Short Tubing Quotes

Rowdy, hopped-up college kids pass us in an endless, noisy blur like they're being mass produced or squeezed out of a tube - guys skulking in their T-shirts and cargo shorts, girls in low-slung jeans and flip-flops, pimples and breasts and tattoos and lipstick and legs and bra straps, and cigarettes; a colorful, sexy melange. I feel old and tired and I just want to be them again, want to be young and stupid, filled with angst and attitude and unbridled lust. Can I have a do-over, please? I swear to God I'll make a real go of it this time.

She was a strange, unsettled planet that had had once sustained life. She was a language that I had thought I almost understood even though I couldn't speak it. She hadn't always been this way. She used to wear high knee socks and short shorts and tube tops, and travel everywhere on roller skates.

There's your problem," Leo announced. Jason scratched his head. "Uh.... what are we looking at?" Leo thought it was pretty obvious, but Piper looked confused too. "Okay," Leo sighed, " you want the full explanation or the short explanation?" "Short," Piper and Jason said in unison. Leo gestured to the empty core. "The syncopator goes here. It's a multi-access gyro-valve to regulate flow. The doxen glass tubes on the outside? Those are filled with powerful,dangerous stuff. That glowing red one is Lemnos fire from my dad's forges. This murky stuff here? That's water from the River Styx. The stuff in the tubes is going to power the ship, right? Like radioactive rods in a nuclear reactor. But the mix ratio has to be controlled, and the timer is already operational.... That means without the syncopator, this stuff is all going to vent into the chamber at the same time, in sixty-five minutes. At that point, we'll get a very nasty reaction." Jason and Piper stared at him. Leo wondered if he'd been speaking English. Sometimes when he was agitated he slipped into Spanish, like his mom used to do in her workshop. But he was pretty sure he'd used English. "Um..." Piper cleared her throat." Could you make the short explanation shorter?" Leo palm-smacked his forehead. "Fine. One hour. Fluids mix. Bunker goes ka-boom. One square mile of forest tuns into a smoking crater." "Oh," Piper said in a small voice. "Can't you just..... turn it off?" "Gee, I didn't think of that!" Leo said. "Let me just hit this switch and - No, Piper. I can't turn it off.

My customary exercise consists of a short stroll from the Temple tube to Equity Court, and rising to object to impertinent questions put by prosecuting counsel.

One day, I decided to be an island. I took off my clothes and walked into the sea, then floated there, bobbing along with the tide, suspended by my inflatable tube and water wings.

In short, the age of the pulp magazine was the last in which youngsters, to get their primitive material, were forced to be literate. Now that is gone, and the youngsters have their glazed eyes fixed on the television tube. The result is clear. True literacy is becoming an arcane art, and the nation is steadily "dumbing down".

How do you find a name?" "In this case, on a shampoo bottle. It's one of the ingredients; Sodium Laureth Sulphate. He thought it was a beautiful word and sounded like a name." "He's right." "Mum didn't think so. He swears he told her at the time where it came from, and maybe he did, but she was too ill to remember. I was seven when she found out, and then she hit the roof. 'You named our daughter after a chemical!' That kind of thing." "I still think it's a cool name," said Sam, and I could hear the smile in his voice. It was a soft voice, too. I liked it. "And very beautiful," he added. "Thank you," I said, feeling a little warm inside. "And that's why I have such a boring name," said Benjamin. "Oh, hey," said Sam. "That's a cool name, too." "No, it's not," said Benjamin. "There are two Bens in my class. Mum said she was going to choose my name when I was born. Dad wasn't allowed. So I got a boring name. But that's why Stan's called Stan." "Because you wanted him to have a boring name, too?" "Stan's not a boring name. It's short for Stannous." "Stannous?" "Stannous Chloride," I said. "It's a chemical. It was on a tube of toothpaste." Sam laughed. "Mum hit the roof," said Benjamin, proudly.

IN 1953, STANLEY Miller, a graduate student at the University of Chicago, took two flasks—one containing a little water to represent a primeval ocean, the other holding a mixture of methane, ammonia, and hydrogen sulphide gases to represent Earth’s early atmosphere—connected them with rubber tubes, and introduced some electrical sparks as a stand-in for lightning. After a few days, the water in the flasks had turned green and yellow in a hearty broth of amino acids, fatty acids, sugars, and other organic compounds. “If God didn’t do it this way,” observed Miller’s delighted supervisor, the Nobel laureate Harold Urey, “He missed a good bet.

A mini-cab later and he arrived in Stockwell, where the pit bulls travelled in twos. Ludlow Road is near the tube station, a short mugging away.

Say what you will about ‘decency’ but I happen to be a fan of skimpy tube tops and really short skirts.

He proposed a steam-powered pneumatic tube system to carry telegraph forms the short distance from the Stock Exchange to the main telegraph office.

Reading comments below YouTube clips of my stand-up in the late noughties encouraged me to make the act even more like the sort of act the people who hated it would hate;

Things I Used to Get Hit For: Talking back. Being smart. Acting stupid. Not listening. Not answering the first time. Not doing what I’m told. Not doing it the second time I’m told. Running, jumping, yelling, laughing, falling down, skipping stairs, lying in the snow, rolling in the grass, playing in the dirt, walking in mud, not wiping my feet, not taking my shoes off. Sliding down the banister, acting like a wild Indian in the hallway. Making a mess and leaving it. Pissing my pants, just a little. Peeing the bed, hardly at all. Sleeping with a butter knife under my pillow. Shitting the bed because I was sick and it just ran out of me, but still my fault because I’m old enough to know better. Saying shit instead of crap or poop or number two. Not knowing better. Knowing something and doing it wrong anyway. Lying. Not confessing the truth even when I don’t know it. Telling white lies, even little ones, because fibbing isn’t fooling and not the least bit funny. Laughing at anything that’s not funny, especially cripples and retards. Covering up my white lies with more lies, black lies. Not coming the exact second I’m called. Getting out of bed too early, sometimes before the birds, and turning on the TV, which is one reason the picture tube died. Wearing out the cheap plastic hole on the channel selector by turning it so fast it sounds like a machine gun. Playing flip-and-catch with the TV’s volume button then losing it down the hole next to the radiator pipe. Vomiting. Gagging like I’m going to vomit. Saying puke instead of vomit. Throwing up anyplace but in the toilet or in a designated throw-up bucket. Using scissors on my hair. Cutting Kelly’s doll’s hair really short. Pinching Kelly. Punching Kelly even though she kicked me first. Tickling her too hard. Taking food without asking. Eating sugar from the sugar bowl. Not sharing. Not remembering to say please and thank you. Mumbling like an idiot. Using the emergency flashlight to read a comic book in bed because batteries don’t grow on trees. Splashing in puddles, even the puddles I don’t see until it’s too late. Giving my mother’s good rhinestone earrings to the teacher for Valentine’s Day. Splashing in the bathtub and getting the floor wet. Using the good towels. Leaving the good towels on the floor, though sometimes they fall all by themselves. Eating crackers in bed. Staining my shirt, tearing the knee in my pants, ruining my good clothes. Not changing into old clothes that don’t fit the minute I get home. Wasting food. Not eating everything on my plate. Hiding lumpy mashed potatoes and butternut squash and rubbery string beans or any food I don’t like under the vinyl seat cushions Mom bought for the wooden kitchen chairs. Leaving the butter dish out in summer and ruining the tablecloth. Making bubbles in my milk. Using a straw like a pee shooter. Throwing tooth picks at my sister. Wasting toothpicks and glue making junky little things that no one wants. School papers. Notes from the teacher. Report cards. Whispering in church. Sleeping in church. Notes from the assistant principal. Being late for anything. Walking out of Woolworth’s eating a candy bar I didn’t pay for. Riding my bike in the street. Leaving my bike out in the rain. Getting my bike stolen while visiting Grandpa Rudy at the hospital because I didn’t put a lock on it. Not washing my feet. Spitting. Getting a nosebleed in church. Embarrassing my mother in any way, anywhere, anytime, especially in public. Being a jerk. Acting shy. Being impolite. Forgetting what good manners are for. Being alive in all the wrong places with all the wrong people at all the wrong times.

What was this passion that attacked women for knitting under the most unpropitious conditions? A woman did not look her best knitting; the absorption, the glassy eyes, the restless, busy fingers! One needed the agility of a wild cat, and the will-power of a Napoleon to manage to knit in a crowded tube, but women managed it! If they succeeded in obtaining a seat, out came a miserable little strip of shrimp pink and click, click went the pins!

The work I do is not exactly respectable. But I want to explain how it works without any of the negatives associated with my infamous clients. I’ll show how I manipulated the media for a good cause. A friend of mine recently used some of my advice on trading up the chain for the benefit of the charity he runs. This friend needed to raise money to cover the costs of a community art project, and chose to do it through Kickstarter, the crowdsourced fund-raising platform. With just a few days’ work, he turned an obscure cause into a popular Internet meme and raised nearly ten thousand dollars to expand the charity internationally. Following my instructions, he made a YouTube video for the Kickstarter page showing off his charity’s work. Not a video of the charity’s best work, or even its most important work, but the work that exaggerated certain elements aimed at helping the video spread. (In this case, two or three examples in exotic locations that actually had the least amount of community benefit.) Next, he wrote a short article for a small local blog in Brooklyn and embedded the video. This site was chosen because its stories were often used or picked up by the New York section of the Huffington Post. As expected, the Huffington Post did bite, and ultimately featured the story as local news in both New York City and Los Angeles. Following my advice, he sent an e-mail from a fake address with these links to a reporter at CBS in Los Angeles, who then did a television piece on it—using mostly clips from my friend’s heavily edited video. In anticipation of all of this he’d been active on a channel of the social news site Reddit (where users vote on stories and topics they like) during the weeks leading up to his campaign launch in order to build up some connections on the site. When the CBS News piece came out and the video was up, he was ready to post it all on Reddit. It made the front page almost immediately. This score on Reddit (now bolstered by other press as well) put the story on the radar of what I call the major “cool stuff” blogs—sites like BoingBoing, Laughing Squid, FFFFOUND!, and others—since they get post ideas from Reddit. From this final burst of coverage, money began pouring in, as did volunteers, recognition, and new ideas. With no advertising budget, no publicist, and no experience, his little video did nearly a half million views, and funded his project for the next two years. It went from nothing to something. This may have all been for charity, but it still raises a critical question: What exactly happened? How was it so easy for him to manipulate the media, even for a good cause? He turned one exaggerated amateur video into a news story that was written about independently by dozens of outlets in dozens of markets and did millions of media impressions. It even registered nationally. He had created and then manipulated this attention entirely by himself.

Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!” Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing. “Do you really like it? You’re just saying that so that you can check out my belly!” “And what’s so bad about that? I mean, didn’t you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?” “No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?” “Actually, I do,” Heeb replied. “Where?” “My appendix.” “Huh?” “I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?” “That’s pretty original,” she replied, amused. “Oh yeah. I’ve outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport.” Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, “Don’t you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?” “Nah. I figure I’ll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It’ll be a two for one operation, if you know what I mean.

Arin had taken position on the mountainside wall. He didn’t see a ship enter the harbor. But he saw a hawk--a small one, a kestrel--swoop over the city and dive toward the general. The man pulled a tube from its leg and opened it. He went still. He disappeared into the ranks of soldiers. The Valorian army stopped its assault. Then Arin’s feet were moving along the wall, racing to face the sea, and although he couldn’t have said that he knew what had happened, he knew that something had changed, and in his mind there was only one person who could change his world. Another hawk was perched on the seaside battlements. It eyed him--head cocked, beak sharp, talons tight on stone. Snow laced its feathers. The message it bore was short. Arin, Let me in. Kestrel

Hope is not logical. It always comes as a surprise, just when you think all hope is lost. Hope is the cousin to grief, and both take time: you can’t short-circuit grief, or emptiness, and you can’t patch it up with your bicycle tire tube kit. You have to take the next right action.

Memories of bright and colorful worlds swirl together. The one thing in common is the brown mud on my boots. Slogging through battlefields. Noticing details like how the insides of sentient things have much in common: the same blood that colors red in the air, the sacs for breathing, the sacs for pumping blood through tubes, the tendrils for turning thoughts into things.

Silence. Then, “What does. This. Sound like?” “What does what sound like?” “Io is a sulfur-rich, iron-cored moon in a circular orbit around Jupiter. What does this. Sound like? Tidal forces from Jupiter and Ganymede pull and squeeze Io sufficiently to melt Tartarus, its sub-surface sulfur ocean. Tartarus vents its excess energy with sulfur and sulfur dioxide volcanoes. What does. This sound like? Io’s metallic core generates a magnetic field that punches a hole in Jupiter’s magnetosphere, and also creates a high-energy ion flux tube connecting its own poles with the north and south poles of Jupiter. What. Does this sound like? Io sweeps up and absorbs all the electrons in the million-volt range. Its volcanoes pump out sulfur dioxide; its magnetic field breaks down a percentage of that into sulfur and oxygen ions; and these ions are pumped into the hole punched in the magnetosphere, creating a rotating field commonly called the Io torus. What does this sound like? Torus. Flux tube. Magnetosphere. Volcanoes. Sulfur ions. Molten ocean. Tidal heating. Circular orbit. What does this sound like?” Against her will, Martha had found herself first listening, then intrigued, and finally involved. It was like a riddle or a word-puzzle. There was a right answer to the question. Burton or Hols would have gotten it immediately. Martha had to think it through. There was the faint hum of the radio’s carrier beam. A patient, waiting noise. At last, she cautiously said, “It sounds like a machine.

In 2018, I publicly disclosed that I had experienced psychological abuse by my sisters. Prior to uploading my first YouTube video on this sensitive topic, I had no idea if anyone else would relate. Shortly after my video went live, I received hundreds of comments by strangers who shared similar stories of being bullied, manipulated, gaslit, and abused by their own siblings. Five years later, my videos now have over 163,234K views and thousands of comments.

Clark had thought he was meeting his oldest friend for dinner, but Arthur wasn’t having dinner with a friend, Clark realized, so much as having dinner with an audience. He felt sick with disgust. When he left a short time later he found himself wandering, even though by now he’d oriented himself and knew how to get back to the Tube station. Cold rain, the sidewalk shining, the shhh of car tires on the wet street. Thinking about the terrible gulf of years between eighteen and fifty.

Without direction, the respiratory technician goes to the head of the bed. She takes the tubing, attaches it to the oxygen, and turns it on as high as it will go. She provides a seal with her hand cupped over the plastic mask, over the nose and mouth of the toddler, and methodically provides oxygenated air. Doyle’s tiny chest rises and falls while I listen with my stethoscope. I am reaching for another breathing tube. “Fib!” Dr. Pedras feels for a pulse while another places gelled pads on her chest.

Because another thing we look away from, in the killing of animals, is just how much they are like us. One of the things the internet has done is circulate, on a vast scale, short films of animals being cute. A lot of the time this means: being like us. I watched, once, some YouTube footage of a pig who had been raised by a specific human and allowed to grow old. In the clip the pig sees this human again after several years of separation and rushes over to the edge of the pigsty, braying and trying to leap the fence with what seemed to my eyes like joy: like the joy of recognition – indeed, of love. If you post links to such films approvingly, cynics – men (always men) born with the knowledge that they know best – will tell you, with lordly condescension, that you are anthropomorphising. By which they mean projecting human emotions and responses onto animals. When they say this, they tend not “to consider the possibility that if this were not anthropomorphism – if the pig just, as the film clearly suggests, had empathy and memory and other-directedness, if it was really overjoyed to see the person who reared it again years later, if it was capable of love – if the pig were showing the big emotions which we humans think make us special, then complacently slaughtering and eating pigs might become a bit problematic.

There’s an unexpected lull in the traffic about two-thirds of the way to Darmstadt, and I make the mistake of breathing a sigh of relief. The respite is short-lived. One moment I’m driving along a seemingly empty road, bouncing from side to side on the Smart’s town-car suspension as the hairdryersized engine howls its guts out beneath my buttocks, and the next instant the dashboard in front of me lights up like a flashbulb. I twitch spasmodically, jerking my head up so hard I nearly dent the thin plastic roof. Behind me the eyes of Hell are open, two blinding beacons like the landing lights on an off-course 747. Whoever they are, they’re standing on their brakes so hard they must be smoking. There’s a roar, and then a squat, red Audi sports coupe pulls out and squeezes past my flank close enough to touch, its blonde female driver gesticulating angrily at me. At least I think she’s blonde and female. It’s hard to tell because everything is gray, my heart is trying to exit through my rib cage, and I’m frantically wrestling with the steering wheel to keep the roller skate from toppling over. A fraction of a second later she’s gone, pulling back into the slow lane ahead of me to light off her afterburners. I swear I see red sparks shooting out of her two huge exhaust tubes as she vanishes into the distance, taking about ten years of my life with her.

if I found the sermon neither healing nor inspiring, I found the prayers full of hope and consolation. They at least are safe beyond human caprice, conceit, or incapacity. Upon them, too, the man who is distressed at the thought of how little of the needful food he had been able to provide for his people, may fall back for comfort, in the thought that there at least was what ought to have done them good, what it was well worth their while to go to church for. But I did think they were too long for any individual Christian soul, to sympathise with from beginning to end, that is, to respond to, like organ-tube to the fingered key, in every touch of the utterance of the general Christian soul. For my reader must remember that it is one thing to read prayers and another to respond; and that I had had very few opportunities of being in the position of the latter duty. I had had suspicions before, and now they were confirmed—that the present crowding of services was most inexpedient. And as I pondered on the matter, instead of trying to go on praying after I had already uttered my soul, which is but a heathenish attempt after much speaking, I thought how our Lord had given us such a short prayer to pray, and I began to wonder when or how the services came to be so heaped the one on the back of the other as they now were. No doubt many people defended them; no doubt many people could sit them out; but how many people could pray from beginning to end of them

For example, in the previously mentioned example of my leaving for work in a rush, being short with my wife, and then walking out with no further words, we can see that I am not relating with my experience in a complete way and that this is creating further karma. I am simply not present to the totality of my situation, of my feelings and my interactions with my wife. When I “rush,” I have disengaged; I am in a disembodied state. I am running from the painful feelings of my situation—of having gotten up late, not having left enough time to get ready, fearing being late for work—and from being with my wife, who looks for some basic level of decency and emotional presence from me. In my disembodied state, though the anxiety is coursing through my body, I am only dimly aware of feeling it. The anxiety has me by the throat, and I am trying to deal with it by ignoring it and everything it reflects. I do this by going faster and faster, as if I could outrun the situation and outrun my anxiety. So, driven by my fear, I am skimming the surface of my life, dropping my tube of toothpaste, leaving my pajamas on the floor (for my wife to pick up), stubbing my foot on the bedroom door, spilling my coffee, all capped off by being short with my wife. I am in a state of complete disembodiment and in such a mind of confusion that I am unconsciously acting as if being on time is of more consequence than respecting the tender and open feelings of my wife, my life partner and truest friend.

Mindy runs to the DVD player and delicately places the disk in the holder and presses play. “Will you sit in this chair, please, Princess Mindy?” I ask, bowing deeply at the waist. Mindy giggles as she replies, ”I guess so.” After Mindy sits down, I take a wide-tooth comb and start gently combing out her tangles. Mindy starts vibrating with excitement as she blurts, “Mr. Jeff, you’re gonna fix my hair fancy, ain’t you?” “We’ll see if a certain Princess can hold still long enough for me to finish,” I tease. Immediately, Mindy becomes as still as a stone statue. After a couple of minutes, I have to say, “Mindy, sweetheart, it’s okay to breathe. I just can’t have you bouncing, because I’m afraid it will cause me to pull your hair.” Mindy slumps down in her chair just slightly. “Okay Mr. Jeff, I was ascared you was gonna stop,” she whispers, her chin quivering. I adopt a very fake, very over-the-top French accent and say, “Oh no, Monsieur Jeff must complete Princess Mindy’s look to make the Kingdom happy. Mindy erupts with the first belly laugh I’ve heard all day as she responds, “Okay, I’ll try to be still, but it’s hard ‘cause I have the wiggles real bad.” I pat her on the shoulder and chuckle as I say, “Just try your best, sweetheart. That’s all anyone can ask.” Kiera comes screeching around the corner in a blur, plunks her purse on the table, and says breathlessly, “Geez-O-Pete, I can’t believe I’m late for the makeover. I love makeovers.” Kiera digs through her purse and produces two bottles of nail polish and nail kit. “It’s time for your mani/pedi ma’am. Would you prefer Pink Pearl or Frosted Creamsicle? Mindy raises her hand like a schoolchild and Kiera calls on her like a pupil, “I want Frosted Cream toes please,” Mindy answers. “Your wish is my command, my dear,” Kiera responds with a grin. For the next few minutes, Mindy gets the spa treatment of her life as I carefully French braid her hair into pigtails. As a special treat, I purchased some ribbons from the gift shop and I’m weaving them into her hair. I tuck a yellow rose behind her ear. I don my French accent as I declare, “Monsieur Jeffery pronounces Princess Mindy finished and fit to rule the kingdom.” Kiera hands Mindy a new tube of grape ChapStick from her purse, “Hold on, a true princess never reigns with chapped lips,” she says. Mindy giggles as she responds, “You’re silly, Miss Kiera. Nobody in my kingdom is going to care if my lips are shiny.” Kiera’s laugh sounds like wind chimes as she covers her face with her hands as she confesses, “Okay, you busted me. I just like to use it because it tastes yummy.” “Okay, I want some, please,” Mindy decides. Kiera is putting the last minute touches on her as Mindy is scrambling to stand on Kiera’s thighs so she can get a better look in the mirror. When I reach out to steady her, she grabs my hand in a death grip. I glance down at her. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is opening and closing like a fish. I shoot Kiera a worried glance, but she merely shrugs. “Holy Sh — !” Mindy stops short when she sees Kiera’s expression. “Mr. Jeff is an angel for reals because he turned me into one. Look at my hair Miss Kiera, there are magic ribbons in it! I’m perfect. I can be anything I want to be.” Spontaneously, we all join together in a group hug. I kiss the top of her head as I agree, “Yes, Mindy, you are amazing and the sky is the limit for you.

