Author: Staff

Hazy crazy days: with dad in Amsterdam’s coffee shops

‘Listen, I don’t want to do any of that cultural stuff,” my dad, John, said, as we planned our trip to Amsterdam, “I just want to get baked.”

I had gone but a short distance further when what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine.

Dismounting, I laid Powell upon the ground, but the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest spark of life. I forced water from my canteen between his dead lips, bathed his face and rubbed his hands, working over him continuously for the better part of an hour in the face of the fact that I knew him to be dead.

I was very fond of Powell; he was thoroughly a man in every respect; a polished southern gentleman; a staunch and true friend; and it was with a feeling of the deepest grief that I finally gave up my crude endeavors at resuscitation.

Leaving Powell’s body where it lay on the ledge I crept into the cave to reconnoiter. I found a large chamber, possibly a hundred feet in diameter and thirty or forty feet in height; a smooth and well-worn floor, and many other evidences that the cave had, at some remote period, been inhabited. The back of the cave was so lost in dense shadow that I could not distinguish whether there were openings into other apartments or not.

The tax man even cites a specific statute: “Whoever purchases goods at an unseemly low price to take advantage of the seller’s ignorance shall be subject to a fine equaling 200 percent of the earnings from any such transaction.”

You can admit to tax evasion and pay a penalty, or you can deny any wrongdoing. Choose that option and you’ll be commended by the tax man; he’ll even give you a “Taxpayer in Good Standing” diploma, which he recommends you frame and hang in honor.

The cowhide exploit involved killing cows and collecting their hides. Players quickly discovered that if they mediated for a certain period of time, cows in one early area of the game would respawn every time they woke up. Thus, players could stock up on cow hides to their heart’s content and then sell them for a nice fee. CD Projekt Red addressed this by deploying the Bovine Defense Force Initiative, which took the form of a hulking, ultra-powerful nasty monster who kills anyone trying to cash in.

Browne Sanders made up her allegations against Thomas

The Money Quotes via Ben Golliver

I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house. There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their feet dangling, and ~~amusing themselves–until I stopped them~~–by throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders. Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it.

I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet.

[blockquote author=”DALAI LAMA” pull=”normal”]Our prime purpose in this life is to
help others. And if you can’t help them,
at least don’t hurt them.[/blockquote]

It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the grey scale of the Thing was no ~~common oxide, that the yellowish-white metal that gleamed in the crack~~ between the lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue.

Soon the crew came on board in two

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: ‘Where’s the other ladder?—Why, I hadn’t to bring but one; Bill’s got the other—Bill! fetch it here, lad!—~~Here, put ’em up at this corner~~. No, tie ’em together first—they don’t reach half high enough yet—Oh! they’ll do well enough; don’t be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it’s coming down! Heads below!’ (a loud crash)—’Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I fancy—Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan’t! YOU do it!—That I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you’re to go down the chimney!’

‘Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has he?’ said Alice to herself. ‘Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn’t be in Bill’s place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!’

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn’t guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself ‘This is Bill,’ she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

October 5, 2015
Stats show Arsenal’s Francis Coquelin is the best defensive midfielder in the Premier League

The French midfielder has gone from being a bit-part fringe player to one of the most vital cogs in Arsene Wenger’s machine. And the 24-year-old has become a fan favourite among the Emirates faithful, with many claiming he is now the best defensive midfielder in the Premier League.

More than all, his treacherous retreats struck more of dismay than perhaps aught else. For, when swimming before his exulting pursuers, with every apparent symptom of alarm, he had several times been known to turn round suddenly, and, bearing down upon them, either stave their boats to splinters, or drive them back in consternation to their ship. Already several fatalities had attended his chase. But though similar disasters, however little bruited ashore, were by no means unusual in the fishery; yet, in most instances, such seemed the White Whale’s infernal aforethought of ferocity.

Judge, then, to what pitches of inflamed, distracted fury the minds of his more desperate hunters were impelled, when amid the chips of chewed boats?

On the sidewalks during Fashion Week, lewk-wearers will attempt some styling tricks that might look incredible in a picture, but don’t necessarily work for the real world. Take that whole thing about throwing your jacket over your shoulders — at this point, it’s a street style cliché. But leave it to fashion people to ~~turn toward something even more challenging~~ as trends start to tire…

We call it the forced shoulder exposure. Whether you’re wearing your jackets around your elbows or pulling a wide neckline down and around a shoulder, manipulating your clothes to look like they’re already halfway off has made its way from a runway styling trend to a Fashion Week attendee trend. If we read the patterns, that means you’ll probably be seeing a real-life version on the street in just a few months…or maybe in the mirror?

I can see why she wouldn’t be into talking to me, another nosy reporter. So, I’m pleasantly surprised when she arrives and greets me with a warm hug that lasts longer than I expect it to. Her raven hair and impossibly long eyelashes are every bit as dazzling in person as they are in her glamorous Instagram selfies. Save for a bit of sparkle shadow on her lids, she appears to be makeup-free. She is only 5-foot-5, but she seems statuesque in her cropped sweater, high-waisted leggings, and heels. The outfit gives the illusion that she is nearly all legs.

After the hug, Gomez sits down, tucks her hair behind her ear, folds her hands — nails painted a deep, slate gray and carefully filed into pointy talons — and waits for the first question. She’s all business. After spending years being judged in the press and media-trained by the Disney machine, she has built up a protective wall that can seem impenetrable. Finding out who she really is — beyond the gossip — is like digging for fossils with a Q-tip.

HOW TO CONTROL YOUR DREAMS

But by 20 minutes in, we’re getting somewhere. We talk about the complexities of female self-confidence — at best, it’s schizophrenic — and we laugh about an Amy Schumer joke that she roughly translates as, “Some mornings you wake up and you’re like, ‘Everything about me is amazing!’ And the next morning you’re like, ‘How did anybody ever sleep with me?’”

On the sidewalks during Fashion Week, lewk-wearers will attempt some styling tricks that might look incredible in a picture, but don’t necessarily work for the real world. Take that whole thing about throwing your jacket over your shoulders — at this point, it’s a street style cliché. But leave it to fashion people to ~~turn toward something even more challenging~~ as trends start to tire…

We call it the forced shoulder exposure. Whether you’re wearing your jackets around your elbows or pulling a wide neckline down and around a shoulder, manipulating your clothes to look like they’re already halfway off has made its way from a runway styling trend to a Fashion Week attendee trend. If we read the patterns, that means you’ll probably be seeing a real-life version on the street in just a few months…or maybe in the mirror?

I can see why she wouldn’t be into talking to me, another nosy reporter. So, I’m pleasantly surprised when she arrives and greets me with a warm hug that lasts longer than I expect it to. Her raven hair and impossibly long eyelashes are every bit as dazzling in person as they are in her glamorous Instagram selfies. Save for a bit of sparkle shadow on her lids, she appears to be makeup-free. She is only 5-foot-5, but she seems statuesque in her cropped sweater, high-waisted leggings, and heels. The outfit gives the illusion that she is nearly all legs.

After the hug, Gomez sits down, tucks her hair behind her ear, folds her hands — nails painted a deep, slate gray and carefully filed into pointy talons — and waits for the first question. She’s all business. After spending years being judged in the press and media-trained by the Disney machine, she has built up a protective wall that can seem impenetrable. Finding out who she really is — beyond the gossip — is like digging for fossils with a Q-tip.

HOW TO CONTROL YOUR DREAMS

But by 20 minutes in, we’re getting somewhere. We talk about the complexities of female self-confidence — at best, it’s schizophrenic — and we laugh about an Amy Schumer joke that she roughly translates as, “Some mornings you wake up and you’re like, ‘Everything about me is amazing!’ And the next morning you’re like, ‘How did anybody ever sleep with me?’”

After an hour, Selena Gomez is giving me a tour of her tattoos. There are six in all: a tiny music note on her right wrist was her first. “I wanted something small to test the waters,” she says. “Now I’m addicted.” There’s the initial “G” behind her left ear for her 2-year-old sister, Gracie; her mother’s birthday in Roman numerals on the back of her neck; a Bible verse on her right hip that reads, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” The date on her left hip represents when she met one of her best friends eight years ago, and the phrase in Arabic on her back means, “Love yourself first.” She’s contemplating getting a seventh tattoo to celebrate her own revival — the album and the personal reinvention.

But a day or two after, you look about you, and prick your ears in this self-same.

For all her supposed skittishness, Gomez actually wants to show the world who she is — and, in the coming months, she’ll have plenty of opportunity to do that. Besides the new album, she’s joining The Voice as an advisor, handpicked by Gwen Stefani for her “confidence and creativity,” Stefani said via email, adding, “Selena is incredibly passionate about her craft, and her talent far exceeds what one would expect from a woman her age.” Gomez will also appear in four upcoming movies, including a hush-hush part in December’s financial-crisis drama The Big Short, starring Brad Pitt and Christian Bale.

And, in a role that seems to be the definition of “giant leap,” she portrays a Depression-era young mother in the onscreen adaptation of John Steinbeck’s In Dubious Battle, a performance her director (and Spring Breakers co-star) James Franco promises will reveal the depth of her acting talent.
“If she were allowed to play [more] roles beyond just teenagers with teen interests, she would show her innate maturity and strength,” Franco said via email. “She has had to face pressures and scrutiny at a young age that most never face in a lifetime. So when she is able to display the strength and leadership she has developed, she shines.”

So yes, you might say this is a big moment for Selena Gomez. After a rough 12 months, she’s picking herself back up and taking control of her career.

Not bad for a 23-year-old who got her big break dancing with a plushy.

It’s all over Revival. Before “Good for You” was released

The video to that song features her rolling around on a couch, the floor, and in the shower. The artwork for the album’s cover is a black-and-white portrait of her sitting cross-legged and topless, staring into the camera. It’s not a come-hither stare. The expression seems to say, with self-assured attitude, “Yeah…what?”

All the numerous implements which have been in use.

“It’s not something where I’m like, let me glorify what I do in the bedroom,” she says. “But I think I have a very healthy perspective on my sexuality. It’s part of being an adult, and I’m still figuring out how to be one of those, too.” (A happily single one, at the moment. She issues this PSA to potential suitors: “Do not try to date me right now.”)

And as for those who, previously hearing of the White Whale, by chance caught sight of him; in the beginning of the thing they had every one of them, almost, as boldly and fearlessly lowered for him, as for any other whale of that species. But at length, such calamities did ensue in these assaults—not restricted to sprained wrists and ankles, broken limbs, or devouring amputations—but fatal to the last degree of fatality; those repeated disastrous repulses, all accumulating and piling their terrors upon Moby Dick; those things had gone far to shake the fortitude of many brave hunters, to whom the story of the White Whale had eventually come.

Nor did wild rumors of all sorts fail to exaggerate, and still the more horrify the true histories of these deadly encounters. For not only do fabulous rumors naturally grow out of the very body of all surprising terrible events,—as the smitten tree gives birth to its fungi; but, in maritime life, far more than in that of terra firma, wild rumors abound, wherever there is any adequate reality for them to cling to. And as the sea surpasses the land in this matter, so the whale fishery surpasses every other sort of maritime life, in the wonderfulness and fearfulness of the rumors which sometimes circulate there. For not only are whalemen as a body unexempt from that ignorance and superstitiousness hereditary to all sailors; but of all sailors, they are by all odds the most directly brought into contact with whatever is appallingly astonishing in the sea; face to face they not only eye its greatest marvels, but, hand to jaw, give battle to them. Alone, in such remotest waters, that though you sailed a thousand miles, and passed a thousand shores, you would not come to any chiseled hearth-stone, or aught hospitable beneath that part of the sun; in such latitudes and longitudes, pursuing too such a calling as he does, the whaleman is wrapped by influences all tending to make his fancy pregnant with many a mighty birth.

One psychologist says she can basically
make herself orgasm in her sleep.

No wonder, then, that ever gathering volume from the mere transit over the widest watery spaces, the outblown rumors of the White Whale did in the end incorporate with themselves all manner of morbid hints, and half-formed foetal suggestions of supernatural agencies, which eventually invested Moby Dick with new terrors unborrowed from anything that visibly appears. So that in many cases such a panic did he finally strike, that few who by those rumors, at least, had heard of the White Whale, few of those hunters were willing to encounter the perils of his jaw.
But there were still other and more vital practical influences at work. Not even at the present day has the original prestige of the Sperm Whale, as fearfully distinguished from all other species of the leviathan, died out of the minds of the whalemen as a body. There are those this day among them, who, though intelligent and courageous enough in offering battle to the Greenland or Right whale, would perhaps—either from professional inexperience, or incompetency, or timidity, decline a contest with the Sperm Whale.

October 5, 2015
Photographing the choreography and chaos of the England cheerleading team

Some things we presume to be the preserve of the US: putting treacle on mashed potatoes, perhaps; or Bruce Springsteen, or cheerleading. (more…)

October 5, 2015
In the original Star Wars movies, R2-D2 was no more advanced than sticking Kenny Baker in a tin can.

Then Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman put the straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever.

Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand. “What’s that?” he said. He was deaf in one ear. Ogilvy told him all that he had seen. Henderson was a minute or so taking it in. Then he dropped his spade, snatched up his jacket, and came out into the road.

But now the sounds inside had ceased, and a thin circle of bright metal showed between the top and the body of the cylinder. Air was either entering or escaping at the rim with a thin, sizzling sound. They listened, rapped on the scaly burnt metal with a stick, and, ~~meeting with no response, they both concluded the man or men~~ inside must be insensible or dead. Of course the two were quite unable to do anything.

The tax man even cites a specific statute: “Whoever purchases goods at an unseemly low price to take advantage of the seller’s ignorance shall be subject to a fine equaling 200 percent of the earnings from any such transaction.”

You can admit to tax evasion and pay a penalty, or you can deny any wrongdoing. Choose that option and you’ll be commended by the tax man; he’ll even give you a “Taxpayer in Good Standing” diploma, which he recommends you frame and hang in honor.

The cowhide exploit involved killing cows and collecting their hides. Players quickly discovered that if they mediated for a certain period of time, cows in one early area of the game would respawn every time they woke up. Thus, players could stock up on cow hides to their heart’s content and then sell them for a nice fee. CD Projekt Red addressed this by deploying the Bovine Defense Force Initiative, which took the form of a hulking, ultra-powerful nasty monster who kills anyone trying to cash in.

Browne Sanders made up her allegations against Thomas

The Money Quotes via Ben Golliver

I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house. There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their feet dangling, and ~~amusing themselves–until I stopped them~~–by throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders. Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it.

I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet.

[blockquote author=”DALAI LAMA” pull=”normal”]Our prime purpose in this life is to
help others. And if you can’t help them,
at least don’t hurt them.[/blockquote]

It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the grey scale of the Thing was no ~~common oxide, that the yellowish-white metal that gleamed in the crack~~ between the lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue.

Soon the crew came on board in two

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: ‘Where’s the other ladder?—Why, I hadn’t to bring but one; Bill’s got the other—Bill! fetch it here, lad!—~~Here, put ’em up at this corner~~. No, tie ’em together first—they don’t reach half high enough yet—Oh! they’ll do well enough; don’t be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it’s coming down! Heads below!’ (a loud crash)—’Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I fancy—Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan’t! YOU do it!—That I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you’re to go down the chimney!’

‘Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has he?’ said Alice to herself. ‘Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn’t be in Bill’s place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!’

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn’t guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself ‘This is Bill,’ she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

October 5, 2015
Twitter’s new CEO is Jack Dorsey

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]My first knowledge that I was on the wrong trail came when I heard the yells of the pursuing savages suddenly grow fainter and fainter far off to my left.

I had gone but a short distance further when what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine.

Dismounting, I laid Powell upon the ground, but the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest spark of life. I forced water from my canteen between his dead lips, bathed his face and rubbed his hands, working over him continuously for the better part of an hour in the face of the fact that I knew him to be dead.

I was very fond of Powell; he was thoroughly a man in every respect; a polished southern gentleman; a staunch and true friend; and it was with a feeling of the deepest grief that I finally gave up my crude endeavors at resuscitation.

[tweet https://twitter.com/jack/status/651004309170089984 width=’320′ align=’left’]

Leaving Powell’s body where it lay on the ledge I crept into the cave to reconnoiter. I found a large chamber, possibly a hundred feet in diameter and thirty or forty feet in height; a smooth and well-worn floor, and many other evidences that the cave had, at some remote period, been inhabited. The back of the cave was so lost in dense shadow that I could not distinguish whether there were openings into other apartments or not.

It is the custom of the Mahars to liberate those who remain alive within the arena after the beasts depart or are killed. Thus it has happened that several mighty warriors from far distant lands, whom we have captured on our slave raids, have battled the brutes turned in upon them and slain them, thereby winning their freedom. In the instance which you witnessed the beasts killed each other, but the result was the same—the man and woman were liberated, furnished with weapons, and started on their homeward journey. The chances are that ere long you will know much more about it than I,” and he grinned as he spoke. The Sagoths have a well-developed sense of humor. “And suppose it is the arena,” I continued; “what then?” “You saw the two who met the tarag and the thag the time that you escaped?” he said. “Yes.” “Your end in the arena would be similar to what was intended for them,” he explained, “though of course the same kinds of animals might not be employed.” “It is sure death in either event?” I asked.

The Queen smiled and passed on. ‘Who ARE you talking to?’ said the King, going up to Alice, and looking at the Cat’s head with great curiosity. ‘It’s a friend of mine—a Cheshire Cat,’ said Alice: ‘allow me to introduce it.’ ‘I don’t like the look of it at all,’ said the King: ‘however, it may kiss my hand if it likes.’ ‘I’d rather not,’ the Cat remarked.

‘Don’t be impertinent,’ said the King, ‘and don’t look at me like that!’ He got behind Alice as he spoke. ‘A cat may look at a king,’ said Alice. ‘I’ve read that in some book, but I don’t remember where.’ ‘Well, it must be removed,’ said the King very decidedly, and he called the Queen, who was passing at the moment, ‘My dear! I wish you would have this cat removed!’ The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. ‘Off with his head!’ she said, without even looking round. ‘I’ll fetch the executioner myself,’ said the King eagerly, and he hurried off. Alice thought she might as well go back, and see how the game was going on, as she heard the Queen’s voice in the distance, screaming with passion.

She had already heard her sentence three of the players to be executed for having missed their turns, and she did not like the look of things at all, as the game was in such confusion that she never knew whether it was her turn or not. So she went in search of her hedgehog. The hedgehog was engaged in a fight with another hedgehog, which seemed to Alice an excellent opportunity for croqueting one of them with the other: the only difficulty was, that her flamingo was gone across to the other side of the garden, where Alice could see it trying in a helpless sort of way to fly up into a tree.

Queen’s voice in the distance, screaming with passion

So she tucked it away under her arm, that it might not escape again, and went back for a little more conversation with her friend. When she got back to the Cheshire Cat, she was surprised to find quite a large crowd collected round it: there was a dispute going on between the executioner, the King, and the Queen, who were all talking at once, while all the rest were quite silent, and looked very uncomfortable. The moment Alice appeared, she was appealed to by all three to settle the question, and they repeated their arguments to her, though, as they all spoke at once, she found it very hard indeed to make out exactly what they said.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

October 5, 2015
Lara Croft’s uses new tech to tackle mysteries

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Nor was it his unwonted magnitude, nor his remarkable hue, nor yet his deformed lower jaw, that so much invested the whale with natural terror, as that unexampled, intelligent malignity which, according to specific accounts, he had over and over again evinced in his assaults.

More than all, his treacherous retreats struck more of dismay than perhaps aught else. For, when swimming before his exulting pursuers, with every apparent symptom of alarm, he had several times been known to turn round suddenly, and, bearing down upon them, either stave their boats to splinters, or drive them back in consternation to their ship. Already several fatalities had attended his chase. But though similar disasters, however little bruited ashore, were by no means unusual in the fishery; yet, in most instances, such seemed the White Whale‘s infernal aforethought of ferocity.

Judge, then, to what pitches of inflamed, distracted fury the minds of his more desperate hunters were impelled, when amid the chips of chewed boats?

His three boats stove around him, and oars and men both whirling in the eddies; one captain, seizing the line-knife from his broken prow, had dashed at the whale, as an Arkansas duellist at his foe, blindly seeking with a six inch blade to reach the fathom-deep life of the whale. That captain was Ahab. And then it was, that suddenly sweeping his sickle-shaped lower jaw beneath him, Moby Dick had reaped away Ahab’s leg, as a mower a blade of grass in the field. No turbaned Turk, no hired Venetian or Malay, could have smote him with more seeming malice. Small reason was there to doubt, then, that ever since that almost fatal encounter, Ahab had cherished a wild vindictiveness against the whale, all the more fell for that in his frantic morbidness he at last came to identify with him, not only all his bodily woes, but all his ~~intellectual and spiritual~~ exasperations.

Microsoft / Crystal Dynamics

It is not probable that this monomania in him took its instant rise at the precise time of his bodily dismemberment.

Then, in darting at the monster, knife in hand, he had but given loose to a sudden, passionate, corporal animosity; and when he received the stroke that tore him, he probably but felt the agonizing bodily laceration, but nothing more. Yet, when by this collision forced to turn towards home, and for long months of days and weeks, Ahab and anguish lay stretched together in one hammock, rounding in mid winter that dreary, howling Patagonian Cape; then it was, that his torn body and gashed soul bled into one another; and so interfusing, made him mad.

That it was only then, on the homeward voyage, after the encounter, that the final monomania seized him?

Egyptian chest, and was moreover intensified by his delirium, that his mates were forced to lace him fast, even there, as he sailed, raving in his hammock. In a strait-jacket, he swung to the mad rockings of the gales. And, when running into more sufferable latitudes, the ship, with mild stun’sails spread, floated across the tranquil tropics, and, to all appearances.

That it was only then, on the homeward voyage, after the encounter, that the final monomania seized him, seems all but certain from the fact that, at intervals during the passage, he was a raving lunatic; and, though unlimbed of a leg, yet such vital strength yet lurked in his Egyptian chest, and was moreover intensified by his delirium, that his mates were forced to lace him fast, even there, as he sailed, raving in his hammock. In a strait-jacket, he swung to the mad rockings of the gales. And, when running into more sufferable latitudes, the ship, with mild stun’sails spread, floated across the tranquil tropics, and, to all appearances, the old man’s delirium seemed left behind him with the Cape Horn swells.

Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form. Ahab’s full lunacy subsided not, but deepeningly contracted; like the unabated Hudson, when that noble Northman flows narrowly, but unfathomably through the Highland gorge.

To that one end, did now possess a thousand fold more potency than ever he had sanely brought to bear upon any one reasonable object.

God the direful madness was now gone; even then, Ahab, in his hidden self, raved on. Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form. Ahab’s full lunacy subsided not, but deepeningly contracted; like the unabated Hudson, when that noble Northman flows narrowly, but unfathomably through the Highland gorge.

But, as in his narrow-flowing monomania, not one jot of Ahab’s broad madness had been left behind; so in that broad madness, not one jot of his great natural intellect had perished. That before living agent, now became the living instrument. If such a furious trope may stand, his special lunacy stormed his general sanity, and carried it, and turned all its concentred cannon upon its own mad mark. I knew the Indians would soon discover that they were on the wrong trail and that the search for me would be renewed in the right direction as soon as they located my tracks. I had gone but a short distance further wh
en what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

October 5, 2015
Beats is announcing the first speaker that it’s made since the company was acquired by Apple last summer

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Even if you aren’t a fan of the company’s high-priced in-, on-, or over-the-ear offerings, you have to admit they are all much better than the crude and plasticky Pill speaker.

The new $229 speaker isn’t any sort of radical redesign. Instead, it’s a refinement on the recognizable Beats Pill look. It’s shaped like — you guessed it — a pill, but the new version feels much sturdier than its predecessors. It’s topped with four buttons: a squishy rubber power button on the left, a metal pause / play button emblazoned with the Beats “b” logo in the center, and two more rubber buttons for volume control on the right. But her feed isn’t the only reason she’s making headlines: her recent outing with Nick Jonas and his coy quotes on the topic have had everyone guessing about the status of their relationship. The second time was when she had fought against the Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.

Next she stood upon her right foot and said: “Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!” After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice: “Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!” Now the charm began to work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders. One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the Witch and said, “You have called us for the third and last time. What do you command?”

“Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion,” said the Wicked Witch. “Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work.” “Your commands shall be obeyed,” said the leader. Then, with a great deal of chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place where Dorothy and her friends were walking.

Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard

Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends. So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head. Then she stood upon her left foot and said slowly: “Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!” Next she stood upon her right foot and said.

The bigger question is: why do this at all?

Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast as they could. When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and sent them back to their work, after which she sat down to think what she should do next. She could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed; but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her mind how to act. There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given. But no person could command these strange creatures more than three times.

It’s very possible that his shooting schedule could have conflicted with Gotham‘s, but that doesn’t mean his character has to die. For those of you wondering if he really dies, rest assured that the episode ends with a close-up of Jerome’s twisted smile, which is affixed to his face permanently in the afterlife. The boy is dead.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

October 5, 2015
The Runway Trend That Doesn’t Require Getting Dressed In The Morning

Had someone told Cristobal Balenciaga that 78 years after he opened his namesake couture house, models would be strutting down the runway to Biggie Smalls, I’m not quite sure he would have believed them.

But that was the reality of Friday evening’s spring/summer 2016 show — the last for Alexander Wang, who was hand-picked to helm the brand just three years ago. The past few seasons for Wang at Balenciaga were successful — particularly in terms of sales — but they weren’t groundbreaking. Each collection, though maintaining the label’s delicate-yet-modern aesthetic, featured tons of hints and notes of his own eponymous downtown-cool label. And while the most recent collection certainly veered more toward femininity than the others, it also nodded whole-heartedly at the place Wang will now be focusing 100% of his time and energy: back in New York at his exceptionally hot brand.

For his finale, Wang took the house’s sense of girliness and truly made it his own: through a 36-piece, entirely off-white selection of soft silks, cottons, and linens that resembled — in the simplest of terms — really luxe sleepwear. It was lingerie dressing, the Wang way — pairing loose camisoles and undershirts with wide-leggged cargo pants; adding utilitarian details to the most delicate of slip dresses. What was basically said? The Wang girl can always look good — even when she doesn’t get dressed in the morning.

The tax man even cites a specific statute: “Whoever purchases goods at an unseemly low price to take advantage of the seller’s ignorance shall be subject to a fine equaling 200 percent of the earnings from any such transaction.”

You can admit to tax evasion and pay a penalty, or you can deny any wrongdoing. Choose that option and you’ll be commended by the tax man; he’ll even give you a “Taxpayer in Good Standing” diploma, which he recommends you frame and hang in honor.

The cowhide exploit involved killing cows and collecting their hides. Players quickly discovered that if they mediated for a certain period of time, cows in one early area of the game would respawn every time they woke up. Thus, players could stock up on cow hides to their heart’s content and then sell them for a nice fee. CD Projekt Red addressed this by deploying the Bovine Defense Force Initiative, which took the form of a hulking, ultra-powerful nasty monster who kills anyone trying to cash in.

Browne Sanders made up her allegations against Thomas

The Money Quotes via Ben Golliver

I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house. There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their feet dangling, and ~~amusing themselves–until I stopped them~~–by throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders. Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it.

I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet.

[blockquote author=”DALAI LAMA” pull=”normal”]Our prime purpose in this life is to
help others. And if you can’t help them,
at least don’t hurt them.[/blockquote]

It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the grey scale of the Thing was no ~~common oxide, that the yellowish-white metal that gleamed in the crack~~ between the lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue.

Soon the crew came on board in two

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: ‘Where’s the other ladder?—Why, I hadn’t to bring but one; Bill’s got the other—Bill! fetch it here, lad!—~~Here, put ’em up at this corner~~. No, tie ’em together first—they don’t reach half high enough yet—Oh! they’ll do well enough; don’t be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it’s coming down! Heads below!’ (a loud crash)—’Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I fancy—Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan’t! YOU do it!—That I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you’re to go down the chimney!’

‘Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has he?’ said Alice to herself. ‘Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn’t be in Bill’s place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!’

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn’t guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself ‘This is Bill,’ she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

October 4, 2015
The More Advanced Version Of “Draping A Jacket Over Your Shoulders”

Most people will suffer inconveniences and discomfort for the ‘gram, but imagine what lengths fashion people go for the street style snap. (more…)

October 4, 2015
Selena Gomez: Revival Is The Best Revenge

Here is a young woman who, at just 23, has lived more than half her life in the spotlight, having grown up on the Disney series Wizards of Waverly Place, starred in more than a dozen movies, and sold nearly 12 million records.

She’s famous around the world — and famously wary of reporters, because we poke around in her personal life, specifically, about her past relationship with a certain Canadian pop star and which famous friend she is supposedly feuding with.

So, for her to casually hand over a device that is undoubtedly a repository of some of her most fiercely-guarded secrets — selfies? Taylor Swift’s phone number? — is a pretty radical act of trust. We’re talking about her new single, “Same Old Love,” which is already stirring speculation about Justin Bieber references (more on him in a moment). “I can’t wait for you to see the video,” she says, her deep-set eyes widening to take up even more real estate on her heart-shaped face. “Here, you can watch a rehearsal.”

So here I am, holding her iPhone 6. It’s encased in a basic black cover, incognito in a way that she can’t be anymore (even here, at a quiet rooftop restaurant in Beverly Hills). When the video starts playing, she looks across our table a few times to peek at the screen. So, I get up and crouch down beside her, and together, we watch her slink around a mirrored studio while a reverse harem of male dancers contorts around her. “~~I’m so stoked,” she says with an air of nonchalance~~. I’m not sure if this is cool confidence or anxiety. Both would be appropriate.
The tax man even cites a specific statute: “Whoever purchases goods at an unseemly low price to take advantage of the seller’s ignorance shall be subject to a fine equaling 200 percent of the earnings from any such transaction.”

You can admit to tax evasion and pay a penalty, or you can deny any wrongdoing. Choose that option and you’ll be commended by the tax man; he’ll even give you a “Taxpayer in Good Standing” diploma, which he recommends you frame and hang in honor.

The cowhide exploit involved killing cows and collecting their hides. Players quickly discovered that if they mediated for a certain period of time, cows in one early area of the game would respawn every time they woke up. Thus, players could stock up on cow hides to their heart’s content and then sell them for a nice fee. CD Projekt Red addressed this by deploying the Bovine Defense Force Initiative, which took the form of a hulking, ultra-powerful nasty monster who kills anyone trying to cash in.

Browne Sanders made up her allegations against Thomas

The Money Quotes via Ben Golliver

I think they perceived that nothing was to be done for the present, and had gone away to breakfast at Henderson’s house. There were four or five boys sitting on the edge of the Pit, with their feet dangling, and ~~amusing themselves–until I stopped them~~–by throwing stones at the giant mass. After I had spoken to them about it, they began playing at “touch” in and out of the group of bystanders. Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two or three loafers and golf caddies who were accustomed to hang about the railway station. There was very little talking. Few of the common people in England had anything but the vaguest astronomical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring quietly at the big table like end of the cylinder, which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left it.

I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate bulk. Some went away while I was there, and other people came. I clambered into the pit and fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet.

[blockquote author=”DALAI LAMA” pull=”normal”]Our prime purpose in this life is to
help others. And if you can’t help them,
at least don’t hurt them.[/blockquote]

It was only when I got thus close to it that the strangeness of this object was at all evident to me. At the first glance it was really no more exciting than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a rusty gas float. It required a certain amount of scientific education to perceive that the grey scale of the Thing was no ~~common oxide, that the yellowish-white metal that gleamed in the crack~~ between the lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue.

Soon the crew came on board in two

Dorothy’s life became very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.

She waited for some time without hearing anything more: at last came a rumbling of little cartwheels, and the sound of a good many voices all talking together: she made out the words: ‘Where’s the other ladder?—Why, I hadn’t to bring but one; Bill’s got the other—Bill! fetch it here, lad!—~~Here, put ’em up at this corner~~. No, tie ’em together first—they don’t reach half high enough yet—Oh! they’ll do well enough; don’t be particular—Here, Bill! catch hold of this rope—Will the roof bear?—Mind that loose slate—Oh, it’s coming down! Heads below!’ (a loud crash)—’Now, who did that?—It was Bill, I fancy—Who’s to go down the chimney?—Nay, I shan’t! YOU do it!—That I won’t, then!—Bill’s to go down—Here, Bill! the master says you’re to go down the chimney!’

‘Oh! So Bill’s got to come down the chimney, has he?’ said Alice to herself. ‘Shy, they seem to put everything upon Bill! I wouldn’t be in Bill’s place for a good deal: this fireplace is narrow, to be sure; but I THINK I can kick a little!’

She drew her foot as far down the chimney as she could, and waited till she heard a little animal (she couldn’t guess of what sort it was) scratching and scrambling about in the chimney close above her: then, saying to herself ‘This is Bill,’ she gave one sharp kick, and waited to see what would happen next.

October 4, 2015