Turning 60 Quotes

Do not waste one moment in regret, for to think feelingly of the mistakes of the past is to reinfect yourself. “Let the dead bury the dead” [Matthew 8:22; Luke 9:60]. Turn from appearances and assume the feeling that would be yours were you already the one you wish to be.

Youth is not a time of life; it is a state of mind; it is not a matter of rosy cheeks, red lips and supple knees; it is a matter of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions; it is the freshness of the deep springs of life. Youth means a tempermental predominance of courage over timidity of the appetite, for adventure over the love of ease. This often exists in a man of 60 more than a boy of 20. Nobody grows old merely by a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, fear, self-distrust bows the heart and turns the spirits back to dust. Whether 60 or 16, there is in every human being's heart the lure of wonder, the unfailing childlike appetite of what's next and the joy of the game of living. In the center of your heart and my heart there is a wireless station: so long as it receives messages of beauty, hope, cheer, courage and power from men and from the Infinite, so long are you young. When the aerials are down, and your spirit is covered with snows of cynicism and the ice of pessimism, then you are grown old, even at 20, but as long as your aerials are up, to catch waves of optimism, there is hope you may die young at 80.

The children of the 1960's that you call the 'Manson Family' wanted to stop a war and turn the government and world to peace. They gave their lives when they took lives and they knew it.

All I can say is, it's a good thing we didn't win the revolution [laughter]. We would've ended up with people like Abie Hoffman and Eldridge Cleaver at the helm; we would've been in big trouble. Big trouble. It would've been such a Stalinist purge ... All those people that were the top names in those movements back then were all egotistical assholes, it turned out, every single one of them [laughter].

High King Cardans presence seems to infect the very air I breathe. For a wild moment, I consider turning and getting out of there before he spots me. I dont know if I can do this. I feel a little dizzy. I dont know if I can look at him and not show on my face any of what I am feeling. Page 60

I will allow others to be there for me. I will share my feelings. I’m not allowed to fake it! I will view the world as a positive place. The cup is half full, not half empty.

Nowadays, some 60–70 percent of our clients turn to us as PR consultants—and it seems to be exactly the same everywhere in the world—for two main reasons: crisis management and reputation management.

For users, Facebook Connect offers what could turn into a universal Internet log-in. Over 80,000 websites use it in some fashion, as of February 2010, and 60 million Facebook members are actively employing it.

dining restaurant Canlis, which The New York Times later called “Seattle’s fanciest, finest restaurant for more than 60 years.” His dad, Chris Canlis, ran the restaurant for thirty years before eventually turning it over to Brian and his brother Mark. (And if you want a case study of how a business can build loyalty and strengthen community in the midst of a restaurant-devastating global pandemic, check out Canlis’s Instagram account for 2020.)

When we turn our focus away from feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty and intentionally turn our thoughts toward God’s promises of all-sufficiency, we create a turning point and we begin to replace our wavering self-confidence with lasting God-confidence.

I do not pretend, of course, that I have never done it; mere politeness forces one to it; there are women who sulk and grow bellicose unless one at least makes the motions of kissing them. But what I mean is that I have never found the act a tenth part as agreeable as poets, the authors of musical comedy librettos, and (on the contrary side) chaperones and the gendarmerie make it out. The physical sensation, far from being pleasant, is intensely uncomfortable—the suspension of respiration, indeed, quickly resolves itself into a feeling of suffocation—and the posture necessitated by the approximation of lips and lips is unfailingly a constrained and ungraceful one. Theoretically, a man kisses a woman perpendicularly, with their eyes, those "windows of the soul," synchronizing exactly. But actually, on account of the incompressibility of the nasal cartilages, he has to incline either his or her head to an angle of at least 60 degrees, and the result is that his right eye gazes insanely at the space between her eyebrows, while his left eye is fixed upon some vague spot behind her. An instantaneous photograph of such a maneuvre, taken at the moment of incidence, would probably turn the stomach of even the most romantic man, and force him, in sheer self-respect, to renounce kissing as he has renounced leap-frog and walking on stilts.

Why canst thou not always be a good lass, Cathy?' And she turned her face up to his, and laughed, and answered - 'Why cannot you always be a good man, father?

...In all this, financialization has done what people back in the 1950s and '60s and '70s worried and warned that the Communists would do if they took over: centralize control of the economy, turn Americans into interchangeable cogs serving an inhumane system, and allow only a well-connected elite to live well. Extreme Capitalism resembles Communism: yet another whopping irony.

Grass on domestic lawns wants to do what wild grasses do in nature—namely, grow to a height of about two feet, flower, turn brown, and die. To keep it short and green and continuously growing means manipulating it fairly brutally and pouring a lot of stuff onto it. In the western United States about 60 percent of all the water that comes out of taps for all purposes is sprinkled on lawns. Worse still are the amounts of herbicides and pesticides—seventy million pounds of them a year—that are soaked into lawns. It is a deeply ironic fact that for most of us keeping a handsome lawn is about the least green thing we do.

You were supposed to be on that elevator with him," Tristan said from behind us. "If you don't make it to the car before he does, believe me, he will drop the both of you on the spot" Atticus and I glanced at each for a second, before I took off my heels and bolted towards the stairs. "Are you insane? There are at least 60 flights of stairs!" Atticus yelled after me, but I ignored him, running as quickly as I could. AsI reached the 49th level, Ipushed open the door and dashed towards the elevator, pressing the botton over and over again, as if my life depended on it. "Ma'am?" a security guard asked, coming towards me. Fortunately, the doors opened, and sure enough there was Levi reading his paper. "I work for him!" I shouted, pointing to Levi, as I jumped inside. He looked up at me, confused as I entered gasping. "I would have been more impressed if you ran down all of the stairs," he said, no longer interested in me. As I stood there trying to catch my breath, he continued reading. "Fuck you" "Excuse me?" he turned back to look at me, his eyes narrowing. "Achoo," I sneezed. "Excuse me," I lied and he knew it, but I put my heels back on anyway. "Where's Atticus?" he asked as the doors opened. "I don't know maybe he just isn't hungry for-" I stopped, seeing Atticus already standing at the car door. Levi looked back to me. "He wins.

In all, nearly 60 percent of immigrants—legal and illegal—are on government assistance, compared with 39 percent of native households.6 Why would any country voluntarily bring in people who have to be supported by the taxpayer?

In regular circumstances, 60 percent of criminal psychopaths released into the outside world go on to re-offend. What percentage of their psychopaths had? As it turned out: 80 percent. The Capsule had made the psychopaths worse.

A shadow of self-doubt had been cast over my thoughts and emotions when I turned my attention away from God’s perspective and promises. By taking my eyes off the light of God’s truth, I ended up paralyzed by the darkness of defeat.

A few years ago, it was all the rage in biohacker circles to sit in a tub of ice water for cold therapy. That kind of thinking earned me first-degree ice burns over 15 percent of my body (ouch!), but it turns out that it’s not necessary to pack yourself with ice or for the water to be icy—cold water, about 60°F, is a great stimulus for your mitochondria. It sounds miserable, and it is for about thirty seconds. But after that, something shifts, and it feels really good.

An asteroid or comet traveling at cosmic velocities would enter the Earth’s atmosphere at such a speed that the air beneath it couldn’t get out of the way and would be compressed, as in a bicycle pump. As anyone who has used such a pump knows, compressed air grows swiftly hot, and the temperature below it would rise to some 60,000 Kelvin, or ten times the surface temperature of the Sun. In this instant of its arrival in our atmosphere, everything in the meteor’s path—people, houses, factories, cars—would crinkle and vanish like cellophane in a flame. One second after entering the atmosphere, the meteorite would slam into the Earth’s surface, where the people of Manson had a moment before been going about their business. The meteorite itself would vaporize instantly, but the blast would blow out a thousand cubic kilometers of rock, earth, and superheated gases. Every living thing within 150 miles that hadn’t been killed by the heat of entry would now be killed by the blast. Radiating outward at almost the speed of light would be the initial shock wave, sweeping everything before it. For those outside the zone of immediate devastation, the first inkling of catastrophe would be a flash of blinding light—the brightest ever seen by human eyes—followed an instant to a minute or two later by an apocalyptic sight of unimaginable grandeur: a roiling wall of darkness reaching high into the heavens, filling an entire field of view and traveling at thousands of miles an hour. Its approach would be eerily silent since it would be moving far beyond the speed of sound. Anyone in a tall building in Omaha or Des Moines, say, who chanced to look in the right direction would see a bewildering veil of turmoil followed by instantaneous oblivion. Within minutes, over an area stretching from Denver to Detroit and encompassing what had once been Chicago, St. Louis, Kansas City, the Twin Cities—the whole of the Midwest, in short—nearly every standing thing would be flattened or on fire, and nearly every living thing would be dead. People up to a thousand miles away would be knocked off their feet and sliced or clobbered by a blizzard of flying projectiles. Beyond a thousand miles the devastation from the blast would gradually diminish. But that’s just the initial shockwave. No one can do more than guess what the associated damage would be, other than that it would be brisk and global. The impact would almost certainly set off a chain of devastating earthquakes. Volcanoes across the globe would begin to rumble and spew. Tsunamis would rise up and head devastatingly for distant shores. Within an hour, a cloud of blackness would cover the planet, and burning rock and other debris would be pelting down everywhere, setting much of the planet ablaze. It has been estimated that at least a billion and a half people would be dead by the end of the first day. The massive disturbances to the ionosphere would knock out communications systems everywhere, so survivors would have no idea what was happening elsewhere or where to turn. It would hardly matter. As one commentator has put it, fleeing would mean “selecting a slow death over a quick one. The death toll would be very little affected by any plausible relocation effort, since Earth’s ability to support life would be universally diminished.

Why are we, as a society that recognized there was something seriously wrong with "mother's little helper" and hippies doing all sorts of drugs to "turn on, tune in, and drop out" in the 50's and 60's, so willing to take what amounts to the same thing from licensed drug pushers?

A pro–civil rights columnist for the Jackson Clarion-Ledger noted the familiar faces from his reporting on White Citizens Council meetings back in the 1950s and ’60s. Only one thing was different: “Their enemy now is not the black man but ‘liberalism,’ in any form, as they see it.