Another general would have let them go and been glad of it. But he saw that if they secured that high ground they might regroup and come at us again, this time with their archers positioned to advantage. So he called us to ranks with a curdling cry. I glimpsed his face through the crowd of men. It was bloodied, dirt-streaked, avid. Then he turned, fist to the sky, and sprinted. He set the pace for the fleetest of his runners, youths who could give him a decade. Even uphill, he seemed to fly over the loose stones that slid out from underfoot and left me skidding and swearing. I fell behind, and lost sight of him. Others—younger men, better fighters—overtook me, swarming to him, compelled by his courage. When I finally glimpsed him again, he was above me on a long, slender ridge, in the thick of fierce fighting. Trying to narrow the distance between us, I lost my footing entirely on the uncertain ground. I slipped. Metal, leather and flesh scraped against rough limestone that bit like snaggleteeth. I could not control my fall until I planted my foot into something that gave softly under my weight. The man had been attempting to crawl away, dragging himself with his remaining hand while a slime of blood pulsed from the stump of his sword arm. My boot, mashing his neck flat into stone, had put an end to that. When I lifted my foot, the man gave a wet gargle, and was still. I scraped the mess off my boot onto the nearest rock and went on. When I reached the ridge, the king was making an end of another fighter. He was up close, eye to eye. His sword had entered just above the man’s groin. He drew it upward, in a long, slow, arcing slash. As he pulled the blade back—slick, dripping—long tubes of bowel came tumbling after. I could see the dying man’s eyes, wide with horror, his hands gripping for his guts, trying to push them back into the gaping hole in his belly. The king’s own eyes were blank—all the warmth swallowed by the black stain of widening pupils. David reached out an arm and pushed the man hard in the chest. He fell backward off the narrow ledge and rolled down the slope, his entrails unfurling after him like a glossy ribband. I was engaged myself then, by a bullnecked spearman who required all my flagging strength. He was bigger than me, but clumsy, and I used his size against him, so that as I feinted one way, he lunged with his spear, overbalanced and fell right onto the dagger that I held close and short at my side. I felt the metal grating against the bone of his rib, and then I mustered enough force to thrust the tip sharply upward, the blade’s full length inside him, in the direction of his heart. I felt the warm wetness of his insides closing about my fist. It was intimate as a rape.

That means all you do is see me as a girl going to hang out with a bunch of dudes. That’s not how I see myself. I’m not some chick that’s going to go running up there in, like, a tube top and short shorts, trying to fuck Tupac. That’s not what this is. If that’s what you think, you don’t respect me, you don’t respect what I’m trying to do, and you don’t understand my intention, my goal. The fact that you would even jump to that is offensive to me.

BILATERAL COORDINATION Ball Catch—Toss a large beach ball gently to the child from a short distance. As he becomes more competent, use a smaller ball and step farther away. Ball Whack—Have the child hold a baseball bat, rolling pin, broomstick, book, cardboard tube, or ruler in both hands. Remind her to keep her feet still. Toss her a big ball. As she swings, her body will rotate, as her arms cross the midline. Two-Handed Tetherball—Suspend a sponge ball at the child’s eye level from a string attached to a wide doorframe. Let your child choose different “bats.” Have her count how many hits she makes without missing. Try four-handed tetherball, in which you play, too. Balloon Fun—Using both hands together, the child bounces or tosses up a balloon and catches it. He can keep it afloat by whacking it with open hands or batting it repeatedly with hands clasped together in one large “fist.” Rolling-Pin Fun—Provide the child with a cylindrical block or a rolling pin without handles, so he presses down with his opened hands. Have him roll real dough, playdough, crackers, clay—or mud! Body Rhythms—While you chant or sing, clap, and tap different body parts and have your child imitate your motions. Tip your head from side to side, wave your arms overhead, shake icky sticky glue off your hands, pound your chest, slap your hips, bend from side to side, hunch and relax your shoulders, stamp your feet, and hop from foot to foot. Use both hands together or alternately.

In this regard, the delicate cell bodies, dendrites, and axons are like the many other fluid-filled tubes within the body. The quality of their function is susceptible to changes in pressure, distortion, viscosity. Their need for constant irrigation is acute: If fresh oxygen is held back from a neuron for merely three to five seconds, it is rendered completely unexcitable.4 And necessary substances must circulate inside the cell as well as around it. If a long dendrite or axon is pinched, closing its length off from the rest of the cell’s fluid, the excitability of the isolated branch quickly decays and eventually the pinched axon or dendrite will atrophy. You can park a truck on top of an electrical wire and it will continue to work nicely. It will work, in fact, until it is completely severed. In contrast there are many intermediate stages of malfunction in a nerve short of this final breakage—or lesion—most of them having to do with the relative effectiveness of the delivery and circulation of nutritional fluids and the adequate flushing of toxins and wastes. These intermediate malfunctions do not normally stop the system; they just make it less efficient. They confuse sensations, cloud thoughts, disturb the precision of our muscular efforts, make us numb in some spots, unaccountably sensitive in others, eliminate responses, force compensations. Insofar as effective bodywork can be of direct benefit to the circulation of bodily fluids, it can help to support the actual metabolic bases of nerve function, and this benefit is above and beyond the question of the value of any actual sensations it may produce.

he was reveling in the possibilities inherent in selling a car that behaved like a fighter jet. “Yeah, it’s mad,” he continued, with a dimpled grin. And then he added, “In the option selection, you’ll be able to choose three settings: Normal, Sport, and Insane.” A ripple of laughter washed over the crowd. Then, as if to reassure himself as much as everyone else: “It will actually say ‘Insane.’” He hunched his shoulders forward and laughed. Videos posted by people who had experienced “Insane Mode” during test rides at the event appeared on YouTube the next day. Invariably, the accompanying commentary was littered with expletives and other delighted expressions of shock as the car’s spine-straightening acceleration took effect. In the weeks and months that followed, more reaction videos appeared and spread, with one especially spicy compilation coming to accrue more than ten million views. Insane Mode could be seen as more than just a product feature, more than just a marketing gimmick. It would be the mind-set required to fend off the short-sellers of Tesla’s stock, traditional automakers, political opponents, and an increasingly nervous oil industry. It represented the intensity of fervor needed to win the public over to electric cars. And it was a statement about the velocity of innovation required to transition the world to sustainable energy before the planet’s climate changes beyond repair. Even as a feature for a luxury motor vehicle, though, Insane Mode was audacious in both intent and implication.

Block said. “I mean, he’s a professor emeritus. He’s never watched a football game in my conscious memory. The whole picture—it wasn’t the guy I thought I knew.” But the conversation proved critical, because after surgery he developed bleeding in the spinal cord. The surgeons told her that in order to save his life they would need to go back in. But the bleeding had already made him nearly quadriplegic, and he would remain severely disabled for many months and likely forever. What did she want to do? “I had three minutes to make this decision, and I realized, he had already made the decision.” She asked the surgeons whether, if her father survived, he would still be able to eat chocolate ice cream and watch football on TV. Yes, they said. She gave the okay to take him back to the operating room. “If I had not had that conversation with him,” she told me, “my instinct would have been to let him go at that moment because it just seemed so awful. And I would have beaten myself up. Did I let him go too soon?” Or she might have gone ahead and sent him to surgery, only to find—as occurred—that he was faced with a year of “very horrible rehab” and disability. “I would have felt so guilty that I condemned him to that,” she said. “But there was no decision for me to make.” He had decided. During the next two years, he regained the ability to walk short distances. He required caregivers to bathe and dress him. He had difficulty swallowing and eating. But his mind was intact and he had partial use of his hands—enough to write two books and more than a dozen scientific articles. He lived for ten years after the operation. Eventually, however, his difficulties with swallowing advanced to the point where he could not eat without aspirating food particles, and he cycled between hospital and rehabilitation facilities with the pneumonias that resulted. He didn’t want a feeding tube. And it became evident that the battle for the dwindling chance of a miraculous recovery was going to leave him unable ever to go home again. So, just a few months before I’d spoken with Block, her father decided to stop the battle and go home. “We started him on hospice care,” Block said. “We treated his choking and kept him comfortable. Eventually, he stopped eating and drinking. He died about five days later.

For the billionaires, champagne baths every morning and new Lamborghinis every afternoon couldn’t deplete the fathomless amount of cash on hand. “Your entire philosophy of money changes,” writes author Richard Frank in his book, Richistan. “You realize that you can’t possibly spend all of your fortune, or even part of it, in your lifetime, and that your money will probably grow over the years even if you spend lavishly.” There are dotcom entrepreneurs who could live top 1 percent American lifestyles and not run out of cash for 4,000 years. People who Bill Simmons would call “pajama rich,” so rich they can go to a five-star restaurant or sit courtside at the NBA playoffs in their pajamas. They have so much money that they have nothing to prove to anyone. And many of them are totally depressed. You’ll remember the anecdote I shared in this book’s introduction about being too short to reach between the Olympic rings at the playground jungle gym. I had to jump to grab the first ring and then swing like a pendulum in order to reach the next ring. To get to the third ring, I had to use the momentum from the previous swing to keep going. If I held on to the previous ring too long, I’d stop and wouldn’t be able to get enough speed to reach the next ring. This is Isaac Newton’s first law of motion at work: objects in motion tend to stay in motion, unless acted on by external forces. Once you start swinging, it’s easier to keep swinging than to slow down. The problem with some rapid success, it turns out, is that lucky breaks like Bear Vasquez’s YouTube success or an entrepreneur cashing out on an Internet wave are like having someone lift you up so you can grab one of the Olympic rings. Even if you get dropped off somewhere far along the chain, you’re stuck in one spot. Financial planners say that this is why a surprisingly high percentage of the rapidly wealthy get depressed. As therapist Manfred Kets de Vries once put it in an interview with The Telegraph, “When money is available in near-limitless quantities, the victim sinks into a kind of inertia.

