text:
Nothing to it: The secrets of zero percent credit card offers
Most Popular
Most Commented
By Michael De Groote, Deseret News National Edition
Published: Friday, May 16 2014 4:25 a.m. MDT
In the wake of the recession, credit card companies are fighting for the best customers by offering 0 percent introductory interest cards — some that are at 0 percent interest for as long as 18 months. But what's the catch?
This story is part of the Deseret News National Edition, which focuses on the issues that resonate with American families.
I prefer to "churn" my credit cards. If you don't know what this is
google it. I have already gone on two vacations for free. I am taking my wife
and two kids to Mexico this summer. Flights and hotels will be totally free,
paid for with More..
The consumer charges are the way they make money? Who is pocketing the $ from
those who accept the cards (the merchant fees, the conversion fees for foreign
purchases, etc)?
I have stopped listening to the music on the radio years ago. Love songs are not
played. It's doesn't appeal to me to hear what is in the songs today.
I don't like the idea of having my money compromised by thief's. If
I'm a More..
DeseretNews.com encourages a civil dialogue among its readers. We welcome your thoughtful comments.
— About comments
I am a staff writer for the Deseret News. My current beat is financial responsibility. I also occasionally write on other topics such as faith. I graduated from Arizona State University and from J. Reuben Clark Law School more ..


text:
From Our Editors
When it comes to muscle aches, the worst knots like to hide deep inside tissue, out of reach of the average massage therapist. Fortunately for his clients at Flourish Chiropractic, Isak Swearingen isn't the average massage therapist. The former athlete and deep-tissue massage specialist eases these painful kinks with Active Release Technique (ART). Aided by a special massage tool, these treatments stretch affected muscles through their full range of motion, leaving clients looser and less afflicted by pain. Swearingen's massage sessions relieve symptoms of numerous afflictions, including repetitive stress injuries, sports injuries, and stress-induced pain.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Periodic Dosage of Xah (三教九流十八班 —— 李杀)
Once upon a time there was Diary, and similar were logs, journals, travelog and such forth. In our info age, it is called blogs by inept computing geeks. To keep in sync with humanity of fashionable business and nomenclature novelty, mine is called Periodic Dosage. This periodic, is bent on to inform the informed, and educate the educated, of all things and social things and ethological things.
"If one is to understand the Great Mystery, 1 must study all its aspects, not just the dogmatic narrow view of the Jedi." Palpatine: The Portrait of a Perfect Sociopath and Master Politician
democracy, such that, you would have father & son presidents, and now husband & wife. what a wonder.
Social Justice Warriors and Code of Conduct
law are created to do good. But when it becomes complex and big, as modern society is, it became alien, usually just punishing the weak, controlled by the powerful.
Code Of Conduct is similar.
Without Code Of Conduct, we all have a chance. When conflict arise, you duke it out, as highschool kids brawl. We are talking about contribution of code here. And we should encourage small people to start their own, instead of somehow have a need to be part of big project. Encourage more personal freedom instead of contralize power.
With Code Of Conduct, there's this powerful ideology and org behind it. When conflict arise, and if you happen to be the unfavored, you are likely more hurt by Code Of Conduct.
There are quite a lot we can do to improve the world. There's Scientology, Religious million dollar scams, and uncessary war (many of these are hard to fight). Today, our tech can feed the world…
I know that many of the Code Of Conduct people intent to do good, but seems to me it's more of aggression.
here's 2 threads on reddit. 2 particularly very nasty people. Sam Halliday and Sebastian Wiesner. These 2 are extreme "social justice warriors". They, if power be, i think are the type of people who will kill, believing they are doing good.
American SJW and Rise of Nazi
Melania Trump, first lady with highest high heels.
law, in big organized society, becomes a blind power that punishes the weak, controlled by powerful. The Code Of Conduct, works in a similar way.
today's American leftist, is of degree, that they will hurt, punish, those who disagree with them. Yes. It has become that.
the keyword is righteousness. they believe they are doing the right thing. I frankly don't see how it's different from the rise of Nazi.
on the other hand, we have Hillary, a lying-thru-teeth pro politician.
Twitter shadowban people
it seems, twitter has #shadowban now, since 2015. if u don't know, shadowban is secret filtering of info
Twitter shadowban and lie about it. 〔Tweets are disappearing on Twitter. Why? By Abby Ohlheiser. @ https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-intersect/wp/2015/10/30/a-guide-to-why-some-activists-believe-their-tweets-are-being-censored-in-the-u-s/〕
truth vs nice
i believe in truth. I do not believe in upholding a community, being positive. Because these things, when untruth, does harm in the long run.
peace = never
there's a possibility, that common moral values of human animals is logically imcompatible with common ideals of peace and harmony
that is, peace = never. Unless, you change your moral views to something you never will accept
today's Nice Truck Attack and Turkey military coup week. few days ago is that facebook live streaming of a cop shot black aftermath.
Google AI and you are worthless
with Google releasing AI lib this or deep learning framework that, and you haven't learned them yet, you feel worth less each day.
don't worry. you are already worthless.
this is 1 minute read
today, some blogs are sporting "n-minutes read". like, u so busy that u need to know many min it takes, and so idiotic u can't judge uself.
〔The Book That Changed My Life By Aaron Swartz. @ http://www.aaronsw.com/weblog/epiphany〕
Understanding Power by Noam Chomsky amazon
i've lived my life sans pleasure. Formal, aloof, ascetic, and in perpetual pain & emergency state. Working frantically towards failure.
everytime i hear a success story, big or small, i become EXTREMELY hurt, to the degree of physiological symptoms. This been the case since teen.
