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Bayley Hazen Blue
Bayley Hazen Blue is a natural rinded blue cheese. It is made with whole raw milk every other day, primarily with morning milk, which is lower in fat. The paste of a Bayley Hazen is drier than most blues and the penicillium roqueforti takes a back seat to an array of flavors that hint at nuts and grasses and in the odd batch, licorice. Though drier and crumblier than most blues, its texture reminds one of chocolate and butter. It is aged between 4 and 6 months.
English Huntsman
Two wonderful cheeses matched together in Huntsman; Double Gloucester and Blue Stilton. Three layers of a rich creamy flavor of the Double Gloucester hold two layers of a strong, richly veined Blue Stilton, resulting in a delicious and beautiful cheese - you will love this combination as it offers a little bit of both worlds. The two traditional cheeses are married together in a modern version of cheesemaking.
Prairie Breeze
Cheese developed by small Amish Farms in Iowa. In the category of Mature Cheddar but made produced similar to an Aged Gouda. Nutty, buttery with a soft finish and crunch from the natural Enzymes from the aging process.
Beneath the bright orange wax lies a mature creamy cheddar speckled with fresh horseradish and parsley. It's very tangy and zesty with a nice edge of heat that really tingles on your tongue.
Harlech takes it name from the Welsh warriors of the Middle ages and is one of the deliciously different flavoured cheeses coming out of Wales. It's an intriguing mouthful with a wonderful mellow cheddary smoothness.
Pairing- The horseradish in Harlech makes it the perfect partner for beef. Try it melted on a steak or in a cold roast beef sandwich with good fresh white bread. Wine Pairing- Harlech certainly needs a strong red partner like our Beronia Crianza Rioja or our Riseccoli Chianti and some plain crackers.
Fresh mozzarella is generally white, but may vary seasonally to slightly yellow depending on the animal's diet. It is a semi-soft cheese.
Manchego is a delicious hard cheese made of sheep's milk. Manchego cheese is only made in the La Mancha Region of Spain, it's the only place in the world where real Manchego can be made. The milk used in Manchego cheese has to come from Manchega Sheep, an ancient breed which is used to thriving up on the high plains of La Mancha. Once made, the cheese has to be aged in natural caves for at least two months.
Buttermilk Blue
This delicately-laced Blue Cheese is created from raw milk for the creamiest taste and texture. Tangy yet mellow. Bold yet restrained. Perfect for cooking, crumbling or eating out of hand. Cellar-aged for at least 2 months.
Le Délice de Bourgogne
Le Délice de Bourgogne, also known as Delice cheese, is a French cow's milk cheese from the Burgundy region of France. The cheese is rich and creamy due to the cheese making process where cream is added twice to the milk during the making of the cheese. This cheese also has a strong pungent aroma due to its ripening process.
Aged Parmesan
Aged Parmesan is aged longer than other hard grating-cheese, and is known for its complex flavor and granular texture.
Red Dragon
Red Dragon is an English Cheddar with Whole Grain Mustard and Ale
Cashel Blue
Characterful but not strong. It is pleasant, firm and creamy edged with an established blue character which is offset by a mouth-watering tanginess. By 3 months of maturation Cashel Blue will have broken down to a richer, fuller and rounder flavour developing greater creaminess as it matures up to 6 months. Cashel Blue has a white paste when young turning increasingly towards a buttery yellow as it matures. Throughout this paste there is a blueing often referred to as having marble-like pattern. The rind, which with time can develop a film of surface mould is untreated and is therefore edible. It is intrinsic to the cheese and contributes to the breaking down of the paste, adding further flavour and complexity. The rind can taste saltier than the inner paste.
Creamy Gorgonzola
Creamy Gorgonzola is a veined Italian Blue Cheese, made from unskimmed cow's milk. It can be buttery or firm, crumbly and quite salty, with a "bite" from its blue veining. Gorgonzola may be eaten in many ways. It may be melted into a risotto in the final stage of cooking, or served alongside polenta.
Bleu d'Auvergne
Bleu d'Auvergne is produced in the "Massif Central" between Puy-de-Dôme and Cantal. The area is characterized by volcanic and granitic soil, which is rich in oligo-elements. Although sheep are mostly raised there, producers use cow's milk for Bleu d'Auvergne, which gives it a creamier taste than Roquefort, made with ewe's milk. The smell of Bleu d'Auvergne is strong. The taste is spicy with flavors of grasses and wild flowers. Bleu d'Auvergne is best served at room temperature. Bleu d'Auvergne is perfect in salad dressings. It goes very well with nuts and raw mushrooms. Bleu d'Auvergne is a good choice as an aperitif, when added to buttered canapés served as cocktail snacks. You may also try a small piece of Bleu d'Auvergne on a slice of apple!
Port Salut
Port Salut is a semi-soft pasteurized cow's milk cheese from Pays de la Loire, France with a distinctive orange crust and mild flavor.
Aged Gouda
Aged Gouda is a Dutch cheese made from pasteurized cow's milk. A well aged Gouda complements wines that are deeply flavored such as a rich Merlot or Shiraz. Gouda cheese may be grated, sliced, cubed or melted. It may be used as a table cheese or dessert cheese.
Medium Provolone
Medium Provolone is made with whole cow's milk and aged at least 60 days. Never smoked and never bleached, it is an excellent melting cheese and slices without crumbling or sticking to the slicer.


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I am a perfectionist. I used to think it was one of my better parts but I am learning that it is more of a fault than a virtue.
Thankfully, baking requires a sort of perfectionism, so it doesn't judge me when I break out my kitchen scale.
I have been playing around with biscuit recipes for many years. Like pie crust, everyone has their own opinion when it comes to biscuitry. (I'm making up words again - just go with it.)
My biscuit stipulations are simple. I want it light and fluffy but robust enough to hold up to the ridiculous amount of butter I'm going to heap on it. I also prefer my biscuits to be slightly sweet. It is, after all, a pastry.
I might also put sliced almonds on top because I think it looks pretty. I'm basically a make-up artist for biscuits. No big deal.
There is this other thing that I do where I mindlessly throw random ingredients into butter. It always works out. It's butter.
So how do we achieve perfect light and fluffy, yet robust, sweet, and pretty biscuits? First, we take special care to measure our ingredients. That means a kitchen scale - when it comes to baking pastries the kitchen scale is nonnegotiable. It also means a combination of cake and all-purpose flour. And finally, it takes the courage to walk away from that rough dough that is begging you to keep mixing it. Just walk away.
These biscuits met all my criteria. They had a rendezvous with some jazzed up butter. It was breakfast. There was coffee. Hello weekend.
Pedantic Foodie
Sweet Buttermilk Biscuits {Pedantic Foodie}
Sweet Buttermilk Biscuits
makes 12 biscuits
- 20 ounces all purpose flour
- 5 ounces cake flour
- 1 ounce granulated sugar
- 2 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 8 ounces unsalted butter, cold
- 2 cups buttermilk
- 2 tablespoons heavy cream
- sliced almonds, optional
Preheat oven to 425 degree F.
Whisk to combine flours, sugar, baking powder, and salt.
Cut cold butter into cubes and add to flour mixture. Using the tips of your fingers work the butter into the dry ingredients until the butter is in pea-sized pieces.
Add cold buttermilk to biscuit mixture and fold the milk into the dough gently.
When a rough dough is formed turn it out onto a floured surface and roll to 3/4 inch in thickness. Using a biscuit cutter or over-turned glass, cut the dough into rounds.
Place the biscuits on a parchment-lined baking sheet, brush the tops with cream and sprinkle with almonds.
Bake the biscuits for 15 minutes or until golden brown. While the biscuits are baking prepare the butter.
for the butter
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
- 1/4 cup honey
- 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 1/2 teaspoons almond extract
Whisk ingredients in a small bowl until well combined and smooth. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes, until set. Serve alongside warm biscuits - enjoy!

subset: commoncrawl


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Latest in Paleo 107: Rubik's Decahedron/
Quick Description
On this week's show: Is the Paleo Diet bad for your cholesterol levels? What's the consensus on the saturated fat debate? Even the pharmaceutical companies are complaining about bad research at Universities; General Mills backtracks on its new legal policy. Thoughts on perfection in the Moment of Paleo segment. And, After the Bell, Arthur Haines describes what he calls Paleo Myths.
Listen on iTunes • Download MP3
- PuraKai - Use coupon code "latestinpaleo" for free shipping on all orders. Amazingly comfortable, responsible threads. PuraKai is the grass-fed beef of clothing. Clothing for men, women & children. Check out the new beanies!
- TX Bar Organics - Use coupon code "latestinpaleo" to save 10% (one word, all lowercase). Grass-fed and grass finished raised on a family ranch in California. They provide steaks, roasts, offal cuts, ribs, stew meat, ground beef and more shipped anywhere in the continental United States.
- Win a $500 TX Bar Organics Giftcard: http://eepurl.com/QJwH5
- Life Below Zero
- National Geographic Channel, Tralier: http://channel.nationalgeographic.com/channel/life-below-zero/videos/life-below-zero-trailer/
- General Mills Backtracks on Legal Policy (Thanks, Laurie D.)
- Paleo Diet Bad for Cholesterol (Thanks, Michael A.)
- International Journal of Exercise Science: http://digitalcommons.wku.edu/ijes/vol7/iss2/4/
- Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine: http://pcrm.org/health/medNews/
- Dr. Briffa: http://www.drbriffa.com/2014/04/18/more-evidence-links-higher-cholesterol-with-improved-immunity/
- CarbSane Asylum: http://carbsanity.blogspot.com/2013/05/that-paleo-study.html
- American Journal of Hypertension (on salt): http://ajh.oxfordjournals.org/content/early/2014/03/26/ajh.hpu028.full
- Loren Cordain's Blog (on salt): http://thepaleodiet.com/sea-salt-devil-deep-blue-sea/
- Canadian Medical Association Journal (on legumes): http://www.cmaj.ca/site/misc/pr/7april14_pr.xhtml
- Saturated Fat on Dr. Oz with Peter Attia (Thanks, Don S.)
- Part 1, YouTube: http://youtu.be/6t6T0l14-n4
- Part 2, YouTube: http://youtu.be/4FdpWvA3v3Y
- 3News, New Zealand: http://www.3news.co.nz/Saturated-fats-health-benefits-under-scrutiny/tabid/1771/articleID/341247/Default.aspx
- Studies Don't Hold Up (Thanks, Steven R.)
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- Thank you Scott H. in Bloomington, MN; Peter F. in Auburn, CA; and David B. in Parts Unknown.
- And you, too! Use a Latest in Paleo Amazon Link before your next online purchase...costs you nothing and makes Latest in Paleo possible. It's as easy as using one of the links below to visit the Amazon homepage for your country to reach Amazon's homepage.
Moment of Paleo
- Decahedron Cube
After the Bell
- Arthur Haines, Paleo Diet Myths
- YouTube: http://youtu.be/UmmUlgckXF4
- Arthur Haines' Website: http://www.arthurhaines.com/
This Week's Music Selections
- http://ccmixter.org/files/cuajitoben/29148 - Opening
- http://ccmixter.org/files/Zapac/26047 - Intro
- http://ccmixter.org/files/rocavaco/24638 - Outro


