Gear 5 Quotes

This is the Valdezinator, of course!’ He puffed out his chest. ‘It works by, um, translating your feelings into music as you manipulate the gears. It’s really meant for me, a child of Hephaestus, to use, though. I don’t know if you could –’ ‘I am the god of music!’ Apollo cried. ‘I can certainly master the Valdezinator. I must! It is my duty!

It wasn't aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service." He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep. Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?" Thanks, Apollo," I said. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry.

She'd strayed from the true way of things. First you set yourself to rights. And then your house. And then your corner of the sky. And after that... Well, then she didn't rightly know what happened next. But she hoped that after that the world would start to run itself a bit, like a gear-watch proper fit and kissed wit oil. That was what she hoped would happen.

Mouth in gear, brain stuck in neutral.

Butch was quiet for a time. Then he said, "I think that's why I like Jane." "huh?" "When you look at her? You actually see her, and when's the last time that's happened for you?" V geared himself up, then stared hard into Butch's eyes. "I saw you. even though it was wrong. I saw you." Shit, he sounded sad. Sad and...lonely. Which made him want to change the subject.

Listen up,” I said urgently. “It’s time to round up your gear. I’m gonna check in with Patrick, and then we’re getting the flock out of here.” Ha-ha.

You going to try the rest of your gear on?" he asked on an exhale. "Or you want to whine about your pants a little more?" "Don't make me flip you off." "Why would I deprive you of a favorite hobby?" [Vishous to Butch]

C’mon, Devyn, move already. You’re like watching ice freeze. You keep this pace up and my grandkids will be able to finish the game for you. (Young Adron) Shut the fuck up, Adron, I’m thinking. (Young Devyn) Yeah, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears. What? You strip a gear or something trying to think? Want me to call Vik over to take your turn for you? (Young Adron)

I won't scatter your sorrow to the heartless sea. I will always be with you.

Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armour was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear.

Droessen knew the properties of every kind of wood and paint and lacquer; he could finesse the gears of a clock until the spun with silent precision. And yet, though he could smile readily, charm easily, and play the part of a gentleman, he had never truly understood people or the workings of their steady-running but inconstant hearts.

He turned the crank handles, hoping the thing wouldn’t explode in his face. A few clear tones rang out-metallic yet warm. Leo manipulated the levers and gears. He recognized the song that sprang forth-the same wistful melody Calypso sang for him on Ogygia about homesickness and longing. But through the strings of the brass cone, the tune sounded even sadder, like a machine with a broken heart-the way Festus might sound if he could sing. Leo forgot Apollo was there. He played the song all the way through. When he was done, his eyes stung. He could almost smell the fresh-baked bread from Calypso’s kitchen. He could taste the only kiss she’d ever given him.

This was why a guy needed to wear sneakers. He needed to have the appropriate footwear ready to go when it was time to rush toward the rest of his life.

More importantly, a towel has immense psychological value. For some reason, if a strag (strag: nonhitchhiker) discovers that a hitchhiker has his towel with him, he will automatically assume that he is also in possession of a toothbrush, washcloth, soap, tin of biscuits, flask, compass, map, ball of string, gnat spray, wet-weather gear, space suit etc., etc. Furthermore, the strag will then happily lend the hitchhiker any of these or a dozen other items that the hitchhiker might accidentally have “lost.” What the strag will think is that any man who can hitch the length and breadth of the Galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.

wasn’t the aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

It was impossible not to see all the gears turning in his head. It was also easy to see the moment he stopped thinking and nodded yes anyway.

It wasn’t the aliens that first made us gear up for war; it was our fellow humans.

a pendant in the shape of an angel whose wings were clockwork cogs and gears;

La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashed, and I managed to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms. Defense mode, it warned. Defense mode.

I bounded over the gray, dusty terrain toward the huge dome of Conrad Bubble. Its airlock, ringed with red lights, stood distressingly far away. It’s hard to run with a hundred kilograms of gear on – even in lunar gravity.

It's her! Selene! Your Majesty!" Cinder took a step back and felt her serenity slough away, leaving behind the same tension she'd lived with for two long years. That feeling of being in the spotlight, of having responsibilities, of needing to meet expectations... "Why did you abdicate the throne?" someone yelled. And another: "How does it feel to be back on Earth?" And "Will you attend the Commonwealth ball again this year?" And "Is the upcoming Lunar-Earthen wedding a political statement? Do you want to say anything about the union? A loud gunshot blared across the gravel driveway. The journalists screamed and dispersed, some cowering behind the Rampion's landing gear, others rushing back to the safety of their own hovers. "I'll give you a statement," said Scarlet, reloading the shotgun in her arms as she marched toward them. She sent a piercing glare at the journalists who dared to peek out at her. "And the statement is, Leave my guests alone, you pitiful, news-starved vultures." With a frustrated huff, she looked up at Cinder, who had been joined by the others at the top of the ramp. Scarlet looked much the same as Cinder remembered her, only more frenzied. Her eyes had an annoyed, bewildered look to them as she gestured haplessly at the farmland behind her. "Welcome to France. Let's get you inside before they send out the android journalists -they're not as easy to scare off.

My dad says that if you love people and they love you back, and you’re happy for each other when things are good and help each other when things are bad, and you don’t even mind too much when people in-ev-it-a-bly—” she sounded out the word “—try to grind your gears, then it’s family. He says if you’re related to someone and they don’t treat you well, they don’t deserve to be called family, and you can meet someone as a total stranger and they can become the best family.

Imagine all of L.A. filled with windup men wandering empty-headed and waiting for orders and directions and purpose. That’s L.A. in a nutshell. A city of driven creatures, but no one is a hundred percent sure what they’re driven toward. Wealth. Fame. Power. Love. Revenge. These are all the obvious end points for the citizens of a spectral city, but none of them quite encompass a final goal. That’s more fragile. Something that slips away like smoke the moment it’s in your hands. It’s a moonshine cocktail of desperation and desire, the certainty that you can find perfection through sheer willpower and the cold terror that if you do reach the goal it will have twisted into something new. A new fevered need born of the search for this one. Searching for the next goal will breed another. And on and on. L.A. and Kill City full of Pinocchios with whirring gears for brains, all wanting to be real boys but sunk in the certainty that they’ll never become anything because they’re nothing. They came from nothing and are headed for a further and harder nothing.

