text:
Registered: Nov 2003
Location: Account Restricted
Account Restricted
T'Challa no longer lives, he is my puppet!
Registered: Oct 2003
Location: London
I know what you're thinking punk. You're thinking: "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, I've forgotten myself in all this excitement. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: "Do I feel lucky?" Well, do ya punk?
Registered: Jun 2003
Location: On my way to the CageAccount Restricted
All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I **** like you wanna ****, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.
Registered: Sep 2003
Location: L.A.
Registered: Nov 2003
Location: United States
quote:Originally posted by Rogue Jedi
boba is 10 times the bounty hunter jango was.
Registered: Aug 2001
Location: New Jersey
May the force be with you
Registered: Apr 2003
Location: Indiana
Only The Strong Survive
Registered: Feb 2004
Location: Every Shadow
Registered: Jul 2001
Registered: Sep 2000
Location: Chelmsford, Essex, UKCo-Admin
"We've got maybe seconds before Darth Rosenberg grinds everybody into Jawa burgers and not one of you buds has the midi-chlorians to stop her!"
"You've never had any TINY bit of sex, have you?"
Registered: Oct 2003
Location: Finland
Respect Namor - SEVENTY pages of pure Namor coolness. Respect Spider-Man!
quote:Originally posted by yerssot
for GL, boba died in ROTJ
but writers got him back for a few books, mainly because imho, they were way to lazy to come up with a decent foe
so, they included him in the game too to have a bit of a laugh
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You are currently browsing the tag archive for the 'dependable' tag.
Our Judge: Rebecca Young
Rebecca Young is an award winning journalist who has also worked in public relations and marketing and publishing. She is working on her first book: The Pessimists Guide to Optimistic Thinking. She also blogs for family and friends at http://www.youngsontherun.blogspot.com/.
As a member of the Bahrain Writers' Circle Rebecca is an active member of our Creative Writers' Workshop group and has won almost all of our monthly challenges. She graciously agreed to judge this month's challenges and has provided helpful and detailed feedback to all our entrants.
Thank you Rebecca!
This was the prompt for the challenge story to be completed within 2000 words:
The prompt:
"The plane lifted off the runway and into the air. The person next to you turns and quietly whispers in your ear, "I know I'm supposed to keep this a secret, but I absolutely must tell someone."
And here are Rebecca's winners:
1st Place Simi Kamboj
If I Could Tell You
We are withholding Simi's story as she is developing it further.
2nd Place Kelli Horner
The Secret
Eliza counted the money in her wallet- $42.58. She had splurged on a coffee and a blueberry muffin at the airport Starbucks. It was the first time she'd had Starbucks since Craig left four years ago. Her per diem was fifty dollars, which seemed a bit much, but she wasn't going to complain. She had already figured out that she could pocket forty if she ate the continental breakfast at the hotel, drank the coffee at the training center and stuck to fast food for lunch and dinner. One-hundred and twenty bucks could get Colby a new pair of shoes and Alex a new winter coat. Plus she could pay the gas bill for the month.
She sighed and buckled her seat belt. Eliza knew that she was lucky for this opportunity. There were people who had been at the office a lot longer than her but her boss, her friend Pammy, knew Eliza was struggling to make ends meet. She offered Eliza the trip as a much-needed break from her role as single mom of three, with the added bonus of paying her overtime. It would mean filling the refrigerator, paying the rent she owed and guaranteeing that the water would stay on for another month. Pammy was her savior.
Eliza closed her eyes, determined to forget about her financial problems for a bit and maybe even sleep a little. The flight was nowhere near full and the passengers seemed to have stopped boarding. She smiled, grateful to not be sitting beside anyone. She had just started to put her feet up on the seat beside her and open a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice when an airline employee helping an old man down the aisle stopped beside her.
The old man seemed lost inside his too-big suit jacket. He reminded her of the old man from Up– big nose, bigger glasses, a shock of white hair on his head. The employee gently turned him toward Eliza and, pointing to the aisle seat said, "Mr. Watkins? We're here." The old man, who had been watching his shuffling feet, slowly lifted his head and adjusted his glasses. He looked confused and it seemed to take him a moment to remember where he was. The employee handed him his ticket and the fog seemed to lift.
"Right, sorry," he said, cheerfully and allowed the employee to help him into the seat and to buckle his seat belt. The old man smiled broadly at Eliza and she couldn't help but smile back at him.
The plane lifted off the runway and into the air. Just as Eliza unbuckled her seatbelt, planning to move to the window seat, for a little extra room, the old man touched her arm, startling her. His eyes were twinkling and he smiled a wide smile.
"I know I'm supposed to keep this a secret, but I absolutely must tell someone." He looked around as if to check if someone was listening. Eliza smiled politely and waited, hoping she wouldn't have to humor him for too long. "I've just won the lottery." The old man giggled and covered his mouth, like a schoolgirl.
Eliza smiled politely and said, "Well, that's wonderful. Congratulations." She continued her move to the adjacent seat when he took her hand, stopping her. His hand was cool and papery. His grip was tighter than she would have expected.
"I've never even played the lottery before. Did it this once, on a whim. My buddy Arnold plays every week, the same numbers, the same order. 'Give it a go, Eddie,' he said. That's me, Eddie Watkins," he said, slowly offering his hand across the seat. "So I did. I played my birthday, my wife's birthday and my daughter's birthday. I almost played our wedding date but then had a feeling that I should stick to birthdays. Good thing I did, huh?" Eddie giggled again.
Without prompting, Eddie started talking. Eliza found herself drawn into conversation with him. When the drinks trolley rolled by, and Eliza asked for the complimentary water, he offered to buy her a sandwich and a coffee (whoever heard of paying for coffee on an airplane, he muttered). He told her how he and his sister had practically raised themselves after his dad walked out. His mom was working three jobs, just to keep them from starving. "That's where I'm going now," he told her. "My sister's. With all this money, I want to finally give her all the things we never had growing up."
His sister April was younger than him but already in a home. "It's a real nice place- it looks like a real house," he admitted. "But I wouldn't want to live there. A lot of rules and the cook burns everything. No satellite TV, either. I don't know what I'd do without my Jeopardy," he laughed. "Oh listen to me, droning on. What about you, young lady? Do you have a family?"
Eliza, somewhat reluctantly because she didn't really want to bother him with her problems, said her husband had walked out as well and since then, it had been a real struggle to keep her and the boys afloat. She had considered taking a second job, but when she mentioned it to Pammy, she had suddenly gotten a 'well-deserved' raise.
As she was telling Eddie about Alex begging to go on the class camping trip (which should be free because it's camping, for God's sake) suddenly, as though a light had been switched off, Eddie looked confused. Eliza stifled a laugh; he looked like a little lost puppy dog, looking at her with those big eyes, head tilted to the side. He was quiet for a few moments and Eliza began to feel nervous.
"Eddie?" she said gently. "Are you okay?"
He looked at her and smiled a weak smiled and chuckled, but it was almost as if he didn't recognize her. Eliza watched with growing concern as he looked around. She could see the panic building in his eyes, his mouth dropping open, his hands trembling slightly. He looked at his own hands and saw the ticket he was still clutching and seemed to visibly relax. And just as quickly, his eyes lit up again, he smiled laughed a genuine laugh.
"Tell me about your kids? Me and my wife, God rest her soul, we never had any babies of our own. How many do you have?" Eddie asked.
Eliza started to tell him about her boys and then hesitated. "I thought you said you had a daughter?" she asked, thinking she had misunderstood.
"Oh no. Edith wanted children so bad, but it just never happened. One of my life's biggest regrets, though I couldn't do anything about it," he shook his head wistfully. "But tell me all about your boys."
Eliza told Eddie all about the boys- how headstrong Alex was and how, even at seven, he had taken on the role of 'man of the house.' Colby was her artist, her dreamer, always painting and coloring, seeing the good in everyone he met. The baby, Cash, was nothing but spoiled rotten, she said, laughing.
"A mother's love," Eddie mused. "I can see it all, right here in your face. You just want to take care of them. I know you're doing your best." Without warning, Eliza teared up at Eddie's kind words. Eliza took his hand in hers again.
They continued to talk, telling each other stories about their families and the lives they'd lived. Before she knew it, the pilot announced that they would be landing in a few minutes and Eddie began to fumble around in his jacket pocket. Pulling out his checkbook, he wrote a check and folded it up.
"Young lady, I'd like you to have this. I don't know if it will help but I hope you'll accept a little generosity from an old man. There's no way I can even hope to spend this amount of money in the time I have left on this good earth. I might as well share it around, wouldn't you say?" He smiled and handed her the check.
Five million dollars, it read. Five million dollars?! Her breath caught in her throat and she covered her mouth to hide a gasp. Tears welled in her eyes and she pressed the check to her chest.
"Oh Eddie, oh I can't take this," she whispered, pressing the check back into his hand.
"You can and you will, young lady. It's not a request, it's an order," he smiled.
"This is too much," she said.
"Please, take it. It would make an old man so happy," he seemed to plead.
"Eddie, this is unbelievable. I cannot even begin to thank you." She leaned in awkwardly for a hug, trying to turn sideways with her seatbelt still fastened. Eddie suddenly looked frightened and shrank back. "Oh!" Eliza exclaimed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I mean… I was only trying to…"
He stared and, again, gave her a chuckle and a dismissive wave, but almost before she'd had time to figure out what she had done wrong, he smiled brightly. He took her hand in his and held it until they landed. "Come and meet April," he said. "She'll be waiting for me."
Eliza helped Eddie off the plane to the waiting wheelchair. She walked up the jet way with him, with one hand in his and one hand clutching the check inside her wool coat. Her smile stretched from ear to ear. She was already planning vacations and new wardrobes and savings accounts. There would be trips to the water park that summer, maybe even a week at the beach. It was the beginning of a wonderful new life for her and the boys.
Eliza accompanied Eddie all the way to the baggage claim area. A woman Eliza's age approached them as they reached their carousel.
"April," Eddie said, reaching out his hands. Eliza stopped, confused. He had said his sister was younger, but this woman had to be thirty to forty years younger than Eddie. How could she be his sister?
"Daddy!" the young woman exclaimed.
"Daddy?" Eliza and Eddie asked at the same time. April's face fell and she glanced back at a man standing beside the carousel.
"Excuse me," Eliza said, offering her hand. "I'm Eliza. I met Eddie on the plane. But I'm a little confused. He said his sister April was meeting him today."
"I'm his daughter. My name is April. Since his sister June died a few years ago, he's gotten confused and sometimes thinks I'm her. It's gotten worse lately, which is why I convinced him to fly out here to live with us. Me and my husband."
"Oh," said Eliza. Then, as the realization began to dawn on her, she gripped the check harder, tighter, afraid to ask, but knowing she must know. "Is it… does he have… ?" she started, letting the question hang in the air.
April smiled sadly. "He wrote you a check, didn't he?" Eliza nodded. "That started just after June died as well. He became convinced that he won the MegaMillions. He's been writing checks left and right, to anyone and everyone who takes a moment to talk to him. The truth is, I cancelled his checking account over a year ago. If I didn't, he would have been bankrupt and writing bad checks all over North Carolina."
Eliza stood rooted to the spot as April's husband loaded Eddie's bags onto the trolley. She waved a weak goodbye to the family, still unable to move. Eddie smiled back at her and called out, "I hope life treats you well," giving her a wink. April began to push his chair towards the exit when Eliza heard him ask, "June, what's for dinner?"
3rd Place Michelle Schultz
We are withholding Michelle's story as she is developing it further.
Something different
This time we're putting on another entrant's submission after consulting with him so here it is! Do comment and let us know what you think.
The Delivery by Emad Alfons
The phone kept ringing like a staggering siren, on and on it relayed in the abandoned room. Mayor Bernaski has just left his office heading to Heathrow's airport to catch his 11:45 flight to Moscow. A few miles away from the central state building occupying the backseat of his bulletproof 745 BMW an alarming buzz itched his right thigh. Again he paneled his cell phone to silent mode but luckily he could still feel it's vibration throbbing his thigh. Peculiarly he gazed at the screen wondering at the unknown number appearing on the monitor, he gently pressed the answer button and uttered a hesitated greeting tone. The signal was weak and the phone's charge about to die. Few could be heard from his assistant Tony who tried contacting him at the office but got no reply. Fortunately the message was delivered and the mayor informed of the swap, to take place at the airport. Boris Patel was to be replaced at the mayor's assistance instead of Tony. The brief chat ended followed by a squeaking low battery indication.
A few minutes later avoiding downtowns crowded streets the driver made a complete halt outside Heathrow's airport. Patel was alerted on his walkie-talkie of the mayors arrival, hurdling his way to him at an alarming pace. The mayor was joined by his private staff and secretary who accompanied him on every foreign diplomatic event. Regulations committed and check-in cleared the mayor along with 4 of his private staff boarded the plane.
Yuri Bolakov an ex-KGB agent sent his advisors to declare a press conference to be conducted shortly after the mayors arrival. Accommodation was finalized at the Four Seasons hotel and a private duplex suite secured with the supervision of highly ranked statesmen. Conference invitations delivered, attendees informed and the hosting hall ready for the conference. Bolakov made sure that everything seemed normal, his duty was to ensure that this feeling of comfort was present and sensed evidently. His fierce features and shallow smile made the flow of work managed to complete perfection. All was set early before the plane took off Heathrow's airport.