You can see a short demonstration of this technique by watching my YouTube video: From Dry Skin to Glowing Complexion.

I was just beginning to wonder how long I would have to wait when finally a guard sauntered up and said, “Galloway, get your stuff, get your bed.” I ran to my cell to get my stuff and I grabbed the toothpaste. The toothpaste was in this clear tube and was clear like hair gel. It had a muted, watered-down mint flavor. Everything you got in jail was made specifically to be as safe as can be. One of the guys told me, “Don’t ever take anything from being locked up. It’s bad luck.” But I told myself, You ain’t coming back. You ain’t getting locked up again, so you’re taking a souvenir. I grabbed that little clear tube and I put it in my pocket and walked out of my cell. As I came out, all of the guys from my cellblock were lined up to say goodbye. The guard had this look on his face like, “What is going on?” I walked down the line shaking each man’s hands. They all told me they were glad they had met me. They told me that I made an impact on them. One guy said, “You came in here and you’ve been to war and back, you’re missing two limbs, but you still had a smile on your face the whole time. You’ve gone through so much and you are able to keep smiling. That motivates me.” I was really touched. I kept going down the line, shaking hands and saying my farewells, and finally I got to Michael Bolton. He said, “Hey, man, I’ve asked people this before and they never follow through with it but I believe you will. Could you print out some TV guides? Because you know we just tell them the number. We don’t know what’s on at what time, what station.” I said, “Yeah, man, I’ll do that.” And I looked around to the other guys and asked, “Does anybody want any crossword puzzles or anything like that?” They all said that would be awesome. “All right, Michael, I’ve got your address so I’m gonna send it to you. And listen, man, I’m gonna give you my email address. When you get out shoot me an email. I want to stay in touch and see how things are going.” I turned to the guard who was still baffled by what was happening and said, “I’m ready.” He rolled his eyes and opened the door. We walked out and they handed me my clothes. I pulled off the orange jumpsuit and tossed it. I changed back into my clothes. I signed everything I had to sign, got some paperwork to take with me, and walked out a free man again. Well, my epic freedom moment was short-lived, because I realized my cell phone was dead. I walked down the road to a gas station and asked if I could use the phone. I called Tracy and told her where I was and asked her to pick me up. When Tracy arrived I hopped in the car and the very first thing I said to her was “I gotta get home. I have to print out some TV guides and I need to write a letter to some of the guys in there.” She started laughing and when she could compose herself enough to talk said, “My sisters and I all said we guarantee Noah is going to come out of jail with new friends. He’s going to be friends with everybody.

one professor told me that he struggled to get his students there to read even quite short books, and he increasingly offered them podcasts and YouTube clips they could watch instead. And that’s Harvard.

I could mess up the gravity and get squished. I could get sealed in and spend the rest of my objectively quite short but subjectively probably very long and unhappy existence like a jellyfish in the tubes, drifting along, unable to get out. And both of these seemed preferable in my head to the idea that I was going to have to climb out of this accessway and go get into a physical confrontation with somebody who was armed and didn’t mind conflict in the slightest.

YouTube Short: CANCEL CULTURE is preparing us to be MASS MURDERED by 21 Studios July 31, 2022 Cancel culture is a dress rehearsal for mass murder. They are seeing if people can be disappeared from social media, and if people accept people being disappeared from social media, then they will accept people being disappeared from the world. When communists get into power, when socialists get into power, they kill us. No kidding, no fooling, and our families are lucky to get away. Cancel culture is a dress rehearsal for extermination. And the kind of lies that are told about me in the main stream media, in Wikipedia and other places, are very specifically designed to get crazy people to target me in a violent manner. They call it character assassination, because it’s a rehearsal. See, culture is when you disagree, and we are allowed to disagree, because that’s what culture is. When you silence people you disagree with, that’s the opposite of culture. It’s a cult. It’s just the first syllable, “cult.” Not culture.

Now queer communities are an entirely different thing. That would be like if you decided to round up all of the people who have ever bicycled through the Posey Tube and put them all in the same room together. At first, you would all bond over your shared experiences traversing and surviving the tunnel. There would be expressions of Posey Tube Pride abound, and it would no doubt be a wonderful affair. But fairly shortly after that, you would all start to realize that you have nothing in common with one another aside from this one thing. After all, you each come from different backgrounds and have different personal and political views. Not to mention different bicycles!

Multitasking, in short, is not only not thinking; it impairs your ability to think. Thinking means concentrating on one thing long enough to develop an idea about it. Not learning other people’s ideas, or memorizing information, however much those may sometimes be useful. Developing your own ideas: thinking for yourself. Which is something that you simply cannot do in bursts of twenty seconds at a time, interrupted constantly by Facebook messages or Twitter tweets or fiddling with your iPod or watching YouTube.

One of the most fascinating things I stumbled across was a Ted Talk by Aaron O’Connell entitled “Making Sense of a Visible Quantum Object.” Unlike most material on quantum mechanics, which focuses on subatomic matter and can feel very abstract, O’Connell’s talk is about how quantum mechanics might actually be at work at the macro level. At our level. And what that might imply about the world around us. His presentation (which is short and easily findable on YouTube) is worth viewing.

Nowadays more than ever, the ability to attract people’s attention is one of the biggest sources of income for many companies. In short, your focus is worth a lot of money, which is why YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram do everything they can to keep you glued to your screen.

Nowadays more than ever, the ability to attract people’s attention is one of the biggest sources of income for many companies. In short, your focus is worth a lot of money, which is why YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram do everything they can to keep you glued to your screen. However, your focus is also worth a lot of money to you.

Here are four examples of Lead Magnets I use: A checklist that can be used to properly perform something I explained in a video. A template for determining, say, a business’s profit margin. An advanced guide that goes further into the details of a subject of one of my videos. A unique book that provides substantial value but is offered for free. For me, it is 11 Side Hustle Ideas to Make $500/Day from Your Phone. The appropriate opt-in incentive depends on your content. Here are other types of examples: A DIY carpenter could offer plans to make a corner table. A marketing YouTuber could offer scripts of what to say on sales phone calls. A landscaping expert might offer recommendations for which kinds of grass to use around the United States. YouTuber Nick True at Mapped Out Money, who makes video tutorials that teach the best practices for using the personal budgeting software YNAB, found that he gets the highest sign-up rates when he offers a checklist that relates to the video. His followers really like having a resource that they can use to put his advice into practice. Jess Dante of Love and London runs a YouTube channel helping viewers plan their trips to London by suggesting lesser-known restaurants and stores to visit. Her superstar opt-in incentive is a free London 101 Guide with everything a first-time visitor needs to know. It’s been downloaded more than 45,000 times. Where you make your call to action will also have an impact on your success building your email list. You can make your call to action in a variety of places or ways inside your videos. One of the best ways is to give a short, relevant tease of the bonus or resource you’re offering within the YouTube video and tell people where they can learn more. CHALLENGE Create a Lead Magnet. It’s time to create your first Lead Magnet using the process we’ve just outlined above. You can use your piece of content from the previous chapter as a base or start something new. Don’t spend more than two hours on the first iteration. If you want to turn it into a big thing later on, great. But start SMALL. Go to MillionDollarWeekend.com to get Lead Magnet templates! (See what I did there?)

Social media companies like YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram know that the more time you spend on their platforms, the more money they make through advertising.

Working from the other end of the digestive system, fecal microbiota transplantation, FMT for short, is a more radical approach that is being used already to treat colitis, irritable bowel syndrome, and other inflammatory illnesses.25 The technique is simple, though not quite as relaxing as drinking yoghurt: a sample of microbiome from a healthy donor is presented to the patient via an enema, through a colonoscope, or via a tube passed through the nostrils into the stomach or duodenum. The

Unexpected emergency plumbers Unexpected emergency plumber is? If your own group, but probably the same dress isn’t in the middle, where they start imitating the pool, the owner most likely to smoke. This is certainly a task that will require a qualified plumber, clean bathrooms and sinks in each backup, and even the simple addition of a new line of right tubes. Unfortunately, there are elements that do not require any old plumber, but a situation of sudden emergency, like H2O uncontrolled always works with tap water and start flooding the marsh peace. However, they are high quality. How can I tell if other service providers should be, or not? Are you sure you need a plumber crisis? Shortly before speaking to the installer should complete the water supply or the probability that the water line, the rack provides back. It is in order to avoid problems with the drinking water. He is not only very welcome to complete the water flow. After the arrest of H2O oneself've, evaluates the circumstances. If the problem is a bathroom fully equipped, bathroom once, until dawn, so the long-term wear’s each washing. He is a very potential and are reluctant to get up early in the morning when you are ready for self-determination, these solutions makes the kitchen sink, toilet and a lounge. In fact, you can get away from high fire call 24 hours a plumber at night for a few hours or during holidays or weekends to stay. In an interview with an unexpected emergency plumbers Unfortunately, when the time of the suspension of H2O and objective analysis and emergency may not be present, created only for contacting unexpected emergency sanitary and easy and to take concerns in writing to the other include some content his hands to keep the person. Preliminary interviews hydraulic range is trying to understand a lot of the other Box difficulties. Other personal data and many other facts themselves can be better able to assess the management of the crisis and the calculation of the payments change. Is a great addition to the amount pipeline management principle affects many, if not yet in a plumber decision. In fact, bought a lot of contact carrier price quotes can also sometimes significant price differences. Also check out the views of the services is in his hands. Some of the costs only in the room, even if they, after maintenance. Well, the result have, as it in this area before the season and it is surprising simply be a monthly bill. Please ask to get the price of maintenance. 24 hours plumber not calculates the direction of providing greater than a cell phone, and requires separate installation scenario earlier selection. But it can be equipped with a direction to select difficulty of defining and thinking about the cost, if he succeeded in presenting the sewage system in unforeseen emergencies. Ask will differ plumber state and talk about their own crisis normal or common prices. If you need to contact the unexpected rescue tend to check an unexpected emergency plumber to the self to take us in the direction of first, so that you can be your own ready to talk to the plumber, one after another, much better, then you determine the value.