Then someone knocks on the door, very clearly, four times. I pull away from Lena quickly. "What's that?" I say, dragging my forearm across my eyes, trying to get control of myself. Lena tries to pass it off as though she hadn't heard. Her face has gone white, her eyes wide and terrified. When the knocking starts up again, she doesn't move, just stays frozen where she is. "I thought nobody comes in this way." I cross my arms, watching Lena narrowly. There's a suspicious needling, pricking at some corner of my mind, but I can't quite focus on it. "They don't. I mean—sometimes—I mean, the delivery guys—" As she stammers excuses, the door opens, and he pokes his head in—the boy from the day Lena and I jumped the gate at the lab complex, just after we had our evaluations. His eyes land on me and he, too, freezes. At first I think there must be a mistake. He must have knocked on the wrong door. Lena will yell at him now, tell him to clear off. But then my mind grinds slowly into gear and I realize that no, he has just called Lena's name. This was obviously planned.

It does that to you, being a detective. You look at blank space and see gears turning, motives and cunning; nothing looks innocent any more. Most times when you prove away the gears, the blank space looks lovely, peaceful. But that arm: innocent, it looked just as dangerous.

He flipped through channels until he found reruns of NCIS. "Understanding murder is simple compared to understanding a woman, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. You been married a bunch of times. What advice would you give me?" He talked to the character on the television. Gibbs said, "Grab your gear.

According to Kensi Gounden, Here are five ways coaches can better meet millennial athletes where they are and help elevate them into better athletes and better people. 1. Give Them Time to Switch Gears 2. Help Them Communicate 3. Follow the 'Commercial Break' Rule 4. Know Their Favorites 5. Admit Your Mistakes

A body, he thought, was like a complex and complicated clock. Each one unique in its parts. Through study, one might discover the tricks of its mechanisms. Through trial and error, one might calibrate one’s touches on the gears and learn to make the clock tick. He drew his knuckles down her nape, along her spine. She shuddered

Fear so, sir. I’d be back in the fight, had we the gear.” If he were a Gold or Obsidian, he’d be back in the fight by month’s end, but we can’t spend our near-extinguished supply of prosthetics on regular infantry. Bad investment. I once thought the greatest sin of war was violence. It isn’t. The greatest sin is it requires good men to become practical.

when you count backwards, you mentally shift the gears in your mind. You interrupt your default thinking and do what psychologists call “assert control.” The counting distracts you from your excuses and focuses your mind on moving in a new direction. When you physically move instead of stopping to think, your physiology changes and your mind falls in line.

People are attracted to confident people, and there is a direct correlation between confidence and respectful curiosity.

Be proactive, not reactive—don't let someone else define your day in an email or phone call.

Entrepreneurs are everywhere. You don’t have to work in a garage to be in a startup. The concept of entrepreneurship includes anyone who works within my definition of a startup: a human institution designed to create new products and services under conditions of extreme uncertainty. That means entrepreneurs are everywhere and the Lean Startup approach can work in any size company, even a very large enterprise, in any sector or industry. 2. Entrepreneurship is management. A startup is an institution, not just a product, and so it requires a new kind of management specifically geared to its context of extreme uncertainty. In fact, as I will argue later, I believe “entrepreneur” should be considered a job title in all modern companies that depend on innovation for their future growth. 3. Validated learning. Startups exist not just to make stuff, make money, or even serve customers. They exist to learn how to build a sustainable business. This learning can be validated scientifically by running frequent experiments that allow entrepreneurs to test each element of their vision. 4. Build-Measure-Learn. The fundamental activity of a startup is to turn ideas into products, measure how customers respond, and then learn whether to pivot or persevere. All successful startup processes should be geared to accelerate that feedback loop. 5. Innovation accounting. To improve entrepreneurial outcomes and hold innovators accountable, we need to focus on the boring stuff: how to measure progress, how to set up milestones, and how to prioritize work. This requires a new kind of accounting designed for startups—and the people who hold them accountable.

A set of four Browning L9A1 automatic pistols complete with attachable silencers was perhaps the most important aspect of their gear for this mission. The weapons were standard issue in the British military, plus a few dozen other countries, and were basically just modified versions of a design that dated back to the 1930s. Old they might have been, but they were tried and true, and hopefully enough to see the group out of trouble if it came down to it

Big woman, Miss Eileen McKenna. Not fat, just big, the way some women get in their fifties after years of being the boss: all out front, hoisted up high and solid, ready to sail through anything and not get wet. I could see her in a break-time corridor, girls skittering away in front of her before they even knew she was coming. Lots of chin; lots of eyebrow. Iron hair and steely glasses. I don't know women's gear but I know quality, and the greeny tweed was quality; the pearls weren't from Penney's.

Happiness was attainable for anyone who had enough courage to reach for it. Just because I had to reach further than some only made it that much more appreciated. Today, in this moment, I was wrapping both hands around my happiness, grabbing it tight. Hopper’s

want to give him that security. I want to give him somewhere he absolutely belongs, you know? I want him to have my name. I want to be legally bound to him so if…” I cleared my throat. “If anything ever happens to me, everything I have will go to him without fight.” “And

Question 2: How Do You Want to Grow? When you watch how young children soak up information, you realize how deeply wired we are to learn and grow. Personal growth can and should happen throughout life, not just when we’re children. In this section, you’re essentially asking yourself: In order to have the experiences above, how do I have to grow? What sort of man or woman do I need to evolve into? Notice how this question ties to the previous one? Now, consider these four categories from the Twelve Areas of Balance: 5.​YOUR HEALTH AND FITNESS. Describe how you want to feel and look every day. What about five, ten, or twenty years from now? What eating and fitness systems would you like to have? What health or fitness systems would you like to explore, not because you think you ought to but because you’re curious and want to? Are there fitness goals you’d like to achieve purely for the thrill of knowing you accomplished them (whether it’s hiking a mountain, learning to tap dance, or getting in a routine of going to the gym)? 6.​YOUR INTELLECTUAL LIFE. What do you need to learn in order to have the experiences you listed above? What would you love to learn? What books and movies would stretch your mind and tastes? What kinds of art, music, or theater would you like to know more about? Are there languages you want to master? Remember to focus on end goals—choosing learning opportunities where the joy is in the learning itself, and the learning is not merely a means to an end, such as a diploma. 7.​YOUR SKILLS. What skills would help you thrive at your job and would you enjoy mastering? If you’d love to switch gears professionally, what skills would it take to do that? What are some skills you want to learn just for fun? What would make you happy and proud to know how to do? If you could go back to school to learn anything you wanted just for the joy of it, what would that be? 8.​YOUR SPIRITUAL LIFE. Where are you now spiritually, and where would you like to be? Would you like to move deeper into the spiritual practice you already have or try out others? What is your highest aspiration for your spiritual practice? Would you like to learn things like lucid dreaming, deep states of meditation, or ways to overcome fear, worry, or stress?

