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Together, Sensei Alonzo D. Cheatham and his son, Sensei Alonzo T. Cheatham will demonstrate to you how to effectively take your attacker to the ground, disarm them from their knife, all while keeping yourself out of harm's way. APPROX 54 min
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Adriano Emperado, the founder of Kajukenbo walks you through the discipline accompanied by two of his students in this exceptional and historical DVD.
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Marc Fiore's professional coaching career highlights include coaching the US Army's World Class Athlete Program, winning numerous National Championships; the 2000 Army US Olympic Trials team; US Olympic wrestling coaching staff in 2000, and coaching


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Winch-Hunt: Part 16
- Winch-Hunt: Part 15
The centuries old lighthouse holds the secret of the ages, and Tom Winch must solve the mystery before it destroys him. You won't believe the twist!
From Part 15
"Here Mel. Check this out."
"What in the world are you thinking, Tom Winch? You can't possibly be entertaining the idea of making this get-up, are you?"
"No, you're the seamstress. Now listen Mel. I know sometime within the last 36 hours before the solstice, they'll take me, but we're taking a Christmas break – out of town. They'll have no idea where we are or what happened to us. The evening of the solstice I'll get into the lighthouse dressed in my Prif was y diafol costume. I'll crank up the sound in the Pit to Hell and appear. They'll think I'm the real chief servant of the devil. They'll do whatever I say."
"No Tom. It's too risky. I'm all in favor of a Christmas break though."
"Do you have any better ideas? What does your superior brain tell you?"
"We still have a few weeks before the solstice. Let's just think about this rationally and realistically. I do like the thought of a Christmas though.
"Now I have an appointment with Doctor Warren in the morning so don't plan to use the truck. I'll need it."
"What's this all about? What do you have to see the Doc for?"
"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a little hypotension; one shot and I'll be fine."
"What are you talking about? You can't cure hypotension with a shot."
"Doc Warren says you can.
"That's ridiculous. Mel, get a second opinion. Call a doctor in Cape Elizabeth. See what they say. Now how about some supper?"
There was a knock at the door. Tom stepped toward the door to open it. On the other side of the door stood a bloodied Jeff Hunt.
Tom blurted out, "What happened to you?"
"And may I say it's good to see you, too? What are you doing here?"
At the risk of sounding repetitious, Tom answered, "I live here, remember? Come on in. We'll get you cleaned up. Just keep your distance. Now, what happened?"
"I could ask you the same thing. I was playing Jeff PI this afternoon. I saw you go into the lighthouse – and those other guys. They came out, but you didn't. I went into the lighthouse to see if you were okay. You were missing in action, Bro."
"Knock off the 'Bro' stuff, Jeff. Those days are over!"
"I was leaving the lighthouse when those two guys jumped me. Tom, I just want you to know what kind of trouble you're in. They're going to kill you, and I'm probably next."
"Oh come on. You're the one that always forgets to turn the lights out and lock the doors. I heard those two talking about you. Really now, Jeff. Your story sounds so stupid. You're one of them."
Jeff returned home and soaked in a hot tub. It wasn't just his wounds he was soaking. His ego and his good intentions had been wounded as well, but an early start to bed would take care of that.
Startled by a rattling noise on his porch, Jeff was wide awake. Maybe they were coming back after him. He grabbed his Smith and Wesson and crept slowly and quietly toward the living room window. The curtain moved with the breeze. Taking his time, he carefully peeled back the curtain one inch at a time until he could see the intruder silhouetted in the haze of a distant street light.
Jeff headed for the back door. The quietness with which he moved surprised even him. Coming to the corner of the house, he ducked down coming up behind his assailant. Getting close enough, he jammed the barrel of his revolver in the back of the trespasser.
"Freeze!" He yelled. "Now, turn around very slowly – hands over your head."
Slowly the prowler turned to face Jeff. "Ronny, you could have gotten yourself killed!" Ronny motioned to go inside.
"Sit down, Bro. You okay?"
He handed Jeff a long hand written note detailing the sacrficial rites of the Bendith Diafol. "Wow, Bro. How'd you get this?"
On a separate sheet of paper Ronny scrawled out with his right hand, "Just listened to Doctor Warren and nurse talk. They tell the whole story." Ronny pointed out a paragraph. "Doctor Warren is planning to kill Melanie Winch."
"Yeah, with a shot; right Bro?" Ronny nodded affirmatively.
Ronny held Jeff's attention by looking hard into his eyes. With much conscious effort Ronny sought control of his speech. He spoke clearly. "Stop him! Stop him!" On the same separate sheet of paper he wrote, "I have to get back before the shift changes. Love you!"
Handing Ronny the piece of paper and a pen, Jeff asked, "How did you get here?"
Ronny began to scribble on the paper again. It became apparent that he stole the night shift security guard's bicycle.
"You what? . . . You stole his bicycle?"
Ronny shook his head signifying "No," then penned the word "borrowed".
"Oh, okay. You only borrowed his bike. Look, grab it and put it in the trunk. I'll drive you back. I have some things to do on the way over anyway."
It was nearly daylight as Jeff headed back from Shady Rest. The bruises from the night before were showing off in deep purple and he needed sleep – but first thing's first.
He needed to stop at the Winch residence. If Mel didn't have the sense not to go to Doctor Warren, Jeff would see to it that she couldn't. Parking down the street, he made his way slowly up to the Winch's driveway. Tom's unlocked truck was parked at the other end. Jeff lifted the hood , and methodically began to cut the battery cables. Closing the hood carefully, Jeff walked back down the street to his car; head held high, chest out, proud that he just saved a life.
Meanwhile inside the Winch house, Tom and Mel were preparing to greet another day. Tom wasn't responding well to the new light that was beginning to stream through the window. Eventually he settled into his morning routine of a shower, a shave, and breakfast with Mel. Mel, at Tom's request, dutifully called Doctor Warren's office to cancel her appointment. Then she called Doctor Jefferson in Cape Elizabeth to make an appointment for a second opinion.
She would have to wait three weeks to see the doctor. Rather than making a scene about it, she decided to put up with the discomfort and wait. Besides, she had plans to spend the day with Tom at the lighthouse. She was hoping to get her first glimpse of the inside.
"Mel, I'll meet you out at the truck," Tom yelled over his shoulder.
Tom came trampling back into the house. "Mel, someone cut the battery cables. We're not going anywhere right now."
"Who would have done that, Tom?"
"I don't know but here they are." Tom held up the cables, cut in half.
"I'll walk down to the store and get some new ones, and we'll get going – not going to let a little vandalism ruin our day, are we?"
The tide had receded, leaving behind a strip of wet sand. As they walked the beach, a famiilar imprint of a size 13 shoe appeared. The RB on the heel dug deep into the doused beach. Maybe Ronald Barry had been found at last. The footprints led up Sandy Hill, but finally faded away in the dry sand. Tom and Mel took their positions and waited . ..
. . . and waited. The morning was far spent and lunch was calling. Mel and Tom headed off to grab a quick lunch at The Pit Stop. Driving down Conway Boulevard, they passed an outdoor barbeque restaurant. The logo showed flames streaking high off a grill.
"Tom . . . the Barbie Q. Restaurant back there . . . we've driven past it hundreds of times. Have you ever noticed the logo?"
"Can't say that I have. Why?"
"Flames jumping off a grill. The Pit Stop – it's logo, the car sitting on a grill with flames coming from the tires. Do you think they could be connected in some way?"
"Could be, I suppose. You mean, the same owner? They serve a completely different menu."
"Maybe not the same owner. Maybe the same group of people."
"What are you getting at? You're not making sense."
"What if the Bedith Diafol owned them both? Think about it. Similar logos, but The Pit Stop. Maybe the Pit to Hell Stop. Maybe there's some symbolism there we should check into."
"Mel, sometimes you amaze me. Just let me eat my lunch first. Then we'll work on that thought."
As Mel and Tom entered The Pit Stop through the door, a giant of a man exited the dining area and headed for the kitchen. Tom thought to himself, "Could be a size 13 shoe. Could be Ronald Barry."
Mel and Tom headed for their favorite corner table. Amy, the waitress, was just steps behind. "Hi Tom, Mel. What'll you have?"
"Just bring us the usual, Amy. . . . Oh, uh, Amy, who's your new cook?"
"You know, he just started. I don't even know his name."
"Do you know what size shoe he wears?"
"No, uh, never mind. I was just thinking out loud – too loud. I'll let you know what kind of a cook he is though."
The Winch's hurried through lunch. Tom had another Sunday sermon that still needed some work, and his last minute preparation was getting the best of him.
Back home Tom tried to focus on his sermon, but the idea of the Pit to Hell Stop kept creeping into his mind. The Pit to Hell in the lighthouse was to stop – stop any resistance to the torture that was to come to the selected sacrifice.
The afternoon was wasted, and Tom left his study just in time to stop Mel from cooking supper. "Mel, get your things put away. We're going to The Barbie Q. for supper."
"What? Why? We have plenty to eat here."
"Yeah, I know, but I gotta see something. You know, that logo. After all it was your idea."
"No, it was your idea! I was getting ready to cook supper here. You're the one that stopped me."
"No, your idea about the Pit to Hell Stop – or is it the Pit Stop to Hell? Anyway, we have to check it out. Come on!"
The long outdoor grill was smoking. The smell triggered Tom's salivary glands as they were led to a table across the stone patio. Unlike The Pit Stop,Tom knew the Barbie Q. would be closing soon for the season. All the cooking was done over an open fire outdoors. A long, green awning overshadowed the eight foot grill. Even in rain the dining continued inside, although the food was always prepared over the open flame under the awning.
The Barbie Q. had already been open longer than usual. The fall quickly was turning to winter. Even on this evening, coats were a necessity.
Tom ordered a juicy prime sirloin and a tossed salad. Mel ordered a grilled chicken breast with mashed potatoes and corn. Only the meats were prepared outdoors. Everything else came from the little kitchen inside the main building.
Tom just happened to look up. The same giant of a man that he saw working at The Pit Stop handed the waitress some cups filled with ice. Then he quickly disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Mel! Did you see that guy? He's the same one that was working over at The Pit Stop. Maybe there's a bigger connection than we realized. Here comes our food. It's time to ask questions."
"Here you go, sir. Would you like to cut into your steak and see if it's okay?"
"It looks delicious. Say, uh, that rather large man in the kitchen – his name wouldn't happen to be Ronald Barry, would it?"
"Well, to be honest with you . . ."
"Yes, please be."
"I don't know his name. This is his first night."
"Well, do you think you could find out for me? I'll see that it's reflected in your tip."
"Sure, who shall I say wants to know?"
"Look, just leave me out of this. Just befriend him as the new kid on the block. Then let me know."
"And, it's reflected in my tip?"
The waitress turned and left for the kitchen. Tom could see her approach the man. Within minutes she returned with the information.
"He said his name is Richard Banks. Mean anything to you?"
"You think I can believe him?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
"I don't know. Right now the only name that means something is Ronald Barry. Sound familiar at all?"
"Nope. Hope you enjoy your meal."
Mel struggled with the idea of telling Tom that Ronald Barry had been found. In the long run it might help Tom. But in the short run, if he knew she had been talking to Jeff, it would cause more problems than it was worth. This wasn't the time. Tom placed a twenty dollar bill under his plate and left.
"Mel, I think we need to tail this guy – see what he's up to. I think we've found Ronald Barry. Maybe just to be nice, I'll let Jeff know – not that I owe him or anything."
"I don't think so," Mel slurred, still struggling with the choice to tell Tom about Jeff finding his brother.
"What do you mean? This could break the case."
"No it couldn't, Tom. Jeff might have found his brother, but you're still on the menu at the Solstice. Nothing will change that. I better get to work on your . . . what is it? . . . your prif was y diafol outfit."
"Thanks Mel. It will be the 21st before we know it."
"You're not serious about that silly costume, are you?"
"Of course I am. It's the perfect plan. There will be a showdown between the fake prif was y diafol and the real one – me!" They'll be so scared. They'll have no idea what's going on."
"Tom, you're the real one? I don't think so, and I don't think it's anything to play around with. Calling yourself a real servant of the devil? I thought you were a real servant of Jesus Christ."
"I know. I know. I didn't mean it that way. I just meant . . ."
"I know what you meant. I still don't feel comfortable with it. Isn't there another way?"
"Not that I know of. Never mind. I'll take the costume into town tomorrow and have the seamstress work on it. It'll save you the aggravation and the time."
"Impossible, Tom! If you can't trust Jeff, you surely can't trust the seamstress. You don't even know her. I'll do it – but like I said, I still don't feel comfortable."
The dim glare of blue light fell on Tom's face from across the hall. He rolled over and covered his head with a pillow. Then he reached over for Mel, but she was gone. He jumped up and checked the time on the alarm clock – 2:38 a.m.
Awakened by her disappearance, he ran out of the bedroom and down the hall. The blue light came from Tom's study, the last room before the stairs. He quietly began to crawl on all fours toward the room. As he edged up to the open doorway, he was startled.
© 2016 William Kovacic
I see you have added a new Character. Richard Banks.... I'm hoping he gets thrown off the the Light House? LOL!
I think Mel is pregnant. We'll see.
Off to read 17
This story is exceptionally good, and all along you have found some very good pictures to to accompany it. Great work!
Can I make one little suggestion though? I think it would help to add to your title, for example: "Winch Hunt: Part 15 - Something about Ronald Barry" (not those words exactly, just to illustrate what I mean). There will be something different in every title which will help readers find what they're looking for if they want to go back and re-read. Just a thought!
Oh no! What a way to leave me! lol Hope to catch it as soon as you get the next one up! Sharing them all.