"we need fetchingly these internet sounds"
had a dream… and there's a phrase i emphatically wanted to recall, as it holds the key to remember whole dream.
remembered the phrase i did, but now i know not what it means.
while i, am here worry about hunger, somebody elsewhere is worried about the trepidation of fornication.
it's a common problem where key or ring or something fall into the drain. so, drain should be designed to prevent this in a fool proof way.
for past weeks, been watching on tweeter a very rich man travelogging his venture of sharing his wife. ① nice to be rich. ② am miserable.
in our society, there's a sector of people, who encourage positiveness, never criticize. I think these people are actually doing HARM.
criticize, even bitching, is necessary for healthy society. Ali, M L King, malcolm x, bobby fischer, rms, are exemplar negative forces.
some of these are now national heroes, after they are dead. When they are not dead, some are taken as criminals.
what happens to a society that avoids criticism/negativeness? you get a bowl of all positive, smiling, nice people. You get Disney Land.
to be rich, first need the willing part in willing and able. and that mean's more than mubling "yes i want"
i've logically determined 48 is still good for coding. I'm still good, still good.
Sanders is 74. Hillary = 68, trump = 69. at these ages, sometimes you pee on your pants.
it's interesting that leaders of human animals tend to be old. Age acquires power, cuz power came from dealing with other humans.
human animals need to eat everyday, and, the well-to-do demo their pretty plates everyday, like millions of them, and this is perpetual.
1 of the change that, since ~2010, everyone gives a talk, in hundreds of events/confs, and we can watch live. before, only top games can.
recall, the context here is, what all these change-the-world tech & AI actually have done to society?
living and life is just a phase, a process. A cycle of the universe. persuit of truth, justice, goal, goodness, are ephemeral deceptions.
we live a short life. (short, relatively)
normal walking speed is 1.4 meter per second, or 5 km per hour.
culture is like personality, it is invisible, yet governs your behavior at large
gymnast's retire age is ~20. boxer is 30, same for swimmer.
Adult attention deficit hyperactivity disorder
- Avoiding tasks or jobs that require concentration
- Procrastination
- Difficulty initiating tasks
- Difficulty organizing details required for a task
- Difficulty recalling details required for a task
- Difficulty multitasking
- Poor time management, losing track of time
- Indecision and doubt
- Hesitation of execution
- Difficulty persevering or completing and following through on tasks
- Delayed stop and transition of concentration from one task to another
Megyn Kelly, smart, beautiful, strong, woman
smart women, how i love them.
flesh-eating disease
there's a thing called flesh-eating disease. eats up your flesh in matter of hours.
if you want to see HORRIFYING pics of flesh eating disease, see scifi author Peter Watts's blog. http://www.rifters.com/crawl/?cat=41 this post, to be exact http://www.rifters.com/crawl/?p=1848
flesh-eating disease, is call Necrotizing fasciitis
it is a rotting in the layer between skin and muscle. This layer is called the fascial plane.
it's fast. Once infected, say in a leg, it spreads to the whole leg with in a few hours. Typically, your leg will need to be cut off. Amputated, is the word.
here's Wikipedia Necrotizing fasciitis
Necrotising fasciitis (NF), commonly known as flesh-eating disease, is a rare infection (0.04 cases per 1000 person-years in the US)[2] of the deeper layers of skin and subcutaneous tissues, easily spreading across the fascial plane within the subcutaneous tissue.
philosopher refuse to enter USA because of requiring finger print and photo
In a well-known case,[32] Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben refused to enter the United States in protest at the United States Visitor and Immigrant Status Indicator (US-VISIT) program's requirement for visitors to be fingerprinted and photographed. Agamben argued that gathering of biometric data is a form of bio-political tattooing, akin to the tattooing of Jews during the Holocaust. According to Agamben, biometrics turn the human persona into a bare body.
[from Wikipedia Biometrics which cites from 〔Agamben, G. (2008). 〈No to bio-political tattooing〉. Communication and Critical/Cultural Studies, 5(2), 201–202. Reproduced from Le Monde (10 January 2004).〕]
Ice Cream Cones | How It's Made
dot dogs, how it's made
how eggs are made
the goal of humanity?
sometimes, watching a old 1970's movie. You see? they want what we want. And, they show what we show, things we like to see, and beautiful people. The same thing, different times.
sometimes, if you imagine, the thousands years of human humanity. Going back, starting with your grand pa, grand grand pa, grand grand grand pa.
4 generations, and that's only about 100 years. But there's several thousands years of written history.
what does it all mean?
don't know, but most of us, are concerned about having children. That is our biological programming, the only, and ultimate, goal.
so, Prince actually had a sister, Tyka Nelson, who lives in poverty, has 6 kids, and at one time had to prostitute to make a living, and was also addicted to drugs.
the secret diary of xah, stardate 20160414
few days ago, one of my teeth fell out. (it's ) It is the upper right molar. A fake one i had some decade plus ago.
that is a major blow. I haven't seen a dentist for a decade. i thought, i'll hold out till i am on track with coding again. Well, now, i imagine myself to be those national geographic photo of very old man with missing teeth.
my eye classes, is a decade old. I have near-sightedness, vision 550. Since last year, because working in restaurant, now it's full of scratches (bad mistake washing with water), to the point that, everyday, when i wake and put on the glasses, my eye would tear in about 10 min.
this has been going on for about half a year now. But yesterday, i finally went to Walmart and get myself new glasses. Eye exam, frame, glass, the whole costs $280, which is almost my 1 month's income. I shall have new glasses in about a week. Yay!
so, i went to walmart. you know? my shoes are over a decade old, but i had another pair, but it's broken in the back, such that the plastic rubs and bleeds your skin. So, since i'm at walmart, i bought this shoe. Only $12. It's, fantastic! And, i saw flashlights. I have a obsession with lighting devices. You know? today's tech, the best lighting tech is the LED. Efficiency is the aspect i'm most obsessed about. Anyway, so i saw flashlights, Walmart have these $1 each ones, and so bright, with battery included. I bought two!
but about the teeth. What you gonna do? I gather it'll cost a lot, like, a thousand or more to fix it. It's pretty bad, because now i can only eat with the weak left side, and don't know how long that'll last. I imagine i'd be eating liquid food for sustenance. Well, the plan is quickly to grab a high-paying coding job. Facebook and Google and amazon are like, beckoning me everyday, and they pay $100k+ year.