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Clingmans Dome in the middle of the park. Then, it’s downhill to Virginia, and people have told me Virginia is a cakewalk. I’ll learn soon enough that “easy” trail beyond the Smoky Mountains is as much a fantasy as my dream lunch with pizza…uh, I mean Juli, but for now I’ve convinced myself all will be well once I get through the Smokies. I leave Tray Mountain Shelter at 1:00 with ten miles to go. I’ve eaten the remainder of my food. I’ve been hiking roughly two miles per hour. Downhill is slower due to my sore knee. I need to get to Hiawassee by 6:00 p.m., the check-in deadline at Blueberry Patch Hostel, where my mail drop is waiting.5 I have little margin, so I decide to push for a while. I down a couple of Advil and “open it up” for the first time this trip. In the next hour I cover 3.5 miles. Another 1.5 miles and I am out of water, since I skipped all the side trails leading to streams. Five miles to go, and I’m running out of steam. Half the strands of muscle in my legs have taken the rest of the day off, leaving the other half to do all the work. My throat is dry. Less than a mile to go, a widening stream parallels the trail. It is nearing 6:00, but I can handle the thirst no longer. There is a five-foot drop down an embankment to the stream. Hurriedly I drop my pack and camera case, which I have clipped over the belt of my pack. The camera starts rolling down the embankment, headed for the stream. I lunge for it and miss. It stops on its own in the nook of a tree root. I have to be more careful. I’m already paranoid about losing or breaking gear. Every time I resume hiking after a rest, I stop a few steps down the trail and look back for anything I may have left behind. There’s nothing in my pack that I don’t need. Finally, I’m

My cold-weather gear left a lot to be desired: black maternity leggings under boot-cut maternity jeans, and a couple of Marlboro Man’s white T-shirts under an extra-large ASU sweatshirt. I was so happy to have something warm to wear that I didn’t even care that I was wearing the letters of my Pac-10 rival. Add Marlboro Man’s old lumberjack cap and mud boots that were four sizes too big and I was on my way to being a complete beauty queen. I seriously didn’t know how Marlboro Man would be able to keep his hands off of me. If I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the feed truck, I’d shiver violently. But really, when it came right down to it, I didn’t care. No matter what I looked like, it just didn’t feel right sending Marlboro Man into the cold, lonely world day after day. Even though I was new at marriage, I still sensed that somehow--whether because of biology or societal conditioning or religious mandate or the position of the moon--it was I who was to be the cushion between Marlboro Man and the cruel, hard world. That it was I who’d needed to dust off his shoulders every day. And though he didn’t say it, I could tell that he felt better when I was bouncing along, chubby and carrying his child, in his feed truck next to him. Occasionally I’d hop out of the pickup and open gates. Other times he’d hop out and open them. Sometimes I’d drive while he threw hay off the back of the vehicles. Sometimes I’d get stuck and he’d say shit. Sometimes we’d just sit in silence, shivering as the vehicle doors opened and closed. Other times we’d engage in serious conversation or stop and make out in the snow. All the while, our gestating baby rested in the warmth of my body, blissfully unaware of all the work that awaited him on this ranch where his dad had grown up. As I accompanied Marlboro Man on those long, frigid mornings of work, I wondered if our child would ever know the fun of sledding on a golf course hill…or any hill, for that matter. I’d lived on the ranch for five months and didn’t remember ever hearing about anyone sledding…or playing golf…or participating in any recreational activities at all. I was just beginning to wrap my mind around the way daily life unfolded here: wake up early, get your work done, eat, relax, and go to bed. Repeat daily. There wasn’t a calendar of events or dinner dates with friends in town or really much room for recreation--because that just meant double the work when you got back to work. It was hard for me not to wonder when any of these people ever went out and had a good time, or built a snowman. Or slept past 5:00 A.M.

Sam was about to travel to Asia with her boyfriend and she was fretting about what her backers would think if she released some of her new songs while she was 'on vacation'. She was worried that posting pictures of herself sipping a Mai Tai was going to make her look like an asshole. What does it matter? I asked her, where you are whether you're drinking a coffee, a Mai Tai or a bottle of water? I mean, aren't they paying for your songs so that you can... live? Doesn't living include wandering and collecting emotions and drinking a Mai Tai, not just sitting in a room writing songs without ever leaving the house? I told Sam about another songwriter friend of mine, Kim Boekbinder, who runs her own direct support website through which her fans pay her monthly at levels from $5 to $1,000. She also has a running online wishlist of musical gear and costumes kindof like a wedding registry, to which her fans can contribute money anytime they want. Kim had told me a few days before that she doesn't mind charging her backers during what she calls her 'staring at the wall time'. She thinks this is essential before she can write a new batch of songs. And her fans don't complain, they trust her process. These are new forms of patronage, there are no rules and it's messy, the artists and the patrons they are making the rules as they go along, but whether these artists are using crowdfunding (which is basically, front me some money so I can make a thing) or subscription services (which is more like pay me some money every month so that I can make things) or Patreon, which is like pay per piece of content pledge service (that basically means pay me some money every time I make a thing). It doesn't matter, the fundamental building block of all of these relationships boils down to the same simple thing: trust. If you're asking your fans to support you, the artist, it shouldn't matter what your choices are, as long as you're delivering your side of the bargain. You may be spending the money on guitar picks, Mai Tais, baby formula, college loans, gas for the car or coffee to fuel your all-night writing sessions. As long as art is coming out the other side, and you're making your patrons happy, the money you need to live (and need to live is hard to define) is almost indistinguishable from the money you need to make art. ... (6:06:57) ... When she posts a photo of herself in a vintage dress that she just bought, no one scolds her for spending money on something other than effects pedals. It's not like her fan's money is an allowance with nosy and critical strings attached, it's a gift in the form of money in exchange for her gift, in the form of music. The relative values are... messy. But if we accept the messiness we're all okay. If Beck needs to moisturize his cuticles with truffle oil in order to play guitar tracks on his crowdfunded record, I don't care that the money I fronted him isn't going towards two turntables or a microphone; just as long as the art gets made, I get the album and Beck doesn't die in the process.

Stay on Course Let your eyes look right on [with fixed purpose], and let your gaze be straight before you. Consider well the path of your feet, and let all your ways be established and ordered aright. Turn not aside to the right hand or to the left; remove your foot from evil. PROVERBS 4:25- 27 Jesus knew what His purpose was. He disciplined Himself to stay on course, living His life to fulfill that purpose for which He came. As Christians, we need to follow in His steps and focus on our purpose. We were bought with a price to live our lives in such a way that we become the salt of the earth, the light of the world (see Matthew 5). We are to lay down our selfish, self-centered lifestyles, and gear our lives toward doing something for the betterment of someone else. Then we will experience that “joy unspeakable, and full of glory” (1 Peter 1:8).

