Special Announcement Quotes

A strange mood has seized the almost-educated young. They're on the march, angry at times, but mostly needful, longing for authority's blessing, its validation of their chosen identities. The decline of the West in new guise perhaps. Or the exaltation and liberation of the self. A social-media site famously proposes seventy-one gender options – neutrois, two spirit, bigender…any colour you like, Mr Ford. Biology is not destiny after all, and there's cause for celebration. A shrimp is neither limiting nor stable. I declare my undeniable feeling for who I am. If I turn out to be white, I may identify as black. And vice versa. I may announce myself as disabled, or disabled in context. If my identity is that of a believer, I'm easily wounded, my flesh torn to bleeding by any questioning of my faith. Offended, I enter a state of grace. Should inconvenient opinions hover near me like fallen angels or evil djinn (a mile being too near), I'll be in need of the special campus safe room equipped with Play-Doh and looped footage of gambolling puppies. Ah, the intellectual life! I may need advance warning if upsetting books or ideas threaten my very being by coming too close, breathing on my face, my brain, like unwholesome drugs.

I appreciate the scientific rigor with which you’ve approached this project, Anna,” said Christopher, who had gotten jam on his sleeve. “Though I don’t think I could manage to collect that many names and also pursue science. Much too time-consuming.” Anna laughed. “How many names would you want to collect, then?” Christopher tilted his head, a brief frown of concentration crossing his face, and did not reply. “I would only want one,” said Thomas. Cordelia thought of the delicate tracery of the compass rose on Thomas’s arm, and wondered if he had any special person in mind. “Too late for me to only have one,” declared Matthew airily. “At least I can hope for several names in a carefully but enthusiastically selected list.” “Nobody’s ever tried to seduce me at all,” Lucie announced in a brooding fashion. “There’s no need to look at me like that, James. I wouldn’t say yes, but I could immortalize the experience in my novel.” “It would be a very short novel, before we got hold of the blackguard and killed him,” said James. There was a chorus of laughter and argument. The afternoon sun was sinking in the sky, its rays catching the jeweled hilts of the knives in Anna’s mantelpiece. They cast shimmering rainbow patterns on the gold-and-green walls. The light illuminated Anna’s shabby-bright flat, making something in Cordelia’s heart ache. It was such a homey place, in a way that her big cold house in Kensington was not. “What about you, Cordelia?” said Lucie. “One,” said Cordelia. “That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it, really? Instead of many who give you little pieces of themselves—one who gives you everything.” Anna laughed. “Searching for the one is what leads to all the misery in this world,” she said. “Searching for many is what leads to all the fun.

Eisenhower, in contrast, turned spirituality into spectacle. At a transition meeting with his cabinet nominees, he announced that they and their families were invited to a special religious service at National Presbyterian Church the morning of the inauguration.

Most peasants did not miss the school. "What's the point?" they would say. "You pay fees and read for years, and in the end you are still a peasant, earning your food with your sweat. You don't get a grain of rice more for being able to read books. Why waste time and money? Might as well start earning your work points right away." The virtual absence of any chance of a better future and the near total immobility for anyone born a peasant took the incentive out of the pursuit of knowledge. Children of school age would stay at home to help their families with their work or look after younger brothers and sisters. They would be out in the fields when they were barely in their teens. As for girls, the peasants considered it a complete waste of time for them to go to school. "They get married and belong to other people. It's like pouring water on the ground." The Cultural Revolution was trumpeted as having brought education to the peasants through 'evening classes." One day my production team announced it was starting evening classes and asked Nana and me to be the teachers. I was delighted. However, as soon as the first 'class' began, I realized that this was no education. The classes invariably started with Nana and me being asked by the production team leader to read out articles by Mao or other items from the People's Daily. Then he would make an hour-long speech consisting of all the latest political jargon strung together in undigested and largely unintelligible hunks. Now and then he would give special orders, all solemnly delivered in the name of Mao.

Behind the tall-backed and elaborately wrought chairs, stand the servants, men and maidens—fifteen in number—discriminately selected, not only with a view to their industry and faithfulness, but with special regard to their personal appearance, their graceful agility and captivating address. Some of these are armed with fans, and are fanning reviving breezes toward the over-heated brows of the alabaster ladies; others watch with eager eye, and with fawn-like step anticipate and supply wants before they are sufficiently formed to be announced by word or sign.

The blending, of course, is the challenge. Most creatures who are special cannot seem to stop themselves from announcing the fact, despite the dangers that come with being different from the rest of your species. If you tie a red string around a wren’s leg, the others in the flock will peck it to death.

Nathan does have a special nickname he uses when he address me," Sarah announced then,drawing her husband's attention. " You have my permision to use it,too." "Oh? Colin asked.He caught the surprise look on Nathan's face and became all the more curious."And what might that be?" "Damn it, Sara" Colin couldn't believe he'd heard correctly. "Did you say ---" "Nathan usually addresses me as Damn It Sara. Don't you dear?" she asked her husband. "Colin,you may also ---" As if on cue,Nathan muttered,"Damn it, Sara, don't push me.I . . .

The Internet is a beautiful thing and you sent a tweet an hour after we met that day: I smell cheeseburgers. #CornerBistroIsMakingMeFat And let me tell you, for a moment there, I was concerned. Maybe I wasn’t special. You didn’t even mention me, our conversation. Also: I talk to strangers is a line in your Twitter bio. I talk to strangers. What the fuck is that, Beck? Children are not supposed to talk to strangers but you are an adult. Or is our conversation nothing to you? Am I just another stranger? Is your Twitter bio your subtle way of announcing that you’re an attention whore who has no standards and will give audience to any poor schmuck who says hello? Was I nothing to you? You don’t even mention the guy in the bookstore? Fuck, I thought, maybe I was wrong. Maybe we had nothing. But then I started to explore you and you don’t write about what really matters. You wouldn’t share me with your followers. Your online life is a variety show, so if anything, the fact that you didn’t put me in your stand-up act means that you covet me. Maybe even more than I realize...

I got hold of a copy of the video that showed how Saddam Hussein had actually confirmed himself in power. This snuff-movie opens with a plenary session of the Ba'ath Party central committee: perhaps a hundred men. Suddenly the doors are locked and Saddam, in the chair, announces a special session. Into the room is dragged an obviously broken man, who begins to emit a robotic confession of treason and subversion, that he sobs has been instigated by Syrian and other agents. As the (literally) extorted confession unfolds, names begin to be named. Once a fellow-conspirator is identified, guards come to his seat and haul him from the room. The reclining Saddam, meanwhile, lights a large cigar and contentedly scans his dossiers. The sickness of fear in the room is such that men begin to crack up and weep, rising to their feet to shout hysterical praise, even love, for the leader. Inexorably, though, the cull continues, and faces and bodies go slack as their owners are pinioned and led away. When it is over, about half the committee members are left, moaning with relief and heaving with ardent love for the boss. (In an accompanying sequel, which I have not seen, they were apparently required to go into the yard outside and shoot the other half, thus sealing the pact with Saddam. I am not sure that even Beria or Himmler would have had the nerve and ingenuity and cruelty to come up with that.)

Worried about the wrong things and not worried about the right things. The tendency to stick to mostly “safe” stories means you’ll see a lot of so-called day-of-air reports on topics that won’t generate pushback from the special interests we care about. Think: weather, polls, surveys, studies, positive medical news, the pope, celebrities, obituaries, press conferences, government announcements, animals, the British royals, and heartwarming features. They fill airtime much like innocuous white noise.

My hair is hungry,” announced Carol. That brought the conversation to its second screeching halt in as many minutes, as everyone turned to stare at the gorgon.

There are surprising things you might not know. There’s a transition. The Almighty doesn’t announce His final disposition right away. Not because He needs time to consider your case. I think that’s been decided already. But, I have learned, because He wants to give us time to think over what has happened to us. It wouldn’t be fair if we couldn’t express ourselves honestly. I mean, the Almighty told me that during this period—what is it, two days or two thousand human years? Who knows, because in this realm I’m in now there is no such thing as human time—we have a special dispensation. We can express our anger, our happiness, our disappointment, and so on. Whatever human emotions we once possessed, we get to cling to a while longer, until we move on to our final destination. There’s nothing we can do to hurt anyone from this platform.

Aw, here is the owner of your sac,” Vaughn announced when I appeared. “Take good care of it, darlin. Judd lives a dangerous life and balls are occasionally necessary.” “He can sign them out for special occasions.

The DJ stopped the music and turned on the stage lights. Zatanna stepped up and approached the microphone. "And here's our special musical guests tonight, direct from Innsmouth," she announced. "The Esoteric Order of Dagon Choir! Let's all given them a hand!

In 2004,I offered priority (book)-signing to smokers, the reason being that, because they didn't have as long to live, their time was more valuable. Four years later my special treatment was reserved for men who stood five-foot-six and under. "That's right, my little friends," I announced. "There'll be no waiting in line for you." It seemed unfair to restrict myself to men, so I included any woman with braces on her teeth. "What about us?" asked the pregnant and the lame. And because it was my show, I told them to wait their f***ing turn.

There were bright balloons flying on both sides of the porch announcing the specialness of this day. It was what balloons did best, staying useful only for the amount of time your celebration lasted, physical symbols of that blast of happy and deflating when real life came back.

If the body becomes a special focus for women's struggle for freedom then what is ingested is a logical initial locus for announcing one's independence. Refusing the male order in food, women practiced the theory of feminism thorugh their bodies and their choice of vegetarianism.

Don’t give up! Your therapist author Dossie specializes in healing old wounds for trauma survivors and is happy to announce that many people find ways to deal with their history of violation, take care of themselves when painful memories show up, succeed in reclaiming ownership of their bodies, and enjoy a free and happy sexuality.

The band in the ballroom announced the cover of a special request, and after a pause, the woman's voice sang out the breathy first line of Etta James's "At Last." Chairs barked as guests rose to greet the champion of all wedding songs, the one that always brought indifferent or fighting or estranged couples to the dance floor for momentary reconciliation.

When Kevin Rudd announced that Australia would bid for a non-permanent seat on the Security Council Tony Abbott announced his immediate opposition. The bid would be abandoned in the event of a Coalition victory at the 2010 election, he pledged. The total cost was then estimated at perhaps $40 million, though ended up at around $25 million.16 For perspective, the Victorian Government spent $56.7 million to subsidise the Grand Prix in 2012 alone.17

On 20 March 1982, on the occasion of the Iranian new year, Khomeini announced that ‘as a special favour’ schoolboys between the ages of 12 and 18 years would be allowed to join the Basij and to fight for their country. Consequently scores of youths volunteered for action and were hastily recruited and provided with ‘Passports to Paradise’, as the admission forms were called. They were then given rudimentary military training, of a week or so, by the Pasdaran, and sent to the front where many of them ‘martyred’ themselves.