subset: commoncrawl


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A massive thank you to everybody that either participated in or assisted us in the running of Sports day 2018. The weather was gorgeous, everyone was having fun and the competitive rivalry we witnessed from the Houses was a joy to see.
Congratulations to overall Champions Sefholme who won the trophy for a third year running allowing Mrs Stanforth to sign off in style.
Year 7 Champions - Team Hedoncrofte
Year 8 Champions - Team Hedoncrofte
Year 9 Champions - Team Sefholme
Year 10 Champions - Team Sefholme
Spirit of Sports Day - Team Sudtone
A huge thanks to Team PE - brilliantly organised and something for everyone to have a go at. Bring on Sports Day 2019!


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Peace of Mind is Within Reach
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Employment & Labour Relations
The Firm's employment law practice provides our Clients with well informed and confidential advice on the full range of employment issues.
The Firm works with its clients from a wide range of industry sectors and can assist not only global business but medium and smaller enterprises to tackle local, international and cross-border employment issues. We use our experience and resources to keep our Clients up to date on developments in employment law and what they mean in practice for their businesses.
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"You are a taxpayer-funded spokesman of the United States government; can you at least give us an explanation as to why the cameras are off?"
That was the question from CNN White House reporter Jim Acosta on Monday, at yet another off-camera press briefing held by White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer.
Spicer, unsurprisingly, didn't really have an answer.
The Trump White House has taken to rarely holding on-camera press briefings, a move that many (including Acosta) see as an attack on press freedom.
As the pair sparred on Monday, as they have before, Spicer implied that Acosta was only asking the question to build his celebrity. "There's no cameras on, Jim," Spicer said, as if Acosta didn't know.
Spicer didn't answer why the administration doesn't want reporters to turn the cameras on, and now several journalists are asking why those behind the cameras don't simply ignore the White House's wishes.
What, exactly, happens if someone (or if they all) turn their cameras toward Spicer and begin recording?
If tv reporters at the WH care so damn much, could they please just hit the button next to the red light that says "ON"
— Asawin Suebsaeng (@swin24) June 26, 2017
just turn the cameras on, guys
— Wesley Lowery (@WesleyLowery) June 26, 2017
Seriously, turn on the fucking cameras, you fucking cowards, this is the darkness democracy dies in.
— Eliot Higgins (@EliotHiggins) June 26, 2017
So far, the White House has held just four on-camera press briefings this month.


