text:
During the 1960 Cannes Film Festival, two months after the release of "Breathless," his first feature, Jean-Luc Godard told an interviewer, "I have the impression of loving the cinema less than I did a year ago—simply because I have made a film, and the film was well received, and so forth. So I hope that my second film will be received very badly and that this will make me want to make films again." The twenty-nine-year-old director was not only daring the powers of the movie world to withdraw their approval but begging them to do so: "I prefer to work when there are people against whom I have to struggle." Godard, who will turn seventy this December, has been struggling ever since; indeed, he could hardly have anticipated the price he would pay for getting his wish.
In the history of cinema, only two other directors have made first full-length films that forever changed the art—D. W. Griffith, with "Birth of a Nation," in 1915, and Orson Welles, with "Citizen Kane," in 1941—and they, too, eventually found themselves in exile. Unlike Griffith and Welles, who fought to keep a place in the film industry and then, once excluded, tried to claw their way back in, Godard has remained productive on the margins, but at great personal sacrifice. His single-minded quest to unify his life and his work has had the extraordinary side effect of rendering him out of place in both: hyperreal and disarmingly present in his films; oracular and almost incorporeal in person.
When "Breathless" was first shown, it was an immediate critical and commercial success: no other film had been at once so connected to all that had gone before it and yet so liberating. The plot was a familiar one—a young man gone bad and on the run, the woman he loves unsure whether to run with him—but its execution was utterly new. Shot with a handheld camera in real locations, using available light, and edited with daring visual discontinuity, "Breathless" felt like a high-energy fusion of jazz and philosophy. The actors spoke in hyperbolic aphorisms that leaped from slang to Rilke, and ideas and emotions came and went in a heartbeat; the film resembled a live recording of a person thinking in real time. "Breathless" may not have been as endearing as Truffaut's "The 400 Blows," or as intellectually demanding as Alain Resnais's "Hiroshima Mon Amour," but in the years to come it inspired New Cinemas from Czechoslovakia to Brazil.
Between 1960 and 1967, Godard made fourteen feature films, including such modernist classics as "Vivre Sa Vie," "Pierrot le Fou," and "Two or Three Things I Know About Her," and in them he continued to outdo both himself and his contemporaries in stretching the limits of narrative film. As a formal innovator, as a social critic, as an unflinching confessor of hot emotions and cold truths, he became a singular figure of the sixties. Writing in Partisan Review in February, 1968, Susan Sontag called him one of "the great culture heroes of our time," and compared him to Picasso and Schoenberg. During Godard's 1968 speaking tour of American universities, one student said he was "as irreplaceable, for us, as Bob Dylan."
Yet by that point Godard was in a crisis of self-doubt; the pace of current events was outstripping his ability to invent new forms to engage them. In the earlier films, he had joyfully embraced the images of mass culture—magazines, advertising, pop tunes, and, above all, Hollywood movies. Now he felt repulsed by the world those images signified and fostered, with its unreflective consumerism and its support for the Vietnam War. The last of this torrent of films, "Weekend"—made famous by a ten-minute tracking shot of a traffic jam (actually three distinct shots, separated by brief intertitles)—concludes with two title cards: the first reads "End of Film," the second "End of Cinema." When Godard finished "Weekend," he advised his production crew to look for work elsewhere. So began Godard's defiant withdrawal—first from the movie industry, and then from Paris. He did not make another commercial film for more than a decade.
The films that Godard has made since his return to the movie business, in 1979, are arguably deeper, more technically accomplished, and more daring than the early ones. But they are also far more fragmented in form and rarefied in content, at a time when Hollywood has accustomed even sophisticated viewers to simpler films. This unhappy coincidence, combined with the changed economics of the industry, has made it impossible for any but the most assiduous American fans to keep up with Godard's work of the past twenty years. The last time a Godard film received a regular commercial release in a first-run theatre in New York was in 1988, when "King Lear" played for three weeks at the Quad Cinema. According to Variety, it took in $61,821 at the box office in all of North America. It is currently unavailable on home video or DVD. The loss is tragic: it's as if American museums and galleries were to show nothing of Picasso after Cubism.
When I mentioned to some friends that I was going to Switzerland to visit Godard, they were taken aback: they had assumed he was dead. In Godard's futuristic film "Alphaville" (1965), the hero, Lemmy Caution, Secret Agent 003, is warned that as a romantic individualist he is out of date and doomed. "You will suffer something worse than death," he is told. "You will become a legend." This prophecy has been fulfilled in the person of Jean-Luc Godard.
Godard works out of the basement of a modern low-rise residential building in Rolle, the town in Switzerland where he and his partner, Anne-Marie Miéville, have lived since 1978. Godard maintains that the town is outside one of the defining loops of modern life. "Here in Rolle," he says, "you can't get a package from Federal Express."
I asked him why not.
"Because he comes by. I'm never in. He leaves word: 'Call us.' So, I don't call."
Rolle, set on a hillside by the shores of Lake Geneva, is in timeless harmony with its natural setting. Across the street from the hotel where I was staying was a thirteenth-century castle perched on the banks of the vast, jewel-bright lake. A hundred yards out, a small island with domes of dense foliage pierced by a proud, solemn obelisk resembled a Fragonard come to life; Mont Blanc hovered weightlessly in the distance.
When I arrived at Godard's office, I could see the filmmaker through a glass door, seated at a broad, uncluttered trestle desk. He was talking on the phone as he waved me in, past one wall of compact disks and another of books and pictures. He sat facing a roomful of video equipment that could stock a small TV station, including a television monitor showing the semifinals of the French Open. (He is an enthusiastic tennis player, and ranks himself "ten-millionth in the world.")
Godard was wearing black pants, black sandals, and a white T-shirt with a discreet Nike swoosh over the left breast. His hair was sparse and gray, and his face was spiky with white stubble. After several gentle politesses into the phone, he hung up and greeted me. He said that he and Miéville had long admired The New Yorker's cartoons, and that they had clipped one that exemplified their own situation: a unicorn wearing a suit is seated at a desk and talking on the phone, with a caption reading, "These rumors of my nonexistence are making it very difficult for me to obtain financing."
I began by asking him about his most recently released feature film, "For Ever Mozart," from 1996, a bitter fantasy about art and mourning. In it, three young French people with lofty ideas but idle hands take off for Sarajevo to put on a play and are killed in Bosnia by paramilitary thugs. One of the victims is the daughter of an old French director who has been stalled in his work; in his grief, he finds the will to create.
Typically, Godard was not satisfied with the film. "It wasn't very good," he said. "The actors aren't good enough, and things remained too theoretical." Godard's complaint about his movie led to a complaint about young actors today: that even unknowns, inundated with media hype, comport themselves like stars and are "less available" to direction: "They think they know what to do, by the fact that they've been chosen. They have no doubt. Doubt no longer exists today. With digital, doubt no longer exists."
This abrupt switch from the sociological to the technological is typical of Godard's conversation: his sentences, like his films, are always soaring into abstractions, or breaking off, pivoting on an instant of silence to change direction. "With digital, there is no past," he continued. "I'm reluctant to edit on these new so-called 'virtual' machines, these digital things, because, as far as I'm concerned, there's no past. In other words, if you want to see the previous shot, O.K., you do this"—he tapped the table like a button—"and you see it at once. It doesn't take any time to get there, the time to unspool in reverse, the time to go backward. You're there right away. So there's an entire time that no longer exists, that has been suppressed. And that's why films are much more mediocre, because time no longer exists."
Godard is deeply involved with the past, and with the challenges of representing it on film. His new film, "In Praise of Love," which he is still editing, concerns an elderly French couple in Brittany who are former heroes of the Resistance, and whose life story Steven Spielberg has offered to buy, and the family argument that ensues over whether the offer should be accepted. Spielberg's presumption to historical authority is one of Godard's pet peeves. When, in 1995, Godard turned down an invitation to receive an honorary award from the New York Film Critics Circle, he wrote to its chairman declaring himself unworthy of the honor because of his failure to accomplish several things—foremost, "to prevent Mr. Spielberg from reconstructing Auschwitz."
Spielberg wants "to dominate the world," Godard charged in 1995, "by the fact of wanting to please before finding truth or knowledge. Spielberg, like many others, wants to convince before he discusses. In that, there is something very totalitarian." Now, in his office, Godard advanced that argument with an allusion to "Saving Private Ryan," connecting the Normandy invasion to the invasion by American cinema. "To my mind, I think that's even the reason why the Americans landed, it's for the American film, and now it's happened." After all, he continued, "when Nixon signed a contract with China, the first thing is always the films. Cheese, airplanes—that comes later."
Like many contemporary French thinkers, Godard believes that France is enduring an American cultural occupation as significant as the German occupation during the Second World War, and equally hard to resist. He told me about a film he had been close to making that fell through, called "Conversations with Dmitri." It was about the French film industry under a hypothetical Soviet occupation, and he intended it to be a comment on "the American cultural occupation, the German occupation, all occupations."
Godard lays much of the blame for what he perceives as the loss of the past, the failure of cultural memory, on the present-day American occupation. He complained to me that the young, media-savvy actors in "For Ever Mozart" didn't recognize actors from twenty years ago, and suggested, as a corrective, that television should show "only the past, nothing of the present, not even the weather." He continued, "They should give the weather from twenty years ago. Tennis matches from twenty years ago, not today. But what's happening today, well, our children will see in twenty years. There's no hurry—twenty years."
On the subject of his own past, Godard has relatively little to say, and he has reproached interviewers for dwelling on it. As a child, he was something of a loner, yet he was anything but alone; in fact, he had the kind of refined, close-knit family that one can spend a lifetime trying to escape. Born in Paris, on December 3, 1930, the second of four children, Jean-Luc Godard had a privileged and sheltered childhood. His father, Paul-Jean Godard, was a French-born doctor who became a Swiss citizen; his mother, born Odile Monod, was the daughter of extremely wealthy French bankers. Both were Protestant, and both were literary. Godard credits his father for his taste for German Romanticism and his mother for his love of novels. He spent his childhood reading, skiing, and travelling among his family's various estates, on both the French and Swiss sides of Lake Geneva. When the Second World War began, Godard was in school in Paris, but he was soon sent back to his family in Switzerland, and he stayed there until the end of the war.
After the Liberation, Godard returned to school in Paris, and in the late nineteen-forties he discovered the Cinémathèque Française. Founded by the young silent-film buff Henri Langlois in 1935, the Cinémathèque included both a collection of films that Langlois had rescued and preserved (at a time when old films were routinely destroyed) and a small screening room where he could show them. It was not the first film museum, but it was the best: Langlois's catholic taste (which ranged from surrealist fantasies to B Westerns) made the Cinémathèque the hub of postwar French movie culture. There Godard and two other faithfuls of the front row—François Truffaut and Jacques Rivette—eventually introduced themselves. The three young devotees soon met two others, a pharmacy student named Claude Chabrol and a man ten years their senior, Maurice Scherer, now known as Eric Rohmer. Godard's interest in film quickly grew into an obsession, fuelled by enthusiastic all-night discussions with his new friends while wandering the streets of Paris. To placate his parents, he enrolled at the Sorbonne as a student in ethnology, but he spent all his time at the movies—sometimes watching three films a day, sometimes watching one film (Orson Welles's "Macbeth," for example) three times in a row, and sometimes, according to Truffaut, watching "fifteen minutes of five different films in one afternoon."
At the same time, Godard was doing his best to keep up with his reading: Truffaut reported that his friend would go to people's apartments and read the first and last pages of forty books. Indeed, Godard had originally wanted to be a novelist, but he felt "crushed by the spectre of the great writers." Then he discovered "other poets," in the cinema: "I saw a film of Jean Vigo, a film of Renoir, and then I said to myself, I think that I could do that too, me too."
During our interview, Godard referred to the New Wave not only as "liberating" but also as "conservative." On the one hand, he and his friends saw themselves as a resistance movement against "the occupation of the cinema by people who had no business there." On the other, this movement had been born in a museum, the Cinémathèque: Godard and his peers were steeping themselves in a cinematic tradition—that of silent films—that had disappeared almost everywhere else. Thus, from the beginning, Godard saw the cinema as a lost paradise that had to be reclaimed.
In 1950, Godard published several articles in a short-lived film magazine edited by Rohmer. Then, in 1952, he began to write for a new, intensely serious magazine, co-founded by the legendary film theorist André Bazin: Cahiers du Cinéma. Even his earliest articles displayed the motifs of his future film career: a love for classic American movies, political films, and documentaries; a taste for grandiose speculation and fine phrases; and a conflation of his idea of cinema and his idea of himself. More important, he used his dazzling polymathy to explode the old hierarchies: Hitchcock and Hawks were as great as Eisenstein and Renoir; Eisenstein and Renoir were as great as Voltaire and Cézanne. Godard was already imagining movies that would bring together the commercial cinema, the art cinema, and the whole of Western culture in one madly ambitious body of work—his own.
Godard may have been hatching big plans, but, from his parents' perspective, he was still living like a spoiled adolescent. In 1952, hoping to thrust responsibility on him, they cut him off financially. Unable to support himself with his film criticism, Godard began stealing—from family members, from friends of the family, from the offices of Cahiers du Cinéma. His mother managed to find him a job with Swiss television, but he stole from his employers and got caught. His father bailed him out of jail and put him in a mental hospital. (These events are strikingly reminiscent of Truffaut's ordeal in the late nineteen-forties, when he stole a typewriter from his father's office to finance the creation of his own ciné-club and his father committed him to a psychiatric "observation center.") After this incident, Godard says, he severed his ties with his family for good.
Shortly afterward, in 1954, Godard went to work on a dam in Switzerland. "I said to myself, 'I'll put some money aside, and in two or three years I'll come back to Paris. I'll manage to make my first film by age twenty-five.' That's the goal that Orson Welles had set." Instead, he rented a camera on his days off, hired a crew, and made a short documentary about the construction of the dam. He then sold it to the construction company and returned to Paris, where he was able to scrape by on the film's profits for several years. Eric Rohmer has written of that period, "Whenever people asked us, 'What do you live on?' we liked to answer, 'We don't live.' Life was the screen, life was the cinema."
In Paris, Godard resumed his critical writing for Cahiers du Cinéma and other journals, made several short films, and took a job as the press agent for the Paris office of Twentieth Century Fox. After a screening there of a film by the French producer Georges de Beauregard, Godard told him, "Your film is shit." This unusual introduction earned Godard an acquaintance that soon proved fruitful: in 1959, following the success of Truffaut's "The 400 Blows," Beauregard agreed to produce Godard's first feature film, on the strength of a story outline written by Truffaut.
From the beginning of his career, Godard crammed more film references into his movies than any of his New Wave comrades. In "Breathless," his citations include a movie poster showing Humphrey Bogart (whose expression the lead actor Jean-Paul Belmondo tries reverently to imitate); a clip from the soundtrack of the classic film noir "Gun Crazy"; visual quotations from films of Ingmar Bergman, Samuel Fuller, Fritz Lang, and others; and an onscreen dedication to Monogram Pictures, an American B-movie studio. Most of all, the choice of Jean Seberg as the lead actress was an overarching reference to Otto Preminger, who had discovered her for his "Saint Joan," and then cast her in his acidulous 1958 adaptation of "Bonjour Tristesse." If, in Rohmer's words, "life was the cinema," then a film filled with movie references was supremely autobiographical.
"Breathless" was the first film to make explicit its relation to the history of cinema, and serious critics and viewers appreciated it as such. Yet the wider audience saw it as a gangster movie, and enjoyed the escapist fantasy—a response that took Godard by surprise. In an interview several years after its release, he said, "Now I see where it belongs—along with 'Alice in Wonderland.' I thought it was 'Scarface.' " The offhandedly self-righteous thug of "Breathless" was not the scarred sociopath of the real underworld (as he had been in Truffaut's original conception); he was a character without psychology, a collection of self-consciously cool gestures copied from the movies.
The offhand behavior of Belmondo's character was mirrored in Godard's approach to film technique. Like an action painter, he discovered a working method that exalted the inspiration of the moment; in fact, the way the shoot was organized was arguably Godard's greatest innovation. He had his cameraman, Raoul Coutard, shoot with a handheld camera and scant lighting, partly for aesthetic reasons and partly to save money but mostly to save time. "Three-quarters of directors waste four hours on a shot that requires five minutes of actual directing," Godard told an interviewer. "I prefer to have five minutes' work for the crew—and keep the three hours to myself for thought." He needed time for himself because he made "Breathless" without a storyboard—indeed, without a script. He and his minimal crew usually shot only in the morning, giving the director the rest of the day to come up with what to do next; when he couldn't come up with anything, they would skip a day of shooting altogether. Jean Seberg, who was used to Hollywood methods, considered quitting after the first day. Two weeks into filming (and not filming), Beauregard thought that Godard was simply wasting money, and threatened to shut down the production, but Truffaut intervened.
In an interview a few years later, Godard was even more explicit about his search for "the definitive by chance": "As I make low-budget films, I can ask the producer for a five-week schedule, knowing there will be two weeks of actual shooting. 'Vivre Sa Vie' took four weeks, but shooting stopped during the whole second week. The big difficulty is that I need people who can be at my disposal the whole time. Sometimes they have to wait a whole day before I can tell them what I want them to do. I have to ask them not to leave the location in case we start shooting again. Of course, they don't like it."
In 1960, a young model ignored a telegram from Godard offering her the lead female role in a film he was making. He had noticed her the year before in a soap commercial and had offered her a small part in "Breathless," which she had refused, because it entailed appearing topless. This time, her friends pushed her to respond. She went to see Godard in his producer's office, in Paris: "He walked around me three times. He looked me over from head to toe and said, 'It's a deal. Come sign your contract tomorrow.' I asked him, haltingly, what the film was about. He answered that there was no script, that it had to do with politics." The actress, Anna Karina, was not yet twenty-one, and Godard had to fly her mother in from Denmark to sign on her behalf.
The film, "Le Petit Soldat," opens with the lines "The time for action is over. I have aged. The time for thought is beginning." A painfully personal love story set in the context of the French government's dirty war against Algerian independence fighters and their French sympathizers, the film shows both sides engaging in assassination and torture. As Godard had hoped, it was received badly. The left protested privately; the French government banned the film, blocking its release at home and abroad. "But since I had received death threats in my mailbox," Godard said, "I was glad it was banned." Godard, who had called "Breathless" "a documentary on Jean Seberg and on Jean-Paul Belmondo," here took that notion a step further, asking Anna Karina questions on camera and filming her unscripted answers, a method he expanded and refined in films to come.
Godard and Anna Karina married in 1961. She starred in many of his subsequent films, including "A Woman Is a Woman," "Vivre Sa Vie," "Alphaville," and "Pierrot le Fou," which used various American movie genres—science fiction, melodrama, romance, the musical—to frame collages of sociology, philosophy, poetry, politics, and outright caprice. The director and his star made a glamorous pair in those years, cruising around Paris in their big Ford, but the marriage was tempestuous. Godard would often disappear; later, Karina would learn that he had been out of the country. As she put it, "He told me, 'I'm going out for a pack of corn-paper cigarettes,' and he came back three weeks later." In 1964, Jacques Rivette, who had just directed Karina in a stage adaptation of Diderot's "La Religieuse" (which Godard financed), told a journalist, "He and his wife have achieved perfect harmony in destroying each other." The screenwriter Paul Gégauff described paying a visit to the couple, only to find Godard "stark naked" in a freezing-cold room that had been totally destroyed: "All his clothes and Anna's were lying on the ground in tatters, the sleeves slashed with a razor, in a mess of wine and broken glass. . . .I noticed Anna on a sort of dais in the far corner of the room, also quite naked. . . .'I'd offer you a glass of something,' he said, 'only there aren't any glasses left.' Then: 'Go and buy us a couple of raincoats so that we can go out.' "
Godard thought that Karina was disappointed by the increasingly intellectual path that his film career was taking; he said that "what she really dreamed of was to go to Hollywood." In "Contempt" (1963), a screenwriter accepts an assignment he despises in order to pay for luxuries that he thinks his beautiful young wife, played by Brigitte Bardot, expects. Michel Piccoli, who played the screenwriter, told a reporter at the time, "I'm not the male lead of 'Contempt'—he is. He wanted me to wear his tie, his hat, and his shoes." Raoul Coutard, the film's cinematographer, said, "I am convinced that he is trying to explain something to his wife in 'Contempt.' It's a sort of letter—one that's costing Beauregard a million dollars." (The co-producer Joseph E. Levine concurred: "We lost a million bucks on that lousy film, because that great director Jean-Luc Godard refused to follow the script.") Years later, Godard said of Karina, "She left me because of my many faults; I left her because I couldn't talk movies with her." Karina's assessment was slightly different: "As soon as we were happy, he tried to get at us by another means, another path. He provoked a new ordeal. One could have thought that it bored him, happiness." The couple divorced in 1965.
Shortly afterward, Godard made "Masculine Feminine." Though its twenty-year-old characters—"the children of Marx and Coca-Cola"—were from a different world than the thirty-five-year-old director, the film explores the same conflicts between intellect and desire that fuelled "Contempt." In "Waiting for Godard," Michel Vianey's book about the making of "Masculine Feminine," Godard told the writer that finding a woman he was attracted to and could talk to would be ideal, "like having the city in the country."
Godard's next romantic liaison seemed closer to that ideal, but it precipitated his withdrawal from the film industry, and set the hard terms of his self-exile. Anne Wiazemsky was the granddaughter of the French writer François Mauriac, and the lead actress in Robert Bresson's "Au Hasard Balthazar." She and Godard first met after a screening of the rushes, and later, after seeing "Masculine Feminine," she wrote him a letter. At the time, Wiazemsky was a student at Nanterre University, a nexus of leftist activity. Through his acquaintance with her friends there, Godard conceived "La Chinoise" (1967), a film about a cell of young Parisian Maoists who, from the comfort of a borrowed apartment, plot their first terrorist act. The film, which starred Wiazemsky, is also an unromantic love story, involving her character and another cell member. "La Chinoise" was made a year before the legendary student uprisings, and is widely held to be prescient. That summer, Godard married Wiazemsky, who had just turned twenty; later that year, he made "Weekend."
When Godard abandoned the movie industry, in 1968, he was fleeing not just a set of narrative conventions, his own public image, and his newfound cinema "family" but also the entrenched customs of movie production. It was no coincidence that the alternative structure he embraced, a doctrinaire Marxism or Maoism, purported to grant workers control of the means of production and to promote collaborative work—in fact, Godard co-founded a Marxist cinema collective the following year. But one scene in "La Chinoise" suggests the inner price of Godard's doctrinaire ideological allegiance: the hero stands at a blackboard that is covered with the names of famous writers and artists, and erases them one by one, until only the name "Brecht" remains. For a stupendous reader and artistic omnivore like Godard, the scene is the equivalent of intellectual suicide. Describing this period many years later, he told an interviewer, "I didn't read, I didn't go to movies, I didn't listen to music," and added, citing Rohmer, " 'In those years I wasn't alive.' " Ultimately, the reductivism and hortatory optimism of Maoism proved too much. In his semi-apologetic 1972 "Tout Va Bien," Godard presents Yves Montand as a director who left the cinema in 1968, in a moment of doubt, and has been making TV commercials for a living: Godard was making commercials, but for a political product, and he, too, was looking for a way out. By the time the movie appeared, he and Wiazemsky had separated.