In 2004, I offered priority (book)-signing to smokers, the reason being that, because they didn't have as long to live, their time was more valuable. Four years later my special treatment was reserved for men who stood five-foot-six and under. "That's right, my little friends," I announced. "There'll be no waiting in line for you." It seemed unfair to restrict myself to men, so I included any woman with braces on her teeth. "What about us?" asked the pregnant and the lame. And because it was my show, I told them to wait their f***ing turn.

A public service announcement from that era, designed to combat littering, featured an Indian man (the actor Iron Eyes Cody, who was actually Sicilian) in full dress walking through a modern United States covered in litter. In the final frame, he sheds a single tear. All of this fit with the hippie-themed back-to-the-land movement that romanticized Indigenous people as much as taking them seriously. It was also of a piece with earlier responses to Native Americans. After removing them from their land, preventing them from becoming a threat, Americans often claimed to admire the special virtues of Native peoples, who were supposed to possess a unique spirit. They named towns after them, states, later sports franchises. That iconic commercial with the “Crying Indian” played to the idea that Indigenous people have a spiritual connection to the land that others do not possess. The people who took their land did not appreciate it, or care for it properly. This was almost a half-hearted confession that what had happened was wrong. That didn’t mean the land would be given back to them, of course.

He spent two years in the extermination camp at Auschwitz. According to his own reluctant account, he came this close to going up a smokestack of a crematorium there: "I had just been assigned to the Sonderkommando," he said to me, "when the order came from Himmler to close the ovens down." Sonderkommando means special detail. At Auschwitz it meant a very special detail indeed--one composed of prisoners whose duties were to shepherd condemned persons into gas chambers, and then to lug their bodies out. When the job was done, the members of the Sonderkommando were themselves killed. The first duty of their successors was to dispose of their remains. Gutman told me that many men actually volunteered for the Sonderkommando. "Why?" I asked him. "If you would write a book about that," he said, "and give the answer to that question, that 'Why?'--you would have a very great book." "Do you know the answer?" I said. "No," he said, "That is why I would pay a great deal of money for a book with the answer in it." "Any guesses?" I said. "No," he said, looking me straight in the eye, "even though I was one of the ones who volunteered." He went away for a little while, after having confessed that. And he thought about Auschwitz, the thing he liked least to think about. And he came back, and he said to me: "There were loudspeakers all over the camp," he said, "and they were never silent for long. There was much music played through them. Those who were musical told me it was often good music--sometimes the best." "That's interesting," I said. "There was no music by Jews," he said. "That was forbidden." "Naturally," I said. "And the music was always stopping in the middle," he said, "and then there was an announcement. All day long, music and announcements." "Very modern," I said. He closed his eyes, remembered gropingly. "There was one announcement that was always crooned, like a nursery rhyme. Many times a day it came. It was the call for the Sonderkommando." "Oh?" I said. "Leichentärger zu Wache," he crooned, his eyes still closed. Translation: "Corpse-carriers to the guardhouse." In an institution in which the purpose was to kill human beings by the millions, it was an understandably common cry. "After two years of hearing that call over the loudspeakers, between the music," Gutman said to me, "the position of corpse-carrier suddenly sounded like a very good job.

Curiously enough, though, it was Jeanette who came home one day with a C on a test. Prior to that, B was the lowest grade any of us had gotten, and even a B caused Mommy to shake her head and ask, 'Did anyone in the class get an A? Then you can get an A, too. You just have to study harder.' But this time she looked at the C on Jeanette's paper and said nothing. Wasn't she going to lay into Jeanette? Was Doc so special that she could get away with anything? The rest of us were stunned. I, for one, resolved that if that's the way it was going to be, I was darned if I was going to work so hard at studying from then on. Then Saturday came. Mommy roused Jeanette at 6:00 A.M., told her to dress in old clothes, and ordered her to the kitchen, where she handed Jeanette a bucket and scrub clothes. 'You and I are going to clean the kitchen from top to bottom,' Mommy announced. 'I'm going to teach you how to do it and do every bit of it right because that's what you're going to be doing for a living when you grow up'. Jeanette was outraged. 'I'm going to be a doctor'! 'Anybody who gets a C on a test is either too dumb or too lazy to be a doctor. You're going to end up working in somebody's kitchen, so you'd better know how to do it. Now, start by scouring the oven. And I want it spotless'.

There is a question that has been haunting me,’ he replied over the sound of the first horns announcing column formation. ‘How does a mortal win over a god? Has it ever happened before, even? Has the old order been overturned? Or is this just … special circumstance? A moment unique in all of history?’ ‘You have won the Worm of Autumn to her cause, Priest?’ At Lostara’s question, Banaschar frowned. He studied her for a moment, and then glanced at Ruthan Gudd. ‘You look shocked,’ he said to him. ‘Is it that I somehow possessed that power? Or is it the very idea that what we do in this mortal world – with our lives, with our will – could make a god kneel before us?’ Then he shook his head. ‘But you both misunderstood me. I was not speaking of myself at all. I cannot win over a god, even when I am the last priest in that god’s House. Don’t you understand? It’s her. She did it. Not me.’ ‘She spoke to your god?’ Banaschar grunted. ‘No, Lostara. She rarely speaks at all – you of all people should know that by now. No. Instead, she simply refused to waver from her path, and by that alone she has humbled the gods. Do you understand me? Humbled them.’ Ruthan Gudd shook his head. ‘The gods are too arrogant to ever be humbled.’ ‘A year ago, lying drunk on my cot, I would have agreed with you, Captain. So tell me now, will you fight for her?’ His eyes were thinned as he studied Banaschar, and then he said, ‘With all my heart.’ The gasp that came from Lostara was almost a sob.

The reality is that Facebook has been so successful, it’s actually running out of humans on the planet. Ponder the numbers: there are about three billion people on the Internet, where the latter is broadly defined as any sort of networked data, texts, browser, social media, whatever. Of these people, six hundred million are Chinese, and therefore effectively unreachable by Facebook. In Russia, thanks to Vkontakte and other copycat social networks, Facebook’s share of the country’s ninety million Internet users is also small, though it may yet win that fight. That leaves about 2.35 billion people ripe for the Facebook plucking. While Facebook seems ubiquitous to the plugged-in, chattering classes, its usage is not universal among even entrenched Internet users. In the United States, for example, by far the company’s most established and sticky market, only three-quarters of Internet users are actively on FB. That ratio of FB to Internet user is worse in other countries, so even full FB saturation in a given market doesn’t imply total Facebook adoption. Let’s (very) optimistically assume full US-level penetration for any market. Without China and Russia, and taking a 25 percent haircut of people who’ll never join or stay (as is the case in the United States), that leaves around 1.8 billion potential Facebook users globally. That’s it. In the first quarter of 2015, Facebook announced it had 1.44 billion users. Based on its public 2014 numbers, FB is growing at around 13 percent a year, and that pace is slowing. Even assuming it maintains that growth into 2016, that means it’s got one year of user growth left in it, and then that’s it: Facebook has run out of humans on the Internet. The company can solve this by either making more humans (hard even for Facebook), or connecting what humans there are left on the planet. This is why Internet.org exists, a vaguely public-spirited, and somewhat controversial, campaign by Facebook to wire all of India with free Internet, with regions like Brazil and Africa soon to follow. In early 2014 Facebook acquired a British aerospace firm, Ascenta, which specialized in solar-powered unmanned aerial vehicles. Facebook plans on flying a Wi-Fi-enabled air force of such craft over the developing world, giving them Internet. Just picture ultralight carbon-fiber aircraft buzzing over African savannas constantly, while locals check their Facebook feeds as they watch over their herds.

A strange mood has seized the almost-educated young. They’re on the march, angry at times, but mostly needful, longing for authority’s blessing, its validation of their chosen identities. The decline of the West in new guise perhaps. Or the exaltation and liberation of the self. A social-media site famously proposes seventy-one gender options—neutrois, two spirit, bigender…any colour you like, Mr. Ford. Biology is not destiny after all, and there’s cause for celebration. A shrimp is neither limiting nor stable. I declare my undeniable feeling for who I am. If I turn out to be white, I may identify as black. And vice versa. I may announce myself as disabled, or disabled in context. If my identity is that of a believer, I’m easily wounded, my flesh torn to bleeding by any questioning of my faith. Offended, I enter a state of grace. Should inconvenient opinions hover near me like fallen angels or evil djinn (a mile being too near), I’ll be in need of the special campus safe room equipped with Play-Doh and looped footage of gambolling puppies. Ah, the intellectual life! I may need advance warning if upsetting books or ideas threaten my very being by coming too close, breathing on my face, my brain, like unwholesome dogs.

short buzz followed, then silence. “They want to get rid of us,” said Trillian nervously. “What do we do?” “It’s just a recording,” said Zaphod. “We keep going. Got that, computer?” “I got it,” said the computer and gave the ship an extra kick of speed. They waited. After a second or so came the fanfare once again, and then the voice. “We would like to assure you that as soon as our business is resumed announcements will be made in all fashionable magazines and color supplements, when our clients will once again be able to select from all that’s best in contemporary geography.” The menace in the voice took on a sharper edge. “Meanwhile, we thank our clients for their kind interest and would ask them to leave. Now.” Arthur looked round the nervous faces of his companions. “Well, I suppose we’d better be going then, hadn’t we?” he suggested. “Shhh!” said Zaphod. “There’s absolutely nothing to be worried about.” “Then why’s everyone so tense?” “They’re just interested!” shouted Zaphod. “Computer, start a descent into the atmosphere and prepare for landing.” This time the fanfare was quite perfunctory, the voice now distinctly cold. “It is most gratifying,” it said, “that your enthusiasm for our planet continues unabated, and so we would like to assure you that the guided missiles currently converging with your ship are part of a special service we extend to all of our most enthusiastic clients, and the fully armed nuclear warheads are of course merely a courtesy detail. We look forward to your custom in future lives…. Thank you.

investigations and reported the completion of significant investigations without charges. Anytime a special prosecutor is named to look into the activities of a presidential administration it is big news, and, predictably, my decision was not popular at the Bush White House. A week after the announcement, I substituted for the attorney general at a cabinet meeting with the president. By tradition, the secretaries of state and defense sit flanking the president at the Cabinet Room table in the West Wing of the White House. The secretary of the treasury and the attorney general sit across the table, flanking the vice president. That meant that, as the substitute for the attorney general, I was at Vice President Dick Cheney’s left shoulder. Me, the man who had just appointed a special prosecutor to investigate his friend and most senior and trusted adviser, Scooter Libby. As we waited for the president, I figured I should be polite. I turned to Cheney and said, “Mr. Vice President, I’m Jim Comey from Justice.” Without turning to face me, he said, “I know. I’ve seen you on TV.” Cheney then locked his gaze ahead, as if I weren’t there. We waited in silence for the president. My view of the Brooklyn Bridge felt very far away. I had assured Fitzgerald at the outset that this was likely a five- or six-month assignment. There was some work to do, but it would be a piece of cake. He reminded me of that many times over the next four years, as he was savagely attacked by the Republicans and right-leaning media as some kind of maniacal Captain Ahab, pursuing a case that was a loser from the beginning. Fitzgerald had done exactly as I expected once he took over. He investigated to understand just who in government had spoken with the press about the CIA employee and what they were thinking when they did so. After careful examination, he ended in a place that didn’t surprise me on Armitage and Rove. But the Libby part—admittedly, a major loose end when I gave him the case—

