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Matthew Wood Presents the Science-Fiction series…
For the first time in weeks I find myself on a Saturday where nothing is going on in the daytime. Now this isn't a complaint, I love what I do in my free time, but it is nice to sometimes slow down and enjoy a day where little is going on.
So I sat down and put on Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan – awesome film to be sure. But it got me thinking about our roots as artists.
As a child Star Trek: The Next Generation used to be broadcast on a Tuesday evening on BBC 2 and my dad used to catch it now and again. I think I started getting into it when I was about 10 years old and found myself lost in this glorious vision of the future – which I still am to this day. My creative roots, as well as my love for science-fiction, can be traced back to Tuesday night episodes of Star Trek: TNG growing up.
So as I sit here listening to William Shatner make the famous war cry "KHAAAAAN!" I wonder, can you trace your creative roots? What is it that got you into the passion you follow today?
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| May 17, 2014 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | Leave a comment
One of the worst things you can do as a writer is to be silent on your blog – or so the experienced will wisely counsel. I'll be honest, I have a hard time trying not to be silent sometimes. Between work, family life and commitments like coaching Kid's Soccer and Children's Ministry I find myself deciding if I should scribble or blog in the time I have available.
I wonder, does anyone else face this choice often?
So the question that I'm sure you're all (or not!) itching to ask: "What HAVE you been doing with all this silent time?"
The answer: "A fair bit old chap!"
Well, maybe not with such a laughably old-school British ending. But it's true. Editing is moving along in the way I like best – taking the time to make sure it's done with quality.
By the way, did I mention I prefer quality over quantity?
Talking of that – it's no real excuse for not writing a whole lot. So I'll fix that with a Challenge. Challenges are cool!
So here's my challenge: Write something. Anything at all. Then post it in the comments one week from today to prove that silence isn't always golden. I'll do the same.
Really, I do!
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| May 13, 2014 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | 1 Comment
Modesty? What's that?
There comes a time in every budding author's walk where he or she will need to write an Author bio for Agents/Publishers. Now maybe I'm alone in this, but I have a really hard time doing that – simply because I'm not usually one to blow my own trumpet in that way.
The result? Ridiculous amounts of time spent staring at Blinky, the idle text cursor.
Now the job does get done – it has to be, but then comes the evil little devil voice saying, "Wow, that's all you got? You suck."
Little devil voice tends to say a bit more than that to be fair, but you get the idea. Long and short of it is, this whole becoming an author thing? At this stage it's a whole lot of 'me' talk followed by a period of uncertainty and self-doubt.
Anyone else honestly get that?
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| January 22, 2014 | Categories: The Process and Art of Writing | Leave a comment
The animal kingdom has a way of knowing when trouble is afoot. Birds fall silent in the presence of danger; insects fail to make noise. City dwellers would not notice this so much, but in the woodlands which filled the uninhabited voids between Montana's rural settlements the silence was deafening. What should have been a sunny summer afternoon had turned to night. The sky was clear, filled with flickering pinpricks of light from distant corners of the cosmos. It wasn't so much the change that caused such widespread alarm though, but what was missing.
There was no moon on a night when it ought to have been full. The animals knew this was wrong. And so in silence Earth's creatures waited for a dawn that would never come.
In a shadowy clearing of the woodland surrounding Highway 200, a mobile home was mounted on pillars of bricks, a testament to how long it had been since last it was out on the open road. Two strands of copper wiring were illegally strung over the power lines, providing electricity to a plethora of cheap, dull strip lights and lamps. Since their power was stolen, none of the occupying Johnsons ever shut off the lights at bed, a fact for which a lone, frightened man was deeply grateful as he carefully snuck out of the trailer's front door. The pressure was immense; if he was caught, he had no doubt they would kill him.
Struggling to control ragged breathing, Cory Wilson licked dry, cracked lips, his mouth open wide. His wrists were sore and bruised from the rope used to tie him to the fridge, a discomfort he tried to ignore, squinting in the gloom. He desperately needed a vehicle to escape.
His choices were limited. Apart from a small electric dirt bike, there was only a dirty, beaten old pickup truck. Crouching, Wilson crept up to the truck and looked in through the driver's window. The small, plastic smart key was carelessly tossed on the dashboard. He'd need that.
A noise made Wilson nervously glance over his shoulder, cursing under his breath as he'd forgotten to close one eye before staring back at the light. This would cost his night vision for several precious minutes.
He fumbled a moment before finding the door latch, which he was thankful to discover was unlocked. Wilson quickly climbed in and decided the Johnsons were as slovenly as they were twisted. He plugged the smart key into a slot on the dashboard and hit the red engine start button. A simple, idiot proof system, designed for idiots like those inside the trailer.
Everything was going as he'd hoped. The truck's electric engine whirred to life, and a check of the rear view mirror revealed no signs of people. Freedom was a safe reversal down the dirt track and onto the highway. The thought felt good, and he temporarily forgot his fears, silently gloating at the people who thought they could use him as some kind of apocalyptic slave. He would have left them a note, but he doubted they could read.
Glancing down at the power readout, he assured himself there was enough battery left to get to Stanford. It couldn't have been more than a dozen miles away. But those comforting thoughts faded as unease suddenly wept over him. He looked up toward the trailer…
And found his fears justified, for there in the open doorway stood a great hulk, with a pistol aimed at Wilson's head.
12 Hours Earlier…
Kill me now, Wilson thought over and over, driving in the fast lane along the Highway 200 overpass. He just wanted to reach the downtown exit just a few minutes earlier than usual. His passenger, a chatty young work colleague named Chris Duigan, was so annoying. All he did was talk about things that, in all honesty, Wilson had no interest in.
"So there I was," Duigan emphasised with wild hand movements, "having spent the last twenty minutes explaining to her what the Ra Mission is all about and she just sighs, smiles and says, 'That's nice sweetie'. Man, I couldn't believe it. It's like everything I said went in one ear and out the other, you know?"
"Not really." Wilson sighed. Where was that damned exit?
"I mean," Duigan went on, "she's always yappin' about her favourite celebrities and her friends and their stupid dramas, yet the second I want to talk about something that interests me she gets this smile and starts playing with her nails like she's impatient or something. I bet half the time she wishes I would just shut up and let her do all the talkin'."
"No kidding." It was times like this that Wilson really hated their employer's carpool policy.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"No." Wilson sighed again. "Not for a long time."
Duigan chuckled, "With the amount of overtime you do, I'm sorry to say I'm not surprised."
There followed an uncomfortable silence. For the first time that morning, the voice on the radio could be heard.
"August 14th 2082. Wow, what a day it promises to be. The Ra Probe – the International Community's greatest achievement to date – has arrived at the Sun. Soon she'll begin her descent into the burning corona, collecting samples and data, allowing our eggheads to unlock the secrets of the star which breathes life into this world. Exciting stuff folks, stay tuned for the official commentary here on GFDB Digital Radio…"
"That is so awesome!" Duigan couldn't help himself. He could never stay silent for long. "Think of what this means for us as a species. Maybe we'll unlock the secret to unlimited sustainable energy or learn how to break the Light Barrier! The possibilities are –"
"Hey," Wilson cut him off, "I have a question for you."
"Sure. What's up?"
Taking a deep breath, a method he'd heard brought calm, Wilson tried to be patient and speak his mind rationally. "Do you want to be fired?"
Duigan did a double take. "Um…"
"Yes or no. Simple question." So much for being calm and rational.
"Hell no! I've got bills to pay!"
"Then stop going on about this damned Ra thing. Start focusing on getting your sales up today."
"Well, yeah," Duigan stammered in protest, "but –"
"So what are you going to do differently?" Wilson forced himself not to glance at Duigan as he negotiated the tight turns of the exit. If only it had come sooner! "Come on. Tell me what you're going to change today."
"I'm waiting."
"I'm thinking!"
They drove onto 51st Street which, as was typical on a weekday at 8am, was alive with commuters heading to work. From here Wilson saw the office block where he and Duigan worked, a monolith of glass and steel with a bright white 'Dubrett Media Solutions' sign on each face. The sales team was on the fourth floor, selling various commercial and personal entertainment products. Wilson had worked there since leaving college almost a decade ago. But Duigan was fairly new, and completely naïve in thinking he could stay employed despite his recent poor sales figures.
"I ask again: you wanna lose your job?"
Wilson glared at Duigan sternly.
"So keep thinking. I want an answer before we step into the office."
Wilson was grateful for the second silence which followed. Duigan was easily distracted, a problem in the dog-eat-dog world of sales. Yet, Wilson reflected as the traffic lights turned green, the kid had potential. On a good day Duigan could easily match his own sales figures, by far the highest in the office. Hell, if he could pull his finger out of his backside, Duigan might be manager in a few years. Wilson himself had never really been interested in that.
"Dude," Duigan piped up in response to a statement on the radio, "why is it there's always someone who has to threaten or attack progress? Can't those religious nuts take a day off?"
Moments like this made an exasperated Wilson wonder if he was too kind for his own good. Maybe it would be better if he just shut himself off from the others, leaving them to sink or swim on their own. With a heavy sigh he pulled into the parking lot close to the main entrance.
"So," he asked Duigan as they got out and put on their ID clips, "did you come up with an answer to my question or not?"
The boy looked crestfallen, mumbling a reply but fooling no one.
Wilson grasped Duigan's shoulder and steered him toward the door.
"Let me answer for you. You're going to focus on the job today. No instant messaging to the other staff, no watching the TV. Just you and the customers and making those sales. Got it?"
"Yeah," Duigan frowned. "But I thought they said we were going to watch the mission?"
Wilson shrugged it off. "Catch the highlights after work."
A short ride in a simple elevator brought them to the sales office, a large open room filled with rows of small grey walled cubicles. A 72 inch TV hung on the far wall, where the entire sales team was currently gathered. Duigan joined them without another word, leaving Wilson to mutter darkly about wasting his time as he went to sit in his own cubicle. He sat with his back to the TV so he could ignore it while he worked.
Cory Wilson's personal workspace was a neatly arranged affair. Each object had its place and was always carefully returned there at the end of the day. He liked things to be organised and felt deeply uncomfortable in places where order was not observed. Chaos scared him, made him worry about dying horribly at the hands of reasonless thugs. Sometimes he even lay awake at night, staring at the apartment door, ready to get up and run if there was a break in. Such sleepless nights were, unbeknownst to Duigan, half the reason why Wilson was so irritable in the mornings.
Wilson retrieved his notepad and pen from the cheap wood drawers, placing them exactly four inches away from the right side of his keypad. The pen was laid parallel to the top, exactly one inch distant. Much to his manager's frustration, Wilson refused to use the thin tablet computers issued to every member of the staff. The devices had too many distractions for his liking. Instead he wrote the sales transactions on good old-fashioned lined paper, resisting the temptation to record the info into his tablet until the end of the day.
Ignoring eruptions of sporadic, excited chatter from across the room, Wilson turned on the computer and logged into the telephone system. A small blue light lit up on the top of the touch screen, telling him the high resolution camera had been activated. All calls were done by video chat unless the customer expressed otherwise.
Using the video feed as an ad-hoc mirror, Wilson took the last three minutes before his shift to straighten his suit and tie. Then he turned on the auto-dialler, adopted his business smile and work began.
A message appeared in a green window on screen: 'Mrs R K Weidemayer – no sales history.' Two electronic beeps later and Mrs Weidemayer's aged face materialized, looking highly unimpressed.
"Ah damn," she growled, "it's just one of you god-damn sales callers."
Wilson ignored her irritation and started his pitch, "Good morning Mrs Weidemayer, I'm Cory from Dubrett Media and I'd like to take a moment of your day t-"
"Have you seen what's on the TV today?" the old lady snapped. "I don't got time for this."
With that the call was terminated. Wilson sat back and prepared himself for the next call – which strangely failed to come.
A collective gasp rose up from across the room, and a red text box appeared on Wilson's screen telling him all communication lines were being re-prioritised. With a muttered curse he got out of his seat, looking for a manager. He cursed again when it was clear they were all staring wide- eyed at the TV.
For the first time, Wilson paid attention to his co-workers. They looked scared; some clutching at one another and whimpering like frightened puppies. Others closed their eyes or made the sign of the cross. He felt a lump form in his throat, urgently pushing through the crowd for a better view of the screen.
"We…uh…we have just received confirmation that the Ra probe has exploded," an attractive newscaster announced, the tablet in her hands visibly shaking. "The Watcher, which is the module we've been watching Ra's progress from, has sent back images of what appears to be the sun darkening. This is incredible, has anyone got an astronomer we can ta-"
The newscaster winked out of view, a message in bright white text taking her place. Trying to filter out the grating electronic screech designed to attract attention, Wilson read the message aloud:
EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION
UNITED STATES FEDERAL GOVERNMENT
ISSUED AN EMERGENCY ACTION NOTIFICATION
A long beep followed, silencing the room. Then an automated voiceover of the message was played. The toneless voice sounded much like a distorted recording from an automated telephone service, only this was far more chilling than any bank balance.
"We interrupt this program. The following message has been issued at the request of the President of the United States. NASA has confirmed the explosion of the Ra probe has caused a catastrophic disruption of the nuclear reactions which keep our sun burning. You will soon experience a state of permanent, moonless night. Immediately return to your homes and take action to preserve heat. Do not panic. Panic will not only endanger your own life, but those of others as well. Please stand by for the President…"
Wilson felt his gut twist in knots as they all turned to look out the window. It was a beautiful summer's day. He wondered if he would ever see such a sight again. Could a person re-ignite the sun?
"It'll take eight minutes for the last rays to reach us," Ridley Stuart, the office know-it-all, announced. Nobody paid him any notice.
Darkness fell without fanfare or warning, looking for all the world like God had just flicked the off switch in heaven. Wilson could hear his pounding heart in the stillness, where a stunned world slowly processed what had just happened and – more importantly – what it meant.
Then came the first screams. Horns blared, followed by a cascade of metallic crunches as cars crashed, their drivers too intent on racing home to their loved ones to even switch on headlights. Wilson winced, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he thought of the chaos outside. The last thing he wanted was to go out in it, yet neither did he want to die as he had lived – at work.
"God help me," he yelled at the top of his lungs, grabbing a protesting Duigan by the collar and dragging him away from the crowd.
"We're going home," he told the kid firmly, shoving him toward the elevator, "before things get really bad."
Duigan didn't argue; he was in a daze, his mouth slowly opening and closing like a fish. They left without a word, Wilson steering back toward the highway with his heart in his mouth. The street lighting had not come on yet, leaving only the light shone by his headlamps to see.
Cars barrelled down the roads with no regard for the law or others, swerving around all who got in their way. Wilson and Duigan watched in horror as one such car raced around them, only to lose control, rolling violently into an apartment building.
"It's so dark." Duigan looked around, avoiding the crash site. There was no sign of emergency services; no doubt they too had abandoned their posts in favour of family and friends.
Wilson ignored it all. He had to; his head was spinning from the insanity, threatening to knock him unconscious. He decided the highway was their best bet. They could get out of the city and figure out their next move.
"Where do you live?" Wilson asked, feeling embarrassed that he'd almost forgotten his passenger's existence. "In town, right?"
"Not anymore," Duigan croaked as they ascended the spiral ramp to Highway 200. "All gone."
"Girlfriend left me last week," the kid said in dismay. "Not working out, she said."
Wilson cursed. "Got any family in town?"
"They live in New Jersey. Don't speak to them much."
"Great," Wilson said under his breath. The damned kid had nowhere to go which meant he was stuck with him, at least for now. He could see fires in the rear view mirror and had to swerve to avoid a three-car pileup. Wilson reviewed his options. Home was out. There was nothing there but emptiness and the possibility of looters. His parents lived on a ranch outside of town, but that was two hours to the west.
"We should get away from the city," Wilson said, feeling as though he'd made a decision simply by speaking. "Maybe we can get to my folk's ranch out west."
Duigan stared dumbly at him, his pale face expressionless.
"I'm going crazy," Wilson grunted as he searched for the west-bound exit. "Whole damn world's gone crazy."
The radio finally fell silent. They never did hear the President. Duigan opened the passenger window and leaned out, spraying vomit at the cars behind them. With no real company, Wilson was glad when local DJ Andy Thompson's voice came back on the air.
"Well, now that Uncle Sam has had his say," Thompson said with heavy irony, "let's talk about what all this means because – let's face it – our fearless leaders are not very good at giving us the ugly truth, are they? You see, no one is really sure what happens next. Sure it's gonna get colder – no brainer there. But the big question – how long it'll be before the whole damn planet turns into one giant snowball? Nobody knows. One look out of my window tells me there's enough time for one big end-of-the-world party though. Hey looters! Lemme ask you somethin'. Why? What good is the latest consumer gadget going to do you when you're a giant icicle, huh?"
That made Wilson smile, easing the debilitating fear he fought inside. He was a big fan of Thompson's politically incorrect commentary; it felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the bigger station's anger no-one policies and dry, characterless shows.
Duigan finished voiding his belly and closed the window, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jumper. "That's pretty funny," he said, breathing the stench of vomit in Wilson's direction.
"He is good." Wilson risked crashing so he could fan away the foul odour. "Jeez, what did you eat for breakfast?"
"Leftover pepperoni pizza." Duigan sneezed. "So, is it nice at your folk's place?"
Wilson shrugged. "It's not bad. Like any other ranch I guess."
Unsure what else to say, both men turned back to the chaos and Thompson was left to pick up the slack once more.
"Maybe all is not lost," he announced. "I have with me a special guest who just popped in. Would you like to introduce yourself to my listeners?"
The newcomer had a smooth, refined voice that spoke of privilege. He replied, "Barry Castle, retired CEO of Castle Technical Solutions."
"Now it is my understanding Mr Castle," Thompson added, "that you have an announcement for us all. Is that right?"
Castle was clearly unaccustomed to speaking on the radio, clearing his throat too close to the mike. "Yes it is Andy. I figured something like this would happen when they announced Ra, so I hired a whole town to build what I like to call my Doomsday Dome. That's right – Doomsday Dome. It's specially designed to use geothermal energy to keep the whole place powered and warm. Now you're all welcome to come and join me there, so long as you can figure out where it is."
"Huh?" Thompson echoed his listener's sentiments.
"Room is at a premium you see," Castle explained, "so you'll have to solve a little riddle I wrote in order to find the Dome. I'll give one clue now to get you started and then, starting tomorrow, Andy here will play a recording of each new part once – and once only – every ninety minutes until it's done, so keep your ears pinned back folks."
Wilson and Duigan exchanged glances. Castle had a reputation for eccentricity. His involvement in the UFO movement and funding of paranormal research groups had led the papers to dub him 'The Madman of Montana'.
"Thank you, Mr Castle." Thompson cleared his own throat. "So I read this first part now and the next one we play at 9am tomorrow. Well, here it is:
Don't sit around while the world dies, why not go for that absent sunrise?
Journey high on the way if you want to live some more,
Travel the sum of eighty six and one one four."
"Nut job." Wilson grunted, noticing the sign for the east-west fork junction. Only two miles to go. "Who in their right mind would listen to such stupidity?"
Duigan didn't answer, his lips moving furiously as he tried to work it out in his head. Wilson tapped his passenger on the shoulder.
"Go for that absent sunrise," Duigan said, the suddenness of it startling Wilson. "The sun rises in the east. So go east?"
Duigan ignored him. "High on the way sounds a lot like highway. Sum of eighty six and one one four? That's…two hundred."
"So Highway 200 eastbound," Wilson finished for his companion as they passed under the sign announcing the upcoming fork junction. "Such a tough one."
"It's worth a try isn't it?"
The junction was now 500 yards away. Wilson had a choice: his parents or a wild goose chase in the hope of surviving.
300 yards left…
So which one?
He bit his lip. Decisions were never really his strong suit.
"Dammit!" he yelled, swerving hard to avoid a stack of water barrels placed at the fork. "He'd better not be screwing with us or I'll kill you."
"We'll be dead anyway right?" Duigan's flippant response made Wilson want to punch the steering wheel. "What have we got to lose really?"
The road ahead was empty, save for endless rows of street lamps. Switching his lights to high-beam, Wilson calmed down and started to wonder if any cops were patrolling this lonely patch of highway. With Grand Forks self-destructing and the end of the world almost certain, he doubted he'd get busted for what he planned to do.
"He said 'pedal to the metal', right?"
A look of puzzlement flashed over Duigan. "Did he?"
"Oh I'm sure he did." A smile spread across Wilson's face. "And I've always wanted to do this."
Feeling a sense of liberation from a dull, rule-bound life, Wilson floored the accelerator, laughing like an excited child as he watched the speedometer climb. Grand Forks, its skyline already smudged with the orange hue of fires raging, faded into the distance – allowing two men to forget in the thrill of speeding on the open road.
"Goddammit Pa!" Bobby Johnson rubbed his greasy, unshaven chin before spitting out brown tobacco juice. "How much longer we gonna sit around waitin' for some fool to show up here?"
Bobby and his brother Jim sat shivering on the metal flat bed of their father's pickup truck. Both heavy men had come outside wearing stained white vests and torn jeans. The air was beginning to cool and they were cold. Their discomfort frayed tempers, which Jim expressed by shoving his brother.
"This was your idea genius!" he snapped, envying his father for sitting inside the warm cabin. "Why don't you tell me when they gonna show up!"
Dick Johnson shook his head, muttered an oft used curse. He often thought about how, if his idiot sons had been dogs, he'd have drowned them years ago. Maybe it would have done the world a favour. And that's why he let them sit in the cold while he enjoyed the benefits of the cabin, hoping they would learn a lesson about dressing for a hunting trip.
Dick had carefully parked the truck on an emergency runway built off a sharp highway corner, which offered an excellent view of the road on both sides. It was, he admitted, the first decent move they'd made on this whole damn trip. The last hunt had ended in disaster, which he felt was a huge shame. The driver's wife had been a pretty little thing – until a pair of bullets had ripped through the back window and blown her and her husband's chests apart.
He was just about to knock his still bickering son's thick skulls together when a spot of light appeared in the distance, steadily growing larger until he could make out two lights. A car, approaching at high speed.
"Cool it idjuts!" Dick banged on the rear window. "I see lights!"
Bobby and Jim scrambled to see where their father was pointing. Toothy grins appeared on their faces.
"Be more god-damned careful this time!" Dick snapped as he started the engine. "Aim for the tires, not the driver!"
Bobby pulled a MAG Pistol out, checking for the green LED that indicated the weapon's powerful electromagnetic coils (which created hypersonic bullets) were fully charged.
"'Bout time," Jim exclaimed, priming his own weapon. "Mebbe now we can live like them rich folk in the city!"
Bobby chuckled, clicking his finger. "Yo' servant! Get me another beer, now!"
Their rich, maniacal laughter caused a flock of birds to flee. Neither brother cared much though, for animals were not their targets today.
The last thirty minutes had been surprisingly pleasant for Wilson and Duigan. With the ice now broken, they sat comfortably, just watching the shadowy world go by. They talked about anything and everything that came to mind. It shocked both men how little they actually knew about one another and how easy it was to spend so much time with another person and yet never really know them. For the first time in years, Wilson started to feel close to someone again. The more he got to know the kid in his passenger seat, the more he liked him. It was a good feeling.
Sometime in the last five minutes the conversation had turned towards women, a subject Wilson was never comfortable sharing with anyone. Still, with the world ending, he decided to open up a little. Egged on by his companion, he asked himself what harm there was in trusting now?
"Her name was Mandy Cooper." A nostalgic smile flickered across Wilson's lips as he thought of the blonde beauty. "She had this smile which I swear could light up a whole room full of people. I wanted her since the day I laid eyes on her in homeroom, but I never could work up the courage to talk to her, figured she was way out of my league."
Duigan shifted his position so he could pay attention. "Did you ever talk to her?"
Wilson nodded. "We dated for two years. Even went to community college together," the smile vanished, "almost ten years ago now."
"She was big into church," Wilson explained. "She wanted to go on a missions trip to some hell hole in Africa. I didn't."
"Ever thought of callin' her?"
"Every day…" Wilson let his answer fade, squinting at the rear view mirror, "Every…day."
Bemused by the sudden change in behaviour, Duigan checked over his shoulder. "It's just another car, Cory."
But Wilson wasn't convinced. Until now they'd been alone on this highway, travelling as fast as his mid-range sedan would allow them to go. As far as he knew, the last route on or off this stretch of road before Stanford was over five miles behind. No car – or in this case perhaps a pickup truck – would have been able to catch up so quickly. Something was wrong.
Wilson's instincts were confirmed when the truck flicked on high-beams, obscuring its approach.
"Put the beams down, jerk!" Duigan snapped, shielding his eyes against the glare. "God…"
The rear window shattered into a thousand tinkling pieces, the bullet responsible passing through Duigan's head before punching a neat hole in the windscreen. A spray of blood, bone and brain matter fanned out across the passenger door and window, splattering everywhere as the kid's lifeless body flopped into Wilson's lap.
"Stop right now!" a voice called menacingly over a bullhorn. "Or we'll keep shooting!"
Until now Wilson scrambled to move away from Duigan, retching as he felt warm blood soaking into his pants. Without his foot on the accelerator, the car had slowed to walking speed, allowing the truck to effortlessly catch up.
Hyperventilating and in shock, Wilson barely registered the two hulking men who strode up to the door, yanked it open and threw him viciously onto the asphalt.
"You're ours now boy," one of them said with a leering cackle before the butt of a shotgun made Wilson's world go black.
Like a rabbit staring at an oncoming vehicle, Wilson gazed helplessly down the barrel of his assailant. In that moment, he felt foolish and wished he had thought to pick up one of the MAG guns. Now he sat, waiting for the other guy to end his life.
Jim Johnson picked up his pistol and snuck out the back door, careful not to go too quickly, lest his movement drew attention. Suddenly he felt grateful to his father for the years spent in these woods, hunting every known animal. He moved confidently through the darkness, staying close enough to keep sight of the trailer and keeping a hand in front of his face to avoid walking into a branch.
He aimed to get behind the truck and force their damned servant to give up before he realised Bobby wasn't going to shoot. It didn't take him long. Dropping to a crouch so he couldn't be seen, he moved into position. Once he was sure he was safe, he pulled out his weapon and checked the coils were charged.
All he needed now was the green light to flicker to life and this guy's escape was over.
Blood and adrenaline coursed through Wilson's veins, sharpening his wits and dulling his fatigue. As he stared at his assailant, the realisation struck that this man should have killed him by now, and since he hadn't, he probably wasn't going to.
So they needed him, wanted to take him back alive, did they? He had a chance to escape after all.
Slowly he moved his left hand on the gear stick, setting it in reverse. He kept his gaze fixed on the man in the doorway. Wilson didn't want to give him any reason to think the situation had changed. He carefully took the parking brake off, keeping one foot pressed firmly on the foot brake and murmured, "Screw you people."
Gritting his teeth, Wilson released the brakes, jamming his foot hard down on the accelerator. The truck leapt back down the dirt path. Too nervous to breathe, he held the wheel steady and with no rear lights to see where he was going, prayed he didn't drive into a tree. Then something struck the tailgate with a sickening thud, making the truck buck violently as it ran over the object.
Fearing he'd hit a log, Wilson applied more power and almost lost his grip on the wheel. Barely able to think straight, he kept going.
Bobby could scarcely believe the nightmare illuminated by the truck's headlights. A crumpled body lay in the dirt, gasping helplessly for air. It dawned on him just who was lying there, and he forgot everything else as he dashed over to his brother's side.
"Pa!" he yelled into the night, "help!"
Jim's mouth was filled with blood, bubbling and choking him with every breath he tried to take. Blue eyes, once so full of hunter's instinct and pride, now stared up at Bobby without focus.
As one brother cradled the other's head in his lap, the truck screeched to a halt on the highway before turning east in a cloud of smoke.
"Son…" Jim vomited blood over his brother, "of a b-" His eyes went wide, his body heaving with all its remaining strength to draw air. And then Jim Johnson's broken body gave one last, violent shudder before going limp.
As the rest of the family came stumbling out of the trailer towards him, Robert M Johnson threw back his head and howled at the moonless sky. It was a promise.
Before this world was through, he would kill the man who had taken his brother's life.
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| January 12, 2014 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | Leave a comment
Editing, dreams and the Grand Master Plan
It has been a very long time since I last posted an episode or Between the Lines installment on here. Reports of my falling into a tiny black hole are greatly exaggerated – it was a wormhole.
In reality I've found myself a wonderful Editor who has been hard at work polishing my work to make it ready for a traditional publication attempt. As a writer this can be a very painful process – because with editing comes the need for change, something we're not always happy to see.
"But I love this paragraph! I think it trips up the book's pace beautifully, can't we keep it? Pretty please!"
That mindset is exactly why I got an editor in the first place. I just can't bring myself to do the tough stuff to my own work – my baby.
Over the next few weeks those changes will be seen here – as select edited works are posted up as a teaser, a name change is brought to life in a new banner, short stories are added to the collection and much more!
Thank you for being patient with me all this time – now please watch this space as the good stuff starts to roll in!
-Matthew
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| January 12, 2014 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | 2 Comments
Between the Lines – "It's a kind of Magnet…"
It has the ability to send bullets screaming through the air at six times the speed of sound, doubling the range and accuracy of even the humble 9mm. Available as a pistol, Rifle, Assault Weapon or Machine Gun – The Magnetic Accelerator Gun of the Sunstoppedshining Universe is truly a force to be reckoned with.
But how does such a fearful weapon work and, more to the point, is there the chance of such a thing ever coming into existence?
Coils of Madness
In The Day the Sun Stopped Shining, the MAG Gun uses powerful electromagnetic coils – each one activating in rapid succession – to propel the bullet out of the barrel. Essentially a magnet activates, pulling the bullet toward it.
image created by user:zeroone using blender. Source: Wikimedia Commons
As you can see, the bullet is pulled toward the active coil. As it approaches, the closest coil shuts down – activating the next, more powerful, coil until the desired velocity is reached.
A powerful battery, using the Oxygen Reaction design talked about in 'Planes, Trains but mostly Automobiles', supplies enough energy to the coils to allow the bullet to reach hypersonic speeds. All of this technology has been, over the course of two decades, miniaturised enough that it is built into the weapon's design.
The biggest hurdle for making an effective coil gun weapon is 'switching', which is pretty much what it says on the tin – switching between coils during the firing process. This is achieved using an Insulated Gate Bipolar Transistor – a three terminal power semiconductor device capable of handling high power pulses while being extremely rugged.
A simple concept, it took developers decades to overcome the technical problems limiting efficiency. The first commercial MAG Gun was sold in 2061.
Resonating Reality
Replacing firearms with magnet guns – is it something that can actually be done? Or are we just seeing another piece of Science-Fiction here?
Shockingly, Coil gun technology is something that has been in development for decades. A hobbyist can make a crude example using a low-inductance coil and the flash from a disposable camera (Note – there are other ingredients involved, but I really don't want to be accused of telling people how to make weapons on here). Various military experiments with this technology have been conducted over the years but no viable weapon has yet been created – that we know of.
For the time being, we lack the technology to overcome limitations in coil gun efficiency and power. However, with enough time and effort, a breakthrough is sure to take place.
Who knows? Maybe our Grand-children will stare at the firearms of today in a museum, shaking their heads in wonder at how we were able to put up with such primitive and unreliable weapons.
The MAG Gun was one of the first things created for The Day the Sun Stopped Shining. I wanted my characters to have access to a weapon that was futuristic, without being something we've seen to much of – such as directed energy weapons seen in shows like 'Star Trek'.
In all honesty, the MAG Gun was the easiest of all the technologies in this series to research, develop and utilize.
So there you have it – one of the weapons of the future. Potent, hard hitting MAG Guns. Next time you go out into the eternal darkness, be sure you are carrying yours.
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| October 16, 2011 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | Leave a comment
Between the Lines – A behind the scenes look at the world of The Day the Sun Died
Planes, Trains – but mostly Automobiles
Seventy years from now, will we all really still be driving cars powered by noisy, dirty fossil fuel engines? Or will the growing field of study into vehicles powered by cleaner alternative fuels have produced a commercially viable product to replace what we are so used to?
In Cory Wilson's world, the days of gasoline driven cars have long since ended – replaced by a revolutionary type of electric battery that utilizes the very air we breathe to produce a long-lasting charge, powerful enough to send a car hundreds of miles before needing to be replaced.
It may sound like a concept relegated to the realm of Science-Fiction, but the truth is we are much closer to realizing this technology than you may think…
Batteries Not Included
The University of St. Andrews in Scotland is home to STAIR, the real-world prototype of the Air-Powered Battery. A product of a four year research project, sponsored by the Engineering and Physical Research Council of Great Britain, the minds behind STAIR have already produced a battery lasting 8 times longer than a Lithium Cobalt Oxide Battery (Like what you would find in your Cell Phone) after only two year's work!
Here is a diagram of how they aim for it to work:
Porous Carbon replaces the Lithium Cobalt Oxide Components of current Rechargeable Batteries
Oxygen is drawn in through a porous carbon segment of the battery to react with Lithium which, aside from being completely free and in infinite supply, is much cheaper than current battery technology.
It may be several years before STAIR batteries are available commercially – if at all -, but the progress made by researchers at St. Andrew's University is nothing short of inspirational.
In The Day the Sun Stopped Shining's universe, developments like STAIR led to development of a battery which replaced Lithium components entirely – using oxygen as the primary reactant. Developed in line with a new generation of vehicle engines ranging from Aircraft to Motorcycles, the 'green can' batteries started to appear in new build vehicles 60 years before the series' events.
Gas Stations shed petroleum entirely 5 years later, specializing instead in the sale and storage of new and used batteries (used cells are easily recycled into fresh ones) which range in size depending on the type of vehicle they are meant for.
It took me almost two hour's research to discover the STAIR battery, which served as inspiration for the science behind the 'green coke can' cells used by Cory Wilson and company.
They were the first technology conceived for the series – as I wanted a futuristic take on modern cars without actually moving too far from what we are familiar with today. That way I wouldn't have to lose some of the story's suspense and action by having to explain, at length, what – for example – a flying car looked like and how it worked.
Tune in after Episode 5 of The Day the Sun Stopped Shining for the next installment of 'Between the Lines', where we will look at how the MAG Gun was born!
Posted by theblacksuitedman	| October 2, 2011 | Categories: The Day the Sun Stopped Shining | 2 Comments
The End is Night…
From Nostradamus to 2012, mankind has lived waiting for the end to come. When a NASA probe is destroyed by an apparent terrorist act it puts out the source of all life on Earth - our Sun. While civilization tears itself apart, a group of survivors brave the dangers of a darkened world to reach a mad billionaire's promise of safety.
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The Day the Sun Stopped Shining
SciFi, Writing, Fiction
April R Denton
Days with the Undead
J Birch Writes
Starting Grid
Steve Richer Books


Look for a silver streak when you go shopping in stores or online for 2019 plus size Prom dresses. You'll rise and shine above the crowd on the dance flooring wearing a long or short silver gown from Sydney's Closet 2019 Plus Size Collection.
Grey matters as a trendy color. For many girls going to Prom 2019, it is considered to be the new black. Why? It is just as versatile and yet it creates a fashion look that is elegant and oh-so sophisticated for your big night.
Go bold wearing a deep shade of silver like graphite or gunmetal for a shine that's not too flashy. Try softer shades of silver like pewter for a quiet sophistication.
Stay away from grey. It's too lackluster for your big night and can easily create a frumpy look better suited for your Mother. The silver you want to wear is the color of brightly polished sterling silver that falls into the very popular - and beautiful - color family of jewel tones.
Shake up your look adding a blast of color when you select accessories to go with your silver dress. Teal, fuchsia or red shoes add a fun and fashionable touch. Play with bright color earrings for a detail sure to wake-up your choice of a silver gray gown. Accessories that add a pop of color create an instant fun factor to the otherwise classic look of a silver Prom gown.


Not to believe it. In his twelve years Moraes Natasha had never cut her hair. It was considered a true 'Rapunzel', until a few days ago did the unthinkable and wept to see how her hair fell on the floor of the salon.
But all is not sadness for this teenager, as his mane of 1.6 m. earned him buy a comfortable house for his family in a modest neighborhood of Rio de Janeiro.


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Hello! My husband and I will be in Italy for 17 days in Apr/May of 2018. We have Rome and Florence figured out, but we have 6 nights before we head back down to Rome for a final night (have a room at airport) and early departure the next day. We are renting a car at Florence airport and will be driving through Tuscany.
So, my questions. . we're thinking we'd like to stay 3 days in Chianti area, and make day trips out to sites around there. Then also 3 days further south in Val D'orcia area.
We're looking for feedback on a centrally located village with good lodging options in both places, and would like to hear from those who know the area or have done a similar type itinerary. We like architecture, wine, literature, art, music, nature, farms, vineyards. . .although we live in Oregon and don't feel the need to sample lots of wine. See beautiful vineyards, farms, etc..yes! Any suggestions are appreciated.
Hi Unamai! And Benvenuti in Toscana!
Don.'t miss the several fascinating hilltop towns, such as Montefioralle, Volpaia in Chianti, Radda in Chianti, Greve in Chianti and don't miss the enchanted Abbey of Badia a Passignano.
Get the occasion to have the best lunch at "Bar Ucci" in Volpaia in Chianti, Gina and Paola will welcome you and you will taste some traditional recipes.
The Val d'Orcia region is just 2 hours far from Florence driving by car. you can have many tasting experience and I can recommend the Paradiso of Frassina ones. Did you know the vineyards can feel and hear the music? Discover a fascinating tasting experience there!
I hope you will enjoy Tuscany!
Dividing up the 6 days between central Tuscany around Chianti and southern Tuscany is a great idea, it is what we most often recommend to cut down on driving times when out and about exploring the region.
In Chianti, I would recommend a few places, all in the same general area between Castellina - San Gimignano - San Casciano and in between.
Both are farmhouses and offer apartments.
Take a look and let me know if there is one in particular you like or if you decide on what type you like best and need more ideas. You can also do a search on www.tuscanyaccommodation.com directly to see what else you find.
We will be traveling to the area June 25th through the 22nd. We are flying into Rome. do you suggest a car rental or taking a train? We would like to go to Florence for a few days, Siena and some of the other villages you called out. Thereafter we think to go to the coast. Is this all do able by car or other means like guide trips? Florence seems far from these paces to stay?
Also do these farmhouses and places you recommend have air conditioning? I expect it will be very hot that time of year.
Not sure on your total amount of days since you have from the 25th to the 22th..... are they backward or will you have about 3 weeks?
If you fly into Rome, I would suggest spending a few days there, then taking train to Florence. Make sure you are in Florence on June 24th, when the city celebrates its patron saint, St. John so that you can assist the historical parade downtown or alternatively the Calcio Storico final match (http://www.visitflorence.com/florenc...iorentino.html).
June gets warm but not impossibly hot, you don't need A/C as an absolute-must requirement. Generally, July and August are hotter, Florence gets warmer than towns in the countryside because it sits in a valley surrounded by hills. In any case, many of the farmhouse apartments do have A/C so it should not be a problem if we do get a heat wave early on in the summer. The pages for the properties will have an icon to show whether they have A/C or not.
You could use Florence for a few days as a base, to see both Florence and Siena and Pisa, which are both easy to get to with train/bus. But if you want to see more hilltop towns and head to the seaside, I would recommend a rental car. You can get it only once you're ready to leave Florence, not before. That way you don't worry about parking and traffic since you don't need a car while in Florence at all. A rental car will permit you to get to places not reached at all by trains or buses and will give you more freedom along the coast to stay wherever you want. I would just move out to the coast and not do it as a day trip, just so that you can enjoy more time at the coast instead of driving back and forth .
Sorry I messed the dates we arrive in Rome on Saturday morning June 16th. We intend to travel to Florence and stay for 2 nights? Then head out to the a central Tuscany location and visit the small towns. We will rent a car when we leave Florence as you advise. Thereafter, we could use advice where to stay. Maybe shoot out to Cinque Terra for a few days?
We need to head back to Rome to pick up our family and then we will spend a few days in Rome.
You can certainly do Cinque Terre to do a part of the coast but it is hard to get to and move around with a car, you need to think get to a place where you can park and then move on foot/train while there.
I would suggest you consider the area between Florence and Siena as a good central area to stay in after Florence - the Chianti wine area is beautiful and offers many hilltop towns to enjoy (you can see/do Panzano, Radda, Castellina, San Gimignano, Volterra, Siena once you're there). Take a look at https://www.tuscanyaccommodation.com/chianti/ to start looking at the many choices you'll have. I guess you won't be around by the 24th at all, too bad you'll miss the Calcio Storico in Florence.
I would like to inform you about florence hotel that is very cheapest and fascinating hotel everyone can easily stay in this hotel. There are vast number of facilities under one roof.


Thank you to all who attended this years Winter Dinner and Silent Auction Fundraiser for North St. Louis County Habitat for Humanity on February 7th.
We had a wonderful time celebrating a brighter future for 52 families in North St. Louis County and 56 families in Mexico!
With your help we were able to raise $12,500 to help us start home building opportunities with five of our neighbors in need. Thank you!!
perfectly balanced with chili peppers, garlic and olive oil.
roasted corn and black bean salsa and stone ground corn tortillas.


text:
That's no moon… it's all the money 'Star Wars' made
Kai Ryssdal Oct 1, 2014
https://www.marketplace.org/2014/10/01/thats-no-moon-its-all-money-star-wars-made/
In his day job, Chris Taylor is deputy editor of the news site Mashable. But recently he's been able to combine his love of journalism and "Star Wars" to pen the ultimate behind-the-scenes biography about the storied franchise.
"How Star Wars Conquered the Universe" sets the record straight on rumors, and offers a few spoilers from the upcoming "Star Wars: Episode VII," due to hit theaters in December 2015. Here are the three big "Star Wars" facts Kai discovered when he sat down with Taylor:
The first movie came dangerously close to being scrapped.
Several major production companies dropped "Star Wars" because they believed it would be a huge flop. The movie studios—and George Lucas himself—believed it was going to be a children's movie; the average children's movie at that time grossed about $12 million.
It's near-impossible to find someone who has never heard of "Star Wars."
Taylor traveled to Window Rock, Arizona, for a "Star Wars" screening — it was the first movie to be translated into the Navajo language. One tribe elder told Taylor he'd never heard of "Star Wars," but remembered seeing "wild birds in space" on television once. After talking to the man some more, Taylor realized he had actually caught a glimpse of the movie's X-Wing fighters. So the search continues.
The franchise has made about $42 billion (so far).
Taylor estimates "Star Wars" merchandise has raked in $32 billion so far. Ticket sales? A measly $4 billion, and another $6 billion on home video. But there's far more money to be made. Since buying Lucasfilm for more than $4 billion in 2012, Disney has announced at least five more films and a new TV series.
Let's do the numbers: the 'Star Wars' empire
"Star Wars" movie directors are more brand shepherds than auteurs
What women who love 'Star Wars' want
The empire orders re-shoots
With 'Rogue One' and more, how far can Disney stretch the 'Star Wars' franchise?
Sharknado and its low budget success

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


text:
Colette at Regent Greymouth
112 mins | Rated M (Nudity & sex scenes)
Directed by Wash Westmoreland
Starring Fiona Shaw, Keira Knightley, Dominic West
Colette tells the fascinating story of the woman behind the scandalous Claudine novels (and later Gigi) that dazzled French society in the first half of the 20th Century. The film depicts her rise from country girl to darling of the Parisian demi-monde with her husband Henry 'Willy' Gauthier-Villars. A critic and author in his own right, he mentors and later betrays her, as her stories gain them fame and notoriety. A compelling insight into this passionate young woman's
journey to create independence, Colette is from the producers of Carol and Still Alice.
112 mins | Rated M (Nudity & sex scenes) | Biography
Directed by Wash Westmoreland | Starring Fiona Shaw, Keira Knightley, Dominic West


text:
<?php
namespace php_active_record;

require_library('connectors/DiscoverLife_KeysAPI');
class test_connector_discoverlifekeys_api extends SimpletestUnitBase
{
    function testDiscoverLife_KeysAPI()
    {
        $name = "Agapostemon coloradinus";
        $fields[] = 'Identification key for Agapostemon of North America';
        $fields[] = 'Identification key for Agapostemon of South America';

        require_library('CheckIfNameHasAnEOLPage');
        $func = new CheckIfNameHasAnEOLPage();
        $arr = $func->check_if_name_has_EOL_page($name);
        $if_name_has_page_in_EOL = $arr[0];
        $xml_from_api            = $arr[1];
        if(!$if_name_has_page_in_EOL) //test will fail if API is down
        $taxon = array();
        $taxon = $func->get_taxon_simple_stat($name, $xml_from_api);
        $taxon["keys"] = array();
        foreach($fields as $field) $taxon["keys"][] = $field;

        $arr = DiscoverLife_KeysAPI::get_discoverlife_taxa($taxon,array());
        $taxa = $arr[0];
        $this->assertTrue(is_array($taxa), 'Taxa should be an array');
        $taxon = $taxa[0];
        $this->assertIsA($taxon, 'SchemaTaxon', 'Response should be an array of SchemaTaxon');
        $dataObject = $taxon->dataObjects[0];
        $this->assertIsA($dataObject, 'SchemaDataObject', 'Taxon should have a data object');
    }
}
?>

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


The Ipswich Inflammatory Spinal Group was established in October 2005 and is a small friendly group of people who have different conditions such as Ankylosing Spondylitis, Spondyloarthropathy and Psoriatic Arthritis. These all have similar effects and all benefit from similar treatment.
We meet on Wednesday evenings at 6.30 pm in the Physiotherapy gym in the Rheumatology department at the Ipswich Hospital.
Each week we have physiotherapist led exercise and hydrotherapy tailored to our needs. As we all have different abilities in terms of exercise there is never any pressure to do more than you are able.
When there are more requests than there are places in the Hydrotherapy session, we have a rota system.
Ideally, you will need to be referred to the group by either your Consultant, Physiotherapist or your GP to ensure that your specific condition fits with the role of the group and the type of exercises that we do.
However, you can come along on a Wednesday evening and introduce yourself to one of the staff, or alternatively get in touch with Peter Collicott (077474 95661 or peter.collicott@gmail.com) who will be happy to chat to you and give you any further details you may require.
The group is self financing so there is a £20.00 annual fee and £5.00 cost for each session but people can come as little or often as they like.


text:
CNET, precedentemente reso graficamente come c|net, è un sito web che pubblica articoli, blog e podcast su tecnologia ed elettronica di consumo.

Storia
Originariamente fondato nel 1994 da Halsey Minor e Shelby Bonnie, era il principale marchio della CNET Networks ed è diventato un marchio della CBS Interactive dopo l'acquisizione della CNET nel 2008.

Secondo il ranking di Alexa, al 1º novembre 2013, CNET è il 94º sito più visitato al mondo.

Il gruppo CNET è stato acquisito dalla Red Ventures nel 2020.

Note

Voci correlate
 CBS

Collegamenti esterni

Siti web di tecnologia

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Global Brands acquires majority stake in Sean John
Global Brands Group announced on Monday that it has acquired a majority stake in Sean John.
The company entered into a partnership with Sean John founder Sean "Diddy" Combs to expand the Sean John and Enyce brands internationally
The company entered into a partnership with Sean John founder Sean "Diddy" Combs to expand the Sean John and Enyce brands internationally. The brands will be a part of Global Brands Group's CAA-CBG Global Brand Management Group division alongside celebrity brands from Jennifer Lopez, Eva Longoria and Bob Marley. Combs will continue to hold a minority stake in Sean John, and Jeffrey Tweedy will remain as President.
Founded in 1998, Sean John is a full lifestyle brand offering men's sportswear, tailoring, accessories, footwear and fragrances among others. In 2004, Combs received the CFDA Men's Designer of the Year award for Sean John.
The lifestyle brand entered into a partnership agreement with Macy's in 2010 to make Sean John available at 400 stores in the US. Sean John and Macy's renewed their agreement in October 2015.
Global Brands Group recently posted a revenue increase despite a challenging global environment.
Bruce Rockowitz, Chief Executive Officer and Vice Chairman of Global Brands Group, said: "We are embracing change, continuing to diversify our brands, leveraging our ability to be channel agnostic and gearing up our e-commerce capabilities. We will continue to focus on building our footprint across Europe and Asia, and increasing our market share across all our distribution channels."
Macy's posts stronger than expected holiday sales, announces 29 store closures
Black Friday 2019 expected to lose punch in extended holiday shopping period
Black Friday darker for some retail stocks than others
Nordstrom beats grim retail landscape, lifts 2019 forecast
Anastasia Beverly Hills and influencer Carli Bybel unveil new palette
Pioneering black model Coco Mitchell still strutting stuff at 60-plus
Macy's Bluemercury founders to exit
Renzo Rosso on rebooting Diesel, while fine-tuning his fashion kingdom
Hudson's Bay Co losses widen on lower sales, heavy discounts
A Pop up exhibition of Madonna's most iconic outfits presented at Macy's in Los Angeles (with itws)


text:
An imperfect union: What went wrong at Robert Allen Duralee—and what's to come?
Comings & Goings | May 15, 2019 |
By Kaitlin Petersen
Thursday, May 2 was an eventful day for the Robert Allen Duralee Group. That afternoon, the court overseeing the fabric giant's bankruptcy proceedings approved the company's sale for $19 million, saving it from liquidation. The buyer? RADG Holdings, an LLC that had been created just a few weeks prior by Brant Enderle, a Knoxville, Tennessee–based real estate developer with no previous history in the fabric industry.
Enderle issued a round of layoffs that Thursday, letting go of a reported 36 employees. Among those handed pink slips were much of the executive leadership team, including CEO Lee Silberman—a longtime Duralee executive who was appointed CEO following the company's merger with Robert Allen—as well as the customer service and credit departments in the company's Hauppauge, New York, headquarters.
In one day, Enderle had both saved the Robert Allen Duralee Group from extinction and wiped out much of its institutional memory. According to a former employee with knowledge of the cuts, Enderle made layoffs based on a formula he has developed over the course of his career—an ideal ratio between revenue and payroll. He looked at RADG's earnings, then started pruning from the top.
At the May 2 hearing, Enderle also rejected many of the showroom leases—including those at the Atlanta Decorative Arts Center, Boston Design Center, Market Square in High Point, Merchandise Mart in Chicago, and Pacific Design Center in Los Angeles—as well as its Broad Street offices in Manhattan. He'll now be able to negotiate his own terms with design centers, and is said to be eyeing cheaper real estate in Queens, New York, for the company's new headquarters.
Are all the cuts a case of amputating a limb to save the life of the patient?
"Some of those are good decisions," admits one source, a former top-level employee who asked to remain anonymous and said that the Broad Street space was expensive—and too large for what the teams there required. "Especially in the market today, I don't think anyone knows what the right formula is."
A Troubled partnership
The merger of Robert Allen and Duralee was announced in March 2017 with much fanfare. But underneath the corporate enthusiasm, the picture was far less rosy: "Both companies were ill prior to the merger," says a former employee with knowledge of the deal. One, the source says, could have survived: Duralee. Robert Allen, on the other hand, was destined for dissolution; Altamont Capital Partners, its investment firm owner, had grown weary of funding the company. "They were going out of business on May 1. If the deal didn't go through, Altamont was pulling the plug."
Their lead times were killing them. Before the merger, the fact was that Robert Allen couldn't deliver.
A former RAD Group employee
Former Duralee employees say that the Robert Allen brand came into the merger under a shadow, struggling with an overburdened expense sheet and an unreliable sales force. "Most customers didn't know who their road rep was," a source tells BOH. "They were strong in certain categories—their contract and manufacturing divisions, especially—but the showroom and road business was deteriorating." Also, though Robert Allen had a lot of inventory, it wasn't what customers wanted. Without the proper analysis, unpopular patterns and colorways languished in inventory season after season.
The other problem was a manufacturing issue: "Their lead times were killing them," says one former employee. Delivery times of 12 to 14 weeks—and sometimes longer—were the norm. "Before the merger, the fact was that Robert Allen couldn't deliver. It was a huge opportunity for companies like Kravet, Fabricut, and even Duralee, who all could."
Duralee, on the other hand, seemed to be thriving in the areas where Robert Allen needed the most help. Former employees describe a customer-first culture with a strong showroom staff, a successful network of road reps, and an easy-to-use web platform that designers raved about. As news of the merger began to spread, they say, designers began to express concerns. "They would be telling us all the problems they were having with [Robert Allen's] platform and abysmal website," says one. "They'd say, 'Keep the Duralee website, it's the best in the industry.' What did we do? We did the opposite."
TECHNOLOGY WOES
The ultimate Achilles' heel in the merger between the two companies seems to have been their computer systems. Woven throughout the bankruptcy filings and former employees' tales are complaints about technology integration.
As a partner in the newly formed company, Altamont insisted that Robert Allen Duralee Group adopt Robert Allen's computer system, the AS400. "It wasn't until after we all switched over that they started to recognize all of the system's shortcomings," says a former employee. "Management had to do an immediate about-face. In order to stay in business, the two companies had to function on two different platforms. But even after consultants agreed with the CIO that the AS400 could not function, Altamont was not going to invest one more penny."
Again and again, former employees point to the two computer systems—and their inability to talk to each other—as a core failure of the merger. As they elaborate on the day-to-day frustrations of working between two systems, a maddening picture emerges. For some time, the company operated with two account numbers for every client, leading to rampant confusion. Sales reports went missing, inventory was difficult to assess, and credit card payments ended up getting lost between departments."Tracking all that stuff wasn't always accurate," says one former employee in summation. "There was a lot of confusion."
The computer systems seemed to represent an overall culture clash between the two companies. "Part of the downfall was that they could never come up with a common language," says a former employee. Duralee, founded in 1952, retained the easy, carefree fluidity of a family-owned brand beloved for its creativity and accessibility. Robert Allen, on the other hand, had changed hands several times since its founding in 1938. Its last owners, Altamont, took a stake in the company in 2011 and appointed veteran fashion executive Philip H. Kowalczyk as company president and CEO. (He left the company in March 2017 when the merger with Duralee took place.) Robert Allen still had a high-end caché, but had been managed by several corporate firms whose detail-oriented practices were at odds with the more freewheeling Duralee team.
This isn't the first matchup to be plagued by technology woes; case studies about IT conflicts that have toppled major mergers abound in a variety of industries. But it is a good lesson in due diligence for the industry: "What happened to this company happened because Robert Allen and Duralee were so behind the times and mismanaged," says a former employee. Though customers might have preferred Duralee's user interface, the company wasn't as tech-savvy as its platform suggested. "It should be a cautionary tale to all of these little family businesses still running the way they used to be. If they don't modernize, invest in technology, and get out there on the web, they're not going to make it, either."
Though the former employees we spoke to pointed fingers at the Robert Allen side of the business, it wasn't all rosy at Duralee, either. When the company's beloved founder, Leonard "Lenny" Silberman, was alive, he routinely pumped money into the business following the 2008 recession, according to a longtime former employee. His death in April 2016 was a tremendous loss for the industry. His nephew, Lee Silberman, took over the company, but without Lenny's cash infusions, its balance sheet remained more precarious.
Still, the company's strengths seemed to align with the weaknesses of Robert Allen's business, and former employees say that, at the time, the merger felt like a tremendous win. "We thought that the strength of existing Duralee talent and management teams, combined with the power of the Robert Allen brand, even after five years of decline, could offset the challenges and turn customer confidence around," says a former employee. "The absence of confidence in the company's ability to deliver product in a timely manner was a challenge, sure, but Robert Allen was still a good-looking and sellable brand."
Enthusiasm around the office soon took a hit. After 40 years of growth, Duralee's sales softened starting in 2015, sources say. "We thought it was a big decline then, 1 or 2 percent," says a former employee. "But after the merger, it was double-digits." Some longtime designer clients stopped placing orders due to unreliable service. "We were giving information about when [an order] would come in, but it wasn't reliable because of credit issues with the mills," says a former employee. "Sales reps did their best to keep the customers coming, but eventually clients gave up because it was too difficult to do business with us."
For former Duralee employees, the decline in customer service—something they once prided themselves on—was a blow to morale. By 2018, employees started to leave in droves. "Listening to upset customers 24/7 is difficult," says another former employee. "People are begging to give you business, but you [know you] can't fulfill that business. Do you know how devastating that is for a seller?"
A SELF-DEFEATING CYCLE
Secretly, Silberman was looking for a new owner to buy the company out of its problems. "Both companies were undercapitalized before the merger, and the merged entity remained undercapitalized," he told some of the company's top leadership in a closed-door meeting September 2018. "The hope was that with the merger—and with the ability to cut overhead as a combined company—we would have been in a position to organically grow the capital we needed." The lack of capital, he said, explained the mill delays.
In a recording of the meeting obtained by BOH, Silberman tells the assembled employees that he and former CFO Bill Fuchs had known since the time of the merger in early 2017 that Altamont would not be supplying additional capital to the newly formed company. He also explained that Altamont had communicated in April 2018 that it wanted to exit the company, and he'd been tasked with bringing a buyer to the table. His spin was positive: "They have treated us with benign neglect," he said of Altamont. "In looking for a partner, I've been making it very clear … that when the deal is done … we will have the capital we need to pay off our vendors, take care of our mill delays, and fix all of our technology problems. And the companies I'm talking to are well aware of that situation and are still interested."
At the time, Silberman said that four companies had expressed interest in acquiring Altamont's stake. None had made an offer yet, but he was confident: "I'll be very surprised if at least one of them doesn't come to the table." (Rumors about Silberman's dealmaking abounded in an unhappy office. Silberman declined to comment for this story, but others rallied to his defense. "It is easy, in hindsight, to criticize the CEO," admits one former member of the group's leadership team. "But the fact of the matter is, he governed with one hand tied behind his back. Without the necessary resources, the merger was doomed from the outset.")
In the meantime, former employees say that the company's health continued to worsen. It was a self-defeating cycle: The cash-strapped company strung its mills along, trying to sell more product in order to make ends meet; the mills, sensing the company's volatility, began to change their terms—some requiring payment up-front, which resulted in production delays if Robert Allen Duralee couldn't write the check. "It made it very hard to fill orders," one former employee recalls. "You're telling the client that it will be 10 to 12 weeks, but if [the company] didn't have a sizable enough order after 12 weeks"—and some mills began instituting 100-yard minimums—"then you had to determine whether or not to honor the order." As the company lumbered on, its problems got worse.
When you owe a company in India $20,000—that's like $200,000 to them, and if they don't get that payment, their company is destroyed. Those were the kinds of emails the team was getting.
It's notable the company's largest unsecured creditors were its suppliers. In filing for bankruptcy, Robert Allen Duralee Group defaulted on $2.575 million owed to Valdese Weavers, $1.68 million to Sumec Textile Co., $979,000 to Triplex Shanghai Enterprises, $746,000 to EDPA Tekstil, and $650,000 to P Kaufmann. Those that got burned, says a former employee with knowledge of Robert Allen Duralee's finances, are the ones that stuck by the company when times got tough. "They trusted our ability to honor our commitment."
Morale at the company continued to sink. "When you're seeing the numbers every day, customer orders canceled, the struggles showrooms were having, threatening letters from mills, and a lack of performance from the CEO and upper management—the writing was on the wall," says one former employee. "When you tell someone the check is in the mail, it should be in the mail. One of the interesting things about a textile company [is that it's often] a global business. When you owe a company in India $20,000—that's like $200,000 to them, and if they don't get that payment, their company is destroyed. Those were the kinds of emails the team was getting."
Starting in December 2018, the company implemented more aggressive cost-cutting measures, including shuttering redundant showrooms and several rounds of layoffs, which were projected to save the company some $20 million. By January 2019, the third round of layoffs targeted the product development, product management and marketing departments—part of the business's final push to combine its two teams, Silberman told BOH at the time.
But all of the cuts were taking a toll. In an internal email distributed to employees, Silberman wrote:
Over the course of 2019, it is our plan to produce and distribute fewer books than we produced last year in five product launches. We believe that our strategy of the right number of targeted collections with unique stories will work to bolster sales.
By implementing this new strategy, we had to adjust the number of employees in the departments that specifically touch product creation, book design/production, product management, and marketing. The ongoing showroom consolidations have impacted our showrooms staffing requirements as well. We regret that we had to implement layoffs in these areas, but strongly believe that our teams will work diligently to implement our new strategy and move the company toward our goal of long-term success.
Despite Silberman's calm tone, it was clear that the company was in crisis mode. Another major round of cuts to the design and product management teams took place two weeks later, as whispers of a soon-to-close deal abounded. Instead, by mid-February, Robert Allen Duralee had filed for bankruptcy.
Filings ultimately revealed that the company had trimmed its annual budget by $10 million to $12 million by November 2018, but that it struggled to implement other cost-cutting measures, including the consolidation of duplicate showrooms within design centers. (Following the merger, one nagging item on the company's balance sheet was the operating expense for both Robert Allen and Duralee showrooms in many design centers—leases the newly formed company had been unable to exit.) The company cited a 14 percent decline in sales for each of the two years since the merger, which were attributed to the costs of staffing and rent, software and hardware integration issues, and a soft market overall. The company, which employed 725 people when Robert Allen and Duralee merged in March 2017, had shrunk to 410 employees. Less than a month after the bankruptcy filing, another 119 employees in the company's Long Island offices were let go.
In a letter to employees that was obtained by BOH, Silberman informed staff that the bankruptcy would hopefully clear the way for a takeover: "We believe this court-supervised process is the best way to solidify and enhance our financial position. Filing for Chapter 11 provides us with an opportunity to reorganize and look for a company to purchase us so that we have a more stable future." To that end, he wrote that RAD Group had hired an investment banking firm to assist in the process, and was "aggressively pursuing multiple prospects."
We all had to sign NDAs, and no one could communicate outside—or within—the organization without approval.
After the bankruptcy filing, employees lived in fear of the unknown. "Our job was primarily to put out fires," one former employee recalls. "It was all about survival mode—generating as much business as possible, as cheaply as possible." But it was difficult to do even the bare minimum. RAS Management, a crisis management and turnaround firm, was running the show under the leadership of the firm's president, Timothy Boates, who is named in court filings as the company's chief restructuring officer. (RAS Management billed just over half a million dollars for the period of February 12 to March 30.) "We all had to sign NDAs, and no one could communicate outside—or within—the organization without approval from him," said the former employee. "The whole atmosphere was governed by rumor and RAS was running the ship."
How did Enderle enter the picture? "He was the last man standing [in the court-supervised bidding war]," says another former employee, who also spoke on the condition of anonymity. "People within the industry saw that there was too much inventory and didn't think [the company] was recoverable." Other interested parties were said to include Harbour Group (the investment firm that owns Thibaut), Kravet, and the Pennsylvania-based ELK Group International.
Following the Chapter 11 filing, financial services firm Great American Group was brought in to assess how to best recoup its money—either through the sale of the company or complete liquidation. Their valuation of the company established the baseline amount that the company expected to get from a stalking horse bidder, on the premise that otherwise, they'd recoup more by dissolving the company and selling off its assets.
"My understanding is that just about everyone in the industry felt that Great American overvalued the [Robert Allen and Duralee] inventory," says one insider. "You might be able to close out old inventory at 50 cents on the dollar in most industries, but for us, if it is more than two years old, you're getting 10 cents on the dollar." The discrepancy led to what several sources called an immense overvaluation of the company. "At that point, the industry people walked away," says one. The bank, on the other hand, was happy with the high number and brought in the investment company SSG Capital Advisors to court potential buyers.
According to a filing summarizing SSG's work, the firm contacted 161 potential buyers, executed 56 non-disclosure agreements, and took five calls and three site visits with interested bidders. In addition, 44 qualified bidders conducted due diligence. Of all of these interested parties, only one qualified bid was received. It came in at $19 million—$8 million in cash up front, with the remaining sum, less expenses, to be paid after the closing—from Enderle, who sources suggest had done business with the investment company in the past. (Court filings detailing the purchase state that the sale price of the company likely brought at least $5 million more than an asset sale would have.)
A new owner, a new name at the top
Enderle came to the deal with a somewhat murky reputation. A longtime real estate developer in the Knoxville area, he has a pattern of purchasing a distressed asset, talking revitalization, then letting it sit. Past investments include a struggling shopping mall; a brewery that ceased operations in 2017; the dilapidated campus of a historically black college in Morristown, Tennessee, that was eventually repurchased by the city; and a shuttered textile mill that remains undeveloped. "I, like most people in Knoxville, have way more questions than answers," Jesse Fox Mayshark, a longtime local journalist who has covered Enderle's business dealings, tells BOH. "Nobody can figure out what his deal is."
Despite a somewhat cloudy reputation, Enderle seems to be doing some things right, according to some sources. And if nothing else, so far, he's deeply involved at every stage of the process himself. Once he put the bid in, he took the time to meet in-person with Broad Street–based employees, and to schedule calls with remote managers. The conversations were similar: He asked questions, they answered. "Who are you, and what do you do for the company?"
I've made millions, I've lost millions.
I want to buy something for my kids.
Brant Enderle
But to a few employees, Enderle let his distaste for the fabric business's status quo slip into the conversation. "'This is a failed business,' that's what he told me," says a former employee who met with him. "He didn't just mean our business. Our competitors, too, are failed companies [to him]. He said that radical changes are needed. What that means, he never elaborated."
Enderle also shed some light on why he wanted to invest in the company: "I'm buying the company for $10 million. It's worth $100 million," he told a group of employees at a meeting. "I've made millions, I've lost millions. I want to buy something for my kids." He did not respond to requests for comment for this story, so BOH was unable to determine whether he misspoke in the meeting, or actually undervalued his own $19 million investment by about half.
News from within isn't all bad. After the first team meeting led by Enderle following the sale, some of the remaining staff felt heartened by his no-bullshit analysis of where the company had gone wrong, and his salty take on Silberman's failures rang true for many who had weathered the previous two years. Enderle promised to shake up the industry—but employees will have to wait 60 days, he said, to find out more about his plans.
For those who were let go, many of whom had worked for Duralee for a decade or more, relief mixes with their worry and grief. "It's sad, because both Robert Allen and Duralee were such significant companies in the industry," said one. "But it doesn't seem like RADG will ever be the powerhouse that it was supposed to be. I think I am better off looking towards something new."
weekly feature


Yes. Any devotee of Shiva can worship Vishnu and any devotee of Vishnu can worship Shiva. All our scriptures including the Vedas and the Puranas(both 'sattvik' and 'tamasik') boldly declare the equality of Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu.
You played with the cowherd boys in your incarnation as Krishna and You are Govinda, the Omniscient One.
purusho vishnur iti ukto shivo vaa naamatah smritah/avyaktam tu umaa devi shrir vaa padmanivekshanaa// meaning : The Primal Being is known as Vishnu or Shiva in Manifest form and is the lotus-eyed Umaa or Shri (Lakshmi) in the Unmanifest form.
yaa srih sa girijaa proktaa yo harih sa trilochanah/evam sarveshu saastreshu puraaneshu cha pathyate//etasmaad anyathaa yastu brute saastram prithak taya/tam naastikam vijaaniyaat sarva-dharma-vahishkritah// meaning : She Who is Shri (Lakshmi) is Girijaa(Paarvati) and He Who is Hari (Vishnu) is Trilochana(Shiva).All the scriptures including the Puranas say this.The person who sees them different is an atheist and rejected by all 'dharma'-s.
matto abhinnaatmaanam drashtum arhasi samkara/yo aham sa tvam jagat cha idam sdeva-asura-manusham/avidya-mohitaatmaanam purushaa vinnadarshinah//(48). Here Sri Vishnu is saying to Sri Shiva : I and You are one and the same in the essence--the All pervading one residing in all gods, demons and men.Only the persons deluded by ignorance sees us differently.
brahmarupadharo devah svayam eva harih parah/..raamaadirupam sa tu grihya paati babhuva rudro jagad etad hartum// Lord Vishnu takes the form of Lord Brahmaa for creation in Rajo-guna, preserves the dharma taking forms like Raama and destroys the world in the form of Rudra.
We hear the same about the equality of them in the messages from Srimad-Bhagavatam also.
It is clear from the above that any real devotee must worship both Shiva and Vishnu. One of course may love more the Ishta form, but he can not think the other form is inferior as per the scriptures.
Shiva Himself chants the name of 'Rama' as mentioned in the Kashi-khanda of the Skanda-Purana.
anarham mama naivedyam patram pushpam falam jalam/saalagrama-shila-lagnam sarvam yaati pavitrataam// meaning that the food, leaves, flowers, fruits and water offered to Lord Shiva must be accepted only after getting them touched to a Shalagrama (Vishnu) Shila.
Madhav Swamiji, a very close disciple and sevaka of Sri Sitaramdas Omkarnath, Who belonged to the Ramanuja-Ramananda-lineage, took sannyasa from Sri Lakshmana Ramanuja Jear, the pontiff if the Srirangamm Falahari Jear Math. Once both of them were staying with Sri Omkarnath at Bhubaneswar.
Omkarnathji told to Madhavji: Let us go to the Lingaraj Shiva temple for darshan.
Madhav Swamiji (Kinkara Madhava Ramanuja Jear) replied: No Master, I am forbidden by my sannyasa-guru to visit any Shiva temple.
Omkarnathji gave him a smike and said : My child! Have I to remind you again that Hari and Hara are one?
--I am sorry, Master. I am not allowed by my rules of sannyasa.
Omkarnathji held one hand of him and went to Sri Lakshmama Ramanuja Jear straight.
Lakshnpmanaji respecrpted Omkarnathji like his own Guru.
Omkarnathji just told him: Come with us. Wevare going to have a darshan of Lord Shiva at the Lingaraj temple.
At once Lakshmanji bowed down to Him and held His hand. The three joyfully went to the Shiva Temple and worshipped Lord Shiva.
Sri Lingaraja is known as the Hari-Hara linga by the way.
'There are some Vaishnavas who say that Shiva is inferior to Vishnu--They are not ready even to offer a pronam to Shiva. What is the matter?
Those who say so are far from realisation of the Truth as yet'.
Not the answer you're looking for? Browse other questions tagged vishnu shiva worship .
Is it true that lord Vishnu gave his own eye to lord Shiva?


This morning, bright and early and before school, I hear my son playing his tuba. I giggle because it's a tuba and it's loud. I stop to wonder if anyone can hear it oom-pa pa, oom-pa paing along.
She said this to herself as she walked by the tuba which was sitting in one of the living room chairs. I think she probably rolled her eyes as she prepared her bag for early morning choir.
Now I sit here contentedly preparing for my day and I giggle. I have a daughter rolling her eyes in exasperation and a son, who enjoys an early morning tuba session. Both caught up in being very authentic, I'm thrilled to have been a spectator for both events.
Oom-pa Oom-pa Oom-pa…I have a post to do. Happy Thursday! I'm off today!! Watch out WordPress. I have something brewing…and it isn't just coffee.


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text:
A consultation on the proposed closure of Sand Dunes Nursery School has ended
Charlene Smith
Categories: Front Page, Latest News, Sefton Council
A consultation regarding the closure of Sand Dunes Nursery School, Seaforth has now ended.
Following a request from the governing body of Sand Dunes, a statutory consultation process on the proposal to close the Nursery School, was agreed in July.
Sand Dunes Nursery School has been struggling financially for a number of years. Sefton Council and the school had explored every available option before Sand Dunes formally proposed the closure.
The consultation was the first part of a 5-stage statutory process Sefton Council must follow. During this time, it was critical that all those affected could express their views and opinions.
The consultation which was originally planned for 8 weeks, was extended to a period of 9 weeks, to allow enough time for people to submit their comments and ran from July – October.
Meetings were also held with staff, governors, and parents/carers of pupils at the school. A consultation document and forms were handed into the school and collected. Comments could also be submitted by email, via Sefton Council's website, by letter or via the Sand Dunes Facebook page.
At its meeting on 1 November, Cabinet considered a report on the outcome of the consultation process. There was a huge amount of support for Sand Dunes but no viable options to address the financial shortfall came forward and Cabinet agreed to publish the statutory notice.
Cabinet are also asked to agree to continue exploring alternatives with the school and to report on this and any representations received to the public notice in the new year.
Cllr John Joseph Kelly, Sefton Council's Cabinet Member for Children, Schools and Safeguarding, said: "Sand Dunes Nursery has been a crucial part of the community for many years. This has been demonstrated with anonline petition which has had more than 900 signatures.
"I understand that this is a difficult time for all those involved and want to thank everyone who took the time to tell us how they felt through the consultation.
"It is extremely regrettable that the governors at Sand Dunes Nursery school have had no alternative but to request a formal consultation to close, because it is no longer financially viable.
"We will now consider the responses to the statutory consultation process and will continue to make sure the community are continually updated throughout this difficult and emotive process."
Children help spruce up Bowersdale Park
August Bank Holiday: All You Need To Know In #MySefton
Important pharmacy & walk-in centre opening times throughout Easter
Carers Rights Day - Thursday 26 November 2020
Programme of safe openings for Sefton's play areas underway
Sefton Council confirms free school meal vouchers scheme for summer holidays
Sefton Council asked to approve funding bids for Crosby and Bootle regeneration
Employment support, advice and training still available for all across Sefton
Bootle Strand Purchase statement
Baroness Newlove to visit Sefton school for anti-gang initiative
Sefton Council joins forces with partners to tackle Hate Crime


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EuroPython 2017
A little summary of the apes' invasion in Rimini, for the amazing EuroPython conference. Including slides, videos of the talk, general thoughts, sprint sessions and thanks to all the amazing people that were there.
I was very happy to be able to present Bonobo ETL in Rimini last summer.
You can watch the talk on youtube, and don't forget to share it with your friends (at least, the crazy ones who wrangle data before breakfast).
My slides are also available on slideshare.
I'd really like to thank all people who gave me feedback, thoughts, ideas, pointers, which is really something you need when starting this kind of open source project.
Last bu not least, I'd like to thank the participants of the sprint, despite the fact that sun an beach must have been a really tempting escape for this week end. So thank you @Parthiv20, @alekzvik, @alexmach77, @vit-, @carloca and @faic, you're the stars here!
Now, I have this huge list of things and ideas for Bonobo, and I need to get back to work!
See you next year Europython and Europythonistas!
(P.S. Special heads up for the EP CoC team, who, quoting Marc André Lemburg, «did not have a lot of work, this year, I guess», but that «not a lot of work» being the result of the last 15 years of work, I was especially happy to hear that. It's one thing amongst others that makes me so proud of being a part of the Python community. It is an open one, and being open mostly means creating spaces where people are safe and respected, whoever they are.)
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Bonobo is a line-by-line data-processing toolkit (also called an ETL framework, for extract, transform, load) for python 3.5+ emphasizing simplicity and atomicity of data transformations using a simple directed graph of callable or iterable objects. You can use the command line tool to easily convert things from various data sources and formats (for example, it can read from HTTP REST/SOAP APIs, local or networked filesystems and storage services, SQL and NoSQL databases, and it can read and write in a variety of formats like CSV, JSON, XML, Excel, Pickle ...).
Bonobo is an open-source software, provided without any guarantee. All code and surrounding material, including the website, is provided as-is, and we apologize for any errors that tricked our vigilance.
© 2011-2019 Romain Dorgueil • License


The original SIRI XML data is repeated at data.itsfactory.fi server for client accesses. Please see "API Access" later on this page for details on how to access the API.
The interface will be developed according to SIRI 1.3 standard.
Please note that the url is still subject to change since the service is in beta (a domain name will be added later on).
See ITS Factory Siri Access Developer Guide for how to access the API in REST and SIRI XML formats.
This page was last modified on 26 February 2016, at 13:16.