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While I'm not (yet) a new mom my mind is constantly there. Every clothing item I've purchased in the past year has been moving towards soft fabrics, comfy dresses and lower-heeled shoes. If you aren't in the know, we are in the process of adopting (read more here) and currently are waiting to be chosen by a birth mother. We've been told by our agency that birth mothers typically present in their last trimester, so once we're chosen it's quite possible we'll only have a couple months before we have a baby! We already have the nursery ready (see pics here!), have been given tons of great hand-me-downs, are registered for some other things and are doing a fundraiser in October to offset the cost of the loan. Being the fashion-lover I am, I've been thinking a lot about what my "new mommy" style will look like. I'm prepared to pretty much look like a zombie for the first month (and probably several months beyond that too!) but want to keep some semblence of looking put-together, at least when I go out. And with having worked from home for the past 7 years, I absolutely understand the hazards of getting too comfortable and not changing out of pj's, yet also the need to be comfortable because - let's be honest - sometimes I set up shop on the couch! So I decided to make my own list of things I personally do now that could help me later when I'm sleep deprived and not feeling so creative. I'm sharing that list with you today and would LOVE to hear your thoughts! *
1. Shoes/Boots/Booties – Make your shoes the standout piece. Maybe pre-baby you invested in some fabulous OTK boots but never think to wear them now? How about those red loafers that get compliments every time you wear them? And honestly, you can NEVER go wrong with leopard flats. Shoes are a new mommies best accessory. Keep your outfit simple, put them on before you walk out the door and kick them off once back in the house!
2. Printed or Patterned Sweater – Having a go-to patterned sweater to add to a white tee or tank plus jeans you can pull your look together in less than 30 seconds! Once again, this is a piece that can be taken right off once you get back in the house or slipped into your bag if you get warm while out (those new babies are like little heaters!)
3. Ponytail or half pony – Here's a simple tip on how to make a ponytail "fancy": After you've secured all your hair, take a small piece from the underside of the ponytail and wrap it around the holder, then fasten with a bobby pin. Another option is to use a barrette that has fake hair similar to your own color. Bonus points: create a small braid with your bangs and use a bobby pin to clip it the side. Default trick: If it's Day 2 hair and there's still some hope for the ends, here's another option: add a fedora or wool floppy hat. This one step makes casual items appear intentional and takes them from individual pieces to pulled-together outfit.
4. Blazer - Blazers have long been the fashion star of the corporate world but I love taking them in a more casual direction by pairing them with jeans and a graphic tee. Going with a basic black blazer, white tee and jeans can take you immediately to cool girl status. OR you can really have fun with this and add more than just the basics to your blazer collection. They don't have to be your stuffy work blazer, either. Try a blazer/sweater combo with leather sleeves. How about a striped collarless one, like this one below? Or, find one in a soft cotton and it's as comfortable as wearing a sweater! (Editor's note: both of these pairings will look fab with or without the necklace....keep reading for a baby-friendly necklace option!).
5. Jewelry – While I know you aren't able to wear dangly earrings (shop some great studs here), you can wear bracelets & baby-friendly necklaces! (Whoever had this great idea was a genius!) Buy them for either you to wear or baby. ) Personally I like the ones you wear because....#accessories.
There are SO many shops making these great baby-friendly non-toxic necklaces now! This one is from Mama & Little but I've also found a bunch on Etsy!
And a final tip: Add a tunic or dress over those leggings! OK, here's the deal with leggings. First - and MOST important - they are NOT pants. Repeat after me: NOT PANTS. SO - while I understand sometimes you have to run to the store right after the gym (and that's ok), anytime other than this do not substitute leggings or yoga pants for real pants. If you are wearing leggings, make it intentional with a long (must come past your ladyparts!) sweater, furry vest, long tee or a cute dress that might be a tad to short on its own. Add some booties or fun flats and voila - outfit ready.
*Here's a bonus tip from a super stylish mommy I know: "Find a bag/tote/purse that works for you and add your baby gear to that. Most diaper bags are clunky and ugly or EXPENSIVE (although I know a few fans of the Petunia Picklebottom brand, but again $$$). Instead, use this handy travel case for diapers, wipes and pacifiers. You can also easily move it from purse to purse! Check out my super stylish mommy friend's instagram feed for even more great style tips!


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- Absinthe was banned in the U.S.A. from 1912-2007.
- Lucid Absinthe is the first bonafide absinthe to be sold legally in the U.S.A. since 1912. Learn more from this article at wired.com.
- Absinthe contains almost twice as much alcohol as vodka, whiskey, and other spirits.
- Absinthe is rumored to cause hallucinations. Like many a rumor, this one is false — though this does not stop people from disseminating it.


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SIV is about "Simulating Situations in Flight" and learning how to deal with them in a safe environment under the guidance of an instructor. These "situations" may range from canopy collapses (of which there are several different sorts), pitching, stalls and spins; another major part is also perfecting your rapid descent techniques. It also teaches you about the handling characteristics of your wing at the edges of its flight envelope. What it will feel like just prior to an unstable situation and how to make the correct inputs at the right time if it does become unstable. We guide pilots under radio supervision through a progressive set of manoeuvres to build their understanding and confidence in handling their paraglider and building up to more complicated manoeuvres.
The SIV course is tailored to each individual on the course. As such there is no set schedule, and the information below should be seen more as a framework within which your instructor will formulate a specific plan based on your individual needs, in discussion with you and based on your course objectives.
You will not be asked to carry out any manoeuvres with which you feel uncomfortable. That being said, the course is designed to challenge your comfort zone and we encourage you to take advantage of the expertise on offer in a safe and highly conducive learning environment.
For our 2019 courses, we will start in early February, and we have scheduled each of our clinics to run over 3 days from Friday to Sunday from 8 February to early March. We may add further dates if demand requires. We will also be offering thermaling and XC clinics during the weekdays in February, so that those attending an SIV course have an opportunity to stay longer in thailand and learn about Cross country flying.
Pilots intending to join us should arrive in Thailand on the Thursday night so that we have 3 full days to complete the course.
Please get in touch if you need any more information regarding the course.
Instructor: Matty Senior
Please note - paragliding equipment is NOT included in the course price.
8 - 10 FEB (few spaces)
22-24 FEB (few spaces)
1 - 3 MAR (spaces)
$750 (course only)
$1050 (incl. transfers + resort accommodation)
Please note - paragliding equipment is NOT included in the course price.
This course will run over 3 days with the first day (Friday) usually being used for preparation, including equipment checks and classroom theory / simulations for both towing and the SIV course elements. The weekend days will include 3 tows and SIV manoeuvres per day per person. However we are flexible on where and when we fly so that we can take advantage of the best flying conditions. We have a maximum of 7 pilots per course. If you are unable to arrive on the Thursday night, this is possible, but we would urge you to try and arrive on Friday as early as you can.
The "course only" price on the left includes radios, life jackets, motorised rescue boat, transport to/from the SIV location, radio guidance, 6 tows and theory, and use of a front mounted reserve. The "inclusive" price on the left includes the course PLUS transport to/from Bangkok airport, hotel accommodation for 3 nights on a single basis. If you would prefer twin sharing accommodation for 3 nights, the inclusive cost is reduced by $100 (i.e. $950).
Right from the beginning of your pilot training, a SIV course can be beneficial for improving your technique whilst understanding your wing's reactions. The programme of the course will be adapted to your level. Even if you are a novice pilot a SIV course will allow you to perfect your piloting technique so you can improve your performance and safety. If you have already done one or more SIV courses and want to start on Acro manoeuvres then we can help you achieve this too, by taking you through the right steps and manoeuvres adapted to your level. You will gain the following skills over the duration of the course:
Increase your confidence in yourself and your wing; Learning to use the right inputs at the right time; Optimising your rapid descents techniques; Understanding the reactions of your wing in turbulence; To make you a safer and more aware pilot; Build up confidence with a new wing, or recover confidence after a flight incident.
Our SIV clinic includes detailed tuition on towing. After 3 days you will be well versed in this highly useful launch technique.
Watch some of our students being taken through various SIV manoeuvres


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Parking Sensor
Parking Sensor is professional inform the driver of obstacles around the situation and help drivers improve driving safety, can help you avoid those backup collisions that happen so easily. We offer you High Quality Backup Sensor or Reverse Sensor at the lowest price.
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Ok guys I was just listening to music on youtube and right before the song started playing there was an ad of a movie/documentary called pop star. Disclaimer Carrie isn't the pop star the pop star is someone who I'm not familiar with but anyways in the ad I saw Carrie Underwood and simon cowell.
I'm going to try to find the video of the ad but if I can't find it just listen to country music for a while on youtube and you might see the ad that I saw.
ok here's the ad skip to 0.30 for Carrie
Note in this ad Carrie appears for like 1 second so while Carrie appears at 0.30 you might want to start the video at 0.26 so you don't miss her, 0.26 is when simon cowell appears in the commercial.
Thanks for sharing again. This ad was posted on here a while back. As much as I love Carrie sightings, I don't think it's a movie I will be interested in, lol.


