text:
By Jamie Crawford
The United States sanctioned an Iranian airline, three Iranian officials, a trading company and a shipping agent Tuesday for providing support to an elite Iranian military unit that has already been branded a terrorist organization by the U.S. government.
All of the entities sanctioned were involved in the shipments of weapons to the Levant, a collection of countries on the eastern Mediterranean Sea that includes Syria, as well as to Africa, the Treasury Department said in a press release.
They have all assisted Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps-Quds Force, the Treasury Department said.
"Today's action again exposes Iran's malign influence in the Middle East, Africa and beyond," David Cohen, under secretary for terrorism and financial intelligence, said in the release. "As the Iranian regime exports its lethal aid and expertise to foment violence in Syria and Africa, Treasury will continue to expose the officials and companies involved and work to hold them accountable for the suffering they cause."
Under the auspices of humanitarian aid, Yas Airline, a cargo company based in Tehran, has moved illicit cargo, including weapons, to Syria on behalf of the Quds Force. The company, which also works with Syrian officials and the Lebanese organization Hezbollah, has also obscured illicit shipments by labeling them as "auto spare parts," Treasury said.
Iran's shipment of weapons to Syria has been under close scrutiny by U.S. officials for some time. In testimony before the Senate Armed Services Committee this month, Gen. James Mattis, commander of U.S. Central Command, said Iran was using its aerial assets to support Syrian President Bashar al-Assad.
"In terms of Iran, they are working earnestly to keep Assad in power. They have flown in experts. They are flying in weapons. It is a full-throated effort by Iran to keep Assad there and oppressing his own people," Mattis said. "They are providing the kind of weapons that are being used right now to suppress the opposition."
U.S. officials have also pressed Iraq to deny use of its airspace to Iranian aircraft suspected of ferrying weapons to Syrian forces. Earlier this month, State Department spokeswoman Victoria Nuland said the United States was "concerned" about Iranian cargo flights over Iraq, and Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. Martin Dempsey told a Senate panel earlier this month that Iraq has insisted Iran stop such flights over its territory.
In addition to Yas Air, the Treasury Department also sanctioned Behineh Trading and a Nigerian shipping agent for facilitating the shipment of arms to Africa on behalf of the Quds Force.
According to the department, the two entities orchestrated an October 2010 Quds Force weapons shipment that was seized in Nigeria and destined for Gambia. The shipment, which included grenades, rockets, mortars and ammunition, was hidden among construction materials.
Three officials with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps-Quds Force were also subject to the sanctions announced by the Treasury Department.
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text:
As your teenagers might put it — "Duh!" But too often, contracts are signed without studying the details.
Contracts have become a mainstay in modern pork production. We have oral agreements, written agreements, manure easements, swine feeding contracts, building leases and more.
There's no substitute for this critical first step, explains Eldon McAfee, an attorney with Beving, Swanson & Forrest, P.C. in Des Moines.
"Beyond the whereases and heretofores, there are some practical aspects for anyone dealing with contracts," McAfee told attendees at an Iowa Pork Congress seminar in January. "And the ultimate advice is you review it and have your consultants and your attorney review it — before you sign it."
McAfee listed several contracting issues that apply whether the contract is verbal or written:
- Read and understand the contract before signing it
"You're the one who has to deal with that contract, so you need to understand it. Sit down and read through it; that's the starting point," he says.
- Know the other party's financial and business history
"You need to know who you're contracting with. That doesn't mean you shouldn't contract with someone if they have a poor history of business dealings or if they are in poor financial situations. It just means you should be aware of it, and know the risk you are taking if you enter into a contract with this person, and what you should do to protect yourself from that risk.
"If you know something could be a problem, but you're aware of it up front, then you should be able to plan for that," McAfee says.
- If it's in the contract, you must do it
"As an attorney, probably the No. 1 issue that I deal with is the producer who says: 'That isn't what I was told; that isn't what we agreed to.'
"When disputes arise, chances are you will be dealing with an attorney, not the person who told you differently. The bottom line is, if it is in the contract, and you signed it, you have to assume it will apply," he emphasizes.
- If it isn't in the contract, it isn't part of the agreement
"This is the other side. If you are told to do something a certain way, but it isn't in the contract, get it in writing," he says.
The argument, "I just haven't gotten around to changing the contract," will not stand. "If push comes to shove, you have to go by what's in writing. So make sure that everything you agree to do is included in the written contract," he says.
- Oral agreements are binding in most cases
"Although a lot of people don't think oral agreements are binding, they are. The problem with oral agreements is they are more difficult to prove. The basic issue is both sides have to have pretty good memories when you enter into oral agreements. Put it in writing so you don't have to rely on memories," he urges.
- Written agreements
"There's a fundamental premise in contracting, which states: 'This contract supersedes all previous oral agreements.' So an oral agreement, when you have a written agreement, is probably worse than just having an oral agreement," he says.
Article continued on next page >
- Any amendments to the contract must be in writing and attached to the contract
When both parties of a contract agree to do something differently, it should be documented as an amendment to the contract and signed by both.
"I see that issue most often in hog feeding contracts. If you agree to do something different, you must memorialize that as an amendment to the original contract — even if you 'mutually agree' to the change," he says.
- Negotiating contracts
"I am not here to tell you how to negotiate a contract or how to get the best deal possible," McAfee says. "But if you negotiate something that's too good to be true, it probably is, and it's probably going to be a problem.
"Everything is negotiable — including whether to sign the contract. If there's something in the contract that is so egregious that you don't want to sign it — don't," he recommends.
"Go through the contract line by line. Discuss all provisions of the proposed agreement with the other party. Even if the other party will not change a term, at least you will know their interpretation. Then you can at least factor that into the risk that you are taking.
"Have the proposed agreement reviewed by a consultant or legal advisor. As you negotiate a contract, make it clear that there is no contract until everything is in writing and signed by all parties."
- Performance issues
"It's important to go through the contract in detail so you know what is required of you," McAfee states.
If you put the original contract in a safe or other secure place, keep a copy handy so you can refer back to it. This is particularly important if there are deadlines in the contract. Then be sure to build those requirements into your recordkeeping system.
If contract requirements cannot be fulfilled, let the other party know in advance. At least you've made an effort to avoid bigger problems.
The term "force majeure" often appears in contracts. It means "impossibility of performance."
"In other words, if you can't do what the contract says you're supposed to do — and it's out of your control due to a factor covered by the clause — then you will be excused from performance under the contract and you will not be in default," he explains.
"A good example is when a fire burns down a hog building. Under your contract, you're to feed hogs for that person. If there is a force majeure clause in the contract, you are excused, not penalized, and not in default for not being able to feed their hogs while you rebuild.
"Read that clause carefully. Usually they list fire, storm, government intervention, strikes, etc. Most often, market forces, such as the market price of hogs or the price of corn, and disease, do not qualify as force majeure. Therefore, $4 corn may be a financial hardship, but in most cases won't qualify for force majeure."
- Contract assignment
This is an important feature because if you decide to sell your operation, you will want to know whether you can assign the contract to someone else. "Assignments of a contract are often prohibited," McAfee continues.
- Right to correct a default
"Now we're into the part of the contract discussion where something's gone haywire — one party is not doing something they were supposed to do according to the contract. The law provides, under the uniform commercial code, that you have the right to cure any default after notice," McAfee explains.
"Most contracts say, if there's a default, the party that didn't do anything wrong has to give notice to the other side saying you have 30 days (or whatever) to correct the default.
"Especially in hog feeding contracts, for example, there is usually a clause that says the person feeding the hogs pays the utilities. It's pretty important that those utilities be paid. So if they're in default of the contract (not paying utility bill), you'd get damages if anything happened to your hogs. But more importantly, you want to protect your property, so you should have the right to step in, pay the utilities, and then charge it back to the person who didn't pay. That is 'the right to correct a default,' and most contracts do provide that," he notes.
- Mediation, arbitration, mitigation
"Many contracts have an arbitration clause. Arbitration is a process where instead of going to court, you go before an arbitrator," he explains. "An arbitrator will make a decision about who's right and who's wrong, just like a judge would, but you chose that process by contract instead of going through the court system."
Is arbitration a good idea?
"I'll leave that up to you and your attorney," says McAfee. "But you have to be careful with arbitration clauses, because — and remember this — although the court system does have its faults, you as a taxpayer have paid for that system. With arbitration, you and/or both parties pay the arbitrator, depending on how the contract is worded. In other words, whatever time they put in at the hearing, doing their research, making their decision, you will pay for.
"There's a lot of misunderstanding about terminating contracts," he continues. "The courts have a standard rule where all reasonable steps to resolve the problem have to be taken. It's called mitigation of damages.
"Courts do not like to regulate the activity of two parties. They like to render a decision and be done with it. For example, if somebody is supposed to buy something from you (pigs) and they don't do it, the court would most likely terminate the contract and then you would be eligible for damages for their failure to perform over the life of the contract, instead of making them perform under the contract," he says.