The plane took off on time, the busy staff started their work immediately soon after the seat belts icon dimmed. The cabin crew offered cold mint and hot towels, while the mayor being handed his towel gestured with his fingers to the crew member and ordered a cup of coffee. Briefly after the order, Patel followed the white shirted crewman, dipping his hand into his right pocket to grab a black device with a small screen, one of those digital type bleeping devices. The mayor's phone already dead asked his assistant to put it on charge and was handed another to carry out his phone calls. With each of his team busy with scheduling and planning, his personal bodyguards keen to every motion, no one paid attention to the most obvious detail, the coffee.
Patel was back to his seat beside the mayors secretary, he turns to her and quietly whispers " I know I'm supposed to keep this a secret, but I absolutely must tell someone". His words startled her and instead of looking back at her computer screen, her eyes grew weary and worry crippled down her spine. "I think the mayors life is in danger" he added, making sure his voice was only heard by the secretary.
Coffee was served in a paper cup on a small platter with sugar and cream on the side. The mayor immediately poured the cream and added a pack of sugar to his hot drink and started sipping his first mouthful of hot toxin. The coffee contained Ricid, a highly poisonous powder which the crewman added 100mg of it carefully into the cup. The toxin circulates through the blood faster when accompanied by a sugary substance, with minor flu symptoms appearing within 8 to 10 hours. The toxin was now running through the mayors system, and the flight to Moscow would approximately take 6 hours.
"I can't clearly know where the threat is but the mayor is in danger" Patel continued his chat with the secretary, with her eyes fixed on his lips as if reading his words. There was no appealing threat present on board, no peculiar movements or any sense of instability. Patel could not sense any present danger threatening the mayor's life on the plane, but the message he received on his private device made him insecure. A professional security man could not figure where the threat lies.
The coffee cup lay empty in front of the mayor and the sense of warmness cuddled his belly, not aware that a toxin will soon be clotting his veins.
The plane arrived at Moscow's airport at 5:15 with Patel tilting around himself searching for traces of threat but what made matters worse is the normality of things which dissipated a sense of security at it's most. The adrenaline pumping through Patel's and the secretary's veins made everything seem alarming to them, rechecking the mayors luggage and personal belongings. The bodyguards too sticking to the mayor after Patel informed them of the threat. Shortly the staff and the mayor left the airport heading towards the hotel, with the mayor releasing his first cough between his palms. It appeared normal to Patel and thought it was due to atmosphere's change giving it no much attention, but when the mayor started feeling dizzy and his limbs getting loose and vulnerable he had to act. All his attention was focused now on saving the mayors life, giving no much attention to traces of threat as he knew that the danger had impacted already.
They arrived at the hotel and were welcomed by Bolakov, showing them the way to their rooms. The Mayor was tired and feeling cold by now and prompted angrily at Patel to lead him to the restroom. Holding him by his arms with the help of the bodyguards they penetrated directly the suite with Patel's eyes grabbing the features of a familiar face, the white shirted crewman standing before Bolakov. His eyes said more than his mouth could utter and took his first steps towards the crewman. He stepped rigidly in front of Bolakov and asked if he could call in for the hotel's doctor for a quick check up to the mayor. He tested the crewman's reaction with a few questions and recorded his body language and eyes. He knew he was involved in the scene but the mayor's life was important at the moment. He accompanied the doctor to the suite where the mayor was fidgeting like a newborn baby lying helplessly on the bed. The doctor predicted a form of seizure or epileptic defect and soon injected the mayor with a mixture of tranquilizers to stabilize the body. 10 hours have passed since the toxin entered the mayor's body and was affecting the body's organs. The doctor announced that the mayor should be sent to the hospital for immediate surveillance.
Bolakov and the crewman vanished into thin air, leaving no trace of their presence in the hotel as if their mission has been accomplished. Patel couldn't simply find them, he stormed the hotel and asked at the reception for the men but everyone denied their existence and some denied their identities. Everything about them was fake, the only thing true about them stayed unveiled. Bolakov and the crewman where members of a secret resistance to arms dealing who used their state jobs as war veterans to defuse any attempted threat to their country. Mr.Bernaski was there to sign a confidential treaty between both countries to import used weapons. Weapons to be used against their own countrymen and soil. The mayor was their target, they had to eliminate this threat at all costs and dismantle the root of future smart missiles being imported to their country. Worst of all where the two parties behind the deal, a Russian warlord and an English secret arms dealer. The deal was far from legitimacy, but had to be covered delightfully by a diplomatic event, the mayor was attending.
The mayor arrived the hospital at 9 pm with severe neural failure and respiration low enough to decrease the heartbeat to 20 beats per minute. The toxin has been circulating his blood long enough to be curable, at 10:15 the mayor was announced dead. Patel's black device rang again and Tony's number appeared now. Patel read the following message "Reach into the mayor's right jacket pocket, take the bank card and head to the bank's headquarters at 182 valon st and ask for Richard Daftport, he'll lead you to the locker". Patel was now in the midst of confusion, alone and perplexed he had to know what was he involved in. He did as Tony told him and made his was to the bank's main office asked for Richard and was lead to a private room where an iron box settled on a table. Patel was sure that everything had been settled beforehand and everyone played a specific role, each providing a piece of information. He was not asked for any identity nor to present any documents confirming his relation to the mayor.
He opened the box and started running his eyes over some papers with bank accounts and confidential contracts carrying the mayor's name. He emptied the papers into a bag Richard provided him with and left heading back to the hospital. With all matters being settled by the embassy, Patel now drew patterns attaching one end of the string to another grasping the entire image. He possessed papers of the mayor's secret contracts with warlords, Tony's involvement with the Russian secret service police and a plot to assassinate the mayor. He knew that he had to act on both ends, submitting the documents to court and bring Bolakov, the crewman and Tony to justice.
The device rang again with Tony's number, now the message read as follows "Delivery met".
And here is one more entry!
The Dependable Passenger by Akbar Khan
That ringing! The alarm? The phone?!
I groggily rose from my bed and made my way to the source of my broken slumber. I pulled open the door, only faintly aware of my surroundings.
Slowly, it came back to me, as I looked at the bell boy's face. "Senior, you wanted a wakeup call?"
"Normally one would just receive a call on the phone, not a personal visit."
"Phones no work, sir. So I come to you."
"Why, thank you." I said closing the door on his tip hungry expression. My political preference holds me from handing out freebies, though political support is subject to change, now that I'm eligible for healthcare. What's the harm in switching sides for a day or two?
The flight is way too early for my liking; a result of having your family book your flights.
Do people still dress up for flights? I guess you could call a hoodie neo formal, blue jeans go with everything. Flipflops, now that's just being practical.
I rushed out the door with the pitter patter of my footwear on the cheap carpet, bags in tow. Meager belongings make for a good traveler.
Checking out is an easy process in a dump like this. No services offered, no services charged. I slammed down the bunched notes and keys on the front desk, thanking the cute receptionist on the way out.
Probably should have asked her name. On second thought what's the point, it's not like I have time to flirt and she probably isn't single anyway.
Best not to get myself tangled with another exotic girl, not after the last one.
The taxi rides in Third-world countries are unpleasant, to say the least. Maybe if I paid a little more, I could have gotten the driver to turn on the air conditioning. They always seem to want to make conversation.
"No, really, I enjoyed my stay." Been stuck in office meetings all week, not much of a vacation.
"Good, I'm happy you like my country. So you went downtown? Met a few of the honeys?"
Oh god! When has this become appropriate conversation? Whatever happened to talking about the weather or the economy? "Yeah, sure buddy, a few." Smooth…
Twenty minutes of awkward conversation later, we reach the airport.
The airport, highly unremarkable, looks as if it was purposely built to bore any passing on-looker, deliberately lowering the expectations of incoming tourists. The rolling green hills, blue skies and silky sand on the beaches get a noticeable boost by comparison, especially if you had arrived on a flight from one of the local carriers.
It was about 10 before I plopped down on the seat. Economy class, not the most glamorous way to travel. I was looking forward to a quiet flight and to avoid social interaction by burying myself in the in flight magazine. The seat next to me was empty and I hoped it would stay that way.
A young lady in a pair of blue jeans and a plaid shirt was struggling to fit her bag in the overhead compartment. My large carry-on-bag was not placed in the most appropriate position. I decided to do the decent thing, get up and help. Ignoring my natural awkwardness, which insisted that my interest be better placed on this fascinating article about research done on drying paint.
Pushing my bag to one side, I managed to make enough space to slot her bag in place.
"No problem" I turned and got a good look at her. She couldn't have been more than in her late 20s. Bright red hair framed her face, along with a friendly smile.
We took our seats, hers the aisle and the window for me. I tried busying myself with last view of the rolling mountains, out in the distance, trough the tiny window. I decided to go back to my magazine but quickly got distracted by my fellow passenger's fidgeting.
Twirling her thumbs, it was quite obvious she was nervous. Just as the plane started to taxi, I noticed the blood drain away from her face. It was hard not to stare, her fear of flying was quite obvious.
The whine of the engine turned into a rumble as the plane started barreling down the runway. I turned to see the lady had her eyes locked front and was now gripping the armrests. I managed to hide my smile to the other side of my face, more commonly known as a smirk.
My covert amusement didn't last long. Just as the plane lifted off of the runway. I hear her voice whispering into my ear. Personal space, along with flying, was not her forte.
"I must tell you a secret, I probably shouldn't tell anyone this."
All of a sudden we are best buddies; I seemed to have missed that memo.
"Umm, sure. If you want too." She waited for a key moment, no escape! She could be any one of the horrors seen on the news or a combination. Question is, does she blow up the plane first, or drop the drugs to her cartel friends first?
"I'm afraid of flying."
I masked my sigh of relief with a nervous laugh. "Well that's not too bad. Lots of people are afraid of flying."
"No, you don't understand. I'm the air marshal on this flight."
It was now my face's turn to lose color. Odd that the increased possibility of danger is less terrifying than losing your comfy layer of defense against a highly unlikely danger. Chances that a plane would be hijacked are quite small. Suddenly, I feel like I'm in a really lame bar joke: A terrorist and a cowardly air marshal walked into a plane…
"I know this might be a little unusual.." understating a little aren't we? "… but I really needed to tell someone."
The plane lurched as it hit a pocket of turbulence, making her flinch. It almost seemed like the sky was reluctant to let go of his sway over the Ms. Air Marshal.
"Sure. Quite unusual actually. So how did you get into this line of work?" I hope I can carry the conversation long enough for her to relax.
"Two years of training. I passed my exam with flying colors, you know." She said with a sheepish grin. It made me glad that I could take her mind off of her work disability. I'm still not quite sure if distracting an officer of the law is a good thing.
Weren't air marshals supposed to be middle aged men with handle bar mustaches who don't draw any attention? Then again, none would suspect the petite girl with hair bright enough to flag down rescue planes with.
"You're fear of flying wasn't an issue?"
"The simulator was well grounded. They didn't really ask me if I was scared of heights. In fact I have never actually been in a plane before."
Somehow I do not find the same level of humor as her voice suggests I should have. I guess this speaks volumes about the government and their ability to keep the public safe.
As the plane leveled off, Ms. Red Head seemed to have calmed down but her nerves seem to rattle in tandem with the plane through every pocket of turbulence.
I would have called this a smooth flight but sitting next to someone like her, makes you aware of the slightest bumps.
We had our in-flight-meal, as we chatted away. It might have been the free alcohol I happily downed. I do seem a lot more charming when filled with the right amount of booze. She on the other hand stuck to her juice.
Agitated voices began coming from the rear of the plane. This gradually got louder with one voice becoming the predominate character in the argument. Whoever it was, was slurring his words heavily, obviously intoxicated.
The little passenger next to me scraped up the last bit of her custard before squeezing out of her seat. She briskly walked down the aisle to the source of the commotion. I dived to my right to get a better view of what was happening.
The man had grabbed the collar of a terrified air hostess, while other passengers looked on in shock. He was stumbling a bit, not quite sure what to do now that he was in the commanding position he put himself into. He seemed more than happy to just continue yelling at her. Good
Ms. Scared of Flying, let loose a quick jab to his ribs, while with her free hand she swiped his hands away from his victim. Just as he buckled over in pain, she pushed him to the floor, pinning his hands behind him.
"Stop resisting! You're under arrest!" She commanded, in a voice quite unlike the one that was whispered in my ear.
I didn't see either of them for the remainder of the flight. Both seemed to have found seats next to each other, where he could be kept out of trouble.
Leaving the plane, I reflected on the day's events. This had been without a doubt the most interesting flight I have ever been on. Maybe more people would fly, if they knew they were going to see some martial arts action. Hmm, that could actually work. I wonder if any of the airlines will let me pitch my idea…..
"Hey!" Ms. Kick Ass was jogging up to me a silly grin on her face.
"Hey. That was amazing! Good Job."
"Thanks. I just wanted to say thanks for everything, Richard."
"Oh it was no trouble. Wait… How do you know my name?"
"It was on the passenger list. I had to note it down for… official purposes, as a witness. Also your phone number. Anyway, see you around."
Walking out of the airport, I couldn't help but hope she would call. Things may finally be looking up.