Mental toughness is the ability to focus on and execute solutions, especially in the face of adversity. Greatness rarely happens on accident. If you want to achieve excellence, you will have to act like you really want it. How? Quite simply: by dedicating time and energy into consistently doing what needs to be done. Excuses are the antithesis of accountability. Important decisions aren’t supposed to be easy, but don’t let that stop you from making them. When it comes to decisions, decide to always decide. The second we stop growing, we start dying. Stagnation easily morphs into laziness, and once a person stops trying to grow and improve, he or she is nothing more than mediocre. Develop the no-excuse mentality. Do not let anything interrupt those tasks that are most critical for growth in the important areas of your life. Find a way, no matter what, to prioritize your daily process goals, even when you have a viable excuse to justify not doing it. “If you don’t evaluate yourself, how in the heck are you ever going to know what you are doing well and what you need to improve? Those who are most successful evaluate themselves daily. Daily evaluation is the key to daily success, and daily success is the key to success in life. If you want to achieve greatness, push yourself to the limits of your potential by continuously looking for improvements. Within 60 seconds, replace all problem-focused thought with solution-focused thinking. When people focus on problems, their problems actually grow and reproduce. When you train your mind to focus on solutions, guess what expands? Talking about your problems will lead to more problems, not to solutions. If you want solutions, start thinking and talking about your solutions. Believe that every problem, no matter how large, has at the very least a +1 solution, you will find it easier to stay on the solution side of the chalkboard. When you set your mind to do something, find a way to get it done…no matter what! If you come up short on your discipline, keep fighting, kicking, and scratching to improve. Find the nearest mirror and look yourself in the eye while you tell yourself, “There is no excuse, and this will not happen again.” Get outside help if needed, but never, ever give up on being disciplined. Greatness will not magically appear in your life without significant accountability, focus, and optimism on your part. Are you ready to commit fully to turning your potential into a leadership performance that will propel you to greatness. Mental toughness is understanding that the only true obstacles in life are self-imposed. You always have the choice to stay down or rise above. In truth, the only real obstacles to your ultimate success will come from within yourself and fall into one of the following three categories: apathy, laziness and fear. Laziness breeds more laziness. When you start the day by sleeping past the alarm or cutting corners in the morning, you’re more likely to continue that slothful attitude later in the day.

And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight, And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly, The surface glittered out of heart of light, And they were behind us, reflected in the pool. Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty. Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children, 40 Hidden excitedly, containing laughter. Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind Cannot bear very much reality. Time past and time future What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present.   II   Garlic and sapphires in the mud Clot the bedded axle-tree. The trilling wire in the blood Sings below inveterate scars And reconciles forgotten wars. The dance along the artery The circulation of the lymph Are figured in the drift of stars Ascend to summer in the tree We move above the moving tree In light upon the figured leaf And hear upon the sodden floor Below, the boarhound and the boar Pursue their pattern as before 60 But reconciled among the stars.   At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is, But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity, Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor

Cixi’s lack of formal education was more than made up for by her intuitive intelligence, which she liked to use from her earliest years. In 1843, when she was seven, the empire had just finished its first war with the West, the Opium War, which had been started by Britain in reaction to Beijing clamping down on the illegal opium trade conducted by British merchants. China was defeated and had to pay a hefty indemnity. Desperate for funds, Emperor Daoguang (father of Cixi’s future husband) held back the traditional presents for his sons’ brides – gold necklaces with corals and pearls – and vetoed elaborate banquets for their weddings. New Year and birthday celebrations were scaled down, even cancelled, and minor royal concubines had to subsidise their reduced allowances by selling their embroidery on the market through eunuchs. The emperor himself even went on surprise raids of his concubines’ wardrobes, to check whether they were hiding extravagant clothes against his orders. As part of a determined drive to stamp out theft by officials, an investigation was conducted of the state coffer, which revealed that more “than nine million taels of silver had gone missing. Furious, the emperor ordered all the senior keepers and inspectors of the silver reserve for the previous forty-four years to pay fines to make up the loss – whether or not they were guilty. Cixi’s great-grandfather had served as one of the keepers and his share of the fine amounted to 43,200 taels – a colossal sum, next to which his official salary had been a pittance. As he had died a long time ago, his son, Cixi’s grandfather, was obliged to pay half the sum, even though he worked in the Ministry of Punishments and had nothing to do with the state coffer. After three years of futile struggle to raise money, he only managed to hand over 1,800 taels, and an edict signed by the emperor confined him to prison, only to be released if and when his son, Cixi’s father, delivered the balance. The life of the family was turned upside down. Cixi, then eleven years old, had to take in sewing jobs to earn extra money – which she would remember all her life and would later talk about to her ladies-in-waiting in the court. “As she was the eldest of two daughters and three sons, her father discussed the matter with her, and she rose to the occasion. Her ideas were carefully considered and practical: what possessions to sell, what valuables to pawn, whom to turn to for loans and how to approach them. Finally, the family raised 60 per cent of the sum, enough to get her grandfather out of prison. The young Cixi’s contribution to solving the crisis became a family legend, and her father paid her the ultimate compliment: ‘This daughter of mine is really more like a son!’ Treated like a son, Cixi was able to talk to her father about things that were normally closed areas for women. Inevitably their conversations touched on official business and state affairs, which helped form Cixi’s lifelong interest. Being consulted and having her views acted on, she acquired self-confidence and never accepted the com“common assumption that women’s brains were inferior to men’s. The crisis also helped shape her future method of rule. Having tasted the bitterness of arbitrary punishment, she would make an effort to be fair to her officials.

Girls seemed to be blessed with a natural skill and aptitude for kissing. Where on earth did they learn this? My first introduction to this was at one class Christmas party. We had decided to play 'spin the bottle' and when my turn came I got to kiss a delightful, kind and pretty girl called Joyce. She planted a real good one on me.

We’ve all got a dozen or so friends, haven’t we? And when we’re drunk we philosophise well into the night on an array of subjects ranging from what happened before the Big Bang to who would win a fight between a vampire and zombie, to what’s the most compromising position to be caught in, but we’re hardly going to be extolled in 60 or 70 years’ time as the Heat Generation or the Cheat Generation or the Street Generation, are we? The Tweet Generation, maybe, but that’s about all. So what was it about these few guys? Well, they wrote about what they did, and what they did was quite revolutionary back then. They went On the Road, and it was Jack Kerouac’s book that turned the tide.

Luke 22:60-62. “This was after his third denial. ‘Peter replied, ‘Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him, ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times. And he went outside and wept bitterly.

In 1971, for instance, a trio from Harvard observed ninety mother-toddler pairs for five hours and found that on average, mothers gave a command, told their child no, or fielded a request (often “unreasonable” or “in a whining tone”) every three minutes. Their children, in turn, obeyed on average only 60 percent of the time. This is not exactly a formula for perfect mental health.

Love won't come easy and it often will feel like exposure. Love will look like weakness and sometimes feels like dying. A soul alive in Christ allows itself to be repositioned. The Sprit turns us towards the place old self would naturally resist and our consent will be the continual reversal that forms the love of Christ into our memories, our neural networks, our inner most being.

Beyond 60% utilization, the average response time doubles. By 80%, it has tripled. As disk I/O latency is often the bounding resource for an application, increasing the average latency by double or higher can have a significant negative effect on application performance. This is why disk utilization can become a problem well before it reaches 100%, as it is a queueing system where requests (typically) cannot be interrupted and must wait their turn.

On Good Friday last year the SS found some pretext to punish 60 priests with an hour on "the tree." That is the mildest camp punishment. They tie a man's hands together behind his back, palms facing out and fingers pointing backward. Then they turn his hands inwards, tie a chain around his wrists and hoist him up by it. His own wight twists his joints and pulls them apart...Several of the priest who were hung up last year never recovered and died. If you don't have a strong heart, you don't survive it. Many have a permanently crippled hand.

Then there’s the Day of Purity, which I must admit I don’t understand at all. If the day is a celebration of premarital abstinence, as Dean Staver said, then why was 50 or 60 percent of his convocation speech about homosexuality and the redefinition of gender boundaries? What does that have to do with not having sex? Is the implication that if gay marriage is legalized, Christian boyfriends and girlfriends will turn to each other, shrug their shoulders, and say, Well, gee, might as well? From what I can tell, not a whole lot of forethought has gone into the holiday.

Reification implies that man is capable of forgetting his own authorship of the human world, and further, that the dialectic between man, the producer, and his products is lost to consciousness. The reified world is, by definition, a dehumanized world. It is experienced by man as a strange facticity, an opus alienum over which he has no control rather than as the opus proprium of his own productive activity. It will be clear from our previous discussion of objectivation that, as soon as an objective social world is established, the possibility of reification is never far away.59 The objectivity of the social world means that it confronts man as something outside of himself. The decisive question is whether he still retains the awareness that, however objectivated, the social world was made by men—and, therefore, can be remade by them. In other words, reification can be described as an extreme step in the process of objectivation, whereby the objectivated world loses its comprehensibility as a human enterprise and becomes fixated as a non-human, non-humanizable, inert facticity.60 Typically, the real relationship between man and his world is reversed in consciousness. Man, the producer of a world, is apprehended as its product, and human activity as an epiphenomenon of non-human processes. Human meanings are no longer understood as world-producing but as being, in their turn, products of the “nature of things.” It must be emphasized that reification is a modality of consciousness, more precisely, a modality of man’s objectification of the human world. Even while apprehending the world in reified terms, man continues to produce it. That is, man is capable paradoxically of producing a reality that denies him.61

doesn't matter to the universe, it should matter one hell of a lot to YOU. In fact, it should matter to you more than it currently does. If you knew how small you are and how short a time you have to do what you can, you wouldn't waste time watching five fucking hours of TV a day. You wouldn't waste time doing a job you hate. You wouldn't waste the little time you have dealing with assholes, feeling sorry for yourself, or being timid about the things you'd really like to do. I'm 35, and it dawned on me just recently that it's not at all long before I'll be forty. And forty is FUCKING OLD in the mind of a guy with the mentality and sense of humor of a teenager. I mean, hell, you can make an argument for 30 being young despite the fact that the MTV crowd says different, but forty-something is what your grandmother was. When I had this epiphany, a succession of uncomfortable and incredibly obvious realizations followed. If I can turn 40, I can turn 50. If I can turn 50, I can turn 60. Once, I was a kid and everyone else was old. The tables will turn. I'll be the guy that kids look at and see as old. Me. Fucking ME. Me, who was once out cruising on Friday nights, staying up until dawn. Me,

The post-68 left has tended to overvalue the negative capability of remaining in doubt, scepticism and uncertainties - this may be an aesthetic virtue, but it is a political vice. The self-doubt that has been endemic on the left since the 60s is little in evidence on the right – one reason that the right has been so successful in imposing its programme. Many on the left now quail at the thought of formulating a programme, still less “imposing” one. But we have to give up on the belief that people will spontaneously turn to the left, or that neoliberalism will collapse without our actively dismantling it.