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By Ben Doy
American rock/folk band Dawes are heading to New Zealand this week where they're playing as part of The Southern Fork Americana Fest this Thursday night at The Tuning Fork in Auckland.
Consisting of Taylor Goldsmith, Griffin Goldsmith and Wylie Gelber, the band this year released their fourth studio album All Your Favourite Bands.
We had the chance to for a quick chat with Wylie ahead of their trip downunder.
Dawes was created out of the ashes of Simon Dawes and brought a new sound. How did that come about?
With Simon Dawes we were young at the time and were trying to figure out what style of music we like to play. We were a little more modern or a little heavier maybe. But pretty much by the end of Simon Dawes there were songs that you can hear on the first Dawes record. So it was never as drastic, to me at least, as people say it was. To me it was like this band has broken up and we kinda ran with a sound that our old band was heading to.
Where did the name Dawes come from?
Our singer and drummer's grandfather; his name was Dawes. Then when Simon Dawes broke up we thought let's just take half the name... because half of us were starting this band.
You recently released your fourth studio album 'All Your Favourite Bands'. How long were you working on that album for?
We took our producer on a short tour for us, a couple of weeks before we went to record it. Normally you go into a studio and do pre-production, which is kind of like working through the songs with the producer and get everything ready to go. But with this one we decided to do that kind of like on a little short California tour that we went on, just playing bars. We brought the producer with us, so by the time we got to Nashville we recorded it all fairly quick. We were in Nashville for about a month, but maybe only recording for about 2 or 3 weeks.
And you pretty much recorded it entirely live?
Yeah, and that's the reason it goes so quick. Whenever you record live it there are some songs that are fine on the first take and some that take fifty. And this record was the same, there are a couple of songs in there that maybe we played once and sounded great... maybe did another one just to be safe. And they'd be other songs that we slaved over for 3 or 4 days, recording versions of it over and over again. And then we'd end up going back and using one of the earlier recordings.
How does the songwriting process work within Dawes?
Taylor writes the songs with the lyrics, just the core of it. Like folk songs for lack of better words. Then he'll take that to a rehearsal with us and we'll kind of shape the feel and the sound of what that song should be.
You're heading here very shortly as part of The Southern Fork Americana Fest. Will it be your first time in New Zealand?
Yeah, and I'm bummed that we're only going to be there for like a day or something. We've only been to Australia once, so this is the first time that they've added on New Zealand too. It should be pretty cool.
What are your plans following your NZ visit and then heading into 2016?
We've got a couple more things on the books, just little stuff in the States. Sooner than later we're going to try and record a new record. Whenever we have down time and not on tour, we try to get in to the studio so will hopefully start working on that as soon as we can.
Thursday October 22nd: The Tuning Fork, Auckland
Tickets via Ticketmaster


