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May-June 2016 Challenge
July 19, 2016 in Creative Writers' Challenges, Uncategorized | Tags: Attachment, Baa Baa Black Sheep, Baccalaureate, bahrain, Bahrain creative writers' blog, Bahrain Writers Circle, BBC, BBC UK, BWC, creative writing, Desert Flower, Ireland, Irish Times, Island Arts Centre, Lisburn, Lunenburg, Lynda Tavakoli, Mahone Bay, Nilanjana Bose, Nova Scotia, Nursery Rhymes, Of Broken Things, Radio Ulster, RCMP, Robin Barratt, Rohini Sunderam, writing, Zohra Saeed | 1 comment
From February to April the Bahrain Writers' Circle was heavily involved in its annual poetry festival – The Colours of Life, and so there were no challenges.
By the end of April we were somewhat back on track and our challenge was to create a story based on a popular English nursery rhyme.
Our Reviewer – Lynda Tavakoli
Lynda Tavakoli is a BWC member who is at present back at her home in Ireland, she very graciously agreed to review our entries. Despite a heavy schedule and houseguests, she has given us all some very valuable feedback. Thank you Lynda!
Lynda is an author and poet who divides her time between Bahrain and her native Northern Ireland. She is a special needs teacher and facilitator of adult creative writing classes at The Island Arts Centre, Lisburn. https://www.islandartscentre.com/
Her literary successes include short story and poetry awards at Listowel, http://writersweek.ie/, the Mencap short story competition and the Mail on Sunday novel competition. Lynda's poems have been included in a wide variety of publications including Templar Poets' Anthology Skein, Abridged, The Incubator Journal, Panning for Poems, Circle and Square http://www.writing.ie/guest-blogs/its-all-inside-circle-square-edited-by-eileen-casey/ ,the CAP anthologies, The Honest Ulsterman and Live Encounters Poetry Journal (May/July). She was selected as The Irish Times Hennessy poet of the month for October 2015, http://www.irishtimes.com/culture/books/hennessy-niw.
Lynda's poetry and prose have been broadcast on both BBC Radio Ulster http://www.bbc.co.uk/radioulsterand RTE Sunday Miscellany. She has written two novels Attachment and Of Broken Things, (David J Publishing, Ireland) and has been the recipient of a number of Irish bursaries.
Lynda has published a number of human interest stories in the British national press on the subjects of breast cancer and senile dementia. She has worked as a volunteer for both Action Cancer and The Alzheimer's' Society, UK.
Lynda has facilitated prose recitals to commemorate the anniversary of the sinking of The Titanic and edited the prose and poetry anthology 'Linen' for the Irish Linen Museum. http://www.lisburnmuseum.com/
We had four entries for the challenge and are awaiting approval from two of our writers to publish their stories. In the meantime you may enjoy these two:
By Nilanjana Bose
The ancient pickup rattled on upward. Anupam handled the vehicle skillfully, avoiding the huge crater-like potholes where the monsoons had washed away the surface, the rains and winds gnawing the mountain road down to bare red earth, a deadly trap for the unwary. One could split an axle clean in two on these roads. He flung the steering to the left and then quickly back to the right to avoid another monster hole and inwardly fumed. A curse on women, particularly Mamon! He threw a sidelong glance to make sure that the three packets he had collected for her sat intact on the back, and heaved a sigh of relief as the road surface improved, allowing him to press hard ahead. It would be dark before he reached home
Anupam was the youngest in the household that Mamon, the matriarch, ruled over with an iron fist. The family were dispersed, two of her sons handled the marketing of the abundant fruit their orchards produced from Siliguri, a couple others had branched further afield and acquired long term leases on mango and lychee production in the plains. All of them, with the exception of Anupam, had been absorbed into the land and what it produced. Some had moved even further, going deep into the coffee territories of the South, and even into new-fangled biotechnology based, exotic foods. The bravest of them all, Nirupam, had gone to the North East and one step further. He had set up a processing plant. Orchard Fresh. Mamon thus controlled a wide web of interests sitting in her wheelchair on her mountainous perch, but she had not been able to control Anupam.
He was a changeling, a clumsy, black-fingered lad in a family of green-fingers. Anupam hated the smells of compost and overripe fruit, the mush of pulp and juice, the mess of peels and pips. He never managed to get the cuttings potted correctly even as a child, never remembered the watering or weeding schedules, never felt the least bit bereft when his straggly vines dried up, skeletally bare and barren. Once he was of age, Mamon sent him out systematically to each of their workplaces, but he only upset the customers, or gave away the fruit at ruinous discounts, or skived off during the picking to go hiking instead. He generally made a uniform nuisance of himself wherever he went and was back at the homestead in a month or two. He sat at home feeling useless and resentful, steeped in an infinitesimally slow-boiling rage that no-one noticed.
Mamon sat in her room going over the books that had been brought to her, with an eye on the window, and a cocked ear. Anup had not yet come back, it was getting late, the light already wore a certain final murkiness.
Though she was aged and confined to a wheelchair, she sat tautly upright and had the vitality of a much younger woman. A falling tree had struck her and caused damage to the spine, and by the time she was in her thirties, she had lost the use of her legs. By then she had a houseful of children, and she learned to cope. When her husband died early, she had taken over the running of the estate as well. Her children were as level-headed as herself. She counted herself lucky, except for the youngest everything had turned out quite perfect. Only if Anup –.
Mamon closed the books, the entries all seemed in order, and turned a powerful work-light on with a remote switch. She picked up a bag and started knitting, her gnarled fingers remarkably swift, lightly skimming over the needles and wool in a strangely graceful dance. She compensated for the lack of movement in her legs by moving her hands constantly, over books, over needles, over people. Knitting, spinning, tying, controlling.
The light outside was gone suddenly as the sun dipped under the mountain edge. She remained alert for the returning vehicle as she finished row upon row of stitches, the quiet click-clack of the needles the only sound in the room.
The wheels were on the drive when it had become pitch dark. The headlights lit up the black square of the panes momentarily before being switched off. She looked up once and waited for him to come to her. But Anupam did not come. An hour elapsed, still she knitted and waited. No Anupam. She tired finally and asked her maid to enquire. Anupam was not in his room, nor in the house, she was told. Mamon cast off the baby blanket, and went to dinner at the appointed time. She made it a point of taking meals with the family every night, had done so since her children were babies.
But Anupam did not come to dinner either. Upon enquiry the cook said Anup dadabhai* had asked for a meal about an hour ago and eaten it in the kitchen. The cook did not know where he had gone after he had finished, presumably to bed? Mamon let the subject drop with an impatient yet graceful wave of her hand, – he must have gone to sleep curled up somewhere, it was a large house after all – and wheeled herself back to her own suite. Where had Anup gone? Was he keeping bad company? Or just avoiding her?
Anupam turned the ignition off and felt the old pickup shudder to a stop. Something within him shuddered and came to a dead stop too, dug its heels in. He lifted the packets from the back, they were surprisingly light for their size, the finest silk-merino blend, imported from a foreign designer, the old woman's favoured choice. He walked into the house and for one long minute he wrestled with himself, should he see Mamon and dump the packets and be done? But he could not bear the thought of going into her room, the sharp white light, the sharp white hair, the clicking of the needles, the clicking of her sharp, holier-than-thou tongue, always hassling him to find something to do, something useful and not airy fairy. He was hungry and tired and in no shape to face her.
In the end, he had gone to the kitchen, asked the cook to serve him whatever was available, and had his meal alone in peace. Afterwards, he escaped to the swing in the rarely-used back porch and sat out the rest of the evening there, thinking things through. No-one came to look for him. No-one spotted him sitting and gently rocking in the old fashioned heavy wooden swing-seat. He, on the other hand, vaguely saw the household going about its usual business through the light and shadows on the curtained windows, the muffled noises of cooking in the kitchen, Mamon's wheelchair on the floor as she came out to eat, the murmur of talk rising and falling and then ebbing completely to silence as everyone dispersed to the bedrooms.
The swing was a massive pendulum marking time. Forward. The moon came up over the serrated peaks in a sliver of polished silver, fringed with tattered streamers of clouds. Back. Someone shot the bolt of the kitchen door, and he knew that the side and front entrances would be barred soon too. He snuggled back into the dusty cushions further instead of rising, the seat was wide and deep enough. Forward. Thank goodness there were no mosquitoes buzzing around! Trees were fine things if one did not have to somehow force a livelihood from them. Back. Forward. Stop. He got up from the seat, made for the far corner where a planting of wild roses, Mamon's favourite flowers, marked the boundary. Anupam urinated copiously on the bushes, washed at the hand-pump and splashed water on his face, and returned to the swing inexplicably pleased. As he settled back, someone inside switched off the corridor light. The frosted glass on the door darkened.
Anupam came stiffly into the room, his face inscrutable, the packets piled in his arms. Mamon had unpicked a knitted coat this morning, and was unravelling the wool. A few yards lay already on the floor at her feet. Her hands never stop moving, Anupam stood defiantly silent, always knitting or poking them into books or counting the money she has. Madame Defarge.
Mamon did not speak either, just gestured wordlessly for him to lay the packets on the table. She dropped the coat, tore open the packs and verified the contents. Kiwi tang, magnolia whisper, feathered heather. All three would knit up beautifully. Satisfied, she placed them back.
"Where were you last night?" She beckoned him as she spoke, and pulled both his forearms out as he stepped closer, like parallel rails, "I hear your bed hasn't been slept in?"
Anupam pressed his lips together and looked straight back at her. Mamon reeled in the unravelled wool from the floor and started winding it round his forearms in a large loop as she talked.
"I know exactly how young men spend their time when they are not in their own beds at night," her words were icy, "and I'm telling you, there's no space for that behavior in my house."
Anupam stood like a statue, his arms bent into two Ls by his side, silent and resentful. Mamon's words came as sharp as ever. The loop of wool around his arms got thicker at an incredible speed.
"Look Anup, you're no longer a child. You must figure out what you want to do. You can work here, or in Siliguri wherever you like. Go to the coffee plantation if you prefer. I'm sure Rupam could find you something too at that factory of his. So many options. Young men are desperate for jobs. They'd give anything to be in your position. Just get serious. Start somewhere. I won't have idlers in this family, no breaking of free bread at my table, understand?"
Anupam did not flinch. The wool was a coarse, rough red yarn that scratched persistently against his skin, looped now in a thickness equal to his own wrists. The room seemed to fill entirely with Mamon's cavernous mouth, he could only see her tongue and her hands moving. One looping over and binding his arms, the other looping around his soul.
The monotone went on, threatening, judgmental, sarcastic. He felt a spark of – heat? light? some primeval force start up from deep within himself, at the base of his belly, growing into waves upon waves, rising to asphyxiate him, engulfing his heart and his face and exploding in his brain. In one swift movement he moved the skein of wool forward from his forearm to his fists. Before he knew anything he had thrown the loop over Mamon's neck like a garland and twisted it into a figure of eight. He tightened the noose, increasing pressure on her throat, rendering her speechless. She gasped for air and scrabbled at her throat ineffectually.
"Correct. I'm no child. Mind what you say to me. I don't like your tone. And I don't care to work at fruit and nut jobs," Anupam's voice was equally icy. "I don't want your bread, free or otherwise. I'm leaving."
He loosened his grip after what felt like an aeon to Mamon. She coughed and gasped, the skein of wool still a blood red garland around her neck. Her maid came running in.
"What happened, dadabhai?"
"Look after her," Anupam said as he moved briskly to the door. "I'll get the doctor."
Mamon got her breath back and asked for some water. As she set the glass down, she heard the pickup start, and the gravel spatter as its wheels skidded in a sudden burst of speed.
– End –
Note: *dadabhai – literally, a form of addressing an elder brother. Used by maids and servants to refer to people younger in age but above them in station, especially their employers' children.
Nursery rhyme used as prompt – Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?
By Rohini Sunderam
"It must be a serial killer," said RCMP Superintendent Ray Jones of the Southwest Nova District in charge of Lunenburg County crime in Nova Scotia, "that's the fourth one in as many days and all the bodies had a live fish next to them."
"That's the signature for sure, but how many more can we expect and who?" asked deputy Sarah Muller as the fourth victim's body was loaded into the police van to be sent to forensics in Dartmouth.
Jones nodded, "Mahone Bay is so small, Sarah, there's not even a thousand people here. Four killed is a shocking number. The news has hit The Herald and gone national on CBC. We'd better find the killer before this gets out of hand, eh?"
"What other clues do we have?" Sarah asked examining the small dock on which the man's body had been found. He was fully clothed with his fisherman's cap soaked in blood. His neck was slit from ear to ear like a gutted fish. His body was cold and blue as the Atlantic.
"There's three at the forensics hospital over in Dartmouth already," Jones grunted, not happy with the situation. "And now this."
"I'll call and ask, I know Dr. Boudreau. She was with me at Park View in Bridgewater."
"Ah yes! You privileged Bacca-whatever lot!"
"Baccalaureate," Sarah interjected looking up at the burly commissioner as she crouched on the jetty searching for clues. At forty-seven years old he was still a handsome man, fit and muscular, big in the chest. A one-time hockey-hopeful, he had played with the likes of Glen Murray.
She wasn't sure if he was teasing her or had a tinge of envy against her and others who had been fortunate enough to attend Park View Education Centre, one of the more elite high schools in the province. With it was a sense of unease. A dark curtain clouded an older memory, one that had been erased after the therapy she'd undergone, which had then unlocked her 'brilliance'.
"Yeah, call her. We need any clues we can get. A fish, a live fish, it doesn't make sense."
"The mafia used to do that, but it was always a dead fish sent as a warning before the killing, not after," Sarah stood up and rapidly keyed in the Dartmouth Forensic Hospital number, while her eyes still scoured the edge of the dock where it merged with gravel, grass and little wild violets.
"Can you put me through to Dr. Amy Boudreau, please," she said as soon as the operator came on. "It's urgent." A few seconds later her old friend and mentor answered and Sarah switched to speakerphone.
"Amy, you have the bodies from the Mahone Bay murders? Any clues, other than that their necks were slit from ear to ear."
"Yes, a strange one," Amy replied, "All three bodies have human teeth marks on the little finger of the right hand."
"Teeth marks!" Sarah exclaimed, feeling sick. "You mean as if the killer had bitten their fingers? Can you tell if it was before or after the time of death?"
Amy continued, "Most likely after, there's no sign of a struggle. A live human being would have certainly pulled his or her hand away. The first victim was a woman, older than the other two. A retired teacher from the old Lunenburg Academy, I understand."
"There's a fourth body on the way, Amy. I think there's a bite on the right little finger too. It makes no sense. Thanks, I may call again," Sarah hung up and looked at the Superintendent.
"And the other two young men went to that school too," he replied, "If this victim attended the school we have a connection."
As they entered the car, Ray Jones called the station, "We need to know if this last victim attended Lunenburg Academy and fast," he snarled into the phone.