well, it's pretty sad to write these things, and it's not things i want to write out because it makes me look bad. Potential employer sees this, and will back out. Beautiful girls who are my readers , now saw this, disillusion! But, on the other hand, i have a urge to keep a log straight. I don't want to hide stuff, and i don't event want to play the marketing game. Not necessarily even the conventional behavior stuff, because, Xah tells you right now, xah's behavior is ahead of the world, by, maybe 5 or 10 years. It has been vindicated by the internet for the past 15 years or so. Gay movement and regarding porn et al in society.
asides from the money part, y'know, i'm physically more beautiful, more smart, more knowledgeable, more moral, and, more capable than most people? yeah, truth. I don't have anything else to brag about, but this, at this point of my life, flaunting the things you have, what simple pleasure and comfort of life.
well, the above are some bad news. But about last month, i realized that my life is about done (because reaching 50), so i kinda drafted about what i want to do with the rest of my life. Xah Lee Goal 2020. It's kinda a ramble, and am not sure it's realistic or even a plan or fantasy, but oh well that's how it stands now. I might modify it later.
also, lastly, you know i enjoy writing? so, i'll say something about reaching 50.
today's age, with our modern tech and all, we live up to 70 or so. But, not so just 200 years ago. For most period of humanity, living up to 50 is like you are lucky.
recently, i've looked up many stars of 80s and 90s. Majority of them looks terrible today. Extremely ugly. Like, they fucked up their life. Money made it worse. A minority, are doing very well, aged well, and live a respectable life. You don't hear about these stars anymore, but they light up the sky a generation or two before. You know? it's like, when i was younger, sometimes i hear names of stars that i don't know, such as Simon & Garfunkel 〔➤see 舊夢何處尋 Teresa Teng, Simon & Garfunkel ♪El Condor Pasa (1970)〕, and it's like, who the hell are they? you really have no idea, and you don't really care. Newer generation couldn't understand older generation's stuff. In the same way, i can understand, how people born after 2000 may have no idea or care about Madonna, Prince, etc.
so, you know, people get old. And, it's not news, just news to me.
and, realistically, when you reached 50, and you are not successful yet as you want to be, you are basically done for. Like, if i am writing a biography, i could just wrap up now and say, Xah Lee didn't do anything in his life. He, didn't even have children, nor wife. Done for.
so, what am i going to do?? I don't know, i can't know. Like most people, or human's behavior, i'll just live on, and whatever i guess. I'll, of course, try to be better.
the river flows, flooding past the mountains and heros, of thousands of years.
precipitous downhill.
what do you do when you get old? like, reaching 50?
you quietly recede into oblivion, and die.
You become mellow, and let things go.
you know sometimes you see a bug that don't move much? you can't tell its age, but you know its old, and about to die. just like that.
except, a few rich and powerful, such as politicians, eg see those clamor for US president? But yeah, for most people, you just fade.
look up all those beautiful stars when you were young. You don't hear them now. They have faded, before you.
It is, a stage of life. You don't know until you are there.
The fear of death, is however, still there.
大江东去,浪淘尽,千古风流人物。 故垒西边,人道是,三国周郎赤壁。 乱石穿空,惊涛拍岸,卷起千堆雪。 江山如画,一时多少豪杰。 遥想公瑾当年,小乔初嫁了,雄姿英发。 羽扇纶巾,谈笑间,樯橹灰飞烟灭。 故国神游,多情应笑我,早生华发。 人生如梦,一尊还酹江月。
Palpatine: The Portrait of a Perfect Sociopath and Master Politician (video updated)
Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk
today's thing to think about is: how many things you don't know that at least a million people know?
Cicada 3301
Spooky Death of Elisa Lam
am quite spooked by this.
to understand it, first read Wikipedia Death of Elisa Lam
very interesting. Elisa Lam body language analyzed by someone at http://www.bodylanguagesuccess.com/2013/02/nonverbal-communication-analysis-2313.html
〔Elisa Lam Drowned in a Water Tank Three Years Ago, but the Obsession with Her Death Lives On By Jennifer Swann. @ http://www.vice.com/read/elisa-lam-drowned-in-a-water-tank-two-years-ago-but-the-obsession-with-her-death-lives-on-511〕
Dream: Two-Fingers Security Cam Incident
had the most weird dream.
there's this two-finger video log incident.
basically, a security camera showed that there's a footage of 2 fingers, for a few seconds, as if, someone totally inserted few seconds of clip from nowhere.
this is very strange, because, why would a burglar or otherwise computer criminal insert something of his own fingers into the security cam? Of course, because of this two-fingers video, he got caught.
i was thinking, o men, when did this incidence happen? i must have missed it on the internet. And in semi-awake status, i imagine i googled and find various news reports about it, with titles like "two-finger video mystery solved" or "two-fingers video hacker caught". And the articles is like explaining, or the hacker in interview explaining, how he was stupid, and it was a incident that happened many years ago when he was a newbie at hacking.
and, i was aware of my semi-dream status, and thought, i'll need to find this out for real. And tried to really remember all the details at the moment.
by the time i'm up from bed, fully awake, then, thinking about the story, i know clearly it's a dream, preposterous. But, couldn't remember much of the details of the story.
〔Welcome to the Block Party: The internet after ad blocking By Casey Johnston. @ http://www.theawl.com/2015/09/welcome-to-the-block-party〕
the info in the world is not tamable. one person can ever hope to just randomly learn something insignificant as one goes.
Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind
Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind is a book by Yuval Harari first published in Hebrew in Israel in 2011,[1] and in English in 2014.[2][3] Harari cites Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel as one of the greatest inspirations for the book by showing that it was possible to "ask very big questions and answer them scientifically".[4]
The book surveys the history of humankind from the evolution of archaic human species in the Stone Age up to the twenty-first century. Its main argument is that Homo sapiens dominates the world because it is the only animal that can cooperate flexibly in large numbers. Besides, the author claims that prehistoric sapiens may have committed a massive genocide, leading other homo species such as the Neanderthals into extinction. The book further argues that Homo sapiens can cooperate flexibly in large numbers, because it has a unique ability to believe in things existing purely in its own imagination, such as gods, nations, money and human rights. The author claims that all large scale human cooperation systems – including religions, political structures, trade networks and legal institutions – are ultimately based on fiction.[5]
Other salient arguments of the book are that money is a system of mutual trust; that capitalism is a religion rather than only an economic theory;that agricultural revolution started as a promise of luxury but ended as a trap that made people's life worse; that empire has been the most successful political system of the last 2,000 years; that money, empires and religions are the powers that are unifying the world; that the treatment of domesticated animals is among the worst crimes in history; that people today are not significantly happier than in past eras;[6] and that humans are currently in the process of upgrading themselves into gods.
Sapiens A Brief History Humankind amazon
twitter, the ad problem and you
twitter is getting more and more aggressive with ads. Most annoying now is the auto-play video ads.
ok. today's xah edu corner: ads or no ads.
to ad or no ad, is a eternal struggle. many claim to rather pay than ads, but that's ideology talking. by statistics, human animals don't pay, unless forced.
but forced pay may not work cuz human animals want free. even if at $1 a year, you wipe out large percent of your audience
the issue is rather psychology and whole system, than individual's judgement of cost/benefits.
many micro payment companies since 1990s failed cuz nobody want to signup. micro pay protocols failed too cuz tragedy of the commons.
publishers, and services such as twitter, have this rather curious problem. You get massive users, spent lots money, but how you gonna get paid?
publishers & services end up force pushing and pushing and pushing ads, and sell user data.
users, for the most part, just keep using it, and kept bitching about it, or use ad blocker.
ad blocker software writter themselves, are faced with the same issue. When popular, they sell out.
the pretention of human animals, resulted this cop & robber game.
with spammers, and SEO fucks that rephrase news, as large sector of the game.
lock few phD's in a room and get theory of the century?
you can't lock a few phD's in a room and expect great theory. You ends up with lunatics and suicide. Cuz human animals are not machines.
similarly, you can't force fat people to not eat, or put addicts in bondage. Result may be collapse + zombie.
for human animals, sometimes, pep talk, care, will do wonders.
from machine point of view, that means, certain vibration in medium of air, has magical effect on human animal.
lulsec, bitcoin, silk road, a wondrous novel.
Got another DMCA takedown notice. This time, it's a legit call. Nakedness — a WASP Crime
Debian Linux Founder, Ian Murdock (1973 to 2015) Killed Himself
A Clockwork Orange, page 3 (oldie)
A social media star, 18 years old girl, career suicide, because "it's all a lie"
she's got half a million followers, on various social websites. And, 1 post she can earn some $1400.
the following video, shows some of her paid posts.
There's a blog, titled 〈Why It's OK to Block Ads〉. See:
〔Why It's OK to Block Ads By James Williams. @ http://blog.practicalethics.ox.ac.uk/2015/10/why-its-ok-to-block-ads/〕
What a idiotic article.
I spent 30 min to write a comment, and decided it's not worth posting to. Why? then it's the same old to-ban-or-not-to-ban thing, and i even spent time to check their comment policy. And, in the end, i don't get candy except helping the idiotic essay's popularity.
Here's my comment, scathing as intended.
I concur on the correctness of your opinion, that the advertising industry spend millions to exploit psychology. Almost every big commercially run website, is designed to max ads, down to color and font choice.
But, the way they are, is because our behavior made it so. Facebook et al don't have a paid version because nobody would pay. As simple as that.
One big chuck of opinion on this issue is that "Info Should be Free.", "Best things are free, look at air.". But, your opinion isn't this.
I couldn't tell in a minute what site is this. Your essay, nary a citation or scientific research, and seems just a opinion piece, yet this site seems to be associated with University of Oxford? So, am i right that my attention just got robbed by a university? And what does university want? Not my money, but my intelluctual attention?
In one minute i couldn't find out who you are. Are you a professor in the area of ethics/philosophy? or student? So, one of the design flaw of this seemingly academic website/university/blog, is failing to clearly identify authors.
Now, back to ads. So, you are saying, it's ok to block ads because the industry exploit people's psychology. In fact, it's a moral obligation to block ads!!! Then, by the same token, it's ok to not pay tax because a tax system is broken? By not paying taxes, i let my government know that something's wrong?
In modern society, lots things are broken. Are we supposed to just get angry and become HULK?
I was thinking, i couldn't find a merit in this essay, and that i just wasted half-an-hour reading and commenting about it. But wait! It got us thinking, communicating, thanks to, ads!
DMCA takedown notice of Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction 2004 photo
Cults & Religion (new index)
The Wolf of Wall Street
Jonathan G. Lebed (born September 29, 1984) is an American stock trader prosecuted by the SEC at age 15 for stock manipulation.
Lebed was the first minor prosecuted by the SEC.[7][8] Between September 1999 and February 2000, Lebed made hundreds of thousands of dollars from the computer in his bedroom in Cedar Grove, New Jersey by posting in Internet chat rooms and on message boards encouraging people to buy penny stocks he already owned, thus, according to the SEC, artificially raising the price of the stock. Between September 1999 and February 2000, his smallest one-day gain was $12,000 while his biggest was $74,000.[9] The SEC, under Arthur Levitt, prosecuted him. In 2001, Lebed and the SEC negotiated an out-of-court settlement in which Lebed forfeited $285,000 in profit and interest he had made on 11 trades without admitting any wrongdoing — allowing him to keep close to half a million dollars.[10]
Jordan Ross Belfort[5] (/ˈbɛlfɔːrt/; born July 9, 1962) is an American author, motivational speaker, and former stockbroker who pleaded guilty to fraud and related crimes in connection with stock market manipulation and running a boiler room as part of a penny stock scam. Belfort spent 22 months in prison as part of an agreement under which he gave testimony against numerous partners and subordinates in his fraud scheme.[6] He published a memoir, The Wolf of Wall Street, which was adapted into a film, released in 2013. It was directed by Martin Scorsese and starred Leonardo DiCaprio as Belfort.
