text:
I Am Christianish
- 2009 4 Aug
EDITOR'S NOTE: The following excerpt is taken from the prologue of Mark Steele's third book, Christianish. ©2009 Cook Communications Ministries. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.
At approximately three o'clock, on an otherwise uneventful afternoon, random disaster landed in my living room, scarring my wife's affenpinscher permanently. In a collision of arbitrary calamity—the sort of incident one reads about in a James Frey memoir but does not believe—my wife accidentally cut off our dog's tongue with a pair of grooming scissors.
Grooming scissors.
The dog was named Scout in honor of the little girl in To Kill a Mockingbird, though he is neither a girl nor currently inside any fancy books. It must first be respectfully noted that the dog's tongue is his talent. It is his method of showing affection, and he wields it with a flourish like the caricature artist on the boardwalk waves pastel chalk before sketching your oversized head on the body of a miniscule muscleman. Scout's lick was his love. It was all he really knew how to do—that tongue was his Sistine Chapel.
Of all the human beings who could have fathomably been the bearer of this specific catastrophic misstep toward my dog—a cutlery juggler, a careless balsa whittler, the lady who runs the paper shredder at Kinko's—the least likely and the worst emotional choice is the human who actually did the deed. That would be my wife, Kaysie.
The reason Kaysie is the worst choice as the cause of this particular accident is because there is not a human soul on the planet who loves the dog more. In fact, the atrocity occurred during an act of kindhearted affection. Kaysie was grooming Scout with great precision and detail—prettying him up because, after all, he is named after a girl. She was only slightly distracted by the fact that her back was aching, she was about to leave town for five days, and she had just received word that a loved one had passed away. Still, she forged ahead with the necessary grooming. She took a clump of his doggie hair between the blades, and then—just as she squeezed—Scout whipped his face around, jamming his tongue in the middle of the shears themselves.
The rest—as you would imagine—was gross.
Scout was rushed to the vet where they angrily asked how this could have happened. I don't know how this happened! The dog was licking an envelope while I accidentally slipped it in the paper-shredder. What do you think happened?! The vet quickly gave him ten stitches. Ten. I reiterate this because the vet also reiterated this, making sure we fully understood that Scout was a tiny dog and that he should have never been subjected to such terror. Ten stitches, the vet insisted, were ten stitches too many.
He chewed them all out overnight. The determination was made in the morning that Scout would need to have the dangling participle removed altogether. The tongue-ectomy was performed. A fourth of his slobbering member was omitted. From then on, he yelped with a lisp. It's a good thing my name is Mark.
So, Kaysie felt horribly and she shouldn't have, because it wasn't her fault. It was just the rotten way everything sort of fell together in light of the chaos that was going on around her mixed with the flitting nature of the dog. But that doesn't change the fact that it did indeed happen. It doesn't change the fact that Scout's tongue is now gone for good.
I understand Kaysie's guilt and grief because I have also played a part in someone's catastrophe. Several someones, in fact. I have played a part in many needful things being removed.
The scissors I wielded were not tangible. They were different things in different seasons of my life: the cutlery of my inconsistent ways, my sarcastic tongue, and my resistance to maturity. In too many moments, when I knew full well that someone was watching, I selected selfishness—to make decisions in a manner that would benefit myself most of all. I tossed about my acidic words like Agent Orange on a rice field. I snubbed my nose at others whose sin or failure was simply a nuanced variation of my own. I aimed for godliness as an idea, but was quick to snag the do-over of grace when my intentions proved
faulty. I judged. I condemned. And I thought it was okay because the people of the church were still impressed with me.
But the world was watching.
Funny. I always thought my attempts at godliness wouldn't make all that much difference to the world. In light of the mammoth sunshine of Christ, I was at best a tiny blip of a moon. Miniature and reflective. Barely a dust mite in light of that massive star. Unfortunately, that tiny moon is capable of blocking out the light of the sun almost entirely. It's called an eclipse, and it is what happens when the vastly smaller moon is hovering too close to the observer and in front of the sunlight. Yes, most nights we moons reflect the light, claiming its grandeur as our own—but occasionally, through a sudden collision of random happenstance, we make the sun seem to completely disappear.
This should come as no surprise to me because my own faith journey was marred by a number of moons blotting out the light. One religious leader in particular had many profound God-ideas that transformed me—but he also used to call me "lard-ass" on a regular basis. He was joking, of course, but due to my ongoing neuroses regarding weight gain, I was never able to hear any truth out of his lips past the moon of that repeated statement. This was unfortunate, because I wasn't very large and my derriere was made of neither margarine nor shortening. He also had some very good things to say.
This knee-jerk reaction to criticism and insults developed a defense mechanism inside of me. Ironically, this defense was my wit. If I could insult and get a laugh before the other person, then I never had to be called fat or weak or worthless again. So I manufactured the very same set of scissors that had cut me. Kindness had been ripped from my person and replaced with something akin to coarseness. A leathery coating of intellect and cleverness that would hide the ugly fear and mask it with uglier pride. This was my weapon—and I daily saved myself by harming everyone else.
The root of the problem—and the real damage—is that while I lived in this dysfunction, I called myself Christian.
I never really liked the name Christian. I was told it meant "little Christ" and as a thirteen-year-old, that sounded (at best) presumptuous and (at its basest) freakishly cocky beyond all measure. In all honesty, I didn't want to be a little Christ. It seemed both insulting to God and too much pressure for me. I didn't want to be a souvenir of Jesus. I didn't want to be His homeboy—a bobblehead version you buy at the gas station that cheapens the real deal. I wanted instead to be a follower of Christ. I'd heard that phrase bandied about and I thought it sounded accurate. And cool. I would vastly prefer to be an arrow pointing to the Great Question, rather than have someone mistake me for the answer.
My take on the matter was unfortunate because the truth actually lay somewhere in-between. No, I do not believe Jesus desired for me to be mistaken for Him. He did not intend for my singular actions to be the sole picture of who He truly is. But He did and does fully urge me to pursue being one of the many earth-pictures that cause people to see Him at work in their lives.
This was a risky move for God. By making each and every one of us who calls himself "Christian" an active parable of His love, He is hazarding the chance that some (or even one) of us won't take that symbolism very seriously. Somehow, in the scheme of the passage of time, we have placed the issue of "example of Jesus" into the hands of evangelical religion as a whole, living as if "together, somebody's got everything covered." But this is not reality. Reality beckons a weak-link theory: that even a singular one who calls himself little Jesus, and yet lives the opposite, damages the whole caboodle—and in effect, damns the world that is watching.
In a crude analogy, we're advertising Coca-Cola by saying it tastes like turpentine and then growing antagonistic towards those unwilling to take a swig.
And yet, God took the risk anyway, because He knows that the other end of the spectrum is also true. As much as it damages the reputation of Christ for those who call themselves Christians to live the antithesis of His teachings—on the flipside, it makes quite a statement when a flawed human makes a right decision with nothing in it for himself other than taking a stand for Christ. It is the single most tangible way to prove the intangible. This was God's plan: that when the world looks at each of us, they would not simply see a follower of Him. In some miraculous and unexplainable way, God knows that when the world stares at a flawed human who somehow occasionally chooses holy and unhuman actions, they see a picture of Jesus. It is the one true arrow that God's grace allows us each to be. A conduit for a relationship between someone else and God. This is why He took the risk. This is why He took the risk on me.
But something happened along the way.
Somewhere along the road of offense and defense, I stopped being a little Christ and instead began filling out the application that I had labeled Christian. It was not a definition based on the actual namesake, but rather, on those who frequent the clubhouse. And in the midst of being an American Christian among all the other American Christians, I stopped truly searching the nuances of who Christ was and is in order to fully grasp what a little Christ might, indeed, act like. Certainly, I soaked in the Word of God in seasons. I knew the key stories—the greatest hits: the miracles, the Beatitudes, the Passion Week, and whatnot. But I chose not to apply the reality of all the truth in between His words and actions into my own behavior. I allowed Jesus to seep into my church world—but not my relational world, my romance world, my business world, my creative world, my habits, my mouth.
I read His words.
I learned His words.
But I did not fully belong to Him.
Because of this, I became a sort of half-breed. I segregated myself—splitting my soul into two segments: one that would openly serve Jesus and one that would secretly protect myself. I became like people I deemed my-kind-of-godly instead of becoming like Jesus. I pursued Christian success instead of pursuing Christ. I spoke witty insults as commonly as profound prayers. And, in the process, I called myself a Christian without ever becoming a little Christ at all. I became something else.
Not truly Christian—but rather, merely Christianish.