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This story, "Dream Engine," was first published in Intergalactic Medicine Show in August 2006. The characters Howlaa and Wisp (and the Regent) are major figures in my novel The Nex, so this is a good introduction to their world… though the protagonist of The Nex is an entirely new character, and that story takes place some time after this one. Enjoy!
Dream Engine
The Stolen State, The Magpie City, The Nex, The Ax – this is the place where I live, and hover, and chafe in my service; the place where I take my small bodiless pleasures where I may. Nexington-on-Axis is the proper name, the one the Regent uses in his infrequent public addresses, but most of the residents call it other things, and my – prisoner? partner? charge? trust? – my associate, Howlaa Moor, calls it The Cage, at least when zie is feeling sorry for zimself.
The day the fat man began his killing spree, I woke early, while Howlaa slept on, in a human form that snored. I looked down on the streets of our neighborhood, home to low-level government servants and the wretchedly poor. The sky was bleak, and rain filled the potholes. The royal orphans had snatched a storm from somewhere, which was good, as the district's roof gardens needed rain.
I saw a messenger approach through the cratered street. I didn't recognize his species – he was bipedal, with a tail, and his skin glistened like a salamander's, though his gait was birdlike – but I recognized the red plume jutting from his headband, which allowed him to go unmolested through this rough quarter.
"Howlaa," I said. "Wake. A messenger approaches."
Howlaa stirred on the heaped bedding, furs and silks piled indiscriminately with burlap and canvas and even coarser fabrics, because Howlaa's kind enjoy having as much tactile variety as possible. And, I suspect, because Howlaa likes to taunt me with reminders of the physical sensations I can not experience.
"Shushit, Wisp," Howlaa said. My name is not Wisp, but that is what zie calls me, and I have long since given up on changing the habit. "The messenger could be coming for anyone. There are four score civil servants on this block alone. Let me sleep." Howlaa picked up a piece of half-eaten globe-fruit and hurled it at me. It passed through me without effect, of course, but it annoyed me, which was Howlaa's intent.
"The messenger has a red plume, skinshifter," I said, making my voice resonate, making it creep and rattle in tissues and bones, so sleep or shutting-me-out would be impossible.
"Ah. Blood business, then." Howlaa threw off furs, rose, and stretched, arms growing more joints and bends as zie moved, unfolding like origami in flesh. I could not help a little subvocal gasp of wonder as zir skin rippled and shifted and settled into Howlaa's chosen morning shape. I have no body, and am filled with wonder at Howlaa's mastery of physical form.
Howlaa settled into the form of a male Nagalinda, a biped with long limbs, a broad face with opalescent eyes, and a lipless mouth full of triangular teeth. Nagalinda are fearsome creatures with a reputation for viciousness, though I have found them no more uniformly monstrous than any other species; their cultural penchant for devouring their enemies has earned them a certain amount of notoriety even in the Ax, though. Howlaa liked to take on such forms to terrify government messengers if zie could. Such behavior was insubordinate, but it was such a small rebellion that the Regent didn't even bother to reprimand Howlaa for it – and having such willfully rude behavior so completely disregarded only served to annoy Howlaa further.
The Regent knew how to control us, which levers to tug and which leads to jerk, which is why he was the Regent, and we were in his employ. I often think the Regent controls the city as skillfully as Howlaa controls zir own form, and it is a pretty analogy, for the Ax is almost as mutable as Howlaa's body.
The buzzer buzzed. "Why don't you get that?" Howlaa said, grinning. "Oh, yes, right, no hands, makes opening the door tricky. I'll get it, then."
Howlaa opened the door to the messenger, who didn't find the Nagalinda form especially terrifying. The messenger was too frightened of the fat man and the Regent to spare any fear for Howlaa.
I floated. Howlaa ambled. The messenger hurried ahead, hurried back, hurried ahead again, like an anxious pet. Howlaa could not be rushed, and I went at the pace Howlaa chose, of necessity, but I sympathized with the messenger's discomfort. Being bound so closely to the Regent's will made even tardiness cause for bone-deep anxiety.
"He's a fat human, with no shirt on, carrying a giant battle-axe, and he chopped up a brace of Beetleboys armed with dung-muskets?" Howlaa's voice was blandly curious, but I knew zie was incredulous, just as I was.
"So the messenger reports," I said.
"And then he disappeared, in full view of everyone in Moth Moon Market?"
"Why do you repeat things?" I asked.
"I just wondered if it would sound more plausible coming from my own mouth. But even my vast reserves of personal conviction fail to lend the story weight. Perhaps the Regent made it all up, and plans to execute me when I arrive." Howlaa sounded almost hopeful. "Would you tell me, little Wisp, if that were his plan?"
Howlaa imagines I have a closer relationship with the Regent than I do, and has always believed I willingly became a civil servant. Howlaa does not know I am bound to community service for my past crimes, just as Howlaa is, and I allow this misconception because it allows me to act superior and, on occasion, even condescend, which is one of the small pleasures available to we bodiless ones. "I think you are still too valuable and tractable for the Regent to kill," I said.
"Perhaps. But I find the whole tale rather unlikely."
Howlaa walked along with zir mouth open, letting the rain fall into zir mouth, tasting the weather of other worlds, looking at the clouds.
I looked everywhere at once, because it is my duty and burden to look, and record, and, when called upon, to bear witness. I never sleep, but every day I go into a small dark closet and look at the darkness for hours, to escape my own senses. So I saw everything in the streets we passed, for the thousandth time, and though details were changed, the essential nature of the neighborhood was the same. The buildings were mostly brute and functional, structures stolen from dockyards, ghettoes, and public housing projects, taken from the worst parts of the thousand thousand worlds that grind around and above Nexington-on-Axis in the complicated gearwork that supports the structure of all the universes. We live in the pivot, and all times and places turns past us eventually, and we residents of the Ax grab what we can from those worlds in the moment of their passing – and so our city grows, and our traders trade, and our government prospers. It is kleptocracy on a grand scale.
But sometimes we grasp too hastily, and the great snatch-engines tended by the Regent's brood of royal orphans become overzealous in their cross-dimensional thieving, and we take things we didn't want after all, things the other worlds must be glad to have lost. Unfortunate imports of that sort can be a problem, because they sometimes disrupt the profitable chaos of the city, which the Regent cannot allow. Solving such problems is Howlaa's job.
We passed out of our neighborhood into a more flamboyant one, filled with emptied crypts, tombs, and other oddments of necropoli, from chipped marble angels to fragments of ornamental wrought iron. To counteract this funereal air, the residents had decorated their few square blocks as brightly and ostentatiously as possible, so that great papier-mâché birds clung to railings, and tombs were painted yellow and red and blue. In the central plaza, where the pavement was made of ancient headstones laid flat, a midday market was well underway. The pale vendors sold the usual trinkets, obtained with privately-owned low-yield snatch-engines, along with the district's sole specialty, the exotic mushrooms grown in cadaver-earth deep in the underground catacombs. Citizens shied away from the red-plumed messenger, bearer of bloody news, and shied further away at the sight of Howlaa, because Nagalinda seldom strayed from their own part of the city, except on errands of menace.
As we neared the edge of the plaza there was a great crack and whoosh, and a wind whipped through the square, eddying the weakly-linked charged particles that made up my barely-physical form.
A naked man appeared in the center of the square. He did not rise from a hidden trapdoor, did not drop from a passing airship, did not slip in from an adjoining alley. Anyone else might have thought he'd arrived by such an avenue, but I see in all directions, to the limits of vision, and the man was simply there.
Such magics were not unheard of, but they were never associated with someone like this. He appeared human, about six-feet tall, bare-chested and obese, pale skin smeared with blood. He was bald, and his features were brutish, almost like a child's clay figure of a man.
He held an absurd sword in his right hand, the blade as long as he was tall, but curved like a scimitar in a theatrical production about air-pirates, and it appeared to be made of gold, an impractical metal for weaponry. When he smiled, his lips peeled back to show an amazing array of yellow stump-teeth. He reared back his right arm and swung the sword, striking a merrow-woman swaddled all over in wet towels, nearly severing her arm. The square plunged into chaos, with vendors, customers, and passers-by screaming and fleeing in all directions, while the fat man kept swinging his sword, moving no more than a step or two in any direction, chopping people down as they ran.
"The reports were accurate after all," Howlaa said. "I'll go sort this." The messenger stood behind us, whimpering, tugging at Howlaa's arm, trying to get zim to leave.
"No," I said. "We were ordered to report to the Regent, and that's what we'll do."
Howlaa spoke with exaggerated patience. "The Regent will only tell me to find and kill this man. Why not spare myself the walk, and kill him now? Or do you think the Regent would prefer that I let him kill more of the city's residents?"
We both knew the Regent was uninterested in the well-being of individual citizens – more residents were just a snatch-and-grab away, after all – but I could tell Howlaa would not be swayed. I considered invoking my sole real power over Howlaa, but I was under orders to take that extreme step only in the event that Howlaa tried to escape the Ax or harm one of the royal orphans. "I do not condone this," I said.
"I don't care." Howlaa strode into the still-flurrying mass of people. In a few moments zie was within range of the fat man's swinging sword. Howlaa ducked under the man's wild swings, and reached up with a long arm to grab the man's wrist. By now most of the people able to escape the square had done so, and I had a clear view of the action.
The fat man looked down at Howlaa as if zie were a minor annoyance, then shook his arm as if to displace a biting fly.
Howlaa flew through the air and struck a red-and-white striped crypt headfirst, landing in a heap.
The fat man caught sight of the messenger – who was now rather pointlessly trying to cower behind me – and sauntered over. The fat man was extraordinarily bow-legged, his chest hair was gray, and his genitals were entirely hidden under the generous flop of his belly-rolls.
As always in these situations, I wondered what it would be like to fear for my physical existence, and regretted that I would never know.
Behind the fat man, Howlaa rose, rippled, and transformed, taking on zir most fearsome shape, a creature I had never otherwise encountered, that Howlaa called a Rendigo. It was reptilian, armored in sharpened bony plates, with a long snout reminiscent of the were-crocodiles that lived in the sewer labyrinths below the Regent's palace. The Rendigo's four arms were useless for anything but killing, paws gauntleted in razor scales, with claws that dripped blinding toxins, and its four legs were capable of great speed and leaps. Howlaa seldom resorted to this form, because it came with a heavy freight of biochemical killing rage that could be hard to shake off afterward. Howlaa leapt at the fat man, landing on his back with unimaginable force, poison-wet claws flashing.
The fat man swiveled at the waist and flung Howlaa off his back, not even breaking stride, raising his sword over the messenger. The fat man was uninjured; all the blood and nastiness that streaked his body came from his victims. His sword passed through me and cleaved the messenger nearly in two.
The fat man smiled, looking at his work, then frowned, and blinked. His body flickered, becoming transparent in places, and he moaned before disappearing.
Howlaa, back in Nagalinda form, crouched and vomited out a sizzling stream of Rendigo venom and biochemical rage-agents.
Howlaa wiped zir mouth, then stood up, glancing at the dead messenger. "Let's try it your way, Wisp. On to the Regent's palace. Perhaps he has an idea for… another approach to the problem."
I thought about saying "I told you so." I couldn't think of any reason to refrain. "I told you so," I said.
"Shushit," Howlaa said, preoccupied, thinking, doing what zie did best, assessing complex problems and trying to figure out the easiest way to kill the source of those problems, so I let zim be, and didn't taunt further.
Before we entered the Palace, Howlaa took on one of zir common working shapes, that of a human woman with a trim assassin-athlete's body, short dark hair, and deceptively innocent-looking brown eyes. The Regent – who had begun his life as human, though long contact with the royal orphans had wrought certain changes in him physiologically and otherwise – found this form attractive, as I had often sensed from fluctuations in his body heat. I'd made the mistake of sharing that information with Howlaa once, and now Howlaa wore this shape every time we met with the Regent, in hopes of discomforting him. I thought it was a wasted effort, as the Regent simply looked, and enjoyed, and was untroubled by Howlaa's unavailability.
We went up the cloudy white stone steps of the palace, which had been a great king's residence in some world far away, and was unlike any other architecture in Nexington-on-Axis. Some said the palace was alive, a growing thing, which seemed borne out by the ever-shifting arrangement of minarets and spires, the way the hallways meandered organically, and walls that appeared and disappeared. Others said it was not alive but simply magical. I had been reliably informed that the palace, unable to grow out because of the press of other government buildings on all sides, was growing down, adding a new sub-basement every five years or so. No one knew where the excavated dirt went, or where the building materials came from – no one, that is, except possibly the royal orphans, who were not likely to share the knowledge with anyone.
Two armored Nagalinda guards escorted us into the palace. That was a better reason for Howlaa to change shape – Nagalinda didn't like seeing skinshifters wearing their forms, because it meant that at some point the skinshifter had ingested some portion of a Nagalinda's body, and while their species enjoyed eating their enemies, they didn't tolerate being eaten by others.
We were escorted, not to the audience room, but into one of the sub-basements. We were working members of the government, and received no pomp or ceremony. As we walked, the Nagalinda guards muttered to one another, complaining of bad dreams that had kept them up all night. I hadn't even realized that Nagalinda could dream.
We reached the underground heart of the palace, where the Regent stood at a railing looking down into the great pit that held the royal snatch-engines. He was tall, dressed in simple linen, white-haired, old but not elderly. We joined him, waiting to be spoken to, and as always I was staggered at the scale of the machinery that brought new buildings and land and large flora and fauna to the Ax.
The snatch-engines were towering coils of copper and silver and gleaming adamant, baroque machines that wheezed and rumbled and squealed, with huge gears turning, stacks venting steam, and catwalks criss-crossing down to the unseen bottom of the engine-shaft. The royal orphans scuttled along the catwalks and on the machinery itself, their bodies feathered and insect-like, scaled and horned, multi-legged, some winged, all of them chittering and squeaking to one another, making subtle and gross refinements to the engines their long-dead parents, the Queen and Kings of Nexington-on-Axis, had built so many centuries ago. The orphans all had the inherent ability to steal things from passing worlds, but the engines augmented their powers by many orders of magnitude. The Queen and Kings had been able to communicate with other species, it was said, though they'd seldom bothered to do so; their orphans, each unlike its siblings except for the bizarre chimera-like make-up of their bodies, communicated with no one except the Regent.
"I understand you attempted to stop the killer on your way here," the Regent said, turning to face us. While his eyes were alert, his bearing was less upright than usual. He looked tired. "That was profoundly stupid."
"I've never encountered anything my Rendigo form couldn't kill," Howlaa said.
"I don't think that's a true statement anymore. You should have come to me first. I have something that might help you." The Regent stifled a yawn, then snapped his fingers. One of the royal orphans – a trundling thing with translucent skin through which deep blue organs could be seen – scrambled up to the railing, carrying a smoked-glass vial in one tiny hand. The Regent bowed formally, took the vial, and shooed the orphan away. "This is the blood of a questing beast. You may drink it."