THEORY OF ALMOST EVERYTHING After the war, Einstein, the towering figure who had unlocked the cosmic relationship between matter and energy and discovered the secret of the stars, found himself lonely and isolated. Almost all recent progress in physics had been made in the quantum theory, not in the unified field theory. In fact, Einstein lamented that he was viewed as a relic by other physicists. His goal of finding a unified field theory was considered too difficult by most physicists, especially when the nuclear force remained a total mystery. Einstein commented, “I am generally regarded as a sort of petrified object, rendered blind and deaf by the years. I find this role not too distasteful, as it corresponds fairly well with my temperament.” In the past, there was a fundamental principle that guided Einstein’s work. In special relativity, his theory had to remain the same when interchanging X, Y, Z, and T. In general relativity, it was the equivalence principle, that gravity and acceleration could be equivalent. But in his quest for the theory of everything, Einstein failed to find a guiding principle. Even today, when I go through Einstein’s notebooks and calculations, I find plenty of ideas but no guiding principle. He himself realized that this would doom his ultimate quest. He once observed sadly, “I believe that in order to make real progress, one must again ferret out some general principle from nature.” He never found it. Einstein once bravely said that “God is subtle, but not malicious.” In his later years, he became frustrated and concluded, “I have second thoughts. Maybe God is malicious.” Although the quest for a unified field theory was ignored by most physicists, every now and then, someone would try their hand at creating one. Even Erwin Schrödinger tried. He modestly wrote to Einstein, “You are on a lion hunt, while I am speaking of rabbits.” Nevertheless, in 1947 Schrödinger held a press conference to announce his version of the unified field theory. Even Ireland’s prime minister, Éamon de Valera, showed up. Schrödinger said, “I believe I am right. I shall look an awful fool if I am wrong.” Einstein would later tell Schrödinger that he had also considered this theory and found it to be incorrect. In addition, his theory could not explain the nature of electrons and the atom. Werner Heisenberg and Wolfgang Pauli caught the bug too, and proposed their version of a unified field theory. Pauli was the biggest cynic in physics and a critic of Einstein’s program. He was famous for saying, “What God has torn asunder, let no man put together”—that is, if God had torn apart the forces in the universe, then who were we to try to put them back together?

Every special human being strives instinctively for his own castle and secrecy, where he is saved from the crowd, the many, the majority—where he can forget the rule-bound "people," for he is an exception to them;—but for the single case where he is pushed by an even stronger instinct straight against these rules, as a person who seeks knowledge in a great and exceptional sense. Anyone who, in his intercourse with human beings, does not, at one time or another, shimmer with all the colours of distress—green and gray with disgust, surfeit, sympathy, gloom, and loneliness—is certainly not a man of higher taste. But provided he does not take all this weight and lack of enthusiasm freely upon himself, always keeps away from it, and stays, as mentioned, hidden, quiet, and proud in his castle, well, one thing is certain: he is not made for, not destined for, knowledge. For if he were, he would one day have to say to himself, "The devil take my good taste! The rule-bound man is more interesting than the exception—than I am, the exception!"— and he would make his way down , above all, "inside." The study of the average man—long, serious, and requiring much disguise, self-control, familiarity, bad company - (all company is bad company except with one’s peers):—that constitutes a necessary part of the life story of every philosopher, perhaps the most unpleasant, foul-smelling part, the richest in disappointments. But if he’s lucky, as is appropriate for a fortunate child of knowledge, he encounters real shortcuts and ways of making his task easier; I’m referring to the so-called cynics, those who, as cynics, simply recognize the animal, the meanness, the "rule-bound man" in themselves and, in the process, still possess that degree of intellectual quality and urge to have to talk about themselves and people like them before witnesses;—now and then they even wallow in books, as if in their very own dung. Cynicism is the single form in which common souls touch upon what honesty is, and the higher man should open his ears to every cruder and more refined cynicism and think himself lucky every time a shameless clown or a scientific satyr announces himself directly in front of him. There are even cases where enchantment gets mixed into the disgust—for example, in those places where, by some vagary of nature, genius is bound up with such an indiscreet billy-goat and ape; as in the Abbé Galiani, the most profound, sharp-sighted, and perhaps also the foulest man of his century—he was much deeper than Voltaire and consequently a good deal quieter. More frequently it happens that, as I’ve intimated, the scientific head is set on an ape’s body, a refined and exceptional understanding in a common soul; among doctors and moral physiologists, for example, that’s not an uncommon occurrence. And where anyone speaks without bitterness and quite harmlessly of men as a belly with two different needs and a head with one, everywhere someone constantly sees, looks for, and wants to see only hunger, sexual desires, and vanity, as if these were the real and only motivating forces in human actions, in short, wherever people speak "badly" of human beings—not even in a nasty way—there the lover of knowledge should pay fine and diligent attention; he should, in general, direct his ears to wherever people talk without indignation. For the indignant man and whoever is always using his own teeth to tear himself apart or lacerate himself (or, as a substitute for that, the world, or God, or society) may indeed, speaking morally, stand higher than the laughing and self-satisfied satyr, but in every other sense he is the more ordinary, the more trivial, the more uninstructive case. And no one lies as much as the indignant man.

Della Street, Perry Mason’s confidential secretary, said, “A couple of lovebirds have strayed into the office without an appointment. They insist it’s a matter of life and death.” “Everything is,” Mason said. “If you start with the idea of perpetuating life, you must accept the inevitable corollary of death—but I presume these people aren’t interested in my philosophical ideas.” “These people,” Della Street announced, “are interested in each other, in the singing of the birds, the blue of the sky, the moonlight on water, the sound of the night wind in the trees.” Mason laughed. “It’s infectious. You are getting positively romantic, poetic, and show evidence of having been exposed to a highly contagious disease . . . . Now, what the devil would two lovebirds want with the services of a lawyer who specializes in murder cases?

The American government also seemed unwilling to admit that Jews were worse off than any other persecuted group. Despite regular reports of the threat to European Jewry from as early as 1940, and despite Roosevelt’s unequivocal announcement in March 1944 of ‘one of the blackest crimes of all history … the wholesale, systematic murder of the Jews of Europe’, Americans seemed reluctant to believe that the Holocaust was really taking place.17 Even within Roosevelt’s administration there was scepticism, and senior figures like Secretary of War Henry Stimson and his assistant John McCloy regarded ‘special pleading’ by Jews with suspicion.

the Western contingent and took the two leaders captive, and then seized all who were with them. The flag was torn and stamped into the dust, the captives were imprisoned and put to torture for their boldness in daring to invade the country. In great joy this good news was carried back to the capital. Once again the Western men were routed. The Emperor praised Tzu Hsi heartily and gave her a gold coffer filled with jewels. Then he announced seven days of feasting in the nation and in the palaces special theatricals

When I announced to my family that I wanted to add an American name, they reacted with their usual laughter. Never one to let mockery or good judgment stand in my way, I proceeded to ask for suggestions. My father suggested “Fifi.” Had I had a special affinity for French poodles or been considering a career in prostitution, I would’ve

As if on cue, Roo strolled out of the bakery, carrying a huge cinnamon roll in one hand and a giant cappuccino in the other. She wore a black taffeta miniskirt, black tights, black ballet slippers, and a black tank top over a purple T-shirt. Watching her a moment, Parker turned to the others and sighed. “Look at her. Fashion Goddess of the Dark Realm.” “She’s creative,” Ashley emphasized. “And her realm isn’t always a bad place to be.” “Neither is hell. If you’re the Antichrist.” This earned Parker a slug on the arm. Grinning, he pulled Ashley close and kissed her. “Don’t even ask,” Roo announced as she joined them. “These are mine, and I’m not sharing.” Gage promptly tore off a fourth of the cinnamon roll and popped it in his mouth. Etienne took a third of what was left. Roo stood there looking down at her practically empty napkin. “You didn’t need that, anyway,” Ashley insisted. “All those calories.” Parker gave Roo a serious once-over. “Since when has Roo cared about calories? No, wait. Since when has Roo cared about clothes? No, wait. Since when has Roo cared about how she looks?” He stared at Gage. Gage stared at Etienne. Etienne stared at Parker. “Since when has Roo cared about anything?” they all asked in unison. Feeling a little envious, Miranda observed the good-natured teasing. The kids back home hadn’t shared this kind of camaraderie. Not that they hadn’t been close--their own special group of girls and guys--but what Miranda saw here was different. Stronger, somehow. Like a real family. Miranda refocused on the three boys. Roo didn’t seem the least bit bothered by their comments. As Gage reached for the last bite of cinnamon roll, Roo stuffed it quickly into her mouth. Etienne just as quickly snatched the cappuccino from her other hand.

The spinothalamic system, on the other hand, runs through the “grey matter” of the cord, so named because it has no white fatty insulation sheaths around its axons. Their spatial orientation is not nearly so carefully preserved at all levels, and they make many more internuncial synaptic junctions on their way up the cord. Their transmission speed is roughly one-fifth of that of the dorsal tract. This system carries impulses which announce pain; thermal sensations, both hot and cold; crude touch sensations that are not acutely localized; pressure sensations that do not rely upon fine distinctions; kinesthetic sensations having to do with chronic conditions, or the body at rest; tickles and itches; and sexual sensations. It is a fact of considerable significance to our reflex responses that pain sensations are carried exclusively by the slower spinothalamic pathway. This means that more neutral and at the same time more detailed sensory information will always reach the spinal circuits and the cortex slightly before the stab of pain arrives. This gives us a brief moment to assess the location and the cause of the pain before we react, so that our reflex withdrawal can be more appropriately tailored to the actual source of the pain and more effectively directed; that is, so that we will be able to assess the intensity of the burn, and will be sure to jerk away from the flame rather than towards it, and will arrest our jerk before we crash into the wall. This time lag gives a special role to general tactile sensations—including body work—when we are in pain. It means that it is possible to bombard the consciousness with more rapidly transmitted and more detailed touch sensations which tend to displace the pain response from the foreground. This is why rubbing the spot that hurts, or jumping up and down, or shaking the injured hand are often effective for alleviating pain. This is the principle behind the mother’s instinctual rocking and stroking of her hurt child, and it is a principle that can be turned to great advantage in bodywork. If the rest of the body can be inundated with touch sensations, particularly pleasurable ones, the part that is in pain can be shifted away from the mind’s central focus. On the other hand, this very same mechanism presents a danger: By keeping ourselves busy, and by forcing our attention onto other matters, it is possible to suppress pain signals which may be very important, possible to bury our awareness of threatening conditions beneath a layer of faster, more acute, but more trivial sensations. The mind’s mechanisms of selection and focus can play tricks that are nasty as well as ones that are helpful. One of the principal strengths of bodywork is that it can generate the sensory information—the self awareness—that is necessary for the individual to identify and gain control over conflicting tendencies of this kind.

and many tough life choices, Gwen must decide who or what she will become. Fleet Cadet or Civilian? Friend or lover? Average or extraordinary? Can she make new friends? Can she trust the old ones, such as Logan Sangre, her sexy high school crush and an Earth special operative? Time and time again, Gwen’s uncanny ability to come up with the best answer in a crisis saves her life and others. And now, her unique Logos voice makes her an extremely valuable commodity to the Atlanteans—so much so that her enigmatic commanding officer Aeson Kassiopei, who is also the Imperial Prince of Atlantis, has taken an increasingly personal interest in her. Before the end of the journey, Gwen must convince him that she has what it takes to compete in the deadly Games of the Atlantis Grail. It’s becoming apparent—the life of her family and all of Earth depends on it. COMPETE is the second book in The Atlantis Grail series. Don’t miss another book by Vera Nazarian! Subscribe to the mailing list to be notified when the next books by Vera Nazarian are available. We promise not to spam you or chit-chat, only make occasional book release announcements.

