C Bomb Quotes

A coworker at SNL dropped an angry c-bomb on me and i had the weirdest reaction. To my surprise, I blurted, "No. You don't get to call me that. My parents love me. I'm not some Adult Child of an Alcoholic that's going to take that shit.

The first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb, when it comes, find us doing sensible and human things -- praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts -- not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs.

People should be left to believe what they like, so long as they harm no one else. Apart from normal expectations of politeness, it is not however clear why people should require their personal beliefs to be treated with special sensitivity by others, to the point that if others fail to tip-toe respectfully around them they will start throwing bombs.

Do you know what you can do in a van like that?” “Kill people,” Marc said. “Kidnap toddlers by luring them in with candy. Make a bomb and plant it downtown. Kinky sex. Lots of kinky sex.

The rash assertion that "God made man in His own image" is ticking like a time bomb at the foundation of many faiths.

If you really want to kill a libriomancer, hook a bomb up to a big red button and tell him not to press it

It was 3:57 AM. An explosion hit me from beneath my bedroom floor like an atomic bomb, jolting me awake. Its concussive wave carried horrible colors, smells and textures, but among them floated a familiar purple. I sat up, shivering with revulsion while the aftershocks flowed over me. As I focused on the warm, sweet purple buried inside the frigid, choking grey, my eyes widened with recognition. Mom!

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. ‘How are we to live in an atomic age?’ I am tempted to reply: Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.’ In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors—anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances… and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty. This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things—praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.

this world is not going to be trampled and smashed by brutal, amoral regimes for ever. A day will come when God will bring to an end the state war-machines, the terrorist bombs, the consummate evil of totalitarian oppression, the gas chambers, death camps, killing fields, and countless other infamous instruments of death. There will be a judgment.

In 1982, a C-130 Hercules transport aircraft belonging to the Pakistani military left Urumqi, capital of the north-western Chinese province of Xinjiang, headed for Islamabad carrying five lead-lined, stainless steel boxes, inside each of which were 10 single-kilogram ingots of highly enriched uranium (HEU), enough for two atomic bombs.43 It

That requires as much power as a small radio transmitter--and rather similar skills to operate. For it's the application of the power, not its amount, that matters. How long do you think Hitler's career as a dictator of Germany would have lasted, if wherever he went a voice was talking quietly in his ear? Or if a steady musical note, loud enough to drown all other sounds and to prevent sleep, filled his brain night and day? Nothing brutal, you appreciate. Yet, in the final analysis, just as irresistible as a tritium bomb.

The generic name for behaviors of this sort is critical mass. Social scientists have adopted the term from nuclear engineering, where it is common currency in connection with atomic bombs.

It had to happen to someone. There is nothing exceptional about you, any more than there is about the first neutron that starts the chain reaction in an atomic bomb. It simply happens to be the first. Any other neutron would have served

Washington, D.C., with its wide streets, confounding roundabouts, marble statues, Doric columns, and domes, is supposed to feel like ancient Rome (that is, if the streets of ancient Rome were lined with homeless black people, bomb-sniffing dogs, tour buses, and cherry blossoms).

mass and energy have an equivalence. They are two forms of the same thing: energy is liberated matter; matter is energy waiting to happen. Since c2 (the speed of light times itself) is a truly enormous number, what the equation is saying is that there is a huge amount—a really huge amount—of energy bound up in every material thing.4 You may not feel outstandingly robust, but if you are an average-sized adult you will contain within your modest frame no less than 7 × 1018 joules of potential energy—enough to explode with the force of thirty very large hydrogen bombs, assuming you knew how to liberate it and really wished to make a point.

Those who say that children must not be frightened may mean two things. They may mean (1) that we must not do anything likely to give the child those haunting, disabling, pathological fears against which ordinary courage is helpless: in fact, phobias. His mind must, if possible, be kept clear of things he can’t bear to think of. Or they may mean (2) that we must try to keep out of his mind the knowledge that he is born into a world of death, violence, wounds, adventure, heroism and cowardice, good and evil. If they mean the first I agree with them: but not if they mean the second. The second would indeed be to give children a false impression and feed them on escapism in the bad sense. There is something ludicrous in the idea of so educating a generation which is born to the…atomic bomb. Since it is so likely that they will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker.

This world is behind enemy lines. Secret powers rule it. But they don’t want to kill us with bombs or knives. They want even worse for us. They want to kill the better part of us, the part that hopes. Illnesses and accidents are weapons in their hands, weapons of despair, meant to turn our thoughts down and down to dark and dismal paths.

how the Khmer Rouge had multiplied and risen to power. It was due to four years of bombing, ordered by Washington, D.C. to destroy the cargo route linking Cambodia to North Vietnam.

In a way the C.I.D. man was pretty lucky, because outside the hospital the war was still going on. Men went mad and were rewarded with medals. All over the world, boys on every side of the bomb line were laying down their lives for what they had been told was their country, and no one seemed to mind, least of all the boys who were laying down their young lives. There was no end in sight.

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. ‘How are we to live in an atomic age?’ I am tempted to reply: ‘Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night…’ In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented…It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty…“If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things- praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends…not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (any microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.

His goal was to be vigilant against " the bozo explosion" that leads to a company's being larded with second rate talent: For most things in life, the range between best and average is 30% or so. The best airplane flight, the best meal, they may be 30% better than your average one. What I saw with Woz was somebody who was fifty times better than the average engineer. He could have meetings in his head. The Mac team was an attempt to build a whole team like that, A players. People said they wouldn't get along, they'd hate working with each other. But I realized that A players like to work with A players, they just didn't like working with C players. At Pixar, it was a whole company of A players. When I got back to Apple, that's what I decided to try to do. You need to have a collaborative hiring process. When we hire someone, even if they're going to be in marketing, I will have them talk to the design folks and the engineers. My role model was J. Robert Oppenheimer. I read about the type of people he sought for the atom bomb project. I wasn't nearly as good as he was, but that's what I aspired to do.

To me our bombing policy appears to be suicidal. Not because it does not do vast damage to our enemy, it does; but because, simultaneously, it does vast damage to our peace aim, unless that aim is mutual economic and social annihilation.

Grief is like a bomber circling round and dropping its bombs each time the circle brings it overhead; physical pain is like the steady barrage on a trench in World War One, hours of it with no let-up for a moment. Thought is never static; pain often is.

The U.S.-led coalition dropped about twelve thousand bombs on Afghanistan that autumn, about 40 percent of them “dumb,” or unguided, according to an analysis by Carl Conetta of the Center for International Policy. Hank Crumpton at the Counterterrorist Center estimated that the campaign killed “at least ten thousand” foreign and Taliban fighters, “perhaps double or triple that number.” By the conservative estimate of Boston University political scientist Neta Crawford, between 1,500 and 2,375 Afghan civilians also died.

Man is bound to follow the exploits of his scientific and inventive mind and to admire himself for his splendid achievements. At the same time, he cannot help admitting that his genius shows an uncanny tendency to invent things that become more and more dangerous, because they represent better and better means for wholesale suicide. In view of the rapidly increasing avalanche of world population, we have already begun to seek ways and means of keeping the rising flood at bay. But nature may anticipate all our attempts by turning against man his own creative mind, and, by releasing the H-bomb or some equally catastrophic device, put an effective stop to overpopulation. In spite of our proud domination of nature we are still her victims as much as ever and have not even learnt to control our own nature, which slowly and inevitably courts disaster.

a real danger by giving it an absurd name, the designations were often facetious: the Godel Gremlin, the Mandelbrot Maze, the Combinatorial Catastrophe, the Transfinite Trap, the Conway Conundrum, the Turing Torpedo, the Lorenz Labyrinth, the Boolean Bomb, the Shannon Snare, the Cantor Cataclysm…

While many nations have a terrible record in modern times of dealing out great suffering face-to-face with their victims, Americans have made it a point to keep at a distance while inflicting some of the greatest horrors of the age: atomic bombs on the people of Japan; carpet-bombing Korea back to the stone age; engulfing the Vietnamese in napalm and pesticides; providing three decades of Latin Americans with the tools and methods of torture, then turning their eyes away, closing their ears to the screams, and denying everything … and now, dropping 177 million pounds of bombs on the people of Iraq in the most concentrated aerial onslaught in the history of the world.

