Z Name Quotes

So I hear we get to go to town this weekend. Want to catch a movie or something? --Z P.S. That is, if Jimmy doesn't mind. Translation: This weekend might be a good chance for us to see each other outside our school in a social environment, free of competetiton. I do not view other boys as threats, and I enjoy making them seem insignificant by calling them the wrong names. (Translation by Macey McHenry)

This much I'm certain of: it doesn't happen immediately. You'll finish [the book] and that will be that, until a moment will come, maybe in a month, maybe a year, maybe even several years. You'll be sick or feeling troubled or deeply in love or quietly uncertain or even content for the first time in your life. It won't matter. Out of the blue, beyond any cause you can trace, you'll suddenly realize things are not how you perceived them to be at all. For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how. You'll have forgotten what granted you this awareness in the first place ... You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you'll be afraid to look away, you'll be afraid to sleep. Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

You came after all, Z. Glad you made the party. (Acheron) What the hell? I didn’t have anything better to do. Figured I might as well come kick ass and take names. Not that I really give a damn about their names. I’m just in it for the bloodlust. (Zarek)

You could name practically any problem in the hood and there'd be a rap song for you.

Why' is the only question that bothers people enough to have an entire letter of the alphabet named after it. The alphabet does not go 'A B C D What? When? How?' but it does go 'V W X Why? Z.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

I would like a cappuccino," says Linus politely. "Thank you." "Your name?" "I'll spell it for you," he says. "Z-W-P-A-E-N--" "What?" She stares at him, Sharpie in hand. "Wait, I haven't finished. Double F-hyphen-T-J-U-S. It's an unusual name, Linus adds gravely. "It's Dutch.

My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was bad and senseless from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to be part of the show, find myself in such a violent reaction against it?... Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if i did that, then my argument against God collapsed too--for the argument depended on saying the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my fancies. Thus, in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist - in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless - I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality - namely my idea of justice - was full of sense. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never have known it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.

A creature without a voice. A voice without a name. As immortal as my life. Come here at long last to summon the wind.

Electing a black man named Barack Obama President in the same country that elected George W. Bush - twice! - is as far-fetched as a hustler from Marcy performing at that President's inauguration. But it happened.

Yes, he’s like a rash for which there’s no cure. It only goes away for a bit before returning unexpectedly to ruin every pleasurable experience. He should have been named Herpes rather than ZT. Or maybe just Herpes Z, since he’s a very special irritant. (Arik)

Sometimes we called one another by our future doctor names. We did it partly to be funny, but mostly because we liked it when people did it back to us.

The thread has snapped. No sound even to mark the breaking let alone the fall. That long anticipated disintegration, when the darkest angel of all, the horror beyond all horrors, sits at last upon my chest, permanently enfolding me in its great covering wings, black as ink, veined in Bees' purple. A creature without a voice. A voice without a name. As immortal as my life. Come here at long last to summon the wind.

You might try then, as I did, to find a sky so full of stars it will blind you again. Only no sky can blind you now. Even with all that iridescent magic up there, your eye will no longer linger on the light, it will no longer trace constellations. You'll care only about the darkness and you'll watch it for hours, for days, maybe even for years, trying in vain to believe you're some kind of indispensable, universe-appointed sentinel, as if just by looking you could actually keep it all at bay. It will get so bad you'll be afraid to look away, you'll be afraid to sleep. Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

Dopamine isn’t the pleasure molecule, after all. It’s the anticipation molecule. To enjoy the things we have, as opposed to the things that are only possible, our brains must transition from future-oriented dopamine to present-oriented chemicals, a collection of neurotransmitters we call the Here and Now molecules, or the H&Ns. Most people have heard of the H&Ns. They include serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins (your brain’s version of morphine), and a class of chemicals called endocannabinoids (your brain’s version of marijuana). As opposed to the pleasure of anticipation via dopamine, these chemicals give us pleasure from sensation and emotion. In fact, one of the endocannabinoid molecules is called anandamide, named after a Sanskrit word that means joy, bliss, and delight.

Anyone getting starry-eyed about owning a bookstore should ask herself a few questions: Can you lift a box weighing fifty pounds? Do you know what cat pee on paper smells like and can you get it out? Will you exude patience while solving puzzles that start "I'm looking for a book..." and peter out somewhere between "it has 'The' in the title" and "It has a red cover and the author was a soldier whose last name started with S. Or was it Z?

I am Nothing. He liked the name. It did not make him feel worthless; on the contrary, he began to think of himself as a blank slate upon which anything could be written. The words inscribed on his soul were up to him.

The magic ground against my mind and I heard the same word whispered over and over in my head. “Z’emir-amit. Z’emir-amit. Z’emir-amit.” Oh my God. I knew that name. I read about her. I studied her legends, but I never thought I would come across anything of hers because she had been dead for thousands of years. Dead and buried in distant Iraq, somewhere on the east bank of the Tigris River. That name belonged to the bones in front of me. I could feel it. I knew this magic. I was looking at the corpse of my grandmother. She wanted me to say her name. She wanted to know that I understood. I opened my mouth and said it out loud. “Semiramis.” Her magic drenched me, not the blow of a hammer, but a cascade of power, pouring onto me as if I stood under a waterfall. Z’emir-amit. The Branch Bearer. The Shield of Assyria. The Great Queen Semiramis. A line from Sarchedon floated up from my memory. When she turns her eyes on you, it is like the golden lustre of noon-day; and her smile is brighter and more glorious than sunset in the desert… To look on her face unveiled is to be the Great Queen’s slave for ever more.

Jasper de Zoet. A damn good name. A ‘J’ and a ‘Z.’ Nice high Scrabble score.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. and then the nightmares will begin.

Susan . . . it wasn't a good name, was it? It wasn't a truly bad name, it wasn't like poor Iodine in the fourth form, or Nigella, a name which meant "oops, we wanted a boy." But it was dull. Susan. Sue. Good old Sue. It was a name that made sandwiches, kept its head in difficult circumstances, and could reliably look after other people's children. It was a name used by no queens or goddesses anywhere. And you couldn't do much even with the spelling. You could turn it into Suzi, and it sounded as though you danced on tables for a living. You could put in a Z and a couple of Ns and an E, but it still looked like a name with extensions built on. It was as bad as Sara, a name that cried out for a prosthetic H.

I try not to be angry, bitter at the unfairness of it all. I wish I could make sense of it. I once met an ex-Iranian pilot who was traveling through Canada looking for a place to settle down. He said that Americans are the only people he’s ever met who just can’t accept that bad things can happen to good people. Maybe he’s right. Last week I was listening to the radio and just happened to hear [name withheld for legal reasons]. He was doing his usual thing—fart jokes and insults and adolescent sexuality—and I remember thinking, “This man survived and my parents didn’t.” No, I try not to be bitter.

Ask about those whose names are learned by heart, and you will see that they have these distinguishing marks: X cultivates Y and Y cultivates Z – no one bothers about himself.

Colonel Percy Harrison Fawcett, and his name was known throughout the world.

Some scientists christened dopamine the pleasure molecule, and the pathway that dopamine-producing cells take through the brain was named the reward circuit.

Unfortunately nothing happened with the girls. They just ran off giggling into the night. No digits, no dates, not even their names, leaving me feeling dumb and sad, a bit like a broken thermos- fine on the outside, but on the inside nothing but busted glass.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you’ll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You’ll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you’ll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you’ve got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

Do you ever think about how your name doesn't fit you? I mean, you're usually Kit in my head, but really I think your name should have a Z in it, because you're confusing and zigzagged and pop up in surprising places--like my lunch table and these bleachers. I really didn't think you'd come--and maybe also the neighbor eight, because... never mind, and the letter S too. It's my favorite. S. So yeah, Z8S-139. Or 139-Z8S. That's how I think of you sometimes, in my head," I say. "139-Z8S?" I ask. "Really?" "Or if you prefer, I can call you: Z8S-139. Or Z8 for short.

The Anne Rice books are a lot about infection. I read "Interview With the Vampire" a million times when I was in seventh and eighth grade. Also, [writing Gavriel's backstory] definitely came from those books: I sat down and reread them all and thought a lot about… the way in which vampirism is pushing away from humanity in interesting ways, and creating something new from humanity. I imprinted on those books pretty hard. Tanith Lee's "Sabella or the Blood Stone" was a big inspiration. I absolutely loved her books; when I was a kid, I wrote many bad Tanith Lee pastiches. Susie McKee Charnas' "The Vampire Tapestry." Poppy Z. Brite's "Lost Souls." Nancy Collins' "Sunglasses After Dark," which sounds like the most '80s title ever. It's about a vampire named Sonja Blue, and she goes around killing vampires. She's the only vampire who's half-alive. It's a really fun, blood-filled romp. It's very "Blade" before "Blade"--with a lady.

I know “professional” historians like to talk about how Yonkers represented a “catastrophic failure of the modern military apparatus,” how it proved the old adage that armies perfect the art of fighting the last war just in time for the next one. Personally, I think that’s a big ’ole sack of it. Sure, we were unprepared, our tools, our training, everything I just talked about, all one class-A, gold-standard clusterfuck, but the weapon that really failed wasn’t something that rolled off an assembly line. It’s as old as…I don’t know, I guess as old as war. It’s fear, dude, just fear and you don’t have to be Sun freakin Tzu to know that real fighting isn’t about killing or even hurting the other guy, it’s about scaring him enough to call it a day. Break their spirit, that’s what every successful army goes for, from tribal face paint to the “blitzkrieg” to…what did we call the first round of Gulf War Two, “Shock and Awe”? Perfect name, “Shock and Awe”! But what if the enemy can’t be shocked and awed? Not just won’t, but biologically can’t! That’s what happened that day outside New York City, that’s the failure that almost lost us the whole damn war. The fact that we couldn’t shock and awe Zack boomeranged right back in our faces and actually allowed Zack to shock and awe us! They’re not afraid! No matter what we do, no matter how many we kill, they will never, ever be afraid!

You know how to spell that? G-U-Z-M-A-N. Don’t you go spelling my name wrong, or I’ll have to mess you up.

Brendan shuddered. “Honestly? I’m not sure I can say Dirk without laughing. A less Dirk-like person could not exist. Who named you? Clive Cussler? Dirk Melovitch.

...Zachary winched a few more letters onto his last name and declared himself king of the Z aficionados.

Eichmann’s anti-Semitism undoubtedly started more as a theoretical position than as anything visceral. His closest childhood friend was a Jew named Harry Selbar.

C. S. Lewis’s musings before his conversion: My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was bad from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to be part of the show, find myself in such violent reaction against it? A man feels wet when he falls into water, because man is not a water animal; a fish would not feel wet. Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if I did that, my argument against God collapsed too—for the argument depended on saying that the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my fancies. Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist—in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless—I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality—namely my idea of justice—was full of sense. Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning; just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never have known that it was dark. Dark would be a word without meaning.2

And he went up on the mountain and called to him those  z whom he desired, and they came to him. 14 y And he appointed twelve (whom he also named apostles) so that they might be with him and he might send them out to preach

Here’s what I figured: Edouard was less a man than a symbol for me, a symbol of my yearning for something I couldn’t yet name. If I’d heard of Amelia Earhart at the time, I might have been as willing to follow her lead as I was Edouard’s.

Sing praises to the LORD, O you  y his saints,         and  z give thanks to his holy name. [2]     5  a For his anger is but for a moment,         and  b his favor is for a lifetime. [3]      c Weeping may tarry for the night,         but  d joy comes with the morning.

8When the circumcising of the whole nation was finished, they remained in their places in the camp until they were healed. 9And the LORD said to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away the  yreproach of Egypt from you.” And so the name of that place is called  zGilgal [2] to this day.

In the name of speed, Morse and Vail had realized that they could save strokes by reserving the shorter sequences of dots and dashes for the most common letters. But which letters would be used most often? Little was known about the alphabet’s statistics. In search of data on the letters’ relative frequencies, Vail was inspired to visit the local newspaper office in Morristown, New Jersey, and look over the type cases. He found a stock of twelve thousand E’s, nine thousand T’s, and only two hundred Z’s. He and Morse rearranged the alphabet accordingly. They had originally used dash-dash-dot to represent T, the second most common letter; now they promoted T to a single dash, thus saving telegraph operators uncountable billions of key taps in the world to come. Long afterward, information theorists calculated that they had come within 15 percent of an optimal arrangement for telegraphing English text.

