WARRANTY ABOVE, HORIZON MAKES NO OTHER WARRANTY OR REPRESENTATION, AND HEREBY DISCLAIMS ANY AND ALL IMPLIED WARRANTIES, INCLUDING, WITHOUT LIMITATION, THE IMPLIED WARRANTIES OF NON-INFRINGEMENT, MERCHANTABILITY AND FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE. THE PURCHASER ACKNOWLEDGES THAT THEY ALONE HAVE DETERMINED THAT THE PRODUCT WILL SUITABLY MEET THE REQUIREMENTS OF THE PURCHASERS INTENDED USE. Purchasers Remedy Horizons sole obligation and purchasers sole and exclusive remedy shall be that Horizon will, at its option, either (i) service, or (ii) replace, any Product determined by Horizon to be defective. Horizon reserves the right to inspect any and all Product(s) involved in a warranty claim. Service or replacement decisions are at the sole discretion of Horizon. Proof of purchase is required for all warranty claims. SERVICE OR REPLACEMENT AS PROVIDED UNDER THIS WARRANTY IS THE PURCHASERS SOLE AND EXCLUSIVE REMEDY. Limitation of Liability HORIZON SHALL NOT BE LIABLE FOR SPECIAL, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL OR CONSEQUENTIAL DAMAGES, LOSS OF PROFITS OR PRODUCTION OR COMMERCIAL LOSS IN ANY WAY, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER SUCH CLAIM IS BASED IN CONTRACT, WARRANTY, TORT, NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY OR ANY OTHER THEORY OF LIABILITY, EVEN IF HORIZON HAS BEEN ADVISED OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. Further, in no event shall the liability of Horizon exceed the individual price of the Product on which liability is asserted. As Horizon has no control over use, setup, final assembly, modification or misuse, no liability shall be assumed nor accepted for any resulting damage or injury. By the act of use, setup or assembly, the user accepts all resulting liability. If you as the purchaser or user are not prepared to accept the liability associated with the use of the Product, purchaser is advised to return the Product immediately in new and unused condition to the place of purchase. Law These terms are governed by Illinois law (without regard to conflict of law principals). This warranty gives you specific legal rights, and you may also have other rights which vary from state to state. Horizon reserves the right to change or modify this warranty at any time without notice. WARRANTY SERVICES Questions, Assistance, and Services Your local hobby store and/or place of purchase cannot provide warranty support or service. Once assembly, setup or use of the Product has been started, you must contact your local distributor or Horizon directly. This will enable Horizon to better answer your questions and service you in the event that you may need any assistance. For questions or assistance, please visit our website at www.horizonhobby.com, submit a Product Support Inquiry, or call 877.504.0233 toll free to speak to a Product Support representative. Inspection or Services If this Product needs to be inspected or serviced and is compliant in the country you live and use the Product in, please use the Horizon Online Service Request submission process found on our website or call Horizon to obtain a Return Merchandise Authorization (RMA) number. Pack the Product securely using a shipping carton. Please note that original boxes may be included, but are not designed to withstand the rigors of shipping without additional protection. Ship via a carrier that provides tracking and insurance for lost or damaged parcels, as Horizon is not responsible for merchandise until it arrives and is accepted at our facility. An Online Service Request is available at http://www.horizonhobby.com/content/_service-center_render-service-center. If you do not have internet access, please contact Horizon Product Support to obtain a RMA number along with instructions for submitting your product for service. When calling Horizon, you will be asked to provide your complete name, street address, email address and phone number where you can be reached during business hours. When sending product into Horizon, please include your RMA number, a list of the included items, and a brief summary of the problem. A copy of your original sales receipt must be included for warranty consideration. Be sure your name, address, and RMA number are clearly written on the outside of the shipping carton. NOTICE: Do not ship LiPo batteries to Horizon. If you have any issue with a LiPo battery, please contact the appropriate Horizon Product Support office. Warranty Requirements For Warranty consideration, you must include your original sales receipt verifying the proof-of-purchase date. Provided warranty conditions have been met, your Product will be serviced or replaced free of charge. Service or replacement decisions are at the sole discretion of Horizon. Non-Warranty Service Should your service not be covered by warranty, service will be completed and payment will be required without notification or estimate of the expense unless the expense exceeds 50% of the retail purchase cost. By submitting the item for service you are agreeing to payment of the service without notification. Service estimates are available upon request. You must include this request with your item submitted for service. Non-warranty service estimates will be billed a minimum of ½ hour of labor. In addition you will be billed for return freight. Horizon accepts money orders and cashier's checks, as well as Visa, MasterCard, American Express, and Discover cards. By submitting any item to Horizon for service, you are agreeing to Horizons Terms and Conditions found on our website http://www.horizonhobby.com/content/_service-center_render-service-center.
ATTENTION: The sale, warranty and service of JR products distributed by Horizon is limited to the geographic regions of North America, Central America, South America, and the Caribbean. JR products distributed by Horizon cannot be purchased in other regions and may not be compliant with applicable regulations. If non-compliant product is received by Horizon for service, it will not be serviced. Further, the sender will be responsible for arranging return shipment of the un-serviced Product, through a carrier of the sender's choice and at the sender's expense. Horizon will hold non-compliant Product for a period of 60 days from notification, after which it will be discarded. United States: Electronics and engines requiring inspection or repair should be shipped to the following address: Horizon Service Center 4105 Fieldstone Road Champaign, Illinois 61822 All other Products requiring warranty inspection or repair should be shipped to the following address: Horizon Product Support 4105 Fieldstone Road Champaign, Illinois 61822 Please call 877-504-0233 or e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.com with any questions or concerns regarding this product or warranty.
Modified: 11-13-2012
Remote Receiver DSM2[JRPRR121]
AR610 6-Channel DSMX Coated Air Receiver[SPMAR610]
AR6600T 6 Ch Air Integrated Telemetry Receiver[SPMAR6600T]
AR8010T 8CH Air Integrated Telemetry Receiver[SPMAR8010T]
JR DSM Neck Strap Adaptor: Silver[JRPA140]
Gimbal Stick Ends: 12X Short[JRPA144]
Transmitter Battery 2000mAh NiMH: 12X, 10X[JRPB5014]
Charger 9.6V 250mAh NiMH: 12X[JRPC225]
Tx Antenna Assembly: X9303, X9503, 12X[JRPA164]
JR DSM Neck Strap Adaptor: Red[JRPA141]
JR DSM Neck Strap Adaptor: Blue[JRPA142]
Gimbal Stick Ends: 12X Standard[JRPA143]