For those united to him, the heart of Jesus is not a rental; it is your new permanent residence. You are not a tenant; you are a child. His heart is not a ticking time bomb; his heart is the green pastures and still waters of endless reassurances of his presence and comfort, whatever our present spiritual accomplishments. It is who he is.

Those who say that children must not be frightened may mean two things. They may mean (1) that we must not do anything likely to give the child those haunting, disabling, pathological fears against which ordinary courage is helpless: in fact, phobias. His mind must, if possible, be kept clear of things he can’t bear to think of. Or they may mean (2) that we must try to keep out of his mind the knowledge that he is born into a world of death, violence, wounds, adventure, heroism and cowardice, good and evil. If they mean the first I agree with them: but not if they mean the second. The second would indeed be to give children a false impression and feed them on escapism in the bad sense. There is something ludicrous in the idea of so educating a generation which is born to the Ogpu and the atomic bomb. Since it is so likely that they will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker. Nor do most of us find that violence and bloodshed, in a story, produce any haunting dread in the minds of children. As far as that goes, I side impenitently with the human race against the modern reformer. Let there be wicked kings and beheadings, battles and dungeons, giants and dragons, and let villains be soundly killed at the end of the book. Nothing will persuade me that this causes an ordinary child any kind or degree of fear beyond what it wants, and needs, to feel. For, of course, it wants to be a little frightened.

they are a little more solid even in the exquisite nakedness of their existence and they glory in their reality and read music and dance poetry on the sidewalks and in the lavatories of bombed out buildings. we take their words and cup them in our hands and we take their lips and crush them to ourselves and dream the dreams and think of sands and faraway places and wish for death and pray they see IT soon.

There is no getting away from it. It is technically possible to carry out the scientific revolution in India, Africa, South-east Asia, Latin America, the Middle East, within fifty years. There is no excuse for western man not to know this. And not to know that this is the one way out through the three menaces which stand in our way — H-bomb war, over-population, the gap between the rich and the poor. This is one of the situations where the worst crime is innocence.

Come,’ said Ransom at last, ‘there’s no good taking it like that. Hang it all, you’d not be much better off if you were on Earth. You remember they’re having a war there. The Germans may be bombing London to bits at this moment!’ Then seeing the creature still crying, he added, ‘Buck up, Weston. It’s only death, all said and done. We should have to die some day, you know. We shan’t lack water, and hunger–without thirst–isn’t too bad. As for drowning–well, a bayonet wound, or cancer, would be worse.

Netanyahu then explained to me why the stakes were so high. The Iranian leaders, he said, “want to concentrate on completing their nuclear program because once they have that, then they could threaten the West in ways that are unimaginable today. They could take over the Persian Gulf on all its sides and take control of the oil reserves of the world. They could topple Saudi Arabia and Jordan in short order and, of course, Iraq. All your internal debates in America on [the future of] Iraq would be irrelevant because nuclear-armed Iran would subordinate Iraq in two seconds. Then they would threaten to create a second Holocaust in Israel and proceed on their idea of building a global empire, producing twenty-five atomic bombs a year—250 bombs in a decade—with missiles that they are already working on [and that they want to develop] to reach the eastern seaboard of the United States. Everything else pales in comparison to this development. This has to be stopped, for the sake of the world, not only for the sake of Israel.

What is grief compared with physical pain? Whatever fools may say, the body can suffer twenty times more than the mind. The mind has always some power of evasion. At worst, the unbearable thought only comes back and back, but the physical pain can be absolutely continuous. Grief is like a bomber circling round and dropping its bombs each time the circle brings it overhead; physical pain is like the steady barrage on a trench in World War One, hours of it with no let-up for a moment. Thought is never static; pain often is.

Eventually there comes a beefy knock on the door. “Dudes! I have vitamin C!” Wes actually opens the door to Blake, damn him. And the room is now filled with Blake-chatter. Vitamin C is coffee, though, and the scent of it begins to stir me into consciousness. “Aw, who’s a sleepyhead?” Blake crows, flopping onto Wes’s empty side of the bed. “Caffeine, J-Bomb! I brought you a cappuccino.” “You make it difficult to hate you,” I mumble into the pillow. “That’s what everyone says.” He grabs my bare shoulder with one of his big mitts and shakes me.

One of Libby’s key assumptions had been that the quantity of carbon-14 in the atmosphere was constant, but this, as it turned out, was not true. Changes in the earth’s magnetic field, sunspot activity, even human activities like burning fossil fuels, exploding atom bombs, and testing nuclear weapons, altered the atmospheric concentration of radiocarbon. Unless radiocarbon dates were corrected using a known formula (i.e., calibrated), they could be off by significant amounts (as much as seven hundred years in the case of dates around 3000 B.C.). Gradually

A, B, C, D in some TIME By: Aron Micko H.B Alarming bomb during wartime. Arguing voices during nighttime. Asking forgiveness in a short time. Avoiding conflicts until the end of time. Bleeding normal people, not in crime. Balancing one world in just one time. Bombing violently during downtime. Beginning destruction in our mealtime. Calming that there is peacetime. Calling for humility to show time. Calculating the peace over time. Collecting for nothing is a part-time. Dreaming of using gadgets every time. Developing our sadness in daytime. Dropping our problems for longtime. Dying obligations in real lifetime. 3/7/22

Listen, Monique. Nic is dead. He’s gone. He was trying to help people. He helped carry a wounded man into the church. I was about to follow him there myself. But before I got there, the bombs began to fall. They destroyed the church. They killed everyone inside. I watched it happen. I’m sorry. But he’s gone.” Just as Luc feared, Monique collapsed in his arms. She was sobbing uncontrollably, crying, “No, no, no!” Luc set her down gently, then glanced across the park. The rest of the group had reached the truck. They were waiting for him. They were counting on him. He again scooped up Jacqueline in his arms. Then he pleaded with Monique to come with him.

There is nothing surprising about the European Union. It’s the medieval Catholic Church resurrected as a secular institution. The British are Protestants who couldn’t stand being in a Catholic Union. That’s really why Brexit happened. In the America presidential election, why was Hillary Clinton so hated? It was because she was perceived as a kind of Pope (President) in charge of the Washington D.C. Establishment (the Church). She was an expert, and experts are hated by ordinary Americans. Why did Donald Trump prove so successful? It was because he was an extreme individualistic narcissist, exactly like so many Protestant Americans. Naturally, he himself is a Protestant.

SEPTEMBER 1, 1939 WASHINGTON, D.C. The Nazis invaded Poland on a Friday. At 2:50 a.m., President Roosevelt was awakened at the White House residence by a phone call from William Bullitt, the U.S. ambassador in Paris, with news that German planes were bombing Warsaw and that German panzer divisions had punctured the borders. “Well, Bill, it’s come at last,” the president said. “God help us all.” A few hours later, the president met in the Oval Office with Secretary Hull, Undersecretary Sumner Welles, Secretary of War Henry Stimson, and Harry Hopkins, the commerce secretary and one of Roosevelt’s closest confidants. William Barrett, Hull’s senior advisor, sat in on the meeting to take notes.

Řekněme, že je nějakým zázrakem možné z atomů komára odstranit všechny negativně nabité elektrony, zbydou tedy pouze pozitivní atomová jádra. Ty se samozřejmě budou vzájemně odpuzovat a komár exploduje. Otázka zní, jak velkou energii bude mít tato exploze? (a) energii prskavky? (b) energii válečku dynamitu? (c) energii vodíkové bomby o mohutnosti 1 megatuny? (d) energii potřebnou k dosažení globálního masového vyhynutí? Možná jste se domnívali, že správná odpověď je (b) váleček dynamitu, možná (c) megatunová vodíková bomba. Pokud jste zvolili (c), jste alespoň na správné cestě. Vodíková bomba je pro srovnání dobrá. Nikoli však jedna. Milion miliard megatunových vodíkových bomb. Exploze komára by vyvinula energii rovnající se asteroidu o velikosti města, který narazil do Země před 65 miliony let a vyhladil dinosaury. Odpověď je (d).

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb. “How are we to live in an atomic age?” I am tempted to reply: “Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, an age of air raids, an age of railway accidents, an age of motor accidents.” In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb was invented: and quite a high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways. We had, indeed, one very great advantage over our ancestors — anesthetics; but we have that still. It is perfectly ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing long faces because the scientists have added one more chance of painful and premature death to a world which already bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance at all, but a certainty. This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts—not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.