Sarah gunned the car into action as they sped back leaving the picturesque seaside town, shooting past the Mahone Bay Museum, Mug & Anchor bar and on to headquarters at Lunenburg. They sat in silence wondering what grotesque mind could have spawned this sudden and violent attack on the innocent folk of this tiny town.
Ray switched on the radio and tuned it to CBC in Halifax.
Sarah winced, "Do we have to hear this?"
"We need to know if the news of our fourth victim has got out."
The radio crackled as the car sped along and the newsreader intoned dispassionately, "The latest news on the horror at Mahone Bay, a small fishing village in Nova Scotia, has authorities baffled. A fourth victim has been found killed in the same way. Suggestions are that a serial killer is on the loose. The RCMP could not be reached for a statement, we have…"
Ray reached out and killed the radio, "How th' feck do they know so soon!"
Sarah pulled into the station and both officers rushed in to see if anything more had been learned.
"Nothing new," said Garry Mills, "except, yes, the fourth victim also attended Lunenburg Academy. He was a couple of classes junior to me. They all were. And all in the same class, except the woman. She was a teacher."
"An old classmate with a grudge?" Sarah asked.
Ray followed, "What class did she teach? Garry, you're probably our best lead."
"The young ones, Grade two or three, maybe. The kids loved her, as I remember."
"What would spark this so suddenly and now?" Ray asked.
"Has anyone been away from your school and returned lately?" Sarah added.
"It's tourist season so it would be hard to narrow things down." Garry replied.
"Why four people and all with a fish next to them?" Sarah voiced the others' thoughts.
"Let's see what we can uncover at the Bluenose Academy," Ray said to Sarah, "the old school closed down, remember? You stay here Garry, and if you remember anything of importance about these guys call us!"
"We need to speak to the oldest teachers," Superintendent Jones explained to Ms White the headmistress. "This is not to worry present-day students but anyone who knew Mrs. Haines would be helpful."
"I knew her," Headmistress White replied. "She retired a few months ago in April. I can't think of anyone who would want to harm her."
"Anything at all that you can recall," Sarah added.
"There was a minor incident but good heavens, that was maybe twenty years ago." Ms White's forehead formed a series of tiny ridges and her eyes narrowed as she concentrated. "Something to do with a little boy with a lisp. He ran away from school because some kids teased him about it. I don't believe he came back to the school."
"His name?" Ray prompted.
"Or the names of the other children?" Sarah added. "We could prevent another horrendous killing if we knew."
"You'll have to check the archives, dear. Didn't you attend the Academy?"
"No," Sarah replied, "I don't really remember my early school years. I was in therapy for a while."
The two were directed to the digitised archives and given a password.
Back in the office they headed to their desks, "Dig. That's what we're going to have to do," Ray Jones looked at Sarah as they settled down in front of their computers. "Twenty years ago from today. You take 1993 and I'll look at 1994."
"Would the incident have been recorded?" Sarah asked, "I mean some of the schools used to cover these things up."
"Just search for Mrs Haines. If nothing shows up you go to 1992 and I'll move up to 1995."
"What are the young men's names? Maybe that could help?" Sarah's heart was thumping like a landed fish. For no clear reason she sensed the need for urgency. Four down, how many more to go?
Garry came forward, "the names," he said handing Sarah and Ray a sheet each.
As they scanned the list, all three said in unison, "It's alphabetical!"
"That's it," Ray said, "there's Albert, Bernie and Chad."
"But Mrs Haines is an 'H' so how does that work?" Sarah asked.
"She's a teacher, maybe that doesn't count. Keep looking." Ray said.
"I fear there's going to be a fifth one, and it's going to be today!" Sarah was shaking.
"Calm down, Sarah," Ray looked over to her, "Calm down, I fear that too."
"Me too," Garry added, "I mean one, two, three, four…no one ever stops counting at four!"
"It's that nursery rhyme!" Sarah shouted, "One, two, three, four, five. Once I caught a fish alive. That's sort of how psychopaths think, isn't it?" She felt sick in her stomach as she recalled the rhyme.
"Garry, think about it," Ray said to his second assistant, "Was there ever anything to do with a nursery rhyme?"
A few seconds of pacing around the office and Garry said, "Yes, I think so. A bunch of boys used to tease this kid with a lisp. I think they used to make him recite it and laugh."
"The headmistress said something about a kid with a lisp who ran away." Sarah stood up and joined Garry, pacing alongside him and matching his stride.
"Garry, names, we need names," Ray looked at the two on the floor, "Sarah you look to see if there's a kid with a name beginning with D or E next on the list. Garry cast your mind back or call someone."
Sarah was back at her computer, "D has Diana, Deena, these are girls, you sure they were only boys, Garry?"
Garry nodded, "Yes, I think so. Deena is fine, she runs the bakery in Mahone Bay. Took it over from her parents. She may remember." He keyed in Deena Baskin's number, the cell phone buzzed. He held the phone to his ear for a full thirty seconds, no one answered. Then with a hoarse whisper he said, "Oh my God! No. They weren't all boys. Deena was part of the gang that terrorised this kid."
Ray stood up, "Sarah," he said calmly, "You stay here, Garry and I will go make sure Deena is okay."
Sarah locked the front door and sat waiting. A slow dread crept up her spine as that curtain that hid the old memories flicked apart.
She wasn't Sarah, she was Erin and she recalled the young boy as nine of them danced around him, "Say it again," they mocked.
Poor little Donny whimpered as he said,
"One, two, free, four, five.
Onth I caught a fith alive.
Thix, Theven, eight, nine, ten.
Then I let it go again.
Why did you let it go?
Because it bit my finger tho.
Which finger did it bite?
This little finger on my righth."
She had been the worst of them. Poking him, laughing into his face. She had liked him, but didn't want the others to know and so she had teased him the worst of all. Then he'd run away and the guilt of it had sent her into a fever and she had passed out. When she recovered, she didn't go back to Lunenburg Academy. Her parents put her into therapy and made her middle name her first name.
"Oh, my God! What did we do?" Sarah moaned as she rocked in her chair, hugging her stomach. "I was the monster."
A loud thumping on the door shook her out of her daze.
"Erin!" A deep smooth voice called, "I recognised you the other day, sitting in the cop car, an RCMP officer and all. Then, it came back to me. The therapy and a new school. Me too, Erin, me too. I don't have a lisp any more. Open up Erin, I just want to say hello!"
– End –
By Vijay Boloor
It was a bright moony night and all was peaceful in Mouseville. One night not long ago, Mariam Mouse the head teacher of Mickey High school settled herself at her desk.
A cup of piping hot tea, at her side, she settled down to mark the workbook of class four mice students. Their syllabus was learning to differentiate cheese, breads and cakes.
She was nodding her head with disapproval as she went through the books, red pen in hand.
"I don't know what will happen to this young generation, no interest in academics." Mariam muttered to herself.
She glanced at her tiny clock on the wall, it was just past one am. She was a little worried. Misha, her young son, was not home yet it was way past lunch time and he was never so late.
His favorite pumpkin soup and slice of cheese lay on the table. Misha was always home around this time. He was a good mouse kid and had just finished high school. He was ready to go to college to study survival skills. He was keen to study defense and attack tactics, how to dodge cats and dogs.
Soon after one o'clock a sudden flurry of activity jolted her out of her books. She came running out to see what the ruckus was, and who was thumping at her door.
"Miss, open up quick!" The door banging increased in volume and frequency.
Mariam sensed the urgency and rushed to open the door and as soon as the door opened half a dozen neighborhood mice barged in.
Three young mice were carrying her son Misha, who looked unconscious and limp. They cleared the couch tossing aside small stuff on the floor. They even flung her half knitted sweater out, and the leader amongst them and signaled the boys to lay him there.
Misha was all knocked out and there was no bleeding nor any injury visible.
Mariam Mouse was in a panic, her mouth and eyes wide open, dumbfounded and speechless. Her school teacher mentality kicked in. "Call the doctor, call the doctor! "she squeaked."My poor little Misha," Mariam wailed. She was almost upon him cuddling her unconscious son lying on the sofa. How many times have I told him not to go out with you naughty boys. What happened to him and where did you all take him?
The eldest of three young mouse kids Seymon with a quivering voice replied,"There was a big party in the neighborhood at Lord Colton's house and we were hunting for cheese and some cake."
"But what happened to Misha?" Mariam interrupted.
"He got hit by the golden ball," Seymon blurted out.
"You foolish boys how many times have the elders warned you never to go play with that wretched machine, and especially with the golden ball, how many times?" Mariam was furious.
The three young mice put their heads down, their tails curled inwards.
Seymon said "Aunty it was Misha who insisted we go there and play."
"And you guys agreed. You are the elder, could you have not stopped him."
On the streets of Mouseville hardly an incident occurred that went unnoticed by Rocky and his crew. Rocky Rodent was a mouse of action, mostly violent ones.
Rocky rodent, the Mouseville strongman, judge, jury and executioner of this pack of homely rats.
He excelled in the techniques of terror, expert in untangling traps, fighting snakes and frogs. His extensive knowledge of poisons and baits, he knew how to avoid them and neutralize them.
It pleased his sense of pride and ego that all of Mouseville called him protector of Mousekind… the MIGHTYMOUSE. Swearing and shaking his fists Rocky barged in Mariam's house. "How's the kid?" he snapped.
Mariam raised her head and looked at him, disciplinarian that she was, she intensely disliked Rocky.
She admired his ferocity. She didn't like his hygiene. She liked his bravery but not his vagabond lifestyle, but today was different. He was her only saviour. She looked at him in jeans and white shirt with a blue waist coat, smelling of stale cigarette.
Rocky had come to help, with Speedy on his heels, Speedy Gonzales was his fellow conspirator, a tough brown mouse fast and a ruthless assassin.
Speedy, who also killed frogs and snakes, never backed down in a quarrel. It was rumored in and around Mouseville even young cats were afraid to cross his path.
Speedy always awed Rocky mentally and physically. He too detested his personal hygiene and scruffy looks but nothing could hide the alert intelligence of Rocky's eyes.
The young mice filled in the details of the accident to Rocky.
"When did this happen" queried Speedy.
"When the clock struck one," was the chorus reply.
"What are we doing about this damned machine?" Mariam asked with a dejected look
A quick committee meeting was formed. Tito the old mouse chaired the group.
"Yup, it has injured many in our community, you remember Zack? Mickeys brother in law I mean Minnie's younger brother, he had died from the impact."
Yeah everybody remembered Mickey's brother in law Zack.
Mickey was the most famous mouse personality of all time, everyone knew him, and people forgot Zack but remembered Mickey.
"Boss the damned machine, let us destroy it." Speedy said looking right into Rocky's eyes. "Yeah it's a good idea to destroy it but it's pretty dangerous. Lord Colton has two big cats," Wailed Tito the old mouse.
There was silence. Everyone looked around and half of them were looking at Rocky. He was the community's choice if it had to be done.
"We can't stand and watch all the time, it injuring our youth. That giant machine must come down. Boys will be boys and mice will be mice. It's bound to happen again. It's time it came down," said Mariam.
Rocky and Speedy had a quick huddle meeting and both nodding came back to the room.
"We will do it!!!" said Rocky with determination.
Rocky, without wasting any time, quickly got into action. He and Speedy went to their garage where they lived and got his crew together.
Rocky loved a challenge, as chief of expedition, guerrilla warfare to bring the machine down.
"Get the gear and let's go before it's daylight and don't forget to pack the Cat trap."
"We will need it, I can feel it," added Speedy.
They marched into Lord Colton's mansion, and found their way into his living room followed by his dirty dozen mice.
Rocky surveyed the imposing giant grandfather clock standing tall as the Empire State Building.
"Tonight you are coming down baby," Rocky yelled to his team.
They were fully equipped with all the rigs and gears of a construction crew but Rocky had deconstruction on his mind.
"Down! Down!" Chorused the mice gang.
"Jigs you take three from the gang and saw away 4 inches from the front left foot of the clock," ordered Rocky.
Sal said I will take the front right leg and moved swiftly with his team to tackle his mission.
Rocky explained to Tiny who was his team's gymnast how to harness the pendulum, the golden ball.
"Tiny you tie the gong and harness it around the pillar."
"When the bloody clock falls the gong will be yanked right out of the clock mama mia" Rocky smirked in delight.
"Right boss" squeaked Tiny…
"Meow" the chilling sound echoed across the hall all the mice froze and took cover! The cat was on the prowl.
Speedy gave a quick glance and signaled Tiny to take position on the dining table and pass him one end of the twine.
Speedy and his crew had studied cat behavioral psychology, they knew that the cats get attracted to circles, they feel safe in them.
They worked fast and laid out a ring of thick rope laced with fish oil and fragments of fish, two sets of twine passed through the circle with a team of 4 mice holding on to each end.
They waited. The mice are not known for their patience, but in this case they waited.This was not the first time they were trapping a cat, the cat just stood at the entrance head cocked, looking in the dark trying to smell something.
The mice gang were quiet there was absolute silence in the room. After almost an eternity the cat moved. It hovered around the strange unfamiliar circle, but the familiar smell of fish lured it right in the trap.
Split seconds later the mice reared into action. Pulling their twines in unison coordinating and looping it twice, the cats two rear feet were entangled and tied in the loop.
She yelped and meowed, the rats grunted, and pulled harder and tied the cat's feet firmly and fastened them to the leg of the heavy dining table.
Speedy acted fast and put a brown paper bag on her face, to keep her confused and quiet.
"Team let's get back to our main mission." It was half past two and at the strike of three they needed to finish. Also there was the threat of the other cat coming.
The teams got down to sawing the left leg of the giant grandfather clock with frenzy, the speed of rats was incredible and in no time it was done.
"Boss the saw broke. What shall we do? We are almost done," Jigs said meekly.
Speedy and Rocky surveyed the leg and noticed it was practically done. A few more strokes would do the job. To go back and get new saws would be unwise. A quick conference decided they would hammer away the last part of the almost sawed of leg. A team got in position pulling the twine tied to the leg.
It was time just before three. All the mice were in safe areas pulling the rope. Speedy volunteered to do the last hammering as he was the fastest to run before the clock crashed.
At three o'clock sharp the clock couldn't gong as the pendulum was fastened. A final signal was given, the last bang of the hammer, a hard pull from the mice team and the giant clock came down crashing on the floor.
Before the Colton house hold could wake up and come to see what had happened the mice were out and away in a victorious mood.
This event surely called for a major celebration. The news of the downing of the clock spread like wild fire in Mouseville. Every mouse came out bringing their choicest food and there was singing and dancing, there was squeaking and prancing.
Meanwhile in Mariam's house, Misha was slowly coming round opening his eyes. "Hi Mom," he smiled and Mariam was relieved.
She too had heard the news of the downing of the great clock. She also heard the noise of celebration and singing of the mice gathering in front of Rocky's garage.
She took Misha, who seemed fine and had miraculously recovered, to the street party to celebrate, and to show her appreciation and respect to Rocky and his team.
There was a great deal of celebration, Rocky's garage was decorated in colorful paper flags. The happy mice danced and distributed cheese and cake crumbs.
Hickory Dickory Dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
And the mouse came down
Hickory dickory dock.
From that day onwards this rhyme was deleted from the mouse nursery books.
Mariam introduced a new poem in Mickey high and now the mice kids learn this nursery rhyme.
Hickory Dickory Dock
The Rocky ran up the clock
The Mice struck one
And the Clock crashed down
Hickory Dickory dock.
– End –