The warmth and the soft glow of the tubes also attracted moths, which would fly through ENIAC’s innards and cause short circuits. Ever since, the process of fixing computer problems has been known as debugging.

Sylvan didn’t know what in the seven hells was happening to him. First his fangs had come out—not once, but twice. And the second time he hadn’t even noticed. Thankfully he’d been able to force them to retract, though the feeling was akin to having his erect cock bound in a too-tight pair of pants. But now his mating scent was apparently emanating from every pore. He could barely smell it himself—it was too much a part of him. But why else would Sophia have rubbed herself against him like that? Her soft, curvy body. The fullness of her breasts against my chest. Her warm secret scent… She even seemed to like the press of my shaft against her—at least she didn’t move away. He shook his head. No, there was no way the shy, obviously inexperienced Sophia would have made such a wanton display if his mating scent wasn’t out in full force. But it shouldn’t be! I have sworn never to call a bride. Sworn it in the sacred grove before the statue of the Mother herself. Why is this happening to me? He didn’t know. His boots clicked and echoed as he strode along the endless lines of docked vehicles, looking for the shuttle that he and Baird shared. Finally, he found it at the end of a short row of similar craft. It was long and sleek and silver—with a very small enclosed space inside. He threw a glance back at Sophia who was nearly running to keep up with his long strides. What if his mating scent filled the cabin of the shuttle as it had the compartment of the transport tube? Was there any way to suppress it? Sylvan wished he knew but he had never heard of a warrior with his problem before. Usually when a Blood Kindred’s fangs came out and his mating scent began exuding, he was mentally and emotionally ready to claim his bride. But I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. And even if I was, even if I would dream of breaking my vow, Sophia would never have me. He

The most important pillar behind innovation and opportunity—education—will see tremendous positive change in the coming decades as rising connectivity reshapes traditional routines and offers new paths for learning. Most students will be highly technologically literate, as schools continue to integrate technology into lesson plans and, in some cases, replace traditional lessons with more interactive workshops. Education will be a more flexible experience, adapting itself to children’s learning styles and pace instead of the other way around. Kids will still go to physical schools, to socialize and be guided by teachers, but as much, if not more, learning will take place employing carefully designed educational tools in the spirit of today’s Khan Academy, a nonprofit organization that produces thousands of short videos (the majority in science and math) and shares them online for free. With hundreds of millions of views on the Khan Academy’s YouTube channel already, educators in the United States are increasingly adopting its materials and integrating the approach of its founder, Salman Khan—modular learning tailored to a student’s needs. Some are even “flipping” their classrooms, replacing lectures with videos watched at home (as homework) and using school time for traditional homework, such as filling out a problem set for math class. Critical thinking and problem-solving skills will become the focus in many school systems as ubiquitous digital-knowledge tools, like the more accurate sections of Wikipedia, reduce the importance of rote memorization. For children in poor countries, future connectivity promises new access to educational tools, though clearly not at the level described above. Physical classrooms will remain dilapidated; teachers will continue to take paychecks and not show up for class; and books and supplies will still be scarce. But what’s new in this equation—connectivity—promises that kids with access to mobile devices and the Internet will be able to experience school physically and virtually, even if the latter is informal and on their own time.

We don’t want to get off the main road,” I said. “There’s way too many tack weeds out there.” “Those stickers are worse than real tacks,” said Henny. “Maybe we should leave our bikes and walk. I don’t want to take any chances.” That’s the trouble with having such a nice bike, with so many terrific gadgets. Henny doesn’t like to ride unless conditions are ideal, like maybe around a newly paved parking lot. “Henny,” I said. “It’s definitely time for us to move on. Your inner tubes will be safe if you just stay on the highway. Besides, it will be cooler with a breeze blowing in your face.” Henny got back on his bike and slowly pedaled it up to a speed past wobbly but short of smooth and comfortable. “This is not a breeze,” he called up to me. “This is hot air being forced up my nostrils. This is hot air drying out my already parched throat. Water. I need water.

I raise my grease gun and I aim it at Cowboy's face. Cowboy looks pitiful and he's terrified. Cowboy is paralyzed by the shock that is setting in and by the helplessness. I hardly know him. I remember the first time I saw Cowboy, on Parris Island, laughing, beating his Stetson on his thigh. I look at him. He looks at the grease gun. He calls out: "I NEVER LIKED YOU, JOKER. I NEVER THOUGHT YOU WERE FUNNY--" Bang. I sight down the short metal tube and I watch my bullet enter Cowboy's left eye. My bullet passes through his eye socket, punches through fluid-filled sinus cavities, through membranes, nerves, arteries, muscle tissue, through the tiny blood vessels that feed three pounds of gray butter-soft high protein meat where brain cells arranged like jewels in a clock hold every thought and memory and dream of one adult maleHomo sapiens. My bullet exits through the occipital bone, knocks out hairy, brain-wet clods of jagged meat, then buries itself in the roots of a tree. Silence. Animal Mother lowers his M-60. Animal Mother, Donlon, Lance Corporal Stutten, Harris, and the other guys in the squad do not speak. Everyone relaxes, glad to be alive. Everyone hates my guts, but they know I'm right. I am their sergeant; they are my men. Cowboy was killed by sniper fire, they'll say, but they'll never see me again; I'll be invisible.

How much did I actually benefit from watching YouTube videos, scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, or checking my emails repeatedly? In hindsight, was the time spent in a meaningful way? Did it enhance the quality of your life?

Whenever you check your email, you’re expecting a reward, which could be a message from a friend or some exciting news. Whenever you check stats, such as investment portfolio, or website traffic stats, you expect a reward from seeing encouraging numbers. And the unpredictability makes it more exciting. Whenever you visit YouTube, you expect to watch interesting or exciting videos. Whenever you visit social media sites, such as Facebook, Twitter or Instagram, you’re anticipating rewards such as likes or comments on your posts, messages from friends or interesting content.

In the YouTube video, I am talking about my middle school English teacher. I am doing so with a level of zeal that I now recognize is mortifying. My English teacher was a quirky woman in her late twenties who had short hair that she wore butterfly clips in. She wore overalls, beaded necklaces, and colorful eye shadow. It is painfully obvious in retrospect that I was in love with her.

An infection or inflammation of the larynx is known as laryngitis (lar-in-JI .-tis). It commonly affects the vibrational qualities of the vocal folds. Hoarseness is the most familiar result. Mild cases are temporary and seldom serious. However, bacterial or viral infections of the epiglottis can be very dangerous. The resulting swelling may close the glottis and cause suffocation. This condition, acute epiglottitis (ep-ih-glot-TI .-tis), can develop rapidly after a bacterial infection of the throat. Young children are most likely to be affected. The Trachea The trachea (TRA .-ke.-uh), or windpipe, is a tough, flexible tube with a diameter of about 2.5 cm (1 in.) and a length of about 11 cm (4.33 in.) (Figure 23–6). The trachea begins anterior to vertebra C6 in a ligamentous attachment to the cricoid cartilage. It ends in the mediastinum, at the level of vertebra T5, where it branches to form the right and left main bronchi. The epithelium of the trachea is continuous with that of the larynx. The mucosa of the trachea resembles that of the nasal cavity and nasopharynx (look back at Figure 23–2a). The submucosa (sub-mu.-KO .-suh), a thick layer of connective tissue, surrounds the mucosa. The submucosa contains tracheal glands whose mucous secretions reach the tracheal lumen through a number of short ducts. The trachea contains 15–20 tracheal cartilages that stiffen the tracheal walls and protect the airway (see Figure 23–6a). They also prevent it from collapsing or overexpanding as pressure changes in the respiratory system. Each tracheal cartilage is C-shaped. The closed portion of the C protects the anterior and lateral surfaces of the trachea. The open portion of the C faces posteriorly, toward the esophagus (see Figure 23–6b). Because these cartilages are not continuous, the posterior tracheal wall can easily distort when you swallow, allowing large masses of food to pass through the esophagus. An elastic anular ligament and the trachealis, a band of smooth muscle, connect the ends of each tracheal cartilage (see Figure 23–6b). Contraction of the trachealis reduces the diameter of the trachea. This narrowing increases the tube’s resistance to airflow. The normal diameter of the trachea changes from moment to moment, primarily under the control of the sympathetic division of the ANS. Sympathetic stimulation increases the diameter of the trachea and makes it easier to move large volumes of air along the respiratory passageways.

In today’s world, maintaining focus has become incredibly difficult. That’s because everybody is vying for our attention. And I’m not just talking about our family members, friends, or colleagues. I’m also talking about marketers, YouTubers, or bloggers. Nowadays more than ever, the ability to attract people’s attention is one of the biggest sources of income for many companies. In short, your focus is worth a lot of money, which is why YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram do everything they can to keep you glued to your screen.

pants, or “huggable” velvet hangers, rather than cheap wire ones, will keep clothing in top-notch shape and avoid tangles. It’s okay to use more than one kind of hanger to help clothing keep its shape. For example, padded hangers should be used for any hanging sweaters, but other kinds of shirts would be fine with tube or huggable hangers. Just keep them consistent in each section of the closet. And always hang clothes in the same direction. This will help reduce visual clutter and allow you to review your clothes at a glance. For shoes, there are a multitude of storage options. Inexpensive clear plastic shoe boxes keep shoes dust-free and easily viewed. Or use overdoor shoe bags, hanging canvas shoe bags, or a neat tiered shoe rack or shoe tree on the floor. Make sure to use ALL closet space. Underneath short- hanging garments, place a low trunk full of sweaters, a set of plastic drawers, or a simple wooden dresser filled with lingerie, swimsuits, and socks. 6. CLEAN UP & MAINTAIN Put the donation boxes in the car or near the exit so they leave the home immediately. Take out the trash. Grab the relocation box and redistribute all of its contents appropriately. Review the contents of the fix-it box and determine if the cost of the repairs is worth saving the items. If so, make a plan to get them to the

If you spend hours watching YouTube videos, install DF Tube on your Google Chrome navigator, or find a similar app for your internet browser. This will remove all the suggestions and notifications. Then, only watch videos that serve a specific purpose.