subset: commoncrawl


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TV mom Michelle Duggar is pregnant with No. 20.
The fertile reality mom told the "Today" show she is three-and-a-half months in and feeling great at age 45.
"We are so excited," Duggar said before the broadcast. "I was not thinking that God would give us another one, and we are just so grateful."
U.S. & World
News from around the country and around the globe
The Arkansas mega-family stars in its own reality TV show, "19 Kids and Counting," on TLC. The number in the show's title was last changed in 2009, and last summer, when the last appeared on "Today," it was the longest Michelle had gone without a pregnancy in more than 20 years.
Dugar told "Today" she's over her first-trimester morning sickness, has been indulging her cravings for dill pickles, and is feeling great. She said her doctors have given her the green light for this pregnancy, and so far she hasn't had any health worries. For the past year, she said, she's been working out five or six days a week.
"I'm really in better shape than I've been in 20 years."
The Duggars' 19 children range in age from 23 years to 23 months. Proud patriarch Jim Bob Duggar said he's ecstatic.
"Michelle and I both feel like some of the most blessed parents in the world," he said. "We didn't want to stop on an odd number."


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Entering her second season as the head lacrosse coach at Central Connecticut, Kelly Nangle set program records for conference (5) and home victories (6) in her first season. She also tied the school's record for wins in a season (7), which had been set the previous season.
The Blue Devils' success in 2012 earned Nangle Northeast Conference Coach of the Year honors following the season. In addition to the team's success, Nangle guided a pair of players to individual accolades following the season. Senior Erin DeLancey was named NEC Goalkeeper of the Year and was named First Team All-NEC for her performance. In addition, junior Betsy Vendel earned a Second Team All-NEC selection.
Nangle has a career record of 7-9 as a head coach.
On August 8, 2011, Central Connecticut State University
Athletics Director Paul Schlickmann announced Kelly Nangle as the
fourth head coach in the history of the CCSU lacrosse program.
"We are thrilled to welcome Kelly to the Blue Devil family," Schlickmann said. "She possesses the best of the qualities we were looking for in a head coach; a proven track record as a player, experience coaching at a highly successful program, an impressive vision and a contagious enthusiasm. Her passion for the sport of women's lacrosse was clearly evident from our first conversation. Kelly is an excellent addition to our staff and I am confident she will develop our women's lacrosse program into one of the premier programs in the Northeast Conference."
"I am very thankful for the opportunity to be the head coach of the Blue Devil women's lacrosse program," Nangle said at the time of her hiring. "I can't wait to get started. This program has the potential to be one of the best in the NEC and in the region, and I look forward to getting to work. CCSU has a history of successful programs winning NEC titles, it's time to add women's lacrosse to that list."
Prior to CCSU, Nangle spent three seasons as an assistant coach
at Rutgers University. She was in charge of the team's
defense, as well as serving as the recruiting coordinator for the
Scarlet Knights. During that time, Rutgers has maintained a
presence in the national rankings.
Nangle joined the Rutgers staff in the fall of 2008. During her three seasons the Scarlet Knights accumulated a 27-21 won-loss record. They were one of the top defensive teams in the Big East during that time, finishing second in the conference in goals-against average in 2011.
Prior to joining the staff at Rutgers, Nangle spent a year as the head lacrosse coach at St. John's Prep in Frederick, Maryland. Before that, she spent a year as an assistant coach at Mount St. Mary's, her alma mater, a member of the NEC.
Nangle was a four-time All-Conference selection for the Mountaineers and is among the programs top-10 all-time in ground balls, caused turnovers, and draw controls. Following her senior season, she was selected to play in the Division I North/South Senior All-Star Game.
She earned a Bachelor of Arts in business from the Mount in 2006.


