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Where Geographers Work
Many geographers pursue rewarding careers in education; business; local, state, or federal government agencies; and nonprofit organizations. These sectors can be described as follows:
- Education - The education sector includes K through 12 institutions, colleges and universities that award at least a two-year degree, continuing education and informal education organizations, and higher education institutions. Educators may also work in educational administration and academic research positions.
- Business - The business, or private, sector refers to the segment of the economy composed of enterprises owned by individuals or groups. Corporations are accountable to their shareholders and operate at national or international scales. Independent businesses are privately owned by an individual or small group and usually operate at a local or regional scale.
- Government - Applicants new to the public sector, which includes federal, state, and local government, may find the broad, integrative perspective offered by academic training in geography to be an asset. Nearly 2 million civilians—1.8 percent of the U.S. workforce—are employed by the federal government, while state and local governments employ 19.8 million workers. Geography's emphasis on addressing real-world problems and issues is excellent preparation for public sector employment, particularly at the local and state levels where much policy innovation, implementation, and bottom-line responsibility reside.
- Nonprofit - Roughly nine percent of the U.S. workforce (12 million individuals) is employed by an estimated 1.4 million nonprofit organizations, whose causes and values span the entire political spectrum. Because nonprofits typically strive to create a better world (as defined by their mission statements), they offer great opportunities for job seekers hoping to make a difference.
To learn about the careers of geographers working in each of these sectors, check out our online collection of professional profiles or download our Profiles of Professional Geographers Slideshow.
Excerpted from: Adams, Joy K. 2013. Switching sectors: Transitioning into and among business, government, and nonprofit careers." Chapter 3 of Practicing Geography: Careers for Enhancing Society and the Environment, eds. Michael Solem, Kenneth Foote, and Jan Monk. Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Education.


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Acerca de Jay Farrar
Farrar founded and fronted Uncle Tupelo the seminal Alt Country act whose critically acclaimed 1990 debut, No Depression, spawned a movement that made country music cool to indie kids. A rift with co-founder Jeff Tweedy caused the band to split; Tweedy formed Wilco (eventually moving away from anything resembling the Alt Country sound), while Farrar continued to mix crunchy, heartland-inspired rock with weepy, twang-toned ditties in Son Volt. Though he experimented with different sonic textures and Hawaiian slack-key tunings, his warm, hushed drawl always kept an Americana flavor. After three albums and a two-year hiatus from Son Volt, Farrar pushed his signature sound a bit further on solo works that drew on a wide range of collaborators: Jon Wurster (drummer for Superchunk); traditional country gospel rockers Dave Rawlings and Gillian Welch; Brian Henneman (Bottle Rockets); Blood Oranges' guitarist Mark Spencer; and Flaming Lips keyboard player Steven Drozd. His solo works echo his past recordings with hearty nods to the Crazy Horse crunch. Farrar also formed his own indie label, Act/Resist and scored the independent film The Slaughter Rule.
Artistas similares
Benjamin Gibbard, Jeff Tweedy, Ryan Adams, The Court & Spark, Whiskeytown, Wilco

