text:
Blake's Story
Summer of Two Worlds
Journey Into Darkness
A story in four parts
by J. Arthur Moore
Originally published in four separate volumes, J. Arthur Moore's chronicle of a young Arkansas boy's experiences on both sides of the Civil War battle lines gains emotional power as a single long tale.
"War does thin's ta ya," Duane says in a passage characteristic both of Moore's less-than-subtle use of dialect and the novel's fundamental power. "It makes ya kill when ya really ain't wantin' naturely ta do it. It's a horror ya cain't b'lieve really happens." Moore's central point, that war is hell and everyone longs for peace, is underscored in a poignant scene where a Federal band, playing within earshot of the Confederate army encamped across the river, begins with John Brown's Body but also plays Dixie; as it closes with Home Sweet Home, "tears ran unchecked down the cheeks of a hundred thousand [sic] men and boys."
Heartfelt and affecting, written in plain prose that suits its young protagonist, this sad story poignantly drives home the human cost of war.
On the Eve of Conflict: the beginning of the story, Book 1 of Journey Into Darkness
The fire leapt merrily on the hearth. The supper dishes had been washed and put away, and the evening chores were done. Mr. Kinkade was sitting in his favorite chair and staring into the fire. His wife rocked slowly in her high-backed, wooden rocker, quietly darning socks for her husband. Duane lay on the rug in front of the hearth, drawing pictures on wrapping paper with pieces of charcoal. Pounder lay napping, close to his side.
The man did not take his eyes off the fire as he addressed his wife. "Laura." He paused. "Ya know the South is secedin ta become the Confederacy. Well I heard taday thet fightin broke out in South Carolina 'n Lincoln declared war." He stopped and turned toward her. "I signed up taday ta help defend Arkansas if she should come ta be attacked."
The boy dropped his piece of charcoal and looked up at his father. Even though he had expected his pa to sign up, the reality that he had actually done so came as a shock to him. His mother stood up and, laying her darning aside, walked over to where her husband sat. Tears welled up in her eyes and dampened her cheeks. He reached up and clasped her hands in his, then pulled her into his lap. The dog merely opened his eyes to watch, though sensed the boy was upset and tensed to move if the boy should.
"Oh, Andy!" she cried and buried her face in his arms. He stroked her hair gently as he held her close and tried hard not to cry.
Duane felt a sudden emptiness in the pit of his stomach. He left his drawings and slipped out to the porch. His cheeks glistened wet as he looked out toward the shadow that was the barn and up toward the broken moon. His mouth quivered and he began to shake all over. The dog slipped silently to his side where he sat and watched the troubled face of the boy he loved. Grasping a post at the edge of the porch, Duane held tightly as he stood sobbing silently, the tears streaking his face. Suddenly the boy ran from the porch toward the haystack beside the barn. He threw himself down, buried his face in his arms, and cried out his heartache to the hay. He lay there a long time asking God why there had to be a war and why his father had to go. Pounder followed to lay by his side and lick the tears from his face. Duane caressed the soft head, then wrapped his arm around the thickly coated neck in an affectionate embrace and buried his face in its softness. The tears flowed as Pounder whined his concern for his grieving master. Finally the boy calmed down enough to notice that someone was approaching.
"Dee?" his father spoke gently.
Duane rolled over onto his back and gazed at his pa. Mr. Kinkade sat down beside him and the boy crawled closer to his father and lay his head in the security of his pa's lap. For a few minutes neither spoke.
"Pa," the boy began, "why do ya have ta go? Can't they fight without ya?"
"Son, if ev'ry father thought they could fight without him, the South wouldn't stand a chance." He held his son affectionately, caressing his shoulders as he hugged him close.
They sat there quietly as the sky slowly rotated over their heads. Strong arms wrapped the boy gently and held him close, hoping to God that he would be coming back after the war. Duane looked at his father and saw the hurt and the worry that he was feeling as he gazed intently at his home. The man's eyes turned to his son.
"Ain't it time ya git ta bed? Yer ma'll wonder where ya got ta."
"Ain't tired, Pa. I couldn't sleep now nohow."
His father stood up bringing Duane to his feet by his shoulders. The dog rose to his feet and watched. Grasping the boy's right shoulder firmly, the man turned his son in the direction of the lane. Pounder eased himself to a seated position and watched them go. They strolled slowly down the dirt and gravel pathway and across the meadows to their favorite fishing hole. Dark silhouettes of trees against the starlit sky seemed to float overhead as they passed along the ground between them.
Ma watched them from the doorway as they drifted through the moonlight, growing smaller in the distance. She understood, and turned to the hearth to keep the fire going and to await their return. Pounder, too, understood. He returned to the house where he lay down at the top of the steps to await their return.
The glistening silvery meadow smelled sweet in the night air as father and son walked quietly side by side.
"Pa, what's war like?"
"I dunno, Son. I've neve been in one b'fore. I s'pose it's bloody 'n tirin 'n prob'ly som'thin cruel. I fig'r when men go ta war, they fergit the enemy is people jest like them."
They continued on quietly for a time. Passing through the stand of silent pines, they came upon the meadow. They went on until they reached the darkened shape that was the oak, and there they stopped. The water rippled and gurgled along, interrupted every once in a while by a flash and a splash as a catfish broke across the surface.
Duane watched in silence as he relaxed against the sturdy figure who stood behind him. His pa absentmindedly rubbed his son's arms against the chill night air.
"When the war's over, Dee, we'll come down here afta the big one out there. Next time he won't steal my pole."
They both smiled at the memory.
The two stood there a long time, like statues in the night. It was a special feeling, a need each had to be close to the other, knowing full well there was much to do before the parting, and there was a distinct possibility they would never see each other once his father left. An owl hooted in the distance. Crickets sang in the grass. The need passed. The two turned and started back toward the house.
The dog stood as his master and the man crossed the yard toward the house, then preceded them inside. Mrs. Kinkade was darning socks when they arrived, and laid her work aside as the two entered the cabin.
"Night, Pa," Dee whispered after they had closed the door for the night. He went to his ma and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Night, Ma."
Pounder followed the boy into his room. The boy's room was small and sparsely furnished -- his bed, a wardrobe, and a chair. As he kicked off his boots and changed into his nightshirt, he could hear his parents banking the fire for the night. The lamp light dimmed and went out. Tossing his clothes in a heap on the chair, Duane climbed into bed and sat with his knees tucked up under his chin.
The dog raised himself halfway onto the bed and pushed his muzzle under Duane's wrist. The boy stroked the muzzle and face, then tossled his ears gently with both hands.
"I love ya, Pounder," he said softly. The dog whined his own love for the boy. "Go ta bed, now, boy."
The large shadowy form slipped from the bed and curled itself into a comfortable position across the doorway.
Faint moonlight drifted in the window, casting a glow on the room. Duane sat there, his mind reeling, but blurred. He was tired. Pulling up the quilt, the boy settled down into the bed, closed his eyes, and drifted into sleep.
Up From Corinth: Book 2 of Journey Into Darkness
A sparkling sky with its brilliant moon cast an eerie glow on the dewless and parched landscape. The divisions of General Gilbert's III Corps moved ghostlike in great clouds of silty dust as it crawled eastward along the Springfield Pike towards Perryville in search of water and a place to rest the night. Every soldier, every beast, every vehicle wore a mantle of white dust. It had worked its way into every crack and crevice of equipment and tack, every fold of wagon canvass and clothing and skin. Duane rode his horse near the side of the wagon. He felt the gritty film in his hair, under his shirt, in the folds of his eyelids and the hairs of his nostrils. It was layered on his sweat and stuck inside his parched mouth. The extent of his misery was masked by the depths of his exhaustion having been on the march for a week of this extended drought.
Earlier in the late afternoon there had been the distant sound of a cavalry skirmish. Word had come that a Confederate presence was established at Perryville. But more important, there was water ahead. Darkness had fallen almost five hours ago, still the army moved. Suddenly the front of Sheridan's division came upon the puddled creek bed and found itself under attack from the ridge of land east of the creek. It was an hour before midnight. The night-lit terrain with its shadows and soft bright reflections was difficult to defend. As the division came to rest, an Indiana brigade was sent forward to seize the creek bed and scatter the Confederate defenders.
While elements of the division maneuvered for battle, an officer rode up to the supply wagon. "Lieutenant," he called to Marshalton, "get up there and see what you can do to help!"
"Yes, Sir, Captain!" he wheeled his horse around to the back of the wagon. "Johnny, pass me my field pack. Grab a supply pack for Dee." He turned to a quartermaster company nearby. "Sergeant, bring up litters and field supplies and follow! Johnny, bring the wagon as close as you can."
"Here!" Johnny called as he passed the requested gear. "I'll be along."
Orders were passed in the night confusion as the doctor, the boy, and two dozen soldiers moved toward the fighting to help the wounded. The brigade was repulsed and the walking wounded began to wander back from the field of battle. Midnight passed as the shooting ceased and the wounded were attended in the soft glow of starlight and the high, nearly full moon, wherever they met the surgeon and his party along the roadway from the creek. The lieutenant's party continued to work its way forward until they came upon the wounded who had fallen near the front of the assault. They lay along a ridge of land that paralleled the creek below. A small valley lay bathed in night light which reflected off the pools of water and caressed the bodies of fallen soldiers on the sloping ground stretching gently to the dry banks.
The boy could hardly swallow for the dryness in his throat. He stared longingly at the reflection of the water and felt a hand grasp his wrist as Dan read his thoughts and cautioned against a rash move. The two tied their horses to the branches of nearby shrubs, then joined the others as they turned their attention to the wounded. While the small groups worked quietly they could feel the enemy watching from the opposite ridge. They could sense their whispered conversations. There was a feeling of mutual truce. In that sense of safety, the boy worked his way down to the water. Then he lay in the damp dirt, pulling himself over to the pool to quench the dryness in his throat. The warm fluid felt comforting. Duane sat back on his knees and slipped his canteen from his shoulders, lay it in the water, and pushed it under to watch it fill. Returning to the wounded, he shared the precious liquid with the conscious.
Nearly two hours had passed in the first night of the new day. A few of the wounded had been removed from the slope. Suddenly the night was shattered by the approach of a new assault. Instinctively the boy dove for cover in a rocky flaw on the hillside as two new brigades from Sheridan's division moved down the slope, crossed the creek, and advanced up the far side.
The moonlit valley erupted in violent conflict as the Confederate line poured a devastating fire upon the advancing Federals. Relentlessly the Union troops pressed the attack in a deafening clatter of musket and rifle fire. The night was filled with screams of pain, the shout of orders, the Rebel yell, the smoke and din of battle, the whine of projectiles glancing off rocks. Duane kept low, not daring to look for fear a stray bullet would find its mark and strike him down. The assault stalled briefly, then pushed forward up the slope, forcing the Confederate defenders to fall back toward the town. The line was broken. The defenders continued a stubborn resistance as they withdrew. Sheridan's troops pursued the retreating forces and the fight faded noisily from the ridges of the eastern creek bank.
Duane and the others advanced cautiously as they moved to help the wounded. Before long the rest of the division began to move forward. More assistance arrived to help the wounded as the majority of the troops paused for water on their way up the slope to establish lines of battle along the ridge to the east of the creek before resting where they stood for what few hours remained of the night.