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CASE48362: Horary consultation concerning an Anonymous (PERSON38565)
Question asked by Mr Richard Greenway (PERSON19788) on 12 March 1619 at 19:20
RN Mr Rich. Greeneway for his mayd troubled wth the mother march. 12 ♀ h. 7. 30 \20/ p m 1619
[Astrological Chart]
Transcribed entry from MS Ashmole 230, f. 196v (upper right part of page)


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July 14, 2010
Tools for Field Staff›Manuals
A Facilitators Guide to Developing OVC Program Sustainability and Transition Plans
In the first phase of OVC emergency funding by foreign donors such as the United States government, CRS assumed the primary responsibility for managing the OVC grants by...More
July 15, 2010
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July 15, 2010
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The Faithful House: Core module manual and fertility awareness methods
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After more than 15 years, the mastermind behind the gruesome and infamous murder of renowned gorilla researcher and protector, Dr. Dian Fossey whose life was portrayed in the 1988 movie "Gorillas in the Mist," may finally be in custody in Belgium. Protais Zigiranyirazo, the former Governor of the Ruhengeri province in Rwanda, brother-in-law of the assassinated Rwandan president, and one of the country's most wanted criminals for his creation of "death squads," which killed 800,000 in 1994, was captured by Belgian police while trying to flee Kenya on June 9, 2001.
Dr. Fossey observed the gorillas for 18 years in the Ruhengeri province when she was brutally murdered in her hut on December 27, 1985. Known for her vigilant pursuit of poachers, Dr. Fossey had made many enemies including Zigiranyirazo, who, it was reported, she was about to announce publicly as being behind poaching and smuggling rings of endangered species and gold in and out of Rwanda. Soon after her murder, Rwandan officials arrested one of her trackers for the murder. He then "apparently" committed suicide while in prison, but diplomats in Kigali believe he was secretly hanged before he could talk. Several months later, Wayne McGuire, her American research assistant, was accused by the Government of her murder but escaped capture when the US embassy warned him, enabling him to leave the country.
For years the FBI was unable to approach its prime suspect, Zigiranyirazo, because of his political connections, but that all changed when he was arrested in Belgium for war crimes.
The saga of Dian Fossey's murder may soon be resolved, but her work for the gorillas she fought so hard to preserve still goes on. The following story, reprinted from the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International, is of Beetsme, one of the original gorillas observed by Dr. Fossey over 25 years ago.
"Rwandan field staff employed by the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund International have recently discovered the body of an older adult male mountain gorilla named Beetsme. Beetsme, the former leader of a group of 25 gorillas, had been missing from his group for several days, as determined by the Fossey Fund trackers, and it was feared that he was either seriously injured or dead. Beetsme was about 36 years old, which is near the normal lifespan limit for an adult male gorilla living in the wild. Although autopsy results are pending, his body showed no obvious signs of injury or illness and it is presumed that he died of natural causes.
"Beetsme was first observed by Dian Fossey in 1975, when he was about 10 years old. Fossey was not sure of his gender at the time, and when asked about it she answered, 'Beats me.' This answer was subsequently transformed into a name for the gorilla-'Beetsme.' Fossey also noted that this gorilla had an 'unusual tolerance of observers.'
"When he reached maturity, Beetsme served as the dominant silverback of his group. As dominant silverback, he helped keep the group together and safe, and fathered a number of offspring. With advancing age, however, Beetsme lost his leadership position to a younger male named Titus, who leads the group today. Beetsme had known Titus for many years and the two formed a strong bond. Even after Titus took over, they worked together to help maintain the integrity of the group. At times, Titus was observed confronting intruding silverbacks, while Beetsme remained behind with the females, keeping them together. Today, this group of gorillas is still called 'Beetsme's Group' by the Fossey Fund staff. It now includes several other young silverbacks and juvenile males."
Dian Fossey's final journal entry read: "When you realize the value of all life, you dwell less on what is past and concentrate on the preservation of the future."
CAPTION: Beetsme, who recently died, was one of the gorillas observed by Dian Fossey in the early years of her great observations and fierce defense of mountain gorillas.


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Recently posted to SSRN:
"Blaming as a Social Process: The Influence of Character and Moral Emotion on Blame"
Law & Contemporary Problems, Forthcoming
Northwestern Law & Econ Research Paper No. 12-01
Northwestern Public Law Research Paper No. 12-01
JANICE NADLER, Northwestern University School of Law, American Bar Foundation
For the most part, the law eschews the role of moral character in legal blame. But when we observe an actor who causes harm, legal and psychological blame processes are in tension. Procedures for legal blame assume an assessment of the actor's mental state, and ultimately of responsibility, that is independent of the moral character of the actor. In this paper, I present experimental evidence to suggest that perceptions of intent, foreseeability, and possibly causation can be colored by independent reasons for thinking the actor is a bad person, and are mediated by the experience of negative moral emotion. Our emotional reactions are not only a product of the act and the outcome, but also a product of inferences about the general virtuousness of the person who performed the act that caused the harm. Remarkably, this result holds true even though the mental state of the actor was clearly specified.
As observers, we give the benefit of the doubt to a person with a virtuous character who causes harm; we perceive his actions as less intentional and perhaps even less causal, and the harm less foreseeable than if his character is flawed. Remarkably, it seems that we do not deliberately use character information to inform responsibility judgments, for when differences in character are made explicit, we moderate our judgments so that we hold the virtuous harmdoer equally responsible as the ignoble harmdoer.


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Orphan Photos #107 & #108
These two photo appear to have been taken about the same time. I suppose they could be related, but we have no idea who they are.
The imprint on thee cabinet cards reads: A.R. Fowler, Meadville PA.
The photographer is probably Albert Fowler, found in both the 1900 and 1910 censuses as a photographer living in Meadville, Pennsylvania. Albert was born about 1858 and his wife was named Flora.
Update 01/28/12 – These photos are likely Edward Collins and one of his daughters, Julia, Alice, or Margaret, and have both been reunited with family. See the "Comments" for more information.


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I speak my heart out.
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"Fancy looking fellow isn't he?"
"Wait a minute, I've seen him somewhere before..."
[Verse 1: Inspectah Deck]
I'm sickly, flow quarantined by the CDC
Heads nod, pressure on your neck like a DDT
Beat Street Ramo, spitting on your name
Rhymes travel underground like it's written on a train
My position in the game, top dog, rock hard
Fuck with everybody in your hood, just not y'all
Basic, live broadcast from the ER
We are talk of the town without the PR
Savagely attack this, rap master craftsman
Pack 'em in, twisted on the floor like a backspin
After him, y'all will have to deal with the son of Deck
One of the best that hasn't done it yet
Killa Bee chopping up the track like a Dilla beat
Professor X couldn't test my ability
I cave the motherfucking roof like heavy snow
Act like I told ya before, y'all ready know
"Now an attack is made..."
[Verse 2: Esoteric]
E-S reps, I wrote this in a GS Lex '95
To get that nineties vibe
My melody, high and low fidelity darts
My whole team, 7:30 like when Jeopardy starts
I can't call it, unless we call my style diabolic
I'm a write-a-holic, I drink ink 'til I vomit
I think 'til I'm catatonic, in sync with a bag of chronic
I'm bringing the mad demonic style all these rappers wanted
I'm the Czar of bizarre bars, cut you like a scimitar
Wichita state, X-Man'll execute you
You a dead man, God willing, I'm an odd villain
Getting top billing, with my squad chilling
Blood on the Tracks like Bob Dylan, die like a mob killing
We already know the ropes, we be stepping over ropes
It's Andre the Giant looking down at you local folks
Okey-doke, motorized vocals, yeah I practice
Raised on a tape the same color as Galactus
"Savagely attack"
"Hello, Mr. Ghost, we meet again, eh?"
[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]
Look out, attack like a nigga on bath salts
Eat his face off, leave his body on asphalt
Rampant, run through your town on attack mode
Savagely leave 'em broomsticked in the asshole
Cobra clutch, ickiest stick to the dutch skin
Throw a mask on, and go in, go in
I'm a terror tuck a GEM/STAR in the New Era
Walk around with two bats like I'm Yogi Berra
Or Marv from Sin City rockin' robes as a trench
My two weapons black have you ducking under the bench
The stench of dead bodies, thoughts of the mutilation
Bring you closer to God in a tight situation
Or thrown in the back of the truck, a sanitation
I'm ruthless, my technique is Chinese torture
No IV's hanging out of your vein to support ya
Everybody's talking about how the Ghost caught ya
Have a 5-year-old kill your ass for a quarter
"At Tony Stark's office, there is a new development..."
"Ironman...? Ironman...?
Red alert. Red alert."
Savagely Attack is a song by rap group CZARFace, consisting of rappers Inspectah Deck and Esoteric on their debut album "CZARFace". This song features rapper Ghostface Killah,and is produced by producer 7L, who helped produce most songs on this album.