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In Memory of +Father Basil
The Divine Liturgy Schedule
The Divine Liturgy
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Saturday, 10. July 2004 23:56 -0400


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Father Simon Lokodo, so I understand, is minister of ethics and integrity and hazarding a snippet at what his job description entails, "something to do with society and behaviour?"
I think.
I think.
Anyway, he has beef with we in the media for – Abanooya on Bukedde TV and Blind Date on NTV – which he states, "promote prostitution." Hmm!
What about Senga who teaches Bride-To-Be about sex and how to please? Will he send the moral police to raid hen parties and have Senga, Bride-To-Be and Girlfie's arrested and paraded at the Media Centre as the unacceptable faces of decadent women?
Sticking on the Senga trail, I hear her lectures are quite risqué - risqué enough to burst open the pimples that still linger on the faces of the Namagunga and Gayaza girls from their school days. Though Senga concentrates on what women need to do for men, I think there is a need to send her abroad to catch a lecture or two by US and UK Senga on what woman needs to do for herself.
Nicole Daedone is the UK Senga behind orgasmic meditation (OM). In 2001, she launched OneTaste and today she has a worldwide following of just over two million. OM so Senga Daedone says is a 'mindfulness practice that involves stroking the upper left-hand quadrant of the clitoris for 15 minutes without interruption'.
Writing in the London Evening Standard early this month, journalist Anne-Celine Jaeger, who attended an OM seminar said: "I'm staring down the barrel of a gun. This however, is not a fashion show and the gun is a vagina spread out before us like a lotus flower. The well groomed vajayay belongs to Claudia, who along with Marc, is about to demonstrate OM. Marc begins by 'safeporting' – touching her thighs and moving his fingers to the hotspot where he starts shredding (guitar speak). I like that, mbu shredding. Think about it.
So, what sort of people, go to Senga Daedone's OM seminars? "It's not perverts" says Jaeger. The seminars are not held in backstreet dingy hotels while looking at the emergency exits in case of a moral police raid. "Everybody was there from mid-twentysomething couples to divorcees in their fifties to young mothers." In other words, Namagunga and Gayaza girls would fit in.
Senga Daedone's lectures are not about sexual gratification. People sign up for different reasons from 'yearning to truly connect to others' or as one attendee bluntly put it: "I came to reconnect with my 'young cat". I couldn't use the given word that is used when referring to a young cat because it would floor Father Lokodo, you understand?
What women get out of OM is a starting point that rises, comes down, goes up again and has no agenda and cultivates energy. It's here, it's there, it's everywhere and the end is a symphony of highs, a confluence of individuals so harmonious, so in tune like Berlin's philharmonic orchestra is. There is nothing phonographic about it. It's like poetry, touching someone's soul along with an increase of overall vitality, energy, libido and a reduction of stress.
Jeez! Why can't women be like us men? All we men want is to be simplistic and focus our linear goal-orientated mission of sending '40 million+ swimmers' up a canal with no highs of Moses Matovu on sax and the rest Afrigo Band belting out Jim, and having a serious crash once the mission is over.
Now you see why, Senga, Namagunga and Gayaza Girl need to pack their bags and get themselves to Park Crescent Conference Centre in London to connect with their 'cats'? And we would be cool with it.
Am sure we would.
Seeing men can attend, Father Lokodo might want to tag along and see for himself in case he decides to ban the seminars before they hit dusty streets of Kampala, Bushenyi and beyond.
NOTE: Sunday Vision censor board found this article too risque for publication


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11. The Struggle Is Real
This past week I started a new career opportunity in upstate New York. It's only been the first week and I can already tell that I'm headed in the right direction. While the opportunity is amazing for my career & overall future, it has me facing a few challenges as well.
For one, my commute time has doubled, my responsibilities have increased and my downtime has decreased.
I'm sure you can relate in a similar situation. Maybe you, too, have started a new job, or maybe you just had a baby or got into a new relationship.
Any of these things could easily cause a shift in the way you were living previous to the change. It's totally normal!
This week on the show I'm discussing how I'm dealing with the change, my struggles & challenges & how I'm choosing to see the sacrifices I'm making on my path now.
This show is great for anyone who has recently had a big or small shift in their path or is needing some motivation to change their perspective on their current circumstances.
Click below to tune in!


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legal resources necessary to hold negligent facilities accountable.
Reading Nursing Home Neglect & Pressure Ulcer
The Reading nursing home abuse attorneys of Nursing Home Law Center LLC are committed to the pursuit of justice on behalf of the many nursing neglect victims who suffer needlessly because of the inability of understaffed facilities to deliver the care they promise. Pressure ulcers are notoriously easy to prevent and treat, making the current epidemic of pressure sores an atrocity. If your loved one has suffered due to neglect in a Reading, PA nursing facility, we invite you to share the details of your case with us so that we can help you recover the compensation due to you for the payment of your loved one's medical care and the suffering he or she has endured.Reading Senior Demographics
Reading's population of 88,000 makes it the fifth largest city in the state. Minorities outnumber whites in this economically and culturally diverse city and seniors comprise over 9.3% of the population. With many residents over the age of 50, this portion of the population is destined to become more prominent in the future.
The Berks County Area on Aging operates senior centers throughout the entire county which provide recreational and educational programs to those who are trying to remain active and healthy. Residents can also take advantage of transportation assistance and nutrition programs offered through their local senior center. The Reading facility is located at 40 N. 9th Street and you can call (610) 374-3195 or visit http://www.berksencore.org/ to learn more about the functions and services being offered.Medicare Data Paints a Disturbing Picture Regarding Reading Area Nursing Centers
Of the 30 nursing homes serving Reading, only 12 have received a perfect rating by Medicare, which means there is a prevalence of health and safety deficiencies and other nursing care issues for families to worry about when admitting a loved one into the care of an assisted living community. Our Reading pressure sore lawyers suggest that you use the Medicare nursing home compare tool to identify the nursing centers most worthy of caring for the people you care about.
The tool provides critical information regarding each home's history of penalties, staff quality and health inspection reports. It also allows you to compare multiple homes side by side to determine which one is most appropriate based on your loved one's needs. To use this tool, you can visit Medicare's website at https://www.medicare.gov/nursinghomecompare.Promoting Change Requires Making a Stand against Reading Nursing Facilities that Disregard Patient Needs in Favor of Profit
While there are occasional exceptions to the rule, the majority of pressure ulcers can be prevented by ensuring the patients at risk of developing them are turned regularly and monitored for signs of sores near areas where they commonly form. Unfortunately, some nursing homes are so understaffed that caregivers are unable to take the small amount of time required to care for these patients' needs. The prime motivation for keeping staff levels at such crippling levels is always the reduction of overhead and maximization of profit.
Patients suffering from an advanced bedsore are in excruciating pain and the sores often become infected, which poses a serious risk to their lives. It is simply unacceptable for anyone to be allowed to reach this point and the only way to promote change is to send a strong message to the industry as a whole by ensuring that every nursing center guilty of abusing or neglecting its patients is made to suffer severe consequences.Our Reading Pressure Sore Lawyers Are Prepared to Fight for You
Nursing Home Law Center LLC is committed to prosecuting cases against nursing centers that fail to deliver the most basic of care to the people depending on them. If your loved one has suffered due to a pressure ulcer, contact us today to arrange a free case review with one of our award-winning Reading bedsore injury attorneys. Together we can ensure that your loved one receives the compensation needed to pay for his or her medical expenses and to account for the suffering he or she has endured.
Should you have questions about Pennsylvania law related to pressure sores or nursing home care, view our page here.Nursing Home Abuse & Neglect Resources
If you are looking for an attorney to assist with the investigation or prosecution of a Reading nursing home abuse case involving bed sores or other injury visit the pages below:
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Northern Ireland Paranormal SocietyThe main aim of the group is to investigate all reports of alleged paranormal occurences, taking a balanced and fresh approach in each case. The group also spend time debunking claims of the paranormal, where after exhausting all possibilities no supporting evidence can be found, or indeed where evidence to the contrary is uncovered.
After Sundown Paranormal Group
a very informative and well put together site.
Spirits and Ghosts
Visit Spirits and Ghosts.net a very informative site with a data base of groups to help you find a group close to you.http://www.spiritsandghosts.net
Fancy a ghost tour of Crumlin Road Jail contact firstname.lastname@example.com or through the link below..
For the believer no proof is necessary, for the non-believer no proof is
possible (Stewart Chase 1929)