subset: commoncrawl


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Topic: ~Breakdown~ (Read 10632 times)
Outbreak Survivor
Posts: 75
December 21, 2009, 09:08:20 am »
O hai. This is a pretty old TZH fan-fic that I had posted here quite a while ago until I noticed it mysteriously disappeared from this forum section...hmmm. Anyways, I've reposted it for your viewing pleasure.
Chapter I- Not Like This
Trey surveyed the dusty old shack. It was made entirely out of rotting old wood. Every surface seemed to be blanketed in dust. It was dark, the only light coming from cracks in the ceiling and the boarded windows. There was a single door, bolted down heavily. He did not know how long hed last in here. He drew his custom Glock 22, which had the words Rest in Pieces engraved along its barrel. He popped out its magazine. It was full, but the only one he had.
And then it came. A series of loud thuds resonated from the door. Trey raised his weapon.
Come on you sons of bitches! he shouted hotly. Im waiting!
Whatever was outside began to pound at the windows as well. Trey nervously aimed his gun at all the entrance points. Sweat dripped from his forehead. Adrenaline flooded his veins. One of the windows finally gave in. A festering hand punched a hole through the boards, allowing a beam of light to blast into the shack.
Trey took aim at the breached defence and squeezed the trigger of his Glock several times. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three shots rang out, tearing more holes into the boards. Whatever was behind it groaned mournfully but continued to pound its way in.
God dammit! Trey swore. You dont give up, do you?
The front door slowly broke away. Whatever was on the opposite side of it seemed to have incredible strength. Before Trey knew it, the door was blown off its hinges and fell aside. Light flooded into the shack, blinding Trey momentarily. Standing at the doorway was the dark figure of what looked like a human. It suddenly charged at Trey, wailing in an unwholesome manner that sent chills down his spine. He aimed towards the charging creature and pulled the trigger several times. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The creature groaned briefly before dropping to the floor..
More of the creatures seemed to be crowding around the doorway, eager to get inside. The intense light prevented Trey from taking proper aim. One of them dared to take a step into the shack and was rewarded with a bullet to the head. Another came in, then a second and a third. Each of them received the same fate. Trey was down to his final bullet and he knew he wouldnt be able to hold off the coming horde. He knew what had to be done. He pointed the gun to his head.
Not while Im alive he whispered under his breath.
But suddenly, Trey caught sight of something strange standing in the doorway- a pair of glowing red eyes. Trey made eye contact with the creature. He could not break it. He felt transfixed to the spot.
Pull the trigger dammit he whispered to himself.
He couldnt. Something seemed to be hold back. He wanted to end this all without any pain but his finger froze around the trigger. The creature with the glowing red eyes stepped into the shack and staggered over to Trey, not breaking eye contact with him. Trey could not even blink. A hot tear broke away from his right eye and slipped down his cheek. The creature was within arms length. It grabbed him by the shoulders and edged its face closer and closer to Treys.
No please not like this!
The creature opened its jaws wide before sinking its teeth into the side of Treys neck in a gory spray.
Ahhhhhhhhhh! Trey screamed and awoke with a start. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavily. He felt around his neck with his hands then looked at his surroundings. He was back in his room, back in Arc Island. He got out of his bed and trudged over to his bedroom window, which gave a full view of Arc Island. He gazed at the scenery, thinking about what just happened.
I need to stop drinking . he whispered to himself then sighed heavily.
Chapter II- Contraband
The fiery light of dawn slowly crept over the horizon. Trey had been sitting at his windowsill, admiring the view until morning. He wiped the sleep from his eyes then glanced at his clock hanging over his bed. It was 6:25 AM. He decided to get dressed, rummaging through the piles of clothing that littered his bedroom floor. His room wasnt exactly the lap of luxury but it was manageable, especially since it was more peaceful compared to the congested infected barracks.
Trey eventually found what he wanted- his Red Halo uniform and his armband made especially for the infected. He laid them over his unmade bed then strode over to a piece of equipment that rested on his cluttered study table. It was a radio, a highly advanced one, about the size of a backpack, capable of intercepting, sending and recording any radio messages within a thousand mile radius. It was plugged into a GPS system and was known as a GTPS- global transmitting and positioning system. His humble abode was actually a newly constructed communications shack for the island. He was permitted to live there and be a Red Halo officer despite being an infected and due to having previous military experience with radio operations.
He checked the GTPS for any recorded messages. A yellow light flashed on the controls- there were none. There never were. Trey then promptly took a shower and dressed into his uniform, but decided to leave his gasmask behind- he wouldnt need it. He exited his room and out onto the grassy hill that surrounded his house, while holstering his custom Glock 22. He shut his door behind him then strolled over to the village. By then the sun hung shining over the horizon. Trey made his way across any open field of tall grass then up a winding dirt road lined with old wooden fences. A cool breeze picked up and blew across the fields. Just then Trey caught sight of two young boys fighting down the road. He ran over to them and saw that they were fighting over a shiny object. The older looking of the two shoved the younger ones head into the dirt while triumphantly holding the object in the air.
Trey saw what it was. It was a gun. He quickly snatched it from the boys grasp then broke up the fight. The two boys sat panting heavily and glaring at each other.
Where the hell did you get this? Trey asked them gravely.
He stole it off the Albatross! the younger boy accused the older boy.
No I didnt! I found it in my dads room! the older boy retorted.
I dont care who took it, Trey cut in, scowling, Just get out of here before I get pissed.
The two boys got up and ran into the field of tall grass, only to resume fighting. Trey paid them no attention and continued his way to the village. He examined the weapon he had confiscated. It was a genuine Smith and Wesson 500 revolver. He popped the bullet chamber open, it was fully loaded. Kids these days, he thought, pocketing the firearm.
Trey finally reached the village gates. Two other Red Halo officers sat on stools opposite each other, playing cards on a battered old coffee table. One of them turned to face Trey.
Oh, hey, Trey, the officer greeted with a sleepy look, I dont think I need to tell you this, you know the precautions. Just dont go about spreading what you have.
Ill be careful, Bob. Trey assured the officer. Playing cards this early?
Its never too early. Bob said with a grin and continued with his game. Go fish, mate, he said to his opponent.
Trey continued his way into the village, which was already starting to grow loud and lively as it always was. The village was a melting pot of different cultures. It was filled with people from all walks of life and was filled some rather interesting folk.
Good morning, officer. A lady greeted Trey as she walked by him.
Same to you. he said.
Trey made a stop by an African vendor who had just opened up his shop. The shopkeeper turned to face him and a wide smile spread across his face.
Ah, ma bobyc, how far? the man greeted him and shook Treys hand vigorously.
I dey manage. Trey struggled to speak the little pidgin he knew.
No worry, you want to buy something? Eh, see nah, I no get to prepare my fish. I beg, come back small time and you go enjoy well-well.
What? What the heck are you uh I want buy some roast plantain. Please. Trey felt awkward trying to speak to the man, whose name was Solo Okeke, some poor sod whod drifted all the way from Nigeria.
Solo collected a piece of plantain that was roasting on a grill nearby and handed it to Trey. He handed Solo some coins and went on his way, biting off a piece of the plantain.
The zombie hunters ship was due to arrive that day so he quickly made his way out of the village and towards the docks area. The SS Albatross had already docked and its cargo was already being unloaded. A mound of crates rested on the pier and Trey made his way towards it, finishing the last of his snack. A hulking, large man supervised the young sailors that carefully unloaded the precious cargo. Trey paced over to him and greeted him with a smile.
Daren, he said, good to see you!
The man was heavily built, with signs of old age etched into his face, a balding scalp and a short white beard and mustache. He grinned and chuckled heartily.
Nice to see ya too, lad, his voice was deep and gruff, hows the new job at the shack?
Peaceful, Trey remarked, Nothing wrong with it, to be honest. So, anything good today?
Ah! Ocourse! Daren said. The crew got something special today.
What is it?
Daren reached into one of the crates and pulled out a handful of items- a book, two magazines and a CD case.
The Crawler Survival Guide by Bax Mrooks? Trey observed. Hah! They should have named it the Crawler Survival Guide.
Aye, indeed. Agreed Daren. But Ive got some uhh interesting magazines here and a mint condition copy of Resident Evil.
How did you manage to get these? Trey asked, grabbing the Resident Evil copy.
Ask those hunters, theyre the ones that found it. So what are ya buyin?
Ill take one of the magazines and how much for the Resident Evil copy?
Whats your offer?
Trey thought about this for a moment, and then pulled out the Smith and Wesson revolver from his pocket. He knew what he did wasnt exactly right but he couldnt let those items go to waste, especially the magazines which would be promptly burned.
Is this enough?
More than enough! Daren chuckled. So which will it be, Naughty Grandmas or Playboy?
Alright, so hows about we hit the pub tonight? Daren suggested.
Fair enough. Trey agreed and hid the purchase under his coat.
Outbreak Survivor
Posts: 75
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #1 on:
December 21, 2009, 09:10:21 am »
Damn 20,000 characters limit >
Chapter III- Massacre
Trey strolled down the islands southern beach, gazing out at the sea and the islands defence walls. The sun was slowly beginning to set as it sank lower and lower into the horizon. Trey glanced around at the beach. There were a few children playing by the waters edge- nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he swiftly turned around to see who it was. It was Daren.
Still up for pub? Daren asked.
Of course, Trey assured him, I still havent managed to outdrink you The GTPS never receives anything, anyways. What are you going to do about your son?
Ah! The wee lad. One of the neighbors agreed to look after him. Hell be fine. As long as he doesnt kill her.
Still has quite the fire burning in him, huh?
Aye, hell make a fine addition to this island when hes allowed to hold a gun. Anyways, Ill be off now. Oh and its Corins 20th birthday today.
Ill be sure to bring him something.
With that, the two parted and Trey continued his patrolling the beach until it was dusk. He headed over to his new home on the island. Eventually, it grew dark and the few street lamps scattered across the island lit up. Trey pondered on what he would get for Corin, a member of Darens former zombie hunter team.
Trey reached his home, went in and washed his face. He then picked out a packet of cigarettes from under his bed and placed it in a small box along with some folded pages torn out of from his Playboy magazine. It was a small gift, but Trey knew Corin was a massive pervert and would greatly appreciated the pictures.
He then made his way to the infected barracks area and to the pub. The pub was lit by several oil lamps hanging from the ceilings and it was a quaint little place that smelled strongly of alcohol. A rather big crowd had assembled there and were gathered around the birthday boy, Corin, who was chugging down a bottle of beer that had only recently come off the Albatross. Alcohol was hard to come by and was rather expensive on the island until a few months before when Solo Okeke had shown people how to tap palm wine from palm trees, otherwise known as kaikai to him.
Trey found Daren. They both took seats, listening to the zombie hunter crews boasting about their adventures in the wastelands. The bartender, an elderly man with rotting black teeth greeted them with a toothy grin.
Ah, so what will it be tonight? he asked them huskily.
A beer. Trey ordered.
Piss tastes like piss, lad. Ill have a scotch.
The evening went by peacefully until eventually it was lights out time. Everyone headed home and the crowd thinned out until the bar was devoid of life. Trey staggered home, half drunk, after bidding Daren farewell.