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Cheap Thrills
A story of American women in financial jeopardy
Apparently it's the last post-feminist taboo. So let's violate it. Just for you, my friend, today I'm going to open it wide … My pocketbook, my purselet, my hidden portmonee … Yeah, I'm going to push aside all the secret velvety folds and show you that most intimate of female parts: my money.
Because oddly, in this age of the blinding white Oprah pantsuit, when everything is illuminated, it seems a Victorian lace curtain still hangs over the delicate womanly matter of our personal expenditures. But unlike most urban professional females, I'm going to rip back that curtain, I'm going to bare all, I'm going to feed you raw numbers like oysters—My husband? Him? Oh, he won't mind. As usual on weekends, he's with his favorite dominatrix, PBS's own Hell's Angel, Suze Orman. There he stands in the kitchen, obediently chopping vegetables, as from the small TV the saber-toothed blond androgyne berates him in her jacket of leather: "So you've been 'too busy' to figure out how a Roth IRA works, or what a FICO score is? Buddy, wake up and smell the 401(k)!"
In eras past, financial punisher Suze Orman would be a man, feelings negotiator Dr. Phil would be a woman … But no, in the '00s, sex roles, finance roles, power roles, domestic roles—they're all up in the air! Yet still, women don that AmEx-hued fig leaf. In Money, A Memoir, Liz Perle describes a divorcing girlfriend seeking her advice about such complex issues as property division, child support, income lost, college funds. Perle asks—but gets no answer to—what her friend actually spends in a month. After hemming and hawing, the friend finally admits: "I do know, and I'm too embarrassed to tell you. What I need and what I spend are two different things." Writes Perle:
As I hung up the phone, it struck me that I know more about my friends' sexual assets than their financial ones. They've never hesitated to tell me all about love affairs, dreams, disappointments—even their husbands' most minute physical, moral, mental, and sexual failings—but I have no idea what any of them earn or spend each month.
Of course, here's the rub: after reading Perle's "tell-all" memoir, you still have no idea what Perle earns or spends in a month. Yes, she writes candidly about how her own divorce brutally exposed her girlish financial illusions. She confesses to a host of characteristic female frailties, soil previously tilled by Lois P. Frankel in Nice Girls Don't Get Rich (duly credited). Craving not just the convenience but the metaphorical stability of a double oven, Perle admits to being a member of "the emotional middle class," to experiencing downward mobility as a kind of "egocide," to caving in professionally to her own acquiescent "inner stewardess" (who's too polite to protest a bad job assignment or lobby for a raise). It's fertile, relatable territory—what woman, feeling blue, hasn't practiced retail therapy (during PMS, how often have I fondled aromatherapy candles named "Tranquility," rosemary soaplets startlingly named "Refresh!")? What XX-chromosomed human hasn't hoped her dreadlocked spoken-word barista may one day transform into a (still soulful) stockbroker with a bulging portfolio? (For one singletess in Perle's book, saving money is actually painful—it's an admission that "no one is coming to take care of her.")
Over this garden of female neuroses is laid the larger template of American Women in Financial Jeopardy … a topic I'm finding increasingly troubling, gnawing. Just the previous week, I'd been reading Getting Even, by a former lieutenant governor of Massachusetts, Evelyn Murphy, with E. J. Graff. Until then, I'd considered myself pretty well versed in the depressing rills and contours of the gender wage gap. I knew that almost fifty years after Betty Friedan sounded the gender-equality alarum, U.S. women still make just 77 cents to the dollar of U.S. men … I knew about the lifetime million-dollar "Mommy Tax" (Ann Crittenden, The Price of Motherhood) … I knew about the glass ceiling, either real or self-"chosen." But what does a woman's "choice" really mean, Lisa Belkin of The New York Times Magazine, when the job demands eighty hours a week? And how many dual-Harvard-M.B.A. divorce settlements could have gone so much better if the female Harvard M.B.A. had just stayed working? I was already seeing us women in a whirling estrogen maelstrom, Perils of Pauline–like, greenbacks flying madly about our heads as though in a wind tunnel—I pictured us like in that scene in Thelma and Louise, where the money whips from a tearful Geena Davis's hands right out the car window.
But here was yet another layer I'd not even thought of. A laudably thorough examination of sex discrimination in the workplace, Getting Even probes the subtle distinctions that still exist among collars blue and pink. Have you noticed that at elite restaurants, waitpersons tend to be men (better tipped and paid than waitresses at truck-stop diners)? In the aisles of Home Depot, do you see more male employees than female ones? (Salesmen make more than cashiers; cultural biases remain around which sex excels at selling paint chips.) Are you aware that on construction sites, even women fully capable of operating those … Caterpillar … thingies … must fight much harder to get those good union jobs by proving they're physically strong enough to pull up (down?) that gearshift … clutch … dealio—argh!
I felt horrible frustration reading Getting Even, both because of the social injustice and because, with my imperfect attention (I kept thinking of that money whipping out the car window!), I found the book itself so hard to concentrate on. It was a trip to Barbara Ehrenreich Land without Barbara Ehrenreich. I felt awful for the minimum-wage-earning women in their Wal-Mart vests, standing exhausted under the fluorescents; I felt sorrow for their unremitting bad luck, both in life and in literature. It seemed unfair that slogging through their book required ropes, huskies, snowshoes. By contrast, here I was devouring Liz Perle's middle-class confessional divorce memoir like it was a piece of porn, a Harold Robbins beach book. Even Money's Women in Financial Jeopardy statistics mesmerized me: more than half of retired women live in poverty, 58 percent of Boomer females have less than $10,000 in a pension or 401(k) plan. (My own "retirement funds" currently stand at a mere $6K—down from $12K—in a wheezing little IRA. I call him "my Ira," my little Jewish codger who keeps yelling "Feh—my knees!" while osteoporosis shrinks him yearly.)
In the end, however, Money fell short of satisfying me. After all those hazy female anecdotes, metaphors, and statistics, I wanted the Money Shot—I wanted to look at it, to see Perle's own Quicken Bill-Pay file open spread-eagle before me. The only numbers she let drop were $2,500 a month in San Francisco for "a dark two-bedroom shoe box on the ground floor in a dicey neighborhood" and $5,000 for her son's "sweet hippy preschool." Five thousand, eh? Per month? Per year? Do they pay more for organic? What?
But no. Still doing a skillful three-card monte behind her Dance of the Seven Feminist Rhetorical Veils, Perle insisted, "I've talked to women who make $30,000 a year and women who pull in $300,000 annually who feel equally hungry and equally insecure."
All right, then. Barring women of genuinely modest means—those who make less than $30,000 a year, who drive ten-year-old cars or take the bus, who rent apartments, who have tumbled terrifyingly into the health-insurance abyss, who, for goodness' sake, are reading this very magazine between laminated covers at the public library—herewith my modest proposal.
What if, instead of trying to change the still-male-dominated worlds of government and business and contemporary work culture from the top down, we American Women in Financial Jeopardy went the other way? To fill our womanly coffers with the cash we need, what if—in a group strike à la Lysistrata—we all just said no to … buying stuff we don't need?
That would stick it to the Man!
Wait, no, think about it—clearly, it's the synergistic forces of capitalism, corporations, and consumerism that are driving our lives down into a spiraling hell. But, looking at it another way, we're actually pressing our Manolo Blahniks to the accelerator. We women make the lion's share of household purchases in this country. We ourselves drive billions of dollars a year in sales. Without the army of us and our Visa cards … ?
Because the fact is—not to take anything away from the women who make $300,000 a year and still feel hungry—we do happen to live, as you may have noticed, in a country of choking abundance. Our 99-cent stores are Wonders of the World. Food is so cheap, even our pets are obese. The bears in our parks practically require cholesterol medicine. Do you understand? Even our trash is fattening! Things need shaking up when American women feel endangered even as Yosemite bears lumber around belching, their eyes glazed with surfeit, their pelts covered in Oreo crumbs.
Yeah, I see us women piling into our SUVs, our Volvos, our minivans—hell, even our cute little lime-green VW Bugs—and driving out to the desert … Grrrls doing it for themselves, all together. We could get off the grid! We'll dump the cars, change into sarongs … go barefoot … drop out … unplug … start our own Burning Woman festival! At the very least, we could burn our bras! Which would probably take a full month, because by now we have so damn many of them. (Over the years, from Victoria's Secret alone, I've bought Angel bras, T-shirt bras, Wonder bras, Miracle bras—I have so many bras, I could make my own giant bra ball.)
I grant it will be difficult to get the word out about this burgeoning new women's movement. There will be no glossy new Condé Nast magazine celebrating us. There will be no sitcoms about us, standing around, not drinking Diet Coke. Could we get on Dr. Phil? Oprah? "Women Who've Stopped Spending." I can't picture it. I don't even see us blogging on urbanbaby.com about the thrills of buying nothing—our posts would be blocked (if adorably, one little hand up) by Baby Gap (and look at that striped wool mitten with the pom-pom!).
But perhaps humbly, on these pages, I can share one woman's story: my own. After all, I did promise you a journey deep into my pocketbook. Although I do hate to open it. Because I happen to be, yes … the world's cheapest woman.
Let me explain how I got this way—how I became this utter marvel—at age forty-four, in Los Angeles. To start with, professionally speaking, frugality is an absolute necessity. My guitarist husband, Mike, and writer me are the old-fashioned kind of bohemians. Not 'fro-haired hipsters gyrating in iPod ads but the sort who, starting January 1 of every year, literally don't know where their next dime is coming from. That's right: we're the kind of creative free spirits who buy their own health insurance ($500 a month). Over the eighteen years we've lived together, my annual income has ranged wildly, from $9,000 to (in the one surreal year of mirage-like TV pilots) $250,000. We pay cash for everything, including cars. Our house is paid off—not so amazing when you realize we bought it for $239,000 seventeen years ago. Of course it's also 1,300 square feet, and now that we have two daughters, there are four of us in residence.
But here again, the silver lining. The financial upside of living in a too-small house is that you stop buying things, because there's no place to put them. Thanks to our girls, free stuff keeps coming to us anyway, stuff upon stuff. Joyous gifts of clothes, books, toys … The other weekend, I spent three hours on my knees scooping up what I call "piñata chum," the candies and jacks and half-broken tops and balls and SpongeBob stickers that continually trail in from birthday parties of children I cannot even name. A tiny living space is the perfect cure for materialism when brute objects get in the way of such basic human needs as being able to find your mail or sit down while eating.
Of course, one could argue that I'm lucky—I'm genetically inclined toward thrift, coming as I do from an insanely cheap immigrant family. It's true that by now my siblings and I simply enable each other. I'll give as Christmas gifts publishers' galleys I got in the mail. (If they're good, why not?) My sister recently topped that by placing under the tree a book she'd checked out from the San Francisco public library, with the stipulation that my brother finish it quickly so she could return it. But the master of parsimony remains my eighty-five-year-old, Shanghai-born, retired-scientist dad. He doesn't just Dumpster dive; he'll go to his local Starbucks and pour the latte dregs of others into a discarded Starbucks cup and then quaff the whole lukewarm mess right there, while enjoying his also- stolen-from-Starbucks New York Times (to class things up a bit, I guess).
I grant that at a certain point such behavior moves from thrift to eccentricity, even health hazard (never mind how my dad fertilizes his lawn; although I must say, for eighty-five, the man has an astonishing immune system). In my twenties and thirties, I openly rebelled against all this Sanford and Son–like penny-pinching. Spreading my wings, forging my own identity, I was fascinated with the taboo of luxury, of buying expensive things. And so (particularly in the $250,000 year of mirage-like TV deals), I threw down! Instead of cheesy white $5 plastic chairs from Home Depot, how about some quality outdoor pieces made of Brazilian teak—$1,500? Well, it turned out that the two lounge chairs, like fussy pedigreed dogs, required constant grooming (oiling, actually), and—as I like to say in California—I am my own Mexican. I found myself becoming the full-time employee of the fussy teak chairs. I'd spend my afternoons scanning the sky worriedly. Was rain coming? Should I—with much shin bumping and lower-back wrenching—move the chairs into the shed? With then another oiling? I was becoming a slave, a Slave of Teak—and it irked me.
Also, driving through Big Sur over many years, I'd become curious about the Post Ranch Inn. All one could see from the road below was a misty green hill rising up beyond a gate. The Post Ranch Inn's cliff-side retreats were $700 a room and up. And so what? "Seven hundred dollars a room!" I told my husband, arms akimbo, legs planted like Yul Brynner, flush with my Hollywood cash. "For just once in my life, I want to know what a $700 room is like!" I found out. The SUV ride up the hill? Thrilling. The moss-roofed entry port? Magical. The room? A veritable aerie boasting a 180-degree Pacific Ocean view, a stone fireplace, a slate tub, every surface discreetly touched with perfect northern California appointments—exotic teas, eucalyptus bath salts twined in raffia, Bose sound system with DMX … "No!" I snapped at my husband as he leaned over the dials. "Miles Davis we can have at home!" I jabbed my finger toward the skylight, dropped my voice to a whisper: "What we're paying for is the birds, the susurrus of the birds, the natural Pacific birds." He opened his mouth as if to speak, but I shushed him. "Don't you understand? We can't afford conversation," I hissed, my Shanghai blood roaring in my ears, its eternal abacus clacking. "At $45 an hour, what we're paying for is the silence, the natural Zen silence!"
Which brings us to the fact that being neurotic is expensive. Amid the crazily sleep-starved wars of the first baby, Mike and I booked ourselves into therapy. But we soon realized we could stop fighting, find a way to divide the household labor, and save the $120 a session—our health insurance being no dental, no mental. (Since you ask, this is what we came up with: he does all the cooking and cleaning and laundry, and in reward gets to be very bossy and curt about it, and we also have to eat whatever he feels like all the time—lots of fish. I do the bills.)
These are just household things, though—issues of circumstance, fate of genetics. Truly cheap people are, in their secret hearts, individuals. Iconoclasts. Rebels. Always oppressed, always breaking out, with some kind of personal "crazy philosophy" (my dad's term, eyebrows lifted, twirling index finger at the temple). I think the most colorful intro to mine is via one of my favorite novels, Pearl S. Buck's Pavilion of Women. On her fortieth birthday, after serving two decades as a faithful wife and mother, the matriarch of a great house in China announces to her husband that she's done with having sex. She's finding him a young concubine, and is in fact that day moving to another pavilion so she can sit in the library and read books.
I'm fully aware that our 1,300-square-foot bungalow cannot house a young concubine. (Look at me: I'm already doing the math. I'm figuring that young women being what they are today, our concubine would probably also require therapy, fiction-writing classes, spa treatments, the rosemary soap, the Tranquility candles. Forget it!) But what I relate to in this character is the great weariness suddenly felt, midlife, with the trappings of being female. For instance, at forty-four … I'm tired of looking at myself in the mirror. I'm so bored with it! My God, I've been looking at this face for decades now. When will the tedium end?
It wasn't always like this. At age thirty-six, in the year of the mirage-like TV pilots, I found myself many mornings at 10 a.m. riding glass-walled elevators to a lot of frightening meetings with a lot of fresh-faced young people. In multiple fun-house reflections, I could see that I looked like a hound dog, Leonard Nimoy–esque. Those eye bags haunted me day and night. So I paid $3,000 and had them lasered right out.
But here came the strange part. The procedure was so quick, so simple, so painless, and so effective—I looked fabulous, no one could deny it—that my outer appearance actually … began to unravel. Not just the bags but the scales fell from my eyes. For a decade I had cosseted my eye bags like royal invalids—creaming them, lotioning them (after reading a tip in a beauty magazine, I even tried smearing them with Preparation H). Now that I was free … there, there, there on the bathroom counter! That busy, self-important cityscape of skin revitalizers, moisturizers, scrubs, washes, lifters, exfoliants. I suddenly saw that dusty shantytown for what it was: an utter sham! With one sweep of my arm, I razed it. I threw those Clinique and Nivea jars and tubes away, every single one!
When I was the servant of the eye bags (and they my master), oh … I used to be so hunched over, in apology for my hideous presence. I wouldn't dare leave the house without my hair meticulously styled, makeup labored over, wearing what I hoped—prayed!—were my hippest outfits. But now, with the eye bags gone, it was like my female debt was finally, suddenly paid in full. And now the pendulum was swinging wildly the other way. With the worthless cosmetics gone, what else could I do away with? Ideas were flying to me. Why wear earrings, why put on lipstick, why even—the sloth that dare not speak its name—change out of the clothes you slept in? I have this pair of $10 black drawstring Target pants that balance perilously on culture's very Mother Who Works From Home fulcrum. Are they running pants? Exercise pants? Pajamas? Who knows? Then again, check out this Ann Taylor striped T-shirt I'm wearing—Goodwill, $1! (That's right, one dollar. Don't mean to brag, but I paid for it in quarters!) As for my fabulous shoes, they're probably German and expensive, but for me? Free! Because like all my shoes, they're cast-offs! That's the upside of having girlfriends who are rabid shoe buyers. It's such trouble to go back to Nordstrom's to return a color they don't like; it's easier just to … give the shoes to me. Thanks!
Because it's not new clothes I hate so much as clothes shopping. Several decades in, it is the mall itself that has become wearisome to me—depressing, odious, exhausting. Glowering down from all around are posters not just of ten-foot-tall eighteen-year-old supervixens, but of men! Even in Victoria's Secret! Men of rock-hard pecs, gelled hair, curled lip! How gay are our Madison Avenue ad executives?
Speaking of which, one day it hit me how much I'd come to physically dread going to my pricey salon. The faux-antiqued walls, the WWD magazines, the jumping club-kid haircutters (who are by now actually north of forty, just like me). The owner of the salon is Taz—that's the name of the salon, "Taz"—and it suddenly struck me how sick to death I was of hearing about Taz. Taz was here, Taz was there, Taz was in South Beach, Taz was on a shoot in Arizona … where he was developing a new line of "product" including some $30 chi-flavored botanical serum I'd have to, as usual, fake interest in. You know what, Taz? They're just split ends. Fuck off.
Then there's the whole weight project. My friend Carolyn has lost twelve and a half pounds in the past three months. Good for her, you say, but consider what she's spending: $199 for six months at Jenny Craig, plus many little tins of food at upwards of $400 a month. And what with all the deprivation and the sensitized palate, there's the feel-good sports ion water she deserves, at $2 a bottle, of which she has several a day. New gym membership ($40 a month). New running shoes that really fit, air-spring sole, cushioned heel ($100), plus important new sports leggings, new socks, etc. To entertain her during all that treadmilling, a $299 iPod. And to celebrate a drop of two sizes, a recently purchased pair of $300 "distressed" jeans.
That's right—that's what distressed skinny jeans cost now: $300. Carolyn tried on jeans at the mall for three hours before she finally found the right snug fit. Let's not even count the new high-heeled strappy shoewear to go with the jeans, the $120 haircut with highlights. (I admit—when she asked, I sent her to Taz!) Carolyn's self-esteem is glowing. She's going out more at night. She's contemplating a vacation, maybe a cruise, with salsa dancing, windsurfing, parasailing. There's more confidence, laughter, tossing the head back.
In America today, I can't think of one person who wouldn't pump the air and say, "You go, girl!" I can't name one female self-help book that urges you, now that you're forty, to simply accept … the extra seven pounds (talk about egocide). If we were all wearing sarongs, no one would know the difference—that's why we need skinny jeans. When it comes to oppression, jeans are our burka, our religion, our god. We labor for the jeans, we starve for the jeans, we pray to the jeans that they'll close … The fact that we're paying $300 is only good news. Female emancipation is always defined in terms of expanding our economic presence. Our personal power is defined by our earning, our cultural power by purchasing, how we vote with our dollars.
Which is to say, conversely, the woman who buys nothing is nothing.
Nothing … nothing … nothing.
I resent it bitterly, and I am in revolt.
However, having now made a $25 purchase at Borders last week, it is I who gaze in awe. It is I who wave the saggy old bra in salute. Because it turns out there's a new mistress of the shabby pavilions, a new Queen of Cheap! She is New York writer Judith Levine, and I so enjoyed her new book, Not Buying It, that I'll be "gifting" my copy on this Christmas, in turn, to each member of my penurious family.
Nauseated not just by her own maxed credit cards but by her weakness in a hyperconsumerized world, Levine decided to try to survive, for one year, on just "essentials"—a strategy that saved her $8,000 (out of a gross income of $45,000). Yes, there was a diabetic cat requiring expensive veterinary care, and no, Levine's vanity (which I respected her for fessing up to) would not allow her to give up her $55 haircuts. But beyond that, the strictures were urban-spartan. She and her partner, Paul, were to buy no clothes or shoes. There would be no restaurants, movies, gifts. They could buy groceries, but not fancy ones. Toilet paper, yes; Q-tips, no (this impressed me—I consider Q-tips essential).
Levine's yearlong Visa-free journey reveals a hitherto-invisible realm. Without the whirl of buying, vast quantities of time open up—and not just from a lack of purchased entertainment; consuming itself takes time. (In The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz illustrates how we can fritter our days away even on trying to choose the best price for something on the Internet.) But perhaps Levine's most pointed observations are political. She is no fan of Bush—he who advised patriotic citizens, post-9/11, to go shopping. But she's troubled too with her fellow Democrats' click-and-buy approach to political organizing.
If participating in the election by joining MoveOn or Concerned Women for America is not as satisfying as shopping, it feels a little like using an Apple computer or wearing Nike shoes—what Merkely + Partners brand manager Douglas Atkins calls "joining a brand." The twenty-first-century political group is not a group in the human sense. It has no voice, no flesh. There is no room to meet in, no one to meet. You send your money (or not), you get your e-mails (just like your software updates and porn-site come-ons), you "buy in" to the organization's politics.
Meaning that "Kerry" (windsurfing gunboat captain, Ivy League union supporter) was simply a brand that didn't work. These days, Americans are not citizens so much as consumers; says one friend of Levine's, "What's left of the counterculture is the counter."
That's not entirely true, of course. There are those eco-footprint fetishists (almost always white males, natch) who retreat to little dwellings in the woods (notably often the woods of Vermont) to compost and crack their own wheat berries and tinker ad nauseam with revolting gadgets like batteries powered by their own pee—all while doing a lot of calculations about how much "nature" they need to sustain their lifestyle. Generally these types like to keep their income "below taxable level," in the words of Vermont conservationist Jim Merkel, a reformed weapons engineer and the author of the veritable bible of eco-footprint reduction, Radical Simplicity. "Then," as he says, "not a single cent of mine would rain bombs and bullets onto peasants who live near coveted resources." Of course, taxes sometimes go toward good things—bridges, schools, and … well, never mind. Idaho Panhandle, meet the Green Mountains.
But women have a whole different style of going "off the grid." Men like to live alone in a rusty old school bus in Vermont, whereas for women (OK, white women), the romance, the adventure, of getting off the grid comes through travel abroad, away from America's Jeans Nation. I'm thinking now of Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love and Rita Golden Gelman's Tales of a Female Nomad. The narrative always begins with an affluent urban woman weeping alone in her creature-comfort-filled home with the as-though-slugged-in-the-stomach pain of knowing her marriage will end in divorce. She emerges on a whirlwind journey of Third World villages that always, wonderfully enough, involves Bali. Common tropes include sumptuous weight gain, deep conversations with barefoot shaman-type medicine men, untrammeled sex with males of all ages (including Ecuadorian fishers).
All of which sort of confuses the issue of American Women in Financial Jeopardy. Let's face it: it's a lot cheaper to sit in the native woods and put your pee to use than it is to wander the world in search of spiritual advice and sexual catch-and-release. So, what's really going on here, emotio-money-wise?
Liz Perle traces her beliefs about the complex relationship between women and their money to her Yiddish- speaking grandmother. Perle remembers the day about one year after her mother had died that, driven to impart an important life lesson, her grandmother frantically rooted around in her bureau drawers, past stockings and scarves ("each new thrust released the scent of Chanel No. 5"), until finally, from deep inside an underwear drawer, she pulled out a little woven metallic coin purse. "It's a reticule … It's something a woman wears to keep her valuables hidden," her grandmother says. "This is the beginning of your knipple." Perle writes:
In my grandmother's hierarchy of what mattered in life, money silently reigned. She believed that at the end of the day, a woman's safety and security (not to mention social position) depended on it.
The phrase that leaped out at me, upon reading that, was "social position." What a stunningly unique situation modern American women are in. For perhaps the first time in the history of civilization, a woman's social position is completely fluid, hers to somehow ferret out and determine and sustain. It's not just that the West is unlike the East. (It's not just that it's unlike India, where you have an oppressive if impressively well-defined caste system, or unlike Bali, where of course so many are descended from Javanese royalty—for rapt Westerners, yet another of Bali's intoxicating-as-a-jungle-flower features.) Think how far we've come, baby, from Jane Austen's day, when women clearly understood that marriage to an alpha male was upon what their social status depended … from brilliant ascension to Mr. Darcy's £10,000 a year at Pemberley, to the mournful poultry-tending outpost of a union with the rector Mr. Collins.
A modern American woman's social position is not so easy to calculate. If only it were still just about money—the old Yankee Protestant families, the polo ponies, the little dogs, the ladies' lunches, the charity balls, the coiffed hair, the dull face. My Los Angeles is littered with the wives of giant Hollywood Mr. Darcys who materially want for nothing, but who continue to be gnawed at by the novel that won't get written, the environmental cause that can't quite gain celebrity traction, the holistic fitness line that won't sell (it's not the money itself they need, but the prized creativity-and-success marker of the money). Nor is female professional success/independence the cure-all. I think of a novelist friend whose books unfailingly receive burnished notices in The New York Times (making her, literarily, extremely high-caste). The problem is that in person, people find her insufferable (at dinner parties she'll drain the life out of a room with her endless pedantic monologues, much as Elizabeth Bennet's own sister Mary would, plodding on and on with her Scotch and Irish airs). As a result, this friend can't even find her Mr. Collins—or at least not a straight one. On the flip side, I have a vivacious writer friend who lives in a trailer in Topanga who wrote a rickety (yes, Bali-inspired) chapbook several years ago to a spray of pungently mixed reviews that ran only on the West Coast. No New York Times mention for her, not even a capsule. And yet, she's not only an attendee but a hit—especially with flirtatious males of dubious repute, a chain of Mr. Wickhams only adding to her allure—at A-list canyon parties. In the drab wake of pretend feminism, where women share the fuzzy poncho of "sisters," this woman has social capital—which is to say access—to burn.
Jane Austen would lie down with a headache doing this calculus, which isn't really all about the money. It's about the hunger for self-definition, the terror of never knowing where you stand. In lieu of Mr. Darcy (and the ladyship of Pemberley, which I believe I would have handled quite well), at least I have this: a stale, old wedding-gift Tranquility candle.
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text: Richard M Kliman <rkliman at runet.edu> wrote in article <5itc9d$8u6 at ruacad.runet.edu>... > In article <01bc4662$fe880e40$294192cf at mycomputer>, > Joe Potter <joe.potter at worldnet.att.net> wrote: > > > > > >Richard M Kliman <rkliman at runet.edu> wrote in article > ><5ilh1k$c5r at ruacad.runet.edu>... > >> In article <01bc43ae$4b8c7d00$a84992cf at mycomputer>, > >> Joe Potter <joe.potter at worldnet.att.net> wrote: > >> > And more to the point, why sex (mixing your genes 50/50) if the whole > >> >point of evolution revolves around a struggle to leave as many copies of > >> >you genes as possible. Heck, you do not leave even one!!! > >> > >> Who said there's a point to evolution? > >> > >> You seem to be asking how sex can provide for one leaving more copies of > >> one's genes (actually, a disproportionate amount of one's genes) than > >> clonal reproduction. Passing on many copies of one's genes does not > >> guarantee that one will disproportionately influence future gene pools. > >> The carriers of one's genes must also be disproportionately successful > >> offspring producers. Again, I any decent college-level evolution text > >> explains why sexual reproduction is expected to be favored in certain > >> contexts. > > > Rich, you seem to have missed some part of the thread. I pointed out > >(earlier) that Dr. Eldrege called sex a paradox from the ultra-Darwinist > >(his words, not mine) point of view. > > > > He is saying that sex makes no sense if Dawkins position is correct that > >evolution is simply the struggle to leave more copies of one's own genes. > >This is from his 1995 book, last chapter. > > I'm confused. I thought the point of this thread was to discuss possible > explanantions for the persistence of sexual reproduction in the face a > presumed cost to the female. If the point of this thread is to argue the > merits of Eldredge's book or Dawkins' "ultra-Darwinist" viewpoint, then > fine. If Eldredge argues that sex makes no sense in the context of > Dawkins' argument, then either (1) Eldrege is wrong - sex is compatible > with Dawkins - or (2) Dawkins is wrong. Either way, this has little to do > with the origin and maintenance of sex - i.e., the actual study of > evolution. Neither Eldredge nor Dawkins - regardless of their collective > contributions to evolutionary biology - should serve as a focus for > discussions on the evolution of sex. > > So what *is* the point to this thread? > > Rich Kliman > Dept. of Biology > Radford University > > Beats me Rich. I did not start the thread, I only interjected a point. Then I simply responded to those who said I was mistaken, or did not understand simple biology --- or such like. I only want to bring up the point that Eldredge has (if my interpretation is correct) pointed out an inconsistency with modern synthesis. I hoped to see others discuss this. Regards, Joe