The system is a drill, or set of steps, that is accomplished in sequence when approaching any hazard: 1. Select course 2. Look behind, signal, adjust speed 3. Change gear 4. Look behind again and signal again 5. Use your horn 6. Look behind again 7. Maneuver and accelerate

In a hilly, long-course race, your focus must be on “smoothing” the course. The power on uphills must be restricted by gearing down and keeping your power output below your functional threshold power (FTP) (or even lower on longer climbs). The typical newcomer to Ironman-distance racing pushes far too hard on hills, especially early in the race, and pays the price later as high fatigue sets in. •  For short climbs of up to 5 min. duration, athletes should consider an effort ceiling of 90–100 percent of FTP. •  For longer climbs, consider an effort ceiling of 80–90 percent of FTP. •  For all climbs, it is very important to “save some watts” for cresting the apex of the climb. Novices tend to have their highest watts at the base of a climb. The intelligent athlete will have his or her highest watts over the top of a climb and accelerate down the backside. Experienced power users know that higher lactate levels can be cleared during the descent and after the rider has returned to cruising speed. •  On the downhill side, stop pedaling and coast in the aero position when your pedaling cadence becomes so high that you begin to breathe more heavily. If in doubt, coast the downhills so long as your speed is well above your average for the race.

Emissions of carbon dioxide reasonable commercial For those who do not know each other with the phrase "carbon footprint" and its consequences or is questionable, which is headed "reasonable conversion" is a fast lens here. Statements are described by the British coal climatic believe. "..The GC installed (fuel emissions) The issue has directly or indirectly affected by a company or work activities, products," only in relation to the application, especially to introduce a special procedure for the efforts of B. fight against carbon crank function What is important? Carbon dioxide ", uh, (on screen), the main fuel emissions" and the main result of global warming, improve a process that determines the atmosphere in the air in the heat as greenhouse gases greenhouse, carbon dioxide is reduced by the environment, methane, nitrous oxide and chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs more typically classified as). The consequences are disastrous in the sense of life on the planet. The exchange is described at a reasonable price in Wikipedia as "...geared a social movement and market-based procedures, especially the objectives of the development of international guidelines and improve local sustainability." The activity is for the price "reasonable effort" as well as social and environmental criteria as part of the same in the direction of production. It focuses exclusively on exports under the auspices of the acquisition of the world's nations to coffee most international destinations, cocoa, sugar, tea, vegetables, wine, specially designed, refreshing fruits, bananas, chocolate and simple. In 2007 trade, the conversion of skilled gross sales serious enough alone suffered due the supermarket was in the direction of approximately US $ 3.62 billion to improve (2.39 million), rich environment and 47% within 12 months of the calendar year. Fair trade is often providing 1-20% of gross sales in their classification of medicines in Europe and North America, the United States. ..Properly Faith in the plan ... cursed interventions towards closing in failure "vice president Cato Industries, appointed to inquire into the meaning of fair trade Brink Lindsey 2003 '. "Sensible changes direction Lindsay inaccurate provides guidance to the market in a heart that continues to change a design style and price of the unit complies without success. It is based very difficult, and you must deliver or later although costs Rule implementation and reduces the cost if you have a little time in the mirror. You'll be able to afford the really wide range plan alternatives to products and expenditures price to pay here. With the efficient configuration package offered in the interpretation question fraction "which is a collaboration with the Carbon Fund worldwide, and acceptable substitute?" In the statement, which tend to be small, and more? They allow you to search for carbon dioxide transport and delivery. All vehicles are responsible dioxide pollution, but they are the worst offenders? Aviation. Quota of the EU said that the greenhouse gas jet fuel greenhouse on the basis of 87% since 1990 years Boeing Company, Boeing said more than 5 747 liters of fuel burns kilometer. Paul Charles, spokesman for Virgin Atlantic, said flight CO² gas burned in different periods of rule. For example: (. The United Kingdom) Jorge Chavez airport to fly only in the vast world of Peru to London Heathrow with British Family Islands 6.314 miles (10162 km) works with about 31,570 liters of kerosene, which produces changes in only 358 for the incredible carbon. Delivery. John Vidal, Environment Editor parents argue that research on the oil company BP and researchers from the Department of Physics and the environment in Germany Wising said that about once a year before the transport height of 600 to 800 million tons. This is simply nothing more than twice in Colombia and more than all African nations spend together.

The 5 Elements of Effective Thinking (Edward B. Burger;Michael Starbird) - Your Highlight on page 17 | location 251-270 | Added on Monday, 6 April 2015 03:03:56 Understand simple things deeply The most fundamental ideas in any subject can be understood with ever-increasing depth. Professional tennis players watch the ball; mathematicians understand a nuanced notion of number; successful students continue to improve their mastery of the concepts from previous chapters and courses as they move toward the more advanced material on the horizon; successful people regularly focus on the core purpose of their profession or life. True experts continually deepen their mastery of the basics. Trumpeting understanding through a note-worthy lesson. Tony Plog is an internationally acclaimed trumpet virtuoso, composer, and teacher. A few years ago we had the opportunity to observe him conducting a master class for accomplished soloists. During the class, each student played a portion of his or her selected virtuosic piece. They played wonderfully. Tony listened politely and always started his comments, “Very good, very good. That is a challenging piece, isn’t it?” As expected, he proceeded to give the students advice about how the piece could be played more beautifully, offering suggestions about physical technique and musicality. No surprise. But then he shifted gears. He asked the students to play a very easy warm-up exercise that any beginning trumpet player might be given. They played the handful of simple notes, which sounded childish compared to the dramatically fast, high notes from the earlier, more sophisticated pieces. After they played the simple phrase, Tony, for the first time during the lesson, picked up the trumpet. He played that same phrase, but when he played it, it was not childish. It was exquisite. Each note was a rich, delightful sound. He gave the small phrase a delicate shape, revealing a flowing sense of dynamics that enabled us to hear meaning in those simple notes. The students’ attempts did not come close—the contrast was astounding. The fundamental difference between the true master and the talented students clearly occurred at a far more basic level than in the intricacies of complex pieces. Tony explained that mastering an efficient, nuanced performance of simple pieces allows one to play spectacularly difficult pieces with greater control and artistry. The lesson was simple. The master teacher suggested that the advanced students focus more of their time on practicing simple pieces intensely—learning to perform them with technical efficiency and beautiful elegance. Deep work on simple, basic ideas helps to build true virtuosity—not just in music but in everything. ==========

There are two types of people—responsive and resistant. You hire responsive ones and fire the resistant. Responsive people are self-aware and have a consciousness that is not steeped in victim mentality, but rather in responsibility. They understand that they are responsible for their actions and will make amends when they have clearly overstepped their bounds.