When I met Michel Vianey in Paris recently, I reminded him of Godard's quest for a woman he could talk to, and he replied, "Well, he's found her." Godard's thirty-year partnership with Anne-Marie Miéville is a testament to his ongoing attempts to unify filmmaking and domestic life. He first worked with Miéville in 1970, on a film project about Palestinians, and Miéville was closely involved in Godard's rehabilitation after a severe motorcycle accident the following year. In 1973, the couple left Paris for Grenoble, where they put together their own video studio; there they could control productions from start to finish, and incorporate filmmaking into their daily lives. A few years later, they increased their isolation by moving to Rolle.
Between 1974 and 1978, Godard and Miéville collaborated on three films and two video series, all of which are experimental in the best sense of the word—filled with raw thought and technical innovations—and which served Godard as a laboratory of ideas during the decades that followed. In the late seventies, Miéville coaxed Godard to reconnect with the mainstream film industry in order to make "Every Man for Himself"—but he did it on his own terms. He soon began to refer to "Every Man for Himself," which was co-written by Miéville, as his "second first film." Part of the film, at least, was startlingly autobiographical: Jacques Dutronc plays a filmmaker (named Paul Godard) who uneasily follows his girlfriend, also a filmmaker (played by Nathalie Baye), to a new life in the Swiss countryside. As if to confirm the film's role in reëstablishing him in the cinema, Godard says that "Every Man for Himself" was his only commercial success besides "Breathless."
With its first shot, a searching view of wispy clouds and vapor trails in a deep-blue sky, "Every Man for Himself" announces one of the principal motifs of Godard's later films: some of the most sumptuous and awestruck images of nature ever put on film. The presence of nature is simply the presence of Rolle. But the pictorial richness and density can be traced directly to Godard and Miéville's constant video production in the mid-seventies. Now that Godard had his own studio, he was intimate with his tools and was able to exercise a craftsmanlike virtuosity in every aspect of his art. Starting with this film, Godard, like a painter painting the same apples or model or coastline for twenty years, developed most of his full-length projects from increasingly complex elaborations of a small number of obsessive themes, ranging from the grandly philosophical to the painfully intimate.
Foremost among these themes are the moral combat of filmmaking and the material conditions of the art—sometimes exemplified by an actor playing a filmmaker and sometimes by the saturnine presence of Godard himself. In "Passion" (1982), a filmmaker struggles with the artistic, financial, and emotional complications of a large-scale film, the specifics of which he hasn't quite figured out; in "First Name: Carmen" (1983), Godard plays Uncle Jean, an involuntarily idled old filmmaker enjoying his dotage in a hospital; in "Soigne Ta Droite" (1987), a director, again played by Godard, is charged with making a film that must be ready for distribution that very night. Having exhausted the stock of mythical Hollywood heroes in the sixties, and of ideological ones in the seventies, Godard was down to his last hero: himself.
After forming his partnership with Miéville, Godard started managing not only his time but also his budget; his involvement in the art of moviemaking became a matter of business. Generally, his budgets are put directly under his control by the producer, and his take is what is left over. This financial arrangement permits him to bring in people and equipment without regard to specific line items, and lets him shoot and reshoot as he chooses. It also challenges him to put up money when necessary. Yet these contingencies, too, he folds back into his art. "What sets me apart from lots of people in the cinema," Godard has said, "is that money is part of the screenplay, in the story of the film, and that the film is part of money, like mother-child, father-daughter."
Godard has no children of his own—indeed, he has said that making children and making films are mutually exclusive—but children, real or symbolic, have proved central to his later work. As he has pointed out, "Psychoanalysis and cinema were born in the same year." In the early eighties, he began to treat the relations of an older director to his young actresses as a variant of the Freudian scenario of incest: the father's forbidden desire for his daughter becomes the master script for all cinema. A section in "Every Man for Himself," aptly titled "Fear," shows the "Godard" character speaking of his sexual desire for his eleven-year-old daughter. In "First Name: Carmen," a contemporary version of the opera (with Bizet's music replaced by Beethoven quartets performed onscreen), Carmen plays on the incestuous longings of her Uncle Jean to lure him into making a movie that will serve as cover for her band of robbers. And in "Hail Mary" (1985), a modernization of the story of the Virgin Birth, Godard introduces the theme once more. Remarkably, the film that Godard originally proposed to its lead actress, Myriem Roussel, was a non-Biblical drama on the subject of father-daughter incest, in which the male lead would be played by Godard. It was only after Roussel's refusal that, as Godard later said, "it occurred to me: God the Father and his daughter."
But as Godard was taking on the grand themes of Western civilization—European painting, opera, classical music, psychoanalysis, Christianity—the world, particularly the American movie world, was heading in a different direction. In the United States, the appeal of foreign films has always depended on their blend of intelligence and sex, but Godard's movies were unusually demanding intellectually, and the sex wasn't fun. At the same time, after the financial success of Spielberg's "Jaws" and George Lucas's "Star Wars," Hollywood was gearing its movies to the adolescent raised on TV, and the burgeoning American independent cinema likewise offered a more familiar set of references. Even the most striking of the independent films, like Jim Jarmusch's "Stranger Than Paradise," didn't demand a knowledge of Delacroix or Beethoven to be appreciated.
Paradoxically, Godard's reliance on recovered fragments of Western culture lent his films a new emotional depth. Yet his work of the mid-nineteen-eighties was released commercially in the United States with little fanfare—until 1985, when "Hail Mary" generated a controversy too heated to be ignored. Although the film's outward elements seem jokey (Joseph drives a taxi, Mary helps out in her father's gas station and plays on a girls' basketball team), the tone and import of the film are sublime and respectful, and have even suggested to some a powerful, non-dogmatic argument for Christian faith. Many believers, however, were disturbed by other aspects of the film: Mary is shown not only nude but in erotic agony, as if she were in the throes of sexual possession, presumably by the Holy Spirit. The film met with protests, sometimes violent, in cities throughout Europe and the United States. When Pope John Paul II criticized it, Godard responded with a barbed apology, requesting its withdrawal from the Italian market: "It's the house of the church, and if the Pope didn't want a bad boy running around in his house the least I could do is respect his wishes. This Pope has a special relationship to Mary; he considers her a daughter almost."
At the 1985 Cannes Film Festival, flush with his renewed celebrity and notoriety, Godard approached Menahem Golan, of Cannon Films, and asked him to produce a film of "King Lear." Golan agreed, and wrote out a contract on a napkin from the bar where they were meeting, adding one clause: the script would be written by Norman Mailer. Godard was delighted with the plan: "It was King Lear and his daughter Cordelia that I had in mind, a little like God and Mary in the other film." At first, Mailer balked, assuming that Godard was "hell on writers." He was persuaded, he told me, only by Golan's offer to let him direct his own film, "Tough Guys Don't Dance," if he agreed. Godard's first move was to sign Orson Welles as an actor, or "guide"; but after Welles died, later that year, Godard came up with another idea: Mailer himself would play King Lear, and his daughter Kate, an actress, would play Cordelia. This, too, Mailer accepted, with misgivings.
"I finally decided that the only way to do a modern 'King Lear'—because that was what Menahem Golan wanted—was to make him a Mafia godfather," Mailer said. "I couldn't conceive of anyone else in my range of understanding who would disown a daughter for refusing to compliment him. So I turned it into a script I called 'Don Learo' "—pronounced "lay-AH-ro"—"which to my knowledge Godard never looked at." Mailer shouldn't have been surprised, inasmuch as Godard hadn't read Shakespeare's play, either. Instead, Godard admitted, he watched all the available filmed versions of it: "I had a vague idea that there was this girl who says, 'Nothing,' and that was enough."
Although Godard had intended to make the film near Mailer's house in Provincetown, he suddenly summoned Norman and Kate Mailer to Switzerland. "When we got there, to the hotel, he wanted to start shooting right away, and so he started giving me lines, and I was hardly playing King Lear. He said, 'You will be Norman Mailer in this.' And then he gave me some lines, and they were really, by any comfortable measure, dreadful. They would be lines like, I'd pick up the phone and I'd say, 'Kate, Kate, you must come down immediately, I have just finished the script, it is superb'—stuff like that. He was shooting, and we were getting some dreadful stuff. . . . I said to him, 'Look, I really can't say these lines. If you give me another name than Norman Mailer, I'll say anything you write for me, but if I'm going to be speaking in my own name, then I've got to write the lines, or at least I've got to be consulted on the lines.' So he was very annoyed and he said, 'That's the end of shooting for the day.' "
Godard conceded that the difficulties in their relationship stemmed in part from his way of working ("I don't know very well what I want to do, so he couldn't really have a discussion about it. He had nothing to do but obey, to have confidence in me"), but he also believes that Mailer was hostile to his vision of the film, which was supposed to be like "reportage" of Mailer's relationship with his daughter. "When he saw that he was going to have to talk about himself and his family, it was all over, in a quarter hour," Godard told me. "And that's the little piece that stayed in the film, but he left the next day" (a mutual decision, according to Mailer). To Danièle Heymann, a journalist from Le Monde who visited the set, Godard added one fillip: "He left, being unable, he said, 'to see himself represented in a situation of incest.' " When I mentioned this to Mailer, he asked me, "Is it a reasonable demand to ask someone to, in their own name, play that they have an incestuous relationship to their daughter?"
After Mailer quit, Godard asked Rod Steiger, Lee Marvin, and Richard Nixon to play the part; all three turned him down. Finally, he replaced Mailer with Burgess Meredith, and asked Molly Ringwald to come to Switzerland and play Cordelia. Ringwald told me that she was fascinated by Godard's spontaneous working methods, but she freely admitted that she didn't always know what he was up to. She also called attention to an aspect of his films that, she says, is often overlooked—their humor. Ringwald said Godard was "a great joker" on the set, particularly with Meredith: he "short-sheeted Burgess Meredith's bed," and "put fake blood on his bed, too." Heymann had watched Godard set up a shot of Meredith's bloodstained bed, however, and had asked Godard's assistant about it; the assistant explained it as evidence of Cordelia's lost virginity. The scene as filmed includes neither Cordelia nor Lear, and, indeed, Ringwald was unaware of the sexual subtext during the shoot, but in the finished film the incestuous implications are clear.
True to Godard's later style, the film's real story is precisely how to tell the story, or whether it is in fact possible to do so. The film is constructed around a frisky, quizzical character called William Shakespeare, Jr., the Fifth (acted by the theatre director Peter Sellars), who has been hired by the Queen of England to recover the works of his ancestor, which have been lost, along with the rest of culture, in the technological holocaust of Chernobyl. In the course of his tragicomic quest, Shakespeare, Jr., meets a reclusive professor—Godard himself, adorned with jingling dreadlocks made of video cables—who has reinvented the movie theatre in an attempt to rediscover "the image." The professor's ultimate creation is springtime, which he achieves, on Easter Sunday, by reattaching the petals of dead flowers through the miracle of reverse photography—an effort that costs him his life but makes possible the "first image." This image turns out to be a cinematic crystallization of "King Lear" 's most tragic moment: the tableau vivant in which Cordelia lies dead and her father must acknowledge the reality of her death.
Godard's "rediscovery" of Shakespeare is a grand statement about the power of moviemaking—its ability to appropriate and restore all other art forms. Yet "King Lear" makes an even more extravagant claim on behalf of Godard himself: that the cinema has been lost, and that its reinvention, and therefore the rediscovery of all art, is Godard's personal mission. His artistry, he suggests, can even revive nature, making flowers bloom again in spring. The cost may be great, but then the ultimate creator whose work Godard would subsume under his own is God.
Godard has said that he doesn't have a "pile of scripts in a drawer waiting to be filmed." Most of his films are based on stories that come to him on the spur of the moment, once the money is in hand. But one project that weighed on him for decades was a visual history of the cinema, which he started shooting, on video, shortly after he finished "King Lear."
This eight-part series, which the director finally completed in 1998, is called "Histoire(s) du Cinéma." It is not a comprehensive narrative history but a willfully subjective meditation on themes from the cinema that connect speculations about history and culture with an intimate yet cosmic vision of film. In one episode, Godard declares that the cinema "was the only way to make, to tell, to realize: me, that I have an histoire in and of myself." The hundreds of video clips that he juxtaposes and superimposes are related by associations that feel as private as those from the mental screen on which the films of his life have been projected.
The first installments of "Histoire(s) du Cinéma" were completed in 1988, and their effect was immediately evident: Godard stopped appearing in his features, and the films—"For Ever Mozart," "Hélas pour Moi," and "New Wave"—displayed a newfound grandeur and classical balance. It is as if the "Histoire(s)" had become the outlet for the irrepressible profusion of thought and the need to give himself voice that marked Godard's earlier work.
As the title suggests, "New Wave" is the story of the French New Wave, albeit treated allegorically. Alain Delon plays identical twins who are never seen together: the film begins with the weak one (who represents earlier directors) being rescued and dominated by a powerful woman (the cinema), who finally does away with him; it ends with the strong one (the New Wave), who finds the woman weakened and puts her troubled affairs in order. The characters speak in poetic phrases borrowed from literature; Godard had his assistant search through dozens of literary works in search of potentially useful phrases. "There isn't a word of mine in it, not a word," Godard told me. "Maybe one word of mine, 'Hello, how's it going'—I think that's all."
He went to the shelf to get me a copy of the CD release of the soundtrack, and asked me if I had seen the new set of CDs, with lavishly illustrated libretti, of "Histoire(s) du Cinéma." I asked him about this diversification. "Everything, everything is cinema," he replied. "Everything is cinema."
As Godard's films went off in new directions in the early nineties, Godard himself was looking for ways to expand his contacts with the new generation. In 1990, he and Miéville signed a five-year deal to move their studio to the premises of La Fémis, the prestigious film school in Paris, but the arrangement fell through. A few years later, he approached the government-funded acting conservatory of the Théâtre National de Strasbourg about making a film with its students, "The Training of the Actor in France," but both the administration and the students were unreceptive to Godard's ideas. At the same time, his name was floated for a chair in the Collège de France, a French academy similar to the Institute for Advanced Study, but there he also met with opposition. Thrown back on his own resources, Godard was bitter but not surprised. In his self-portrait film, "JLG/JLG" (1994), he contended that art is the exception while culture is the rule. And, he added, "it is part of the rule to want the death of the exception."
Godard has not denied that there was also a financial motive for seeking these institutional connections. He has said that his goal is "to be a filmmaker and state functionary, as in Russia. . . . My dream is to work by the month and by the year." He also told me that he has sold the rights to "three-quarters" of his films to the major French film-production and distribution company Gaumont. "I'm arriving at the end of my life: I haven't made any money, I have nothing put aside," he recently told another interviewer. "No pension, no Social Security. If I have an accident. . ."
In fact, Godard has been making videos on commission since the seventies: his clients have included Britain's Channel 4, France Telecom, the French appliance store Darty, and UNICEF. He told me that one such video, "Les Enfants Jouent à la Russie," from 1993, was commissioned privately by an American producer, who has never shown it. Godard himself has no copy of it. When I mentioned that I had seen it, he said that it must have been "a bootleg." Most recently, he completed a thirteen-minute piece for the opening ceremony of the 2000 Cannes Film Festival, "The Origin of the 21st Century," a caustic postscript to "Histoire(s) du Cinéma," in which he offers a retrospective view of the twentieth century which juxtaposes clips of feature films with documentary images of the horrors the films failed to respond to. Received with bewilderment at Cannes, it was shown twice last month in a program of short videos at the New York Film Festival. The Times review of the program failed to mention it. Both showings sold out.
In 1998, Godard and Miéville made a fifty-minute video, "The Old Place," that was commissioned by the Museum of Modern Art. "We were paid five hundred thousand dollars for it," Godard told me. "Well, I thought, five hundred thousand dollars for a film that we'll finish in two weeks, not bad. But it took us a year to figure out what to do, to find the images, to choose the texts, et cetera. Then, after taxes, the cost of production—what's left?" "The Old Place" has not yet been shown publicly, and Godard wonders why not. He assumes that "they" don't like it: "Maybe they thought I was going to spend a lot of time in the museum, film their collection."
In the film, Godard and Miéville condemn Andy Warhol as a mercenary, reject abstract art as the work of artists who can no longer face history, and divide art into its visual component (starting with fields of flowers) and its political aspect (exemplified by documentary images of suffering). It is a provocative and disturbing work, and someone who views it in one of MOMA's belowground theatres may be moved to take a long, contemplative detour through the streets and the Park before daring to go upstairs to indulge in the museum's collection. I spoke with Mary Lea Bandy, MOMA's curator of film and video, who greatly admires the piece, and is proud to have arranged the commission. She considers Godard "as complex as Picasso or Dante," and says that he is "arguably the greatest living artist." She told me that "The Old Place" is to be shown at MOMA in February. She hopes to persuade Godard to come to New York for the occasion, but she understands his aversion to such events: "He's like a monk who has gone to the monastery to brood. There's a great deal of sorrow in what he's brooding about. The political idealism of socialism has disappointed him, yet he's very angry about the way that capitalism is managing things."
I asked Godard about the evolution of his politics. "We were for Mao, but when we saw the films he was making, they were bad. So we understood that there was necessarily something wrong with what he was saying." For Godard, the "reference for measuring, even for politics," is the cinema. He brought up the French farmer José Bové, who has recently become notorious in France for demolishing a McDonald's to protest globalization. "At bottom, I think he's right, but what bothers me with him is that if you show him a film of Antonioni he won't like it. So I'm suspicious. That's how we've stayed, completely, since the New Wave, we movie people. We're pretty sectarian, even 'racist'—in quotation marks, so to speak—in relation to cinema. If nobody makes good films, if nobody can make good films, then it will disappear. But as long as I'm alive it will last—let's say for twenty years."
The coming months will be active ones for Godard. Anne-Marie Miéville's latest film, "After the Reconciliation," which co-stars Godard, had its first press screening last week in Paris; two days later, the filmmakers presented it to high-school students of cinema in Sarlat, in southwestern France. The film will open in Paris and elsewhere in France on December 27th. "The Old Place" will première at the Cinémathèque Française in January, and "In Praise of Love" is scheduled for release in February or March. Meanwhile, Godard has also edited the five hours of "Histoire(s) du Cinéma" into a ninety-minute version, "Moments Choisis," which will be released in French theatres at the beginning of next year.
Nonetheless, this flurry of attention cannot conceal the fact that, with the completion of "Histoire(s) du Cinéma," which in a way is also the histoire de Godard and the histoire du monde, Godard has reached a high, remote plateau, from which he appears to be looking for a hand down. He told me that leaving Rolle might be the answer: "We've been saying that it's our studio here, our studio of exteriors, between Geneva and Lausanne. The area is just about the size of Los Angeles, but here there are forests, the lake, snow, mountains, and wind. . . .But now we've had our fill, so to speak, of all these places, so we have to find something else."
After our interview, Godard tossed a black blazer over his T-shirt and invited me to have dinner with him at the restaurant of the hotel where I was staying. We walked downhill from his office to the hotel's broad, pebble-strewn terrace, where there were some fifteen widely spaced tables. Neither patrons nor staff acknowledged the filmmaker in any exceptional way. As we ordered, Godard decried the state of the world, using the cinema as a touchstone: "Before, if you had a little money, you could make a film like Cassavetes. If you had a lot, you could make a film like Kazan. Now they don't know how to do either one. They don't know how because they're not interested. Producers aren't interested in doing cinema, actors aren't interested in doing cinema, doctors aren't interested in doing medicine, psychiatrists—there are still a few who are interested, but that's starting to disappear, too."
Godard ordered a slice of fruit tart for dessert, and when I ordered an espresso he suggested I try a ristrette instead, a highly concentrated semi-demitasse, which is a local favorite. He ate the glazed baked fruit off the top of his pastry and grew wistful. "I've been sad for so long that now I'm making an effort to be more contented," he said. "Otherwise, one would have reason to cry all the time." When we parted for the evening, he told me to come by his office the next morning.
At the appointed time, I found curtains drawn over the wall-size window and the glass door, to which a note inscribed "Mr. Brody" was taped. Godard had written that he could not continue the interview because "it was not a real discussion" and was "flou"—out of focus, vague—but he wished me a better "game" with people I'd be seeing in Paris. I had been warned that this sort of thing might happen; one acquaintance in Paris had told me, "Il est déstabilisateur né"—"He is a born destabilizer."
Returning to the hotel terrace for a coffee, I asked the waitress who had served us the night before whether she had recognized my dinner companion. The woman replied, in a rapid, animated voice, "Oh yes, I know him well. He comes here pretty often, but we leave him alone. People ask us to get his autograph for them, but we don't do it. He doesn't like that. He came here to be in peace, and we leave him in peace. He's a very good customer—he's always contented, he never complains. If all our customers were like that, this would be a dream job."
I had expected that Godard would avoid the hotel that evening, but perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised to see him in the dining room with Anne-Marie Miéville when I went in for dinner. I approached him and said "Bonsoir." He hardly looked at me, and, with a forced smile, emitted a chilling "Bonsoir." Miéville scrutinized me, and then glanced back at him. I thanked Godard for his time, he thanked me and wished me "Bon voyage," and I returned to my table.
From across the noisy room I could hear only Miéville's high, flutelike voice, descanting loudly and emphatically: "Brigitte Bardot. . . Cannes. . . to drop off his screenplay. . . he's waiting. . .budget. . . doing the color timing before the editing. . . . " Occasionally, she would pause, and he would murmur haltingly before she resumed.
The scene reminded me of two films. The first is by Miéville, "We Are All Still Here" (1997), a meditation on a woman's search for "the good man" (adapted from Plato's "Gorgias"), who turns out to be an introverted old actor, played by Godard. The woman prods him into better manners and more patience with worldly foibles, and he endures her tender harangues. The second is "Two Weeks in Another Town," by Vincente Minnelli, which Godard calls one of "the only two good films on the cinema," in which a tyrannical director (played by Edward G. Robinson) clashes with his strong-willed wife, who is nonetheless his only consolation when a producer intrudes on his art. Afterward, when I saw the waitress in the corridor, she said, "You know, he's very unsociable. Very shy and very unsociable. He hardly ever talks. She—his wife—she talks, but not him."
Walking along the lakefront in Rolle in the twilight of the summer evening, I recognized many of the elements of Godard's later films: the lapping of water on rocks; the constant and startlingly various voices of birds; the rhapsodic blue of the sky; the vapor trail of a small, potent airplane; the rustle of leaves in the wind; the short, hollow peal of an ancient church bell; and, most of all, the sense of a last refuge. I also noted the lack of a good movie theatre. I thought again of the filmmaker's plans to leave town, and wondered where he could go.
A move wouldn't be easy, but very little about Godard's professional life feels easy. Godard has put himself in a singularly unenviable position: he has taken the entirety of the cinema upon himself, has identified its survival with his own, has assumed the burden of its fictional forms like the mark of sin. If the new generation of French directors—and, for that matter, American independent filmmakers—feel it unnecessary to confront the history of cinema in their work, it is because Godard has done it for them; they have been freed of the burden of the classical cinema by his sacrifice. At the same time, Godard's highly particularized obsession with the past and future of filmmaking has left him with virtually no share in its present. It is as if he had exchanged his place on earth for his place in history.
As I tried to imagine where Godard could go next, Hawthorne's story of Wakefield came to mind: a man intending to leave home for a week stays away for twenty years and then "entered the door one evening, quietly, as from a day's absence." Although Hawthorne gives the tale an equivocally happy ending, he follows it with a frank declaration of its darker purpose: "Amid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world, individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system, and systems to one another, and to a whole, that, by stepping aside for a moment, a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place forever. Like Wakefield, he may become, as it were, the Outcast of the Universe." ♦