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My Secret Recipe Club assignment this month was Denise from Creative Kitchen Adventures. Denise and I share something in common. We're both incapable of following a recipe to the letter. Denise says:
I always look up at least 3-4 recipes for the given item & then I "tweak" it and make it my own!
I don't think it is humanly possible for me to FOLLOW a recipe to the letter.
Oh, how I can relate, Denise!
So, I'm sure she won't mind that I'm tweaking one of her recipes this month. Denise uses a lot of dairy products in her recipes. In fact, her blog reads a lot like mine would have read had I started blogging before I went dairy-free. You know, back when sour cream, cream cheese, yogurt, and cheese were all considered daily staples in my house.
That's not to say that every recipe she has has dairy. I found these amazing sounding black beans. They're on my to-try list.
And, had I wanted to make a dessert (seriously, when do I NOT want to make a dessert) I would have jumped on these flourless brownie cookies.
But, I've been mulling over the grain-free thing, and feeling like perhaps I need to try to incorporate some grains back into my life – mostly because I'm feeling very heavy and weighed down with the massive quantities of nuts in my life right now. I've found myself eating way too many of those in an attempt to compensate for the complete lack of grains. I recently did a nutrition calculation on my favorite breakfast (banana, peanuts, peanut butter, raisins and almond milk). Holy moly, I had no idea how many calories I was consuming at breakfast. Take a look at these numbers:
Geez, Louise. That's a lot of calories and sodium for breakfast. You know how much I love my breakfast bowls, but that's just out of hand. Time to try something new.
So, I landed on her yummy breakfast recipe. Filled with brown rice, low sugar berries, and just a few nuts, it seemed the perfect way to incorporate a "safe" whole grain back into my diet – except for that dastardly yogurt. So, I left it out. Instead, I made a "yogurt-like" concoction by blending the berries with a big handful of spinach and a little bit of almond milk (or kombucha, if you have it, to mimic some of the happy, healthy probiotic beasties of yogurt). And, I skipped the raisins and maple syrup. I'm emphasizing low sugar foods these days.
Tweaking. It's what we do. Right, Denise?
Here are the new and improved breakfast nutrition stats. You might notice that a large percentage of calories still come from fats. I don't have a problem with that. I'm not afraid of good fats, like those found in nuts and coconut.
I think that even leaves room for a breakfast cookie once in a while. Don't you?
So how did the great grain experiment go? Well, sadly, though I found this breakfast to be satisfying, delicious and healthy, my stomach was not pleased. *sigh*
But, if you can eat grains regularly, I urge you to give it a go!
Yummy Rice Bowl Breakfast
1/2 cup berries or unsweetened cherries (nutrition stats done with blueberries)
1 large handful (1 ounce) spinach
1/4 cup unsweetened almond milk or kombucha
2 T. chopped nuts (nutrition stats done with pecans)
2 t. finely shredded unsweetened coconut
1/2 cup cooked brown rice, cooled (Be sure to check Denise's blog for rice cooking instructions)
In a small blender (I use my fake Magic Bullet style blender) puree the berries, spinach and almond milk. Pour into a bowl. Top with rice, coconut and nuts.
To see the rest of this month's Secret Recipe Club submissions, visit the blog hop:


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With its reveal of iOS 8, Apple announced a slew of improvements to its messaging experience on iOS. Not all of them were critical features that its user base had been begging for, but they shared a common theme: broad imitation of the free data-based messaging apps that have blown up in popularity over the past few years.
Features added in iOS 8 include a separate pane for managing media that had been sent to the conversation, including photos and video, and the ability to quickly send voice messages as audio or share your current location. More importantly, Apple added much better conversation management tools, like the ability to add or remove people on the fly as if the conversation screen were a chat room. The company also added the ability to mute individual threads so that when one is overflowing with inane content, you can shut it off and regain control of the top inch of your screen rather than having it plastered with notifications for minutes or hours.
This has never been possible in Messages, nor has it been possible to even stop notifications by deleting a chat. If a group of people has you included on a list to receive messages in Messages, you are powerless against the onslaught. Until iOS 8, Messages was poorly suited to group conversations, which is what sent users flocking to third-party apps like Line and WhatsApp.
With these new features, Apple is moving the power of its Messaging app away from the conventional text-message style and into the new group-chat style that has cropped up lately, but it's doing so by borrowing many other apps' features. WhatsApp has long had a dedicated media pane for each chat that, unlike Messages, is not restricted in content to the most recent batch of messages; it goes back to when the chat was first created if the user desires. Many modern chat apps, including WhatsApp, Line, and Skype, allow users to mute conversation alerts on a per-thread basis. Line and WhatsApp both allow users to add and remove members from one continuous chat instead of having to spawn a new thread.
These features seem secondary, but the numbers don't lie: WhatsApp was acquired for an astronomical $19 billion by Facebook in February. That same month, when WhatsApp experienced a brief outage, Line gained two million users in a 24-hour time span. Back in November, Line had more than 300 million users altogether, and WhatsApp hit 500 million users in April.
While those apps have been amassing gigantic user bases, Apple has been sending iMessages to defunct numbers, loading conversations higgledy-piggledy between their OS X and iOS incarnations, and splintering group chats between phone numbers, iCloud accounts, and e-mail logins across multiple users. By the time four people have said seven things, there are seven different chat windows. Things needed to change.
The Messages updates won't necessarily solve iMessage's chronic syncing problems. And from the onstage demo, it appears that Messages' real Achilles heel will still be present: the new Messages features will handle iMessage-only conversations. Part of the selling point for apps like Line and WhatsApp is that they allow iMessage-like chats between phones with different operating systems. As long as Messages can't offer that, it's going to be on shaky ground trying to compete with cross-platform messaging apps.
The borrowed improvements from better messaging apps will go a long way toward making Messages less frustrating and annoying. Apple seems like it wants to play on the level of Line and WhatsApp, and with its own hundreds-of-millions-strong user base, it already does in a sense. But if the company wants to keep users tightly swaddled in its ecosystem, it's not enough to fix only some of the service's glaring omissions.