Gamer SWATTED Phenomenon (on its own page)


text:
Trolltech Releases Qtopia Phone Edition 4.2.x
Software manufacturer Trolltech has ported Qtopia Phone Edition to the Neo 1973 mobile phone, and released the source code at the same time.
Software manufacturer Trolltech has ported Qtopia Phone Edition, an application platform and user interface for Linux-based mobile phones to the Neo1973, a mobile phone by Taiwanese manufacturer FIC that uses the Open Moko platform.
At the same time, the software has been released under the GPLv2 as Qtopia Open Source Edition. Distributors of commercial or proprietary software are required to pay for distributing Qtopia Phone Edition (dual licensing model). According to the manufacturer, some components have only been available under the commercial developer license thus far: telephony components or a secure execution environment for applications, for example. The packed tarball gives developers libraries and applications. The manufacturer's homepage has an overview of the components.
The current version of Qtopia Phone Edition is 4.2.4. It is available for downloading from the manufacturer's website, along with a 30-page product description (PDF, 1.2 MB).
Issue 26: Linux Shell Handbook 7th Ed./Special Editions
Buy this issue as a PDF
SUSE Joins the Microsoft Test Drive Program
Customers can take a free test drive of SLES for HPC on the Azure Cloud
SiFive Launches a Line of Open Source Chips
San Francisco-based chip company announces their first fully open source chip platform.
Fedora 24 Released
The whole distro gets rebuilt on glibc 2.3
Canonical Announces Cross-Distro Support for Snaps
Ubuntu Vendor tries to solve app packaging and distribution problem across distributions.
ownCloud Forked
Founder of ownCloud launches the Nextcloud project.
HP Enterprise Unveils a Futuristic Computer
Will The Machine change the way future programmers think about memory?
CoreOS Announces Distributed Storage System
The new Torus distributed storage system is available under an open source license on GitHub
Google Beats Oracle in the Android Lawsuit
Juries decides Google's use of Java APIs Was Fair Use
Linux is the Largest Software Development Project in History
But if you are not using the latest Linux kernel, your system is insecure.
Linksys Says Yes to Open Source Firmware
Home routers will give room for custom firmware but still comply with FCC rules


text:
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- 8:27AMRudd qualified for UN gig: Bishop
- 7:46AMSearch for missing Vic mum continues
- 7:33AMMan found with gun after Gold Coast crash
- 7:29AM'This is war': Lib on French church attack
- 6:59AMTasmania to learn Senate dozen
- 11:26PMElena wins MasterChef, packs in teaching
- 9:16PMWA murder accused wanted son-in-law beaten
- 9:06PMPolice ID suspects in NSW homeless death


text:
Oil-Tanker Glut Shrinks to February Low, According to Survey
A surplus of the largest oil tankers competing to load crude at Persian Gulf ports shrank to this month's lowest level, a survey showed.
There are 9 percent more very large crude carriers available for hire over the next 30 days than there are likely cargoes, according to a Bloomberg survey of six shipbrokers and owners today. That was the smallest excess since Jan. 31.
The VLCC surplus reached a 14-month low of 5 percent on Jan. 17, helped by stronger crude demand before China's New Year. The ships are earning $16,275 daily on the benchmark Saudi Arabia-to-Japan voyage, up 33 percent since the start of the year, according to the London-based Baltic Exchange.
"March cargoes are behind schedule, so activity is expected to pick up this week," Oslo-based investment bank RS Platou Markets AS said in an e-mailed report today.
The exchange's assessments don't reflect speed cuts aimed at reducing fuel costs, vessel owners' main expense. Owners can curb those expenses, boosting returns, by slowing ships on return journeys after unloading cargoes.
The price of ship fuel, or bunkers, increased for a fourth session to $721.77 a metric ton, data compiled by Bloomberg from 25 ports worldwide showed. That was the highest level since at least October 2008, according to the figures.
Charter rates for VLCCs, each able to haul 2 million barrels of crude, on the benchmark route slid 0.4 percent today to 54.41 industry-standard Worldscale points.
The points are a percentage of a nominal rate, or flat rate, for more than 320,000 specific routes. Flat rates for every voyage, quoted in U.S. dollars a ton, are revised annually by the Worldscale Association in London to reflect changing fuel costs, port tariffs and exchange rates.
The Baltic Dirty Tanker Index, a broader measure of oil-shipping costs that includes vessels smaller than VLCCs, declined 0.4 percent to 814.


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Flirting with Danger: Confessions of a Reluctant War Reporterby Siobhan Darrow
View All Available Formats & Editions
Former star correspondent for CNN, Siobhan Darrow covered the world's hottest war zones over the last two decades, reporting from the front lines in Moscow, Chechnya, the Balkans, Albania, Israel, and Northern Ireland. Her fearless pursuit of stories placed her in countless life-threatening situations, prompting Darrow to wonder what about her character so attracted her to adrenaline, and so alienated her from the family life a part of her longed for. Darrow approaches this question with the same honesty–and seat-of-the-pants courage–that established her reputation as a premiere reporter, and the answers she arrives at form this riveting memoir of a woman assigned to cover history in the making, even as she chases down the most elusive "get" of all: her own happiness.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
Editorial Reviews
"Siobhan Darrow tells her story…with an eye for the telling details, with a relish for the absurd and, time and again, with disarming honesty."–The Financial Times
"With quiet courage and poignant candor, Siobhan Darrow rips off her TV mask and shows us her soul: confused, curious, at war with itself, brimming with love, and desperately human." –Deborah Copaken Kogan, author of Shutterbabe
"Rather than adding to the heroic accounts of flak-jacketed foreign correspondents in danger zones, Flirting with Danger is an altogether more candid account of what really preoccupies the war reporter on assignment. Siobhan Darrow tells her story . . . with an eye for the telling details, with a relish for the absurd and, time and again, with disarming honesty." –The Financial Times
"The more you read of Flirting with Danger, the more you put the book down and exclaim: Is this woman Bridget Jones in a flak-jacket and fatigues?" –The Scotsman
"The bravest part of Flirting with Danger is not in fact the chilling accounts of front lines and shell-dodging for interviews. It's Darrow's willingness to admit that much of the time she had love on the brain." –Los Angeles Times
Product Details
- 9780307773920
- Publisher:
- Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
- Publication date:
- 02/16/2011
- Sold by:
- Random House
- Format:
- NOOK Book
- Pages:
- 208
- File size:
Read an Excerpt
Animal Sanctuary
Joy usually entered our house on four legs, sometimes on two webbed feet or a pair of wings. When I was growing up, no matter how little money we had, there always seemed to be enough to feed another tiny amphibian, canine, or feline mouth. My mother loved animals, and I think having them around helped keep her sane. There was Lion Face, the big orange tomcat who fathered innumerable kittens. There were the African frogs, who accidentally froze on the windowsill one sudden winter's day, their limbs captured midstroke, trapped in an icy grave. And there were the gerbils I won at school by guessing how many beans were in a jar. My cat ate them and left their carcasses on my pillow--her pillow. Perhaps it was an innocent offering, or maybe a warning not to betray her with other animals. I accepted the violence in my animal world. It had rumbled around my human world ever since I can remember.