Johnny had arrived with the wagon and was on foot in the area of the recent fighting, when he called, "Dee! Come here quick!"
Duane sensed an urgency in the voice and dashed through the water and up the embankment. He found his friend kneeling beside a Confederate corpse.
"What fer'd ya call, Johnny?" He breathed hard to catch his breath.
"You might want to look close on that uniform," he pointed. "This regiment's from Arkansas."
Duane knelt to inspect the insignia in the moonlight. He glanced up to his friend. "Seventh Arkansas." His eyes were moist with a sudden surge of emotion. But any tears were forced back as he continued somewhat hoarsely, "We gotta find one thet's alive. I gotta know if'n maybe some'n knows of my pa."
"You check along the top to see what you can find," Johnny suggested. "I'll continue to help along the slope here."
"Thanks," Duane accepted. "Jeremiah's still where I left him on the other ridge. Chance I don't see ya afte' a look about, I'll git him first thin then follow on to where eve' ya head with the wagon."
"Be careful."
"I aim ta."
The two separated as Duane walked off through the noise and movement of newly arriving regiments in search of Confederate survivors. He paused a moment to scan the moonlit high ground. In the shadows beneath a stand of maples a little distant from the commotion of soldiers settling in for a few hours rest, there was a movement. Something metallic caught a stray beam of light and flashed in the darkness. The boy approached cautiously, unholstering his revolver as he neared the dark shadows, slowing his pace to allow his eyes to search for information. His heart pounded nervously as he wondered if danger lay ahead or someone who could help him or just a tree branch giving way.
An injured soldier leaned against a tree trunk. One arm hung bloodied and useless at his side. The other supported a musket with fixed bayonet, pointing directly at Duane. The boy dropped to his knees raising his revolver in one swift movement, but paused with his thumb on the hammer when he saw in the dim light that the soldier had not pulled back the hammer on his weapon.
"I ain't fixin ta be kilt," Duane spoke nervously. "But it ain't my wantin ta do no killin neither."
"Thet sets jest right with me, Boy." He lowered the weapon and Duane did likewise. "Wouldn't do no good nohow seein's it ain't loaded."
"Ya bad hurt?" Duane stepped closer as he slipped his weapon back into its holster and took the canteen from his shoulder.
"Don't figure ta be goin under fer it. Seems ma arm's busted up." He accepted the offered canteen and took a short drink from its contents. "Ain't ya the one thet went ta the water fer this last fightin?"
"Yeh." He took back the wooden container and shoved the cork back into the opening.
"Where ya from, Boy? Ya don't talk like no Yank I eve' heard."
"Benton, Arkansas." He looked at the shattered arm and saw it was still bleeding. "My pa's some'ere's in this war 'n I'm hopin ya'll be knowin somethin as kin help me fer ta find him." Dropping his pack on the ground, the boy pulled out some bandages and started to wrap the arm while he spoke. "I saw by one a yer dead as ya'll's from Arkansas, too."
"There's a heap a Arkansas regiments here. How's it ya come ta be a Yank 'n yer pa's a Reb?"
"Ain't no Yank. Jest picked up by 'em when I got shot to Shiloh." The boy concentrated on the job at hand, saying nothing. But he knew from what he had seen working with Johnny and the lieutenant, that a surgeon would take the arm off when this soldier's turn came on the table.
"Where'd ya larn whateve tis yer doin?" the man asked.
"Lieutenant Marshalton's a doctor. Seein as how he's lookin afta me, he's learnin me some, too."
As the moon dipped lower toward the close of night, its light brightened the shadows under the trees. Duane's eyes had grown used to the dim light and he studied the man he was helping. Green-grey eyes studied the boy, too. They were warm and kindly, a hint of a sad smile and the wish that war didn't exist. An agile body, firm in muscle tone, and calloused hands, suggested here was another farmer.
A sudden movement not twenty feet in front of them caught the man's attention and his eyes clouded with alarm. Duane felt a pressure from the shattered arm as the soldier spoke.
"Look out, Boy!" He raised his musket.
Duane dropped the ends of the fabric he was in the midst of tying. A gunshot shattered the night as he dove to the ground and grabbed for his revolver.
Across the Valley to Darkness: Book 3 of Journey Into Darkness
The 13th Alabama regiment advanced to the right of center. The 1st Tennessee held the right end of the line. The remaining three regiments stretched to the left. Duane saw only one other brigade clear the woods with Fry's. It was Pettigrew's. General Pettigrew appeared concerned that the remaining brigades on the left were not advancing. Finally they appeared and the whole line was dressed and in straight order as it neared the end of the point of wood to the right.
Duane continued to keep the cadence -- a hundred and ten steps per minute for a forward rate of just under a hundred yards per minute. Looking ahead the boy saw clearly in the distance, beneath the rising smoke from the cannonade, the lines of blue defenders along walls and fences, and the clusters of artillery whose crews were busy preparing their guns. It certainly didn't appear that the artillery had done its job.
On either side of the road in front, were the thin lines of skirmishers, bobbing in wheat fields as they prepared to open fire on each other. They had been the safest during the artillery duel. The shells had simply traveled overhead.
The advancing line cleared the last trees and the boy could see the men of Pickett's division in the field a little ahead and far to the right. If he weren't so twisted in his gut by a deep-set fear, Duane might have seen something grand in the mile-wide front of brigades in dressed formation. But the distant puffs of smoke on the hilltops beyond the right and left were followed by the booming of artillery.
Still the line advanced. Artillery opened on both flanks and in places along the front. Shells screamed through the hot mid-afternoon air and exploded in the ranks. Pieces of bodies and gear blew into the air as the missiles of death took their toll. Great holes appeared in the ranks as ten men or more were taken out by a single shell. So far, the center of the line was relatively safe.
Pickett's division reached a stretch of low ground, out of the line of fire. There it paused to redress its lines. Moving forward once again, it came under a sudden and destructive fire. Then, on command, the whole division shifted to a left oblique and marched at a 45 degree angle. This slowed down the forward movement as it brought the entire division to the left to link with the end of Fry's line. The far left of Pettigrew's line collapsed under a flanking attack and began to fall back in disorderly retreat. The remaining brigades approached the road.
Because of the road's angle, the center of the line would strike it first. Colonel Fry's brigade was about two hundred and fifty yards from the Union line when the enemy fired in line by brigades and regiments. The impact of flying lead slammed into the front lines with devastating results. The flags went down, were picked back up, and continued forward. Scores of men fell wounded, some dead. Duane felt a sting of pain from a bullet that buzzed the side of his left leg. But it failed to slow him as another ripped through the wood of the drum. Artillery from several batteries opened with canister. All that the boy could see of the Federal front was a roiling cloud of smoke specked with flashes of fire in a long line.
"Forward!" Lieutenant Jenkins cried and waved his sword.
The companies advanced in bunches. Coming up against a board fence, the men of the brigade tried to break it down with their rifle butts. It would not give. The skirmishers before them had not been able to break down this section of fence. Here they waited and joined the line of attack. It would be necessary to go over the top.
As the first file crossed the top boards, sharpshooters opened fire. Foley was hit in the wrist but continued to advance. Duane heard a bullet whiz by his head and another strike the rim of the drum. Many slammed into the wooden planks and posts. Sergeant Henson was seriously wounded as a bullet passed through his neck and shoulder. He toppled into the ditch beside the roadway. Private Wilson was killed.
The line paused briefly in the safety of the roadway which ran below the grade of the field. The men lay down to rest a minute before going over the second fence on the opposite side of the road.
"I ain't wantin ta do this!" Jamie called to Duane over the roar of the battle.
"We're this far!" Duane called back. "Let's go finish it!"
They were on their feet again. Jamie slipped his rifle between the fence boards. Clambering over the planks as quickly as possible, they dropped to the ground on the other side amidst a hail of bullets, then rolled to their feet to go on.
Once past the fence, the lines redressed, linked up with Pickett's division, and moved forward as one solid front.
Enemy artillery and infantry continued heavy all along the front as the Confederate line closed and began its own destructive fire. The air was thick with cries of pain, the shout of orders, the whir and whine of lead. Great empty spaces continued to be blown in the Confederate ranks as artillery took out large numbers. The artillery back on Seminary Ridge continued to wreck havoc as its shells fell along the Union line and disabled men and cannon.
Officers were falling in great numbers as bullets and shell fragments found their marks. But still the colors remained upright and the remaining troops continued to close on them.
A slight grade remained before the Union fences. Colonel Fry led the charge as his little brigades swept furiously up the gentle slope. Firing and yelling, they flew forward. The colonel fell with a bullet in the thigh.
"Go on!" he called. "It will not last five minutes longer!"
To the right, the men from Pickett's left were with them. A lieutenant in a Virginia regiment clasped hands with a captain of the 1st Tennessee shouting, "Virginia and Tennessee will stand together on these works today!"
Both flanks of the Confederate line were being turned in. Duane felt the push of troops as they closed in on the center. Regimental colors were crowding into bunches as the men swarmed toward them. The low stone walls were only a few yards away. Now, for the first time since the lines stepped from the trees some twenty minutes back, the attackers let lose their blood-curdling Rebel yell and swept across the walls. Tennessians, Alabamians, and Virginians moved together.
Masses of blue ebbed about, trying to stay the attack. A few remaining artillerymen frantically loaded canister shot. Duane jammed his sticks into his belt and drew his revolver. A gun crew was loading to the right. He fired on one who went down. Others ran. The gun was turned. The boy fired again. In front, the Federals gave way in full retreat. The cannon fired its charge of canister into the flank of the Rebel mass. Screams of pain, cannon fire, muskets and rifles, the Rebel yell, shouts of orders, exploding shells pressed against the senses. The boy also felt a cutting pain as a shard from a shattered stone sliced across his ribs.
A blue line of infantry paused on the higher ground in front, to fire on the Rebel infantry at the angle in the fence. But it would not advance.
"Look!" Jamie shouted. "They's perfect targets on the sky!"
The boy fired along with several in the closing companies and the Federal soldiers fell in bunches. But their line held and their return fire was deadly.
One of Pickett's generals crossed the wall where the Union gunners had been driven from their battery and the guns stood silent.
"Come on, Boys, give them the cold steel! Who will follow me?"
He went forward with hat held high on the point of his sword. A rush of men and colors followed him over the wall. Fierce hand-to-hand combat surged about the wall. Infantrymen and artillerymen fought back with rifle butts, hand spikes, and rocks. Men on both sides fired and loaded and fired again. One battery of cannon continued to operate with double loads of canister. But its crew was being thinned at a rapid rate.
As the tide of grey and blue surged and ebbed and mingled in mortal combat, and the air filled with smoke and noise, debris and blood, the few who remained in Company K continued to load and fire on the men in blue. They fought without order. The lieutenant had fallen. Standing, kneeling, pushing through the massed humanity, they did their work.
A flying stone caught Jamie on the head and he went down, blood streaming from a scalp wound. Duane had felt the pull of bullets passing through his clothing, felt the warm dampness of his blood running down his leg and pooling in his shirt, and had heard the missiles of death singing through the air. He knelt to check on Jamie and to load a fresh cylinder into his revolver. The drum sang out as a bullet ripped its head. His companion would be okay. Rising to his feet, he dropped the empty cylinder into his pouch and felt pain seer through his left arm. A bullet had passed through the muscle below his elbow. Blood quickly soaked through his shirt.