Coming up the stairway was Antonio Bujia. Eban Abbott peered at him. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” “To the bridge. I called you through the telephone and speaking tube and got no answer. Everything is running good. But we cannot stay down there much longer.” The two men looked at each other. Wisps of smoke were drifting around the staircase. “Go back and stand by. I’ll go to the bridge,” said Abbott. With those few words he changed his whole future; he would regret them all his life. Shocked and disoriented though Abbott still was by Captain Wilmott’s death, he had been moving, albeit slowly and in a roundabout way, down toward the engine room. If he had been challenged about his movements, he could defend himself by pointing out that, as chief engineer, it was also his job to ascertain the extent of the fire so that he could organize the water supplies accordingly. But Bujia had brought Abbott head on with the reality of the situation: the engine room, in his assistant’s estimation, had shortly to be abandoned. There was only one course of action open to Eban Abbott. It was to go down to check out the situation himself. Abbott was charged with the responsibility to ensure that the men in the engine room performed their duties fully in operating the fire pumps, lights, and power to steer the ship through the growing crisis. He abandoned this responsibility when he ordered Bujia back down below and rapidly climbed to the safety of the open deck.

In fact, the culture of innovation is so pure and so stridently noble that it often sounds like advertising. You hear about the startup that is going to help with sanitation in African cities; the one that’s going to print out prosthetic hands for disabled children; the one that’s procuring clothes for homeless children. “We’re with people who are curing cancer in a different way, and changing banking technology, and helping folks who can’t see anymore,” says a woman in a short YouTube video about MassChallenge. Inno is going to solve global warming. Inno is coming up with new treatments for autism. Inno is so inherently moral that there is even a UNICEF Innovation team; dial up its homepage and you will encounter the following introductory sentence: “In 2015, innovation is vital to the state of the world’s children.” The fog of righteousness surrounding this concept is so thick it allows all manner of absurdly altruistic claims. “Can startups help solve Boston’s Biggest Problems?” asked an email I received last spring. Of course they can! The group that sent it, CityStart Boston (“Leveraging the Innovation Community to Tackle Civic Issues”), announced plans to mobilize “the entire Boston startup ecosystem” to “collaborate to develop viable ventures designed…” Wait! Stop here for a moment, reader, and try to guess: in what way is the startup ecosystem going to collaborate to solve Boston’s biggest problems? If you guessed “to enhance innovation in Boston’s neighborhoods,” you were right. Startups are going to collaborate to enhance startups.

Neurons are formed in the proliferative zone of the vertebrate neural tube from multipotent neural stem cells, which give rise to many different types of neurons and to glia. For many years it was thought that no new neurons could be generated in the adult mammalian brain, but the production of new neurons has been demonstrated as a normal occurrence in the adult mammalian brain, and neural stem cells have been identified in adult mammals that can generate neurons.

Future motor neurons are located ventrally, and form the ventral roots of the spinal cord. The neurons of the sensory nervous system develop from neural crest cells. The dorso-ventral organization of the spinal cord is produced by Sonic hedgehog protein signals from ventral regions such as the notochord. Sonic hedgehog forms a gradient of activity from ventral to dorsal in the neural tube, and acts as the ventral patterning positional signal. As well as being organized along the dorso-ventral axis, neurons at different positions along the antero-posterior axis of the spinal cord become specified to serve different functions. The antero-posterior specification of neuronal function in the spinal cord was dramatically illustrated some 40 years ago by experiments in which a section of the spinal cord that would normally innervate wing muscles was transplanted from one chick embryo into the region that normally serves the legs of another embryo. Chicks developing from the grafted embryos spontaneously activated both legs together, as though they were trying to flap their wings, rather than activating each leg alternately as if walking. These studies showed that motor neurons generated at a given antero-posterior level in the spinal cord had intrinsic properties characteristic of that position. The spinal cord becomes demarcated into different regions along the antero-posterior axis by combinations of expressed Hox genes. A typical vertebrate limb contains more than 50 muscle groups with which neurons must connect in a precise pattern. Individual neurons express particular combinations of Hox genes, which determine which muscle they will innervate. So all together, expression of genes resulting from dorso-ventral position together with those resulting from antero-posterior position confers a virtually unique identity on functionally distinct sets of neurons in the spinal cord.

My knife is missing," Nohl said. "What does that matter?" Ferrier turned his eyes from the smoking volcanic peak on the horizon to the east and watched the waters of the bay dancing in glints of light from the lowering sun. On Khagodis the air is so thin that the stars are sometimes visible in daylight; now in the flaring blue Ferrier could see three of the system's other worlds. He had hooked the oxygen tube into the corner of his mouth and it bubbled slightly. Amber lights glinted on Nohl's scales. With a pearl talon he flicked away an insect buzzing near his eye and looked down at the the thin figure whose head came to his elbow. Ferrier was wearing white against the equatorial heat; his short jacket was closely fitted, and had double-breasted black buttons. Nohl was thinking that Ferrier's eyes were like the buttons, fixed and sharp on white skin. A thin skin over arrogance and greed.

What is an unusual habit or an absurd thing that you love? The really ridiculous thing, which I find totally life-changing is, at little pauses in our life, or when we need rejuvenation, I call [my wife] Elaine, and we sit or stand, and revisit a moment in our past by watching a music video on YouTube. It’s an extraordinary thing. If Proust had had YouTube, he wouldn’t have had to write À la recherche du temps perdu, because thanks to it, none of our past is ever lost. We can revisit it any time we like. There is our Back to the Future, there is our little piece of personal time travel, back to a time and a place earlier in our life that is rich in emotion, and it’s magically easy to do, and it takes almost no time at all.

Life is too short to go to work every day hating your job and representing people who are jerks.

Scheff continued, “The drugs being given to the children are toxic—they’re known to cause genetic mutation, organ failure, bone marrow death, bodily deformations, brain damage, and fatal skin disorders.15 “If the children refuse the drugs, they’re held down and force fed. If the children continue to resist, they’re taken to Columbia Presbyterian hospital, where a surgeon puts a plastic tube through their abdominal wall into their stomachs. From then on, the drugs are injected directly into their intestines.16 “In 2003, two children, ages six and twelve, had debilitating strokes due to drug toxicities. The six-year-old went blind. They both died shortly after. Another fourteen-year-old died recently. An eight-year-old boy had two plastic surgeries to remove large, fatty, drug-induced lumps from his neck.”17 “This isn’t science fiction. This is AIDS research.

I do have an interest in dissidents. My mother believes 5G may harm us, and I think she’s silly. But what of the nonconformist who warned back in 1940 that cigarettes kill? What of the contrarian who said the CIA was spying on Martin Luther King, Jr.? I mean, I’ve seen no evidence that 5G or the Covid vaccines are harmful. But have I done that research myself? No. I just trust the media would tell me if they were. My media. Whatever media my mom is consuming, they’re quoting “research, studies.” They’re slinging medical articles and YouTube videos of doctors saying that mRNA vaccines kill. A month before our road trip, she sent me one of these videos. It’s a clip of a longer talk, but even the clip is twelve minutes long. “Something to consider,” she wrote in the subject line. “Doctor calls out deadly vaccine!” Twelve minutes is annoyingly long for something I instinctively discredit, but short enough to give it a go. So I do. It’s a doctor on a stage with a PowerPoint. He has studies and graphs and lists of ingredients in tiny fonts and words like “embryonic stem cells.” I write my mom a long response. “OK I’m six minutes in and here are my thoughts: he’s using a lot of technical science speak that is above my pay grade. And so, what I’m doing is I’m trusting the lingo of an expert.

Many of film’s future Golden Age directors—Maurice Tourneur, Cecil B. De Mille, Michael Curtiz, F. W. Murnau, Kenji Mizoguchi, and Ernst Lubitsch—got their start grinding out horror films. In fact, among the eight films Tourneur made in 1913, his first year as a director, one was Le systeme du docteur Goudron et du professeur Plume (Dr. Goudron’s System), a horror short based on Poe’s story “The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether,” the original “lunatics take over the asylum” tale. (Tourneur’s director son, Jacques, would have a major impact on the horror film thirty years later.) The popular German serial Homunculus (1916), directed by Otto Rippert and written by Robert Reinert, centered on the story of the world’s first test-tube baby, who grows up to find he is immensely powerful but soulless, and

Here is a stark example. If you have time, I suggest watching the YouTube video of the January 2000 presentation by the president of Enron, Jeffrey Skilling, and his senior management on the launch of Enron Broadband.2 I dare you not to be impressed. The guys are poised, confident, and, at least to my eyes, extremely competent. It is hard to find fault with their strategy or vision, and their execution plan for broadband services seems spot on. However, in less than two years after this impressive presentation, Enron went bankrupt, and in 2006 Skilling was sent to prison for perpetrating a massive fraud.3 Except for a few short sellers, no professional analysts or investors could have guessed what was going on at Enron even though the management was quite open to the media and regularly gave interviews. I know what you are thinking. Am I building my entire case on an outlier like Enron? Let’s look at it another way. I assume you have read the interviews of many CEOs or company presidents. Did any mention that they don’t care for the customer, that they have stopped innovating, or that they hire people who have been rejected by other companies? Have you ever heard a company leader disparage their products or services or admit that their competition is doing a better job or that they are sick and tired of company politics?

Your focus is a scarce asset, which is why marketers spend billions of dollars to attract your attention. Many apps are designed to hook you. Social media companies like YouTube, Facebook, and Instagram know that the more time you spend on their platforms, the more money they make through advertising. Perhaps one of their greatest recent discoveries is the use of notifications. How many times have you opened an app just because a red notification pops up on your screen? And how much time did you waste subsequently? I wouldn’t be surprised if it ran into hundreds of hours each year.

Step #2. Add friction Generally speaking, the harder something is to access, the less likely you are to do it and vice-versa. This is why you must redesign your environment to make undesirable behaviors more difficult to engage in while making more desirable behaviors easier to conduct. Look at the habits or activities you want to eliminate and ask yourself how you could add friction—the more friction, the better. For instance: If your phone is your biggest distraction, remove all notifications or put it on airplane mode. Or, even better, switch it off and put it in a separate room. If Facebook is your biggest distraction, remove as many notifications as you can and/or use applications such as Newsfeed Eradicator (a Google Chrome extension). If you spend hours watching YouTube

What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? If you could remove failure from the equation and you knew success was a guarantee, what would you do? Would you write a book? Build an app? Open up your own restaurant? Produce music? Kick off your own fashion line? Start your own YouTube channel? Create your own podcast? Film a documentary? Fly planes? Set up a nonprofit organization? What’s your idea that you would love to go for if you knew it was going to succeed?