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In hindsight I should have baked this bread as a Ciabatta since it ended up such a slack and wet dough. While I was working on the final formulas and trying to figure out what hydration level to use for maple syrup and sweet potatoes I discovered that sweet potatoes are extremely high in water. In fact they are around 85% water which I now know is the main reason why this dough ended up so wet. Next time I bake this one I would definitely adjust the water content to get it down to around 70-75% hydration or cut down some of the sweet potatoes.
In any case since I wasn't using my head when baking this one I used my bannetons to place the extremely wet dough and ended up with 2 flattish breads but great tasting none the less.
I wanted to make a nice flavorful fall style bread so I figured the maple syrup would go great with the sweet potatoes and some oat flour and rolled oats with crushed pecans couldn't hurt either.
One thing I did a little different in this bake was to add part of the sweet potatoes to the second build of the starter. It did not seem to have any detrimental effects on the starter other than as I now know to make it much wetter than usual.
If you decide to try this one yourself I would either bake it as a Ciabatta bread or lower the amount of potatoes or water.
The overall taste of this bread was excellent with a nice moist crumb and hints of maple syrup and crunchy pecans. You don't really taste the sweet potatoes but they are there in the background adding subtle overtones of sweetness.
Levain Directions
Build 1
Mix all the levain ingredients together for about 1 minute and cover with plastic wrap. Let it sit at room temperature for around 7-8 hours or until the starter has doubled. I used my proofer set at 83 degrees F. and it took around 5 hours.
Build 2
Add the stage 2 ingredients to the first Build and mix thoroughly until incorporated. Cover and let sit at room temperature or in your proofer if you have one. In my proofer it took around 4 hours to double. You can either use it immediately in the main dough or put it in the refrigerator overnight and use the next day.
Main Dough Procedure
Mix the flours, and the water together in your mixer or by hand until it just starts to come together, maybe about 1 minute. Let it rest in your work bowl covered for 20-30 minutes. Next add the salt, starter, balsamic and sweet potatoes and mix on low for 6 minutes. Add the pecan pieces and mix for an additional minute to incorporate them evenly. Remove the dough from your bowl and place it in a lightly oiled bowl or work surface and do several stretch and folds. Let it rest covered for 10-15 minutes and then do another stretch and fold. Let it rest another 10-15 minutes and do one additional stretch and fold. Since this dough is so wet I did a total of 5 stretch and folds but if you adjust the hydration you won't need to do this. After a total of 2 hours place your covered bowl in the refrigerator and let it rest for 12 to 24 hours.
When you are ready to bake remove the bowl from the refrigerator and let it set out at room temperature still covered for 1.5 to 2 hours. Remove the dough and shape as desired. Place your dough into your proofing basket(s) and cover with a moist tea towel or plastic wrap sprayed with cooking spray or use your favorite Ciabatta shaping method.
The dough will take 1.5 to 2 hours depending on your room temperature. Let the dough dictate when it is read to bake not the clock.
Around 45 minutes before ready to bake, pre-heat your oven to 500 degrees F. and prepare it for steam. I have a heavy-duty baking pan on the bottom rack of my oven with 1 baking stone on above the pan and one on the top shelf. I pour 1 cup of boiling water in the pan right after I place the dough in the oven.
Right before you are ready to put them in the oven, score as desired and then add 1 cup of boiling water to your steam pan or follow your own steam procedure.
After 1 minute lower the temperature to 450 degrees. Bake for 35-50 minutes until the crust is nice and brown and the internal temperature of the bread is 205 degrees.
Take the bread out of the oven when done and let it cool on a bakers rack for at least 2 hours before eating.
This post has been submitted to the Yeast Spotting Site here: http://www.wildyeastblog.com/category/yeastspotting/.