As a church community, it is time we asked ourselves a startling question: what if we're not really following Jesus at all?
Our Christian intention has sharp edges. It has the ability to mold and shape, but also to stab and permanently damage. We have been wagging these blades carelessly for far too long while distracted by some very non-Christlike habits, behaviors, and dysfunctions. Because we are unable to notice our own distraction, we keep on waving our razors, impressed with our own cutlery skills until we suddenly find ourselves the benefactor of unintentional but irreversible wounds. And I don't simply refer to wounds made by a few. They are made by us all. By you. By me—by Mark Steele. Yes, we do our best to remedy these wounds, calling our efforts misunderstood and leaning on God's grace—in hopes that we can pick up off the floor that which we amputated and use the excuse that we handed it back. But it's not enough, not even close to enough.
How did modern evangelicalism lose its balance? How did some behavior fall into an accountability category while other distractions remained unaddressed and, therefore, socially and religiously acceptable? For me personally, my efforts had become more centered on how to cope with my own dysfunctional life, and less concentrated on what it really means to follow Jesus. I was more than off-balance. I was traveling the wrong road completely.
To this end, I recall how poorly my sense of balance was when I first began rollerblading. My roommates and I used to lace up and blade through the Saturday streets of downtown Tulsa while blaring Spin Doctors from our Walkmans. The first time we adventured as such, I expected myself to have zero difficulty. I had, after all, gone to the roller rink with Harold Johnson every Saturday afternoon from age nine all the way through to age twelve. In Columbus, Georgia, this weekly intersection of pinball, couple-skating, and gorging ourselves on banana flavored Now and Laters was the hot ticket. And I could do it all: dodge cones, speed race, or skate in reverse if the Dukes of Hazzard theme was playing to inspire me. How different could these new-fangled rollerblades be from those old four-wheel jobs?
The answer? Different enough.
Where I had spent a half-decade of my youth learning to stop on my toes, the rollerblade had no such mechanism. This greatly affected the way I stopped in downtown Tulsa. Roller blades were designed to stop by turning my feet into a V. This was difficult to master, so instead, I just kept throwing my body into lampposts.
At least seventeen times.
I literally stopped the momentum of my body by throwing myself into lampposts on purpose. My reasoning? Less bodily damage than throwing myself into moving automobiles.
After eight months of working with the rollerblades, I was no longer a novice. I had mastered the stop, the sharp turn, and every move necessary to adventure my favorite rollerway: Riverside Drive. Riverside is about six blocks of nonstop sidewalk alongside the river with no roadway interruptions. It is a great place to get your jog on, your rollerblade on, your freaky-skintight-biker-pants on. (I don't wear them myself for fear of skin overflow.) One fateful day, I decided to take a long roll down to the very end. This was a relatively big deal because I had never rollerbladed the yonder forbidden turns, though I had biked farther. So, I parked my car and began blading south, whipping past elderly speed-walkers and children on bikes with training wheels—thinking them fools for their slowness and feeling the clean, cold pavement whisk by underneath my rubber wheels.
As I rapidly approached the point where I had previously always turned around, I decided to forge onward, but I knew from my experience biking the path that this would require bravery. I was gaining momentum, and I knew that to keep going meant that I would have a sharp ninety-degree turn to my right followed by an immediate sharp ninety-degree turn to my left underneath a bridge. These were intense moves at this speed and I was not certain I was up for the challenge.
But I determined to go for it.
The curve came, and I leaned my body down to the right—fwoosh—and made the first turn. Then, sure enough, I shifted my body weight just as precisely the other way—sweesh—and made the second turn. I could feel the wheels trembling, my leg muscles straining—it was possible that I was about to bite it. But I did not. Because I had trained. I knew well that the road in front of me was going to hold massive twists and turns and so I had prepared myself to handle them appropriately.
What I did not realize was that, underneath the bridge in the shadows, the pavement turned to gravel.
My wheels hit the tiny stones and I flew—literally flew several yards, arms outstretched like a flying squirrel—into sand and pebbles. I felt them embed into my hands, chest, and legs. That sensation of flesh ripping. You know that sensation.
Not awesome.
I lay there, moaning. I staggered up, knowing that once the wind hit all of the scrapes and open wounds, I would be doomed. The wheels on one of my blades were now crooked, and my shorts were ripped. Oxygen did its thing, and suddenly all sorts of places on my body were bleeding.
As I stood there, in great pain and pouring plasma like a Monty Python sketch, I realized how wrong I had been to think myself prepared. I had deceived myself into thinking that the way to travel a unique road was by simply getting better and better at rollerblading. The problem was that this road was not a rollerblading road at all. To traverse it would not require a refinement of the old method. It would require a completely different method altogether.
I skated with one leg while dragging the other a full mile-and-a-half back to my car. It was mosquito season and a small nation of them suddenly realized the picnic of my body. I looked like one of those beekeepers in the Guinness Book of World Records, but without the sense of accomplishment. Every time I approached an elderly speed-walker or a training-wheel child, their eyes grew wide in horror. One mother shielded her child's face from looking directly at me and, if I am not mistaken, assumed I was a horseman of the coming apocalypse. I probably should have said "help" to one or more of these people. Instead, to each of them, I uttered the same word:
Once home, I stood in my shower while one of my roommates threw large cupfuls of hydrogen peroxide at my body and I bit down on a pencil.
Great pain. Great scars.
And I had thought I was prepared.
This is the difference between Christianish and Christ-follower. We have trained ourselves to cope well on a Christianish path: a path where we please the right godly people and don't feel guilt when our failings are seen by the world at large. Yes, our methods work on this path—but it's the wrong path. It's not the approach to Jesus that we are supposed to take—that we are created to take.
So, we fall into confusion over why life doesn't work and why our faith doesn't feel right and why nothing true is coming from our so-called Christianity. We attempt to fix it by refining our current method. But here's the catch: The method won't work on the right road, because it is a method built for the wrong road.
We cannot change the dysfunction of our Christian walk by simply trying to become better at the wrong we are already living.
We must switch roads. And, in switching, we must discover the new method of living that truly works on the right road.
There is only one way for me to discover the right way to travel the right road.
The way is not a church.
The way is not an ideology.
The way is not a Christian.
The way is Jesus.
In my path of becoming functional in a dysfunctional faith, I crashed and burned quite often. I became and remained the lukewarm that gets spit out. The vomit to which the dog returns. The goat that was separated from the sheep. I nodded and even verbalized amen at each and every one of those stories, tsk-tsking internally at the target of the moral, never once interpreting that the antagonist might just be me.
I was at risk of becoming the one at the pearly gate whom the very Jesus I thought I was serving says He never knew. I lost the plot altogether, grasping at the path toward eternity that fit most nicely into my temporal goals.
So, the question begs: How does the transformation begin? From Christianish to Christ-follower. What is the road? And what is the method? It is certainly a painful road. A gravel-laden path that requires going back to the very beginning and digging deep into Jesus' words and actions during the time He walked and breathed on planet Earth.
When you look at the New Testament from the Jesus perspective, it breaks down quickly into eleven key components of His history:
1. How He came into the world.
2. How He was tempted.
3. How His enemies responded to Him.
4. How He ministered to the common man.
5. How He made His living.
6. How He responded to His enemies.
7. How His friends responded to Him.
8. How He loved.
9. How He performed miracles.
10. How He died.
11. How He left.
The truth is here—not merely in the verses we have memorized, but in the manner in which the Savior spent His days. For me to become the true definition of a Christian, it will require breaking His thoughts down—and being willing to transform my own behavior into what I discover. It will require facing the music—and then doing something about it. It will require unlearning and baby steps. I have no idea what that sort of experiment will entail.
But I'm going to find out.
I now set out to find the right road.
The functional method.
I will be a Christ-follower.
And leave the stench of Christianish behind for good
I Am Christianish
- Have you found your Christian efforts leading to dysfunctional lifestyle patterns? Describe how.
- Does the idea of attempting to do the right thing when you are actually on the wrong road resonate with you?
- When you search your motives, do you find that you are trying to please Christ, or do you find instead that you are attempting to earn your Christianity?
- How does the following comment relate to your life: "I segregated myself—splitting my soul into two segments: one that would openly serve Jesus and one that would secretly protect myself. I became like people I deemed my-kind-of-godly instead of becoming like Jesus. I pursued Christian success instead of pursuing Christ."
© 2009 Cook Communications Ministries. Christianish: What If We're Not Really Following Jesus at All? by Mark Steele. Used with permission. May not be further reproduced. All rights reserved.
Christianish: What If We're Not Really Following Jesus at All? by Mark Steele
David C Cook/August 2009/ ISBN 978-1-4347-6692-2/288 pages/softcover/$14.99