Eventually he stumbled into his house and crashed into his bed and almost fell asleep until he saw a green light flash from the GTPS. Trey pulled himself out of his drunken stupor and swiftly checked the device. It was the message light- the machine had received a transmission while he was gone. Trey pressed the play button on the recorder and the radio fizzled for a moment until a voice began to speak.
* This is Alpha Team, awaiting orders! *kshhhhhh* USS Cerberus here, Captain Neil speaking, what is your position? *kshhhhh* Outside the insertion point, shall we move in? *ksshhhhh* Negative! Stand by for further instruction. *kshhhhhhh*
The recording ended. Trey froze for a moment, taking in what he had just heard. He strapped the GTPS onto his back and burst out the front door. He dashed across the field, intent on reaching the Argus Research Campus. He was halfway there when the machine started to beep. It began to fizzle again.
*kshhhhhh* This is USS Cerberus, we are commencing bombardment, Over! Lets waste the fuckers! *kshhh*
And then it came, an ear splitting explosion from the western sea wall, illuminating the island and sending pieces of debris catapulting into the air. Trey locked stared at where the explosion had come from, dumbfounded. Another one ripped out, this time blowing half the sea wall into thousands of pieces. The suddenness of what happened caused Trey to fall back in shock. What had just happened? He thought. Following this explosion was a long chorus of gunfire that sounded from the beach area. The Red Halo officers guarding the western sea wall began to fire at an unknown enemy until another explosion blew the last of the defenders into oblivion.
Trey managed to get up and brush the dirt off his uniform. He was about to break into a run when another Red Halo officer ran up to him.
The islands under attack! Go! Sound the alarm and get everyone to the shelters! he said.
Trey stared at the red lens of his gasmask, slightly dazed from the explosion. (and the booze)
Now, dammit! the officer thrust him aside and ran off towards the beach, followed by several others, all armed with AR-15 assault rifles.
Trey struggled to get up. He gathered his senses and ran towards a guard post by the infected barracks. The post was empty, but Trey could see that the inhabitants of the barracks area had been stirred by the explosions. They began to walk outside their houses, curious as to what was going on. Trey entered the guard post and sounded the alarm. A loud, mournful siren sounded all over the island. The citizens of the barracks fell into a panic. He pushed the gates aside and entered the area, drawing his pistol, just as another explosion echoed in the distance and lit up the sky.
Everyone to the shelters! he ordered. Now!
People began to run in the direction indicated by a green street sign towards the safe zones. Trey helped some of them, especially those with children. Suddenly a familiar voice called out to him.
Trey! the deep voice of a man called out. Over here!
It was Daren, standing amidst the chaos and confusion. He ambled over to Trey, pushing aside some people.
Daren! Trey called then went over to him. I need you to get to the safe zones, the island is under attack!
DAMN THE SAFE ZONE! Daren swore. I cant find Oliver!
Shit look, just stick with me and well find him, alright? But we need to help these people to safety.
Daren held an exasperated look but grudgingly agreed. They ushered people over to the safe zones until the barracks emptied out. Daren rushed into his house and came out armed with a Winchester rifle. Trey hoped he wouldnt have to use it. They kept a look out for Darens son until they decided that he must be with his babysitter at the safe zone. They just started to follow after the long line of panicked civilians until the whirring sound of a helicopter was heard. Trey searched the sky and found the source of the sound, an Apache gunship hovering above the barracks, flying towards the line of people.
Daren and Trey stared at in shock. The island did not have any Apache helicopters. Where did this one come from? Suddenly and without warning, the helicopter hovered near the line of people, before unleashes a deadly barrage of machine gun fire on them. Treys eyes widened, stunned at what was happening. The bullets from the helicopter cut down the villagers, butchering them before Treys eyes. They fell likes flies, screaming in horror as their friends and family were torn to pieces by bullets.
No! Daren roared in rage and aimed his rifle up at the helicopter, firing at it continuously. Trey did the same with his pistol, until they both ran out of bullets and began to reload.
They stopped their reload half way, because a Red Halo officer came flying down the street at top speed with his gas mask off, holding a panicked look. Before Trey could ask him what was going on, his chest exploded in a spray of red blood as he was shot from behind. He fell face flat, dead.
What the fu- Trey said but was cut off as more gunshots flew in their direction. He dove into a nearby house while Daren stood outside shooting at the attackers. Get in here, you old idiot!
Daren grunted in frustration as he ran out of bullets once again. He joined Trey in the house. They were in a darkened kitchen, with plates and tableware smashed on the floor.
Theyre fucking soldiers! Daren managed to say between his breaths. Goddamn soldiers!
What the hell? Trey asked in confusion.
Gunshots sounded outside. A hail of bullets came thundering through the houses wooden wall.
Crap! Trey crouched down and took shelter under a table. Daren followed after. We need to get out of here! Follow me!
Bah! I aint leavin until I get a shot at those bastards!
Daren, stop being an asshole!
Dammit! Daren swore before giving in and following Trey out of the house.
They heard footsteps coming form the kitchen as they tore climbed out of an open window and into a small garden. Beyond the garden was the open field, to which they retreated and hid under the tall grass.
This is a cowards way out! Daren said, Lets go and fight!
Trey ignored him for a moment and but instead surveyed what he could see of the island. The moon hung like a sickle blade in sky. He could see the line of dead villagers trailing up towards the safe zone, but averted his gaze from it, feeling sick. The apache helicopter hovered around the island, bringing death to its inhabitants, occasionally firing missiles. The sound of screaming and death flooded Treys senses. Hot tears escaped him and flowed down his cheeks before falling to the grass below. Daren was also quietly weeping for his son .
After what seemed like hours of waiting, the GTPS strapped to Treys back began to fizzle again.
*kshhhh* This is Bravo Team, we have reached the insertion point. *kshhhh* Alpha Team we are advancing towards the A.R.C *kshhhhh* Hell yeah! Damn these little bastards go down fast! *kshhhh* This is USS Cerberus, take as many prisoners as you can, kill all infected. Burn the bodies. *kshhhh* Affirtmative! *kshhhh* Hahaha! Woooooot! *kshhhhh* Delta Squad, cease this behavior at once! *kshhhhh* Oh well alright *kshhhhhh* We have Arthur Adams! I repeat we have Arthur Adams! *kshhhhh* Excellent, now bring all the other scientists back alive *kshhhhhh*
Trey pressed the interception button on the GTPS immediately and spoke into the transmitter.
Who the hell are you people!? What do you want!? he cried.
Silence followed.
*kshhhhh* Who is this? Which one of you idiots are playing with the radio again? Hello? *kshhhhhh*
Trey fell back, helpless. Daren placed a hand on his shoulder.
Whats wrong, laddie? he asked softly.
This is my fault, Trey muttered between sobs, I was supposed to watch the radio.
Both fell silent for several minutes. The screams of the dying and the gunfire ended. They surveyed the scene, several armed men in military uniforms were marching through the infected barracks, finishing off any survivors. They set the buildings ablaze and began to pile the corpses up.
*kshhhh* This is Bravo Team, all hostiles have been eliminated *kshhhhh*
Those words hit Trey like a stone; he began to sob more than ever, only stopping because Daren had. The tall grass near them rustled. Both of them sprang into alert. They aimed their weapons towards the source and they could make out the dim outline of a woman trudging through the grass.
Hey! Trey whispered loudly. Over here!
The woman glanced around her before finally spotting Trey and Daren. She stumbled over to them, clutching at a bloody wound in her belly. She was dressed like on of the Red Halo scientists. She also held some sheets of paper in her other hand.
Please she whispered then fell on her knees. Trey and Daren went over to help her. Take this. She said, handing them the papers, They are after it. She lay on the grass , staring into the eternal sky, her blue eyes moist with tears. There is a pair of boats on the southern beach, she struggled to speak, A team of zombie hunters have already taken one. There is one left. Go... Eventually, the light faded from her eyes and she breathed her final breath before passing away quietly.
What a waste of life Daren mumbled and sighed heavily.
Trey clasped the papers in his hands, he could not see what was written on them. He stood up with a hard look on his face.
Lets get out of here. He managed to say, wishing he didnt have to leave the place he loved so dearly. But lets take down as many as those bastards as we can.
The pair made their way out of the fields and towards the infected barracks until they were caught by surprise. A man popped out of the tall grass, wielding an AK-47. Trey and Daren froze, but the man did not fire.
Trey, my boy! Jesus Christ of Nazareth! Wetin dey happen for you?
Trey recognized that voice. It was Solo Okeke.
I go kill these bastards! Solo said, seething with hatred.
Can you use that gun?
You donno? I fight for Biafra when I still dey for Nigeria.
Come on, buddy, lets get out of here.
Ehhhh, ok.
They entered a house and peeped out one of its broken windows. There were several men dressed in military uniforms standing around a man kneeling on the street. Trey squinted to see better in the dark but what he saw astonished him even more. The soldiers had the US army insignia on their sleeves.
Youre right. Theyre fucking soldiers. He whispered to Daren.
Solo held his assault rifle tightly, breathing heavily.
One of the soldiers aimed a pistol at their prisoners head.
Look man we dont have to do this! pleaded one of the younger soldiers. Their prisoner lay crying on the floor, begging them not to kill him. But alas, his please were in vain and the soldier fired a shot that silenced him forever. The man lay still, a pool of blood forming around his head.
Solo Trey whispered. Solo? he looked to his right. Solo was gone.
After a few seconds, he heard a guttural cry ring out from outside. Solo went charging at the soldiers, his weapon firing at full force. The soldiers were caught off guard. They fell to the ground, holes blown into their bodies.
Aw, hell! Save some for me! Daren said and went charging after Solo.
One of the soldiers had survived. Daren and Solo were carrying him off towards the southern beach. Trey caught up to them.
What the hell are you doing!? he asked in confusion.
Taking prisoners, lets go! Daren said,
They ran through a forest before finally reaching the beach. Soldiers were on their trail. They would occasionally fire shots back at their pursuers, lighting up the darkness for a brief moment. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and the smell of salty water filled Treys senses. He spotted a lone boat floating aimlessly near the shore. The three of them charged towards it, carrying their prisoner, until a shot rang out and Solo fell to the floor.
Solo! Trey cried and went over to him. Four bullets had pierced his gut compared to their prisoners simple wound to the leg. More of the soldiers were coming after them. They didnt have much time.
My friend, go! Solo said, panting for breath. God will protect me.
Trey shrugged, Whatever you say, bro.
Daren started up the boat and Trey hopped in, accidentally sitting on the prisoner. The boat rumbled loudly and sped off, sending a blast of water out the back area.
The island slowly grew smaller and smaller, shrinking into the distance. They sailed on in total darkness with only the moonlight to guide their way. A sigh of relief escaped Treys lips as he collapsed onto the floor of the boat and eventually passed out.
Outbreak Survivor
Posts: 75
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #2 on:
December 21, 2009, 09:11:24 am »
Chapter 4- The Wasteland
Treys eyes slid open, greeted by a blast of sunlight that blinded him momentarily.
Daren? he called out, shielding his gaze from the sun with his hands.
No answer. His eyes adjusted to the light and he gazed around him. He was still laying in the boat. It was daylight, the relaxing sound of seagulls echoed in the distance along with the gentle sounds of waves breaking against shore. He got up; the boat was tied to a wooden pier, a long sandy beach stretching from its sides. Daren and the prisoner they had taken was nowhere to be seen. He climbed onto the pier and drew his pistol, making sure it was loaded. His footsteps echoed eerily as he inched his way up the peer towards a shabby wooden shack at the end of it.