There wasn't time for this. The boy moved toward the silent guns for cover. The general who had crossed the wall was gone. Duane saw the general where he lay wounded near the wall. Lead sprayed and burned his cheek as a bullet struck the gun barrel. The blood dripped from the finger tips of his wounded arm as he rested the revolver in his good hand on the gun carriage and fired into the chaotic mass of Federal troops in the trees to the right.
The fragments from the remaining Confederate regiments were falling fast. Some of the colors lay on the ground or were propped against the stonework. Union reinforcements rushed to the scene, but had not yet advanced. Fear held them back. Pain struck Duane's ankle as a sliver of metal cut through his sock. Beyond the trees there was a fierce volley of artillery fire as smoke billowed down the slope and across the stone wall to erase an entire Confederate charge. An eerie silence fell ahead.
Union fire into the mass of grey, mingling leaderless near the angle in the wall, intensified.
"Help me with this gun!" Duane called as he noticed a charge of canister on the ground behind the gun.
Bullets ricocheted from stone and field piece. Suddenly, the powder charge attached to the canister load erupted in flame and smoke. The explosion wrapped around the gun and slammed debris through the drum and the boy's flesh. He felt the heat of the fire and the sting of flying metal. The concussion of explosion wrapped him in pain and the smell of smoke.
Blackness invaded the boy's senses with one grand roaring crescendo and sudden pain.
Then silence. Darkness. Nothing.
Toward the End of the Search: the conclusion of the story, Book 4 of Journey Into Darkness
The time for sleep was short. Predawn glow had just begun to redden the eastern horizon when gunfire erupted to the north west. It was 5 AM as the battle was renewed. Within minutes, a clattering of musketry announced the advance of skirmishers as General Birney's division moved to the offensive. More than 20,000 Federal troops advanced against General Lee as the noise of conflict awoke Duane and Johnny. Suddenly the woods exploded with the roar of violence as the mile-wide wave of battle surged relentlessly forward.
During the next two hours the Federal line continued to push forward. At first, the two youths worked together as the ebb tide of wounded stumbled to the rear in search of help. Along the Brock Road from the north of the aid station, troops and artillery flowed southward into the battle. The immediate crossroads hung thick with the rolling dust of their passage and the noise of the moving masses and their vehicles, spurred on by the shouts and commands of their officers.
Word came that the battle line was nearly a mile to the front of the breastworks.
"Dee," Johnny shouted over the din of activity, "you stay here with Joshua and Micah. I have to go forward with the brigade!"
With that, Johnny was gone. Wagons of ammunition and medical supplies rumbled down the road. Duane heard all this feverish movement of battle and worried in the back of his mind that Johnny would be killed. He was sure something terrible would happen. Nevertheless, he continued to help dispense materials from supply packs and to follow the guidance of the two bandsmen as he assisted them in whatever way they needed.
The roaring tide of battle continued in the distance for most of the morning. For a time, numbers of Confederate wounded and prisoners were brought in as the Union line had collapsed the Rebel line and forced it back upon itself. Then, as the sun neared its high point at noon, there came a distinct crescendo in the fighting. The tide was turning and the Confederates were pushing the Federals hard toward their own breastworks. A great rush of activity spilled from the woods as retreating infantrymen dashed to the rear and a vast horde of wounded was brought in.
Shortly after noon, the retreat was complete as the Federal forces returned to their breastworks and Johnny rejoined his friend. The smell of burnt powder became strong in the air as it blended with the smell of blood. The ground about the aid station was littered with the mix of wounded, both Union and Confederate.
"The surgeons are having a real rough time of it," Johnny observed as he helped Duane distribute stiptics, bandages, and splints. "Just as fast as one poor fellow is cut and moved another is on the table. The blood is so deep, the ground at their feet is a red slime. The bloody pieces of bodies are stacked in piles knee high."
"Damn it ta Hell, Johnny, but this be one time I's glad I cain't see 'n I really ain't needin fer ya ta say as how bad it is. The pain an' screamin 'r bad 'nough. Ma nose an' ma ears is tellin a real heap a horrifyin sufferin. I reckon too, as I hears Reb voices in the wounded likewise."
Hundreds were occupied with the task of treating the wounded. The fighting continued along the first line of breastworks as the brigades of General Birney's division continued to withdraw to the line of defenses. The momentum slowed and the battle line settled in a stalemate just a few hundred yards from the field medical activity. By mid afternoon there was a welcomed lull in the fighting during which General Hancock directed a rearrangement of troops for greater strength and in preparation of a concerted charge to be mounted in the late afternoon.
As fast as they could, the non-combatants at the aid station loaded the wounded who could travel onto ambulances to be transported off to Fredericksburg.
"Hey, Dee," Johnny called. "What was your brigade at Gettysburg?"
"Thirteenth Alabama. Why?" He tied off a bandage knot, then stood to face the voice.
"There's a wounded Reb here from the 13th, a kid named Matthewson."
"Jamie!" Duane shouted. "Is he bad hurt?"
Johnny moved to guide the boy to the lanky youth who lay among the wounded. "Looks bad."
"Dee, is't really thet yer alive?" the faint voice called weakly.
"I is fer sher," he knelt beside the sixteen-year-old. "Ya got back from the fightin thet day?"
"Yeh," pain cut him short.
Duane remained beside his Confederate comrade while Johnny left to continue his work.
The youth went on, "I come to near evenin an saw as they was takin in wounded. I made like I was dead an waited fer night ta git back ta the company. I sher did think as ya'd met yer maker when I last saw ya layin in yer blood." A fit of coughing overcame the wounded youth.
The younger teen sought his friend's face with his fingers and explored gently to see how bad he was hurt.
"Hey," Jamie whispered, "it tickles. What ya doin?"
"I cain't see, Jamie. Lost ma sight thet day when a powder charge blew in ma face." He felt the sweat and dirt of battle and the long curls of dusty hair, but no indication of a wound. Wait. There was a trickle of blood at the corner of his lips. "How bad hurt is ya?"
"There's one as burned ma arm. Another grazed a shoulder. Wu'st one's in ma gut -- broke a rib an' got ma innards. Weren't so bad fi'st off. But the Yanks had already gone by an' the only way out an' not bein shot agin, was ta the Yank side. I started ta walk 'n only went a few yards an' had ta crawl. Some with a litter carried me out."
"What's this?" Duane asked, wiping blood from his friend's mouth.
"Banged inta a tree branch durin the fightin. Kinda dumb, I s'pose."
Duane slipped his hand to the bloodied shirt around Jamie's abdomen. Ripping it open, he gently explored the wound, first where the bullet entered; then, by sliding his hand around the older boy's side, the exit hole on his back.
"Oh God! Thet hurts!" Jamie gasped in sudden pain.
"I'm gonna put some bandagin ta hold ya tageth'r, Jamie," Duane explained as he searched his pack for more fabric.
"It ain't wo'th yer tryin, Dee. I know I ain't got much time left. Jest stay with me an' talk some." The wounded youth fought hard to control his voice and to keep the pain from taking over.
"Sher, Jamie," Duane agreed as he gently withdrew his hand from the pooling blood beneath his friend and laid the front of the shirt back across the broken body. "But I ain't wantin fer ya ta die." His voice cracked.
"I ain't a'fear'd none, Dee. I ain't wantin it neith'r, but I knows it's a certain." His voice quivered and a tear slipped free to course its way through the powder which blackened his face. "Jest stay with me a piece."
As the two continued to talk and Duane learned the fate of some he'd known, the hour slipped away. Suddenly, at four o'clock, the air was rent with gunfire as a fierce Rebel charge burst toward the first line of breastworks. The Union line exploded in destructive volleys of riflery and thunderclaps of artillery fire.
The two teenagers shook at the sudden explosion of activity. They were quickly enveloped in the smoke of battle as a breeze blew the sulphurous cloud in their direction.
"Kin ya see how fer the fightin is?" Duane asked.
"'Bout two hundred yards," Jamie answered.
As the battle erupted all along the Brock Road defenses, the woodland once more burst into flames. The wind blew them toward the Union defenses and soon Jamie reported to Duane that the Federal breastworks had caught fire.
"The Yanks is fallin back an' ar people 'r comin through the fire ta the wall!" Jamie described while the bullets whined overhead. "The two armies ain't twelve paces apart shootin each other through the flames," he continued.
Shouts of orders, the roar of cannons, the rattle of frantic wheels, the whinny of horses, the raking volleys of musket fire, screams of pain and panic, rose to a numbing intensity.
"Get down!" Johnny shouted as he rushed to Duane's position. "We're holding them!"
The leading edge of attacking Confederates mounted the breastworks, but the fighters were cut down as fast as they came. Finally, the men of General Birney's division were rapidly reinforced as new troops were brought into the conflict. The line held. Frantic activity behind the line kept everyone busy who was able to help as the new flood of casualties fell in the immediate front. Eventually, the fighting subsided as the sun sank low in the west and twilight dimmed the woodlands. A crackling red glow moved eerily through the wilderness. As the fighting ceased and the moans of the wounded rose on the air, fires raced about the underbrush. Moans turned to screams. Scattered gunfire popped about the wilderness as pockets in the clothes on the dead and wounded, filled with rifle cartridges, ignited, and the charges exploded.
The troops settled warily as the wagons raced about to re-supply ammunition and caissons were brought in with fresh munitions chests for the artillery. The work among the wounded was constant. Hundreds had gathered and lay about the area waiting to be attended. Once more, the nurses and non-combatants worked into the night.
Duane took a break around midnight and asked Joshua to guide him back to where Jamie lay.
"Sorry I bin so busy, Jamie," he spoke as he knelt. "Want some water?"
There was no response.
Duane reached out to be sure his friend was there. His hand touched a shoulder. But it was hard as rock. His fingers searched for the face.
"This ain't the right one, Joshua," Duane stated, as he felt the cold hard flesh and the soft curls of hair. "Damn this war!" he exclaimed quietly to himself. "Damn it all ta Hell!"
Summer of Two Worlds:
For a moment no one spoke. Grandfather sat with one elbow resting on an upraised knee while he subconsciously rubbed the recent scar on his other leg. Prairie Cub sat back on his heels. Thunder Eagle stood near the door opening of Grandfather's tepee and looked thoughtfully at his father. Their eyes met in search of meaning and in understanding of what the vision might foretell. Finally, Grandfather turned to the boy.
"My grandson, your dream speaks of the future. The day will come when I will go to the other world. The day will also come when our people will be driven from the life they know to the white man's reservations. Your dream gives me courage that I might end my life in the old ways. But it also says that our people will be violently driven from their ways. It could happen soon. It could be many seasons." He paused, a sadness in his eyes. "When that time comes you will have to make a decision."
The boy sensed something deeply serious in what was about to be said. He glanced at his father. An expressionless face told him that Thunder Eagle knew what Grandfather would speak of.
"You are Prairie Cub," Grandfather continued. "But you are also Michael." The boy flinched. "You live in one world. But you were born into another world. You must realize that the time may come when you will have to return to that other world."
"Never!" the boy cried jumping to his feet. "I am Prairie Cub, son of Thunder Eagle! I will never leave my people." Dashing toward the door opening he was intercepted by his father's outstretched arm. He felt its strength draw his body from its flight. His voice faltered. "Please, don't make me leave." He cried. The tears welled up in his eyes and streamed unchecked down his face.
Thunder Eagle, in a rare moment of affection, knelt and held his son close to the warmth of his own body. "My son, you are always Prairie Cub until you choose to take another name. What is said must be said." He turned the boy to face him, holding his son firmly by the shoulders. Their eyes met. "What is said must be said. It will not be spoken of again unless our destiny force it upon us. But it must be known that all our lives could change greatly one day." His eyes, too, were moist as the warrior stood again, fully in control of his emotions. "Granny-Woman and your mother must have the tepee up by now. Let's go and see if they have prepared some food."
Copyright 2014 © Litfire Publishing