The hard-fought victories in America's checkered history were won neither with parchment nor with words, but with guns, with blood, and with unimaginable suffering. Slavery, like Nazism and other totalitarian horrors, was vanquished by flying steel, by heartbreak, and by brute force—by whites and blacks who together smashed the institutions that had hijacked American liberty and perverted it for their own profit. But triggers are ultimately pulled by men, and successful campaigns require their practitioners to carry with them more than merely bombs and water. 'Europe was created by history,' Margaret Thatcher liked to say, but 'America was created by philosophy.' That philosophy, established by the founding generation and routinely recruited by the excluded ever since, remains extraordinarily potent—a North Star for wandering discontents within America's borders and without.

For most things in life, the range between best and average is 30% or so. The best airplane flight, the best meal, they may be 30% better than your average one. What I saw with Woz was somebody who was fifty times better than the average engineer. He could have meetings in his head. The Mac team was an attempt to build a whole team like that, A players. People said they wouldn’t get along, they’d hate working with each other. But I realized that A players like to work with A players, they just didn’t like working with C players. At Pixar, it was a whole company of A players. When I got back to Apple, that’s what I decided to try to do. You need to have a collaborative hiring process. When we hire someone, even if they’re going to be in marketing, I will have them talk to the design folks and the engineers. My role model was J. Robert Oppenheimer. I read about the type of people he sought for the atom bomb project. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, but that’s what I aspired to do.

Birthing your dreams is like. . . . giving birth. Conceiving the idea is the fun part (hopefully), then you go through insane amounts of fear and excitement and dreaming and planning and vomiting and growing and thinking you’re crazy and thinking you’re awesome and stretching and shape shifting until you’re practically unrecognizable to everyone, even your own self. Along the way you clean up your puke and massage your aching back and apologize to all the people whose heads your ripped of in a hormonal killing spree, but you stay the course because you know this baby of yours is going to be the bomb. Then, finally, just when you can see a light at the end of the tunnel, labor starts. Your innards twist and strangle and force you to stumble around hunched over in the shape of the letter “C” while you breathe and pray and curse and just when you think it can’t get any more out-of-your-mind painful, a giant baby head squeezes out of a tiny hole in your body. Then. A full-blown miracle appears.

Po behen pothuaj tri jave nga shetitja e nje Majit, por bashke me keto po behen edhe tri jave nga pershendetja tallese dhe e fundit e Poles. Mendoj, mendoj dhe habitem me vete: A me te vertete me ka dashuruar Pola? Atehere cfare dreq eshte kjo dashuri rinie? Une po! Kam dashuri, d.m.th., gezohem kur gezohen te tjeret dhe deshperohem, kur deshperohen ata. Mirepo, kete fare gezimi e deshperimi e ndiej edhe per cdo njeri te larget, madje edhe per Polen e per te gjithe. . ., por asnje nuk dua te kem pa pa perpara. . . I dua, por malli s’me merr! E shoh njerine si njeri per t’u pare, por jo per t’u adhuruar. Njeriu, qe do te adhurohet — qe do te dashurohet, desha te them — prej te gjitheve a prej nje njeriu s’eshte lindur ende. . ., por as qe ka per t’u lindur ndonje i tille! Pra, po them te drejten, se une e doja dhe e dua me gjithe zemer Polen, por me nje dashuri familjare, ashtu si i dua dhe motrat e mia. Sa here qe ka rene puna per te kercyer dance me te a te fjalosesha per ndonje gje, gjithnje e nderoja si njeri, pa anuar mendja per keq. E them kete, sepse ta dashurosh tjetrin ose tjetren per nje pune shtazore, atehere humbet cdo qellim njerezor dhe pastaj eshte e kote te dashurosh! Por ja qe doli ne shesh: -Te dua! - me tha si pa gje te keqe. - Fort mire! Me do? Edhe une te dua! U mbarua puna. Mirpo: - Pse nuk me dorezohesh? Ja kete mister nuk mund ta zgjidh. Per te dashuruar si moter a si njeri e kam dashuruar, por per ta dashuruar si kafshe, as qe me ka shkuar mendja. Por Pola me paska dashur per burre te saj. . . per jeten e saj! Ne qofte se ishte ndonje tjeter ne vendin tim, kete gje do ta quante si dashuri rinie; mirepo une nuk e quaj, dhe as qe kam pse ta quaj ashtu. Po, mik, nuk e quaj: mbasi u njohem mire me Polen, ajo eshte sjelle me shume miqesi me mua, aq sa me se fundi pati guximin perpara familjes se saj te me jepte nje dhurate. Por kjo s’ka ndonje rendesi, mbasi dhurata nuk eshte gje tjeter, vecse nje shprehje adhurimi njerezor, nje pasterti zemre per njeri-tjetrin. Me vone miqesia u kthye jo ne dashuri familjare, por ne dashuri hice, ne dashuri te rreme, se brenda saj fshihej: “Te me dorrezohesh!”. Ajo e mendonte jeten, te ardhmen e saj te siguruar fare mire me mua; vec kesaj, nga qe jam i pashem dhe terheqes, ajo donte te mertohej me mua. Thurr e c’thur enderra lumturie, enderra martese. Shiko tani se ku qendronte dashuria e Poles: tek e ardhmja e saj: eshte i mire dhe nuk do vuaj: pra: ka dashuri! Kete “te me dorezohesh!”, e mbajti te mbyllur ne zemren e saj shume muaj, me shprese, se do t’ia thoja une me pare. Mirpo, kur pa, se s’ia varja veshin fare per kete pune, atehere u detyrua te ma thote vete kete gje. Por, fatkeqesi per te! - Pse nuk me dorezohesh? . . . - Pse nuk mund. . . pse kam tjeter! - Keto fjale te mia i rane si bombe. E po atehere? Atehere gjithe shpresa e saj e bukur u varros sa pa lindur dhe pastaj, duke mos ditur se si ta mbronte veten, filloi te qaje: qante zemra e saj me lejen e arsyes per lumturine e enderruar, qe i vdiq. Puna e saj eshte porsi nje vdekje. Kur vdes njeriu, qajme pse pa ate na cenohet disi rruga e jetes. Keshtu pra, Pola, nuk qau dashurine time, por kujtimin e lumturise se saj! Dhe me se fundi iku! Sikur te me dashuronte me te vertete, Pola, edhe kur ia tregova lajmin e fejeses, ajo duhej te me dashuronte ashtu sikurse e dua une, me gjithe qe jam i lidhur me Aferditen. Mirepo, ajo jo, me dashuronte deri sa e shihte se po shkonte mbare interesi i saj, por kur e pa se ai ngeci atehere ngeci dhe dashuria e saj.

...Me, I do not want to go to no suburbans not even Brooklyn. But Joyce wants to integrate. She says America has got two cultures, which should not he divided as they now is, so let's leave Harlem." "Don't you agree that Joyce is right?" "White is right," said Simple, "so I have always heard. But I never did believe it. White folks do so much wrong! Not only do they mistreat me, but they mistreats themselves. Right now, all they got their minds on is shooting off rockets and sending up atom bombs and poisoning the air and fighting wars and Jim Crowing the universe." "Why do you say 'Jim Crowing the universe'?" "Because I have not heard tell of no Negro astronaughts nowhere in space yet. This is serious, because if one of them white Southerners gets to the moon first, COLORED NOT ADMITTED signs will go up all over heaven as sure as God made little green apples, and Dixiecrats will be asking the man in the moon, 'Do you want your daughter to marry a Nigra?' Meanwhile, the N.A.A.C.P. will have to go to the Supreme Court, as usual, to get an edict for Negroes to even set foot on the moon. By that time, Roy Wilkins will be too old to make the trip, and me, too." "But perhaps the Freedom Riders will go into orbit on their own," I said. "Or Harlem might vote Adam Powell into the Moon Congress.'' "One thing I know," said Simple, "is that Martin Luther King will pray himself up there. The moon must be a halfway stop on the way to Glory, and King will probably be arrested. I wonder if them Southerners will take police dogs to the moon?