Grass on domestic lawns wants to do what wild grasses do in nature–namely, grow to a height of about two feet, flower, turn brown and die. To keep it short and green and continuously growing means manipulating it fairly brutally and pouring a lot of stuff on to it. In the western United States about 60 per cent of all the water that comes out of taps for all purposes is sprinkled on lawns. Worse still are the amounts of herbicides and pesticides–70 million pounds of it a year–that are soaked into lawns. It is a deeply ironic fact that for most of us keeping a handsome lawn is about the least green thing we do.

For example, imagine trying to get a sense of the voters before the 2016 election as we did in our story “Ask Ohio” for 60 Minutes. When you’re in the coffee shop interviewing out-of-work steelworkers, turn the coffee cup upside down. “Made in China,” ironic. In the greasy spoon restaurant in Lorain, Ohio, notice the shops on either side of the café are boarded up. Notice the Virgin Mary standing on the shelf above the Coco Puffs. Notice the sign that reads Pull Up Your Pants! With just these observations, the reader gets a pretty good idea of what kind of place this is, who works there and who eats there. John Steinbeck called this “layering detail upon detail.

Once again, Jesus turns to the crowds. ‘Oh, by the way, souls don’t exist, despite the rumours. I was merely being poetic. The fact remains that you are mainly water — 60-70% I believe — blood, guts, bones, and some of you have brains. Your soul was invented by those living loved ones to help justify the dead’s ethereal journey to the afterlife. There is no journey. Life itself is a dead-end. And, by association, the afterlife doesn’t exist. Sorry to be a bit of a party-pooper. Mother insisted that I put you all in the picture. Moral of the story? Enjoy life while you can, and never take an extra minute for granted, because Mother can grin and bare her razor teeth whenever and whenever she likes.

Until Americans can overcome this idealization of law, until they begin to see that law is, like other institutions and actions, to be measured against moral principles, against human needs, we will remain a static society in a world of change, a society deaf to the rising cries for justice- and therefore,a society in serious trouble.” Added a quotation: “The realities of american politics, it turns out, are different than as described in old civic textbooks, which tell us how fortunate we are to have the ballot. The major nominees for president are not chosen by the ballot, but are picked for us by a quadrennial political convention which is half farce, half circus, most of whose delegates have not been instructed by popular vote. For months before the convention, the public has been conditioned by the mass media on who is who, so that it will not be temped to think beyond that list which the party regulars have approved.” Added a quotation: “I do not think civil disobedience is enough; it is a way of protest, but in itself it does not construct a new society. There are many other things that citizens should do to begin to build a new way of life in the midst of the old, to live the way human beings should live- enjoying the fruits of the earth, the warmth of nature and of one another-without hostility, without the artificial separation of religion, or race, or nationalism. Further, not all forms of civil disobedience are moral; not all are effective.” Added a quotation: “It is very hard, in the comfortable environment of middle-class America, to discard the notion that everything will be better if we don't have the disturbance of civil disobedience, if we confine ourselves to voting, writing letters to our congressmen, speaking our minds politely.....somehow we must transcend our own tight, air-conditioned chambers and begin to feel their plight, their needs. It may become evident that, despite out wealth, we can have no real peace until they do. We might then join them in battering at the complacency of those who guard a false "order," with that healthy commotion that has always attended the growth of justice.

In their book American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us, political scientists Robert Putnam and David Campbell analyzed a variety of data sources to describe how religious and nonreligious Americans differ. Common sense would tell you that the more time and money people give to their religious groups, the less they have left over for everything else. But common sense turns out to be wrong. Putnam and Campbell found that the more frequently people attend religious services, the more generous and charitable they become across the board.58 Of course religious people give a lot to religious charities, but they also give as much as or more than secular folk to secular charities such as the American Cancer Society.59 They spend a lot of time in service to their churches and synagogues, but they also spend more time than secular folk serving in neighborhood and civic associations of all sorts. Putnam and Campbell put their findings bluntly: By many different measures religiously observant Americans are better neighbors and better citizens than secular Americans—they are more generous with their time and money, especially in helping the needy, and they are more active in community life.60 Why are religious people better neighbors and citizens? To find out, Putnam and Campbell included on one of their surveys a long list of questions about religious beliefs (e.g., “Do you believe in hell? Do you agree that we will all be called before God to answer for our sins?”) as well as questions about religious practices (e.g., “How often do you read holy scriptures? How often do you pray?”). These beliefs and practices turned out to matter very little. Whether you believe in hell, whether you pray daily, whether you are a Catholic, Protestant, Jew, or Mormon … none of these things correlated with generosity. The only thing that was reliably and powerfully associated with the moral benefits of religion was how enmeshed people were in relationships with their co-religionists. It’s the friendships and group activities, carried out within a moral matrix that emphasizes selflessness. That’s what brings out the best in people. Putnam and Campbell reject the New Atheist emphasis on belief and reach a conclusion straight out of Durkheim: “It is religious belongingness that matters for neighborliness, not religious believing.”61

O Lord our God, may we place our hope beneath the covering of your wings; protect us and carry us. [Ps. 16:8, 35:8, 56:2, 60:5, 62:8, 90:4 / Is. 46:4; Sir. 6:18] You will carry your little ones, carry them even to grey hairs, for when you are our strength, there is strength indeed; but when the strength is ours alone, then it is weakness. Our good is always alive in you, and because {60} we have turned away from our good, we have turned to perversity. Turn us back now, O Lord, so that we might not turn our backs on you, for our good is alive in you, a good from which nothing is lacking: for this good is you yourself. Though we have fallen away from it, we have no fear that there is nowhere for us to return to: for though we may be absent, our true home, your eternity, does not fall.

For many people today, gardening is about lawns and almost nothing else. In the United States lawns cover more surface area—fifty thousand square miles—than any single farm crop. Grass on domestic lawns wants to do what wild grasses do in nature—namely, grow to a height of about two feet, flower, turn brown, and die. To keep it short and green and continuously growing means manipulating it fairly brutally and pouring a lot of stuff onto it. In the western United States about 60 percent of all the water that comes out of taps for all purposes is sprinkled on lawns. Worse still are the amounts of herbicides and pesticides—seventy million pounds of them a year—that are soaked into lawns. It is a deeply ironic fact that for most of us keeping a handsome lawn is about the least green thing we do.

Blowin' In The Wind How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man ? How many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand ? Yes, how many times must the cannon balls fly Before they're forever banned ? The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind. Yes, how many years can a mountain exist Before it's washed to the sea ? Yes, how many years can some people exist Before they're allowed to be free ? Yes, how many times can a man turn his head Pretending he just doesn't see ? The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind. Yes, how many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky ? Yes, how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry ? Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died ? The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind.

In fighting its war, the Ministry of the Interior has resorted to a novel tactic– marriage. No Saudi official will admit on the record that the Kingdom’s terrorist problem might boil down to sexual frustration, but if a social system bans hot-blooded young men from contact with the opposite sex in their most hot-blooded years, perhaps it is hardly surprising that some of them channel this frustration into violence. One cornerstone of the extremist rehab program is to get the “beneficiaries,” as they are called, settled down with a wife as soon as possible. The Ministry of the Interior pays each unmarried beneficiary 60,000 riyals (some $18,000), the going rate for a dowry, or bride price. The family arranges a marriage, and whenever he can, Prince Mohammed turns up for the wedding. When Khaled Al-Hubayshi was released from Al-Haier prison early in 2007, he wasted no time finding himself a bride at government expense.

The bankers and merchants of Bengal who sustained Siraj ud-Daula’s regime had finally turned against him and united with the disaffected parts of his own military; now they sought to bring in the mercenary troops of the East India Company to help depose him. This was something quite new in Indian history: a group of Indian financiers plotting with an international trading corporation to use its own private security force to overthrow a regime they saw threatening the income they earned from trade.60 This was not part of any imperial masterplan. In fact, the EIC men on the ground were ignoring their strict instructions from London, which were only to repulse French attacks and avoid potentially ruinous wars with their Mughal hosts. But seeing opportunities for personal enrichment as well as political and economic gain for the Company, they dressed up the conspiracy in colours that they knew would appeal to their masters and presented the coup as if it were primarily aimed at excluding the French from Bengal for ever.*

Until Americans can overcome this idealization of law, until they begin to see that law is, like other institutions and actions, to be measured against moral principles, against human needs, we will remain a static society in a world of change, a society deaf to the rising cries for justice- and therefore,a society in serious trouble.” “The realities of american politics, it turns out, are different than as described in old civic textbooks, which tell us how fortunate we are to have the ballot. The major nominees for president are not chosen by the ballot, but are picked for us by a quadrennial political convention which is half farce, half circus, most of whose delegates have not been instructed by popular vote. For months before the convention, the public has been conditioned by the mass media on who is who, so that it will not be temped to think beyond that list which the party regulars have approved.” “I do not think civil disobedience is enough; it is a way of protest, but in itself it does not construct a new society. There are many other things that citizens should do to begin to build a new way of life in the midst of the old, to live the way human beings should live- enjoying the fruits of the earth, the warmth of nature and of one another-without hostility, without the artificial separation of religion, or race, or nationalism. Further, not all forms of civil disobedience are moral; not all are effective.” “It is very hard, in the comfortable environment of middle-class America, to discard the notion that everything will be better if we don't have the disturbance of civil disobedience, if we confine ourselves to voting, writing letters to our congressmen, speaking our minds politely.....somehow we must transcend our own tight, air-conditioned chambers and begin to feel their plight, their needs. It may become evident that, despite out wealth, we can have no real peace until they do. We might then join them in battering at the complacency of those who guard a false "order," with that healthy commotion that has always attended the growth of justice.

