text:
The Haunted House, Part 6: The Ghost in Master B.'s Room
All the Year Round, A Weekly Journal, vol. 2, Christmas issue (1859)
Pages 27-31
NOTE: This entry is in draft form; it is currently undergoing the VSFP editorial process.
Introductory Note: "The Haunted House" is a portmanteau story written by Charles Dickens, Wilkie Collins, Sarah Smith, George Augustus Sala, Adelaide Proctor, and Elizabeth Gaskell. It was published as a Christmas special in Dickens's periodical All the Year Round. The story begins when the narrator decides to rent a house which is rumored to be haunted. After strange noises and unexplained disruptions frighten off his servants, the narrator decides to dismiss his staff and invite some friends to spend the holidays with him while they attempt to discover the true nature of the house's haunting.
"The Ghost In Master B's Room" is the narrator's reminiscence on loss, or "ghost" of his childhood. He relates the story of how, as a very young boy, he and his schoolmates formed a "harem," and details his conflicted feelings about his own wickedness.
Advisory: This story contains racist language, discussions of slavery, and suicidal ideation.
Serial Information
This entry was published as the sixth of eight parts:
- The Haunted House, Part 1: The Mortals in the House (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 2: The Ghost in the Clock Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 3: The Ghost in the Double Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 4: The Ghost in the Picture Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 5: The Ghost in the Cupboard Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 6: The Ghost in Master B.'s Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 7: The Ghost in the Garden Room (1859)
- The Haunted House, Part 8: The Ghost in the Corner Room (1859)
IT being now my own turn, I "took the word," as the French say, and went on:
When I established myself in the triangular garret which had gained so distinguished a reputation, my thoughts naturally turned to Master B. My speculations about him were uneasy and manifold. Whether his christian name was Benjamin, Bissextile (from his having been born in Leap Year), Bartholomew, or Bill. Whether the initial letter belonged to his family name, and that was Baxter, Black, Brown, Barker, Buggins, Baker, or Bird. Whether he was a foundling, and had been baptized B. Whether he was a lion-hearted boy, and B. was short for Briton, or for Bull. Whether he could possibly have been kith and kin to an illustrious lady who brightened my own childhood, and had come of the blood of the brilliant Mother Bunch?
With these profitless meditations I tormented myself much. I also carried the mysterious letter into the appearance and pursuits of the deceased; wondering whether he dressed in Blue, wore Boots (he couldn't have been Bald), was a boy of Brains, liked Books, was good at Bowling, had any skill as a Boxer, ever in his Buoyant Boyhood Bathed from a Bathing-machine at Bognor, Bangor, Bournemouth, Brighton, or Broadstairs, like a Bounding Billiard Ball?
So, from the first, I was haunted by the letter B.
It was not long before I remarked that I never by any hazard had a dream of Master B., or of anything belonging to him. But, the instant I awoke from sleep, at whatever hour of the night, my thoughts took him up, and roamed away, trying to attach his initial letter to something that would fit it and keep it quiet.
For six nights, I had been worried thus in Master B.'s room, when I began to perceive that things were going wrong.
The first appearance that presented itself was early in the morning, when it was but just daylight and no more. I was standing shaving at my glass, when I suddenly discovered, to my consternation and amazement, that I was shaving—not myself—I am fifty—but a boy. Apparently Master B.?
I trembled and looked over my shoulder; nothing there. I looked again in the glass, and distinctly saw the features and expression of a boy, who was shaving, not to get rid of a beard, but to get one. Extremely troubled in my mind, I took a few turns in the room, and went back to the looking-glass, resolved to steady my hand and complete the operation in which I had been disturbed. Opening my eyes, which I had shut while recovering my firmness, I now met in the glass, looking straight at me, the eyes of a young man of four or five and twenty. Terrified by this new ghost, I closed my eyes, and made a strong effort to recover myself. Opening them again, I saw, shaving his cheek in the glass, my father, who has long been dead. Nay, I even saw my grandfather too, whom I never did see in my life.
Although naturally much affected by these remarkable visitations, I determined to keep my secret, until the time agreed upon for the present general disclosure. Agitated by a multitude of curious thoughts, I retired to my room, that night, prepared to encounter some new experience of a spectral character. Nor was my preparation needless, for, waking from an uneasy sleep at exactly two o'clock in the morning, what were my feelings to find that I was sharing my bed, with the skeleton of Master B.!
I sprang up, and the skeleton sprang up also. I then heard a plaintive voice saying, "Where am I? What is become of me?" and, looking hard in that direction, perceived the ghost of Master B.
The young spectre was dressed in an obsolete fashion: or rather, was not so much dressed as put into a case of inferior pepper-and-salt cloth, made horrible by means of shining buttons. I observed that these buttons went, in a double row, over each shoulder of the young ghost, and appeared to descend his back. He wore a frill round his neck. His right hand (which I distinctly noticed to be inky) was laid upon his stomach; connecting this action with some feeble pimples on his countenance, and his general air of nausea, I concluded this ghost to be the ghost of a boy who had habitually taken a great deal too much medicine.
"Where am I?" said the little spectre, in a pathetic voice. "And why was I born in the Calomel days, and why did I have all that Calomel given me?"1Calomel is a type of purgative medicine.
I replied, with sincere earnestness, that upon my soul I couldn't tell him.
"Where is my little sister," said the ghost, "and where my angelic little wife, and where is the boy I went to school with?"
I entreated the phantom to be comforted, and above all things to take heart respecting the loss of the boy he went to school with. I represented to him that probably that boy never did, within human experience, come out well, when discovered. I urged that I myself had, in later life, turned up several boys whom I went to school with, and none of them had at all answered. I expressed my humble belief that that boy never did answer. I represented that he was a mythic character, a delusion, and a snare. I recounted how, the last time I found him, I found him at a dinner party behind a wall of white cravat, with an inconclusive opinion on every possible subject, and a power of silent boredom absolutely Titanic. I related how, on the strength of our having been together at "Old Doylance's," he had asked himself to breakfast with me (a social offence of the largest magnitude); how, fanning my weak embers of belief in Doylance's boys, I had let him in; and how, he had proved to be a fearful wanderer about the earth, pursuing the race of Adam with inexplicable notions concerning the currency, and with a proposition that the Bank of England should, on pain of being abolished, instantly strike off and circulate, God knows how many thousand millions of ten-and-sixpenny notes.