MEANWHILE, a group of scientists in Chicago, spurred on by Szilard, organized an informal committee on the social and political implications of the bomb. In early June 1945, several members of the committee produced a twelve-page document that came to be known as the Franck Report, after its chairman, the Nobelist James Franck. It concluded that a surprise atomic attack on Japan was inadvisable from any point of view: “It may be very difficult to persuade the world that a nation which was capable of secretly preparing and suddenly releasing a weapon as indiscriminate as the [German] rocket bomb and a million times more destructive, is to be trusted in its proclaimed desire of having such weapons abolished by international agreement.” The signatories recommended a demonstration of the new weapon before representatives of the United Nations, perhaps in a desert site or on a barren island. Franck was dispatched with the Report to Washington, D.C., where he was informed, falsely, that Stimson was out of town. Truman never saw the Franck Report; it was seized by the Army and classified. By contrast to the people in Chicago, the scientists in Los Alamos, working feverishly to test the plutonium implosion bomb model as soon as possible, had little time to think about how or whether their “gadget” should be used on Japan. But they also felt that they could rely on Oppenheimer. As the Met Lab biophysicist Eugene Rabinowitch, one of the seven signatories of the Franck Report, observed, the Los Alamos scientists shared a widespread “feeling that we can trust Oppenheimer to do the right thing.

The assassination of President Kennedy killed not only a man but a complex of illusions. It demolished the myth that hate and violence can be confined in an airtight chamber to be employed against but a few. Suddenly the truth was revealed that hate is a contagion; that it grows and spreads as a disease; that no society is so healthy that it can automatically maintain its immunity. If a smallpox epidemic had been raging in the South, President Kennedy would have been urged to avoid the area. There was a plague afflicting the South, but its perils were not perceived. Negroes tragically know political assassination well. In the life of Negro civil-rights leaders, the whine of the bullet from ambush, the roar of the bomb have all too often broken the night's silence. They have replaced lynching as a political weapon. More than a decade ago, sudden death came to Mr. and Mrs. Harry T. Moore, N.A.A.C.P. leaders in Florida. The Reverend George Lee of Belzoni, Mississippi, was shot to death on the steps of a rural courthouse. The bombings multiplied. Nineteen sixty-three was a year of assassinations. Medgar Evers in Jackson, Mississippi; William Moore in Alabama; six Negro children in Birmingham—and who could doubt that these too were political assassinations? The unforgivable default of our society has been its failure to apprehend the assassins. It is a harsh judgment, but undeniably true, that the cause of the indifference was the identity of the victims. Nearly all were Negroes. And so the plague spread until it claimed the most eminent American, a warmly loved and respected president. The words of Jesus "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me" were more than a figurative expression; they were a literal prophecy. We were all involved in the death of John Kennedy. We tolerated hate; we tolerated the sick stimulation of violence in all walks of life; and we tolerated the differential application of law, which said that a man’s life was sacred only if we agreed with his views. This may explain the cascading grief that flooded the country in late November. We mourned a man who had become the pride of the nation, but we grieved as well for ourselves because we knew we were sick.

Here is my six step process for how we will first start with ISIS and then build an international force that will fight terrorism and corruption wherever it appears. “First, in dedication to Lieutenant Commander McKay, Operation Crapshoot commenced at six o’clock this morning. I’ve directed a handpicked team currently deployed in Iraq to coordinate a tenfold increase in aerial bombing and close air support. In addition to aerial support, fifteen civilian security companies, including delegations from our international allies, are flying special operations veterans into Iraq. Those forces will be tasked with finding and annihilating ISIS, wherever they walk, eat or sleep. I’ve been told that they can’t wait to get started. “Second, going forward, our military will be a major component in our battle against evil. Militaries need training. I’ve been assured by General McMillan and his staff that there is no better final training test than live combat. So without much more expenditure, we will do two things, train our troops of the future, and wipe out international threats. “Third, I have a message for our allies. If you need us, we will be there. If evil raises its ugly head, we will be with you, arm in arm, fighting for what is right. But that aid comes with a caveat. Our allies must be dedicated to the common global ideals of personal and religious freedom. Any supposed ally who ignores these terms will find themselves without impunity. A criminal is a criminal. A thief is a thief. Decide which side you’re on, because our side carries a big stick. “Fourth, to the religious leaders of the world, especially those of Islam, though we live with differing traditions, we are still one people on this Earth. What one person does always has the possibility of affecting others. If you want to be part of our community, it is time to do your part. Denounce the criminals who besmirch your faith. Tell your followers the true meaning of the Koran. Do not let the money and influence of hypocrites taint your religion or your people. We request that you do this now, respectfully, or face the scrutiny of America and our allies. “Fifth, starting today, an unprecedented coalition of three former American presidents, my predecessor included, will travel around the globe to strengthen our alliances. Much like our brave military leaders, we will lead from the front, go where we are needed. We will go toe to toe with any who would seek to undermine our good intentions, and who trample the freedoms of our citizens. In the coming days you will find out how great our resolve truly is. “Sixth, my staff is in the process of drafting a proposal for the members of the United Nations. The proposal will outline our recommendations for the formation of an international terrorism strike force along with an international tax that will fund ongoing anti-terrorism operations. Only the countries that contribute to this fund will be supported by the strike force. You pay to play.

Nevertheless, it would be prudent to remain concerned. For, like death, IT would come: Armageddon. There would be-without exaggeration-a series of catastrophes. As a consequence of the evil in man...-no mere virus, however virulent, was even a burnt match for our madness, our unconcern, our cruelty-...there would arise a race of champions, predators of humans: namely earthquakes, eruptions, tidal waves, tornados, typhoons, hurricanes, droughts-the magnificent seven. Floods, winds, fires, slides. The classical elements, only angry. Oceans would warm, the sky boil and burn, the ice cap melt, the seas rise. Rogue nations, like kids killing kids at their grammar school, would fire atomic-hydrogen-neutron bombs at one another. Smallpox would revive, or out of the African jungle would slide a virus no one understood. Though reptilian only in spirit, the disease would make us shed our skins like snakes and, naked to the nerves, we'd expire in a froth of red spit. Markets worldwide would crash as reckless cars on a speedway do, striking the wall and rebounding into one another, hurling pieces of themselves at the spectators in the stands. With money worthless-that last faith lost-the multitude would riot, race against race at first, God against God, the gots against the gimmes. Insects hardened by generations of chemicals would consume our food, weeds smother our fields, fire ants, killer bees sting us while we're fleeing into refuge water, where, thrashing we would drown, our pride a sodden wafer. Pestilence. War. Famine. A cataclysm of one kind or another-coming-making millions of migrants. Wearing out the roads. Foraging in the fields. Looting the villages. Raping boys and women. There'd be no tent cities, no Red Cross lunches, hay drops. Deserts would appear as suddenly as patches of crusty skin. Only the sun would feel their itch. Floods would sweep suddenly over all those newly arid lands as if invited by the beach. Forest fires would burn, like those in coal mines, for years, uttering smoke, making soot for speech, blackening every tree leaf ahead of their actual charring. Volcanoes would erupt in series, and mountains melt as though made of rock candy till the cities beneath them were caught inside the lava flow where they would appear to later eyes, if there were any eyes after, like peanuts in brittle. May earthquakes jelly the earth, Professor Skizzen hotly whispered. Let glaciers advance like motorboats, he bellowed, threatening a book with his fist. These convulsions would be a sign the parasites had killed their host, evils having eaten all they could; we'd hear a groan that was the going of the Holy Ghost; we'd see the last of life pissed away like beer from a carouse; we'd feel a shudder move deeply through this universe of dirt, rock, water, ice, and air, because after its long illness the earth would have finally died, its engine out of oil, its sky of light, winds unable to catch a breath, oceans only acid; we'd be witnessing a world that's come to pieces bleeding searing steam from its many wounds; we'd hear it rattling its atoms around like dice in a cup before spilling randomly out through a split in the stratosphere, night and silence its place-well-not of rest-of disappearance. My wish be willed, he thought. Then this will be done, he whispered so no God could hear him. That justice may be served, he said to the four winds that raged in the corners of his attic.

The cruise missiles had softened up the area, but that was only the start. The real heavyweight punch from the world’s only superpower would come in the form of a gigantic bomb — the BLU-82B/C-130, known as Commando Vault in Vietnam and now nicknamed Daisy Cutter.