One courageous person raising awareness is Amy Kubal, “the Paleo Dietitian,” a licensed dietitian who has worked in the Paleo community for more than a decade. In February 2014, Amy came out on a prominent Paleo website as anorexic. “In my case,” she wrote, “Paleo was a convenient way to justify restriction. I entered the eating disorder world with an intense fear of fat, a fear that didn’t go away with Paleo—it let up a little but it also villainized many of the foods that were once ‘safe’ to me. Now carbs, dairy, beans, grains, and fat were evil and my list kept getting longer.” Amy spoke candidly with me about her own experience and her impression of the Paleo community in general. “You know, it works for some people,” she says. “But for 60 to 70 percent, it turns into a religion. Following this is like their commandment—does that have gluten? Does this? Their lives revolve around it, thinking constantly about what foods are at the places they’re going to be. I have more and more clients who bring their own food to restaurants and family gatherings.

Something More Fragile Than This" Quick before our bodies turn themselves in, with a reverence reserved for the dead touch me because I want to remember how beautiful I am. While Spring snows around us, cracking her eggs on our windows, in her meager dress of yellowing-white, because I want to rise into today. So why the urge to render something more fragile than this? Why, always, the soul blowing glass? The soul, once again, filling the lungs with smoke because a memory of regret sweats in the plastic sleeve of a family album. Because there’s a snapshot caught between the pages of some thick book: my heavy 20 year old frame setting off the 60lb weight of a dying mother. Because somewhere, there’s a negative slide of my heart. Because and because and because I’m sure there’s a photo in some drawer that shows me dressed in black. But I want to devote myself to the mystery of this afternoon. I want to honor this falling night, worship the hour vanishing between six and seven. This moment where I’m standing against myself and against you with a taste in my mouth that’s yolk. With Bob Marley taking that one long drag on the refrigerator door.

He finds a basket and lays fish inside it. Charcoal is in a wooden bucket. Enrique lifts it, basket in his other hand, and moves through shadow toward daylight. A presence makes him turn his head. He sees no one, yet someone is there. He sets down fish and charcoal. Straightening up, Enrique slips his Bowie knife clear of its sheath. He listens, tries to sense the man’s place. This intruder lies low. Is concealed. Behind those barrels? In that corner, crouched down? Enrique shuts his eyes, holds his breath a moment and exhales, his breath’s movement the only sound, trying to feel on his skin some heat from another body. Where? Enrique sends his mind among barrels and sacks, under shelves, behind posts and dangling utensils. It finds no one. He is hiding. Wants not to be found. Is afraid. If he lies under a tarpaulin, he cannot see. To shoot blind would be foolish: likely to miss, certain to alert the others. Enrique steps around barrels, his boots silent on packed sand. Tarps lie parallel in ten-foot lengths, their wheaten hue making them visible in the shadowed space. They are dry and hold dust. All but one lies flat. There. Enrique imagines how it will be. To strike through the tarp risks confusion. Its heavy canvas can deflect his blade. But his opponent will have difficulty using his weapon. He might fire point-blank into Enrique’s weight above him, bearing down. To pull the tarpaulin clear is to lose his advantage; he will see the intruder who will see him. An El Norte mercenary with automatic rifle or handheld laser can cut a man in half. Knife in his teeth, its ivory handle smooth against lips and tongue, Enrique crouches low. Pushing hard with his legs, he dives onto the hidden shape. The man spins free as Enrique grasps, boots slipping on waxed canvas. His opponent feels slight, yet wiry strength defeats Enrique’s hold. He takes his knife in hand and rips a slit long enough to plunge an arm into his adversary’s shrouded panic. Enrique thrusts the blade’s point where he believes a throat must be. Two strong hands clamp his arm and twist against each other rapidly and hard. Pain flares across his skin. Enrique wrests his arm free and his knife flies from his grasp and disappears behind him. He clenches-up and, pivoting on his other hand, turns hard into a blind punch that smashes the hidden face. The dust of their struggle rasps in Enrique’s throat. His intended killer sucks in a hard breath and Enrique hits him again, then again, each time turning his shoulder into the blow. The man coughs out, “Do not kill me.” Enrique knows this voice. It is Omar the Turk. [pp. 60-61]

Queen Anne of England established the Longitude Act in 1714, and offered a monetary prize of over a million in today’s dollars to anyone who invented a method to accurately calculate longitude at sea. Longitude is about determining one’s point in space. So one might ask what it has to do with clocks? Mathematically speaking, space (distance) is the child of time and speed (distance equals time multiplied by speed). Thus, anything that moves at a constant speed can be used to calculate distance, provided one knows for how long it has been moving. Many things have constant speeds, including light, sound, and the rotation of the Earth. Your brain uses the near constancy of the speed of sound to calculate where sounds are coming from. As we have seen, you know someone is to your left or right because the sound of her voice takes approximately 0.6 milliseconds to travel from your left to your right ear. Using the delays it takes any given sound to arrive to your left and right ears allows the brain to figure out if the voice is coming directly from the left, the right, or somewhere in between. The Earth is rotating at a constant speed—one that results in a full rotation (360 degrees) every 24 hours. Thus there is a direct correspondence between degrees of longitude and time. Knowing how much time has elapsed is equivalent to knowing how much the Earth has turned: if you sit and read this book for one hour (1/24 of a day), the Earth has rotated 15 degrees (360/24). Thus, if you are sitting in the middle of the ocean at local noon, and you know it is 16:00 in Greenwich, then you are “4 hours from Greenwich”—exactly 60 degrees longitude from Greenwich. Problem solved. All one needs is a really good marine chronometer. The greatest minds of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries could not overlook the longitude problem: Galileo Galilei, Blaise Pascal, Robert Hooke, Christiaan Huygens, Gottfried Leibniz, and Isaac Newton all devoted their attention to it. In the end, however, it was not a great scientist but one of the world’s foremost craftsman who ultimately was awarded the Longitude Prize. John Harrison (1693–1776) was a self-educated clockmaker who took obsessive dedication to the extreme.

Why, he asked, do all of our policing efforts have to be so reactive, so negative, and so after the fact? What if, instead of just focusing on catching criminals—and serving up ever harsher punishments—after they committed the crime, the police devoted significant resources and effort to eliminating criminal behavior before it happens? To quote Tony Blair, what if they could be tough on crime but also tough on the causes of crime?3 Out of these questions came the novel idea for Positive Tickets, a program whereby police, instead of focusing on catching young people perpetrating crimes, would focus on catching youth doing something good—something as simple as throwing litter away in a bin rather than on the ground, wearing a helmet while riding their bike, skateboarding in the designated area, or getting to school on time—and would give them a ticket for positive behavior. The ticket, of course, wouldn’t carry a fine like a parking ticket but instead would be redeemable for some kind of small reward, like free entry to the movies or to an event at a local youth center—wholesome activities that also had the bonus of keeping the young people off the streets and out of trouble. So how well did Richmond’s unconventional effort to reimagine policing work? Amazingly well, as it turned out. It took some time, but they invested in the approach as a long-term strategy, and after a decade the Positive Tickets system had reduced recidivism from 60 percent to 8 percent. You might not think of a police department as a place where you would expect to see Essentialism at work, but in fact Ward’s system of Positive Tickets is a lesson in the practice of effortless execution. The way of the Nonessentialist is to go big on everything: to try to do it all, have it all, fit it all in. The Nonessentialist operates under the false logic that the more he strives, the more he will achieve, but the reality is, the more we reach for the stars, the harder it is to get ourselves off the ground. The way of the Essentialist is different. Instead of trying to accomplish it all—and all at once—and flaring out, the Essentialist starts small and celebrates progress. Instead of going for the big, flashy wins that don’t really matter, the Essentialist pursues small and simple wins in areas that are essential.

I been sleepin for 40 days and I know Im sleeping cuz this dream’s too amazin She got gold doorknobs where her eyes used to be One turn and I learned what it really means to see Ah – It’s the magical mystery kind Ah – must be a lie Bye bye to the too good to be true kind of love Oh – I could die Oh now I can die I been sleepin for 60- days and Nobody better pinch me Bitch I swear I’ll go crazy She got jumper cable lips She got sunset on her breath now I inhaled just a little bit Now I got no fear of death now

I been sleepin for 40 days and I know Im sleeping cuz this dream’s too amazin She got gold doorknobs where her eyes used to be One turn and I learned what it really means to see [Chorus] Ah – It’s the magical mystery kind Ah – must be a lie Bye bye to the too good to be true kind of love Oh – I could die Oh now I can die I been sleepin for 60- days and Nobody better pinch me Bitch I swear I’ll go crazy She got jumper cable lips She got sunset on her breath now I inhaled just a little bit Now I got no fear of death now

haloumi Made in Cypress, Haloumi is a firm, pickled (brined) cheese. It is a good hot-weather cheese: The salt inhibits the growth of mold and unwanted bacteria, which usually thrive in temperate conditions. 2 gallons whole milk 1 packet direct-set mesophilic starter or 4 ounces prepared mesophilic starter ½ teaspoon liquid rennet (or ½ rennet tablet) diluted in ¼ cup cool, unchlorinated water ¼ cup plus 2 pounds cheese salt, for brine 1 gallon cold water, for brine 1. Heat the milk to 86°F. Add the starter and mix well. 2. Add the diluted rennet and stir gently with an up-and-down motion for 1 minute. Cover and allow to set at 86°F for 30–45, minutes or until the curd gives a clean break. 3. Cut the curd into ½-inch cubes. 4. Increase the temperature two degrees every 5 minutes, until the curds reach 104°F (this will take about 45 minutes), stirring gently to keep the curds from matting. Maintain the curds at 104°F for 20 minutes, stirring gently every few minutes. 5. Ladle the curds into a cheesecloth-lined colander. Drain the whey into a pot and reserve. 6. Pack the curds into a cheesecloth-lined mold and press at 30 pounds of pressure for 1 hour. 7. Remove the cheese from the mold and gently peel away the cheesecloth. Turn over the cheese, re-dress it, and press at 50 pounds of pressure for 30 minutes. 8. Remove the cheese from the mold and cut into 3-inch-square blocks. 9. Bring the reserved whey to 176 to 194°F. Place the curd blocks in the whey and soak for 1 hour, at which time the cheese will have a texture similar to that of cooked chicken breast and will rise to the surface. 10. Strain the curds into a colander and let cool for 20 minutes. 11. Sprinkle the curds with ¼ cup of the salt and let cool for 2–4 hours 12. Combine the remaining 2 pounds of salt and the cold water to make a saturated brine solution. Soak the cheese in the brine for up to 60 days. The flavor increases with age, but the cheese may be eaten fresh at any time during the 60-day period. YIELD: 2 pounds

We must put away a whitewashed Christianity that says that God simply forgives because He is nice, kind, loving, gentle, etc. That is not how forgiveness works. God does not simply ignore our sins, turn a blind eye to them, and perpetuate injustice. No. God has forgiven you for Christ’s sake. It was because Jesus paid your debt, took your penalty, and ransomed you from sin and death that you are forgiven.

