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The Burning of Kiz (by Frank)
To take up the sword is to be humbled. Every thrust and parry is a constant reminder to the limits of one's reach. Beware, your eminence, he who would wield his Cants as steel.
– Cartanian, Reply to the Principle of the Oaranat
What is analogy, if not falsehoods that seduce through their resemblance to truth?
– Altheus, Book of Standards
3793 Year-of-the-Tusk, Carythusal
Grandmaster Shinurta walked between candlelit shelves, reordering the scrolls according to some private fancy. It did not matter that he rarely spent time in the teaching libraries. All knowledge residing within the fortress of Kiz also belonged to him.
"Master Safras tells me you have been studying the Refutations," He asked the young man trailing behind him. "What have you learned so far?"
The student followed in silence. As cowed as he was by the Grandmaster's personal scrutiny, he still flaunted some small obstinance under the rules of jnan.
"Do you suffer a malady of the tongue, young prince?"
Levininas scowled behind the old man's back. Knives behind every word. He know I am a prince of nothing among the Scarlet Spires.
"Nomedius is a terrible philosopher," he finally muttered, more to himself that to the Grandmaster.
Shinurta turned and stroked his well oiled beard in the way of solemn men, pondering solemn words. "I see."
"His rhetoric resembles the classics only in their tone," Levinias continued when no rebuke was forthcoming. "He is a provincialist hiding beneath the scholar's cap."
Shinurta paused in deep contemplation. "I see," he repeated, then spoke as if struck by unexpected by insight. "But what of parody? Have you considered if the defects of his rhetoric were intentional?"
Recklessness, resentment, dangers foreseen and ignored. Levinias spoke without care.
"Intentionally bad is still bad."
A hint of amusement flickered across the Grandmaster's face. "The ancients are long dead, Levinias. They do not know you. Why should their words chafe you so?"
The young prince clenched his hands in frustration. He could give no answer.
"In some respects you are correct," Shinurta lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Although I would not share this with all your tutors. Yet even terrible philosophers have their lessons. Nomedius certainly was no heir to Ajencis. He was a caste-noble trained in the tradition of scholars, and so believed that all nobles should aspire to be scholars. But as Ajencis taught us, men tend to value only what they know. The scholar prince could find no common ground with nobles entranced by power. Predictably, he went on to make a virtue of his own deficiencies."
The Grandmaster's appraisal caused Levinias to unclench a little. "Sincerity is the truest form of flattery. That is to say, not very true at all," he quoted the philosopher. The words finally hinted at a deeper significance than the blandness of their trivial insight. There was a history here. A man had lived and died by his sayings.
"No medicine is as sweet as sympathy, but poisons oft delight the senses," Sinurta added. "There are many such observations from his latter works. Nomedius was clearly a very perceptive man, but that awareness was seldom turned inwards. No one at court would tolerate his aloofness, so he came to see the very idea of camaraderie as a weakness of lesser men." The Grandmaster searched for a candle and lit it with an ancient phrase, "Speak plainly, Levinias, do you think we have treated you unfairly?"
Jnan brooked few exceptions, and the desire to speak plain was not among them. As much as Levinias hated its rules, he knew them well enough to play along. "Fairness is the lie of tyrants and lovers," he answered without answering.
Shinurta laughed aloud, a surprisingly hearty sound for one so bent with age. "Perhaps we have kept you in these halls for too long."
Levinias stared at his sandals, eager to avoid the illumination that had sprung up before him. He thought back to the many seasons of watching the other students, heads shorter, much younger, and often not as talented, don their embroidered Initiates' robes and leave the outer dormitories for the last time. His fists clenched again, so hard that he thought he might draw blood. The twin whips of anger and shame made him want to vomit.
Shinurta tactfully ignored the adolescent spectacle. "A king retains his post only with the consent of nations," he said. "But a sorcerer remains a sorcerer so long as he can sing the Cants. We address you with courtesy because you came to us a prince, yet you flinch from word to word and think we mock you out of malice. We do not mock, Levinias. To speak ill against nothing accomplishes nothing. The courtesies are for your benefit alone."
Unwanted tears rolled down reddened cheeks. "But I am more than nothing, Grandmaster!" Levinias cried. "I have studied so hard for so long! Why won't anyone teach me the words?"
"Rank among Schoolmen can only come through the mastery of thought and speech. We can walk no other ground." The Grandmaster's voice feigned the loss of interest that colored so much of jnan. He returned his gaze to the scrolls.
Levinias brushed his eyes against his sleeve. "I— I don't understand."
"And that is the first piece of true wisdom you have uttered today," Shinurta answered. "Your lessons in the exoterics ended months ago, young prince, but you never once sought to advance."
3807 Year-of-the-Tusk, the River Sayut
Ships large and small cleared a path for the galley leaving the fortress of Kiz. Curious onlookers craned their necks, their eyes darting from the galley to red enameled walls and back again. Many cursed under their breath when they spied the figures aboard, while others made the sign of Momas, fearing the vessel's very existence might bring about the Sea God's ire.
The galley flew no banner as it travelled the length of the Secharib Plains. There was little need. No one without a Chorae armed host at his back would be so mad as to challenge a ship full of Scarlet Magi.
As the days passed, riverbank paddies filled with bend back slaves yielded to emerald fields of sugarcane as far as the eye could see. The Grandmaster of the Scarlet Spires marveled at his own elation. Had he truly toiled among the painted faces of Carythusal for so long that the feeling of a summer breeze should prove more of a surprise than a reminder?
He could hear the servants preparing his noonday meal. More fish, no doubt. The journey upriver demanded ludicrous haste. There had simply been no time to secure more tolerable provisions for the days long trip to Moserothu.
Shinurta smiled in good humour. A Grandmaster reduced to dining on caste-merchant fare. What sacrifices I've made for my School!
Alarmed voices snapped him from his reverie. A crowd jostled towards the galley's tip. Several of the younger acolytes leaned overboard as far as they dared, before turning to each other in confusion.
The Grandmaster squinted hard at the source of the commotion, but his failing eyesight could make out nothing. Another gift taken for granted in youth, he thought, and not for the first time pondered his reluctance to take up the narcotic chanv. For years he had weighed the merit of spending another lifetime in passionless sterility, but now that the whole of Jekhia warred in open revolt, the choice was no longer his to make. In a strange way, news of upheaval in the tributary state had come as a welcome relief.
At last he saw the sight as well. Greasy black plumes of smoke made mockery of an unblemished sky. Thin lines of flame danced across distant fields, occasionally outlining what might have been the tiny silhouettes of upright men.
A Subdidact began chanting.
"Save your Cants," Shinurta waved dismissively to his followers. "Slaves always burn the fields before harvest. No Jekhian army rides our way. "
The distant fire soured his mood. Not from any intimations of doom—after all, anything could be taken as divine portent if one looked hard enough—but from the reactions it provoked. Few among the Scarlet Spires had risen to the threat of open war as well as the princely protege who now headed the school in his absence. Instead, many once reliable Schoolmen lost themselves to indecision. If something as mundane as a brush fire could unsettle so many, then how well would they fare if they were ever called upon to repulse crusading armies? How long would they stand firm if, just as at Atyersus, Carythusal itself came under siege?
Inevitably, Shinurta's thoughts returned to the cause of his rushed expedition. At this very moment, armies of Inrithi faithful laid siege to the Mandate's island fortress home. After its mission departed empty handed from Carythusal in the previous year, the Scarlet Spires had uncovered little more than hearsay on the Gnostic School's fate.
That all changed four days ago. A single letter had thrown the Scarlet Spires into uproar.
The King of High Ainon bids greeting to all his esteemed subjects. Let it be known that we have received with due observance several far travelled petitioners from Attrempus. While our guests profess gratitude towards our hospitality, regarding the purpose of their arrival, they reveal only that they bring news of affairs in the Empire and the Ancient North. We are magnanimous in our patience, for while still over wearied from their travels, our guests consented to no further discourse save with the Grandmaster of the Scarlet Spires. Though their ill-mannered ways are many, jnan demands we preserve in their stead some small measure of their dignity. We trust you shall receive the petitioners at Moserothu within ten days of our writing and bring this matter to fortuitous conclusion.
Under witness of the God and His Aspects, King Narumizu Horziah III
Separated from High Ainon by harsh terrain and hostile nations, the Scarlet Spires never assumed the Mandate would dispatch an overland embassy from their distant second stronghold. Now the School was forced to grovel before two factions while the King of High Ainon played host at his summer palace. The King's insincere politeness and false piety, his inevitable demands for recompense, even the arrogance of his outrageous deadline, every last slight could be endured if what his letter implied was true. For all his jnanic posturing, the King had acted as little more than the unwitting bearer of the embassy's true message.
They bring news of affairs in the Empire and the Ancient North.
Those simple words hinted at an unprecedented opportunity, as well as great danger. Across the Three Seas, only a single other Major School retained the sanction of its host nation. Imperial Saik or Scarlet Spires, one would be offered the secrets of the Gnosis.
Plans were made, motions debated, and a not inconsiderable amount of wine was drunk. The Scarlet Spires held its collective breath as it waited for further confirmation. Word came that very evening on furtive Cants of Calling sent from the shadows the King's own court. The Orchid Palace had shone with unnatural lights at night. All of Moserothu was abuzz with dread speculation.
Few annoyances irritated the Grandmaster as much as being forced to act in ignorance. His earlier elation dashed, Shinurta fretted over pivotal events yet to come. The Scarlet Spires had a long and brutal history of trying to wrest the Gnosis from its keepers. War against a common foe could erase a great many enmities, but so too could they be intensified. There was little telling what heartbreaking terms the Mandate might demand for the many past wrongs it had suffered.
Shinurta resolved to send for his handpicked successor by nightfall. Not bringing Levinias before his royal uncle had been a mistake. In spite of professing concerns for the King's mercurial temperament, Shinurta realized his true motivation for leaving the prince behind was ultimately due to a selfish desire to lay sole claim to a legacy befitting a Grandmaster. But when the future of his School hung in the balance, such vanity was a luxury he could no longer afford.
The proud are humbled in their fall, better to never stand so tall.
As much as it galled him, Shinurta had to admit even The Tractate hid a few kernels of wisdom among its epics of self righteous nonsense.
Six knights under the royal banner shadowed the galley along the far riverbank. Their mounts obscured by densely packed sugarcane, the men almost appeared to float across a parallel river. It would be another half day's ride inland to Moserothu once the galley reached the nearest docks. To Shinurta, spending so much time on horseback was only slightly more unpleasant than the prospect of exchanging pleasantries with the lead horseman. He seethed at the pinprick blot of the caste-noble's distant Chorae. Uncouth savages. They might as well be receiving him with drawn swords in hand.
"Do the King's Guards mean to slight us, Grandmaster?" asked the easily frightened Subdidact. "Why do they not—"
And then he was gone, erased from the deck by the setting of a second sun. A wall of flame roared past the Grandmaster's reflexive Wards. In an instant the forward half of the ship became a bonfire of maddened screams. Men dove blindly for the river, or simply fell and never stirred again.
The other riders overtook the Trinket bearer. Unearthly light blazed from their eyes and mouth.
Shocked awareness dawned on the Grandmaster. Clever bastards, thrice damned clever bastards! The assailants had hid their sorcerous Mark under the baleful shadow of the Chorae.
"Take to the skies!" Shinurta shouted against the din. Despite the sudden chaos of battle, he appreciated the peculiar irony that his pride may have just saved his favourite student's life.
The Grandmaster of the Scarlet Spires stepped into the air and wove dire tales of wrath. Phantom rifts tore open beneath his assailants' feet, bathing their Wards in pillars of liquid fire. Allegories of ice cracked and shattered. The earth blackened at the touch of his song.
The surviving Schoolmen sang their Wards, or tried to. A red robed figure doubled over in agony and fell head first into the water. Two others were each struck down by a single shard of glowing ice. When one dared rise again, a dozen more shards pinned his body like a bloody trophy against the upper mast.
Even as Shinurta called upon his most potent Analogies, he dissected truth from the false knights' sorcerous Concert. The idiosyncrasies of their stance, how they leaned into their Wards and traced shapes with weaving hands, gave away their meager affiliation. These were sorcerers of the Nilitar Compact, mere dilettantes whose laughable mannerisms bespoke the crudity of their Cants. On a sane day they would have looked up to the learning of his School with as much envy as the Scarlet Spires looked to the Mandate. They spoke no Gnostic Abstractions. Far from it, most of their incantations were scarcely more impressive than the connotic utterances learned by Initiates as stepping stones to true sorcerous Analogies. Yet the world was yoked to their madness. How could senior sorcerers of rank be undone by something so trivial? How could so many be felled so quickly and by so few? Shinurta howled impossible words, rage his only answer.
Ethereal chains unfurled above flotsam to thresh prized wheat from bloodied chaff. The others swayed their limbs and made idols of their speech. Only one man contemplated the grand deception he had wrought. By the promise of power the Scarlet Spires had been undone, but were the desperate hopes of his own people any less given to delusion?
From infinite Synaxis, we will make gods of ourselves…
A false path led nowhere, regardless of how much time one had to walk it. Any salvation promised by mere words, Cartanian finally understood, could be undone just as easily.
Sorcerous flames wreathed his calloused hands. Open or clenched, he felt none of their heat.
3808 Year-of-the-Tusk, Carythusal
Although he had less and less opportunity of late, Levinias often came to the student libraries during his brief moments of respite. The walls seemed to have shrunk in the intervening years since his own tutelage, but the rows of parchment on age worn shelves still promised timeless wisdom. Outside were horrors, desperation, betrayals, and talk, endless talk. But here among the scrolls, listening to the scratching of quills as children learned their letters, it reminded him of simpler times.
Glistening reflections of candlelight spied him from behind a shelf. The young sorcerer beckoned with an outstretched hand. Outlines of a face and sandals shrank from view.
"What is the matter? Speak."
A child shuffled forth with downcast eyes, and made many halting apologies before posing a question regarding the court letters of the philosopher Nomedius.
Levinias raked his memories for some relevant insight. Recalling none, he resorted to the trick he had seen performed so many times by men who had nothing to say, but were forced to seem wise before their peers.
"Consider the circumstances, child. Why do you think this is so?"
The student wrung his hands as he agonized over an interpretation of his own devising. Levinias listened and nodded with sagely approval.
I have no idea of what he speaks.
Years had passed since he last had the leisure to immerse himself in philosophy. Wars upturned many things, some more intangible than others.
Levinias examined the student. Ten, perhaps eleven. Certainly far too young to have ever known him as anyone but a sorcerer of rank. The child's minute frame conjured up an image of prepubescent legs dangling from an ornate oaken chair, while children of even younger age stood attentively at council. A chill ran through Levinias despite the warmth of his lavishly quilted robes. He tried to draw strength from the Grandmaster's faraway words of encouragement, words that had come increasingly seldom of late.
A polite cough from the hallway rescued him from further questions. The student withdrew, eyes full of wonder at the sight of powerful men attending to impossibly weighty affairs.
"The hour is late, Master Safras," Levinias said. "We can discuss our dwindling vellum stocks tomorrow."
"A new matter acquires your attention. I am afraid this cannot wait." His onetime tutor bowed by way of apology. The sight filled Levinias with a fleeting moment of juvenile glee.
The two men ascended winding stairs towards the grand audience hall. Javreh and King's Guard alike stood at attention as they passed. The slave-soldiers had become enough of a fixture among the Spires that Levinias grew almost accustomed to the constant aura of giddy death that radiated from the Chorae bearing Captains. Master Safras was less accommodating. He shuffled every which way in his walk, dodging the periphery of sinkholes that promised certain oblivion.
The Javreh were one of the last matters the Grandmaster attended to before his departure for Moserothu. Many impassioned and petty words had been thrown about in council regarding their creation. In the end, Shinurta browbeat his detractors with a fury that was itself almost supernatural. It was agreed. The Scarlet Spires would no longer rely on mercenaries, who proved consistent only in the way they bled the treasuries while marching time and again to the edge of disaster. The pittance of royal guards sent by King Horizah would remain, but henceforth the School would arm its own slave soldiers.
There had been serious questions of expense and logistics, but what dismayed many sorcerers was the prospect of arming the slaves with Chorae. Theirs were an irony that stung, an extraordinary weapon against sorcery that could never be wielded by sorcerers. But to hand the few the School had captured over to its slaves? Surely such madness was unthinkable.
Shinurta's arguments were elegant in their simplicity. Men were ever ready to compromise their morality for advantage. When, not if, but when the Thousand Temples acquired sorcerous accomplices, the Scarlet Spires would need to secure every advantage in order to survive. Whereas tortures mutilated flesh, sorcery could violate the very soul, or so most people believed. And that was enough to cow an army of slaves, regardless of what a few of them may hold in their hands.
Still, whether out of pride or cowardice, not everyone was convinced. Even as council conceded to the measure, whispers persisted for weeks that this was a foolhardy stratagem by an old man desperate to maintain his slipping grip on power. A few dared to insinuate the Grandmaster played at an even darker game, that he was bargaining with the enemy for his few remaining years against the future of his entire School. Shinurta demonstrated the fallacy of the first complaint by personally, and permanently, removing the man responsible. As for the second rumour, all doubts were quashed when a jumble of incredulous voices from afar began whispering in dreams that a newly formed Major School had entered into alliance with the Thousand Temples.
What once appeared madness became the essence of sanity.
The gaunt figure of Master Safras fussed with his sleeves as he walked. "A man by the name of Xorias Cartanian presented himself at the gates. He claims he has come from Cironj."
The fortress home of the Scarlet Spires was constantly beset by sycophants, starving beggars, and the occasional Inrithi fanatic. Such rabble were all turned away with swiftness and precise brutality. The stranger's name meant nothing to Levinias, but the very fact that he merited a report showed this was no common arrival. Levinias thought back to the child in the library and marveled at the uncanny resemblance of the elderly Safras wringing his ink stained hands. The man was clearly distressed.
"What does our traveller want?"
The old man breathed deeply. For a moment he resembled nothing so much as a propped up sack of twigs, ready to fall apart at the slightest touch. The endless threat of war had not been kind to him.
"He asked for a private meeting with the First Principle of the Scarlet Spires," Safras spoke at length.
Levinias frowned. "First Principle?"
"A title among certain Minor Schools of the West."
The Scarlet Spires knew from their few remaining spies in the field that there were no more Minor Schools in the West. Those who did not defect to the Major Schools or flee for distant Zeüm had either been ground into dust by the holy war, or joined to form a new Major School.
A new School. "So he is Mysunsai."
And there it was. The betrayer School, lapdogs of the Thousand Temples. A sorcerer from the enemy camp had walked to the very gates of the Scarlet Spires.
What does this mean?
3808 Year-of-the-Tusk, Sumna
Gleaming Tusks raised in procession. Echoes of a hundred horns. An ocean of faces straining to hear words of ancient Laws.
"Cut from them their tongues, for their blasphemy is an abomination like no other!"
A palanquin lain down with mock solemnity. Mailed fists searching for their prize. A grandmaster's finery draped over mangled skin.
"Seal their lips with flax, for the sins of their voice are without measure!"
From above comes a man, but more than a man, bearing a Tear of God.
"Burn them, for they are Unclean!"
Ancient pillars thrown in relief. Judgment, cold and unyielding. A light that would cleanse the world.
3808 Year-of-the-Tusk, Carythusal
From the height of the grand audience hall, two sorcerers watched as guards escorted their guest inside the fortress of Kiz. The flickering torchlight gave little indication of the foreign sorcerer's bearing, save that he was of impressive stature.
Pacing the length of the resplendent hall, Levinias reluctantly admitted to himself he had little hope of overawing a reckless Schoolman with mundane opulence. The severe tapestries and rows of gilded chairs appeared ridiculously excessive for the purpose of receiving a single man.
"I will arrange for additional patrols," said Master Safras, oblivious to any considerations of artistic propriety. "This may be the prelude to an ambush."
Levinias examined the lavish mural above his intended seat. The last belligerent general of Cenei was forever caught breaking his sword before the legendary founder of High Ainon. Had the scene always looked so garish?
"Assuming there is no ambush. What then?"
"Then we set one of our own," Safras cleared his throat, betraying a hint of unease. "The Mysunsai are dogs. We can uncover all his secrets without ever striking a bargain with his kind."
Levinias stroked his beard. He kept it unbraided for convenience and, truth be told, flair, but now its simplicity made him feel self conscious. He resisted the urge to re-oil it before the meeting. "I would not risk a battle here without first finding out what he wants," he said. "Please have someone prepare the Grandmaster's private audience chamber. I will receive him there."
Master Safras left without bowing. Polite entreaties aside, he still resented being order about like a chamberlain.
Ever since the Grandmaster departed on his embassy, Levinias had dreaded the prospect of being called to appear before the King. All his years of tutelage and being groomed for leadership, he understood, was part of a long reaching plan to form closer ties between the Scarlet Spires and the throne. One day soon, he would be expected to return to his uncle's court, to serve a man he once loved but now could scarcely remember. Vizier, they would call him, and look to him to transform the Scarlet Spires from blasphemous pariahs into another Imperial Saik of the East—at least in public.
But now an enemy sorcerer had come, and all of a sudden he was faced with an equally imposing challenge. There was good reason for the different Schools to approach each other with stifling formality. As a rule, sorcerers saw themselves to be men of unsurpassed merit, unjustly denounced by an ignorant world. When facing others who suffered similar extremes of pride, the results were often dangerously unpredictable. Just as his conduct before the King would mark his place at court, how he handled this encounter could determine his future standing among his peers.
Rather than wait for an attendant to summon the stranger, Levinias decided to greet him in person.
The foreign sorcerer was tall, with stone grey eyes and the well tanned, muscular build of a seasoned warrior, or perhaps a particularly well fed laborer. His weather beaten tunic and unkempt beard bespoke of a far travelled man who did not have the luxury of oils or braids, while his dirt covered nails simply spoke of bad manners. Were it not for his Mark, Levinias would have scarcely believed such a brute could also number among the Few.
"Greetings," the prince bowed curtly to his guest. "You must be Xorias Cartanian, of the Mysunsai. Shall I address you as First Principle?"
The sorcerer tucked under his arm the mangled ball of wolf fur that passed for his hat. "Former First Principle of the Nilitar Compact," he corrected. "I have no titles now. And you must be Prince Narumizu Levinias, esteemed leader of the Scarlet Spires." He bowed much lower than required between sorcerers of equal rank.
A bow towards a Grandmaster. The thought thrilled and terrified Levinias in equal measure.
"Only until Grandmaster Shinurta's return," the prince hastily answered. He tucked his arms into his sleeves. "Please, follow me."
Xorias Cartanian filled his short walk to the audience chamber with idle chatter. His boots left muddy prints on the immaculate tiles with his every step. Levinias listened with outward politeness but increasing apprehension. The man skirted jnanic transgression with flamboyant ease.
A pair of the King's Guard opened nondescript doors to a pitch black room. Levinias favoured Master Safras with a rare thought of approval. The old man had likely handpicked the two guards in order to reflect solidarity between King and School. Perhaps when it came to appearances he was not so hopeless after all.
The prince lit the first candle in complete darkness. Three others he also set alight with a single phrase. He knew the layout of the room intimately. "Men do not fear the unknown," Grandmaster Shinurta once told him, "so much as the moment of glimpsing it."
A servant stepped from a side chamber carrying bowls of wine. From his own experience, Levinias knew the servant would appear as a ghost emerging from nowhere, or perhaps as someone who had stood motionless in the darkness the entire time.
The rudely dressed foreigner was utterly unfazed. "May I trouble you for something to eat as well? Cironji traveller's fare is…" he made a face.
Levinias instantly regretted the theatrics. They seemed childish now that he was the one sitting in the Grandmaster's seat. He recalled the servant to bring additional refreshments.
The foreign sorcerer attacked his plate of fruits and sweetbreads. He licked his fingers with relish between lengthy gulps of wine. More pointless gossip followed as he ate.
Levinias cringed when it dawned on him that the stranger had been waiting for him to speak the 'fortuitous turn' of words that would lead talk to weightier matters. A smarter man would have realized this much sooner, he thought. No matter, time to fake some wit.
But something about the sorcerer's boorish mannerism struck all the wit from his thoughts. Dispensing with jnan, which was of course another move in jnan, Levinias opted for the direct approach.
"So tell me, First Principle, why would a Mysunsai Schoolman arrive unannounced at our door?"
Cartanian followed with all the subtlety of a hammer. "Because, Prince, that Mysunsai Schoolman led the attack that captured your Grandmaster. He thinks the news important."
"Grandmaster Shinurta bested by the Mysunsai?" Levinias let derision slip into his voice. "Impossible. The Mandate would never have yielded their secrets to the likes of you."
"What?" Cartanian frowned, for a moment genuinely confused. "The Gnosis had nothing to do with you Grandmaster's defeat. No, our hashish eating brothers in Nilnamesh believe they have mastered an entirely new metaphysics." He returned his gaze to his morsels as one already losing interest in the conversation at hand. "While the truth is far less impressive than their claims, you School will be fatally unprepared."
Levinias sought reassurance in the tingling aura of the chamber's many defensive Wards. He tilted his head ever so slightly, affecting a look of bemusement rather than the terror that gripped his chest. "You would threaten my School? Here, of all places?"
"Would I?" Cartanian matched the pose with infuriating exactness. He hefted aloft a grapefruit, then thought better of it.
Knowing when to break with jnan was central to its mastery, but Levinias felt his anger rise at the man's singular focus on how he chose to do so. He wondered if Cartanian's stone grey eyes truly were animated by deadly cunning, and no some genuine crazed obsession with fruit. Making perilous wagers against wily foes was to be expected when dealing with other sorcerers, but could his adversary in fact be insane? The thought of that melted his anger into fear. Sane men simply did not arrive alone and unannounced at the stronghold of the Scarlet Spires to claim they had captured the Grandmaster. Insane sorcerers, on the other hand, tended to be dangerously free with their Cants.
"Would you indeed," the prince decided to test his opponent's madness. "I once had a tutor who assured me that there were no foolish questions. He was one of the most foolish people I have ever met in my life."
Cartanian helped himself to another orange. "Don't you think that's being rather unfair to Master Safras?" he asked. "As much as we might both find him tiresome, he's not an imbecile. I look forward to testing my skills against his."
Levinias struggled to keep his terror in check. Just how far had his enemies penetrated the Scarlet Spires? "Have care," he warned. "Utter one word of sorcery here, and all of my School will descend upon you in an instant."
"Not all of your School, I suspect." Cartanian held the half peeled orange in his mouth and rummaged for a sheaf of parchment under his tunic. He casually tossed it into the prince's lap. "The Shirah's record keepers are very thorough."
Levinias inspected the ornate columns of High Sheyic script. It proclaimed divine forgiveness in recognition for services rendered onto the Thousand Temples. He read and reread the name scrawled on the far edge in red ink.
It is you, isn't it? It has to be you.
"Well this is ridiculous," he retorted with a tone of doubt he did not feel. "You would have me believe that Master Safras betrayed our School over promises of a shortcut into Heaven?"
"And a lifetime of being fed by Inrithi coffers," Cartanian added. "What better rumour to spread against your superior that the familiar guilt you would hide in your heart?"
Levinias felt short of breath. He was grasping at straws and still drowning.
"Ridiculous," he insisted a second time. "If Safras works with you towards some common mischief, then why did he ask for you to be seized when you first arrived? And if you arrival is an unexpected betrayal of his plots, then why did he relent on your capture?"
"I don't know, doubt?" Cartanian threw up his hands in exasperation. "Your logic has confounded me! I assumed most of my efforts would be spent convincing you the Shiral Remission is real, or perhaps answering questions of your Grandmaster's fate. Instead—" he spat a pip into the darkness. "If our discussion comes to nothing, I will be very displeased with myself for several days."
The prince felt shamed by the words of his enemy. He took a deep breath to collect his thoughts. "You claim to have captured the Grandmaster. How?"
"Patience, skill, and so forth," Cartanian replied between mouthfuls, "Most sorcerers find utterals difficult when they're underwater. But truly, 'how' is not so important as…"
Levinias knew he was being baited, though his anger felt real nonetheless. If the question was not how, then, why? Or—
Cartanian tipped his wine bowl. "Four days after his departure. We ambushed the galley right before landfall. An agent of the Luthymae concealed our approach."
Levinias gripped the edge of his seat. Anger once again turned to horror. Words of arcane devastation coiled around his tongue.
This is ridiculous!
"There never was a Mandate delegation," the Mysunsai Schoolman continued, headless of how closely he tempted death. "We misled both your King and your School from the very beginning. The King has since forgiven us, as he must. As for how Grandmaster Shinurta continued to send his reassuring missives, well, I trust you can already guess."
"But the soul can be Compelled only for so long, before it no longer resembles itself."
A Grandmaster possessed by traitorous words for months! All of the Scarlet Spires deceived, by a man who chewed with his mouth open!
"The Mysunsai gather as we speak. We have demonstrated our power, and your King feels he has no choice. Soon they will be joined by armies from Conryia and march together under the banner of the Tusk."
Levinias knew what would follow. The streets of Carythusal in flames. The spires of Kiz felled like severed fingers. Men dashed against stone, their vaunted sorceries impotent before timeless hatred and cold calculation. Thousand year histories trampled into dust, while a name, his name, became the lingering curse of the dying.
His eyes brimmed with the tears of a child who once raged at the injustices of an indifferent world. The absurdities of Fate are… absurd.
"Master Levinias, are you unwell?"
Memories surfaced of a lesson learned years ago, when the world was still simple and no one spoke of war. Grandmaster Shinurta had taught him that cursing against circumstance was futile. Fate cared nothing for his passions. Only through action could the future be seized.
The prince rubbed the moisture from his eyes. He repeated a question that he realized was never truly answered. "Speak plainly, Cartanian, why have you come?"
"For the food?" the sorcerer laughed half heartedly at his own jest. He was suddenly overcome with a look of weariness that aged him beyond his years. "I need your help to save both our Schools from this war. I came because I know you."
Levinias offered his own bowl of wine. "Then tell me what you know."
Gone was Cartanian's mask of rustic insincerity. The Mysunsai sorcerer spoke as one possessed. He unravelled the hidden principles of Nilnameshi esoterica that gave such deadly advantage against the ignorant. He recounted the desperation of his fellow sorcerers, searching for salvation in the depths of their meager secrets. He piled scorn on his own past delusions born from those efforts, and cursed himself for convincing the rest of his School into seeking apotheosis on the borrowed time of Inrithi conquests. He painted a grim end to all mannish sorcery, where the betrayers, too, would be stamped out at the end of the holy war. Finally he came to his own desperate hope, that a catastrophic early defeat on the battlefield would force the Mysunsai to withdraw from their self destructive alliance. Ranks, dates, supply trails, strategies. Cartanian gave him everything he would need to rout an army. And through it all, Levinias choked on the bitter certainty that this was the man who had tormented his beloved mentor into madness.
If there was any justice in this world, I would kill him.
"You would consign your friends to death for believing in your own false teachings?" Levinias asked instead.
"All men are greater than dead men," Cartanian replied without hesitation. "The rest of the Mysunsai may survive, and the dead will go to their graves ignorant of my betrayal. That has to be enough." He drained his bowl of wine in a single gulp. "But you, prince, you must also pay a price."
"The King."
Cartanian nodded. "King Horizah believes he can keep the throne only if he follows his first betrayal with another."
Levinias was forced to admit that any guilt the King might feel for his unwitting part in the embassy deception, or any lingering fondness for his once beloved nephew, would mean little against proof of the Mysunsai's power. The Grandmaster's humiliating capture would have forced his hand. There would be no parley with King Horizah III, and there could be no mercy for his guards.
"I loved my uncle once," the prince whispered to himself. His earlier unbearable dread at the prospect of returning to court seemed from a lifetime ago.
Cartanian ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "That's not all," he spoke hesitantly. "I must claim your Initiates as well. Several have been seduced by the promises of wealth and absolution. Unlike Safras, I don't know who they are, but you cannot afford any treachery among your ranks."
Levinias crossed his arms in the gloom. "We have ways of uncovering spies."
"Perhaps," Cartanian admitted. "We both know your School's only chance for survival is to rout the King's army before it can gather at full strength. Say you do purge the ranks, what happens to the rest of your loyal followers? You'll sow doubt if you keep the interrogations secret, or panic if you expose the long reach of your enemies. How likely will your School still take to the field in either case?"
"Then what are you proposing?" Levinias said, not wishing to hear the answer.
"Mysunsai assassins ambushed your Grandmaster on his way back to the city," Cartanian pointed to himself. "Tonight one tries to kill you as well, but fail. Master Safras falls in your defense and the Initiates are killed when the assassin makes his escape. Safras dies a hero, while the others will be a blood debt that must be repaid. The Scarlet Spires will howl for vengeance." The unkempt sorcerer's eyes reflected madness, yet why did his words sound so sane?
"You go too far, Cartanian," the prince stood firm. "The Initiates are the future of my School. Too many innocents will lose their lives."
"Some for all. That is the price we pay," Cartanian said. "We can walk no other ground."
Levinias thought of his lifelong love for philosophy. He had spent countless evenings immersed in ancient works, fencing with the ignorance of others, as well as uncovering his own. For all his adult life, he had prized truth like a treasure. And now he was about to deceive his School in order to save them from themselves. Should he throw away the lives of his students like so many number-sticks, based solely on the words of the enemy? Could Cartanian's confession be merely another mask? Could his conclusions be an even more horrific lie, built on a graveyard of truths? He simply did not know.
"We are running out of time, Master Levinias!" Cartanian leapt from his seat. "The only explanation for my presence here is to cause havoc among your School. The Mysunsai knows I've come. They are watching this fortress even now. The longer we wait, the longer they'll suspect something is amiss. If they send word to the King's camp then everything could be lost."
A three headed serpent perched atop the entrance surveyed Levinias with quiet indifference. Above, the golden threaded pictogram for Truth gleamed in the candlelight.
"Please render me one last service, First Principle. Tell me what happened to my Grandmaster."
Cartanian looked down at his calloused hands. He was at a loss for words. "I don't know," he finally said. "We plied him with the Compulsions until he could no longer Call to you in your dreams. Once the Luthymae knew he had gone mad, they moved him to the coast to await their ships. He is long gone by now. I truly am sorry."
The Grandmaster of the Scarlet Spires summoned his onetime tutor to his audience chamber. The first casualty of the night would die pure.