"A questing beast!" I said. "How did you ever capture one?"
"We have our secrets," the Regent said.
Howlaa snorted. "Even questing beasts die sometime, Wisp. The snatch-engines probably grabbed the corpse of one." Howlaa was pretending to be unimpressed, but I saw zir hands shake as they took the vial.
Questing beasts were near-legendary apex predators, the only creatures able to hunt extra-dimensional creatures. They could pursue prey across dimensions, grasping their victims with tendrils of math and magic, and chasing them forever, even across branching worlds.
"Wherever the killer disappears to, you'll be able to follow him, once you shift into the skin of a questing beast," the Regent said.
"Yes, I've grasped the implications," Howlaa said.
"Then you've also grasped the possible avenues of escape this skin will provide you," the Regent said. "But if you think of leaving this world for frivolous reasons, or of not returning when your mission is complete, there will be… consequences."
"I know," Howlaa said, squeezing the vial. "That's what my little Wisp is for."
"I will be vigilant, Regent," I said.
"Oh, indeed, I'm sure," the Regent said. "Away, then. Go into the city. The killer seems to favor marketplaces and restaurants, places with a high concentration of victims – he has appeared in five such locations since yesterday. Take this." He passed Howlaa a misshapen sapphire, cloudy and cracked, dangling on a thin metal chain. "If any civil servant sees the killer, they will notify you through this, and, once you drink the blood of the questing beast, you will be able to 'port yourself to the location instantly."
Howlaa nodded. I would go wherever Howlaa did, for my particulate substance was inextricably entangled with zir gross anatomy. Howlaa uncapped the vial and drank the blood. Zir body, through the arcane processes of the skinshifter race, sequenced the genetic information of the questing beast, the macro-in-the-micro implicit in the blood, and incorporated the properties of the beast. Howlaa shivered, closed zir eyes, swallowed, and whined deep in zir throat. Then, with a little sigh of pleasure, Howlaa opened zir eyes and said, voice only slightly trembling, "Let's go, Wisp. On with the hunt."
The killer did not reappear that day. Howlaa and I went to the Western Outskirts, one of the few safe open spaces in the Ax, so zie could practice being the questing beast. It's dangerous to loiter in empty lots in the city proper, because the royal snatch-engines are configured to look for buildings that can fill available gaps. Thus, a space that is at one moment a weed-filled lot can in another instant be occupied by an apartment building full of bewildered humans, or a plaster-hive of angrily jostled buzz-men, or stranger things – and anyone who happened to be standing in the empty lot when the building appeared would be flattened. But the Western Outskirts are set aside for outdoor recreations, acre upon acre of playing fields, ramshackle wooden sky-diving platforms, lakes of various liquids for swimming or bathing or dueling, obstacle courses, consensual-cannibalism hunting grounds, and similar public spaces. Howlaa chose an empty field marked off with white lines for some unknown game, and transformed into the questing beast.
As one of the bodiless, dedicated to observation, it shames me to admit I could make little sense of Howlaa's new form; too much of zir body occupied non-visible dimensions. I saw limbs, golden fur, the impression of claws, something flickering that might have been a tail pendulum-swinging in and out of phase, but nothing my vision could settle on or hold. Looking at Howlaa in this form agitated me. If I had a stomach, I might have found it nauseating.
Howlaa flickered back to female human form and spent some minutes curled on the ground, moaning. "Coming back to this body is a bit of a shock," zie said after a while. "But I think I get the general idea. I can go anywhere just by finding the right trail of scent."
"But you won't go anywhere. You won't try to escape."
Howlaa threw a clod of dirt at me. "Correct, Wisp, I won't. But not because you'd try to stop me – "
"I would stop you."
"– only because I don't like being tossed aside in a fight. I'm going to follow this fat bastard, and I'm going to chew on him. You can't lose a questing beast once it gets its claws in you."
"So… now we wait."
"Now you wait. I'm going to drink. One of the advantages of wearing a human skin is that something as cheap and plentiful as alcohol provides such a fine buzz."
"Is this the best time to become intoxicated?" We bodiless have a reputation for being prudish and judgmental, which is not unwarranted. I can never get drunk, can never pleasantly impair my own faculties, and I am resentful of (and confused by) those bodied creatures that can.
"Which time? This time, when I might be killed by a fat man with a golden sword tomorrow? Yes, I'd say that's the best time for intoxication."
The next morning, we went to a den of vile iniquity near the palace. While Howlaa drank, I observed, and listened. I learned that a plague of nightmares was troubling the city center, and many of the bar's patrons had gone to stay with relatives in more far-flung districts in order to get some sleep. At least Howlaa and I wouldn't be called upon to deal with that crisis – bad dreams were rather too metaphysical a problem for Howlaa's methods to solve.
After a morning of Howlaa's hard drinking, the sing-charm the Regent had given us began to sound. Howlaa was underneath a table, talking to zimself, and seemed oblivious to the gem's keening, though everyone else in the bar heard, and went silent.
"Howlaa," I said, rumbling my voice in zir bones. Howlaa scowled, then skinshifted into a Nagalinda form, becoming instantly sober. Nagalinda process alcohol as easily as humans process water.
"Off we go," Howlaa said, and rushed into the street, transforming into the questing beast once zie was far enough away to avoid inadvertently snagging any of the bar patrons with extra-dimensional tendrils.
We traveled, the city folding and flickering around us, buildings bleeding light, darkness pressing in from odd angles until I was hopelessly disoriented. Seconds later we were in the middle of the Landlock Sea, on a floating wooden platform so large it barely seemed to move. The sea-market nearby was in chaos, fishermen and hunters of various species – Manipogos, Hydrans, Mhorags, others – running wildly for boats and bridges or diving into the water to get away from the fat man, who was now armed with a golden trident. He speared people, laughing, and Howlaa went for him and grappled, flashing tendrils wrapping around the fat man's bulk, barely-seen limbs knocking aside his weapon. The fat man stumbled, staggered, and fell to his knees. Howlaa's ferocious lashings didn't penetrate the man's impossibly durable flesh, but at least he'd been prevented from further acts of murder.
Then the man vanished, and Howlaa with him, and I was pulled along in their wake, on my way to wherever the fat man went when he wasn't killing residents of the Ax for sport.
For a moment, I looked down on the Ax, which spun as sedately as a gear in a great machine, and other universes flashed past, their edges blue- and red-shifting as they went by at tremendous speeds, briefly touching the Ax, sparks flying at the contact, the royal snatch-engines making their cross-dimensional depredations. Then we plummeted into an oncoming blur of blue-green-white, and after a period of blackness, I found myself in another world.
"Wisp," Howlaa hissed as I came back into focus. I had never been unconscious before – even my "sleep" is just a blessed respite from sensory input, not a loss of consciousness – and I did not like the sensation. Our passage from the Ax to this other plane had agitated my particles so severely that I'd lost cohesion, and, thus, awareness.
Now that my faculties were in control of me again, I saw a star-flecked night sky above, and Howlaa in human-female form, crouching by bushes beside a brick wall. I did not see the fat man anywhere.
"What – " I began.
"Quiet," Howlaa whispered, looking around nervously. I looked, but saw nothing to worry about. Grass, flowerbeds, and beside us a single-story brick house of a sort sometimes seen in the blander sections of the Middling Residential District. "The fat man got away," Howlaa said. "Only he actually melted away, or misted away, or… My tentacles didn't slip. He didn't slip through them. He just disappeared. Nothing can escape a questing beast."
"Perhaps the legends exaggerate the beast's powers," I said.
"Perhaps you'd best shushit and listen, Wisp. There's an open window just over there, and I can almost hear…"
I did not have to settle for almost. I floated above the bushes a few feet to the window, which opened onto a bedroom occupied by two humans, neither of them the fat man. The man and woman were both in bed, illuminated by a single bedside lamp. The man, who was pigeon-chested and had thinning hair, gestured excitedly, and the woman, an exhausted-looking blonde, lay propped on one elbow, looking at him through half-closed eyelids.
I listened, and because Howlaa is (I grudgingly admit) better at data analysis than I am, I let zir listen, too, by extending a portion of my attenuated substance down toward zim, a probing presence that Howlaa sensed and accepted. My vision blurred, and sounds took on strange echoes, but then I found my focus and stopped picking up residuals of Howlaa's sensory input – but zie would see and hear everything as clearly as I did.
"It's amazing," the man was saying. "They get more real all the time. I know you think it's stupid, but lucid dreaming is amazing, I'm so glad I took that seminar. It's like living a whole other life while I'm asleep!"
"What did you do this time?" She leaned back and closed her eyes.
The man hesitated. "I was in a sort of fish-market. There were fish-people, mermaids, selkies, things like that, and ordinary people, too, all buying and selling things. There was a lake, or an inland sea, and we were all on a wooden platform floating on the water…"
"You get seasick just stepping over a puddle," she said.
He looked at her, mouth a tense line, eyes narrowed, and I think if she had seen his expression she would have leapt from the bed in fear for her life. Unless long association with this man had dulled her awareness to the dark currents in him I saw so clearly.
"My dream body doesn't get sick," he said. "It's part of my positive visualization technique. My dream body is impervious to harm."
"And I bet you look like a movie star, too."
Another hesitation, this one accompanied by a troubled frown. "Something like that."
I wondered what his dream self really looked like – his father? An old enemy? A figure from a childhood nightmare that he could not escape, but was eventually able to embody?
He continued. "The only problem is, I can't seem to control where I go. The teacher at the seminar said that was the best part, being able to go to the mountains or the beach or outer space as easily as thinking it. But I just find myself in this city full of strange people and creatures, and…"
"Do you fuck any of those strange people?" she asked.
"No. It's not like that."
"What good's having control of your dreams if you can't wish yourself into a sex dream? Seems like that would be the best part."
"I want to go back to sleep," he said. "I want to try again."
"You don't have to ask my permission. I was sleeping fine until you sat up and started yelling. Doesn't sound like lucid dreaming is doing you much good – you're still having nightmares."
"The nightmares are different now," he said. "I'm in control." But she just turned over and pulled the sheet up to her neck.
"He's the fat man," Howlaa said, speaking silently into me, able to share thoughts as easily as we shared senses. "He goes to the Ax in his dreams, and he kills us for pleasure. That's why the questing beast couldn't hold the killer, why he melted away, because he has no substance beyond the borders of the Ax."
"Madness," I said, though Howlaa's intuitive leaps had proven right more often than my resultant skepticism.
"No, I think I've figured it. The Regent has consulted with many oneiromancers, lucid dreamers, and archetype-hunters over the years – I know, because I was sent to kidnap and press-gang many of them into civil service. I never knew why he wanted them before. I think that, with the Regent's help, the royal orphans have constructed a machine to steal dreams. A dream engine, that grabs mental figments and makes them real. But they locked on to this mad man's dream, and now his dream-self will keep coming, and killing, until this world spirals too far from the Ax for the engine to reach, which could take years."
"A dream engine," I repeated. "The activity of such a machine might explain the plague of nightmares in the city center."
"I doubt the Regent would worry overmuch about properly shielding any strange radiations," Howlaa said. "This is a new low for him. It's not enough that he grows rich through the orphan's thefts – now he wants to pillage our dreams, too."
The man lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Despite his words, he did not seem eager to sleep again. If Howlaa was right, the man had just been chased out of his fantasy of infinite strength by the monstrous questing-beast, which would be enough to give any dreamer pause.
"If you're right, we have to kill him," I said.
"Or not," Howlaa said.
Howlaa severed our connection, swirling my motes, and so it took me a moment to realize zie was transforming into the questing beast again – and I knew why. To jump away from this world, to another plane, adjacent to this one but not necessarily adjacent to the Ax. A few dimensional leaps, a little time, and Howlaa would be far beyond the Ax's influence, beyond the grasp of even the greatest snatch-engines.
But I still had a chance, this brief moment between transformations, to strike, and I did. I performed the one act that Howlaa could not resist, the power I was given permission to use only in circumstances as extreme as these.
I took possession of Howlaa's body.
Howlaa fought, and I batted zir efforts aside, then simply reveled in having a body, especially a body as sensitive as the questing beast's, seeing into higher dimensions, seeing colors that only exist between worlds. I wanted to fly through suns, roll across jagged stones, immerse myself in lava, feel feel feel this forever.
Howlaa was laughing at me, a tinny internal sound. "Shushit," I said, not speaking aloud. I didn't even know if this body had vocal cords. "You didn't escape. You failed. We're going to kill this man, and then return to the Ax."
"Go on then," Howlaa said. "Best of luck."
I attempted to take a step forward, and everything blurred. My head rang with odd chimes, and bizarre scents assailed me. I had never been in a body so sensitive to smell – each scent was like a line attached to me, tugging me in one direction or another. I paused, and the chaos of sensory input lessened. I took another step toward the dream-killer's window, and this time a whole new set of sensations struck me, making me fall to the ground.
"This form will not do," I said.
"Why not? Because you have no finesse, Wisp? Because you can control gross motor functions, but the intricacies are lost to you? In the questing beast's form, even the most trivial movement is intricate. Then why not take another form, a simpler one?"
I felt rage – glandular rage, pumping up from somewhere in this body, a biological response to a mental state. I never get used to that, the feedback loop of mind and body that the corporeal undergo constantly, and I tried to dismiss its effects. I couldn't shift into another form. That was far too intricate a task for my understanding of how to control a body. If Howlaa had been in a human form, I could have broken into the man's house, stabbed him with a knife, and walked out again – such simple physical manipulation was within my powers. But as the questing beast…
"We have reached an impasse," I said.
"And what do you propose?"
"Kill this man," I said. "And I will not report your attempt to escape."
Howlaa laughed. "Oh, please, don't report me. What will they do? Sentence me to another lifetime of servitude?"
"Just kill him! That's why we came."
"I came to kill an invulnerable fat man with the golden weapons, Wisp, not a mentally disturbed human in his bed."
"They are the same!"
"They are not the same. This man is mad, but he is not the killer – he simply dreams of killing."
"But… his dreams are evil…"
"You would hold us responsible for our dreams now? If so, I am a regicide a thousand times over, for in my dreams, I rip the Regent and his orphans to wet bits every night. The Regent is the guilty party in this – he has made a machine that steals dreams, and he brought the killer to our city."
"What do you recommend?"
"Fixing this problem at the source. Which is what I was trying to do when you so rudely possessed me."
"You were trying to escape." I said.
"No, Wisp, I was trying to return to Nexington-on-Axis. Sorry I didn't consult you – my understanding was that you're an observer, here to lend me support."
"I am here to make sure you serve your duty," I replied, wondering if zie was telling the truth.
"I will. But my duty is not to the Regent. I serve the welfare of Nexington-on-Axis. Come, Wisp, and I'll show you I do have a sense of responsibility. Such a strong one, in fact, that I won't kill an innocent madman for the Regent's crimes."