When she’s in a courtroom, Wendy Patrick, a deputy district attorney for San Diego, uses some of the roughest words in the English language. She has to, given that she prosecutes sex crimes. Yet just repeating the words is a challenge for a woman who not only holds a law degree but also degrees in theology and is an ordained Baptist minister. “I have to say (a particularly vulgar expletive) in court when I’m quoting other people, usually the defendants,” she admitted. There’s an important reason Patrick has to repeat vile language in court. “My job is to prove a case, to prove that a crime occurred,” she explained. “There’s often an element of coercion, of threat, (and) of fear. Colorful language and context is very relevant to proving the kind of emotional persuasion, the menacing, a flavor of how scary these guys are. The jury has to be made aware of how bad the situation was. Those words are disgusting.” It’s so bad, Patrick said, that on occasion a judge will ask her to tone things down, fearing a jury’s emotions will be improperly swayed. And yet Patrick continues to be surprised when she heads over to San Diego State University for her part-time work of teaching business ethics. “My students have no qualms about dropping the ‘F-bomb’ in class,” she said. “The culture in college campuses is that unless they’re disruptive or violating the rules, that’s (just) the way kids talk.” Experts say people swear for impact, but the widespread use of strong language may in fact lessen that impact, as well as lessen society’s ability to set apart certain ideas and words as sacred. . . . [C]onsider the now-conversational use of the texting abbreviation “OMG,” for “Oh, My God,” and how the full phrase often shows up in settings as benign as home-design shows without any recognition of its meaning by the speakers. . . . Diane Gottsman, an etiquette expert in San Antonio, in a blog about workers cleaning up their language, cited a 2012 Career Builder survey in which 57 percent of employers say they wouldn’t hire a candidate who used profanity. . . . She added, “It all comes down to respect: if you wouldn’t say it to your grandmother, you shouldn’t say it to your client, your boss, your girlfriend or your wife.” And what about Hollywood, which is often blamed for coarsening the language? According to Barbara Nicolosi, a Hollywood script consultant and film professor at Azusa Pacific University, an evangelical Christian school, lazy script writing is part of the explanation for the blue tide on television and in the movies. . . . By contrast, she said, “Bad writers go for the emotional punch of crass language,” hence the fire-hose spray of obscenities [in] some modern films, almost regardless of whether or not the subject demands it. . . . Nicolosi, who noted that “nobody misses the bad language” when it’s omitted from a script, said any change in the industry has to come from among its ranks: “Writers need to have a conversation among themselves and in the industry where we popularize much more responsible methods in storytelling,” she said. . . . That change can’t come quickly enough for Melissa Henson, director of grass-roots education and advocacy for the Parents Television Council, a pro-decency group. While conceding there is a market for “adult-themed” films and language, Henson said it may be smaller than some in the industry want to admit. “The volume of R-rated stuff that we’re seeing probably far outpaces what the market would support,” she said. By contrast, she added, “the rate of G-rated stuff is hardly sufficient to meet market demands.” . . . Henson believes arguments about an “artistic need” for profanity are disingenuous. “You often hear people try to make the argument that art reflects life,” Henson said. “I don’t hold to that. More often than not, ‘art’ shapes the way we live our lives, and it skews our perceptions of the kind of life we're supposed to live." [DN, Apr. 13, 2014]

In no class of warfare,” C. E. Callwell had written a hundred years earlier, about the “small wars” of the nineteenth century, “is a well organized and well served intelligence department more essential than in that against guerrillas.” The same qualities that made intelligence so important when countering guerrillas then—the difficulty of finding the enemy, of striking him, and of predicting his next move and defending against it—were increased a hundredfold when trying to counter terrorists in the age of electronic communication and car bombs.

La peur aura permis à une poignée d’individus de façonner la société comme ils l’entendent. La peur aura permis de changer le visage de cette société. Elle aura permis le contrôle du peuple. Et du monde. Le Nouvel Ordre mondial.(....) Une vision manichéenne mais bilatérale dans laquelle chaque clan est persuadé d’être le bon, persécuté, et qu’il a tous les droits en retour pour se venger et détruire l’ennemi dans une spirale sans fin, qui peut durer des décennies. L’exemple le plus flagrant est le messie du peuple : la télévision. Sur CNN on découvre le conflit israélo-palestinien avec les images des enfants juifs mutilés par les bombes des terroristes palestiniens, tandis que sur Al-Jazira ce sont les enfants palestiniens qui sont à l’image, déchirés par les bombes de Tsahal. Chaque clan, informé avec subjectivité, est ainsi persuadé d’être la victime de l’autre, l’ennemi cruel contre lequel il faut lutter. Les membres du PNAC ne sont pas innocents. Ils prônent la souveraineté sans partage des États-Unis. Et ils ont préparé depuis longtemps leurs plans. Ils ont investi la Maison-Blanche. Pour répandre sur toute la planète leur idéal. Et trouver à leur pays un nouvel ennemi. Le terrorisme. Un prétexte. Pour instaurer la peur, pour passer de nouvelles lois, pour affirmer leur pouvoir, pour renforcer leurs richesses et contrôler le monde. C’est la réalité. Celle d’un nouveau monde qui se construit sur notre ignorance.

These "prophets of doom" point out that man's destructive capability increased from 1945 to 1960 by the same ratio as it did from the primitive weapons of the Stone Age to the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The thawing

Thirty seconds after the explosion came first, the air blast pressing hard against people and things, to be followed almost immediately by the strong, sustained, awesome roar which warned of doomsday and made us feel that we puny things were blasphemous to dare tamper with the forces heretofore reserved to the Almighty.

Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.

After the snap, Chad took off like a gazelle and the quarterback hurled a 30-yard bomb that rocketed straight to him. Fast as Chad was, Joshua ran him down like a Discovery Channel cheetah. It was no contest.

Specification   McDonnell F-110 Spectre (USN F-4B)   Engines: Two General Electric J79-GE-8A (or -8B) turbojets each rated at 17,900-lb thrust with afterburner Length: 58-ft 3-in Height: 16-ft 3-in Wingspan: 38-ft 4-in Weights: 54,600-lb maximum gross Maximum speed: 1,485-mph Cruising speed: 575-mph Service ceiling: 62,000-ft Range: 1,610-miles Armament: Around 16,000-lb of missiles, rockets and bombs. Air to air missiles included AIM-9 Sidewinder and AIM-7 Sparrow; air to surface missiles included AGM-12C Bullpup B and 2.75-in FFAR. A tactical nuclear free fall bomb could be carried and under wing external fuel tanks were sometimes carried depending on mission requirements Crew: Two

Bombs were generally the tools of cowards or the desperate, those who either had no stomach for looking their opponents in the eyes or those who were so outclassed that honor had become a dangerous and entirely unaffordable affectation.