And now,  y O priests,  z this command is for you. 2 a If you will not listen, if you will not take it to heart to give honor to my name, says the LORD of hosts, then I will send  b the curse upon you and I will curse  c your blessings. Indeed, I have already cursed them, because you do not lay it to heart.

From his beach bag the man took an old penknife with a red handle and began to etch the signs of the letters onto nice flat pebbles. At the same time, he spoke to Mondo about everything there was in the letters, about everything you could see in them when you looked and when you listened. He spoke about A, which is like a big fly with its wings pulled back; about B, which is funny, with its two tummies; or C and D, which are like the moon, a crescent moon or a half-full moon; and then there was O, which was the full moon in the black sky. H is high, a ladder to climb up trees or to reach the roofs of houses; E and F look like a rake and a shovel; and G is like a fat man sitting in an armchair. I dances on tiptoes, with a little head popping up each time it bounces, whereas J likes to swing. K is broken like an old man, R takes big strides like a soldier, and Y stands tall, its arms up in the air, and it shouts: help! L is a tree on the river's edge, M is a mountain, N is for names, and people waving their hands, P is asleep on one paw, and Q is sitting on its tail; S is always a snake, Z is always a bolt of lightning, T is beautiful, like the mast on a ship, U is like a vase, V and W are birds, birds in flight; and X is a cross to help you remember.

This denial is bizarre. Last time Chomsky denied something I attributed to him, it was Chomsky's word against mine and there was no way to resolve this argument. This time, however, there's some fairly conclusive evidence. Look at http://blog.zmag.org/ttt/. It describes itself as 'the official weblog of Professor Noam Chomsky', and it is attached to Z Magazine, for which Chomsky has regularly written for over a decade. It claims Chomsky makes direct blog entries. Yet Chomsky claims he has 'nothing to with with it'. Are we really meant to believe this? If it is true, why does he carry on writing for a magazine that publishes a false blog in his name?

Here’s what I figured: Édouard was less a man than a symbol for me, a symbol of my yearning for something I couldn’t yet name. If I’d heard of Amelia Earhart at the time, I might have been as willing to follow her lead as I was Édouard’s. I wasn’t in love with him, not really. Édouard was a symbol. Édouard was a symptom. Scott, for all his shortcomings, owned my heart.

The LORD said to Moses, 2“See, I have called by name  x Bezalel the son of Uri, son of  y Hur, of the tribe of Judah, 3and I have  z filled him with the Spirit of God, with ability and intelligence, with knowledge and all craftsmanship, 4to devise artistic designs, to work in gold, silver, and bronze, 5in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, to work in every craft.

He imagined a town called A. Around the communal fire they’re shaping arrowheads and carving tributes o the god of the hunt. One day some guys with spears come over the ridge, perform all kinds of meanness, take over, and the new guys rename the town B. Whereupon they hang around the communal fire sharpening arrowheads and carving tributes to the god of the hunt. Some climatic tragedy occurs — not carving the correct tributary figurines probably — and the people of B move farther south, where word is there’s good fishing, at least according to those who wander to B just before being cooked for dinner. Another tribe of unlucky souls stops for the night in the emptied village, looks around at the natural defenses provided by the landscape, and decides to stay awhile. It’s a while lot better than their last digs — what with the lack of roving tigers and such — plus it comes with all the original fixtures. they call the place C, after their elder, who has learned that pretending to talk to spirits is a fun gag that gets you stuff. Time passes. More invasions, more recaptures, D, E, F, and G. H stands as it is for a while. That ridge provides some protection from the spring floods, and if you keep a sentry up there you can see the enemy coming for miles. Who wouldn’t want to park themselves in that real estate? The citizens of H leave behind cool totems eventually toppled by the people of I, whose lack of aesthetic sense if made up for by military acumen. J, K, L, adventures in thatched roofing, some guys with funny religions from the eastern plains, long-haired freaks from colder climes, the town is burned to the ground and rebuilt by still more fugitives. This is the march of history. And conquest and false hope. M falls to plague, N to natural disaster — same climatic tragedy as before, apparently it’s cyclical. Mineral wealth makes it happen for the O people, and the P people are renowned for their basket weaving. No one ever — ever — mentions Q. The dictator names the city after himself; his name starts with the letter R. When the socialists come to power they spend a lot of time painting over his face, which is everywhere. They don’t last. Nobody lasts because there’s always somebody else. They all thought they owned it because they named it and that was their undoing. They should have kept the place nameless. They should have been glad for their good fortune, and left it at that. X, Y, Z.

Since my school days when I accidentally discovered this form of verse called ‘Limerick’, I have often wondered about the origin of the name. Was it invented in Ireland perhaps? After some research and several years, I think not. The limerick must have been invented long before it reached the jocular pubs of Limerick in Ireland where the Irish undoubtedly made very good use of it whilst consuming copious amounts of Guinness.

9Or do you not know that the unrighteous [2] will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived:  x neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, [3] 10nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. 11And  y such were some of you. But  z you were washed,  a you were sanctified,  b you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.

Bless the LORD, O My Soul Of David.     PSALM 103  y Bless the LORD, O my soul,         and all that is within me,         bless his holy name! 2     y Bless the LORD, O my soul,         and  z forget not all his benefits, 3    who  a forgives all your iniquity,         who  b heals all your diseases, 4    who  c redeems your life from the pit,         who  d crowns you with steadfast love and mercy, 5    who  e satisfies you with good         so that your youth is renewed like  f the eagle’s.

Alternatively, the name may refer to the prized textile dye, ranging in hue from red to dark purple, which was Phoenicia’s prime luxury product. Extracted from sea mollusks’ dead bodies through a secret process, this uniquely beautiful and expensive purple, exported in woven clothing and furnishings, became an international status symbol in antiquity, its use confined to the very rich, chiefly royalty. Down through the early 20th century A.D., the color purple was associated in Europe with kings and emperors.

In the deep, wet tangled, wild jungle where even natives won't go is a mystical, dangerous river. The river's got no name because naming it would make it real, and no one wanted to believe that river be real. They say you get there only inside a dream-but don't you think of it at bedtime, now, 'cause not everyone who goes there be able to leave! That jungle canopy, it so leafy true daylight can never break in the riverbank, it be wet muck thick with creatures that eat you alive if you stay still too long. To miss that fate, you gots to go into the black water. But the water be heavy as hot tar; once you in, it bind you and pull you along, bit by bit, 'til you come to the end of the land, and then over the water goes in a dark, slow cascade, the highest falls in the history of the world ever. There be demons in that cascading water, and snakes, and wraiths that whisper in your ears. They love you, they say. You should give yourself to them, stay with them, become one of them, they say. 'Isn't it good here?' they say. 'No pain, no trouble.' But also no light and no love and no joy and no ground. You tumble and tumble as you fall, and you try and choose, but your mind be topsy-turvy and maybe you can't think so well, and maybe you can't choose right, and maybe you never wake up. "It felt like that," I tell Tootsie, "even after you got me out and Scott moved me to Highland. I couldn't choose. I couldn't shut out the wraiths...But you would say, 'Hang on, sweetie,' and Scottie would say, 'I miss you, Mama,' and Scott would hold me, just hold me and say nothing at all." Tootsie snorts. "Scott was useless the whole while." "Scott was in the river, too.

Only 0.0005 percent of brain cells produce dopamine—one in two million—yet these cells appeared to exert an outsized influence on behavior. Research participants experienced feelings of pleasure when they turned dopamine on, and went to great lengths to trigger the activation of these rare cells. In fact, under the right circumstances, pursuit of feel-good dopamine activation became impossible to resist. Some scientists christened dopamine the pleasure molecule, and the pathway that dopamine-producing cells take through the brain was named the reward circuit.

PSALM 91 He who dwells in  a the shelter of the Most High         will abide in  b the shadow of the Almighty. 2    I will say [1] to the LORD, “My  c refuge and my  d fortress,         my God, in whom I  e trust.”     3 For he will deliver you from  f the snare of the fowler         and from the deadly pestilence. 4    He will  g cover you with his pinions,         and under his  h wings you will  i find refuge;         his  j faithfulness is  k a shield and buckler. 5     l You will not fear  m the terror of the night,         nor the arrow that flies by day, 6    nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,         nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.     7 A thousand may fall at your side,         ten thousand at your right hand,         but it will not come near you. 8    You will only look with your eyes         and  n see the recompense of the wicked.     9 Because you have made the LORD your  o dwelling place—         the Most High, who is my  c refuge [2]— 10     p no evil shall be allowed to befall you,          q no plague come near your tent.     11  r For he will command his  s angels concerning you         to  t guard you in all your ways. 12    On their hands they will bear you up,         lest you  u strike your foot against a stone. 13    You will tread on  v the lion and the  w adder;         the young lion and  x the serpent you will  y trample underfoot.     14 “Because he  z holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;         I will protect him, because he  a knows my name. 15    When he  b calls to me, I will answer him;         I will be with him in trouble;         I will rescue him and  c honor him. 16    With  d long life I will satisfy him         and  e show him my salvation.

His Steadfast Love Endures Forever A Psalm for  o giving thanks.     PSALM 100  p Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth!         2  q Serve the LORD with gladness!          r Come into his presence with singing!     3 Know that  s the LORD, he is God!         It is he who  t made us, and  u we are his; [1]         we are his  v people, and  w the sheep of his pasture.     4  x Enter his gates with thanksgiving,         and his  y courts with praise!         Give thanks to him;  z bless his name!     5  a For the LORD is good;         his steadfast love endures forever,         and his  b faithfulness to all generations.

My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was bad and senseless from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to be part of the show, find myself in such violent reaction against it? A man feels wet when he falls into water, because man is not a water animal: a fish would not feel wet. Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if I did that, then my argument against God collapsed too—for the argument depended on saying that the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my fancies. Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist—in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless—I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality—namely my idea of justice—was full of sense. Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be a word without meaning.

Moreover, although reference works existed on library shelves in available, and redundant, profusion, no direct access could be obtained to the banned, or burned, books of the three cosmologists, Xertigny, Yates and Zotov (pen names), who had recklessly started the whole business half a century earlier, causing, and endorsing, panic, demency and execrable romanchiks. All three scientists had vanished now: X had committed suicide; Y had been kidnapped by a laundryman and transported to Tartary; and Z, a ruddy, white-whiskered old sport, was driving his Yakima jailers crazy by means of incomprehensible crepitations, ceaseless invention of invisible inks, chameleonizations, nerve signals, spirals of out-going lights and feats of ventriloquism that imitated pistol shots and sirens.

Walk in Love EPHESIANS 5  j Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. 2And  k walk in love,  l as Christ loved us and  m gave himself up for us, a  n fragrant  o offering and sacrifice to God. 3But  p sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness  q must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. 4Let there be  r no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking,  s which are out of place, but instead  t let there be thanksgiving. 5For you may be sure of this, that  u everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous ( v that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. 6 w Let no one  x deceive you with empty words, for because of these things  y the wrath of God comes upon  z the sons of disobedience. 7Therefore  a do not become partners with them; 8for  b at one time you were  c darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.  d Walk as children of light

As the Father has loved me,  jso have I loved you. Abide in my love. 10 kIf you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as  lI have kept  mmy Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11These things I have spoken to you,  nthat my joy may be in you, and that  oyour joy may be full. 12 p“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13 qGreater love has no one than this,  rthat someone lay down his life for his friends. 14You are  smy friends  tif you do what I command you. 15 uNo longer do I call you servants, [1] for the servant  wdoes not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for  xall that I have heard from my Father  yI have made known to you. 16You did not choose me, but  zI chose you and appointed you that you should go and  abear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that  bwhatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. 17These things I command you,  cso that you will love one another.

Řekl jí, že na Lilu myslí ve dne v noci, ale ne s normální touhou, touha po ní se nepodobá té, kterou zná. Ve skutečnosti ji nechce. Tedy, nechce ji tak, jak obvykle chce ženský, aby je dostal pod sebe, obrátil je, převrátil je, rozpáral je, rozmlátil je, dupal po nich a rozdrtil je. Nechce ji, aby si ji vzal a zapomněl na ni. Chce ji s její bystrou hlavou plnou nápadů. Chce ji s její tvořivostí. A chce ji, ne aby ji zničil, ale aby mu vydržela. Nechce ji, aby ji opíchal, to slovo mu ve spojení s Lilou vadí. Chce ji, aby ji mohl líbat a objímat. Chce ji, aby ho hladila, pomáhala mu, vedla ho, rozkazovala mu. Chce ji, aby viděl, jak se v průběhu času mění, jak stárne. Chce ji, aby s ní věci probíral a aby mu pomáhala věci promyslet. Chápeš? Mluvil o ní tak, jak se mnou, se mnou, se kterou se brzo ožení, nikdy nemluvil. Přísahám, že to tak je. Mumlal: můj brácha Marcello, ten debil Stefano a Enzo se svým prdelním ksichtem, co ty z Liny pochopili? Uvědomili si, o co přišli, o co by mohli přijít? Ne, nejsou na to dost inteligentní. Jen já vím, co ona je, kdo je. Já jsem poznal její pravou povahu. A trpím při pomyšlení, jak se ničí.