Email 1 : A special announcement to introduce the product. Use your best hook or angle on what the product does for the prospect and give them a link to the purchase page. If you’re doing some kind of discount or special offer (such as free shipping), announce that in this email as well. Email 2 : I call this the “what people are saying” or social proof email. People want to know that they're not the only ones buying the product, so put reviews or testimonials for your product in the email and say, “Look what Mary said when she got the product!” Email 3 : The last chance email. Throw in some scarcity. Tell your prospect that the special price or free shipping expires tonight, you’re running out of stock, or whatever type of scarcity you are using. When I do a promotion, I offer the discount with a time limit of around 72 hours.

In an attempt to head off such stinging and potentially damaging criticism both Rockefeller and Carnegie poured hundreds of millions of dollars into public works. In Rockefeller’s case the money went to Chicago University, the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research (today Rockefeller University), and the General Education Board that announced it would teach children ‘to do in a perfect way the things their fathers and mothers are doing in an imperfect way’. In 1913 he and his son established the Rockefeller Foundation that remains one of the richest charitable organisations in the world. Carnegie too used his money to encourage education. His grand scheme was to fund the opening of libraries, and between 1883 and 1929 more than 2,000 were founded all over the world. In many small towns in America and in Britain, the Carnegie Library is still one of their most imposing buildings, always specially designed and built in a wide variety of architectural styles. In 1889, Carnegie wrote his Gospel of Wealth first published in America and then, at the suggestion of Gladstone, in Britain. He said that it was the duty of a man of wealth to set an example of ‘modest, unostentatious living, shunning display or extravagance’, and, once he had provided ‘moderately’ for his dependents, to set up trusts through which his money could be distributed to achieve in his judgement, ‘the most beneficial result for the community’. Carnegie believed that the huge differences between rich and poor could be alleviated if the administration of wealth was judiciously and philanthropi-cally managed by those who possessed it. Rich men should start giving away money while they lived, he said. ‘By taxing estates heavily at death, the state marks its condemnation of the selfish millionaire’s unworthy life.

A public service announcement aired right afterward, with the actress who played Jennifer - who was twenty-three at the time - warning girls what a big step sex was and how they should be well informed and prepared. I wondered why they never gave boys these kinds of warnings. Why, when a guy scored on TV, they didn't break away with a special message, with the scene's star cautioning young men that once you fuck, you'll never be the same.

And inevitably, a neutered “Jesus” gives us piles of little neutered Christians. But what God has in mind is the complete renovation of the world. Jesus didn’t send His apostles out to start a social club, a special interest group, or a new “religion” that could be filed in the yellow pages, right there between Cats and Creeps. Jesus didn’t send His apostles out to make deals, to compromise, and offer alternative lifestyles. Jesus claimed all authority in heaven and on earth. He claimed all of it, and sent His apostles to announce that claim in the words of the gospel and to enact it with water, bread, and wine, with His full authority.

Within days it was announced by the Central Committee that Lenin would not be buried next to his mother, as he had requested, but that his body would be embalmed and buried in the Kremlin Wall (and soon in a specially built mausoleum he remains to this day). His widow, Nadezhda Krupskaya, opposed this and further asked that nothing be named after him […] She was ignored, just as she was ignored in her request that Lenin’s “Testament” be read out to the Party Congress. Instead, Petersburg would now become Leningrad, the 21 January was to become a day of national mourning, and statues (which Lenin reputedly said were only good for “collecting bird shit”) would soon appear everywhere.

At 1:11 a.m. on Sunday, August 13, the East German radio service interrupted their Night-time Melodies show for a special announcement: “The government of the States of the Warsaw Pact appeal to the parliament and government of the GDR and suggest that they ensure that the subversion against the countries of the Socialist Bloc is effectively barred and a reliable guard is set up around the whole area of Berlin.” The message was clear, but many in the West didn’t hear it, as tuning into East German radio programs for enjoyment was unheard of. The

What, then, is this innocent painter’s special talent? Baudelaire describes Guys—and other such innovative artists—as similar to a child who possesses a ready openness and interest in surrounding things and people, no matter how ordinary or trivial. An innovative artist’s special talent is that very childlike sensibility meshed with the grown-up’s capacity for understanding and following through on a task. “Genius is the capacity to retrieve childhood at will,” Baudelaire announced. The capacity to retrieve childhood at will. Genius, like wonder, is an active trait, not an innate talent. You can track and foster wonder. You can create a new view of yourself and thus of the world around you.

Shannon grasped that the administration’s blanket new approach threatened to stifle all the ongoing refugee and immigration programs at a stroke: “The administration announces that people coming from certain countries need to be vetted in a special way or need special visa processing, like Iran. Then you end up with a scientist from Cambridge University in the UK, who’s lived in Great Britain all his life but still has an Iranian passport, suddenly is stopped at Boston airport and told he can’t go to the conference at Harvard. And that person calls Cambridge and Cambridge calls Boris Johnson and Boris Johnson calls somebody, and so there was a whole effort that had to be made to kind of fix what was coming out of the White House. And at that time, in the very early days, General Kelly was at DHS. And I knew Kelly well, from his days first as Leon Panetta’s military aide, but then as US Southern Command combatant commander. And so Kelly and I would get on the phone and say, ‘Okay, how are we going to figure this out?’ So we would create these small working groups, and his staff and my staff would then try to fix what was being presented. So that was a kind of immediate and everyday example of how we tried to fix things.

and the chef has just added a special of scallops, chorizo and black pudding served with a whisky crème sauce and a selection of seasonal vegetables.’ The waitress said this with a level of surprise and delight that Millicent would have considered more appropriate to announcing that the chef had just concocted a cure for cancer and would presumably be serving it with a jus of world peace and a foam of nuclear fusion.

To a highly literate and mechanized culture the movie appeared as a world of triumphant illusions and dreams that money could buy. It was at this moment of the movie that cubism occurred, and it has been described by E. H. Gombrich (Art and Illusion) as “the most radical attempt to stamp out ambiguity and to enforce one reading of the picture — that of a man-made construction, a colored canvas.” For cubism substitutes all facets of an object simultaneously for the “point of view” or facet of perspective illusion. Instead of the specialized illusion of the third dimension on canvas, cubism sets up an interplay of planes and contradiction or dramatic conflict of patterns, lights, textures that “drives home the message” by involvement. This is held by many to be an exercise in painting, not in illusion. In other words, cubism, by giving the inside and outside, the top, bottom, back, and front and the rest, in two dimensions, drops the illusion of perspective in favor of instant sensory awareness of the whole. Cubism, by seizing on instant total awareness, suddenly announced that the medium is the message. Is it not evident that the moment that the sequence yields to the simultaneous, one is in the world of the structure and of configuration? Is that not what has happened in physics as in painting, poetry, and in communication? Specialized segments of attention have shifted to total field, and we can now say, “The medium is the message” quite naturally.

The Meeker Massacre, as newspapers across the country labeled it, gave Governor Pitkin an opportunity to make a special announcement to the press about the Ute threat: “My idea is that, unless removed by the government, they must necessarily be exterminated.” He pointed out “The advantages that would accrue from the throwing open of twelve million acres of land to miners and settlers. . . .” In August 1881 the U.S. Army force-marched virtually all of the Colorado Utes 350 miles to a reservation on a desolate stretch of land near Roosevelt, Utah.

Myanmar Review Exploration: Driving the Manner in which in Statistical surveying and Social Overviews Myanmar Study Exploration is a conspicuous name in the field of top research company in Myanmar, assessments of public sentiment, and social reviews. With a promise to conveying exact and quick information, the organization has laid down a good foundation for itself as a forerunner in the business, taking special care of the different necessities of clients in Myanmar and then some. Statistical surveying Aptitude Myanmar Review Exploration has cut a specialty for itself in the space of statistical surveying. The organization utilizes a scope of techniques to accumulate significant experiences into shopper conduct, market patterns, and industry elements. Through top to bottom investigation and far reaching studies, the group at Myanmar Overview Exploration furnishes organizations with the data they need to settle on informed choices and remain in front of the opposition. Assessments of public sentiment and Social Overviews Notwithstanding top research company in Myanmar, Myanmar Overview Exploration succeeds in gathering information and social studies. These drives are intended to measure general assessment, figure out friendly mentalities, and catch the common feeling on different issues. By utilizing powerful overview procedures and factual investigation, the organization conveys reports that offer a window into the considerations and inclinations of the general population, enabling associations and policymakers to adjust their techniques to the beat of the country. Unrivaled Bits of knowledge What sets Myanmar Review Exploration separated is its resolute obligation to conveying unmatched experiences. The organization's group of experienced specialists and experts guarantees that each venture yields information that isn't just thorough yet additionally noteworthy. By utilizing a mix of subjective and quantitative exploration techniques, Myanmar Overview Exploration can introduce an all encompassing perspective regarding the matters under study, empowering clients to acquire a more profound comprehension of their objective business sectors and crowds. Client-Driven Approach Myanmar Review Exploration values its client-driven approach. The organization perceives that every client is extraordinary, with explicit exploration needs and goals. Thusly, it tailors its examination procedures and announcing arrangements to line up with the necessities of individual clients, guaranteeing that the experiences gave are straightforwardly pertinent and significant. This customized approach has procured Myanmar Overview Exploration the trust and dedication of a different customer base traversing different businesses. Looking Forward As Myanmar's business scene keeps on advancing, the job of exploration and information driven independent direction turns out to be progressively significant. Myanmar Study Exploration stays at the very front of this change, ready to fulfill the developing need for top notch research administrations. With an emphasis on development, precision, and significant knowledge, the organization is strategically set up to keep molding the fate of statistical surveying and social studies in Myanmar and then some. All in all, Myanmar Overview Exploration remains as a guide of greatness in the domain of examination, offering extensive and solid experiences that drive accomplishment for its clients. With a history of greatness and a pledge to remaining on the ball, the organization is set to lead the way in molding informed techniques and choices for organizations and associations across Myanmar.