There were various old fishing supplies packed by the side of the shack, including a rusted anchor. The door to the shack lay on the ground before it, broken of its hinges. A yellow poster was plastered onto its window with the words Evacuation Point written in black. Trey immediately realized where he was and began to feel a little worried. He looked beyond the shack, a vast area of countryside expanded before him, dotted with clumps of trees with a road running along the coast. In the distance, Trey could make out what looked like a town near some hills. He took a step inside the shack and peered inside. As he did, something was suddenly pressed against his head. He froze.
Daren? he said after a moments pause.
Aye, lad, ya were expectin me to just leave ya there werent ya? Daren answered, pointing his Winchester rifle away from Treys head.
Huh? No! I just where are we?
Ya dont remember do ya? Daren asked quizzically. Were next to Buckton, just a few miles from where I found ya during-
Dont! Trey cut in, suppressing a surge of horrible memories. Where is the prisoner?
That bloody bastard! Daren spat on the floor near him. Ive tied him to a tree. Hopefully a berserker will get him. He deserves it.
You did what? Um, can you take me to him; I think we better ask him a few questions first.
Daren lead Trey towards a thicket of trees nearby and sure enough, their prisoner was there, one of his legs tied to a tree by a length of rope. His face was pale, his eyes weary and he looked about the same age as Trey. He sat on the ground, a stream of blood trickled down his leg from where he was hit. He watched Trey expectantly.
Whats your name? Trey asked him.
Hes John Shepherd, Daren cut in, I saw his nametag.
John kept staring at Trey.
Who sent you to attack Arc Island? And why?
John hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.
Im just obeying orders, he croaked weakly, and Im just a medic. I didnt kill anyone. I couldnt bring myself to do it, I swear, please dont-
Ya daft bastard, he didnt ask ya what you do he-
Daren! Trey cut in. Now answer me this time, who sent you and why?
John remained silent.
Ah, forget it, Trey, this wee sod aint worth it. Lets just leave him here.
Trey ignored Daren, but after several failed attempts to get John to talk, he gave up. He walked with Daren away from the grove and back to the shack.
The boy had some good stuff on him. Daren said as they entered the musty shack while gesturing to some items laid out on a table.
Trey saw that they were weapons: an MP5, a browning HP, two grenades, a combat knife and various other items taken off the soldier. Other than the weapons were ammo, a helmet, night vision goggles, ammo belts and a satchel filled with food tablets.
I saw a church nearby, Daren said, Im thinking we should go check it and take shelter there.
Isnt it good enough in here? Trey asked.
Daren gestured at the wide open door.
Not if something like a crawler can just walk in here any minute.
Good point, Trey agreed and picked up the MP5, so when are we going?
Trey and Daren armed themselves with the weapons they found. They traveled along an old road lined with trees until they reached their destination. The church was a rather imposing structure, two stories tall, a high steeple and made out of stone bricks that were slowly wearing away with time. Vines grew on the walls of the building, wrapping around every surface. The windows were boarded up and several rusting cars were parked outside the entrance. Trey and Daren made their way up to the entrance and paused.
Alrighty now, what do we do? Daren asked, cocking his Winchester rifle.
Just move in quickly, if theres any trouble then we get out as fast we can, Trey instructed, Ready?
Ok, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!
Bang! Daren kicked the churchs heavy doors open and they aimed their guns upwards, rushing in. They stopped and looked around. It was too dark to see anything, but the light from the entrance showed them enough to turn their stomachs. Bodies, hundreds of them, were packed on the benches, hunched over almost as if they died in prayer. The carpet leading up to the altar was strewn with corpses and crusty with dried blood. Blood coated almost every surface, even the walls. A heap of bodies were piled before the altar, some of their arms outstretched towards the large wooden crucifix of Jesus, as if they had died begging him to save them.
Jesus Daren muttered.
A sound came from behind them and they both turned to the entrance, weapons held at the ready. A figure appeared, dressed in black robes, a white crucifix running down the center. Its face was disfigured, the pale skin stretched tightly over its bony features. Both of its cheeks were missing, ripped away and revealing rows of rotten black teeth. It stared at Daren and Trey with empty eyes.
Suddenly, it opened its mouth wide, stretching its jaws to an inhuman degree before letting out an ear-piercing shriek
Trey covered his ears as the creatures jarring shriek cut across the air. The sheer power of it dazed him beyond belief. Everything in his field of vision became a blurry haze. He saw Daren drop to the floor screaming, his wails of agony but a distant cry in the midst of the colossal power of the howler. The scream stopped, but Trey could not hear anything but a distant ringing. He felt at his forehead, which smarted with pain. He tried to stand up, to fight, but he found himself weak and shell-shocked. He gazed around the dark gloom of the church. All the bodies that had been resting on the wooden benches slowly stirred in the darkness, coming to life, ready to feed.
They came from behind every hiding place, from every dark corner that could conceal them. Dozens of them, far too much for Daren and Trey to take on. The howler priest stretched its maw open, heaving heavily and preparing another shriek that would surely cause them to go unconscious. Trey heaved himself up, took careful aim with the MP5 and squeezed the trigger, blowing the priests head off in a burst of fine red mist. The howlers body slumped against the church doorway just as several more figures gathered around it, blocking any means of escape. They were trapped.
Daren! Trey called out to his comrade who lay motionless on the floor. Daren dammit get up!
He went over to Daren and shook him as hard as he could. Daren stirred slightly and his eyes opened up.
That was fucking loud he muttered.
Trey sat him. The dead had them cornered, there was no way out. Trey held the MP5 at the ready as Daren got up and cocked his Winchester rifle. One of the crawlers, a woman in a purple bathrobe, shuffled up to Trey, her arms outstretched. Trey pressed the barrel of the MP5 against her head and opened fire, tearing the top half of her skull off. She fell to the floor, dead, as more and more of the zombies came forth to claim Trey and Darens flesh.
Daren shot the reanimated body of an old man in the head and he slumped back against a drove of eager crawlers who were making their way towards them.
Fuck this! Trey screamed and let loose a hail of bullets towards the coming crowd.
Daren fired wildly at the undead, missing their heads. For every one of them he successfully killed, several more seemed to take its place. Trey and Daren stood back to back, holding off the crawlers, rewarding any one of them that dared to come close with a face full of bullets.
Its too damn dark! Trey complained.
Ive got this un! Daren said, drew a browning HP from his belt and fired at the ceiling. The old, rickety architecture broke away as bullets smashed into the ceiling, tearing holes into it and allowing sunlight to spear the darkness.
Trey and Daren moved into a spotlight, giving them light. Around them was still darkness, however. Pure, suffocating darkness. The dead emerged from it, reaching out to them, eager for the coming meal. Trey caught site of a dark shape sprinting from behind the ancient pillars. The dark figure suddenly came plowing through the crowd of crawlers, tossing them out of the way and knocking them down. It was a morbidly obese man wearing a hospital patients gown stained with crimson blood and ancient vomit. The rotting fat in his gut flopped up and down as he ran. Ran. He was running, Trey realized.
Berserker! Trey warned Daren. He squeezed the MP5s trigger and the clicking sound of his ammunition running dry echoed through the church. Shit!
The fat man was upon him, pinning him to the ground with his huge belly. Trey whimpered in agony as he prepared himself for the bite. However, it didnt come. The fat berserker slammed its fists into Treys chest, knocking the air out of him. It began its sadistic torture ritual.
Daren slammed the stock of his rifle into the berserkers head, to no avail. He gave up and pointed the barrel at its forehead. Before he could pull the trigger, a crawler grabbed him from behind and dragged him towards its gaping mouth full of rotten teeth. Daren smacked the creature with his rifle, using it like a club as more and more of the crawlers grabbed at him.
Ya whoresons, that the best you can do!? he taunted the unhearing undead as he bludgeoned them with the rifle.
Trey could feel the life leaving him as he received punch after punch from the fat berserker. He closed his eyes, hoping the torture would end soon. Strangely, it did. He opened his eyes to see a knife sticking into its forehead as Daren heaved the fat mass off of Trey. He rolled the berserker off of Trey and they both got up, looking around them. The undead were still coming; there must have been at least 50 in the church. They groaned mournfully, inching their way to the living.
Window! Daren cried out as he sprinted towards a boarded up window.
Trey followed him, but suddenly tripped over something. He fell against one of the wooden benches and looked down at his legs, where a legless crawler was gnawing at his boot. He pulled his leg free and sent a kick thundering against the pathetic creatures face, crushing its skull. He got up. Withered arms of the undead reached out to him. Sweat pouring down his face and adrenaline flooding his veins, he charged at group of the crawlers, knocking them down and forcing his way through. Daren was desperately clawing at the boards of the window, stripping the improvised barricades away.
Trey pushed him aside, reloaded his gun and shot an opening through the boards. Daren smashed through the remaining of the window. They leapt out of the church and onto solid ground. They both lay still for a moment then turned to face the undead that had gathered at the window, staring sadly at their lost prize. Daren burst out into hearty laughter as he got up, intent on getting out of the churchyard.
The racket we made in there ought ta be heard by anything nearby. Lets bloody hell
Daren was caught in mid sentence. He gazed at the surrounding churchyard, which was crawling with the undead that had been attracted by the gunfire. Trey tried to say something.
Alright, reload and uh ok were fucked.
Posts: 530
'Cuz they rapin' errbody out here.
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #3 on:
February 09, 2010, 04:34:10 pm »
No more?
Quote from: Jenny
Oh B-Chan, you're so dreamy.
--Pappa Cricco--
Cricco was here
Apprentice Zombie Hunter
Posts: 12176
Viking Selfie!
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #4 on:
February 10, 2010, 06:04:14 am »
*drops to his knees jaw hanging around the belly*
Voted most likely to hug.
Apprentice Zombie Hunter
Posts: 18767
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #5 on:
February 10, 2010, 06:35:57 am »
Quote from: B-Chan on February 09, 2010, 04:34:10 pm
No more?
Spirrus' last post: 21 December 2009, 15:11:24. I highly doubt there will be more.
Quote from: mudmonkey
Cheez is fuckin hawt with teh boobehs.
Quote from: Sammich!
Cheez is also a raptor...pirate. A raptor pirate. Playing chess.
WARNING- If you send me a PM with no subject, I WILL NOT REPLY.
Outbreak Survivor
Posts: 75
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #6 on:
February 19, 2010, 08:47:28 pm »
I'm sorry, I'd write more but I'm horrendously lazy.
Not really a green haired teenage girl
Apprentice Zombie Hunter
Posts: 4282
Dreaming of green hair
Re: ~Breakdown~
Reply #7 on:
February 23, 2010, 02:55:06 pm »
"One of the crawlers, a woman in a purple bathrobe"
Strange. I remember that in the THZ comic, there was a zombie like that.
The one that broke Katie's fall.
Quote from: Stan on January 23, 2011, 11:40:21 pm
Ive gained an all-new respect for BB this day. LET IT BE KNOWN!
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Highlighters are an effective marketing tool, no matter what your needs may be. At a very low cost per impression, these items are a cost-effective way to stay within your established budget while delivering a practical representation of your brand. They are especially great for law firms, where lawyers and adjudicators can use a vivid hue to mark important information in a book or document for them to easily refer back to in the future. Available in a wide variety of colors and styles, people often prefer to have several readily accessible in an array of colors to help them differentiate between particular kinds of information. Consider handing out a different color at each event in a series, thereby encouraging higher attendance because attendees will keep returning to collect them all.