I was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I lived with my grandparents, my older sister, Alexandra, and my mother during one of our many separations from my American father. My grandfather always sat in his wheelchair by the fireplace; one of his legs had been shot off in the First World War. In our bedroom, an old grenade lay on the mantel piece, a daily reminder of the danger lurking outside. The "Troubles," as people in Northern Ireland called their bloodshed, were still brewing but had not fully erupted yet. It was 1963. When we crossed the ocean to America, turmoil came with us and took root in our home in New Jersey. I found sanctuary with the animals.
When we got a dark Siamese cat, my mother said I could name her. I was paralyzed with indecision. "How about Lap Sang or Soo Chong?" my mother offered, referring to the names of Oriental teas. I was too excited to choose, so we combined them into Lap Sue. I hoped that since I had named her, she would be mine. As it turned out, nobody else could stand her. She could be vicious, clawing and scratching anyone who went near her, but I loved her. I tried to stay on her good side, giving her my pillow each night, and when her long feline limbs sprawled across it as if it were her throne, I craned and twisted my neck to the side so as not to disturb her. Once Lap Sue savaged the leg of a visiting child so badly the girl needed stitches, and I was terrified her mother would demand the cat be put to death and I would lose her. My mother defended Lap Sue valiantly. I wished that she would defend me the same way. When my mother had something to express to me, she directed it at Lap Sue. In our house, humans were discouraged from showing emotions. Instead, we learned to show our feelings with the animals.
I relied on Lap Sue. She purred so loudly that when I curled up and laid my head against the soft fur of her belly, her inner motor drowned out the yelling. It would start when my father came home. It was usually late and we would be in our bunk beds. Alexandra was on the bottom; Lap Sue and I were on the top. I'd stroke her silky body and stare into her pale blue eyes. She'd stare back, half squinting, her eyes reassuring me. I would lie quietly, my body tensed, hearing but not wanting to hear, knowing I had to listen to make sure nothing bad happened, to make sure my mother was OK. I would creep out of bed and crack open the door. "Go back to your room," she'd say. "I'm fine."
One of my clearest early memories is of a summer's day when a whale washed ashore at the beach. It was my first contact with the world that would one day dominate my life: television. I was six, Alexandra was seven, and our baby sister, Francesca, was two. We were in Kennebunkport, Maine. It was a treat to trade New Jersey's sweltering summer heat for the cooler New England beach. Even rarer, we were all together, a mother and father and three little girls with sand pails and bathing suits, staying in a motel room with a kitchenette, on a real family vacation. Some nights we got to eat dinner out, with the thrill of grilled cheese and French fries, which we never had at home. Other nights my mother cooked fresh seafood, including lobsters. We made friends with the crustaceans en route from the fish market, and when they were lowered into their liquid graves, the cauldron of boiling water on the stove, it broke our hearts. During the days, we frolicked in the giant waves of the Atlantic. My parents were born on either side of this ocean, and by now the gulf between them had grown as wide and as deep. The beach was my father's domain; my mother's fair skin kept her out of the sun, so it was my father who played with us by the sea. Out in the waves, he held us tight so we wouldn't go under. We squealed in delight.
One morning the tranquil scene was spoiled. Surrounded by a gathering crowd, an enormous gray blob was lying on the beach. At first I could not figure out what it was. I had never seen anything like it. It was giant and smelled sickly, choking the freshness of the sea air. A moat of gooey oil streaked with blood surrounded it. Finally I understood that it was a baby whale that had been hit by a boat, its big blubbery corpse now washed up on the beach. Soon a local TV reporter arrived. It was the first time I had ever seen a TV camera. The crew filmed the giant ocean casualty and then turned their camera on me. Now I realize what a perfect television image it was, a small girl weeping at the sight of this huge, wasteful death. Later, viewing the world's pain through a TV lens became my way of life.
My mother was Scots-Irish, from a well-to-do Protestant family in Belfast, Northern Ireland, the daughter of a barrister with a houseful of servants. My father was the son of an overbearing immigrant Jewish mother who landed in New Jersey and burdened her children with all the pain and paranoia of the small Russian village she grew up in. When my parents met at medical school in Belfast, their romance spoiled each other's plans to be a doctor. Years later I came to see what an act of rebellion their union was for each of them. For my father, my mother's proper British ways were a distinct step outside the insular family life of Jewish immigrants whose ambition--to turn their son into a doctor--was more important than love or happiness. For my mother, befriending a clever and charming American was an escape from the cloistered life of postwar Northern Ireland. They married quickly, and Alexandra and I were born within a couple of years. My mother quit medical school to take care of us. My father was unable to finish either, and was reduced to taking odd jobs.
By the time we moved to America in 1964, there was already tumult in my parents' domestic life. My father had been so afraid of his domineering family that he could not bring himself to tell his own mother that he had married a non-Jew. He didn't tell her that he was married at all, or that her first grandchildren had been born. When he went home to New Jersey, ahead of us, he still did not tell his family. No doubt he was afraid that his mother would blame his failure at medical school on this Protestant woman, this shiksa who had lured him into marriage.
When my mother, Alexandra, and I arrived by ship, he met us at the pier. But there was no home to go to. For a while we lived like vagabonds, traipsing from the house of one acquaintance to the next. Once he finally confessed to our existence, my father's mother and sister refused to see us. They wielded enough emotional power over him to make him unwilling or unable to stand up to them, and he often went to see them by himself.
Although I never really got to know him, relatives told me later that my father was a highly intelligent and emotional man who had trouble holding a job for long. Most of what money he did earn went to his mother, so deep was his guilt about marrying outside the tribe. As a result, his wife was essentially stranded in a foreign land with small children she could barely feed. As we grew up, we lived a half hour away from my grandmother, but she still would not see us, her only grandchildren.
Uncle Leon, my father's unmarried older brother, was the only member of his family who broke ranks and came to visit. He had no wife or children of his own and lived with my grandmother, so we were the closest he ever got to a taste of family life. He probably braved a lot of wrath from his mother by coming to see us, but he came anyway. He was the only connection I had to my father's family.
As a child, I worshiped my mother. She was beautiful, strong, and regal, despite the decidedly unregal circumstances in which we often lived. She held her head high in a town where people were generally judged by their income. Perhaps she was spared harsh judgment because she was an outsider and appeared sophisticated even while lugging our dirty clothes to the Laundromat or paying for our groceries with food stamps. I knew how badly we needed the government-sponsored food aid, but I was embarrassed when she pulled out the blue-and-green booklet while we were standing in the supermarket line, wishing she would take them out at the last minute so nobody but the checkout person would see. With this shame, I often weighed whether or not to go to the supermarket with her, but my desire to be with her usually won out. She was devoted to us, and we to her. She worked three jobs to pay for our ballet classes and my oboe lessons. After all she sacrificed, I was terrified of failing her by bringing home a bad report card. She was a firm disciplinarian, determined to see us work hard. She always corrected our grammar, forbade gum chewing, and hounded us to do our homework. I could always get out of doing menial tasks like the dishes if I went and practiced my oboe.
My mother never let our poverty define us. With whatever she had, she always bought the best. We ate Swiss chocolates or none at all. She concocted exquisite meals on our food-stamp fare. It didn't matter how tatty our apartment was; it was often full of distinguished academics from a nearby university who, oblivious to the surroundings, were drawn to my mother's charm, beauty, and excellent cooking. My mother felt superior to most Americans: she thought American wealth was vulgar, so often unaccompanied by good manners, education, or social refinement. She had nothing but contempt for the parents of my more affluent friends, whose children would go home to an empty house and whose mothers took them to McDonald's. We often had no money for new school clothes but were brought up to believe we were somehow better bred than the other children.
Having been brought up with servants, my mother wasn't born to housework. She always seemed to be ironing or sorting clothes, but despite her valiant attempts, our house always looked like a mess. There were mountains of laundry, piles of dishes, stacks of books. And the newspapers. They were everywhere. My father collected them and refused to let my mother throw them out. They lined the walls of my parents' bedroom, yellow, dusty, and half-read. The electricity and phone were often turned off because my father had not given her money to pay the bills, but our sheets were ironed meticulously, as were the linen napkins. Perhaps it soothed her to make some order in the chaos that she fought so hard to hide.
To my mother, expressing an emotion was a bad American habit to be discouraged. "It's vulgar to talk about yourself," she would often say, though sometimes she talked of the grand life she had left behind in Belfast. I loved hearing her stories, partly because her life seemed such a mystery. She had lived in the country with horses and dogs. It seemed a lot to give up to be with us. I often feared that she'd tire of our life and go back to her exalted country, leaving us behind. I wanted to be good and not let her down, to give her every reason to stay. I stuck to her side like glue, terrified to let her out of my sight. Many years later, I thought that maybe because I spent so much time keeping track of her, somewhere along the way I lost track of myself.
I learned to subsist on tiny crumbs of love. My mother was an extraordinary cook, but emotional sustenance was scarce. It must have taken all her strength to hunker down and survive and bring us up practically on her own. Maybe she couldn't let down her reserve, even for a minute, for fear it would all unravel. She seemed to pour all her love into feeding us elaborately. But I still felt emotionally malnourished. I learned to sate my hunger in unsavory places later on, with men so incapable of showing affection that they always left me in a state of near-starvation. I thought it was like indulging in fast food: when you eat greasy French fries, you know you'll regret it later. But sometimes I was so ravenous I didn't care. I seemed to accept almost any man who took notice and paid attention to me. I often failed to look them over and see how unappetizing they were. Always so well fed, yet starving.
Since my father wasn't around much, I lived in an all-female world with my mother and two sisters. My towering flame-haired mother with her long, chiseled, aristocratic nose looked as if she had stepped out of the Victorian era. Alexandra looked wild and woolly, with an exquisite face that also looked as if it were from an earlier century, a face more at home on the walls of Europe's finest art galleries than the streets of New Jersey. I, too, had corkscrew-curly hair, and no amount of ironing or hair rollers would straighten it enough to let me look like my classmates. Francesca, the youngest, with straight blond hair and huge blue eyes, always seemed the most American. We used to call her Marilyn, from The Munsters, that seventies TV show about a family of assorted freaks and vampires that had one normal-looking relative.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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Distinguished French classical pianist and recitalist.
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- "I'm not the only one who is thinking about life issues these days and to sing about that there is no one in Canada better than Hugh."
- Pedro Guevera Mann, Salt & Light TV
- "Life Is The Only Choice" ... is not only a pro-life song ...was an excellent choice for the Marian Song Festival [in Guatemala]."
