Oct Month Quotes

Of All Diseases. Of the Plague. Aug. 8 to Aug. 15 5,319 3,880 Aug. 15 to Aug. 22 5,668 4,237 Aug. 22 to Aug. 29 7,496 6,102 Aug. 29 to Sept. 5 8,252 6,988 Sept. 5 to Sept. 12 7,690 6,544 Sept. 12 to Sept. 19 8,297 7,165 Sept. 19 to Sept. 30 6,400 5,533 Sept. 27 to Oct. 3 5,728 4,929 Oct. 3 to Oct. 10 5,068 4,227 59,918 49,605 So that the gross of the people were carried off in these two months; for, as the whole number which was brought in to die of the plague was but 68,590, here is 154 50,000 of them, within a trifle, in two months: I say 50,000, because as there wants 395 in the number above, so there wants two days of two months in the account of time. 155

Lest you dismiss this as just another conspiracy theory, in November 1998 in an interview with The Observer, former US Ambassador to Chile Edward Korry told a remarkable story. Korry described still classified cables, and information censored in papers, but now available under the FOIA. He had served under Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon. He told how US companies from Cola to copper used the CIA as an international debt collection agency and investment security force. The Observer reported that the CIA's Oct. 1970 plot to overthrow Chile's Allende was the result of a plea for action a month earlier by PepsiCo chairman Kendall to the company's former lawyer, President Nixon.

SAMONIOS (Oct/Nov) “seed fall” (Samhain) DVMANN[OSIOS] (Nov/Dec) “dark month” RIVROS (Dec/Jan) “frost month” ANAGANTIO[S] (Jan/Feb) “stay at home” OGRONIOS (Feb/Mar) “ice month” CVTIOS (Mar/Apr) “shower of rain” also SONNOCINGOS “beginning of spring” “wind month” GIAMONIOS (Apr/May) “shoots month” (Beltaine)

SIMIVISONIOS (May/Jun) “mid spring” “bright month” EQVOS (Jun/Jul) “horse month” “time of the herds” ELEMBIV[IOS] (Jul/Aug) “stag month” “claim time” (Lugnasad) AEDRINIOS (Aug/Sep) “hot month” (Aed is “fire”) “arbitration time” CANTLOS (Sep/Oct) “song month” (harvest)

Cambridge, Oct. 28. 1811. "Dear Madam, "I am about to write to you on a silly subject, and yet I cannot well do otherwise. You may remember a cornelian, which some years ago I consigned to Miss ——, indeed gave to her, and now I am going to make the most selfish and rude of requests. The person who gave it to me, when I was very young, is dead, and though a long time has elapsed since we met, as it was the only memorial I possessed of that person (in whom I was very much interested), it has acquired a value by this event I could have wished it never to have borne in my eyes. If, therefore, Miss —— should have preserved it, I must, under these circumstances, beg her to excuse my requesting it to be transmitted to me at No. 8. St. James's Street, London, and I will replace it by something she may remember me by equally well. As she was always so kind as to feel interested in the fate of him that formed the subject of our conversation, you may tell her that the giver of that cornelian died in May last of a consumption, at the age of twenty-one, making the sixth, within four months, of friends and relatives that I have lost between May and the end of August. "Believe me, dear Madam, yours very sincerely, "Byron. "P.S. I go to London to-morrow.

Chunee, a once docile Asian elephant who lived at Exeter Change in London in the mid-nineteenth century, was killed when his annual attacks of sexual excitability made him too violent for the comfort of his keepers. His execution in March 1826 was gory and went on far too long. Chunee refused arsenic, three rifle shots only made him more upset, and repeated volleys of military muskets by a group of soldiers called in at the last minute couldn't finish the job. Eventually a keeper delivered the final blow with a sword. Gunda too was once an approachable star elephant at the Bronx Zoo just after the turn of the twentieth century. But he became, upon sexual maturity, most troublesome and dangerous, according to William Hornaday of the New York Zoological Society. His repeated, six-month bouts of erotic frenzy made him so violent that he was put under extreme restraints for half of every year. Debates over what to do with him captivated New Yorkers, and articles and editorials about his fate, the ethics of chaining him in place, and his possible execution peppered the New York press on the eve of World War I. In the end Gunda was shot point-blank in the elephant house by the famed elephant hunter and taxidermist Carl Akeley. His folded, dehydrated hide was taken to the American Museum of Natural History in New York, where it remains today, stored on a large metal shelf underneath the Planetarium. Gunda's execution for mad behavior was representative of many other elephants experiences, their rights to life hinging on how their sanity was perceived by the humans charged with caring for and confining them.

Outside of mistreatment, bouts of madness in male elephants may be, at least partially, explained by musth, a hormone-fueled period that can last weeks to months. A male in musth is considered more aggressive and stubborn, their penises may be erect, and a sticky substance leaks from the glands in their temples. Sometimes these males become violent; musth periods have been described as passing bouts of erotic madness. Chunee, a once docile Asian elephant who lived at Exeter Change in London in the mid-nineteenth century, was killed when his annual attacks of "sexual excitability" made him too violent for the comfort of his keepers. His execution in March 1826 was gory and went on far too long. Chunee refused arsenic, three rifle shots only made him more upset, and repeated volleys of military muskets by a group of soldiers called in at the last minute couldn't finish the job. Eventually a keeper delivered the final blow with a sword. Gunda too was once an approachable star elephant at the Bronx Zoo just after the turn of the twentieth century. But he became, upon sexual maturity, "most troublesome and dangerous," according to William Hornaday of the New York Zoological Society. His repeated, six-month "bouts of erotic frenzy" made him so violent that he was put under extreme restraints for half of every year. Debates over what to do with him captivated New Yorkers, and articles and editorials about his fate, the ethics of chaining him in place, and his possible execution peppered the New York press on the eve of World War I. In the end Gunda was shot point-blank in the elephant house by the famed elephant hunter and taxidermist Carl Akeley. His folded, dehydrated hide was taken to the American Museum of Natural History in New York, where it remains today, stored on a large metal shelf underneath the Planetarium. Gunda's execution for mad behavior was representative of many other elephants' experiences, their rights to life hinging on how their sanity was perceived by the humans charged with caring for and confining them.