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Now that Mariah Carey has decided to provide us endless joy (for at least a couple of months) on the upcoming season of American Idol, already there's talk of how much of a diva one of the biggest ones of all time will be on the show: In short: not much of one.
Yes, despite speculation to the contrary, Mimi is reportedly rather chill in her list of demands. Well, for Mimi.
When Mariah Carey was named the newest, $18 million judge on "American Idol," staffers at the Fox show began bracing for the dreaded and possibly endless list of diva demands, we're told. The pop princess is famously demanding on her backstage riders, which have included such necessities as baskets of puppies, furniture with "no busy patterns," "vases of white roses" and a "tea service for eight."
She once insisted, "I don't do stairs," while other wild reports have said Carey has previously demanded a chauffeur for her dog, "confetti shaped like butterflies" as well as 20 white kittens at a London appearance. But, a source close to Carey says she won't require anything out of the ordinary on "Idol," and adds that the show itself has many of its own branded requirements for stars to use the products of certain sponsors. "It's all standard stuff, nothing out of the ordinary," the source said of Carey's "Idol" requirements. "It's not like they'll need to put a new roof on the building. It's standard lists, whether it's for water, soda, veggies, snacks. It's all fairly normal." So no puppies this time. Then again, Carey's tagline on Twitter declares, "Citizen of the World Dahhhling!"
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[cnn-photo-caption image= http://i2.cdn.turner.com/cnn/2010/images/07/12/art.rubiocu0712.gi.jpg caption="Rubio's cash boost puts the Republican in prime position to blanket the expensive Florida airwaves in what's expected to be a tight three-way battle come November."]
(CNN) - Florida Republican Senate candidate Marco Rubio has posted his best fundraising quarter to date, announcing on Monday a stunning $4.5 million haul over the last three months.
The cash boost puts Rubio in prime position to blanket the expensive Florida airwaves in what's expected to be a tight three-way battle come November.
Rubio's campaign said it has raised $11 million since the beginning of the tumultuous Senate race, which once pitted Rubio against Gov. Charlie Crist in the GOP primary.
Crist fell out of favor with Republican activists and is now seeking the Senate seat as an independent, non-party affiliated candidate. He has not yet released his second quarter fundraising totals.
Two Democrats are squaring off for their party's nomination: Rep. Kendrick Meek, the establishment-backed candidate, and billionaire real estate investor Jeff Greene, who is funding his bid largely out of his own pocket. An aide to Meek said the Democrat raised slightly over $1 million in the second quarter, while Greene has yet to file his financial report.
Contributions to Rubio have ticked up steadily in each successive quarter since he entered the race. In 2009, he collected roughly $3 million. So far this year, the conservative darling has raked in more than $8 million.
The perfect 2012 Republican Ticket:
Scott Brown for President and Marco Rubio for Vice President