subset: commoncrawl


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Facebook "Acqhires" Acrylic App Designer Dustin MacDonald
Canada-based design studio Acrylic announced Friday that founder and engineer Dustin MacDonald has been "acqhired" by Facebook. It's a talent deal, which means Acrylic's existing apps and technology — Pulp and Wallet — aren't a part of the purchase, and will continue to be available (though not developed further). MacDonald will join the Facebook design team under Kate Aronowitz, the current Facebook director of design.


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I got into my sport because I was following my older brother. He did it first, in high school, and introduced me to it. His name is Mike Kwan. He's five years older than me.
Growing up I also played badminton. I actually did everything in high school [St. Andrew's Catholic] in Victoria ... volleyball, basketball. Then I got a little bit too short. I'm only 5-3 so I didn't have the height for volleyball or basketball. But badminton was the one I liked the most.
The best thing that ever happened to me because I'm an athlete is - and it's pretty cheesy - is that I met my husband Ryan through fencing. So that's probably the best thing that came out of fencing. I learned to fence at the YMCA in Victoria and he was also fencing there. I met him when I was about 12, which is about a decade before I actually started dating him.
My last meal before competition consists of pasta. Well, the night before competition at least. I tend to try and eat some sort of Italian food. Generally, in a lot of countries, the easiest thing to find is kind of like a spaghetti bolognese. So that's usually what I'm eating because it's the easiest Italian dish to find.
When I'm not competing or training, you'll likely find me - ha, ha, well, it doesn't happen very often - I hang out on the couch or, like this morning, I was just hanging out with my in-laws' dog. I live in New West, but I usually train in Victoria. So when I'm in Victoria, I stay at their house and they have this dog. I don't know if I am a couch potato but I strive to be one in my spare time.
If I wasn't an athlete, I'd be ... That's what I'm trying to figure out right now. I think that I will likely retire after the Olympics and I am actually very much thinking about the question of 'what would I do?' I don't know if I have an answer for that yet because I have been fencing my whole life. I have a commerce degree from UVic so I'd probably find a way to utilize that, but I'm not sure what that is yet. Recently I've been thinking about 'could I have my own fencing club and run it like a business?' So things like that cross my mind. It's something I'm going to have to figure out in September.
The last book I read was Divergent. It was the No. 1 book at Chapters so that's why I bought it. It's like Hunger Games-esque. I usually carry my book around with me and read it on the plane, or whatever.
My favourite music is pretty eclectic. I like most music. The only kinds I'm not a big fan of are classical and country. I tire of my music pretty fast and I rotate through them because I need to listen to things that pump me up, especially when I'm working out. So, usually I like something with a good beat.
Something people don't know about me is I recently took up knitting. I've knitted a dishcloth and now I'm knitting a scarf. I was in China [in May] and I went on a hunt to find yarn, which is hard in a foreign country where you don't speak the language. But I did manage to find yarn.
My celebrity crush is Channing Tatum. I like him. He's a handsome guy. He's in The Vow, which I watched, and he's got another moving coming out, the new G.I. Joe movie.
My Olympics will be a success if I get there - and I'm going, so I'm already successful. To me, the process of qualifying is such a huge journey that going is almost the cherry on the cake.
My goal when I compete is to feel good and just to fence well. Everything else will fall into place after that. I am going to fence on the first day of the Olympics, [July] the 28th.
Birthdate: Jan. 15, 1984
Hometown: Victoria
Event: Foil
Career highlights: The lone British Columbian on Canada's five-member Olympic fencing team, Peterson will be making her Olympic debut. She is ranked 31st in the world and finished 45th at the 2011 world championships. She won a bronze medal at the 2011 Pan-American Games.
• ABOUT FENCING (July 28 to Aug. 5):
• Fencing made its Olympic debut in Athens in 1896 at the first Games of the modern era.
• The Olympic fencing competition consists of three styles: épée, foil and sabre.
• According to www.london2012.com's 'Jargon buster' the épée is the heaviest weapon of the three and is considered a "true duelling sword."
• The foil originated from the court sword, and targets the torso area of the opponent, according to the jargon buster.
• Sabre originated from a cavalry sword. Competitors score points by striking their opponent with the edge of the sword to a target above the waist.
• Two of the three fencing styles - men's foil and sabre events - were part of the 1896 Olympics. Épée made its debut four years later in Paris.
• Women's foil made its debut at the 1924 Olympics. Épée made its debut women's competition debut in 1996, while sabre was included in the 2004 Olympics.
• There will be 212 competitors at the 2012 Olympics, including 105 men and 107 women. Each country is limited to eight men and eight women for all events. There are 10 medal events, which means there are 30 medals available.
• Individual fencing competitions consist of three periods, which are three minutes long. A competitor can win with 15 hits against his or her opponent.
• Team fencing competitions include three members. The competition consists of nine three-minute periods, and a team must reach a maximum of 45 hits to win.
• Canada has yet to win a medal in fencing.
• The women's épée team finished fourth at the 2004 Olympics in Athens, losing the bronze medal match to France by a final score of 45-37.
Cam Tucker, Vancouver Sun


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our Doctors and Dr. Matt Spears, D.C.
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Enhancing Mail Visibility with GPS
With so much technology at their fingertips, customers now want and expect complete visibility of their mail, from entry to delivery. The Intelligent Mail barcode (IMb) program has helped to bring total visibility closer to reality, and other technologies, such as radio frequency identification (RFID) and global positioning system (GPS) tracking, can fill the gaps. Complete visibility of mail provides real-time information about mail to customers and the U.S. Postal Service, including service performance data.