The ghost heard me in silence, and with a fixed stare. "Barber!" it apostrophised me when I had finished.
"Barber?" I repeated—for I am not of that profession.
"Condemned," said the ghost, "to shave a constant change of customers—now, me—now, a young man—now, thyself as thou art—now, thy father—now, thy grandfather; condemned, too, to lie down with a skeleton every night, and to rise with it every morning——"
(I shuddered on hearing this dismal announcement).2Original reads "announce ment."
"Barber! Pursue me!"
I had felt, even before the words were uttered, that I was under a spell to pursue the phantom. I immediately did so, and was in Master B.'s room no longer.
Most people know what long and fatiguing night journeys had been forced upon the witches who used to confess, and who, no doubt, told the exact truth—particularly as they were always assisted with leading questions, and the Torture was always ready. I asseverate that, during my occupation of Master B.'s room, I was taken by the ghost that haunted it, on expeditions fully as long and wild as any of those. Assuredly, I was presented to no shabby old man with a goat's horns and tail (something between Pan and an old clothesman), holding conventional receptions, as stupid as those of real life and less decent; but, I came upon other things which appeared to me to have more meaning.
Confident that I speak the truth and shall be believed, I declare without hesitation that I followed the ghost, in the first instance on a broomstick, and afterwards on a rocking-horse. The very smell of the animal's paint—especially when I brought it out, by making him warm—I am ready to swear to. I followed the ghost, afterwards, in a hackney coach; an institution with the peculiar smell of which, the present generation is unacquainted, but to which I am again ready to swear as a combination of stable, dog with the mange, and very old bellows. (In this, I appeal to previous generations to confirm or refute me.) I pursued the phantom, on a headless donkey: at least, upon a donkey who was so interested in the state of his stomach that his head was always down there, investigating it; on ponies, expressly born to kick up behind; on roundabouts and swings, from fairs; in the first cab—another forgotten institution where the fare regularly got into bed, and was tucked up with the driver.
Not to trouble you with a detailed account of all my travels in pursuit of the ghost of Master B., which were longer and more wonderful than those of Sindbad the Sailor, I will confine myself to one experience from which you may judge of many.
I was marvelously changed. I was myself, yet not myself. I was conscious of something within me, which has been the same all through my life, and which I have always recognised under all its phases and varieties as never altering, and yet I was not the I who had gone to bed in Master B.'s room. I had the smoothest of faces and the shortest of legs, and I had taken another creature like myself, also with the smoothest of faces and the shortest of legs, behind a door, and was confiding to him a proposition of the most astounding nature.
This proposition was, that we should have a Seraglio.3Seraglio is used in the Ottoman Empire to signify a large palace or official government building.
The other creature assented warmly. He had no notion of respectability, neither had I. It was the custom of the East, it was the way of the good Caliph Haroun Alraschid (let me have the corrupted name again for once, it is so scented with sweet memories!), the usage was highly laudable, and most worthy of imitation. "Oh, yes! Let us," said the other creature with a jump, "have a Seraglio."
It was not because we entertained the faintest doubts of the meritorious character of the Oriental establishment we proposed to import, that we perceived it must be kept a secret from Miss Griffin. It was because we knew Miss Griffin to be bereft of human sympathies, and incapable of appreciating the greatness of the great Haroun. Mystery impenetrably shrouded from Miss Griffin then, let us entrust it to Miss Bule.
We were ten in Miss Griffin's establishment by Hampstead Ponds; eight ladies and two gentlemen. Miss Bule, whom I judge to have attained the ripe age of eight or nine, took the lead in society. I opened the subject to her in the course of the day, and proposed that she should become the Favourite.
Miss Bule, after struggling with the diffidence so natural to, and charming in, her adorable sex, expressed herself as flattered by the idea, but wished to know how it was proposed to provide for Miss Pipson? Miss Bule—who was understood to have vowed towards that young lady, a friendship, halves, and no secrets, until death, on the Church Service and Lessons complete in two volumes with case and lock—Miss Bule said she could not, as the friend of Pipson, disguise from herself, or me, that Pipson was not one of the common.
Now, Miss Pipson, having curly light hair and blue eyes (which was my idea of anything mortal and feminine that was called Fair), I promptly replied that I regarded Miss Pipson in the light of a Fair Circassian.
"And what then?" Miss Bule pensively asked.
I replied that she must be inveigled by a Merchant, brought to me veiled, and purchased as a slave.
[The other creature had already fallen into the second male place in the State, and was set apart for Grand Vizier. He afterwards resisted this disposal of events, but had his hair pulled until he yielded].
"Shall I not be jealous?" Miss Bule inquired, casting down her eyes.
"Zobeide, no," I replied; "you will ever be the favourite Sultana; the first place in my heart, and on my throne, will be ever yours."
Miss Bule, upon that assurance, consented to propound the idea to her seven beautiful companions. It occurring to me, in the course of the same day, that we knew we could trust a grinning and good-natured soul called Tabby, who was the serving drudge of the house, and had no more figure than one of the beds, and upon whose face there was always more or less black-lead, I slipped into Miss Bule's hand after supper, a little note to that effect: dwelling on the black-lead as being in a manner deposited by the finger of Providence, pointing Tabby out for Mesrour, the celebrated chief of the Blacks of the Hareem.
There were difficulties in the formation of the desired institution, as there are in all combinations. The other creature showed himself of a low character, and, when defeated in aspiring to the throne, pretended to have conscientious scruples about prostrating himself before the Caliph; wouldn't call him Commander of the Faithful; spoke of him slightingly and inconsistently as a mere "chap;" said he, the other creature, "wouldn't play"—Play!—and was otherwise coarse and offensive. This meanness of disposition was, however, put down by the general indignation of an united Seraglio, and I became blessed in the smiles of eight of the fairest of the daughters of men.