text:
Two financial regulatory bodies have issued new Bitcoin-related warnings and sanctions this week.
The first came from FINRA, the financial industry's self-regulatory organization. It published an investor's note on Tuesday saying that "selling and using bitcoins carry numerous risks." The second warning came Monday from a Texas state financial regulator. That document is an emergency cease-and-desist order against Balanced Energy, an energy firm taking investment in bitcoins.
FINRA's warning declared:
Digital currency such as Bitcoin is not legal tender. No law requires companies or individuals to accept bitcoins as a form of payment. Instead, Bitcoin use is limited to businesses and individuals that are willing to accept bitcoins. If no one accepts bitcoins, bitcoins will become worthless.
Platforms that buy and sell bitcoins can be hacked, and some have failed. In addition, like the platforms themselves, digital wallets can be hacked. As a result, consumers can—and have—lost money.
FINRA spokesperson George Smaragdis told Ars that the MtGox's recent bankruptcy filing and the Security and Exchange Commission's trading suspension (PDF) of Imogo Mobile Technologies last month lead to this new warning. (The suspension lasted two weeks, and it was for testing of a new mobile Bitcoin platform).
"Risks inherent to the use of Bitcoin"
The Texas State Securities Board's five-page order (PDF) is believed to be the first such state-level order nationwide. It's against Balanced Energy, a Dallas-area oil-and-gas firm that was soliciting investments in Bitcoin,
The order notes, among other securities and financial violations, Balanced Energy intentionally failed to disclose the "nature of the risks associated with the use of Bitcoin to purchase working interests, including the risks inherent to the use of Bitcoin and the risk that fluctuation in the price of the digital currency may affect business operations."
The firm did not respond immediately to Ars' request for comment.
Last month, the day after MtGox declared bankruptcy in Japan, Texas Securities Commissioner John Morgan cautioned investors away from Bitcoin.
"Although digital currencies such as Bitcoin are often touted as a sophisticated, online alternative to traditional currencies, investors should realize these currencies are not tangible, they are not issued by a government, and are not currently subject to traditional regulation or monetary policy," Morgan said in a statement on February 25.


text:
This self-description of a lukewarmer (at Bishop Hill) gave me a good laugh:
Now I'm probably some sort of a lukewarmer – I don't e.g. agree with Turning Tide that the fact that CO2 concentrations are low means ipso facto that it is irrelevant.
Like luketoxers who acknowledge the fact that arsenic in low concentrations doesn't ipso facto mean that it's irrelevant. It's like saying I'm not a total doorknob.
Curious, I went back to read what Turning Tide had written and came across this gem:
What I found most telling is how certain facts about the atmosphere are very hard to track down for the layperson. For example, I'm pretty sure the average joe has no idea how little CO2 there is in the atmosphere, and how small a proportion of that little amount is contributed by human activities. It's almost as though there's a conspiracy of silence to keep such information out of easily accessible sources.
Can everyone who has a CO2 concentration widget on their blog please remove it now? We've got to keep it a secret that its concentration is a meagre 395 parts per million.


text:
Thu, Dec 7, 2006
Smith Mountain
Granite Knob
|Photos / Slideshow
|Maps: 1 2
|Profiles: 1 2
It was Thursday morning and I wasn't expecting Matthew until sometime early Friday morning. My plan was to climb the peaks around Smith Mtn and then if I had time, a climb of Sirretta Peak in the late afternoon. Arriving at the TH at 10a, the plan was somewhat simple, if ambitious - three hours to climb Smith, Jackass, and Granite Knob, two hours to drive to Big Meadow, three hours to climb Sirretta. It would get me to the top of Sirretta for sunset, then back to the van by 6p. But plans rarely work out so smoothly.
I parked the van where the road runs south of Granite Knob. I could have driven further east, but the road condition looked to grow worse and I figured the van had done enough to get me as far as it did. It was pretty easy to find my way to Smith as I followed the road east to a saddle, then south up a broad ridge towards the summit. I found a few ducks along the way, but they weren't terribly helpful for any practical purpose. I bypassed one false summit on the east side, then approached the summit rocks also from the east. The summit is composed of a line of rocky outcroppings, and the highpoint is far from obvious. Not finding a way up from the east side, I climbed through a notch between two of the outcrops and wandered over to the west side. There I found a class 3 route up to the top of one outcrop - not the highest as it turned out. I could see that the highpoint was the outcropping furthest north, so I made my way over surprisingly fun rock along the ridgeline to the highpoint and the summit register. I signed the summit register (dating back to 1963) and took some pictures of the outstanding views around the Domelands and Golden Trout wildernesses. I was happy to find the weather so cooperative - temperatures now in the 50s, and the air cool, crisp, and very clear. Leaving the summit, I found the exit off the north side (the obvious route up for most visitors) quite easy, wondering how I managed to miss it on the way up.
In retracing my route back down to the saddle, I climbed the false summit I had bypassed on the way up for no better reason than the rocks looked fun. This would be the mode for the afternoon and the primary reason I got so far behind schedule - there's just so much fun scrambling around that I hated to leave any of it unexplored. I next headed for Jackass Peak, which also has several summits, I came to find. In classic style I misjudged their heights and climbed the lower north summit first. I really didn't mind, because the north side of the south summit looks very cool from the north summit, and it inspired me to climb it by that class 4 face. As an additional treat I found an old piton on the crux of the north side, though exactly why it was there was hard to determine. Atop the higher south summit, I found a register in a rusty tin. In addition to lots of fine crags, the area is rife with summit registers, too.
Heading west for Granite Knob, I was attracted by several lesser rocky knobs in between the two named summits and simply had to explore them. On the lower of the two I found a Sierra Club register placed by Gordon MacLeod in 1982. Mine was only the tenth entry in the intervening 24 years. Interestingly, Ron Hudson's name was one of the ten. I then scrambled over to the higher summit some distance away, Peak 9021ft. A register, placed in 1987 by Andy Smatko and party, declared (in classic Smatko style) an "apparent first ascent." This was chastened in the next entry by a local ranger who declared, "Quit it!" The elevation recorded was that for the lower peak. They named the peak "Andrea Peak" for the female member of the party, but I don't think that name stuck. I descended by way of the NW Ridge, then continued west to Granite Knob. As earlier, I climbed the lower summits first before finding my way to the highpoint near the far north of the summit rocks. Again I didn't mind because the class 3 scrambling was both abundant and highly enjoyable. I found the fifth register of the day, one dating back to 1972 and placed by Carl Heller. That one was a gem.
By the time I returned to the car it was 2:30p, an hour and a half behind the original plan. I no longer would be able to make Sirretta for sunset, but maybe I could find the peak before I needed a headlamp? It took nearly two hours to drive the distance to Big Meadow. Along the way, not long after starting out, I hit a rock on the side of the road which violently jarred the car and made some awful noises. Getting out to inspect the damage, I found the rock had struck the running board on the passenger side, busting it up a bit and knocking it out of kilter. Hmm. I remembered I had some duct tape in the car, and after a hasty repair job to secure the wiring from further damage, I went on my way (it took me half a day when I got back to remove the running board and pound it back into shape).
I didn't take long to hit the trail when I got to the TH around 4:30p, as I wanted to get close to the summit before darkness set in (in my rush I forgot my camera). I managed to make most of the route up the steep trail before I pulled out the headlamp, but hadn't made it to the cross-country part yet. Fortunately I was able to spot the tell-tale duck alongside the trail and started following this up the slope, heading west. There's no use trail at this point and the ducks were of marginal help. Eventually I lost them altogether and just kept going up until I topped out at the ridge.
By the time I was at the ridge it was very dark, the headlamp absolutely essential. There would be no moon for many hours. I turned at the ridge and headed for what I thought was the highpoint. I noted the lights of the Owens Valley to my left and thought it quite beautiful in the cold night air. The ridgeline did not lead me to an obvious summit, but rather a gradual incline that seemed to continue ever upward. After about ten minutes it struck me - that wasn't the Owens Valley I was looking at, but rather the Central Valley. The former would be blocked by the Sierra Crest well to the east, keeping any lights from that direction out of my line of sight. The seriousness of the situation struck me quite quickly - this was not a place to get disoriented and lost. If I was unable to find my way back to the trailhead I would be in serious trouble since I had nothing to allow me to spend a night huddled in 20-something degree weather. I had a fleece, warm gloves, and a balaclava, but that was about it. Getting lost was not an option. As I've found before, it's hard to get your brain to reorient once you've gotten out of kilter by 180 degrees. But I forced myself to accept that I was heading in the wrong direction and turned around. I figured I'd give the summit ten or fifteen minutes to make itself known before I abandoned it for a return before I got myself further disoriented. I was more than a bit nervous at this point.
It would have been an odd peak to fail at since it's one of the easiest on the SPS list. But as fate would have it, the summit rocks eventually made themselves known to me through the darkness and I scampered up them to the summit and the register. A wooden crate was fastened to the summit rocks with a register inside. The wind had picked up and it was getting frightfully cold, so I made an entry just as fast as possible with my gloves off. I was shivering by now and my writing looked like a first grader's. Oh well. I beat a hasty retreat, and as I made my way back down the east slope, I could no longer feel the sting of the wind and once again I warmed up. After what seemed a longer time than it should have (and had me a bit worried), I came upon the trail and suddenly I was safe and worry-free. Without further issue, I made it back to the trailhead just after 7p. It had been a good day.
I reparked the van back out on the main road on the west end of Big Meadow where Matthew was sure to spot it. I had sushi from the cooler for dinner, all the while warming myself and the inside of the van with the engine's heater. My van's mileage suffered a good deal as I let the engine idle for a number of hours that weekend to keep myself cozy inside. It was one of the best uses for petroleum that I had ever discovered.
For more information see these SummitPost pages: Smith Mountain - Sirretta Peak
This page last updated: Tue Oct 21 08:35:40 2014
For corrections or comments, please send feedback to: firstname.lastname@example.com