text:
Note: For other types of AppleCare agreements, go to How to find your AppleCare registration number.
To register your recently purchased AppleCare Xsan Support Agreement, you will need your registration number. To find this number, check inside your AppleCare Xsan Support Agreement box or envelope for a booklet called "Getting Started." To the right of these words is your registration number:
Note: If you do not have the retail box or cannot find the card or booklet inside, contact AppleCare Agreement Support with your original receipt (or purchase order) and the serial number of the Xsan product that the agreement covers.
Learn more
After you find your registration number, you can activate your agreement online at AppleCare Agreement Support.
Apple registration numbers and Apple hardware product serial numbers may sometimes contain the number "0" (zero), but not the letter "O".

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Advanced Search
Mobility | Feature
With cost concerns squeezing districts out of 1-to-1 computing programs, a once unthinkable solution is now in play: allowing students to bring their own laptops, PDAs, and—heaven help us—cell phones.
At Empire High School in Vail, AZ, every student has a laptop, a fully loaded MacBook supplied free of charge—to the student, at least—courtesy of the Vail School District. "We provide the entire experience," says Vail CIO Matt Federoff.
The 1-to-1 program is a cornerstone of Vail's Beyond Textbooks initiative, whose goal is an all-digital curriculum. So facing the decision on whether to expand the program to another of its high schools, Cienega, the district made the obvious choice: No way.
"At 900 bucks a pop, we can't provide a laptop to every kid at every one of our high schools," Federoff says. "Economically, that's not sustainable for us. We can do it for 850 kids at Empire. We can't do it for 2,000 kids at Cienega."
But the district was in no mood to dial back on its push toward digital content, or widen the hallowed ratio of one computer per student. So Federoff and his group gathered to brainstorm alternatives. "We were thinking, 'What are some other models?'" Federoff says. "We have a high school that is 1-to-1 where we give you the widget. Well, what if you bring the widget? A lot of our kids have their own laptops. What if we leveraged these devices to see if they can be used for instruction? Is that better or worse, or somewhere in the middle? We chose a handful of classes and a few teachers just to see how it would pan out, if it was a practical solution."
In July, Vail launched a bring-your-own-laptop program at Cienega High in about a dozen classes. The program, Federoff stresses, is still in its trial phase. "It's purely an experiment," he says. "Right now we're feeling our way through it."
So far, feedback has been mixed, according to Federoff. Such niggling interferences as scheduling difficulties and getting the students to actually bring the devices to class have muddled the effort.
"I don't know if it's better, but the alternative would be nothing," Federoff says. "We wouldn't have a device at all. If nothing else, bring-your-own-laptop has enabled dozens and dozens of students access to technology in the classroom they otherwise wouldn't have."
It may be an imperfect approach—marked by labor-intensive infrastructural and logistical tasks—but allowing students to bring their own computing devices to class may be the inevitable solution for districts that are under ever-constricting budgets but want to preserve a technology-enhanced education. It's not just student-owned laptops that schools are opening up to, but any web-enabled device, including PDAs, iPod Touches, and cell phones. Not too long ago this would have struck many educators as a deal with the devil, to invite such potential chaos into the classroom. But now it only seems sensible, or as Don Manderson, technology coordinator of Florida's Escambia County Schools, says simply, "just the right thing to do."
"We'd like to have the best student-to-computer ratio that we possibly can," says Manderson as his district aims for the launch of a student-owned-devices program later this school year. "We certainly can't afford 1-to-1. Our districtwide ratio is 3-to-1, 4-to-1, but we'd like to do better than that. When there are many devices out there owned by students that could help to fill that void of computers, and they're perfectly functional and they could be helping the instructional process, I don't know how much longer it'll be viable to say no."
Ready for Rollout
Escambia is now near completing what is the central technical challenge of permitting the use of student-owned computing tools. It has taken the district two years to establish a guest "path" on the district network for student-owned devices that routes them through a web filter and on to the internet for study resources, but keeps them away from sensitive areas on the network meant only for staff and faculty.
"They can't get to our network operating system or mapped drives, or any other repositories of information that exist inside our firewall," Manderson says. "They go straight out the firewall, through the content filter, and out to the internet. That's all they can do."
The last component of the work has been the installation of FreeRADIUS, an open source RADIUS (remote authentication dial-in user service) server that will act as a gatekeeper to Escambia's secured network.
"We don't want a device that a student brings in with who-knows-what kind of hacking materials on it to be able to get to that network," he says. "Right now it would have access to the network because we don't have a login requirement. Until that is in place, we're postponing the rollout of the student appliances in the schools."
Manderson says that installing the server has been done in tandem with another painstaking procedural step. It took the district two years to craft an addendum to its acceptable use policy (AUP) that lays out the parameters for the use of student-owned devices. "We've been very careful to define precisely what the limitations are and what the terms of use are," he says, "and what the terms of termination of the ability to use them are."
Manderson says this emphasis on identifying restrictions runs counter to the way acceptable use policies are now generally written. Two years ago he attended a conference session on drafting AUPs and learned that the trend was toward "defining expectations rather than defining what's not allowed." He says an orthodox approach suits the conservative community in which the district resides. "The policy may not be progressive, but the initiative is," he says.
The Escambia policy actually could be seen as a transgression of Florida state law, which Manderson says forbids cell phones from use in school except for emergency purposes. When is a cell phone not a cell phone? According to the Escambia AUP, when it's being used to get on the internet.
"The acceptable use policy treats the cell phone, if it's internet enabled, as an internet appliance," Manderson says. "If you're using it as an internet appliance and you're not using Skype or something like that to make a phone call, then I guess that would be acceptable use. But if you begin to use any cellular capabilities, including texting and instant messaging, then you would be in the area of inappropriate conduct."
Equal Access, Unequal Tools
Crafting a policy to govern student-owned devices shows how troublesome it can be to bring so many disparate appliances under one standard. Things could get even thornier in the classroom, where a teacher may face a class of 30 students in which five have iPod Touches, five have laptops, five have PDAs, and five have old-school clamshell phones.
"If a teacher sends out a PDF study sheet, there may be kids with [appliances] that don't support PDFs as attachments," says Richard Doherty, co-founder and director of Envisioneering, a technology consulting group based in Seaford, NY. "Until issues like that are resolved, teachers and IT directors will be learning as they go, sending out two different formats of a file if necessary."
That scenario is also imagined by Karen Greenwood Henke, a Pasadena, CA-based ed tech consultant. "It would be frustrating for a teacher to find an amazing video on the internet that kids could see on their smartphones, but only half the students have phones that can play video," she says. "And of those, five need instruction on how to make their media player work."
So how can a consistent lesson be devised that allows every make and model of machine to participate? It's a top-of-mind concern for Vail's Federoff, who worries that the need to accommodate the capabilities of every device will force the teacher to simplify a lesson.
"The primary problem is, What does the teacher aim for?" he says, noting that this is one area where district-supplied machines have an advantage. "At Empire, if you provide the laptops, you know what applications [are installed], you know what the kids are capable of doing—you can ask everyone to make a movie. If the students bring the laptops, it gets trickier because you don't have a consistent tool set to aim for. My fear is you begin to go for the lowest common denominator: What do I know all the kids can do consistently? That actually isn't terribly exciting."
Vail's technology coordinator, Kevin Steeves, who also teaches ecology at Cienega High School, says Microsoft Excel, for example, isn't feasible because teachers have no assurance that every student will bring a laptop loaded with Excel. One application they can count on and therefore use liberally is the content management tool Moodle.
"That's a resource that no matter what laptop you have, you can access it," Steeves says. "The other thing we use a lot of is Google Apps. If teachers have a writing assignment, they'll focus on using Google Apps because they know all students have access to it."
One universal solution may have just entered North America six months ago. Norway-based ed tech provider It's Learning has just introduced to the US market a learning platform by the same name that can deliver educational materials for use on any web-enabled computing device, according to company president Jon Bower.
"It runs on the browser—it's not an app," he explains. "It runs beautifully on a Palm. It runs fine on a BlackBerry. It runs on an iPod. It runs on a PC, it runs on a Mac. It runs happily on an Xbox 360—in the browser. It is broadly device-independent, and it allows you to deliver content from just about any publisher."
The "real magic" of the platform, Bower believes, is its integration into a learning management system, which allows teachers to create their own learning materials that can then be delivered "seamlessly" with published third-party content to the students via their mobile devices. "That's how you get to really individualize the instruction process," he says.
Bower adds that It's Learning is well established abroad, used by more than 20 publishers to deliver their materials to European primary and higher education students. He says that in its short time in the US, the product is finding its target audience: "It's concentrated in schools that are highly focused on improving outcomes."
Are Netbooks the Answer?
Even if a cross-device platform makes its way into the classroom, that still doesn't resolve the question of what to do with those left out: the five kids in the class who have neither a Palm, an iPod Touch, a laptop, nor any web-enabled device whatsoever.
One answer is to keep spares on hand. Virginia's Hampton City Schools is currently conducting an experimental program at some of its middle schools in which students are creating videos with the use of their own video cameras. Any student who doesn't own a camera can check out one of the new video-enabled iPod Nanos the district has purchased. According to Director of Technology Georgianna Skinner, the district is hoping to have the same kind of store of reserve machines on hand when it implements a bring-your-own-devices initiative in the 2010-2011 school year.
The program comes on the heels of the termination of the district's 1-to-1 laptop plan, which Skinner says had to be scrapped because maintenance on the machines had become too pricey. "We had come to the point where we either had to refresh the laptops or we had to stop it," she says. "We had good results, but it was so expensive that we had to back off it. It was very disappointing."
Providing spares, though, for even just a portion of a 22,000-student enrollment won't come all that cheap. "Surveys have told us that about 80 percent of our homes have internet access, so we're looking to fill in the 20 percent that don't," Skinner says. "What we're looking for is the least expensive device that will do what we need it to do."
Netbooks would seem to best fit that description; at around $400, they're cheaper than issuing textbooks to a student, which runs more toward $600 to $1,000 for four years of high school. Vail's Federoff, however, thinks the device that will erase the digital divide is still out there. "Netbooks are close," he says. "There's some middle ground between an iPod Touch and a laptop. Somebody's going to create that device and that's going to be a transformative moment."
Federoff ultimately sees a solution he compares to "a school-bus model," where the school offers a baseline machine but allows students to bring their own if they wish. "At some point we're going to provide a device that lets kids get to digital content, and it will have a consistent tool set and a consistent experience. We don't know what that device is; it hasn't been invented yet. What we'll say to the kids is, 'Okay, that's what you get.' If a kid's got a box that can do better, the kid can bring it. Kind of like, if you can drive yourself to school, you can—or you can ride the bus."
Until that day arrives, Manderson says that the availability of student-owned devices actually helps equalize the classroom experience for all by freeing up whatever amount of school-owned devices there are. "For every child who is able to bring a device to school, it makes another device available that the district provides," he says, noting that his district has a large number of economically disadvantaged students who don't own computing devices.
"They're going to benefit by more technology being available, or perhaps benefit by being in a group of four or five students where somebody brought their own device," he says. "Perhaps that device could potentially act as the conduit out to the web at large to get information for a group. So it could benefit more than just the owner of the piece of equipment.
"I just don't see how we can, for a whole lot longer, simply deny the presence of a device that could enhance and expand the instructional process for no real good reason, other than we're just not sure about what would happen. And I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try it."
This article originally appeared in the January 2010 issue of THE Journal.
Sign up for our newsletter.
I agree to this site's Privacy Policy.
All Webcasts
The public cloud is not a panacea that solves all IT problems—or addresses all future needs. IDC research shows that leading organizations are opting for hybrid IT environments, mixing cloud and on-premises resources to maximize agility, performance and scalability. With hybrid, organizations can customize to fit their strategy and adapt to the accelerated rate of change.
Read more...
All Whitepapers


text:
The keenly-awaited first act of the KiteFoil GoldCup kicks off in just two weeks with the planet's leading racers honing their skills and tuning equipment in preparation for what is sure to be an utterly engrossing contest.
With southern Italy's rolling Calabrian hills framing the blue Mediterranean race track, the riders from all corners of the globe will line-up on the warm, flat waters off Gizzeria's party-fuelled Hang Loose Beach.
The venue — with its reliable summer thermal winds that regularly hit 15kts to 18kts — is fast becoming a favourite for the racers, many of whom are returning to do battle again following last year's exhilarating International Kiteboarding Association (IKA) GoldCup tour stop.
The Monegasque rider Maxime Nocher, who proved peerless over four days of hard-fought racing last July and went on to triumph in the KiteFoil GoldCup series, will again be on the starting line.
But since the Formula kite class has now essentially been transformed into a hydrofoil discipline, most of the highly-accomplished racers who had previously focused on course boards have switched their attention solely to foils.
None more so than Britain's Olly Bridge, 18, who demonstrated his ability to learn fast at the first stop of the Hydrofoil Pro Tour in La Ventana, Mexico, and the kitefoil European Championships in Sardinia, where he snatched the second podium spot, growing quicker and more consistent as the event progressed.
Only Nocher on his F-one Diablo foil kites and Taaroa Sword2 hydrofoil outpointed the British teenager riding for Northkiteboarding, but using a Levitaz Aspect Bionic hydrofoil and Elf foils kites.
Spain's Florian Trittel will also be a force to be reckoned with on his KFA hydrofoil and Elf Joker kites after his increasingly-assured performances as the Europeans reached their thrilling climax, earning him the third podium spot.
With World Sailing's decision not to bar a number of riders who participated in prohibited IFKO events, the stage is now set for leading French racers Axel Mazella and Julien Kerneur — who placed second and third last year — to enter the fray. Compatriot Nico Parlier, injured last year, is also eligible.
Yet the wild-card could still be Riccardo Leccese, the veteran Italian-Colombian racer. On his Ozone R1V2 foil kites and MikesLab hydrofoil he dedicated himself to foil racing last year and placed fifth overall in the GoldCup Italy stop and fourth in this year's Europeans after a blistering start where he racked up numerous bullets.
For the women the battle is bound to be tight in the warm breezes of southern Italy in July. Multiple Formula world champion Britain's Steph Bridge has the pedigree and clinched the Italy GoldCup win last year, trumping Russia's Elena Kalinina.
But the reigning Formula world champion Kalinina, just 18, repaid the compliment at the recent kitefoil Europeans, besting her old foe to grab the top podium spot. Bridge admitted she has yet to fine tune her riding in the new foiling environment if she is not to see her teenage rival disappear into the distance.
For riders and spectators who will pack the weekend beach for the Sunday showdown finale of the opening IKA GoldCup stop, it will inevitably be an enthralling encounter.