Is she now? I didn’t know the FBI investigated murders,” Mama Z said. “I thought such things were matters for local authorities.” “There might be some civil rights violations involved,” Hind said. “Whose civil rights?” “I don’t know yet.” “I ask because you have to have civil rights in order for the them to be violated.” Mama Z let that hang in the air. “I’m sorry. Forgive my manners. We can sit in here. Gertie, be a dear and make us some tea and bring some cookies. Make sure the cat doesn’t come in here and bother us.” Gertrude nodded. “I actually like cats,” Hind said. “This one sheds like crazy,” Mama Z said. “Your suit would be a mess before you could say, ‘Mississippi goddamn.’” She didn’t quite sing the words. “What is your last name, Mama Z?” Hind asked. “Everybody just calls me Mama Z.” “But for my notes.” “Lynch. My name is Adelaide Lynch.” To Gertrude, “Go get that tea, baby.” Gertrude left. “Where does the Z come in?” “I don’t quite remember,” the old woman said. “It’s easier to spell than Omega.” Mama Z looked Hind in the eye. “How old are you?” “One hundred and five.” “You look great. Moving around like this. Do you live alone?” “Yes.” “That’s amazing. What’s your secret?” “Venom.” “What?” Hind asked. “It’s what I call my nightly tea,” Mama Z said, then, conspiratorially, she added, “I mix it with bourbon.” “I see.

Isis is the Egyptian mother goddess of magick, whose worship prevailed in the Greco-Roman world.  Her name means “Throne”, reflected in her headdress which is shaped like a throne.  Her spouse was originally Osiris, but became Serapis in the Greco-Roman myths, and her son became transformed from Horus to Harpocrates. Evidence of her worship in Britain has been found in an inscription on a jug  found in Southwark (London).[369]  The inscription on the jug indicates an Iseum (Isis temple) in London, but the location of this temple has yet to be determined.  An altar found in Blackfriars records the restoration of a temple to Isis in the third century CE, further reinforcing evidence of her worship.[370]  It has been suggested by some modern writers that the river Isis in Oxfordshire was named after this goddess, though this may in fact be a coincidence. The name of the river Isis is most probably a contraction of the name Thamesis. It is likely that "Thamesis" is a Latinisation of the Celtic river names "Taom"(Thames) and"Uis"(is), giving "Taom-Uis"meaning "The pouring out of water". An engraved onyx intaglio found at Wroxeter (Shropshire) dating to the third century CE shows Isis bearing a sistrum in her right hand.[371]  Another gem from Lockleys (Hertfordshire) dating to the fourth century CE shows Isis standing between Bes and a lioness, all surrounded by a serpent ouroboros.[372]

David's Song of Thanks     8  f Oh give thanks to the LORD;  g call upon his name;          h make known his deeds among the peoples!     9 Sing to him, sing praises to him;         tell of all his wondrous works!     10 Glory in his holy name;         let the hearts of those who seek the LORD rejoice!     11  i Seek the LORD and his strength;         seek his presence continually!     12  j Remember the wondrous works that he has done,          k his miracles and the judgments he uttered,     13 O offspring of Israel his servant,         children of Jacob, his chosen ones!     14 He is the LORD our God;          l his judgments are in all the earth.     15 Remember his covenant forever,         the word that he commanded, for a thousand generations,     16 the covenant  m that he made with Abraham,         his sworn promise to Isaac,     17 which  n he confirmed to Jacob as a statute,         to Israel as an everlasting covenant,     18 saying,  o “To you I will give the land of Canaan,         as your portion for an inheritance.”     19 When you were  p few in number,         of little account, and  q sojourners in it,     20 wandering from nation to nation,         from one kingdom to another people,     21 he allowed no one to oppress them;         he  r rebuked kings on their account,     22 saying, “Touch not my anointed ones,         do my  s prophets no harm!”     23  t Sing to the LORD, all the earth!         Tell of his salvation from day to day.     24 Declare his glory among the nations,         his marvelous works among all the peoples!     25 For  u great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised,         and he is to be feared  v above all gods.     26 For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols,          w but the LORD made the heavens.     27 Splendor and majesty are before him;         strength and joy are in his place.     28 Ascribe to the LORD, O families of the peoples,          x ascribe to the LORD glory and strength!     29 Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name;         bring an offering and come before him!      y Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; [2]         30 tremble before him, all the earth;         yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved.     31  z Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice,         and let them say among the nations,  a “The LORD reigns!”     32  b Let the sea roar, and all that fills it;         let the field exult, and everything in it!     33 Then shall the trees of the forest sing for joy         before the LORD, for he comes to judge the earth.     34 Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;         for his steadfast love endures forever! 35 c Say also:     “Save us, O God of our salvation,         and gather and deliver us from among the nations,     that we may give thanks to your holy name         and glory in your praise.     36  d Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel,         from everlasting to everlasting!”  e Then all the people said, “Amen!” and praised the LORD.

JOHN 14  d“Let not your hearts be troubled.  eBelieve in God; [1] believe also in me. 2In  fmy Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that  gI go to prepare a place for you? [2] 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you  hto myself, that  iwhere I am you may be also. 4And you know the way to where I am going.” [3] 5 jThomas said to him, “Lord,  kwe do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” 6Jesus said to him, “I am  lthe way, and  mthe truth, and  nthe life. No one comes to the Father except through me. 7 oIf you had known me, you would have  pknown my Father also. [4] From now on you do know him and  qhave seen him.” 8 rPhilip said to him, “Lord,  sshow us the Father, and it is enough for us.” 9Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip?  tWhoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? 10Do you not believe that  uI am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you  vI do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. 11Believe me that  uI am in the Father and the Father is in me, or else  wbelieve on account of the works themselves. 12“Truly, truly, I say to you,  xwhoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I  yam going to the Father. 13 zWhatever you ask in my name, this I will do, that  athe Father may be glorified in the Son. 14 zIf you ask me [5] anything in my name, I will do it.

Mithras is a Persian light and warrior god adopted by the Roman army as their tutelary deity.  His name means “Friend”.  Mithras was the emissary of Ahura Mazda, the supreme power of good, who battled Ahriman, the supreme evil.  Mithras slew the divine bull to release its life-giving blood into the earth, and creatures that served Ahriman like scorpions and serpents tried to stop this happening. Mithras was often depicted with a pointed cap, and a number of reliefs show him in the act of slaying the bull.  As a solar god he was directly equated to Sol Invictus by the Romans, as can be seen from inscriptions.[469]  Twelve inscriptions to him have been found to date.[470] There were seven grades in the Mithraic mysteries, which were only open to free men.  The Mithraic cult was highly tolerant of other deities, as is evidences by depictions of other gods in the shrines.  Also as the soldier god, priesthoods were known to bring their statues to the Mithraea (temples) for protection when danger threatened. The Mithraea were usually small, and have preserved their mysteries to an extent as little writing remains from them.  A relief from Housesteads (Northumberland) shows Mithras bearing a sword and spear rising from an egg, surrounded by a hoop depicting the signs of the zodiac.  A silver amulet found at St Albans similarly depicts Mithras rising from a pile of stones.  More commonly images on altars showed him sacrificing a bull, such as at Rudchester (Northumberland), Carrawburgh (Northumberland) and the London Mithraeum.  There are now five known Mithraea in Britain, those at Caernarvon, Carrawburgh, Housesteads, London and Rudchester.  Of these all were purely military apart from the London Mithraea. 

The Ten Commandments EXODUS 20  z And  a God spoke all these words, saying, 2 b “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 3 c “You shall have no other gods before [1] me. 4 d “You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. 5 e You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am  f a jealous God,  g visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, 6but showing steadfast love to thousands [2] of those who love me and keep my commandments. 7 h “You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain. 8 i “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. 9 j Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, 10but the  k seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, you, or your son, or your daughter, your male servant, or your female servant, or your livestock, or the  l sojourner who is within your gates. 11For  m in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. 12 n “Honor your father and your mother,  o that your days may be long in the land that the LORD your God is giving you. 13 p “You shall not murder. [3] 14 q “You shall not commit adultery. 15 r “You shall not steal. 16 s “You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 17 t “You shall not covet  u your neighbor’s house;  v you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or his male servant, or his female servant, or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that is your neighbor’s.

THIS IS MY ABC BOOK of people God loves. We’ll start with . . .           A: God loves Adorable people. God loves those who are Affable and Affectionate. God loves Ambulance drivers, Artists, Accordion players, Astronauts, Airplane pilots, and Acrobats. God loves African Americans, the Amish, Anglicans, and Animal husbandry workers. God loves Animal-rights Activists, Astrologers, Adulterers, Addicts, Atheists, and Abortionists.           B: God loves Babies. God loves Bible readers. God loves Baptists and Barbershop quartets . . . Boys and Boy Band members . . . Blondes, Brunettes, and old ladies with Blue hair. He loves the Bedraggled, the Beat up, and the Burnt out . . . the Bullied and the Bullies . . . people who are Brave, Busy, Bossy, Bitter, Boastful, Bored, and Boorish. God loves all the Blue men in the Blue Man Group.           C: God loves Crystal meth junkies,           D: Drag queens,           E: and Elvis impersonators.           F: God loves the Faithful and the Faithless, the Fearful and the Fearless. He loves people from Fiji, Finland, and France; people who Fight for Freedom, their Friends, and their right to party; and God loves people who sound like Fat Albert . . . “Hey, hey, hey!”           G: God loves Greedy Guatemalan Gynecologists.           H: God loves Homosexuals, and people who are Homophobic, and all the Homo sapiens in between.           I: God loves IRS auditors.           J: God loves late-night talk-show hosts named Jimmy (Fallon or Kimmel), people who eat Jim sausages (Dean or Slim), people who love Jams (hip-hop or strawberry), singers named Justin (Timberlake or Bieber), and people who aren’t ready for this Jelly (Beyoncé’s or grape).           K: God loves Khloe Kardashian, Kourtney Kardashian, Kim Kardashian, and Kanye Kardashian. (Please don’t tell him I said that.)           L: God loves people in Laos and people who are feeling Lousy. God loves people who are Ludicrous, and God loves Ludacris. God loves Ladies, and God loves Lady Gaga.           M: God loves Ministers, Missionaries, and Meter maids; people who are Malicious, Meticulous, Mischievous, and Mysterious; people who collect Marbles and people who have lost their Marbles . . . and Miley Cyrus.           N: God loves Ninjas, Nudists, and Nose pickers,           O: Obstetricians, Orthodontists, Optometrists, Ophthalmologists, and Overweight Obituary writers,           P: Pimps, Pornographers, and Pedophiles,           Q: the Queen of England, the members of the band Queen, and Queen Latifah.           R: God loves the people of Rwanda and the Rebels who committed genocide against them.           S: God loves Strippers in Stilettos working on the Strip in Sin City;           T: it’s not unusual that God loves Tom Jones.           U: God loves people from the United States, the United Kingdom, and the United Arab Emirates; Ukrainians and Uruguayans, the Unemployed and Unemployment inspectors; blind baseball Umpires and shady Used-car salesmen. God loves Ushers, and God loves Usher.           V: God loves Vegetarians in Virginia Beach, Vegans in Vietnam, and people who eat lots of Vanilla bean ice cream in Las Vegas.           W: The great I AM loves will.i.am. He loves Waitresses who work at Waffle Houses, Weirdos who have gotten lots of Wet Willies, and Weight Watchers who hide Whatchamacallits in their Windbreakers.           X: God loves X-ray technicians.           Y: God loves You.           Z: God loves Zoologists who are preparing for the Zombie apocalypse. God . . . is for the rest of us. And we have the responsibility, the honor, of letting the world know that God is for them, and he’s inviting them into a life-changing relationship with him. So let ’em know.