text:
Leccy Tech Honda's electric motorcycle concepts have, until now, been utterly bizarre – such as the U3-X. But in a break from the norm, Honda's decided to go with the norm by designing two pretty ordinary looking e-scooters.
Honda's electric take on the 1950's Cub, called the EV-Cub
The EV-Cub is a battery-powered interpretation Honda's own Cub motorcycle, quite possibly one of the most popular forms of motorised transport known to man - with over 60m units sold since production began back in 1958.
The updated Cub features two-wheel drive and has electric motors inside the hubs of both its front and rear wheels.
Honda's also cast the EV-Cub's frame from die cast aluminium, while the bike's lithium-ion battery is centrally mounted.
Honda also unveiled the EVE-Neo at the ongoing Tokyo Motor Show
Rather more conventional looking is the EVE-Neo, which is powered by just one electric motor.
Honda hasn't confirmed plans to manufacture the EV-Cub or EVE-Neo. ®


text:
|ETHNIC PORN We all like them ethnic babes. They are hotter than hell and willing to do filthy, naughty things for us! Post all ethnic porn videos here. Asian, Latina, Black, Indian and other ethnic babes are welcomed here.
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text:
This year is the 40th anniversary of the Endangered Species Act, America's landmark law to prevent the extinction of our most at-risk plants and animals. In the Bay Area, we can appreciate the protections this farsighted act has provided for our native wildlife and how preserving their habitat contributes to our quality of life.
Just last month, local agencies began the environmental review process for a series of fish passage projects that will allow steelhead trout to return to more than 10 miles of historic spawning and rearing habitats in upper Alameda Creek — for the first time in half a century.
This regionally significant stream restoration has been driven by Endangered Species Act protections for steelhead trout, as have similar efforts to restore steelhead and iconic coho salmon in other Bay Area streams such as Codornices Creek, Suisun Creek, Napa River, Lagunitas Creek, San Francisquito Creek and the Guadalupe River.
The Endangered Species Act is one of our most successful environmental laws and the best tool we have for protecting biodiversity. The act's purpose is to stabilize populations of imperiled animals and plants in the wild and bring about their full recovery, at which point they can be removed from the endangered list.
The Endangered Species Act is the main reason we now have abundant and healthy populations of brown pelicans and peregrine falcons in the Bay Area. Both these species have rebounded as a direct result of federal protection and the subsequent banning of the pesticide DDT. Thanks to the Endangered Species Act, bald eagles recovered enough to come off the protected list in 2007. Bald eagles began nesting in the Bay Area in the 1990s and now regularly breed at half a dozen lakes around the Bay.
Endangered Species Act protections have also limited massive urban sprawl in the Bay Area that otherwise would have eliminated much of the remaining habitat for the region's distinctive and highly imperiled reptiles and amphibians.
The brightly colored San Francisco garter snake and Alameda whipsnake, the wetlands-dependent California red-legged frog, and the boldly patterned California tiger salamander would probably have disappeared from Bay Area habitats without the protections of the act.
A full 99 percent of the more than 1,400 plants and animals protected under the act have been saved from extinction, and hundreds of them are on the road to recovery. The longer a species is protected under the act, the more likely it is to be recovering.
The protected species most likely to be recovering are those for which areas of critical habitat have been designated; a formal recovery plan has been prepared; and conservation money has been invested, all actions that result from federal protections.
The first 40 years of the act make it pretty clear that protection and recovery of our most at-risk wildlife is a good investment that brings additional benefits such as clean water, protected open space, recreational and educational opportunities and tourism revenue. On this anniversary, Bay Area residents should voice their support for the Endangered Species Act and oppose congressional efforts to weaken it.
Jeff Miller is director of the Alameda Creek Alliance in Niles.


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In respect and solidarity with the tragedy in Miami of the hit and run of Christophe Le Canne, Time's Up is hosting a tribute ride in NYC.
Miami Solidarity Ride
Sunday, February 7th, 2010
Grand Army Plaza, Brooklyn
Summary: Tribute ride for Miami and their recent response to the tragic death of Christophe Le Canne.
On 1/17/2010, Christophe Le Canne, 44, was killed in a bike lane from behind, reportedly by a hit and run drunk driver and delayed emergency response in Key Biscayne, Florida. On 1/24/2010 1000's of Miami cyclists came out on a memorial ride in Christophe's name. Now is your opportunity to pay tribute to Miami for their brave action during their time of grief.
A saying of Christophe's is 'The Journey is the thing!'. So we will visit ghosts bikes, roadways where there are, used to be, or could be bike lanes, and maybe water or bridges on our travels.
The day after our ride the suspect will have his first hearing.
Please see some details about this case:
Tragedy in Miami
Miami DWI Death Galvanizes Cyclists in South Florida
Christophe Le Canne-Ghostbikes
Bicyclists Want Change On The Rickenbacker
CBS news article