*Large west facing villa situated on a quiet community of 20 other villas set amongst the many restaurants, bars and shops of the area, you are literally a stone's throw from everything and the beach is a 7 minute walk away. The quiet private garden of the property leads out into the expansive beautifully kept community gardens with its large swimming pool. The villa itself is well laid out with 4 bedroom on the ground floor with the huge master suite on the upper level from which you access a large terrace with jacuzzi. This is a great villa at a very good price in an absolutely perfect location for a holiday home, rental property or a permanent residence.


text:
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Page last updated at 16:50 GMT, Monday, 16 June 2008 17:50 UK
EU must give Ireland time - Brown
The UK government has insisted the EU treaty is not dead
Gordon Brown has said EU leaders must agree to give Dublin "time to reflect" on its next steps over the EU treaty.
Voters in the Irish Republic - the only state to hold a referendum - rejected the treaty, which must be ratified by all 27 EU members, on Friday.
Foreign Secretary David Miliband, after meeting EU colleagues, told MPs that ratification in the UK would go ahead.
Shadow foreign secretary William Hague said the UK should halt ratification and make clear the treaty was finished.
The Bill to ratify the treaty is nearing the end of its progression through Parliament.
The House of Lords is due to hold the third reading of the Bill on 18 June.
Economic reform
There has been a long running campaign for there to be a British referendum on the treaty, which was drawn up after the EU constitution was killed off by referendum defeats in France and Holland.
A referendum had been promised by all the main parties on the constitution, but UK ministers have said a referendum was not needed on the EU treaty, claiming it did not have constitutional implications.
Is it not now clear beyond that there is profound opposition among the peoples of Europe over the substance of this treaty?
William Hague
Shadow foreign secretary
The Conservatives led calls for a referendum on the treaty, saying that it was virtually identical to the abandoned constitution.
During exchanges in the Commons Mr Hague said the Irish people had been "courageous" in the face of threats from some EU politicians.
And the republic had displayed true democracy by holding a referendum, adding that the result - 53.4% of Irish voters voted "no" - should be respected.
"Is it not now clear beyond that there is profound opposition among the peoples of Europe over the substance of this treaty?" he added.
Mr Miliband said the rules of the treaty and the EU were clear - "all 27 member states must ratify the treaty for it to come into force".
Tackling terrorism
"There is no question of ignoring the Irish vote or bulldozing Irish opinion," he said.
However, he added: "The government believes ratification should proceed as planned."
For the generally pro-EU Liberal Democrats, foreign affairs spokesman Ed Davey said the UK should not pre-judge what might happen at the meeting of EU leaders later this week.
He asked Mr Miliband whether the government intended to withold "despositing the instrument of ratification in Rome" until after the EU summit.
Mr Miliband did not say whether the UK would do so. He said that for the treaty to be ratified all 27 states would have to deposit their "ratification articles" in Rome and "clearly that will not happen before the European Council thisThursday and Friday".
Mr Davey said the EU had worked adequately in recent times, so with or without the Lisbon treaty, the focus should now move on to concentrating on issues like economic reform and tackling terrorism.
What are these?
IRELAND REFORM TREATY REACTION
Ireland's PM makes statement on vote
EC President says Europe's work goes on
UK foreign secretary vows to stand firm
INSIDE EUROPE
Barroso backs eurobonds
LISBON TREATY
Q&A: The Lisbon Treaty
Q&A: EU External Action Service
UK criticises EU famine response
Q&A: How UK adopts EU laws
Hewitt on Europe
Is the current EU bail-out the right strategy for Greece?
Viewpoints: Euro at crossroads
Eurozone in crisis - graphics
Watch Ashton pledges 'quiet diplomacy'
ECB hints at robust euro action
Eurozone crisis: Possible resolutions
EU Commission: Who's who?
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An article about Master Sundar Rao.
The Flute Maker's Life … .. ..
BANGALORE, APRIL 8. The fate of an institution that was founded by the great flutist, the late T.R.Mahalingam, in 1973, and a disciple of the maestro who "inherited his legacy," hangs in the balance as the State Government has reportedly turned a deaf ear to request for assistance.
Mahalingam, who was fondly known as Mali, founded the Ramakrishna Bhajana Mandali in 1973 at Palace Guttahalli in Bangalore.
Bhajans were held at the Mandali, which was then located in a small house, on every Saturday. Renowned musicians from various parts of the country performed at the Mandali, which was considered to be a "temple" by music lovers in Bangalore.
However, when Mali moved to the U.S. in 1981, he entrusted a "good disciple" of his and a talented flautist in his own right, Mr. B.M.Sundar Rao, with the responsibility of running the Mandali.
Mali, in a letter dated August 8, 1981, said that he was entrusting to Mr. Sundar Rao the responsibility of ensuring the sound functioning of the mandali, and appealed to music lovers to contribute to its continuance.
After Mali passed away in 1986, Mr. Sundar Rao renamed the Ramakrishna Bhajan Mandali as the Flute T.R.Mahalingam Memorial School of Music.
Apart from sustaining the activities started by his "guru," Mr. Sundar Rao started conducting free classes in playing the flute.
Mr. Sunder Rao told this Correspondent that from 1986 more than 4,000 students were taught to play the flute at the institute. Mr. Sunder Rao's son now conducts free mridangam classes there.
A unique distinction of Mr. Sunder Rao, who has given a large number of performances in Paris, France, Italy, Holland, Germany and the U.K., is that he not only plays the flute but also manufactures the musical instrument. Though he spends a lot of money on procuring bamboo from Tamil Nadu and Kerala and oils that are required to treat the bamboo for making flutes, he distributes them free of cost to his students.
"Except in rare cases where I charge Rs. 50 to Rs. 100 per flute, I give away the flutes free to my students," Mr. Sundar Rao said.
The 62-year-old Mr. Sundar Rao said that with his only source of income being the money he earned by giving concerts and the monthly honorarium of Rs. 250 received from the State Government, it was difficult for him to run the institute (which is now housed in a rented room) and conduct free classes.
Many requests made by him to the State Government to sanction a site to set up the institute have not yielded results.
The Home Minister, Mr. Mallikarjuna Kharge, and the Public Works Minister, Mr. Dharam Singh, while in the Opposition, had recommended Mr. Sundar Rao's case to the Government.
Recently, the Leader of the Opposition in the Legislative Council, Mr. K.H. Srinivasa, wrote to the Minister of State for Kannada and Culture, Ms. Rani Satish, requesting her to provide assistance to Mr. Sundar Rao.