text:
For Thursday April 21, 2022:
Romans 8:7 (NKJV)
The carnal mind is enmity against God.
Let me suppose an impossible case for a moment. Let me imagine a man entering heaven without a change of heart. He comes within the gates. He hears a sonnet. He starts! It is to the praise of his enemy. He sees a throne, and on it sits one who is glorious; but it is his enemy. He walks streets of gold, but those streets belong to his enemy. He sees hosts of angels; but those are the servants of his enemy. He is in an enemy's house; for he is at enmity with God. He could not join the song, for he would not know the tune. There he would stand; silent, motionless; till Christ should say, with a voice louder than ten thousand thunders, "What doest thou here? Enemies at a marriage banquet? Enemies in the children's house? Enemies in heaven? Get thee gone! Depart ye cursed, into everlasting fire in hell!" Oh! sirs, if the unregenerate man could enter heaven, I mention once more the oft-repeated saying of Whitefield, he would be so unhappy in heaven, that he would ask God to let him run down into hell for shelter. There must be a change, if you consider the future state; for how can enemies to God ever sit down at the banquet of the Lamb? And to conclude, let me remind you—and it is in the text after all—that this change must be worked by a power beyond your own. An enemy may possibly make himself a friend, but enmity cannot. If it be but an adjunct of his nature to be an enemy he may change himself into a friend; but if it is the very essence of his existence to be enmity, positive enmity, enmity cannot change itself. No, there must be something done more than we can accomplish.


text:
lio: Labeled IO Information Flow Control Library
This is a package candidate release! Here you can preview how this package release will appear once published to the main package index (which can be accomplished via the 'maintain' link below). Please note that once a package has been published to the main package index it cannot be undone! Please consult the package uploading documentation for more information.
- Exposed modules use unallocated top-level names: LIO
The Labeled IO (LIO) library is an information flow control (IFC) library. IFC is a mechanism that enforces security policies by tracking and controlling the flow of information within a system. Unlike discretionary access control (such as UNIX file permissions), IFC permits scenarios in which untrusted computation may have the ability to manipulate secret data without having the ability to further disclose that data.
LIO is an IFC library that can be used to implement such untrusted
computations. LIO provides combinators similar to those of
IO for
performing side-effecting computations (e.g., modifying mutable
references, forking threads, throwing and catching exceptions, etc.)
To track and control the flow of information, LIO associates a
security policy, called a label, with every piece of data. A
label may, for example, impose a restriction on who can observe,
propagate, or modify the data to which it applies. Unlike standard
IO operations, the LIO counterparts check the vailidity of labels
before performing the (underlying IO) side-effecting computation.
For example, before writing to a labeled variable, LIO asserts that
the write will not violate any security policies associated with the
data to be written.
Most code should import module LIO and whichever label format the
application is using (e.g., LIO.DCLabel to use the format that
ships with the library). Side-effecting code should be specified as
actions in the
LIO monad. See LIO.Core for a description of the
core library API, LIO.Label for a discussion of labels, and
LIO.Run for functions allowing one to run an
LIO computation
from the
IO monad.
WARNING: For security, untrusted code must always be compiled with
-XSafe and
-fpackage-trust SafeHaskell flags. See
for more details on the guarantees provided by SafeHaskell.
|0.0.1, 0.0.2, 0.1.0, 0.1.1, 0.1.2, 0.1.3, 0.9.0.0, 0.9.0.1, 0.9.1.0, 0.9.1.1, 0.9.1.2, 0.9.2.0, 0.9.2.2, 0.10.0.0, 0.11.0.0, 0.11.0.1, 0.11.2.0, 0.11.3.0, 0.11.4.0, 0.11.4.1, 0.11.4.2, 0.11.5.0, 0.11.6.0, 0.11.6.0, 0.11.7.0, 0.11.7.1
|Change log
|None available
|base (>=4.5 && <6.0), bytestring (>=0.10), containers, hashable (>=1.2) [details]
|Hails team
|Deian Stefan <deian at cs dot ucsd dot edu>
|Home page
|Bug tracker
|Source repo
|head: git clone https://github.com/PLSysSec/lio.git
|by DeianStefan at 2016-07-05T00:09:35Z
- lio-0.11.6.0.tar.gz [browse] (Cabal source package)
- Package description (as included in the package)
Maintainer's Corner
Package maintainers
For package maintainers and hackage trustees


text:
By THE LEARNING NETWORK
On Mondays, we publish a Times photo without a caption, headline or other information about its origins. Join the conversation by commenting on what you see and why. A live discussion is offered that day from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. Eastern.
Published: November 30, 2015 at 12:00AM
from NYT Education http://ift.tt/1HzwJFI


text:
Miley Cyrus postpones more concerts as she remains hospitalized
NEW YORK – Miley Cyrus is postponing more concerts as she remains in a hospital for a severe allergic reaction to antibiotics.
A representative says the singer won't perform in Nashville, Tennessee, on Friday and Louisville, Kentucky, on Saturday. Those concerts will be rescheduled.
Cyrus suffered from a sinus infection last week during her "Bangerz" tour. Her rep says she had "an extreme allergic reaction" to the antibiotic cephalexin.
This week, Cyrus also canceled concerts in St. Louis and Kansas City, Missouri. She postponed a show in Charlotte, North Carolina, last week because of the flu.
The 21-year-old "Wrecking Ball" singer's next scheduled tour date is Monday in Philadelphia.


text:
Offering Public or Private webcams for your Doggie Daycare. Whether you want your webcams password protected or available for the world to see, we offer it all!
Our Day Care Cameras are easy to install and only require a network router and internet connection. Webpage creation, webcam programming and network router set-up is inlcuded in the cost of the webcam systems. [demos available]


text:
Story by the Associated Press; curated by Dave Urbanski
WASHINGTON (AP) — The Obama administration will unveil a plan Monday to cut earth-warming pollution from power plants by 30 percent by 2030, according to people familiar with the proposal.
President Barack Obama (Image source: AP/Susan Walsh)
The rule, when it becomes final a year from now, will set the first-ever national limits on the gases linked to global warming from the nation's power plants. They are the largest source of greenhouse gases.
It will also be a defining part of President Barack Obama's environmental legacy, which has revolved around global warming.
Environmental Protection Agency data shows the nation's power plants have reduced carbon dioxide emissions by nearly 13 percent since 2005, so they are about halfway to the target in the proposal.
The details were first reported Sunday by The Wall Street Journal.


text:
Working Remotely
As the world takes measures to stop the speed at which the coronavirus Covid-19 spreads, working remotely has become a necessity. The following are a list of tools & how-to guides to help you work and collaborate efficiently at home.
OIT Teams - Chat & Video Conference
Webex - Video Conference
Box - File Storage & Sharing, File Edit Simultaneously
OneDrive - File Storage & Internal Sharing, File Edit Simultaneously
VPN - Access the UT Dallas Network
Accessibility Resources for Office 365
Click the link above for full list of services.
Click the link above for full list of services.


text:
Located in Dallas, Texas Jodie Westfall Photography specializes in capturing life unscripted with Graduating High School/College, Engagement Photos, Bridal Portraits, Weddings, Family, and Baby Sessions.
Our passion is capturing your special moments so you can share them with others. Our photo-journalistic approach, combined with our skill for catching the details others miss, guarantee that your pictures - whether traditional posed photographs, snap shots, of those unscripted moments -- will be images you cherish.


text:
Thanksgiving Strategy
We're not going to tell you to give up your beloved turkey and stuffing, so you can breathe easy and keep reading. But there are some super simple strategies you can use to help keep calories in check while still enjoying your meal.
There's no need to starve until the big meal. Make a quick and easy breakfast that'll give you enough energy to last until turkey time. The last thing you want is to be famished and cranky when guests arrive.
In my family we love to schedule our annual football game in the late morning to help us build up our appetite. It also gets in our daily dose of physical activity and we get to snap some wonderful family memories!
Not into football? What about a turkey trot? Round up family and friends and get running (or walking). Turkey trots are popping up around the country so check for one in your local area.
Each year my youngest brother finds the need to pile his plate so high that we can't see his face (and he's over 6-feet tall!). He finishes his first plate like Speedy Gonzalez and re-fills his plate just as high! There's just no need to eat so much that you need to unzip your pants and roll yourself home. Although my bro admits that he likes the food hot out of the oven, I always tell him leftovers can be just as tasty warmed up in the oven or stovetop (as opposed to the microwave). Also, take time and enjoy this phenomenal meal. Savor every bite and listen to your body when it says it's full.
- Lay off the fried turkey and go for the traditional oven-baked instead.
- Whether light or dark meat is your vice, take off the skin or take a small bite. You can cut 10 calories and 2 grams of fat per ounce by forgoing the skin.
- 3 to 4-ounces of turkey is plenty given all the other goodies that are on the table.
- Survey your options: take a once over before making your final decision.
- Don't fill up on the usual. Spend your calories on those dishes that only make it to the table once a year!
- Use the 2 tablespoon rule—take 2 tablespoons of all your favorites (including cranberry sauce and gravy).
- Check out the desserts and choose your favorite. A sliver of pie is all you need, especially if you're feeling pretty full from the main meal.
- Use the 2 tablespoons rule if you need your pie a la mode.
- Share a slice.
- It's fun to have a cocktail or two before or during the feast. But don't go overboard! Too much alcohol can cloud your judgment and lead to overindulgence.
- Juice, alcohol, and soda all have calories—if you can skip it, then do. Opt for water or seltzer instead. It can save you a few hundred calories.