The smiles could only be bestowed when Miss Griffin was looking another way, and only then in a very wary manner, for there was a legend among the followers of the Prophet that she saw with a little round ornament in the middle of the pattern on the back of her shawl. But, every day after dinner, for an hour, we were all together, and then the Favourite and the rest of the Royal Hareem competed who should most beguile the leisure of the Serene Haroun reposing from the cares of State—which were generally, as in most affairs of State, of an arithmetical character, the Commander of the Faithful being a fearful boggler at a sum.
On these occasions, the devoted Mesrour, chief of the Blacks of the Hareem, was always in attendance (Miss Griffin usually ringing for that officer, at the same time, with great vehemence), but never acquitted himself in a manner worthy of his historical reputation. In the first place, his bringing a broom into the Divan of the Caliph, even when Haroun wore on his shoulders the red robe of anger (Miss Pipson's pelisse), though it might be got over for the moment, was never to be quite satisfactorily accounted for. In the second place, his breaking out into grinning exclamations of "Lork you pretties!" was neither Eastern nor respectful. In the third place, when specially instructed to say "Bismillah!" he always said "Hallelujah!" This officer, unlike his class, was too good-humored altogether, kept his mouth open far too wide, expressed approbation to an incongruous extent, and even once—it was on the occasion of the purchase of the Fair Circassian for five hundred thousand purses of gold, and cheap too—embraced the Slave, the Favourite, and the Caliph, all round. (Parenthetically let me say God bless Mesrour, and may there have been sons and daughters on that tender bosom, softening many a hard day since!)
Miss Griffin was a model of propriety, and I am at a loss to imagine what the feelings of the virtuous woman would have been, if she had known, when she paraded us down the Hampstead-road two and two, that she was walking with a stately step at the dead of Polygamy and Mohamedanism. I believe that a mysterious and terrible joy with which the contemplation of Miss Griffin, in this unconscious state, inspired us, and a grim sense prevalent among us that there was a dreadful power in our knowledge of what Miss Griffin (who knew all things that could be learnt out of book) didn't know, were the mainspring of the preservation of our secret. It was wonderfully kept, but was once upon the verge of self-betrayal. The danger and escape occurred upon a Sunday. We were all ten ranged in a conspicuous part of the gallery at church, with Miss Griffin at our head—as we were every Sunday—advertising the establishment in an unsecular sort of way—when the description of Solomon in his domestic glory, happened to be read. The moment that monarch was thus referred to, conscience whispered me, "Thou, too, Haroun!" The officiating minister had a cast in his eye, and it assisted conscience by giving him the appearance of reading personally at me. A crimson blush, attended by a fearful perspiration, suffused my features. The Grand Vizier became more dead than alive, and the whole Seraglio reddened as if the sunset of Bagdad shone direct upon their lovely faces. At this portentous time the awful Griffin rose, and balefully surveyed the children of Islam. My own impression was, that Church and State had entered into a conspiracy with Miss Griffin to expose us, and that we should all be put into which sheets, and exhibited in the centre aisle. But, so Westerly—if I may be allowed the expression as opposite to Eastern associations—was Miss Griffin's sense of rectitude, that she merely suspected Apples, and we were saved.
I have called the Seraglio, united. Upon the question, solely, whether the Commander of the Faithful durst exercise a right of kissing in that sanctuary of the palace, were its peerless inmates divided. Zobeide asserted a counter-right in the Favourite to scratch, and the fair Circassian put her face, for refuge, into a green baize bag, originally designed for books. On the other hand, a young antelope of transcendent beauty from the fruitful plains of Camdentown (whence she had been brought, by traders, in the half-yearly caravan that crossed the intermediate desert after the holidays), held more liberal opinions, but stipulated for limiting the benefit of them to that dog, and son of a dog, the Grand Vizier—who had no rights, and was not in question. At length, the difficulty was compromised by the installation of a very youthful slave as Deputy. She, raised upon a stool, officially received upon her cheeks the salutes intended by the gracious Haroun for other Sultanas, and was privately rewarded from the coffers of the Ladies of the Hareem.
And now it was, at the full height of enjoyment of my bliss, that I became heavily troubled. I began to think of my mother, and what she would say to my taking home at Midsummer eight of the most beautiful of the daughters of men, but all unexpected. I thought of the number of beds we made up at our house, of my father's income, and of the baker, and my despondency redoubled. The Seraglio and malicious Vizier, divining the cause of their Lord's unhappiness, did their utmost to augment it. They professed unbounded fidelity, and declared that they would live and die with him. Reduced to the utmost wretchedness by these protestations of attachment, I lay awake, for hours at a time, ruminating on my frightful lot. In my despair, I think I might have taken an early opportunity of falling on my knees before Miss Griffin, avowing my semblance to Solomon, and praying to be dealt with according to the outraged laws of my country, if an unthought-of means of escape had not opened before me.
One day, we were out walking, two and two—on which occasion the Vizier had his usual instructions to take note of the boy at the turn-pike, and if he profanely gazed (which he always did) at the beauties of the Hareem, to have him bowstrung in the course of the night—and it happened that our hearts were veiled in gloom. An unaccountable action on the part of the antelope had plunged the State into disgrace. That charmer, on the representation that the previous day was her birthday, and that vast treasures had been sent in a hamper for its celebration (both baseless assertions), had secretly but most pressingly invited thirty-five neighbouring princes and princesses to a ball and supper: with a special stipulation that they were "not to be fetched till twelve." This wandering of the antelope's fancy, led to the surprising arrival at Miss Griffin's door, in divers equipages and under various escorts, of a great company in full dress, who were deposited on the top step in a flush of high expectancy, and who were dismissed in tears. At the beginning of the double knocks attendant on these ceremonies, the antelope had retired to a back attic, and bolted herself in; and at every new arrival, Miss Griffin had gone so much more and more distracted, that at last she had been seen to tear her front. Ultimate capitulation on the part of the offender, had been followed by solitude in the linen-closet, bread and water, and a lecture to all, of vindictive length, in which Miss Griffin had used the expressions: Firstly, "I believe you all of you knew of it;" Secondly, "Every one of you is as wicked as another;" Thirdly, "A pack of little wretches."
Under these circumstances, we were walking drearily along; and I especially, with my Moosulmaun responsibilities heavy on me, was in a very low state of mind; when a strange man accosted Miss Griffin, and, after walking on at her side for a little while and talking with her, looked at me. Supposing him to be a minion of the law, and that my hour was come, I instantly ran away, with a general purpose of making for Egypt.