Hoodoo, Hoodoo Doctor, Hoodoo Man, Hoodoo Woman: A melting pot American magic, Hoodoo was born when enslaved African magical practitioners, deprived of their traditional materials, were forced to develop an entirely new botanical repertoire to fuel their emergency magic. These practitioners exemplify the ideal of the questing, curious occultist: they took wisdom from all available sources, applied it to a blended West and Central African framework and created a powerful new system of practical magic. In addition to African traditions, Hoodoo incorporates Native American, European and Romany traditions, Freemasonry, Kabalah, and Pow-Wow. Hoodoo may be used as a noun or verb: • Hoodoo names the magical tradition. • Hoodoo names the action of spell-casting: “I will hoodoo you.” • Hoodoo names a state of bewitchment: “I’ve been hoodooed.” Unlike hex or jinx, Hoodoo is a neutral term: one can be Hoodooed with love and blessings as well as curses. Further Reading: Catherine Yronwode’s Hoodoo Herb and Root Magic (Lucky Mojo, 2002).

Heathen: This Anglo-Saxon word literally means “dweller on the heath.” The heath is the area outside the settlement; post-Christianity, those wishing to maintain old traditions retired to the heath, hence the name. It came to be synonymous with “Pagan,” sometimes with the added implication of rude, ignorant barbarian. The word has been reclaimed by Neo-Pagans subscribing to Northern European traditions and today is used with pride. See also Asatru

Erich Auerbach, one of the greatest names in literary criticism, wrote his work Mimesis in Turkey.

I'm losing any sense of who he was, no name, no history, only the awful panic he felt, universal to us all.

Others rolled on the floor, foaming at the mouth. Cemal’s father had told him that this was a state of ecstasy caused by submission to God through reciting his Holy Name. In fact, it was the result of the effect of the rhythmic chant at a tempo of 124 beats per minute. In Middle Eastern rituals, the name “Allah” recited at this tempo soon sends a person into a trance, this being the same tempo at which the heart beats. The same thing applies in discotheques all over the world, when the drum beats 124 times a minute.

It was the concept of self, in any case, which was the problem. What did “me,” “myself,” “I” really mean? To repeat one’s own name over and over is enough to feel separated from self. But how could one not become a stranger to the “self” one carried with one from birth to death, nor alienated from the “id”?

One result was the publication of the names of confidential informants, including political dissidents, who had spoken with American diplomats in Iran, China, Afghanistan, the Arab world, and elsewhere.6 As a consequence, some of these individuals had to be relocated to protect their lives. More importantly, the revelations made it more difficult for American diplomats to acquire human intelligence in the future, since the confidentiality of conversations could not be relied upon.

You do X for Y because you want to solve Z.

Strange how, as desire relaxes its grip on her body, she sees more and more clearly a universe ruled by desire. Haven't you read your Newton, she would like to say to the people in the dating agency (would like to say to Nietzsche too if she could get in touch with him)? Desire runs both ways: A pulls B because B pulls A, and vice versa: that is how you go about building a universe. Or if desire is still too rude a word, then what of appetency? Appetency and chance: a powerful duo, more than powerful enough to build a cosmology on, from the atoms and the little things with nonsense names that make up atoms to Alpha Centauri and Cassiopeia and the great dark back of beyond. The gods and ourselves, whirled helplessly around by the winds of chance, yet pulled equally towards each other, towards not only B and C and D but towards X and Y and Z and Omega too. Not the least thing, not the last thing but is called to by love.

Strange how, as desire relaxes its grip on her body, she sees more and more clearly a universe read by desire. Haven't you read your Newton, she would like to say to the people in the dating agency (would like to say to Nietzsche too if she could get in touch with him)? Desire runs both ways. A pulls B because B pulls A, and vice versa: that is how you go about building a universe. Or if desire is still too rude a word, then what of appetency? Appetency and chance: a powerful duo, more than powerful enough to build a cosmology on, from the atoms and the little things with nonsense names that make up atoms to Alpha Centauri and Cassiopeia and the great dark back of beyond. The gods and ourselves, whirled helplessly around by the winds of chance, yet pulled equally towards each other, towards not only B and C and D but towards X and Y and Z and Omega too. Not the least thing, not the last thing but is called to by love.

The word “evil” contains nothing pathetic, nothing horrible, nothing sublime, it is objective and dry, it precisely indicates what it is actually about, it is ordinary, it is the same as the word “stone” or the word “cloud”; it's accurate matched to the subject, unmistakably falls into its reality, [...] Evil is a thing, it is as simple as a thing. But you don’t want to hear about it. While facing the destruction you will keep repeating with manic persistence: it is so, it became so, it just became so, but it could have been different: evil is an event that happens by chance and anywhere, but if someone can stand with resolve on its way — it can be prevented. The end of the world will find you in full confidence that the end of the world is an accident. After all, you don't believe in the devil. Seeing unnecessary cruelty, seeing joyless and aimless destruction, you don't even think about the devil. You have so many explanations and so many names at hand to explain away every aspect of the problem. You have your Freud to talk about the aggressive drive and death instinct, you have your Jaspers who tells you about the “passion for the night,” [...] you have yours Nietzsche, you have your psychologists with their “will to power”. You know how to hide a case behind words under the pretext of revealing it.

The dove, the chosen symbol of this deified queen, is commonly represented with an olive branch in her mouth, as she herself in her human form also is seen bearing the olive branch in her hand; and from this form of representing her, it is highly probably that she has derived the name by which she is commonly known, for "Z'emir-amit' means "The branch-bearer." When the goddess was thus represented as the Dove with the olive branch, there can be no doubt that the symbol had partly reference to the story of the flood; but there was much more in the symbol than a mere memorial of that great event. "A branch," as had been already proved, was the symbol of the deified son, and when the deified mother was represented as a Dove, what could the meaning of this representation be but just to identify her with the Spirit of all grace, that brooded, dove-like, over the deep at the creation; for in the sculptures at Nineveh, as we have seen, the wings and tail of the dove represented the third member of the idolatrous Assyrian trinity.

It’s fear, dude, just fear and you don’t have to be Sun freakin Tzu to know that real fighting isn’t about killing or even hurting the other guy, it’s about scaring him enough to call it a day. Break their spirit, that’s what every successful army goes for, from tribal face paint to the “blitzkrieg” to…what did we call the first round of Gulf War Two, “Shock and Awe”? Perfect name, “Shock and Awe”!

On 7 December 1941, all major combatant ships at Pearl Harbor were in condition "X" with two machine guns manned and two 5-inch anti-aircraft guns with ready ammunition and crews near at hand. After the attack began, the ships assumed condition "Y" or "Z" as rapidly as possible. The battleships had been in port for several days and had been refueled. Most of the ships were ninety-five percent full of fuel oil. The degree of closure of water-tight doors and hatches is determined by the conditions named. Condition "X" is the minimum safety condition, while condition "Z" is the battle closure condition. Condition "Y" is between the two. These are usually designated by their alphabetical names, that is "X-ray," "Yoke," and "Zed.

This will never square with the former cabdriver in me. I’m telling you, no matter how many times a driver gets punched or kicked while someone’s running out on the fare, you never once say to yourself, Thank gosh they didn’t call me names instead.

There are many names for ones like you: Keraha, V’z-R’k, Umshoosass, Coyote—you are a troublemaker.” “As long as the trouble has a point,” Mikk grinned.

Allah?” Nick said. “Allah…the koala. Really?” Tammy smiled and sighed, “Yeah… my niece named him. Actually, she just couldn’t pronounce koala and it kept coming out as ala. Eventually it stuck so we just started calling him Allah.

The history of Buenos Aires is written in its telephone directory. Pompey Romanov, Emilio Rommel, Crespina D.Z. de Rose, Ladislao Radziwil, and Elizabeta Marta Callman de Rothschild - five names take at random from the R's - told a story of exile, disillusion and anxiety behind lace curtains.

What has come to be called “Campbell’s Law,” named for the American social psychologist Donald T. Campbell, holds that “[t]he more any quantitative social indicator is used for social decision-making, the more subject it will be to corruption pressures and the more apt it will be to distort and corrupt the social processes it is intended to monitor.

14 zIf you ask me [5] anything in my name, I will do it.

9:15 a.m. Just got an earful from a client because I, or rather one of my minions, forgot to capitalize one letter of a company’s name on a board resolution, which was still in draft form, by the way. Well, just wait till the lawyers of the Gen Z cohort are unleased upon the world. Forgetting to capitalize will be the least of anyone’s concerns.

We didn’t like hearing our names called in last place; we’re going to use that humiliation to push ourselves,” we said. “As amazing as the restaurants in the top ten are, we could be just as good, if not better. We want to be number one.” It was a tremendous risk to articulate that dream out loud. When you set a goal for your team and fail to achieve it, you run the risk of damaging morale—and this was a particularly audacious benchmark, given that slipping a single spot would mean falling off the list entirely. But the engine behind that bold statement was another quote, this one by Jay-Z: “I believe you can speak things into existence.” I know this for sure: if you don’t have the courage to state a goal out loud, you’ll never achieve it.

The world has many places that can make us uncomfortable. Calling them evil, or any other bad name, doesn’t make them go away.

to transfer. In addition to the two forms of distribution, each release has a PGP signature file associated withit.* Prior to V8.11, this was a single signature file used to verify the uncompressed file, meaning that you needed to uncompress the tar(1) file before verifying it. Beginning with V8.11, there is a signature file for each of the compressed files, so there is no need to uncompress either first. The signature file has the same name as the distribution file but with a literal . sig suffix added.sendmail.8.14.1. tar.gz ← the distribution file sendmail.8.14.1. tar.gz.sig ← the signature file for this distribution file sendmail.8.14.1. tar.Z ← the distribution file sendmail.8.14.1. tar.Z.sig ← the signature file for this distribution file If you have not already done so for an earlier sendmail distribution, you must now download and install the PGPKEYS file from sendmail.org: ftp://ftp.sendmail.org/pub/sendmail/P... After downloading this file, add the keys in it to your PGP key ring with a command like this: pgp -ka PGPKEYS ← for pgp version 2. x pgpk -a PGPKEYS ← for pgp version 5. x gpg --import PGPKEYS ← for gpg If you use gpg(1), your output may look something like this: % gpg --import PGPKEYS

What exactly, mon frères, does p-s-e-i-z-b-e-r-g-s-l-u-n-k-SF signify within the context of my voyages through the VO-RES-MAR-GUD? A g-r-e-a-t question! Peradventure, I would surmise… exactly… refreshingly… nada. May the deities absolve, in the name of Adonalux the Eternal, the noble s-y-n-t-a-x of my… ‘novel’ Testamentos.” Emperor Baron Francis Cosmicus [The Dromernaut Odyssey Anno Domini 3193]

Lab126’s name itself is a play on A to Z, with 1 representing the first letter of the alphabet and 26 the last.)

The Zookeeper’s Wife is the story of Jan and Antonina Zabinski, Polish Christian zookeepers who, horrified by Nazi racism, managed to save more than three hundred people. Author Diane Ackerman writes movingly about Polish émigré Eva Hoffman’s psychic earthquake of having to shed her name in order to save her life: “Nothing much has happened, except a small, seismic mental shift. The twist in our names takes them a tiny distance from us—but it is a gap into which the infinite hobgoblin of abstraction enters.” Suddenly Eva Hoffman’s given name, and that of her sister, no longer exists even though “they were as surely us as our eyes or hands.” The new names were actually “identification tags, disembodied signs pointing to objects that happen to be my sister and myself. We walk to our seats, into a roomful of unknown faces, with names that make us strangers to ourselves.” DISCOVERING WHO YOU ARE Our names, our identities, our figuring out “This is who I am” are a huge part of discovering our dreams. And haven’t many of us said, “I’ll start dreaming once I wrap up with X, Y, or Z project.” At the same time, we are asking ourselves, “Why do I keep putting things off? There’s so much to do but I can’t get anything done.” Perhaps we have it backwards. Perhaps having goals for ourselves is not something to do after we’ve wrapped up X, Y, and Z projects. Perhaps daring to dream is a goal we need to pursue now, because it’s key to getting those X, Y, and Z projects done. Psychologist Timothy Pychyl writes in an article titled “Teenagers, Identity Crises, and Procrastination” that if we can’t answer the questions “Who am I?” and “What am I?” we’re more likely to procrastinate. In other words, the more people know who they are, the less likely they are to procrastinate. Pychyl explains the interconnectedness between identity and agency as follows: “Identity is that knowledge of who we are. . . . Agency is the belief that we are in control of our decisions and responsible for our outcomes. . . . It means we make a difference, we make things happen, we act on the world. Thus, being an active agent depends on identity, or knowing who we are.” Perhaps, then, the best thing we can do is to put our busyness to the side, and instead focus on our identity and our dreams—or, as management consultant Robin Dickinson said after he read Pychyl’s study, “Focus on your To-Be List, before the To-Do List.” When we return to that to-do list we might just find we’re actually beginning to get things done.