Flip Down Roof Monitors: Easy Trip with Happy Passengers!
Flip-down Monitors: Easy Trip with Happy Passengers!
Let's continue to discuss whether drivers and passengers need monitors in the car or it's just a whim. In the previous article we dealt with in-dash displays, headrest and armrest monitors. Today we will talk about flip down monitors, also called – roof TVs.
On the one hand those who travel in the car alone or just give a lift to their coworkers hardly need this device. However, if you plan a long family trip or just want to entertain your rear seat passengers so they don't distract you from driving, roof DVD will be very handy. You can ask why we don't offer headrest monitors which we praised so much in the previous article? Here is our answer: headrest monitors are really great, but what shall one do if there are 3 passengers instead of two and they will fight for DVD (especially when these are your children). Roof monitors are shrewd choice when you have 7-seater minivan and it's not so cost-effective to buy headrest monitor for each passenger.
And don't be afraid to spoil the interior or make it too clumsy. Flip-down monitor is fairly compact device and you can hardly notice it when folded.
If you have a light vehicle, 9-10.4 inch monitors will suit you the best. These monitors are already equipped with built-in DVD player, so you don't need to buy anything additionally. You can use various media: discs, flash drivers and even SD memory cards.
We also recommend buying wireless headphones, so that the sound doesn't irritate the driver and the passengers can enjoy the film.
So, switch the monitor on, adjust the position of the display (most of monitors rotate at least by 90° each side), give wireless earphones to your children and have a good trip.
If you don't want to buy headphones, you can listen to the audio from the built-in speakers or via OEM stereo system of your car (using embedded FM transmitter).
Mobile offices are one more sphere of roof monitors application. You move a lot during the working day and, maybe, with your clients or suppliers? Suppose you don't waste this time and hold your presentation or show your promotion video directly in the car, how do you like it?
Our online store sells bus roof monitors with the screen size from 15 to 19 inches. We offer flip-down DVDs as well as flip-down displays, to which you can connect external video devices, e.g. DVD player, HD player or TV receiver.
Flip-down monitors can have different cases. For example, here you can see the monitor in metal vandal proof case.
Such case is more durable. However, it's not so comfortable because the passengers can strike against it while boarding the bus. To avoid such situations we offer monitors in plastic cases which can be opened manually or using remote control.
You can also buy wireless headphones for each passenger seat. Thus people would not disturb those who don't want to watch and listen to anything. Otherwise you can stream sound through OEM speakers. We offer constructing multifunctional bus multimedia system on the base of flip-down monitors.
We wish you shrewd choice!
If you have any questions or want to share your installation experience, welcome to Car Solutions forum.