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|琴姫 Kotohime
|Naruto Episode #139
|Appears in
|Voice Actors
Kotohime (琴姫, Kotohime) is a member from the Fūma clan who sided with Orochimaru alongside Arashi, Jigumo, Kagerō, and Kamikiri when the clan fell on hard times.
After the Fūma clan finished a war with a neighbouring country, they wandered the Land of Rice Fields hoping to settle down. Near the end of their journey, Orochimaru and Kimimaro appeared before the Fūma and told them that if they joined Otogakure that Orochimaru would help in restoring their power. Kotohime agreed and went with them. Orochimaru taught her how to play a koto at some point.
Kotohime has shown to be quite slick, and serious in a way. She has also shown manipulative skills, as she was able to drug Jiraiya, leaving him full of many openings, nearly even seducing him. During her attempt to kill him, she had showed signs of insanity, claiming that she was going to take Jiraiya and herself to the underworld under Orochimaru's orders.
Kotohime has long black hair, which is in a hime-style cut, and black, pupiless eyes. Attire-wise, she wears a pale green form-fitting vest, with an opening in the centre which shows off her cleavage and her stomach, and a camouflage-patterned scarf and skirt. She is also see wearing a red kimono while she was distracting Jiraiya. She wears a black bra. She has a black belt holding up her skirt. She also wears black shinobi shoes.
Kotohime has shown the ability to use her chakra to freely manipulate her hair. This technique binds her opponent, making it difficult for them to move.
She is also skilled in the use of drugs as she was able to drug Jiraiya's cup of sake. However, Jiraiya noticed when she did so.
Part I
Land of Rice Fields Investigation Mission
Jiraiya walked in through Orochimaru's lair entrance, and went through one of the tunnels. As he was walking forward in the tunnel, he smelled the scent of white makeup powder, and heard the sound of a koto. Jiraiya continued to walk forward as he saw an opened door with a dark scenery in the background. In there was Kotohime playing the koto, telling Jiraiya that her orders were to entertain their "guests". Kotohime gave Jiraiya a bottle of sake (which was drugged), and a small cup for him to drink it.
As he was drinking the sake, he was starting to grow suspicious as Kotohime was from Otogakure, and can be casting an illusion on him with the sound of the koto. Kotohime walked up to Jiraiya and sat close to him, telling him that the melody she was playing was for her. Jiraiya pushed her back (as Kotohime was starting to seduce him), claiming not to underestimate him. However, she sliced his wrist with her drugged fingertip picks, causing Jiraiya to fall to the ground. Kotohime then bound him with her hair and revealed her true orders, which was to kill any intruders.
Kotohime literally goes insane, claiming that she will take herself and Jiraiya to the underworld. The fake ceiling above them falls on them, which was part of Kotohime's plan to "destroy" the intruders encountering her. The outcome of this battle was not shown. Soon after the battle between Arashi, Naruto Uzumaki, and Sakura Haruno was finished, and the hideout begins to collapse, Kotohime along with the rest of Jiraiya's team was saved. She was shown unconscious on one of Jiraiya's frogs.
As Jiraiya left the Land of Rice Fields, he talked about Kotohime with Hanzaki, causing her to frown. As Jiraiya left, she along with the rest of the Fūma Clan were waving goodbye to Jiraiya, Naruto, and Sakura.
- "Kotohime" (琴姫) means "Koto Princess" or "Princess of the Koto". A koto is a Japanese stringed instrument.


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Optic neuritis is a condition that affects the eye and your vision, and occurs when the optic nerve is inflamed.
The optic nerve sends messages from your eyes to your brain so that you can interpret visual images. When the optic nerve is irritated and inflamed, it doesn't carry messages to the brain as well, and you can't see clearly.
Facts about optic neuritis
Optic neuritis can affect your vision and even cause pain. When the nerve fibers become inflamed, the optic nerve can also start to swell. This swelling typically affects one eye, but can affect both at the same time.
Optic neuritis can strike both adults and children. The underlying cause isn't completely understood, but experts believe that a viral infection may prompt the immune system to attack the optic nerve as if it were a foreign invader.
Loss of vision in optic neuritis commonly reaches its maximum effect within a few days and starts improving within four to 12 weeks.
Even if the cause of optic neuritis isn't always clear, it is a common condition among those who have multiple sclerosis (MS), a progressive, neurologic disorder. Over 60 percent of people who have MS will develop optic neuritis, and often, it's the first sign of MS.
Diminished vision is usually the main symptom of optic neuritis. The following visual difficulties are common:
Trouble distinguishing colors, or noticing that colors aren't as vibrant as usual
Vision that appears blurry—particularly if it occurs after your body temperature has risen—after you've just taken a hot shower or finished a workout, for instance
Inability to see out of one eye
Abnormal reaction of the pupil when exposed to bright light
Pain in the eye, especially when you move it
The symptoms of optic neuritis can vary widely in severity. More extensive optic nerve inflammation leads to more noticeable symptoms.
Just because you experience severe symptoms doesn't necessarily mean that optic neuritis will never go away. Additionally, not everyone who has optic neuritis has problems with his or her vision. It's possible for the optic nerve to be inflamed without affecting vision. A careful, medical evaluation of the eye can generally pinpoint optic neuritis even in the absence of symptoms.
A doctor can diagnose optic neuritis with these tests:
Thorough medical exam
Evaluating your eyes' response to direct bright light
Testing of visual acuity using the letter chart to see how well you can see
MRI scan of the brain
Testing of the ability to differentiate color
Complete examination of the back of the eye, known as the fundus
More testing may help to determine the underlying cause of the optic neuritis. However, identifying a specific cause isn't always possible.
In some cases, optic neuritis may not require treatment. After a few weeks, the disorder sometimes goes away on its own and normal vision returns. This is more common in people who don't have another health condition that has obviously triggered the optic neuritis.
Sometimes a doctor may recommend a brief course of steroids, usually given by vein, to help your vision improve more quickly and minimize inflammation and swelling.
You may also need treatment for another health condition if it's considered the source of your optic neuritis.
Calling the doctor
If you experience eye pain or any trouble with your vision, you should visit your doctor for an eye exam. If you've already been diagnosed with optic neuritis, call your doctor if your symptoms change, worsen, or just don't get any better.
Since doctors can't always identify the cause of optic neuritis, it's not known how to prevent it.
Taking corticosteroids on a long-term basis can lead to side effects, such as high blood sugar, weight gain, and bone problems, that affect your whole body. Overall, most studies haven't found that corticosteroids lead to better outcomes than allowing the condition to run its course, particularly given the risk for side effects of steroids. In people with certain brain changes seen on MRI, though, intravenous steroids may help prevent future episodes of optic neuritis.
Key points to remember
Just because optic neuritis often clears up without treatment doesn't mean that you shouldn't seek medical advice. If you have optic neuritis, you may actually have another health condition that's causing it. A complete medical examination may help your doctor find other health conditions that can be treated.