text:
Arte Expo is giving opportunity to all Artists in this Universe.
Come join us: Free
Opportunity for yourself, and participate in the samples crossing the borders.
"Exhibition only for Sculptors" -
Fifth Exhibition only for Sculptors Virtual Art Show -01 Part
Artcom Expo International Association of Artists and Partnerships
66th International Cultural Exchange of Arts
5a Edition Art Quarantine - "Art and Life Survive! "
Opening of Virtual Exhibition:07th of June 2020
Visual Art Exhibition - Free
Dear Artists:
Our primary objective is to establish the dissemination of Artists from the Countries listed above and to bring their Art to Europe through Artcom Expo Internacional Cultural - Scandinavia - Europe - Latin America -
People should always see the best of life, even with obstacles and problems. This is the first step to live in harmony. Thus it will be possible to see the facts in a positive way and to enjoy life. Art in general is the best therapy in the world. The Art keeps the artist focused and determined on the work that will be done, concentrated what turns to be the best medicine, especially when we have time to produce something with love and affection. The best and the most difficult moments Will be recorded in Art!
Go slightly through the day, smile whenever is possible and at the end of the day, reflect on positive goals for the next day. Start the day well, and then it will end even better. Focus on what interests you and thus, nothing will be able to shake your plans. Wait for positive directions for you and let life show you that it can be even better than your plans. Be positive and start the day well. Love, live intensely, smile and be good to yourself.
For every day the Earth revolves around itself. The sun rises and sets so the moon can reign. The world spins. Life goes around. And everything has its time.
You have to be patient and know how to wait. Each new day that is born is a new chance to continue trying and elaborating with love, affection and another Creativity of these sad moments. When you wake up always think that the world and life do not stop, even while you sleep. And so you will be doing a very different and positive work.
Waiting with support from those who breathe and live for Art! Success to all who will participate.
So, I will not do Salon Premier Virtual, because this would not have any credibility, mainly because I do not have a Jury with the works exposed to the public so that they could really have been evaluated, and when it is virtual, with a link or virtual vote, it looses its value! People usually asks friends to vote for them, what is not fair. For that reason we will be change the Virtual Reward!
Opening: Delivery of Virtual Certificates, Flyer and Virtual Catalog AND yOTUB Get in touch: SITE: www.artcomexpo.com - E-MAIL: email@example.com-
DIMENSION of the works: Free The artist will be able to exhibit 1 work - done in the course of World isolation.
Registration is open to all interested artists.
Documents to be provided
Send a resume with a thousand letters - a photo of the Artist - A photo of the Work that will appear in the Virtual Catalog 07ofJune 2020.
Fill in the attached form and send it by e-mail: email@example.com
Work Data:
Generales Coordinatores: Baroness Jiselda Salbu
Norway May 2020
President- Hans Arnt Salbu Baroness Jiselda Salbu
Artcom Expo Internacional Director and Coordinator
Urene, 6730 Davik Norway-
Email: firstname.lastname@example.com
Contact: Norway / Jiselda Salbu / wap zap- TELS: + 47-97907611 /
Contact: Norway / Hans Salbu + 47-47413621 e-mail: email@example.com or email@example.com


text:
Event Date:
16 June 2014 to 18 June 2014
Going Beyond Surveillance - Panasonic at IFSEC 2014
IFSEC International has been at the heart of the security market for more than 40 years. This year, IFSEC International takes up residency at new venue ExCel in London's Docklands - a purpose built venue in the UK's international business hub.
We will be present at IFSEC and will be exhibiting how our security is going beyond surveillance and we'll be introducing a new range of intelligent solutions that will add real value to your business. We will also showcase our new Access Control Solution for the first time in Europe during IFSEC.
Visit us at stand G1000 to go beyond surveillance with us!
Click here to register for IFSEC.
For more information on IFSEC 2014 itself, please click here.


text:
Get the right advice & the right protection
Get expert advice for home, auto, & more from an independent insurance agent
The best insurance agents combine the insurance world with your world. We work with more than 35,000 independent agents and insurance brokers at thousands of different insurance agencies. So, you can be sure you'll find an agent in your community who understands your needs and can get you the best policy and price available. Find a local insurance agent now and tell them a bit about yourself. They'll handle the rest.
The whole experience starts with a simple conversation. Your agent gets to know you and then recommends the right coverage for your needs.
If there's an accident, you'll find comfort in those little touches Progressive provides, like guaranteed repairs* accident forgiveness, and a simplified repair process.
As you move through life — to a new apartment, house, a bigger family, a new boat or motorcycle — your agent will always be there for you.
Agents offer more than auto and home insurance; they provide a wide range of options to cover motorcycles, RVs, and more. No matter what your needs are or where you're at in life, insurance agents can provide customized policies and personal service.
Your local agent can also offer insurance options from other companies, including business, commercial, life, health, umbrella, classic car, and more. Whether you're starting a business, welcoming new family members, increasing your financial assets or something else, your agent will always be there with insurance options that keep up with your needs.


text:
Illinois held to 36 points in loss at Minnesota
Illinois' 20-game winning streak over Minnesota lasted 10 years and included four Minnesota coaches.
The run began with an upset by a No. 11 seed in the Big Ten Tournament, continued with a last-second shot by Frank Williams here that saved a share of the Big Ten Conference title in 2002 and -- remarkably -- kept going with three more wins last season when the Illini had trouble finding someone to beat in the Big Ten.
Sooner or later, it was bound to catch up on the Illini. It did Thursday, when the Minnesota defense shackled No. 19 Illinois as the Gophers rolled to a 59-36 victory at sold-out Williams Arena Thursday.
Somebody find an exclamation point.
The loss was the worst for Illinois since an 88-57 blowout at Indiana in the 2001-2002 season. Illinois' scoring output was its lowest in Big Ten play since a 54-34 loss to Purdue in the 1984-85 season. Illinois also saw an eight-game winning streak at Williams Arena ended.
The Big Ten's biggest surprise, Illinois hadn't been manhandled like this all year. The team's first three losses came down to the final minutes, but Minnesota enjoyed its most convincing victory in coach Tubby Smith's second year.
Illinois didn't have much trouble scoring this year, averaging 66.4 points a game to rank third in Big Ten play heading into the game, but Illinois' offense Thursday resembled something from last season.
The best shooting team in the Big Ten, Illinois entered with 47.9 percent shooting on the season, but the Illini trailed at halftime for only the second time all season after shooting 25 percent and missing all eight 3-point attempts. Minnesota led 22-16 heading into the second half.
Even though this quirky barn is one of the best home-court advantages in the league, Minnesota's defense played an even bigger role in Illinois' slow start. The Gophers rank second in the Big Ten in field-goal defense.
A 9-0 Minnesota run gave the Gophers a 45-27 lead with 7 minutes 50 seconds remaining.
Reserve forward Dominique Keller led the Illini with nine points. Illinois finished the game shooting 29.4 percent. The Illini were 2-for-16 from the 3-point line.
Illinois fell to 17-4 overall and 5-3 in the Big Ten. The Illini slid into a fourth-place tie in the Big Ten standings with Penn State. It's hard to keep pace with No. 9 Michigan State. The Spartans won their fifth Big Ten road game by pasting Iowa on Thursday in Iowa City.
The only team without a Big Ten home loss, Illinois hosts Iowa on Sunday (1 p.m., Big Ten Network). Illinois began a stretch of four games on the road in the next six.
The Gophers (18-3, 6-3) turned the gym into Tubbytown. Guard Michael Westbrook led Minnesota with 15 points.
Illinois hadn't lost here since 1999. If a 20-game winning streak against a conference foe sounded like a lot, that's understandable. The streak was a school record against any Big Ten foe. Illinois had 16-game winning streaks over Northwestern (twice, 1947-55 and 1984-1991) and Wisconsin (1981-89).
The 20-game run over Minnesota ranked as the fourth longest nationally behind Oklahoma over Baylor (25 wins), Penn over Dartmouth (23), Texas over Baylor (23). Illinois' eight-game winning streak was one short of the longest opponent streak in Williams Arena.
NOTES: Weber and Minnesota coach Tubby Smith wore tennis shoes as part of the Coaches vs. Cancer weekend. A moment of silence was held before the game for North Carolina State women's coach Kay Yow, who died after a 22-year battle with cancer. … Brian Cardinal, a former star at Purdue and now a member of the NBA Minnesota Timberwolves, sat in the first row behind the Illini bench. Cardinal, who prepped at Tolono Unity, is the son of Rod Cardinal, the former Illini trainer who oversees projects within the basketball office.
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