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Friday, September 25, 2009
Don't Read if U don't want to laugh!
2. Jokes can be hazardous to health. Laugh Sparingly.
3. No one under 18 admitted.
4. No Solicitors.
5. No parking.
6. Trespassers will be prosecuted.
7. Outside food not allowed.
8. For a limited time only.
9. Conditions apply.
10. Employees and their family are not eligible.
11. Not for the weak hearted.
12. May be too intense for some viewers.
13. Edited for public viewing.
14. As seen on TV.
15. No animals were harmed in the making of this film.
16. Objects in the screen are closer than they appear.
17. Stunts have been performed by trained professionals. Do not try them at home.
18. May be hazardous to your health.
19. All models are over 18 years of age.
20. Quantities are limited.
21. Quality may vary.
22. Sealed for your protection.
23. Subject to change without notice.
24. Breaking seal voids warranty.
25. Offer is subject to market risks.
26. Please read offer document carefully before investing.
27. Accessories shown here may not be part of standard equipment.
28. No warranties expressed or implied.
29. Available in fine stores everywhere.
30. Please book early to avoid rush.
31. Substantial penalties for early withdrawal.
32. Promotional pack, not for resale.
33. Tender exact change.
34. Allow four to six weeks for delivery.
35. No substitutions.
36. Other restrictions may apply.
37. Contents under pressure.
38. Do not puncture, incinerate, or store above 120 degrees Celsius.
39. Keep away from direct sunlight.
40. Avoid extreme temperature.
41. Store in a cool dry place.
42. Refrigerate after opening.
43. One size fits all.
44. No hand signal.
45. Hand washes only.
46. No salt, MSG, or artificial color added.
47. Artificial preservatives added.
48. Keep away from open flame.
49. Do not place near any magnetic source.
50. Avoid contact with eyes.
51. Wash, rinse, repeat.
52. Slippery when wet.
53. No Standing.
54. No Spitting.
55. Tested in laboratory.
56. Patent pending.
57. Shake well before use.
58. Apply only to affected area.
59. For external use only.
60. If ingested, do not induce vomiting.
61. User assumes all liabilities.
62. Not liable for damages due to misuse.
63. If a rash, redness, irritation, or swelling develops, discontinue use and consult your physician.
64. Think of the environment before printing this post.
65. This post solely reflects my personal thoughts and opinions. It does not reflect the thoughts or opinions of my dogs, my professors, my mobile, my college, my bed, my laptop and my kids (i.e. when I'll have one).
66. Copyright © TNMG 2009. No rights reserved.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Can you! Can you hear me?
Can you! Can you hear me?
I eat, I drink, I sleep, I dream.
But my soul is thirsty for you,
My heart - for love of thee;
Can you! Can you hear me?
The first rays of sun,
The first colors of life,
It's you – whom I see;
Can you! Can you hear me?
The first song of nature,
The first ode to love,
Tells the tale of thee;
Can you! Can you hear me?
The first Apple of Eden,
The Cheering Spirits of Joy,
Your eyes beat all Ecstasy;
Can you! Can you hear me?
The first fragrance of rain,
The drenched aroma of earth,
It's the time to break-free;
Can you! Can you hear me?
I eat, I drink, I sleep, I dream.
But my soul is thirsty for you,
My heart - for love of thee;
Can you! Can you hear me?
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Aate Jaate In Raaste Mein
Aate Jaate In Raaste Mein
Aate Jaate In Raaste Mein,
Musafir Jo Milte Hain;
Musafir Ki Dilon Mein,
Musafir Cha Jaate Hain.
Laut Ke Na Aate Hain,
Yaadein Saatate Hain,
Kaise Jiya Jaye, Mere Yaar Tu Bata!
Dil Ko Na Mere Yun, Mere Pyar Tu Saata.
Tanha Kiya Tune, Aansu Diya Tune,
Tune Hi Ruswa Kiya Hain.
Dil Se Mera Khela, (Ha) Pyar Ka Ye Khela,
Achha Ye Shikwa Diya Hain.
O Meri Jaani, Ye Teri Meherbani,
Aysa Jo Pyar Kiya Hain!
Ab Bhi Kya Shikwa Hai Baki?
Aate Jaate In Raaste Mein…