text:
I've found that while for the most part, the Georgian language is something completely different from anything I've ever studied before, there are a lot of random cognates with English, and even more so, with Spanish. Here is a list of the words I've learned so far (Romanized) that are cognates with other languages that I know.
Georgian Spanish English
Biblioteka Biblioteca Library
Moda Moda Fashion
Istoria Historia History
Matematikas Matematicas Mathematics
Kimika Quimica Chemistry
Fabrika Fabrica Factory
Inglisuri Ingles English
Ghvino Vino Wine
Computori Computadora Computer
Chai Té Tea (ok, this is not a cognate, but we call Indian tea "chai"
In English.)
Torti Torta Cake
Televisori Televisor Television
Biologia Biología Biology
Aut'obusi Autobús Bus
Klasi Clase Class
Skola Escuela School
Kaphe café café
Bari Bar Bar
Politsia Policia Police
T'ualet'i Inodoro Toilet
Parki Parque Park
Muzeumi Museo Museum
Rest'orani Restaurante Restaurant
Ophisi Oficina Office
Banki Banco Bank
Es ésta This
Kat'a Gato Cat
Mobiluri movil mobile/cell phone
Kontsert'I concerto Concert
Konphrentsia Conferencia Conference
Eqskursia Exurción Excursion
Pikniki picnic picnic
T'aqsi Taxi Taxi
Ena Lengua Language/Tongue
And of course, every language has its false cognates; here are some that I especially like
Deda- Mother
Mama- Father
Bitchi- boy
Chika- cup
Kino- cinema (this comes from Russian I think)
I wish I could say that all these cognates help me speak Georgian, but unfortunately Georgian verbs are like some kind of alien language to me, long strings of consonants that don't belong together and which are conjugated in a manner that still mystifies me despite having been explained several times now. To give you some idea of what I'm up against, I'll conjugate the verb "to like" in the present tense for you.
Momts'ons Mogvts'ons
Mogts'ons Mogts'ont
Mots'ons Mots'ont


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WriteStarr Information Services™
WriteStarr Information Services is Mike Starr… Mike Starr is WriteStarr Information Services. I'm a highly-skilled and experienced technical writer and I provide all types of communication services including:
|© Copyright
2007, Mike Starr; all rights reserved.
WriteStarr and WriteStarr Information Services are trademarks of WriteStarr Information Services; all rights reserved.
This site is best viewed with a web browser, your eyes, the beverage of your choice, a cat on your lap, the dog at your feet and at least one significant other nearby.
I try to make sure it works well with all browsers. Sometimes I screw up. If you see an instance in your browser that looks wrong, let me know and if you know what I did wrong, feel free to tell me. I'm always grateful for pointers.


text:
This is another photo from my cousin Erin O'Donnell. From the style of her dress I would estimate that the date of this pictures is in the late 1890's. Bridget would have been about thirty to thirty five at that time. To me she appears to be pregnant.
I am thinking that the children in the photo are top left to right, Catherine born 1893, Thomas born 1891 or John born 1896, Norah born1896 and Mary born 1898. If she were pregnant that would be her son Richard born 1900.
My grandfather Thomas would have been about eight at the time the photo was taken and John would have been three to four. I think it is Thomas my grandfather. Mary looks like she is about to escape.
Erin told me that the Dowd's did not take very many pictures, I am glad that trait escaped me.


text:
A path scarcely traversed
Last Activity: November 5th, 2013 7:12 PM
About Me
- About Ito_Igami
- Biography
- Son to a African-American/Dominican Father and a
Japanese/Indian Mother by way of Strausbourg France. Not sure what that makes me but I consider myself to be predominately Black. As the youngest of 5 children my siblings often refer to me as baby boy (Despite being 20 years old) but as a family oriented person I don't mind much. I am a native New Yorker Harlem bred and raised. I now reside on the outskirts of Atl , GA
I am a full time med-school student with a full time job as a Phlebotomist/Hematology/Oncological Lab Assistant. I am aspiring an Hematologist and Pediatric Oncologist and maybe a Cardiothoracic Surgeon (then again I don't want to be in med school for the rest of my life)
I stand about a cenimeter over 6 ft and i weigh 184 lbs 3% body fat. As a health nut my diet usually consist of baked fish chicken breast , steamed vegetables fresh fruit and lot of wheat grass. I really like to be in nearly perfect shape because no one wants to listen to an out of shape Doctor , Chicks don't dig fat guys (unless they are rich or famous)
and Mainly because a Martial Artist should always be in good shape. Fighting is a huge part of who I am. Naturally I am a very competitive person.
Boxing at the age of 4 , Kyokushin Karate at the age of 6 ,Judo at the at the age 11 and I am currently studying Muay Thai in hopes of getting it to the level of my Kyokushin. Unfortunately My schedule doesn't allow me to indulge my pugilistic streak as often as I want
I also like to party alot and have fun as often as I can as a club promoter I can get into nearly any Hot club in Atlanta and a few in Miami for free.I never smoke and I am not big on drinking only on new years and my Birthday. I am a great dancer I used to compete in dance competitions but I never placed higher than 2nd in any club competitions thanks to slanted crowds.
When I am not in school , working promoting or partying. I always make it a habit to do volunteer work. On my off days I really enjoy working to help the Homeless volunteering at the women and children's shelter or working with habitat for humanity. I am a strong believer in Karma so I usually go out of my way to treat people fairly which is
A strength and perhaps my biggest weakness especially here on PC.
I am full of pride and my ego is larger than any land mass you may have encountered. but I am probably one of the easiest people on this site to get along with. If there are 2 sayings that I try to live by they would be
1.The best of you are those who are most useful to humanity
2. Live each day as though you would live forever yet live each day as though you could die tomorrow.
well that is enough about me for now
- Interests
- Working out , sparring and volunteer work
- Location
- State of Euphoria
- Occupation
- Phlebotomist/Hematology/Oncological Lab Assistant/Club Promoter/psuedo-accountant/swordsman
- Nature
- Brave
- Favorite Pokémon
- The pokemon that never miss attacks and land a s#*t load of critical hits
- Paired with Maria SantosEGL Flying Gym Leader
Platinum FC 1462 2358 1141
Diamond FC 3265-2749-5597
Do not steal my gif ! Maria made this for me.
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Right, i tried to write something up to put in the record for people to read as they listen. I am tired and hungover. So it didn't come out very right you see. Can people try and fuk with it plees? any ideas for images to stick on it too? Remember, this represents forest to the record buying public, it is very important...
Thanks d x x x x
The record you have in your hands is the product of thousands of years work. Think about that as it spins and soothes your jaded ears. The bands on it have all interacted with The Forest at some point, they have all played there, washed dishes there, scrubbed the floors there, taken out the recycling there, partied there… The record is a double b side double a side, contained on one disc. The Forest is a collective arts space, funded by a volunteer powered vegetarian café. It was set-up in 2001 in a dusty corner of Edinburgh and spread like a plague through the town, it's now housed in a big ex-church in the centre of town. There's events on almost every night, all of these are free. Bands like you hear on this record might play. Bands like nothing you've ever heard before might play. You might see things you never dreamed possible. And you might see things you've only seen in your dreams. The Forest collective is made up of working groups, active on a non-hierarchical basis. Everyone can get involved. These working groups decided to make some vinyl as CDs were getting so passé and we wanted to push ourselves more, increase the sleep deprivation and therefore tighten the edge. It was a learning curve. But we got there. Loads of amazing music was submitted, lots of people listened to it and did the impossible job of filing it down into four tracks. At first it was going to be a 7". We were over-ambitious. Then it was going to be a 12", but we didn't really like that idea, so we came to a beautiful conclusion: ten inches. Then there was the sticky question of what to put on the inner circle. We wanted to send a message to everyone who had the fortune to get a record. So we made them all individually. Check it out. Get two and compare them. We have more to talk about, but let's do that in person. Enjoy.
The Forest, 3 Bristo Place, Edinburgh, EH1 1AL
http://www.theforest.org.uk - there's loads more music to listen to here
Record inner sheet
Records, publishing, shop etc.
Post Reply
4 posts • Page 1 of 1
Record inner sheet
Our big brother's got no heart,
when I get my chance I'm going to punch him in the nose, in the nose, in the nose
when I get my chance I'm going to punch him in the nose, in the nose, in the nose
Re: Record inner sheet
dan wrote:washed dishes there, scrubbed the floors there, taken out the recycling there
Lies!dan wrote:working groups, active on a non-hierarchical basis
Everything else is great, though.
Post Reply
4 posts • Page 1 of 1