Presi in giro dalla doppia ipocrisia di calcio e politica Michele Brambilla | 723 parole Sinceramente: non ne possiamo più di sentire un ministro dell’Interno che dice «nessuna clemenza» per i delinquenti che rovinano una partita di calcio. Ci sentiamo presi in giro. Sono anni che, periodicamente, siamo qui a commentare incidenti aggressioni e ferimenti prima, durante e dopo le partite. Abbiamo visto di tutto: tifosi ammazzati con una coltellata, capi ultrà che intimano ai giocatori di non giocare un derby, motorini lanciati dal secondo anello. E i ministri dell’Interno e i capi di governo che dicono: adesso basta, nessuna clemenza. Poi, tutto resta come prima. Altrettanto sinceramente: non ne possiamo più neppure di sentire ministri dell’Interno che si complimentano con le forze dell’ordine per aver «subito identificato e fermato» i delinquenti che hanno tirato le bombe carta dentro lo stadio. Eh no, signor ministro, anche qui ci sta prendendo in giro. Qualsiasi buon padre di famiglia sia andato almeno una volta allo stadio, sa che ai tornelli viene fermato, controllato, perquisito: e se ha una bottiglietta di acqua minerale, gli viene ordinato di togliere il tappo. Poi però i cosiddetti ultras possono portare dentro di tutto, compreso il materiale per fabbricare le bombe carta. Ecco perché ci sentiamo presi in giro anche per i complimenti alle forze dell’ordine che individuano e fermano: bisogna pensarci prima, signor ministro. Le «forze dell’ordine», come le chiama lei, devono perquisire i cosiddetti ultrà come intrepidamente perquisiscono i nonni. È passato un anno dalla finale di Coppa Italia che aveva fatto indignare il presidente del Consiglio. Era presente allo stadio e aveva assistito con i propri bambini allo strazio della trattativa fra un soggetto chiamato Genny ’a carogna e la polizia. Aveva dunque promesso interventi durissimi e immediati. Siamo ancora qui, come venti o trenta anni fa. E a proposito di trent’anni fa: nel 1985 ci fu la tragedia dell’Heysel, una strage provocata dai cosiddetti holligans. La Gran Bretagna decise che bisognava fare sul serio, e sul serio fece. Da allora, in Inghilterra non è più successo nulla. In Italia, invece, solo il nuovo stadio della Juventus ha provato a replicare il modello inglese. Per il resto, tutto è ancora come ai tempi di quel derby romano del 1979, quando un tifoso venne accoppato da un razzo sparato dalla gradinata opposta. Questo è dunque un fronte: l’ipocrisia delle società di calcio e della politica, capaci solo di esprimere il consueto «sdegno». Un altro fronte riguarda la domanda, che prima o poi dovremo pur porci in profondità, sull’immensa quantità di rabbia, di rancore e di violenza che si è riversata sul mondo del calcio. Non solo su quello professionistico. Chiunque abbia figli che giocano nelle giovanili sa di che cosa sto parlando. Le partite dei ragazzi e dei bambini sono ormai diventate momenti in cui genitori e ahimè spesso anche gli allenatori e i dirigenti sfogano tutto l’irrisolto che si portano dentro. Ieri ho visto una partita di uno dei miei figli e a un certo punto è entrato un ragazzo di colore. Uno degli avversari gli ha detto: «Sei venuto in Italia a rompere i c...?». L’arbitro per fortuna ha sentito e l’ha espulso. Ma mentre l’espulso, uscendo dal campo, gridava al ragazzo di colore «ci vediamo fuori», il suo allenatore, invece di zittirlo, insultava l’arbitro per aver tirato fuori il cartellino rosso per così poco. Tutto questo mentre sugli spalti i genitori delle due squadre – che avevano appena deprecato gli incidenti del derby di Torino – se ne dicevano di tutti i colori. Ecco, credo che dovremo anche chiederci come mai il calcio sia diventato il ricettacolo di tanta violenza repressa. I tifosi che gridano «uccideteli» in serie A sono immersi nello stesso odio che fa litigare anche sui campi dove sgambettano i pulcini. Insomma i fronti sono due: la politica e le società

C-bombs destroyed most of Asia and North America back in the Twentieth Century.

― Je pensais que c'était évident, confessa Tristan comme si cette dernière déclaration n'avait pas eu l'effet d'une bombe atomique.

But Mike was not a Layercake device; Beria had misdirected his scientific staff. In time this led to Beria’s ultimate dilemma.

every major discussion of ethics these days begins with an analysis of the chaotic situation of modern culture. Even secular writers and thinkers are calling for some sort of basic agreement on ethical behavior. Humanity’s “margin of error,” they say, is shrinking with each new day. Our survival is at stake. These “prophets of doom” point out that man’s destructive capability increased from 1945 to 1960 by the same ratio as it did from the primitive weapons of the Stone Age to the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The thawing of the Cold War provided little comfort. Numerous nations have nuclear arms now or are close to having them. What, besides

In his recent guest editorial, Richard McNally voices skepticism about the National Vietnam Veteran’s Readjustment Study (NVVRS) data reporting that over one-half of those who served in the Vietnam War have posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) or subclinical PTSD. Dr McNally is particularly skeptical because only 15% of soldiers served in combat units (1). He writes, “the mystery behind the discrepancy in numbers of those with the disease and of those in combat remains unsolved today” (4, p 815). He talks about bizarre facts and implies many, if not most, cases of PTSD are malingered or iatrogenic. Dr McNally ignores the obvious reality that when people are deployed to a war zone, exposure to trauma is not limited to members of combat units (2,3). At the Operational Trauma and Stress Support Centre of the Canadian Forces in Ottawa, we have assessed over 100 Canadian soldiers, many of whom have never been in combat units, who have experienced a range of horrific traumas and threats in places like Rwanda, Somalia, Bosnia, and Afghanistan. We must inform Dr McNally that, in real world practice, even cooks and clerks are affected when faced with death, genocide, ethnic cleansing, bombs, landmines, snipers, and suicide bombers ... One theory suggests that there is a conscious decision on the part of some individuals to deny trauma and its impact. Another suggests that some individuals may use dissociation or repression to block from consciousness what is quite obvious to those who listen to real-life patients." Cameron, C., & Heber, A. (2006). Re: Troubles in Traumatology, and Debunking Myths about Trauma and Memory/Reply: Troubles in Traumatology and Debunking Myths about Trauma and Memory. Canadian journal of psychiatry, 51(6), 402.

L'affrontement des civilisations, ce n'est pas un débat sur les mérites respectifs d'Erasme et d'Avicenne, de l'alcool et du voile, ou des textes sacrés; c'est une dérive globale vers la xénophobie, la discrimination, les vexations ethniques et les massacres mutuels, c'est-à-dire vers l'érosion de tout ce qui constitue la dignité morale de notre civilisation humaine. Quand règne pareille atmosphère, même ceux qui sont persuadés de se battre contre la barbarie finissent par y tomber à leur tour. La violence terroriste entraîne la violence antiterroriste, qui alimente le ressentiment, facilite la tâche des recruteurs fanatiques, et prépare de futurs attentats. Telle population est-elle regardée avec suspicion parce qu'elle pose des bombes, ou bien pose-t-elle des bombes parce qu'elle est regardée avec suspicion ? C'est l'éternelle histoire de l'œuf et de la poule, et il ne sert plus à rien de chercher la bonne réponse, celle-ci n'existe pas; chacun apporte les réponses que lui dictent ses peurs, ses préjugés, ses origines, ses blessures. Il faudrait pouvoir briser le cercle vicieux; mais à partir du moment où l'engrenage s'enclenche, il est difficile de retirer la main.

Every pile of rocks could hide another bomb, every mound of dirt could conceal a land mine. Every plastic bag could be a trip wire. Every step could be my last.

Bob Kelly, a psychological-warfare adviser working with the South Vietnamese in Quang Ngai Province, organized pro-government rallies, of which the first was not an unqualified success. Local people were herded like cattle to attend, then left sitting without water under a hot sun. The occasion’s highlight was to be a C-47 flying low overhead, broadcasting government propaganda. The plane arrived early, and from a thousand feet its raucous tones drowned out the local province chief’s speech on the ground. Then the airborne broadcaster demanded in Vietnamese, “Mr. Province Chief, have you finished yet?” This infuriated and humiliated local officials, whose temper was not improved when the plane began to drop leaflets in bundles that failed to burst in the air, so they landed like bombs. It never occurred to the Americans involved, some laughing and others almost tearful amid the shambles, that it was wildly inappropriate for them to be seen orchestrating a Vietnamese political rally.

Director of the CIA was aware of a terrorist group’s plan to bomb the Washington, D.C., metro system. He let the bombing occur, in order to gain congressional approval for the use of extreme measures against that group.

Epidemics also feed on “the news”. I recall hearing of germ warfare experiments performed in the 1940’s. Two towns were chosen. One town was “bombed” with leaflets, the other was not. Then days later the biological weapon was deployed. The town that was warned succumbed in high percentages. The town without warning had a very low incidence of infection and the weapon had poor military effectiveness. So thanks cable news, 24/7 coverage in advance of flu season really helps the public, Not!

La guerra, noi pensavamo che avrebbe immediatamente rovesciato e capovolto la vita di tutti. Invece per anni molta gente rimase indisturbata nella sua casa, seguitando a fare quello che aveva fatto sempre. Quando ormai ciascuno pensava che in fondo se l'era cavata con poco e non ci sarebbero stati sconvolgimenti di sorta, né case distrutte, né fughe o persecuzioni, di colpo esplosero bombe e mine dovunque e le case crollarono, e le strade furono piene di rovine, di soldati e di profughi. E non c'era più uno che potesse far finta di niente, chiudere gli occhi e tapparsi le orecchie e cacciare la testa sotto al guanciale, non c'era. In Italia fu così la guerra.

je serai jamais OK avec le fait qu'on me pile sur la tête, qu'on soit colon, qu'on gaspille, qu'on me méprise, qu'on m'ignore. Je suis pas quelqu'un de tranquille, et c'est une chance parce qu'être tranquille c'est un autre mot pour être mort, mais c'est un peu une bombe à retardement

We ain't nothin but a nation of goddamn chickenshit horseshit tattle-tale pissy-ass whiney, fat, flabby out-of-shape Facebook-lookin damn twerk-fest, peekin out the windows and slippin around listenin in on the cell phones and spyin in the peephole and peepin in the crack of the goddamn door and listenin to the fuckin shit rock, you know Mr. Putin please, show some fuckin mercy - I mean c'mon drop the fuckin bomb won't you.