I gave up control of Howlaa's body, and with more shifting, we returned to the Ax.
We appeared in the Regent's private chambers, which should have been impossible, as there were safeguards against teleportation there. The Regent sat in a wingback chair, holding a ledger in his lap, and he raised his eyebrows when we appeared.
Howlaa shifted to female human form, only swaying a bit on zir feet in the aftermath of being the beast. "Huh," zie said. "I wondered if that would work. It's said nothing can stop a questing beast from coming and going as it pleases."
"Mmm," the Regent said. "I trust you solved our problem, and disposed of the fat man? I'll see you get something extra in your next pay allotment. Now, go away. I'm busy." He looked back down at his ledger.
Howlaa cleared zir throat. "Regent. I require your assistance in the fulfillment of my duties."
The Regent looked up. "You didn't kill the fat man?"
"My investigation is ongoing. I need to see the new snatch-engine, the one that steals dreams, and I may have some questions regarding its operation."
The Regent set his ledger aside and stared at Howlaa for a long moment. "Well," he said. "You are not famed for your powers of deduction, Howlaa Moor, but for your powers of destruction. I had not expected you to make inquiries, and I did not ask you to. You are dismissed from this case. I will assign someone else to deal with the fat man."
"Respectfully, sir, you may not interfere with any legitimate inquiries I care to make in an ongoing investigation. My contract prohibits such interference. Again, please have me escorted to the new snatch-engine, and provide someone knowledgeable to answer any questions I might have. Or do you believe this line of inquiry is without cause? If so, I would be happy to bring my evidence before the magisters." Howlaa smiled.
I was in awe at zir audacity. To confront the Regent this way! And zie had no evidence, just intuition and inference. If the Regent called the bluff… But no. He didn't want any evidence Howlaa might possess brought before the magisters and, indirectly, the citizens of the Ax.
"I am the Regent, Moor. You take orders from me."
"Indeed. But my contract states that I serve the city, and not the ruler. You may not lawfully inhibit me. Break my contract, if you like, and I'll not trouble you again. Otherwise, you are obliged to cooperate."
"I could have you executed for treason."
Howlaa bowed. "You are welcome to try, sir." Skinshifters could be executed, but it was difficult, since a long-lived member of the species would have forms resistant to most obvious methods of execution. "But if you choose not to execute me or break my contract, then I must ask, for the third time, that you take me to the dream engine and provide –"
"Yes," the Regent snapped. "Fine."
I was astonished. Howlaa's bluff had succeeded. Zie was too valuable for the Regent to dismiss from duty or kill, and his own laws prevented any other action.
The Regent couldn't simply disregard these laws, for they were the source of his power. Without his laws, there would be no city of Nexington-on-Axis, just a giant junkheap full of things snatched at random by the orphans, indiscriminate slaves to their magpie impulses. "But I am about to show you a state secret."
"That's fine," Howlaa said. "My contract gives me any necessary clearances to fulfill my duties –"
"I know what your contract says, Moor. I wrote it myself, so you would be forced to serve the city in perpetuity, even in the event of my death. Now shut up about it. I'm taking you where you want to go. If you speak a word about this device to anyone, you will be executed for treason. We have methods designed for your kind. There's a special chamber in one of the basements for disposing of skinshifters."
"I serve the state," Howlaa said. "I will not betray it."
I wondered what kind of execution chamber the Regent had that could hold a questing beast, since the safeguards on his private chambers had been insufficient to keep the beast out. I didn't think the Regent realized what kind of power he was giving Howlaa by letting zim drink the questing beast's blood.
We set off down the shifting opalescent corridors of the palace, and the walls groaned around us as they moved.
"You think the killer is a dream-being, snatched here by the experimental engine," the Regent said as we walked.
"I'll submit my report when my investigation is complete," Howlaa said. "Along with my recommendations for how to rectify the problem."
The Regent scowled, but kept walking. Finally we reached a door of black iron. The stone around it was discolored and cracked – the substance of the palace apparently had an allergy to iron, but the heavy metal had certain shielding properties that made its use necessary on occasion. The Regent knocked, a complex rhythm, his unbreakable adamant signet ring clanging against the metal with each rap.
The door swung open silently, and the Regent ushered us into the dimly-lit place beyond.
"This is the dream engine," the Regent said. "Not what you expected, I wager."
"No," Howlaa murmured. "It's not."
Unlike the snatch-engines, there were no gears here, no oiled pistons, no sparking ladders of electricity, no bell-shaped domes of glass, no miles of copper pipes for coolant. There was only a throbbing organic mass in a web of wires, a red-and-green slick thing with no visible eyes or limbs, though it did have vestigial wings, prismatic like a dragonfly's, which drooped to the floor. A royal orphan, pinned in a web of wires.
Howlaa crossed zir arms. "So it's psychic, then."
The Regent smiled. "In a way. It sees dreams. More importantly, it covets dreams. And what the royal orphans covet, they get. Much of the process of governing Nexington-on-Axis is making sure the orphans want things the city needs. They don't care what happens to the things they snatch. They simply live for the process of snatching. This one is no different, except for the sorts of thing it snatches."
"You haven't been successful making this one want things the city needs, since it pulled a madman's murderous dream to this world."
"You're certain of that?" the Regent said.
Howlaa just nodded, and the Regent sighed. "I'll have to spend some time tuning the process. It's still experimental. I trust you found and killed the dreamer, to prevent another incident?"
"I did not," Howlaa said. "If I had known for certain about the existence of this dream engine, I would have tried, but I only had suspicions. When I grabbed the fat man, I was carried to another world, surrounded by houses filled with sleeping humans, with no sign of the fat man anywhere. That's when I began to suspect that I'd grabbed a dream-figment – I remembered your studies with various experts on dreaming, Platonic ideals, the collective unconscious, things of that nature."
"You have quite a memory," the Regent said.
"I drank the blood of an elephant once," Howlaa said, and I almost laughed. "Since I wasn't sure the killer was a dream-thing, I came back here to inquire further."
"We should talk in the hall," the Regent said abruptly. "Vibrations disturb the engine." Indeed, the vestigial wings were flickering, weakly, and we left the room. Once in the hall, the Regent said "How do you intend to proceed?"
"When the killer appears again, I'll grab him, and when he sweeps me back to the human world with him again… well, I think it's safe to assume that the dangerous dreamer will be somewhere in the general vicinity of the place where I land. I'll simply kill everyone within a mile or so. It will take time, but I have some forms that are suited to the task."
I was stunned. I knew Howlaa was lying. We knew very well who the dreamer was, and Howlaa had shown no inclination to kill him. So what was zie planning?
"Very good," the Regent said. " But if you mention a word about the contents of that room, I'll have you flayed into your component atoms. Understood?"
"The authorities appreciate your cooperation," Howlaa said. The Regent sniffed and walked away.
"Come, Wisp. Back to our eternal vigilance."
"Back to the bar, you mean."
"Just so." Howlaa grimaced, touching zir stomach. "Shit. I've got a pain in my gut."
"Are you all right?"
"Probably something I ate in another form, that doesn't agree with this one. I'll be all right." Howlaa shivered, stretched, and became the questing beast. We traveled.
* * *
I tried to get some sense out of Howlaa at the bar, before zie drank too many red bulldozers, primal screams, and gravity wells to maintain a coherent conversation. I slipped a tendril into zir mind and said "What is your plan?"
"Assume what I told the Regent is true," Howlaa said, smiling at the human bartender, who looked appreciatively at Howlaa's human breasts as she mixed drinks. "If things work out, it won't matter, but if things go badly, you'll need all the plausible deniability you can get. No reason for you to go down with me if I fail. This way you can honestly claim ignorance of my plans."
"You want to protect me from getting in trouble with the Regent?" I said, almost touched.
Zie laughed aloud and gulped a fizzing reddish concoction. "No, Wisp. But on the off chance that they imprison me instead of putting me to death, I don't want to be stuck in a cell with you forever."
After that, zie wouldn't talk to me at all, but had fun as only Howlaa on the eve of potential death can.
Zie vomited more often than usual, though.
A day passed, and Howlaa was sober and bored at home, playing five-deck solitaire while I made desultory suggestions, before the fat man reappeared. The singing gem keened at mid-day. Howlaa cocked zir head, taking information from the gem.
Zie became the questing beast, and we were away.
This time we landed in the city center. The fat man sat on the obsidian steps of the Courthouse of Lesser Infractions, face turned up to the sun, smiling up at the light. He held a golden scythe across his knees, and blood and bodies lay strewn all over the steps around him, many wearing the star-patterned robes of magisters.
Howlaa did not hesitate, but traveled again, this time appearing directly in front of the fat man and lashing out with barely-visible hooked appendages to grasp the killer. Then Howlaa traveled again. We reappeared in the racing precinct, startling the spectators and scattering the thoroughbred chimeras. The fat man struggled in the hoof-churned mud, his weapon gone.
I had barely overcome my disorientation before Howlaa traveled again. I knew it was Howlaa controlling the movement, for the sensation was quite different from the swirling transcendence that came when the fat man dragged us to that other world. This time we appeared in another populated area, the vaulted gray halls of the Chapel of Blessed Increase in the monastic quarter. We flickered again, Howlaa and the fat man still locked in struggle, and flashed briefly through another dozen places around the city, all filled with startled citizens – in the adder's pit, the ladder to the stars, the moss forest, the monster farm, the glass park, the burning island. We even passed through the Regent's inner chamber, briefly, though he was not there, and through other rooms in the palace, courtrooms, dungeons, and chambers of government. There was a fair amount of incidental damage in many of these instances, as the fat man rolled around, kicked, and thrashed.
Then we appeared in the dream engine's chamber, and everything in my full-circle visual field wobbled and ran, either as an aftereffect of all that spatial violation, or because bringing a dream into such proximity with the dream engine set up unstable resonances.
Howlaa and the fat man thrashed right into the pulsing royal orphan in its tangle of wires. The orphan's wings fluttered as it broke free from the mountings, and the ovoid body fell to the floor with a sick, liquid sound, like a piece of rotten fruit dropping onto pavement. The fat man broke free of Howlaa – though that wasn't possible, so Howlaa must have let him go. He attacked Howlaa, who flickered and reappeared on the far side of the weakly pulsing royal orphan. The fat man roared and strode forward, a new weapon suddenly in his hand, a six-foot polearm covered in barbs and hooks. He tread on the royal orphan, which popped and deflated, a wet, ripe odor filling the room. The fat man swung at the unmoving Howlaa, but the weapon disappeared in mid-arc. The fat man stumbled, falling to one knee, then moaned and came apart. It was like seeing a shadow-sculpture dissolve at the wave of an artist's hand, his substance darkening, becoming transparent, and finally melting away.
Howlaa became human, fell to zir knees, and shivered. "Feel sick," zie said, grimacing.
I was terrified. The Regent might kill us for this. We'd stopped the fat man, yes, but at the cost of a royal orphan's life. "We have to go, Howlaa," I said. "Become the questing beast. I won't try to stop you – let's flee across the worlds. We have to get away."
But Howlaa did not hear, for zie was vomiting now, violently, zir whole body heaving, red and milky white and translucent syrupy stuff coming from zir mouth, mingling with the ichor from the dead orphan on the floor.
The door opened. The Regent and two Nagalinda guards entered. "No!" the Regent cried. "No, no, no!" The guards seized Howlaa, who was still vomiting, and dragged zim away. I floated along inexorably behind. The Regent stayed, kneeling by the dead orphan, gently touching its unmoving rainbow wings.
"Feeling better, traitor?," the Regent said. Howlaa sat, pale and still unwell, on a hard wooden bench before the Regent's desk.
"A bit," Howlaa said.
The Regent smiled. "You didn't think I'd let you be the questing beast forever, did you? I couldn't risk your escape. Wisp is one line of defense against that, but I felt another was needed, so I laced the blood with poison and bound their substances together. When the poison activated, your body expelled it, along with all the questing beast's genetic material. You've lost the power to take that form."
"I've never vomited up an entire shape before," Howlaa said. "It was an unpleasant experience."
"The first of many, for a traitor like you."
"Regent," I said. "As Howlaa's witness, I must inform you that you are incorrect. Howlaa did not mean to harm the orphan. The fat man appeared and disappeared, and Howlaa and I were simply carried along with him. Surely there are others who can attest to that, testify that we appeared all over the city, fighting? Howlaa held on, hoping the fat man would fade and we would be taken to the world of the dreamer, but before that could happen… well. The dream engine was damaged."
"The orphan was killed," the Regent said. "You expect me to believe that, by coincidence, the last place Howlaa and the killer appeared was in that room?"
"We could hardly appear anywhere after that, Regent, since the dream engine was destroyed, dissolving the fat man in the process." I spoke respectfully. "Had that not happened, I cannot tell you where the fat man might have traveled next."
"He was a lucid dreamer," Howlaa said. "He'd learned to move around at will. He was trying to shake me off, bouncing all over the city."
The Regent stared at Howlaa. "That orphan was the result of decades of research, cloning, cross-breeding – the pinnacle of the bloodline. With a bit of practice, it would have been the most powerful of the orphans, and this city would have flourished as never before. We would have entered an age of dreams."
"It is a great loss, Regent," Howlaa said. "And we certainly deserve no honor or glory for our work – I failed to kill the dreamer. He killed himself. But I did not kill the orphan, either. The fat man tread upon it."
"Wisp," the Regent said. "You affirm, on your honor as a witness, that this is true?"
My honor as a witness. My honor demanded that I respect Howlaa's elegant solution, which had saved the city further murder and also destroyed the Regent's wicked dream engine. I think the Regent misunderstood the oath he requested. "Yes," I said.
"Get out of here, both of you," he said. "There will be no bonus pay for this farce. No pay at all, in fact, until I decide to reinstate you to active duty."
"As you say, Regent," Howlaa and I said together, and took our leave.
"You lied for me, Wisp," Howlaa said that night, reclining on a heap of soft furs and coarse fabrics.
"I provided an interpretation that fit the objectively available facts," I said.
"You knew I was the one dragging the killer around the city, not vice-versa."
"So it seemed to me subjectively," I said. "But if the Regent chose to access my memory and see things as I had seen them, there would be no such subjectivity, so it hardly seemed relevant to the discussion."
"I owe you one, Wisp," Howlaa said.
"I did what I thought best. We are partners."
"No, you misunderstand. I owe you one, and I want you to take it, right now." Howlaa held out zir hand.
After a moment, I understood. I drifted down to Howlaa's body, and into it, taking over zir body. Howlaa did not resist, and the sensation was utterly different from the other times I had taken possession, when most of my attention went to fighting for control. I sank back in the furs and fabrics, shivering in ecstasy at the sensations on zir – on my – skin.
"The body is yours for the night," Howlaa said in my – our – mind. "Do with it what you will."
"Thank you."
"You had the right of it," Howlaa said. "We are partners. Finally, and for the first time, partners."
I buried myself in furs, and reveled in the tactile experience until the exquisite, never-before-experienced sensation of drowsiness overtook me. I fell asleep in that body, and in sleep I dreamed my own dreams, the first dreams of my life. They were beautiful, and lush, and could not be stolen.