By April 23, 2014, thirty-four cases and six deaths from Ebola in Liberia were recorded. By mid-June, 16 more people died. At the time it was thought to be malaria but when seven more people died the following month tests showed that was the Ebola virus. The primary reason for the spreading of the Ebola virus was the direct contact from one person to the next and the ingesting of bush meat. Soon doctors and nurses also became infected. On July 2, 2014, the head surgeon of Redemption Hospital was treated at the JFK Medical Center in Monrovia, where he died from the disease. His death was followed by four nurses at Phebe Hospital in Bong County. At about the same time two U.S. health care workers, Dr. Kent Brantly and a nurse were also infected with the disease. However, they were medically evacuated from Liberia to the United States for treatment where they made a full recovery. Another doctor from Uganda was not so lucky and died from the disease. Arik Air suspended all flights between Nigeria and Liberia and checkpoints were set up at all the ports and border crossings. In August of 2014, the impoverished slum area of West Point was cordoned off. Riots ensued as protesters turned violent. The looting of a clinic of its supplies, including blood-stained bed sheets and mattresses caused the military to shoot into the crowds. Still more patients became infected, causing a shortage of staff and logistics. By September there had been a total of 3,458 cases of which there were 1,830 deaths according to the World Health Organization. Hospitals and clinics could no longer handle this crisis and patients who were treated outside died before they could get help. There were cases where the bodies were just dumped into the Mesurado River. The Ivory Coast out of compassion, opened carefully restricted humanitarian routes and resumed the previously suspended flights to Liberia. Ellen Johnson Sirleaf the president of Libera sent a letter to President Barack Obama concerning the outbreak of Ebola that was on the verge of overrunning her country. The message was desperate, “I am being honest with you when I say that at this rate, we will never break the transmission chain and the virus will overwhelm us.” Having been a former finance minister and World Bank official, Johnson Sirleaf was not one for histrionics however she recognized the pandemic as extremely dangerous. The United States responded to her request and American troops came in and opened a new 60-bed clinic in the Sierra Leone town of Kenema, but by then the outbreak was described as being out of control. Still not understanding the dangerous contagious aspects of this epidemic at least eight Liberian soldiers died after contracting the disease from a single female camp follower. In spite of being a relatively poor country, Cuba is one of the most committed in deploying doctors to crisis zones. It sent more than 460 Cuban doctors and nurses to West Africa. In October Germany sent medical supplies and later that month a hundred additional U.S. troops arrived in Liberia, bringing the total to 565 to assist in the fight against the deadly disease. To understand the severity of the disease, a supply order was placed on October 15th for a 6 month supply of 80,000 body bags and 1 million protective suits. At that time it was reported that 223 health care workers had been infected with Ebola, and 103 of them had died in Liberia. Fear of the disease also slowed down the functioning of the Liberian government. President Sirleaf, had in an emergency announcement informed absent government ministers and civil service leaders to return to their duties. She fired 10 government officials, including deputy ministers in the central government who failed to return to work.

bowl. Add dry ingredients and combine on low mixer speed just until blended. Turn mixer to high speed for about 3 minutes. Fold in optional walnuts and/or raisins by hand. Pour batter into pans and bake. Plan on about 30–35 minutes for 9-inch layers and a bit longer for 8-inch layers; 50 to 60 minutes for a rectangular pan. A toothpick or tip of a sharp knife inserted into the center of the cake should come out clean. When the cake is cool, frost with maple frosting or cream-cheese frosting. MAPLE FROSTING 4 tablespoons butter (preferably unsalted) ¼ to cup pure maple syrup 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 2½ cups confectioner’s sugar 2 to 3 tablespoons milk (preferably whole) Blend together butter, syrup, vanilla and about a third of the sugar. Alternate milk and sugar. Use as much milk as needed for consistency. If necessary, refrigerate cake before serving to set frosting. CREAM CHEESE FROSTING 8 oz. cream cheese, softened (preferably full fat)

Wicked Quotes Want to Read Rate this book 1 of 5 stars2 of 5 stars3 of 5 stars4 of 5 stars5 of 5 stars Wicked (A Wicked Saga, #1)Wicked by Jennifer L. Armentrout 12,885 ratings, 4.11 average rating, 1,748 reviews Open Preview Wicked Quotes (showing 31-60 of 33) “Tink flew over, hovering next to me. "How was your day, honey?" I smiled faintly as I dropped the bag into the seat then zipped it open. "Not the greatest." He cocked his head to the side. "You want to tell Dr. Tink all about it?" "Thought you didn't like to be called Tink." "Don't question my inconsistencies." I laughed again. "I don't really want to talk about it." I pulled out the box of candies. "But I have pralines.” ― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Wicked 0 likes Like “Oh my God, I . . . I almost got run over by a moped," I said, turning my bewildered stare back on Ren. "That would've been so embarrassing to be taken out by one of them” ― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Wicked 0 likes Like “You got shot? Where? How? By who?" He zipped up in the air, darting left to right, right to left. "Did you cry? I would've cried. A lot. Like a river of motherfucking tears.

She lurched across Alameda, her speed draining like a wound. —65— —60— —55— Larkin turned north on an industrial street parallel to the river. Her building was only blocks away when the air bag exploded. The Aston Martin spun sideways to a stop. White powder hung in the air like haze; sprayed over her shoulders and arms. The other car had been a flashing shape, no more real than a shadow in the sea, a flick of gleaming movement broken by the prisms of her tears, then the impact.

Although Saudi authorities promised after the September 11 attacks to revise textbooks that taught hatred against Jews and Christians, as late as 2006 Saudi texts still referred to Jews as “apes” and Christians as “swine.”27 And in April 2008 a British employment tribunal awarded 70,000 pounds ($115,000) to a teacher who had been fired from a Saudi-funded Islamic school for exposing that the school’s textbooks spoke of “the repugnant characteristics of the Jews” and asserted, “Those whom God has cursed and with whom he is angry, he has turned into monkeys and pigs. They worship Satan.”28 There is an endless parade of similar examples. In March 2004 Sheikh Ibrahim Mudayris, speaking on official Palestinian Authority television, railed against “the Jews today taking revenge for their grandfathers and ancestors, the sons of apes and pigs.”29 And during the swine flu scare in May 2009, Sheikh Ahmad ‘Ali ‘Othman, the superintendent of da’wa [Islamic proselytizing] affairs at the Egyptian Ministry of Religious Endowments, declared that “all pigs are descended from the Jews whom Allah transformed into apes, swine and worshippers of Satan, and must therefore be slaughtered.” Othman based his argument on Koran 5:60, one of the Koran’s notorious “apes and pigs” passages.30 In his televised sermon denouncing the Jews regardless of their actions in Israel or elsewhere, Muhammad Hussein Ya’qoub also invoked this theme: “As for you Jews—the curse of Allah upon you. The curse of Allah upon you, whose ancestors were apes and pigs. . . . Allah, we pray that you transform them again, and make the Muslims rejoice again in seeing them as apes and pigs. You pigs of the earth! You pigs of the earth! You kill the Muslims with that cold pig [blood] of yours.”31 Jews as apes and pigs: it’s in the Koran, holy book of the religion of peace.

The Importance of Israel's Past (1–8) I Will Teach You (1–3) Truths in parables (1–2a) Things hidden from old (2–3) You Will Teach Others (4–8) The wonders of God (4) The word of God (5–8) The Insurrection of Israel's Past (9–16) They Rebelled Against God (9–11) They forsook his word (9) They forgot his works (10–11) God Rescued Them (12–16) God did wonderful things (12) God divided the sea (13) God directed them through the sea (14) God divided the rock (15–16) The Ingratitude of Israel's Past(17–31) They Defied God (17–19) They sinned against him (17) They tested him (18) They spoke against him (19) God Delivered Them (20a) He struck the rock (20a) He served them water (20b) They Disbelieved God (20b) They doubted he would give them bread (20b) They doubted he would give them meat (20b) God Disciplined Them (21) He was wrathful toward them (21a) He was angry with them (21b) They Denied God (22) They did not believe him (22a) They did not trust him (22b) God Delighted Them (23–31) God commanded the clouds (23) God rained down manna (24) God fed them abundantly (25–29) God disciplined them (30–31) The Insincerity of Israel's Past (32–39) They Rejected God (32–37) They sinned against God (32–33) They sought God (34) They remembered God (35) They lied to God (36) They left God (37) God Remained Faithful (38–39) He forgave them (38) He remembered them (39) The Insubordination of Israel's Past (40–55) They Rebelled Against God (40–42) They turned from God (40) They tempted God (41) They forgot God (42) God Rescued Them (43–55) He performed signs (43) He sent plagues (44–51) He led them (52–53) He directed them into the land (54) He drove out the nations (55a) He divided up the land (55b) The Idolatry of Israel's Past (56–72) They Rebelled Against God (56–58) They tested him (56) They turned back from him (57) They provoked him (58) God Disciplined Them (59–61) He abhorred them (59) He abandoned them (60–64) God Favored Them (65–72) He fought for them (65–66) He chose Judah (67–68) He constructed the temple (69) He chose David (70–72)

