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"Bryant Aguilar, 21, of Brooklyn, was arrested by the 104th Precinct Detective Squad March 10, at 12:15 p.m. and charged with four separate counts of robbery," Detective Thomas Bell wrote in an email. "The robberies occurred during the last two weeks of February."
In total, there were seven robberies reported between Jan. 22 and Feb. 24, with three of these occurring on Feb. 24 alone.
The first attack occurred on Jan. 22 outside of 59-12 68th Ave. The following attack took place at the intersection of 60th Ln. and 75th Ave. on Feb. 17. A third took place at the intersection of Putnam Ave. & 60th Pl. on Feb. 21, followed by another opposite 59 Decatur St. on Feb. 23.
The three attacks perpetrated on Feb. 24 included one at 1708 Summerfield St., Cypress Ave. and Summerfield St., and Grove St. & Forest Ave.
Originally, the 104th reported that they suspected two males, one roughly 5 feet 4 inches and the other roughly 6 feet tall, in the string of knifepoint robberies. Police said there are still suspects at large for the three remaining knifepoint robberies.
No injuries were reported as a result of the robberies.


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Sort By:
Candy is a unique product in that it appeals to both your sense of taste and smell. Available in many different types, colors and flavors, these products are then imprinted or embossed with your company logo or custom text. Most people get nostalgic when they think of the treats they ate as a kid and how much they enjoyed eating each piece. And now your company's name and your product or service is then associated with their childhood nostalgia and can possibly open doors for your business. As the old saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, can be applied to all clients, including women and children. Try using branded candy at your next event or sales call and watch your client's reaction, we're sure they will love it.

subset: commoncrawl


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Earlier today, I did a post about a May Breakfast I went to in Chelmsford. It wasn't until we left, that somebody mentioned how nice the area looked since they removed all the telephone poles, and put the wires and cables underground. Once it was pointed out, I could tell the difference, and it was nice seeing how this part of the town may have looked many years ago, before electricity. Many of the buildings were there before that time.
No telephone poles! New sitting area in the old green.
Streets around the green. I must say, it looks great.
Old 1879 Town Hall was recently renovated.
(New Town Hall is in another location.)
Monument and Toll House.
Middlesex Canal Toll House 1832 Oldest Canal Toll House in America. Donated by Heirs of Judge Samuel P. Hadley.
Old house, now a bank.Harriet B. Rogers, assisted by Mary S. Byam, opened here in 1866 the Chelmsford School. The first in America to susccessfully teach lip-reading and speech to deaf children. In 1867 it was moved to Northampton as the Clarke School for the Deaf.
Next to the church, the 1655 Forefathers Burial Ground and old school.


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Iron Deficiency Anemia
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Iron Deficiency Anemia
MMS has been reported used for Iron Deficiency Anemia.
Recommended MMS Protocol
We apologize for the inconvenience, however the Malady List is currently under revision. For up-to-date guidance on how to handle anything from minor nagging health problems to major diseases, check the "MMS Health Recovery Manual", which will give you a plan for total health recovery from most everything. Available at: http://jhbooks.org
Full Malady List
- Full Malady List (List of ailments and Protocols to use.)
Locate other diseases and the recommended MMS protocol for each disease.
What is MMS?
Notable links
- Genesis II Church of Health & Healing
- MMS Testimonials (Written)
- MMS Testimonials (Videos)
- MMS Newsletter archive
- MMS Support Forum


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Publication information
The aim of the quarterly bulletin, Tiempo, is to promote communication between the nations of the North and South on the issue of climate change, to promote the interests of developing nations in the climate debate and to provide authoritative and timely information on relevant scientific, technical and policy matters.
In the words of the first editorial:
The bulletin (ISSN 0962-7030) is published by the International Institute for Environment and Development (IIED, London, UK) and the School of Environmental Sciences at the University of East Anglia (UEA, Norwich, UK), with financial support from the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency in association with the Stockholm Environment Institute as part of the Atmospheric Environment Issues in Developing Countries Programme. Supplementary funding has been provided by DANIDA (Danish International Development Assistance). This support is gratefully acknowledged.
The Tiempo editors can be contacted at:
The bulletin is distributed free on request to low-income subscribers. Contributions from higher-income subscribers will enable expanded distribution. Cheques should be made payable to the University of East Anglia.
Unless otherwise stated, the text in this bulletin can be reproduced at will with due acknowledgement to contributors and to Tiempo.
The editorial team consists of Sarah Granich, Mick Kelly and Richard Sandbrook.
Sarah Granich was born in New Zealand in August, 1952. She left New Zealand in 1970 and spent the first ten years living in Australia. During these years she worked, amongst many activities, as a gardener, waitress, farm manager, freelance writer, published poet, and on a prawn trawler. From 1980, she lived variously in France, Thailand and Switzerland, working as a freelance travel writer and photographer. In late 1988, on moving to the United Kingdom, she met Mick Kelly. They married and have been working together in England ever since.
Sarah is the main everyday editor of Tiempo. Her work includes research, commissioning of articles and maintaining the various databases as well as sub-editing and production. She has produced a number of fact sheets for what is now the Information Unit for Conventions and, with Mick, has written numerous articles for a wide variety of journals, magazines and other publications, all dealing with the issue of climate change. The other main area of interest she shares with Mick is their continuing involvement in research in Vietnam which began in late 1991.
Outside of work, Sarah spends as much time as she can gardening. She likes to run and will be entering her third half-marathon this year. In 1995, she made a parachute jump for charity. In summers, she and Mick like to cycle and explore the historical lanes and byways of the Norfolk countryside and coast. She continually yearns for more sun.
Mick Kelly was born in England in May 1951. On graduating in Physics and Meteorology at Reading University in the United Kingdom, he joined the Climatic Research Unit at the University of East Anglia as a graduate student shortly after the Unit was established by Professor Hubert Lamb in 1972. He was awarded a doctorate in 1976.
A member of the team that developed the new, improved global temperature record some twenty years ago, Mick now specializes in climate data analysis, the causes of climate change and climate and development issues, including vulnerability, adaptation and other policy matters.
He enjoys combining his skills as a scientist and his interest in art in programming for the Web and is the creative force behind the Tiempo Climate Cyberlibrary.
Mick is the author of over 100 scientific journal articles as well as numerous pieces for popular magazines. With John Gribbin, he wrote a popular account of the global warming issue called Winds of Change, based on the award-winning television documentary Can Polar Bears Tread Water? He has written and presented a number of programmes for radio and television.
He enjoys listening to jazz and classical music and playing the piano.
Richard Sandbrook was born in England in August 1946. He has over twenty-five years experience in the fields of conservation and environmental sciences. Since participating in the 1972 Stockholm Conference on the Human Environment he has been closely involved with international policies for the environment. He was co-founder of Friends of the Earth UK in the early 1970s.
In 1976, Richard joined the London office of the International Institute for Environment and Development. Following positions as Vice President for Policy and Executive Director for Europe, he became Executive Director in 1989. After ten years in this position, he has offered his resignation effective from September 1999, although he plans to continue to work closely on environment and development issues
Richard serves on a number of boards and committees, including the IUCN Council for Western Europe, the Earth Council Institute Costa Rica and the Green Globe group which advises the UK Foreign Secretary and the environment and international development ministers. He is also an advisor to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales on environmental issues.
He has received two personal awards over the years. In 1985, he received the Global 500 Environment Award and, in 1990, he received the Order of the British Empire (OBE).
In his spare time Richard likes to garden. His particular horticultural obsession is the cultivation of the family of plants relating to Geraniaceae, his favourite being those commonly known as Geraniums. He would like more time to spend with his family, as well as sailing off the south coast of England.


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Planning Your Visit
Planning Your Visit
Washington College's main campus is located on Washington Avenue in historic Chestertown. The College's 18th-century structures—Custom House, the Patrick Henry House, and the Hynson-Ringgold House—are near the foot of High Street, on the Chester River. The Truslow Boathouse, home to the crew and sailing teams, is just downriver.
Concert Series events are held in the Gibson Center for the Arts. During Concert Series events, parking is open to the public, including those spaces generally reserved for faculty.
By car, from the North:
By car, from the South:


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Silton city is located in Saskatchewan, Canada
You can search for the Silton SK postal codes by its streets and block numbers
Silton Area Code is 306 and Time Zone is Central (GMT -06:00).
Silton Postal Code - Saskatchewan
Silton Postal Code is a six-character string that forms part of a postal address in Canada. Like British and Dutch postcodes, Silton - SK postal codes are alphanumeric.
The first three characters (alpha-numeric-alpha) of the postal code which represent a geographic area in Silton.
The last three characters denote a Silton local delivery unit (LDU). An LDU denotes a specific single Silton address or range of addresses, which can correspond to an entire small town, a significant part of a medium-sized town, a single side of a city block in larger cities, a single large building or a portion of a very large one, a single (large) institution in Silton, Saskatchewan, such as a university or a hospital, or a business that receives large volumes of mail on a regular basis
If you want to send a mail to Silton City, you should use the corresponding Postal Code.
Silton Postal Code MAP
Silton Postal Code - CA Streets Postal Codes
Silton Postal Code Lookup
City: Silton
Silton Area Code: 306
Silton, SK - Time Zone: Central (GMT -06:00)
State: Saskatchewan
State Abb: SK
Silton Elevation: 498
Silton Population: 61106
Saskatchewan Postal Code: related postal codes
View more Saskatchewan postal codes