The whole Seraglio cried out, when they saw me making off as fast as my legs would carry me (I had an impression that the first turning on the left, and round by the public-house, would be the shortest way to the Pyramids), Miss Griffin screamed after me, the faithless Vizier ran after me, and the boy at the turnpike dodged me into a corner, like a sheep, and cut me off. Nobody scolded me when I was taken and brought back; Miss Griffin only said, with a stunning gentleness, This was very curious! Why had I run away when the gentleman looked at me?
If I had had any breath to answer with, I dare say I should have made no answer; having no breath, I certainly made none. Miss Griffin and the strange man took me between them, and walked me back to the palace in a sort of state; but not at all (as I couldn't help feeling, with astonishment), in culprit state.
When we got there, we went into a room by ourselves, and Miss Griffin called in to her assistance, Mesrour, chief of the dusky guards of the Hareem. Mesrour, on being whispered to, began to shed tears.
"Bless you, my precious!" said that officer, turning to me; "your Pa's took bitter bad!"
I asked, with a fluttered heart, "Is he very ill?"
"Lord temper the wind to you, my lamb!" said the good Mesrour, kneeling down, that I might have a comforting shoulder for my head to rest on, "your Pa's dead!"
Haroun Alraschid took to flight at the words; the Seraglio vanished; from that moment, I never again saw one of the eight of the fairest of the daughters of men.
I was taken home, and there was Debt at home as well as Death, and we had a sale there. My own little bed was so superciliously looked upon by a Power unknown to me, hazily called "The Trade," that a brass coal-scuttle, a roasting-jack, and a birdcage, were obliged to be put into it to make a Lot of it, and then it went for a song. So I heard mentioned, and I wondered what song, and thought what a dismal song it must have been to sing!
Then, I was sent to a great, cold, bare, school of big boys; where everything to eat and wear was thick and clumpy, without being enough; where everybody, large and small, was cruel; where the boys knew all about the sale, before I got there, and asked me what I had fetched, and who had bought me, and hooted at me, "Going, going, gone!" I never whispered in that wretched place that I had been Haroun, or had had a Seraglio: for, I knew that if I mentioned my reverses, I should be so worried, that I should have to drown myself in the muddy pond near the playground, which looked like the beer.
Ah me, ah me! No other ghost has haunted the boy's room, my friends, since I have occupied it, than the ghost of my own childhood, the ghost of my own innocence, the ghost of my own airy belief. Many a time have I pursued the phantom: never with this man's stride of mine to come up with it, never with these man's hands of mine to touch it, never more to this man's heart of mine to hold it in its purity. And here you see me working out, as cheerfully and thankfully as I may, my doom of shaving in the glass a constant change of customers, and of lying down and rising up with the skeleton allotted to me for my mortal companion.
This story is continued in The Haunted House, Part 7: The Ghost in the Garden Room.
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Cosenza Hendrickson
Alexandra Malouf
Danny Daw
31 May 2021
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text:
E-Book Recreates a Monster
Frankenstein is back, but this time his story is interactive, as publishers scramble to "enhance" novels
In two weeks Frankenstein returns…and this time it's personal.
At least for you it could be. Mary Shelley's tale of monstrous obsession and an obsessive monster is being revived as an interactive book, specifically an app for iPads and iPhones. What that means isn't absolutely clear. But one of the people responsible for reconstituting the novel in digital form, author Dave Morris, says it's not simply a matter of a reader making choices that change the story. It's more nuanced than that, he insists.
While a reader of the interactive Frankenstein will make decisions that affect the story, they're "part of the interaction with the main characters," says Morris, and not just shifts in the narrative. Explains Morris: "As the plot unfolds, you will develop a personal relationship with the main characters. That's why we're describing it as interactive literature–it's truly a new kind of novel for the digital age."
That may sound like a lofty description of bells and whistles, but the London publisher, Profile Books, and inkle, the U.K.-based design firm that worked with Morris to interactivate Frankenstein, truly believe this will be a watershed moment in literature, the point at which readers will no longer be satisfied in going along for the ride with a book, but will start to want to brake and steer and maybe look under the hood.
Instant messages as dialogue
Now I'm sure many of you are asking, "Why would I want to work so hard?" Why reconstruct when so much joy can be had reading and imagining? A lot of people in the publishing business would agree with you. But they feel they have no choice. A recent Pew Internet study found that about one out of five Americans now say they've read an e-book. Last year U.S. consumers bought more than 48 million iPads, Android tablets or e-readers, twice as many as in 2010.
And even if the large majority of readers are still taking their e-books straight, publishers worry about falling behind the curve, particularly with a generation that embraces storytelling in tweets and IMs and expects lives to come with a mix tape. So Simon & Schuster plans to bring out 60 "enhanced" e-books this year; Penguin says it will release 50.
But "enhanced," it seems, can cover a lot of ground. With the digital version of Chopsticks a young adult novel published by Penguin in February, "readers" can flip through a photo album, watch video clips, listen to the favorite songs of the book's characters, see their instant messages. You even can consume the book in shuffle mode–that's right, you're able to change the order of content.
Why stop there? Other publishers are looking at ways to make book-reading more social than solitary. For instance, Panio Gianopoulos, co-founder of Backlit Fiction, speaks of a "literary Farmville." (Now there's a phrase I thought I'd never see.) That could mean readers voting to flesh out characters and storylines they like or they getting access to secret chapters if they encourage friends to read the book.
"Multimedia is more than a tie-in," Gianopoulos told Wired in a recent interview. "Done right, it becomes a new type of product entirely, a hybrid of book and film, or Facebook page and TV show, or something no one has even thought of yet."
Whatever it becomes, it's likely to feel less and less like a book. Truth is, no one knows how long it will take–if ever–for hybrid storytelling to go mainstream. Many enhanced e-books do have a heavy scent of CD-ROMs, and we know how they turned out.
Writer Laura Miller got to the heart of the matter in a recent piece for Salon.com when she raised the question of whether we can immerse ourselves in a narrative and be interactive at the same time.