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June 6, 2013
by Steve Kadel
Moab - The Times Independent
Commercial helicopter tours within 25 miles of Canyonlands Field Airport could begin in less than two weeks.
The Grand County Council approved a lease agreement Tuesday, June 4, with Las Vegas-based Pinnacle Helicopters to occupy office space at the airport. That opens the door for tours, which Pinnacle partner Ben Black of Durango, Colo., said the company hopes to begin by June 15.
The council voted 6-1 to allow the lease. Council vice chairman Lynn Jackson voted against the move, saying more information is needed about where Pinnacle will fly.
"I don't have much comfort level right now on what their plan is," Jackson said. "Rather than just voting on a lease, I'd rather learn a little more about their plans."
He added he's opposed to "the Disneyfication" of the Moab area "any more than it already is."
But council member Jim Nyland, who made the motion to approve the lease, noted the Grand County Airport Board had already given its blessing to the proposal. The council should follow that recommendation, he said.
"That's why we have boards," Nyland said.
Council member Pat Holyoak said Pinnacle should be allowed to pursue its business vision.
"I've been on those tours and I didn't find it that offensive," she said.
Moab Mayor Dave Sakrison, the city's liaison to the airport board, said during an interview that the city and county have no authority to regulate the business.
"The FAA [Federal Aviation Administration] controls the airspace," he said. "We don't have much say. Once they get off the ground, that's it."
Canyonlands Field Airport Manager Kelly Braun said Pinnacle has the necessary letter of authorization through Federation Aviation Regulation Part 91. He added that the authorization limits the company to a 25-mile radius of Canyonlands Field and allows takeoffs and landings only at the airport.
"They will not conduct any flights over national parks," Braun said. "That's not allowed. I believe they will try to establish a route that will not negatively impact the area they're flying over.
"Ben [Black] is very aware of the sensitive nature of our area. He is more than willing to work with the community."
U.S. Bureau of Land Management Recreation Planner Jennifer Jones, of the Moab field office, said during an interview that a representative of Pinnacle talked with her Jan. 4 to ask some questions. She called it a "cursory" meeting.
"They seemed interested in resource concerns, but I have not heard anything from them since that January meeting," Jones said. "I had hoped there would be more follow-up."
She said Pinnacle asked about the possibility of landing on BLM property and giving clients "a walk-around scenic opportunity." However, that idea was not pursued, Jones said.
She emphasized that the BLM has no jurisdiction over commercial air activities unless they land on BLM property.
Black, the Pinnacle partner from Colorado, told council members the number of flights will be determined by customer demand.
"We're looking at the area west of the airport that is already highly impacted by jeeps, ATVs and motorcycles," he said. "We have no desire to fly over wilderness areas.
"We are not going to be flying over rock climbers. We will not buzz people on the Green River. Our goal is to come to Moab as a reputable business. We don't want to come here and make everybody mad."
Black's comments did not satisfy three area citizens who spoke during the meeting.
"We're only talking about them benefiting a small number of tourists, but the sound will affect everybody on the ground," said Carolyn Dailey.
Kevin Walker also spoke against helicopter tours. At the least, he said, Pinnacle officials should put their intended routes in writing.
"We all know how it will affect us," said Kiley Miller. "Nobody wants to be in a wilderness area with the chop, chop, chop of a helicopter. Tourists come here for the silence, for that peace. A 25-mile radius is large."
Source: http://www.moabtimes.com
Thursday, June 06, 2013
County council action opens door for commercial helicopter tours: Canyonlands Field Airport (KCNY), Moab, Utah
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A constitutional amendment authorizing CPRIT was proposed to the voters in November 2007. (In Texas, lots of things that could be passed legislatively elsewhere require amending the constitution, so that it's now a very long document indeed.) With a pot of money second only to the NIH's (up to $300 million in bonds per year was authorized for 10 years for a total of $3 billion), its ambitious goal was to make progress against cancer while making Texas a real leader in cancer research. Enabling legislation was passed and the institute got off to a good start in 2009 by putting together a leadership team that included Nobel prize winner Alfred Gilman as Chief Scientific Officer and Phillip Sharp (another Nobel prize winner) as head of its Scientific Review Council. The press release announcing Sharp's appointment stated:
Research and prevention grant applications will be assessed using an external- to-Texas peer review process. . . . [P]olicies and processes [are being formalized] that will ensure CPRIT funds only the best scientific research and prevention projects, measures its success and shares results on progress so that Texas will lead the nation as a model for cancer research and prevention programs.
The process was formalized; and the 2009 Policies and Procedures Guide has a diagram showing that grants were supposed to be submitted electronically, be triaged for merit, and (if they survived initial triage) first go through scientific peer review, then go through commercialization review for business worthiness (only if they were translational projects), be recommended for funding, and then be submitted for review and final funding approval by the CPRIT Oversight Committee (cf. State Audit report, Appendix 5).
Peer review teams of eminent out-of-state scientists were put together, the process got going, and projects deemed worthy by the Scientific Review Council were routinely approved by CPRIT's Oversight Committee, a group of political appointees plus the Attorney General and the State Comptroller. CPRIT money helped attract some eminent researchers to the state.
But then, it all fell apart.
Dr. Gilman, the Nobel laureate who had set up the scientific review process, submitted a letter of resignation in May 2012, effective the following October. In his resignation letter, he stated that he would like "to prevent further award of vast funds for research programs ostensibly within incubators that were not described and therefore could not have been reviewed."
The grant that he refers to and that had upset him so mightily was a large one-year combined award approved in March for an incubator at Rice University and for MD Anderson's Institute for Applied Cancer Science.
Why was he so upset about this particular award? More on that in the next installment.


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Ordinary Time: November 5th
Monday of the Thirty-First Week of Ordinary Time
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Old Calendar: Feast of the Holy Relics Preserved in the Churches of the Diocese; Sts. Zachary & Elizabeth (Hist); St. Bertilla (Hist)
According to the 1962 Missal of St. John XXIII the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, today is the feast of the Holy Relics Preserved in the Churches of the Diocese. It is also historically the feast of Sts. Zachary & Elizabeth, the parents of St. John the Baptist.Since we are so closely associated with the Church Suffering in the communion of saints, fraternal charity demands that we pray fervently for those who have preceded us with the sign of faith and who rest in the sleep of peace. This thought is repeatedly inculcated in every Mass for the dead.Don't forget to pray for the Poor Souls in Purgatory from November 1 to the 8th.
Feast of the Holy Relics
By relics of the Saints we mean all that remains of them after their death — their bones, their ashes, their clothing and other objects used by them. Enemies of the Church have condemned the cult of the relics of the Saints as being borrowed from pagan customs and without apostolic origin. The decision of the Council of Trent suffices to show the falsehood and bad faith of their reasoning. That Council, in effect, decreed quite otherwise, that the bodies of the martyrs and other Saints, who were the living members of Jesus Christ and the temples of the Holy Spirit, must be honored by the faithful, and that through them God grants a great many benefits to the living. Its decision was based on the usage already established in the first century and which has remained constant in the Church, as well as on the teaching of the Fathers and Councils.
St. Elizabeth
The name Elizabeth, which has been borne by several saints, means in Hebrew "worshiper of God." All that we know of Elizabeth, wife of Zachary and mother of John the Baptist, is to be found in the book of Luke. A descendant of the priestly line of Aaron, she was a kinswoman - how close we are not told – of the Virgin Mary.
St. Zachary
St. Zachary, whose feast is celebrated on the same day as that of St. Elizabeth, his wife, was of the tribe of Abia, and a member of the priestly class. It was customary for the priests whose week it was to serve in the temple to cast lots each day for the performance of the various rituals. One day, during Zachary's period of service, the privilege of offering incense on the altar in the holy place fell to him, and while he was alone before the altar performing this rite, the Angel Gabriel appeared to him, standing at the right of the altar. Zachary was troubled and afraid. Then Gabriel spoke, saying that the prayers of the priest and his wife would be answered; a son was to be born to them, and his name was to be John. Zachary found this hard to believe, for both he and Elizabeth were advanced in years. Overcoming his fear, he asked the angel for some sign. Because he doubted, the angel announced that Zachary would be stricken dumb and would regain the power of speech only when the prophecy was fulfilled. Then the angel disappeared and Zachary came forth from the temple. The people saw that he was unable to speak and they knew then that he had received a vision from the Lord.
St. Bertilla
St. Bertilla was born of one of the most illustrious families in the territory of Soissons (France), in the reign of Dagobert I. As she grew up she learned perfectly to despise the world, and earnestly desired to renounce it. Not daring to tell this to her parents, she first consulted St. Ouen, by whom she was encouraged in her resolution.
- Read more about St. Bertilla at CatholicSaints.Info.
The Meaning of Suffrage
The just encounter God in death. He calls them to himself so as to share eternal life with them. No one, however, can be received into God's friendship and intimacy without having been purified of the consequences of personal sin. "The Church gives the name Purgatory to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned. The Church formulated her doctrine of faith on Purgatory especially at the Councils of Florence and Trent".
Indulgences for All Souls Week
An indulgence, applicable only to the Souls in Purgatory, is granted to the faithful, who devoutly visit a cemetery and pray, even if only mentally, for the departed. The indulgence is plenary each day from the first to the eighth of November; on other days of the year it is partial.
A plenary indulgence, applicable only to the Souls in Purgatory, is granted to the faithful, who on the day dedicated to the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed [November 2 {as well as on the Sunday preceding or following, and on All Saints' Day}] piously visit a church. In visiting the church it is required that one Our Father and the Creed be recited.
To acquire a plenary indulgence it is necessary also to fulfill the following three conditions: sacramental Confession, Eucharistic communion, and prayer for the intention of the Holy Father. The three conditions may be fulfilled several days before or after the performance of the visit; it is, however, fitting that communion be received and the prayer for the intention of the Holy Father be said on the same day as the visit.
The condition of praying for the intention of the Holy Father is fully satisfied by reciting one Our Father and one Hail Mary. A plenary indulgence can be acquired only once in the course of the day.