IRCC Announces Eligible Programs for PGWPs Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) has updated its guidelines regarding the programs eligible for a Post-Graduation Work Permit (PGWP). As of November 1, international graduates applying for a PGWP must meet additional field of study requirements to qualify for this essential work permit. Eligible Fields of Study for PGWPs The eligible fields of study for the PGWP correspond to the occupation-based Express Entry categories introduced by IRCC in 2023. These categories are aligned with national labor market demands and include the following: • Agriculture and Agri-Food • Healthcare • Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) • Trade • Transport Eligible programs in these fields are classified using the Classification of Instructional Programs (CIP), a systematic approach to describing and categorizing educational programs in Canada, akin to the National Occupation Classification (NOC) system used for job classification. Below is a summary of selected instructional programs eligible for the PGWP, along with their respective CIP codes: CIP 2021 Title CIP 2021 Code Field of Study Category Agricultural business and management, general 01.0101 Agriculture and agri-food Animal/livestock husbandry and production 01.0302 Agriculture and agri-food Plant nursery operations and management 01.0606 Agriculture and agri-food Animal health 01.0903 Agriculture and agri-food Agronomy and crop science 01.1102 Agriculture and agri-food Special education and teaching, general 13.1001 Healthcare Exercise physiology 26.0908 Healthcare Physical therapy assistant 51.0806 Healthcare Polysomnography 51.0917 Healthcare Cytotechnology/cytotechnologist 51.1002 Healthcare Computer programming/programmer, general 11.0201 STEM Chemical engineering 14.0701 STEM Engineering mechanics 14.1101 STEM Water, wetlands and marine resources management 03.0205 STEM Computer graphics 11.0803 STEM Electrician 46.0302 Trade Heating, air conditioning, ventilation and refrigeration maintenance technology/technician 47.0201 Trade Machine tool technology/machinist 48.0501 Trade Insulator 46.0414 Trade Plumbing technology/plumber 46.0503 Trade Heavy equipment maintenance technology/technician 47.0302 Transport Air traffic controller 49.0105 Transport Truck and bus driver/commercial vehicle operator and instructor 49.0205 Transport Flight instructor 49.0108 Transport Transportation and materials moving, other 49.9999 Transport

사다리해킹픽 Swlook.com 가입코드 : win24 「〃Swlook.cℴm〃가입코드: win24〃」 단폴제제없는 메이저 사설놀이터 Swing 입니다. 신규가입 첫충 10% / 매일충전 5% Event 진행중 네임드사다리 로하이 농구쿼터실시간 스타 롤 등등, 타 업체 대비 최고의 배당률 & 다양한 경기 지원! 다폴더보너스,스페셜보너스 등 다양한 이벤트를 통해 머니 지급! 까다로운 보안으로 여러분의 안전을 책임집니다.Announcer: You have heard the story called, "A Horseman in the Sky." It was written by Ambrose Bierce, and adapted for Special English by Dona de Sanctis. Your storyteller was Roy Depew.

John was born to a priestly family of impeccable credentials. With approximately eighteen thousand priests in first-century Israel, the opportunity that Zechariah received to minister in the Holy Place in the temple was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. The angel's announcement identified the child to be born as special.

Another cause of dissension and disagreement is the fact that religion has been pronounced at variance with science. Between scientists and the followers of religion there has always been controversy and strife for the reason that the latter have proclaimed religion superior in authority to science and considered scientific announcement opposed to the teachings of religion. Bahá’u’lláh declared that religion is in complete harmony with science and reason. If religious belief and doctrine is at variance with reason, it proceeds from the limited mind of man and not from God; therefore, it is unworthy of belief and not deserving of attention; the heart finds no rest in it, and real faith is impossible. How can man believe that which he knows to be opposed to reason? Is this possible? Can the heart accept that which reason denies? Reason is the first faculty of man, and the religion of God is in harmony with it. Bahá’u’lláh has removed this form of dissension and discord from among mankind and reconciled science with religion by revealing the pure teachings of the divine reality. This accomplishment is specialized to Him in this Day.

God is not a robot. He isn’t a comptroller of an accounting company trying to make things add up or work out. He is a being full of deep emotion, longing, and memories of what it used to be like. The incarnation therefore isn’t about an equation but about remembering what home used to be like and making a plan to get back there. Consider this reboot of the Genesis creation account. It may help you see God’s emotion a little better. First off, nothing … but God. No light, no time, no substance, no matter. Second off, God says the word and WHAP! Stuff everywhere! The cosmos in chaos: no shape, no form, no function—just darkness … total. And floating above it all, God’s Holy Spirit, ready to play. Day one: Then God’s voice booms out, “Lights!” and, from nowhere, light floods the skies and “night” is swept off the scene. God gives it the big thumbs up, calls it “day”. Day two: God says, “I want a dome—call it ‘sky’—right there between the waters above and below.” And it happens. Day three: God says, “Too much water! We need something to walk on, a huge lump of it—call it ‘land’. Let the ‘sea’ lick its edges.” God smiles, says, “Now we’ve got us some definition. But it’s too plain! It needs colour! Vegetation! Loads of it. A million shades. Now!” And the earth goes wild with trees, bushes, plants, flowers and fungi. “Now give it a growth permit.” Seeds appear in every one. “Yesss!” says God. Day four: “We need a schedule: let’s have a ‘sun’ for the day, a ‘moon’ for the night; I want ‘seasons’, ‘years’; and give us ‘stars’, masses of stars—think of a number, add a trillion, then times it by the number of trees and we’re getting there: we’re talking huge! Day five: “OK, animals: amoeba, crustaceans, insects, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals … I want the whole caboodle teeming with a million varieties of each—and let’s have some fun with the shapes, sizes, colours, textures!” God tells them all, “You’ve got a growth permit—use it!” He sits back and smiles, says, “Result!” Day six: Then God says, “Let’s make people—like us, but human, with flesh and blood, skin and bone. Give them the job of caretakers of the vegetation, game wardens of all the animals.” So God makes people, like him, but human. He makes male and female.… He smiles at them and gives them their job description: “Make babies! Be parents, grandparents, great-grandparents—fill the earth with your families and run the planet well. You’ve got all the plants to eat from, so have all the animals—plenty for all. Enjoy.” God looks at everything he’s made, and says, “Fantastic. I love it!” Day seven: Job done—the cosmos and the earth complete. God takes a bit of well-earned R&R and just enjoys. He makes an announcement: “Let’s keep this day of the week special, a day off—battery-recharge day: Rest Day.”2 I’m not normally a paraphrase guy, but we always read the creation story like a textbook. I love this rendition because it captures the enthusiastic emotion that God felt about everything He created, especially humans. He loved it all. He loved us. Most of all, He loved the way things were.

Business was booming for Tiffany & Co. in the late 1990s, thanks to the introduction of a new affordable silver jewellery line. The $110 silver charm bracelet inscribed with the Tiffany name was coveted by teenage girls, causing sales of the new silver product line to skyrocket 67% between 1997 and 2002. By 2003, company earnings had doubled and the silver jewellery line accounted for a third of Tiffany’s U.S. sales. And yet the queues of excited girls didn’t fill the store managers with joy. Sure, sales were up and stores were busy, but the people close to the brand, who understood its heritage, began to worry that this lower price point would forever change how the brand was perceived by its high-end customers. “We didn’t want the brand to be defined by any single product.” —Michael Kowalski, CEO, Tiffany & Co. Despite some unease from investors, Tiffany raised prices on their most popular silver products by 30% over the next three years and managed to halt the growth of their highly profitable silver line. And so the company sacrificed short-term gain and profits for the long-term good of the brand by telling the story they wanted customers to believe—that Tiffany’s represents something special. A client recently told me about her friend’s excited engagement announcement on Facebook. All she did was post a photo of the Tiffany blue box—not a picture of the ring in sight. The box alone was enough to say everything she wanted to say. QUESTIONS FOR YOU How are you least like the competition?

CONCERT CHECKLIST 1. Secure a date on the calendar. Be sure it is listed on the official school calendar to protect it. 2. Reserve a performance venue for the concert and for final rehearsals. 3. Have tickets printed if they are to be used. 4. Plan the printed program and get it to the printer by the deadline date. 5. Plan the publicity. The following types of publicity can be utilized to draw a sizable concert audience: Radio releases Television releases Newspaper releases Online listings School announcements Notices to other schools and/or organizations in the area Posters for public placement 6. Send complimentary tickets to: Civic leaders Board of Education Superintendent People who have helped in some way Key supporters Key people to stimulate their interest 7. Have the president of the choir send personal letters of invitation to people that are special to the music program (newspaper editor, Board of Education, Superintendent, civic club presidents, supporters etc.). 8. Appoint a stage manager. He should be someone who can control the stage lighting, pull curtains, shut off air circulation fans that are noisy, and see that the stage is ready for the concert. 9. Arrange for ushers. 10. Check wearing apparel. Be sure that all singers have the correct accessories (same type and color of shoes, no gaudy jewelry for girls, etc.). 11. Post on bulletin board and tell students the time they will meet for a pre-concert warm-up. High school students will perform best if they meet together at least forty-five minutes before the concert.

So the Ukraine came to resemble “one vast Belsen.” 93 A population of “walking corpses” struggled to survive on a diet of roots, weeds, grass, bark and furry catkins.94 They devoured dogs, cats, snails, mice, ants, earth-worms. They boiled up old skins and ground down dry bones. They even ate horse-manure for the whole grains of seed it contained. Cannibalism became so commonplace that the OGPU received a special directive on the subject from Moscow and local authorities issued hundreds of posters announcing that “EATING DEAD CHILDREN IS BARBARISM.” 95 Some peasants braved machine-guns in desperate assaults on grain stockpiles. Others robbed graves for gold to sell in Torgsin shops. Parents unable to feed their offspring sent them away from home to beg. Cities such as Kiev, Kharkov, Dnepropetrovsk, Poltava, Odessa and Belgorod were overrun by pathetic waifs with huge heads, stunted limbs and swollen bellies. Arthur Koestler said that they “looked like embryos out of alcohol bottles.” 96

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When Oscar announced he was leaving to pursue his medical studies at the University of Vienna, specializing in Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery after his Sekham service, I was sad that our triplet relationship was coming to an end. After his departure, Andy consoled and comforted me, guiding me to regain an emotionally stable footing. My Valet loved me unconditionally and had hoped I would follow him to Christchurch, New Zealand when he left to pursue his engineering studies. I did not.