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Find contact information of Motor City Community Credit Union: official web-site, address, phone numbers, products, reviews about bank
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Being locally owned and operated means that all decisions are made right here, from approving a loan to introducing a new product or service. Motor City also benefits from being a part of a national system of credit unions that work co-operatively on the national, provincial and local level to guide members in achieving financial well-being. Motor City's Financial Services Representatives can help you get there. Co-operative banking the credit union way sets us apart.
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By Poincare H.
Read or Download Theorie du potentiel Newtonien PDF
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Calculus II For Dummies (2nd Edition)
An easy-to-understand primer on complex calculus topics
Calculus II is a prerequisite for plenty of renowned university majors, together with pre-med, engineering, and physics. Calculus II For Dummies bargains professional guideline, suggestion, and how you can aid moment semester calculus scholars get a deal with at the topic and ace their exams.
It covers intermediate calculus issues in undeniable English, that includes in-depth assurance of integration, together with substitution, integration suggestions and while to take advantage of them, approximate integration, and unsuitable integrals. This hands-on consultant additionally covers sequences and sequence, with introductions to multivariable calculus, differential equations, and numerical research. better of all, it comprises sensible routines designed to simplify and improve realizing of this complicated subject.
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Extra info for Theorie du potentiel Newtonien
Example text
J. Coates, R. Greenberg, Kummer theory for abelian varieties over local fields, Invent. Math. 124 (1996), 129-174. J. Coates, S. Howson, Euler characteristics and elliptic curves, Proc. Nat. Acad. Sci. USA 94 (1997), 11115-11117. J. Coates, S. Howson, Euler characteristics and elliptic curves 11, in preparation. J. Coates, R. Sujatha, Galois cohomology of elliptic curves, Lecture Notes at the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research, Bombay (to appear). J. Coates, R. Sujatha, Iwasawa theory of elliptic curves, to appear in Proc.
The ideal (f (T)) of A is called a= 1 the "characteristic ideal" of X. Then it turns out that the X and p occurring in Iwasawa's theorem are given by X = X(f), p = p(f). , or f,(T) is an associate of a monic polynomial of degree X(f,), irreducible over $, and "distinguished" (which means that the nonleading coefficients are in pZp), as a group. in which case p(f,) = 0 and A/(f,(T)a*) is isomorphic to Then, X = Ca,X(fi), p = Ca,p(f,). The invariant X can be described more simply as X = rankzp(X/Xmp-tors),where XzP-to,, is the torsion subgroup of X.
Thus, if we let rv= Gal((F,)q/F,), then it follows that as n -+ oo corankzp(HI ((F,)~, ~ ) )= ~ pn[Fv f : Q,] + O(1). Iwasawa theory for elliptic curves Ralph Greenberg 68 The structure theory of A-modules then implies that H1((F,),, C) has corank equal to [F, : $,I as a Z,[[r,]]-module. Assume that $ is unramified and that the maximal unrarnified extension of F, contains no p t h roots of unity. (If the ramification index e, for v over p is 5 p - 2, then this will be true. ) Then by (2) we see that H1(F,, C) is divisible.


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Picture a big pipeline. Now picture it filled with money flying at you under high pressure. The largest mechanical contractors interviewed for this year's Book of Giants feature conveyed a little bit of bad news — who knew that low energy prices could be a bad thing? But there's lots more good news.
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A deeply underrated horror that looks at the twisted dynamic that emerges between an astronomer and her psychotic sister when they live in the large house they inherited.
A wildly compelling horror film that looks at the intense and unusual relationship between a psychotic woman and her sister living together. One of only three films directed by Karen Arthur, it's an intense close-up on an co-dependent and toxic relationship of enablement.
Astronomer Ellen (Lee Grant) lives with her feral-like sister Cissy (Carol Kane) in the crumbling mansion they've inherited from their late anthropologist father, complete with a large cage in the middle of the living room, where Cissy keeps her pet 'mafus' (monkeys). Cissy lives in a bubble of her own creation, and reacts aggressively to any attempt to alter her world. Ellen, who's been taking care of her since their father passed, tries to edge her into adjusting to normal society. When Ellen starts seeing a co-worker, Cissy feels threatened and the suitor finds him in the centre of a violent retribution.
The Final Girls present Unholy Women, a season of films with mould-breaking women that challenge notions of femininity, control and hysteria.


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Make a difference in your future, the future of ADUs, and helping solve the affordable housing crisis.
We offer exceptional work opportunities, career development possibilities, competitive pay and benefits, and an environment that recognizes and balances personal and work needs.
We currently do not have any full-time job openings.
However, if you are interested in getting involved in the ADU industry please check out our Partnering opportunities.


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Striker Paddy Madden wants to hear the unwavering support of the Cod Army when Joey Barton's first season as Fleetwood Town boss starts at home to AFC Wimbledon on August 4.
READ MORE: Fleetwood Town's full fixtures
And Stuart Murdock, the last manager of the old Wimbledon and the first boss of MK Dons, was this week helping Barton to assess young players in his role as Town's head of player pathways as pre-season training got under way.
Madden is looking forward to playing in front of the Cod Army again and he thanked them for sticking with the team during a difficult campaign.
The hitman, who arrived in January from Scunthorpe and saw Town slide into a relegation battle, said: "I'm just looking forward to their support, as always.
"The supporters were great last year, helping to get us safe.
"Since I came in they have always been behind us. Last year they could have made it difficult for us and got on our backs but, credit to them, they didn't.
"It is onwards together, so we are going to need them as much as possible again."
One of the fixtures Madden kept an eye out for was Scunthorpe away and the Irishman won't have to wait long for his August 21 return to Glanford Park, where he became a fan favourite in a four-year spell.
Madden last played there under Graham Alexander in a Checkatrade Trophy defeat to Leicester U21s last December.
He said: "Obviously it will be different going to play at Scunthorpe as a visiting player. I played for so many years at Scunny."
Before then, Fleetwood have a jam-packed pre-season schedule, though the friendlies will all be away as work on the pitch was delayed until after Alfie Boe's homecoming concert at the ground three weeks ago.
They first visit Alexander and ex-Town skipper Nathan Pond's new club Salford City on Friday, July 6.
Alexander had been Fleetwood's boss before moving on to Scunthorpe and Madden says all the connections add interest to Barton's first match in charge.
He added: "Obviously a couple of our boys have gone there in Pondy and (goalkeeper) Chris Neal. It should be a tasty fixture to start us off and it's a game we are looking forward too."
Town then head to Hungary for a week-long tour, including two matches against opponents as yet unnamed, before returning to face Micky Mellon's Tranmere (July 21), Morecambe (28) and Chorley (30).


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Getting the invitation to Ruffian this year was one of those unexpected surprises that just make me smile. I loved the chance to watch designers Brian Wolk and Claude Morais in action.
The designing duo spent quite a bit of time in Saratoga Springs, which inspired a love of all things jockeys and horse racing. With makeup and hair inspired by a mixture of influences that go along with legendary movie and photography references (eyebrows from Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet, images taken of Jacqueline De Ribes by Richard Avedon,) the models came strutting down the runway to a very literal interpretation of the jockey theme, with racing striped jackets cut to fit over other trim separates. Swimwear was also shown and there was a gorgeous yellow gown with an injection of cobalt blue, a continuation of the theme and well executed.
For me, as a fan of the cut of Ruffian's clothing, I enjoyed the collection but wonder if it might be a little TOO literal when it comes to the selection of the theme. I like the concept of mixing a few of these racing-inspired jackets with a party dress for evening or with black leather shorts but I'm not sure the rest of the pieces would be too friendly to women with curves or would work into an existing wardrobe as well as with other pieces in the collection. My picks from the collection would be the gorgeous yellow evening gown and this gorgeous striped jacket. While it was fun for theatrics sake, the theme might have been a bit too literal for me this time.


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Chop 'Til You Drop
Do I believe there will be a robopocalypse? I'm not sure, but I do believe war might start to resemble a very expensive game of Risk. As you read this and consider your options for what to smoke or watch or eat, there are autonomous weapons all ready to be put into production (if not already produced and sitting in a secret military warehouse). Don't take my word for it. Go seek out Robert H. Latiff and read or listen to his book Army of None.
We've been talking about the rise of the machines since Arnold Schwarzenegger let us know he was going to be coming back. Far less buff than the Terminator, these mall robots had a similar job, but lacked the opportunity for sexy, time travel being from 1986 and not the future. Don't judge them for protecting the capitalist temple of the mall. That just what they do. That's all they do.