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The deadly hurricane that is sweeping across the Eastern seaboard interrupted early voting in some states Monday, even as Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney urged voters in Ohio to cast their ballots early.
Speaking at a campaign event in Ohio, Romney noted the significance of early voting: "I know that early voting has begun. Get out there and vote, I see a voter right there. Get out and vote, we want ya early. We need you. It sends a very strong message ..."
He explained that "all the media follows how much early voting is going on, and they look at your zip code and where you live and make an estimate of whether you're a Republican or a Democrat, and they decide whether we're ahead or we're falling behind."
Mitt Romney campaigns in the critical battleground state of Ohio as a poll shows a dead heat between the governor and President Obama. Watch the entire speech.
But Hurricane Sandy's path of disruption and destruction may turn some would-be early voters into old-fashioned Election Day voters if it keeps them from driving or walking to their poll station over the next few days.
Early voting has been under way in Ohio since Oct. 2. Much of the state was under high wind warnings from the National Weather Service for Monday and Tuesday.
Matt McClellan, a spokesman for Ohio Secretary of State Jon Husted, said Monday that the county boards of elections prepare contingency plans for emergency situations that are reviewed by Husted's office.
"The Secretary of State's office is also receiving daily updates from the Ohio Emergency Management Agency on the weather. We are confident that at this point in time local boards are prepared," McClellan said.
In West Virginia – which, unlike its neighbor Ohio, hasn't been a hotly contested state in the presidential race – snow was falling Monday as forecasters predicted total snowfall of up to three feet in some parts of the state.
West Virginia has an early in-person voting option and early voting has been going on since last Wednesday. Secretary of State Natalie Tennant said in a statement Monday that early voting was continuing, but she cautioned, "If you don't have to go out, stay inside and make sure you are ready for this storm. Be mindful of high water, downed power lines, and icy conditions. Please, do not go out and risk your safety to try and make it to an early voting location. There are several more days of early voting and even Election Day, which is next Tuesday."
Tennant said her office is working with county clerks to develop contingency plans for early voting locations in the event that electricity is cut off.
In Maryland, with its coastline directly in the path of Hurricane Sandy, Gov. Martin O'Malley issued an executive order Sunday canceling early voting for Monday and Tuesday and extending the early voting period through Friday.
The October surprise came later than usual and the campaigns are left with big decisions – how will the weather we're seeing along the East Coast impact strategy in the battleground states going forward. NBC's Chuck Todd reports.
In Virginia, a state that Romney and President Barack Obama have fought fiercely to win, absentee voting is permitted (by mail or in person) in cases where a person will be absent from the state on business on Election Day or in cases of disability or illness.
Due to the hurricane, local election offices were closed Monday in several of the state's largest cities and counties including Loudon County, Arlington County, and Fairfax County.
In-person absentee voting in Virginia ends at the close of business on Saturday.
Other states in the track of Hurricane Sandy that do not allow for early in-person voting are: New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, New York, and Connecticut. They do permit absentee ballots to be cast by mail, although in some cases a reason is required.
In Pennsylvania, where Vice President Joe Biden will be campaigning Friday and where a pro-Romney Super PAC will be spending $2 million on TV ads in the final days of the campaign, there is no early in-person voting, but voters can mail in an absentee ballot.
Reuters, Getty Images
In the final push in the 2012 presidential election, candidates Mitt Romney and Barack Obama make their last appeals to voters.
The deadline in Pennsylvania for applying to a voter's county Board of Elections for an absentee ballot is Tuesday. Completed absentee ballots must be received by 5 p.m. on Friday, but since this is a presidential election year, the state will count absentee ballots received by the close of the polls on Election Day for the offices of president and vice president.
The hurricane's impact on voters was reaching as far away as Minnesota, where Secretary of State Mark Ritchie told people in his state who were being deployed to the East Coast to assist with the emergency response to Hurricane Sandy to vote absentee-in-person before they leave or to request an absentee ballot.
"We want to make sure every eligible Minnesota voter can vote. My office is contacting emergency-response organizations, utility companies and relevant government agencies to ensure that those who have already departed and others who are being mobilized can vote," Ritchie said in a statement.


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3D engine programmers have to care a little about execution speed, but what about the programmers at ATI and nVidia ? How much do they need to optimize their driver applications ?
Are there jobs out there who only purpose is execution speed and optimisation, or jobs for people to program only in assembly ?
Please, no flame war about "premature optimisation is the root of all evil", I just want to know if such jobs exists, maybe in security ? In kernel programming ? Where ? Not at all ?


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The Article Which Will Win You Your Fantasy Football League
League Format: 12-team Standard Scoring, +2 points for scores over 40 yards, +2 points for 100+ rush, 100+ receiving, 300+ pass yards, One point per FIVE receptions (not scored as 0.2 ppr)
Roster: QB, 2 RBs, 2 WRs, 1 Flex (RB/WR/TE), 1TE, 1 D/ST, 1 Kicker.
QB: Aaron Rodgers, Colin Kaepernick
RB: Trent Richardson, Alfred Morris, CJ Spiller, Knowshon Moreno, Jacquizz Rodgers, Evan Royster
WR: Hakeem Nicks, Pierre Garcon, Greg Jennings, Danario Alexander
TE: Kyle Rudolph, Rob Gronkowski
(D/ST and Kicker omitted for purposes of inconsequence)
Step One: Prioritize
Everyone's got an opinion. Everyone has a ranking. Everyone "likes" a player, has a sleeper, has a "must-start." Fine. All they have given you is one piece of the puzzle, one pro or one con, one tiny tidbit of information which you must assimilate into your system as a whole.
My theory is this: fantasy football games, playoffs, and leagues are won and lost by decisions. I set my obvious starts and then spend every ounce of energy, every waking moment, every second of free time (OK, not really, but sometimes) agonizing over the two or three tough decisions that every roster will almost certainly provide. These take ultimate priority. These will win your league.
You have now narrowed your focus. You now know what must be overcome. You have a target for your energy, for your malice, for your genius.
Priority Decisions: CJ Spiller vs. Knowshon Moreno. What two WRs to play?
Yeah, I drafted really well in the late rounds. Every running back listed except for Moreno was on my roster on draft day and for the entire season. But now, at playoff time, I need to get it right. I need to start the proper five players between my running back, wide receiver, and flex spots.
Now that I know what my key decisions are, I can move on to…
Step Two: Attention to Detail
Remember, everything counts. A ranking list is just a place to start and can be extremely misleading, but it can also provide a rough guide as to where to begin.
Attention to detail entails several things:
1) Gather as much information as possible
2) Pay attention to league scoring rules- they count, too!
3) Know your opponent
1) Information
Sticking with the same above decision between Knowshon Moreno and CJ Spiller, here is a way to use information to your benefit past just looking at the two players involved. Too many fantasy managers have a tendency to focus only on the player and not his team. When I first thought of playing Moreno over Spiller, I looked back to Willis McGahee's week 4 line against Oakland: 19 carries for 112 yards and a score, 6 catches for 23 yards, 21 points. I liked the carries and production, but I also liked the catches. While Moreno isn't McGahee, he is still the lead back in the same system against the same opponent. We all already have the book on Moreno: 20 carries and 4 catches in both of his past two games. We have the book on Oakland: second worst in all of fantasy against opposing rushers. What I want is the book on a Denver lead back against the Raiders in 2012. It could be (and was) the tipping point in my starting decision.
Moreno's week 14 line? 32 carries for 119 and a score, 4 catches for 48 yards, 23 points.
2) League Scoring
In this case, two league scoring rules affected my decision. First: the two point bonus for 100+ rushing yards. Second: the point per five receptions. CJ Spiller has crossed the 100-yard barrier only once with Fred Jackson in the lineup- in week 12 against Indianapolis. While Moreno had yet to reach the century mark before Thursday night's game, he was a very good bet to dominate the touches against one of the worst rush defenses in football. Spiller has recently given way to Fred Jackson on passing downs, which explains his very pedestrian five catches in the past three weeks.
3) Know Your Opponent
As a rule: always start what you believe to be your best roster. But in the case of a very close decision or two players who you believe may be in a virtual deadlock, having a glance at your opponent's choices may give you some insight as to how to proceed. Are you a big underdog? Do you need big performances? Or is your opponent himself making risky plays as he views your team as the stalwart favorite? I reiterate: always play your best lineup. But, it never hurts to have a look at your surroundings. In a tight pinch, it can help. Case in point: in week 10 of this same league, I had Aaron Rodgers, Trent Richardson, and Alfred Morris on bye and was a huge underdog. I took a shot on Danario Alexander against a terrible Buccaneers secondary, reasoning that it only would take one big play to make his week. (Keep in mind, at this point, Alexander had only caught three passes on the season.) On the first play of the game, Alexander took a short pass 80 yards to the house. It doesn't always work out quite so perfectly, but sometimes that slight tip of the scales can swing a week in your favor.
Step Three: Make a System
If you have a system that you believe in, that you have tested and shown to work, your decisions become easier and easier. My system is actually quite simple:
1) Faith. If I believe it's a remotely difficult decision, then it is. Forget what the rankers say, forget what the stats say. If my gut/intuition/whatever tells me it's a tough call, it's a tough call. Believe in yourself, always, at every step of the way.
2) List the pros and cons of each player.
3) Evaluate outside factors (highly subjective and pseudo-analysis is involved).
4) Weigh the potential for upside against the "safety" play
Let's use the system on my first decision at running back.
List the Pros and Cons
CJ Spiller Pros: He's the better player. Ranked higher by experts. CJ Spiller Cons: Only one touchdown in the past 6 games. Fred Jackson.
Knowshon Moreno Pros: Receives more carries. Catches More passes (4 catches in each of the two weeks, compared to 1, 1, and 3 for Spiller in the last three). Better matchup. Knowshon Moreno Cons: Not the better player. Zero touchdowns in two weeks of starting.
Evaluate Outside Factors
-Knowshon Moreno is on the better team overall, which usually translates to a more effective offensive attack (could entail greater time of possession, more effective drives/scoring chances).
-If Denver (heavy favorite) gets a sizable lead, they could turn to clock-killing, run-heavy drives.
-Peyton Manning is a far scarier passer than Ryan Fitzpatrick.
As you can see, the above claims (for they are certainly not facts, statistics, or any kind of concrete data), are complete projections, thoughts out loud, and, in some cases, wishful thinking. They rely on assumptions of how a game may go, and we are all familiar with what "assume" does to "u" and "me." Still, these factors add up. And, stacked upon the already-made pros and cons list then added onto the statistics I discovered while paying attention to detail, my first tough call of the playoff season suddenly looked quite clearer.
Upside vs. Safety
The question of upside versus safety is one that every fantasy owner must struggle with at almost every position throughout the year. Namely: at what point does a player's upside override the value of a safer selection? It's like a never-ending, inconsistent, and impossible to predict formula that is best solved by the manager himself through a series of convoluted "I likes" and, at times, blind faith in your gut.
Again, in this instance, Spiller's value seemed to diminish even further. Most "experts" will point to his explosiveness, his high YPC, and his talent or ability to "break one" at any time as the main arguments in favor of ranking Spiller so highly. What are the above three if not "upside?" And yet this "upside" has netted only one touchdown and one 100+ yard game in the past six weeks. And Spiller is the "conventional", "safe" play? What?
Even here, where the argument for CJ Spiller should have been at it's strongest, I think Moreno's upside triumphed and won the day. A Denver running back with 20+ carries against one of the worst run-defenses in the league as part of an offense that is capable of piling points on the board? Not to mention, he gets looks in the passing game?
Step Four: Pull The Trigger
And so, I played Moreno over Spiller this week. Despite nearly every ranker available placing the Bills back significantly above the Broncos rusher, I played him. Despite league-mates texting me to ask if I was serious, despite the propensity for Thursday night games to be goofy offensive debacles, despite the fact that while CJ Spiller was busy piling up the points to bring him to the 8th-highest scoring running back in our league's scoring, Moreno was busy being inactive from weeks 2-11, I played him.
This was priority decision number one, and by drawing it into focus, paying attention to the details, and following my system, I (probably) got it right.
Now all that remains is to run my receivers through the same rigorous protocol. But, thankfully, that did not need to be finished by Thursday afternoon. (In case you're curious, I'm currently playing Garcon and Jennings, but that may change.)
A final note: don't forget to be sneaky and smart. I played Moreno at my RB1 position because I knew for sure I was going to use him. Why waste him in the Flex? Now, I have Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning to assimilate two and a half more days worth of details into my roster choices. Namely, I now have a new difficult decision to make: which two (of three) running backs do I use at RB2 and Flex? Spiller, Alfred Morris, or Trent Richardson? Does one of the receivers make it into the discussion due to upside if more news comes down the wire? You see… the wheels are always spinning.
As an obvious disclaimer, my methods are not guaranteed. If there is one thing I hope you garnered from these few pages of advice and explanation it's this: trust yourself. Find something you like, believe in, or understand, and go with it. If you enjoyed my methodology and reasoning, feel free to apply it, but remember: the choice is yours.
I wish you all the best of luck. See you in the winner's circle.
-Pete The Greek
As always you can tweet me: @petethegreekff. I look forward to your tweets about gloating victoriously over your leaguemates.