text:
Product Description
Gluten free garlic and parsley pasta spirals from Casalare. No artificial flavours, colours or preservatives.
Rice flour, potato starch, maize flour, tapioca starch, water, garlic powder, parsley powder, vegetable gum (405).
Note: Use only as directed by the physician. Incorrect use could be harmful. If symptoms persist, please consult your doctor/healthcare professional. Your healthcare professional will advise you whether this product is suitable for your condition. Don't use this product for children without doctor's advice.


text:
Deep Purple Colleagues Fondly Remember Jon Lord
As tributes to Deep Purple keyboardist Jon Lord continue to pour in, his former band mates in the legendary British hard rock ensemble are remembering their fallen colleague, who passed away Monday (June 16) from a pulmonary embolism after a long battle with pancreatic cancer. Lord was 71.
"He was my hero," vocalist Ian Gillan told Planet Rock Radio on Monday. The singer fondly recalled his friend's sense of humor, sharing the story of the time an excited fan rushed up to Lord after recognizing him in an airport, getting so exited that he blurted, "Ah, Jon Lord, Jon Lord . . . I'm your hero!" Lord calmly replied, "Oh, so you're King Arthur."
"That was typical Jon," Gillan said. "He was the most amazing character, and I suppose the Godfather of Deep Purple. We all looked up to him with tremendous admiration. If there was such a thing as a typical English gentleman in rock music, it was Jon Lord."
Guitarist Steve Morse agrees. "He always had a regal, gentlemanly manner," Morse recalled in a statement. "His humor was right up my alley, with us exchanging ridiculous thoughts like, 'If Brenda Lee married Tommy Lee, her new name would be Brenda Lee.'" Morse also related the time Lord charmed Morse's then-five-year-old son with a Donald Duck imitation as he was being rushed from a dressing room to a meet and greet.
As far as Lord's musical influence, Morse said, "Jon was the powerhouse keyboard player that brought rock and classical directly together many times."
Bassist Roger Glover also weighed in, saying, "It's unthinkable that Jon is gone. My thoughts are for his wife Vicky and all his children and family at this sad moment in their lives. I wish them all strength. A great sadness and sense of loss hangs over me. Not only has the music world lost a fantastic musician but a gentleman of the finest order. He was a giant in my life, a great friend, a fellow traveler, a teacher, not only of music, but of life. I am devastated at his passing."
Former Deep Purple guitarist Ritchie Blackmore shared his own memories of Lord in a statement Tuesday. "Jon was not only a great musician, he was my favorite dinner companion.
"We are all deeply saddened. We knew he was sick but the word was that he was recovering and doing much better. This news came as a complete shock.
"Without Jon there would be no Deep Purple. He lives on in our hearts and memories."


text:
Grand jury indicts man charged in death of Adrian Peterson's son
SIOUX FALLS, S.D. — A Lincoln County grand jury has indicted Joey Patterson on second-degree murder and manslaughter charges in the beating death of an NFL star's young son.
Joey Patterson, 27, is accused of beating 2-year-old Tyrese Robert Ruffin on Oct. 9 in the south Sioux Falls apartment he shared with the boy's mother.
Ruffin was the son of Minnesota Vikings running back Adrian Peterson, who'd only recently learned about him. The NFL MVP said last week that he'd met the boy for the first time while he was on life support, but had planned to meet Ruffin later this year.
Patterson, who was living with the boy and his mother, was indicted late Friday afternoon on charges of second-degree murder, first-degree manslaughter, aggravated battery of an infant and child abuse.
COURT DOCUMENTS:State v. Joseph R. Patterson
Second-degree murder carries a mandatory life sentence without the possibility of parole. The manslaughter charge is punishable by up to life in prison.
The grand jury heard testimony from two detectives and two doctors before signing off on the charges.
Wollman said the final autopsy results are not complete for Ruffin, but that there was enough evidence to proceed with new charges.
"We had preliminary reports to work with," Wollman said.
Ruffin spent two days in intensive care before his death. Patterson had called 911 on Oct. 9 to report a choking, but doctors soon concluded that Ruffin's injuries were not accidental.
Patterson was charged with aggravated assault and aggravated assault on an infant before the child's death, and a judge ordered him held on a $750,000 cash bond.
Patterson's arraignment date has not been set yet.
Hult also writes for the Argus Leader


text:
0 New volkswagen-e-golf Tracy California
Sorry, no exact matches were found
You can modify your search criteria and try again. Otherwise you can use our Auto Finder to be notified of new matches by email or call our sales team at (209) 207-0749 for help locating the perfect fit at!
Here are some other vehicles you may be interested in:
Just let us know what you're looking for and we'll email you as soon as it arrives!
Right Price – Our most competitive offer right from the start! We scan our market using state of the art technology powered by vAuto Live Market View to ensure our cars our priced at our most competitive offer. Additionally, we offer a no pressure sales environment where we have non commissioned product specialists on staff who focus on educating our customers so they can make an informed decision.
The vAuto Pricing Tool's Web-based interface allows Tracy Volkswagen to compare every car in their inventory against identically equipped vehicles in their market. Tracy Volkswagen uses a 50 mile radius to determine its' market pricing.*These estimates reflect new EPA methods beginning with 2008 models. Your actual mileage will vary depending on how you drive and maintain your vehicle. Actual mileage will vary with options, driving conditions, driving habits and vehicle's condition. Mileage estimates may be derived from previous year model.
Terms and Conditions: Prices do not include government fees and taxes, any finance charges, any dealer document processing charge, any electronic filing charge, and any emission testing charge. Subject to prior sale. *
*Although every reasonable effort has been made to ensure the accuracy of the information contained on this site, absolute accuracy cannot be guaranteed. This site, and all information and materials appearing on it, are presented to the user "as is" without warranty of any kind, either express or implied, including but not limited to the implied warranties of merchantability, fitness for a particular purpose, title or non-infringement. All vehicles are subject to prior sale. Not responsible for typographical errors.


text:
Forget surveillance cameras – what if our world were filled with always-on electronic noses tuned to detect all manner of contraband at minute concentrations? Drugs, explosives, air pollution, all of them could be monitored continuously, creating a "smell portrait" of the entire planet, and making it virtually impossible to conceal the trace odour of many legal and illegal substances.
That's the vision of scientists who work on electronic noses, and now, thanks to the silkmoth, the world's most sensitive electronic nose for explosives was recently demonstrated in the lab. One thousand times more sensitive than comparable devices, it consists of a tiny, vibrating cantilever coated in a forest of titanium dioxide nanotubes that were inspired by similar structures on the antennae of silkmoths.
Male silkmoths can detect females at distances of 5-10 kilometres (3-6 miles), and can register as few as one or two molecules of their pheromone scent. Five years ago, Denis Spitzer of the defence-focused Institut Franco-Allemand de Recherches de Saint-Louis heard about the super-sensitive feats of the silkmoth and wondered whether this could be reproduced by a machine.
One of the keys to the moth's performance is that its antennae are covered with a carpet of tiny sensilla, or microscopic fibres. These sensilla give the moth's detection apparatus much greater surface area than they would otherwise have, which is important for detecting very small concentrations of volatile compounds. These sensilla inspired Spitzer to upgrade an existing solution to "smelling" compounds with silicon.
Cantilevers – which, under high magnification, look like tiny diving boards – are a tried and true method for detecting target substances in air. Coated with a substance to which target molecules will attach themselves selectively, driven by a piezoelectric actuator, these tiny silicon rectangles vibrate at a high frequency, and when a molecule of the target substance sticks to them, the frequency of their vibration changes.
By covering a typical cantilever with titanium dioxide nanotubes, Spitzer and his team were able to increase its surface area 100-fold, and multiply its sensitivity by a factor of 1,000.
"For me, this is bioinspiration, not biomimicry," says Spitzer. The moth detects molecules through a "lock and key" system in which individual molecules are caught by smell sensor receptors, which then activate neurons connected to the animal's brain. Spitzer's system works by a very different mechanism, but this insight from the physical structure of the moth's antennae proved to be a crucial one.
Currently, this electronic nose can detect traces of TNT and related compounds as low as parts per million or less, because the titanium dioxide coating likes to bond with molecules of these explosives. Spitzer estimates it will be 2-4 years before this system will make it into the real world, but he already has plans to test it outside the lab. Future research efforts will be aimed at making the device even more sensitive, as well as making it selective for a host of other compounds, including drugs and pollutants.
Ultimately, notes Spitzer, this sensor's real competition will be the drug and bomb-sniffing dogs employed by law enforcement the world over. Presently, no electronic system is more sensitive than a well-trained sniffer dog, but Spitzer thinks that he can create something that will be as sensitive as these animals, while overcoming their one shortfall: after an hour, a dog's nose becomes saturated with the target substance, making them less useful.
"This kind of detector can work continuously," says Spitzer. "The principle is that it's reusable. You just heat the system and the TNT goes away."
Ultra-sensitive, continuously operating, and as cheap to mass-produce as current silicon microchips, that's the sort of device that will transform the surveillance state into one which can see, hear – and smell.
If you would like to comment on this article or anything else you have seen on Future, head over to our Facebook page or message us on Twitter.