text:
©2020 Williamsburg Multiple Listing Service, Inc. All rights reserved. Information deemed to be reliable but not guaranteed. The data relating to real estate for sale on this website comes in part from the IDX Program of WMLS. The IDX logo indicates listings of other real estate firms that are identified in the detailed listing information. The information being
provided is for consumers' personal, non-commercial use and may not be used for any purpose
other than to identify prospective properties consumers may be interested in purchasing. Information herein is deemed reliable but not guaranteed, representations are approximate, individual verifications recommended. All rights reserved. Last update 2020-01-20.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
The hospitals have been in danger of closing since January due to a lack of funding, and this new development is likely to be the final nail in the coffin for the hospitals as they prepare to close by the end of February.
Hospital officials say that a delay in receiving claims from Medicaid, Medicare, and other private insurance providers has led to the company's financial situation. Though the company, alongside concerned employees and community leaders, have been pleading for the state to step in and provide additional funding to the facilities, Caritas filed for bankruptcy on Friday, and the hospitals are expected to close by the end of the month.
"Caritas has filed for bankruptcy, and the hospitals are currently preparing for closure," said Juliette Lewis, communications director for Mary the Immaculate.
In an official statement, Caritas said, "No adequate source of funding has been identified and no long-term plan for the continued operation of the hospitals, several ambulatory care facilities, and the Monsignor Fitzpatrick Nursing Pavillion, has been forthcoming."
The statement described the board's "deep" regret to file a closure plan for the hospitals, and a pessimistic outlook towards any possibility of keeping them open.
"Since there has been no official or unofficial news from Albany this week regarding a possible solution to the hospitals' financial crisis, the board was, much to its dismay, left with no recourse," continued the statement. "Time has essentially run out."
Patients will continue to be admitted to the hospitals and treated by their staff of nearly 3,000 employees until February 14, at which point no new admissions will be permitted.
"People are mourning here," said Kim Zambrotta, who has worked as a nurse at St. John's for 25 years. "The grief is horrendous. This is my second family. We all look at each other and ask, 'How can you close a full hospital?'"
St. John's and Mary Immaculate are not the first hospitals to struggle financially in New York City, nor will they be the first to close. A similar scenario played out late last year at New Parkway Hospital in Forest Hills, which was also forced to close.
That closure has put additional stress on the remaining hospitals in Queens, including St. John's and Mary Immaculate. The new closures will further stress the fewer and fewer hospitals that provide service for central and eastern Queens, including Elmurst and Wyckoff hospitals. Officials from Elmhurst Hospital say that they will not be able to handle the increase in patients that they are expecting from the closure of St. John's and Mary Immaculate.
"The other hospitals aren't going to be able to handle all the people of Queens, and there will be longer emergency room waits," said Zambrotti. "God forbid somebody dies."
Eager to save the hospitals, elected officials and community leaders rallied around the hospital, urging the state to step in and provide the additional funding needed to keep the facilities open. Though their efforts were ultimately unsuccessful, Caritas acknowledged the support of the community.
"For the past week, there has been a measure of guarded optimism about the future of St. John's and Mary Immaculate Hospitals despite the dire financial crisis facing both institutions," read a statement. "This glimmer of hope was based on the publicly expressed determination of our elected officials, led by New York State Senate Majority Leader Malcolm Smith and Queens Borough President Helen Marshall, to keep the hospitals open and serving the people of Queens."
Hospital staff are organizing and working to keep their jobs by saving the hospital. On Tuesday, a meeting was held during which hospital administration addressed rumors of buyouts or bailouts, both of which are unlikely to come before the hospital is scheduled to close on February 28.
On Wednesday, a number of staff members at the hospital will stage a rally in Albany to pressure state legislators to fund the hospitals. They hope to meet with the majority leaders of the State Senate and Assembly.


