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I spent February 19, 2003, the way Id spent the three previous days: monitoring Jesica Santillans condition via the Web. It was the lead story on CompuServe, and I read only, Bleeding and swelling on the brain, before I pressed my palms to my eyes.
Wha-at? my boyfriend asked. His patience regarding Jesica was wearing thin; even my daughter had given me a jaundiced look the day before in the car when I said, Maybe Jesica wants me to write about her. She was 13, and not unsentimental, but would not be complicit in the fantasy her mother was spinning.
Id started my vigil the day The New York Times ran an article about 17-year-old Jesica that included a photo of the comatose girl: dark-haired, her shoulders bare above the hospital bed sheet, she looked exactly like my daughter. When the story moved to the front page, I went with it. I kept tabs on Jesica via the Web, by the hour, then the minute. Work, books, eating, everything fell away, seemed frivolous compared to the devastation taking place inside this girl.
I knew what everyone else glued to the story knew: That on February 7, Jesica had undergone a heart-lung transplant of a mismatched blood type by surgeons at Duke University Hospital. That her parents, illegal Mexican immigrants who spoke no English, had smuggled her into the country three years earlier in order to seek treatment for her congenital heart abnormality; that a North Carolina homebuilder named Mack Mahoney the man we saw on TV, begging for a new set of organs for Jesica had two years earlier established Jesicas Hope Chest (JHC), a foundation to help pay for the girls life-saving operation, which, due to an oversight, was likely going to kill her.
I was unable to accept the fatal error. I bucked every time I thought about the moment when the incompatible organs were placed inside Jesica. This was followed closely by empathy for what I felt sure her family, and in particular her 37-year-old mother, Magdalena, must be going through, after having waited three years for this and then having to watch helplessly as what they waited for destroyed Jesica. And then, after seizures and bleeding and lying in a coma for two weeks, the doctors tried another transplant, and succeeded in killing Jesicas brain. To me, it seemed, they killed the child twice. The betrayal was impossible for me to keep down.
Why we as readers, as a nation, become involved in one story over another is fueled by primal concerns and fanned by the media. But what keeps us involved? While I am sure many found Jesicas story wrenching, they turned the page, perhaps on February 20, the day Jesica received her second transplant and also the night of a devastating nightclub fire that would eventually claim 100 lives.
I scanned the photos from West Warwick, Rhode Island, the stunned face of Great White lead singer Jack Russell, the charred foundation of the Station, but the images did not stick. This tragedy was happening to other people; there was nothing I could do. I did not feel this way about Jesica. While the origin of my obsession may have been a thing as random as appearance the tawny skin and almond eyes and babyish nose were the same as my daughters nurturing the fixation gave birth to something less simple, a launching pad I used to catapult myself into Jesicas posthumous life.
My flying to North Carolina, to stay with Mack Mahoney, to meet Jesicas family, to discuss her case with lawyers may have happened because Im a writer who tends toward immersion journalism. It may have been driven by career ambitions; I boarded the plane with a verbal agreement to write a book about Jesica. It may have been that my obsession simply swept me overboard. My mother said Jesicas tragedy sucked me in because she had a face, and we know that a news story with a face, whether its Willie Hortons or Laci Petersons, incites emotional involvement.
These reasons were true, but ultimately ancillary: I flew to North Carolina because my fixation caused a puncture wound I could not stem alone, there was too much empathy flowing, it needed someplace to go. I no longer felt like a compassionate stranger in Jesicas tragedy, but a participant. I wanted to know more about her, to meet her mother, to be around others who were grieving for Jesica.
On February 21, I read, Irreversible brain damage, and that Magdalena had said before the second operation that Jesica squeezed her hand and wiggled her toes on command. These, I realized, would be the last sentient communications shed have with her daughter. Later, when a CNN special report announced Jesica was brain dead, I did not see Magdalena in the crowd, but imagined her wanting to claw her way into the past, to reclaim her child, to say, leave her with me, I will take her from here.
The next morning I got on a train, and as it left Union Station I saw the sun reflect on the Los Angeles River, making it a blinding silver, and I thought, thank you, Jesica, you have helped me see beauty. I told her she was a very brave girl, and asked her not to be angry with her mother. Not that I thought she would be, but I wondered, as she slipped away, if she questioned whether her mother had protected her enough.
I did what I went to San Diego to do, interview the astronaut Sally Ride. We stood in the Aerospace Museum before a replica of the Apollo spacecraft and talked about the Challenger explosion and how Ride is a hero to young girls. I was so disconnected, she might as well have talked to a leg of lamb. When I got home, my boyfriend had laid the table with wine, bread and cheese, and told me not to check the Web for Jesica, but I had to. I read shed been taken off life support, and died. I sat at the table, drank the wine, ate the cheese, and after my boyfriend went to sleep, locked myself in the bathroom and knelt on the bathmat and shrieked through my teeth.
I kept a vigil at the Internet. I sent homemade cookies to Jesicas Hope Chest. I sent a check. Four days after Jesica died, I phoned JHC. Mack Mahoney answered, which I considered an incredible stroke of good fortune. I asked if there was anything I could do besides send money and pray; he said, just keep that up, and hung up. I sat at my desk and stared at my hands. I knew I had to call back.
Mr. Mahoney, my name is Nancy Rommelmann, and I want to know if you need a writer. I had no idea what I could do for him, but would have folded laundry if it would have helped. Maam, he said, I got 400 writers here and I want to put them all in a hole.
I told him I might be able to write press releases, anything; he told me to send something to the Hope Chest and hed get it. I immediately composed a letter, saying, have pen, will travel, and that my father had a home nearby where I could stay. That night, my daughter showed me a poem shed written for Jesica. I sent it with my letter.
The next day I was at the Los Angeles Zoo, where I worked at the time one day a week writing grant proposals. During my lunch break, I asked Jesica what animals shed like to see. She said, Monkeys! I wondered if this were true, if she did like monkeys. I climbed to the top of the zoo to see the baby chimpanzees. Then I told her I would take her to see my favorite animals. I got lost trying to find the lemur enclosure, walking in the rain, eating an egg salad sandwich, and crying.
I was shelling peas a few nights later when the phone rang. Nancy, this is Nita Mahoney [Macks wife], and I want to let you know your daughters poem was read at Jessies interment.
Hearing her voice felt entirely normal, as though I were expecting her call. I mentioned Id sent Mack some writing.
We have had so many writers here, and publishers calling, but your name keeps floating to the top, she said, and asked me to come to Louisburg, to write about Jessie, while its all still fresh in our minds.
I said I would. Then I went back to making dinner with a sense that Id been all-consumed by Jesicas story because I was meant to write about her, and here was the proof.
Bind the wound and grease the weapon. I began to download everything I could on Jesica: how shed been born with restrictive cardiomyopathy, a condition that meant her heart was enlarged and inefficiently oxygenating her body; how she was originally from Arroyo Hondo, Mexico, a tiny town 100 miles from Guadalajara; how the family, while being smuggled by a coyote over the Texas-Mexico border, had been robbed at gunpoint of everything they had, including the earrings in Jesicas ears. How Magdalena wanted to bury Jesica in her hometown a trip the Mexican government offered to pay for but could not for fear of not being allowed back in the U.S.
I read Dukes early opaque press postings regarding Jesica, and two days after her death, a message from Ralph Snyderman, M.D., president and CEO of Duke University Health Systems, which began, I have never been more proud to be a part of the Duke University Medical Center family, and concluded . . . the institution has been open, honest and forthright [and has] risen higher than ever before. I read about a man in Florida who claimed Jesicas angelic aura had cured his cancer, and was now petitioning the Pope to make her a saint, and this from syndicated columnist Michelle Malkin, author of Invasion: How America Still Welcomes Terrorists, Criminals and Other Foreign Menaces to Our Shores, posted the day before Jesica died: We cannot ignore the tough public-policy questions in Jesicas case that the sob-story writers at The New York Times prefer to paper over: When resources are as scarce as the supply of voluntarily donated organs notoriously are, why shouldnt U.S. citizens get top priority? If Jesica recovers from the second heart-lung transplant, will any federal immigration authority have the guts to enforce the law and send her and her family home?
A frail girl, a huge institution, a medical disaster, idolatry and bigotry, it smelled so American and like a big book. Ambition fluttered: Jesica had borne the brunt of others mistakes, and had sent the only flares she could: The organs, I read, had quickly turned from a healthy red to a livid purple, as her body went into seizures, trying again and again to reject them. I would not let this horror, and the xenophobia directed at Jesicas family, and Dukes obfuscation, be thrown away like yesterdays news. I would write a book, for fame and glory, but also to keep Jesica alive, in words.
I was at the zoo when the news broke that Elizabeth Smart had been found alive. As the word miracle buzzed from the cubicles, I thought, where was Jesicas miracle? Within two days, it was reported more than 100 movie and book offers had poured in for Smarts story. I suspected I was the only one writing about Jesica, and was so glad.
Not that the issue had dropped off the radar: The March 16 New York Times Magazine was devoted to medicine, and titled Half of What Doctors Know Is Wrong. Though there was nothing in it specifically about Jesica, the thrust of the issue was that medicine is an evolving and ever-reactive odyssey. That same night, Duke University Hospitals CEO, Dr. William Fulkerson, told Ed Bradley, on a segment of 60 Minutes about Jesica titled Anatomy of a Mistake, Unfortunately, I think historically the way a lot of issues have been identified and analyzed and improved has been in a reactive fashion, after something has occurred. And unfortunately, were reacting in [Jesicas] case.