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Born in Odessa, Ukraine in 1973
Now lives in Kiev, Ukraine
Works with photography, video, painting and computer generated art.
Also works as music video director.
2003 "Krok" animation festial, "General Vatutin" ship, Ukraine
2002 "KIMAF" (Kiev International Media Art Festival), Kiev, Ukraine
2000 "KIMAF" (Kiev International Media Art Read More
1993 - 1999 Ukrainian Academy of Art, Kiev, Ukraine
1988 - 1992 Odessa State College of Fine Arts, Odessa, Ukraine
Born in Odessa, Ukraine in 1973
oil on canvas
90 x 140 cm
(35.4 x 55.1")
Price: £2307 GBP


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Between The Wars – Billy Bragg
Call up the craftsmen bring me the draughtsmen build me a path from cradle to grave and I'll give my consent to any government that does not deny a man a living wage
I wrote the piece below in the Spring of 1985 as this song was released. I was 27.
Blackpool. Monday afternoon, a wet October, 1984
Six actors, a director and a writer meet each other in the lounge of the Pendale Hotel (just off the town map) and plan their assault on the Labour Party Conference : the largest collection of journalists to be found outside of a Fleet Street pub. Our mission: to explore their world, their obsessions. We have (valued possessions) press passes saying 'Joint Stock' pinned to our clothing, currently providing simple entry to the Winter Gardens. We are naive, optimistic, nervous, brave. We move in.
A fringe meeting upstairs from the bar is getting underway. Entrance is through a sea of leaflets thrusting at you from Nicaragua to the Kent coalfields. Inside, a large surreal Spanish galleon of a room is filling up. TV cameras at the front, lights. A sense of excitement. The speakers tonight are Livingstone, Benn & Scargill. I am looking for journalists. What do they wear? How do they talk? Who do they vote for? Why are they journalists? Will they even talk to me? I see two, identifiable by their press passes, and sit down next to them, a youngish woman and an older bespectacled man.
'Hello,' I offer boldly. 'Can I talk to you?' They look at me. I launch in. 'My name is Ralph Brown and I'm up in Blackpool with Joint Stock Theatre Group and we're researching a play about journalists and we don't know what it's about yet, and can I talk to you?' They are both from The Sunday Times, covering the conference – she is on the Insight team, he is the local man in Lancashire.
'We set the agenda for this conference' he claims, 'Three weeks ago our front page said Kinnock would be in trouble on three fronts at this conference – the police, the miners, the local authorities. And that's the way the conference will go.' He evidently felt that this was the legitimate role of the paper, but perhaps feeling he had said too much started to move away. 'Talk to Ros,' he said, 'she's the expert on the miner's strike.' Could I meet him later I asked, at the Imperial Hotel perhaps? He smiled and nodded and moved off. The woman grabbed my arm. 'Do you know who that is?' she whispered. 'He's the one you want to talk to. That's Michael Jones, political editor of The Sunday Times.' I was going to have to be a little smarter over the course of the next three weeks. There was a stirring at the front of the hall. Scargill was entering – he timed it well, and the room erupted as their hero moved onto the platform. The feeling was quite extraordinary. Suddenly the press became noticeable leaning against walls, slouching in chairs, bored. Even so, notebooks were produced, pens from inside pockets, and attention brightened a little: the studied boredom of their poses couldn't quite smother the sense of history.
Arthur Scargill, leader of the miner's union at the Labour Party Conference, 1984
Later, the bar and foyer of the Imperial Hotel provided the true flavour of the conference. The place was full of journalists and politicians, and Joint Stock valiantly camoflauged within. Peter Hillmore (Observer) peered at my press pass suspiciously, exchanged a sentence with me and decided there were more important people to talk to. Sir Robin Day was decidedly the worse for wear and tottering on the steps with a young woman in black. I cornered Mick Costello, industrial editor of the Morning Star, smoking cigars and hobnobbing happily with capitalist comrades from the Telegraph and the Express. In fact there was an awful lot of hobnobbing going on. I think everyone there was drunk. I met Michael Jones again, he welcomed me with open arms, told me the play didn't have a hope of understanding "the relationship between me and the office", confessed to always having had ambitions to being one of the opinion-forming elite, and wished me the very best of luck, young man. 'Of course, it's very different when the Tories are here,' a wobbling hack confided. 'Last year it was wonderful though, Parkinson – you remember?' Little did he suspect that the Tories would provide the best story for a decade only ten days later.
It was Scargill's week, undoubtedly. Adulated by conference, hated and adored by the press, 'Coal Not Dole' stickers everywhere and buckets being rattled at every door. Quite a time. We all had our adventures. Simon Curtis followed a Sun reporter for one afternoon hoping to catch some juicy bit or other, and was spotted trying to listen in on a conversation. I was finally confronted by this man, a stocky Scot, who told me that if my friend didn't lay off he would receive a crack on the head. I talked to him. I was getting quite good at asking the right questions. He told me how he'd always wanted to be a policeman and had fallen into journalism at a Spencer Davis concert in Glasgow.
The Joint Stock method meant that observation was crucial. Each morning, we would present, one at a time, a character we had encountered the day before, with close attention to detail: accent, hand movements, figures of speech etc. Sometimes we would write notes. I found it easier and more accurate to rely on memory. If more than one of us had been there, we could present the group with a 'scene'. We slowly discovered which questions and lines of conversation gave the best 'results', but it was always the unexpected, the surprising, which caught the imagination of the group. It was for me a wonderfully exciting way to work.
Robert Maxwell, Mirror owner in July 1984
My final memory of Blackpool was a Daily Mirror press conference called by Robert Maxwell to present a granny from Essex with a huge cheque for one million pounds for winning Mirror bingo. The scene was grotesque, and made its way into Deadlines – the play which resulted from this workshop – in all its surreal horror, with myself playing the elephantine Maxwell. I remember the poor woman standing there, with cameras clicking, TV arc lights, microphones and questions, a glass of champagne glued into her hand, a frozen smile on her bewildered face. She turned to Marge Proops (Mirror Women's Page) standing next to her and asked if it was all right for her to have a sip. Later, Kathryn Pogson and I spoke to her daughter. ' You're not from The Sun are you? We've been told not to answer any questions.' We explained that we were actors doing research and suddenly the woman recognised Kathryn: 'You were on TV weren't you?' She immediately relaxed and took us into her confidence. 'They've been ever so good. We've been to four hotels in four days. We had the phone call saying we'd won, and they just said pack a suitcase. We left the washing in the machine.' Her son was whimpering. 'Shut up,' said his dad, 'I've bought you loads of things today.' They had just won a million pounds. Mirror men were gently ushering people to a photocall with the trams. 'Let's hope we've got more friends than enemies' was the daughters final thought as Kathryn and I left for the Big Dipper.
The local Sheffield paper : me, Paul Jesson, a journalist, Stephen Wakelam, Tricia Kelly, Alan David
The company left for Sheffield, the heart of the miner's strike, and spent two days at the local paper – the Morning Telegraph and the Sheffield Star the evening version, who shared the same office, again asking questions and listening. I suggested to the industrial editor ('a close friend of Arthur' someone whispered) that being a local reporter was something of a luxury, being able to be accurate and honest and truthful. 'No,' he said, 'I just have to live here.' It was becoming increasingly difficult to parry the obvious question: "What is the play about?" We really had no idea, and the people we talked to, especially the journalists, couldn't accept this. 'You're going to expose us, aren't you? All the drink and sex.' And in truth we were beginning to behave more and more like journalists: finding ways of making people talk, being persistent, looking for angles.
The most famous photograph from the 1984-5 miner's strike
Director Simon Curtis and I visited some picket lines at Maltby and Silverwood collieries and spent one afternoon talking to two miners who were on strike, one of whom, Jim, became a character in the play. Throughout the two and a half hour conversation, Simon had been fingering a five pound note in his pocket, preparing to give it to the fund before he left. 'Do you have a collection?' he asked the young miner. 'Sure, just give it to me, we'll mek sure it gets t' reght place.' Simon pulled out his note and offered it. They both looked at it. It was a twenty pound note. (more like a hundred pounds in today's money). 'Oh' said the miner. Simon's eyes glazed over. 'Oh thanks a lot' said the miner. Simon's fingers released the note, and he smiled weakly. We drove off, Simon in some shock.
The company then moved to the hustle and bustle of London, Fleet Street, the TV Studios and radio stations. The journey was important. The people we'd talked to 200 miles north were filtered and made into 'news' down here in the capital. Stephen Wakelam (the writer) was particularly affected by this geographical change, and the play's sweep covers the quiet of the South Yorkshire countryside to the claustrophobic newsrooms of London. My favourite place was BBC Newsnight. 'We're doing a play about the media' I offered as an introduction to Howard, sleeveless-jerseyed, Guardian-reading type. He swung round in his typical journalists swing-round chair. 'Media!' He glared at me, managing to look totally harmless. 'Don't lump us in with the bloody Express, Mirror and Beano. This is a television news programme.'
Presenter Peter Snow (right) had an SDP poster up in the room where he was working. I desperately wanted to ask him if it was his, but couldn't find the words. It was very very difficult to ask journalists about their politics. They pretended they didn't have any. Or they said 'I'm nosy' or 'I'm an observer.' Others were more approachable, notably those at The Express, where a considerable number of the writers are members of the Labour Party! I was devastated by this disclosure, although the Express journalists I spoke to found it totally normal : 'It's the same at the Mail, the Sun, the Telegraph. You've got to earn a living.' I suggested the two things might be incompatible. 'I've never written a word against the Labour Party in twelve years on the Express.' The man seemed proud of this, as if his principles were still intact. Fiona Millar, one of the few women on the paper had an even worse situation, surrounded by pin-ups, being given the Royal stories or the animal stories because of her gender. 'My generation is terribly disappointed in the profession we've joined,' she told me. She is in her late twenties, and moved from the local paper to Fleet Street just as it was going down the drain : bingo, tits and circulation wars. She was consoled by the fact that the Express was 'a writer's paper' rather than a subeditor's paper. Subeditors – the back bench – are a strange group of men (invariably) who sift the paras, reorganise the stories, and in many cases rewrite according to the paper's politics.
The Sun was more difficult. We trooped up to the office and were told to wait by the door. We huddled there, feeling like intruders. A nervous face told us about The Sun glancing over his shoulder now and again. One of us was escorted to the toilet and back. We were not allowed to talk to any journalists. The face we were talking to had a plastic smile which it kept putting on to reassure us, and only succeeded in totally unnerving us. 'We are a family newspaper. We never print anything unless it's checked. We write for an average reading age of eight.' He did, however, tell us the name of the cabinet minister whom the whole of Fleet Street knew was fucking small boys. And somehow, this one rather sordid point was a believable oasis in the desert of his insincerity.
And so to the Tories. We took it in turns to visit the Tory Conference in Brighton (only had two press passes) and Tricia Kelly and I found ourselves on the train down just hours after an IRA bomb had wrecked the Grand Hotel. There was security everywhere. The atmosphere inside the conference hall was extraordinary. Resilience, survivors. Thatcher got an emotional standing ovation just for being there. Tricia and I felt like enemies of the people in the midst of the mob, protected by the legitimate neutrality of our press passes. It meant we didn't have to applaud. We could look cool and detached and professional. This was a relief. Thatcher was finally introduced as 'a great statesman' and she spoke for the whole hall about Tebbit's bravery, property, owners and earners, and got a massive, absurd standing ovation at the end. Tricia made our way to the door and stopped to watch this display of political football hooliganism. We were ushered out by a rather embarrassed man, as if this was a private Tory moment not to be witnessed by the unfaithful.
Grand Hotel, Brighton, the morning after an IRA bomb, October 1984
We moved out onto the beach. The Grand Hotel had a huge hole knocked out of it, the beach was roped off, police were everywhere. Earlier, I had tried to have a few words with of the Observer, one of our contacts. 'Haven't got time,' he said, rushing away. 'Best story for twenty-five years.' There were journalists everywhere. Every paper and TV station had quintupled its Brighton staff. By now, we Joint Stockers were behaving like journalists ourselves, moving towards huddles of people instinctively for titbits trading information, becoming strangely distanced from the event. The process was not dissimilar : the workshop, the story.
I remember the feeling standing on Brighton beach, so clearly. An exhilarating sense of history. It was all happening around me: the strike, the conferences, the bomb. I felt at the centre of the universe.
Jenny Stoller, Tricia Kelly and Amelda Brown in Caryl Churchill's 'Fen'
Summer 2017 – Brooklyn
The piece above was the last chapter in The Joint Stock Book, published by Methuen in 1997 and reprinted here for information. I do not claim copyright. I think the book is now out of print. Subtitled The Making Of A Theatre Collective, the book is a tribute to the working method of Joint Stock, a unique theatre collective in the UK as I was starting out in the 1980s. It started around 1974 and had built a formidable reputation for itself as a producing house for new, often devised work. The company operated as a self-managing collective with only one permanent member of staff, the administrator, everyone else was invited to meetings and made decisions, on a collective level. I met a lot of very good people over the three years that I was involved with Joint Stock, including my next girlfriend, Rita Wolf, who had been in Borderline written by Hanif Kureishi and was thus on the collective. The book contains contributions from members of the collective about the work of the company, ranging from Max Stafford-Clark to Roger Lloyd-Pack to Bill Gaskill to Caryl Churchill to Kenny Ireland to Danny Boyle to Miriam Margoyles to Pauline Melville. It remains for me the finest way to create a play, both as an actor and as a writer. I was lucky enough to do both – the play Sanctuary came two years later in 1987 – Deadlines premiered in Sheffield in February 1995 before touring the UK. Both plays were written about and for a community : journalists and homeless youth. Later in 1985 Jane Thornton wrote Amid The Standing Corn about the miner's wives for Joint Stock. She is from Yorkshire where my dad lives now (married to a Barnsley lass, dear Beryl) and Jane is also married to a Yorkshireman John Godber who is instrumental in my working life (A Clockwork Orange, Up'n'Under). A strain of decency and pride running through the county. I think the most rewarding part of both Deadlines and Sanctuary for me were the nights when the community came to see the play they'd helped create. When the journalists at the Sheffield Star came to the Crucible Theatre, sitting alongside striking miners and their familes. When the homeless familes and charities like Centrepoint London came to The Drill Hall for a benefit one night to see themselves represented onstage. The highest form of emotion. Lucky to have experienced it twice. To think that Thatcher had called the National Union of Mineworkers 'the enemy within' still makes me enraged to a level which frightens me to this day. Turbulent times. A historic defeat. La lotta continua. Here's Billy.