Nairobi, Kenya - The Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD) mediators this afternoon concluded a five-day retreat supported by The African Centre for the Constructive Resolution of Disputes (ACCORD) and UNDP in Nairobi, Kenya.
21-09-2016, Djibouti: As the world commemorates the International Day of Peace today September 21, 2016, IGAD reflects on its active engagement in conflict and post conflict countries as well as facilitation of successful conclusions of several peace initiatives to restore and maintain peace, security and stability in the IGAD region.
Through the Peace and security Division, IGAD has constantly enhanced its and Member States' predictive and preventive capabilities to respond to and resolve conflicts in order to contribute to the promotion of peaceful and inclusive society in the IGAD region.
IGAD Security Sector Program (IGAD SSP) in partnership with the Global Counterterrorism Forum (GCTF) held a three-days training workshop from September 15 to 17, 2016 on Electronic Surveillance as a Good Practice in Preventing and Countering Terrorism in the Horn and Eastern Africa Region in Mombasa, Kenya.


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Can I call you back? cialis kpa sverige However, the European Court of Human Rights judges rejected claims by the tycoon, who was once the richest man in Russia, that "President Putin orchestrated criminal prosecution" because of his "political ambitions and his independence in business matters".


text:
Oberlin College est une université d'arts libéraux américaine fondée à Oberlin (Ohio) en 1833.