text:
PALM HARBOR, Fla. (AP) — Authorities say a Florida man accidentally ran over his 2-year-old daughter with a riding lawn mower in the Tampa Bay area.
Officials say 47-year-old Jeremiah Nugent was cutting grass Wednesday at his Palm Harbor home and about to park the mower in his garage when he thought his wife was alerting him that he was about to drive over something. The Pinellas County Sheriff's Office says the man responded by putting the mower in reverse, running over his daughter.
The man immediately turned off the mower, and the woman called 9-1-1.
Authorities say the child's feet were severed at the ankles. Her left hand was injured but intact. She was taken to Tampa General Hospital, and her condition was unavailable Thursday.
Firefighters say they treated both parents for hysteria.


text:
Elkhart, Ind.-based River Park Inc. has introduced the next generation of its XSG2NA Infotainment Center offering the new Xite LV (Large Vehicle) navigation system.
Developed for 2013 model RVs, the Xite LV system allows drivers to select an RV option and "set the specific vehicle dimensional parameters," according to a press release. Once set, the Xite software provides efficient routing and general guidance while taking into account road restrictions and hazards contained within map data and the requirements of driving a large vehicle.
"We've taken data normally reserved for the commercial truck industry and tailored it to meet the needs of today's RVer" said Craig Smith, president of XiteSolutions North America Inc. "The launch of the Xite LV Navigation package is in line with our focus on delivering programs to our OEMs that meet the specific needs of their products."
According to XiteSolutions, the XSG2NA is a 7-inch touch-screen in-dash system that "provides drivers with advanced navigation while simultaneously providing entertainment, information and connectivity."
"The XSG2NA fills a market void at the OEM level," states Steve Bollero, VP of Operations of RiverPark Inc. "Where after-market systems don't address the specific needs of the R'er, XiteSolutions North America Inc. continues to deliver successful OEM-based product programs. We are pleased to once again offer an industry first to our valued OEMs and their customers."
For more information visit http://riverparkinc.com.