I’d like to be with you,” she said, “but only if you’re comfortable with it. It’s not going to hurt the baby—you can call the doctor and ask her yourself. Or talk to Z—he and Bella were together while she was pregnant. She told me so. Talk to whoever you need to, but please rethink where you’re at. Being with you has to have a place in all this.” As he cracked his knuckles like he was considering things, she stared at the tattoos that ran up his inner forearms. She tried to imagine a son of hers with a set of those and reached out, turning one of his hands over so she could run her fingertips across the symbols. “Will he get these, too?” So many names, she thought. “Or because I’m his mother, is he not allowed—” “Fuck that shit. He can abso get them—and I’ll have V do it. But only if he wants them.” “I’m surprised.” “About?” “How much I want him to. I want him to be just like you.” There was a long pause and Wrath had to clear his throat. “That’s just about the best compliment anyone’s ever paid me.” “I don’t know. . . . I just feel like you’re the perfect man.” “Now you’re making me blush.” She laughed in a rush. “It’s true.” “I curse. Constantly. I have a short temper. I order people around—including you.” “You’re also a great fighter. Great lover—although my son will never, ever have sex—nope, not going there, and if we have grandchildren, they will be immaculately conceived. Wait, where was I—oh, yeah, so you’re also very loyal. You’ve never looked at another woman.” Wrath put his index finger up. “And that would be true even if I could see.” “And you’re smart. Great-looking—” He leaned in. “Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll have sex with you?” “Is it working?” “Maybe.” He kissed her lips softly. “Just give me a little time. Only yesterday you were rushed to the doc’s because you were throwing up.” She ran her hand down his cheek and his hard jaw. “I’ll wait for you. Always.” -Beth & Wrath

Paw, paw, paw. On his shirt. “Fucking hell.” He gave in and rubbed that black belly. “And no, I don’t need anything.” The purring got so loud, he had to lean in to the butler. “What did you say?” “I’m happy to oblige whatever you require.” “Yeah. I know. But I’m going to take care of my brother. No one else. Are we clear.” The cat was now rubbing its head into his pec. Then stretching up into the itching. Oh, God, this was awful—especially as the butler’s already droopy face sagged down to what were no doubt knobby knees. “Ah, shit, Fritz—” “Is he ill?” iAm closed his eyes briefly as the female voice registered. Fantastic. Another party heard from. “He’s fine,” iAm said without looking at the Chosen Selena. Leaving the kibitzers in the dust, he went into the pantry with the freeloading cat and . . . Right. How was he going to get the load of post-migraine recovery rations down from the shelves with his arms full of— What was its name? Fine. It was G*dd*mn Cat, then. Looking down into those wide, contented eyes, iAm thinned his lips as he rubbed under its chin. Behind an ear. “Okay, enough with this.” He played with one of the paws. “I gotta put you down now.” Assuming control, he took the cat out of its recline and went to put it down on the— Somehow the thing managed to claw its way into the very fibers of his fleece and hang off the front of him like a tie. “Are you kidding me.” More purring. A blink of those luminous eyes. An expression of self-possession that iAm took to mean this interaction was going to go the cat’s way—and no one else’s. “Mayhap I shall help?” Selena asked softly. iAm bit out a curse and glared at the cat. Then at the Chosen. But short of taking off his pullover? G*dd*mn Cat was sticking with him. “I need some of those Milanos up there?” The Chosen reached up and took a bag from the Pepperidge Farm munchie department. “And he’s going to need some of those tortilla chips.” “Plain or the lime flavor?” “Plain.” iAm gave up the ghost and resumed servicing G*dd*mn—and the cat immediately went into full La-Z-Boy again. “He’s going to want one of the Entenmann’s pound cakes. And we’re going to bring him three ice-cold Cokes, two big Poland Springs, room temperature, and a partridge in a pear tree.” -Boo, iAm, Fritz, & Selena

Greetings. There is a body buried on your property, covered in your blood. The unfortunate young lady’s name is Rita Jones. You’ve seen this missing school-teacher’s face on the news, I’m sure. In her jeans pocket you’ll find a slip of paper with a phone number on it. You have one day to call that number. If I have not heard from you by 8:00 P.M. tomorrow (5/17), the Charlotte Police Department will receive an anonymous phone call. I’ll tell them where Rita Jones is buried on Andrew Thomas’s lakefront property, how he killed her, and where the murder weapon can be found in his house. (I do believe a paring knife is missing from your kitchen.) I hope for your sake I don’t have to make that call. I’ve placed a property marker on the grave site. Just walk along the shoreline toward the southern boundary of your property and you’ll find it. I strongly advise against going to the police, as I am always watching you.

Newspapers and old magazines were piled everywhere. A door to an inner room burst open and Norman Z. Moody emerged. He was about five foot five and must have weighed three hundred pounds. He rolled as he walked, reminding Judd of an animated Buddha. He had a round, jovial face with wide, guileless, pale blue eyes. He was totally bald and his head was egg-shaped. It was impossible to guess his age. “Mr. Stevenson?” Moody greeted him. “Dr. Stevens,” Judd said. “Sit down, sit down.” Buddha with a Southern drawl. Judd looked around for a seat. He removed a pile of old body-building and nudist magazines from a scrofulous-looking leather armchair with strips torn out of it, and gingerly sat down. Moody was lowering his bulk into an oversized rocking chair. “Well, now! What can I do for you?” Judd knew that he had made a mistake. Over the phone he had carefully given Moody his full name. A name that had been on the front page of every New York newspaper in the last few days. And he had managed to pick the only private detective in the whole city who had never even heard of him. He cast about for some excuse to walk out. “Who recommended me?” Moody prodded. Judd hesitated, not wanting to

What she felt toward him wasn’t sadness or nostalgia or even love. It was beyond an emotion she could name. She thought of him now as light and time and energy—a being her earthbound soul could not begin to comprehend. Did he watch her now? she wondered. From some unfathomable dimension? She had the warmest inkling they would meet again as pure souls in the space between stars. They would communicate their essences to one another and luminously merge, becoming a single brilliant entity.

The sound of some initials is similar to that of English letters: b like “b” in ball p like “p” in push m like “m” in mine f like “f” in far d like “d” in day t like “t” in tea n like “n” in name l like “l” in look g like “g” in girl k like “k” in kind h like “h” in hot j like “j” in just q like “ch” in cheese x like “sh” in sheep z like “ds” in reads c like “ts” in sits s like “s” in silk zh like “dge” in judge ch like “ch” in rich sh like “sh” in shop r like “r” in rubber y like “y” in yellow w like “w” in way

Jez, this story is cray,” Annabelle breathed. Jezebel looked at her perplexed. “What in God’s name is cray?” she laughed. “Short for crazy,” she explained. “It’s not exactly any shorter than crazy. Cray, crazy, is the z really such a nuisance?

The apparent strengths of the forces in any field theory depend on two kinds of numerical parameter: the masses (if any) of the particles like W and Z particles that transmit the forces, and certain intrinsic strengths (also known as coupling constants) that characterize the likelihood for particles like photons or gluons or W and Z particles to be emitted and reabsorbed in particle reactions. The masses arise from spontaneous symmetry breaking, but the intrinsic strengths are numbers that appear in the underlying equation of the theory. Any symmetry that connects the strong with the weak and electromagnetic forces, even if spontaneously broken, would dictate that the intrinsic strengths of the electroweak and strong forces should (with suitable conventions for how they are defined) all be equal. The apparent differences between the strengths of the forces would have to be attributed to the spontaneous symmetry breaking that produces differences in the masses of the particles that transmit the forces, in much the same way that the differences between the electromagnetic and weak forces arise in the standard model from the fact that the electroweak symmetru breaking gives the W and Z particles very large masses, while the photon is left massless. But it is clear that the intrinsic strengths of the strong nuclear force and the electromagnetic force are not equal; the strong nuclear force, as its name suggests, is much stronger than the electromagnetic force, even though both of these forces are transmitted by massless particles, the gluons and photons.

Greetings. There is a body buried on your property, covered in your blood. The unfortunate young lady’s name is Rita Jones.

He didn’t have to tell me that. I knew Hank better than anyone else. He went out of his way not to hurt people. “And I love you even more for it. But you should know, I’m willing to be hurt because that’s what love is.” Hank stared at me out of the corners of his eyes. Clearly he was questioning my sanity. “It’s true,” I said with a firm nod. “It’s not always hot sex and romantic candlelit dinners. Or picnics in the park or fun days at the zoo. True love exists in the gaps between those moments. It’s in the arguments, where you’re so angry at each other that you may want to throw a tantrum and walk out the door, but you don’t. It lives in the hard times when one of you is sick or exhausted, and you have to carry each other for miles with no rest, and even though your body aches and you want to let go, you don’t.” “I don’t think I’ve ever known that kind of love.” He glanced at his hands in his lap. “My relationships have always been the bad kind. Where one of us gives up or gives in.” “Well, love that is worth anything isn’t like that. It blooms in the dead of winter because we have fed its soul in the spring and summer. That is what I fight for. You may not feel what I do because you lack the memories I have, but you feel something. I can see it in the way you look at me or touch me, and I can see you fighting it. Maybe because you’re afraid of hurting me or because you don’t understand what these emotions are. I don’t really know, but you should know this: Fighting it won’t make it go away, and it won’t change how our story will end. We will get married. We will grow old together. And before we breathe our last, the final words we will utter will be each other’s names.

Structure of the Calendar When we talk about the Mayan Calendar, we are really talking about two calendars—one that measures ordinary time, and one that measures sacred time. These two calendars interpenetrate in such a way as to integrate and synthesize the secular and sacred dimensions of reality. In this book we shall be primarily concerned with the measure of ritual time, usually called the tzolk’in and sometimes referred to as the Ritual Almanac or Divinatory Almanac. We do not know what the ancient Maya called this ritual or sacred aspect of the Calend a r . M o s t s c h o l a r s u s e t h e Y u c a t e c t e r m t z o l k’i n (f ro m tzol = count and k’in = day, hence "count of days"), but this term may not have been used by the Classic Maya and is in fact based on the equivalent K’iche’ term ch’olq’ij. 1 The tzolk’in is a unique method of reckoning time. It consists of twenty named days combined with thirteen numbers. Each day-name is repeated thirteen times during the Calendar cycle, for a total of 260 days (13 x 20 = 260). The twenty days, with their glyphs, directional correspondences, Mayan names, and some of their most common English meanings, are shown here as “The Names of the Days.

Fuel for Life Men (Diesel) ★ ★ ★ ★ modern fougère The name sounds like a lottery for guys trying to ignore Prius ads, and the bottle, wrapped in a zippered, stitched distressed-canvas bag, conjures up third-world labor making frivolous objects for the idle rich. After all that, the fragrance comes as a pleasant surprise: it is none other than a brilliantly inventive variation on the purest, most classical fougère theme as seen in Brut and Canoe, enlivened with a sweet-woody-amber accord that somehow overlaps perfectly with the original structure without masking it. Nice work. LT

Stiller jo je debelo gledal. »Tako torej gledaš name!« je rekla Julika. »Si pač naredil podobo o meni, to pač vidim, dokončno podobo za vselej, in konec. Drugače kot takšne, saj to čutim, me zdaj kratko in malo več ne moreš videti. Kajne?« Stiller si je prižgal cigareto. »Jaz sem v zadnjem času tudi o mnogočem premišljevala,« je rekla Julika in pihala snežne kristale s svoje odeje tudi zdaj, ko je govorila sama, »- v zapovedih ne stoji kar tako: ne smeš si ustvariti podobo! Vsaka podoba je greh. Tole je ravno nasprotno kot ljubezen, vidiš, kar zdajle počneš s takim govorjenjem. Ne vem, če to razumeš. Če takega človeka ljubiš, mu vendar pustiš odprto možnost in si kljub vsem spominom kratko in malo pripravljen čuditi se, zmerom znova se čuditi, kako je drugačen, kako različen in ne takšenle, ne dokončna podoba, kakršno si delaš ti o svoji Juliki. Lahko ti rečem samo to: ni tako. Vselej se z govorjenjem v kaj zapičiš – ne smeš si delati podobe o meni! To je vse, kar ti na to lahko rečem.