Resistant people, on the other hand, are exhausting. They hate to admit their mistakes and will more easily pass the blame than admit a fault. Resistance is basically pride, which shows itself as insecurity. These people do not want to appear weak, so they would rather exasperate others than get to the peace that comes from admission. Resistance will fight rather than resolve, blame rather than admit, and run away rather than run toward reconciliation.

Influence rises when people admit their mistakes.

All self-preservation is based on fear, which prevents us from being fully present with others because we are consumed with ourselves and our own insecurity.

Humble leaders are responsive and therefore have more time to be present with others as they are more focused on serving others than on being served.

Age: 11 Height: 5’3 Favourite animal: Tawny owl   Sometimes considered a smarty-pants by her friends and enemies, Beatrix has always adored studying hard. Being in school reminds her how many interesting things she could learn about the world, everything from how volcanoes are made to the languages of people in hundreds of countries, to the way the planets and stars occupy deep space all across the universe. She has a brain that is geared towards asking important questions and then trying to answer them, which makes her perfect for the Cluefinders Club.   Beatrix loves to read, especially the works of Arthur Conan Doyle, who wrote about the great detective Sherlock Holmes, and the romantic fiction of Charlotte Bronte. Although she is a very pretty girl, she does not listen to any compliments. She likes to think that beauty is only skin-deep, and that people would be better to compliment her intelligence or determination. So far, only her best friends and her teacher, Mister Faraday, have thought to do this. Her favourite animal is the owl, especially the tawny owl, which is often portrayed as being a wise and knowledgeable bird.

To socially connect with others is to learn how to be present and to be curious about what they are interested in and what they like to do.

To socially connect with others, learn to be interested before being interesting.

if in your busyness you treat people as if they are not as important as your work, then you lose respect over time and gain a reputation for being unapproachable.

Learning to be present is an art and a science. If you do it well it will dramatically affect those around you.

most moderate stress is self-induced, with most of it happening primarily because of a lack of self-awareness or a lack of being present

When you can begin to live your life learning to support others based on who you are and who they are, then you have begun to master what it means to be a leader, and your influence will begin to soar.

The life of the disconnected person is frustrating for both the individual as well as those around them.

it is not about how open the door is, but rather how present the person inside that office is or isn

Our lack of being present is often about us tuning others out because what they are saying isn't interesting, which in itself is filled with pride and arrogance. We rarely tune out interesting conversation. We normally listen to things that are compelling. The key is being respectful even when we couldn't care less and the content is less than interesting.

When our intent is pure we will use the power to empower, not overpower.

Avoidance is a tactic of those who are either insecure and don't know how to communicate or arrogant and believe they are too important for “small talk.

When you are truly present you are giving yourself to another person for a period of time. You are giving your best for their best.

Deborah called the dispatcher and said, “I’ve got the Aldovar girl. I’m taking her home,” and Samantha muttered, “Big whoopee-shit.” Deborah just glanced at her with something that looked like a rictus but was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile, and then she put the car in gear, and I had a little over half an hour to sit in the backseat and picture my life splintering into a million decorative shards.

Pamela shook her head as she swiveled the computer screen so Noah could see the grainy black-and-white video of a group of men in SWAT gear approaching a box. Soon there was a bomb-bot poking the thing, and finally a new man in protective gear picked it up. “Harley is being stalked by someone her

If you want to connect more effectively with others, then watch your language.

If you start off a relationship in a negative position it is always hard to get to a strong positive impression.

Connectivity is directly related to peace, productivity, and personal happiness.

The key is to know yourself, your tendencies and patterns, so that you can lead yourself to act in a manner worthy of your values and to meet the needs of those around you for their benefit as well as yours.

Being present is an art form. People can actually learn how to connect well.

Relational intelligence is the future competitive advantage for leaders. In the new world the capacity to establish, develop, and maintain key relationships both inside and outside your organization is going to become the primary currency of leadership influence.

people move away from those who are not present to others who have more life and less drama.

People run over other people when they are not present or focused on the person or people they are with in the moment. This is where most influence is undermined as people get tired of getting run over. Eventually people move away from those who are not present to others who have more life and less drama.

When a person's agenda is the driving force of their life, then they are going to run over people most of the time unless they learn to use their brakes and downshift.

They quickly started passing from hand to hand and operated something like currency. The government first tried to forbid their use, then a year or two later—and this became a familiar pattern in China—when it realized that it could not suppress them, switched gears and established a bureau empowered to issue such notes themselves.

Templar tactical gear that included dark ceramic body armor worn under black jumpsuits of flame retardant material without markings or insignia, lightweight Kevlar tactical helmets with built–in communications gear along with audio and video recording devices, and military style combat boots. For this mission a set of I2 goggles had also been supplied; the image intensifier headgear – what most people called night vision goggles – would allow them to see in all but total darkness. Each man was armed with a Heckler & Koch MP5 SD submachine gun, a HK Mark 23 .45 caliber handgun and the holy sword they’d been given at their investiture into the Templar ranks.

and egg from her fingers she wiped her hands and went out to the café. ‘You’re not running in this hideous weather, are you?’ She took in her friend’s running gear, the autumn long-sleeved top now with the addition of a body warmer, a knitted hat, and gloves. ‘Can’t always use weather as an excuse,’ she puffed, a faint sound still coming from the earbuds that hung waiting around her neck. ‘I’d get far too lazy if I did.’ ‘Well, I’m in awe,’ Jo admitted. ‘It’s so cosy in here.’ Jess took in the twinkly lights which stood out all the more when it was so miserable outside. ‘And the tree smells beautiful.’ She sniffed in the scent that would soon be mingled with the smell of baking. ‘I almost don’t want to venture outside again, but I must, so it’s a banana smoothie to go for me, please.’ ‘Coming right up.’ Jo went out to the kitchen and chopped the fruit, poured milk, drizzled honey and had the takeaway drink whizzed up in no time. Jess was perusing the postcards board by the time Jo came out with her smoothie and a paper straw to push through the lid on top. She was repinning the card that had come today. Locals were invited to read the cards at their leisure – it was a big part of the community feel in the café. ‘Harry seems to be having fun,’ she said, closing her eyes briefly at the refreshing first sip of her drink. ‘It was sitting on the mat this morning when I got here.’ It had fallen through the letterbox at the bottom of the door and landed writing side up and Jo’s heart had skipped a beat when she unlocked the door to the café, hoping with everything she had that the card was from her secret admirer, but when she’d seen Harry’s name she’d shaken away the thought, glad she could pin up a card from someone who would always be a friend. She was so pleased he’d found a fresh start and seemed happy and she was even happier she hadn’t let nostalgia

GROW THE ACTION HABIT Practice these key points: 1. Be an activationist. Be someone who does things. Be a doer, not a don’t-er. 2. Don’t wait until conditions are perfect. They never will be. Expect future obstacles and difficulties and solve them as they arise. 3. Remember, ideas alone won’t bring success. Ideas have value only when you act upon them. 4. Use action to cure fear and gain confidence. Do what you fear, and fear disappears. Just try it and see. 5. Start your mental engine mechanically. Don’t wait for the spirit to move you. Take action, dig in, and you move the spirit. 6. Think in terms of now. Tomorrow, next week, later, and similar words often are synonymous with the failure word, never. Be an “I’m starting right now” kind of person. 7. Get down to business—pronto. Don’t waste time getting ready to act. Start acting instead. 8. Seize the initiative. Be a crusader. Pick up the ball and run. Be a volunteer. Show that you have the ability and ambition to do. Get in gear and go!