The official Los Alamos history measures the significance of Frisch’s Dragon-tickling: These experiments gave direct evidence of an explosive chain reaction. They gave an energy production of up to twenty million watts, with a temperature rise in the hydride up to 2°C per millisecond. The strongest burst obtained produced 1015 neutrons. The dragon is of historical importance. It was the first controlled nuclear reaction which was supercritical with prompt neutrons alone.

He sighed. All good intentions aside, sometimes he wondered, who am I kidding? Because sometimes he wondered if what was really driving him was guilt; guilt for walking away that November morning, through the acrid smell of burning fuel and the burning rubber smell from the bombed-out Jeeps; for looking at his hands and counting his fingers while the smell of the moist earth ejected by exploding Viet Cong shells mingled with the stench of burning flesh; and most of all, for being able to walk at all and for being able to see, smell and experience the nightmares that still haunted him nightly and the visions that still came during the day. He was guilty for feeling relief— relief that it was not his mangled body lying half-in and half-out of the blackened shell of a burned-out military vehicle; it wasn’t his headless torso next to a crater; and, it wasn’t his body zipped into one of the dark plastic body bags that lined the edge of the tarmac, waiting for pickup and removal by the C-130 transports the day he went home.

the conspirators had completed experiments on potent liquid explosives manufactured from hydrogen peroxide, hexamine, and citric acid. Their formula could disguise a powerful bomb as a colored sports drink, to be detonated by ordinary AA batteries.

The following day August 23rd, a 5.9 magnitude earthquake occurred 84 miles southwest of Washington D.C. This

With a spring in my step that couldn’t be obtained by anything other than a wholly successful bomb drop,

C. P. Snow, who was also present, remembers the performance as “one of the shortest accounts ever made about a major discovery.” When tall and birdlike Chadwick finished speaking he looked over the assembly and announced abruptly, “Now I want to be chloroformed and put to bed for a fortnight.

The choice had been made. The bomb was already looking ahead, to the terminus of its new trajectory.

Trader Joe’s first private label food product was granola. We installed Alta Dena certified raw milk, to the disgruntlement of Southland, and within six months were the largest retailers of Alta Dena milk, both pasteurized and raw, in California. We began price-bombing five-pound cans of honey, and then all the ingredients for baking bread at home. We installed fresh orange juice squeezers in the stores, and sold fresh juice at the lowest price in town. By late in 1971, we were moving into vitamins, encouraged by my very good friend James C. Caillouette, MD. Jim spent a lot of time talking with the faculty at Cal Tech. He was convinced that Linus Pauling was on to something with his research on vitamin C. I set out to break the price on vitamin C. At one point, I think, we were doing 3 percent of sales in vitamin C! Later, Jim forwarded articles from the British medical magazine Lancet, describing how a high fiber diet could avoid colon cancer. But where could we get bran? The only stores that sold it were conventional health food stores, who sold it in bulk, something that I have always been opposed to on the grounds of hygiene. And still am! Leroy found a hippie outfit in Venice—I think it was called Mom’s Trucking—which would package the bran. But bran is a low-value product. They couldn’t afford to deliver it. Since they also packaged nuts and dried fruits, however, we somewhat reluctantly added them to the order. And that’s how Trader Joe’s became the largest retailer of nuts and dried fruits in California! Brilliant foresight! Astute market analysis! By 1989, when I left Trader Joe’s, we regularly took down 5 percent of the entire Californian pistachio crop, and we were the thirteenth largest buyer of almonds in the United States—Hershey was number one.

Utiliser son sac avec grace, c'est comme manger avec elegance, marcher avec prestance ou saisir un verre de champagne avec classe. La beaute se definit en general par la sobriete et l'economie des moyens, par l'adaptation des formes a leur fin, des formes simples, pures et primaires. Investir dans un sac de qualite, c'est non seulement se faire plaisir mais aussi se revolter contre la mediocrite et la consommation de masse grandissante qui peu a peu detruisent notre culture, notre civilisation et nos sens. Acheter de la qualite, c'est encourager une autre forme de commerce, respecter ce que nous possedons, vivre avec la lenteur d'un cuir qui se patine et pratiquer la simplicite: ne pas toujours chercher a acquerir plus tout en se contentant de ce que l'on a. Mon conseil est donc celui-ci: ne regardez pas les sacs exposes dans les magasins pour choisir un modele mais ceux portes par les femmes, dans la rue. C'est la meilleure facon de voir comment le cuir se drappe, la forme se bombe, la matiere se patine et s'ils ont, visuellement, une belle architecture une fois portes. L'argent devrait etre utilise pour vivre dans la qualite, y compris la qualite esthetique. Les belles choses apportent une joie durable. Le choix d'un sac pour longtemps ne serait-il pas le besoin d'une certaine forme de stabilite, d'harmonie et de confort dans ses besoins materiels? Affirmer son style, c'est exprimer par ses choix ses gouts et ses valeurs. Les exterioriser ensuite par le bon choix de vetements et de sacs est l'etape suivante. Etre chic, c'est savoir resister a la tentation. Faire des economies ce n'est pas acheter au meilleur prix l'objet convoite, c'est apprendre sereinement a s'en passer. Le voyage est sans doute la meilleure des situations pour apprecier les bienfaits du minimalisme et s'en inspirer pour l'appliquer au quotidien. Le voyage est l'occasion ideale de "refaire son bagage", c'est-a-dire de repenser la facon dont on vit sa vie et de l'ameliorer. On a tout son temps, en voyage, pour penser, reflechir a ce qui fait le "sel de la vie". C'est sur la route qu'on apprend a se passer du superflu: pas de television, de distractions, de consommation et de shopping. La vie est simplifiee au profit de la mobilite. On a egalement plus de temps pour soi-meme et/ou les rencontres. En voyage, on devient, comme le prescrit le zen, prepare a toutes les eventualites de la vie. le voyage est un retour vers l'essentiel. Proverbe tibetain Vivre avec peu est comme une invitation au voyage, a un vol interieur qui libere du reel et du poids de l'existence.

when you despise yourself and everyone else in the world, you just give up, say fuck it, and pray the fuckers will accidentally press the big bomb buttons

According to the FBI, Semtex has an indefinite half-life and is far stronger than traditional explosives such as TNT. It is also easily available on the black market. Semtex became infamous when just 12 ounces of the substance, molded inside a Toshiba cassette recorder, blasted Pan Am flight 103 out of the sky above Lockerbie, Scotland, in December 1988, killing 270 people. A year later, after the Czech Communist regime was toppled, the new president, Vaclav Havel, revealed that the Czechs had exported 900 tons of Semtex to Col. Moammar Qaddafi's Libya and another 1,000 tons to other unstable states such as Syria, North Korea, Iraq, and Iran. Some experts now put worldwide stockpiles of Semtex at 40,000 tons. Brebera says that with so much Semtex already in the hands of terrorists, and similar explosives being produced in other countries, the Czech Republic can no longer control it. "Semtex is no worse an explosive than any other," he says, defensive at the sight of accusatory headlines in Western newspapers. "The American explosive C4 is just as invisible to airport X-rays, but they don't like to mention that." After the Lockerbie tragedy, Brebera added metal components and a distinct odor to make Semtex easier to detect. But that did not stop terrorists from using it to bomb the US Embassy in Nairobi, Kenya, in 1998, or prevent the IRA, which received about 10 tons of Semtex from Libya, from continuing its attacks.

For those united to him, the heart of Jesus is not a rental; it is your new permanent residence. You are not a tenant; you are a child. His heart is not a ticking time bomb; his heart is the green pastures and still waters of endless reassurances of his presence and comfort, whatever our present spiritual accomplishments. It is who he is. 1

But back in 1989, even as the intelligence agencies were sending inputs about the ultra-porous LoC to New Delhi, no attention was paid to them. The then chief minister of J&K, Farooq Abdullah, upon being asked about bomb blasts and the killings of minority Hindus, said that there was no militancy. The government maintained that the disturbances were just the handiwork of Khalistani extremists from Punjab.