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Wool paintings from community workshop with Marcy/
Arts Council of Tamworth is supported in part by a grant from the New Hampshire State Council on the Arts & the National Endowment for the Arts. Enormous thanks to our residency sponsors Meadow Pond Animal Hospital and Settlers' Crossing for funding creative activities open to every member of this community, to the Gibson/Woodbury Foundation for their generous materials grant, and to the Tamworth PTA.
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End of the Line (PRIVATE, ONE-SHOT)
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End of the Line (PRIVATE, ONE-SHOT)
*In A Past Life*
-Throne Room, Floor 12-
Sir, Castle Defense Integrity at 41%
Dammit IAGIS, fight back! For once, the Steward of Castle Oblivion was less pissed at his automated system IAGIS, who had assisted him in controlling and running his Castle, as he was at the situation himself and all his citizens had been placed in.
I'm sorry Sir, primary Retaliation is not fully charged yet. 75% of Castle power has been rerouted to it, but main subroutines must be left running for.. The ceiling of the 13th floor where Castle Oblivion's throne resided began to crack, interrupting IAGIS as he spoke. Castle Defense Integrity: 27%
Steward Felonix shifted his attention to his earpiece, a digital construct he had created for communication throughout the Castle thanks to the technology given to him in a trade with Azmot. Anse, do we have a lock on this asshole? An identity? Anything? A trembling yet confident voice responded back to him.
Nothing Sir.. No biometric scans, no identification in our servers, not even a chain of memory we can break as a final attempt.
Is it Onyx?
It doesn't appear so Sir. Even if he were to change or come back in a different form, we've made necessary precautions to detect him nonetheless.
Steward Felonix slammed his fist into his desk out of frustration. He was indeed a Nobody, meaning all of this was mostly for show. He found, however, in appealing to be more human to his Citizens, some of the habits of having a heart were harder to break. He found that in his attempt to protect, train and guide the Citizens of Castle Oblivion, he found himself 'caring' for them in a manner. As a Nobody, he had no true feeling towards them. For some reason though, he knew that he could let no harm come to them. This new attacker though threatened everything he had built up to keep his Citizens and his Castle safe. Another explosion outside the Castle, but this seemed a bit lower than the last one, which was presumed to be a direct strike at the 13th Floor.
Castle Defense Integrity: 9%. Sir, one more blow, and the attackers will be inside the Castle. A moment's pause, then concern from the pseudo-British information system. Sir.. What should I do? For once, Felonix wasn't pissed at IAGIS. He could yell or insult the system with his sharp wit and sarcastic tongue, but for the first time in a long time, the Steward realized why he could never scrap IAGIS, why they always fought like brothers instead of a Nobody and a Computer, why they had such an excellent back and forth of insults all the time. They were the same. Neither capable of feeling Feelings yet understanding the responsibility of protecting what they had nourished into a pure specimen of life and technology.
Neither could feel anything, but they both knew fear.
The Steward spoke calmly, and quietly, both into the intercom where IAGIS 'resided' and in the earpiece where his lead scientist trembled.
IAGIS.. Anse.. Initiate Valhalla Protocol. The responses were simultaneous.
But Sir! Are you certain that… Are you mad?! I haven't even fully…
I know! Damn it, don't you think I know?! The Steward shouted, his deep voice booming through the 13th Floor as IAGIS and Anse stifled themselves to listen. Do you think I don't understand the risks that this carries? Do you think I want to make this sacrifice?! Do you think I want to fail the friends and citizens who trusted in me for safety and protection?! I have to do everything in my power to keep these people safe! I have to..
A final explosion, this time coming from the 12th floor, interrupting Felonix's painful rant. It was all he needed though. IAGIS and Anse understood. IAGIS was the first to speak, almost immediately.
I'll gather who I can Sir. The intruder is making his way through the 12th Floor now. But I *fzzt*. A crackle of electricity buzzed through the intercom as Felonix began to leave the throne room. He stopped for a moment to look around as he attempted to reconnect with IAGIS through his earpiece.
A darkened marble desk with paperwork scattered on the top rested to the left of the room, the documents on top of it trembling as the lower levels of the Castle shook. In the center of the room was the throne itself, a large testament to the grandiose nature of the castle, made of the same darkened marble as the desk. Behind the throne was Felonix's living quarters, but he required nothing more from that room. Lingering Darkness had been in his hand since the beginning of the ordeal, and Burning Rage had never left it's resting place on his back. He turned, satisfied with what he knew would be his last look at this room, and began to run through the 13th Floor's long corridor.
The Corridor had been lined with masterfully painted portraits of all the rulers of Castle Oblivion throughout the years. Felonix's portrait was first, closest to the throne room as he was the current Steward. Underneath his portrait read a small bio, with the uncharacteristic nameplate "The Steward of Innovation." Next down the list had been Jeremi, "The Steward of Sacrifice." Jeremi had saved the Castle from an attack on Onyx years before by sacrificing his Stewardship and banishing himself from the world. I'm sorry I failed you old friend.. Felonix thought as he continued running by.
Next was Steward Etzolix, "The Steward of New Beginnings". Felonix didn't know much about Etzolix, or honestly many of the other rulers of the Castle beyond him. Despite the fact that Felonix had lost much of his memory years prior, Castle Oblivion kept minimalistic records of its previous leaders as both a sign of respect of privacy, and a precautionary measure. The less known of an outside source no longer within the confines of the castle, the better. The final portrait, by the door, he remembered very much about.
"Lord Zexion – Steward of the Oblivion". Many of his citizens mumbled rumor amongst themselves about Lord Zexion, some claiming him to be peaceful, while others blaming him for the downfall of the Universe. None knew him like Felonix did however. Strict, but stern. An Illusionist by trade, a Mastermind by choice. Felonix knew the truth of Lord Zexion, but resounded to let those memories lay to rest with himself alone. Anyone else who fought in the Oblivion War and still lived often seemed to agree. Much of the past was best left forgotten. Still running towards the door, the mechanical voice of IAGIS broke his reminiscing.
Sir, this being that is attacking.. IAGIS seemed to pause momentarily before continuing. He's gone straight for the main connection point between Space Paranoids and Castle Oblivion on the 12th Floor. Typical procedure would have broken the chains in his heart already to prevent movement but..
But there are no chains to break. Who the hell is this guy? IAGIS, can you teleport me to the secondary bridge in Basement 12?
Unfortunately not Sir. Power was redirected from most subroutines to keep defenses up. Teleportation will not fully be back online for another 12 minutes 16 seconds. Damn he thought. We don't have that kind of time. How close can you get me now? As far as the lobby. Do it. As the Steward ran, his body began to disappear into blue blocks, starting at the head and working their way down to his feet, reappearing in the same order in the lobby. All in all, the process only took about half a second. Under the circumstances however, it felt like an eternity to Felonix.
Anse, I'm in the lobby. How is the Valhalla Protocol coming? As he began making his way to the stairs to Basement Floor 1, Anse's voice came through his headset. Slowly sir. Most of the citizens have made it to Basement Floor 11 and are beginning to funnel in per procedure, but we can't do anything without the Signet Ring. I know, I'm coming as quickly as possible. Felonix stopped abruptly, before adding Thank you Anse. You're doing a fine job.
Anse was partially floored. It was uncharacteristic of the Steward to compliment his work. Clearly this matter wasn't sitting well with him. Th..Thank you Sir.
Felonix nodded, reaching the base of the stairs to Basement Floor 1 as a large explosion from above almost knocked him off his feet. A quick glance behind him showed the roof collapse on the stairs he had just come down, effectively sealing him in the Basement. Nowhere to go but down I guess.. he muttered.
-Gummi Hanger, Basement Floor 1-
He was in luck, however, as Basement Floor 1 had been converted into a Gummi Ship hanger almost as soon as Felonix had received Stewardship of the castle. A Gummi Ship in this scenario would be useless, but in the contingency of a field operation, the Hanger had been hard-linked to both the Soldier Stasis and Training Wing in Basement Floor 9 and the Medical Wing in Basement Floor 10. Steward Felonix rushed to the console linking the floors, and punched the digits "BF10" on the keypad in front of him. As the transportation began, another strike hit from the outside, threatening to bring the ceiling of the hangar crumbling down.
-Medical Wing, Basement Floor 10-
As the transfer finished, Felonix turned, and, with Lingering Darkness still in his hand, destroyed the console, rendering the bridge between BF1 and BF9 and 10 Useless. Basement Floor 10 was also completely empty. As barren as the rest of the Castle. Everyone should be at 12 by now Felonix thought as he made his way to the stairs from BF10 to BF11. IAGIS, Status Report. Sir, it would appear all citizens have been gathered in Basement Floor 12 as per the Valhalla Protocol. Castle Floors 5-13 have crumbled, rendering floors 2-4 impassable. Damn. Begin downloading yourself to my earpiece now to ensure safe passage. Understood Sir, but please realize I will be temporarily offline while downloading. Yeah, but as much shit as you give me, I'm not leaving a single inhabitant of this Castle behind. Including you. IAGIS's voice temporarily shifted from serious to playful in response. How very.. Generous of you Steward. Will I receive my own Hard Drive in the Future? Felonix cracked a smile as he circled the spiral stairs to BF11. Don't push your damn luck trash heap. And with that, the earpiece made a quick, digital *POP* and IAGIS fell silent.
-Soldier's Quarters, Basement Floor 11-