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Friday, March 16, 2012
Edison Kids Visit the Preserve
Friday March 16 was a perfect day for these students to take a field trip to Panorama Vista Preserve. Education Outreach Director Kathi Parks saw to it that stations were set up and manned so that students could learn about birds, spiders, planting trees, and art.
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One exciting piece in our upcoming issue of Electric Spec is an excerpt from the new urban fantasy novel Sentinel: Archive of Fire by our own Betsy Dornbusch. Not only is she a fab editor of spec fiction, but also an accomplished author in her own right. To learn more about this author and her exciting new book, we have an interview right here:
Tell us a little bit about your new novel.
The official back flap copy:
Twins Aidan and Kaelin didn't realize until they got to university that most guys don't learn five ways to kill a man by the age of fourteen. Still, since their estranged father descends from the demon Asmodai, it's probably worth knowing how to defend themselves. But as years pass and threat never materializes, the twins suppose their mom is just paranoid - until she disappears. Their father tells them Asmodai has taken possession of their mother in order to infiltrate Sentinel, a treacherous coalition of demidemon rebels determined to protect humankind from the demon legions. The twins form a grudging alliance with Sentinel to rescue her, but when Asmodai murders their father to incite war, Sentinel starts to implode and Aidan and Kaelin must battle an enemy who wears their mother's face.
Also, it's angsty, action-packed, torturous and filled with back-stabbing, especially from the good guys. Just what you would expect from a pack of demons.
What inspired you to write about demons?
I didn't know they were demons at first. I was writing urban fantasy a decade ago, before the genre really got off the ground; I just didn't have the skills to write it properly and get it out there until recently. As for demons: I like dark anti-heroes. I like characters having conflicting urges to do good and to also be very bad. Kaelin in particular is tortured with that. It's my feeling we live in an era when most people give into their urges to be very bad, and it's even revered (exhibit A: reality television). The alternative seems to be goody-goody folks. I was looking for something different. My demons have very strong urges to be bad, they all are very flawed, and yet compelling reasons to do the right thing.
Without giving too much away, can you tell us about one of your favorite scenes?
Each twin had odd dark moments and they don't land in the regular part of the book: For Aidan it's a torture scene that's not very late in the book but forces him to realize he might die in this war. It still makes me cringe. For Kaelin it's when he realizes he is destined to soldier for Sentinel. He has a knock-down drag-out with his dad.
Tell us about the process you used for creating this book.
Process is a generous word for how I wrote it. I wrote the entire series in full (badly and nearly a million words of it) starting a decade ago. After several rejections, getting a few other books under my belt, as well as short stories and editing and participating in the critique group, I rewrote it significantly on the advice of a couple of agents. It ended up 20k words lighter, got read by a ton of agents who didn't end up picking it up, and then Whiskey Creek bought it in three days.
What are your plans for promoting your novel?
Fortunately I have a publicist who's determined to get it into as many bookstores as possible, as well as readings and such. I'll be making tons of appearances and doing signings, hopefully in combination with other writers. I'll be at a bunch of regional cons and also at WorldCon in Chicago in August. Look me up. I'm also all over online, primarily at http://betsydornbusch.com , here at Electric Spec, and on Twitter, Google+, and Facebook under my own name.
I understand that this is the first book in a series. Any idea when the next one will come out?
There are four books planned. The second, Archive of Earth, is in revisions right now and unfortunately still requires a lot of work. I'm hopeful for next year. Not nearly soon enough for me! But I am writing two series and contemplating starting a third, so I'm kinda busy…
How has your experience writing and editing short stories impacted your novel writing?
If I have to say one thing short stories taught me it's "get to the damn point." Early and often is my motto for writing: get to the conflict early and often.
Do you have any tips for new authors who are trying to get their books published?
Well, obviously it's a brave new world out there and opportunities abound for writers. However, I think a lot of the old rules still apply, primarily that only a few people get "famous" for writing or even sell enough to live on. So my advice:
1. Stay open. One of my top earners this year was a short story I wrote under contract for an existing world. I also didn't sell my first book until I stepped outside my preferred genre.
2. Network. Online, in person, with your colleagues, and in professional organizations. Get out there, get your name out there, make contacts. The old adage that writing deals are done at the bar is still true. Socialize with your tribe and good things will come of it. Writers no longer have the luxury of sitting at their desks hiding.
3. My feeling is that it's never been more apparent that publishing is an entertainment business. You're the entertainer. Act like it!
4. My own mistakes aside, the days of writing one book a year are drawing to a close. Most successful writers are juggling several releases a year and backlist is how you start to earn. For new writers, it's essential to keep writing, keep moving forward, rather than rehashing/revising the same story over and over. In other words, don't do as I do! Don't sit on your book for five years, revising and fussing, before writing anything new and fresh. Sure. A lot of writers have to prove to themselves they can finish the book. But few hardly any ever type "the end". Just by finishing a draft, you've proved it. But sometimes true learning and moving forward in your craft takes writing a whole new book.
5. Ditto with making the mistake of thinking you should only self-publish, or only write in one genre, or only go with small publishers or waiting for the Big 6 or agent/no agent... The decisions are overwhelming. Again, most of the successful writers I know have done it all, from self-publishing to little pubs to big ones. Also don't misunderstand the value of free. Free is good for promotion purposes, in small doses. But don't give away your work unless you mean your writing to be a charity!