Présentation
Nommée d'après le pasteur français Jean-Frédéric Oberlin, elle est distinguée pour avoir été la première institution d'enseignement supérieur américaine à admettre des étudiants de sexe féminin (1837) et afro-américains (1835). Elle abrite en son sein une prestigieuse école de musique, l'Oberlin Conservatory of Music, la plus ancienne en fonctionnement continu aux États-Unis (1865), récompensée par le président Obama en février 2010 par la National Medal of Arts et la seule école de musique professionnelle à être ainsi honorée. Ses couleurs officielles, le rouge et or, sont tirées des armoiries de la famille de Jean-Frédéric Oberlin. Les diplômés d'Oberlin College obtiennent plus de doctorats que ceux de n'importe quelle autre université d'arts libéraux américaine.

Militantisme politique
Le corps étudiant d'Oberlin a une longue histoire de militantisme et une réputation d'être notablement de gauche (« liberal »).

Dans les années 1960, Memorial Arch est devenu un point de ralliement pour les défenseurs des droits civiques et le mouvement anti-guerre du Collège. Oberlin a fourni un nombre disproportionné de participants au Mississippi Freedom Summer, a reconstruit l'église baptiste d'Antioche dans le projet Carpenters for Christmas, a soutenu des sit-ins parrainés par la National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) à Cleveland afin d'intégrer les métiers de la construction et, avec la Southern Christian Leadership Conference, a participé à des démonstrations à Hammermill Paper. Les étudiants ont organisé des dizaines de manifestations contre la guerre du Vietnam. En novembre 2002, 100 étudiants et professeurs une « simulation de funérailles » pour l'esprit d'Oberlin, en réponse au licenciement de 11 travailleurs par l'administration et à la réduction des heures de travail de cinq autres travailleurs sans négociation avec les syndicats des collèges.

En mai 2015, des étudiants ont temporairement pris le contrôle du bâtiment administratif de leur école pour protester contre une augmentation de  USD des frais de scolarité entre les années scolaires 2015 et 2016. 10 931 088 dollars ont été affectés aux salaires de la direction pour l'année scolaire 2013-2014, dont une grande partie provient des frais de scolarité des étudiants.

En décembre 2015, le Black Student Union d'Oberlin a émis une série de 50 demandes spécifiques du collège et du conservatoire, notamment la promotion de certains professeurs noirs à des postes permanents, l'embauche de professeurs noirs, le licenciement d'autres professeurs et l'obtention d'un salaire minimum de 15 $ l'heure pour tous les travailleurs des campus. ainsi que la garantie des soins de santé dans leurs contrats. Le conseil d'administration a réagi en nommant certains membres du corps professoral et en « examinant la répartition des postes de professeurs en tenant compte de la manière dont ils contribueraient à la diversité interactive du programme d'études » dans le plan stratégique 2016-2021 du collège. Le collège s'est opposé à licencier des employés. De nombreux travailleurs sur le campus gagnent toujours le salaire minimum. Plus de 75 étudiants ont protesté contre la tentative du collège de modifier les contrats d'administrateur, d'employé de bureau et de personnel de soutien des bibliothèques lors des négociations du contrat du printemps 2016.

Le 9 novembre 2016, un étudiant d'Oberlin tente de voler du vin au magasin Gibson's Bakery. Cela conduit à une altercation au cours de laquelle l'étudiant et deux autres étudiants ont agressé l'employé. Les étudiants d'Oberlin, appuyés par Meredith Raimondo, l'adjointe spéciale du président « pour l'équité, la diversité et l'inclusion », organisent alors de grandes manifestations appelant au boycott de la boulangerie sous prétexte que le magasin était raciste (l'étudiant du vol à l'étalage était noir). Les jurés ont jugé le collège responsable de diffamation et de « l'infliction d'une détresse émotionnelle » et l'ont condamné à 11 millions de dollars de dommages-intérêts compensatoires et 33 millions de dollars de dommages-intérêts punitifs. Il est probable que le juge réduira ce dernier chiffre à 22 millions de dollars en raison du plafond imposé par l'Ohio à de telles indemnités.

Personnalités liées

Prix Nobel
 Robert Millikan, prix Nobel de physique 1923.
 Roger Wolcott Sperry, prix Nobel de physiologie ou médecine 1981.
 Stanley Cohen, prix Nobel de physiologie ou médecine 1986.

Étudiants

 Mary Church Terrell, une des premières afro-américaines admises,
 Anna J. Cooper, une des trois premières afro-américaines admises,
 Jena Osman, universitaire
 Linda Gregerson, poète et professeur à l'université du Michigan
 Marjorie Perloff,  philosophe, critique d'art, essayiste et universitaire,
 Myung Mi Kim, poète et professeur de littérature
 Christopher Edgar, poète et directeur de publication
 Al Haig, pianiste de jazz.
 Eric Watson, pianiste de jazz.
 Karen O, chanteuse.
 John Wesley Powell, géologue et explorateur.
 Lorenzo Snow, prophète mormon, cinquième président de l'Église de Jésus-Christ des Saints des Derniers Jours.
 William Grant Still, compositeur.
 Thornton Wilder, romancière et dramaturge (Our Town).
 avec la date d'admission
 Antoinette Brown Blackwell 1845, première femme ordonnée pasteur aux États-Unis
 Lucy Stone 1848, féministe et abolitionniste
James McCleery 1859, membre de la Chambre des représentants des États-Unis, brigadier général de l'Union
 Katharine Wright (1874-1929) sœur des frères Wright.
 George Herbert Mead 1883, philosophe, figure de proue du pragmatisme.
 Charles Martin Hall 1885, codécouvreur du processus du procédé électrolytique d'extraction de l'aluminium à partir de l'alumine.
 Robert Millikan 1891, lauréat du prix Nobel de physique 1923 pour sa détermination de la valeur de la charge de l'électron.
 Anna Louise Strong 1905, activiste et auteur.
 Kong Xiangxi 1906, Premier ministre (1938-1939) de la République de Chine.
 Edward Everett Horton 1909, acteur.
 Wendell Willkie 1915, candidat républicain à la présidence en 1940.
 Willard Van Orman Quine 1930, philosophe et logicien.
 Edwin O. Reischauer 1931, ambassadeur au Japon, 1961-1966.
 Roger Wolcott Sperry 1935 et 1937, neurophysiologiste et prix Nobel de physiologie ou médecine en 1981.
 Daniel Kinsey 1935, champion olympique.
 John Kander 1951, théâtre musical.
 John E. Mack 1951, psychologue, auteur.
 William Goldman 1952, romancier (The Princess Bride) et le scénariste oscarisé (Butch Cassidy et le Kid, All the President's Men).
 John Cazale, 1954, acteur (Le Parrain, Voyage au bout de l'enfer).
 David Zinman 1958, directeur musical de l'Orchestre de la Tonhalle de Zurich et du Aspen Music Festival and School.
 John Vinocur 1961, correspondant principal de l'International Herald Tribune.
 Robert Jervis 1962, professeur de Relations internationales à l'université Columbia.
 Alan Furst 1962, romancier.
 Sheldon Wolin, philosophe politique
 James Burrows 1962, producteur et créateur de Cheers et directeur de Will & Grace, Wings, Nouvelles Radio, entre autres séries.
 David Kellogg Lewis, philosophe.
 Robert Kuttner 1965, cofondateur et corédacteur en chef de The American Prospect, l'un des cinq cofondateurs de l'Institut de politique économique.
 Avery Brooks 1970, acteur (American History X, Startrek : Deep Space 9).
 Bill Irwin 1973, acteur de théâtre et films.
 David Halperin 1973, auteur de Cent ans d'homosexualité.
 Richard N. Haass 1973, président du Conseil des relations étrangères et ancien directeur de la planification politique du Département d'État américain.
 Julie Taymor 1974, réalisateur, scénariste.
 Eric Bogosian 1976, romancier, dramaturge.
 Stephen Zunes 1979, professeur de sciences politiques et militant politique.
 Alison Bechdel 1981, bédéiste.
 Charles D'Ambrosio 1982, essayiste, auteur de nouvelles.
 John Carroll 1984, historien.
 Tracy Chevalier 1984, écrivaine spécialisée dans les romans historiques, auteure de La Jeune Fille à la perle.
 George Smith 1987, journaliste d'investigation.
 Liz Phair 1989, compositrice et chanteuse.
 Chris Johnson 1990, cinéaste, photographe.
 John McEntire 1991, batteur.
 Adrian Fenty 1992, maire de Washington.
 Mark Boal 1995) scénariste.
 Daniel London 1995, acteur.
 Gary Shteyngart 1995, romancier.
 Ed Helms 1996, acteur, correspondant du Daily Show''.
 Jon Theodore 1996, ex-batteur de The Mars Volta.
 Jason Molina 1996, chanteur-compositeur.