Hamoudi explains soothingly that all will soon be well. The holes in the bedroom are being stopped up with plaster. More whitewash will be applied. Moreover, a cat is coming; it has been loaned out. It is a super-cat—a highly professional cat. ... Our cat arrives at dinner-time. I shall never forget that at! It is, as Hamoudi has announced, a highly professional cat. It knows the job for which it has been engaged, and proceeds to get on with it in a truly specialized manner. Whilst we dine, it crouches in ambush behind a packing case. When we talk, or move, or make too much noise, it gives us an impatient look. "I must request of you," the look says, "to be quiet. How can I get on with the job without co-operation?" So fierce is the cat's expression that we obey at once, speak in whispers, and eat with as little clinking of plates and glasses as possible. Five times during the meal a mouse emerges and runs across the floor, and five times our cat springs. The sequel is immediate. There is no Western dallying, no playing with the victim. The cat simply bites off the mouse's head, crunches it up, and proceeds to the rest of the body! It is rather horrible and completely businesslike. The cat stays with us five days. After those five days no mice appear. The cat then leaves us, and th emice never come back. I have never known before or since such a professional cat. It had no interest in us, it never demanded milk or a share of our food. It was cold, scientific, and impersonal. A very accomplished cat!

I mean, he asked for the keys to the truck last night and brought them back earlier this morning.  Truck’s fixed.  I checked myself.  So, I’m wondering what you said to him.” My mouth popped open.  I couldn’t believe he’d actually listened to me.  A silly smile tugged at my mouth.  Did this really mean he’d let me go?  My barely formed smile faded.  Or would I just wake up back in this apartment tomorrow morning if I tried to leave? Sam continued to remake the bed with the clean sheets from the hidden compartment in the matching sofa ottoman. There had to be a catch.  Sam had told me a tied pair didn’t part until completing the Claim.  When Clay had scented me, and I’d recognized him openly, the Elders saw us as a pair.  They, in turn, announced it to everyone over their mental link.  Every werewolf, whether in a pack or Forlorn, recognized our tie.  If my words truly changed Clay’s mind, great—but Sam’s question caused me to begin to doubt that possibility, and I struggled to come up with what I’d overlooked. “The truth,” I said answering Sam’s question.  “Let’s say he is my Mate.  He’s an uneducated man from the backwoods.  How are we going to live?  I can’t turn on the fur like you guys can and live as a wolf like he’s done for most of his life.  Where does that leave us?  I just pointed out that I had to go to school to get the education I needed to land a good job to support myself because he can’t.” Sam had stopped remaking the bed and looked at me in disbelief. “Well, I said it nicer than that.” He gave me a disappointed look. “You don’t know anything about him, Gabby.  He may have lived most of his life in his fur, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t intelligent or that he’s more wolf than man.  You may have caused yourself more trouble than you intended.” I shifted against the door.  “Hold on, I didn’t say either of those things to him.”  Granted, I did tell him he needed to bathe.  “And what do you mean ‘more trouble’?” “He said that you suggested he live with you so you could get to know each other better.” I froze in disbelief.  That is not what I said. “Wait.  Did he actually talk to you?” “Well, I had to put on my fur to understand him since he was in his, but yes.” Sam’s kind communicated in several ways when in their fur—typically, through body language or howls.  Claimed and Mated pairs shared a special bond using an intuitive, mental link.  Once establishing a Claim, the pair could sense strong emotions as well as each other’s location.  Mated pairs had the same ability to communicate with each other as the Elders had with everyone in the pack. I closed my eyes and thought back to my exact wording. “I didn’t say we should live together, but that he should come back with me to get an education.”  Fine, I hadn’t worded it well, but how did he get “hey, we should live together” out of that? “Like I said, you’ve got trouble.”  He gave me another disappointed look, folded the bed back into the sofa, then picked up his bag from the floor.  He strode to the bathroom and closed the door on any further conversation. Crap.  I needed to talk to Clay again and find out what he intended.  I’d been counting on his feral upbringing and his need for freedom to cause him to reject my suggestion—a suggestion that hadn’t included him living with me.  I’d meant he should find a place nearby so we could go through the motions of human dating, which was the extent of my willingness to compromise.  I hadn’t thought he’d take any of it seriously but that, instead, he would just let me go. I

Our Wordy World OVER THE LAST few decades we have been inundated by a torrent of words. Wherever we go we are surrounded by words: words softly whispered, loudly proclaimed, or angrily screamed; words spoken, recited, or sung; words on records, in books, on walls, or in the sky; words in many sounds, many colors, or many forms; words to be heard, read, seen, or glanced at; words which flicker off and on, move slowly, dance, jump, or wiggle. Words, words, words! They form the floor, the walls, and the ceiling of our existence. It has not always been this way. There was a time not too long ago without radios and televisions, stop signs, yield signs, merge signs, bumper stickers, and the ever-present announcements indicating price increases or special sales. There was a time without the advertisements which now cover whole cities with words.

After I paid my admission fee, I saw that the reptile enclosures were kept perfectly clean--the snakes glistened. I kept rescued animals myself at home. I knew zoos, and I knew the variety of nightmares they can fall into. But I saw not a sign of external parasites on these animals, no old food rotting in the cages, no feces or shed skin left unattended. So I enjoyed myself. I toured around, learned about the snakes, and fed the kangaroos. It was a brilliant, sunlit day. “There will be a show at the crocodile enclosures in five minutes,” a voice announced on the PA system. “Five minutes.” That sounded good to me. I noticed the crocodiles before I noticed the man. There was a whole line of crocodilians: alligators, freshwater crocodiles, and one big saltie. Amazing, modern-day dinosaurs. I didn’t know much about them, but I knew that they had existed unchanged for millions of years. They were a message from our past, from the dawn of time, among the most ancient creatures on the planet. Then I saw the man. A tall, solid twentysomething (he appeared younger than he was, and had actually turned twenty-nine that February), dressed in a khaki shirt and shorts, barefoot, with blond flyaway hair underneath a big Akubra hat and a black-banded wristwatch on his left wrist. Even though he was big and muscular, there was something kind and approachable about him too. I stood among the fifteen or twenty other park visitors and listened to him talk. “They can live as long as or even longer than us,” he said, walking casually past the big saltwater croc’s pond. “They can hold their breath underwater for hours.” He approached the water’s edge with a piece of meat. The crocodile lunged out of the water and snapped the meat from his hand. “This male croc is territorial,” he explained, “and females become really aggressive when they lay eggs in a nest.” He knelt beside the croc that had just tried to nail him. “Crocodiles are such good mothers.” Every inch of this man, every movement and word exuded his passion for the crocodilians he passed among. I couldn’t help but notice that he never tried to big-note himself. He was there to make sure his audience admired the crocs, not himself. I recognized his passion, because I felt some of it myself. I spoke the same way about cougars as this Australian zookeeper spoke about crocs. When I heard there would be a special guided tour of the Crocodile Environmental Park, I was first in line for a ticket. I had to hear more. This man was on fire with enthusiasm, and I felt I really connected with him, like I was meeting a kindred spirit. What was the young zookeeper’s name? Irwin. Steve Irwin.

Diane Louise Jordan Diane Louise Jordan is a British television presenter best known for her role in the long-running children’s program Blue Peter, which she hosted from 1990 until 1996. She is currently hosting BBC1’s religious show, Songs of Praise. Also noted for her charity work, Diane Louise Jordan is vice president of the National Children’s Home in England. Despite never having met her, when her tragic death was announced, I took it personally, like countless others. How had she been able to captivate me--a complete stranger--who initially hadn’t really thought that much of her? What was it about her that compelled me on so many levels? What was, and still is, the Diana Factor? There’s much that can be said about the people’s princess’s unique influence--much of which has been recorded many times over--but simply put, perhaps her greatest asset is that she connected. She chose to care. She understood that we all need to feel good about ourselves--we need to know we’re loved. And she chose to offer support along the way, specializing in bringing into focus those on the margins who before she shone a light on them were overlooked, ignored.

The Emmy announcements take place at 5:30 a.m., Pacific Standard Time, because when we are finding out the top six contenders for best miniseries, movie, or dramatic special, it’s important that the whole nation watch as one. I woke up at two a.m. and drove to the Academy building in North Hollywood. Contrary to what you might think, North Hollywood is not in Hollywood, or even that close to it. It’s in the Valley. Actually, North Hollywood is to Hollywood as Newark is to New York; it really sounds like the other thing but it’s way, way different, to the point where you’re like, “Hey, man, are you trying to trick me?

The room was silent, just the low murmur of Sports Center coming from the television. Ruxs’ eyes were on the sports announcers but he wasn’t listening to them. He could feel Green’s strong presence. It called to him. He heard him rustling in his chair and turned to look in his direction. Green was still reclined all the way back. He was looking at the TV, his eyes heavy, one hand down inside his lounge pants. Ruxs could see his hand moving. Oh my God. Ruxs had an urge to rub his own aching balls. Shit. Poor things. They’d been sorely neglected for months. He

The children next produced and distributed four 60-second public service announcements (PSAs) on the effects of pollution on the environment and on health. In producing the PSAs, students learned how to use specialized applications for professional audiovisual scripts and shot their PSAs against a blue screen, using a computer as a teleprompter.

For instance, was it wise for Tony Abbott to announce to the House that the federal police had set up counter-terrorism units to intercept would-be jihadis at Sydney and Melbourne airports and that other airports would follow later? Or was it a premature disclosure that tipped off terrorists to escape detection by using Brisbane or Adelaide instead?

Though media outlets are increasingly on the lookout for good stories, there are still challenges to getting exposure. Tens of thousands of companies are clamoring for media coverage. Jason Kincaid, a former reporter at TechCrunch, told us that he got pitched over 50 times each day. What gets a reporter’s attention? Milestones: raising money, launching a new product, breaking a usage barrier, a PR stunt, big partnership or a special industry report. Each of these events is interesting and noteworthy enough to potentially generate some coverage. Jason advises bundling smaller announcements together into one big announcement whenever possible. Breaking a useage barrier is great. Releasing a new version is noteworthy. But releasing a new version and breaking a usage barrier in the process is even more compelling.

That with age, she becomes wise, self assured and confident. Consequently, the happiest women in the world are the ones that understand birthdays are a symbol of beauty. For there is nothing more attractive to a man than a woman who has truly lived. She who wears her age gracefully and with pride. Yes, birthdays for a woman are special. If anything, they announce to the world that you continue to grow more beautiful with time, like a rose coming into full bloom.

Sexual desires are usually not directly announced but concealed under a series of feints, gestures, styles of dress, and showy behavior. Seductions are staged, scripted, costumed. Certain responses are sought, plots are developed. In skillful seductions delays are employed, special circumstances and settings are arranged.

6 So God’s rest is there for people to enter, but those who first heard this good news failed to enter because they disobeyed God. 7 So God set another time for entering his rest, and that time is today. God announced this through David much later in the words already quoted: “Today when you hear his voice,       don’t harden your hearts.”* 8 Now if Joshua had succeeded in giving them this rest, God would not have spoken about another day of rest still to come. 9 So there is a special rest* still waiting for the people of God. 10 For all who have entered into God’s rest have rested from their labors, just as God did after creating the world. 11 So let us do our best to enter that rest. But if we disobey God, as the people of Israel did, we will fall.

When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

Perdu cleared his throat and announced to the empty car: “Her words were so natural. Manon showed her feelings, always. She loved the tango. She drank from life as if it were champagne and faced it in the same spirit: she knew that life is special.