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This is part of Janet Rudolph's letter from the editor in Mystery Readers Journal today. That was so nice of her.
This column appears in the latest issue of MRJ: Volume 25: No. 2, Los Angeles Mysteries I.
by Janet A. Rudolph (Berkeley, California)
This is the first of two wonderful issues on Los Angeles mysteries. I know you'll learn a lot about new and older mystery authors who set their works in L.A., the "other" California city. We've tried to capture the essence of mysterious—and sometimes noir—L.A. in this issue and in the companion issue. Thanks to all the contributors. If you want to contribute to the next L.A. issue, let me know ASAP. Send an email to firstname.lastname@example.com, and I'll save some space.
Speaking of Los Angeles, LEFT COAST CRIME 2010 will be held in L.A. March 11–14, 2010, and I hope you plan to attend. Registration is open, and the committee is working on some great programming. There will also be an extra day added: Forensic Science Day. A must do! Guests of Honor: Jan Burke and Lee Child. Toastmaster: Bill Fitzhugh. Fan Guest of Honor: Me. So you understand why I'd like to see you there. Go here to register.
Mystery Readers Journal continues to increase readership, and I couldn't be more thrilled. I plan to have the Journal available as a downloadable PDF very soon as part of our efforts to go Green. I will send out an email letting you know how to do that. Rest assured though, if you'd still like to have the Journal in hardcopy, you will receive it. Past issues will also be available as downloadable PDFs at a nominal fee.
It's been an interesting spring with lots of wonderful new titles published. I just finished the new Peter Lovesey, George Dawes Green and Alexander McCall Smith. All three were terrific. And, those were only the ones I read last weekend. There are so many great blogs out there, too, with wonderful reviews. Case in point is Lesa Holstine's Lesa's Book Critiques. What an avid reader and terrific reviewer. I'm thrilled to announce that Lesa has joined Mystery Readers Journal as a reviewer. Her first reviews appear in this issue.
Monday, July 20, 2009
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- Back to Home »
- Kaji Yuuki , Kannou Jikan , Talk CD »
- Kannou Jikan 11〜Kuro Juuji no Useru Hi〜
{ 28 comments... read them below or Comment }
Yay! Thanks! <3ReplyDelete
Arigatou~ <333ReplyDelete
Ooooowww thank you so much!!!! I was waiting for this one so badly! I Love u so much for your sharing since a long time ago!!! OMG >.<ReplyDelete
- Anonymous4 August 2013 at 18:54
Um...I have a problem downloading from MF. The file is incomplete and when I tried re-downloading, the file is 0 bites Q_Q Can you upload to 4shared? Please and thank you! <333ReplyDeleteReplies
- Anonymous4 August 2013 at 21:21
Sharebeast please? (;___:)ReplyDeleteReplies
Is 4shared okay for you? Since SB in my town got really slow now, so I doubt I can finish upload this one on SB today.Delete
requesting 4shared because it set off my virus protection on firefox and chrome doesn't even let me download it at all because the IP is suspected to be malicious.ReplyDeleteReplies
- Anonymous4 August 2013 at 22:03
Thank you !!ReplyDelete
- Anonymous4 August 2013 at 23:22
aww yeah, thank youuu XDReplyDelete
I've been waiting for this XD
finally !! thanks <3ReplyDelete
thak you very much!I love Kaji Yuki.♡ReplyDelete
- Anonymous5 August 2013 at 00:46
Much obliged. m(__)mReplyDelete
Thank you! Kaji Yuki! XDReplyDelete
- Anonymous5 August 2013 at 05:03
4shared please (_ _)ReplyDelete
- Anonymous5 August 2013 at 20:25
oh my goooooooooooooooooooooooooooodd!!!!!!!!!!!!!ReplyDelete
thank you!!!very very very thank you!!!!!!!!
- Anonymous6 August 2013 at 01:50
Hello would you happen to know the artist who drew the cover?ReplyDeleteReplies
Nagaoka-san, I think.Delete
- Anonymous6 August 2013 at 03:51
the cd illust is soooooooo sexy kaji's voice is extreamly sexyyyyyy ahhhhh.....i love you so much rena!!!!!ReplyDelete
- Anonymous6 August 2013 at 04:32
Awesome! Both of you are lifesaver.ReplyDelete
Listen to the first track. They usually introduce themselves.
- Anonymous6 August 2013 at 04:34
Geh, I misunderstood Anon question.ReplyDelete
Hey thanks again for the upload :D
Thank you so much!ReplyDelete