text: In this poignant companion to A Dog's Life (2005), Martin pursues her story of two homeless puppies from male puppy Bone's perspective, adding canine-related stories from two boys, Charlie and Henry. When stray siblings Bone and Squirrel are separated, Bone is rescued by a young couple, becomes an elderly man's companion and eventually searches for a home. After Charlie's older brother RJ falls from a tree and dies, his mom suffers a breakdown and his dad withdraws, leaving Charlie to grieve with RJ's dog Sunny until another accident strikes. Eleven-year-old Henry's parents won't let him have a dog. When his best pal moves away, Henry renews his plea, but to no avail. Bone autobiographically tells his own touching tale, while Martin compassionately relates Charlie and Henry's stories in the third person. She artfully alternates and gradually weaves together threads from the canine and human tales until the three stories converge in time and space into a completely heartwarming and satisfying finale. Essential fare for fans of A Dog's Life or the perfectly crafted canine tale. (Fiction. 9-12)


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Scientists have detected a number of drugs which could help protect against Alzheimer's disease, acting like statins for the brain.
In experiments on worms, University of Cambridge researchers identified drugs which prevented the very first step towards brain cell death.
They now want to match up drugs with specific stages of the disease.
Experts said it was important to find out if these drugs could work safely in humans.


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It has been a long time coming, but the deed is done. I told my husband to just look at it like ripping off a band-aid. He still wants to throw up a little in his mouth every time he sees it, but I am not going to pretend I feel anything but that a destiny in my life has been fulfilled.
We got a minivan.
For some reason, society likes to brand this parental milestone as the epitome of being un-hip, or that it is the final nail in the coffin containing a person's sense of individual self. But I think that is just plain ridiculous. What WOULD be ridiculous is trying to deny the fact that I AM a parent who needs to take my children into consideration with every single decision I make, including what car I drive. Not that I am saying a minivan is necessarily always the best choice, but it was for our family. I like having the extra room to cart around toys, groceries, Girl Scout supplies, projects, and every other random thing that might need to be transported. I like that we will be more comfortable on road trips, and the kids can sit in separate rows if they start getting on each other's nerves. I like that I now have enough seating to carpool or let my kids spontaneously bring a friend home to play after school without it involving a scheduling chart to see who can drop off and pick up when. And I like that I now drive a big, sturdy car that gives me a snowball's chance in hell should I mingle steel with some birdbrain who is texting behind the wheel of an SUV.
I am also not the kind of person who determines how cool she is by the kind of car she drives. But I am the kind of person who has probably never really been cool anyway. So with that said, I will say loud and proud: I LOVE MY MINIVAN!
In fact, I love my minivan so much that a regular old blog post didn't seem enough to announce its advent into my life. As I searched for inspiration, the same line kept popping into my head…I like minivans and I can not lie…
So without further ado, I give you the very first "Are You Finished Yet?" Music Video! (Want to see more of my videos? Check them out HERE.)
*the picture of the river barge in the video was from http://www.boldts.net/album/D-RiverBarge.shtml
Customers who like this blog also follow me on Facebook, Twitter (@RYouFinishedYet), and Pinterest.