"Narrative constructs this alternate reality in your imagination and narrative sustains it," she wrote. "What matters is not the story on the page–or the screen–but the story in your head. Interactive baubles pull a reader's attention back to the screen, serving as a reminder of the thing you want to go on forgetting: the fact that all of this is just made up, words on a page."
Miller, however, does see great potential in reinventing non-fiction books. There our aim is to understand more than imagine and so animations or videos that clarify concepts or illustrate a process really do enhance the experience. Who wouldn't want a step-by-step video with a cookbook?
Yet no one in the publishing business is sure where all this is headed. They do know that it's heading there fast and they're still trying to figure out what works where and how. Or as Ana Maria Allessi, vice president and publisher of HarperMedia puts it: "We're all still sort of creating radio for TV."
Video bonus: Here's the promotional video for the aforementioned Chopsticks. There's a book in there somewhere.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
When I revealed to a good friend of mine that our next port of call on the trip after Mongolia would be Palau he joked that we were perhaps the 55th and 56th people ever to fly such a route. Our check-in experience at Chenggis Khan International Airport seemed to jive with this suggestion. It was as if the check-in agents had never heard of the country and it took a handful of them plus a supervisor to get us checked in. They took our word for it that we didn't need a visa. The truth is, as Americans we can even go live and work there visa-free!
To get between the Mongolia and Palau, three flights were required. First we took Air China from Ulaanbaatar to Beijing. This was our second flight with Air China and once again, we weren't too impressed. The in-flight catering was pathetic (even by US standards) and the transit experience at Beijing was even worse. It took 90 minutes to get from our inbound aircraft to the lounge thanks to a remote stand, a slow bus, and a horrendous bottleneck at the transit counter.
From Beijing it was onward to Seoul with a much classier carrier: Asiana. Loads on the segment to Korea were very light… 13 passengers on board our Airbus A321 which can carry over 170 people. The Asiana business class lounge in Seoul was nearly deserted with only one other passenger to be found. I still refrained from banging on the grand piano. Our flight to Koror, the capital of Palau, left at 11:10PM and arrived in the midst of a thunderstorm at about 4AM the next morning.
Thanks to the short overnight flight, our first day in Palau was pretty much a write-off. We wandered town a bit and soaked in the island vibes. The island has a Hawaiian feel to it but it a very small place. The whole country has only about 20,000 people and of those, 13,000 live in the state of Koror.
Palau has been a sovereign nation since 1994 but has a "Compact of Free Association" with the United States that allows citizens to move freely between the two countries. It also gives them some other strange perks such as having US zip codes and being part of the US postal system. I made good use of this by sending a flat-rate box crammed with 8kg of stuff I had accumulated back to Florida. $14.95 to send 8kg most of the way around the world in under 10 days. Not bad, eh?
Palau's ties with the United States were evident when we took a trip to the grocery store. The stock was a mix of American and Japanese brands. Spam anyone?
On day 2 we arranged a snorkeling day-trip with IMPAC tours to the Rock Islands. This set us back $90 per person plus $35 each in park permits (used for multiple days) and took to some of the Palau's headlining attractions. The Rock Island archipelago is made up of thousands of limestone islets which have been worn away over the millenia. Most of them are sharply undercut by the lapping waves and almost look like mushrooms at low tide.
After one round of snorkeling we boated to one of the islands that has a marine lake. A marine lake is a sinkhole in the center of the island which is connected to the surrounding ocean through the island's porous rock. The result? A unique and very rare salt-water aquatic environment. Some of Palau's marine lakes hold millions of harmless jellyfish whose stingers have evolved away thanks to a lack of predators.
A short 10 minute hike from the boat was necessary to get to the lake. We swam out a good ways and before we knew it we were surrounded by thousands of pulsating peach-colored jellyfish. The biggest of them weren't much larger than a softball and it was interesting to be able to gently cup them in our hands. As far as the eye could see it was nothing but jellyfish slowly pulsing away. This was definitely an other-worldly experience. Sadly neither of us had an underwater camera with us so the only photos I have of the jellies are from a friend we met the next day.
After Jellyfish Lake we made a lunch stop at one of the nearby beaches. The Rock Islands are all part of a state park and on many of the beaches you can find nice picnic huts and even bathrooms – you don't see luxuries like that too often in this part of the world! A large tour boat was "parked" at the beach but it was still peaceful enough.
In the afternoon it was more snorkeling. My favorite part was snorkeling in amongst the mangrove roots along the shore – all sorts of little fishies call the roots home! We also stopped at a lagoon called Milky Way. The bottom is covered in a slimy limestone-based goo that they said was good for our skin. Honestly, it reminded me quite a lot of the white paste found on the bottom of Iceland's Blue Lagoon spa!
As compared to Easter Island and the Cooks, eating out in Palau was dirt cheap. We talked to a guy at the tourist office and he filled us in on the local joints. We found a nice casual place called Emeimelei Restaurant that served up all sorts of island fare plus sweet tea (with free refills!) that made me feel like I was back at home. Dinner for two for $10. It was a good thing food was cheap because our accommodations didn't offer any sort of cooking facilities! Speaking of which, we stayed at a place called Guest Lodge for $65/night which was the cheapest place we could identify.
On day 3 I went diving with a company called Fish & Fins and Amy joined the tour as a non-diver. Diving in Palau is very expensive – my two-tank day of diving came to $190 (in comparison, a three-tank dive in Malaysia set me back about $100). Weather was a mixed bag, it was cloudy in the morning and rainy in the afternoon. Sadly, heavy rain overnight made underwater visibility quite poor but it was still some great diving. Unlike many of the island destinations in SE Asia, Palau is spotlessly clean and the Palauans seem to be very responsible towards the environment. I didn't see a single plastic bottle or grocery bag the whole day.
We rented an underwater camera for the day. I found that it is surprisingly difficult to use a camera while diving. Most of the really blue photos in the album came from my attempts with the camera, the better shots came from fellow divers (thanks guys!). I ended up using the camera for one dive and then Amy used it for snorkeling during my second dive. Best part of the diving? Manta rays!
Kayaking was on the agenda for our fourth day on Palau. We rented a kayak from IMPAC and just paddled the waters near Koror. Even though we were close to the biggest city in the country, it was easy to get away from the development and enjoy kayaking around the limestone islets. We took turns snorkeling from the kayak and found the reef to be pretty good although not as nice as the places our tours took us. The double kayak cost $35 for the day which makes it one of the cheaper day activities.