Why are you so into Pinot?” 2 Maya asks. In the next 60 seconds of the movie, the character of Miles Raymond tells a story which would set off a boom in sales of Pinot Noir. It’s a hard grape to grow. It’s thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It’s not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and thrive even when it’s neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. In fact it can only grow in these really specific, tucked away corners of the world. And only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot’s potential can coax it into its fullest expression. Its flavors are the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and ancient on the planet. Miles is describing himself in the dialogue and using Pinot as a metaphor for his personality. In this one scene moviegoers projected themselves on the character, feeling his longing and his quest to be understood. Sideways was a hit and won an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay. It also launched a movement, turning the misunderstood Pinot Noir into the must-have wine of the year. In less than one year after the movie’s 2004 fall release date, sales of Pinot Noir had risen 18 percent. Winemakers began to grow more of the grape to meet demand. In California alone 70,000 tons of Pinot Noir grapes were harvested and crushed in 2004. Within two years the volume had topped 100,000 tons. Today California wine growers crush more than 250,000 tons of Pinot Noir each year. Interestingly, the Japanese version of the movie did not have the same “Sideways Effect” on wine sales. One reason is that the featured grape is Cabernet, a varietal already popular in Japan. But even more critical and relevant to the discussion on storytelling is that Japanese audiences didn’t see the “porch scene” because there wasn’t one. The scene was not included in the movie. No story, no emotional attachment to a particular varietal. You see, the movie Sideways didn’t launch a movement in Pinot Noir; the story that Miles told triggered the boom. In 60 seconds Maya fell in love with Miles and millions of Americans fell in love with an expensive wine they knew little about.

Demian Farnworth, chief content writer at Copyblogger, defined it this way: A content strategy is “a plan for building an audience by publishing, maintaining, and spreading frequent and consistent content that educates, entertains, or inspires to turn strangers into fans and fans into customers.

We enter into the house of the Lord because we have been declared residents of his house. It is for Christians, it turns out, the only place in this world where we can take comfort in knowing it is the only house where we truly belong and are accepted unconditionally, warts and messes and scars and all. The gospel belongs to Jesus Christ. The gospel is Jesus Christ given “for you.” When he comes to us, we do not have to worry about what it means to us because when our Lord speaks to us, he does what he says, declaring us forgiven of all sin, blessed, and firmly set as a resident in the house of the Lord.

The best non-invasive measurement is the cardiac calcium scoring done in a full-body scan. This measures the amount of calcified material, which in turn gives an accurate assessment of the underlying atherosclerotic load. A measurement of the calcified area is computed. It is known as the Agatston score. A score of 0 means no calcium, and therefore a light atherosclerotic load. A typical 60-year-old man or 70-year-old woman might have a score of 30, which is not a particularly high value, though it could be quite a lot higher. In the absence of exercise and dietary control, the Agatston score will double every two or three years, indicating significant buildup. The score is soon into the hundreds and can go on up into the thousands.

The Guiding Light is the longest-running serial in broadcast history. Still seen on CBS television, its roots go back almost 60 years, to radio’s pioneering soaps. Though its original characters have been swallowed and eclipsed by time, it still has faint ties to the show that was first simulcast July 20, 1952, and in time replaced its radio counterpart with a daily one-hour TV show. Its creator, Irna Phillips, was often called “the queen of soaps.” She was so influential in the field that she was compared with Frank and Anne Hummert, though the comparison was weak. While the Hummerts employed a huge stable of writers and turned out dozens of serials, Phillips wrote her own—two million words of it each year. Using a large month-by-month work chart, Phillips plotted up to half a dozen serials at once, dictating the action to a secretary. Mentally juggling the fates of scores of characters, she churned out quarter-hour slices of life in sessions filled with high drama, acting the parts and changing her voice for the various speaking roles, while secretaries scribbled the dialogue that flowed from her lips. She gave up teaching early in life to enter radio as an actress at Chicago’s WGN. She was 25 that year, 1930. In 1932 she began to write. She discovered that cliffhanger endings were surefire for bringing those early audiences back to their sets each day, but that slow and skillful character development was what kept the audience for years. She decided that the organ was the ideal musical instrument for those little shows and that the instrument should be played with pomp and power, with all the authority of a religious service in a great European cathedral. The music gave weight to the dialogue, which was usually focused and intense.

cup flour and ¼ cup warm water. 2.​Over time, the starter may develop a brown liquid on top. Before you use the starter again, pour off the brown liquid and remove ¼ cup of starter. Discard both. 3.​Make sure you feed your starter each day before baking to strengthen and revive the starter. 4.​If you bake frequently and want to keep the starter going, you can add water and flour daily or even twice a day. 5.​Always make sure to add equal parts warm water and flour. You don’t have to stick to a ¼ cup. You can use as little as a tablespoon in equal amounts or as much as a cup of each. SIMPLE SOURDOUGH BREAD Now that you have a simple starter, let’s make some sourdough. Before you begin, you need to know some differences between sourdough and traditional bread. Unlike traditional bread, sourdough needs to be prepared a day in advance. The dough won’t double in size in an hour like some traditional breads. And there’s a chance you won’t be successful on your first (or second) try. But with tenacity and practice, you’ll be making mouthwatering artisanal loaves in no time. PREP: 1–3 days COOK: 45–60 minutes COOL: 30 minutes 1 cup sourdough starter (preferably fed 3 hours before) 3 – 4 cups flour 1 ½ cups warm water 2 teaspoons salt Optional: 1 tablespoon olive oil DIRECTIONS 1.​Mix bubbly sourdough starter with 1½ cups flour and 1 cup water in a bowl and whisk until the dough looks like batter. 2.​Add salt and remaining flour. When you can no longer whisk, use your hands. Rather than knead the dough, practice folding it. Simply take dough from one side, stretch it up, and fold it on top. Repeat for each side of the dough. Continue to add flour until the texture is sticky and still pourable. 3.​Pour dough into loaf or pie pans until ⅓ full. Cover and allow to rest at room temperature for 8–12 hours or until double in size with a dome on the top. 4.​Take a sharp serrated knife and slice the top of the loaves into a square. 5.​Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place your dough in the refrigerator to stabilize it while the oven preheats. 6.​Bake bread for 45–60 minutes until the edges turn golden. If you prefer your bread browner, brush olive oil on top ten minutes before removing from oven. When you tap on the loaves, they should sound hollow. 7.​Remove and allow to cool on wire racks. Makes 2 loaves.

At Vicksburg 31,600 prisoners were surrendered, together with 172 cannon about 60,000 muskets and a large amount of ammunition. The small-arms of the enemy were far superior to the bulk of ours. Up to this time our troops at the West had been limited to the old United States flintlock muskets changed into percussion, or the Belgian musket imported early in the war—almost as dangerous to the person firing it as to the one aimed at—and a few new and improved arms. These were of many different calibers, a fact that caused much trouble in distributing ammunition during an engagement. The enemy had generally new arms which had run the blockade and were of uniform caliber. After the surrender I authorized all colonels whose regiments were armed with inferior muskets, to place them in the stack of captured arms and replace them with the latter. A large number of arms turned in to the Ordnance Department as captured, were thus arms that had really been used by the Union army in the capture of Vicksburg.

There are sophisticated investors who will straddle a short by buying a call option for $51. If the trend did turn up and the stock price went to $60, the investor would pay $51 per share instead of $60 a share, again minimizing their exposure.

Haste made waste and Grant knew it, but in this case the haste was unavoidable — unavoidable, that is, unless he was willing to take the right of having another general win the prize he was after — because he was fighting two wars simultaneously: one against the Confederacy, or at any rate so much of its army as stood between him and the river town that was his goal, and the other against a man who, like himself, wore blue. That was where the need for haste came in. The rival general's name was John McClernand. A former Springfield lawyer and Illinois congressman, McClernand was known to have political aspirations designed to carry him not one inch below the top position occupied at present by his friend, another former Springfield lawyer and Illinois congressman, Abraham Lincoln. Moreover, having decided that the road to the White house led through Vicksburg, he had taken pains to see that he traveled it well equipped, and this he had done by engaging the support and backing of the President but also the Secretary of War. With the odds thus lengthened against him, Grant — when he belatedly found out what his rival had been up to — could see that his private war against McClernand might well turn out to be as tough, in several ways, as the public one he had been fighting for 18 months against the rebels. In the first place, he had not even known that he had this private war on his hands until it was so well underway that his rival had already won the opening skirmish. (p. 60).

I turn to Oganessian. Despite his discoveries, despite the advances the heaviest elements have brought in decoding our universe, there’s still the greatest question of all. After 60 years in superheavy research, what drives him to continue? Oganessian shrugs. ‘If you have a device that can do this, why not?

1. Preheat the oven to 400˚ F. Make sure there is enough room for a tall pie—you may need to remove a rack. 2. Remove the dough discs from the refrigerator and set aside. 3. In a large skillet, melt the butter. When the butter is sizzling, toss in the apples and stir so they are coated in the butter. Cook for about 10 minutes over medium heat, stirring occasionally. If you do not have a pan large enough, you can do this in two batches. 4. Remove the apples from the skillet (but not the liquid from the pan) and put them in a large bowl. Toss the apples in the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Set aside. 5. Brush the inside of the bottom crust with the beaten egg white. Pile the sautéed apples into the crust, then cover with the remaining dough disc. Trim the crusts, then pinch them together. Using your thumbs and index fingers, crimp the crust edge into a pretty pattern. Slice air vents into the top crust. I like to leave my crusts plain, but you can brush the crust with an egg wash (if you like it shiny) or milk (if you like it brown and soft). 6. Turn the oven down to 375˚ F. Place the pie pan on a cookie sheet, and bake until the crust is a deep golden brown and the filling is bubbling, about 50–60 minutes. 7. Let cool completely before serving.