There’s a way of triumphant accomplishment that comes from lowering dead or unwanted trees. (Not to say the joys of yelling, But that feeling fades pretty quickly once you look down and see unsightly—and very stubborn—Stump milling. If you hire a landscaper or arborist to chop down the trees, they typically leave the stumps behind, unless you pay a further fee. Stump-removal prices vary widely across the country and are supported by the diameter of the stump, but it typically costs between $100 and $200 to get rid of a stump that’s 24 inches in diameter or smaller. And that’s a good price if you’ve only got one stump to get rid of . But, if you've got two or more stumps, you'll save a substantial amount of cash by renting a stump grinder. A gas-powered stump grinder rents for about $100 per day, counting on the dimensions of the machine. And if you share the rental expense with one or two stump-plagued neighbors, renting is certainly the more economical thanks to going. you will need a vehicle with a trailer hitch to tow the machine, which weighs about 1,000 pounds. Or, for a nominal fee, most rental dealers will drop off and devour the grinder. To remove the 30-in.-dia. scarlet maple stump, I rented a Vermeer Model SC252 stump grinder. it's a strong 25-hp engine and 16-in.-dia. cutting wheel that's studded with 16 forged-steel teeth. this is often a loud, powerful machine with a classy mechanism , but it's surprisingly simple to work . But, before you crank up the motor and begin grinding away, it’s important to prep the world for the stumpectomy. Start by ensuring all kids and pets are indoors, or if they’re outdoors, keep them well faraway from the world and under constant adult supervision. Then, use a round-point shovel or garden mattock to get rid of any rocks from round the base of the stump [1]. this is often important because if the spinning cutting wheel hits a rock, it can shoot out sort of a missile and cause serious injury. Plus, rocks can dull or damage the teeth on the cutting wheel, which are expensive to exchange. Next, check the peak of the stump. If it’s protruding out of the bottom quite 6 inches approximately, use a sequence saw to trim it as on the brink of the bottom as possible [2]. While this step isn’t absolutely necessary, it'll prevent quite little bit of time because removing 6 inches of the Stump grinding with a chainsaw is far quicker than using the grinder. After donning the acceptable safety gear, start the grinder and drive it to within 3 feet of the stump. Use the hydraulic lever to boost the cutting wheel until it’s a couple of inches above the stump. Slowly drive the machine forward to position the wheel directly over the stump's front edge [3]. Engage the facility lever to start out the wheel spinning, then slowly lower it about 3 in. in to the stump grinding. Next, use the hydraulic lever to slowly swing the wheel from side to side to filter out all the wood within the cutting range. Then, raise the wheel, advance the machine forward a couple of inches, and repeat the method. While operating the machine, always stand at the instrument panel, which is found near the rear of the machine and well faraway from the cutting wheel. Little by little, continue grinding and advancing your way through to the opposite side of the stump. Raise the cutting wheel, shift into reverse, and return to the starting spot. Repeat the grinding process until the surface of the Stump removal is a minimum of 4 in. below the extent of the encompassing ground. At now, you'll drive the grinder off to at least one side, far away from the excavated hole. Now, discover all the wood chips and fill the crater with screened topsoil [4]. (The wood chips are often used as mulch in flowerbeds and around trees and shrubs.) Lightly rake the soil, opened up a good layer of grass seed, then rake the seeds into the soil [5]. Water the world and canopy the seeds with mulch hay.

No, I wasn’t. But I saw the video of what happened between Tripp and that girl.” Tripp’s friend does a double-take. “That’s right. Video. What I saw and heard was clear, and it was completely unacceptable. Not just for anyone who wants to be on my team, but anybody. Any male. Any human being. You’re on my team, I expect you to get your ass in gear when you see something like that and stop it. Not sit back and watch it or laugh about it or go online and spew a bunch of shit about the girl. Be a man. Do the right thing. Stuff like this makes us all look bad and makes women fear us all. You want a female to like you, so that maybe she’ll be your girlfriend? It won’t happen if she’s afraid of you.” Coach says he considered canceling our entire basketball season, which brings gasps from the team, but he’s decided to give us one more chance. We’ll forfeit our first three home games. If he finds out about anybody doing anything else like this, he’s off the team. No more chances. No one who treats girls this way will play for him.

Crystal and her friend had taken root behind Aidrian with Erin and Mandy behind Tristan. They looked like they were facing off in a hockey match. The only thing missing was the puck, hockey sticks, the ref, and all the other hockey gear. Never mind. My

He’d been all geared up for a night alone with Lila, fulfilling her fantasies before he popped the question when she was too sated to say no. He hoped.

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Tech looked closer, noticing God standing there with Day and… oh… Hart. Tech told Steele, Ruxs, and Green to go ahead. They looked confused but didn’t question him. When they were out of earshot, Tech stood there alone with Free since most everyone was crowding around the star in the room. “That’s SWAT Captain Hart and his lieutenant, Roberts. I know he looks intimidating from here, especially in his gear, but he’s really a great guy. God and Day use his assistance when we have a big bust. There’s no reason to be nervous. He’s extremely sweet and surprisingly gentle. There are female officers who actually prefer to train with only him,” Tech said, rubbing Free’s arm. “I’m sorry. I’m acting insane. I know we’re in a room full of cops, but you understand, right?” “I know your dad was an asshole cop who abused his authority, but you won’t find that around God or Day.” Tech looked into Free’s eyes. “I wouldn’t’ve called you here if I wasn’t hundred percent sure you’d be safe. You’ve commented about my job before, how special it is. Well, here’s your chance to have that. You can do my job even better than me, but we won’t broadcast that.” Tech gave Free another sad smile. “Don’t let your dad continue to control your life. You’ve beaten him already, it’s time you moved forward, Free.” Free closed his eyes and took a long breath and turned to head towards their department with his back straight and his eyes focused. Tech was proud of him already. He’d come a long way. Tech