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South of the border in the Irish Republic support for Sinn Fein has slipped back. The latest poll from Red C, in the Sunday Business Post, puts Sinn Fein on 16%, down from 19% in the previous poll, well behind Fine Gael on 32% and even behind Fianna Fail on 18%. Another Red C poll taken six weeks ago had Sinn Fein at a peak of 21% so the drop in support is actually 5% in the space of just 6 weeks.
Meanwhile north of the border, in Northern Ireland, Sinn Fein has also taken a big hit. It has presented itself as a party committed to 'an Ireland of equals' but it seems that in the world of Sinn Fein, as in George Orwell's Animal Farm, some people are more equal than others. The Fair Employment Tribunal ruled that Regional Development minister, Conor Murphy MLA, had discriminated again a Protestant applicant, Alan Lennon, and appointed Sean Hogan, a Roman Catholic, as chairman of Northern Ireland Water. The tribunal said that Conor Murphy had added new criteria in order to secure the appointment of Sean Hogan.
It also claimed that there was a pattern in the appointments made during the four years that Conor Murphy was in DRD. According to the FET, there was 'a material bias against the appointment of candidates from a Protestant background.' During that period a Roman Catholic applicant was at least twice as likely to be appointed as a Protestant candidate.
Indeed the figures for DRD for 2010-2011 show that 'of 57 Protestant applications for public appointment, only three were appointed. In the same period, nine out of 31 Catholic applicants were appointed.' The success rate for Roman Catholics was 29% and for Protestants just 5%. In that year a Roman Catholic applicant was six times more likely to be appointed than a Protestant and the number of Roman Catholic appointments was three times thenumber of Protestant appointments!
These facts show that while Sinn Fein talks about equality, under Sinn Fein control there was a persistent pattern of anti-Protestant discrimination in DRD. Actions speak louder than words and the actions of the former Sinn Fein minister speak very loudly.


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Runtime Revolution (RunRev) has ported its LiveCode for iOS software development environment to Android devices, with a pre-release version available this week. The product's build is intended to provide developers with a base for creating cross-platform mobile apps using the same code base, while taking advantage of the many OS-specific features on each device.
Also compliant with iOS, web and desktop operating systems, LiveCode is positioned as an iterative compile-free coding environment with the option to view changes in real time. RunRev confirms that the product will allow mobile programmers to take advantage of the native feature sets on both Android and iOS devices without the limitation of using only the basic functions on both platforms. Using a high-level language, with English-like syntax for writing code, the company says that this product can be used to create rich-media apps, powerful productivity apps for in-house use, and active prototypes for exploring and designing new innovations using fully functional apps.
"Currently, mobile platform developers have to redevelop their applications in order to deploy to both iOS and Android, as the two development paradigms, Objective-C and Java, are completely different environments," said Kevin Miller, RunRev CEO. "We're showing how easy it is to create full-featured cross device Mobile apps with our Sheepherder video on our YouTube channel. The challenge shows a developer creating an app in just 3 hours and 16 minutes, for both Android and iOS."
In addition to LiveCode for mobile devices, deployment packs include Windows desktops, Mac OS X desktops, Linux desktops, and popular web browsers on Windows, Mac, and Linux including Internet Explorer, Safari, Chrome, and Firefox.


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I've always liked Tim M. Berra's books, ever since, in college, I read his Evolution and the Myth of Creationism (1990), a wonderfully clear and succinct refutation of creationism. Berra focused mainly on young-earth creationism, since "intelligent design" wasn't really on the radar yet, although "intelligent design" proponents now like to give him a hard time about what is admittedly a shaky analogy between the human fossil record and the sequence of Corvette models. Lately, he's taken to biography, having written a similarly clear and succinct biography of Darwin, Charles Darwin: The Concise Story of an Extraordinary Man (2008)—just the ticket if the sight of Janet Browne's magisterial but bulky two volumes makes your arms ache in anticipation of holding them to read.
Berra's latest book is Darwin's Children: His Other Legacy (2013), which offers brief biographies of all ten of Charles and Emma's progeny, from luminaries such as George, Francis, and Horace to the short-lived Mary, Charles, and Anne, the apple of her father's eye. Discussing Leonard Darwin's work in economics, Berra writes of his 1897 book Bimetallism that, "It argued that the government ought to define the value of its monetary unit in terms of both metals [gold and silver], thus establishing a fixed rate of exchange between them." So far so good. But Berra adds, deliciously, "As Miss Prism says in The Importance of Being Earnest, 'When one has thoroughly mastered the principle of Bimetallism one has the right to lead an introspective life. Hardly before.'"
That reference to Oscar Wilde's greatest play reminded me of a silly project that I began and abandoned around the time of Ernst Mayr's death in 2005. Mayr, of course, was one of the greatest evolutionary biologists of the age, credited with the biological species concept, peripatric speciation, the foundations of modern philosophy of biology, and plenty besides. He was a prolific author, too, writing practically up until the year of his death—What Makes Biology Unique? was published in 2004. And he was a member of NCSE, naturally. It was sad, certainly, to hear of his death, but not entirely unexpected; he was born in 1904, after all. And my thoughts soon turned to what the inevitable posthumous appreciations would look like.
"The Importance of Being Ernst" sprang to mind as a headline for such appreciations—and with it, in one fell swoop, the project: rewriting Mayr's contributions to biology in the form of Wildean epigrams. A challenge? Sure, of course. A pointlessly silly challenge? That, too. A pointlessly silly but nevertheless attainable challenge? Well, I didn't find it so. Here's about as far as I managed to proceed with my self-inflicted task. Mayr's biological species concept, you'll recall, defines species as groups of interbreeding natural populations that are reproductively isolated from other such groups. Trying to render that as a Wildean epigram, I managed the following: "A species, my dear Marquis, is like an unhappy marriage: consisting of only creatures that breed with each other."
Fine, be that way; let's see if you can do better. Anyhow, it occurred to me that I didn't really know what—if anything—Wilde thought about Darwin. Born in 1854, he was educated (at Trinity College, Dublin, and Magdalen College, Oxford) in the 1870s, as Darwin's ideas were still percolating through the British intelligentsia. But my exiguous knowledge of Wilde's writing—limited to The Importance of Being Earnest and a handful of his other plays, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and a few of his short stories—didn't suggest that he was particularly interested in biology. Nor did Richard Ellman's 1988 biography (which I read hot off the press years ago, on a Greyhound bus between Boston and Columbus, Ohio, for reasons that needn't detain us here) offer any insight on that score.
Naturally, my first stop was Thomas F. Glick's What about Darwin? (2010), which, in the words of its Victorian subtitle, presents "all species of opinion from scientists, sages, friends, and enemies who met, read, and discussed the naturalist who changed the world." Reviewing it for Reports of the NCSE a while back, I described it as "simply a delightful book to browse through," in part because there are so many unlikely people to be found in it offering their views on Darwin. Marcus Garvey? Sherlock Holmes? Joseph Stalin? Yes, indeed. (But not, as I complained, Hilaire Belloc, who would have been worth including because his attack on H. G. Wells's exposition of evolution apparently prompted no less a figure than John Maynard Smith to study natural selection.)
Glick didn't disappoint me, quoting, from "The Critic as Artist" (1891), a passage in which Wilde writes:
The English mind is always in a rage. The intellect of the race is wasted in the sordid and stupid quarrels of second-rate politicians or third-rate theologians. It was reserved for a man of science to show us the supreme example of that "sweet reasonableness" of which [Matthew] Arnold spoke so wisely, and alas! to so little effect. The author of the Origin of Species had, at any rate, the philosophic temper. [...] Ethics, like natural selection, makes existence possible. Aesthetics, like sexual selection, make life lovely and wonderful, fill it with new forms, and give it progress, and variety and change.
Well, that suggests that Wilde admired Darwin a bit, although frankly I don't quite understand the "ethics is to aesthetics as natural selection is to sexual selection" comparison.
That suggestion is confirmed by the sole item in The Letters of Oscar Wilde (1962), edited by Rupert Hart-Davis, to mention Darwin. In a letter of January 1889, Wilde thanked W. L. Courtney for sending him his short biography of John Stuart Mill, expressing his lack of interest in Mill by saying "A man who knew nothing of Plato and Darwin gives me very little...but Darwinism has of course shattered many reputations besides his." Of course, Mill, who died in 1873, knew about Darwin, and devoted a long footnote in later editions of his System of Logic to "Mr. Darwin's remarkable speculation"; in his posthumously published Three Essays on Religion (1874), he was inclined to reject natural selection in favor of intelligent design. But you get Wilde's point.
Still, it wasn't clear to me what, specifically, Wilde liked about Darwin. When I went to consult the full text "The Critic as Artist," though, I discovered that Wilde was arguing (through the character of Gilbert) for the primacy of the critic over the creator—and, cosmologically, for the primacy of the Critic over the Creator:
The nineteenth century is a turning point in history simply on account of the work of two men, Darwin and Renan, the one the critic of the Book of Nature, the other the critic of the books of God. Not to recognize this is to miss the meaning of one of the most important eras in the progress of the world. Creation is always behind the age. It is Criticism that leads us.
It was Renan whose Vie de Jésus (1863) depicted Jesus as mortal, not divine, rejected the miracles of the New Testament as myth, and called for the Bible to undergo the same scrutiny as any historical document. His first name—I can hardly bear to type it—was Ernest. Well, as someone once said, "Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life."


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Efficient office operations can mean the difference between success and not-so-much, between being in the black and being in the red. Moving from you and your employees working harder to working smarter, the strategies and benchmarks of office operations increases the productivity of every person in your organization. Position yourself in your organization as the one who knows what to get done, and how to get things done in office operations.
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Discover strategies for focusing on specific office outcomes and operating a high-functioning office. Office operations refer to the administration and management of office business practices to support the highest level of efficiency and productivity within an organization. Learn how to design, implement, evaluate, and maintain the process of work within your office. Come away understanding how to supervise or manage a team of administrators, allocating roles, recruiting and training, and issuing assignments and projects.
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Cyber Security for Managers
Cyber security issues are all around us and reach nearly every part of our business and work, from online banking and education to Facebook and Wi-Fi. Finally, you can get up to date on Cyber Security basics and fundamentals. Designed for non-technical managers, directors and others in the work place, you will find out about threats and vulnerabilities, safeguards, common attacks, viruses, malware and spyware, disaster recover planning, Intrusion Detection/Prevention, basic security architecture, introductory forensics, and cyber terrorism. At the end of this course, you will have the knowledge needed to practice safer computing and safeguard your business and work information.
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Embracing Sustainability in the Workplace
It's a smart business practice and the right thing to do. Find out how to implement sustainability solutions for your workplace. Gain practical information for yourself and your employees to begin on Monday morning. Take back practical tips on operating your indoor environments to consider air, water, lighting, fitness, nutrition, mind and comfort. For anyone pursuing a career in a company or in government where there is an effort to build awareness and to gain a deeper understanding of the importance of environmental stewardship and overall social responsibility.
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Stan Waddell, is the Information Security Executive Director and Information Security Officer for the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He oversees the security of the University's electronic information, and is responsible for coordinating and ensuring that information security across the University is consistent with industry best practices and meets the University's compliance obligations. Mr. Waddell is a Certified Information Systems Security Professional (CISSP). Formerly he served as chief information security officer for the University of Texas Southwestern Medical Center in Dallas, Texas and coordinated all information security-related activities for the Medical Center, the University and its two hospitals, Zale and St. Paul University. Mr. Waddell also does extensive speaking and writing on the topic of cyber security.
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Thom Lowther is the CEO/CLO at Lowther7, LLC, a learning strategies consulting firm. As the former Vice President of Education at the U.S. Green Building Council Thom initiated early LEED online education and webinar efforts. As the Senior Director of Education at the American Institute of Architects, he was responsible for professional continuing education and the quality overview of nearly 12,000 provider offered sustainability courses, workshops, and webinars.
Kerry Mitchell is the CEO at Green Education Online and has authored over 150 hours of content on sustainability planning metrics. Her courses have established certification programs and gained approval in all 50 states for continuing education credentialing in various professional disciplines for license renewals in the real estate arena, government sectors and the insurance industry. She guides organizations on how to facilitate internal education in the workplace, and teaching employees, affiliates and stakeholders about how the metrics of sustainability will provide measurable results.


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Community college programs in Hawaiian lifestyles and commercial aviation gain established status
BOR also approves resident tuition for non-resident members of Hawaii National Guard and Hawaii ReservesUniversity of Hawaiʻi
Mia Noguchi, (808) 956-9095
External Affairs & University Relations
HONOLULU — At its monthly meeting held this week at the John A. Burns School of Medicine, the UH Board of Regents (BOR) approved the established status of the Hawaiian Lifestyles degree program at Hawaiʻi Community College and the Commercial Aviation degree program at Honolulu Community College. Both programs have been operating on a provisional status and their success and increasing enrollments have demonstrated potential for continued success.
The Associate in Applied Science in Hawaiian Lifestyles at Hawaiʻi Community College was approved as a provisional program in 2002 and joined a pre-existing Academic Subject Certificate in Hawaiian Lifestyles that began in 1998. Offered in three tracks reflecting traditional Hawaiʻi native occupations—Hula, Mahiʻai (Kalo or Taro Cultivation), and Lawaiʻa (Fishing and Fish Husbandry)—the primary goal of the program is to provide students with a solid foundation in the evolution, practice, and perpetuation of the Hawaiian culture by offering a variety of courses serving their personal and professional aspirations.
The program combines Hawaiian Lifestyles courses with general education courses to provide students with the cultural education and technical knowledge supporting sustainable life-ways in today's society. In addition, the program serves the state's needs for improved management of Hawaiian natural and cultural resources.
At Honolulu Community College, the Associate of Science degree in Commercial Aviation (AVIT) was approved as a provisional program in 1998. With the impact of the events of September 11, 2001, on the aviation industry, AVIT was permitted additional time to become an established program.
The program operates in affiliation with the University of North Dakota Aerospace Foundation. It is a five semester AS degree program in flight training that enables students to follow a career path earning Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) commercial pilot and certified instructor pilot training.
The program initially operated from the Honolulu Community College Airport Training Facility at Honolulu International Airport, but now operates from the Pacific Aerospace Training Center located at Kalaeloa Airport, the former Barbers Point Naval Air Station. The facility permits Honolulu Community College and the university to offer a full range of aviation related educational and training services to students, airlines and aviation industries, as well as function as a research and development site.
In other action, the BOR voted to approve the exemption of payment of the non-resident tuition differential for members of the Hawaiʻi National Guard and Hawaiʻi Reserves. The action recognizes the significance of the contribution made by these individuals and the importance of their service to the safety of Hawaiʻi residents. The university also affords active duty military personnel and their dependents the privilege of paying resident tuition.
The BOR also voted on a UH Foundation proposal to extend the Centennial Campaign period to June 30, 2009, with a goal of $250 million. The proposal enables the Foundation to leverage the UH centennial and the recent permanent appointment of UH President David McClain to increase the level of private support for the university.


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A court decision last week blocked $1 billion in potential budget savings for the state. And it made clear something else about California's never-ending budget crisis:
While the state constitution says that the budget must be balanced, provisions of that constitution make balancing the buget virtually impossible.
The new court decision said the state couldn't take money dedicated to early childhood programs through the First Five programs.
U.S. & World
These programs have plenty of money because they were created by a ballot initiative with designated tax moneys.
But the legislature and governor had been interested -- and with good reason -- in moving some money from these programs, which have surpluses, to other programs on children's health that are suffering cutbacks.
A state court, however, said such transfers from one program to the other aren't permitted in California.
That's because the constitution makes it plain that decisions made by ballot initiatives -- including funding for these particular early childhood education programs -- cannot be amended without another vote of the people.
California is the only state where initiatives are so inflexible.
Which is why it's especially hard to balance the budget here. Lawmakers and governors have little discretion and ability to change up budgets.
They're locked in by ballot measures and the constitution itself.
Let us know what you think. Comment below, send us your thoughts via Twitter @PropZero or add your comment to our Facebook page.


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Radio show hosts like nothing more than a juicy controversy to kick-start a heated debate. Thanks to "Talkers" magazine, they've got one.
The publication recently anointed conservative iconoclast Rush Limbaugh as the top radio talk-show host of all time on its "Heaviest Hundred" list. The political lightening rod landed a spot above New York based shock jock Howard Stern. Larry King, Sean Hannity and Don Imus rounded out the top five, reports the New York Daily News.
In selecting the honorees on the occasion of its 20th anniversary, publisher Michael Harrison said the "Talkers" list was subjective but that it attempted to account for many factors when coming to conclusions.
U.S. & World
The hope was to "create a roster reflective of the industry's diversity, colorful history and cumulative flavor, as well as giving credit where credit is due," he said.
Among the elements considered were ratings, longevity, talent and historical relevance.
In an interview with radio-info.com, Harrison said that Stern could have taken the number one if the list had been for top entertainer, but given the criteria used, it would have been difficult to keep Rush from the top spot.