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How to make homemade grease cleaner
There are so many cleaning jobs in the home that require a heavy duty cleaner. The sad part is, most of the degreasers are made with chemicals and toxic ingredients. Some of them include ammonia which can be painful to breathe in. If you've been trying to go all natural with your cleaners, you may be in need of a heavy duty natural cleaner that can get the job done just as effectively but with no toxic chemicals included. You're in luck because 101 Days Of Organization has shared with us a great recipe for a diy natural grease cleaner. There are absolutely no chemicals at all in this cleaner yet it is just as powerful as the chemical stuff. Plus, it smells way better too. You can use this degreaser on sticky countertops, grease covered cabinet doors, and of course in the greasiest place of all your stove and oven. You may even have all of the ingredients at home already too. Natural cleaners like white distilled vinegar, baking soda, and dish soap are things that everyone tends to have in their kitchen already. If you don't have these items already, they are very affordable to purchase at your local grocery store. Once you have these cleaners you'll be able to make so many different home made cleaning products including this one.
For this cleaner, you'll need some distilled water which will make your product better and it will make it last longer too. Then you need some Castile soap which is a popular alternative for other types of soap. It's very gentle and you don't need much of it to get the job done. It can cut through grease and grime so well, but it's also gentle enough to use on your skin. There are many types of Castile soap out there, but one of the most popular brands is Dr. Bronner's Castile Soap which you can get in several different scents like almond, rose, orange and tea tree. The Castile soap is what will help to break down the grease to bring you the deep clean you're looking for. The last thing to go into the cleaner is some orange essential oil. Since orange is a citrus fruit, it has all of the degreasing benefits you need. Citric acid is another well known natural cleaner that breaks down grease and even hard water deposits. You can also use lemon essential oil or a mixture of orange, lemon and grapefruit for a very nice citrus scent and even more cleaning power. could be used instead of orange. Just make sure that whenever you're using any essential oils that they are 100% therapeutic grade essential oils, so no artificial scents should be used.
When you have all of your ingredients ready to go, to a clean, empty spray bottle add one and three quarters of a cup of the distilled water, 2 tablespoons of the Castile soap in whatever scent you prefer or even unscented, and then 20 drops of your preferred citrus essential oil. Once the ingredients are all in your spray bottle, shake it up really good to mix everything together and your degreaser is ready to go. To use it, simply spray it wherever you need to and let it sit if you need some deep cleaning action. Then wipe clean with a damp cloth. The product works great and it will also make your house smell awesome every time you use it. You can make this degreaser and other home made cleaning products with your natural ingredients to make your home a chemical free zone.***
Learn MORE at 101 Days Of Organization
To help with slow website load, we have put all photos for this article here: View photo gallery.