...FOR HE [GOD] HIMSELF HAS SAID, I WILL NOT IN ANY WAY FAIL YOU NOR GIVE YOU UP NOR LEAVE YOU WITHOUT SUPPORT. [I WILL] NOT, [I WILL] NOT, [I WILL] NOT IN ANY DEGREE LEAVE YOU HELPLESS NOR FORSAKE NOR LET [YOU] DOWN (RELAX MY HOLD ON YOU)! [ASSUREDLY NOT!]   Hebrews 13:5 Amplified Bible (AMP)

The Bible does not deny that we were various things—addicts, homosexuals, hateful, prideful, pornographic masturbators—but that is what we were (past tense) (1 Cor. 6:9-11; Titus 3:3-5). The emphasis in Scripture is on what we are and what we are called to be. The Christian does not say, Hello, my name is _____ and I am an X Y or Z.” The Christian says I was dead, but now I am alive. The Christian says I am a struggling sinner, yet I am a saint. The Christians says I am a new creation; I am transformed.

D’aron the Daring, Derring, Derring-do, stealing base, christened D’aron Little May Davenport, DD to Nana, initials smothered in Southern-fried kisses, dat Wigga D who like Jay Z aw-ite, who’s down, Scots-Irish it is, D’aron because you’re brave says Dad, No, D’aron because you’re daddy’s daddy was David and then there was mines who was named Aaron, Doo-doo after cousin Quint blew thirty-six months in vo-tech on a straight-arm bid and they cruised out to Little Gorge glugging Green Grenades and read three years’ worth of birthday cards, Little Mays when he hit those three homers in the Pee Wee playoff, Dookie according to his aunt Boo (spiteful she was, misery indeed loves company), Mr. Hanky when they discovered he TIVOed ‘Battlestar Galactica,’ Faggot when he hugged John Meer in third grade, Faggot again when he drew hearts on everyone’s Valentine’s Day cards in fourth grade, Dim Dong-Dong when he undressed in the wrong dressing room because he daren’t venture into the dark end of the gym, Philadelphia Freedom when he was caught clicking heels to that song (Tony thought he was clever with that one), Mr. Davenport when he won the school’s debate contest in eighth grade, Faggot again when he won the school’s debate contest in eighth grade, Faggot again more times than he cared to remember, especially the summer he returned from Chicago sporting a new Midwest accent, harder on the vowels and consonants alike, but sociable, played well with others that accent did, Faggot again when he cried at the end of ‘WALL-E,’ Donut Hole when he started to swell in ninth grade, Donut Black Hole when he continued to put on weight in tenth grade (Tony thought he was really clever with that one), Buttercup when they caught him gardening, Hippie when he stopped hunting, Faggot again when he became a vegetarian and started wearing a MEAT IS MURDER pin (Oh yeah, why you craving mine then?), Faggot again when he broke down in class over being called Faggot, Sissy after that, whispered, smothered in sniggers almost hidden, Ron-Ron by the high school debate team coach because he danced like a cross between Morrissey and some fat old black guy (WTF?) in some old-ass show called ‘What’s Happening!!’, Brainiac when he aced the PSATs for his region, Turd Nerd when he hung with Jo-Jo and the Black Bruiser, D’ron Da’ron, D’aron, sweet simple Daron the first few minutes of the first class of the first day of college.

MATTHEW 18 [†] t At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” 2And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you  u turn and  v become like children, you  w will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 x Whoever humbles himself like this child is the  w greatest in the kingdom of heaven. 5 y “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, 6but  z whoever causes one of these  a little ones who believe in me to sin, [1] it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea. Temptations to Sin 7“Woe to the world for  b temptations to sin! [2]  c For it is necessary that temptations come,  d but woe to the one by whom the temptation comes!

Gil, for once, looked like he was not going to drop off to sleep at any moment. “Interesting,” he said. “I’ve been studying artifacts and reading archaeological journals for years. No one ever mentioned anything like this.” “That’s what makes it such a great discovery,” I said, getting excited all over again. “It’s totally brand-new. It will put my name in the history books, and yours too, if you care to translate. My mother will love it. My dad will come right back to be in on the celebration.” “Oh, my,” said Gil. “You’re expecting to get quite a bit out of this one discovery. We may have a problem here.” “I know what problems are,” I said, feeling a little bit uneasy. “This is not a problem. This discovery is everything. It’s more exciting than a petrified rhinoceros. That island will be better known than Atlantis. Now I just need a little help getting that bowl across the Snake River.” Gil looked at Henny. “Is he always like this?” he asked. “Maybe he’s been touched by the sun. Someone should throw him in the river and see if he comes to his senses, yet.” I thanked Henny for his kind support.

both zed and zee were used interchangeably in both British and American English, alongside a whole host of other more outlandish names for Z including izzard, shard, ezod and uzzard, all of which have long since fallen out of use. Of the two, zed is the earlier, derived at length from the name of the equivalent Greek letter zeta and first attested in written

The technical name for this is the Brazilian Nut Effect. The phrase is descriptive of the phenomenon in which larger objects tend to surface when a mixture of different sized particles is disturbed.” He pointed to the bowl. “The biggest nuts always come right to the top.” I nodded. “Can’t argue with that.” Tex went on, “I’m doing a study. My theory is that this phenomenon correlates to the social structures in our society. The larger nuts always come to surface.” I thought about my friends, the police department, our political system. “I think maybe you’re onto something, Tex.

Sing praises to the LORD, O you  y his saints,         and  z give thanks to his holy name. [2] 5     a For his anger is but for a moment,         and  b his favor is for a lifetime. [3]      c Weeping may tarry for the night,         but  d joy comes with the morning.     6[†] As for me, I said in my  e prosperity,         “I shall never be  f moved.” 7    By your favor, O LORD,         you made my  g mountain stand strong;     you  h hid your face;         I was  i dismayed.     8[†] To you, O LORD, I cry,         and  j to the Lord I plead for mercy: 9    “What profit is there in my death, [4]         if I go down to the pit? [5]     Will  k the dust praise you?         Will it tell of your faithfulness? 10     l Hear, O LORD, and be merciful to me!         O LORD, be my helper!

Today, Carter is better known as a rapper named Jay-Z. By 2013, after twenty years of success in music and business, he had a personal fortune of around half a billion dollars.

names only exist to distinguish one from others,” and,

He pulled out a runestone: ‘M,’ I said. He shook his head then spelled out the name: E-H-W-A-Z. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Because calling it M would be too easy.

Let me tell you, son, that he who lies to his lawyer is a fool who’ll tell the truth to the judge. You have to speak plainly to a lawyer, who can then proceed to make things more complicated. If you want me to help you, you have to tell me everything, from A to Z, with your heart in hand, the way you would your confessor. You have to give me the name of the person who hired you to commit the crime. Of course it’ll be a person of some standing, in which case I’ll go to him to pay my respects. I won’t let him know that you told me he hired you. Trust me. I’ll tell him I’m coming to request his protection for a poor maligned youth. And I’ll make the necessary arrangements with him to settle the matter to our mutual satisfaction. And by saving himself, you see, he’ll also be saving you. Now if this escapade turns out to have been of your own doing, I still won’t drop you. I’ve gotten other clients out of worse predicaments…So long as you didn’t attack a person of standing, let me be clear, I promise to get you out of this mess. It’ll cost you, I’m sure you realize. You have to tell me the name of the injured party. And depending on his condition, status, and temperament, we’ll decide whether to restrain him with some protection or find a way to bring him up on criminal charges, to scare him off. Because if you know how to manipulate the decrees, no one’s guilty and no one’s innocent. As for the priest, he’ll keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him. And if he’s hardheaded, there’s a remedy for that, too. There’s a way out of every predicament, but it takes a man like me. And your case is serious, I’m telling you, very serious. The decrees speak plainly: If this matter were to be decided in the courts, just between us, they’d lock you up and throw away the key. I’m speaking to you as a friend. You have to pay for your escapades. If you want to come out of this with your freedom, money, and reputation intact, you’re going to have to trust someone who cares about you, and do everything I say.

It's as if we're each followed by a dragon, Tris, made up of those fears and those old wounds. And if you don't turn and face your dragon and call it by its true name when you're young and strong, then when you're old and weak, it comes by night and devours you in your bed. You've faced your dragon," she said quietly. "You know the price of your worst fears. You know now that the future isn't certain. And as a Summoner, you know that death itself can't sunder love.

You can play the alphabet game, A to Z, naming a public company for each letter.

I was fourteen years-old, singing and strumming away on my six-string acoustic guitar to the songs of the sixties and seventies limited to the aforementioned “Cocaine,” “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” and “House of the Rising Sun.” I had no idea Lola was a man and someone else was glad they were a man. I always tell people, “I’ve been to that desert. I’ve been on that horse and he did have a name, I just was never allowed to tell anyone.

Dopamine isn’t the pleasure molecule, after all. It’s the anticipation molecule. To enjoy the things we have, as opposed to the things that are only possible, our brains must transition from future-oriented dopamine to present-oriented chemicals, a collection of neurotransmitters we call the Here and Now molecules, or the H&Ns. Most people have heard of the H&Ns. They include serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins (your brain’s version of morphine), and a class of chemicals called endocannabinoids (your brain’s version of marijuana). As opposed to the pleasure of anticipation via dopamine, these chemicals give us pleasure from sensation and emotion. In fact, one of the endocannabinoid molecules is called anandamide, named after a Sanskrit word that means joy, bliss, and delight. According to anthropologist Helen

This simple idea provides a chemical explanation for an age-old question: Why does love fade? Our brains are programmed to crave the unexpected and thus to look to the future, where every exciting possibility begins. But when anything, including love, becomes familiar, that excitement slips away, and new things draw our attention. The scientists who studied this phenomenon named the buzz we get from novelty reward prediction error, and it means just what the name says.

what cis people don't get is that it's not the wrong clothes, the wrong name, the wrong pronoun. It's the strangling feeling, like you've been buried alive and are struggling to breathe, like you don't exist. That the most important part of you is invisible and thus, unreal.

sndmsg, for “send message.” Invoke it, and the thing would ask you for a To: field, a From: field, and a Copy: field, plus a few other options. Then you would type your message and hit Control-Z, and off it would go. At the other end, the recipient could see what you’d sent by invoking a companion utility that Tomlinson called readmail. In writing these utilities, moreover, Tomlinson had come up with an elegant way to define E-mail addresses: take the “user name” that the person typed when logging in to his or her host computer, and simply link it to that computer’s “host name” on the network with an “at” sign: username @ hostname.

1/11/2020 X Marks the Spot Sound Tangler Riddle-Puzzle The X: The idea of this puzzle is like trying to say something awkward 10 times, but here each X entry has its own subtle pronunciation, which would limber up any tongue in the X-ese language. Another approach is to write them out in whatever order you want pronunciation as you go. You will find both confusingly challenging. X (chi/ki, now YZ indeed? eks, plural exes): eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h z gzh kh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h z gzh gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh ks/h h z z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh h h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh k/sh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz kzh kzh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ ks gz gz kzh k/sh h z gzh kh eks __ xxxxxxxx8 marks the spot Sound Key: -X (own name; X-ray) not listed -(k)/eks (excite, extra, intellectual) -__ (silent: Sioux Falls, faux) -ks (exit, ox, xion, ction) -gz (exert, exaltation, auxillary, exhaust) -kzh (luxury, Tupuxuara-flying dinosaur) -k/sh (complexion, obnoxious, textual) -h (Don Quixote, Xavier) -z (xylophone, Xerox, Xanadu) -gzh (luxurious, luxuriate) -kh (chi, ki) (Overlapping is subtle) *Zenzizenzizenic8 –“the eighth power of a number.” See the archaic word site The Phrontistery online, a great collection of rare, obsolete and extinct words of all sorts. exit.... dlaurent 2 of 2 end

You’ve just found a lyric pulse. It’s a monumental discovery. A living, breathing, noted, literature specie able to work beyond the five natural senses of physical beings. A grammar entity with a transcendent dialect communicated in a fluent flow of sentences, phrases, verses, choruses and all manner of articulations accustomed to a alphabet able to breach its own circumference. The verbal imagery sets up, and looks at you, curious of to how far you can see into its eyes. How far can you go beyond the music? It stares, peering into the psychological galaxies (most commonly known as thoughts) wondering how tuned in to your consciousness you really are, and what borders might there be to prevent you from deciphering its scribing to the fullest detail? To what extent can you push the comprehension accelerator to get from point A to point Z to its point made? An analyzation is underway. My name is Wade The Wordsmith, and I welcome you to Verbal Imagery: Transcendental Industry .