Anse, Status Update. It was the Scientists turn to speak as dust began to fall around Felonix and throughout BF11. All citizens, soldiers and staff accounted for Sir. The Protocol needs more time to charge without your Signet Ring though, but as of now, 92% of all Castle Resources and Technology have been prepared. The Steward opened the final door in BF11, leading down to BF12. Good work Anse. I'm nearly to you. One final explosion rocked the Castle above. That's probably the Lobby by now.. Anse interrupted his thoughts. Will we have enough time Sir? Steward Felonix cocked his head, as if calculating how much time they had versus how much time they needed. Of course Anse. Every single one of us is making it across alive. Steward's Honor. Anse didn't respond, but he didn't need to. The Steward had finally arrived at Basement Floor 12.
-Basement Floor 12-
The room was filled with a hollow somberness as Steward Felonix walked in. Immediately every Soldier in his army turned at attention and gave a salute, ready for anything expected or otherwise to happen. Felonix feigned a smirk. At ease Soldiers. Instantly, every Soldier dropped their hands to their sides and went back to tending to the civilians. Felonix began to walk from the door to the Main Console in the center of the room. As he did, the civilians and Soldiers alike separated to create a clear path down the middle. As he walked, Felonix couldn't help but notice the look of terror in their eyes. Through the agreement he had with Azmot and the power of the Castle, most of the Soldiers' Memories had been rewritten to give an air of fearlessness. But the Citizens.. The families of the Medical Staff, Gummi Dock Workers, Training Crew, Crowd Control.. The Steward had never seen so much fear in one place. Fear of what was happening to their safe haven from Onyx's War. Fear of not knowing what was going to happen. Fear of the possibility of these being their final breaths, buried 12 stories beneath the surface of their homes.
Every Single One. He reminded himself as he approached the Console. Anse, Status Report. The frail scientist in the too big lab coat barely looked up. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, it was pointless trying to make eye contact with him through his 3-inch-too-thick glasses.
Reports are showing that all Resources and Technology have been digitized and prepared for transfer. Castle. Staffing and Personnel Transfer is only at .2% With your Signet ring, the time should increase threefold. Good. Have you informed them? Yes Sir.. Everyone in the room is prepared for the transfer. The Steward nodded before walking up to the Console.
The White and Green Console pulsed violently in front of him, it itself a marvel to behold. An engineering feat of the technology of Space Paranoids combined with the style and class of Castle Oblivion. Proof that two World Leaders could share a common goal. It had originally been designed to act as a bridge between Space Paranoids and Castle Oblivion, but once contact had been lost with Azmot for nearly a year, Anse had suggested a back-up escape plan should anything happen.
Anse.. Felonix spoke before pausing. Anse did look up this time, sensing a gravitas in the Steward's voice that was not present earlier. When you informed me of your discovery almost a year ago.. a Parallel Universe nearly completely similar to ours.. I wanted to smack you so bad for making shit up again. Anse nervously brought his hand behind his head, in a sort of "Yeah, I can be a bit of a Mad Scientist sometimes" kind of way. But now.. Felonix placed his hand on Anse's shoulder and gave his traditional fake Nobody smile. I'm glad I listened to you Old Friend.
Anse removed his arm and looked back at Felonix, a smile on his face. Feeling bad for ruining one of the few moments where the Steward wasn't shouting at him for his mistakes, he gestured to the console. The Signet Ring, My Steward. Felonix nodded and approached the console. The Ring on his hand a symbol of his power. Handed down to him in a time of war by Jeremi.. He never could have assumed while adjusting to the heavy weight it bore that it would one day be used for this. He looked over his citizens one more time, but all their eyes were on him now. Some filled with terror. Some with hope. All looking to Steward Felonix for guidance and protection. He gave them all a reassuring smile, then inserted the ring into the Console.
In that instance, time seemed to stand still for everyone in the room. Everyone but Felonix. The Ring on his hand, his hand in the console, his eyes locked straight ahead. A strong sense of darkness surrounded the entire room, the energy emanating from it reminding him of a portal.. Unable to move but aware of his surroundings, the Steward stared directly ahead at a cloaked figure moving through the domed wall of darkness towards him.
This was the attacker. The person responsible for all this.
A grin flashed from under the cloak, and a deep, older, almost gravelly voice spoke. I was growing impatient. Figured you would have made it here sooner with every push and shove I gave you back there.
Push and shove…? The Steward thought. Goddammit.. He WANTED this.. It was all a trap!
The figure nodded, as if he was in Felonix's head. You're damn right I wanted this. The figure brushed his hand over the console, right above the Signet Ring. But I'll have to tell you why later. The head inside the hood turned to look at Felonix. Right now, you've got a trip to take My Boy. He violently reached out, punching the console and shattering it into several pieces. His smile appeared once more as he brought his hand up and waved.
Safe Trip, Steward. I'll be seeing you soon.
As the figure walked back through the portal, the base of the console began to explode into digital code, as if a Nuclear Bomb filled with Matrix-style coding had been dropped in front of him. Still unable to move, Felonix watched as the orb exploded, engulfing him in a flash of green text. The impact was enough to free him from the Mysterious Figure's spell, but also enough to temporarily knock him unconscious.
*Afloat and Unmoored*
-Somewhere Inbetween-
Steward Felonix stood, looking out at the room. Every eye focused on him, but everyone.. Smiling. They all made it. He whispered to himself in his mind. Every lost soul accounted for. He was about to smile, to celebrate, when an orb of darkness swallowed a young girl at the back of the room. Felonix leaned forward to focus on what had happened, as two more orbs appeared, swallowing two more citizens before disappearing. All the while, every face was still focused on him, smiling as if they had won a war. The orbs began to speed up in their consumption of the Residents, from two to three, from three to five, from five to seven, from seven to ten. Felonix attempted to reach for Lingering Darkness by his side, but found that he couldn't move. In an instant, his hand was stuck in the Transfer Console again, leaving him powerless and motionless as his Citizens stared back at him, Cheshire Cat grins on every face. He was unable to struggle, to scream out for help, to command them to run. All Felonix could do was watch as the last of his Citizens faded into darkness. Anse stepped in front of the Stewards frozen eyes, happy as could be as the darkness began to creep up his body, seemingly flowing through his veins. His face was inches from Felonix's as he began to shout.
Wake up? Anse's grin grew larger as he continued shouting, the darkness wrapping around him in a cloak, his voice getting deeper and louder as he spoke. WAKE UP NOW! YOU HAVE TO! He sounded as if he was gargling ground sandstone as the Darkness changed him from Anse into the Mysterious Figure that had assaulted his Castle. The Mysterious Figure, still smiling from underneath his cloak, place a single finger on Felonix's unmovable forehead.
Wake up Steward. With that, the console exploded again, same as it had before.
He opened his eyes as a migraine from hell rocked his head, Felonix feeling as if his brain had been turned to mush. He put a hand down on the ground to get his balance, then slowly stood up. As he turned around, he noticed that not only was he alone, but he had never seen this place before. The closest description he could think of was of Betwixt and Between, but instead of two portals, there were 4. East, South, North and West of him, Blue, Green, Orange, and Red respectively. The only company he had was a floating cube, about a foot tall and a foot wide, floating in front of him. The cube began shouting at Felonix again.
STEWARD! ARE YOU THERE? Felonix looked at the box, studying it quickly before responding. Anse?
Oh thank the heavens you made it! Made it? Made it where?
The cube was silent for a moment, before a small holographic screen projected itself from the top. Displayed was Anse's face, in the background all of Castle Oblivion's citizens. BF12's ceiling visibly crumbled a bit as Anse spoke again. I believe you're in the halfway between our Dimension and the new Dimension. A.. "Connecting Station" if you will.. Felonix tried to take it all in. And where are you Anse? Where are the Citizens? The Resources?
Well, the Resources are all in front of you. The Steward looked at the cube. They were compressed into digital space to make the transition easier. That's what took so long. We can't compress people though..
Anse.. A bit of tension in Felonix's voice this time. Where are you and where are my Citizens?
Anse was silent for a moment before speaking. We didn't make it Sir.. I..I.. I don't know what happened! You inserted the Signet Ring into the console and in the next instant, you were gone and the console was in pieces! Felonix turned away, hand on the bridge of his nose out of frustration.
In a heartbeat, Felonix turned, blinded by rage, and began punching the floating digital cube, screaming out in anger. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! Another punch. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK FLAWLESSLY!! Two more punches. YOU HAVE TO TRY AGAIN ANSE! A final punch, almost of desperation instead of rage. You have to help me save them!
Sir.. I'm sorry.. Anse fell silent again for a moment before speaking. He mustered every last bit of courage he had as he spoke. There's nothing you can do for us but rebuild. Anse, you have to try to..
Sir! For the first time since he starting working with him, Anse took an assertive voice with the Steward. It's over for us now. No.. he muttered under his breath.
Anse shook his head violently before looking back to the Steward. You've done all you can for us Sir. Anse stepped away from the screen for a second, giving Felonix a clear view of everyone in the room. They could all hear Anse. They all knew it was the end. No one knew it would come this soon, but their final hour was upon them. The ceiling cracked again, rubble and dust falling into the room more visibly now.
Sir. We will not die like cowards. Not after everything you've done for us. Anse.. Felonix couldn't believe this was happening. Everything he was trusted with, everything he built, everything he fought for. Literally crumbling before his eyes.