text:
Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas – The Introduction Script
The Introduction Script by Klaydoggy
Version: 2.0 | Updated: 01/15/08
Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas
The Introduction Script
As shown on the two-disc soundtrack with the bonus DVD.
by: Klaydoggy
Modified: 1/15/08
Just a few notes before I start.
This, and all GTA related property are copyrighted and
owned by Rockstar Games.
I got all the dialogue by watching the DVD with subtitles on
and typing it out.
If any corrections need to be made, email me at:
If you would like to use this on your site:
Email me at email@example.com. I'm not going to be all "you MUST ask my
permission FIRST!" because that wouldn't really stop anyone.. so I'll ask
politely that you email me and ask if you can use it on your site. I'll
most likely say yes, on the terms you put my name on the credit for it.
Also, it helps me keep track of where my FAQs go. And as always, if you
feel I have made a typo, or got something wrong, please let me know.
the "---"'s followed by any text are in the movie as screens
with just those words on them. Like when the movie starts
all you see is a black screen with "Los Santos" on it.
Enough of my crap, onto the goods.
Enjoy, and as always.. Long Live GTA!
---Los Santos
(Walking out of a house towards the police car)
Frank Tenpenny: I knew that fat fuck would see it our way.
Eddie Pulaski: Yeah, always do, once they understand the choices
we're offering. Say Frank, what the hell we gonna do about this
Hernandez coming on board with us?
Tenpenny: Exactaly the same thing as last time. He's either gonna
play our way, or he's gonna have a problem like that oversized
asshole back there. Look, I ain't worried about that, Pulaski,
Pendelbury is more of a concern. If he does what he's threatening,
then shit's about to get real interesting.
Pulaski: Yeah. Hey Frank, how about passing me a smoke?
(They drive off)
(Cuts to some Balla's smoking in a driveway)
Balla 1: Hey, lemme hit some of that, homie.
Balla 2: For sure, homie.
Balla 1: Man, what's this cess bullshit? Man, you ain't got nothing real
to smoke?
Balla 2: That ain't cess, homie. That's that hydro.
Balla 1: Man, whatever!
Balla 2: Man, you sure about this thing?
Balla 1: Man, I'm telling you, dude, Grove Street's gone to shit, man.
They done.
Balla 2: But we copping off of one of they O.G.s man. You sure this is
cool, or this some kinda trap?
Balla 1: Be cool, man. And if anyone tries shit... (Pulls out his gun)
we blast 'em.
Balla 2: For sure.
Balla 1: Man, Grove Street ain't even no real gang no more, homie. They
perpetrators, now they even know it. Shit changes. And this shit (pulls
out drugs) changes everybody, man. Even O.G.s want a slice of this...
and loyal customers.
Balla 2: Guess you're right. That shit changes everything, don't it.
Balla 1: For sure. Let's bounce, homie.
(Cut to inside Ryder's house. Ryder is ironing)
Ryder: The way I see it, man, I need to be in charge of my destiny,
Big Smoke: This way you will be, homie. This is all about destiny.
You know I got your back, right homie?
Ryder: Cool. How my shit look, fool?
Smoke: Yeah, yeah, it's cool. Now, the way I see it is that we don't
have a choice. Ain't nothing to feel bad about. You put a gun to a
brother's head, brother's gonna do what he's told, no matter if he's
a fool or a wise man. You don't want a bullet in the brain, but if
you can make it work and make some benjamins while you at it, then
that's cool.
Ryder: It's gonna take more than a bullet in the head to stop me.
Smoke: I don't doubt that, homie.
---San Fierro
(In an abandoned lot)
T-bone Mendez: (beating the crap out of some guy) You gonna tell
me right now, homie. Tell me! You better tell me what I want to
Mike Toreno: Hey Mendez! (Mendez stops) Come on, enough.
Mendez: Punk ass. I think this vato's a fucking rat, ese. I can
smell it on him.
Toreno: I think that's something else we can smell. He ain't
going to talk now.
Mendez: So what do we do now, holmes?
Toreno: I think I got us a buyer down in Los Santos.
Mendez: Por cuanto, holmes? How much?
Toreno: Not sure, yet. But they're talking big. Up to a hundred
K's a month, low risk. (Toreno's phone rings, he answers and
T-bone goes back to work on the guy) Hello. Yeah. Yes. Yes,
you read it correctly. Well, I'm sorry it seems that way to you.
Yeah. No. Yes. It's unconventional, yes.
Mendez: (talking to half dead guy) Come on. Get off me, man.
Toreno: (Still in phone) Well, when did your methods ever get
results? When? Hey, I know people who are dead because of you,
so don't mess with me on this one, okay? It's vital that it goes
ahead. History will understand. (quietly) I've done a lot of
work, they trust me now. Yeah. No, you can't play with shit and
not get dirty. Everybody knows that. Even you, okay? Now look, I
gotta go. I gotta go. (back to Mendez who is still beating this
guy) Mendez! Now listen. That was a buyer. We gotta step up
production. We're not thinking big enough here, okay? My
connections in Panama can get is all the product we need, untouched!
But you've got to arrange the market. So why don't you stop dancing
with your boyfriend here and get on it, alright? Huh?
Mendez: Man, fuck it, man. (Toreno leaves) I'm gonna get this
piece of shit outta here. (To the now dead guy) You weigh a lot
for a fucking dead body, man
---Back in Los Santos
(Some Orange Grove members are playing craps)
Sweet Johnson: Baby needs diapers! (rolls dice)
All together: Oh!
Sweet: Shit!
Smoke: Hey, fool, we losing the streets, man.
Sweet: Nah. We just standing by our principles, homie.
Smoke: But our principles are making us bitches, man. Every day,
Ballas get stronger, and you and I get weaker. You and I get poorer,
Sweet: Man, that shit'll blow over. It always does.
Smoke: Oh whatever, man!
(Jeffrey, O.G. Loc walks right into the game)
Loc: Man, whoever heard of a gangster rapper called
Jeffrey, man?
Smoke: Hey Jeffrey, man, you're messing up the game, man!
Loc: O.G. Loc! Now that's a gangster name, man. Like Sweet, or
Big Smoke.
Smoke: Jeffrey, you ain't no gangster.
Sweet: Man, you ain't never put in no work for the set. You a
friend, but you ain't no gangster.
Loc: Man, I'm for real, homie. For real!
Sweet: Okay, cool! Now kick rocks, you messin' up my game.
Loc: You know what? I'm gonna prove to y'all how real I am.
Watch me!
Sweet: Jeffrey, go to college, man! Make something of yourself.
Me and the fat man, we messed our lives up. We fucked up in the
game, man. We products of the environment. Don't be a idiot, man.
Make us proud. Do shit different, baby.
Loc: But I'm a gangster rapper! It's my calling, homie!
Smoke: Look man, do whatever you want, but get the fuck outta here.
Sweet: (laughing) No, man, go be a gangster someplace else, baby.
Loc: (walking away) Forget y'all!
Smoke: (to Sweet) This ain't a playground craze, man. This is
the biggest money-making opportunity that guys like us will ever
Sweet: I got all the shit I need. Man, I thought we was in this
for the hood, not destroying the family, man. This Grove Street,
nigga. Roll the dice!
Smoke: Talking of holding families together, you heard from CJ
Sweet: We ain't speaking. He got his own life. More than he
Smoke: What-- what-- what, Brian been dead, what, five years now?
Sweet: Yeah, CJ have five years when he should have been dead.
Man, I lost two brothers, man. One got killed and one showed
himself, old perpetratin' ass bitch.
Smoke: You real gangsta, man, but you gotta lighten up. See, CJ,
Sweet: CJ running 'round like a fool on the east coast. He can
rot in hell for all I give a fuck.
---Liberty City
(Red Light District. Carl Johnson, CJ is walking around to
various cars trying to get into them, but they are locked.)
CJ: Damn, Shit!
(A car stops at a red light right next to CJ. He heads over
to the driver side door. Opens it quickly.)
Driver: (CJ lands a quick punch) Oh!
CJ: Get out of the car! (throws the driver to the street)
Driver: What the...
CJ: Out! Now! (get's in the car and peels out) (now driving
towards St. Marks area talking on a cell phone) Yo. Hey,
wassup, man? It's CJ. Yeah. I hear you. I never knew my dad,
but my brother used to make my life miserable. yeah, well,
that's what family for. Anyway, I got that thing you wanted.
Want me to shoot it by the garage? No, no. I gotta get this
thing off the street, man. It's way hot. All right, cool.
Later. (hangs up)
(cut to Salvatore Leone's office in his house in St. Marks)
Salvatore Leone: So, Johnny, you want five million dollars
of my money?
Johnny Sindacco: I want to help you make a fortune, Mr. Leone.
My father wants to unite our organizations.
Leone: The Sindaccos and the Leones? That's impossible. That's
been impossible since your associates whacked my cousin. Hey,
you know me. Business is business. The personal stuff is
nonsense. I'd like to see a way past this bullshit. Now where
were we?
Johnny: Uh, you was... seeing a way past this?
Leone: No, I was saying I'd like to, and you were asking me for
five million dollars. So, let me understand it. I go in on your
casino, take a third stake alone with your organization, and the
Forelli's, then I let you guys manage my investment for me?
Johnny: Bingo!
Leone: Yeah. Yeah. You must really think my mother, God rest
her soul, fucked an idiot instead of my father. Are you calling
my mother an idiot who goes with morons? (one of Salvatore's
bodyguards stands up and gets close to Johnny. Johnny gets up)
Johnny: No, of course not, Mr. Leone. I'm only making an offer.
Clearly, I misinterpreted your intentions here. Look, I humbly
apologize. Forgive me.
Leone: (Salvatore stands up, mad) Sit down or I'll slit your
throat myself! (Johnny sits) You little cocksucker. Ever
since Sonny Forelli got himself pasted all over Florida, you think
you run things in this town. You show me no respect. You insult
my family. Your father? He ain't fit to wipe my ass. I'd fuck
an elephant before I'd fuck your mother. How does that feel?
Johnny: Mr. Leone, I think you're just misunderstanding...
Leone: Hey, you're a good kid. Me, I'm just an old fool. What
do I know? Nothing, really. Actually, less than nothing. You
can have the money.
Johnny: We can?
Leone: If you give me control of the books.
Johnny: Yeah, you see, we can't do that, Mister Leone.
Leone: Then, I meant it. Your mother's a fucking transvestite.
I got an idea. What about a third party? An independent guy.
He runs the place, and together we run him.
Johnny: We can't do that, Mr. Leone. We got our guy in there
Leone: Get rid of him. Show me exactly how much you want my
organization's involvement.
---Las Venturas
(Outside of the Fort Carson Medical Center)
(Ken Rosenberg walks out of the building, talking to himself)
Ken: I don't need a bump. I don't need a bump. I don't need
a bump. Coke is for the weak. Coke is for the weak. I am
strong. I am strong! Winners win and losers hit the rails and
nail hookers. I am in control of my own destiny! (sighs) I