Our last day in Palau was spent taking care of the usual errands (like writing postcards). We also made an attempt at getting our passports refilled with more pages but we failed. They moved the US Embassy since our guidebook was printed and the new location was way out of walking range. Luckily, a nice local gave us a lift back to town after our frustrating walk to the old location.
Palau isn't cheap but it is certainly a beautiful place. If I had to do it again, I would try to meet more locals. The locals we interacted with were very friendly and proud of their country and I suspect that might be the key to experiencing Palau on the cheap!


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ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) — Anchorage Mayor Dave Bronson gained national attention this summer when he proposed buying one-way airfare out of Alaska's largest city for anyone without housing who wanted to leave before winter.
Now, with the first snow just weeks away, those free tickets are nowhere in sight and the city is scrambling to pull together a grab bag of housing options for its more than 3,000 unsheltered residents. The city's mass shelter in a sports arena closed after complaints from neighbors about bad behavior and bickering between the city's liberal Assembly and conservative mayor killed hopes for a new permanent shelter and navigation center to take its place.
The Anchorage Assembly just approved $4 million in funds and will vote on additional elements of an emergency plan next week. City leaders — who estimate they still need to find up to 450 winter beds — say they are confident they have enough emergency housing ready, but the mood on the streets is grim.
"A lot of people are going to freeze," said Scott Gibson, who is preparing to spend his second Alaska winter outside. Someone recently destroyed Gibson's tent and stole most of what was inside. Now everything he owns fits in a backpack.
"I have nothing," he said, as he tried to make some money repairing an old car at a homeless encampment across from the city library.
Cold snaps can plunge temperatures to minus 20 degrees Fahrenheit (minus 29 degrees Celsius) for days in Anchorage, where winds whip off Cook Inlet.
Anchorage last winter had a record 24 deaths outdoors among the homeless population, with 11 fatalities occurring in the winter months between October 2022 and April 2023, said Alexis Johnson, the city's homeless director. The city began keeping records in 2017.
Alaska's biggest city has an estimated 3,150 homeless individuals and enough room in shelters for all but about 775 people, Johnson said. The city recently brought four more housing facilities, which could create space for another 310 people, but is still seeking winter housing for an estimated 400 to 450 people.
By renting hotel rooms, Johnson hopes to limit the capacity of a mass winter homeless shelter to no more than 150 people — one of the Assembly's stipulations when releasing the emergency funds. The city wants to use a recently vacated administration building as a makeshift low-barrier shelter, Johnson said.
"We are executing as fast as we can to get that done," the mayor said.
The assembly last week also awarded a $1.3 million grant to the Anchorage Affordable and Housing Land Trust, which will need to match the funding to rehabilitate vacant and abandoned properties for about 40 new housing units. They want to start transitioning people out of winter shelters in April.
Assembly member Felix Rivera said the solution just can't be standing up another warehouse-style mass shelter, but must include a permanent shelter and an early path to transition to longer-term housing. The new units in vacant or abandoned properties will kickstart that effort, he said.
With Alaska's extra-short summer construction season, "there must be a lot of progress made between now and April 1" to avoid a repeat of the rush for emergency housing next winter, Rivera said.
Bronson in July suggested it would be cheaper to fly homeless people to other states or elsewhere in Alaska than to house them for the winter. The unfunded proposal drew angry rebukes from mayors in California and Hawaii and skepticism from many in Anchorage's own unsheltered community.
"I'm not trying to get rid of people to get rid of them," Bronson said in an interview this week. "I'm trying to get people to a solution where they don't freeze to death."
During the pandemic, Anchorage configured the roughly 6,000-seat Sullivan Arena to be a mass-care facility. It has served more than 500 homeless people in the winters until city officials decided to return it to its original purpose, hosting concerts and hockey games.
Homeless encampments sprang up all over the city, including near Anchorage's historic train depot used by thousands of tourists this summer.
Political tension between the liberal-leaning Assembly and the conservative mayor over policy and process has slowed progress on what was to be a new shelter on the city's east side. Work stopped after Bronson approved the contract without Assembly approval, and the governing body wound up paying the contractor nearly $2.5 million to settle a dispute over work already completed.
Anchorage, population 300,000, has 40% of the state's population but 65% of Alaska's homeless population, Bronson said, adding that the city has spent $161 million on the homeless crisis since 2020.
Greg Smith, a homeless resident visiting friends at the camp above the depot, said last winter, he wrapped blankets and plastic around his tent, which is warmed by a little heater.
"What do we have to show for it? Nothing," Smith said of the money spent by city leaders.
"Everybody shares and huddles together," he said, "and you make it through winter."
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Sponsored by SIAM Activity Group on Financial Mathematics and Engineering.
This conference is being held jointly with the 2012 SIAM Annual Meeting (AN12)
SIAM Presents ... Featured Lectures from our Archives
Most of the Invited and Prize Lectures, as well as selected minisymposia and the tutorial, from the 2012 Conference on Financial Mathematics and Engineering in Minneapolis have been captured and are available as slides with synchronized audio. In addition there are PDFs of the slides available for printing. View presentation slides with synchronized audio.
Connect with other attendees and find roommates on Facebook here.
If you are tweeting about the conference, please use the designated hashtag to enable other attendees to keep up with the Twitter conversation and to allow better archiving of our conference discussions. The hashtag for this meeting is #SIAMFM12.Organizing Committee
Organizing Committee Co-chairs
Rama Cont, Columbia University, USA & CNRS, France
Mike Ludkovski, University of California, Santa Barbara, USA
Organizing Committee
Nicole El Karoui, Université Pierre & Marie Curie, Paris, France
Jim Gatheral, Baruch College, CUNY, New York, USA
Kay Giesecke, Stanford University, USA (AN12 liaison)
Roger Lee, University of Chicago, USA
Jin Ma, University of Southern California, USA
Alexander Schied, University of Mannheim, Germany
Nizar Touzi, Ecole Polytechnique, France
The Activity Group on Financial Mathematics and Engineering focuses on research and practice in financial mathematics, computation, and engineering. Its goals are to foster collaborations among mathematical scientists, statisticians, computer scientists, computational scientists, and researchers and practitioners in finance and economics, and to foster collaborations in the use of mathematical and computational tools in quantitative finance in the public and private sector. The activity group promotes and facilitates the development of financial mathematics and engineering as an academic discipline.