text:
NEW LONODON, Conn. – After taking the first game of the series on Friday, the MIT baseball team could not come up with the series win today as the U.S. Coast Guard Academy scored a sweep of its NEWMAC doubleheader with the Engineers, winning by scores of 5-4 and 5-2.
MIT took an early lead in the first inning of game one, getting a one-out base hit from junior James McKinney (Wakefield, R.I.) that was followed by a two-out, run scoring double off the bat of freshman K.J. Parent (Knoxville, Tenn.). Coast Guard responded with two of its own in the bottom half of the inning. Junior Eric Gerken (Tampa, Fla.) led off with a double and eventually came around to score on a wild pitch. That same wild pitch advanced junior Eddie Babkiewich (Golden, Colo.), who had walked, to third. He then came in on an infield ground out to give the Bears a 2-1 edge.
MIT retook the lead in the third with three runs. The Engineers got back-to-back doubles from senior Brian Macomber (Los Altos, Calif.) and junior Ricardo Perez (Vienna, Va.) to score the first run. An error on the Coast Guard shortstop allowed Perez to come around before a double by freshman Hayden Cornwell (Newport Beach, Calif.) and a single off the bat of senior A.J. Hansborough (Deltona, Fla.) completed the scoring.
Junior Henry Zhu (Overland Park, Kan.), MIT's starter, kept the Bears off the board until the fourth when they scored three times after the first two hitters had been retired. A pair of singles put runners on the corners for Gerken, who doubled to left center. A wild pitch brought in the tying run before junior Joe Petry (Worcester, Mass.) put Coast Guard up for good with a single to center.
MIT had a pair aboard in the fifth, but a double play erased that scoring threat. The Engineers put a pair on again in the seventh, but junior Tyler Vieira (Dumfries, Va.), who had entered the game in the top of the inning, retired the final two MIT batters to earn his first save of the season.
Coast Guard wasted little time in the second game, putting across four runs in the first. The Bears loaded the bases with a pair of singles and a hit batter from their first three hitters An error on MIT's center fielder allowed the first run to score, with the second coming across on a fielder's choice play. An RBI single from sophomore Dave Wolinski (Henrico, Va.) plated another whit another fielder's choice play making it 4-0.
That would be all the run support that Coast Guard starter, junior Riley Beecher (Elgin, Texas) would need as he allowed just three hits and two runs over eight innings to pick up the win. MIT picked up its first run in the fifth without the benefit of a hit as Cornwell led off and was safe on an error. He stole second, moved to third on a ground out and then scored on a passed ball.
Trailing 5-1 going into the ninth, MIT threatened when Macomber walked to lead off the inning and chase Beecher. Vieira came on and gave up singles to Perez and Parent to load the bases with no one down. After getting the first out on a short fly ball, Vieira walked Hansborough walked to make it 5-2. He then got out of the jam when he induced a 4-6-3 double-play ball to end the game.
MIT will play again on Tuesday, April 3 at 3:30 p.m. when it travels to Salem State University for a non-conference game. Coast Guard will stay in conference, playing at Babson College on Tuesday at 3:30 p.m.