ATTENTION! Anse's usually meek voice resounded throughout the basement. Every Soldier in the room stood at attention, right hand in a salute, left hand by their sides. Each was broken in formation however, as on every face was a grin. Grimly, the Citizens stood up, at first one-by-one, but in a matter of seconds all were standing. In a matter of seconds all were saluting. In a matter of seconds, all were smiling. Anse slowly moved back in front of the camera.
Sir, you taught every one of us to step outside of our comfort zone. You taught us what it meant to be Warriors, Doctors, Scientists, Blacksmiths.. You gave each and every one of us a new purpose. A reason to exist. And you'll do it again. Anse turned and smiled at the Steward. Just like you alwa…
A large explosion from above BF12 shattered the incoming feed long enough to cut off Anse. A split second of the ceiling crashing in on the trapped citizens flashed in front of Felonix, and before he knew it, they were gone and the feed transitioned to static.
Anse?! ANSE!!! A blind fit of fury boiled throughout Felonix as he took Burning Rage from its holster on his back. The flames on the sword roared to life, filled with the passion and anger that now consumed its Master. It burned brighter and hotter than ever before as Felonix repeatedly smashed it into the cube in front of him. Everything he did would be for naught, however, as minutes later, he slowed down to see the box was completely unscathed.
He cast his sword to the side and began punching the box once more, screaming in rage and agony, pleading for retribution. Uncharacteristically, a lone tear streamed down the Nobody Steward's face as he begged. He didn't even think that was possible. To show real emotion. Please let me save them.. I can't do this alone.. I don't want to be alone..
You aren't alone Sir.. A look of shock crossed over his face. IAGIS! You made it!
I did Sir. My download finished fully only moments before the transfer. Every line of my programming is currently located inside your earpiece. Felonix gave a sly smile, but it quickly disappeared as he returned to the matter at hand. They're all gone IAGIS.. Anse, The Citizens, The Castle.. There's nothing left. Felonix stared into the distance, a forlorn sadness washing over him. I couldn't save them..
The computerized voice inside Felonix's earpiece was contemplating his response. Not only had he never seen Felonix so emotional over something, he lacked the emotion necessary for comfort. All things said, the Computer and the Nobody were very similar in many regards. IAGIS was silent for what seemed like ages before speaking again.
I… I am so terribly sorry Sir. I can't help but to feel as though if I was still in the Castle's system, things may have ended differently.. If it were a glitch or a programming error maybe I could have..
Felonix's sadness slowly turned to anger as his hand balled into a fist. No.. It was our Attacker who did this. IAGIS was silent in response to this revelation. I don't know how exactly to describe it, but it was almost as if.. As if he froze time itself.. Felonix looked straight up, at the 'ceiling' of this Psuedo-Betwixt and Between place he had been mourning in. I watched everything IAGIS.. His eyes closed as if he was basking in the light of a warm sun or cherishing a fresh spring rain, merely a coping mechanism. I was powerless to help any of them. He led us to BF12. He wanted this to happen.
The Steward's last statement caused IAGIS to perk up again. He.. Wanted this to happen? The Steward nodded. Couldn't possibly tell you why though.. He paused for a moment before speaking up again. Now, I don't even know where the hell I am. This was all Anse's plan.. I didn't even know this.. Felonix made a grand sweeping gesture to his current location ..was a thing! Now there are four paths to choose from and… He paused as his eyes fell on the Blue 'Portal' in the room. Not only was it slowly getting lighter in color, it seemed to be shrinking. It was almost gone entirely before a bolt of Darkness shot out from it coming directly towards Felonix. He quickly reached over to grab Burning Rage where it had fallen, but it was too late. In the matter of a millisecond, the black mass of Darkness seemed to phase through Felonix. Felonix stumbled back on his feet as if he had just been hit with a strong gust of wind. After he caught his balance, he turned behind him to look at the Red Entrance.
None other but the Mysterious Man was standing in front of him, head cocked down, smile cracked wide. The Red Portal behind him had begun slowly wrapping around him, it's tendrils of redness wrapping themselves around the Man's ankles, then waist, then chest.
I see him Sir..
I'm gonna make that bastard pay.
But Sir, you don't..
Before IAGIS could finish, Felonix was in motion. Right hand on the hilt of Burning Rage on the ground, Felonix reached out with his left hand and pushed the floating cube of Castle Oblivion's data in front of him. A gust of wind surrounded him as he activated a dormant spell, Zephyr's Flight. Zephyr's Mark, a ring on Felonix's hand opposite the Signet Ring, began to glow as Felonix and the cube began rushing towards the Mysterious Man. In a matter of seconds, Felonix was upon his enemy, ready to strike. He twisted his body back for a full attack, but no sooner than he had appeared, the Man was gone.
Felonix was now inches away from where the Mysterious Figure once stood, which meant he was inches away from the Portal. Unable to stop, he held the wide, flat side of Burning Rage in front of him in a defensive measure as he passed through, crossing to the other side.
*A Familiar Beginning*
-Castle Oblivion, Basement Floor 12-
The East wall of Basement Floor 12 pulsed for a moment, glowing Red as a floating cube of Data flew through the solid surface with great speed. Close behind was Steward Felonix. As he passed through the portal, he shifted from his attack into a dive and a roll, coming to a stop in the center of the room. Back on his feet, he spun wildly in an attempt to find the Mysterious Figure.
FACE ME YOU SON OF A BITCH! The shout echoed throughout the Floor with no answer.
Sir… IAGIS was interrupted by another shout.
COME OUT OF THE SHADOWS AND FIGHT ME!! Again, no answer.
Sir.. I believe he's gone.. Felonix made one more assessment of the room before lashing out on the Floating Cube of Data in front of him again. This time, it didn't hold where it was hovering like it had before, but instead floated towards the wall of BF12 at the same speed Felonix had hit it. The Cube hit the wall, slowly digitizing itself as it recognized the familiar surface. Green text coded itself first through what was originally the Transfer Room before spreading throughout the Castle. Felonix stared at it, still expecting the Mysterious Figure to make another appearance. Save for IAGIS though, he was completely alone.
Sir, my readings indicate Data Transfer to this Universe's Castle Oblivion will be finished in approximately 1 hour. All resources and information of the original Castle will be implanted within these walls.
The Nobody placed his sword back in its resting place on his back as he ran his hand through his hair out of frustration for losing the Mysterious Man. Once it's finished, divert all non-essential resources to tracking our Attacker. I wish to know everything about him as quickly as possible.
But Steward, I think.. Felonix interrupted IAGIS midsentence. No IAGIS.. I'm not a Steward anymore.. He looked over the empty Console Room of the new Basement Floor 12. A brief glimpse of every Citizen, Soldier, and Officer that was left behind flashed in his mind as he looked at their empty spaces. I have no Citizens to rule, no Soldiers to command, no Families to protect.. I am simply the Empty Lord of an Empty Castle now..
IAGIS paused and after a moment, Felonix took advantage of the silence. IAGIS. Open Subject Felonix, Memory File Castle Oblivion Floor 12, Circe 1 year ago. Are you sure Sir? Lord Felonix nodded. Please.
In an instant the basement walls began to change. Nothing drastic, he was in the same room as he had been before, but to him, it felt noticeably different. Using the power of the Castle to access his own memory links, Felonix was now looking directly into the 3 inch too-thick glasses of Anse once more. This day in his history, the two had been playing a game of chess while waiting for Azmot's contact through the Console. His contact which never came again. Felonix stared at Anse for a while, knowing he was nothing more than an illusion but not being able to look away.
Your move Sir. His voice broke Felonix out of his trance as he looked at the Chess Board. Sorry, I…
You look like you've seen a ghost. Anse chuckled for a second then stopped, as the Steward had never cared much for his humor in the past. Felonix looked up at his lead Scientist, his hand hovering over his Rook. He had been ready to capture Anse's Bishop, but stopped instead to let off a short laugh. He knew he wasn't real, but he took comfort in talking to Anse once again.
You don't know the half of it Old Friend. The laugh tipped Anse off, something was strange about all of this. The Steward never laughed at his jokes in the past, always choosing the Firm and Stern approach with him.
I'm not really here, am I? Felonix's eyes drifted back to the Chessboard, his Rook capturing Anse's Bishop. He paused for a long moment before answering.
No.. You're not. You're a construct of my memories.. He filled Anse in on everything that had happened, from the Universal Shift and the failings of the Valhalla Protocol to the Mysterious Figure and the new, empty Castle Oblivion. Anse sat silent, staring at Felonix as he spoke. Finally, Felonix finished recounting his tale as Anse removed his glasses to clean them, before returning them to the bridge of his nose again.
So why bring me back then Sir? It was Felonix's turn for silence as he thought of all the reasons. By the end of it all, there was one reason in particular that stood out.
I can't do this alone anymore. I need the guidance of my Second-in-Command, even if he is only a memory.
Ages seemed to go by as the two sat in silence, lingering over Felonix's final statement. Finally, it was Anse who broke the silence.
Check Sir. Felonix brought his attention to the board again, where Anse had moved his Queen to take Felonix's Rook, lining him up with his King. Without thinking, Felonix moved his Bishop to take Anse's Queen. Sloppy move Anse. Checkmate."
Damn, said Anse with a smile. Best Two out of Three Sir? I think I can take you this time. Felonix looked up from the chess set, a slow and forlorn happiness on his face. I would like that Old Friend. Best Two out of Three. The memory of Anse, still smiling, nodded and cleared the Chess Board for a reset.
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Anything can happen. When damage occurs to property we work closely with your insurance provider to report on the cause of the damage and what to do to fix it. We provide the necessary details and specifications to make things code compliant again.
We can even arrange for a quantity surveyor to review the required repair work so that an accurate assessment of costs to fully fix is made.