Funding Agency
SIAM and the Conference Organizing Committee wish to extend their thanks and appreciation to the U.S. National Science Foundation for its support of this conference.
- Systemic Risk and Financial Stability
- Statistical Modeling of Financial Data
- Mathematical Models of Limit Order Markets
- Stochastic Analysis and Mathematical Finance
- Credit Risk Modeling
- Liquidity Risk and Counterparty Risk
- Pricing and Hedging of Derivatives
- Energy Markets, Commodity Markets and Emissions Trading
- Computational Finance: PDEs and Monte Carlo Simulation
- High-Dimensional Problems in Finance
- Stochastic Volatility Models and Jump Processes
- Stochastic Control and Optimal Investment
Important Deadlines
January 9, 2012: Minisymposium proposals The minisymposium deadline has been extended to January 30, 2012.
January 30, 2012: Abstracts for contributed and minisymposium speakers
January 23, 2012: SIAM Student Travel Award and Post-doc/Early Career Travel Award Applications
June 8, 2012 Deadline Extended to Monday, June 11 Disconnect time is 4:00 PM EDT
June 8, 2012 Deadline Extended to Monday, June 18


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Tourist Highlight
The Marktkirche - the church at the market place - was built in the 14th century
The marketplace was at the very centre of urban expansion in Hannover. Merchants and craftsmen used to live around here. In the 14th century, the Marktkirche ("The Church at the Marketplace") was built here. Together with the Old Town Hall to the right they are considered to be the southernmost specimens of the "North German neo-Gothic" style. Just as the tower reached half of its planned height, the construction had to be stopped due to shortages in the town's coffers. "The builders be faint and taken of the sickness", reports contemporary chronicle. For financial reasons, a shortened spire was mounted without further ado (which became very popular and was imitated widely). Unchanged in style, the Marktkirche was rebuilt in 1952. The portal with scenes from the saddest chapter of German history was designed by Gerhard Marcks.
Even many of the well-informed citizens of Hannover are oblivious to the fact that the "Deutsche Michel" (a nickname the Germans often give to themselves) is actually buried here. He was by no means just a legendary figure. His name was General Johann Michael von Obentraut, and he was leading the Danish and German army against Tilly when he was mortally wounded on 25 October 1625. This hero of the Thirty Years War was known as "der deutsche Michel" to his contemporaries.


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Deployable Side Steps Kit - 18MY - Pre 21MY
These smart, practical steps make it easier to get in and out of the vehicle. Neatly stowed under the sills, the side steps automatically deploy as soon as the door is opened, or when activated by the key fob. They stow automatically when the door is closed. The side steps are sensitive to obstructions. Automatic mode can be overridden to allow access to the roof when the doors are closed. The deployable side steps are compatible with front mudflaps and feature a stainless steel finish with laser etched Jaguar branding.18MY - Pre 21MY.Recommend fitted with front mudflaps to protect against the build up of snow or ice in harsh climates. Only applicable for vehicles fitted with DAB, Sirius XM, HD Radio, SD Navigation or InControl Touch Pro.Fitting of side steps may affect the all terrain capability of the vehicle.
Price: R30 534,00
Part Number: T4A12780,T4A12783,T4A15374,T4A16372,T4A14752,T4A30503


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Working with Text in HTML
How to Specify Text Size
How to Specify Text Color
How to Specify Text Fonts
How to Format Text
How to Preformat Text
How to Control Line Breaks
How to Use Special Text Characters
The real value of the World Wide Web is information. If the Web is nothing else, it's an amazing and diverse source of information. A true reflection of the people who feed the information into the vast machine, some of the available information is good, and some of it is bad. Some is profoundly important, and some is ridiculously useless. And of course, it all depends on the perspectives of the Web author and the Web surfer. What I find interesting might bore you to tears. What you find entertaining, I might find offensive.
You can find pictures on the Web to show you information. There are movies on the Web so that you can watch information move. And you can seek out audio on the Web so that you can hear information. But by far the most common form information takes is the written word. There are millions of words on the Web. They are constantly being added, continually being revised. These words are written in virtually every language spoken by the human tongue. And regardless of the language the words come from, the topic they talk about, or the ideological slant that shades them, all these words have one thing in common: Each was put there by humans (or at least by a machine built by humans).
And what all these humans know how to do is to format their HTML so that those words show up in your browser. As I mentioned in Part 1, "Getting Started," some people use WYSIWYG editors to format the words; others code the HTML themselves. The second is the group you'll fall into by the time you're done working through the tasks in this part.
This part shows you how to work with font size, color, and typeface. You'll learn how to make bold text and italic text. (I might even show you how to make italic text that's bold!) You'll learn how to make line breaks without creating a new paragraph. Don't worry; you'll learn how to work with paragraphs in Part 3, "Working with Paragraphs."
Finally, you'll learn about some special problems that HTML introduces when you're working with text. For instance, consider the less-than symbol. You've already learned that it's an important symbol in HTML because it tells the browser that it should expect an HTML tag. So what do you do when you want to write a mathematical equation like this: 7 < 10? I'll show you in Task 7, "How to Use Special Text Characters."
How to Specify Text Size
There are a number of reasons you might want to change the size of the text on all or part of your Web page. You might want some text to stand out. Maybe your target audience is older, and you know that older people sometimes have trouble reading small text. Whatever your reason, you can use the techniques taught in this task to resize text on your HTML pages.
The Browser Still Rules
The browser has a great deal of control over the way it displays your page. As an example, Internet Explorer gives the viewer the power to override any text size, style, or color specifications you make in your HTML. To see this in Internet Explorer, choose Tools, Internet Options, and then click the Accessibility button. In the Accessibility dialog box, you can set the browser to ignore several different things. No matter how hard you work, the ultimate power still lies in the hands of the Web surfers because the tools they have to override your settings outweigh those you have to create them in the first place. In reality, very few people invoke these weapons. After all, most people are interested in nice-looking Web pages, and as long as you're making good-looking Web pages, you give them little incentive to override your decisions. Still, be aware that the possibility exists.