Spinse lo sguardo su e giù per la strada priva di grazia. E in quel momento gli parve che in una strada come quella, in una città come quella, ogni vita che vi si vive debba essere senza significato e intollerabile. Il senso di disintegrazione, di decadenza, endemico del nostro tempo, divenne incombente. In certo qual modo aveva a che fare coi cartelloni pubblicitari dall’altra parte della strada. Fissò ora con occhi ancor più veggenti quelle facce sogghignanti d’un metro di larghezza. Dopo tutto, c’era qualcosa di più che semplice vacuità, ingordigia e banalità su quelle facce. Tavolo d’Angolo vi sorride, un sorriso apparentemente ottimistico, con un lampeggiar di denti falsi. Ma che cosa si nasconde dietro quel sorriso? Desolazione, vuoto, profezie di sciagure. Ché non vedete, se sappiate guardare, come dietro quella soddisfazione e quella contentezza imbellettate, sotto quella banalità panciuta e ridacchiante, non ci sia altro che un terribile vuoto, una disperazione segreta? L’immenso desiderio di morte del mondo moderno. Patti suicidi. Teste ficcate nel forno a gas in solitarie villette. Anticoncezionali e stupefacenti. E le premonizioni di guerre future. Aerei nemici in volo su Londra; il sonoro, minaccioso ronzar delle eliche, il rombo dirompente delle bombe. È tutto scritto sulla faccia di Tavolo d’Angolo.

Burch’s description is a masterpiece of understatement: “As you go up to high altitudes, as you should be able to do, the glass becomes very cold. Then, if you come down through a layer of warm air with any moisture in it at all, the windshield, sight and everything fogs up. It’s like putting a white sheet in front of you and you have to bomb from memory. If you start down, watching anti-aircraft fire, with your sight well fixed, and then hit 8,000 feet and somebody puts a sheet in front of you, you feel sort of bad about it. You try to stick your head out over the side of the cockpit, and aim down the side at the target ship. That’s not very accurate bombing.

Harris himself was not the villain of Dresden. The decision to mount the raids, and those on Berlin, Leipzig and Chemnitz, was taken by the combined US, Russian and British Chiefs of Staff, fully supported by Roosevelt, Stalin and Churchill. It was Harris’s duty to execute their orders. Nor was Harris the architect of area bombing, a policy already in place when, in 1942, he became C-in-C of Bomber Command.

The Bombing Two Dauntlesses were launched with 12 percent less than maximum fuel, which would have critical impact later in the morning.

In 1970 the Quakers released a slim book entitled “Who Shall Live? Man’s Control over Birth and Death: A Report Prepared for the American Friends Service Committee” which was the result of a decision which the Family Planning Committee of the AFSC reached in December 1966 “to explore the issues involved in abortion.” That meeting in turn flowed from the November 1966 meeting that the AFSC had had with Planned Parenthood, and that meeting resulted from the setback the Quaker and Episcopalian forces for sexual liberation and eugenics in Philadelphia had suffered at the hands of Martin Mullen, when the governor capitulated to his demands and backed away from state-promoted birth control in August of the same year. As a result of their meeting with Planned Parenthood, the Quakers decided to “make a study of the availability of family planning services for medically indigent families in the city and to form an estimate as to the extent of the unmet need for such services. “Who Shall Live” was the fruit of this labor. “Who Shall Live?” is a graphic example of moral theology in the Quaker mode. It begins by announcing that “for 300 years members of the Society of Friends (Quakers) have been seekers after the truth” and concludes by admitting that they have been so far unsuccessful in their efforts. Where once people like Fox and Penn “thought of himself as created only a few thousand years ago,” the enlightened Quakers who wrote birth-control tracts in the 1960s “now know he is part of an evolutionary process that has been going on for billions of years. In that process he has arrived at a stage of knowledge and technology whereby he himself has the power, at least in part, to determine the direction in which he will evolve in the future.” Having decided that their religious forebears were wrong on just about everything because they didn’t understand science, the 1970 Quakers then give some sense of their own grasp of science as it applies to population issues. Looking at the world from outer space in 1968, the Quakers found it “incredible that 3.5 billion people should be living on that small spinning planet.” Taking their cue from Paul Ehrlich’s 1968 book “The Population Bomb” the Quakers concluded quite logically that if the planet cannot sustain 3.5 billion people in 1968, then it certainly couldn’t sustain 6 billion people in the year 2000. Unless drastic population-control measures are introduced immediately, dire consequences will follow. “Lamont C. Cole, who is a Professor of Ecology warns that we may one day find ourselves short of breathable air,” the Quakers announced breathlessly.

I had recently completed several extremely dangerous test flights in the F-4C trying to determine why eight aircraft flown by Tactical Air Command pilots had crashed while maneuvering at low altitude. In preparation for flying combat, F-4C aircraft were loaded with twenty-five-pound smoke bombs, and pilots dropped them on simulated targets in Air Force gunnery ranges. With a full load of fuel, the aircraft was being flown out of balance. As a result, the flight controls were so light that some pilots maneuvered the F-4C through airframe buffet and into a full stall, ending in loss of control and a crash.

flew toward them with the goal hanging over it. He glanced in front and the bridge-opening suddenly engulfed them, Dancer barreling between the metal rails and its hooves hitting wood. VrrrrOOOOOMMMMM! The SUV’s front bumper slammed the narrow bridge’s metal railings, snapping the bolts and curling the steel on both sides of the horse. Greyson felt the engine’s heat on his back and grimaced, bracing for impact. But then it happened – the goal’s net snagged the edge of the bridge rail and pulled the metal frame down like a clamp around the hood; the front wheels dug into the bridge and stopped, but the back of the vehicle carried the momentum and swung over top, the rear wheels spinning loudly as they pointed toward the falling rain. The speed carried the huge metal beast over the net and flung it at the children from behind. Dancer leapt from the bridge just as the SUV struck it like a colossal pendulum, exploding in a cluster bomb of splinters and a tidal wave of water. The shockwave of wood and water washed over them from behind, hitting them with stinging shrapnel as Dancer galloped with the wave into open field. Sydney pulled on the reins and Dancer curled to a stop. Breathing heavy with adrenaline,

Bomb the world with music, pizza and poetry you idiots, not Semtex, C4 and RDX.

During the Blitz of 1940–1941, for example, as German bombs rained down on London, isolated populations of Culex mosquitoes were confined to the air-raid tunnel shelters of the Underground Tube along with the city’s resilient citizens. These trapped mosquitoes quickly adapted to feed on mice, rats, and humans instead of birds and are now a species of mosquito distinct from their aboveground parental counterparts.* What should have taken thousands of years of evolution was accomplished by these mining sapper mosquitoes in less than one hundred years. “In another 100 years time,” jokes Richard Jones, former president of the British Entomological and Natural History Society, “there may be separate Circle Line, Metropolitan Line and Jubilee Line mosquito species in the tunnels below London.

If you really want to kill a libriomancer, hook a bomb up to a big red button and tell him not to press it.

Shiro can’t accuse me of looking out the windows all the time anymore because they have all been shuttered.  Watching the thick, boron nitride nanotube shutters slide down and lock into place over the big lounge windows was somewhat sobering.  But it’s not the least of what’s to come. Tonight we will enter our crew quarters where we will be stuck for six days while the space station performs the perihelion maneuver.  We will come within four solar radii—that’s a blistering 2,784,000 kilometers from the sun—and will accelerate to a mind-blowing speed of 341,546 kilometers per hour.  The maneuver itself will last just over twenty-nine hours as we travel all the way around the back side of the sun, but we need to be shielded from the worst of the solar radiation both on the approach and the departure. All the numbers make it sound simple, but the fact of the matter is this is by far the most dangerous part of our journey.  Despite NASA’s best efforts to shield the spacecraft, it very well might not have been enough.  We will be traveling around a star, an unbelievably immense body of power and energy producing the might of six trillion nuclear bombs every second.  (I would start thinking of myself as a bit of a brainiac, but I only know this because Commander Sykes told me.)  With flares and coronal mass ejections (some of which occur once every five days or more), we could easily be obliterated by an incoming blast of superheated gas.

I am surprised that General Ruin, when she was in zero gee in outer space, did not fall in the direction we call “space-down,” travelling in the same direction as the bombs dropped from bomber ships in reel one. We all know objects in outer space are pulled by gravity from the top of the screen to the bottom.