Warning signs went unheeded as the ferocious kisses continued, kicking Trevor’s need into high gear. But the unfamiliar prickle of Edgard’s beard on his cheek began to rouse him from that dark desire. Coupled with the low-pitched masculine moans—not Chassie’s feminine sighs—and Trevor broke away, knocking Edgard’s hands free. “Stop. No.” “Yes,” Edgard grabbed Trevor’s shirt. “This is why I’m here. Because it’s still there, Trevor. This need didn’t go away just because I did.” “It don’t matter.” “It should. God. Please let it matter.” “Ed—” “Don’t. Just…don’t.” Edgard gently rested his forehead against Trevor’s and retreated into silence. The heat of their bodies, the cold air, the confusion, the passion, the anger, the guilt, all swirled in Trevor’s head until he didn’t know which way was up. Unable to squirm either closer or away, damn near unable to breathe, Trevor squeezed his eyes shut and gave in, leaning against Edgard, just for a moment. Finally he dredged up a semblance of sanity. “I love her, Ed. I’m not with her because she was my second choice.” “I know. Why do you think it hurts me so bad, meu amore?” My love. That single, familiar endearment could prove to be his undoing. Another pause lingered before Trevor said, “I can’t do this. I swear to f**king God I cannot do this again.” “We’ll figure something out this time.” “No.” “Look at me.” Trevor shook his head. “Goddammit. Look. At. Me.” Heart thumping crazily, Trevor pulled back and caught the golden gaze that’d haunted his dreams since the day they’d gone from friends to something more. Edgard curled one hand around Trevor’s face, keeping the other fisted in his shirt. “Tell me how to fix this.” “We can’t and talkin’ about it ain’t gonna change nothin’.” “We were always better at f**king away our problems rather than talking them out, eh?” No hint of a smile graced either of their faces.

How did you meet him?” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Promise you won’t think me an utter nerd?” She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, no hope of that, honestly,” he admitted. “I was playing World of Warcraft online in London and met Fezza on a quest. We just hit it off.” “He helped you?” “God, no. He killed me and stole all my gear,” he said, surprising her, laughter bubbling to the surface. “Later on, I told him off and he felt a bit sorry, so he offered to let me join him on a mission in order to gain new, better gear, since apparently mine was crap. We wound up playing a lot, and then comparing other games, and emailing.

As the 2019 elections were approaching, the Modi government felt the need to appear less pro-rich and more pro-poor again. But the union budget passed in February was somewhat a missed opportunity so far as the peasants were concerned. No loan waivers were announced in their favor, simply an enhanced interest subvention on loans and an annual income support of Rs 6,000 (80 USD)—6 percent of a small farmer’s yearly income—to all farmers’ households owning two hectares or fewer.131 In fact, the union budget was once again more geared to pleasing the middle class. The income tax exemption limit jumped from Rs 200,000 (2,667 USD) to 250,000 (3,333 USD), and the income tax rate up to Rs 5 lakh (6,667 USD) was reduced from 10 to 5 percent. The income tax on an income of Rs 10 lakh (13,333 USD) dropped from Rs 110,210 (1,470 USD) to Rs 75,000 (1,000 USD).132 The poor were doubly affected by the fiscal policy of the Modi government in 2014–2019: not only did the tax cuts in favor of the middle class, the abolition of the wealth tax, and, more importantly, the reduction of the corporate tax rates have to be offset by increased indirect taxes, but the stagnation of fiscal resources did not allow the government of India to spend more on public education and public health—all the more so as Narendra Modi wanted to reduce the fiscal deficit. First of all, tax collection diminished. The exchequer “lost” Rs 1.45 lakh crore (1.933 billion USD) in the reduction of the corporate tax, for instance. That was the main reason why gross direct tax collection dipped 4.92 percent133 in 2019–2020, a fiscal year during which gross tax collections were less than those in 2018–2019. Tax collections had never declined on a year-on-year basis since 1961–1962.134 Second, government expenditures diminished. The central government reduced its spending on education from 0.63 percent of GDP in 2013–2014 to 0.47 percent in 2017–2018. The trend was marginally better on the public health front, where the Center’s spending declined from 0.37 percent of GDP in 2013–2014 to 0.34 percent in 2015–2016, before rising again to reach 0.38 percent in 2016–2017.

How is anyone supposed to buy fishing gear from me when I look all bruised?”“Tell them you got into a fight with a shark?” I supply helpfully.

I’ll give it my best. I will not be a liability, but I won’t be cannon fodder either. Don’t make me tell you all to fuck off. I don’t like saying ‘fuck off,’ much less actually meaning that you can fuck off, but if fuck off you must, then fuck off you will. I consider you all to be my friends, of which I don’t have very many. Don’t make me tell you to fuck off. It would hurt me more than you fuck-offs.” Rivka’s mouth fell open. Red stared. Lindy smiled. Jay and Floyd giggled. Lindy was the first to speak. “You fit right in, Doc. Dump your gear, and we’ll set you up with body armor.” “Chaz,” Rivka started, “take us out, please. Destination is Elgar 7.” “Body armor?” Tyler asked. “Body armor,” Red confirmed.

The cowboy in the middle has nothing to do. No responsibility, except to avoid the odd scrotal meeting with the gear shift.

if there really is no way you can win, you never say it out loud. You assess why, change strategy, adjust tactics, and keep fighting and pushing till either you’ve gotten a better outcome or you’ve died. Either way, you never quit when your country needs you to succeed. As Team 5 was shutting down the workup and loading up its gear, our task unit’s leadership flew to Ramadi to do what we call a predeployment site survey. Lieutenant Commander Thomas went, and so did both of our platoon officers in charge. It was quite an adventure. They were shot at every day. They were hit by IEDs. When they came home, Lieutenant Commander Thomas got us together in the briefing room and laid out the details. The general reaction from the team was, “Get ready, kids. This is gonna be one hell of a ride.” I remember sitting around the team room talking about it. Morgan had a big smile on his face. Elliott Miller, too, all 240 pounds of him, looked happy. Even Mr. Fantastic seemed at peace and relaxed, in that sober, senior chief way. We turned over in our minds the hard realities of the city. Only a couple weeks from now we would be calling Ramadi home. For six or seven months we’d be living in a hornet’s nest, picking up where Team 3 had left off. It was time for us to roll. In late September, Al Qaeda’s barbaric way of dealing with the local population was stirring some of Iraq’s Sunni tribal leaders to come over to our side. (Stuff like punishing cigarette smokers by cutting off their fingers—can you blame locals for wanting those crazies gone?) Standing up for their own people posed a serious risk, but it was easier to justify when you had five thousand American military personnel backing you up. That’ll boost your courage, for sure. We were putting that vise grip on that city, infiltrating it, and setting up shop, block by block, house by house, inch by inch. On September 29, a Team 3 platoon set out on foot from a combat outpost named Eagle’s Nest on the final operation of their six-month deployment. Located in the dangerous Ma’laab district, it wasn’t much more than a perimeter of concrete walls and concertina wire bundling up a block of residential homes. COP Eagle’s

Sharavin sliced open one of the tent’s canvas walls. The interior recalled the Mary Celeste. No hikers, but all their gear undisturbed. Packs and jackets spread over the floor in preparation for sleeping, personal items next to bedrolls, boots lining the entrance.