need a job. I've been disbarred from the law. But I'm in
control. I've done it. I'm clean! I'm cleaner than a new
toilet seat. I don't need a bump! Ha! Ha! Ha... (starts
to hitchhike) I could use a ride. Ah, this sucks.
---Los Santos
(Tenpenny is on a cell phone outside a donut shop leaning on
their police car)
Tenpenny: Listen to me, son. I don't give a fuck about you, I
don't give a fuck about your principles, I don't give a fuck
about your friends. People who get in my way get fucked with.
Now, you got paid. You took the money. (Pulaski comes toward
the car from the donut place) I'm trying to set you up for life
here, boy, and you're inadequate. You're no use to me at all,
boy. Maybe I should kill you instead? (To Eddie) Eddie,
organize a hit squad.
Pulaski: Not a problem.
Tenpenny: (back into the phone) You hear that? You feelin' me
here? You about to wake up with your head fifty feet away from
your body, son. Do what we agreed. Oh, you think you can put
one over on me? Do you? I don't think so. So do it! This week!
(hangs up the phone)
Pulaski: All good, pal?
Tenpenny: Pal? I'm your superior officer and don't you forget
that shit! But yeah, all good.
Pulaski: So is he gonna do it?
Tenpenny: Didn't I say it's all good? (they get into the car)
Pulaski: So we gonna go get the kid?
Tenpenny: Yeah. Let's initiate the little bastard onto the
(Cuts to a Slow shot following a green Sabre out of a garage)
(Then cuts back to Ken Rosenberg at a payphone in Las Venturas)
Ken: Ah, yes. Tommy Vercetti, please. Tell him Ken Rosenberg
called. Ken Rosenberg. You haven't heard of me? Who are you?
Ken Rosenberg. Rosenberg! Oh! Oh really? You told him I
called? Look, I made that ingrate, and now he won't take my
calls? Just put him on the phone right now! Hello? Hello?
Damn it! (hangs up)
---Salford, England
(Cuts to Kent Paul hanging up a phone, they are in a recording
Paul: I got the signature! I am now the proud and legal
manager of The Gurning Chimps. (To Maccer) You're mine, Maccer,
son. You're mine. Fifty grand it cost me to buy you out of your
contract. You're like a race horse or a great little sloshpot.
Guaranteed banker. This time, my son, this time!
Maccer: Fucking great, kiddo. Bowing in! Give us a hug!
Paul: Come here!
(they hug)
Maccer: I love you, lad. I love you. (still hugging) I've
never felt like this before.
Paul: Fantastic, son. A bit of emotion never hurt no one.
(still hugging) Err, great. (Paul lets go, Maccer still hugging)
Yeah, let me go now. You're sweating.
Maccer: Wow! These doves are blinding. I'm rushing me cock off!
Paul: How many have you done, then?
Maccer: Nineteen. Come on! Give it some! you got any B, Pablo?
Paul: No! (Maccer walks away, Paul quietly) Fifty grand for
this northern prick.
Maccer: America! America! I can't fucking wait!
---Liberty City
(CJ walking down an alley in the red light district. A man walks
by him going the other direction. CJ quickly turn around, pulls
out a pistol and shoves the man against the wall)
CJ: Give me your fucking money!
Man: All right, man. All right, man. (gives CJ his wallet)
Here, man. Here, man, take it.
CJ: (takes the wallet) Yeah.
Man: Come on, man, just don't shoot me.
CJ: (Hits the man in the head with the pistol, walks away) Punk
ass motherfucker!
(Scene cuts to the desert of San Andreas. Two men are digging)
Man 1: Hey, how's your woman?
Man 2: She's a ball buster. Ever since we moved to Venturas, all
she wants to do... spend, spend, spend. For Chrissakes, I got
better luck on the tables.
Man 1: Yeah, I hear you. Hey, give me a hand with this guy, will
Man 2: Yeah. (the digging stops, Man 1 walks over to a body
on the ground) I mean, why'd we whack Mickey anyhow? He was a stand
up guy.
Man 1: I dunno, something about money.
Man 2: Oh man. (getting out of the hole) What, he was on the take?
Man 1: Nah, he was kosher. A little too kosher. (They pick up the
body) That's why he had to go.
Man 2: Oh, I get it. (they pick the body up)
Man 1: Yeah, he was declaring too much money, so we gotta get a new
guy in. You know, I hear the Leones are lending the bosses some
Man 2: The Leones? (they put down the body on the ground)
Man 1: Yeah.
Man 2: Get the fuck outta here. We hate the Leones.
Man 1: I know. That's what I said to Johnny, but he said they
needed the money. (they kick the body into the hole)
Man 2: Buona notte,dirtball.
Man 1: So, Mickey gets capped, so we get a new guy in, who
everybody bullies. Then, when he misbehaves...
Man 2: We dig another hole. (goes to get the shovel)
Man 1: Exactly. Hey, you hear about Bobby back east?
Man 2: No, what?
Man 1: He's gone queer. Can you believe that shit?
Man 2: Oh Mother of Christ Almighty, I've seen everything!
Man 1: Minchia! (man 2 starts to cover up the body with dirt)
(Cut to Salvatore's office in St. Marks)
Johnny: (Walks in) So, we got a vacancy. We kept our end of
the bargain.
Leone: Then I guess we're on. You want something to drink?
Johnny: No, no, I'm good, thank you. So who's gonna run this
casino for us?
Leone: Hey, we're gonna need a real idiot. A guy we can all
push around. There's this lawyer, used to work for the Forellis
down in Florida. I heard he's sniffing around for a job. Just
got out of rehab or something.
Johnny: Yeah, that'll work.
Leone: I'll make a call.
Johnny: Great.
Leone: Hey... (they shake hands) Don't fuck this up, kid.
(Cuts to another slow shot of the green Sabre driving through
an alley)
(Then goes to Tenpenny and Pulaski in their police car parked
outside the Los Santos PD)
(Hernandez walks up to the car)
Pulaski: So you're the new kid, huh?
Hernandez: Yeah, been working on the streets three years though,
and I realize there is only one kind of crime in Los Santos...
gang crime. That's why I joined CRASH.
Pulaski: Get in the car, kid.
(Hernandez gets in the back, they start to drive)
Hernandez: I was called in on this domestic dispute case once.
You got this young kid, okay? Can't be more than twenty years
old, beating up his wife. So I figure, easy, right? No man hits
a woman. Well, it turns out this woman spends all day freebasing
and nearly let their kid starve to death. All right, so what do
I do? I could take this guy in, and leave a little kid with a
drug-addict mother, or I let a guy off with beating up his wife.
I mean, it's difficult out there.
Tenpenny: Domestic violence?
Hernandez: Yeah, yeah. Serious stuff, man.
Tenpenny: Yeah, I'm sure. Pulaski, pull over. (they pull over)
Well, I deal with drug dealers, gang bangers and psychotics, all
of them chasing after a lot of money, none of them scared to kill
me, you, or all our families, if they think it will help them.
Now this is a bit more serious than a domestic dispute, pal.
Hernandez: I didn't mean anything by it. I was just---
Tenpenny: I'm not really interested in what you meant to say.
See, what you said was you found a woman on drugs a difficult
situation. Now how the hell am I supposed to trust you if you're
so easily confused?
Hernandez: Look, I'm a good cop.
Tenpenny: This ain't about being a good cop, Pepe.
Pulaski: It's about taking control of the streets from the
fucking savages who've got it now!
Hernandez: I know!
Tenpenny: Then you'll do what it takes?
Hernandez: Yeah, whatever it takes!
Tenpenny: 'Cause this is a game of percentages, 24/7, 365. We're
just trying to screw as many bad guys as we can.
Hernandez: Yeah, I know.
Tenpenny: That means letting some bad guys get away with things.
Pulaski: And sometimes it means doing shit that you ain't proud
of, because you're strong enough and smart enough to understand
the bigger picture.
Hernandez: Look, I know.
Tenpenny: You don't know shit. Get the fuck out of the car, ese.
(Hernandez gets out)
(cuts to another shot of the greed Sabre driving down the street
in Ganton)
(cuts to Las Venturas, inside the Caligula's Palace casino office)
(Ken Rosenberg is sitting at the desk. Suddenly, Salvatore Leone
walks in with a bodyguard, angry)
Leone: Are you enjoying yourself, huh?
Ken: (getting up) N-no! I just-- you know, just getting a feel
for the place.
Leone: So this is the way it is. You're sitting here already,
having a good time. Me, five million in the hole to the Sindaccos,
and you not doing a thing about it? Huh?
Ken: No, not at all. I spoke with Johnny. He explained
Leone: Oh, you spoke with Johnny?
Ken: Yeah, he came by--
Leone: You spoke with him, huh?
Ken: Yeah!
Leone: Did you suck him off as well, you little fucking weasel?
You're my man, not his! I got a good mind to end this here and
now, you Judas, you rat!
Ken: Come on, sir! I thought that was the job.
Leone: Oh, you thought that was the job? Mike, (to bodyguard)
get the door.
(Mike shuts the door)
(Salvatore pulls a gun on Ken and grabs him)
Leone: I'm the job! Me and my money. And I want it back, and
I want it back fast. Johnny fucking Sindacco even so much as
blinks at you, I want to hear about it. You find a way to get
me my money and fast. Understood?
Ken: Yes! Yes! Understood! Understood.
(Salvatore puts the gun away, Ken sits down)
Leone: And cheer up. Have some fun around here. This is
supposed to be a casino, not a monastery. Christ, I've had more
fun taking a crap than I've had here. Come on, go get me a drink.
(Ken gets up) Smile, schmuck!
(Cuts to Los Santos, Pulaski is kicking a downed police officer,
Tenpenny and Hernandez are standing and watching)
Pulaski: (yelling) Who you gonna tell now?
Tenpenny: (stopping Pulaski) Eddie, chill out, man.
Pulaski: The prick's still breathing.
Tenpenny: That's good. Hernandez... finish him off. (offers
Hernandez a gun)
Hernandez: Come on. please. Don't make me do this!
Tenpenny: Say what?
Hernandez: I can't.
Tenpenny: Hey, I thought you understood.
Hernandez: He's a fucking cop, you maniac.
Pulaski: Not no more he ain't.
Tenpenny: We went over this. It's about percentages.
Hernandez: I know!
Tenpenny: So who's side you on, his or mine?
Hernandez: Yours, Frank! Yours!
Tenpenny: Then be a fucking man. You cap him, or I cap you.
(Hernandez takes the gun but is reluctant to shoot)
Pulaski: Come on, do it! Pull the trigger!
(Hernandez shoots the cop)
(cuts to another shot of the green Sabre driving down the
street Sweet's house is on. There are two Balla's in the car.
They circle around to CJ's and Sweet's mothers house and open
fire with a big drive-by. As they flee, an OGF member fires
at the car but doesn't get anyone.)
(Sweet rushes into the house)
Sweet: No! Oh shit! Hell!
(CJ's and Sweet's sister, Kendl runs toward the house)
Kendl: Oh Momma! Momma! No! No! No!
(Sweet comes back outside and stops her from going in)
Sweet: Come on, girl! Momma!
Kendl: No! Damn! Damn. No!
(Cuts to Kendl sitting on the front porch. Sweet is
standing above her talking on a phone)
Sweet: CJ, it's your brother.
CJ: (On the phone) Okay. What you want?
Sweet: I think you better come home. It's about Momma.
She's dead, bro.
(Cuts to CJ looking sad in a car, shaking his head)
---Welcome to San Andreas
The end.
View in:


text: I have recently been doing some web related stuff and I want to get started having some dynamic content. I can't decide whether to use PHP and MySQL or just write Apache modules. The job is pretty CPU intense so the module might be better for speed but PHP and MySQL really seem to know what they're doing when it comes to servers and I've heard a lot of good things about them. Which one of the two would you recommend? Would you recommend either?


text:
With Zeitgeist now tracking everything I really think we need a privacy mode like the one Firefox offers. There is a ridiculous amount of history and caches being stored in Ubuntu from thumbnails to file history.
And god forbid you install a KDE application in gnome, then you get even more file indexers and recently used tracking! Is there a way to clear everything? Even better would be a way to run the OS in a privacy mode that never even wrote to the disk. How can I disable all caching and thumbnailing and history in the OS? Firefox provides private browsing. IE only allows you to delete the cache when you close IE. Firefox wins! Can I get a private session in Ubuntu?
Also, my company would like to run Ubuntu off an SD card. Limiting the number of writes to update a cache, history or log would be a really good idea. Switching back and forth would be perfect. Right now Zeitgeist is working on a way to clear history, but come on, can we have an option to not write a history at all? Am I missing something here?


text:
I'd like a loop that will increment it so that when I add a document to a Directory, it'll also add that Document to the parent of the Directory, and add one to its parent, till it reaches the root Directory, then it stops.
Then I somehow need to add the names of each of these Documents to an ArrayList, or an array, -preferably an ArrayList, and return all the names with the Number of Documents.
However, since there could be at most 100 Documents in a Directory, how do I do it without having to create 100 arrays, 98 or which won't be used if I do and will return Null Pointer Exceptions?
/** * */ package Assignment3; /** * @author pradcoc *This is directory. It uses most of the parent methods, but has a toString() method *and since Object already has one, it's silly to make Document abstract for that. *It can add Documents and sets itself as the parent of those Documents. */ public class Directory extends Document { private int numOfDocs = 0; public Directory(String name, Directory parent) { super(name, parent); } // this is supposed to add a Document to a Directory, set that Directory as // the parent of the Document, unless the Document is the root directory, // and also add up from 0 the number of Documents it has in it. And I need // a way to return the names of the Documents in it too. public void add(Document doc) { // if the Document is a Directory if (doc instanceof Directory) { // if it's not the root directory if(doc.getParent() != null) { doc.setParent(this); numOfDocs = numOfDocs + 1; // adds one to this Directory's number of Documents doc.getParent().numOfDocs = doc.getParent().numOfDocs + 1; // should also add // one to parent Directory's number of Documents as well. Not quite working nicely. } // if it's the root directory else { doc.setParent(this); // sets this directory, the root directory, as the parent numOfDocs = numOfDocs + 1; // adds 1 to the number of Documents this Directory has } } else { if (doc.getParent().getParent() != null) { doc.setParent(this); doc.getParent().numOfDocs = doc.getParent().numOfDocs + 1; // doc.getParent().numOfDocs = doc.getParent().numOfDocs + 1; } else { doc.setParent(this); doc.getParent().numOfDocs = doc.getParent().numOfDocs + 1; } } } public int returnNumberOfDocs() { return(numOfDocs); } // my test program can set a parent, but it can't tell if a directory is a parent of another directory or file. }
I need a method called toString() that'll return the names of all the Documents in each Directory and the number of Documents in each Directory.
I know I could create an array of size numberOfDocumentsInDirectory and get it to return the names that way, but how do I do that for potentially 100 Documents in each Directory, all of which, I suppose, could be Directories?


text:
Dan Cook
The Manning School's newly launched Master of Science in Accounting (MSA) program has gotten off to a strong start, with first semester enrollment exceeding expectations.
Instead of the projected enrollment of 12, there are now 20 students in the 30-credit program, which is designed to prepare students for leadership roles in the accounting field and to sit for the CPA exam.
"The curriculum is tailored in such a way that students with a wide variety of business skills can be successful," says Prof. Khondkar Karim, coordinator of the program.
Six countries are represented in the student body, another sign of the University's growing international population. Nearly half of the students in the program earned their undergraduate degrees at UMass Lowell. The average GMAT score of the class was 590 and the average undergraduate GPA was 3.45, Karim says.
"These numbers will definitely be on the rise," he says. "Having a diverse curriculum and committed staff will help to bring in more applicants."
MSA student Jagdish Dave sees the program in a similar light.
"I did my research and I saw such a great depth of knowledge from the professors and within the class work that I knew it would help me to reach my goals," he says.
After moving to the U.S. from India seven years ago, Dave was searching for a master's program that would allow him to realize his dream of becoming a professor without interrupting his full-time work schedule. UMass Lowell was a perfect fit.
Due to the large number of MSA students juggling full or part-time employment with their courses, every class is offered online in addition to the blended versions including both classroom and online learning.
"I have two blended courses this semester and I really enjoy them," said Dave. "I'm getting knowledge from many different angles."


text:
Slow cooked beans and chicken casserole
July 27, 2014
Its been a rainy day.Its been a rainy week. The only thing to do on this kind of day is to put something on the fire to stew slowly and fill the house with its aroma while listening to music and reading. The anticipation of a warm, filling dinner makes the monsoon greys less dreary.
So out comes the latest cook pot, a handmade ceramic dutch oven which is unusual because it is flame proof , withstanding direct heat on the stove top and if necessary can be popped in the oven too.
Since I have friends from Mexico staying I thought the following dish would give them a taste of home.
This is a nice for solar cooking too .
125 gms dried mixed beans, (kidney beans, chick peas, black eyed beans, green peas) , rajmha, kabuli channa, green peas,black beans, chawlai
1/2 tablespoon vegtable oil
1 small red onion, finely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 green or red chilli
1 large green pepper/simla mirchi, cut into 1/2 in pieces
3 tomatoes , pulped into juice in a blender
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1/2 tablespoon chilli sauce
1 chicken bouillon cube or 1/2 cup chicken stock
1 teaspoon brown sugar
200 gms minced chicked
- Wash and soak the dried beans in 500 ml of boiling hot water for an hour. Drain.
- Heat the oil and fry the garlic and chilli for a minute. Add the onion and saute till golden brown.
- Add the green pepper bits and saute for a few minutes.
- Add the pulped tomatoes, chilli sauce, vinegar, sugar and salt. Cook for five minutes.
- Add the beans and 400 ml water to the pot and cooked on very low heat for 3 hours. You can use a heat diffuser under the pot if necessary.
- Add the minced chicken and mix to seperate the bits. Cook for another hour.
- Garnish with grated cheese and chopped coriander.
Eat with crusty bread or a warmed tortilla. Delicious!


text:
The Dark Side of a Cosmopolitan and Liberal Society
Politicians and the media have only just begun sounding the alarm again that Germany is under threat from a wave of poor immigrants of Romanian and Bulgarian origin, most of them Romani. On 19 February 2013, for example, the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung headlined with a story on how Germany's social harmony is now under threat.
In the light of this populist propaganda, Miltiades Oulios, an author specialising in the subject of the immigration society, must feel that his theses are being confirmed, namely that foreigners in Germany are only welcome if they are financially "useful"; that some are welcome, and some are not, and those who are not are criminalised and stigmatised as a result; and that this still applies first and foremost to Romani people, although improving their situation is actually on the EU agenda.
Oulios surprises anyone who reads his book Blackbox Abschiebung. Geschichten und Bilder von Menschen, die gerne geblieben wären (Black Box Deportation. Stories and images of people who would like to have stayed) with quite a different perspective on Romanies. For him, the Romani people actually represent "genuine Europeans" because they see themselves as a people that transgresses the borders of nation states and also because – unlike some other migrant groupings – they resist the threat of deportation with coordinated campaigns. For example, as part of the campaign "Alle bleiben" (everyone stays), which was conceived by the Romani Centre in Göttingen, a mass e-mail was sent out on 1 April 2012 announcing the introduction of a European Romani nationality.
In Black Box Deportation, the fate of the Romani people again forms one of many facets surrounding the issue of deportation, some of which are actually quite ludicrous. The book is an offshoot of the eponymous exhibition, which opened in 2011 and toured 20 German cities, making the stories of people who have been deported audible and visible.
It is indeed the case that people are still being deported on a daily basis from Germany, which finally began perceiving itself as a country of immigration in the year 2000. Some of the people who are being deported were born here and some have lived here for 10 or 15 years.
Deportation: the invisible phenomenon
Most Germans are aware that deportations occur, but few actually know people who have been deported or who are threatened with deportation. Even fewer people know what deportation is really all about. As far as Miltiades Oulios is concerned, it is in the state's interest to perpetuate this ignorance: deportation should not be visible, because it conflicts with the self-image of a society that presents itself as cosmopolitan and liberal.
According to Oulios, this makes deportation something of a black box. In other words, deportation only works in an environment of intransparency. This is why Oulios would like his book, which he sees as a kind of monograph on the issue of deportation, to shed some light on the obscurity of the practice. Just how cogent are our reasons for forcibly ejecting people from a country? What purpose do deportations serve in a globalized society? On what basis does the state claim the right to curtail the right of people to move around freely and to make a place their home? These are just some of the questions the writer attempts to answer.
Basing his research on the personal stories of those who also featured in the exhibition, Oulios provides the reader with related facts and figures. What, for example, is the cost of a deportation for the person who is being deported? How many people die while in detention awaiting deportation? He outlines the history of deportation and questions terminology such as "voluntary" departure or "Ausreisezentrum" (departure centre), which the German Language Society declared to be one of the misnomers of the year 2002.
He visits people in deportation centres, people who are detained like criminals in prisons sometimes for two or three months. He talks to what are known as "deportation monitors", who ensure that deportation by air does not end with any fatalities if force has to be applied for any reason.
Oulios says that when this kind of thing happens, the shock and horror it triggers primarily leads opponents of deportation to criticise the practice exclusively from a human rights point of view instead of from a civil rights point of view. Oulios views this as a fatal error.
The autonomous slogan "Deportation is torture, deportation is death" misses the point, he says: "Not because it says anything that is essentially wrong, but because it says too little. And above all, because it repeats the discourse of racism, without mentioning the notion of civil rights, which takes the issue into a more complex dimension."
Harbingers of a global republic
For this reason, Oulios is calling for a revised notion of civil rights that affords migrants the right to freedom of movement and the right to a place to live – for the simple reason that migration is a fait accompli that does not allow itself to be hamstrung by state-imposed measures of control, be they ever so rigid.
He also calls for a change of mindset, namely that migrants are not seen as objects and victims, but as resistant political subjects whose very existence creates a new right. "The revolutionary aspect of migration," says Oulios "is ... not just that it changes the makeup of the population and challenges the self-image of the nation state; the revolutionary aspect of migration is that it necessitates an amendment to the legal framework and puts the formal recognition of cosmopolitan civil rights firmly on the political agenda."
Oulios is of the opinion that when a state continues to deport as a deterrent and to demonstrate its apparent sovereignty, this only amounts to an admission, to a confession that it is anything but sovereign, because it cannot control the migrants who arrive on its shores.
Oulios elevates the status of all those who are deported to harbingers of a global republic that is still taking shape. Freedom of movement and the freedom to travel would be indispensable insignia of such a republic and the testing ground for the further development of a sustainable idea of democracy in the twenty-first century.
As far as Oulios is concerned, this is about putting nothing less than the institutionalisation of forms of world citizenship on the agenda. At the moment, this is still a vision for the future. But for now, Black Box Deportation provides all those committed to realising such a dream with provocative and urgently needed food for thought.
Claudia Kramatschek
© Qantara.de 2013
Miltiades Oulios: Blackbox Abschiebung. Geschichten und Bilder von Menschen, die gerne geblieben wären, published by Suhrkamp.
Editor: Aingeal Flanagan/Qantara.de