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Here's a blog post on review genres in academic work. How do we learn how to review?
This guest post is from Sue Starfield, professor in the School of Education and the Director of the Learning Centre at UNSW Australia. Sue's interests include tertiary academic literacies, doctoral writing, writing for publication and identity in academic writing. If you enjoy this, you may like these related posts.
It struck me recently that I spend large amounts of my everyday academic life carrying out reviews of various sorts. Besides the ongoing feedback I provide to my doctoral students on their writing, usually through 'track changes', I do many other kinds of reviews. Quite a number of these are quite high stakes such as examining a doctoral thesis or reviewing a book proposal for a publisher for example. Yet it is difficult, if not impossible, to gain access to exemplars of these kinds of texts.
Hyland and Diani (2009, p. 1) noted that "what academics mainly do is evaluate". As…
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Where is the oil going?I just had the oil changed, I have no apparent leaks in my 2009 Sierra. I placed about 2500 miles on since the change...
"Problem with pression point/spot blue doing screen replacement."に関する回答The touch sensor isn't sitting well, in some repairs loosen the battery plate and ensure it is all the way to the opposite direction of the sensor. Also some say to move the sensor down a smidge? To ensure it fits. Also if there is the foam on top of the connectors to remove it so it has more room.
"Have broken a cable while removing the battery - Please help"に関する回答That appears to be the power flex cable, it can be replaced
"not charging after port change"に関する回答Tristan chip may be the issue, can be microsolder
"Replacing motherboard in iPhone 6"に関する回答Can you microsolder? This is a lengthy process. What exactly did you "mess" up on the board? If you need data there are other avenues depending on what is wrong.
"Washer takes forever to fill with water, but doesn't over fill"に関する回答Check the screens on your hoses for filling for debris.
"iPhone 6 Poor Wi-Fi Connection"に関する回答There is an inter connected antenna on the underside of the board that may need to be reseated. Unless you are extremely diligent with the screw and all of the small parts I would suggest getting some help with the repair. If this doesn't solve the issue there is also microsoldering options but we can cross the bridge on that after the antenna is checked.
"My Phone Wont go off Diagnostics"に関する回答Is the device asking for you to sign into your cloud?
"broken clip on home button connector"に関する回答Try microsoldering.com or mendonipadrehab.
"I see a charging symbol, but the battery is not increasing more than 1"に関する回答You replaced the front glass, did you disconnect the battery before the repair? Any damage to the battery socket, are your cables seated properly within the frame, a pinched or shorted cable has been know to happen when closing the phone.
"forgot my iCloud password & user name"に関する回答Use your backup email to recover them. There isn't any way to remove iCloud lock.
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Is a New Wave of Worldwide Terror at Hand? – Prg 7 MP3 Audio Download
The Oslo Accords, Camp David, and the Geneva Accords: Did the Palestinians ever intend for any of that stuff to really be true or to happen. Is it possible that an Israeli-Palestinian? that we'll have two states in our lifetime? Will it happen? And if so
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Our First Look at the 7 Moncler Fragment Hiroshi FuJiwara collection
Hiroshi Fujiwara is joining forces with Moncler! Only hours ago the iconic brand dropped a sneak peak of what to expect from the upcoming collection. The collection is being dropped in two instalments—the first on June 13 at Pitti Immagine Uomo and the second in December—so make sure you put your reminders on!
Music culture heavily influences next weeks drop, which fits right in with Fujiwara's background as a musician and record producer. The word "backstage" appears throughout the collection on coats and jackets, and seems to be giving credit to the people working behind the scenes in the music industry. A quote directly from the man him Hiroshi Fujiwara said "Moncler Genius is the opportunity to mix different identities into a new one. It allowed me to test solutions and materials I have never used." Now we cant wait!
The launch event will take place on June 13 at Pitti Immagine Uomo in partnership with matchesfashion.com. The preview of the collection will be available and sold on June 14 in all Moncler boutiques, moncler.com, and exclusively on matchesfashion.com.


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Cuts For Kids kicks off it's summer roster with an event at Morrison Gardens Community House, in Nepean! Join us for an evening of organized games, BBQ, and free haircuts for the children.
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Earlier Event: July 1Booth at Canada Day in Kanata
Later Event: August 11Pinecrest Terrace