In my experience, many young people are intensely ritual animals without realizing it. And when they are introduced to habit-forming practices of Christian faith, invited into ways of following Jesus that are ancient and tested, their faith is given a second life. They receive the disciplines not as burdensome duties but as gifts that channel their devotion and shape their faith. Instead of relying on their own internal piety and willpower (which is a wrong-headed way to think about discipleship anyway), young people experience historic practices of prayer and devotion as gifts of grace in themselves, a way that the Spirit meets them where they are. To receive the Psalms as the prayer book of the church is to have found a buried treasure right in the middle of the Bible.5 Regimens of devotion like the Divine Office or The Divine Hours provide grooves for their faith to gear into, a tangible, historic way to align their desires with the grain of the universe.6 The emphasis is no longer on their performance or expression; instead, such practices cultivate a posture of grateful reception of the Spirit’s action.

a marked change occurred between 2019 and 2020. The dual crises of the pandemic and Black Lives Matter protests ran slam into the twin dangers of Q-Anon and the consolidation of the Trump paramilitary. In 2019, there were sixty-five incidents of domestic terrorism or attempted violence, but in the run-up to the election in 2020, that number nearly doubled, according to a study by the Center for Strategic and International Studies. Twenty-one plots were disrupted by law enforcement.5 Violent extremists in the United States and terrorists in the Middle East have remarkably similar pathways to radicalization. Both are motivated by devotion to a charismatic leader, are successful at smashing political norms, and are promised a future racially homogeneous paradise. Modern American terrorists are much more akin to the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) than they are to the old Ku Klux Klan. Though they take offense at that comparison, the similarities are quite remarkable. Most American extremists are not professional terrorists on par with their international counterparts. They lack operational proficiency and weapons. But they do not lack in ruthlessness, targets, or ideology. However, the overwhelming number of white nationalist extremists operate as lone wolves. Like McVeigh in the 1990s and others from the 1980s, they hope their acts will motivate the masses to follow in their footsteps. ISIS radicals who abandon their homes and immigrate to the Syria-Iraq border “caliphate” almost exclusively self-radicalize by watching terrorist videos. The Trump insurgents are radicalizing in the exact same way. Hundreds of tactical training videos easily accessible on social media show how to shoot, patrol, and fight like special forces soldiers. These video interviews and lessons explaining how to assemble body armor or make IEDs and extolling the virtues of being part of the armed resistance supporting Donald Trump fill Facebook and Instagram feeds. Some even call themselves the “Boojahideen,” an English take on the Arabic “mujahideen,” or holy warrior. U.S. insurgents in the making often watch YouTube and Facebook videos of tactical military operations, gear reviews, and shooting how-tos. They then go out to buy rifles, magazines, ammunition, combat helmets, and camouflage clothing and seek out other “patriots” to prepare for armed action. This is pure ISIS-like self-radicalization. One could call them Vanilla ISIS.

I’m standing in the main chamber. Facing myself. This is a very simple simulation. I didn’t change my clothes or my hair or even the room’s carpeted floors. I didn’t do anything at all except create a duplicate of myself and hand him a gun. He won’t stop staring at me. One. He cocks his head. “Are you ready?” A pause. “Are you scared?” My heart kicks into gear. He lifts his arm. Smiles a little. “Don’t worry,” he says. “It’s almost over now.” Two. “Just a little longer and I’ll leave,” he says, pointing the gun directly at my forehead. My palms are sweating. My pulse is racing. “You’ll be all right,” he lies. “I promise.” Three. Boom.

Have we got a room for them?” “We have. But not here. On the kibbutz. A couple of their girls have taken them over. Reliable people. They will be right.” “They may well need be. Have we got time to get up this afternoon? What time is nightfall here?” “You’ve got two hours, Thomas.” “Not enough by the time we’ve changed into flying gear and got back here. Cockpit familiarisation only. How are you off for ground crew?” “Two flight sergeants and a sufficiency of aircraftmen of all grades. All of them have worked Hurricanes before. Three of them were with you, in fact, in the Desert. That’s one area in which we have not been let down. I have painted the planes up in three Flights, numbers and colours. Serial numbers are on as well. You are Red One, I presume?” “I am. Jack is Green One. Patrick Red Two. Michael, Blue Two.” “Got you. Let’s get you sitting in. We can get the belts right and adjust the seats. I’ll put a parachute pack in each.” The smell was immediately familiar – glycol and petrol predominating, a faint overlay of sweat. Thomas sat in and instinctively set the seat just so and twitched the belts exactly as he wanted them. He glanced at the controls and examined the screen in front of him for specks and cracks. “Flight! There’s a grease smear lower left and what looks like a row of paint specks across the right.” “Let me see… Got ‘em, sir! Balderstone, you ‘orrible object! You was told to clean the screen and polish it good!” “Told us to get it done afore us were finished, Sarge. Ain’t finished yet!” “You bloody well will be if this screen is not perfect one hour from now!” “Yes, Sarge.” “A useless object, sir, but he was a window cleaner before he got called up. One thing, the only thing, he can do, is clean a screen.” “Get him to work them all then, Flight. The screens must be spotless, you know that. A Me at two thousand yards looks like nothing more than a spot.” “Knows that, sir. Not to worry, sir. Mr Mason-Holmes a little bit new, is he, sir?” “Green as grass. Don’t worry about him. Either he’ll learn quickly or…” “Exactly, sir. He’ll be a veteran at the end of the week or we won’t have to concern ourselves about him.” Thomas nodded. They looked at Patrick and shrugged simultaneously. “Now then, sir. We have twelve ground crews exactly, one for each pilot, and likely one spare by the end of the week for rotation purposes.” “I’ll leave that with you, Flight. Don’t let your people get too tired. If needs be, I can ground

But you looked so hot, all decked out in your fire gear, with the little orange puff ball cuddled against your big, manly chest! Ovaries and movaries exploded all over New York.