text:
Sounds interesting, unfortunately I'm going to be busy for my next three weekends [visiting girlfriend this coming weekend, then the next two I'm going home to visit family (spring break.)] However, if there is still an open slot when I come back I would be glad to join.
Hey there,
I am not sure if I would be available every Saturday. Let me think about it, so I can figure out if it will fit or not...
Hello and welcome to the site. By the looks of your screen name, I should bid you a Semper Fi! We are trying to get groups going in the whole Pittsburgh area. Besides being a GM Advisor on the site here, I am also an Assistant Organizer of the Pittsburgh Dungeon & Dragons group over on the Meetup.com site. Between both sites, there should be a way to get you into a game group. If I can be of assistance, please be sure to give me a shout.


text:
This fluffy Hello Kitty mascot is both cute and functional - just hook her to your key chain and she's ready to clean your phone or tablet screen whenever you need it. Goodbye annoying smudges and fingerprints! Available in your favorite Sanrio characters.
CHOKING HAZARD-Small parts. Not for children under 3 years.
●Brand New Item
●Sanrio Licensed Product
●Dimensions: Approx. 10 x 7 x 3.5 cm / 3.9" x 2.75" x 1.4"
●Material: Polyester
●Attach to iPhones, Androids or tablets using a smart phone adapter plug or attach to your key chain
●This product is not machine washable. Wipe clean with damp cloth and air dry
|Brand Logo


text:
The Bachelor of Science in Nursing at New England Tech was recently featured on The Rhode Show.
Watch the segment below!
If you would like additional information about any of New England Tech's over 40 Associate, Bachelor's and Master's degree programs, including Bachelor of Science in Nursing.
Contact the Admissions Office at 800-736-7744 or email firstname.lastname@example.com


text:
So, slightly spontaneously, I've booked flights to Hong Kong for a week's time. I'm spending a few days in Hong Kong, then heading North to stay with my friend in Guangzhou. Other than that, nothing is planned, although my friend suggested I go to Yuangshou (sp?) and Guilin.
I'm frantically booking insurance, sorting out banks and phones etc. and haven't even had a chance to look at my guide book that came the other day.
So, you knowledgeable and globally-minded lot, any tips? Particularly on music, any festivals, places, venues I should check out to try and find some decent music? Any China-based artists that fRoots should cover that I should try and track down? I'm there for two weeks


text:
I'd like to introduce my mother's new venture!
As of the end of May my mom will be retiring from Johnson & Johnson after 25 plus years. Recently she took knitting up again after many, many years and she has been cranking out some amazing pieces!! She learned from my grandmother many ago. Grandma used to make the most beautiful sweaters – I still have some saved to this day.
I've already been graced with a beautiful blanket as well as multiple scarves from mom. If you know me – you'll know I have tons of coats and I always try to have matching scarves and gloves for each coat. So, you know I've been thrilled with all of the cool/funky scarves she's been knitting me in her spare time.
Now that retirement is upon her in one week she thought she might want to sell all of the beautiful scarves she's been knitting. She was going to do an ETSY site but reconsidered based on the amount of work it would take so she decided she wanted to start with craft shows, etc and see how the sales go.
Below are some of the photos I took of her scarves with things in my house as props. I enjoyed doing this product photography for me mom. We had fun.
*Click on each photo to view larger*