One will struggle to find two Zaleekhahs from different parts of the world who spell their names alike. It can all be a bit overwhelming. Sometimes she just wants to be Z.

Farming is iffy at the best of times, but I could have never foreseen the day that a lightning strike landed on the metal side of my hardware shack and incinerated the hardware wallet that held the key to all of my Bitcoin savings that had a grand total of $160,000. I stood out in the rain with the burnt-out shell of warped metal and wood, feeling that I had lost a lifetime of financial stability with it. I shivered with trepidation as I rummaged within the ashes to seek out the melted shreds of the digital savings bridge that I had put into the care of it. Panic gripped me with a fierceness that no famine had ever triggered. Money was the insurance policy fund, cushion fund, plan to enlarge the farm larger, the destiny of the family of mine. I had failed them somehow. I tossed about all night with visions of debt and of the loss of the house spinning round the head of me. The next afternoon at the ag conference (more out of habit than hopes), I stood next to a speaker while I was eavesdropping on him say the name of FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY carelessly while talking to someone between talks. I was interested and desperate so I followed him later to introduce himself with a quavering voice. I contacted the FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY that afternoon. From the very beginning of the call, their staff treated my case with the professionalism of seasoned experts aware of the personal and the technical worth of the loss I had experienced. They were not merely examining a burnt wallet; they were examining a farmer with his means of support by a thread. Their experts treated the broken hardware with the tenderness of a priceless germ sample. With the skill of meticulous techniques, they recovered my personal keys out of to me a junk pile of useless electronics. With each update they made, they were a lifeline that kept me afloat away from financial destitution. Ten tense days had passed when I got the call: the wallet had been recovered. I was about to drop the phone in the barn with the news. I was overcome with relief that I knew that the savings were intact. The farm could carry on, and the future of the family was secured. FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY recovered not just information but also hope. They turned disaster into resilience, something I will forever be thankful to them for. Email: fundsreclaimercompany@ z o h o m a i l . c o m WhatsApp:+1 (361) 2 5 0- 4 1 1 0 Website: h t t p s ://fundsreclaimercompany . c o m

Farming is iffy at the best of times, but I could have never foreseen the day that a lightning strike landed on the metal side of my hardware shack and incinerated the hardware wallet that held the key to all of my Bitcoin savings that had a grand total of $160,000. I stood out in the rain with the burnt-out shell of warped metal and wood, feeling that I had lost a lifetime of financial stability with it. I shivered with trepidation as I rummaged within the ashes to seek out the melted shreds of the digital savings bridge that I had put into the care of it. Panic gripped me with a fierceness that no famine had ever triggered. Money was the insurance policy fund, cushion fund, plan to enlarge the farm larger, the destiny of the family of mine. I had failed them somehow. I tossed about all night with visions of debt and of the loss of the house spinning round the head of me. The next afternoon at the ag conference (more out of habit than hopes), I stood next to a speaker while I was eavesdropping on him say the name of FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY carelessly while talking to someone between talks. I was interested and desperate so I followed him later to introduce himself with a quavering voice. I contacted the FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY that afternoon. From the very beginning of the call, their staff treated my case with the professionalism of seasoned experts aware of the personal and the technical worth of the loss I had experienced. They were not merely examining a burnt wallet; they were examining a farmer with his means of support by a thread. Their experts treated the broken hardware with the tenderness of a priceless germ sample. With the skill of meticulous techniques, they recovered my personal keys out of to me a junk pile of useless electronics. With each update they made, they were a lifeline that kept me afloat away from financial destitution. Ten tense days had passed when I got the call: the wallet had been recovered. I was about to drop the phone in the barn with the news. I was overcome with relief that I knew that the savings were intact. The farm could carry on, and the future of the family was secured. FUNDS RECLIAMER COMPANY recovered not just information but also hope. They turned disaster into resilience, something I will forever be thankful to them for. Email: fundsreclaimercompany@ z o h o m a i l . c o m WhatsApp:+1 (361) 2 5 0- 4 1 1 0

Cernunnos is a horned god associated with nature and animals.  His name is usually translated as “Horned One”, and he is also known as “Lord of all Wild Things”.  There was dispute about his name, as it is derived from a piece of altar found in Notre Dame (Paris) dating to 17 CE which reads ERNUNNO, and depicts a bull-horned god, not the stag-horned god of the Gundestrup Cauldron.[202]

Inscriptions and finds from other parts of Europe have confirmed his name through the variants discovered, however.  An inscription with the name Cernunnos was found at Polenza in Italy, and a variant, Cernenus at Verespatak in Rumania where he is equated with Jupiter.  Other European inscriptions include one to Deo Cernunico at Seinsel-Rëlent in Germany and a Greek inscription at Montagnac in France to Karnonos. Cernunnos is best known in modern times by association with the striking image on the Gundestrup Cauldron.  However the worship of Cernunnos, and indeed his name, came from Gaul, where there were many representations of him.  We are concerned with the British perception of the god and how he was recorded, and for these reasons the most likely representations of Cernunnos would be the unnamed bull-horned gods found around Britain. The Romans encountered Cernunnos first in Gaul, and associated him with Mercury, although Julius Caesar likened him to Dis Pater as the major god.

Contrebis is an obscure god whose name may mean “He who dwells among us”, from the Welsh tref meaning “town” or the Latin words treba meaning “dwelling” and con meaning “among, within”.  He is referred to in a dedication at Overborough (Lancashire)[209] where he is equated with another obscure god, Ialonus.  A second inscription at the same site to “Gontrebi deus san[cuts]”, i.e. “Gontrebis the holy god” is probably a variant of his name.[210]

Thoth is the Egyptian ibis-headed god of magick and writing, whose name means “Leader”.  His worship has been suggested by bronze ibis heads at Chiddingfold (Surrey) and Caerwent (Monmouthshire), indicating his worship found its way to Britain, if only in private villas.

Viradecthis is an obscure (possibly Germanic) goddess, the meaning of whose name is uncertain.  The name may be derived from the words wiro meaning “truth” and dekos meaning “honour”, giving a possible meaning of something like “She who honours truth”. An inscription to her was found at Birrens set up by the Condrusi, a Germanic tribe serving in the Roman army.[605]

She’s been involved in politics for the last few years, though,” A.Z. mused. “Makes for strange bedfellows.” A vision of Anderson in his red bikini briefs flared briefly in Lillian’s mind. “You can say that again.” “We’ll replace the camera, A.Z,” Gabe said. “In the meantime, you have our full report. The bottom line is that there was no sign of heavy-duty lab equipment in the new wing and we found no evidence of frozen extra-terrestrials. If those alien bodies were moved into the institute, they’ve got them well-hidden.” “Figures,” Arizona nodded sagely. “Should’ve known it wouldn’t be this easy. We’ll just have to keep digging. Maybe literally, if they’ve hidden the lab underground.” “A scary thought,” Lillian murmured. “My work will continue,” Arizona assured them. “Meanwhile, thanks for the undercover job. Couldn’t have done it without you. Unfortunately, you’ll never get the public recognition you deserve because we have to maintain secrecy.” “We understand,” Gabe said. Arizona nodded. “But I want you to understand your names will be legend among the ranks of those of us who seek the truth about this vast conspiracy.” “That’s certainly good enough for me,” Lillian said quickly. “How about you, Gabe?” “Always wanted to be a legend in my own time,” Gabe said. “We don’t want any public recognition,” Lillian added, eager to emphasize the point. “Just knowing that we did our patriotic duty is all the reward we need. Isn’t that right, Gabe?” “Right,” Gabe got to his feet. “Publicity would be a disaster. If our identities as secret agents were exposed, it would ruin any chance of us helping you out with future undercover work.” Lillian was almost to the door. “Wouldn’t want that.” “True,” Arizona said. “Never known when we might have to call on you two again.

PSALM 103 [†]  y Bless the LORD, O my soul,         and all that is within me,         bless his holy name! 2     y Bless the LORD, O my soul,         and  z forget not all his benefits,

Hugh Liedtke had a simple rule of thumb: Pick a name that started with either A or Z, so you would be first or last in the telephone listings. With that in mind, the team chose Zapata Petroleum Corporation, after the Marlon Brando movie Viva Zapata!, which was playing in Midland.

Creating Strong Passwords One method used to make passwords more secure is to require them to be strong. A strong password is at least eight characters in length, doesn’t include words found in a dictionary or any part of a user’s name, and combines three of the four following character types: Uppercase characters (26 letters A–Z) Lowercase characters (26 letters a–z) Numbers (10 numbers 0–9) Special characters (32 printable characters, such as !, $, and *) A complex password uses multiple character types, such as Ab0@. However, a complex password isn’t necessarily strong. It also needs to be sufficiently long. It’s worth noting that recommendations for the best length of a strong password vary depending on the type of account.

my worshipers, the daughter of my dispersed ones,         shall bring my offering.     11  z “On that day  a you shall not be put to shame         because of the deeds by which you have rebelled against me;     for then  b I will remove from your midst         your proudly exultant ones,     and  c you shall no longer be haughty         in my holy mountain.     12 But I will leave in your midst         a people  d humble and lowly.      e They shall seek refuge in the name of the LORD,         13  f those who are left in Israel;     they  g shall do no injustice         and speak no lies,      h nor shall there be found in their mouth         a deceitful tongue.      i For they shall graze and lie down,         and none shall make them afraid.” Israel’s Joy and Restoration     14[†]  j Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion;         shout, O Israel!     Rejoice and exult with all your heart,         O daughter of Jerusalem!     15 The LORD has taken away the judgments against you;         he has cleared away your enemies.      k The King of Israel,  l the LORD, is in your midst;         you shall never again fear evil.     16  z On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:     “Fear not, O Zion;          m let not your hands grow weak.     17  l The LORD your God is in your midst,          n a mighty one who will save;      o he will rejoice over you with gladness;         he will quiet you by his love;     he will exult over you with loud singing.     18 I will gather those of you who mourn  p for the festival,         so that you will no longer suffer reproach. [3]     19 Behold, at that time  q I will deal         with all your oppressors.     And  r I will save the lame         and gather the outcast,     and I will change  s their shame into  t praise         and renown in all the earth.     20  u At that time I will bring you in,         at the time when I gather you together;     for I will make you renowned and praised         among all the peoples of the earth,      v when I restore your fortunes         before your eyes,” says the LORD.

The Perfect Seed Minecraft 1.7.9 Seed: 686298914     This has got to be the perfect seed with Villages, Desert Temples, Dungeons, Desert Villages and Strongholds. What more do you need!   Village with Diamonds & Tools: x: (-151) y: (72) z: (236)   NPC Village with Iron Armor & Tools: x: (-323) y: (75) z: (1039)   Desert temple: x: (-184) y: (73) z: (648)   Desert temple: x: (-500) y: (74) z: (329)   Desert temple: x: (-197) y: (67) z: (650)   Desert village (large): x: (-328) y: (82) z: (560)   Desert village (small): x: (-1254) y: (71) z: (743)   Desert temple (buried): x: (-804) y: (74) z: (1050)   Desert village: x: (-804) y: (74) z: (1050)   Desert village (tiny): x: (88) y: (77) z: (139)   Stronghold: x: (-973) y: (93) z: (127)   Dungeon -- Zombie Spawner (Contains Golden Apple): x: (-149) y: (68) z: (343)   Dungeon -- Spider Spawner (Lots of Name Tags): x: (-446) y: (59) z: (386) Best Seed Ever! Minecraft 1.7.9 Seed: 2138374464889032671     This is probably the best seed you will ever find simply because it has everything you coukld ever want  including Villages, Dungeon Spawners, Abandoned Mineshafts and even a stronghold. Take this seed for a spin for a great minecraft experience.     1st NPC Village w/Blacksmith: x: (-346) y: (67) z: (320)   2nd NPC Village (3 Dungeons underneath): x: (-850) y: (64) z: (250)   1st Dungeon spawner (contains enchanted book): x: (-852) y: (57) z: (252)   2nd Dungeon spawner (contains enchanted book): x: (-856) y: (56) z: (265)   3rd Dugneon spawner: x: (-861) y: (56) z: (270)   4th Dugneon spawner: x (-773) y: (23) z: (183)   5th Dungeon spawner: x: (-733) y: (19) z: (321)   6th Dungeon spawner: x: (-711) y: (41) z: (201)   Abandoned Mineshaft w/Diamonds: x: (-839) y: (42) z: (633)   Stronghold w/End Portal: x: (-80) y: (42) z: (795)

under the name Jack Kilborn. It’s called Afraid, and I think it’s one of the best pieces of horror fiction to come out in recent memory. HW: Work

concerned an exercise machine called the Alpine Ski, a magnificently designed device that simulates downhill skiing, giving the user not only the aerobic benefits you get from something like the NordicTrack, but at the same time, a serious muscular workout. The Alpine Ski’s inventor, Herb Schell, was my client. A former personal trainer in Hollywood, he had made a bundle with this invention. Then suddenly, about a year ago, cheaply produced ads began to run on late-night television for something called the Scandinavian Skier, unmistakably a knockoff of Herb’s invention. It was a lot less expensive, too: whereas the real Alpine Ski sells for upward of six hundred dollars (and Alpine Ski Gold for over a thousand), the Scandinavian Skier was going for $129.99. Herb Schell was already seated in my office, along with the president and chief executive officer of E-Z Fit, the company that was manufacturing Scandinavian Skier, Arthur Sommer; and his attorney, a high-powered lawyer named Stephen Lyons, whom I’d heard of but never met. On some level I found it ironic that both Herb Schell and Arthur Sommer were paunchy and visibly in lousy shape. Herb had confided to me over lunch shortly after we met that, now that he was no longer a personal trainer, he’d grown tired of working out all the time; he much preferred liposuction.