Yes, I told the friends watching the program with me, except that Jesicas death was not the result of some cutting-edge technology doctors are still getting the bugs out of, or an unforeseen problem encountered during surgery. This was a simple screwup: Dr. James Jaggers got a call about an available heart, type A blood, and when the patient for whom the organ had been offered a patient whose name appeared on the list of possible recipients was deemed an unsuitable match, Jaggers asked if there were lungs with the heart? And there were, and so began the process of the organs being flown from Boston, and Jesica being driven to Duke, and in order to save time (because the highly perishable organs were held up on the runway in Boston for an hour due to bad weather), she was prepped for surgery, possibly (probably) to the point where her own organs were removed and she was placed on life support. But there was a problem: Jaggers had neglected to check whether the organs blood type matched Jesicas, whose name, while on a national registry, had not appeared on this list as a possible recipient for these organs because she was type O.
During his 60 Minutes interview, Jaggers struck me as a man divided: shattered during the opening, as though he was moving robotically through his life. And then, fatalistic, explaining that what he and others do is miraculous, its extraordinary, and sometimes things go wrong, and patients do not live. He said something about it being 3 in the morning when he got the call about the organs, and maybe his judgment was off. I had no idea what to make of Jaggers.
I boarded a plane for North Carolina in late March. From Raleigh-Durham, the Mahoneys home was a 45-mile drive, in Louisburg, in a half-built subdivision at the end of a circular court. As a runty, bat-eared dog barked at our feet, Nita threw her arms around me in welcome, then sat me at her kitchen counter and poured me a big glass of Diet Coke.
Me and Mack are just common folk, she said. She did look the part in a large smock-like top, short mussed hair, and a light sweat going at all times from diabetes and high blood pressure.
Move your car or my postman will have a fit, was the first thing Mack said to me, as he came in from a job and tossed his keys on the counter crowded with junk food and paperwork. Hes of average height, and wore the Panama hat he always wore on TV, perhaps, I could now see, because he is bald. He has a scruffy auburn beard and had a portion of his jaw and throat scooped out to remove tumors brought on by Agent Orange. He waved off his wifes offer of a cold drink and told me to follow him up to his attic office, which is also JHC headquarters.
The walls were covered with photos of six JHC kids three of whom have died, one at Duke while Jesica was there but mostly of Jesica, including a large studio portrait of her dressed as an angel, with Macks arm around her.
She said she wanted to take a picture with me, he said, smiling. I said, Jesica, Im not even dressed up. She said, Oh, its okay. You look like my Mack. He began to rock his office chair back and forth. She was a beautiful girl. It was a shame what happened to that baby. You see how happy she was? When she was with us, she just glowed out loud.
Mack first learned about Jesica from a June 2000 editorial in The Franklin Times accompanied by a picture of then-14-year-old Jesica. The editorial explained that money was needed not for a transplant, but a series of cardiac catheterizations, each of which cost $7,000. The following day, as reported in JHC press materials, Mack guaranteed payment of the procedures, and, after being impressed by this brave little girls optimism, committed himself to raising the $350,000 needed for the transplant surgery.
By August 2000, Mack and Nita, well known Franklin County homebuilders, established Jesicas Hope Chest as a nonprofit, and they had a plan: build a house with donated labor and materials, sell it, and use the proceeds to fund the operation. It took two years and was finally sold, on Christmas Day, 2002, an event that prompted headlines on the JHC Web site such as, There really is a Santa Claus!
It was not as if Mack and Nita didnt have anything else to do. Hed run Elizabeth Doles senatorial campaign in Franklin County, and in 2001, the Franklin County Chamber of Commerce awarded the Chamber Business Leader Award to the M.E. Mahoney Building Company. The couple had plenty of work as far away as Virginia, not to mention two grown children and several grandchildren, and dozens of employees.
Why Mack reached out to Jesica and, later, other critically ill children was, he said, as simple as seeing a child in need. It is not that simple. Jesica whose condition Dukes Pediatric Cardiovascular Program, as early as November 2000, described as uniformly fatal . . . she is likely to die in the next one to two years. Her death will be sudden was something to fight for, and Mack likes to fight. Long before he became an international figure for taking Duke to the mat, he was butting heads with people who didnt give him what he wanted for Jesica. In 2001, he publicly criticized Duke after, he says, it reneged on an agreement to treat some of Jesicas needs on a pro bono basis. He trashed a local builders association for not being more onboard with Macks plan to build more Jesicas houses. But he begrudged none of the time Jesica took; he wanted me to know he loved the girl, and she him.
Jesica used to call me 20 times a day. I couldnt get anything done, he said, with a grin. When me and Nita went to see our kids in Texas, she called the phone machine over and over again. When I got back, I said, Jesica, now why did you do that? And she said, I just wanted to hear your voice. She always said, Youre my Mack.
Before Mack and I spent the next four hours talking about Duke, and sifting through the thousands of PayPal donations JHC received while Jesica lingered between operations; before I saw a copy of the anonymous $50,000 check as well as the shit-smeared dollar bill with attached note reading, JESICA SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ALLOWED TO GET THE TRANSPLANTS. USE THE ENCLOSED $1 TO GET THE FAMILY OUT OF MY COUNTRY; before I read the condolence letter from the governor and a cramped, six-page missive from a goth kid in Illinois who said he was in love with Jesica and was thinking about killing myself right here to see if my organs would work [for her], Mack wanted to get one thing straight with me:
The lawyers already contacted a writer at Random House they feel would be better. My heart beat in my throat. [The writer] did some checking up on you, he continued, and said some pretty bad things, such as, youre a single mom.
I wanted Mack to approve of me hed already told me he had the rights to Jesicas story, which I wanted to write almost as much as I wanted to breathe but I could see, by the smile playing at one corner of his mouth, that he was baiting me. I told him that was right, and that I also lived with my boyfriend, who was not the father of my child.
Mack seemed to have already dropped the subject. You know what [Dr. James] Jaggers said when he come out of surgery? He said it all went well, but there was an error; that the blood types didnt match, but that blood protein was the least important factor in a transplant, that hed already put her back on the transplant list, and that they could keep her alive for up to a year with chemotherapy drugs.
At the height of Jesicas ordeal, typing her name into Googles News search yielded more than 20,000 documents, but nothing Id read touched on this.
And you know what [Duke spokesman Richard] Puff told the Louisburg papers? asked Mack, his voice a hard rasp. Rejection is always a factor early on. They wanted to keep the whole thing quiet, but they didnt count on this cowboy. I was Dukes worst nightmare!
He leaned into my tape recorder. Do you know what that CNN cameraman said to me the last time I left my hotel [near the hospital]? He said, Mr. Mahoney, do you realize that you have stood for the past two weeks where few men have ever stood? Youve stood at the center of the world stage. CNN broadcasts to 70-something countries, and your words have been translated into 47 different languages. Youve stood where presidents and monarchs have stood.
He then told a derogatory story, involving too much drinking and possible spousal abuse, about Melecio Huerta, who the world knew as Jesicas dad, but who Mack told me was not her dad, nor was he married to Magdalena, but another woman, in Mexico. The story included how he, Mack, had called the local sheriff and gotten him to agree not to disclose to the newspapers that Melecio had been arrested, as well as how hed parried with a social-services woman who wanted Magdalena to press charges.
She said, Mr. Mahoney, I dont know what kind of control you have over this family, but this is none of your business, said Mack, his voice high as he parroted the woman. I told her, were going to get these charges dropped. Then, I called the D.A.s Office . . . I said, if this thing comes up in court, its gonna be a big problem for me, and its gonna be a problem for Franklin County, because everyones gonna start digging into your affairs, and I said, I am going to tell you right now, you cant afford that. And he took that offensively! Charges were eventually dropped.
Mack wanted me to laugh along; I did. Then he said he was going to make Melecio get a divorce and marry Magdalena, to sluice the immigration process. And if she doesnt want to marry him, I can marry her to someone else, he said.
When I asked if Magdalena wanted to get married, Mack gave me a look that said I was naive.
It dont matter what she wants, he said. These people essentially have a sixth-grade education; where they come from there arent even roads. Theyll do what I tell them to do.
Mack took me to what he called Jessies favorite place in the world, a comfy downstairs den that had a singing bass on the wall and smelled of cinnamon carpet deodorizer. He had a Corona as we watched war coverage on the big screen; he told me he was a Vietnam vet and wanted this war over quickly.
Nita set down a plate of Hot Pockets. Magdalena and thems coming over.
My heart was in my throat again. I was about to meet the woman Id empathized with every hour for the past month, a mother whod actually lost her child, as opposed to me, whod appropriated grief. What right did I have? I desperately did not want to impose on Magdalena, I wanted to be invisible, and then she was walking past me, a small woman in shorts who gave me a weary glance before sitting in a loveseat opposite me. Mack told her in Spanish that Id be writing a book about Jesica. She did not seem particularly interested, or maybe was just too polite or exhausted to ask, who the hell are you? Lets all go out to dinner, said Nita. Magdalena would meet us there. I drove with Mack in his Expedition.
Youre sitting in the seat she used to sit in, he said, and slid in what he said was Jesicas favorite CD, Mexican pop music as sweet and bubbly as pink soda. Nita clapped, and I hung my head out the window, and felt amazed: I had wanted so much to be here, and here I was.
We climbed the porch of a small Mexican restaurant that appeared so low-key as to be closed. Magdalena, Melecio a heavyset man with a teardrop-shaped face and their 6-year-old daughter Dulce and 8-year-old son Ulises were already at a table. I sat across from Magdalena. She has a spray of dark discolorations on her cheeks, thick eyebrows, and small, girlish hands. She looked not on the edge of grief, but sleepwalking, and when spoken to softly said, Mmm hmm. When the food came, she picked a gordita off her plate and held it to me, and watched me eat it. I gave her some shrimp cocktail, which she said was Jesicas favorite dish.
While Nita made the kids wash up, Melecio, Magdalena, Mack and I stood on the porch. Magdalena felt strongly the book should also be published in Spanish; I agreed. Melecio then said something in Spanish that made Magdalena laugh, and when she did, I felt as though I fully exhaled for the first time in a month.
Mack likes you, Nita confided the next day. He wants you to write the book.
You can stay here this week, said Mack, and then drove me to see Jesica, whose mausoleum is on a hill in a new graveyard.
She was a pretty famous girl in Louisburg. I made her famous, said Mack, as he righted a large heart-shaped wreath that had blown over.
Id wanted to come here since the day she was interred, had imagined many times being able to tell Jesica how sorry I was, to mourn in her presence. Mack had other ideas, and as I pressed my hand to the cool marble crypt, he recited the presidents-and-monarchs story again.
We bought all her clothes for her, you know, said Mack, when we were back at the house, standing before the mantel, with its many portraits of Jesica dressed as an angel. But I would not buy her some of the stuff she wanted, hip-huggers and midriff tops. I told her, that stuff makes you look like a little slut.
I felt as though Id been slapped across the face. I turned away from him and knelt in front of a big trunk, which Jesica had spray-painted gold and stuffed with Mardi Gras beads, toy dollar bills, oversized coins, and photos of herself and her siblings. This was Jesicas hope chest, and before it was a big photo album.
Thats Jesicas diary, said Nita. She left it here the day of the operation.
I opened the book. There was no writing in it, only drawings, of a rose being pierced by a knife, Latin girls with boobs bursting out of skimpy tops and boys in muscle cars, temporary tattoos that read Naughty As I Want To Be and Sweet Thing, and pictures of Shakira and Enrique Iglesias torn from magazines. I knew Jesica had barely gone to school; she was a very sick girl on sudden-death watch who spent her days in bed watching novelas. Shed never kissed a boy; never got her period; never developed breasts. But she yearned like any other teenage girl, and I was holding the record of those yearnings, a secret scrapbook virtually identical to the ones my daughter makes. I knew it would not make the cut in the hagiography Mack was bent on shaping; hed asked me several times how he could copyright her name and image. And though he was fond of saying, Jesica was a mess, but she was my mess, he wanted her known as immaculate, and nodded when Nita asked if Id consider calling the book Jesica: Gods Angel.
It was becoming clear Mack meant to control Jesicas legacy as hed controlled her life. With the exception of her never telling him that Melecio was not her real father (an omission that nagged Mack), he insisted he was her alpha and omega, and not without reason: Hed named his organization for her, and told her he would save her life. He fought for her. He also fought with her: Hed given me a photo of a glowering Jesica at a JHC fund-raiser.
Shed seen me talking to Sarah, says Mack, of another JHC child whod undergone a successful heart-lung transplant. Jesica could not stand me to pay attention to anyone but her.
But if Jesica was greedy for Macks attention, it is no wonder: Stuck at home all day with Nita (Mack insisted Jesica never wanted to go to her own home); deemed too weak to attend school, first by the Mahoneys, then by the doctors (though she very much wanted to go), and with Mack the only person she saw daily with whom she could converse (Nita speaks no Spanish), why would she not call him 20 times a day? Who else was she going to talk to? And if Mack minded, it was not evident in his stories, including one he told several times.
We was riding in the car one day, Nita was there, and I said to Jesica, Someday youre gonna get yourself a hairy-legged boyfriend and fall in love. And she was real quiet for a minute, and then she said that she didnt think that was gonna happen; she said, I could never give my heart to anyone else, Mack, because you bought it for me.
Mack literally had; hed paid for everything for Jesica and her siblings, found Magdalena a job, employed Melecio, rented the family homes; hed arranged and financed Jesicas medical care, and yet none of it was enough. I tried to save a young girls life, and I failed, were among the first words Mack ever said to me. I did not think Mack was used to failure, to having anyone tell him no, to having things taken away, and certainly not with the random brutality with which he lost Jesica. Maybe this was why to me he was becoming not merely overbearing but worrisome.
Nita fixed dinner: dry pork chops, biscuits with margarine, cold red wine. Mack told hours of stories disparaging Melecio, Jesicas relatives, Duke University. In every tale, he was the hero, fighting for damsel Jesica, who was portrayed as jealous of her best friend Heather, of other JHC kids, of the Mahoneys two grown daughters. He and Nita did not seem to find this at all odd. They also did not tire. They told me about taking Jesica to doctors appointments, to school when she was able, to the zoo in Charleston . . . the zoo?
What animals did Jesica like? I asked.
Mack looked puzzled. Liked? I dont know. I think she liked the polar bears.
I was constantly telling Duke [after the first transplant], You have a chance here to be a hero; join me . . . get this baby the organs she needs, but dont waste no more time.
It was 5:45 in the morning, and Mack, still in his bedclothes, had given me a cup of coffee and told me to turn on the tape recorder.
Instead of doing that, they fought me, he said, they kicked me, they tried every way in the world to get me out of their building . . . They told the parents that they needed to get rid of me, they needed to pull away from me, that I was talking to the press, it was interfering with their daughters medical care, which was a lie.
He said Magdalena pleaded with him not to say anything to the press. She said we needed to trust the doctors; that they had her daughters life in their hands and she did not want anything I said to upset them and affect how they were caring for Jesica.
I had a flash of Magdalena in the hospital hallway, begging Mack, please; he was riling the people who quite literally could decide whether her daughter lived or died. I bit my lips.
But it didnt matter, said Mack. I wouldve still been doing what I was doing, even if Magdalena said no, because Id already decided this needed to be done.
Melecio came in, ready for work.
You need to marry Magdalena, Mack told him.
Melecio shrugged. She dont want to marry me.
Where is she? asked Mack. Is she home?
Mack, Nita and I drove down a shady street lined with weathered wooden houses, one of which Mack rents for the Santillan family. Magdalenas car was not there.
Where could she be? asked Mack. We took a short drive through Louisburg, past the college where Magdalena had worked as a cleaner, past a statue that honored the Confederacy, and back to the house.
Look, Mack, said Nita, pointing. Her cars pulling in.
Magdalena saw Macks truck and froze, her hand on her car door. She was wearing a silky white blouse with a pattern of black flowers, and looked as though shed been crying.
Shes probably snuck out to the cemetery, Nita whispered to me, as Magdalena and Mack went in the house. I stayed on the porch.
You can go in, said Nita.
I opened the screen door. The house, which the family had moved into in December 2002, had little furniture and felt unlived in. I walked down the hall, and stood on the threshold of Jesicas room: a small bed, a desk, an unplugged computer . . .
Nancy, come in here, said Mack. He was at the kitchen table with Magdalena, speaking to her in Spanish about me, about marrying Melecio, about needing to sign the insurance papers Nita was waving before her. Magdalena sat facing a big window, not looking at Mack as he told her she needed to speak to me, tears forming but not falling as she murmured, Mmm hmm.
I watched Magdalena pick an envelope off the table and rub its edge, over and over. This is exactly what I do when I am trying not to cry. As she rubbed, and rubbed, I began to feel increasingly horrible. I wanted to tell she did not need to speak with me, and told Mack to translate this, but instead he said, She loves your daughter. He was trying to make me look worthy, but this was the last thing I felt; I felt like one more person ripping the scab off her anguish. I looked at her hand, three inches from mine, and wanted to hold it but did not have the courage. There were three photos of Jesica on the wall, looking down on us. Mack kept talking, Magdalena kept rubbing and saying, Mmm hmm, and finally, not knowing what to do, I took two photos of my daughter from my wallet.
Mi hija, I said.
Magdalena looked at them. Muy bonita, sí?
Sí, como Jesica.
She rubbed my daughters school photo between her fingers. Only one? she asked. I nodded. Maybe, uno más? she asked, her dark eyes impish.
Sí, I said, maybe uno más.
Me, uno más, para Yesica, she said, and then she told Mack her cousin in Mexico was pregnant, and if it was a girl, she would name her after Jesica. This moment was like a sparkler, and then it went out. Again, Mack hammered her with demands, to speak with me, to sign the papers, to get married, and again she was saying, Mmm hmm, and rubbing the envelope, and crying. And I started to cry; I shielded my eyes, and then wiped them with a shred of paper towel. It became wet and stained with mascara, and I stuck it in with the photos in my wallet, where it is to this day.
Magdalena signed the papers, and as we left, I touched the arm of her blouse, and told her it was pretty. She smiled.
In the morning, I took flowers to the cemetery on the hill. I stood alone before Jesicas yet-to-be-engraved crypt and told her how sorry I was. I did not cry. It struck me that, distilled to its simplest form, Id done what I came to do, which was place roses on a young girls grave and tell her mother how sorry I was.
Mack wanted me to meet with the lawyers, to discuss the book, and had made them send a stretch limo to drive us to Greenville. It was fully stocked, with booze and fresh fruit, and a TV that showed an ad for 1-800-HURTLINE, as Mack told me that the lawyers had found an attorney who was a specialist in brain death. He gave me the mans card; his office was on Long Island. I looked at Mack, who was crowing about going for 100 million, and realized he was an unsophisticated man. He started in for the hundredth time about how Jesica was jealous of everyone, including his grown daughters.
But my older daughter was jealous of her, too, he said, and added how his daughters didnt trust him around other women, owing to a past indiscretion on his part. Like right now, they wouldnt be happy that I was alone with you in this limo.
Then your daughters are imbeciles, I said.
Macks smile froze. I didnt know or care whether he was trying to bait or come on to me; I did not feel like playing.
The lawyers offices are in a three-story home with gleaming wood banisters and fake floral arrangements. Mack and I were shown into a formal conference room, and joined by a compact man in a good suit. Frank Cassiano, the lead lawyer, sat at the head of the table.
We spoke to the Santillans last night to ask whether they knew their name was not on this contract, he said, referring to the book agreement my agent had sent through.
Mack sprung out of his seat as though hed been shocked.
You have no right to go behind my back and speak with those people, he shouted, standing over Frank with his fist tensed.
Whoa, whoa, said Frank, shielding himself. Are you saying I am not allowed to speak with my own clients? Then he turned on me. Show me in this contract how the Santillans are taken care of financially.
He cited a point where Mack warranted he had the rights to sell Jesicas story.
Oh, I didnt even really read that part, scoffed Mack, and sat back down, which is when I realized that, just as hed assumed everything else having to do with the Santillan family, hed assumed the rights to Jesicas life, and Id been too eager to write about her to consider who owned what. I felt myself retract into in my chair.
These people arent going to understand contracts, said Mack. They barely have a sixth-grade education!
I dont think thats an assumption you can make, Mack, said Frank.
Oh, for Christs sake, said Mack, screwing up his face. Were just gonna sign the damn papers.
No, were not, Mack, said Frank.
Mack stood again, went to the window, and smacked the sill so hard I flinched. Come on, Nancy, he said, lets go.
I didnt move. The curtain that had been parting regarding Mack that he would subsume whatever was around him; that his relationship with Jesicas family had gone from protector to dictatorcame fully open.
I said, come on! he barked. I sat still. He gave me an odd, sad look, and left. I calmly told Frank I now found the agreement, more a letter of intent that stated Mack and I agreed to work together, unacceptable and wouldnt sign.
Youve betrayed me! yelled Mack as he marched back in. He and Frank went head-to-head. Frank said Mack was trying to control the Santillans, Mack countered that hed been the one supporting the family, and what did we think, that theres some sort of pay fairy?
Kurt Dixon, the lawyer Id seen on TV representing the Santillan family, arrived and tried to placate Mack as Frank surreptitiously wrote me notes on a legal pad: I sometimes trust [Macks] judgment 100% and other times, not at all, and, Is this a book you would want to do with Magdalena? to which I softly said, Yes, sir.
Ill get them to sign over the rights to me, said Mack, marginally cooler. When I told him this was unacceptable to me, that it was the Santillans story, he waved me off.
You dont worry about it, he said.
When I told him I had to worry about it, his arm shot across the table.
Nobody cares what you think! he said, his finger practically up my nose. Youll just write the damn book!
Whoa, whoa! said Frank. Do you hear what you just said to her, Mack? How you are trying to control her?
Three hours after wed entered the conference room, we left it. Before I got in the limo for the drive back to Louisburg, Frank told me to keep in touch and handed me his card. He was a truck-injury attorney.
On the drive back to Louisburg, Mack tried to get me to agree the lawyers had been deceitful; I would not.
Well, then you wont write the book, he said. When I didnt say anything, he changed tacks, grew buttery and assured me, It will all work out. I gave a few noncommittal hmms, but mostly, sat in the small dark space in silence.
Back at the Mahoneys, I went immediately to the cinnamon-scented den and booked a 6 a.m. flight home. Mack was yelling, She cant get out of here fast enough! as I dragged my bags upstairs.
He and Nita were at the kitchen table. They hadnt turned on the lights.
You see what our lives are like, said Nita, fretful and sweaty. She went on to talk about how We really dont need the Santillans to tell the story, as they are only a small part of it. I disagreed. She said shed assumed the book would be by Mack Mahoney, as told to Nancy Rommelmann. I told her this was an incorrect assumption. It was clear they felt any book about Jesica was actually about them, because, as theyd told me countless times, theyd been the ones who found her, who loved her, who devoted inordinate amounts of time and resources to her. And I thought, for a moment, that perhaps they were fighting so hard to control what was left of Jesica because they simply could not bear to let her go, a concept I understood in my heart.
Were from Texas, and weve worked with Mexicans all our lives, said Nita. And they are human beings, but theyre not like us. They dont think like us. To them, money is the thing.
I envisioned jet packs on the backs of my shoes. The Mahoneys each carried a piece of my luggage to the car. Nita hugged me. Mack did, too.
Be good, girl, he said, and thrust five JHC T-shirts into my hands.
Id been home two days before Mack called, with what he said was good news.
I got the family to sign over the rights to Jesicas story, which means were free to write the book. When I told him I would not write a book with him, he was silent for about five seconds.
Then send me all my stuff back, he said, and hung up.
I spent the next six weeks underwater. In my minds eye, Jesica was there and we sat quietly. I wrote some assignments I dont recall. I got a raise and fired from the zoo in the same day. I spent my evenings in front of the NBA playoffs typing page after page about Jesica. I raged against Mack to anyone who would listen; that his consummate need to control everything about Magdalenas life would only prolong her misery. I did, for a while, want very much to save Magdalena; I sent her a letter via Frank whom I called each week for an update to apologize for disappearing, and to tell her Id do whatever she wanted regarding a book, but the letter was not delivered. Postings about Jesica on the Web shrank, and then disappeared. And then one day, I forgot to check. The terror and melancholy that had kept me clinging to her began to slip off me like effervescence, and though it felt like one more person failing her, I let go of Jesica, and rose to the surface.
The phone rang a month later at midnight. Part of my sleep-addled mind knew it was Frank Cassiano.
Hes drunk on fame, he said. His breath on the phone sounded labored and wet. Some incredible stuff has happened, he said. Are you ready to hear it?
I stood in the yard in my pajamas, and listened to a two-hour monologue about how Mack had arranged for Magdalena to speak on-air with the family of the original organ donor; that hed excitedly told Frank, We cant buy this kind of publicity! and how Frank had yanked Magdalena from Macks home with the cameras there before the spectacle could air.
I get a screaming call later from Mack saying, If you ever embarrass me again it will be the last thing you do! I said, Are you threatening me, Mack? and he said, Its a promise. And dont think I cant get them people to fire you by tomorrow.
Which is exactly what Mack did; he also had Magdalenas phone disconnected, which meant Frank could not reach her by phone. More, Kurt Dixon had quit the firm to stick with Mack and represent Magdalena, and had sent out a press release stating as much in which he misspelled the word attorney.
The betrayal is so intense.
The betrayal, I knew, was why he was alone in his office at four in the morning. Jesicas case was clearly the biggest thing Frank had ever done and one he told me would make his name, but also make something right for Jesica and her family. Hed had that taken away; he would not be given the chance to help Jesica or Magdalena, and he was heartsick, and was calling me because he knew Id know exactly how he felt.
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It took months for me to realize this was not about betrayal, but being left out. But why should I have been included? As much as I may have thought of myself as a participant in Jesicas tragedy, my pain was fabricated and self-inflicted, and I think now, had I really been her mother, I would have looked at someone like me and said, What are you doing here? Why cant you leave us alone? Why I imagined I could provide deus ex machina is perhaps presumptuous, even shameful, but I dont think it is unique; believing one can swoop in and deliver salvation is powerful stuff; Frank thought he could be Jesicas hero, too, albeit he tried harder than I did, for longer.
The truth is, we dont often get to pick our heroes. Mack, for better and for worse, has been Jesicas champion for four years. He still runs Jesicas Hope Chest, and is still fighting for Magdalena. He is the last man standing. While his firing of Frank was unceremonious, it was perhaps prudent: Since June, Jesicas case has been handled by Howard Nations, a highly regarded personal-injury lawyer from Houston, Texas, who said last week by phone, Weve gathered all the facts about what happened to Jesica, and we are in negotiations and making every effort to come to a settlement with Duke. He sounded confident.
Had Mack not blown the whistle on Duke, the world never would have known of Jesica Santillan, of this I am certain. As a direct result of her death, Duke last year instituted procedural changes that bars doctors from requesting organs for patients not on the recipient list, and that also requires more than one person checks that blood types match. JHC recently produced a series of public service announcements, in English and Spanish, featuring Magdalena speaking about the importance of organ donation, a crusade that, according to Nations, has lifted her out of her grief and provided some purpose to her daughters death. Last August, Melecio left and went back to Mexico. Magdalena remains in Louisburg. While her status in the United States is in limbo, she and her two surviving children continue to be supported by Mack, who recently installed a marble bench near Jesicas mausoleum, where Magdalena goes and sits five days a week.


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[original article: http://www.opc.org/os.html?article_id=13]
A Review of BibleWorks 7.0
Arthur J. Fox
Ordained Servant ,
Let us begin with a few caveats. First and most importantly: a Bible software program is no substitute for a healthy devotional life. Even if you become an expert in the use of BibleWorks or any other program, if you do not have a living and growing relationship with Christ, any work you produce using that software will not please God.
Second, and closely related to this: a program does not make a scholar. You must do the hard work of understanding the text you are studying and use the software to that end or you may just end up with a technical display that edifies no one. I speak personally. I am a pastor who preaches two sermons a week and teaches a Bible study as well as a Sunday School class. I use BibleWorks to aid me in preparing my notes. But at a recent Session meeting I received the helpful criticism that my sermons were more Bible studies than sermons and that people were not hearing the gospel. I had my cross references in order, along with depth of material, but this was next to useless because I assumed that it was enough. Greek and Hebrew vocabulary are not what make a sermon or Bible study useful to God's people. A heart for people that drives you into the Word does.
With a heart that is set right and eyes fixed on Christ, and with prayer for the Spirit's help, BibleWorks 7 is a marvelously helpful tool in the preparation of sermons or to make personal Bible study more effective and efficient. It begins with the Command Center (http://www.Bibleworks.com/content/new.html).
There are three parts to the Command Center: 1) The Search window where you type in either the passage reference or the word/phrase you want to study, 2) the Browse window where each verse containing your text appears, one at a time, and 3) the Analysis window where the program will give you cross references and grammatical and lexical descriptions of each word and verse.
This third, Analysis window, is the major redesign for this version of BibleWorks. Not only can you analyze the verses and words, but you can also click on a tab and actually write your study, based on that data, right in the program. Unlike previous editions, BibleWorks 7's Editor window aligns the text and allows formatting of the text. Had I wished, I could actually have written this article in that window.
BibleWorks 7 also allows you to set up a different configuration for every use you might put the program to—you can have one version for general study, another for sermon preparation or Bible study preparation, still another to do your own personal translation of the Bible, set up your own concordance for a book of the Bible—the possibilities seem endless. The Command Center can be rearranged to suit your needs. The three windows, for example, can be set up to have the Analysis window, which contains the Editor window tab, appear below the Browser window, and thus be wider in appearance on the screen.
This program is loaded with 33 English versions of the Bible, plus two Latin, nine German, seven Dutch, seven Spanish, seven French, and three Italian versions, plus Danish, Hungarian, Vietnamese, and other Bible translations.
The scholar gets to work with 15 Hebrew and Aramaic texts, 19 Greek Texts (including variations on the Majority Text and the Septuagint), 34 lexical and grammatical reference works for Greek, Hebrew and Aramaic, as well as Matthew Henry's commentary, maps and dozens of other features which there is not enough room to list. There are also such reference works as Nave's Topical Bible, Robertson's Word Pictures, the Easton Bible Dictionary, Metzger's textual commentary and some basic grammars for Hebrew and Greek (beginning Greek by Davis and beginning Hebrew by Futato). The Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms, with Bible references, are also included, and can be searched like any Bible version (for the version adopted by the OPC, with revised proof texts, see http://opc.org/confessions.html).
In addition, there are modules that can be unlocked at reasonable prices (the copyright fees must be paid!) and they include full versions of Bauer, Danker, Arndt and Gingrich's massive Lexicon of the Greek Testament and the more massive Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament by Koehler, Baumgartner and Stamm (but Brown, Driver and Briggs are included for free).
Is all of this worth the money? Let me answer that question by citing a personal example of the use I put this new version to just moments after installing it.
I was studying Hebrews 2:11 and wanted to understand what the relationship was between verse 10's doctrine that the champion of our salvation was perfected through suffering and verse 11's statement that he is one with those he came to sanctify. It all hung on the simple two letter Greek particle te. I had studied the particle in all of the grammars and lexicons I had available on my shelves but was still unsure. However, when I studied it using the reference works tab in the Analysis window of BibleWorks 7, I found a clear explanation in one of the grammars I do not have on my shelf (Greek Enchiridion: A Concise Handbook of Grammar and Exegesis by MacDonald.) I also had the option of using the sentence diagram of the passage supplied with the program or making my own sentence diagram of the passage.
BibleWorks 7 is a tool that can be used by anyone who wishes to delve more deeply into the Bible. You do not have to use every feature for it to be valuable. But it will help you grow in your understanding of God's Word ... if you have the commitment and heart to grow!
Arthur J. Fox is pastor of Calvary Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Middletown, Pennsylvania.

subset: commoncrawl


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Nausicca wrote:Inside a governnent facility outside of Roswell New Mexico, scientists have discovered a new element, a mineral called cykronium. Scientists think it can be used as an alternate energy source. After some tests, they found that their theories were right. The cykronium powered the whole facility. The whole project was kept secret within the facility due to the high risk of nuclear meltdowns. It was even kept hidden from the government. Everything went well... until one day, the worse-case-scenario happened, a nuclear meltdown. The meltdown was so powerful, it started destroying the facility from the inside. And worse yet, caused a dimensional rift that brought a hostile alien species called the Korban. The Korban mercilessly killed scientists. No one could stop them... except for some research associates who were exposed to a high level of cykronium radiation. Instead of killing them like normal radiation, it gave them the ability to grow weapons from their limbs. They're called cykrons. And they have to stop the Korbans before they escape the facility.
To sign up, say your forum name, and tell me what weapon you want to grow out of your arms OR legs.
Old Topic: http://www.brikwars.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=4868
Note: This is a 'Modded' version of the game, which uses a d6 instead of a d20


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George, Pacers use 3rd-quarter surge to rally past Hawks 101-85, even series at 1-1
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INDIANAPOLIS – The Pacers got tired of talking trash.
That left them with plenty of energy to handle the Hawks on Tuesday night.
Paul George scored 27 points, George Hill added 15 in the second half and that suffocating defense that seemed to vanish over the past few weeks was back in force. Atlanta couldn't contend with the Pacers' resurgent combination, falling 101-85 and into a 1-1 tie in the best-of-seven playoff series.
"We put our print on this game in the third quarter, which we've done when playing November, December and January basketball," George said. "We got back to that (Tuesday). I thought we did a great job of locking in after coming out in the second half. We just stayed the course."
For weeks, all the talk has been about the "implosion."
After starting 33-7, Indiana finished 56-26 yet somehow managed to hold onto the No. 1 seed in the Eastern Conference. On Saturday, they gave home-court advantage right back to the Hawks, prompting TNT commentator Charles Barkley to call the Pacers "wussies," reigniting the debate over whether they were worthy of a No. 1 seed.
For the next 72 hours, George and his teammates were constantly questioned again about what was wrong. For the next 72 hours, they defiantly insisted everything would be OK.
On Tuesday, it was.
Now Indiana must prove it can maintain this level of play, starting with Game 3 in Atlanta on Thursday. The Pacers have only two wins in Atlanta since December 2006, though one of those closed out last year's first-round playoff series in six games.
"We couldn't go down 0-2. We're still down in the series, but we feel good about where we are," David West said. "The most encouraging thing is the way we played defensively. We didn't allow (Jeff) Teague to play playground basketball on us. We took that personally, a little bit."
Perhaps, a lot.
Indiana limited the Hawks to 33 second-half points and dominated the third quarter.
George added 10 rebounds, six assists, four steals and one block while going 9 of 16 from the field, 5 of 7 on 3-pointers, and 4 for 4 at the free-throw line. Plus, he contained Teague after the Hawks' point guard burned Indiana for 28 points in Game 1. George wanted the challenge of guarding Teague, who had seven points in the first quarter and seven more the rest of the game.
"I sat down and it was homework for me, just locking into his tendencies and figuring out where I will get beat or where I'm vulnerable against him," George said. "It's a challenge."
George was the catalyst, but he had plenty of help.
Hill, who had been mired in an offensive funk, made 5 of 6 shots in the second half. Luis Scola, who kept the Pacers close when West got into early foul trouble, finished with 20 points and seven rebounds. The defense that gave up 11 3-pointers in Game 1 and eight more in the first half of Game 2, allowed just two over the final 24 minutes.
"Our execution on both ends of the court wasn't at the level we need it to be," Hawks coach Mike Budenholzer said. "Give them credit, they were aggressive, they made a lot of plays and our execution, particularly in the third quarter, has to be better. That's what we'll work on."
Indiana appeared to be in trouble when it trailed 38-27 in the second quarter and was down 52-48 at halftime. But the Pacers stormed into the lead with a 31-13 third quarter.
West sparked a 25-2 run with a bank shot that made it 70-65 with 3:20 left in the third. George made a buzzer-beating 3 to make it 79-65 heading into the fourth, and the Pacers scored the first eight points of the final period.
"If that's what it took for everyone to understand how close this team is, that's what it was," George said. "We've got each other's back and that's what it felt like."
NOTES: Atlanta was trying to open a playoff series with two straight road wins for the first time since the St. Louis Hawks swept Baltimore 3-0 in the 1966 Western Division semifinals. ... Defending Indianapolis 500 champion Tony Kanaan attended the game. ... Atlanta outscored Indiana 30-16 in the third quarter Saturday.


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"Hey Siri" support and possibly wireless charging case alongside AirPower charging mat.
Apple 'Hard at Work' on Next Version of Logic Pro
MacRumors reader Nicholas wanted to hear confirmation straight from Apple and emailed CEO Tim Cook to ask about the future of Logic. His email was passed along to Apple's music product marketing chief, Xander Soren, who provided a distinct rebuttal to the original rumor.
Nicholas, thanks for your email. As the lead for our music creation apps, I always want to hear what our users are thinking. I want to assure you the team is still in place and hard at work on the next version of Logic Pro.The last major update of Logic came in mid-2009 with Logic Pro 9, although the company has made several improvements including adding 64-bit compatibility since that time. Following September 2011 rumors of Apple finishing up work on Logic X, the company did move Logic Pro 9 and MainStage 2 to the Mac App Store but otherwise did not make enhancements to the software.
Update: Russ Hughes of Pro Tools Expert contacted us to make clear that his original report said nothing about Apple's development work on Logic and addressed only the specialist team that assists professional users with using the software tools.
The EMEA [Europe, Middle East, and Africa] team responsible for nurturing and supporting the pro studios, post facilities and TV has gone from 12-2 in a matter of months, so we don't think the use of the term 'decimated' (even though a quote from our source) was off the scale. However as Apple has confirmed in their note to you, the pro coders are still [there], both in the USA and Germany - the team is around 60 strong.
Our question remains (which is not answered by the Apple statement) - are they willing to either deny or confirm that the team has been reduced from 12-2 in EMEA and if (as we know is the case) it is the truth, what does that say about Apple's commitment to pro users?
Top Rated Comments(View all)
On this blog, discuss current projects, what might becoming in the future, etc.
It would definitely put at ease people who think their favorite product is no longer being supported. In my particular case, I'd love to hear an update on how the development of the next Mac Pro is going, if it's even going at all.
Too much secrecy can be bad too. There needs to be a balance somewhere between complete silence and telling all.
Who cares if they get the team together and build something again how great it may be. Its so freakin late. Once it gets out who knows how long its going to take to see an update etc. In the meantime we're still stuck with overpriced Mac Pro's and other macs which get harder and harder to upgrade and/or repair.
Bitter party of 1. ;)
Relax guys..this negative attitude will seep into your music. Remember this little factoid. The tools you have today are unimaginably more powerful than Bach, Beethoven or Mozart had at their disposal. These tools allow you to create music despite not having as much talent (presumably) than the aforementioned composers.
Even if Logic Pro X doesn't come until 2014 you still have more power than anyone had even just a decade ago. Stop letting your tools be the reason why you cannot make great things.
I think Apple would do good to start a blog.
On this blog, discuss current projects, what might becoming in the future, etc.
It would definitely put at ease people who think their favorite product is no longer being supported. In my particular case, I'd love to hear an update on how the development of the next Mac Pro is going, if it's even going at all.
Too much secrecy can be bad too. There needs to be a balance somewhere between complete silence and telling all.
I don't think Apple would ever do that.
So were Final Cut Pro users... and Mac Pro users... and look how they were treated.
FCP X was updated and lacked several must-have features for pros, including multiple-camera support and the ability to open files from older versions of FCP. Oh, and you couldn't buy the old FCP anymore, so if you were a shop that needed to add a seat, that person could never open any projects anyone else was working on - you'd have to move everyone over to the new software, and then NO ONE could open any old projects.
Then the Mac Pro was updated to cutting-edge, top-of-the-line mid-2011 processors... in mid-2012.
It's pretty clear that Apple either has completely lost interest in the Pro market or has no idea what they need. Either way, if I were a pro user, I'd be seriously looking at Windows solutions now. Platform loyalty is all well and good, but pros have to take into account the bottom line both now and down the road.
I really hope Logic has a better fate and Apple gets their Pro act together, though.
FCPX has had more upgrades in its short lifetime than the previous version had in 3-4 years. Apple gaffed in that they stopped selling previous versions immediately but it was clear that it was beyond time to move off of archaic Quicktime and towards the future in AV Foundation. Apple should have just employed a dual strategy by putting FCP 7 in maintenance mode and continuing to improve FCPX rapidly as they have.
Apple hasn't lost interest in the Pro apps, it's just so much of their bottom line is mobile devices but they continue to move forward. I'm excited about seeing how they integrate the assets acquired from Redmatica and AV Foundation continues to improve and power exceptional updates to FCPX.
The future still looks bright. I don't need Apple to tell me their roadmap although it would be nice.
[ Read All Comments ]


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|Darien, Conn.
|High School:
Club Team: CTLF
Before Yale: Won state championships at Darien from 2007 to 2009 ... Won FCIAC championships in 2007 and 2009 ... Swam freshman year, then played three years of volleyball, in addition to playing lacrosse.
Notes: Vice president of her class and head of all activities for her school ... Class representative for two years ... Received the Ralph M. Gibbs award and the Principal's Award ... On the executive board of town's teen center... Sister, Samantha, played tennis at Colgate ... Brother, Charles, played tennis at Dartmouth ... Father, Charles, played football at Maryland ... Enjoys scuba diving and traveling.
Why Yale? "I have always wanted a city school and Yale fit the mold perfectly with its beautiful campus and New Haven city life. It only makes it more special that I will have outstanding coaches that I know want to win...which is exactly what I want."


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Views: 760
I am not suggesting that anyone should limit their speech on the mere possibility of a violent reaction. I am, however, stating that engaging in a specific speech/action DESIGNED to cause a violent reaction is not "free speech." It is incitement to violence. And that is what Terry Jones did.
So no burning of the Koran or charicatures of Mohammed is allowed under any circumstance since it will always be an incitement to violence, no matter the underlying cause? How does this help further the debate if we have to restrict our free speech? Who is judge whether or not an expression is an incitement to violence?
Can disillusioned soldiers burn the American flag as a symbol of their disillusionment, knowing full well it will be offensive and possibly incite violence? Should we ban abortions because it offends Christians and incite them to violence? Can I still burn my cell phone manual in anger over it not functioning correctly if my intentions is to incite violence?
These are not slippery slope arguments, just attempts at logical extensions of your statements. They leave more unanswered questioned than answered ones, or it could just be that I cannot wrap my head around your argument and I would therefore like a further elaboration as to why free speech should have this limit.
Are you burning the flag for the sole purpose of inciting violence? Are you getting your abortion for the sole purpose of inciting violence?
Conversely, do you really think anyone is going to have a violent reaction to you burning your own cell phone manual?
Terry Jones had no other purpose except to incite violence. That is not free speech. And by the way, he intends to do it again.
That is rubbish. The violence is the problem, not the burning of the koran. If someone wants to start a koran publishing company for the sole purpose of publishing copies of the koran and subsequently igniting each and every book that comes off the press and pissing on the flames, that would still be no excuse to murder another person.
What is rubbish is the implication that I have said anywhere that my position on Terry Jones allows for an "excuse to murder another person." And saying that my position is "rubbish" and then setting up a strawman is not actually addressing any of the points that I have made.
You have no proof that he intended to cause violence and causality is not proof of intent. Incitement to violence includes "solicitation to commit a crime" to a specific person or group against specific person or group.
Lee, I don't see a reply button on your response, but yes, I do have proof of his intent. I have his own words from last year and this year. He freely admits that he wanted exactly this response to prove his point. And he fully intends to do it again.
Moreover, he certainly was soliciting a specific group to commit a crime... he was trying to obtain a specific type of response from a specific group of people - and he got it. My argument has not failed.
If someone you hate asks you to go out and kill someone, and you subsequently do so, he cannot in any way, shape, or form be held responsible for it. No person in their right mind would take commands from people they abhor.
But one has to be able to prove intent. It is not enough to say that he should have known or even did know that violence would have result. According to USA criminal laws, Jones had to be intending to incite violence. Furthermore, I don't think the bizarre reaction on the part of Afghan Muslims was at all predictable...in fact it would have been deemed racist to even predict such a bizarre reaction.
As I said to Lee, Terry Jones' own words prove his intent to incite violence. He WANTED the violence to prove his point.
And if it was bizarre and racist to predict such violence from Terry Jones' actions, why did our own government predict this response last year when Terry Jones said he was going to pull a similar stunt last September? Was General Petraeus being a racist?
"He WANTED the violence to prove his point."
So what? You are held personally responsible for who you take commands from and what the results of your own actions are. Taking commands from somone you don't agree with is insane. Can I be held liable for insane people committing insane acts?


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Notice of Meeting
Unemployment Insurance Advisory Council
Date: Wednesday, February 2, 2012
Time: 9:30 a.m.
Place: Department of Workforce Development
GEF-1 Building
Room D-203
201 East Washington Avenue
Madison, Wisconsin
- Call to order and introductions
- Minutes of Meeting January 12, 2012 (blue)
- Financial Statements (yellow)
- Status of law changes approved on January 12, 2012
- Department proposal regarding rate of interest on delinquencies
- Department proposals for changes to Wis Admin Code Chapters DWD 126 and DWD 127
- SB-346 Benefits for employees affected by strike
- AB-450 Training for benefit claimants
- AB-457 Various changes to unemployment law
- Correspondence
- Future Meetings
- Other Business
- The Council may not address all agenda items or follow the agenda order.
- The Council may take up action items at a time other than that listed.
- The Council may discuss other items, including those on any attached lists.
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Bramleys even look beautiful cooking in the pan:
Wherever you are in the UK at the moment, the chances are you're being rained on. The sky seems to be a permanently murky grey colour and the rain is unrelenting. It is at such times that my thoughts turn to what is called "nursery food". I don't actually like the term because it always makes me think of milky rusks and pulpy food without any decent seasoning, but it seems to be used nowadays to describe comfort food of a sort that 'nanny' would've given us in our youth (what planet do the people live on who coin these phrases?)
This is another recipe for demanding types who like their baking to tick more than one box. It could be a dessert, or it could be a slice of something to have with a cup of tea. There's no need to put anything with it as you already have the apple and custard in the tart topped with lovely cream. Pure excess! The best kind.
This tart is made in layers. First, you bake the pastry case, this is my favourite shortcrust pastry made with butter and egg yolk and all things delicious; no anaemic pastry here! – here it is fresh from the oven, the paper and baking beans removed. I like the way you get little dents in the pastry from where the beans have sat:
Say goodbye to the pastry as it's covered in apple puree. Although sweetened the apple retains a slightly tart edge which works wonderfully with the indulgent creamy custard:
Next, the custard is poured over:
What intrigued me with this recipe is that whenever I have seen cinnamon used in apple recipes, it is always added to the apple part of the dish. Here, the cinnamon infuses the custard and makes an interesting alternative to the usual vanilla custard. When I make this dish again I think I would add more cinnamon as I don't think the taste really stood up to the other flavours of the dish. It was the first opportunity I've had to use my Bahamian cinnamon sticks:
It's particularly appealing the way the custard mixes with the stewed apples and turns them a pinkish colour.
For the sweet rich shortcrust pastry:
173g plain flour
120og unsalted butter
3 tablespoons icing sugar
1 ½ egg yolks
(if you're wondering why some of the quantities look odd, it's because this is 1.5 times the basic recipe)
For the apple:
750g Bramley apples, peeled, cored and chopped (I needed 5 apples)
65g golden caster sugar
For the custard:
400ml double cream
60g golden caster sugar
2 cinnamon sticks (or one large one) – I recommend adding more cinnamon
3 large egg yolks
1 egg (yolk and white)
For the cream:
142ml double cream
Vanilla extract, to taste
How to make:
- To make the pastry either put all the ingredients, except for the egg yolk, in a food processor and blend. Then add the egg yolk and bring together to a dough. Or, rub the butter into the flour until it resembles bread crumbs. Then stir in the icing sugar before adding the egg yolk and bringing to a dough.
- Make the pastry into a flattened disk and wrap in clingfilm, refrigerating for 30 minutes.
- Grease a 23cm round, 4cm deep loose bottomed flan tin.
- Roll the pastry out between two sheets of greaseproof paper and then line the tin with the pastry. Don't worry if it tears, use any excess to patch it up – it is very good natured.
- Chill the pastry for an hour in the fridge (this will help to limit shrinkage on baking)
- Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan oven 160°C/350°F/Gas mark 4.
- Line the pastry case with either greaseproof paper or non-stick foil and fill it with baking beans, dried pulses – whatever you have.
- Bake for 20-25 minutes until the pastry is cooked, but still pale. You don't want to overcook it at this stage as it has a lot of baking ahead of it!
- Remove the paper and beans and leave to cool.
- Now cook the apples. Place the chunks of peeled and cored Bramleys into a saucepan and add 2 tablespoons of water. Cook over a gentle heat until slightly softened and then add the sugar. I found the apples broke down to a pulp better with the saucepan lid on, but keep checking it as you may need to add a little extra water if the apples look dry. I needed to add a further 3 tablespoons.
- When the apples have collapsed (this will take 10-15 minutes) remove the pan from the heat and stir to ensure that no lumps remain. Leave to cool.
- Now make the custard. Put the cream in a saucepan and add the sugar and cinnamon sticks. Over a gentle heat, bring to the boil.
- Remove from the heat and fish out the cinnamon sticks. Leave the cream to cool for a few minutes before beating in the egg and yolks.
- Reduce the oven temperature to 170°C/fan oven 150°C/325°F/Gas mark 3
- Place the pastry case (still in the flan tin) on a baking sheet.
- Spoon the apple puree over the pastry base. At this point, put the baking sheet with the flan on it, onto the oven shelf as it will be too nerve-wracking and difficult to move the flan when you have poured the custard on!
- Pour the custard gently and slowly on to the flan. I poured it through a sieve to ensure that there were no lumps in the custard.
- Ease the oven shelf back into the oven, and bake for approximately 2 hours or until the custard is set (mine took 1 hour 45 mins). Don't worry if, when you take the tart from the oven you notice a dark brown skin on top – I think this happens purely because of the slow baking. I tasted a bit and it was rather nice, however, it's not that pretty so – on taking the tart from the oven – I peeled it off with a palette knife. It comes off very cleanly if done straight away and reveals the beautiful set yellow custard underneath.
- Allow to cool. You can either add the piped cream (simply whip the cream with a dash of vanilla) decoration at this point or just before serving. Either way, once cool, the tart must be kept refrigerated; it can be made a day in advance of serving.
- Bask in glory at the wonderful thing you have made.
- Eat.


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Strange as it may seem, Saturday will mark the first year PSS — Post Space Shuttle. On July 21, 2011, the space shuttle Atlantis touched down at Kennedy Space Center at the conclusion of STS-135, the 135th and final mission of NASA's space shuttle program.
A number of historical lasts occurred within STS-135, which is to be expected when you retire what is arguably the most recognizable and indisputably the longest running spaceflight program ever put forth by humankind. Setting aside the fact that Atlantis flew with the smallest crew since the maiden voyage of Challenger, STS-135 saw:
- The final docking of a space shuttle with the International Space Station (ISS);
- The last spacewalk involving a space shuttle (though no shuttle crew performed the extravehicular activity);
- The final downmass payload for the foreseeable future, as no other operational or planned spacecraft will have the shuttle's ability to return major cargo from orbit (Atlantis brought back largely broken components from the ISS so analysts could determine the cause of the system failures).
Lost in the technical finalities were a number of sentimental end-chapters for the space program, not least of which was the wake-up song tradition. Since the days of the Gemini program, NASA has used musical pieces as the wake alarms for spacecraft crew, and every shuttle mission has a specific lineup of songs used to signify the start of the astronauts' working day. While the tradition will continue in a certain fashion aboard the ISS, and will likely be adopted on whatever manned spacecraft succeeds the shuttle, never again will there be a musical wake-up call aboard a space shuttle.
WHAT WAS THE LAST ASTRONAUT WAKE-UP SONG PLAYED ABOARD A SPACE SHUTTLE?Get the answer.
Full Bio
Jay Garmon has a vast and terrifying knowledge of all things obscure, obtuse, and irrelevant. One day, he hopes to write science fiction, but for now he'll settle for something stranger — amusing and abusing IT pros. Read his full profile. You can also follow him on his personal blog.


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Saturday, April 23, 2011
Blasphemy, part II
Probably my most vivid memory of the last 20 years of being a bike builder was the time in the mid '90's when big companies, at least by bike industry standards began buying up smaller 'cult' brands like Salsa, Bontrager , Klein and a few others. I was way too small of a player to be on the radar of these larger brands hoping to cash in on the reputation of the names they were paying for. From what I understand, the big companies would offer to buy the operation of a small brand with the understanding that things would proceed as usual and the original intent, employees and methods of the newly acquired brand .
As it turned out, the big companies found out just how un-profitable the small companies were and wound up gutting the small operations , laying off the workforce and turning the once 'made in the USA' brands into trademarks for imported goods with very little of the original character that was the reason for the 'cult' following in the first place. Salsa frames are now made in Taiwan and Bontrager frames are, well....not made at all any more anywhere. The image I remember the best was being summoned to Bontrager by a former employee to harvest the stuff that was no doubt going to the metal yard or worse, the landfill. I saw boxes and boxes of sub-assemblies and proprietory frame hardware that represented hundereds of man-hours and tons of steel being discarded. I took what would fit in my car and told some other folks about the big pile of metal so that they could maybe do something more constructive with it than putting in into a hole in the ground.
This brings me to the current state of affairs. Now that our 'Golden age' of bike shows, artisan frame builders and online ogle-ment is in full flight , how are we to avoid what happened to the cult builders of the '80's and '90's ? What is there to stop the whole artificially inflated market for bike frames with amazing detail from becoming a bunch of unfinished projects being unloaded on craigslist or worse, the dump? What will happen with all of those water-jet cut proprietory dropouts with ( insert name here ) on them when the brand is dead and the builder is working a new job with an actual living wage ?
Here we have a problem, Houston. We have a disconnect between the guys setting the artistic standards and the other guys who actually build fulltime, offering simpler frames for a more affordable price while making sure that the bills are all still paid. The artisan folks, at least a few of them-certainly not all-have a dismissive attitude toward the working stiff builder. Even if the artisan completely respects his full-time brethren , his fans by and large do not. The same is true on the other side-the full-time guys can get quite sarcastic about certain artisan builders who might cultivate a 'Concours d'elegance' image of thier product , while not having to make a living because money miraculously appears from other un-named sources. But here's the biggest disconnect: The fans of the artisan builders would most likely never buy a frame from a full-timer because it would be a 'boring bike'. This is strictly subjective and I fully understand where they are coming from as consumers, enthusiasts or whatever. What is truly bogus is when they go all high and mighty about how frames should be rolling art and stop at that-they make their stand aesthetically but don't buy the very frames they are championing. Maybe it is the high price, maybe they secretly have some carbon 14 lb. bike at home that they ride on Sundays when nobody is looking. These folks, while lining the aisles of the handbuilt shows snapping hundereds of photos in reality have no intention of supporting the very folks they come to see , full time, artisan or whatever.
I named this blog "Can't we just get along" for the reasons I have stated in most of these posts over the last couple of years. While I remain angry ( As I should if I want to have any good inspiration for writing ) I am also hopeful that things in the next decade or so pan out for builders and enthusiasts alike. The lot of a frame builder has always been a path of self indulgence to a degree and is one of little hope for a real living , but I remain stupidly inexplicably hopeful that we eventually can all get along, have our bikes not only be appreciated but viable as a product made by hand, made here and supported by people that appreciate what we do. To have this happen we must all provide good customer service and champion truth in what we do above all other considerations. This is how we will deserve sustainability and support from the people. -Burma Shave.
6 comments:
This comment has been removed by the author.ReplyDelete
>>> "The artisan folks, at least a few of them - certainly not all-have a dismissive attitude toward the working stiff builder."ReplyDelete
i'm still asking atmo - how DOES this manifest itself? has someone said something/done something/intimated something? it's one thing to give energy to what they (whoever "THEY" are...) by calling this out here, but i wanna know what you actually experienced that became the catalyst for this entry. and PS what's the difference what they make(regardless of whether it sustains them or not) since that's not your calling or business model anyway? your markets don't even overlap. heck - they might not even be aware the other one exists. what's the rub?
>>> "This brings me to the current state of affairs. Now that our 'Golden age' of bike shows, artisan frame builders and online ogle-ment is in full flight , how are we to avoid what happened to the cult builders of the '80's and '90's ?"
how? atmo -
i think we all do get along - at least to the extent that framebuilders, by their very nature, are independent types and ended up at the bench because they grew tired of convention and/or wanted to embrace an outlier lifestyle. the very notion that we're at odds with each other, or on one side of a fence or the other, makes good copy, but it would resonate more if folks knew what set this off. eh i dunno - this all seems so on the heels of the show you attended, and i am curious. fill in some blanks, huh.
ps happy pesach atmo...
I guess this is on the heels of all the shows I have attended, all the forums I am no longer participating in and all the emails and comments I have read from a whole mess of folks that need not have their names put in print by me. You, like I straddle the worlds of bikes that are ridden hard but have some style. Your bikes have more of a nod to tradition than mine but they get beat up just as much and ridden at the highest level. The folks that talk down the working stiff are few but they are a pretty big voice in the boutique bike world, at least that is the way it seems to me. Maybe I'm over-reacting.......hey, I have a bunch of great customers and a lively hood doing what I have loved since I was a kid. My complaints and opinions have no more validity that anyone else's , but then there's the life experience.....it has to count for something. PS, good Chavez, or whatever they say. I missed out on the latkes this time....dang, err....oy!ReplyDelete
atmo i don't need to read names or have brands outed; mine are simply questions that would answer your reply to me. few have the legacy and palmares (are they the same thing?) that rock lobster has, yet you sound like someone/something is hitting hard. i don't knew who's "talking down" or how big their voices are - all i wanna know is what is said. heck - paraphrase it; give us the cliff's notes. but at least serve up an anecdote or three. give us a, "well, he said his water-jet dropouts with the stainless steel rococo logos etched in them are better than my welded braze-ons", or some shit like that. i'm here reading and feel you to an extent. i just don't get the attention given to said artisan builders as if they are gate keepers to anything you would covet.ReplyDelete
I'm with Richard on this.ReplyDelete
"what's the difference what they make(regardless of whether it sustains them or not) since that's not your calling or business model anyway? your markets don't even overlap."
Whether there is or is not a verbal assault by the lugged artisan builders upon you is irrelevant. I don't think their voices would be strong enough to hurt your business.
"few have the legacy and palmares (are they the same thing?) that rock lobster has..."
I feel the "lugged renaissance" was started by aging baby boomers pining for the frames of their racing days of yore. Much like the resurgence of vinyl records, this too, shall pass. Then along will come a renaissance of TIG steel frames with demand driven by those who came of age during that era. Then just watch what happens in the industry.
Richards comments above tell me he's more than just a good framebuilder; he's a good businessman as well and exploited opportunities when he's seen openings in the market. There are very successful TIG builders out there and I believe there is market growth available as well, to the person willing to expand their horizons without necessarily expanding their business i.e., hiring more employees.
You do yourself a disservice by abandoning participation on the forums, for it's that constant exposure that'll sway and keep opinions of TIG'd frames as a worthy, viable option over the artisan lugged offerings. Forum participation is a marketing tool, and an important one in today's internet world.
I can also see value in being a member of the Framebuilders' Collective even though they don't offer much other than your name associating with that of other highly esteemed builders. But that in itself has high value because you'll be judged by the company you keep. I know you've poo-poo'd that idea in the past. Perhaps it's time to reconsider.
So maybe the scuttlebutt at the shows diss'd TIG frames. If you lie there and take it then the artisans builders and their hangers-on will win. You need to actively promote and defend your work. You need to use your "legacy and palmares" as Richard calls it, to your advantage.
And I'll repeat what I've said to you before; I don't think you charge enough for your frames ;-)
Peter, you are too kind. I want everybody to win and I really want everybody to get along. I would pretty much have to stop the blog if this came to be but it would be worth it. Maybe I'll address the particulars when I can come up with an inspired way to write it.ReplyDelete


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This website features a range of interactive games, hands-on projects and fun facts about Earth, the Sun, our Solar System and Space.
Materials Cost: Free
In this activity, learners will experiment with ultraviolet light sensitive plastic beads, which are generally white but turn colors when exposed to UV light. Participants are informed about the nature and risks of UV light and are asked to explore... (View More) what types of materials keep the beads, and hence the user, safe from UV light. (View Less)
Materials Cost: $1 - $5 per group of students
This is an activity about magnetism. In this activity, polystyrene spheres and several strong neodymium magnets are used to represent the Sun and Earth and their distinct magnetic fields. Participants construct and use a field detector to predict... (View More) where the magnetic fields are on the Sun and Earth, and use field bits, which is the term used in the lesson plan, made from the closed staples to form loops and trace the invisible magnetic fields of the Sun and Earth. The activity is designed to be used in an informal public outreach setting, for example as a stand-alone station in a family science day event. It can also be modified for use as a simple classroom demonstration. There are background information sheets provided that can be printed to go along with the activity station. This activity requires two polystyrene spheres, 8 neodymium magnets, epoxy adhesive, wire clippers, needle nose pliers, and acrylic paints, along with other easily obtained materials. (View Less)
Learners will make a "star finder" toy and play a game to find a constellation in the night sky.
Materials Cost: 1 cent - $1 per student
Learners will explore the physical characteristics of comets by reaching into a series of boxes and feeling the materials and structures within. They will describe what they observe and speculate on comet characteristics being modeled in each box,... (View More) opening the discussion about the nature of these icy bodies and begin to compare them to other members of our solar system.Note: See Related & Supplemental Resources (right side of this page) for links to assembly instructions and worksheets needed to complete this activity. (View Less)
This is an activity about boundaries. Participants will imagine they have taken a journey from Earth through the Solar System out into the Milky Way Galaxy. Using images on the front of the My Place in Space lithograph, they will write or draw on... (View More) the back of the lithograph to tell their friends about their journey and the real and imaginary boundaries they crossed on their journey. The activity includes connections to science related to the Interstellar Boundary Explorer, or IBEX, spacecraft. This activity complements other IBEX informal education materials. An instructional video explaining how to facilitate this activity is available: http://bit.ly/14IoHVN. (View Less)
Materials Cost: 1 cent - $1 per student
This is a lesson about the states of matter. Learners will participate in a kinesthetic activity to reintroduce them to three states of matter, solid, liquid, and gas and introduce them to a fourth state of matter, plasma, its connection to the Sun,... (View More) and connections to science related to the Interstellar Boundary Explorer, or IBEX, spacecraft. This activity also demonstrates how the addition of energy can transform matter from one state to another and reviews common examples of matter in each state. This activity complements other IBEX informal education materials. An instructional video explaining how to facilitate this activity is available: http://bit.ly/16eHjJh. (View Less)
Materials Cost: 1 cent - $1 per group of students
This online module features an interactive model of the the Milky Way galaxy. Students click on parts of the model to read and learn about the different components of galaxies. Upon completion of this activity, students will be able to locate parts... (View More) of and build the Milky Way, and identify Earth's location within it. Additional information about our galaxy can be found in the Galaxy Gallery and Galaxy Gossip sections of the module. Students can complete this activity independently or in small groups. However, students should complete this activity prior to completing Galaxy Games. Detailed teacher pages, identified as Teaching Tips on the activity's title page, provide science background information, lesson plan ideas, related resources, and alignment with national education standards. This activity is part of the online exploration "Galaxies Galore, Games and More" available on the Amazing Space website. (View Less)
Materials Cost: Free
This is a brief activity about the mathematics of Mars. By playing this matching card game, learners will gain knowledge of Mars mathematical facts and vocabulary. Note: Find the latest information and updates on Mars missions at the NASA Mars... (View More) Exploration website (see Related & Supplemental Resources to the right). (View Less)
Materials Cost: $1 - $5 per group of students