A platform is a raised, level surface on which people or things can stand. A platform business works in just that way: it allows users—producers and consumers of goods, services, and content— to create, communicate, and consume value through the platform. Amazon, Apple’s App Store, eBay, Airbnb, Facebook, LinkedIn, Pay- Pal, YouTube, Uber, Wikipedia, Instagram, etsy, Twitter, Snapchat, Hotel Tonight, Salesforce, Kickstarter, and Alibaba are all platform businesses. While these businesses have done many impressive things, the most relevant to us is that they have created an oppor- tunity for anyone, even those with limited means, to share their thoughts, ideas, creativity, and creations with millions of people at a low cost. Today, if you create a product or have an idea, you can sell that product or share that idea with a substantial audience quickly and cost-effectively through these platforms. Not only that, but the platforms arguably give more power to individuals than corporations since they’re so efficient at identifying ulterior motives or lack of authenticity. The communities on these platforms, many of whom are millennials, know when they’re being sold to rather than shared with, and quickly eliminate those users from their con- sciousness (a/k/a their social media feeds). Now, smaller organizations and less prosperous individuals are able to sell to or share their products, services, or content with more targeted demographics of people. That’s exactly what the modern consumer desires: a more personalized, connected experience. For example, a Brooklyn handbag designer can sell her handbags to a select group of customers through one of the multitude of fashion or shopping platforms and create an ongoing dialogue with her audience through a communication platform such as Instagram. Or an independent filmmaker from Los Angeles can create a short film using a GoPro and the editing software on their Mac and then instantly share it with countless people through one of a dozen video platforms and get direct feedback. Or an author can write a book and sell it directly from his or her website and social channels to anyone who’s excited about it. The reaction to standardization and globalization has been enabled by these platforms. Customers can get what they want, from whomever they want, whenever they want it. It’s a revised and personalized version of globalization that allows us to maintain and enhance the cultural connections that create the meaning we crave in our lives.

tube itself was fighting her in ways that it wouldn’t in space. Ruby was so used to not complaining, because she was short. Because she was a woman. Anything she said would be seen as a failure on her part. But the resistance was an NBLism and not a problem the actual spacewalker would face, and people’s lives were on the line.

Bending over the severed neck, his face less than an inch from the wound, he maneuvered his tweezers under the loupe, dug them into the neck—D’Agosta almost had to turn away—and stretched out what looked like a rubber band but was obviously a large vein. He snipped off a short piece and dropped it in a test tube, dug around some more, pulled out another vein, snipped and stored it, as well. And then he spent another several minutes examining the massive wound, the tweezers and test tubes in almost constant employment.

How Explainer Videos Work For Your Business If you wonder how to take your business to the next level, then explainer videos could be your answer. A short, crisp, informative piece of explainer video is the ultimate key to reach your ideal business leads. Henceforth, you need not worry about keeping your profits high. All you have to do is to invest a part of your money in getting quality, professional explainer videos to boost up your rankings on search engines. Google’s algorithm for search engine rankings includes a part that quantifies the amount of time spent by the visitors to your website. The longer time they spent, the higher will be your ranking. This is why your site needs an explainer video to keep the clock ticking for you. These videos are great ways to get the attention of your visitors; it really keeps them engaged for a long time, provided the videos are interesting. It has been found out that a human brain is more attentive to visuals rather than mere phrases. As readers spend only a few seconds to minutes on each site, quality content with a catchy title would grab their attention, but not always. On the other hand, if they confront an interesting and funny video, they will be attracted and urged to watch the content. That is why explainer videos are smart marketing tools. According to top marketing firms, websites with explainer videos rank higher than others in Google universal searches. In a business, an explainer video offers you a smart platform to reach your ideal customers and introduce your services to them with the reasons for them to choose you over your competitors. What could it be? An explainer video could be anything. You can share your identity, ideas, concepts, issues, solutions, products, services and even arguments. You can bring them all up with videos in just a few seconds. How long could it be? The shorter, the better. Videos more than a 90 seconds could be boring to your visitors. Keeping them short and engaging is the trick to make the visitors stay on your page, which in turn fetches the ranking. Here are a few reasons to justify the need for explainer videos for your business. 1. Creates a virtual connection: The most important aspect of online marketing is to showcase your personality in a smart manner. Your customer is with little or no contact with you in online business. So it is crucial to build a trustworthy bond with your customer to maintain a strong relationship. Explainer videos do this job for you; they offer you an identity that is recognized by your customers which wins their trust. 2. Gains popularity: A good and attractive explainer video is extremely contagious. It is not restricted to your website alone and can be shared with other video hosting sites like YouTube. This means your site gains popularity. People share videos on a higher scale rather than sharing web pages. Moreover, free video hosting sites like YouTube can be accessed even on a Smart phone which is an added advantage. 3. Holds all in one: Website clutter is a serious mistake that directly affects the rankings of a website. With the intention to hike rankings and boost sales, many website owners clutter their site with loads of images, colorful fonts, flash pictures and pop boxes. This could only have adverse effects on the site. It increases the load time of the website and leaves the visitors confounded that they wonder what your site conveys. On the contrary, an explainer video is can be designed to comprise all such smart aspects squeezed into a single video. 4. Resurrects your identity: PPT slides and pop up ads are obsolete and they don’t belong to this era of online business marketing. A colorful, funny and informative video with great visuals can do the magic; it grabs the attention of the audience. This is particularly suitable for multifaceted businesses with multiple products and services. You can create customized videos for each product and

If they would but picture to themselves the state of things that once existed, when through muddy streets rumbling boxes on wheels, drawn by horses—yes, by horses!—were the only means of conveyance. Think of the railroads of the olden time, and you will be able to appreciate the pneumatic tubes through which to-day one travels at the rate of 1000 miles an hour.

At 78 years of age, I discovered myself; and the most significant thing was, I realized it wasn't too late! Nothing in life can be said to be, "Too late." The expression, 'too late', is linked to time and as time is an illusion, thus, there is no such thing as 'too late.' Who says it's 'too late'? Why your Ego of course. Who is my Ego? The Ego is the Bot in your brain, whose job it is to ensure you don't perform any actions that could harm you, or cause you to make an idiot out of yourself. This Bot is wired with a logic that says, 'What you don't do won't harm you.' So, the surest way to stop you is to say, 'It's too late' The result? You stand there watching the back end of the tube train disappearing into the tunnel of Lost Opportunity.

there are excellent tools for network topology analysis. Gephi is one such tool, and their short YouTube video titled Introducing Gephi 0.7 gives a nice overview of the capabilities of this class of tool.

Mel was over at my house, prepping me for date night because she felt the need to sluttify my outfit so I could stand a chance against Clotile’s “free-balling lady lumps.” The girl had shown up at the game last night in a tube top and skintight boy shorts. I told myself Brand would’ve missed those plays anyway. Hey, we’d still managed to eke out a win.

Our first day’s run out of Pampatar was our best day’s run to date on the whole voyage from San Diego—171 miles. That’s over the twenty-four hours noon to noon. The second day’s run beat it—174 miles. On the evening of the third day out we were at anchor in Frederiksted, on the island of St. Croix. That’s 420 miles in sixty hours. That’s the crossing of the Caribbean Sea, from south to north, in two and a half days. That’s flying. Total fuel consumption—one pint of diesel oil to charge batteries. Breakages, nil; and that was a fully loaded trimaran—loaded to traditional, oceangoing monohull standards and more. There were, don’t forget, three months’ supplies of canned food for three men on board, plus the remaining dried and packaged food, say six weeks’ supply, plus eighty-two gallons of cheap diesel fuel and eighty-two gallons of fresh water, plus all our personal effects, the three of us, together with the ship’s equipment. That was a total payload of around four tons. I suggest that this is the most important statistic, besides the speed of the passage, in this account. I suggest that, together with the safety factors built into Outward Leg—the self-righting system, and the cool-tubes to prevent capsize—we realized at St. Croix that what we had under our feet was one of the fastest, and one of the safest, cruising vessels afloat under sail. Hitherto multihulls had been considered as either hair-shirt racing craft, for speed-drunk masochists with tiny appetites, or boxy floating sheds for short cruises and always downwind, because they were thought—and quite rightly in most instances—to have the windward ability of Carnegie Hall.

Quichotte when young had been a little short, a little chubby compared to other boys his age. Then, in late adolescence, as if an invisible divine hand had grabbed him and squeezed him in the middle like a tube of toothpaste, he shot up to his present height and became as skinny as a shadow.

He stood and walked to her. Beside her a bucket stood on the sand, filled with the little silver fish from the previous night. She gestured at the bucket, offering him some of the fish, and he saw that her hand was a thick mass of shiny dark brown, her fingers long tubes of lighter hollow brown, with bulbs at their ends. Like tubes of seaweed. And her coat was a brown frond of kelp, and her face a wrinkled brown bulb, popped by the slit of her mouth; and her eyes were polyps, smooth and wet. An animated bundle of seaweed. He knew this was wrong, but there she sat, and the sun was bright and it was hard to think. Many things inside his head has broken or gone away. He felt no particular emotion. He sat on the sand beside her fishing pole, trying to think. There was a thick tendril that fell from her lower back to her driftwood log, attaching her to it. He found he was puzzled. „Were you here lat night?” he croaked. The old woman cackled. „A wild one. The stars fell and the fish tried to become birds again. Spring.