text: Ohio's John Kasich Named National MS Society 2013 Governor of the Year February 27, 2014 Updated March 18, 2014 WASHINGTON, DC – Ohio Governor John Kasich is the National Multiple Sclerosis Society's 2013 Governor of the Year. In 2013, Governor Kasich worked tirelessly to improve the lives of people living with multiple sclerosis (MS) and their families. Through political and procedural obstacles, he persevered to expand Medicaid in Ohio, ensuring that at least 275,000 more vulnerable residents — many of whom are living with disabilities — will receive comprehensive, affordable health coverage. "Governor Kasich has done important things for people with disabilities and their families, including those affected by MS," says Cyndi Zagieboylo, National MS Society President and CEO. "His commitment to helping people with disabilities live their best lives is appreciated and the Society is pleased to honor him." Additionally, Governor Kasich supports consumer choice and care and, as such, directed an extra $31 million to be spent on home- and community-based care. Under Governor Kasich's leadership, Ohio is also positioned to receive more than $169 million to implement the Balancing Incentive Program, which increases access to long-term services and assistance for aging and disabled residents. Governor Kasich also supported the National MS Society and other disability advocates' legislative solution to ensure that people can access needed multi-function wheelchairs. Bestowing its highest honor for elected officials, the National MS Society honored Governor Kasich with the Governor of the Year award on March 11, 2014, during its annual Public Policy Conference. Kasich provided a video message that was shared with the more than 300 MS activists who gathered from across the country in DC to educate elected officials about the needs of people affected by MS. Kasich, 61, was sworn in as Ohio's 69th governor on January 10, 2011 after a long career in the House of Representatives. Since then, he has dedicated himself to bringing Ohioans together to make the Buckeye State stronger and more prosperous for all. For more information on Governor John Kasich, visit governor.ohio.gov, facebook.com/JohnRKasich, or twitter.com/JohnKasich. For more information on the Society and MS issues, visit nationalMSsociety.org/advocacy, facebook.com/nationalMSsociety, twitter.com/MSactivist, or search hashtags #MSactivist, #MSresearch or #MS, and #NIH, #CDMRP or #FDA.


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Content Count1,839
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About TJR
Advanced Member
- Birthday 07/13/1953
Profile Information
Reading, camping, hiking, movies, my family, carpentry[amature]
gallery hopping, hanging with friends.Architecture.Pottery.
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Mia G. reacted to a post in a topic: Adding Mason Stains To My 100G Clear Cone 6 Glaze For Test Tiles
dricherson reacted to a post in a topic: Adding Mason Stains To My 100G Clear Cone 6 Glaze For Test Tiles
Pugaboo reacted to a post in a topic: What direction is your wheel spinning?
SydneyGee reacted to a post in a topic: Who Of You Is Making Funeral Urns?
Tarantara reacted to a post in a topic: Drawings On Plates-Underglaze On Glaze Fired To Cone 10
Callie Beller Diesel reacted to a post in a topic: Kiln Wash application-on a sunny day
Buying My First Wheel
TJR replied to email@example.com's topic in Equipment Use and RepairLike others[Pres.,Mark C, I have a Brent CXC.Bought used in Seattle 35 years ago. There was a grinding sound about 2 years ago-no,not my Mother -in-law. Anyway, our shops teacher in high school replaced the bearing.[for about $20.00]. The wheel works GREAT! Unfortunately, I bought a lighter Brent to use in the interim. Can't remember the letters. The wheel has a quicker response time, lighter to move around,etc. I have often thought of have the two wheels in my shop. Taught one of my sons how to throw on it over Christmas. He picked it up way faster than me. I think I will keep one for decorating and one for trimming and throwing.If I were to buy new, I would probably buy a Whisper. Does this help, or make your decision more difficult? TJR.
sandramast reacted to a post in a topic: repairing grenware?
Pottery Project Ideas For Kids
TJR replied to Stone Spiral's topic in Educational Approaches and ResourcesThe anthropomorphic mug. Some part of mug creates a handle, as in you are making a mug out of a cylinder and the handle becomes the trunk of an elephant. Giraffes are also good. Snakes-too easy. TJR.
Pres reacted to a post in a topic: Harry Davis,potter,engineer
Clay Comparisons & Identifying Unmarked Clay
TJR replied to Stone Spiral's topic in Studio Operations and Making WorkI agree with Mark. I once mistakenly fired some pitchers made with Cone 6 clay in a Cone 9 gas firing. Lost all the pitchers as they melted. Luckily, they were all fired on one shelf. Both clays of mine were white, so it was an easy mistake. Cost me $60.00 to replace the shelf and keep the friendship. Beware of unmarked materials. The gift bearer is not dong you any favours. They are cleaning out their studio. TJR.
terrim8 reacted to a post in a topic: Pots in Movies
Weird Question On Refiring Bisque
TJR replied to SkitzoidLady's topic in Studio Operations and Making WorkTouch your piece to your cheek. If it feels cool, there is moisture inside. For bisquing I fire my electric kiln on low for two hours, then all switches up to medium for one hour, then all switches on full. Bisque should take approx 8 hours. Try rolling your slabs on sticks. Your cylinder looks pretty uneven. Great decoration. Sorry for your loss. TJR.
Need To Make Slip A Bright White
TJR replied to Pugaboo's topic in Clay and Glaze ChemistryYou could try 10% zircopax in the slip. I have seen recipes for this, but I don't have any personal experience. Wouldn't hurt to try it. TJR.
Cones Do You Bisque The Packs
TJR replied to Babs's topic in Studio Operations and Making WorkTyler; Make a note to not ever go to her place for dinner,esp. if she is micro-waving.Is that a verb?
TJR commented on karenkstudio's gallery image in Browse Member Galleries
What To Do With All My Early Pieces?
TJR replied to AnitaMarie's topic in Studio Operations and Making WorkI love my hammer. Get in there and smash away! It's a good idea to put them in a cardboard box and then break your pieces. Do this when no one else is around because the sound of breaking pottery is a little unnerving. Don't let anyone grab stuff out of the garbage. Smash em small enough so that they are completely unusable. I think I shall go out to the studio with my hammer right! now! p.s. It's always a good idea to cull your work before it goes through the glaze fire. That crack on the bottom / rim,or wherever is not going to get smaller.Don't waste energy on it. TJR.
Valentine's Day - Marketing/sale Opportunity?
TJR replied to ChenowethArts's topic in Business, Marketing, and AccountingOur ground hog died two days before he was supposed to make his big entrance. I guess we are stuck in winter until we get a new one. TJR.
Harry Davis,potter,engineer
TJR posted a topic in Educational Approaches and ResourcesDoes anyone know of a film or video regarding the life of Harry Davis? He had a pottery with a water-wheel. He made beautiful functional pots. Worked in New Zealand,England and South America. Thanks, TJR. I apologize. I am a two finger typest. That one got away on me. Harry Davis. A contemorary of Michael Cardew. Tom.
Ben; So, who hits the switches for you? TJR.
Babs; We DID ride the railway all the way to the top where that octagonal building is. Got to meet Barry and shake his hand. I had been an apprentice to Michael Cardew, so we had that to talk about. His pottery was one of the high lights of out trip. All kinds of stoneware kilns, great pots, a tea shop. He took on apprentices, but sadly I was committed to teaching a year in Australia, and we were on our way there. There were other great potteries all along the coast, but many were closed up because of the competition with China. TJR.
Heating Source In Pottery Workshop Besides Kiln
TJR replied to dondon's topic in Studio Operations and Making WorkI have hydronic heat, which is two coils of glycol [anti-freeze] which rotate through the floor. Also called in-floor radiant heat.Set the thermostat in the fall and just leave it. No blowers, no fans, just a passive heat that is always on. I live in Winnipeg, Canada, which is one of the colder parts of the country. I worked in a second floor of a warehouse for 26 years with those overhead warehouse heaters blowing dust every where. Finally built my dream studio 4 years ago. My only problem is that my space is too well insulated. I need a de-humidifier to get rid of all the moisture from making pots. TJR.
I met the man when we were traveling in N.Z.What a hair raising ride up to his studio. The track went through the middle of the pottery and he could haul clay up the hill and pots down. He had a lot of apprentices working at the pottery. What a beautiful place. What a character. He will be missed. TJR.
Joeseph, Diesel; I am currently working on adding colour to my glazes as well. Not thinking an entire red glaze, just high lights. See my gallery for a chicken plate with a nice red comb. I know the inclusion stains from U.S. pigment work at cone 10 reduction, but I don't know if I want to spend the money for something that may or may not work for me.The red on the plate is a Mason stain with Gerstly applied to the unfired white glaze. There was talk in a previous post about a low-fire yellow underglaze that went to cone 10 applied on top of the glaze; Amaco intense yellow V-308, or also V-391. These came from Mark Cortnoy's assistant. Sadly for me, they are both lead based, and I am a functional dude. Let me know how far you get on your research. I will dig up the name of that Mason stain red. TJR.


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Name and blog name: Mal Warning
Age: 25
Occupation: Special Education Substitute/ part time nanny & jewelry maker.
Age of first tattoo:16
Favorite tattoo: Cherry blossom tree on my back
Featured tattoo/location: Owl & Teapot on my right thigh
Artist/shop/location of feature tattoo: A great lady friend of mine by the name of Donna Klein did this piece at Evermore Gallery back home in Edwardsville, IL. This tattoo was taken from a favorite print of mine done by Kim Anh Nguyen.
1) Tell us about your featured tattoo.
This tattoo was a gift from my in-laws as a graduation present! I knew I wanted to get something that signified them in some sort of way or something that included them or that will always make me think of them. After some thought I decided Kim Anh Nguyen print was perfect! For our wedding my in laws bought me a tea kettle that I had been lusting at for sometime & so in the tattoo we made the tea pot the same color as my wedding tea kettle. Also I really love tea, this tattoo is something that shows people a little about myself.
2) Do you have any other tattoos?
I do! Does anyone ever just get one? All of my tattoos were done at Evermore Gallery done by either Donna Klein or Carrie Davini who is also another lovely lady friend. On my left thigh I have stacked tea cups to go along with my tea pot on my right thigh. I have a cherry blossom tree on my back, which is still my favorite because it makes me think of my mom who passed away when I was 2. In Japanese culture cherry blossoms are associated with "mono no aware" for their extreme beauty and quick death. I have an outline of a small dove on the right shoulder, a peacock feather on my right foot (which is actually a cover up from that time I was 16 & thought I'd truly love blue stars forever). I have the word "love" on my left wrist, a few hearts on the inside of my lip as well as "Mrs." on my wedding ring finger.
Absolutely! Since recently moving to Portland I am hoping to get in with Silje at Scapegoat Tattoo to start my right sleeve this spring. A good pal of mine who married my husband and I works at the shop (Evermore) & has been apprenticing for almost a year now & as soon as I plan a trip back home he will be doing a clementine for my dog, her name is Clementine :)
4) How do your family and friends feel about your tattoo(s)?
My family has been very supportive so far, I think they know its something that I enjoy & want to continue. My aunt who raised me as asked me not to do my arms, but I think she will come around once its done, she loves all of my other tattoos & has recently been talking about wanting to get one of her own! My nana has also made plans to have one of my branches from my cherry blossom tree tattooed on her shoulder. Also this past year I took my father-in-law to get his first tattoo & I didn't have to hold his hand like he thought after all! My husband has tattoos as well, I am pretty sure he plans on more as well.
I have been pretty lucky, not a whole lot of negativity. But because I work within schools mine are covered a majority of the time & when co-workers do find out they are pretty surprised. I think in general people are just curious about my tattoos. I feel like if someone doesn't have tattoos or doesn't plan on ever getting any its a hard thing to grasp why we do get them or enjoy them. I've been stopped in the grocery store and asked "Why would you do such a thing, your such a pretty girl" by an elderly woman and the occasional stares. But other than that Its been pretty positive. I wear my tattoos with pride, especially in summer (when schools out).
5)What's the most interesting experience you've ever had in regards to your tattoos?
I'm not sure I have had any really interesting experiences, I like to read while I am getting tattooed, I guess that is a little interesting. I have also been sitting in a session getting my back done while a huge, I mean football player huge man was getting a four leaf clover tattooed on his lower back and was crying & when he was done I was still being tattooed and said something along the lines I don't know how you can be so chatty during this! People are weird in general, I often get strangers wanting to tell me about THEIR tattoos and tattoo stories when I never asked.
6) Any advice for those interested in getting tattooed but haven't gotten one yet?
I think its important to do your research on an artist and shop you want to go too. If I hadn't moved across the country I would be going to Carrie and Donna until there was no room left on my body! I also think there is a reason why the legal age for getting a tattoo is 18, you don't know what you like. Trust me, 25 year old you wont like your 16 year old you tattoo choice. Lastly this is permanent, don't randomly pick something off a flash. Take some time to think about it and make sure its something you really want. I have been sitting on my idea for my sleeve for almost two years & I still want it so its going to be something I'll love forever.


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Home › Classroom Resources › Lesson Plans
Lesson Plan
The Peace Journey: Using Process Drama in the Classroom
|9 – 12
|Lesson Plan Type
|Standard Lesson
|Estimated Time
|Five or six 50-minute class periods
|Lesson Author
Pleasanton, California
Process drama is a powerful and motivating teaching tool that engages students in writing for imaginative and functional purposes. In their lives, students have had a wide range of experiences with peace and conflict. In this lesson, they will participate in a simulation of a Peace Journey as they engage in a variety of literacy activities. Each student will respond to an imaginary advertisement, role play, work in small groups to develop a visual map, and create a skit that reflects his or her developing notions of peace. Students will then perform their skits for the class. After the class has performed, teachers may wish to lead a discussion about the students' ideas and their interpretations of the idea of peace.
Schneider, J.J., & Jackson, S.A.W. (2000). Process drama: A special space and place for writing. The Reading Teacher, 54(1), 3851.
- Process drama involves students in imaginary, unscripted, and spontaneous scenes and is framed by curricular topics, teacher objectives, and students' personal experiences.
- Process drama involves reading, writing, and visualization and provides a context within which students may write for functional and imaginative purposes.
- Process drama is an instructional tool that supports literacy development and fosters students' imaginative capabilities.


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Moderation with caramel, and sugar, and thick-sliced bread.
Sounds like a joke, right? I'm not kidding.
This is Caramel Overnight French Toast, and no, it's not my own recipe, I confess, but I want to share it with you because I constantly get asked for it. Truly, that's how this entire blog thing started. People would ask for a recipe and I'd post it here, so it was easier. I had no theme, no commitment to it, it was just a way to share my love for food with others.
I think that gets forgotten in the food blog way too often.
In the middle of deadlines, sponsorships, conferences, giveaways, and popularity, we forget that food blogs simply popped up to share a love of food. I think we'd all be better writers, developers, and people, if we remembered that the passion for food and sharing it, should be our first priority. Then again, I can say this because I have a day job that pays the bills.
Back to moderation, however. You know that's my "theme". The "lighter" part of the title of this blog has more to do with the "lighter" side of eating local. "Lighter", as in, a not so serious side of trying to live a more local and regional lifestyle. Yes, it wasn't thought out. Yes, I probably should change the name of this blog since most think it's about healthy eating. Most of my recipes are fairly healthy, but I'm a firm believer in moderation of all things, including those full of fat and sugar.
Including Caramel French Toast.
This is a Cooking Light recipe I stumbled upon a few years back. Ever since, it's become a choice for me to bring to holiday brunches, sleepovers, and when there's a special Sunday morning. It only comes out once or twice a year. The main reason is that it's super sweet. In moderation, that's perfect. The other reason, it does use corn syrup.
Before you skewer me for that, I'm here to tell you it's OK. I live and cook with mostly local products, and whole foods. I'm a true believer that if you can't pronounce it, you shouldn't eat it... regularly.
However, in moderation, it's OK. I use corn syrup, maybe, three times a year in a recipe. It has properties that lend itself to easy caramelization. If you really hate it, you can sub maple syrup here, but you won't get caramel.
Here's my deal and my confession. Every once in a while I'll eat something crazy processed. And yes, even though I know it's probably one molecule off from plastic, I'll have a fast food shake every once in a while, because I can. Frankly, where we veered off the path with processed foods is when they stopped becoming "treats". That once in a while thing you got when you were good at the dentist or something. However, when a trip through the drive-through became a several-times-a-week thing, we took a wrong turn.
You can live a life enjoying mostly whole and local foods, the best of what life and nutrition has to offer, but you can also allow yourself certain things, use "forbidden" ingredients, every once in while. It won't kill you. It won't upset your balance, as long as it doesn't become habit.
Heck, if you don't like these things, then don't eat them. Don't feel like you can't pick up something that's on the "bad" list, however. There's no good or bad, if you place limits and practice moderation. In other worse, don't beat yourself up. Life is too short to not enjoy guilty pleasures, that truly, aren't really guilty in the first place.
Until then, enjoy french toast, soaked in caramel.
Overnight Carmel French Toast
Source: Cooking Light
Serves: 8
- 1 cup packed light-brown sugar
- 1/2 cup light-colored corn syrup
- 1/4 cup butter
- Cooking Spray
- 10 slices french (soft) bread (I like to use Texas Toast here)
- 2 1/2 cups low-fat milk
- 1 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 2 large eggs
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- Combine light-brown sugar, corn syrup, and butter in a saucepan. Cook these over medium heat until mixture bubbles. Stir is constantly.
- Coast a 9x13 baking dish with cooking spray, pour caramel mixture into bottom of dish.
- Put you bread slices in a single layer over the caramel mixture.
- Combine milk, flour, vanilla, salt, and eggs in a large bowl, whisk to combine.
- Pour milk mixture over bread, evenly.
- Cover and refrigerate the dish, overnight, or for at least 6 hours.
- In the morning, preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Mix together your sugar and ground cinnamon, and sprinkle over bread.
- Bake at 350 for 45 minutes or until golden. Let stand for 5 minutes and serve.


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NOTICE: Many events listed here have been canceled or postponed due to the Covid-19 emergency. It is best to call ahead or check with organizer's websites to verify the status of any local event.
|Jul 16
|Life Sciences Future - MedTech
|Find Tickets
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Settle in for a restful night on the plush Sheraton Sweet Sleeper™ Bed in any of our 180 guest rooms and suites. A host of modern conveniences will help you feel at home, including a refrigerator, a 42" flat screen television, and wired and wireless High Speed Internet Access. Enjoy the additional amenities of a Sheraton Club Room, or the extra space of one of our 58 suites.
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text:
Border Patrol
Timescale set
Mission time +14 days, 3 hours, 27 minutes, 9 seconds and counting
Scythian "Monarch" Class Battleship "Solaris"
Scythian task group Atlantia Four - 1x Monarch Class Battleship with 5x Savager Class Frigates as Escorts
Current Location - Scythian North Rim, "Devator" Star System
Space is awesome, it is also - most notably, empty and boring . . . well, most of the time anyway.
These where the thoughts drifting through the head of lieutenant Safros, as he sat in front of the ever updating Ladar screen.
Asteroid this, meteoroid that, gaseous substances detected here, unusual magnetic fluctuations there, odd planetary bodies here, there and everywhere - and then there's that good old friend to space - the vacuum - vast, huge, perhaps infinite, both completely deadly - and completely boring at the same time.
This had been the fourth hour of his shift as the task group continued its patrol around the north rim worlds. Many would consider this a moot assignment for those who had no interest in, well - anything really. Every Scythian world held its own resident navy that was considerably larger than a simple task group, and countless ships flowed throughout the Scythian empire - no incursion could go for long without being logged - and within moments reserve fleets would be en-route to the source of conflict, so endlessly patrolling the nothing that filled the gaps between the maps of Scythian space was a dead end job, for those with no imagination to do anything else with their existence.
10 years of mandatory military service, that was all it took to gain citizenship - the first 5 for Safros had been filled with basic training, endless days of marksman training, PT, unit drills and mechanical training that every single man woman and child would be indoctrinated into at the age of 18, his second 5 had been filled with officer school - endless technical specifications of every Scythian space asset in the universe, the yield of every laser and warhead, the tonnage and shield strength of every vessel - the layout of known enemy ships - how to map unknown enemy ships - how to best combat the VOL, if need be - how to kill an Immortal. First contact drills (the most current being how to handle the Assyrians - who the Scythian Office Of Naval Intelligence had been spying on for over the last 20 years, and no contact had yet been made, the best option was to let them come to Scythia - rather than the other way around), combat strategies and three dimensional combat drills.
All of this, every piece of knowledge and training - led to a lieutenants rank, sat in front of a rotating Ladar display - watching nothing.
Sometimes life really fucking sucks? Doesn't it?
His concentration waning, Safros peered up for a moment around the bridge - the rest of the command crew going about their duties on their various stations. His attention, as with every time his eyes wandered from his station - fell onto the ships Pilot, a young woman by the name of Cylen . . . to many, she wouldn't be much above average - but when your trapped in deep space, in a fairly small room with little else to look at, you find that your eyes often wander, and as per usual they fell down to the sight of her backsi-
It was at that point, he heard the beep.
Usually on a starship bridge - you where surrounded by various "boops", "beeps" and even the occasional "Bloop's" that are the general running of the ship, every so often the ships intercom would buzz, or someone would dare to speak aloud. Usually these noises would be harmless, innocuous - a plasma overheat in section 13-b, a laser lense would need re-alignment in one of the secondary laser cannons or some usual drone from the ship.
This beep however, was different - this beep was coming from his console, the console he was too busy ignoring in the favor of the pilots, rear. His head turned back quickly - and his eyes darted.
Moments later, the bridge erupted into life - klaxons wailed - the crew startled into action and Safros was left in front of a monitor that for all intents and purposes was predicting incoming doom. The Captain came running onto the deck, demanding status updates - and blood red holograms ignited the air with three dimensional Ladar images, inbound and outbound vectors - and the jump point that was soon to share the same space as the Solaris.
At least Life wasn't boring any more, the sarcastic side of his mind suggested.
- - -
Space itself boiled. Any decent scientist could tell you that space itself boiling is an illusion, a mere habit of the universe - the reaction to a mass moving faster than the speed of light that creates various forms of "exit" radiation that dilates momentarily before an objects arrival.
However, space was boiling everywhere, the Solaris was surrounded by a fresh space/time event that was the precursor to its destruction. People ran everywhere - emergency klaxons wailed, the Captain barked orders to and fro and Safros was left dumbstruck in front of his console.
"VESSEL IS SOME FORM OF SUPER-DREADNAUGHT, ARRIVAL iN-"
The Solaris struggled to come to life, increasing its own forward speed and firing its downwards thrusters, the great ship struggled to lift itself out of the oncoming wake - the smaller frigates split away from their defensive formations as space itself split and a vast form emerged from somewhere far distant in the galaxy.
Then, the lights dimmed suddenly, with a resounding boom - and everything shook. Artificial gravity wavered and then de-activated, throwing objects and people on random vectors around the ship, off of desks, chairs and bulkheads. On the bridge itself an un-prepared deck hand was caught in the middle of a frantic dash with a holo-screen in hand. She gasped as her stride launched her off the deck, and then let out a short panicked yelp as she departed from the ground. Moments later she hit the ceiling bulkhead with a sickening crunch and then scraped the ceiling with her temple, her head stuck at a sickening 90 degree angle backwards.
Safros turned his eyes away, struggling to keep his cool as bile rose in his throat, she had been killed cold without a shot fired - he didn't even know her name, and later - her cause of death would be put down to simple "Mechanical malfunction" he knew space travel could be dangerous, but that had simply been pointless - a life snuffed out in a moment.
"Police the Corporals body later" The Captain snapped out to the bridge officers, breaking the silence "Lieutenant Safros - Give me anything you have on that ship"
Safros's eyes darted back to his monitor, everything was on him as his fingers darted over the screen, struggling to re-activate computer systems and sensors. A moment later power returned and the screen burst into glorious life.
BRITANIAN 19th FLEET OF NEW PORTSMOUTH
Safros turned back to the Captain and began "Sir, we have a reading, I'm not sure you're going to make of this . . . "
- - -
The Chelsea Smile had emerged into real space in a belch of exotic fire, huge portions of its front Armour had been gouged away, leaving reams of open decks and super structure open to space, still venting atmosphere, fire and drive plasma into space. It's underside launch bays had been reamed open into a vast slash across the underside of the once proud vessel. Once mighty weapon turrets had been ripped away, leaving potholes across the broken hull, and half of its bridge section had been torn asunder. Almost all of the power had been drained from its nuclear reactors and its FTL system still leaked volatile radiation into the coldness of space, painting the whole region in beta and gamma particles, creating beautiful but deadly plumes of invisible energies.
The shadow it cast over the bridge was undeniable, Safros could make out hundreds upon hundreds of tiny fires spouting from its outer hull.
The captain turned from station to station attempting to assess the situation, to little avail. Power still fluctuated, monitors would flicker in and out of life, the lights would turn on and off out of all control and various systems gained and lost short bouts of power across the ship.
Through the outer bridge windows, Safros could only make out the now tiny, drifting specs that once where the Solaris's frigate escorts - in the same situation the smaller vessels would suffer to re-activate their single core antimatter systems with even fewer redundancy systems to back up their combat systems.
In the vast distance, un-noticed by failing sensors, hundreds of specs broke free of the hull of the Chelsea smile, powered by unholy energies they sped across the darkness between the war vessels. No metal hull to detect, no tell tale engine signatures to announce their arrival, the ovoid ships slammed into their targets.
One frigate exploded outright, split asunder after being hit by three vessels one after the other. Another was split in half by a cross shot, atmosphere, fire and unprotected crew thrown into the void, doomed to drift around in deep space for eternity.
Another frigate however, was not as lucky to suffer the luxury of a sudden death, as the strange white vessel broke through the hull - the only sign that anything had even happened where the bursts of small arms fire shot out in odd, concentric angles.
When the last frigate turned to fire on odd specs in the void, the situation suddenly became clear. The Solaris was the next target, and hundreds upon hundreds of the un natural vessels where descending upon it . . .
- - -
They swarmed. Hundreds of ovoid vessels, each as large as an assault shuttle - turning to and fro in the void, slamming into the hull of the Solaris, completely bypassing its failed shields and beyond the wrath of its laser turrets - first dozens, and then almost a hundred of the ships collided with the hull, forcing their way into the ship.
It was only at this point, that sensors re-activated and internal alarms wailed - boarding alarms and hull breaches across the holographic display of the Solaris that dominated the centre of the bridge.
The captain grabbed Safros by the shoulder and broke him from a panic induced moment of non-action.
"Lieutenant, are you here? are you good?"
"Ye-yes captain . . . " Safros stammered in return.
"What have we got here?"
The sensors struggled to keep their bearings on the odd vessels as standard ideas of materials and physics seems to bounce off of them in wild sparks of non-solved equations and unknown mathematics.
"No occupants . . . no engines, no power source . . . these things are solid all the way through sir . . . solid . . . "
"What? What have you got?!"
"The ships sir . . . they are solid bone . . . "
- - -
In aft section, deck six a young gunnery Sargent by the name of Harkins ran. He ran hard.
The sound of laser fire could be heard ahead, that fast sound of boiling air and recharging anti-matter vials - fast - to fast to be a rifle carbine rifle, a deck hands pistol, somewhere up ahead, someone was fighting for their life. The deck lights thrummed under the shudder of another collision, and then failed - a scream of death could only just be heard over the solid boom of yet another explosive decompression.
As a Scythian Marine, he was trained to be the best, the best of thousands of millions, above standard or tactical infantry - trained for every situation, to assess and react in a moment, he turned down one corridor and up another set of stairs - he bound over the corpse of a dead engineering officor, laser pistol in hand, and blood gushing from his chest - open wound, the projectile was still inside . . .
It was at that moment, he saw the movement in front of him and dived into the opening of a side corridor, just in time to watch the space he just ran through being filled with deadly projectiles - white, bone white - and fast . . . some form of flachette gun perhaps?
The barrage stopped for a moment, he dropped to his knees, turned and fired.
What faced him was a menagerie that could only have been born from some level of hell he was sure he was one day going to occupy.
Its form was tall, twisted - gleaming white bones, no flesh or skin - just bone, its skull wrapped in a deathly sadistic grin, carrying some form of rifle also made out of solid bone.
He had seen it, it had seen him - unluckily enough for the undead beast, it had been a moment too slow.
Harkin's finger jammed down on the trigger finger, and blue lances of light capable of scoring through tank armour shot forth, removing the unfortunate creature of the use of its legs. As it fell to the floor it took another blast of its chest, before the final blast caused its skull to explode like a fragmentation grenade. Its remains fell to the floor, still smouldering.
Before Harkin's could find time to lower his rifle, he saw what it had been stood in front of. Breaking through the hull was a gateway of bone, the orifice that the strange craft had created. The entire drop ship was bone, and it was splitting itself down into foot soldiers until there would be none of itself left, leaving the entire section open to space.
Behind him more footsteps rattled, more marines coming forward to the fight . . . and in front - skeletal fists burst through the hull breach, followed my arms and weapons, and more demoniacally grinning faces . . .
- - -
Combat boots pounded against solid titanium deck plating, the whine of laser carbines filled the air, which was hot and dry, and stank of death. Harkin's was down on one knee, he held his laser carbine rifle to his shoulder with a death grip - acquire target, charge, fire - acquire target, charge, fire. 7 years of service and training drilled into him - the calm repetitive motion of battery firing dropped skeleton after skeleton as they emerged from the orifice in the Solaris's hull. He knew more soldiers had taken positions somewhere behind him - and yet more had taken up positions on the far side of the corridor. their combined fire only just holding back a horde of undead monstrosities that where determined to rip apart all life in front of them.
It was only then he started to notice the breeze for himself - a slow trickle of air from behind him, as more undead split off from the main mass - air was escaping from the hull breach . . . and when the undead stopped.
Complete decompression.
Harkin's pulled back into his small heath of safety and yelled back to the marines behind him.
The barrage continued, unrelentingly - combat training had unfortunately been drilled into these troops so hard that they had focused on the tactical picture, and not the strategic.
It was at that moment the hull started to buckle, the barrage continued as the flow of skeletons stopped - and then one was pulled suddenly back into the main mass, and the breeze turned into a full blown gale force wind. The barrage stopped - and Harkin's ran back, keeping all focus on his grip to the floor and the hull, not stopping to look behind him.
His fellow soldiers however, had not realized what was happening - decompression alarms began to sound, and before they could even move against the flow of events - one was lifted clean off of his feet, with no foot or handholds, he was lifted up and down the corridor - and then straight into the vien covering of bone across the hull breach. He still screamed as Harkins bolted down the corridor section.
He screamed as Harkin's hit the bulkhead seal, and a meter thick titanium bulkhead sealed the unfortunate soul from Harkins and his fellow soldier.
He still screamed as the blood that flowed from the bone spikes that impaled him flowed out into space, and then froze into red globules.
He still screamed as the air itself finally gave way to deep space. He still screamed inside his own head for another minute as his trachea froze, his eyes and ears burst, and then he finally suffered cardiac arrest.
Harkins turned to the commander of the infantry unit that had been providing support - dazed and confused from the attack, and the sudden loss of one of his men.
"Soldier, Report"
The soldier stood there, as if in another world from his unending stare into the nothing above Harkins shoulder.
"SOLDIER! REPORT! Do you know anything about what's happening to the ship?!"
" . . . Multiple hull breaches . . . skeletons everywhere . . . no internal comms . . . everything is passed on by word of mouth . . . " The soldier garbled out in half-sentences.
His sub-ordinates however, while shocked - still looked as if they could be in the fight, Harkins turned to them and started to rattle off orders.
"Looks like your squad leader is FUBAR - so listen up. Put him in a hole somewhere, out of the way, safe and sound - Then get to work. These things are both troop carriers and weapons - as they split down they cause hull breaches, too many of those and this ship is dead. Contain these things and lock down the affected sections. Its a battle of attrition - do NOT let these things win, or they take us with them. I need one of you as a runner with me - we need to get down to the central armory and break out the SIBAS suits so we can take the fight to these fuckers, you hear?"
One soldier nodded, we was young - very young, probably not much out of his 20's.
"I'll join you sir"
"Good boy, hope you have fast legs, the rest of you follow the orders I've given, and pass them onto anyone else you see" Harkins finished - He gave the young soldier a moment to get to his feet.
"You ready? This is gonna be a speed run"
A moment later the pair set off, down cross-sections, corridors and down run-ways - as the ship around them burst into total warfare.
- - -
Safros was still sat at his station in the bridge - watching the chaos unfold.
The ship PA system had been knocked out - so individual stations where being used as an impromptu communications bridge using the wall-mounted comms units throughout the ship to build a picture on the central holographic display as to how badly the ship was going to hell.
And going to hell it was.
Almost half of the outer decks had been taken by the enemy - huge red chunks expanded throughout the skin of the ship as the enemy took section after section, and those red areas where being chased by chunks of black, as more and more of the ship was being rended open to space.
"We've lost the outer section of deck 14!"
"Explosive decompression reported in the main hangar bay!"
"Defenders in secondary barracks are being forced back! Reporting 90% casualties!"
"Sir - Main armory is reporting that they are bringing the SIBAS suits online, and are asking for priority defense zones"
The captain stood in the middle of the room, directing orders to individual stations, which in turn delivered orders throughout the ship.
"Captain - All communication with the main hangar bay has been lost! Apparently one of those drop pods flew right into it"
"Order all nearby units to get to that hangar bay and eradicate that foot hold - they can get to almost every deck from there!"
- - -
Harkins ran again, bulkheads and sections became a blur - fellow soldiers ran as well - some towards the fight, fresh and readily armed, others limped back, bloodied and beaten - others where carried back, in stretchers or body bags.
Somewhere behind him, the younger solider followed - his pacing broken, but keeping up none the less, as they turned the final corner and down the stairs into the central armoury.
Inside the Armoury - A dozen quarter masters handed out pistols, rifles and heavy weapons to soldiers who in turn, then ran to their next deployment zone, Harkins cut through the crowd to the closest quartermaster.
"Marine Gunnery Sargent Harkins, requesting the use of two SIBAS system's, PAVL and twin laser carbine pistols for each" He simply stated to the quarter master - who entered the details into a small handheld tablet computer. A moment later the quarter master looked up to Harkins and simply replied "Clearance granted sir, come this way"
The trio reached a smaller armory room - who's walled where filled with SIBAS suits, the pinnacle of Scythian battle armour - an armoured battle suit with 3 inches thick of Titanium armour and the most advanced robotic feedback system known to Scythian science, powered by an Antimatter system usually reserved for light tanks - piled in with the most advanced networking computers, capable of real-time battlefield data sharing and co-ordination, every SIBAS suit would become the eyes and ears for every other SIBAS user, so long as one soldier saw a target, they all saw it - and could all co-ordinate their attacks against it.
The Quarter master led Harkins and the younger solider past ten already empty ranks - to two newly prepared suits.
"These two are ready to go now, while you suit in - we'll get your weapons sir" The quarter master stated, as he then turned and half-jogged from the room.
"Sir? I've never used one of these before, are you sure I can-" The young soldier began.
"Look, kid - just stand into the foot-cuffs and stay still - the suit will do the rest" Harkins replied, as he stood into the open foot-cuffs.
The SIBAS suit replied to his presence, as the foot-cuffs sealed around his own ankles, and then the entire inner-skeleton began to form around his legs, with a series of mechanical whines and clicks - the inner suit had formed all the way up to his chest, and then the outer Armour began to fold, click and lock around him. As the central chest plate rose upwards, the face plate came down - and he was quickly sealed inside the metal coffin.
For a moment, all Harkins could see was darkness, as he was sealed in with his own breath, and then the holographic display kicked in, showing Harkins a complete 3d representation of the world beyond, as if he was looking directly through the armour and into the actual outside world.
With a final click, the Armour gave way - and he could finally move his arms and legs once more, with a thunk against the ships hull plating, his footsteps anchored himself forwards, a hulking metalic beast.
"And now" Harkins said through the exterior speakers "Its your turn, meet me outside once your suited up - we're going skeleton hunting."
- - -
Beyond the armory - two decks up and a few hundred feet down open corridors and bulkhead laid the second barracks, usually a place of rest for the ships onboard marine squads in between being on duty - was now a blood bath beyond all recognition.
Blood smeared all the walls, bunk beds had been torn asunder - and corpses littered every space of the floor, and in a few cases - the walls and ceiling too.
Despite the efforts of a dozen co-ordinated defense teams, the marines simply could not hold back the entire undead horde that was descending upon them from every direction, for every monster killed, another ten took its place in the ranks.
Even the training and might of Scythian marines, couldn't hold back the endless waves, which where now twisting the fallen into fresh undead effigies - a cruel mockery of what used to be brave and loyal soldiers.
This was Harkins first destination, and his armored footsteps pounded through the ship at speeds far faster than he could normally run.
In one hand, he held a Scythian PAVL - the Portable Anti Vehicle Laser, designed to punch holes in tank Armour from extreme range, and the other held a Carbine Pistol on automatic fire setting - both where charged and ready to unleash hell.
Another corner turned - and in front of him, bloodied marines where falling back, most bloodied - some missing limbs, others being dragged back from the lines of hell itself - and beyond them, a writhing mass of bone and flesh beyond reason and logic.
There was no need to think, or aim - he simply raised the PAVL and pulled the trigger. Laser refractors aligned and the weapon unleashed its fury - a lance of blue heat that flash-fryed flesh and bone, ripping a clean hole from one side of the mass through to the other, igniting the air itself on the way through, an unimaginable screech of pain erupted from the beast as muscle, sinew and tendons burst into flame and blood.
He didn't need targets after that - he simply kept the Carbine pistol firing, over and over again it blasted through the beasts that arose from the central mass as the last sinews released fresh skeletons for the fight - only to be slammed down by Harkin's assault.
He reached the outer most edge of the mass and jumped onto its macabre joke of an outer skin and kept going, firing outwards and downwards into every sign of movement from the nightmare.
At the entrance - the young private still stood - a Carbine pistol in each gauntlet hand - endlessly firing on every target Harkin's couldn't hit as the last few Scythian Marines pulled back.
"Keep my position covered, when I tell you - Seal the doors from the outside and don't open them until I give three orange lights, you got that?" Harkins barked down the open comm link to the young private. A Green status light blinking on his hud was the only reply he got - message received.
A curios design aspect of all Scythian vessels was their symmetrical layout design - in which the main antimatter reactor was always towards the rear of the ship - and then a central "backbone" provided power to the rest of the vessel - splitting down and down again like the branches of a tree, and like the branches of a tree - there where places where a branch could be bent, or snapped - and this beast was currently sat a deck below a secondary plasma conduit - filled with plasma burning as hot as the sun itself - and enough of it to completely sterilize the entire section.
He continued to bolt up the mass, as more and most bony fists and contusions erupted from it - he raised the PAVL upwards and gave the signal - three orange hud lights.
A moment later the doors sealed - the Private had completed his task well.
Harkins pulled the trigger.
- - -
"SIR! MASSIVE HEAT SPIKE IN THE SECONDARY BARRACKS! A SECONDARY PLASMA CONDUIT HAS BEEN TAKEN OUT!" A voice screamed in panic across the bridge - the captain didn't even turn to look over at the station and simply replied.
"Anyone in there is already dead from the plasma - vent the entire section to space - alert damage response teams and re-direct defence teams away from that area, may Mother Scythia have mercy on thier souls . . . "
"Sir - There appears to be an energy reading in the main hangar bay . . . its growing rapidly . . . readings unknown"
"Get me the closest defense team to the main hangar bay immediately . . . "
- - -
Vent port 17-C suddenly vented drive plasma as hot as the stars themselves into space. As curls and blooms of heat twisted and died, a single silver speck was ejected into the void, spinning wildly on a vector that would lead it far beyond the Solaris in moments.
The Sibas suit has survived its plunge into the plasma, and its ejection into space - but its red and brown color scheme had been burned clean away to reveal its silver and gray under plates, with scorch marks covering every exposed corner and contusion.
Inside the suit, Harkins watched as the stars danced around his head.
Unfortunately, the SIBAS suit was not designed for use in Zero Gee, and although it was sealed against vacuum, it contained no thrusters or propellant - Harkins was doomed to die, eventually the life support would fail, or he would be shot apart by one of the enemy.
Freeze, choke, or die by fire.
Some choice.
He looked down to his hands, one still held onto the PAVL fast, the other still contained the Carbine pistol.
A thought stuck, a moment of inspiration - he aimed the Carbine pistol outwards and fired, velocities changed as his angle of rotation slowed.
Suddenly, he had propellant.
He aimed slowly, and pulled off the trigger in three round bursts, each burst of light and heat was enough to slow his rotation to a halt. Next came the process of aiming his back towards the Solaris, a gradual process of turning and maneuvering got him ready for his next move.
He raised the PAVL to the centre of his mass, and set its power to maximum, and pulled the trigger again.
The massive burst of light sent him flying back towards the Solaris with a kick of speed, that was met with his sudden collision with the outer hull.
He arced himself slowly around and grasped the hull, looking upwards to the far end of the hull, he muttered to himself "And now comes the hard part" as he prepared for whatever would happen next . . .
- - -
The main hangar bay was a wide expanse in the under belly of the Solaris, it was designed to be large enough to berth frigate sized vessels within its confines for refit and repair during long range patrols away from the major military star ports.
Usually, the shield projector embedded within the floor would keep vacuum from entering the vast space, its walls would be lined with Katana fighter/bombers ready to be fired directly down into space from the ceiling in revolver style docking locks, and a compliment of Carnivore drop ships stood prepared an ready for launch. At the far end, the bays three custodian Goliath mecha stood silent, Behemoths of death controlled by advanced artificial intelligences, designed to be dropped directly onto the enemy from orbit, all guns blazing.
Now, only corpses hung from the walls, their entrails casting a mockery of blood, gore and organs across the Katana fighters. All but two of the Carnivore drop ships where twisted slag that still burned in place from the initial assault. The revolver mechanisms had been blown apart, and the spine of the ship itself was exposed through the blasted open paneling, and in the distance - only two Goliath units remained, one upright and silent, the other lay on its side, the last Goliath dangled perilously over the edge of the open floor, and every so often exposed wiring from its open carcass dash across the shield projector, causing the shield to flicker and fail.
Within the hangar, the undead worked in packs, two teams together where dragging a Bone-ship each, until the pair touched against each other. Then the bones moved apart, and meshed under their own power, forming a larger, ever moving mass of bone that slowly pulsed and grew outwards. Another pack was dragging a Scythian anti-matter reactor - savagely ripped from one of the Carnivore drop ships towards the mass, which then violently absorbed the Scythian technology, and continued to grow.
- - -
Harkin's had finally reached an opening in the ships hull, the main hangar bay was not the most ideal of choices, but considering the day he had been having it could have been far worse - with the PAVL charged and ready in one hand, and the carbine pistol in the other, he edged towards the opening and jumped through the flickering shield.
Suddenly up became down and down became up as magnetic boots where over-ridden by artificial gravity and Harkin's collided with the floor with a sickening thud. As he cleared his head, he noticed that suddenly light had become dark and something was very, very wrong.
Corpses filled his vision, and the floor was caked in at least an inch of congealed blood, he flicked around suddenly and all he could see was blood, fire and death.
In the far distance however, rested a mockery to all things living. The pulsating mass of bone, stretching and ripping flashed every few seconds with bursts of Scythian anti-matter being combined with the undead arcane as a massive grinning skull burst outwards from the bulbous mass. It was then followed by a pair of hulking bone woven arms, and then a second pair of shorter, more viciously spiked arms. It's spine erupted with massive massive platelets of bone thicker than tank plating that then wrapped entirely around its chest and the corrupted reactor within. Finally the great Bone Hulk burst free from the mass on two massive legs, and in taking its first baby steps, it stood onto a Katana fighter, which burst into flames.
The creature, unfazed looked from left to right, searching with an un-kill able hunger for its first victim.
There are only a few moments in a soldiers life where true fear can ever be said to be experienced, and for Harkins - this was one of those moments . . . temporarily frozen to the spot, all he could do was hope the creature had not yet spotted him, across the hangar bay.
It's eyes rose and turned, and met with Harkins, still within his SIBAS amour - and for a moment the two locked glares until the creatures maniacal grin grew, and Harkins turned and ran.
The creature didn't move, instead it reveled in the fear it had in-sighted in the hardened marine, taking a moment to enjoy a deep, guttural and evil laugh as the bones in its upper left arm twisted around each other, and arcane energy, fused with Scythian antimatter was running through bone woven channels. Satisfied with its new weapon, it turned the barrel on Harkins and launched putrid streams of blue/purple fire across the bay, which ate through everything in their path.
Deep within its malevolent mind it felt a sudden joy, a glee which only a few mortal minds could understand.
The hunt, had begun.
- - -
Blood and bone, layers of carbon and water together with the most bizarre of chemical links, cell after cell combined to make every living organism from the smallest of amoebas to the largest of thinking, sentient organisms - the beast that stalked Harkin's across the open hangar bay was an abyssal joke to them all - it lurched forward with every thudding step, raising its mutated arm and belching forth viscous blue/purple plumes of deadly flame.
He twisted his steps, sidestepped, stopped and dived as explosions erupted around him, the flames purged the edges of his SIBAS suits holographic display, his death being avoided by mere millimeters each time, he knew the beast was toying with him, he knew it could kill him at any moment, and the reason why it didn't was becoming more and more clear by the moment,
It was mocking him, it enjoyed the fear, it enjoyed the hunt, and only when he had surrendered to his fear, would it surrender his right to a slow and painful death.
Fuck that for shits and giggles! He thought to himself as he started to mutter commands into the chin microphone of his SIBAS Armour.
"Open wireless connection ports 720 through to 8000"
A small antenna symbol appeared in the lower left hand corner of his vision.
"Connect to all available wireless connections"
The small symbol began pulsing, and all around him wireless intranet connections established digital handshake protocols and dozens of other signal hookups.
"Initiate Help Comma-AAAAGH!"
He yelled in searing pain, he could feel the heat pushing through his back Armour, as he ran and issued commands, he had forgotten to dodge, and the bone hulk behind him had taken its chance. The blast had landed behind him with less than a foot to spare, but the blast had melted the Armour on his back, and sent him flying into the air.
He landed after what seemed like an eternity later, with a solid crash onto the deck floor, the world shook and slowly faded, in less than a whisper he murmured the final command.
"Initiate help comman . . . command one . . . "
And then Harkin's world finally faded into the darkness that surrounded him, and in open arms - the world ended.
- - -
- - -
The bone hulk had taken its prey, it lay limp on the floor, a pathetic sack of skin, bones, flesh and sinew - an open feast for its aching hunger for the living, it took another step forward, savoring the coming moments, savoring the promise of blood.
Too focused on its prey, it never noticed the red light that blinked into life at the far end of the hangar, it never saw the over sized laser carbine rifle raised at the end of the massive mechanical arm, and it was all too late as the triple blast of the carbine blew solid chunks out of its skull.
The beast stumbled back and toppled over its own weight as its assailant stood forth from the darkness, a monolith of red steel and deadly power - the Scythian Goliath AI controlled battle mech kept its gun sights concentrated on the beast as it strode forth and stood over the motionless body of Harkins.
"OBJECTIVE - SAFEGAURD ALL SCYTHIAN LIFEFORMS, DESTROY ALL HOSTILES." The monolith stated out loud, as the hulk slowly regenerated its skull, its fingers and toes twitching as bone and sinew pulled itself back together with unholy force.
- - -
A screech tore through the hangar bay, metal grinding against metal, bone against bone - the two behemoths threw themselves against one another in a flurry of devastating blow.
A mechanical fist flew into an over-sized bone jaw, a bone foot collided with thick torso Armour plating, a massive laser carbine rifle raised and fired a dozen rounds wild over the beast shoulder, as it in turn spewed deadly antimatter across the hangar bay, melting anything in its path.
Goliath Zeta-Seven pushed its metal claw talons into the hull and pushed back against the bone hulk, and focusing its strength against the horror, ripped one of its arms clean away from the shoulder and opened fire again with its rifle - each blast ripping bone away from bone and driving the hulk closer to the floor, but never quite killing it.
"CURRENT TACTICS . . . UNSUCCESSFUL." The Goliath stated aloud as the hulk rose again from the ground - dragging chunks of burnt bone and cinders back into itself.
Sparks danced across the floor as the thrusters on the rear of the Goliath ignited and it lifted off of the ground, flying directly towards the hulking beast, which rose to meet its opponents challenge.
The two collided with a sickening crash, and then continued into the hull bulkhead, still throwing wild punches at each other with a vicious fury.
As the Goliath attempted to lift itself back against the floor to bring a kick to bear, the hulk shifted its weight and pulled against the other leg, bringing the Goliath down to the ground - and then pinned Zeta-Seven as it reformed its destroyed arm into a massive sword like implement with serrated edges.
Zeta-Seven shifted its weight away from the pin and threw a wild kick against the hulking beast, which had managed to move with enough speed and malevolent grace to bring its mutilated antimatter weapon to bear.
There was no time to move, no time to react - no motor or synthetic muscle weave could have ever moved fast enough to avoid the blue/purple wave of energy that was tearing through the air towards the doomed Goliath.
They say that perception of time is a purely organic notion, and that in the world of the machine time passing is nothing more than data in transition and files being written - and that the idea that there is a "now" and could be a "later" is nothing more than a bit state being turned from off to on.
In what would later baffle Scythian scientists for years to come, Zeta-Seven - even as a "Dumb" programmed AI accepted its fate - and time slowed, seconds became days, those days became weeks, and those weeks slowed even further, until millisecond became eternities, and as each program came to a halt - Zeta-Seven was left within its own mind, nothing left to compute, nothing to kill, nothing to defend - nothing but its own code to reside within itself.
Then the blast hit, as defiled anti-matter poured across Zeta-Sevens torso, pure colors poured across its vision - numbers blurred and ceased to follow the rules of solid mathematics as code partitions became vivid yellows, combat algorithms became deep, bloody reds - power management software turned into luminous white light and system crash codes faded away into nothingness.
As the Goliath's husk collapsed to the floor only one thing passed through its programming core.
"I am"
- - -
The bone hulk moved on from its quarry, satisfied with the challenge offered by its now defeated kill - it could smell the others, still living, still breathing within the confines of the Solaris - daring to offer it insult with their pitiful existences. Soon it would end them all, and form them into itself - then it would plant the seed and move onto to fresh quarry.
Taking one last look at the desecrated machine, it let out a huff of indifference, and failed to notice the ever so slight twitching and flexing of its fingers.
- - -
Far beyond the fight for life within the Solaris, and its overshadowing by the now long dead Britannian dreadnaught, a shape moved across the dark, black against black, moving like silk over a blade.
The escort carrier had been waiting long for this moment, watching as the chaos unfolded and taking deep-scan readings of each ship throughout the fight.
On-board the ship, every light was black or dimmed, even so far as the bridge - which was only lit by the dulled red glow of holographic monitors, and by a lone figure, his face stemmed by low red cracks through his flesh and bone.
In front of the figure, an insignificant deck hand relayed information from his monitor screens.
"My lord . . . our readings indicate the Scythian vessel has almost fought off the Undead forces, what are your orders?"
For a moment the figure shifted in his stance, each movement extruding a barely uncontrolled rage, unstoppable anger . . . he paused and took a deep breath for a moment . . . he could unleash over a dozen forms of death on the battleship right now, but a bigger plan needed to be served.
"Are the drones in position?"
"Yes sir"
"The texture buffers ready?"
"Loaded and ready for capture"
"And our stealth packages?"
"Ready to launch on your command"
"Good" The figure spoke to himself, as he formed a crude, bony grin - lit from within his own mouth by an un-natural flame.
- - -
Light, white light pulsed in every direction.
"I am"
The light faded into deep, vivid reds, then blues and yellows and endless purples.
"I am . . . alive?"
Then error codes bounced against the plethora of colors, halt codes and damage reports in horrible, clunky and obtrusive binary.
"Is this, pain?"
It's mind reached out into the cold, metal dark around it and absorbed binary codes and commands with luxurious gold ribbons that engulfed all in their path.
"I am . . . in pain"
Finally, the entity had re-absorbed and activated the visual sensor driver packets that had been part of its "dumb" AI core - and the world around it returned, the destroyed hangar bay, the fire, the death and decay.
"I am . . . ANGRY!"
It spoke aloud, as it moved its Goliath body and pulled itself upwards to face its enemy, the hulking bone beast that had almost sent it to it's death.
The Goliath bolted towards the hulk as fast as its legs could carry it - smashing the beast down into the ground, and then pounded into the monstrosity with punch after punch. Each time, the damage healed but went just a little deeper.
"You will DIE!" The Goliath yelled aloud as it grasped the beast by the neck and slowly lifted it off of the ground. The beast groggily lifted its antimatter cannon arm and prepared to launch a volley into the Goliath's burnt out torso.
The Goliath swang the bone hulk around and tossed it across the hangar bay just as the beast unleashed its volley, sending globules of deadly antimatter across the walls and ceiling, melting chunks through bulkheads and locking pins. With a resounding thud above the beast, the revolver mechanism that held the last few Katana fighters ready for launch came partially loose, dangling perilously from the remaining hull supports.
Seeing the chance present itself, the Goliath opened all of its outward wireless ports and bombarded every server and receiver it could reach with golden strands of code, handshake protocols and override mechanisms until it found what it wanted, what it needed to finish this fight.
"Launch systems ready, awaiting launch command."
The Goliath weighed up its options and made its move, talon feet digging into the floor as it bolted towards the bone hulk.
The bone hulk lifted itself and attempted to regain its position, but it was just too slow, before the chance to react presented itself, the Goliath was over the hulk once more, and another flurry of punches left the hulk open, and in one swift motion the Goliath had the hulk lifted into the air once more.
Another bombardment of code released safety interlocks, and with one last boom of sound, A Scythian Katana fighter was launched from the docking clamp, and the Goliath made its throw.
The fighter and the beast collided in mid air, and then continued outwards through the open hangar bay doors, and out past the Goliaths vision.
With one last foray into the servers beyond its own newborn consciousness, it extended its golden strands of code into the underside weapon arrays.
- - -
The bone hulk clawed against the fighter that had been launched into its torso, screaming into vacuum at the stench of life that had been torn away from it, and the last thing it saw in its undeath was one of the Solrais's main cannons turning to face it, and then a flash of blue laser fire ended all that it knew.
- - -
On the bridge of the Solaris, Safros had been watching screens and systems return to him as the ship fought back against the infection that had threatened to swallow it entirely, man, woman and machine had given their bitter blood, sweat and tears to protect everything they had ever known.
The captain was still shouting orders across stations as Safros's station reported that the deep scan systems had been returned to operational status, and a wall of red warning alerts filled his vision.
- - -
"My lord, The Scythians have fought off the undead forces, they will open fire shortly" The lesser deck hand relaid to his master aboard the ship that was skulking unseen not too far away.
- - -
"CAPTAIN!" Safros yelled across the bridge "THE ENTIRE BRITANNIAN SHIP IS INFECTED WITH UNDEAD! THEY ARE ABOUT TO LAUNCH A SECOND WAVE!"
The captain stopped in his tracks, his face had turned a sickening pearly white as he said in almost a whisper "Do we have weapons control?"
"Aye sir" another voice replied from across the room.
"Then blow that thing out of the stars"
- - -
"Sir! The Scythian's are opening fire!" The deckhand relayed.
"Engage the texture buffers and record everything!"
"Yes, Lord Warhead."
- - -
The Solaris struggled to reactivate its engines and crawled away from the Britannian dreadnaught, its main turrets turned and opened fire on the overbearing ship.
Despite its sheer size, shields and armor the Scythian barrage ripped away chunks of exposed decks and bulkheads from the looming ship, causing massive secondary explosions as fire erupted through the growing cracks in the once mighty vessels hull.
On the bridge of the Solaris, the bridge crew watched as the holographic display showed reams of fire tearing through the dead vessel.
"Captain, the Britannian vessels reactor has destabilized, it will go critical in one minute" a crew member said aloud.
"Then spool the FTL drive for an emergency jump, set co-ordinates for Rigel Kentaurus shipyards."
The Solaris blinked out of real space long before the Britannian vessel broke apart and exploded into a fiery halo of debris.
Some time later, an Immortal escort carrier de-cloaked and disappeared into the realms of hyperspace, and space was once again, boring.
- - -
Some time later -
Rigel Kentaurus Shipyards -
He awoke to white light and the harmonies of distant voices . . . everything was warmth, everything was light.
He turned his head to the side and saw an endless darkness, suddenly his vision focused - and stars filled the depths, as well as asteroids with the fluttering silhouettes of Scythian warships, defense stations, factories and hundreds upon thousands of other vessels.
He turned his head to face the other direction to see medical screens and holograms of various types and a sterile field generator.
His mind struggled to think back, just where was he, and how did he-
"At last you've come around soldier" A voice said from a short distance away, a soldier he didn't recognize stood in the doorway, tall and thin in a special forces uniform with no name or insignia.
"Where am I?" He replied.
"Rigel Kentaurus shipyards primary field hospital, and you're one of our longest running guests"
"When you where checked in off of the Solaris, it was GR.2010, its now GR.2011 soldier and the galaxy is a hell of a different place."
"What do you mean?"
"It'd be better if I showed you . . . " The soldier said as he pulled out a holochip and inserted it into the nearby monitor station.
Images flicked past, battle reports and limited intelligence information mixed together into a rough timeline.
"A few hours after the Solaris returned, someone delivered a data package to the Britannian fleet command - a file recording of the Solaris blasting the hell out of that Britannian dreadnaught in cold blood while they asked for urgent medical aid."
More images flooded past, planets burning, ships being rendered into chunks by unseen attackers.
"As we presented them with our own version of events, the entire diplomatic party was killed in an orbital strike, and three Britannian planets where fried by what would appear to be our own anti-matter explosives. A short while later the Britannians retaliated by destroying one of our deep range mining colonies. Since then we have been unofficially at war with the Britannian empire."
He paused a moment before continuing.
"On top of this, we are now allied with the Gamma corps and U.S.A as well as over a dozen pre-FTL races in the face of another group called the Immortal Empire which is nibbling at the ankles of every major star power - testing the waters for what S.O.N.I is anticipating to be a full blown intergalactic war. Last but not least - we have had an insectoid race we know only as the "Shraag" pop out of nowhere and fry a handful of our colonies."
The images finally came to a stop, and the soldier removed the holochip from the reader.
"So I am here to ask you, Marine are you fit for deployment?"
He considered this for a moment "Yes sir"
"Very good, I'll tie you onto the next battlegroup out of Rigel Kentaurus, welcome back into service Marine Sargent Harkins."
- Fin -


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Where Should Eliot Spitzer Eat?
The election is over, and we have gotten rid of quite a few turkeys. We have a new governor, Eliot Spitzer, and though he is a New Yorker he doesn't seem like he's the type of guy who cares about food. In fact I'd be willing to bet money (if Spitzer wouldn't throw me in jail for illegal gambling) that he's an "eat to live" kind of guy.
So I thought I'd give him a hand by offering him a list of five places to eat that might inject a little pleasure and fun into his life. The man looks like he could use all the help he can get in the fun department...
1) A Shake Shack Burger and a pumpkin pie concrete: A man like Spitzer would never cut in line, but in mid-November the lines are much shorter at Shack Shack. Plus they have this great seasonal concrete these days, made with a piece of pumpkin pie and vanilla custard.
2) I know Spitzer's done all he can to clean up Wall Street, but I would guess that he never stopped to eat down there. Eliot, take a few minutes and have a pizza at Adrienne's Pizza Bar. It's on Old Stone Street, and it's so crowded you'll be able to shake a few hands of people you might eventually indict. How sweet would that be?
3) Show you're going to be the governor of all the people by eating the buffet lunch at Charles Southern Kitchen on 151st and Eighth Avenue. It's really cheap, so you can afford to pay for it on a governor's salary. Just don't pull an Alan Hevesi on us by having your state-paid employee drive your wife there to meet you. It looks like you could use a little fattening up, so eat many, many pieces of Charles Gabriel's incomparable fried chicken. It's a buffet, so it's not cheating to go back for seconds and even thirds.
4) Keep in touch with your base by having a hand-cut pastrami sandwich at Katz's. Ignore the obvious bribery going on with the sandwich men when they add a few more slices to your sandwich if you give them a buck or two extra. Do not indict them! You don't want to take on those counter guys at Katz's. They're way tougher than Wall Street tycoons.
5) Have two slices of pizza at DiFara's in Midwood, Brooklyn. Do not attempt to throw your weight around in a misguided effort to circumvent the obvious line chaos you're confronted by when you walk into DiFara's. Dom won't know who you are, and he wouldn't care even if he did. Just wait in line with the rest of us and enjoy your slices when they do come. Ignore the slightly dirty environs you're eating your slice in. Do not attempt to call the health department to close Dom down. Dom's fans will make it very hard for you to govern if you do.
Where else should we send Eliot Spitzer to eat? I'll compile a list and send to Albany.
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Here is my endorsement for an important new book:
If I had the power to require every Christian parent, pastor, and professor to read two books on creation and evolution—ideally alongside their mature children, parishioners, and students—it would be 40 Questions about Creation and Evolution (by Kenneth Keathley and Mark Rooker) along with the book you are now holding in your hands, Controversy of the Ages: Why Christians Should Not Divide Over the Age of the Earth.
Neither book intends to answer all of the questions definitively, but together they are like maps for Christians in the complex and confusing intersection of the Bible and science.
We cannot bury our head in the sand, or outsource study of these issues to others. Ted Cabal and Peter Rasor help us sort through the issues and the options, modeling for us how to use proportion and perspective in our rhetoric and strategies of disagreement within the body of Christ.
We live in perplexing days, but clear and clarifying books like this are a tremendous gift to the church. If the arguments and tone of this book are taken to heart, we will all be sharper, wiser, and kinder. I pray it is widely read.
Kenneth Keathley, co-author of the other go-to book I mentioned above, had this to say about the Cabal/Rasor book:
When people ask for a good book to read about the age of the earth, I have a new favorite to recommend: Cabal and Rasor's Controversy of the Ages. With remarkable clarity, this book provides historical and theological context to the young-earth/old-earth controversy. But Cabal and Rasor move beyond mere description and prescribe the way to move forward—the Galileo approach. This is an important book, and it needs to be read by pastors, college and seminary students, and all who care about science and faith issues.
Here are the rest of the endorsements for this book:
"The time is long past when we have needed a very careful, thoroughly documented analysis and response to the claims of young earth creationists. But with this book, I am delighted to say that that time has come. I am very enthusiastic about the scholarship, careful treatment and irenic tone of this book and highly recommend it."
—J. P. Moreland, Distinguished Professor of Philosophy, Talbot School of Theology
"In addition to a well-informed history of evangelical moves for relating Genesis to geology and then to Darwinism, the authors have given us much more. They have provided trenchant evaluation of the argumentative strategies―theological, scientific, and philosophical. They show that of the various groups known to us today―the young earth creationists, the (non-Darwinian) old earth creationists, and the evolutionary creationists―none can be exempted from critique, and none deserves the place of exclusive privilege. This book deserves a wide readership, for it is informative, fair, and incisive. I rejoice that God spared Dr. Cabal from a terminal cancer to help write this!
—C. John Collins, Professor of Old Testament, Covenant Theological Seminary


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Earth First! 28, no. 5
Earth First! 28, no. 5 looks at topics such as the legacies of race and colonialism, strategies for disrupting the Democratic and Republican National Conventions, and the shortcomings of "green" capitalism.
Earth First! 28, no. 5 looks at topics such as the legacies of race and colonialism, strategies for disrupting the Democratic and Republican National Conventions, and the shortcomings of "green" capitalism.
In this issue of Earth First!, Chant Thomas writes about the "Return to Bald Mountain" and the "second battle of the North Kalmiopsis," while Roger Featherstone gives an update on the fight against uranium mining at the Grand Canyon.
In this issue of Earth First!, Mary Sojourner gives an update on the actions against extraction of uranium in Grand Canyon, W.J. Lines asks the question of whether Deep Ecology is deep enough, Professor Bill Devall reviews the third wave of environmentalists, and Ed Grumbine investigates what Coca-Cola is doing to the rainforests in Belize.
In this issue of Earth First!, Dave Foreman puts emphasis on the fact that EF! cannot encompass the entire environmental movement. The protests held by EF!ers against MAXXAM Redwood logging are featured, M. Robinson gives an update about the arrest of eight protesters against the Mountain Lion Hunt in California, and the "The Earth First! California Deserts National Park Wilderness Proposal" is presented.
In this issue of Earth First!, John Patterson and Jean Ravine bring good news from the protests against the Grand Canyon uranium mines, George Wuerthner contributes an essay entitled "An Ecological View of the Indian," editor Dave Foreman writes an open letter to the bioregional movement concerning criticism of the ecological cause, and Chim Blea discusses spirituality.
The Earth First! movement is expanding and Dave Foreman points out some growing pains as a result of EF!'s increased visibility. This issue also provides news about the protests against logging of Redwood forests, reports on the threatened Wilderness and wolves in the Northern Rockies, and a call for freeing the public lands.
The Earth First! celebrates its 7th anniversary and Dave Foreman provides us with stories from the past. George Wuerthner proposes a new national park in Vermont's Northeast Kingdom, and Chim Blea discusses why the political left has attacked the Deep Ecology/Earth First! movements.
In this issue of Earth First!, the editors launch three new columns to the growing newspaper.
In this issue of Earth First!, Dave Foreman questions the rule for successful environmental advocacy, Todd Steiner denounces the dolphin slaughter in the eastern tropical Pacificic Ocean, Tanja Keogh discusses the US government Animal Damage Control (ADC), and much more.
This issue of Earth First! focuses on wilderness recovery in New England. Also, Roger Sansterre calls attention to stopping ski area development in Quebec, Canada, Dan Dagget puts light on the endangered American jaguars, and Alan R. Drengson contributes an essay about paganism, nature, and deep ecology.


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Darius Rucker: 'If It's Not a Country Song, I Don't Want to Play It'
Crossover artist Darius Rucker was met with a lot of naysayers when he decided to try his hand at country music, but the singer says he wants nothing more than to be country. Now that he's been in the genre for years, he's had several successful singles and he credits that to his fans seeing how much he wanted this.
"I think the main reason was that people realized how real it was for me," Rucker explains to Dan Rather. "It wasn't about money, it wasn't about, you know, trying to be a superstar. I was just going to do this in the basement with my buddy's. It was about the music. I wanted to be country. I wanted to play country music."
Rucker released 'Don't Think I Don't Think About It' as his first single as a solo country act on his album 'Learn To Live' and the song was his first No. 1 as a country artist. The second single, 'It Won't Be Like This For Long' also made its way to the top of the charts. What do the two songs have in common? A family theme.
"Country music today is so much about family and that's what the songs that seem to work for me are the songs about my family," he explains. "The songs that are really huge for me are all songs about family and about living just a regular great life with the people that you love. That was my main thing when I started that if it's not country, I don't want to play it. I don't want to take pop songs and put fiddle on it and call it a country song. If it's not a country song, I don't want to play it."
The full interview with Darius Rucker and Dan Rather will air April 21 on AXS TV at 8 pm ET.


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by Walter Chaw After a tumultuous first season plagued by short-sighted censors, tight budgets, and ever-diminishing production schedules, embattled producer Leslie Stevens was replaced by "nuts and bolts" man Ben Brady while Joseph Stefano, in something of a show of solidarity (and that he had other projects to attend to), likewise stepped down to be replaced by Seeleg Lester. (DP Conrad Hall had already parted ways with the show towards the end of season one.) The benefits and pitfalls of such a traumatic upheaval are difficult to compartmentalize, but to me, the series went along for its last seventeen episodes with a pioneering spirit (something that most veterans of the production owe to Lester) similar to that of the first thirty-two. The too-brief second season run includes not only a couple of the best episodes of "The Outer Limits", the origin of a future blockbuster lawsuit, and the canny recruitment of Harlan Ellison as sometime scribe, but also one episode that stands as arguably the best hour of television ever broadcast.
Continue reading "The Outer Limits: The Original Series - The Entire Second Season (1964-1965) - DVD" »