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A passion for good causes.
Through our pro bono video work we love to support creative projects that are close to our heart, raise awareness for important issues and promote meaningful events.
Enjoy this selection of our latest pro bono projects:
Have you got a Good Cause?
We're always happy to receive to pro bono requests. Though we cannot support every good cause out there, we would love to here from you to see what we can do to help!


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Spoilers for last night's Glee below:
I will say this for the way Glee handled Karofsky's suicide attempt in "On My Way": the beginning of the episode was a very effective 15 minutes or so of television. The problem: it was very effective television—for about 15 minutes or so.
I'm willing to accept that, in a story about bullying and depression involving a supporting character on the show, there will be a certain amount of dramatic compression. So, yes, maybe it was a very quick process by which Karofsky came back to the show's attention, was inadvertently outed before his classmates, and tried to hang himself in his bedroom. Regardless, the way the episode showed him readying himself to die and intercut the scenes of his torment with the McKinley High characters wondering if they could have done more to stop it was arresting and–in a heightened, TV sense–rang true.
But it's ironic that we first met Karofsky in an arc last season abut his bullying of Kurt, a storyline that was notable for not trying to dispense with a big issue in one Very Special Episode, but instead let the story build and dealt with its consequences at length. "On My Way," on the other hand, gave us his suicide attempt, his reconciliation with Kurt and then–moved right on to Regionals, Sue's pregnancy storyline, Rachel and Finn's wedding and Quinn's don't-text-and-drive cliffhanger.
It all made for a Glee episode that was whiplash-ier than usual, and even further constricted by needing to fit in an entire Regionals competition worth of performances. I imagine Glee's fans would never let the show get away with it, but I wonder if it would be better if the show flipped our expectations and let the entire Regionals competition happen entirely or mostly offstage. As it was, the showdown felt oddly out of place and—the nods to Karofsky notwithstanding—unconnected with the episode we began watching.
I used the term "Very Special Episode," above, the way we usually do nowadays, as a pejorative, something to be avoided. But the way this episode played out makes me wonder whether Very Special Episodes don't get a bad rap; that is, maybe if a significant character begins the episode by trying to take his own life, the rest of the episode should be very special, or at least get across the sense that it's not so easy to pick up and get on with life and plot complications as usual. (The episode did at least use Sue well in connection with the story, having her show some real empathy and sense of responsibility as an educator—even if it did write off her behavior to hormones, I assume to make it easier for her to become Funny Mean Sue at the next convenient opportunity.)
As it was, the episode seemed all too easily able to flitter on to the next thing—or things, setting up several cliffhangers for the midseason break. (Does Quinn survive? Do Finn and Rachel marry? And—to the extent that you care—who's the father of Sue's baby?) But I have a hard time believing that Karofsky—or all the real-life Karofskys out there in our high schools—can move on so quickly.


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The price action confirmed the late November scenario. The next target stands now at $16.80, followed by $22.00 on the mid term.
Take a look at the left chart (nov.26 analysis: http://markettechnicalview.blogspot.ro/2012/11/watch-this-stock-hewlett-packard.html) and see how the price followed my scenario: sharp comeback towards the 75 days average (green line in the $15.00 area) followed by a few weeks of indecision and then an obious bull domination that lead to the break above $15.00 level which is now a strong support.
IMPORTANT: Earnings announcement: 21 Feb. 2013!!!


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Easter is right around the corner (March 31st to be exact). If your child is like mine, they're quite artsy. My daughter loves to draw, paint, color and make crafts. I love doing holiday crafts with her, and Easter is no exception. Below is a round-up of 20 Easter crafts that both young and older children can do!
1. DIY Paper Eggs
2. Golden Bunny Egg
3. Marbleized Easter Eggs
4. Handy Easter Craft
5. Altered Plastic Eggs
6. Crepe Paper Stained Easter Eggs
7. Dyed and Speckled Easter Eggs
8. White on White Easter Eggs
9. Mardi Gras Bead Easter Eggs
10. Toilet Paper Roll Easter Bunny
11. Cutie Cottontails Garland
12. Duck Tape Easter Basket
13. Yarn Easter Chick
14. Some Bunny Loves You Door Hanger
15. Colorful Chicks Place Holders
16. Chick Beanbags
17. Coffee Filter Easter Baskets
18. Peter Cottontail Silhouette
19. Craft Box Bunny Decor
20. Golden Marbled Easter Eggs


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The Conference is organised within a Research Scheme Special needs of Children in the Context of the Framework of Reference for Elementary Education.
|22. 2. 2009
|Filling in the electronic application and abstract
|8. 3. 2009
|Payment of the conference fee by a bank transfer
|22. 3. 2009
|Submitting the complete contribution into the electronic application
The organised conference is a part of a research scheme Special needs of Children in the Context of the Framework of Reference for Elementary Education. Content wise it focuses on using drama education in education and teaching children with special educational needs.
Aims and contents focus of the conference:
The aim of this conference is to organise an active meeting of specialists who use drama in education in their work but also to reinforce public awareness regarding the research in the field of drama in education; to put through the practical field with the methodology approaches, enable mutual exchange of experience and information among the participants of the conference, presentations of research projects in the field, their mutual interconnecting as well as outlining further research possibilities; strengthening the position of drama in education in the framework of reference for elementary education.
The Conference is accompanied with extra events:
On 22 April 2009 there will be a social evening with exhibitions by student theatres; On 23 April 2009 there will be 4 workshops with foreign and Czech teachers, who are involved in educating children with special needs via method of drama in education.
Conference languages: English, Czech
On this website you can register and find further information about the conference.


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Are you personally prepared to vote on Tuesday, November 4, 2014?
Chickens Coming Home To Roost For Libs!
Are you registered? Do you have your sample ballot? Do you plan to go to the Polls to vote? Do you need an absentee ballot? Have you decided on the candidates that you will vote to elect? Will your candidates do the best for our country or are you voting an old party line that your parents, your race, your gender, or your ethnic background friends have voted for years? As you vote think about the future of this country and what you want to leave as a future for your children and your grandchildren. America is the only place in the world that has provided true freedom and independence and we have allowed our politicians to begin to destroy those. We must stop this insanity!
If you aren't prepared then you now have (4) days to get ready! I filled out my Absentee Ballot today and personally delivered it to my voting precinct to assure that my vote will be counted properly, I did not want any chance of it getting lost in the mails or stopped by any kind of voting fraud. Your voting right is powerful!
We have (12) days during which American Patriots can begin voting now and begin to restore our country to sanity again! Will you please do your part and fulfill your responsibility to make this country a much better place and take it away from those who are attempting to destroy our Freedoms, ignore our Constitution and Bill of Rights…and overall to place this country under full socialist and fascist control! Many Americans do not realize what a critical stage this country is now in and there are many ulterior forces around the world that want to destroy us…not just one but many forces. To combat this we need highly qualified leaders…and there are many running…and there are many who don't want to tell you the truth about what their political goals are for this country. Be very careful and perform your due diligence on your candidates! Let's together make America stronger!
GOP favor? Obama says embattled Dems 'strong allies' who 'supported my agenda'
President Obama won't let embattled Senate Democrats run away from him that easily.
The president, during a radio interview on Monday, claimed Democratic candidates who are avoiding him on the campaign trail nevertheless are "strong allies" who have "supported my agenda in Congress."
The comments once again provide GOP ad-makers with fodder to tie Democrats to the unpopular president. This comes after Obama declared several weeks ago "every single one" of his policies is on this year's ballot. And like last time, Republicans quickly parroted the president's latest remarks. The candidates may be running away from Obama as the public is…he is chasing the candidates with his agenda and hoping for some turnout to save his embarrassment.
Analysis of this message (including playing on the Ferguson MO emotions) reveals that this appears to be a strategic desperation move by the Democrats to attempt to get the minorities to turn out to vote…an approach being used in Georgia today by the Democrats to stir up their base to help the Democratic candidates. The Federal Investigation this week revealed there would probably be no civil rights case as it appeared that the police officer was attacked inside of his police car. Sharpton is attempting to incite the community by trying this case without benefit of the grand jury investigation results.
VALUABLE INFORMATION- "THE GREAT GLOBAL DECEPTION" known as the "ONE WORLD ORDER"
There is much going on around the world that we do not understand. Our consensus is that there are multiple "wealth and political heads of this power play" that are competing for domination and control of what we call "The Great Global Deception" and what is referred to in the powerful elite society as a "New World Order".
Our recommendation today is that you read another excellent book by Simona Pipko, noted Author of many books and publications.


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Solaris 8 problems
Have you heard about FC problems in Solaris 8 on SunBlade series? I tried to use both Qlogic amd Emulex FC cards with the latest drivers for Solaris 8, both with negative results. My setup is: SunBlade 100 with a clean installation of Solaris 8; Qla2200 card with rev.3.07 driver for Sun SPARC; P-2-P connection to a FC-DA disk. I panic during device configuration (first time during drvconfig and then upon restart). Thank you for any pointers.
I have not heard of any problems with the SunBlade itself. This is a question which most likely should be posed to the storage vendor you are using. I have many customers on Solaris 8 with zero problems and that goes for the Qlogic adapters as well.
Check the Qlogic Web site at: http://www.qlogic.com/bbs-html/csg_web/adapter_pages/sw_page.html to make sure you are using the correct driver for the storage vendor you are using. EMC, HP, IBM require specific driver versions for the HBA to operate correctly with their storage.
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A snow squall over eastern Dakota County and northwest Pierce County could dump one to two inches of snow Friday morning, Nov. 9, 2018, according to the National Weather Service in the Twin Cities and Chanhassen.
The special weather statement issued 8:25 a.m. Friday warns of deteriorating travel conditions for Red Wing, River Falls, Hastings, Prescott, Ellsworth, Goodhue, Durand, Pepin, Welch, Plum City and Bay City.
There was 1.5 inches of snow reported to the weather service at 5:33 a.m. Friday at U.S. Lock & Dam No. 3 in Red Wing.
Snow backed up morning commutes around the region Friday and led to multiple crashes.