text:
Use Code: JAN10* T&C Apply
Ends In:
Hurry! Ends In:
Crompton 25W Candle B22 Dimmable Traffic Signal 2700K Clear
- Cap type: BC/B22d - Bayonet Cap
- Power Consumption: 25w
- Glass Finish: Clear
- Energy Rating: E
£1.49inc. VAT
Buy 10 or more to save 3%
|Bulk Discount Quantity
|Buy 10 +
|Buy 25 +
|Buy 50 +
Product Description
Candle 25W BC Bulb Clear
- Cap type: BC/B22d - Bayonet Cap
- Power Consumption: 25w
- Colour Output: Warm White
- Dimensions: Diameter = 35mm, Height = 90mm
These Clear finish 25W Candle bulbs emit the familiar warm white light of traditional incandescent bulbs, and the BC Bayonet Cap will fit existing light fixtures, making it easy to find a direct replacement for your current bulbs.
Incandescent light bulbs have been in short supply since the EU introduced a phased ban on them several years ago. Since September 2018, all incandescent bulbs have been banned from sale in the UK (with the exception of specialist bulbs that have no energy-saving alternative).
Special purpose traffic signal grade bulbs are a great replacement for the incandescent filament light bulbs that have been in use for so long. They are sturdier than traditional bulbs and are most commonly used for the illumination of traffic lights and other roadside lights. Not suitable for household room illumination.
|Crompton Lamps
|Manufacturer Part Code
|Cap Type
|BC-B22d bayonet (22mm)
|Yes - Dimmable
|Voltage (V)
|Wattage (W)
|Total Lumens (lm)
|Colour Temperature (K)
|Colour of Light
|Warm White
|Warm Up Time (0-60%)
|<0.5 seconds
|Glass Type
|PIR Sensor
|Average Rated Life (hrs)
|Switching Cycles
|Diameter (mm)
|Height (mm)
Delivery & Returns
Standard Delivery
Most orders received by noon (Monday to Friday) are usually dispatched on the same day and the vast majority within 48 hours of receipt, subject to stock availability. To check the status of your order, please see the My Orders page. Orders are delivered by the most appropriate method, usually first class post or courier. Orders should generally be delivered within 2 or 3 working days of the dispatch date, but this is not guaranteed. Please note that Royal Mail post may take up to 15 working days for delivery. Until this period is over, we are unable to replace or refund orders sent by standard delivery.
Next Day Delivery
Next day delivery is available from Monday – Friday. Orders must be placed before 1 pm to ensure delivery the next day (Monday-Thursday). Please note that orders placed before 1 pm on a Friday via the Next Day Delivery service will not be delivered on a Saturday; however, these will be delivered the following Monday (excluding Public Holidays). Orders placed after 1 pm on a Friday will be dispatched on the following Monday (excluding Public Holidays).
Please ensure that you provide a delivery address where someone will be available between 9.00 and 17.00 Monday to Friday to accept delivery. If our couriers are unable to deliver an order due to the address being unmanned, a card will be left asking you to contact them directly to arrange re-delivery. If no contact is made within 2 days the order will be returned to us and a re-delivery charge will be levied to cover our re-delivery costs.
If you arrange an urgent delivery, there is still no absolute guarantee that it will be delivered the next day, as, despite our best efforts, courier failure/errors and 'acts of god' may still occur. Therefore while every effort will be made to have your goods delivered on time, LightBulbs Direct Ltd accepts no responsibility for any costs incurred as a result of delayed delivery.
If delivery is delayed excessively, we will do our utmost to inform you as soon as possible. We are happy to give you the option of purchasing alternative items or receiving a full refund of any payments that you have made. If we are unable to deliver within 28 days of ordering, we will always give you the option of receiving a full refund of any payments made.
Delivery charges quoted are for UK mainland destinations only using our standard delivery methods. For deliveries over 1.5kg to the Scottish Highlands and Northern Ireland, off-shore destinations and express services, please contact our sales office for a quotation.
Please note that most orders weighing in excess of approximately 1.5 kg and any valuable deliveries are delivered by courier and will require a signature on delivery. Please ensure that you provide a delivery address where someone will be available between 9.00 and 17.00 Monday to Friday to accept delivery. If our couriers are unable to deliver an order due to the address being unmanned, a card will be left asking you to contact them directly to arrange re-delivery. If no contact is made within 2 days the order will be returned to us and a re-delivery charge will be levied to cover our re-delivery costs.
Please make sure that you always order your light bulbs to arrive well before you need them as costs of cherry pickers and sub contractors are always more expensive than the light bulbs themselves.
To learn more about our returns policy, please see our Guarantee.


text:
The link which refers to this story is likely incorrect. If the link was located on this site, please Contact Us. If not please notify the webmaster of the site containing the link.
Action Alert!
Error! You have tried to view a news item using a record ID that is not purely numeric.


text:
Vatican City, Jun 14, 2012 / 10:26 am ().- The Vatican has confirmed that the traditionalist Society of St. Pius X is being offered the status of a personal prelature as part of a deal to heal the group's 24-year rift with the Catholic Church.
"Clearly the ball is now in the court of the Society," Vatican spokesman Fr. Federico Lombardi said on June 14.
Yesterday afternoon the Society's superior general, Bishop Bernard Fellay, spent over two hours in talks with representatives of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, led by Prefect Cardinal William J. Levada.
A June 14 communique from the Vatican Press Office confirmed that during those discussions "a draft document was submitted proposing a Personal Prelature as the most appropriate instrument for any future canonical recognition of the Society."
A personal prelature is a Church jurisdiction without geographical boundaries designed to carry out particular pastoral initiatives. At present, the only personal prelature in the Church is Opus Dei.
The Society of St. Pius X was founded in 1970 by Frenchman Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre in response to errors he believed had crept into the Church following the Second Vatican Council.
The Society has had a strained relationship with the Church since Archbishop Lefebvre ordained four bishops against the will of Pope John Paul II in 1988.
The Vatican communique explained that the primary purpose of yesterday's meeting was "to present the Holy See's evaluation of the text submitted in April by the Society of St. Pius X in response to the Doctrinal Preamble which the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith had presented to the Society on 14 September 2011."
Although it has not been published publicly, the doctrinal preamble sets out key elements of Catholic teaching which the Society will have to agree with before re-uniting with the Church. That list almost certainly includes the documents of the Second Vatican Council 1962-65.
The response given to the preamble by Bishop Fellay in April contained some amendments to the Vatican's original text. In the intervening weeks Vatican officials have been formulating their decision. This process has included personal input from Pope Benedict XVI.
The June 14 communique said that yesterday's discussions also allowed the Vatican an opportunity to provide "explanations and clarifications" for its decision.
For his part, Bishop Fellay "illustrated the current situation of the Society of St. Pius X" and promised to give a response "within a reasonable lapse of time," the statement said.
In a separate June 14 statement, the Society said that Bishop Fellay "spelled out the doctrinal difficulties posed by the Second Vatican Council and the Novus Ordo Missae."
"The desire for additional clarifications could result in a new phase of discussions," the Society said.
If an agreement is reached, it seems unlikely that all of the Society would follow Bishop Fellay back into the Catholic Church.
Last month the other three Society bishops issued a letter warning that any deal with the Vatican would mean the Society would "cease to oppose the universal apostasy of our time." They also dismissed Pope Benedict as a "subjectivist."
Vatican negotiations with each of the Society's bishops are now being handled "separately and singularly," the communique said.
It concluded by expressing the hope that "this additional opportunity for reflection" would help bring about "full communion between the Society of St. Pius X and the Apostolic See."
Updated June 14, 2012 at 12:01 p.m. MDT. Adds specific objections from Society in paragraphs 13 and 14.
Tags: Vatican, Pope Benedict, Society of St. Pius X
You may also like »
Society of St. Pius X could be offered personal prelature status
The breakaway traditionalist group, the Society of St. Pius X, could be offered the status of a...
Vatican's doctrine chief: Pius X Society must accept Vatican II teachings
Although the new head of the Vatican's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith is...
Personal secretary of John XXIII recounts Vatican II announcement
Bishop Loris Capovilla, former personal secretary of Pope John XXIII, recently recalled the late...


text:
Part of National Museums Liverpool
This internationally significant collection of over 2,000 Tibetan objects gives an insight into the lives of British India officers connected to Tibet and the Himalayas.
Sometimes, correcting mistakes found in the museum's records leads to new and completely unexpected connections.
Author: Tankard, Elaine
Publisher: Liverpool Public Museums
Date: 1953-03
Description: Introductory essay and catalogue entries, in themes, for the 1953 exhibition; 'Tibet', held at the Walker Art Gallery.
We use cookies to make our website work better for visitors. They allow improved functionality, personalised services or advertising and the ability to analyse traffic on our website. For more information on how we use cookies, please read our Cookies Policy.
© Copyright 2020


text: Bogotá electronic music collective De Juepuchas deconstructs and mashes up a dizzying array of sound samples, twitches and loops culled from their country's rich music heritage – namely cumbia, llanera, mapalé, African and Arab percussions. In much the same way, Girl Talk freely chops up and reassembles assorted bits of pop culture ephemera, playful copy-pasters, Diego Maldonado and Santiago Uribe drop nostalgia-tinged snippets of '80s and '90s Colombian pop culture into their spirited, soulful stew. Their first album, Ser De Juepuchas Varios Años (2009), pooled together over 1,000 sound fragments, producing a puzzle of collaged rhythm and collective memories.


text:
Currie Associates has been successfully supplying the hazardous materials and dangerous goods industry with quality products, training and services since 1990. Currie Associates' staff continually meets the ever-changing needs of our customers with products and consulting services on hazardous materials and dangerous goods transport. Our training, consulting and other services provide immediate, practical and valuable information designed to save you time and money and ensure you successfully meet the demands of competing in today's challenging environment.
The primary business of Currie Associates is to provide, on a worldwide basis, hazardous materials and dangerous goods shipping, consulting, hazmat training and auditing services. The company also prepares customized publications and training programs in addition to publishing a large library of compliance guides and training programs (covering 49 CFR, IMDG Code, ICAO, ADR, Transport Dangerous Goods (TDG) Canada, OSHA, HazCom, and other regulations).
We are recognized experts in the regulatory requirements of the US Department of Transportation (DOT), International Air Transport Association (IATA), International Civil Aviation Organization (ICAO), Transport Dangerous Goods (TDG) …READ MORE+


text:
Forms Jobs
Special Notes:
1* = Serving more than 50% of an unexpired term (more than one year & seven months of the term has expired).
0* = Serving less than 50% of an unexpired term (less than one year & six months of the term has expired).
Receive E-Mail Notification When New Information is Posted on this PageAs a member, enjoy the benefits of MyCityofWS, including your choice of newsletters, and notifications about events and site updates. Login and Manage Your Subscriptions Now.


text:
Sous Vide Tuning
Submitted by dave on
A while back I built a controller for doing home Sous Vide (write up to come...). It controls a hotplate under a pan of water and uses a digital temperature sensor to attempt to maintain a constant, precise temperature. I hacked together a simple control system, and found that it worked very badly for controlling a system with so much lag. I tried a bit of tweaking, but it was still not very good - a tendency to overshoot massively, and take a long time to cool down.