Once the cover is closed, it’s your turn to dig. To open the Scriptures, using my observations of them as a resource, not a conclusion. My heart for you is that by seeing Him, then and only then will you discover yourself. Primarily, that you need Him. It’s the insufficiency of everything, including devotionals, that signals our need for more than what we’ve been satisfied with.

A woman’s voice came wailing on the wind. Norman looked up and spotted Sandra high up on an even steeper funnel of snow and ice. She was crying: ‘Your father is dead. What are we going to do?’ One of her shoulders was hanging weirdly. There was a bloody wound on her forehead, matted with hair. Then he saw his dad, still in his seat but slumped awkwardly forward. Norman turned around on the steep slope and inched over towards him, sneakers pathetically trying to hold an edge. He slipped and almost plummeted like a bobsleigh down the mountain. He caught a hold. Then he started crawling back up. It took him thirty minutes to climb 6 m (20 ft). His dad was doubled over. ‘DAD!’ No response. Snow was falling on his father’s curly hair. Above him, Sandra sounded delirious. By the time he was four, Norman had skied every black run at Mammoth. On his first birthday, his dad had him strapped to his back in a canvas papoose and took him surfing. Reckless, perhaps, but it had given the boy an indomitable spirit. Eleven-year-old Norman hugged his dad for the last time then tracked back across the slope to see what he could salvage from the wreckage. There were no ice axes or tools, but he did find a rug. He took it and scrabbled back to Sandra. She couldn’t move. Somehow he got her under the ragged remains of the plane’s wing and they wrapped themselves in the rug and fell into an exhausted sleep. Norman was woken around noon by a helicopter. He leapt up, trying to catch the crew’s attention. They came very, very close but somehow didn’t see him. They were going to have to get off this mountain themselves. A brief lull in the storm gave them a sudden view. The slope continued beneath their feet, sickeningly sheer, for hundreds of feet. Then lower down there were woods and the gully levelled a little before a massive ridgeline rose again. Beyond that lay a flatter meadow of snow and, at the edge of the world, a cabin. Sandra wanted to stay put. She was ranting about waiting for the rescuers. For a moment Norman nearly lay down beside her and drifted off to sleep. The

They rested by a tree at the base of a rock wall. Night was only a couple of hours away and they were still thousands of feet above the meadow. Norman didn’t know how they were going to get down. He turned to check on Sandra and suddenly she was gone, tumbling into the icy funnel. ‘An insatiable spirit, he was crazy for the storm. And it saved my life.’ Norman Ollestad, of his father. From Crazy for the Storm by Norman Ollestad. At first he cursed himself for not staying close to her. Then he ate some snow to pacify his savage thirst and kept going down. There was blood on the snow. Lots of it. So much he could follow it like a trail, right down the throat of the funnel. The blood smear ended at a tree. Norman called out. Nothing. He moved past the tree and saw blood again. His chest felt empty. He struggled towards a tree at the edge of the gully and threw his arms around it. He needed to hold something, any living thing.

the craft was already within the Moon’s gravitational sphere of influence making it harder to ‘reverse’. The engine could also have been damaged in the explosion and restarting might cause an even worse disaster. So Mission Control opted for a ‘free return’, essentially using the Moon’s gravity to hitch a ride and slingshot them back towards Earth. First, Apollo 13 needed to be realigned; it had left its initial free return trajectory earlier in the mission as it lined up for its planned lunar landing. Using a small burn of the Lunar Module’s descent propulsion system, the crew got the spacecraft back on track for its return journey. Now they started their nerve-shredding journey round the dark side of the Moon. It was a trip that would demand incredible ingenuity under extreme pressure from the crew, flight controllers, and ground crew if the men were to make it back alive. More problems The Lunar Module ‘lifeboat’ only had enough battery power to sustain two people for two days, not three people for the four days it would take the men to return to Earth. The life support and communication systems had to be powered down to the lowest levels possible. Everything that wasn’t essential was turned off. The drama was being shown on TV but no more live broadcasts were made.

They didn’t know it at the time, but they would be stranded in this barren landscape for more than two months. Lost in a sea of white The plane was white. The area it had crashed in was a vast, remote, snow covered mountain wasteland. Its last position wasn’t known to any accuracy. Despite search parties from three countries flying over the region, the odds of them finding the survivors were very slim. The authorities had to assume the worst. Even if anyone had survived, the simple fact was that after so long in such an environment, they would have perished soon afterwards. The main search was called off after eight days. Survivors waiting to be rescued. The cruellest twist was that the survivors heard this news on a small transistor radio, which they had salvaged from the plane. Remarkably, though, one of the men managed to turn this disappointment into a source of hope:

in that direction towered hundreds of metres above them. Climbing it would sap their energy and expose them to great risks. The trekking team therefore decided to start out east in the hope that the valley that they were in would eventually veer round. Shortly after starting out, the trio found the tail section of the plane, which was still largely intact. It contained luggage with extra clothing, cigarettes and even some snacks. They spent their first night in the tail in relative comfort. But the following night they had to sleep out in the open, fully exposed to the harsh cold. They very nearly froze to death. The valley showed no sign of turning in a convenient direction and so the three men returned the next day to the tail with the plan of salvaging some large batteries they had found and using them to power the radio transmitter in the fuselage.

he heard a voice saying ‘GO’. He crawled to a tree and snapped off a couple of limbs to make improvised ice axes and led Sandra out from under the wing. They stepped and slid down the icy slope an inch at a time. Norman kicked holes with the toes of his trainers and dug the stick in as best he could. Sandra followed behind, her feet half on the snow, half on Norman’s shoulders, her arm still hanging uselessly. The slope slanted across as well as down, drawing them towards an even steeper and icier funnel section of the gulley. Norman tried to keep away from this lethal chute. He looked back up the mountain. They had only gone 9 m (30 ft). They would never make it at this pace. ‘We need to go faster.’ And he turned round to encourage Sandra, only to see her slipping into the insane drop of the funnel. Her hand, her arm, her hip and then her whole body were gone. Norman pushed himself in after her. Momentum took them right across the funnel and Norman caught her as they clattered into jagged rocks on the far side. Bone smashed onto stone as they scrabbled furiously with sticks, fingers, feet – anything to get a grip. Bouncing like a pinball between the boulders they finally came to a stop. Norman’s knuckles were shredded to the bone. But he was too cold to feel any pain. Sandra moaned and started talking about God. There was nothing to do but inch on down the endless chute.

THE TWENTY WHITE GIRL NAMES THAT BEST SIGNIFY HIGH-EDUCATION PARENTS* (YEARS OF MOTHER’S EDUCATION IN PARENTHESES) Lucienne Marie-Claire Glynnis Adair Meira Beatrix Clementine Philippa Aviva Flannery Rotem Oona Atara Linden Waverly Zofia Pascale Eleanora Elika Neeka (16.60) (16.50) (16.40) (16.36) (16.27) (16.26) (16.23) (16.21) (16.18) (16.10) (16.08) (16.00) (16.00) (15.94) (15.93) (15.88) (15.82) (15.80) (15.80) (15.77) Now for the boys’ names that are turning up these days in high-education households.

Pontiac had high hopes for the VOE option and even produced a 60-second TV spot depicting it in action. In the commercial, a silver 1970 GTO hardtop slowly cruised through the parking lot of a drive-through hamburger joint at night. Faces turn as the driver, looking cool and collected, reaches down and pulls the control knob. The already potent exhaust note increases to a raspy burble as more heads turn. The commercial ends with the words: “The Humbler is here, this is the way it’s going

According to money manager David Dreman, over the past thirty years the analysts’ estimate of what companies would earn in the next quarter has been wrong by an average of 41%. Imagine that the TV weatherman said it would be 60 degrees yesterday, and it turned out to be 35 degrees instead—also a 41% error (on the Fahrenheit scale). Now imagine that’s about as accurate as he ever gets. Would you keep listening to his forecasts?

What it is, coming out of and entering into all of those people in a swirl of transubstantiation, is soul music, here taking a shape so stark that it makes the style, in the deepest sense of the word, turn around the record as if that seven-inch disc were the sun, with the first, struggling attempts in the 1950s to discover the music—Ray Charles’s “What Would I Do Without You,” the Chantels’ “If You Try,” the Five Keys’ “Dream On”—and the deep-soul records of the mid-’60s that can seem to take the style, now a form, as far as it could go—Irma Thomas’s “Wish Someone Would Care,” Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness,” and Percy Sledge’s “When a Man Loves a Woman,” Aretha Franklin’s “I Never Loved a Man the Way I Love You,” Lonnie Mack’s “Why,” most of all Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna come”—the planets that circle it. And because soul music is the limitless affirmation of the individual despite his or her past sins and all obstacles in his or her way, an affirmation that remains even in the moment before suicide, as it can seem to be in “Wish Someone Would Care” and “Why,” each of these records can, in the moment in which you hear them, be the sun, and all the rest, “This Magic Moment” spinning with them, again mere planets, maybe even, someday, should they ever fade, and their lies speak more loudly than whatever truths they tell, written out of the book and taken down from the sky, like Pluto—except that once a song has gone into the ether, it never disappears.