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Book: More Than Desire
Author: Rachel De Lune
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: 7th August 2017
SynopsisEscape, it was the reason James Riley flew to the other side of the world. His family believed he'd left for career progressionâan opportunity he couldnât pass up, and his lie was so good even he believed it. Australia was perfect for him. It helped him forget his one and only mistake. A relationship was the last thing on his mind because he was never going to fall for a woman again.
Ariana Scott thought she wanted a Dom. That choice cost her both blood and tears. A year later, she was still trying to put the pieces of her life back together. Her interest in the sexy British guy was too soon, too fast, and because of her job, off limits. But the lure of James Riley was a temptation she couldn't shake off.
When a safe vanilla fling turns into a relationship, her career, her family, and her lifestyle threaten to tear her world apart. Sheâs fallen hard and is prepared to put everything on the line for James. He makes her question everything she thinks she knows about herself but there is only one answer when casual sex becomes more than desire.
Pre-Order the BookRachel De Lune writes emotionally driven erotic romance. She began scribbling her stories in the pages of a notebook several years ago. Today she's still scribbling stories of dominance and submission and creating Happily Ever Afters. Rachel lives in the South West of England and daydreams about shoes, lingerie and chocolate, in-between being a mum and a wife. She would love to give up her day job to devote more time to her scribbles. For every woman whoâs ever desired more. www.racheldelune.com
Universal link http://mybook.to/morethandesireMeet The Author
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September 2020


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Municipal Updates: Burlington Telecom Advisory Board Update
Download: H.264/AAC mp4 file
Tell us about your experience with this online video, click here.
An update on the Burlington Telecom sales process.
For more information: https://www.burlingtontelecom.com/board/
Channel 17 staff and CCTV do not necessarily share the opinions posted in the comments below.
Featured Story
August 11, 2020 Primary Night Results
For unofficial results on election night, visit the Vermont Secretary of State's election results page. Results reported for Federal, statewide, Senate and House Seats. https://electionresults.vermont.gov/Index.html#/ In September and October, Town Meeting TV will bring you live candidate forums for all federal, statewide and local elections.


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Product Features:
Material: Speciality Leather & Rubber sole
Product Description:
Dansko ankle boots lead the way in all-day comfort and on-trend style. Browse our selection of women's ankle boots to discover new and fresh looks that are always in fashion. Experience the durability of high-quality booties with leather, suede or fabric uppers. Spend your day in dress and casual leather ankle boots that provide the comfort and support you need for work or play. Looking for women's booties with bold designs? You don't have to put ankle booties away when the weather turns warm. Make the most of your seasonal style with open toe booties and peep toe booties. Like your leather ankle boots with a little lift to them? Choose from heeled booties and wedge booties for your preferred footwear height requirements. Shop for Dansko ankle boots for women today!
Care Instructions:
Wipe with a damp cloth to remove surface dirt. Use Dansko Nubuck and Suede Block and Brush to remove surface stains. For maximum water and stain protection, we recommend using Dansko Suede and Nubuck Protector Spray immediately after purchase.


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Cisco Buys Software Security Firm Virtuata
Cisco Systems Inc. said it bought Virtuata, a closely held security software firm, giving the highly acquisitive networking company new tools related to cloud computing and data-center infrastructure.
Cisco is in the midst of a turnaround after restructuring last year to focus on core product areas such as routing and switching gear that shuttle data between computers. Cisco has said it is benefiting from telecommunications and other companies' need for more robust networks to support mobile and cloud computing.


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Cryoderm® Gel Its not just better, its perfect.
There are 86,400 precious seconds in a day. Why spend any of them in pain?
CryoDerm pain relieving roll-on is the one used across the USA by chiropractors, massage therapists, physical therapists and sports teams to help relieve muscle and joint pain. It goes on cool and then almost creates a "mask" helping to block the pain. CryoDerm is great to apply on painful areas before bed to help you sleep. The roll-on makes it easy to apply. If you have a tension headache or migraine, apply Cryoderm on your neck to help alleviate the pain.
CryoDerm has become the favorite topical analgesic amongst arthritis back pain sufferers because it works fast and provides soothing relief. Whether you suffer from muscle sprains & strains, bursitis, tendonitis, fibromyalgia, arthritis, back aches or other joint pain, you should try CryoDerm pain relieving spray or roll-on. Please understand that this is powerful, yet temporary relief and will not cure your ailment. But, neither does pain medication. CryoDerm pain relief spray or roll-on is a natural way to achieve relief without taking harmful pain medication.
Questions: Call Manufacturer at 1-800-344-9926 or Visit: www.cryoderm.com
Cryoderm 5415 NW 24th Street Suite 103 Margate, FL 33063 ©2014 Cryoderm www.cryoderm.com