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REAL ESTATE- ON THE BLOCK- Looking closely: A condo for classy seniors
ADDRESS: 1187 Partridge Lane
SIZE: 1,833 fin. sq. ft.
NEIGHBORHOOD: Branchlands
CURB APPEAL: 7 out of a possible 10
LISTED BY: Barbara Seidler of Colonnade Realty 951-7360
If you had to go find your glasses before you could read this column, you're the kind of person who will want to take a look (sans glasses) at this classy condominium in Branchlands Retirement Village. If you had to go get your glasses, but the words "Branchlands Retirement Village" make you squirm, stop reading now.
This little enclave down behind the Senior Center has an interesting history. The place was developed on the lands of a real house, Branchlands, built sometime between 1818 and 1865 (sources are murky) on the highest point of a property consisting of more than a thousand acres.
Today, after a twisting history including a foreclosure auction and an incarnation as a Catholic school and nunnery, the "manor house" is the focal point of the community of apartments, townhouses, and condominiums that make up Branchlands.
One of those condominiums, this property is on the market at the best possible time. Outside the front windows– in the living room a large bay window– a Bradford pear and a cherry tree are putting on a glorious display around a nicely landscaped, if tiny, patio.
Inside, rosy paint echoes the blooms, and a tall column dividing the entrance area from the living room mirrors columns framing the intimate front sitting porch. Ten-foot ceilings contribute to a much-needed illusion of space, and ample lighting helps overcome the twinge of claustrophobia resulting from the fact that this is a completely contained interior unit with no side or back windows.
A serviceable kitchen spans the rear of the large living room/dining area, and provides a pass-through to the master suite consisting of a big bedroom, full bath (alas, one of those dreadful fiberglass tub surround things mars the otherwise pleasant enough decor), and lots of storage, including under-the-stairs space.
Upstairs is a copy of down, and so an active oldster could save the first-level master suite for company and retire up here for privacy. The space over the living room has been left just as open (although it has carpeting instead of the parquet of the first floor), another wise decision to counter the closed-in feeling.
Just what this large second-floor "living room" might be used for is unclear. It's too big to be a study, and probably an older single person or couple would have little use for a "family room" in the typical sense of "gathering place for the gang."
The bedroom on this level is augmented by a large sunroom with a view to the trees and beyond over an attractive copper roof, a real plus for this unit. Condominiums on the opposite side of the street have views only of this place and several more just like it. Up here there's more storage. Every room has a center ceiling fan if the central air isn't enough.
Condo fees run $584 per quarter, but they include everything a typical resident would want to have taken care of by someone else: trash collection, mowing, snow removal, insurance, and fixing the gas furnace when it breaks. The "village" offers a walking trail, a lake, and picnic areas, and there's a reserved parking space in front of the house– but no garage.
The agent reports that places in Branchlands are selling like hotcakes, which seems to indicate that this is the sort of set-up upscale oldsters are looking for when the children are gone and it's time for the big house to go. While this unit, even with its 1,800 square feet of space, might be a little too cozy for a couple, it seems just right for a single active older person who wants convenience and quality without fuss.
And the upside of the snugness is that there are only so many places you have to look for those darn glasses.


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City of Fulton Challenges Residents to Recycle
FULTON - The City of Fulton wants residents to participate in a recycling challenge this April. The goal of the challenge is to collect 25 tons of recyclable material by month's end--a 17-ton increase from last April. City officials said the amount of recycling collected annually during the past four years has dropped by half.
Public information officer Darin Wernig said the 25-ton goal equates to the city's highest amount of recyclables collected at 25.53 tons, which occurred in April 2009. "We know that this is a realistic goal that people can meet, so we're hoping that residents will take notice to this and participate," said Wernig. Wernig said it is hard to tell why recycling has declined. "Maybe it's just that people haven't felt the need to recycle, or maybe it's just that we haven't promoted the city's recycling program enough."
City officials said if enough residents participate in the city's free recycling program, it can save the city's trash trucks one additional trip to the Allied landfill in Jefferson City each week and could delay a scheduled rate increase in January 2014. The city's trash trucks make three trips to the landfill daily, costing the city between $600 and $800 each day. "Three trips a day, five days a week, (it) definitely adds up," said Wernig.
All recyclable material the city collects is sent to Kingdom Projects, a non-profit, sheltered workshop that employs more than one hundred disabled adults. Kingdom Projects manager Lon Little is on board for the April challenge. "It's different now because we don't have a local landfill. It's even more important for people to be conscious of that because it will eventually affect people's pocketbook. Down the road, it's going to be expensive for people to have their waste hauled and picked up. The challenge is a good way to get people that aren't recycling or only recycle sometimes to do it all the time."
To participate in the program, residents can throw all recyclable items into clear plastic bags and set them at the curb on their regularly scheduled trash collection day. Recycling carts in various sizes are also available to residents for $1 per month. If interested in purchasing a cart, residents should contact the Solid Waste Department at 573-592-3176.


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Role-playing games are commonly thought of—and disparaged as—forms of "escape," ways of separating the self from reality. Steal Away Jordan (2007) by Julia Ellingboe is an RPG that challenges stereotypes of the genre while explicitly making escape a game-world objective: The player characters are slaves in the antebellum United States, and their goal is to be free. As in other RPGs, the characters are defined by a collection of traits coded in numerical values; the primary statistic in Steal Away Jordan is the character's value on the slave market, measured in number of dice. "A young, attractive female in a Southern city or town, add two dice," the rulebook says. "If you were from the Rice Coast in West Africa and were purchased by a rice planter in the Carolinas, your knowledge of rice cultivation would be particularly valuable." Players are discouraged, however, from inventing highly valuable super-slaves, and the rulebook suggests a lengthy list of handicaps and demerits. "If you have a history of escape, you have been branded or whipped at some point," it says. "These wounds carry the risk of infection, and mark you as a problem slave." With its excerpts from slave narratives and reproductions of archival photographs and etchings, the rulebook reinforces the game's historical origins. But Steal Away Jordan is not about reenactment, a feature underscored by the character of the Conjurer, an oracular figure who can be paid to cast voodoo spells (the strength and effectiveness of her magic can be adjusted to suit the players' tastes for realism). Steal Away Jordan draws inspiration from works of fiction, such as Toni Morrison's Beloved and Octavia Butler's Kindred, and transforms the spirit of those classics in the genre of rule-guided collective storytelling. It makes fantasy and play into means for remembering and reflecting on real desires of escape.
Text by Brian Droitcour
Steal Away Jordan (2007) by Julia Ellingboe is on display at 319 Scholes as part of Big Reality curated by Brian Droitcour until March 29th.


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Ive moved to a new blog
Iam also doing early spring cleaning and adding lots and lots of stuff to my sons ebay account. Its under thievespunk. check it out there are lots of goodies!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
hey followers!
Posted by Annie Oakleaves at 3:46 PM
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