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Check out these amazing women Sandals for spring / summer. These trendy sandals for women offers variety of stylish sandals in excellent range of colors and superb designs . Now the summers are around girls love to have such cool sandals and it looks really beautiful on girls and compliments the girls fashion. We will be your guide for this spring and summer season.
The old repeated wedges and stilleto styles have gone out of fashion now. Flat sandals are having a moment now. Get yourself this season's most comfortable sandal. This trend is being loved by everyone and we all couldn't be more happier. The pastel colours and bright designs have given a new touch to the flats. They can be worn anywhere and for any occasion. We have arranged this seasons's most trending sandals. These will give you enough ideas and knowledge about the latest trends. Therefore hurry up and get yourself the best picks of this year.
The only problem is that the designer launch so many new kind of styles every year, that it gets a little difficult to choose the style that would be a right one for you. You can spend some time to figure out the perfect sandal for yourself. Then only you will be able to pick up the sandal. For the March and April season you can get a pair of simple flip flop. They are the most cutest and trendy footwear to wear.
Be a little alert when you go for shopping for your sandals. Don't get anything in hurry. Try your best to look for the most comfortable one and make sure that they look good on you.
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Beads Sandals For Women


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My sweet babies....
I deal with adolescent children all day every day. I do know how to handle this. Please trust me.
3 comments:
- Roboseyo said...
Dear I'm No Picasso
[insult to writer goes here], after reading around, I see you are nothing but [derogatory term for women] who does nothing but [behavior that rapists use to justify rape] and [behavior that insinuates bad character which thereby is used by rapists to also justify rape... because it's ok to rape bad people donchaknow]. Why don't you take your [slur for feminists] views and [vulgar exhortation to remove them]. I hope [description of horrible thing] happens to you next time you [crass description of previously described 'bad character' behaviors].
Sincerely: NeanderTroll
Gee, isn't this fun.
- 11:38
- I'm no Picasso said...
See? Rob's got it all covered. No need to keep beating yourselves over the head scraping out these labored, original comments.
I am exicted to keep a watch on my Statcounter, and see how many times a day they continue to return, even when they know all comments will just be ignored and deleted. Because at this point they have no excuse left, other than the fact that they just can't stand *not* reading my blog.
- 11:43
- Roboseyo said...
just remembered: turned on moderation at 'seyo
- 12:04


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|Toby Omenihu has been in good form for Knights, having a
hand in 3 goals against Devonport last Round.
Northern Rangers v Burnie United 2.30pm – NTCA
A fair bit of difference between these two on the ladder, but Burnie have a good record over Rangers in recent times, and are never an easy game for the Launceston club. Rangers have a few players out of their back line with Luke Tuma injured and Tenzing Anderson overseas so their depth will tested in the defensive area this weekend. Marcus vanderharst comes in for his senior debut at right back and Sam Nugteren returns to the starting line up.
Player to watch – Agele Luate Northern Rangers.
Ulverstone v Prospect Knights 2:30pm – Ulverstone Showgrounds. MATCH OF THE ROUND
Ulverstone v Prospect Knights 2:30pm – Ulverstone Showgrounds. MATCH OF THE ROUND
Ulverstone have had the wood on Prospect now for 2 or 3 years, with the exception of a win the Knights had over Ulverstone last year, there will be a healthy respect from both sides and this should be a close and top notch fixture. Game of the round as both teams again need the win, and as is often the case, a draw will do no one any good, expect the two to go at each other for the full 90 minutes, though I expect a low score line with both teams having exceptional goal keepers in Ryan Keep for Ulverstone and Kris Beardwood for Knights.
Player to watch – Brayden Mann, Ulverstone
Devonport v Launceston United 2:30pm – Valley Road.
Devonport should have little trouble with Launceston, despite getting beaten last round by Knights. Again Devonport traditionally give Launceston a football lesson in this fixture, but the two are much more evenly matched this year, and a Launceston surprise is remote, but not out of the question. Kiren Mulraney is in great form in front of goal, scoring in every game of the season so far I believe for Devonport and Jesse Curran is an exciting young midfielder who is already having an outstanding year.
Player to watch – Jesse Curran, Devonport
Riverside v Somerset 2:30pm – Windsor Park
Riverside v Somerset 2:30pm – Windsor Park
Riverside will still be licking their wounds after their 8-0 drubbing to Rangers last round, but they will be equally eager to get back on the park and prove to everyone that it was nothing more than an off day at the races. The two match up pretty well for size and speed, though Riverside have more quality across the park, and with Somerset improving each week, this again should be a close game and worth getting down to watch.
Players to Watch – Mark Christie, Riverside, Chris Smith, Somerset.


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Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Cutest Deviled Eggs Ever
These cute deviled eggs are made by Mucho. Come on by Schmancy to pick one up or go online to Etsy. Look for pattern on our Etsy shop soon.
Posted by Schmancy at 5:38 PM
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Wednesday Reading
The Watcher of Weasels has posted this week's Watcher's Council compendium of blogospheric excellence. Read and enjoy; I've got another big Coastal Commission hearing today, so I may not be able to join you. Sigh.
See the results here Friday, and happy reading!
See the results here Friday, and happy reading!
Council links:
- Death and the Madam
Done With Mirrors
- Obama As Marley
Wolf Howling
- I Have a Nightmare
Soccer Dad
- Whither?
The Glittering Eye
- Al Gore Won Florida in 2000
The Colossus of Rhodey
- It's Too Late To Turn Back Now
Rhymes With Right
- Are You Ready To Be a Democrat?
Bookworm Room
- Fatal Energy Policies
Cheat Seeking Missiles
- Merit Pay Chronicles: A Teacher Speaks!
The Education Wonks
- Random Thoughts
Hillbilly White Trash
- Who Cares About Israel, Anyway?
- Party Like It's 1980 All Over Again
Right Wing Nut House
- If I Didn't Like Hillary Before... [UPDATED]
- Turning the Juggernaut Round
EU Referendum
- Another Gaza Media Moment
Confederate Yankee
- Iraqis Begin to 'Despise' the Mahdi Army in Baghdad's Rusafa District
The Long War Journal
- The Liberal Imagination of Frederick Douglass
The American Scholar
- Escape From A Brooklyn Mosque
Atlas Shrugs
- Israel's 60-Year Test
The Wall Street Journal
- Outlawing the Pig
- Paging John McCain: GOP House Leader Boehner Rips La Raza Earmark
Michelle Malkin
- Duly Noted: The Riflemen Aimed to Miss
The Brussels Journal
- Losing Our Spines to Save Our Necks
The Huffington Post
- Obama, the One Hit Wonder
American Thinker
- How Many Times Can the Shock Wear Off?
Classical Values
- Rough Time for the Left in the US
Labels: Watcher's Council


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Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Do the Caddyshack and the hole-in-one and don't let your macho get in the way
With the excitement surrounding "the new and improved" John Daly's return to the PGA Tour and the buzz encircling 2008 Rolex Rookie of the Year Yani Tseng's win at the Corning Classic with an upcoming second major try at the McDonalds LPGA Championship, golfers are getting out onto the course in droves attempting to mimic the shots of the professionals.
More often than not, amateurs are stepping to the back tees and seeing more of the golf course than need be, and this usually refers to the men! Does this sound like you, Mr. Macho? Whereas women, in my opinion, are inclined to play a game of accuracy, men have a tendency to ignore course and slope ratings in favor of the thrill of "tipping it out" with a similar level of ability as from a more forward position.
But, is it such a terrible affair to try your luck from the tips, not worrying so much about which teebox suits your skill level or will it help improve your game in the long run?
If your tee shots are shorter than your opponents, you may not be able to "drive for show" and you may be forced to use longer clubs on your approach to the green. The inability to outdrive your competitor may actually creep into your mental game, psyching you out and forcing you to question your ability.
Commenters on the Golf Channel's discussion boards agree that ego plays a large part in the game of golf. Problems that ensue include overswinging as well making bad course management decisions.
As one analogy stated, "If you were a beginner or intermediate skier would you ski down a double black diamond run? Unlikely.
Most recently I have been placed into the position of playing from the "whites" or men's tees (in many cases) and found that the game changes enormously as you step back. After several attempts of struggling with my long game and mainly woods, I moved forward to the ladies tees and the result was definitive! I actually found myself more self-assured, with my entire game cooperating from tee to green.
I can't hit a golf ball 295 yards just short of the green like Michelle Wie does so my ego is put on hold by keeping home plate at the senior tees!
This week, Golf for Beginners focuses on fun and easy golf exercises to improve core strength and flexibility so that, when you do get out to the course, you will be the Tiger on the tee!
Tweet this blog… Your followers will thank you!
Send your golf questions and comments to firstname.lastname@example.com.
Subscribe to our weekly podcast through this RSS feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/golfforbeginners or through iTunes. Click Here to receive our archived podcasts and 100's of easy golf tips free!
Get to know us on You Tube and MySpace and TWEET US on Twitter!
"Shiny Tech" courtesy of Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)"
This podcast is supported by GolfCalifornia.com, 1-866-351-1688.
Posted by Stacy Solomon at 5/27/2009 02:46:00 PM
Labels: blog, Caddyshack, golf, golf exercises, hole-in-one, John Daly, macho, sports, twitter
1 comment:
- Ged said...
I Loved this post! So I guess that shows my age. Although I haven't quite moved up to the seniors or the womens' tees, I certainly won't fool myself and think I should move back to the blues either. With the costs getting higher each year, I like to enjoy my round, not be constantly frustrated by adding even more distance to each hold.
mini golf games
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|Wage-Employment Contracts
Kahn, Charles M.; Green, Jerry
Note: Order does not necessarily reflect citation order of authors.
|Green, Jerry and Charles M. Kahn. 1983. Wage-employment contracts. Quarterly Journal of Economics 98, no. 3, Suppl.: 173-187.
|Full Text & Related Files:
green_wage.pdf (3.682Mb; PDF)
|This paper studies the efficient agreements about the dependence of workers' earnings on employment, when the employment level is controlled by firms. The firms' superior information about profitability conditions is responsible for this form of contract governance. Under plausible assumptions, such agreements will cause employment to diverge from efficiency as a byproduct of their attempt to mitigate risk. It is shown that, if leisure is a normal good and firms are risk-neutral, employment is always above the efficient level. Such a one-period implicit contracting model cannot, therefore, be used to "explain" unemployment as a rational byproduct of risk sharing between workers and a risk-neutral firm under conditions of asymmetric information.
|Published Version:
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|This article is made available under the terms and conditions applicable to Other Posted Material, as set forth at http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:dash.current.terms-of-use#LAA
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Although there is a feeling guiding me.
Although I know this is it.
Still a fear engulfs me.
Still a worry seeps through in.
Still a darkness unseen is hovering above
Still a voice a telling me, be careful!
To give in to the fear
Or to stand tall on what I feel
This situation is feeding onto me.
The strength to fight this fear
And the strength to stand my ground
Is asking my soul to be hollow
And all the feelings to go numb.
Will it really lead to a new beginning by the time this all ends?!