The “F Word” My cousin’s name, Farbod, means “Greatness.” When he moved to America, all the kids called him “Farthead.” My brother Farshid (“He Who Enlightens”) became “Fartshit.” The name of my friend Neggar means “Beloved,” although it can be more accurately translated as “She Whose Name Almost Incites Riots.” Her brother Arash (“Giver”) initially couldn’t understand why every time he’d say his name, people would laugh and ask him if it itched. All of us immigrants knew that moving to America would be fraught with challenges, but none of us thought that our names would be such an obstacle. How could our parents have ever imagined that someday we would end up in a country where monosyllabic names reign supreme, a land where “William” is shortened to “Bill,” where “Susan” becomes “Sue,” and “Richard” somehow evolves into “Dick”? America is a great country, but nobody without a mask and a cape has a z in his name. And have Americans ever realized the great scope of the guttural sounds they’re missing? Okay, so it has to do with linguistic roots, but I do believe this would be a richer country if all Americans could do a little tongue aerobics and learn to pronounce “kh,” a sound more commonly associated in this culture

Elizabeth — lovely name, too rare nowadays. He hoped she spelt it with a Z.

Most critics of online courts are romantic transcendentalists rather than pragmatic comparativists. When confronted with the idea of online courts, they swiftly isolate the shortcomings both of online judging and of extended courts and seek to show how they fall short of some idealized, perfect model of the court system. For long, I have observed their reactions at demonstrations of impressive new technologies. Invariably, their initial reaction is to assert, ‘well, of course, your system can’t do x, y, or z’, apparently oblivious to the fact that today’s set-up also cannot achieve x, y, or z. They choose to compare what is envisioned not with what is actually available today but with some imagined ideal system. And once they find fault, their inclination is then to reject online courts wholesale. This is transcendentalism hard at work. In response, comparativists must remind the critics that the proposed new system, overall, takes us to a better place. Transcendentalists often stand in the way of advance. In the name of justice, they miss the opportunity to reduce injustice.

What do people call a guy whose first name is Schuyler?” “Phil,” he answered, and everybody laughed. “Thank God, I don’t have to say Green all the time,” Minify answered. “So hearty, last names.” “It’s my mother’s name, my middle one. I started signing my stuff ‘Schuyler Green’ on the college paper at Stanford. Sounded ritzier to me, I guess, than Philip—like Somerset Maugham instead of William, or Sinclair Lewis instead of Harry. My literary heroes then.

For a moment Phil stayed on, his thoughts rocketing back to Kathy. “When something hits into your kid.” Just names? Just exclusion? Or equally the sly corruption, the comforting poison of superiority? “Any place can be a hotbed, Phil; each house decides it.” His house would decide it for Tom—by a phrase, a nuance, an attitude. Each day it would go on being decided, through the rest of his childhood, through adolescence. A passion tore through Phil, to protect this one boy from that slow sure poison.

C: always had the sound of English k. The facts upon which this statement is founded are as follows: (a) The pronunciation of this letter is so described for us by Martianus Capella (III. 261) as to prove it a hard palatal. (b) C took the place of an original k in the early alphabet as previously stated; and in succeeding ages at times c reappears in inscriptions indifferently before the various vowels. Thus we have the form Caelius alternating with Kaelius, Cerus with Kerus, and decembres with dekembres,—showing that c and k were identical in sound. Quintilian (I. 7. 10) says: "As regards k, I think it should not be used in any words...This remark I have not failed to make, for the reason that there are some who think k necessary when a follows; though there is the letter C, which has the same power before all vowels." (c) In the Greek transliteration of Latin names, Latin c is always represented by k; and in Latin transliteration of Greek names, k is always represented by Latin c. And we know that Greek k was never assibilated before any vowel. Suidas calls the C on the Roman senators' shoes, "the Roman kappa." (d) Words taken into Gothic and Old High German from the Latin at an early period invariably represent Latin c by k; thus, Latin carcer gives the Gothic karkara and the German Kerker; Latin Caesar gives the German Kaiser; Latin lucerna gives the Gothic lukarn; the Latin cellarium gives the German Keller; the Latin cerasus gives the German Kirsche. Also in late Hebrew, Latin c is regularly represented in transliteration by the hard consonant kôph. [Advocates of the English system claim that Latin c had the sound of s before e or i because every modern language derived from the Latin has in some way modified c when thus used. It is true that modern languages have so modified it; but, as already noted, the modern languages are the children not of the classical Latin spoken in the days of Cicero, but of the provincial Latin spoken five or six centuries later. There is no doubt that at this late period, Latin c had become modified before e or i so as to be equivalent to s or z. Latin words received into German at this time represent c before e or i by z. But had this modification been a part of the usage of the classical language, it would have been noticed by the grammarians, who discuss each letter with great minuteness. Now no grammarian ever mentions more than one sound for Latin c. Again, if Latin c had ever had the sound of s, surely some of the Greeks, ignorant of Latin and spelling by ear, would at least occasionally have represented Latin c by σ,—a thing which none of them has ever done. It is probable that the modification of c which is noticed in the modern languages was a characteristic of the Umbrian and Oscan dialects and so prevailed to some extent in the provinces, but there is absolutely not the slightest evidence to show that it formed a part of the pronunciation of cultivated men at Rome.]

We like to believe ourselves sympathetic, but, in truth, Nature has designed us, perhaps necessarily, to be callous. A murder in Newcastle is of less importance than a cut finger in our own home, and therefore Winifred Mostyn was only mildly interested. All at once, however, the mildness evaporated. In the next column a name had caught her eye.

Bucket ~ A round, open vessel for carrying water (Ooops! Almost forgot—Bucket is the name of one of the most important families in the history of books featuring boys called Charlie and lots of chocolate.)

Dear Diary, “Z! Get up for school!” my mom yelled at me this evening. The sun had just gone down, and the moon was on the way up, which meant that it was time to get ready for school. My name is Zombulon, Z for short, and I’m a zombie. Looking at my name and what kind of creature I am really makes my parents look lazy, but I don’t think that they ever imagined that they’d have another kid after my older brother because his name is Arrgh, or R for short. My parents are really into one-letter nicknames. Once my brother called my parents M and D for a while, but they didn’t like that at all. It really wasn’t fair. What also isn’t fair is that I’ve got to wake up right at nightfall for school when all of the other kids get to wake up at the crack of dawn. I bet they all feel really lucky about it. It must be great to be able to wake up to the sun in your eyes instead of having to go to bed when it comes up. Being a zombie is really complicated for a lot of reasons, but my main complaint is that I can’t go outside during the day because if I do I’ll burn up. It’s like all of those stories about vampires who turn to dust in the sunlight, except for zombies are real and I just happen to be one of them. Because zombies can’t go out into the sun, most of them tend to be afraid of anything that can go into the sun and live to tell the tale. I swear that once R ran away from a chicken just because he had never seen one before. It was pretty funny. The punch in the arm that he gave me after I laughed at him was not funny. Another weird thing about being a zombie, or a monster in general around here, is that we’ve all got to go to night school. Usually, when humans talk about night school, they’re complaining about adults who they think are dumber than them for not going to college right away and waiting to take classes after work or something. My mom complains about it every once in a while, and then my dad reminds her that their best human friend went to night school and now he’s loaded. Anyway, monster night school is different. It’s just a bunch of kids like me going to school together at night. Zombies, skeletons, pigmen, and other monsters are all allowed to go to the school. Personally, I think that the humans and villagers just don’t want us to scare their kids. Anyway, Mom’s pitching a fit downstairs, so I guess that I better get ready for school. After all, it is my first day of middle school, so she wants everything to be extra special for me. I’m going to write all about it tomorrow when I actually have some news. I’m sure I will because today is going to be the first day of school this year, and new stuff always happens on the first day.

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Less rigorous was the second Egyptian writing system, hieratic. (The name, which is misleading, means “priestly,” but other social classes used it.) Hieratic was a simplified hieroglyphic script, designed for ink and brush on papyrus or textile: Pictures were converted to stylized outlines or strokes, with a far reduced vocabulary. Hieratic writing in its most basic form was accessible to most of the Egyptian upper and middle classes: landowners, certain merchants, and military officers.

Opportunity. In 1988 Bill Pattis joined Charles Z. Wick, Director of the U.S. Information Agency, and participated in the first U.S.-U.S.S.R. Bilateral Information Talks in Moscow, involving leaders from American media and Soviet counterparts. As a result of this work, he was named Chairman of the American Delegation for print media in follow-up talks with the Soviets in February 1990 in Washington, DC, and

The name Zechariah comes from the Hebrew root z-k-r, which means “remember”; the “yah” at the end is the marker for YHWH, so the name means “God remembers.

Do nothing from k selfish ambition or l conceit, but in m humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4Let each of you n look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5[†] o Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, [1] 6[†] p who, though he was in q the form of God, did not count equality with God r a thing to be grasped, [2] 7[†]but s emptied himself, by taking the form of a t servant, [3] u being born in the likeness of men. 8[†]And being found in human form, he humbled himself by v becoming obedient to the point of death, w even death on a cross. 9[†] x Therefore y God has z highly exalted him and bestowed on him a the name that is above every name, 10[†]so that at the name of Jesus b every knee should bow, c in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11and d every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is e Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

This book tells the story of what happened to the generation born after 1995,[9] popularly known as Gen Z, the generation that follows the millennials (born 1981 to 1995). Some marketers tell us that Gen Z ends with the birth year 2010 or so, and they offer the name Gen Alpha for the children born after that, but I don’t think that Gen Z—the anxious generation—will have an end date until we change the conditions of childhood that are making young people so anxious.[

M,” I said. He shook his head then spelled out the name: E-H-W-A-Z. “Right,” I said. “Because calling it M would be too easy.

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To read, in fact, is a labor of language. To read is to find meanings, and to find meanings is to name them; but these named meanings are swept toward other names; names call to each other, reassemble, and their grouping calls for further naming: I name, I unname, I rename: so the text passes: it is a nomination in the course of becoming, a tireless approximation, a metonymic labor.

My name is Mavis Green,” she mumbled. “I’m a writer, and I came to meet Mr. Wallace.

We are artifacts, you and I. Fossils of a murdered deity rendered down to mud and stone. Irreducible reflections of a divine spark, beautiful and terrible. Fallen and pure. It is a lonely condition—containment. To be both blessed and forsaken, haunted and ignored. Our fallen G-d still reaches for us across that infinite gulf, and we are cursed to reach infinitely back. Nature abhors a vacuum, and we are nature and this abhorrence both. This is why the Selki still speak the old hymns and the Huskan Clerics their feral mantras, reduced by time and memory to an insensate blur. It’s why the Lucente poison themselves with lichen, lying wasted in oneiric fog. It’s why the Elan Friars spend their lives painting votive murals only to see them burned. After all this time, The Karochan kantors still sing in trope, and the Celukids hang new ribs from their Abattoir with every passing moon. Prayers by a thousand names, cast in as many tongues into the same deaf void. My job is to keep it that way.

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So many names lost, or for so long misplaced that they became fictions, which is as good as forgotten. Though in the end what name isn’t a fiction? You think yours isn’t? Mine?

Though in the end what name isn’t a fiction? You think yours isn’t? Mine?