The Bears waited nervously while the judges studied, measured, and weighed, and then studied, measured, and weighed some more. Finally, they made their announcement: “THE FIRST-PRIZE WINNER--AND STILL CHAMPION…” Of course, that meant Farmer Ben had won. It was close--it turned out that Ben’s Monster was just a little bigger, rounder, and oranger than Papa’s Giant. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The Giant didn’t even come in second. A beautiful pumpkin grown by Miz McGrizz won second prize. The Giant came in third. Papa and the cubs were crushed…crushed and very quiet as they pushed their third-prize winner home. It wasn’t until they reached the crest of a hill that overlooked Bear Country that Mama decided to have her say. “I know you’re disappointed. But third prize is nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, Thanksgiving isn’t about contests and prizes. It’s about giving thanks. And it seems to me that we have a lot of be thankful for.” Perhaps it was Mama’s lecture, or maybe it was how beautiful Bear Country looked in the sunset’s rosy glow. But whatever the reason, Papa and the cubs began to understand what Mama was talking about. Even more so on Thanksgiving Day. After the Bears gave thanks for the wonderful meal they were about to enjoy, Sister Bear gave her own special thanks. “I’m thankful,” she said, “that we didn’twin first prize: if we had, The Giant would be on display in front of City Hall instead of being part of the yummy pies we’re going to have for dessert!” As the laughter faded and the Bears thought about the blessings of family, home, friends, and neighbors, they knew deep down in their hearts that there was no question about it--indeed they did have a great deal to be thankful for.

Every structure in plants has been specially planned and designed. And this shows us that there is a Superior Intelligence which drew up this flawless plan. And the owner of this superior intelligence, God, the Lord of all the worlds, shows proofs of His flawless creation to human beings. God announces His dominion over living creatures and His incomparable creation in this verse: He is the Originator of the heavens and the earth. That is God, your Lord. There is no deity but Him, the Creator of everything. So worship Him. He is Responsible for everything. (Surat al-An'am: 101-102) The

s a child, I was so shy I once hid in a closet at my own birthday party! But again and again, over the years, God has confronted me with opportunities to step outside of myself to touch others. And you know what? Saying yes to God is always a hopeful endeavor. If someone asked me 40 years ago whether I'd ever write a book or speak in front of a large audience, I'd have told her she was crazy. But that's what my ministry became! And as I've matured in the Lord, my hope has grown too. These days I'm far from a hopeless romantic. I'm not a hopeless anything. I'm a wide-eyed child of God eagerly waiting to see what He has in mind for me next. hese troubling days are the perfect time to enjoy the company of old and dear friends. You can share your sorrows, rejoice at God's love, and reminisce about good times. Through all life's seasons friends add so much depth and meaning. Don't think you have to fill every minute with activities. Spend time talking, listening, and enjoying companionship. Gather around a table of great food and soak up the warmth of years of friendship. Share a verse of Scripture and a time of prayer. The Bible says, "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18). ver the years I've put together a "This Is Your Life" scrapbook for every one of my children. The books are filled with birth announcements, birthday party pictures, graduation memories-everything imaginable. Report cards, favorite Bible verses, photos of friends, even letters they wrote from camp. My kids have so enjoyed their special books-their own personal history. I love the scripture in Proverbs that says: "The

Be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted…. —Ephesians 4:32 (ASV) Jamie, our oldest daughter, spent the night with us. She had one request: to watch her favorite show, a popular TV dating program. I’ve caught a few snippets but I’ve never watched an entire show. Such silliness! I made homemade lasagna, one of Jamie’s favorites, and picked up some chocolate ice cream, but I planned to finagle a way out of watching the program with her. After supper, she helped me clear the table and load the dishwasher. Then her show started. Her daddy stretched out in his recliner, and Jamie sat on the sofa near him. “I’m going to take my bath, ya’ll,” I announced. “Be back in a little while.” I knew I’d bailed on her, but was it really that important? Sinking into my warm bubbles, I overheard Jamie and her dad discussing which one special woman might be chosen for a date with “the prince.” Rick wasn’t poking fun at the far-fetched island drama. I knew he’d rather be watching sports, but he made interesting comments and listened to Jamie’s observations—to his daughter’s heart, really. Something I’d ignored. After my bath, I put on my pajamas and crept back into the den. Only the last few minutes of the show remained. As I sat beside Jamie, a lump rose in my throat. “Sorry I didn’t watch the whole thing with you. I should have.” “It’s no big deal, Mom.” “Yes it is. This program’s important to you. Let’s do dinner again next week and we’ll watch it together. I promise.” Lord, little things matter so much. Help me listen with my heart and be kind—just like You. —Julie Garmon Digging Deeper: Prv 31:26; Phil 2:4;1 Pt 3:8

George Matheson was only a teenager when he learned that his poor eyesight was deteriorating further. Not to be denied, he continued straightaway with his plans to enroll in Glasgow University, and his determination led to his graduating at age nineteen. But as he pursued graduate studies for Christian ministry he became totally blind. His sisters joined ranks beside him, learning Greek and Hebrew to assist him in his studies, and he pressed faithfully on. But his spirit collapsed when his fiance´e, unwilling to be married to a blind man, broke their engagement and returned his ring. George never married, and the pain of that rejection never totally left him. Years later, his sister came to him, announcing her engagement. He rejoiced with her, but his mind went back to his own heartache.He consoled himself in thinking of God’s love which is never limited, never conditional, never withdrawn, and never uncertain. Out of this experience it is said he wrote the hymn, O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go, on June 6, 1882.

Creationists frequently taunt scientists by pointing to an image of something as specialized as a frog and saying that there is no way they could imagine a transitional fossil between frogs and other amphibians. But in 2008, a fossil was announced that put this question to rest (Anderson et al. 2008). Formally named Gerobatrachus hottoni, it was dubbed “frogamander” by the press because it had features of both frogs and salamanders (fig. 10.11). It had a long tail and salamander-like body, but its head is short with a rounded snout like that of a frog. It also had the large eyes and large eardrum found in frogs and not salamanders.

if you’re a real estate professional, chances are you have some opinions about current interest rates or home-buying trends in your area. You could find a relevant article that talks about those things with an intriguing headline, and layer on a “green screen” with your opinion. If you want more distribution on special press releases and announcements your company makes, you can “green screen” it for extra distribution instead of just posting that content on your blog and letting it sit there.

You know the limited edition ramp. If you write very obscure verse (and why shouldn't you, pray?) for which there is little or no market, you pretend there is an enormous demand, and that the stuff has to be rationed. Only 300 copies will be printed, you say, and then the type will be broken up forever. Let the connoisseurs and bibliophiles savage each other for the honor of snatching a copy. Positively no reprint. Reproduction in whole or in part forbidden. 300 copes of which this is Number 4,312. Hand-monkeyed oklamon paper, indigo boards in inter-pulped squirrel-toe, not to mention twelve point Campile Perpetua cast specially for the occasion. Complete, unabridged, and positively unexpurgated. Thirty-five bob a knock and a gory livid bleeding bargain at the price. Well, I have decided to carry this thing a bit further. I beg to announce respectfully my coming volume of verse entitled 'Scorn for Taurus.' We have decided to do it in eight point Caslon on turkey-shutter paper with covers in purple corduroy. But look out for the catch. When the type has been set up, it will instantly be destroyed, and NO COPY WHATSOEVER WILL BE PRINTED. In no circumstances will the company's servants be permitted to carry away even a rough printer's proof. The edition will be so utterly limited that a thousand pounds will not even buy one copy. This is my idea of being exclusive. The charge will be 5 shillings. Please do not make an exhibition of yourself by asking me what you get for your money. You get nothing you can see or feel, not even a receipt. But you do yourself the honor of participating in one of the most far-reaching literary experiments ever carried out in my literary workshop.

Michael Lipper of the fund-tracking company Lipper Analytical Services said that the warnings applied to mutual funds, too; 475 of 1,728 stock, bond, and balanced funds had invested billions in derivatives, yet such holdings “magically seem to disappear” the day funds have to file statements with shareholders. Although mutual funds are forbidden by government regulation from using leverage to buy securities with borrowed money, the Investment Company Institute, a Washington-based mutual fund trade group, announced that mutual funds not only held derivatives worth $7.5 billion (2.13 percent of total assets), they owned $1.5 billion of the special derivatives called structured notes, of which PERLS was one type. For example, Fidelity Investment’s $10 billion Asset Manager fund had $800 million invested in structured notes in the last quarter of 1993, including leveraged bets on Finnish, Swedish, and British interest rates. One note, based on Canadian rates and leveraged thirteen times, had gained 33 percent the previous year; in the first four months of 1994, that same note plunged 25 percent. What was worse, the mutual fund trade groups didn’t even seem to know about the purchases of PLUS Notes.

Osborne following. Chet brought up the rear with two large packages. “Surprise!” Callie called gleefully. The pretty, blond girl, a special friend of Frank for several years, took a big white cakebox from Chet and set it gingerly on the hall table. “This is a bon voyage party,” announced black-haired Iola, Joe’s favorite date, who was just as slender and good-looking as her brother was rotund. “Here. Take this bag, Joe. But be careful. It’s soda pop.” Frank and Joe carried the refreshments into the kitchen while Helen and Chet went to find the boys’ latest dance records.

They had just finished singing it for the third time when Squealer, attended by two dogs, approached them with the air of having something important to say. He announced that, by a special decree of Comrade Napoleon, ‘Beasts of England’ had been abolished.