Article F: Alternobaric Vertigo and Eustachian Tube Dysfunction. Charles D. Bluestone, MD; J. Douglas Swarts, PhD; Joseph M. Furman, MD, PhD; Robert F. Yellon, MD. Case Report: Persistent Alternobaric Vertigo at Ground Level due to Chronic Toynbee phenomenon. Laryngoscope 2012;122(4):868–72. The term “alternobaric vertigo” was coined by Lundgren in 1965 to describe vertigo in deep-sea divers, but also referred to aircraft pilots in 1966. It occurs during ascent and rarely descent and is a result of asymmetrical middle-ear pressures. Classically the vertigo due to this pathogenesis is transient but may last for several minutes. It is frequently associated with nausea and vomiting. It has been reproduced in pressure chamber experiments with some divers and fliers, but has not been reported spontaneously at ground level (Figure F–1). FIGURE F–1. Alternobaric vertigo can occur during ascent in an airplane or when scuba diving. We encountered a 15-year-old female with bilateral tympanostomy tubes who manifested persistent severe vertigo, at ground level, secondary to a unilateral middle-ear pressure of +200 mm H2O elicited by an obstructed tympanostomy tube in the presence of chronic nasal obstruction. She had had long-term tubes placed due to recurrent and chronic otitis media. Physical examination revealed achondroplasia, which is an autosomal dominate disorder characterized by abnormal bone growth, short arms and legs, short stature and a large head, which is associated with otitis media. The pathogenesis of otitis media in these individuals may be related to abnormal anatomy causing Eustachian tube dysfunction. Balance testing was abnormal, Eustachian tube function tests revealed dysfunction of tube. Surgery was performed to replace the obstructed tube with a patent one, and an adenoidectomy and bilateral inferior turbinate reduction to relieve the chronic nasal obstruction. Postoperatively balance testing was normal, Eustachian tube function remained dysfunctional, but she had complete resolution of her vertigo following the surgery. FIGURE F–2. Pathogenesis of alternobaric vertigo due to the “Toynbee phenomenon” One tympanostomy was obstructed and when swallowing, she developed high positive pressure in the middle ear, but in the ear with a patent tube, the pressure did not remain in the middle ear. We believed this was a previously unreported scenario in which closed-nose swallowing insufflated air into her middle ears, resulting in sustained positive middle-ear pressure in the ear with the obstructed tube. Swallowing, when the nose is obstructed, can result in abnormal negative or positive pressures in the middle ear, which has been termed the “Toynbee phenomenon.” We concluded that in patients who have vertigo, consideration should be given to the possibility that nasal obstruction and the “Toynbee phenomenon” are involved (Figure F–2). CHAPTER 7 PATHOLOGY The pathology of the ET may or may not be involved in the pathogenesis of otitis media, whereas the

So in this Hemisphere when the moon goes down, I sit in one of those all-night-into-mornings cafes, watching short short skies below the skyscrapers and low-rises and sense the big turntables turning and the roadies setting up from stadium to stadium from L.A. to New York and all north and south and east and west and in between – and i know there must be a lot of kids who aren't sleeping but listening to their muse – iPad-ing and YouTubing...and the final shore ain't no shore at all but a long ether cable cyperspacing us together – cutting the continent in half.

The short pieces of his black hair are spiked out every which way. The poor lighting from the singular bulb on the ceiling over the shower exaggerates the dark circles under his eyes. He looks rough. And why I find it incredibly hot is beyond me. “Late night?” I ask. I’m staring. I shouldn’t stare. Biting back a smirk at his disheveledness, I pull the band out of my hair, pretending that I need to redo my ponytail. Really, I just need a distraction. “I’m going back to work today,” I say, when he doesn’t reply. He snatches my hand to keep me from putting my hair back up. “It is lovely down,” he says softly. I’m frozen, watching him in the mirror as he smooths a section of my hair, grazing my bare neck with his fingers. Everything Chiara’s said about him rushes to the front of my mind. “Don’t,” I tell him, immediately wishing I hadn’t. His hands are at my waist in an instant and he rotates me, pinning me between him and the counter. “Why?” Because your cousin already wants to kill me for kissing you. Because I like it too much. Because you make me feel wanted. I clear my throat. “Because you haven’t brushed your teeth yet.” I twist my upper body around and grab his toothbrush--the neon green one. I squeeze out a bead of toothpaste from my tube, get the brush wet, and hold it close to his mouth. With the tiniest hint of a smile, Bruno opens his mouth maybe half an inch and shifts his body even closer to mine. His eyes dart down to my lips and back to my eyes, down and up, down and up, leaning closer. I should dodge him but I don’t--can’t. All I can do is stare at his mouth, knowing full well I don’t really care if he’s brushed his teeth yet or not. Our noses nearly touch. He tilts his head to his right, I tilt mine to my right. We’re lined up and ready for impact. His warm breath tickles my chin as he whispers, “Grazie.” He turns his head, wraps his mouth around the toothbrush, taking it from me, and walks out of the bathroom.

On the count of zero, the forty-two-foot-long missile with a one-megaton nuclear warhead should have stirred awake. The men in the control center had braced for the huge jolt of compressed air they expected would hurl the missile out of its tube before its liquid fuel ignited for a short, powerful run to the target. The target was easily within range of the Serb-type missile ready in tube number one.

The syncopator goes here. It’s a multi-access gyro-valve to regulate flow. The dozen glass tubes on the outside? Those are filled with powerful, dangerous stuff. That glowing red one is Lemnos fire from my dad’s forges. This murky stuff here? That’s water from the River Styx. The stuff in the tubes is going to power the ship, right? Like radioactive rods in a nuclear reactor. But the mix ratio has to be controlled, and the timer is already operational.” Leo tapped the digital clock, which now read 65:15. “That means without the syncopator, this stuff is all going to vent into the chamber at the same time, in sixty-five minutes. At that point, we’ll get a very nasty reaction.” Jason and Piper stared at him. Leo wondered if he’d been speaking English. Sometimes when he was agitated he slipped into Spanish, like his mom used to do in her workshop. But he was pretty sure he’d used English. “Um…” Piper cleared her throat. “Could you make the short explanation shorter?” Leo palm-smacked his forehead. “Fine. One hour. Fluids mix. Bunker goes ka-boom. One square mile of forest turns into a smoking crater.

She’s posted a couple of clips on YouTube and she’s really good but they just won’t listen. Parents should be banned by law.

When he left a short time later he found himself wandering, even though by now he'd oriented himself and knew how to get back to the Tube station. Cold rain, the sidewalk shining, the shhh of car tires on the wet street. Thinking about the terrible gulf of years between eighteen and fifty.

Consider the numbers: there are 3 billion Internet users worldwide; every day we produce approximately 2.5 billion gigabytes of data, perform 4 billion Google searches, and watch 10 billion YouTube videos. In the short time it took you to read the last sentence, approximately 530,243 new Google searches were executed and 1,184,390 YouTube videos played around the globe.

Bent through shieldings of every color, size and shape. Rolled over panel plates, huge racks of glowing tubes, elaborate transceivers. Tumbled down long surfaces of gleaming bakelite. Plunged through color-indexed files of resistors and capacitances . . . . . . . here machine and man learn to work very intimately together. As he drifted through the machine tooled nightmare, Marquis knew what he had been fighting all his life, what he would continue to fight with every grain of ingenuity. Mechanization—the horror of losing one’s identity and becoming part of an assembly line. He could hear a clicking sound as tubes sharpened and faded in intensity. The clicking—rhythm, a hypnotic rhythm like the beating of his own heart—the throbbing and thrumming, the contracting and expanding, the pulsing and pounding . . . . . . . the machines and the nervous system of the workers become slowly cooperative. * Beds were spaced ten feet apart down both sides of a long gray metal hall. There were no cells, no privacy, nothing but beds and the gray metalene suits with numbers printed across the chest. His bed, with his number printed above it, was indicated to him, and the guard disappeared. He was alone. It was absolutely silent. On his right a woman lay on a bed. No. 329. She had been here a long time. She appeared dead. Her breasts rose and fell with a peculiarly steady rhythm, and seemed to be coordinated with the silent, invisible throbbing of the metal walls. She might have been attractive once. Here it didn’t make any difference. Her face was gray, like metal. Her hair was cropped short. Her uniform was the same as the man’s on Marquis’ left. The man was No. 4901. He hadn’t been here so long. His face was thin and gray. His hair was dark, and he was about the same size and build as Marquis. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were closed and there was a slight quivering at the ends of the fingers which were laced across his stomach. “Hello,” Marquis said. The man shivered, then opened dull eyes and looked up at Marquis. “I just got in. Name’s Charles Marquis.” The man blinked. “I’m—I’m—No. 4901.” He looked down at his chest, repeated the number. His fingers shook a little as he touched his lips. Marquis said.

Can You Buy Old Gmail Accounts in 2024? Whatsapp: ‪+1 (623) 213-2971 Telegram:@Seoitshop Email:Seoitshop@gmail.com Yes, you can buy old Gmail accounts in 2024, and the demand for them is higher than ever due to their immense value across multiple online industries. Old Gmail accounts—those created years ago and aged over time—are seen as more trustworthy, reliable, and less likely to trigger security verifications or spam filters. Whether for digital marketing, SEO campaigns, managing multiple business profiles, or even accessing platforms that require verified email accounts, these aged Gmail addresses are a valuable commodity. The concept isn’t new, but in today’s competitive digital landscape, it has become a practical solution for marketers, developers, and online business owners who need an edge. However, purchasing old Gmail accounts comes with its own set of opportunities and risks. To understand why people buy old Gmail accounts, how to safely acquire them, and what they can be used for, it’s important to look at this topic through a modern lens—one shaped by evolving security practices, stricter spam policies, and the increasing importance of digital authenticity. Why Old Gmail Accounts Are Valuable Old Gmail accounts hold more value than new ones primarily because of trust and longevity. Google’s systems are built to monitor account behavior, and new accounts are often treated with suspicion until they have a history of legitimate usage. Accounts that were created years ago, especially those with activity such as logins, sent emails, or used in other Google services, are far less likely to be flagged or suspended. This makes them ideal for marketers running campaigns through platforms like YouTube, Google Ads, or email outreach. Additionally, old Gmail accounts typically bypass many of the newer account limitations that apply to freshly created ones, such as email sending restrictions or verification requirements. They are also more resilient when used to create or manage business profiles across services like Google My Business or YouTube, where credibility and trust matter a lot. In short, aged Gmail accounts are seen by Google’s algorithms as “seasoned,” which translates into fewer restrictions and more reliability. Who Buys Old Gmail Accounts? There are many different types of buyers in the market for old Gmail accounts. Digital marketers are at the top of the list—they often need multiple verified email accounts to run advertising campaigns, manage email outreach, or access different tools and platforms. SEO specialists buy old accounts to create profiles, comment on forums, or post on websites without being marked as spam. Entrepreneurs and startup founders purchase these accounts to manage different branches of their businesses or to launch products with an existing, reputable email infrastructure. App developers and beta testers also use old Gmail accounts to test login flows, app authentication, or Google APIs without interference from modern-day restrictions. Even social media influencers and growth hackers turn to aged Gmail accounts to manage multiple YouTube or Google accounts without raising flags. This broad use across many industries makes old Gmail accounts highly desirable and increasingly sought-after. What Makes a Gmail Account “Old”? The term "old Gmail account" typically refers to any account that is more than one or two years old. However, the older the account, the more valuable it is. A Gmail account from 2015 or earlier can be significantly more beneficial than one from 2021. The key factors that define the “age” of a Gmail account include its creation date, activity history, and whether it has been used in any of Google’s other services like Google Drive, Google Maps, or YouTube. Active accounts that have sent and received emails or participated in Google platforms are particularly valuable because they appear more legitimate and organic to Google's security systems.