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Glencore Battles To Save Its Bid For Xstrata
Commodities trader Glencore (GLEN.L) battled to save its coveted $26 billion bid for miner Xstrata (XTA.L) on Wednesday after key shareholder Qatar stunned the pair with a late demand for better terms.
The Qatari intervention pushed the deal to the brink as it prompted a string of shareholders to revisit their own particular concerns, such as soaring executive pay and fears that the combined entity would take on riskier business.
Qatar, which had remained silent for months as it built the second-largest stake in Xstrata, said in a statement late on Tuesday that it supported the principle of the deal but wanted 3.25 new Glencore shares for every Xstrata share, up from the 2.8 on offer.
The 11th-hour call will make it almost impossible for the deal to go through on current terms, several sources close to the deal said, leaving just two days for Glencore to sweeten the offer or delay shareholder meetings scheduled for mid-July.
The very public move also emboldened other wavering investors, particularly those angry over the hefty packages being offered to retain top executives at Xstrata, including an extra 29 million pounds over three years just to keep Chief Executive Mick Davis.
"The intervention by Qatar was unexpected but highly welcome and will certainly bolster the resolve of current holdouts," Simon Wong, partner at corporate governance watchdog and shareholder advisory firm, Governance for Owners.
In the first sign of movement, Glencore said it was considering proposals put forward by the board of Xstrata to change certain aspects of the management incentive arrangements.
Several sources familiar with the situation said the proposed changes included tying the retention packages to performance and shifting the plans from cash to equity. One source added that the tie to performance would specifically involve linking pay to cost cuts through the new group.
Paul Lee, director of Hermes Equity Ownership Services, which is voting on behalf of around 1 percent of Xstrata's investors, said a simple bump-up in the ratio would not be enough to persuade them to back the deal.
"Xstrata to our mind has a pretty good record in risk management. That is less true of Glencore. Lots of investors are most troubled by the ratio and the retention packages, but they haven't really focused on this issue. The immediate question over price is pretty irrelevant in that context. (But) on the pay side, perhaps the board will have to assess where they are when they truly understand the depth of investor feeling. They have misjudged this quite significantly."
Analysts and other Xstrata shareholders warned that Glencore could simply refuse to budge on the larger issue of the deal structure, putting the bid at risk and delaying any subsequent effort for at least six and perhaps as long as 12 months.
"Whether Glencore now wishes to raise its offer, having faced down independent shareholders for the last four months, is questionable," said Neil Dwane of CIO Allianz Global Investors Europe, another top 35 Xstrata investor.
"The Qatar ratio would be circa 10 percent dilutive to Glencore. In fact, given the coordinated global economic slowdown, an argument could be made for actually lowering the price to reflect worsening prospects for miners."
The Thomson Reuters-Jefferies CRB index .CRB, a barometer for commodities, has fallen by about 14 percent since early February, when Xstrata and Glencore announced the deal.
The statement triggered intense negotiations and an emergency charm offensive from Glencore executives trying to understand the Gulf state's motivations and bring them back onside.
Meetings between Qatar and Glencore were taking place in London and Doha, people familiar with the situation said.
At a ratio of 3.25 percent, the offer would be worth $30 billion as opposed to $26 billion for a ratio of 2.8.
The structure of the offer gives minority investors substantial power - opposition from just over 16.5 percent of the total shareholding could sink the deal, given approval is required from 75 percent for the main vote on the offer, and Glencore does not vote.
The vote on pay requires a simple majority, but both will need to go through for the deal to succeed.
Glencore, already Xstrata's largest shareholder, with almost 34 percent, had been expected to improve the terms of its all-share deal in the early days after it was announced, but it stuck to its guns, as Xstrata faced falling thermal coal prices and increased uncertainty over Argentina and Peru - key to its growth prospects.
On Tuesday, before Qatar's unexpected announcement, Xstrata shares were trading around a 2.6 ratio, implying the market was not expecting a change to terms. Shares in both firms moved wildly on Wednesday, with Glencore down 2 percent at 0845 EDT and Xstrata down 0.2 percent in a rising FTSE 100 .FTSE.
Analysts doubted that Glencore would raise its bid as high as 3.25, the high end of initial expectations and a level at which some say the deal could destroy value for Glencore.
"We believe a bump - probably from 2.8 to 3.0 Glencore shares per Xstrata share - may be necessary to win over (Qatar) and other Xstrata shareholders," Jefferies analysts said. "However, we do not believe Glencore will bump to a ratio of 3.25 times."
Analysts said failure to secure the deal would not only cause a short-term drop in Xstrata shares, currently trading at a premium to the sector, but would also prove damaging for Glencore, whose bosses have long traded on their reputation as dealmakers.
It could also prove damaging for Qatar, which has invested more than $4 billion to become Xstrata's largest minority shareholder.
Several sources close to the deal said on Tuesday that Qatar's demand for 3.25 was likely a negotiating position.
"In our view, the news about Qatar requesting a bump and the recent strong shareholder opposition to the Xstrata management retention awards are problems. But ... these are likely not insurmountable hurdles to the proposed Glencore Xstrata merger," Jefferies said.
"We continue to expect this proposed merger to happen."
Richard Marwood, a portfolio manager at AXA Investment Managers, a top 40 Xstrata investor, said the external pressure from Qatar would give Glencore an opportunity to revise the terms "without too much loss of face".
A collapse of the deal would also be a blow to a long list of bankers involved in the deal, including Citigroup, Morgan Stanley, JP Morgan and Deutsche Bank.
Glencore and Xstrata have until Thursday to alter the terms of the deal without having to change the dates of shareholder votes, set for mid July.
Glencore and Xstrata have declined to comment on the Qatari announcement.


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Posted by Editor on 03/8/08
Symmetrics Cycling 2008
Courtesy Symmetrics Cycling
After an historical season last year, highlighted by a win in both the individual and team competition at the UCI America Tour, Symmetrics Cycling is ready for 2008.
2008 is an enormously exciting year for Canada's top professional cycling team, due to the 29th Olympiad in Beijing in August. The team is focusing on qualifying as many riders as possible for the three available spots.
Following such an impressive year, the roster for 2008 will stay largely the same. Once again, Svein Tuft, winner of the 2007 UCI America Tour, multiple National Champion and one of Canada's most successful riders, will lead the team. Tuft, who received multiple offers from other teams, has decided to stay in Canada and ride with the S-Team. Similarly, top riders such as Andrew Pinfold and Zach Bell - who both had great seasons sprinting - Christian Meier (2nd Vuelta A Chihuahua), National Champion Cam Evans, Andrew Randell (2nd, National Championships, and MTB rider extraordinaire Geoff Kabush will be back on the team. New to the squad will be Quebec rider François Parisien. Parisien comes to the team from the American Slipstream squad, and is a former National Road Champ. Ryan Anderson will also be joining the team, coming from Trek-Red Truck.
Filling out the roster is three-time Olympian Eric Wohlberg, Beauce top-ten rider Jake Erker, Will Routley, Jeff Sherstibitoff and Brandon Crichton. Symmetrics will also support junior rider Cody Campbell. The team has decided to focus solely on the men's team for 2008 and will no longer be continuing its women's team.
The S-Team will be once again riding carbon fiber Norco machines for both road, time trial, and on the track. Shimano is back to provide components and shoes, and Ritchey will be providing forks, saddles and other parts.
"It's great to have our support renewed by our sponsors for 2008," team co-owner Kevin Cunningham said. "We had an amazing 2007 and it's going to be tough to try and one-up it, but we're going to try. All the guys on the team have grown so much these past years and it's exciting to think of what we can do next."
After having an extraordinarily exhausting 2007, chasing valuable UCI points all over North and South America (and earning Canada an additional Olympic berth), the S-Team has reworked its season start for 2008. The team has been focusing on training in January and February in warmer climes, and has begun its racing season in March in California to assure fresh legs come the important races in the Summer.
Last year, by season's end, many on the team had difficult times in the final races (Svein Tuft, notably, after his defense of the UCI America jersey) such as the World Championships, due to racing for almost 10 months straight. This year, with such an important goal as the Olympics, the team will be focusing on specific targets.
|Return to Canadian Cyclist homepage | Back to Top