The most popular Foursquare feature is a competitive challenge called The Mayor. The rules read: “If you’ve got more check-ins than anyone else at a particular place, we deem you ‘The Mayor’ of that place. But once someone else comes along who has checked in more times than you, they then steal the ‘Mayor’ title back from you.” As soon as you become mayor, Foursquare sends an announcement to your friends congratulating you. Even better, some bars and restaurants have set up special deals for whoever happens to be mayor at any given time. The Marsh Café in San Francisco, for example, lets the current mayor drink for free. Of course, this is also a smart move on the part of the café—players have extra incentive to bring their friends there nightly to try to achieve or hold on to the mayor status, boosting business throughout the week. It’s also a good example of how traditional brick-and-mortar companies might be able to augment their services by more actively taking part in this popular reality-based game. Currently, hundreds of venues—from the Sacramento Zoo to a Wendy’s fast-food restaurant in the student union at the University of North Carolina Charlotte—offer deals or freebies for Foursquare players. Why do people love the idea of becoming the mayor? Because trying to become mayor of your favorite city spots gives you a chance to keep doing something you already love, but do it more. It gives you an excuse to spend as much time as possible at the places that make you happiest. And when you notice someone else vying for your mayor status, you get an instant friendly rival, motivating you to visit your favorite places more often, the same way a Nike+ challenger pushes you to run faster and longer.

around her child which means someone else had to open it. Now start it slowly and see which part of her body comes out first.” They watched as the young woman’s upper body came out of the doorway followed by her legs. Sgt. Daniel said, “She was pushed. If she had come through on her own, her leg would have come out first.” “I guess that explains it.” AG said, “Explains what?” Lt. Bates brought the view in closer to the young woman’s face just before she was shot and said, “That is the Black Witches Daughter and Grand-child. They did this to make her what she’s become.” Daniels shook his head, “Those are really evil devils. Colonel Van Bao led that attack. I guess now we know why someone of his rank was designated to do it.” AG said, “Who is the Black Witch?” Lt. Bates sighed, “She’s used to draw our troops into ambushes. When Charlie captures any of our troops, they’ll turn them over to the Black Witch to do her magic. She holds them outside our bases and announces all day that she is going to kill them slowly that night. She then starts torturing them by cutting pieces off and burning their extremities. They always die slowly and screaming at the top of their voices. Their suffering is what pulls our troops out to try and save them. Waiting for them is a specially trained battalion setup to ambush anyone that attempts a rescue. We’ve learned that to go after our captured soldiers is suicide. Even if we managed to get close, she would just shoot the captives in the head before she escapes. She is one sadistic bitch.” AG slowly shook her head, “She blames us for what happened.” Bates nodded, “She certainly does and she names the toes she cuts off after her daughter and grand-child.” Daniels

A special session of the legislature of the People’s State of Chile had been called for ten o’clock this morning, to pass an act of utmost importance to the people of Chile, Argentina and other South American People’s States. In line with the enlightened policy of Señor Ramirez, the new Head of the Chilean State—who came to power on the moral slogan that man is his brother’s keeper—the legislature was to nationalize the Chilean properties of d’Anconia Copper, thus opening the way for the People’s State of Argentina to nationalize the rest of the d’Anconia properties the world over. This, however, was known only to a very few of the top-level leaders of both nations. The measure had been kept secret in order to avoid debate and reactionary opposition. The seizure of the multibillion dollar d’Anconia Copper was to come as a munificent surprise to the country. “On the stroke of ten, in the exact moment when the chairman’s gavel struck the rostrum, opening the session—almost as if the gavel’s blow had set it off—the sound of a tremendous explosion rocked the hall, shattering the glass of its windows. It came from the harbor, a few streets away—and when the legislators rushed to the windows, they saw a long column of flame where once there had risen the familiar silhouette of the ore docks of d’Anconia Copper. The ore docks had been blown to bits. “The chairman averted panic and called the session to order. The act of nationalization was read to the assembly, to the sound of fire-alarm sirens and distant cries. It was a gray morning, dark with rain clouds, the explosion had broken an electric transmitter—so that the assembly voted on the measure by the light of candles, while the red glow of the fire kept sweeping over the great vaulted ceiling above their heads. “But more terrible a shock came later, when the legislators called a hasty recess to announce to the nation the good news that the people now owned d’Anconia Copper. While they were voting, word had come from the closest and farthest points of the globe that there was no d’Anconia Copper left on earth. Ladies and gentlemen, not anywhere. In that same instant, on the stroke of ten, by an infernal marvel of synchronization, every property of d’Anconia Copper on the face of the globe, from Chile to Siam to Spain to Pottsville, Montana, had been blown up and swept away.

He announced that from now on the Sunday-morning Meetings would come to an end. They were unnecessary, he said, and wasted time. In future all questions relating to the working of the farm would be settled by a special committee of pigs, presided over by himself. These would meet in private and afterwards communicate their decisions to the others. The animals would still assemble on Sunday mornings to salute the flag, sing ‘Beasts of England’, and receive their orders for the week;

It was the passage of the 21-year-old rebel who shunned masks and made technology his warhead. By the time the joint team of soldiers and special forces of JK Police men announced their “kill” in the dusky Kokernag hamlet, it was already a shot in their arm. Closer to Burhan’s Tral home, a Indian army garrison burst crackers in celebration. By then, mourners from across Kashmir had started swelling in Tral for the “new age icon’s” final send off.

On December 18, 2003, six months after I had passed my economic recovery plan in the Knesset, Sharon surprised the nation by announcing his plan to unilaterally withdraw from the Gaza Strip. His stated rationale was that Israel should rid itself of controlling this sizable Palestinian population, and would do so while giving up minimal territory. He argued that Israel’s security would actually be enhanced and that if a single rocket was fired at us, Israel would retaliate massively with full international backing. Gaza had no special hold on the public’s imagination. Many Israelis would have been delighted to get rid of it. Sharon’s move was aligned with this sentiment, even though it completely contradicted his campaign pledge a few months earlier never to uproot any of the Jewish communities built in the Gaza Strip during the previous four decades.

They had just finished singing it for the third time when Squealer, attended by two dogs, approached them with the air of having something important to say. He announced that, by a special decree of Comrade Napoleon, ‘Beasts of England’ had been abolished. From now onwards it was forbidden to sing it.

There was a special report that night about a violent clash. Mario might have seen it on the neighbor's TV. As he heard voices and movement on the other side of the wall, he would've seen images of his house on the screen. There were police an armed agents walking the halls. On the dining room table where he'd eaten lunch a few hours ago, with the orange-flowered tablecloth, there were papers, lots of fake IDs, and a serious pile of weapons he'd never seen before. Grenades, ammunition, machine guns, pistols. If there had been a gun in the house, we would have used it to defend ourselves, thought Mario. Reporting live with a microphone in his hand, the announcer gestured at the weapons and documents, announcing that security forces had killed two dangerous terrorists in a deadly face-off.

When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

Bell’s activism did not come at the cost of his writing. A few years later he published two law review articles of startling originality that won him widespread attention in the law school world. The first was “Serving Two Masters: Integration Ideals and Client Interests in School Desegregation Litigation,” published in Yale Law Journal in 1976. Bell had became convinced that the black community did not need—or, in many cases, want—busing, the school desegregation remedy that civil rights lawyers had been pursuing for at least a dozen years. Instead, they wanted better schools. This kind of talk was heresy within the NAACP, which at that time was staunchly committed to enforcing the mandate of Brown v. Board of Education, their great legal breakthrough. Bell sounded what turned out to be one of his signature themes: the conflict of interest inherent in much public interest litigation. American law requires a flesh-and-blood plaintiff, usually an ordinary person, with “standing”—a specific, concrete grievance with a specific actor or defendant. Much public interest litigation, however, is maintained by specialized litigation centers, like the NAACP Legal Defense Fund or the National Organization of Women. These litigators must represent victims of the policies they want to change. The idea is to file a case challenging the unjust policy, determined to take it to the Supreme Court in the hope that it will announce new law. In all this,

Six Steps to Getting Started Right Now As we saw from the stories in Chapter 1, you don’t need a lot of money or special training to operate a business. You just need a product or service, a group of people who want to buy it, and a way to get paid. We’ll look at each of these things in more detail throughout the book, but you don’t have to wait to get started. Here are the six steps you need to take: 1. Decide on your product or service. 2. Set up a website, even a very basic one (you can get a free one from WordPress.org). 3. Develop an offer (an offer is distinct from a product or service; see Chapter 7 for help). 4. Ensure you have a way to get paid (get a free PayPal account to start). 5. Announce your offer to the world (see Chapter 9 for more on this). 6. Learn from steps 1 through 5, then repeat. Almost all microbusiness building follows this sequence of events. Of course, we’ll be discussing specifics as we go along, but it’s always better to start from where you are than to wait for everything to be perfect. If you have an existing business and are thinking about how to apply the concepts from this book, focus on either getting money in the bank or developing new products or services. These are the most important tasks of your business-not administration, maintenance, or anything else that takes time without creating wealth or value. If you’re not sure what to do, think about any of these ideas: Can you contact your customer list with a special offer or incentive? Can you introduce a new product or service to complement your existing portfolio? If you’re a coach or consultant, can you offer a special deal for clients who prepay? Is there a new way you can attract subscribers, clients, or customers? But one way or another . . . just do something.

I heard you have a date with Oliver, and from the looks of it, you definitely do. You’re sweating like a whore in church!” Rob says as soon as he sees me. I punch him in the shoulder. “No I’m not! Oh God, am I?” I head toward the bathroom and look at myself, realizing that he was exaggerating. But, damn. I am nervous. “Why am I so nervous about this? And where is Meep?” “She’s in the shower, and you’re nervous because this is your first date together. I mean, real date. Shenanigans don’t count.” He raises a blonde eyebrow and laughs when I glare at him. “I need a drink,” I announce, heading to the kitchen. “No, you don’t. You need to sit and relax and be still. You’re going to give me a heart attack!” “Stop being a pest,” I mutter, plopping down on the couch. “Okay, but on your date, do not sit like that. Nothing is more gross than a careless sitter in a dress.” My eyes widen, and I cross my legs, sitting upright. “Damn you. Maybe I should have worn jeans.” Robert laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so much like Mia when he does that. “I was joking! Geez, you really are nervous.” “Who’s nervous?” Mia asks, walking over to us. “Jitterbug over here is acting like a virgin going to prom,” Rob says, earning a laugh from me, and a look from Mia. “Way to lay it all out there,” I say. “She looks fine,” Mia says walking over to me. “It’s just Bean.” “Exactly. It’s just Bean . . . do I look okay?” Mia gives me a once-over and nods. “You look beautiful, like you do every other day, when you wear make-up and brush your hair and dress up.” “Meaning not like every other day?” “Well, you have to save beauty for special occasions, Chicken.” “Bitch,” I say, laughing until the knock on the door swallows my smile. “Ohh here he comes,” Rob starts singing like he was singing Man Eater, and I want to crawl into a hole and die. Mia swings the door open and whistles loudly. “Looks like somebody wants to get laid tonight,” she announces. And this time, for real, I want to crawl into a hole and die. I can feel my face burning as I walk to the door and tell Mia and Robert to shut up. Oliver is wearing dark jeans, black shoes, a gray button-down, and a fedora on his head. It’s simple and hot, and it matches the gray dress I’m wearing, so I have to laugh. “It’s like they’re meant to be!” Rob states loudly. “They match! This is too fucking cute! Mia! Get the camera!” “I hate you.” I say, looking at him. “I hate you.” I say, turning to Mia’s face, red from laughing. “I don’t hate you . . . yet.” I say, turning to Oliver, who gives me a slow, cocky half grin that makes me melt a little. “Please have her home by midnight, and make sure she lays off the vodka,” As Mia starts rattling off her list, she stops to look at my blushing face and bursts out laughing. “Awww . . . I’m sorry, Elle, this is so cute though. You haven’t been this nervous since you lost your virginity to Hunter Grayson.” She stops laughing and turns to Oliver with a serious face. “All jokes aside, if you hurt her again, I will fucking murder you, and I’m not talking about a nice quiet murder, I’m talking dick cut off, internal organs everywhere kind of murder. So please, be mindful of that.

Jesus didn’t send His apostles out to start a social club, a special interest group, or a new “religion” that could be filed in the yellow pages, right there between Cats and Creeps. Jesus didn’t send His apostles out to make deals, to compromise, and offer alternative lifestyles. Jesus claimed all authority in heaven and on earth. He claimed all of it, and sent His apostles to announce that claim in the words of the gospel and to enact it with water, bread, and wine, with His full authority.