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The New York Times will offer several live broadcasts this week of the popular TimesTalks live at The Times Center in New York City.
On October 8, three of the city's celebrated 3- and 4-star chefs Daniel Boulud, Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Michael White will talk with Frank Bruni, New York Times Magazine writer and former Times restaurant critic, on getting to the top.
On October 8 and 9, the New York Food & Wine Festival comes to the Times Center with talks with some of the most recognizable names in food. Enjoy conversations with food icons such as Alton Brown, Paula Deen, Bobby Flay, Masaharu Morimoto and more live at


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N. Rungraeng, S.H. Yoon, W. Song, S. Jun
University of Hawaii at Manoa, US
Keywords: bacterial adhesion, Escherichia coli, nanocomposite coating, carbon nanotubes, titanium dioxide
Summary:Pathogenic microbes in biofilm matrix increase the potential of cross-contamination with processed food products, subsequently resulting in food borne disease outbreaks. Prevention of bacterial adhesion on food contact surfaces will have a massive impact in the formation of biofilm and contamination problem. Many recent studies have shown that both superhydrophobic and superhydrophilic coatings can minimize microbial adhesion on solid substrates; however, a comprehensive investigation of both extreme surface characteristics is not available. Therefore,the ultimate aim of this paper is to test and evaluate the rate of microbial adhesion on liquid transport system by comparing the effects of superhydrophobic and superhydrophilic surface coatings. The flow chamber was mounted with three different surfaces including uncoated stainless steel (control) plate, superhydrophobic and superhydrophilic coated plates. For adhesion experiments, the suspension of 3×10^8 cells/ml Escherichia coli K-12 was pumped through the chamber at two flow rates of 0 (stagnant) and 200 ml/min (wet surface). Increases in flow rate and hydrodynamic force significantly inhibited the bacterial adhesion on both developed surfaces. After running for an hour, the fluorescence intensities (FIs) of adhered bacteria on superhydrophobic and superhydrophilic surfaces were up to 80 and 65 percent lower than uncoated surface, depending upon the surface wetness.


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The Fart Girl Poem
hot girl, hot girl, a work of art;
hot girl, hot girl, why must you fart?
a beautiful flower you are, so much;
but what is this, this, dust you thrust?
so pretty, so sweet, so raunchy, so cheap;
so gentle and soft, you just belt it and scoff;
a rumble of the buns, then a laugh then a run;
drop bass, make haste; I think I can taste;
one kiss, quick, then float the biscuit;
the spark in your eyes, then fart and disguise;
blame him, blame her, blame them;
oh hot girl, you farter, you farter.
I think it's funny that the first poem that I've ever written turns out to be about hot girls farting. That is so me. And it goes to show why I'm not a poet. I can't write music lyrics, which is basically what I think poetry is. It took me days and several tries just to write this stupid one about hot girls farting, and it still amounted to very little -just mostly hot air (ba-da-dum!).
I am writing the piece just as an observation and commentary on modern life and modern people. And of the great many things that I've observed, one is that chicks are now open farters. Hey, don't get me wrong, this guy thinks it's great. I like pretty much any situation where women are doing things that traditional men have done or said that women shouldn't or couldn't do. That may be as big as hold a CEO position, be President, or be as small as talking, laughing with their mouths open or, in this case, farting. More power to you, girls. Fart on!
Ok, so a certain someone that is very close to me and also under the age of two, let's call her "Jane", likes to fart. I know she likes it because she laughs about it all the time. I do too. She farts, I laugh. I fart, I laugh. Childish? Absolutely. I am quite so, on many things. I've fallen into laugh attacks when people have dropped huge farts while using the urinal at the bathroom at my job. I think it's funny, what can I do. So Jane farts a lot. And it's because she is healthy. She eats a very balanced and nutritious diet loaded with fruits, vegetables, legumes, all balanced with some healthy fats, animal protein, and breads and cereals. She gets the occasional sugar too, through cinnamon cookies and yogurt. We are not monsters, after all.
So when Jane, who eats better than we do, farts, we think it's supposed to be like that. After all, she has the ideal diet. I asked myself if I was going to try to teach her that farting was wrong to do in front of people and that she should make an effort to hold it in or go to the bathroom to do it. That seemed wrong, though. I mean really, who does that? I bet a lot of people.
I asked my wife about it, and she quickly pointed out that it was not only more accepted to fart openly, but that her friends from work fart all the time. That's when things began to formulate in my mind. Fortunately, Jane is lucky to be blessed with looks. She is going to be a beautiful woman someday, and even though it hurts me to describe it so, she is going to be a hot girl. More than that, she is going to be a hot girl farting, and she is going to own it.


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Oregon Coast Kayaking
Activities: Fishing, Crabbing & Clamming, Kayaking, State Parks & National Lands
Owner John Schlesinger is an ACA certified instructor and has been giving tours and lessons for five years. John's sole goal is to deliver an exciting and safe kayaking experience for everyone who is willing. Private lessons/tours available as well as classes.
Lessons can be targeted from beginner to advanced intermediate. Lesson/Tour locations will be scheduled according to the experience of participants and Sea conditions. Preferred venues are the open sea when weather permits and the class level is suited for those conditions.
Participants need to have their own boat paddle, PFD. Helmets are recommended.


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PARIS — Dominique Strauss-Kahn's allies are hoping that new doubts about the New York chambermaid who accused of him of sexual assault can help revive his 2012 French presidential bid.
New York prosecutors have serious questions about the housekeeper's credibility and will seek a substantial reduction Friday in Strauss-Kahn's bail, a person familiar with the case said.
Many in France welcomed the surprising news — not only those who want to see Socialist Strauss-Kahn replace conservative Nicolas Sarkozy as president, but also many who feel the American media and public have unfairly assumed the 62-year-old Frenchman is guilty.
"Those who know Dominique Strauss-Kahn will not be surprised by this evolution of events," one of Strauss-Kahn's French lawyers and a friend for 40 years, Leon Lef Forster, told The Associated Press. "What he was accused of has no relation to his personality. It was something that was not credible."
Strauss-Kahn, the former head of the International Monetary Fund and a prominent member of France's Socialist Party, was considered a leading potential contender for next year's presidential election in France before he was charged with attempted rape in May. He denies the allegations.
His arrest upended French politics and appeared to dash his ambitions for France's top job. For months, polls had suggested that Strauss-Kahn would beat Sarkozy and enjoyed greater popularity than any other Socialist.
Sarkozy did not comment publicly Friday about the new legal developments in New York. The deadline for declaring candidacy in the French presidency is July 13.
French Socialist politician Michele Sabban said her party should put its presidential primary calendar on hold if Strauss-Kahn is exonerated.
"If Dominique Strauss-Kahn is cleared, I ask the Socialist Party to suspend the primary process," Sabban said Friday on i-tele television.
The chief of the Socialist Party, Martine Aubry, said the news brought her "immense joy."
"I hope that the American justice system establishes all the truth tonight and allows Dominique to get out of this nightmare," she told reporters.
Aubry announced this week that she will seek the Socialist nomination for president. She and Strauss-Kahn had been rumored to be discussing some kind of joint ticket for the election.
The prospect that Strauss-Kahn could be released was greeted with satisfaction in France in part because many here felt that the case had stained the country's reputation.
French viewers were shocked to see the man they thought might be their next president shackled and paraded before New York reporters. It's illegal in France to broadcast images of a suspect in handcuffs before a conviction.
Another Socialist, Jean-Marie Le Guen, said on France-Inter radio that Strauss-Kahn "will be present in the presidential campaign" and that "the political stakes are changed by this event."
"All those who dragged him in the mud are perhaps seeing things differently today, " he said on France-Info radio.
Le Guen was among many French people, both supporters and critics of Strauss-Kahn, who had claimed the IMF leader was the target of a political conspiracy to torpedo his presidential chances. Within days of his arrest, a poll suggested that a majority of French thought Strauss-Kahn was the victim of a plot.
Other French politicians and commentators urged caution Friday, noting that the case against Strauss-Kahn is ongoing and that it may be premature to jump to conclusions about France's presidential elections, held in two rounds next April in May.
Strauss-Kahn, who faces a court hearing in New York on Friday, has been under armed guard in a Manhattan town house after posting a total of $6 million in cash bail and bond.


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LOOKBOOK - Standing Right Next To Me
So here's what I wore on my #sisterswedding. I was one of the bridesmaids! We do not have enough time to design or look for a gown, so I came up with one easy solution. Maxi skirt! Woot!
And I'm proud to say that our trendy tops are both from The Chic Closet. HAHA! #annoyingiknow
The green skirt blends well with the beautiful scenery. Green everywhere! I also stole the flower girl's crown for that ethereal effect. Another fairy look, right? My fave.
What do you think?
Top and Maxi Skirt from The Chic Closet
Hype this on LOOKBOOK.
One day I'd feel like this.
Now I know love exists
Cause it's standing right next to me.
your sweetest drug,


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By ERIC HARTLEY -
Today, gay and lesbian couples - at least one joined by their child - came to Annapolis to tell their stories.
As the General Assembly considers legislation that would allow them to marry, I've profiled such families in columns.
In fairness, and out of simple curiosity, I wanted to hear from the other side. I might not agree with them, but I wanted to hear what they had to say and write about it.
Where were the regular families who'd be personally hurt by passage of a same-sex marriage bill?
Here's the thing: There aren't any.
The bill's impact on, say, David Hankey and Barry Kessler's family is clear.
The Arnold couple, who have a 10-year-old son and a 12-year-old daughter, would be allowed to marry and become a real family in the eyes of the state. So would thousands of other couples in Maryland.
But no heterosexual family would actually be hurt by the law that would help them. Was I missing something? I asked advocates to find me someone to explain.
The National Organization for Marriage has announced it will work to kill the Maryland bill. So I asked that organization's press contact for help. Surely she could find me some regular people who'd be impacted.
Her suggestion: a spokeswoman for the Maryland Catholic Conference. Hmm.
Not what I'm looking for, but could she find me some regular people?
She found me her executive director.
And that proved the point rather elegantly: They couldn't find any regular people because no one's life is actually affected negatively by this bill.
Oh, you can find people who'll tell you allowing gay couples to marry "redefines marriage" and thus somehow dilutes what is special about - all together now - the union of one man and one woman.
What you can't find is anyone to answer these questions:
How does it actually affect your heterosexual marriage if two men can marry tomorrow?
Does the fact a law is based on "tradition" always make it right?
A Maryland Catholic Conference news release says, "Stripping marriage of its unique connection to parenthood erases from law the right of a child to a mother and father, and ignores an essential question of why government favors marriage between one man and one woman over all other relationships."
I had a nice chat with the conference's executive director, Mary Ellen Russell, who patiently answered my questions and explained the position she planned to outline this afternoon to a state Senate committee.
What would be wrong about allowing gay couples to marry?
"Suddenly we'd be saying we are deliberately not recognizing the deep and abiding connection between biological parents and children," Russell said. "In law it erases that distinction."
Yes, and what?
It erases a currently existing distinction in the law between men who like women and men who like men. How does that stop a loving, straight couple from raising children in a happy home? It doesn't. It would add to the sum total of happiness in the world. It would mean more security for families. Isn't that, you know, Christian?
No one, to my knowledge, has proposed requiring anyone to marry someone of the same sex. No one has proposed replacing heterosexual marriage with gay marriage.
"All we're saying is there's a clear reason for recognizing this one relationship as unique," Russell said.
It must be unique because it's always been that way: circular logic.
And as for harming the institution of marriage? Well, Russell said "marriage is in a shambles in our society." So how would this make it worse?
"This is not a position motivated out of any kind of bigotry or hatred against anyone," Russell said.
Many people on her side of the issue, she said, have friends or relatives who are gay and love them, while still believing they shouldn't be allowed to marry.
They may be sincere. But they can't answer that simple question: How does it hurt you?
For more read Eric Hartley's "Arundel Outtakes" blog at www.hometownannapolis.com/blogs.