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This programme combines the study of applied politics with the management of modern society. The course will develop your skills and subject knowledge needed to secure a management position in the public sector.
On the Public Administration and Management BA at DMU you have the opportunity to combine the study of applied politics with the management of modern society.
You will share the first year with the Politics BA course, giving you a vital grounding in political issues and theory.
In the second and third years you will have the opportunity to combine politics with public administration modules.
Reasons to study Public Administration and Management at DMU:
Economics and Politics BA (Hons)Politics BA (Hons)International Relations and Politics
Institution code: D26
UCAS course codes: LN2F
Duration: Three years full-time, four years with a placement.
Fees and funding: £9,250 (for 19/20 entry)
Find out more about course fees and available funding.
Find out more about additional costs and optional extras associated with this course.
Contact us: For more information complete our online enquiry form or call us on +44 (0)116 2 50 60 70.
How to apply
Submit a study-related enquiry
Fees and funding: For 2020/21 tuition fees will be £13,750
Entry criteria
Pass Access with 30 Level 3 credits at Merit (or equivalent)
English (Language or Literature) and Maths GCSE required as separate qualifications at grade C
We will normally require students to have had a break from full time education before undertaking the Access course
Mature students
We welcome applications from mature students with non-standard qualifications and recognise all other equivalent and international qualifications.
English language
If English is not your first language, an IELTS core of 6.0 (including a minimum of 5.5 in each component) or equivalent is normally required.
UCAS Tariff changes
Students applying for courses starting in September will be made offers based on the latest UCAS Tariff. Find out more.
(The following elective modules are available for those students studying at SCOPE City U)
Note: These modules are indicative and based on the current academic session. Exact modules may vary in order to keep content current. Course information is correct at the time of publication and is subject to review.
You will be taught through a combination of lectures, tutorials, seminars, group work and self-directed study. Assessment is through coursework (presentations, essays and reports) and usually an exam or test, which is typically weighted as follows in your first year:
These assessment weightings are indicative only. The exact weighting may vary depending on option modules chosen by students and teaching methods deployed by the academic member of staff each year. Indicative assessment weighting and assessment type per module are shown as part of the module information. Again these are based on the current academic session.
This is a full-time course and in total you should be prepared to devote approximately 38 hours a week to your studies. In the first year, you will typically have up to 14 contact hours of teaching most weeks. Teaching is through a mix of lectures, tutorials, seminars and lab sessions and the breakdown of these activity types is shown in each module description.
Other: In addition each module provides a two hour surgery each week for individual consultation with the lecturer. You will also have timetabled meetings with your personal tutor and careers and/or subject meetings scheduled throughout the year.
Self-directed study: In order to prepare for, and assimilate, the work in lectures and seminars you will be expected to use our on-line resources, participate in flipped or virtual classroom discussions on our virtual learning environment (VLE) and engage in personal study and revision for approximately 25 hours per week.
Subsequent years follow a similar pattern, however, the contact time will vary depending on your subject mix and options chosen, and the teaching methods appropriate to the module. Further details are contained in each module description.
You will be taught in our purpose-built Hugh Aston Building equipped with lecture theatres and classrooms, break-out spaces for group work, quiet study zones for individual work, and high-spec IT labs installed with professional software.
The main Kimberlin Library is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year (other than in exceptional circumstances) and offers a huge range of online resources, all of which can be remotely accessed from anywhere you choose.
The library is run by dedicated staff who offer additional support to students, including help with academic writing, research strategies, literature searching and reference management and assistive technology, and mathematical skills for non-maths students. There is also a Just Ask service for help and advice, available via email or telephone.
The home of De Montfort Students' Union, (DSU) our Campus Centre offers a welcoming and lively hub for student life. Conveniently located at the heart of campus, it includes a convenience store, a Subway and a Starbucks. Here you can find the DSU-owned charitable accommodation service Sulets and DSU's shop, SUpplies, selling art supplies, stationery and clothing, and printing and binding services. The building is also home to the DSU officer team.
Our innovative international experience programme DMU Global aims to enrich your studies and expand your cultural horizons, helping you to become a global graduate, equipped to meet the needs of employers across the world.
Through DMU Global, we offer a wide range of opportunities including on-campus and UK-based activities, overseas study, internships, faculty-led field trips and volunteering, as well as Erasmus+ and international exchanges.
While overseas DMU Global opportunities are not currently possible, DMU will continue to review government advice and if travel is permitted, we hope to offer a small number of extra-curricular opportunities in the summer of 2021.
An optional paid placement year offers invaluable professional experience.
We can help you secure a placement through activities such as mock interviews and practice aptitude tests, and you will be assigned a personal tutor to support you throughout your placement.
We advertise posts in all locations in the private, public and not-for-profit sectors, including some international posts.
Our students have taken placements with companies including Rolls Royce, GlaxoSmithKline, Heathrow Airport and the House of Commons.
For further details visit our placements page or contact @DMUBALPlacements.
The course prepares you for senior roles in public and private sector organisations where you can influence major decisions that affect us all.
The public sector is a major UK employer and one of the most diverse, challenging and exciting sectors in which to work.
There is real demand for suitably qualified managers who are interested in making a difference and who understand the implications of the global financial crisis, climate change, sustainable development, health care and other issues affecting contemporary society.
The next DMU Open Day will take place on Saturday 17 October
Our prospectus will give you a clearer idea of what it's like to live and study at DMU and a snapshot of the courses we offer.
We welcome applications from students with a wide range of qualifications and experience.
Find out why our students are proud to say #IchoseDMU.
We offer a range of high-standard accommodation for our students, with 13 halls of residence and around 4,100 rooms, all of which are a short distance from our campus. There is a choice of mixed or same-gender flats, shared kitchen and laundry facilities, furnished bedrooms (some with en suite facilities) and internet access. Find out more.
We have a dedicated team to help deal with any issues you may have before, during and after your studies. From finding accommodation and settling in, to arranging academic support during your studies — our support team can help directly or point you in the right direction of someone who can. Find out more.
Run by students for students, DSU offers more than 150 societies and almost 40 different sports clubs. You can also get involved in the award-winning Demon Media group, volunteer to help in the community, become a course or faculty rep, and take part in DSU's annual elections. Find out more.
At DMU there is always something to do or see, check out our events for yourself.
Don't let us tell you how good we are. Come to one of our open days and find out for yourself!
Take a look around DMU by exploring our virtual campus.


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Login / Register
Elbow 180
Useful Information
All text and product images are the intellectual property and copyright of Pipestock Limited
Key Features / Tech Specs:
- Material: PE100 polyethylene
- Now supplied with 4mm terminal pins
- For water use only
- PN16 rated
- WRAS approved
- Conforms to BS EN1555, BS EN12201, WIS 4-32-14, WIS 4-32-15
Useful Info:
This elbow fitting is designed to join two pieces of MDPE pipe via electrofusion, creating a 180° bend in the pipe system. This allows the pipeline to change direction and go back on itself in a parallel line.
The pipes to be joined must be of the same diameter.
For basic fitting guidelines, go to the electrofusion fittings page and click on 'More Info'.
If you require any further information then don't hesitate to ring us here at Pipestock on 0845 634 1053. We're always happy to help!


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Aeromatic Aviator
Aeromatic 1912 Watches
Aeromatic 1912 is a German watch brand from the big city of Frankfurt. Aeromatic 1912 watches stand by the high quality and luxurious appearance but with an affordable image.
Aeromatic 1912 Aviator
The Aeromatic 1912 Aviator is one of the three collections of Aeromatic 1912. For the Aviator collection they also used the German name 'flieger'. Aeromatic 1912 Aviator is a German watch brand from the major industrial city of Frankfurt and rises of interest in the aircraft industry. All Aeromatic 1912 Aviator watches have slightly something away from the aircraft industry a number of examples are the central seconds hand and the looks of the instrument panels. The watch gives you the feeling that you have a complicated cockpit design for you. When you give a good look at the watch you will understand.


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Printer Friendly Version
Standard ECMA-382
120 mm (8,54 Gbytes per side) and 80 mm (2,66 Gbytes per side) DVD Recordable Disk for Dual Layer (DVD-R for DL)
2nd edition (June 2010)
This Ecma Standard specifies the mechanical, physical and optical characteristics of a 120 mm and an 80 mm dual layer DVD Recordable disk to enable the interchange of such disks. It specifies the quality of the pre-recorded, unrecorded and the recorded signals, the format of the data, the format of the information zone, the format of the unrecorded zone, and the recording method, thereby allowing for information interchange by means of such disks. This disk is identified as a DVD Recordable disk for Dual Layer (DVD-R for DL).
This Ecma Standard specifies:
This Ecma Standard provides for interchange of disks between disk drives. Together with a standard for volume and file structure, it provides for full data interchange between data processing systems.
The following file can be freely downloaded::
This Ecma publication is also approved as ISO/IEC 12862.
The previous replaced "historical" edition of this Ecma Standard is available here.


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According to legend, the Christmas tree had its genesis in 1419. Back then bakers in Freiburg hung sweets and baked treats from the branches of a tree. The children of the city were invited to ransack the tree on New Year's Day. Whether there's any truth to the legend or not, one thing's for certain: the German custom of decorating trees has spread all over the world. It's as much a part of Christmas as exchanging gifts and singing carols. The world's biggest Christmas tree towers over Dortmund's Christmas market every year.
In 1895, Johann Weck (born 1841 in Schneidhain near Königstein) acquired the patent and sole distribution rights for these preserving jars. Weck jars, with their famous strawberry logo, are still used today to ensure all kinds of foods remain fresh, palatable and full of flavour for several years.
78s, long-playing records, music cassettes, CDs ... all these universally adopted inventions have their roots in Lower Saxony . In 1887, the Hannoverian inventor Emil Berliner unveiled the 78 record and the gramophone to play it on. His brother went on to found the Deutsche Grammophon record company, later part of PolyGram. Other pioneering inventions followed, including the LP, cassette and compact disc (CD).
In 1903, glass specialist Reinhold Burger invented the thermos flask. The creation of a container that could preserve the temperature of the liquid inside it without the use of chemicals was revolutionary for its time. The thermos flask quickly established itself as an extremely useful invention that even today remains an indispensable part of day-to-day life. In the museum town of Baruther Glashütte, a glassblowing village in Brandenburg with a nearly 300-year history, there is an exhibition dedicated to the thermos flask and its success story.
The teddy bear has its origins in the town of Giengen an der Brenz, where Margarete and Richard Steiff ran a felt goods business. A small pin cushion made in 1877 in the shape of an elephant became one of the world's first cuddly toys. And it helped launch an idea that went on to conquer the world. The breakthrough came in 1902: a bear with movable arms and legs. It proved to be especially popular in the US, where it was named after the president at the time, Theodore (Teddy) Roosevelt. Back in Giengen an der Brenz, the Steiff Museum plots the fascinating history of the teddy bear.
Berliners have always been one step ahead. So it's no surprise that the world's first electric tram was launched here in 1881. For the kilometre-long journey from Lichterfelde train station to Zehlendorfers Strasse (today Finckensteinallee), Berliners paid 20 pfennigs – more than the average hourly wage. Today, visitors to Berlin's huge German Museum of Technology can gain a fascinating insight into the city's road and rail transport history.
The composer Richard Strauss was such a dedicated card player that he even included a round of the popular German card game skat in one of his operas, Intermezzo. This game for three players was invented in 1813 in the town of Altenburg, which is well known for its playing card factory. The museum in Altenburg Castle, the oldest of its kind in the world, covers the history of skat and playing cards. The town itself, over 1,000 years old, boasts a lovingly-restored old quarter as well as the magnificent castle.
Hops, malt, yeast and water – and nothing else. For around five centuries, the German Beer Purity Law has determined what can and can't go into German beer. It's the oldest food regulation in the world still in force today. The origins of the reinheitsgebot , as it's known in German, are a matter of some dispute. While Bavarian brewers claim it dates back to a document from 1516, their Thuringian colleagues point to a local trading regulation passed in 1434. Not that it makes any difference to the quality of the beer. The reinheitsgebot is rigorously adhered to everywhere in the country.
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