- Catholic music network
- "Participants in Canada's annual March for Life on Parliament Hill will recognize the pro-life music and testimony of Hugh ...One of Canada's most well-loved pro-life musicians."
- Pete Vere, The Interim, Dec. 2007
Prolife songs by other artists
Songs not linked can be found on Google or Youtube:
- "Can I Live" - Nick Cannon
- "Happy Birthday" - Flipsyde
- "There's a Life Inside You" - Matthew West
- Pro life song - Cheri DeGruccio
- "My Chance" by Jamie Thietten
- "Miracle" - Whitney Houston
- Cry of the Unborn - Dustin Tavella
- Someone From the Church Across the Street - Buddy Mullins
- A Life that Matters, Here's song I like sung by Alicia Gardner, written and produced by Hugh Grow: Life that Matters (MP3 3.6 MG.) Here's a video some friends made of it.
- His Momma Didn't Want Him Too Writer: Glenn Wolfe, Singer: Joel Wolfe Momma Didn't Want Him (mp3)
- Writer: Kenny Merriken. In them old killing fields back home (mp3)
- "Brick" by Ben Fold's five
- There goes my life - Kenny Chesney
- "You Can't Be Too Strong," by Graham Parker. Although it's not explicitly pro-life, this tune describes the horror of abortion with bracing honesty: "Did they tear it out with talons of steel, and give you a shot so that you wouldn't feel?"
- "Keep Your Hands to Yourself," by The Georgia Satellites. An outstanding vocal performance, with lyrics that affirm old-time sexual mores: "She said no huggy, no kissy until I get a wedding vow."
- "The Icicle Melts," by The Cranberries. A pro-life tune sung by Irish warbler Dolores O'Riordan: "I don't know what's happening to people today / When a child, he was taken away . . . 'Cause nine months is too long."
- "Two Sisters," by The Kinks. Why the "drudgery of being wed" is more rewarding than bohemian life.
- "Abortion," by Kid Rock. A plaintive song sung by a man who confronts his unborn child's abortion: "I know your brothers and your sister and your mother too / Man I wish you could see them too.
- "Your Little Boy" by Song by John and Eileen Lopker
Lord Jesus, let Your prayer of unity for Christians
become a reality, in Your way.
We have absolute confidence
that you can bring your people together,
we give you absolute permission to move.


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To the Editor:—
May I be permitted to differ with Dr. Buck of Boston on the term "goose flesh," "goose bumps" or "goose pimples?" The time honored Latin for this condition is "cutis anserinus" which methinks should be translated "goose skin," not "flesh."
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|Basic Literacy
|Community Impact
Sometimes called a General Equivalency Diploma, the GED® is a computer-based test offered at various test sites in Pennsylvania (see below). To earn a GED credential, a student must pass four subject tests, with a passing score on each. Earning a GED generally is recognized as having the qualifications equivalent to a high school diploma. For more information and/or to register for a test, visit www.ged.com.
All DCLC adult students are assessed before being placed in a class or with a tutor. Interested adults must call to register for orientation and assessment at 610.876.4811.
In January 2014, the GED Testing Service changed the GED test. The content of the new test is more complex than the previous test, and the test is now administered on the computer.
Not having a high school diploma can hurt a person's ability to get a job and to earn a living wage once employed. In Delaware County there are 50,400 adults, 9% of our population, who did not complete high school. The Bureau of Labor Statistics says that people without a high school diploma or GED have an unemployment rate 50% higher than people with a diploma or GED.
According to the GED Testing Service, adults who take the GED test on computer are finishing faster and scoring higher. The video below clarifies the difference between a computer-based test and an on-line test (which is not an option for the GED).


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East Village Landmark Love Saves the Day Will Close Sunday
Wacky store where Madonna shopped in 'Desperately Seeking Susan' to exist only in Pennsylvania!
OMG, you, too, moved to New York because of Desperately Seeking Susan (in which Madonna trades her leather pyramid jacket for rhinestone boots at the shop Love Saves the Day)?! Well, you can cry right along with us, then: After nearly twenty years on 7th Street and
Avenue A Second Avenue and a few months of closing-out sales, the iconic purveyor of all manner of wacky kitsch will finally exist only at its sister shop in New Hope, Pennsylvania. As Jeremiah's Vanishing New York puts it, "That's a long way to go for Star Wars action figures and rubber poop." [EV Grieve]


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Ali Lohan Steps Out in Beverly Hills
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Sun Crop Nursery
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A new ad from an Italian tea company flips the script on what usually happens when someone falls asleep at the wheel.
In it, a camera surveys a messy living room where a small boy has crashed his toy car, leaving smashed pottery and broken toys in his wake.
The camera then pans to the culprit, a steaming mug of Sognid'oro camomille tea that caused the boy to fall asleep at the wheel.
The ad then offers one final message: "Don't drink and drive."
Here's the full spot, made by DLV BBDO:
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SEE ALSO: These Job Applicants Were Told They'd Be Paid Nothing If They Were Hired � Then They Found Out Why
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The Deader the Better: A Leo Waterman Mystery (Mass Market Paperbound)
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Seattle p.i. Leo Waterman isn't looking for trouble when he and his forensic pathologist girlfriend Rebecca escape into the Washington wilder for a few days of relaxation -- it just seems to find him. An old friend has purchased some choice property here in North America's only rain forest and his posting of "No Trespassing" signs has incurred the wrath of every sportsman for miles around. But what starts as irksome harassment by the offended locals soon escalates into the real of the lethal. And it's just Waterman's luck to be in the epicenter of this murderous mess at the very moment it bursts into flames.
About the Author
G.M. Ford escaped teaching English at a community college to write full time. He never (well, rarely) suffers fools, and he enjoys music, cooking, eating other people s cooking, boating, golfing, and arguing about everything under the sun. He is the author of more than a dozen novels, including Cast in Stone, The Deader the Better, Red Tide, and The Nature of the Beast.