text:
John Peluso, president of Wells Fargo Advisors Financial Network, says the independent channel of Wells Fargo had a very good 2011, and he expects the group to have an even better 2012.
"In general, FiNet's yearly growth target is to help FAs open up between 75 to 100 new practices a year. And we believe this is sustainable," he said in a recent interview. "Including solo practitioners and teams, this entails about 140 to 200 advisors per year joining FiNet."
An important trend, both he and experts say, is that larger teams have been exploring and moving to independence with higher yearly fees and commissions than in the past. "We should continue to see this trend and strong organic growth, i.e. same-store sales," noted Peluso.
"We want mature business owners to join us, and we are best positioned to help them grow the business," said the executive, who joined the industry in 1988 at Wheat First Securities. "We hope to grow in the double digits going forward, in terms of revenue."
The average production of FiNet's roughly 1,100 advisors is about $530,000, or $1.05 million per team. Prospective FiNet reps that Peluso and his colleagues are talking to these days are generating even greater production, he says.
"The pipeline is bigger and better in terms of independent reps and teams," explained Peluso. "This started in the second half of 2011 and is continuing in the first half of 2012."
Still, going independent is not for everyone, he admits, and that "is a long-term trend." Nonetheless, there are probably three out of every 10 advisors exploring this option today vs. about 1 out of 10 in the past five to 10 years.
"Not all advisors are capable and want to run a small business," shared Peluso. "FiNet is about making that move as simple as possible. There are myths in the marketplace [about going independent] and through a partnership with us, we demystify this process."
The advantage FiNet offers, he notes, is that advisors have access to the resources of Wells Fargo: "We marry that with the advisor's ability to own and operate his or her own business. This is what makes us attractive to reps."
These are the pull factors. Push factors, Peluso shares, include events, like the ending of an advisor's retention loans, changes in branch management and complexes, mergers & acquisition and integration. "When events happen in the industry, we want to be top of mind for advisors," said the St. Louise-based executive.
As more time passes since the peak of the financial crisis, he explains, advisors "are gaining more confidence and are more likely to contemplate making a move." About 70% of recruited FiNet advisors come from a wirehouse, 15% from other national firms and 15% from Wells Fargo's private-client operations.
"I don't see this changing much. It's been a steady state for a while," Peluso noted. "We are not right for all. But for those we are right for, we are spectacular, and they can't wait to get here."
Making the Jump
Gary Gould of Gould Capital LLC in Tacoma, Wash., came over to FiNet from Merrill Lynch a year ago. "We have about $140 million in assets and do about $1.8 million in production," said Gould, who is joined in the practice by his father Charles and brother John.
The practice follows a "value-oriented model," said Gould. It was started by his dad, who worked for Merrill for 37 years.
How long had the team been thinking about going independent? "Too long!" said Gould. "We first really looked at independence in 2002. And we made the transition roughly 10 years later."
"It's a long process that required a lot of patience on the part of our ultimate partner," the advisor shared. "FiNet did really good job of hanging in there and providing us with the support we needed."
The motivation for the switch, he explains, is that the team members found themselves "using less and less of the firm's product and more of our own strategy … and we felt that the value we received vs. what we were giving to the firm was not there."
The Gould team also felt that FiNet staff members were "honest, trustworthy and persistent in what they told us," the advisor explained, "and there was no false information. That was important to us."
In addition, the team wanted its clients to be comfortable about the platform it was transitioning to. "Having the Wells Fargo Advisors name and having the firm as a custodian, meant feeling comfortable," said Gould.
As for why the advisors didn't go the RIA route when moving to independence, Gould says that "solution would not have been as successful and would have been more difficult" for the family team.
Roughly 98% of the team's clients moved with it. "Everything went as planned," he added. "We are extremely excited to have our own name on the practice, and clients are thrilled."
FiNet Shifts
To help FiNet reinvigorate its growing performance on an ongoing basis, the Innovation and Growth Team, consisting of 16 executive-level managers, was introduced in 2011. The team is "focused on looking at ways to ensure business growth by designating a specific leadership team and resources for this goal," said Peluso.
In parallel, Wells launched the Voluntary Growth Opportunity Award and is devoting more financial resources to this program in 2012, he adds. For instance, in the past these awards typically represented 1-4% of an advisor's or a team's annual production vs. current levels of 2-7%. "It's an annual payment that comes out of FiNet earnings to be reinvested in the business for growth of local franchises," explained Peluso.
To be eligible for the award, advisors and teams must hit certain targets of net new assets. "This is part of our quality hurdles, and there is also a scoring system tied to several best practices," shared the FiNet executive. This includes having written investment plans for clients, using bank solutions, employing written continuity plans and taking other steps to build client loyalty.
Advisors who join FiNet by June 30 are eligible for the program in 2013. "It's business as usual here," shared Peluso. "We're rather consistent in our approach and expect to open another 75-100 new businesses this year."


text:
Creighton ranked No. 11, McDermott honored
The Creighton men's basketball team moved up to No. 11 in both national polls released Monday. That's a jump of three spots in the Associated Press poll and one spot in the USA Today coaches poll.
The ascension in the polls comes on the heels of a 3-0 week that included double-digit victories over Longwood, Wisconsin and Arizona State last week.
Creighton is the only MVC team in the top-25 this week, but Wichita State is 28th in the AP poll and 33rd in the coaches poll. Other teams of interest that received votes in both polls are Wisconsin and future Bluejay opponents California and Saint Joseph's.
In addition to the team's success, junior forward Doug McDermott was honored by ESPN analyst Dick Vitale as his National Player of the Week. McDermott scored 30 points against Wisconsin, then added 29 more one night later against Arizona State. He also added 17 rebounds on the weekend en route to MVP honors at the Las Vegas Invitational.
McDermott was also named MVC Player of the Week. It's the second time this season he's been honored (also Nov. 12), and eighth honor in his career. In Valley history, only Hersey Hawkins (14) and Bob Harstad (8) have won the award more.
Creighton hosts Boise State on Wednesday at 7:05 p.m. at the CenturyLink Center Omaha.


text:
Please view all of the ISMAUK members that offer occupational stress consultancy services.
The International Stress Management Association [ISMAUK] is a registered charity and the lead professional body for workplace and personal Stress Management, Well-being and Performance. We promote sound knowledge and best practice, nationally and internationally.
Registered Charity Number 1088103. Company registered in England. Company limited by guarantee, number 4079657
Registered Office; Aston House,
Cornwall Avenue, London, N3 1LF
Copyright © 2009 - 2019 ISMAUK


text:
Men of War: Assault Squad features a completely new cooperative skirmish game mode with access to five different nations (Russia, Germany, USA, Commonwealth and, for the first time ever in the Men of War series, Japan) as well as increased realism and accessibility.
The addon you are trying to view (gaw skins - gaw_skins.rar) uploaded by fatcharles7500 has been deleted and is no longer available. This may have occurred at the uploaders request, or it may have occurred because it violated the sites Terms of Use. If this is a mistake and you are the uploader of this addon and would like it re-activated, please contact us with the details.
We recommend you return to the download list and browse the links from there.


text:
Actual rating will vary with options, driving conditions, habits and vehicle condition.
The standard features of the Lexus ES 300h Base include 2.5L I-4 215hp hybrid gas engine, 1-speed CVT transmission with overdrive, 4-wheel anti-lock brakes (ABS), side seat mounted airbags, curtain 1st and 2nd row overhead airbags, rear side-impact airbag, driver and passenger knee airbag, airbag occupancy sensor, automatic air conditioning, 17" aluminum wheels, cruise control, Dynamic Radar Cruise Control distance pacing, ABS and driveline traction control, electronic stability.
Starting at: $47,000 + Sales Taxes*
|City/Hwy L/100 km
|Search New
|176-hp 2.5L 4-cyl
|continuously variable auto
|6 / 5


text:
johnqh needed a new logo design and created a contest on 99designs.
A winner was selected from 85 designs submitted by 37 freelance designers.
Logo will be used on our website, and in our marketing materials.
Send fax without modem
Desired Color Scheme:
Desired Style:
Accepted File Formats:
Standard Web Formats (.jpg, .gif or .png); Layered Formats (.psd or .tiff)
I need a logo for outfax.net, a new internet fax service I am developing. It is similar to the existing fax services like efax and maxemail, with some twists.
The logo should convey the idea of "fax". It should be professional looking yet contemporary.
Find out how a design contest works or learn more about our logo design services.


text:
North Korea has extended the window for a widely condemned long-range rocket launch by a week after discovering a "technical deficiency", the isolated state's news agency said on Monday.
The launch, viewed by the United States, Japan and South Korea as a test for developing a ballistic missile capable of delivering a nuclear warhead, had been scheduled for Dec. 10-22 to coincide with the first anniversary of the death of former North Korean ruler Kim Jong-il.
"(Engineers) found a technical deficiency in the first-stage control engine module of the rocket carrying the satellite and decided to extend the satellite launch period up to Dec. 29," the KCNA news agency quoted a space agency spokesman as saying.
North Korea is banned from carrying out any missile or nuclear-related tests by U.N. resolutions imposed in 2006 and 2009 after it conducted nuclear tests. A third rocket launch, in April, ended in failure.
The North insists this launch is aimed merely at putting a weather satellite into orbit. But it is believed to be developing an intercontinental missile with a range of more than 6,700 km which would have the capacity to hit the continental United States.
A South Korean news report said on Monday that the North was moving a new rocket component to its missile test site. A trailer carrying the component, believed to be a third-stage rocket, was seen by satellite on Saturday being moved from a missile plant in Pyongyang to the Tongchang-ri missile launch site, the Chosun Ilbo newspaper quoted a government source as saying.
Officials at South Korea's intelligence service and the military declined to confirm the report, citing their policy of not commenting on intelligence matters.
It is impossible to verify events inside North Korea, which is one of the world's most closed states that tightly controls news and information about its military and its leadership.
This launch was timed to mark the first anniversary of the death of Kim Jong-il, although it also coincides with elections in North Korea's historically bitter foes, South Korea and Japan.
Japan has installed a missile interceptor at its Defence Ministry headquarters in case the rocket goes astray, a procedure that has become routine ahead of North Korean rocket launches. The planned flight path does not go near Japan.
The April launch failed minutes after blast off, something the North owned up to in a rare admission of failure.