Add the  Tag Pair
Add the size Attribute
Absolute or Relative Size
Change the Base Font Size
Introducing the  tag and, of course, its sidekick, the  tag. You use this tag pair to control the look of your text. Be aware that some browsers don't recognize this tag pair, although the major ones do. To control the size, color, and typeface of your text, type ....
  <title>Working with the Font Tag</title>    Here is text within the font tag pair.
You add attributes to the  tag in exactly the same way as you've added attributes to tags in earlier tasks. Type . You'll specify the value of the font in the next step.
  <title>Working with the Font Tag</title>    Here is text within the font tag pair. The size attribute has been added, but the value has not yet been specified.
You can specify an absolute or relative size for text. To specify an absolute size, type , where X is a number from 1 to 7. The default is 3, the size you'll get if you don't specify the size attribute. To specify a relative size, type . Relative sizes are always based on the default size of 3, regardless of any absolute size you might have set earlier, so if you want a size of 2, type either  or .
  <title>Working with the Font Tag</title>    Here the value for the size attribute has been set to "4", one higher than the default. I could also specify a value of "+1" to achieve the same result.
As mentioned in Step 3, the default size for text is 3. You can change that default with the <basefont> attribute. To specify a new default size, type <basefont size="X"> where X is between 1 and 7. Now any relative sizes you specify in the  tag will be based on the size you specified in the <basefont> tag.
  <title>Working with the Font Tag </title>   <basefont size="4"> Notice that here I use the basefont tag pair to set the base font size to "4". In the font tag, I use the size attribute to set the font size to "-2". I could achieve the same results with a font size of "2".  </basefont>


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Archangel Gabriel via Marlene Sweltishoff
November 17, 2011
Beloved Ones,
I would like to have discourse with you on the quality of Love known as surrender. This quality entails the letting go of egoic justifications about how a situation should be and instead, allowing your higher power to take over the unfolding of this situation in the fullness of time. It requires faith in your higher power and the important quality of trust. By surrendering your need to control the situation you open yourself up to possibilities you may not have considered that are better by far, and will result in the highest and most happiest outcome for you.
To surrender means foregoing the need to judge how One opened themselves up to this occurrence in their lives and feeling the constant need to check in and see how it is unfolding. By surrendering the need to control, you allow all aspects from all dimensions to bring to fruition that which has been set for you by your Higher Self. Your Higher Self always works for your highest good and highest outcome. By allowing this wise and loving part of yourself to bring forth the next step on your journey, you are in effect saying, "not my will but thine be done in and through me".
This opens up the way for many wondrous and magical synchronicities to manifest for you as you walk your Path and will accelerate your progress in grace and ease. When there is no resistance to what is occurring, many potential pathways can be forthcoming that will bring the optimum effect to the situation. By being patient while this unfolding is occurring, many delightful happenings can take place. By remaining in a place of peace, harmony, trust and faith the lines of manifestation have the greatest potential to come forth from the Universe on your behalf.
There are also many times in One's life where the quality of surrender will bring forth great blessings to you. Each time surrender is made to your higher aspects, a line of energy and power is established that will enrich your daily life experience in unexpected and joyous ways. The quality of Love called surrender brings forth an opening, an allowance by your human self to receive the greatest blessings in your daily life. Life then becomes a great adventure of happy expectation and waiting for the miracles that are transpiring for you.
There are many instances in life which would be greatly benefited by this quality of surrender. Each time there comes a clash of expectations between you and a Beloved that do not harmonize, employing this quality for the higher good of the relationship can also bring in many blessings for you. Too often, the human ego gets caught up in the need to prove Oneself right instead of trying to see through the Beloved's eyes, for when One can see through the eyes of their Beloved, a choice for love can be made and a win-win situation emerges.
Rarely do those around you deliberately desire to be contrary and more often than not, any difficulty that develops is the result of miscommunication and misunderstanding between you. By either or both of you choosing to surrender in any disagreement to the feeling of tender Love and the desire to give to the Beloved that which makes them happy, and when you see your Beloved blossom and glow with confidence and self assurance, the wisdom of employing this quality of Love becomes very clear. When your Beloveds are happy, then you are happy, your home is happy and harmony and peace reign within them.
Be at peace, Beloved Ones, ponder on these words and allow yourself to surrender to the flow of Love that is now being directed to each and every one of you as you choose to make those around you happy.
I AM Archangel Gabriel
©2011 Marlene Swetlishoff
Permission is given to share this message as long as the message is posted in its entirety and nothing has been changed, or altered in any way and Scribe's credit, copyright and website is included. www.therainbowscribe.com
Thank you for including the above website link when posting this message


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Based on a blog post originally posted here by Taras Glek, Firefox Developer.
Firefox 7 marks a turning point in how we measure Firefox performance. Traditionally we measured Firefox performance on individual developer machines and our build & release infrastructure. However it turns out synthetic benchmarks do not correspond to real-world Firefox usage: it is difficult to model a "typical" computer in a lab environment. Surprisingly slow consumer hardware, changes in usage patterns, preinstalled bloatware all affect Firefox performance in surprising ways.
Firefox 7 telemetry will prompt users to opt-in to reporting performance data to Mozilla. This data will supplement our existing benchmarking infrastructure to help us optimize future Firefox releases. Telemetry performance metrics are very lightweight and will not negatively impact Firefox performance.
In addition to transmitting data via SSL, Mozilla privacy team worked tirelessly to ensure that no personally-identifiable information is sent via telemetry. Whereas many other software projects stamp this kind of data with a unique per-user id, we opted for a per-session id which is reset every time the browser restarts. Telemetry is also disabled while in private-browsing mode.
The following telemetry data will be gathered in Firefox 7:
Memory usage
CPU core count
Cycle collection times
Startup speed
Use the about:telemetry extension to check on your browser performance. The following screenshot shows how to enable telemetry:
I'm very excited that Firefox finally joins the ranks of cars, airplanes and other software projects in making performance decisions based on real evidence gathered in the wild.