Turning 60 hadn't sent me into a tailspin or whipped up an existential crisis. Aging in our business was a luxury most never got. But it straight up pissed me off when I came up against something I couldn't do as easily as I used to. Everyday I walked 10 miles and two hours of yoga; I spent 12 hours a week pounding my fists into a heavy bag and lifting weights. I popped supplements like they were Pez. But once in a while, some little shit like Brad Fogerty crossed my path and I felt every damned year.” ― , Killers of a Certain Age

For Elon Musk, this spectacle has turned into a familiar experience. SpaceX has metamorphosed from the joke of the aeronautics industry into one of its most consistent operators. SpaceX sends a rocket up about once a month, carrying satellites for companies and nations and supplies to the International Space Station. Where the Falcon 1 blasting off from Kwajalein was the work of a start-up, the Falcon 9 taking off from Vandenberg is the work of an aerospace superpower. SpaceX can undercut its U.S. competitors—Boeing, Lockheed Martin, Orbital Sciences—on price by a ridiculous margin. It also offers U.S. customers a peace of mind that its rivals can’t. Where these competitors rely on Russian and other foreign suppliers, SpaceX makes all of its machines from scratch in the United States. Because of its low costs, SpaceX has once again made the United States a player in the worldwide commercial launch market. Its $60 million per launch cost is much less than what Europe and Japan charge and trumps even the relative bargains offered by the Russians and Chinese, who have the added benefit of decades of sunk government investment into their space programs as well as cheap labor. The

Blanchet himself turned his attention to the rivers, establishing observation posts on the Chagres, Trinidad, Obispo, and the Río Grande; these were equipped with fluviographs, which confirmed the challenge that the rainy season would bring to the successful construction and running of the canal, with rivers rising 20 feet in as many hours and their rate of discharge increasing overnight from 3,000 to over 60,000 cubic feet per second. By

Primer of Love [Lesson 3] I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. ~ Groucho Marx Lesson 3) Television kills romance. Read my lips. No fucking broadcast or cable TV. Your 60" LED TV should only to be only used as a monitor to watch movies. Oh, you need the weather? Open the fucking window. The news? You shmuck, that's just a distraction to sell advertising. There are only five important news events per century. In this century, nothing significant has happened since Einstein, Hiroshima, the Human Genome Project, the smart phone and You Tube. All news is simply a variation on these same themes:science, war, health, technology and entertainment. If you're compelled to know the breaking bad news, watch it on your phone while you take a shit, not in the bedroom!

grams kosher salt 2 teaspoons/14 grams pink salt 1⁄4 cup/50 grams maple sugar or packed dark brown sugar 1⁄4 cup/60 milliliters maple syrup One 5-pound/2.25-kilogram slab pork belly, skin on 1. Combine the salt, pink salt, and sugar in a bowl and mix so that the ingredients are evenly distributed. Add the syrup and stir to combine. 2. Rub the cure mixture over the entire surface of the belly. Place skin side down in a 2-gallon Ziploc bag or a nonreactive container just slightly bigger than the meat. (The pork will release water into the salt mixture, creating a brine; it’s important that the meat keep in contact with this liquid throughout the curing process.) 3. Refrigerate, turning the belly and redistributing the cure every other day, for 7 days, until the meat is firm to the touch. 4. Remove the belly from the cure, rinse it thoroughly, and pat it dry. Place it on a rack set over a baking sheet tray and dry in the refrigerator, uncovered, for 12 to 24 hours. 5. Hot-smoke the pork belly (see page 77) to an internal temperature of 150 degrees F./65 degrees C., about 3 hours. Let cool slightly, and when the belly is cool enough to handle but still warm, cut the skin off by sliding a sharp knife between the fat and the skin, leaving as much fat on the bacon as possible. (Discard the skin or cut it into pieces and save to add to soups, stews or beans, as you would a smoked ham hock.) 6. Let the bacon cool, then wrap in plastic and refrigerate or freeze it until ready to use. Yield: 4 pounds/2 kilograms smoked slab bacon A slab of pork belly should have equal proportions of meat and fat. This piece has been squared off and is ready for the cure. To cure bacon, the salts, sugars, and spices are mixed and spread all over the meat. The bacon can be cured in a pan or in a 2-gallon Ziploc bag. SMOKED HAM HOCKS

1. Stop leading with weak pairs. Don’t try the old check-call flop, bet turn small line. Don’t try the variation where you just bet small on the flop either. Just don’t do it. 2. Instead, go ahead and check your weak pairs. Call small early bets with them (like the $20 on the flop in the above example), but fold if your opponent starts betting big money. You might feel like you’ll be pushed around if you play this way, but you won’t. First, most of your opponents at the small stakes will be too timid to try to push you around, and while they’ll take a stab for $20, they won’t try to blow you off your hand for $60 or $100. Second, when your opponents are aggressive, you just help them out with your weak leads. You tell them when it’s safe to bluff. 3. If you see someone else make this play, raise! You know how some players will tell you, “I’ll fold if you raise?” Well, this weak lead play tells you the same thing non-verbally. When someone bets out like this, they’re saying they plan to fold if you raise. So do it.

In fact, instead of illustrating the dominant narrative of success, the Bible testifies to the narrative most pastors experience – the narrative of obscurity. Sometimes faithfulness to God’s work results in the sudden shrinking of a group of followers. People left Jesus in droves when his teaching struck too near the bone. In John 6, just after Jesus feeds the five thousand and walks on water, he tells his disciples, “I tell you the truth, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.” Nobody had any idea what he was talking about; they were confused and offended. “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?” (v. 60 nlt). Jesus’ hard words had devastating consequences for his ministry: “From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him” (v. 66).

Thus, metaphors reshape perception. For example, when the Gospel of John presents Jesus as saying, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven” (John 6:51a), the message jolts his hearers, who are looking for him to play the role of Moses by providing them with miraculous bread to eat (6:30–31). Jesus’ striking response refuses the identification with Moses and posits instead a metaphorical conjunction between himself and the manna that fed the Israelites in the wilderness. The metaphor quickly takes a gruesome turn when Jesus goes on to say, “[T]he bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh,” and affirms that “those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life” (6:51b, 54a). At one level, the metaphorical shock induces the reader to confront the scandal of John’s claim that “the Word became flesh.” (Indeed, the statement that the Word became flesh strikingly illustrates the power of metaphor to “mutilate our world of meanings” and create a new framework for perception.)13 On another level, the metaphor leads the reader to make the imaginative connection between the Exodus story and the church’s Eucharist, with the flesh of Jesus as the startling common term. The hearer of such a metaphor is confronted by two options. We can take offense at this jarring conjunction of images, as did those disciples who went away murmuring, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” (John 6:60). Or, alternatively, we can “understand” the metaphor. To “understand” it, however, is to stand under its authority, to allow our life and perception of reality to be changed in light of the “ontological flash”14 created by the metaphorical conjunction, so that we confess with Peter, “Lord, to whom [else] can we go? You have the words of eternal life” (6:68).

Since 9/11, the level of terror attacks has only increased. In late 2001, terrorists launched a suicide attack on the Parliament in India, intended to cause anarchy. In 2002, a Passover Seder in a hotel in Netanya, Israel, was bombed, killing 29 and injuring 133. In the same year, a café was suicide bombed in Jerusalem, a Hindu Temple in Ahmedabad, India was attacked, and a Bali nightclub was bombed, killing 202. In 2004, four simultaneous attacks took place in Casablanca, killing 33. On March 11, 2004, multiple bombings took place on trains in Madrid, Spain, killing 191 and injuring 1,460. Al Qaeda claimed credit, particularly so after the near-term Spanish elections turned out of office an administration working with the U.S. in Iraq. In 2005, 36 Christians in Demsa, Nigeria, were killed by Muslim militants; al Qaeda bombed London’s Underground, killing 53, and injuring 700; 64 died at the Egyptian resort of Sharm el-Sheikh; 60 died in bombings in Delhi; and 60 died in a series of coordinated attacks on hotels in Amman, Jordan.

He was simply undeveloped compared to teammates who had grown up in the American West, linking 60 mph carved turns at Sun Valley or Crystal Mountain.

Another key to a perfect salad is the sauce, or vinaigrette. Most people don’t think of vinaigrette as a sauce but it is one of the most important in the French repertoire. It always includes mustard, and shallot, garlic, or chives, either vinegar or lemon juice, and most often peanut oil, though olive and canola oil are rapidly becoming more common. The proportions are 1 tablespoon vinegar, 1 teaspoon mustard, ¼ cup (60ml) oil, a pinch of salt. There can be more to a vinaigrette. Try adding a bit of soy sauce (1 teaspoon) when you add the vinegar, mix oils or use just a nut oil—hazelnut and walnut are my favorites, but almond and peanut oil are delicious, too. You can add different herbs aside from the traditional chives—try tarragon, mint, thyme, basil, or fennel fronds—a flavored mustard, a mix of ground peppercorns. One vital tip for making a great salad, whether green, composed, or otherwise, is to thoroughly toss the leaves in the vinaigrette. Some people ask me if they should toss salad with their hands. My resounding response is “Ugh.” Apparently someone at some time said the French do this but I’ve never witnessed this behavior and cannot imagine anything worse. The best utensils for tossing salad are a wooden spoon and fork, though you can use whatever is easiest for you. The point is to fatiguer la salade, tire out the lettuce, by lifting it up and out of the bowl, turning it, and letting it fall back into the bowl as many times as it takes for the lettuce leaves to begin to feel heavy. When they do, they’re perfectly dressed. And finally, toss the lettuce right before you plan to serve the salad. You cannot do this in advance. The acid in the vinaigrette begins to “cook” the leaves almost immediately—they’ll soon be wilted and soft if they’re left to sit.

O Lord, my portion, * I have said, I would keep thy law. 118:58 I entreated thy face with all my heart: * have mercy on me according to thy word. 118:59 I have thought on my ways: * and turned my feet unto thy testimonies. 118:60 I am ready, and am not troubled: *

So how well did Richmond’s unconventional effort to reimagine policing work? Amazingly well, as it turned out. It took some time, but they invested in the approach as a long-term strategy, and after a decade the Positive Tickets system had reduced recidivism from 60 percent to 8 percent.

Here's a quick example. Many foods use carmine, cochineal extract, or natural red 4.These are all names for the same thing. It's something that many companies put into their food to color it red...and it comes from smashing up bugs that turn red when they die.

The casino magnate Sheldon Adelson would pour at least $60 million into the 2012 election, seeking in part to protect foreign tax shelters worth billions. Super PAC spending via the Wyoming mutual-fund honcho Foster Friess was said to have powered Rick Santorum’s upset win in the Iowa caucuses, which in turn kept Santorum going for months. Not since the Gilded Age had a handful of super-rich individuals so easily used their fortunes to fuel the presidential ambitions of a few people so radically out of the mainstream of American politics.

In October 2010 a Bloomberg reporter explained how Google Inc. cut its taxes by $3.1 billion in the previous three years through transfer pricing games known by names such as the “Double Irish” and the “Dutch Sandwich,” ending up with an overseas tax rate of 2.4 percent. The problem is getting worse. Microsoft’s tax bill has been falling sharply, for similar reasons. Cisco is at it. They are all at it. Transfer pricing alone costs the United States an estimated $60 billion a year—and that is just one form of the offshore tax game.