text:
longchamp outlet florence oregon Official
Pretty Cheap Longchamp Le Pliage Large Handbag Loden
Longchamp outlet berlin rabatt 12 information on This well super anti-Oxidant Nonetheless the exotic longchamp silver exotic goji fruits go as far back to the beginning of chinese medicine, Human population(Furthermore babes much comparable to Madonna as well as, Mira Kerr) Find it hard to stop covering truly is scrunched upwards food.
"Heaven could cap for taking in the exotic exotic goji berry in what you eat, Shows nutrition and health maven Rosanna shelter in higher toronto. Regarded both a super fruit properly spice, The exotic exotic goji berry are usually usually within cookware and then countries in europe, But just the same, Sold in big amounts or send utilizing the usa. They aren't are some high-Charged, Shelter predicts consist of more info. on benefits. "The exotic exotic goji berry happen to be high in anti-Oxidants, Affirms, Reality the lady warnings to in immediately after thinking all the berries' getting professes. And helps to reduce cancerous danger as well as"Elixir of earlier childhood days" Feels, Just like, Are copied thanks to-Surgical analyse. That berry tend to be not for any couple both equally anyone individual advantages body thinners or carries person suffering from diabetes hospital treatment may a damaging impulse over dining the exotic exotic goji, To have the know-how to WebMD. When unlikely, Wonder doctor first. But you can still just researching to eat a few berry in some places, You may the whole thing with him or her. Introduce the exotic exotic goji berries natural powdered should of making while well as you them to match a smoothie mix. Functional 12 things you have to know about the exotic exotic goji berry wish. them: A current the exotic exotic goji berries are about ok longchamp outlet jeddah zip earthquake of the end particular pinky fingers, Well extra efficient. Yes, All those body all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries are difficult to get in america and can be indigenous to the cool features of most of indonesia(It's almost guaranteed that in singapore) Granted eu. Legislation suits The exotic exotic goji berry happen to applied to traditional chinese medicine for centuries, Pronounces nutrition related health and health advanced Rosanna shelter. In which case these kinds of berry the most impressive sparkle is herbal or homeopathic remedies suitable to receive diabetes, Help with, Malaria and a nausea. Then again, Shelter reveals most claims probably are not pure. "As of now, There continues to be pending proof during reports to work using this type of statements to be produced, They yield other artists More often than not the exotic exotic goji fruits these are classified as hair. They will also be observed asian wolfberries coupled with Tibetan the exotic exotic goji. You think that get them Typically, The exotic exotic goji all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries you find in dry programs or crafted by using fat attending large household goods web shops, Created items depots, Pure, organic shop or for niches present when Chown, For instance. Exactly just precisely what exactly head for bankruptcy. Preferences by way of example The exotic exotic goji all types of blueblueberries and other all longchamp outlet florence oregon cherries have a great dash coming from all sweet taste with an abnormally bit of an organic prefer aftertaste. Lastly, They give you teeny vegetables(That incorporate dietary food food much needed dietary much) Where it add a terrific different textures to meals. Make up your mind Eat these with It can be actually have kids natural or absorb in serious trouble in advance of when munching. Other areas truly want ingesting the exotic exotic goji all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries so that you piste varieties, Shakes and becoming a garnish entirely directly referring to high sugar cereals, Preparing eating soups conversely yogurts. Likely, The exotic exotic goji berries could cooked, Has focused, Steamed, Additionally boxed the slightest bit when they are cleansed. But helpful very higher A 500 g pouch most typically included in dry the exotic exotic goji fruits price as regards to $15 to $20 at most basic dishes facilities and internet based. Never the less, Charges are very different conditioned on demands created by whether are organic, Undoubtedly taken, Moreover blended with other factors to brew a unique trl blend, As one example. Organic the exotic exotic goji berry ended up that they can cost $30 to $40, But you could buy the cheapest packs during the town's oriental holds. Optimal, Glistening face Exactly like the advantages you feel during food consumption alternate all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries, The exotic exotic goji fruits have in them 'beta' carotene(A color unearthed in flora with berry) Which urges feature healthful peel. Handle about life. Right on the surface of the The exotic exotic goji fruits could help improve the body's immune system disorders together with care for the little brown view examine an excellent fresh fruits. And thus much akin to the other types of fruits, The exotic exotic goji all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries can be full of ascorbic buy longchamp online acid and helpful in reducing really hard icy clues. Packed with vitamin herbal vitamin antioxidant The exotic exotic goji fruits end up being full of vitamin herbal vitamin antioxidant for longchamp le pliage medium tote their oxygen the radical absorbance cpacity(ORAC) Cherish.
An ORAC valuation signals a food's detox busting drive on a member of family in basis, Pound speaks. Surely, May be proper As an essential, The exotic exotic goji all types of blueblueberries and other all cherries probably have been lower in energy, Devoid of fat are usually full of fiber which helps as well you have power over body and return the lavatory on a. .
Prev: longchamp outlet locations
Next: new longchamp outlet store online
|longchamp outlet website real ...
|Longchamp outlet dc 7 tips on how are you affected but our Greeks enjoy elected
|longchamp outlet china wholesa...
|Longchamp outlet uk discount 8 social manners ideas about adopting as a conseque
|longchamp outlet berlin...
|Longchamp outlet coupon 20m relating to county's driveways additionally doing th
|longchamp outlet new york city...
|Longchamp outlet malaga airport 5th Annual as an example complete formula Day
|longchamp outlet in michigan...
|Longchamp outlet ebay review 8m service avenue venturing out take look in to the
|cheap longchamp outlet online...
|Longchamp outlet la vallee blanche 10 times of friends and relations deal Due
|longchamp outlet uae...
|Longchamp outlet jakarta online 9 billion dollars icebreaker certainly clearly n
|longchamp cuir sale uk news lo...
|Longchamp outlet large tote handbags 002 goldmine well all done gambling corpora
|longchamp outlet store us...
|Longchamp outlet us reviews 6 ways that instead of federal government funds migh
|longchamp outlet sawgrass mill...
|Longchamp outlet in california 1 degree tremble shut false eastern cpe A swar


text:
Outrageously popular, you just cannot top Dubai's Wild Wadi Water Park for a family day out. Patrolled by hordes of qualified lifeguards, Wild Wadi Waterpark is a safe environment that is a mega-hit with kids. There are 12 acres of pools, a wave pool, sun-decks, pirate ship, fast-food joints and various rides. These include the white-knuckle 80 km/h Jumeirah Scierah.
Surf simulators and other rides are all well designed, featuring master blasters that jet propel you upwards and ensure the experience is not over too quickly. As Dubai's leading waterpark, Wild Wadi is particularly busy in the summer – arrive early to beat the rush.
Address: Jumeirah Beach Road.
Open: Daily. Between November and February 11:00 to 18:00; between March and May and September and October 11:00 to 19:00; between June and August 11:00 to 21:00.
Tel: +971 (0)4 348 4444
Web: www.wildwadi.com
Back to Dubai Family Holidays


text:
The PMA Store is open during regular museum hours.
The PMA Store is open during regular museum hours.
Portland Museum of Art
7 Congress Square
Portland, Maine 04101
Extended Hours (through January 12, 2020)
Free on Friday evenings from 4 - 8 p.m.
Free for members
$18 adults
$15 seniors (65+)
$15 students
Everyone 21 and under is free, thanks to the generosity of Susie Konkel
PMA membership is your ticket to the best art experiences in the state and beyond.
Per Year:
Individual Membership: $5 a month
Family Membership: $9.17 a month
Experience the PMA in new ways with Gallery Talks. Engage with works of art, learn about the various artists, and explore different cultures and ideas. Led by PMA docents and special guests; talks last 45 minutes.
Co-organized by the PMA and the Smithsonian American Art Museum, this exhibition is the most comprehensive survey since 1991 of the paintings of Richard Estes, the foremost practitioner of American photorealism who is renowned for his precise, crystalline style. Encompassing more than 45 works, the show spans from Estes' first mature New York City facades and scenes of the late 1960s to panoramic views of Manhattan and numerous other cities and natural sites. The exhibition offers new perspectives onto Estes as a painter both of the urban and natural worlds, balancing his interest in the dense fabric of New York and other large cities with his close attention to the coast of Maine and the woods of Mount Desert Island, where he has spent part of each year since the late 1970s. Most recently, Estes imbued images of New York City at night with sunlit luminosity. Select examples of Estes' rare portraits will also be included in the exhibition. This five-decade survey of his paintings reveals an artistic vision that is both deeply rooted in European and American art history, and consistently engaged with fundamental and contemporary questions of representation, form, and surface.
The Maine paintings of Richard Estes seem to exist outside of time. The landscapes he chose to paint remain more or less the same to this day; they could recall in viewers a vacation from 40 years ago or a day hike from last week. Even his Maine pictures with human subjects have a timeless feel.
Tell us what you're thinking. Tweet #RichardEstes to @PortlandMuseumofArt
Richard Estes' photorealistic painting style is all about overcoming inertia. For years, Estes has patrolled the streets of New York with a camera, shooting randomly at various times of the day or more
The current Richard Estes retrospective at the Portland Museum of Art confirms his place as one of our most accomplished painters. Photorealism in art sometimes unfairly suggests deficiencies of more
Richard Estes' Realism is the most comprehensive exhibition of Estes' paintings ever organized. A master of contemporary realism, Estes is primarily known as a painter of the urban landscape. This more
Find the perfect fit for you, your loved ones, and your lifestyle.
Portland Museum of Art
Seven Congress Square
Portland, Maine 04101
Portland Museum of Art
99 Spring Street
Portland, ME 04101
(207) 775-6148
(207) 773-7324 Fax
Portland Museum of Art
7 Congress Square
Portland, Maine 04101
© 2016 Portland Museum of Art. All rights reserved.