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Sunday, September 6, 2009
Bayan Knights - Digmaang Salinlahi: Worlds Collide
Promo artwork by A. Roy Canlas, Judd Abinuman, Franklin Ouano, Melvin Calingo, Elmer Damaso and Enjoykeso, tones by Jon Zamar
The Heroes of Bayan Knights will find themselves in the middle of war as they enter the world of Digmaang Salinlahi. Coming soon.
Labels: bayan knights, Comic Book, digmaang salinlahi, Fantasy, gilbert monsanto, jon zamar, superheroes
5 comments:
- Silver said...
anlufeet nun ah!
- September 7, 2009 at 10:03 PM
- DCel Echz said...
wow crossover!!
- September 8, 2009 at 5:10 AM
- Budjette said...
Promo art looks great!
Who will do the final art in the book?
- September 9, 2009 at 12:19 PM
- Jon Zamar said...
Sir Budj, There will be 3 chapters in one book illustrated by 3 artists. Will reveal the names of the illustrators once everything is definite.
- September 11, 2009 at 5:53 AM
- Ner P said...
love the promo pieces jon!!!
excited na ko!!!
- September 13, 2009 at 6:46 PM
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It's the end of January, and I've already broken or never picked up most of my New Year's resolutions. There is one, though, that I'm actually kind of enjoying. I was giving the kitchen a bit more than the usual once-over at the beginning of the year, giving the painted cupboards a rubdown with beeswax and making a halfhearted effort to organize the contents when it just came to me: I promised myself I'd either use the neglected kitchen tools and equipment I've collected over the years by this time next year — or give them away.
When I first got into cooking in my 20s, I'd haunt the kitchen stores wherever I traveled and carry home some treasure or other — a yellow ceramic mortar and pestle splashed with green, a cataplana (the hinged copper vessel the Portuguese use to steam shellfish), a hand-carved wooden corzetti stamp for pasta. At home, I picked up some fantastic finds at garage sales and flea markets. I patrolled the shelves of Williams-Sonoma in the days when it was great. I must have melon ballers in every shape and size ever made. Whenever I got an extra freelance check, I'd spend it on pots and pans and specialized tools.
I have a lot of cookware stuffed into a very small kitchen (at least by today's standards) — all useful, but not all used.
And so this year I resolved to get rid of redundant pots and pans, keeping only what's most useful and/or beautiful. I plan on retiring, at least, the giant, restaurant-sized All-Clad aluminum pots I bought at an irresistibly deep discount at least 20 years ago and break out only when I'm cooking for a huge crowd. Which isn't often.
Some things I don't use are just too beautiful to discard. I'm not giving up the gorgeous hand-hammered copper couscousière that, sadly, gets put to use only about once a year, or the cheerful blue his-and-hers Le Creuset moules pots for steamed mussels I once received as a gift. Or the giant white-glazed clay donabe steamer that sits proudly on a shelf, made by the Nagatani family of Japan, who have been making donabe from the special clay of their region for more than six generations.
So maybe I won't be giving away all that much stuff. But I will make the resolution to use the treasures I've stuffed into my very small kitchen.
It's funny how coming across the zigzagged pastry cutter that the late Lidia Alciati of Guido restaurant in Italy's Piedmont gave me inspires me to make tajarin or agnolotti again. And look, here's that metal blade with a wooden handle that I used to use to scrape away the flour and dough from the countertop when I made bread all the time. Here's the crooked wooden spoon a friend brought me from Pátzcuaro, Mexico, perfect for stirring a pot of beans. These tools bring back memories of friends and rollicking late-night dinners.
I admit I have too many coffee makers (not one of them electric). There's all my stove-top espresso pots with names like Principessa or Conehead. There's the Japanese glass siphon brewer that makes fabulous coffee but that I hardly ever use. It's a piece of theater for a dinner party — except, by the time my dinner parties end close to midnight, nobody wants coffee and I just don't stock decaf beans on principle. But here's a solution: I'll break that particular coffee performance out at brunch or lunch.
And that hand-cranked tomato press? I see a brilliant tomato season coming on: I'll keep it.
I haven't even been through all the drawers and cupboards yet. But just writing this list has shaken me out of habits, and my daydreams are filled with couscous, blinis, rustic terrines and even coddled eggs.
Follow me on Twitter at @sirenevirbilaCopyright © 2015, Los Angeles Times
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125 Albums That Should Be In Your Collection 10-15
|MATTHEW JAY - Draw
Aug 28, 2001
Its too bad Matthew died back in September 2003. I never did find out if it was suicide or murder, but I wish we woulda had a few more albums from this young lad from the UK..At least we have Draw to remember him by.
Matthew Jay - You're Always Going Too Soon
Matthew Jay - Become Yourself
Matthew Jay - Call My Name Out
Matthew Jay - Four Minute Rebellion
LEMONHEADS - Car Button Cloth
Oct 15, 1996
My favourite album by The Lemonheads..I find this album to be very fun and it always put me in a good mood..I especially like the album art and the song Hospital..
The Lemonheads - The Outdoor Type
The Lemonheads - Hospital
The Lemonheads - If I Could Talk I`d Tell You
The Lemonheads - C`mon Daddy
FOO FIGHTERS - Self Titled
Jul 4, 1995
Two things I love about this album...1- Dave Grohl plays every instrument on this album, which requires a lot of talent...2- For the most part I can`t understand a word he sings and I think that`s great...I used to know how to play this whole album on guitar..now I can only remember a few songs...this is still my favourite Foo`s disk by far.
Foo Fighters - Big Me
Foo Fighters - X-Static
Foo Fighters - Oh George
Foo Fighters - Exhausted
Foo Fighters - I`ll Stick Around
PLACEBO - Without You I`m Nothing
Nov 3, 1998
This is the album that got me started into Placebo.. I`ll admit I never herd of them before until I saw the movie Cruel Intentions. I love how the album is poppy yet has very sad lyrics...Its kind-of an oxymoron!
Placebo - You Dont Care About Us
Placebo - Every You, Every Me
Placebo - Brick Shithouse
Placebo - Pure Morning
Placebo - Allergic (To Thougts of Mother Earth)
THE TRAGICALLY HIP - Fully Completly
This is probably the number one anthem for high-way driving. All you have to do is get in your car and listen to tracks 1-12 and your guarenteed to have a good road trip. I`m always reminded of the highway whenever I hear this CD.
The Tragically Hip - Fully Completely
The Tragically Hip - Courage
The Tragically Hip - Locked In The Trunk Of A Car
The Tragically Hip - Looking For A Place To Happen
The Tragically Hip - Fifty Mission Cap


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|The most time consuming part no doubt! You think oh, 8 apples, this won't take long. Um, no.. Peeling and cutting into 1 inch chunks took a WHILE.
|Fawn putting the dough down.
|Laying out the filling
|Putting the dough strips down
|Brushing with egg yolk & heavy cream!
|Into the oven!
Since it's the beginning of fall I thought what better way to start the season then to bake a classic apple pie. It was my first, but I'm pretty proud of it! I felt the crust had too much salt, but everything else turned out great!
The recipe is here:


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On a fine late summer morning,
shall we run down through the meadow
where the asters are laughing beneath a cloudy September sky?
We will find hints of Autumn's approach,
over our heads,
and beneath our feet.
And if we dance for joy when we find an evening primose
blooming in the early morning light,
no one will care.
The flowers in this windswept meadow
have been known to dance along.
Before we head back to the house,
let us linger near a favorite tree.
Perhaps we will pluck an apple or two
to take back to those we love.
Where ever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you all the wild, sweet joys of September.
Looks like Steve took a stroll today, and shared it here: Out on the Prairie


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Announcement via Gateway Community College
Dear Colleagues,
I am pleased and proud to announce that our own Professor Franz Douskey's latest book, "West of Midnight: New and Selected Poems," has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize.
Two publishers nominated Douskey's book for a Pulitzer Prize in poetry, including his publisher, New York Quarterly Foundation, which publishes about 40 books a year and is directed by Raymond Hammond. Winners will be announced in the spring.
Some of his writing has been performed by Frederica Von Stade of the Metropolitan Opera Company, The Yale Glee Club and The Heaths. He also coordinates artistic events at GCC through the Esther Haseltine Schiavone Endowment Fund, which was established in 2006 through the Gateway Community College Foundation by Schiavone's daughter Jennifer Schiavone. Along with writing, Franz also produces radio shows for WQUN 1220 AM.
Please join us in congratulating Franz on this remarkable distinction.
Evelyn Gard
Director, Public Relations &Marketing
Gateway Community College
60 Sargent Drive
New Haven, CT 06511
(203) 285-2065
A long overdue collection, West of Midnight: New & Selected Poems, by Franz Douskey, places new works alongside pieces drawn from a decades-spanning career to illustrate the breadth of an influential and singular voice in poetry. Franz Douskey's insights are uniquely his, his voice direct and his imagination meteoric. Douskey has lived long and large. He has published in Rolling Stone, the Nation, The New York Quarterly, The New Yorker and Las Vegas Life. His readings and travels with such notables as James Dickey, Allen Ginsberg, Ai, Charles Bukowski, and F. D. Reeve are legendary. The poems are rich in wit, irreverence and a furious honesty. Everything is autobiographical. From intimate relationships, political quagmires, baseball and eroticism, Douskey wields an acerbic wit and a delicate command of tone to dive into the contradictions that make us human. From the haunted urban alleys of a turbulent childhood to his rhapsodic journeys through the nocturnal deserts of the Southwest, Douskey revels both in the absurdity of modern civilization and the heart-stopping beauty of the natural world.
—Robert Reinhardt
Also See Douskey's Chapter On El Bardo The Legend: