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A woman once told me about a visit she made with her husband to an oncologist, to receive the results of his biopsy. She was perhaps in her late 60s, a grandmother, married for 40-odd years. They were kept waiting for a long time, a tense interlude in which she occupied herself with the question of how she would redesign the waiting room if it had to become their permanent home. She had created domestic spaces for so many years, she said, that such thoughts had become a sort of mental tic, a reflexive action she performed to soothe herself. By the time she had resolved the various problems of insufficient light, wrongly positioned doorways and an institutional style of décor, the wait was over and they were called in for their appointment — where, thankfully, she said, the news was better than expected.
As is often the case when people are honest, these remarks struck me as deeply familiar while at the same time creating in me a strong desire to disown them. Not long before, I was driven to what appeared to be the brink of mental and physical collapse by embarking on the complete remodeling of our London flat, and while it was true that my children and I were now enjoying the benefits of living in a more pleasant environment, I still felt a certain sense of shame at how determinedly I brought these events about. I caused walls to be knocked down and floors to be ripped up and rooms to be gutted; I threw away decades' worth of clutter and keepsakes and old furniture; with what at times seemed like magic and at others sheer violence, I caused the past to be obliterated and put something new, something of my choosing, in its place. At home, everywhere I looked I now seemed to see a hidden part of myself that was publicly exposed: The numberless private decisions I had made, from the colors on the walls to the bathroom taps, were exhibited for all to see. What's more, the very people — my family and friends — for whom this vision was realized threatened by their presence to defile it. I flinched when they sat on the new sofa, and I darted nervous glances at their shoes strolling imperviously over the unmarked floor; every scratch and scrape and stain felt as if it were being inflicted directly to my own flesh. I carped at my two adolescent daughters for leaving their possessions strewn over the furniture and berated them for the evidence they left of themselves in the kitchen. At the time I felt myself to be serving the reality of my domestic life with them — enhancing it, dignifying it — but now it almost seemed as if what I really wanted all along was to erase it.
The "old" flat had been thickly carpeted in a spongy brown wool that caused me not the merest flicker of identification as it underwent the pummelings of daily life; in the cramped kitchen, whose orange-tiled walls and floor gave it something of the dim atmosphere of a butcher's shop, people had happily sat wedged around the table in the murky light on an assortment of chairs and stools of different heights. We had inhabited the old warren of rooms almost with the carefreeness of children, for in a sense those rooms were not ours, not the product of our will or design; yet that same feeling of lawlessness seemed also to create the possibility of getting lost. We were forever searching for one another, calling, wandering from room to room. Sometimes it was hard even to know whether anyone was at home: The thick carpet doggedly absorbed the sounds of life.
We were both more and less ourselves in that undistinguished space, less burdened but less anchored too; freer and yet unreflected, for nothing there gave us back an image of ourselves. When people visited, I felt the need to offer explanations: I would describe what was going to be done to it and what it would look like, as though creating a home out of mere words, and watch their faces brighten as the vision transferred itself from my head to theirs. One day an acquaintance came round, and before I could embark on my tale, he remarked, running his hand fondly over the peeling laminate kitchen counter, on how rare and refreshing it was to be somewhere untransfigured, somewhere of an authentic ugliness that didn't look like a photograph in a magazine or a poor imitation of one. He complimented me on taking this stand against the ubiquity of middle-class tastes; he appeared to view it as an artistic and philosophical position. Don't ever change it, he said with a small smile. I'll be disappointed if you do.
I grew up in a succession of moderately grand houses where the nicest rooms were the ones no one was allowed to use: the drawing room with its dustless ornaments and immaculate cream-colored sofas, the spare room where the mahogany furniture gleamed and the white bedsheets were always crisp and clean, the study with its unread leather-bound volumes, as forbidding as if it were conserving the memory of someone important who once worked there. Those rooms were full of the tension and silence of a museum: Time had stopped there; something above the human had been allowed to take hold. Whom and what were they for? It had seemed ridiculous, but perhaps it was no more ridiculous than the objet d'art standing unused in the museum. In their way these rooms were expressive works, attempts to perfect reality and hold it in an eternal moment. They told me something about the person — my mother — who created them. What they seemed to suggest was that she would never be happier than in the home she made for us, at the times when we weren't there.
We moved house often, and each time it appeared that it was the perfecting of our environment that was causing us to leave it, as though living there had been a process of construction that was now complete. In much the same way as an artist's deepest moments of intimacy with a canvas half-consciously generate the need or desire to rid himself of it, my mother perhaps felt a gathering frenzy as she bequeathed her domestic vision to us, for the sight of us starting to make ourselves comfortable there was surely the proof that the picture was finished. The summons of the unknown generally overrides sentiment; possibly, it feeds off it. To continue creating, a person perhaps has to maintain an essential discomfort in the world. The kitchen, where my mother spent most of her time, was often the smallest and dowdiest room in the houses we lived in; and I, too, have found myself working over the years in cramped bedrooms or at the kitchen table, even when a degree of prosperity would have permitted me to claim the much-vaunted room of my own.
In Italy once, I was given a private tour of a beautiful castle, led by the owner through room after impeccably furnished room, only to glimpse at the end through a half-open door a tiny, cavelike space crammed with all the evidence — a gas stove, a television, a tatty sofa — of daily life: This was clearly where the family spent their time. I have often looked at photographs of writers in their elegant book-lined studies and marveled at what seems to me a mirage of sorts, the near-perfect alignment of seeming with being, the convincing illusion of mental processes on public display, as though writing a book were not the work of someone capable of all the shame and deviousness and coldheartedness in the world.
One of my daughters has a friend whose house she likes to spend time in. It's a cheerful, comfortable house, always full of people and food. There are the right number of parents in residence and enough attention to go around. It's tasteful and cultured in an unfussy kind of way; the bookshelves are laden, the walls crammed with paintings; there's a dog lying contentedly on the threadbare Persian rug. She can eat on the sofa there, as she can no longer do at home. It looks like a place where people create things, with none of the tensions I associate with creativity: the silence, the solitude, the unappeasable need for the world to disappear so that concentration can occur. For a time I am slightly jealous of her attraction to this household, though I understand it perfectly, for it embodies certain principles of living — generosity, tolerance, the recognition of the human as the pre-eminent value — that I myself hold dear while frequently feeling unable to deploy them in my own home. Like the body itself, a home is something both looked at and lived in, a duality that in neither case I have managed to reconcile. I retain the belief that other people's homes are real where mine is a fabrication, just as I imagine others to live inner lives less flawed than my own. And like my daughter, I, too, used to prefer other people's houses, though I am old enough now to know that, given a choice, there is always a degree of design in the way that people live. The man who admired my peeling Formica was crediting me with, or accusing me of, doing something deliberate, and I don't doubt that the apparent artlessness of my daughter's adopted household is, however half-consciously, a result of a carefully considered set of convictions. That those convictions so closely echo my own makes the illusion — if illusion it is — more tantalizing still.
Entering a house, I often feel that I am entering a woman's body, and that everything I do there will be felt more intimately by her than by anyone else. But in that house it is possible to forget entirely — as the passengers on the top deck of a liner can forget the blackened, bellowing engine room below — what is surely nonetheless true: that a home is powered by a woman's will and work, and that a curious form of success could be measured in her ability to suggest the opposite. I can't see any difference, in my daughter's adopted household, between what it is and what it seems to be — the home of a kind, artistic and educated woman — and yet I find myself unable to believe that difference isn't there.
"The house a woman creates is a Utopia," wrote Marguerite Duras. "She can't help it — can't help trying to interest her nearest and dearest not in happiness itself but in the search for it." The domestic, in other words, is ultimately more concerned with seeming than with being: It is a place where personal ideals are externalized or personal failures made visible. These ideals, as well as the forms of failure they create, are ever-changing: The "search for happiness" is a kinetic state, and it follows that the most seductive of all the illusions of homemaking would be the illusion of permanence.
The novelist Iris Murdoch famously lived in unutterable domestic squalor. She was a philosopher and academic as well as a writer, in the male-dominated intellectual world of Oxford, and I don't doubt that her refutation of domestic servitude needed to be louder and more emphatic than most people's. In that same city, I once visited a family house at Christmastime where the woman was so distressed by the constant human encroachments on the spotless environment she maintained that when someone accidentally dislodged a few needles from the tree, we had to sit there with our feet in the air while she vacuumed them up. Such humiliations can easily be attributed to the transformation of domesticity into a modern psychical event: The suburban housewife with her Valium and her compulsive, doomed perfectionism has been the butt of a decades-long cultural joke. Yet there are other imperatives that bedevil the contemporary heirs of traditional female identity, for whom insouciance in the face of the domestic can seem a sort of political requirement, as though by ceasing to care about our homes we could prove our lack of triviality, our busyness, our equality. Some of the most exacting housekeepers I know are, in fact, men, whose sharing of the care of their children has led them down the same well-traveled road as their feminine forebears, for whom the house became an extension of the self and therefore subject to the self's same vulnerability, neuroticism and pride. Yet these men never seem quite so trammeled or devoured by domesticity, nor so possessed by its utopian visions: It may be the last laugh of patriarchy that men are better at being women than women are; but perhaps in relinquishing the role of housewife a woman robs it of its sting, and hands over a neutered identity where a basic willingness and competence are all that's required. She walks around with it in her flesh, that sting, the itchy consciousness of something desisted from, a possibly harmful habit that leaves an emptiness in its place, like giving up smoking and not knowing what to do with your hands.
Another friend of mine runs her house with admirable laxity, governing her large family by a set of principles that have tidiness as a footnote or a distant goal, something it would be nice to achieve one day, like retirement. In the kitchen, you frequently feel a distinct crunching sensation from the debris underfoot; the stairs are virtually impassable with the possessions that have accumulated there, the books and clothes and toys, the violins and satchels and soccer shoes, all precipitously stacked as if in a vertical lost property office; the children's rooms are so neglected they have acquired a kind of wilderness beauty, like untouched landscapes where over time the processes of growth and decay have created their own organic forms. In the kitchen, the children make volcano cakes or create chemical explosions; somewhere in the upper regions of the house, a singing teacher leads the older ones in hollering out show tunes; in the corridors, there is always a multitude of friends and pets and hangers-on milling around. One day a hamster got out of its cage; it was found six months later, living happily with a brood of offspring in a wardrobe. My friend looks at it all with mock despair, then waves it away with her hand. If that's how they want to live, she says, then let them. In this house, the search for happiness appears to be complete; or rather, in the chaotic mountain of jumble it is always somehow at hand, the easiest of all things to find. The foreground is entirely human here: The rooms may have been neglected, but the people haven't been. It is clear to me that by eradicating the tension of the material, my friend has been able to give her children exactly what she wanted to give them — love, authority, the right advice — where for other people these things got mixed up and snagged on one another.
The opposing philosophies of seeming and being, when combined, create a flawed constitution whose rules, if you ever managed to follow them through, ultimately betrayed an alarming lack of logic at their core. How many times had I found myself pursuing bizarre disciplinary arguments in order to uphold domestic laws that possibly I didn't even believe in? I often seemed to see my children looking half-pityingly at me as I railed at them for breaking something or making a mess. Is an object really more important than a person? their eyes seemed to ask. Is tidiness more important than playing? Is there really no difference between an accident — a mistake — and a calculated act of destruction?
Yet for my own mental processes to work, the object-world had to stay still. Objects were capable of exerting an extraordinary mute power: Even Virginia Woolf writes in her diary of buying a new chest of drawers and having to leave her writing room every half-hour to go out and look at it. The photograph of the author in his book-lined study represented for me an unattainable ideal, for I would have to be on both sides of the image, creating the stage set and being its principal actor. The artist in me wanted to disdain the material world, while the woman couldn't: In my fantasy of the orderly writer's room I would have to serve myself, be my own devoted housewife. It would require two identities, two consciousnesses, two sets of minutes and hours. One "I" would have to clear the children's toys from the desk so that the other "I" could work. The image of the freewheeling mother with her disregard for appearances was somehow threatening from two opposing perspectives, for her apparent inferiority was in fact the reverse: She was superior to the suburban housewife in her miserable prison of immaculate surfaces, and she was superior too to me, to the modern divided woman, because her indifference to the domestic represented a form of courage. With her crunchy kitchen floor and her whirlwind-swept rooms, she was claiming the freedom of a man, or a child, or an artist, at the same time as she was asserting the superiority of her mother-love, for in overthrowing the power of objects she was simultaneously removing them as a last line of defense. Anyone could access her; there was no governed terrain to keep a person out.
I notice one day that my daughter is spending less time with her adopted household. When I ask her about it, she admits that her friend started to comment on her frequent presence there. I feel for her: The provisional home, the home that you are never quite entitled to remain in, is something with which I am familiar. At her age, on Sunday evenings, I had to leave the warmth of the house and be driven through the rain to the train station to go back to boarding school. I wanted only to be allowed to stay where I was; all weekend, the feeling of Sunday evening's approach was as cruel and meticulous as the ticking of a time bomb. The school week had the same cruelty in reverse, as I waited for time to pass the other way and allow me to go home again. Part of the restlessness and anxiety I feel at home has, I realize, to do with time: I am forever waiting, as though home is a provisional situation that at some point will end. I am looking for that ending, that resolution, looking for it in domestic work as I look for the end of a novel by writing. At home I hardly ever sit down: The new sofa has nothing to fear from me. For me, home is not a feeling; it's an image, an idea, a goal, perhaps as it was for my mother, except that — as with so many lost or bankrupt identities — it has filtered down to me as an often inchoate set of tics and compulsions. In their rooms, my daughters drop their clothes on the floor, as though to reassure anyone watching that this history ends with them.
If home was my mother's novel, then we were its created characters, essential but unfree. By contrast I am just a cleaner, a cook, a disgruntled odd-job man: My daughters create themselves. I have tried so hard not to rule them from the baleful matriarchal domestic throne — not to make an awful kind of power out of powerlessness — that I sometimes wonder whether I have done something much worse, which is make myself of no importance. I have played down the domestic work I do as if it were something contagious I don't want them to catch. I have suggested to them that motherhood is a mere scaffolding, a temporary arrangement, like the casing that falls away when the rocket lifts itself from the earth and begins its journey to the moon. After dinner I immediately get up to clear the plates away, and they put out their hands to stop me. Can't we just stay like this for a while? they say.
I have made an unlikely friend, the wife of a long-ago boyfriend. They invite me to their flat for supper; it is on the fourth floor, at the top of a long, winding staircase. The views are spectacular from inside, and we eat by the window, around their small modern table. At some point during the evening, they ask me if I remember another table, a table I and her husband apparently bought when for a time we shared the flat together. I left that flat — one of many homes I have left — more or less with the clothes I stood up in, too guilty and ashamed to want to take anything with me. The table, along with other things we bought, remained where it was. It was a vast, dark thing made from an enormous slab of wood with a strange carved surface: The top had in fact been the door to a Chinese monastery, and it was mounted on thick dark legs. We bought this gigantic curio from an antiques shop, presumably with the idea of having large dinner parties around it, and though I can't remember those dinners my recollection of the table is entirely clear. It remained in my ex-boyfriend's possession and had still been there, in the flat where we now sat, when his wife came on the scene.
Young and jealous then, she set about removing every trace of my existence from what was to become her home. Some of it was easily gotten rid of; other things — a sofa, a mahogany chest of drawers, a brass bed whose headboard and footboard weighed a ton — required the assistance of removal men. In my abandonment of these things, she perceived some exercise of freedom that she refused to underwrite: If I was going to go, then the whole material world I had created was going to go, too; I couldn't just act as if I were invisible and then leave other people to deal with the concrete facts. The table was the biggest and weightiest of these facts: It was 10 or more feet long by four across, and several inches thick; she didn't know how it had ever come up four flights of stairs in the first place. She took a photograph of it and advertised it for sale in the local paper, and before long a young woman phoned wanting to buy it. My friend was at pains to tell her she would need to bring people to help collect it, but the young woman blithely assured her that her boyfriend would probably be around. My friend repeated her injunction that it was a job for several men. It'll be fine, said the young woman, stop worrying.
The evening of the collection arrived. My friend's husband, my ex-boyfriend, had gone away for a week for work, so my friend was alone; it was midwinter and unusually cold. Soon after dark it started to snow, and by the time the young woman rang the bell there was a full-blown blizzard outside. When my friend opened the door and saw the woman standing there unaccompanied — her boyfriend was busy, apparently — she began to despair. The woman — girl, really — was physically tiny, not to mention inappropriately dressed for the task of extracting this colossal incubus, this 10-ton Minotaur, from the fourth floor. Two men happened to be passing on the snowy pavement, and in desperation my friend asked whether they would mind lending a hand; meanwhile the girl had taken out her mobile phone and was tapping at the screen with varnished fingernails, a process that resulted in a further man arriving shortly afterward. The team ascended the winding staircase to the flat. The three men could barely lift the tabletop: It was obvious everyone would have to help. My friend rolled up her sleeves, preparing to assist at this great expulsion, like a midwife at a birth. They managed to get it out onto the landing, but it was too large to fit around the corner of the stairs. For an hour or so they maneuvered it this way and that, but it wouldn't go. Panting, the men began to shake their heads, saying it wasn't going to work. They were ready, it was clear, to give up. But how had the table got there in the first place, if it couldn't come out again? This idea, that I had left behind me something that had grown and impacted itself, something that could never be removed, an inoperable tumor in the heart of her home — inexplicable though it was — galvanized my friend into a state of near-frenzy. Through sheer force of will she held the men to the task. Someone suggested that rather than trying to go round the corners, they lower the table straight down through the gap between the banisters. The drop was some 50 feet; the group formed a sort of human chain, half remaining above to lower the table and half standing below at each level to receive it. At one point the gap between the banisters widened and it was hard for the group below to get a firm hold; my friend, looking down at the scene as though from a great distance, dimly realized that if they lost hold of the table it was entirely possible someone would be killed. The men were panting and sweating; the tiny girl stood helplessly by, saying, 'Oh, my God,' repeatedly. But my friend did not desist; this battle, the battle to drive me out of her territory, was one she was determined to win. With a last excruciating effort the table was lowered to ground level. Breathless and drenched in sweat, my friend walked slowly to the front door and opened it on to the dark, snowy night. The men carried the table out into the white world, and the girl followed them, while my friend remained in the doorway. They were chatting now like old friends; she heard them agreeing to go and have a drink at the pub once they'd put the table in the van. My friend stayed where she was, watching them as they slowly processed away with their dark burden down the pavement through the snow, the sound of their talk and laughter fading while their image remained; an image that reminded her strangely of a funeral procession, the coffin being borne away, the weight of our material evidence being carried out of this life, on the strong shoulders of the pallbearers.
I go to the Lake District for a few days on a walking holiday. In the sunshine on the top of Scafell Pike, my phone rings. It's my sister: She has called to tell me that one of my daughters has had a party at the flat in my absence. More than a hundred people turned up; the disturbance was such that the police were called. I ask if there's been much damage, and there's a long silence before I get a reply.
When I call my daughter, my hands shaking in anger so that I can barely hold my phone, I find myself repeating the same phrases over and over. It's a farce, I keep saying. It's all just a farce. Later I realize that what I was trying to express was the pain of discovering that my narrative of home had been — or so it felt — mocked and rejected. But it does not escape me that the reverse might just as easily be true. To use something, even wrongly, does not have to imply contempt; it might in fact imply belief, belief in the reality of this fabrication, home.
When I get back, I open the door expecting to be hit by the smell of stale alcohol and smoke, but in fact what I smell are flowers. It is a sunny day, and the whole flat is filled with them, roses and irises and hyacinths and daffodils spilling out of every vase and jug that could be found in the cupboards. My daughter has cleaned up; the flowers are her apology. On the journey back, I brooded on the probability that I would never feel quite the same about the home I had created, for while I knew a hundred teenagers had conducted a bacchanal there, the fact that I didn't witness it seemed to create an unbreachable dissociation, a feeling of separation that I was surprised to discover caused me a degree of relief.
I put my bag on the counter and smell the flowers, one after another. I walk from room to room, looking around me like a visitor.


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Posts Tagged 'Bun Bo Hue'
Chinese New Year Parade SF
Posted February 18, 2009on:
- In: Fried Chicken | Krispy | Kute
- Leave a Comment
Hello Hello Friends! Its me Thuy. Chinese New Year rivaled the Great Grunion Run of '89. I even met Mayor Gavin Newsome! I even got so hungry I ate 4 dollar Vietnamese food after at Tu-Lan. What a Greasy Delight! I ordered Bun Bo Hue. Too Spicey!!!
Tags: Bun Bo Hue, Chinese New Year, Gavin Newsome, parade, Tu-Lan

subset: commoncrawl


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Sometimes the very best recipes are simple classic ones . . . we have a lot of zucchini recipes on our site, but this is probably the one that I love the most. My kids love this bread and it freezes well, so you could definitely double it if you have a lot of zucchini and want to freeze some loaves.
I have made this recipe many times and it turns out moist and delicious without fail!
Classic Zucchini Bread
- 3 cups flour
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 3 teaspoons cinnamon
- 3 eggs
- 1 cup vegetable oil
- 1 1/4 cup white sugar
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 3 teaspoons vanilla
- 2-3 cups shredded zucchini
- Spray two 8 x 4 inch pans with non-stick cooking spray and preheat oven to 325 degrees.
- Mix together flour, salt, baking powder, soda, and cinnamon in a bowl.
- Beat eggs, oil, vanilla, white sugar and brown sugar together in a large bowl. Add dry ingredients to the wet mixture and beat well. Stir in zucchini until well combined.
- Pour batter into prepared pans.
- Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pan for 20 minutes. Remove bread from pan and let cool completely.
- Makes 2 loaves.
Six Sisters Stuff


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Chelsea clinched their sixth league trophy in a highly impressive 2016/2017 season under Antonio Conte and it is more than obvious that the Italian tactician was the key to the team's success, writes FootballPredictions.com
Chelsea experienced all sorts of problems in the 2015/2016 Premier League campaign under Jose Mourinho and many football experts believe that the players were boycotting the "Special One". The Blues finished the season in tenth place in the standings and, as a result, the club's chief decided to sack their former title winner boss to bring Juventus boss Antonio Conte to Stamford Bridge. Chelsea made immediate progress week by week under the Italian manager, but following back-to-back defeats to the likes of Liverpool and Arsenal, Conte was forced into making some changes to the team.
He switched to the 3-4-3 formation and the Blues quickly returned to winning ways, with the team recording 13 consecutive league victories. While Chelsea suffered a 2-0 loss to Tottenham in the local derby at White Hart Lane, they quickly bounced back and got the job done on Matchday 37, when by recording a hard-fought victory over WBA at the Hawthorns. Summer signing Michy Batshuayi scored the winner ten minutes before the final whistle and the former Olympique Marseille man helped Chelsea secure their fifth Premier League.
What a season! #ChelseaChampions pic.twitter.com/5JEWUMshs0
— Chelsea FC (@ChelseaFC) May 23, 2017
Eden Hazard was struggling to find his best form during the 2015/2016 Premier League campaign and he was accused of faking injuries during Jose Mourinho's spell at Stamford Bridge. Nonetheless, the Belgium superstar impressed in the 2016/2017 season, with the former Lille footballer scoring 16 goals, while providing five assists for his teammates. Diego Costa was on top of his game as well and the Spain international netted 20 goals in 35 appearances for the Stamford Bridge outfit in the league. N'Golo Kante was named the Premier League's player of the season and the former Leicester City defensive midfielder totally deserved to win the award. He gave 100% in every single match he played for the Blues and, no doubt, he will play an important role in Antonio Conte's team in seasons to come.
Chelsea's season is not over yet; the Blues take on their bitter local rivals Arsenal at Wembley Stadium in the FA Cup final and they are eager to give fans yet another reason for celebration. Antonio Conte's troops have already proved their worth in the 2016/2017 season, but they certainly want to put icing on the cake with a victory over Alexis Sanchez and Co.
Over the years Chelsea have established themselves as one of the best clubs in England, but the club chiefs should consider adding more top-class footballers to the squad in the summer transfer window if they are to be competitive in the Champions League next season. Taking everything into account, yet another successful season is behind Roman Abramovich's club.
To find more from FP, visit their Premier League predictions page.
Main image: @ChelseaFC


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Giving the gift of warmth: Girl & her father team up to donate hats to Milwaukee police for distribution
MILWAUKEE (WITI) -- Giving the gift of warmth. Milwaukee police are working to distribute dozens of winter hats -- donated by a south side business owner and his daughter. Those hats will be handed out by officers when they're on patrol.
There are many things officers work to put a cap on. Usually, it's crime.
"Often, when police go out in neighborhoods we are meeting someone in crisis. You never know when you might need somebody`s help out there on the streets. Hats for us, it`s the winter, and hats keep you warm. No different than gloves. The majority of heat is lost through your head. It's the winter. It`s a great tool," Milwaukee Police Officer Alfonso Morales said.
Hundreds of hats have been donated. They'll "ride along" with Milwaukee police officers on patrol, and they'll be handed out to those in need.
This effort began with Jordan Arenzon.
"You can bring a bunch of these and hand them out to so many people," Arenzon said.
Arenzon is going a service project as part of her Bat Mitzvah.
"I am doing a project called Gift of Warmth and I give these hats to police officers so they can give them out in the area. My dad donated them from his company. We have a little bit over a thousand," Arenzon said.
Arenzon's father owns Wisconsin Knitwear. Together, they're hoping to cap off a cold winter.
"I know there's a need here," Arenzon said.
Police have already begun distributing the hats.


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Peter G. Neumann
Peter Gabriel Neumann (born 1932) is a computer-science researcher who worked on the Multics operating system in the 1960s.[2] He edits the RISKS Digest columns for ACM Software Engineering Notes and Communications of the ACM.[3] He founded ACM SIGSOFT and is a Fellow of the ACM, IEEE,[4] and AAAS.[5]
Peter G. Neumann
|1932 (age 87–88)
|Alma mater
|Harvard University
|Known for
|RISKS Digest
Multics operating system
|Scientific career
|Computer science
|SRI International
|Efficient Error-Limiting Codes (1961)
|Doctoral advisor
|Anthony Gervin Oettinger[1]
Early life and educationEdit
From 1950 to 1958, Neumann studied at Harvard University. In 1961, he was granted a Ph.D. after completing a Fulbright scholarship in Germany (1958–1960). While a student at Harvard, he had a two-hour breakfast with Albert Einstein, on 8 November 1952, discussing simplicity in design.[6]
Neumann worked at Bell Labs from 1960 to 1970. He has worked at SRI International in Menlo Park, California since 1971.
Before the RISKS mailing list, Neumann was known for the Provably Secure Operating System (PSOS).[7]
Neumann worked with Dorothy E. Denning in the 1980s to develop a computer intrusion detection system known as IDES that was a model for later computer security software.[citation needed][8][9]
Memberships and awardsEdit
Neumann has long served as moderator of RISKS Digest and is a member of the ACCURATE project.[citation needed]
Neumann is the founding editor of ACM Software Engineering Notes (SEN), and is a Fellow of the ACM.[10]
Selected publicationsEdit
- Neumann, Peter G., Computer-Related Risks, Addison-Wesley/ACM Press, ISBN 0-201-55805-X, 1995.
- ^ Peter G. Neumann at the Mathematics Genealogy Project
- ^ R. C. Daley and P. G. Neumann (1965). "A General-Purpose File System For Secondary Storage". 1965 Fall Joint Computer Conference. Archived from the original on 2013-01-02.
- ^ "Archived copy". Archived from the original on 2018-01-01. Retrieved 2012-07-23.CS1 maint: archived copy as title (link)
- ^ "Archived copy". Archived from the original on 2012-09-26. Retrieved 2012-01-03.CS1 maint: archived copy as title (link)
- ^ "Archived copy". Archived from the original on 2014-01-15. Retrieved 2011-05-21.CS1 maint: archived copy as title (link)
- ^ Markoff, John (2012-10-30). "Killing the Computer to Save It". The New York Times. New York Times. p. D1.
- ^ Feiertag, Richard J.; Neumann, Peter G. (1979). "The foundations of a provably secure operating system (PSOS)" (PDF). SRI International, Menlo Park, California: AFIPS Press. pp. 329–334. Retrieved 8 April 2020.
- ^ Denning, Dorothy; Neumann, Peter (1985). "Requirements and model for ides: a real-time intrusion detection system". Retrieved 3 July 2020. Cite journal requires
- ^ Denning, Dorothy (February 1987). "An Intrusion-Detection Model" (PDF). IEEE Transactions on Software Engineering. SE-13. Retrieved 3 July 2020.
- ^ Association for Computing Machinery. "ACM: Fellows Award / Peter G Neumann". Association for Computing Machinery. Archived from the original on 4 October 2006.
External linksEdit
- Home page
- Short biography
- RISKS Forum archive
- Peter G. Neumann oral history, Charles Babbage Institute, University of Minnesota
- John Markoff (2012-10-30). "Killing the Computer to Save It (profile of Neumann)". The New York Times. Archived from the original on 2012-11-09.
|This biographical article relating to a computer specialist in the United States is a stub. You can help Wikipedia by expanding it.


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Meet Patrick
Patrick Frost is a Master instructor with Barry's Bootcamp and Nike.
He is AAPT/NASM/ Rehab Habilitations/TRX/ KETTLE BELL level 1 certified. The Georgia native has spent the past 8 years in NYC and has recently relocated to Miami Beach. You can check out his classes at Barry's here and follow him on Instagram here for any and all fitness updates!
What does "only what you need" mean to you?
It means you can travel all over the world and during those brief stints away from the gym, as long as you have just one item
...you are always ready to make any space your gym.
What is "only what you need" for a quick and easy workout?
For this workout you'll need a jump rope and a towel! If you have access to a mat grab one as well.
Describe a full workout routine you can do with just a jump rope?
This is more of a HIIT and jump rope lower body and ab workout.
warm up
Cat cows 60 seconds
Down dog to up dog 60 seconds
High plank to step out to T-spine rotation (alt) 60 seconds
On your back pressing your lumbar spine into the floor drive you right hand and left knee together creating contralateral tension. (Opposite foot is on the floor) push as hard as you can and maintain effort for 20 seconds then switch to the opposite side for 20 seconds. Follow with a hollow body hold for 20 seconds and repeat 2-3x.
Standing up again, you'll start by simply folding your jump rope in half and laying it down by your feet. You'll start to laterally bound over the rope for 45 seconds for speed using both feet then rest for 20 seconds. Repeat the lateral bounds adding in a rotation (you jump both feet over the rope to the right and rotate the toes to the right as well and vice versa to the left) for speed 45 seconds then rest again for 20 seconds. You'll do the same movements single leg style with the right leg then left, 30 seconds each for both the lateral bounds and the rotational lateral bounds with 15 seconds of rest between. Remember you are working for speed!
After you have initiated some ankle stability you are ready to rock.
Continue with 2 mins of a comfortable jump, basic jump rope. (For set 2, add some alternating fee. Set 3, add in some lateral jumps and rotational jumps)
Then fold the rope in half again and align it to the back part of your head, mid back and tailbone and proceed to hinge (these are called good mornings) using one hand to keep band against head and the other hand against tailbone. 20 reps.
Using the folded jump rope, pull the rope in front of the body with both arms shoulder height and proceed to back lunge with your right leg staying still and rotate over your right thigh as you step back with the left leg. 20 reps..
Do the same on the opposite side, doing 3 sets total of the above!
which OWYN product/flavor is your favorite?
The coffee one is my favorite for sure. I love the taste of them all but I love the extra caffeine kick.
- 30 second double unders if you can or simply
- speed jumps
- 30 second break
- 30 second long jumps (jump forward explosively, turn around and repeat)
- 30 second break
- 30 second jump lunges
- 30 second break
- 30 second jump rope high knees
- Repeat 3x
ab finisher
- Lay on your mat or towel & bring the folded rope with you
- 30 second Hollow body hold with tension in the band trying to pull it apart (over hips beginners, and overhead advanced)
- 45 second tuck up placing the band under legs
- and extended to tuck up and placing band over legs and extending
- 45 second rotational twist
- 60 second elbow plank
- Repeat 3x
That's it! You can make your own variation of the above, focusing on just abs or just the power circuit. There's so much you can do with just one piece of equipment.
What's one thing you don't really need that you'd hate to live without?
My blender. I love making shakes or quick meals. It would make my life so much harder to not have that tool in the morning!


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This week I read Donald Fagen's Eminent Hipsters, which Mel gave me as a present last weekend. I'd have liked to pace myself while reading it, but instead I tore through it in a couple of evening and morning train journeys to work. It's not a straight memoir, but rather an 'art-o-biography' (Fagen's term): a series of short essays on figures (musicians, authors and DJs) who influenced him when he was growing up, then a diary of his 2010 tour with the Dukes of September Rhythm Revue (him, Boz Scaggs and Michael McDonald), where he reveals himself to be the grouchy old geezer I suspect he's been since at least the mid-seventies. After all, Steely Dan stopped touring halfway through that decade in order to dedicate themselves fully to writing and recording. Donald Fagen was not built to be a road warrior.
As so often happens when I read a book about a musician, I dive into the records. I haven't had a Steely Dan phase in a while, so it's been a huge pleasure to listen to those albums again. The revelation for me has been The Royal Scam: with its opening run of Kid Charlemagne, The Caves of Altamira and Don't Take Me Alive, as well as Sign in Stranger and Green Earrings, it's probably higher up my personal list of Dan LPs than I'd realised. I've never been able to decide whether I like Aja or Gaucho the most (it depends which one's playing at the time you ask me), but if you're a fan of the Dan's most cooking rhythm section, Chuck Rainey on bass and the peerless and utterly bonkers Bernard Purdie on drums, The Royal Scam is the Dan record for you. They appear on almost every track and are in the sort of form that can sometimes make lesser guys like me feel like giving up.
These two also appear on what may be my very favourite Steely Dan track of all – Home at Last from the 1977 album Aja, which is the first record of theirs I bought and is probably the group's most widely loved album. It's run close by Pretzel Logic, which tends to be the choice of fans of the band's earlier incarnation, although I see it more as the start of their second phase. The original 5-piece line-up didn't function as a recording unit on Pretzel Logic, with Jim Hodder – an excellent drummer but not excellent enough for Fagen and Walter Becker – credited only with backing vocals. All of which is to say, I guess, that people can hear the same music quite differently, and that there are folks – even Dan fans – who find Aja too clean, considered and fussy.
(I'm kind of puzzled by this. As someone who came to Steely Dan long after their first career, after their first reunion record even, I'd fully absorbed all the handed-down tales of the group's perfectionism long before I heard a note of their music – the idea that anyone would pine for Steely Dan's Garage Days seems patently ridiculous to me. Rick Marotta: "They were the most demanding of anybody I've ever worked with. Donald was like the Prince of Doom. I'd walk in the control room and it would sound unbelievably great, and he'd just sit there, looking at the floor, saying, 'Yeah, I guess it's OK'.")
So Home at Last, then. This is a song I wanted to hear before I bought the album, thanks to Ian MacDonald in his 'Decadent Diversions' essay recounting the story of Fagen spending four whole days punching in the words 'Well, the', from the chorus (as in, 'Well, the danger on the rocks is surely past'). I wish it were true, but it sounds apocryphal to me. There were harmonies to record, too, so I can just about imagine someone spending a day, or maybe two, on that job, which would still be an absolutely ludicrous amount of time. But four whole days? Sorry. I know the seventies were a different time, but I'm not buying that.
I don't know what I'd imagined the song would sound like, but it became clear pretty quickly that it's an odd confection. A Chicago blues shuffle, with a hint of reggae in the horns and bass, jazz voicings in the piano (played by Victor Feldman) and lyrics that borrowed their central metaphor from the Sirens episode in The Odyssey. The track is most famous among musicians for its employment of a Purdie Shuffle, Bernard's idiosyncratic take on the standard half-time shuffle, featuring a complex, ever-shifting array of ghost notes on hi-hat and snare (8ths, 16ths, dotteds, triplets – crazy shit).
It's an undeniable groove, a gorgeous song with fantastic performances, an amazing arrangement, and solos on synth and guitar from Fagen and Becker, respectively: the duo seldom played the solos on their own records, handing over duties to session players of the calibre of Paul Griffin, Larry Carlton, Jay Graydon and Elliott Randall, so it's kinda sweet that my favourite Dan track has actual Fagen and Becker solos on it, something I didn't realise until recently. Perhaps I thought the guitar was Denny Dias – it sounds quite like him tonally. The whole track, solos and all, swings outrageously. Everyone should hear Aja (or another Dan album if you prefer) at least once. You might love it, you might be left cold, but Home at Last in particular may surprise you.
Steely Dan: Walter Becker and Donald Fagen. Can we get Jeff Goldblum to play Fagen in a biopic now please? © Chris Walter


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Recently, Mr. Liu Zhenya, Chairman of the Global Energy Interconnection Development and Cooperation Organization (GEIDCO), Chairman of China Electricity Council (CEC) and Member of Royal Swedish Academy of Engineering Sciences, visited Chile, Argentina and Brazil and talks with the head of the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC), energy ministers of Chile, Argentina and other countries, leaders of power companies and research institutions for electricity dispatching, transactions and planning studies for in-depth exchanges on the implementation of Global Energy Interconnection (GEI) in South America, energy transition and regional integration, with important consensus being reached.
Chairman Liu met with the ECLAC
In these talks, Liu pointed out that the GEI initiative has won high recognition and received positive response from the international community since it was proposed by the Chinese President Xi Jinping at the United Nations Sustainable Development Summit in September 2015. As a global solution to acute problems for all mankind such as resource shortages, environmental pollution, climate change, and lack of access to electricity, GEI has been incorporated in the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development and the Belt and Road Initiative. With favorable technological, economic and political conditions, all the related parties need to strengthen cooperation and accelerate the development of GEI in South America and other parts of the world so as to realize green, low-carbon and sustainable development.
Chairman Liu held talks with the Argentine Minister of Energy and Mines, Juan José Aranguren
All parties have highly recognized and actively responded to the establishment of GEI for the sustainable development of South America and other parts of the world. Raul Garcia Buchaca, Deputy Executive Secretary of ECLAC stated that the global energy interconnection has provided new ways to use resources better and more efficiently, which is critical to reach the goals of the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development and helpful to promote the infrastructure development, economic development and cooperation and regional integration. ECLAC and GEIDCO have bright prospects for cooperation. ECLAC will fully support the GEI initiative, further fulfill the agreements on cooperation and jointly make contributions to sustainable development of mankind. Susana Jiméne, the Chilean Minister of Minerals and Energy said the replacement of fossil fuels by renewable energy is an inevitable trend. Based on ultra-high-voltage transmission and GEI initiative, global power needs can be met through better layout and allocation of power resources and electricity. Juan José Aranguren, the Minister of Energy and Mines of Argentine said that the Argentine government attaches great importance to clean energy development and climate change issue. GEI present a grand energy vision and blueprint for global energy development in 2050. The ministry is willing to work with GEIDCO to promote the concept of GEI in the international community and accelerate energy transition to create a bright future for mankind. Carlos Garcia Pereira, the General Director of Transener (an Argentine transmission company) thought that GEI is a great undertaking not only for the power industry but also for all mankind; with abundant solar, wind and other energy resources, Argentina hopes to strengthen cooperation with GEIDCO to push forward clean energy development and grid connectivity with the neighboring countries and jointly facilitate the implementation of more cross-border interconnection projects in South America. Jolio Bragulat, the Director of CAMMESA (the Argentine wholesale electric market administrator) said that China is taking the lead in such areas as Ultra high voltage (UHV) tranimission, clean energy development and the operation and control of bulk power grids. He hopes Argentina could introduce advanced technologies and mature experience from China to step up its electric power infrastructure and cross-border power grids interconnection. Reive Barros dos Santos, President of the Brazilian Energy Planning Institute (Empresa de Pesquisa Energetica, EPE) considered the vision of GEI as magnificent and exciting. The institute is willing to intensify research and awareness of GEI, and promote the implementation of related projects. Luiz Eduardo Barata Ferreira, President of National Electricity System Operator of Brazil (Operador Nacional do Sistema Elétrico (ONS)) showed full support for GEI and hoped to be part of this grand initiative, as Brazil is pushing forward with clean energy development and interconnectivity with its neighboring countries. Wilson Ferreira Júnior, CEO of Eletrobras (the Brazilian Electric Power Company) reckoned that clean energy development and power grid interconnection are indispensable for economic and social sustainable development in the future, and Brazil is collaborating with neighboring countries such as Argentina, Bolivia and Guyana for hydropower development and power interconnection. Eletrobras is looking forward to cooperation with GEICO to promote GEI and its project implemetation.
The energy interconnection of South America constitutes an important part of GEI. The building of GEI can be a great accelerator for clean energy development and energy transition in the region, contributing to the sustainable social and economic development. Up to now, GEICO has signed agreements with ECLAC, the Ministry of Mines and Energy of Brazil, the Ministry of Energy of Chile, the Latin American Energy Organization (Olade), and South America Regional Energy Integration Commission (CIER, Comisión de Integración Energética Regional), for cooperation on planning research, power interconnection, renewable energy development and other fields, thus jointly driving the innovative development of GEI.
During the visit, the delegation also visited the Chinese embassies in relevant countries and introduced the efforts of GEI initiative.


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While nowhere near as prevalent as it was in the 1980s (when it seemed as if one couldn't find a clean wall in the city), graffiti has never completely disappeared from New York...or any metro area, for that matter. It seems to have become an acceptable part of urban life and a unique art form to some.
According to an analysis of 311 hotline data by amNewYork, graffiti complaints were up 16% for the 12-month period from November 1, 2013 to October 31, 2014, rising to 15,539 (from 13,366) across the city.
"When you ask people on the street about graffiti, they say 'what graffiti?' " says Ed Talmo of Enviro-Northeast Sales Corporation, a distributor of anti-graffiti products, in Highland Lakes, New Jersey. "It's become an acceptable part of city life," perhaps receding into the background of the urban landscape.
The Oxford Dictionary defines graffiti as "writing or drawing scribbled, scratched, or sprayed illicitly on a wall or other surface in a public place." Most of it is "tagging," a name spray-painted on a wall, often put up in lightning speed. But, according to Nicholas LaSorsa, owner of the Astoria-based Hudson Power Washing, "almost all graffiti in the city is 'tagging,'" which, he says, "is just a term for somebody getting their name up really quick."
While most of the graffiti images in New York are tags (the writer's signature rendered in marker or paint), other forms include the "throw-up" or "fill-in" painted with an outline color and a fill-in color, and the "piece," short for masterpiece, a large, elaborate, colorful mural.


text:
Follow Pop is a brand new program designed to increase your followers and sales on Depop.
Watch this quick YouTube video to see it in action: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U0AOdiaayrk
Set up the auto follow settings and watch your Depop store's followers grow every single day. In no time at all, you'll have thousands of new followers, and with more followers comes more engagement and sales!
Download now free and receive the Follow Pop software and instruction manual. Future updates will include auto like, auto comment and auto DM features. Please read the manual before using the software.
You will receive new versions of Follow Pop as and when they are released, completely free of charge.
Simply open Follow Pop and log in to your Depop account via the simple and clear user interface. Set up your auto follow settings on the 'following' tab and click 'Start Task'. You can follow up to 1 million Depop users per day without having to do any of the button pushing yourself! If you've seen the Depop stores with hundreds of thousands of followers, chances are they're using auto-follow software to get ahead of the game and increase their sales. Get Follow Pop and catch up with the rest! You can also auto unfollow too! Future versions of Follow Pop will allow auto like, auto comment and auto DM features! Future versions will have a new price reflecting the new features. Buy the current version today for just $9.99 and receive the newer versions completely free, as and when they are released! You'll make your $19.99 back in to time at all by using our software to sky-rocket your Depop store to being one of the most followed stores on the app! Everyone knows the secret to more sales is more followers. Start your growth journey today!


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Ritz Cinema
Buckhurst Road,
Buckhurst Road,Bexhill, TN40 1QF
No one has favorited this theater yet
Located in the East Sussex town of Bexhill-on-Sea. In 1910, a skating rink was built on this site. It was demolished and the Union Cinemas chain built the Ritz Cinema, which opened on 18th January 1937. It originally had a large sky sign mounted on the roof. Union Cinemas were taken over by the Associated British Cinemas(ABC) chain in October 1937.
ABC closed the Ritz Cinema on 2nd December 1961, and it was converted into a bingo club, which closed in 1962. The building then stood empty until it was demolished in 1968. A telephone exchange was built on the site.
Contributed by Ken Roe
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Use these teaching resources to introduce students to the Underground Railroad, a covert network of former slaves, free black men and women, Northern abolitionists, and church leaders who helped fugitive slaves escape to freedom.
Lesson Plan
Harriet Tubman's Road to Freedom: Learning Activities About Slavery and Liberty
Classroom activities for honoring the life and courage of Harriet Tubman
3–5, 6–8
The lives of many African Americans throughout history are testament to strength, courage, and resourcefulness. One of the best-known of these figures is Harriet Tubman, who persevered against great odds to improve not only her own life, but the lives of others. After a harrowing escape from slavery, she returned to the South 19 times and helped 300 other slaves escape.
The story of her life, with its elements of drama, adventure, and success, provides a compelling focus of study during Black History Month, as part of your social studies curriculum, or in a language arts unit on biography. However you use it, your students are sure to be inspired by this heroic woman.
Exploring Themes of Slavery and Freedom
The following books are recommended for use with this project:
- Harriet Tubman: They Call Me Moses by Linda D. Meyer (Parenting Press, 1988)
- Harriet Tubman: Guide to Freedom by Sam and Beryl Epstein (Garrard, 1968)
- Go Free or Die: A Story About Harriet Tubman by Jeri Ferris (Carolrhoda, 1988)
Initiate some thought-provoking discussions with these start-up activities:
- Help students understand the evolution of slavery in America. Locate Africa and the United States on the map. Indicate how Africans were taken from their homes and families, and forced to travel by ship to America where they were put to work on plantations. Explain to students that many Americans approved of slavery. There were, however, abolitionists who spoke out courageously against it.
- Create a freedom chart to help students understand why Harriet worked so hard to free herself and others from slavery.
- Divide a poster-size piece of paper into four columns. Label the first column "Freedom" and have students list simple but important freedoms they enjoy. These may include the freedom to be part of a family; the freedom to make friends; the freedom to go to school and learn; the freedom to read books; and the freedom to eat, sleep, and work when they (and their families) want.
- Label the second column "Importance" and have the students tell why each freedom is important to them.
- Label the third column "Slavery" and have students use this space to describe what happened when slaves were deprived of the basic freedoms mentioned in the first two columns (for example, slaves could not leave the plantation, slaves were often sold and separated from their families, etc.).
- In the last column, labeled "Feelings," have the students describe how they would feel if each freedom were taken away from them.
- Freedom involves being able to make basic choices and decisions about life. But it has certain limits; ask children if being free means doing whatever they want, whenever they want. Refer back to the Freedom Chart to brainstorm a list of ways in which some of their freedoms are curtailed (having to go to bed at a certain time, not being able to eat everything they want, etc.). Have them make another list of ways in which even adults' freedom may be limited. Help them draw conclusions about the reasons for these limitations.
Certain Unalienable Rights...
One of America's most important documents is the Declaration of Independence, written nearly 50 years before Harriet Tubman was born. It states, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and pursuit of Happiness..."
Help students interpret the meaning of these words. Then, have them read the passage again and decide which four words most symbolize Harriet's ideals.
Free at Last
On December 18, 1865, slavery was officially outlawed in the United States. Harriet Tubman was about 45 years old at the time. Have each child write a diary entry for that day from Harriet's point of view. It might be helpful for them to focus on the following questions.
- How might she have felt when she heard the news? Why?
- What hopes might she have had for the future of freed slaves?
The Story of Her Life
As a class, brainstorm some of the most important events in Harriet's life, starting with her birth in about 1820. On plain paper, make a series of 3-by-4 inch boxes and write or type one event in each box so they are out of sequence. Leave enough room in each box for the student's illustrations. Photocopy the boxes so that each child gets a complete set of events.
Have students cut apart their boxes and put them in order. After checking for the correct sequence, have children draw illustrations in each box and design a cover. Staple the pages together and let students bring home the books to share with their families.
Adapted from the book Literature-Based Seasonal and Holiday Activities by Mary Beth Spann (Scholastic, 1991).


text:
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Budget $30-250 USD
I would like to have a very creative and responsive website. Focusing on finding tutors and studying solutions. The contents and the company profile will be given for assistance.
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text: I love treasuries on Etsy, but being featured in one is even better! My clip art and digital papers are in the treasury below, but that is not the only reason to look. The creator of this treasury took a lot of time to look at items all over Etsy to decide what she wanted to fill it with. Thank you to Gin from Broorian Designs for making this Beautiful Boy Treasury!


text:
We understand the importance of protecting the personal information of our Restaurant, Hotel and Banquet Customers (hereinafter referred to as guest(s).
In keeping with that objective, our goal is to treat the personal information the guests provide us with the utmost respect. We have developed this Privacy Policy to outline our guidelines for the collection and use by the employees (hereinafter referred to as the "Old Mill Toronto") of your personal information.
We use your personal information for the following purposes:
PROMOTIONAL INFORMATION: inform guests of packages, promotions, services, entertainment and products.
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Incorporated in 2012, Maths Metals Recycling Limited is one of the largest metal recycling companies in West Africa. We have a very large network of scrap suppliers for a steady supply of raw materials (scrap) from and within West African countries. We source and transform scraps into secondary raw materials such as Aluminum alloy Ingot, Copper alloy Ingot, lead, zinc, brass, etc.
We have advanced equipment, perfect testing method and qualified assurance systems. Our operating purpose is quality, client-lead, responsible price with good service. We are a member of the Nigeria Export Promotion Council (NEPC) and Manufacturers Association of Nigeria (MAN).
Currently, we are looking to export scrap material such as copper scrap (different grade), Radiator scrap, Brass horney, etc. Please contact us, if you are interested.
Send a message to Maths Metals Recycling Ltd


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Jimmy Buffett will carry on with his performances in North Carolina even as other singers' cancelations over a controversial law targeting the LGBT community shutter many music venues.
The popular singer has been outspoken in his disagreement with the newly passed North Carolina Public Facilities Privacy and Security Act, but it won't stop him from performing in the state, at least for now. Mr. Buffett cited loyalty to fans and a belief that many of them likewise disagreed with the law while explaining his choice to continue with the concert.
"I am lucky enough to have found a job in the business of fun. These shows were booked and sold out long before the governor signed that stupid law," the musician said in a statement on his website. "I am not going to let stupidity or bigotry trump fun for my loyal fans this year."
The Public Facilities Privacy and Security Act, informally called the "bathroom bill," restricts access to bathrooms based on the gender indicated by a person's birth certificate. The bill was signed into law last month, but has drawn sharp criticism. LGBT proponents say the law unfairly forces transgender people, even those who have gone through reconstructive surgeries to fully change genders, to use the bathroom of a gender they no longer identify with.
Buffett has multiple venues booked in the state for part of a current music tour. He referred to the law as "another stupid law, based on stupid assumptions," but likened playing in North Carolina to playing in many other states he has had policy disagreements with throughout his career.
"As a traveling musician for 40 years, I played many shows years ago, in many states where you could go to prison for 20 years for smoking a joint. It was a stupid law based on stupid assumptions. Time has fortunately reversed a lot of that way of thinking."
Will there be more North Carolina visits from the singer? Buffett said future visits would depend on whether the law is repealed.
Other musicians have not been as patient. Rock star Bruce Springsteen canceled a weekend concert in the North Carolina after the bathroom bill was passed.
Other states have recently suffered similar musical backlashes. Canadian musician Bryan Adams canceled a performance in Mississippi over a state law that allows some religious groups and businesses to withhold services from homosexual couples if it conflicts with their religious views.
Popular musicians Miley Cyrus, Emmylou Harris, Ty Herndon, and Chely Wright have likewise heavily criticized Tennessee over a proposed bill that would institute bathroom restrictions similar to the North Carolina law, but for public schools and colleges, according to Reuters.
"Some things are more important than a rock show and this fight against prejudice and bigotry – which is happening as I write – is one of them," Mr. Springsteen said in an online statement.
This report includes material from the Associated Press and Reuters.


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Member Since: November 5, 2010
Country: United States
Product DEV-09799 about 10 years ago
Random... has anyone tried to say dead using this shield? every sequence i have tried sounds terrible.
Product ROB-00319 about 10 years ago
is there any specs for the motors? i would like to know the max RPM they can produce
Product ROB-00319 about 10 years ago
I'm surprised that no one mentioned how the instructions are written in Japanese.
No public wish lists :(


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A day after my 28th birthday, I started this blog with a simple idea. Each day I would post a new startup idea. Exactly four years later, here we are. Yesterday I hit the big 3-2, and I've made the decision to relaunch my blog.
As a cursory glance at the archive list to your right will tell you, I totally failed to keep to my daily promise, especially in the past year. But, thanks to a little encouragement from a few friends, I decided to give it another go.
ASAD 2.0 will be similar to the original version, with one important difference. A lot has happened over the past four years, and especially over the past 9 months. Specifically, I made the huge leap from my comfy corporate life to the wild and wonderful world of startups. It's had a huge impact on the way that I think through ideas, evaluate opportunities, and ponder the real-world practicalities of bringing one of these bad boys to life.
I'll be posting a few new startup ideas shortly, but if you'd like to hear more about what I've been up to lately, check out this awesome story that the talented James Gardner of the Seattle Met magazine wrote about me, this blog, and the entire Giant Thinkwell saga. It's been a fun ride and it's insane to think that it all started here with a simple idea on this blog. Stay tuned for some new ideas, and please let me know what you guys have been up to since I've been away in the comments below.


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Ethics of Technology: Prenatal Testing, Abortion & Disability Rights
William Saletan writes on Slate today about pre-birth defects, abortion and the ethics of technology. A new law may bridge all three.
Here's a bit of across the aisle action during this contentious campaign season. William Saletan writes today on Slate ("Pre-Birth Defects – Pre-natal tests, genetics, and abortion") about the increasing availability of prenatal testing and its impact on women's reproductive health decisions, particularly abortion.
The gist of Saletan's article is the concern that as more and more accurate assisted technology in the field of reproductive health is developed, couples are faced with more difficult decision making – decision making that brings more responsibililty. As well, both reproductive health and rights advocates and the anti-choice movement are faced with new information that significantly impacts the discussion on both sides.
As reproductive health technology becomes more able to predict particular health outcomes in babies, pinpointing conditions in utero like Down Syndrome, spina bifida, and anencephaly, and ultrasounds are able to provide a glimpse into conditions as well, pregnant women are faced with an abundance of information that, if not presented with clarity and an understanding of what it all means, may not be helpful.
Inherent in these new developments is still the time-told issue of a woman's personal decision making ability in this society, free from government interference. And reproductive health and rights advocates certainly support a pregnant woman's right to make the decision to terminate her pregnancy based on her own reasoning – not society's and not the government's.
Sex. Abortion. Parenthood. Power.
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However, that argument does little to address the underlying issue – the nexus of both disability rights and reproductive rights in this discussion. There has already been a tremendous step forward in this regard – and one about which very few have taken note.
Governor Palin has used "special needs children" as a cornerstore of her political campaign, claiming that families with special needs children will have an advocate in the White House should she get elected. But it's been more than a little difficult to ascertain what exactly she means by this in concrete policy terms. The reality for so many families in this country is that they simply do not have access to the services – health, support and otherwise – that Governor Palin has been lucky enough to have. To advocate rhetorically for a "culture of life" without acknowledging that most American families simply do not have the means to care for a special needs child without government assistance is more than useless – it's harmful. Pregnant women with or without partners faced with making a decision about whether or not to continue with a pregnancy when the fetus may be afflicted with a condition that will require extensive health care and support services throughout his or her life, must take into consideration their economic and familial reality in this situation.
Which is why a barely reported on Act that was signed into law on October 8th, 2008 has so much significance in this discussion. The Prenatally and Postnatally Diagnosed Conditions Awareness Act, authored by (of all people) Senator Sam Bronwback and originally co-sponsored by Senator Edward Kennedy (with Senator McCain signed on as well), provides pre and post pregnancy support to pregnant women and new mothers whose fetus or newborn is diagnosed with a disability.
The Act mandates the creation of a telephone hotline to support pregnant women and mothers, a registry service for couples looking to adopt newborns with Down Syndrome, the expansion and development of local, regional and national support peer networks for families of children with disabilities and education and awareness programs for health care providers who speak to parents about prenatal genetics testing. Of course, we really need affordable care services once the children are born, we need to make it easier for low and middle income families to find affordable and accessible child care options, we need health care expansion programs. But this act is a step in the right direction.
And, true to the collaborative nature of the act, it addresses the connection between reproductive justice and disability rights:
The disability community has been concerned that pregnant women receive negatively biased information about what it means to have a child with a disability, shaped by negative societal attitudes toward disability. A lack of balanced information may contribute to the high rate of abortion upon a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome.
By providing more comprehensive information and resources, the Prenatally and Postnatally Diagnosed Conditions Awareness Act may effectively expand women's reproductive options. The information and support provided will allow a pregnant woman and her family to determine an outcome that fits within their personal, cultural, religious, and social context. Specifically, more comprehensive material about disability and a physician or genetic counselor will better prepindependent decision that is right for them.
Reproductive health technology brings up new ethical considerations for advocates from the reproductive health community, disability rights community and even anti-choice community but it's an area where we may find some common ground.