Galerie

Références

Voir aussi

Articles connexes
 Jean-Frédéric Oberlin
 Jérémie-Jacques Oberlin

Liens externes

 OberWiki

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Publish our family history for future generations to ensure that they understand their rich heritage and the legacy their ancestors left behind.
We commit to work together to strengthen our family units in order to enrich the lives of those who engage with us, whether family or community. This will be achieved by researching our roots, locating and preserving our ancestral homes, and forging new bonds with family members we discover as part of our quest to find each and every member of our AMMO clan.
In all that we do, we strive to maintain our family mantra: Ascending to greatness, Maintained by our ancestors' Spirits, Motivated by Love, and Dedicated to God.


Our range of Salumi Australia cured meats and fermented small goods is an expression of our team, our home and our commitment to preserving the traditional techniques of artisan salumi makers.
Cacciatore meaning hunter, is named for its portability, as Italian hunters would carry this small salami in their backpacks. Remove the casing and slice the original or chilli piccante salami by hand to a 4mm thickness.


Click to OpenArtificial Island Project on Delmarva PeninsulaThe PSC has received two CPCN applications for new and modified transmission line projects, both from Delmarva Power since early 2014.
Church to Steele is a rebuild of an existing 138 kV transmission line from the Church Substation in Queen Anne's County to the Steele Substation in Caroline County. The Church to Steele project received CPCN approval from the PSC in 2015.
Piney Grove to State Line is a new 138 kV line of about 25 miles in Maryland. It begins at the Piney Grove Substation in Wicomico County and terminates at the Maryland/Delaware state line. The entire project extends to the Wattsville Substation in Virginia. PPRP has completed its review of the portion in Maryland; the PSC issued a Proposed Order on August 18, 2016 giving Delmarva Power its CPCN for the project.
Transmission planning and regulatory drivers, as well as oversight, are described in Section 3.3.
The Delmarva Peninsula, consisting of Maryland's Eastern Shore, Delaware, and a portion of Virginia, experiences high congestion costs due to the isolation of the transmission system. As noted in the figure below, the entire Delmarva Peninsula relies upon a transmission interconnection at the northern part of the Peninsula in Delaware. The lack of transmission interconnection points elsewhere on the Peninsula causes increased transmission congestion. While projects, such as the Mid-Atlantic Power Pathway (MAPP), have been proposed in the past, none have come to fruition.
Instead, reliability improvements in surrounding areas, such as Central Maryland, serve to strengthen reliability on the Peninsula and reduce outage risk until the need for another transmission interconnection point to allow additional imported power onto the Peninsula is identified. One project, the Artificial Island project, proposes the construction of a new underwater 230 kV transmission tie from the Salem and Hope Creek nuclear power plants in New Jersey to the western side of the Delaware Bay. This project, if it proceeds, is expected to address stability issues at the plants while increasing their generation output; however, PJM recently put the project on hold to allow further evaluation.The second proposed project is the construction of a pair of 230 kV transmission lines, one from Pennsylvania to a BGE-owned substation in Central Maryland and the second from Pennsylvania to a PE-owned substation north of Hagerstown. Although neither of these projects are located within Maryland's Eastern Shore, each would provide stability to the transmission system that supports the Delmarva Peninsula's transmission lines and would assist in mitigating power outages.
Source: "PJM Staff Picks LS Power for Artificial Island Stability Fix; Dominion Loses Out," Herel, Suzanne, April 28, 2015, RTO Insider, http://www.rtoinsider.com/pjm-ls-power-artificial-island-14775/.


Recipe by Maurizio of Marche Food Ltd.
Melt the butter in a pan, add the pancetta and garlic and cook until the garlic turns brown. Remove and discard the garlic. Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti in a large pan of salted, boiling water until al dente, then drain and add to the pancetta. Remove the pan from the heat, pour in the eggs, add half the Parmesan and half the Pecorino and season with pepper. Mix well so that the egg coats the pasta. Add the remaining cheese, mix again and serve.


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Q: gridview to formview - formview not showing any data I have a gridview where, if you select a row, it takes you to a formview where you can view details from that entry and edit the data.  This worked when I had only one filter parameter, but I added another, and now the formview is showing up blank.  Here's my code:
<asp:AccessDataSource ID="courseinfo" runat="server" DataFile="~/App_Data/courseinfo.mdb" SelectCommand="SELECT [prefix], [course_number], [title], [date_submitted] FROM [tableCourse]">
</asp:AccessDataSource>

<asp:AccessDataSource ID="courseinfo2" runat="server" DataFile="~/App_Data/courseinfo.mdb" FilterExpression="prefix='{0}' AND course_number='{1}'" SelectCommand="SELECT * FROM [tableCourse]">
 <FilterParameters>
  <asp:ControlParameter Name="prefix" ControlID="GridView1" PropertyName="SelectedValue" />
  <asp:ControlParameter Name="course_number" ControlID="GridView1" PropertyName="SelectedValue" />
 </FilterParameters>
</asp:AccessDataSource>

<asp:GridView ID="GridView1" runat="server" DataSourceID="courseinfo" DataKeyNames="prefix,course_number"
                    OnSelectedIndexChanged="GridView1_SelectedIndexChanged" AutoGenerateColumns="False"
                    CellPadding="8" ForeColor="#333333" GridLines="vertical" BorderWidth="1" BorderColor="#dddddd"
                    AllowPaging="true" AllowSorting="true" AutoGenerateSelectButton="true">
                    <RowStyle BackColor="#eeeeee" />
                    <Columns>
                        <asp:BoundField DataField="prefix" HeaderText="prefix" SortExpression="prefix" />
                        <asp:BoundField DataField="course_number" HeaderText="number" SortExpression="course_number" />
                        <asp:BoundField DataField="title" HeaderText="title" SortExpression="title" />
                        <asp:BoundField DataField="date_submitted" HeaderText="date submitted" SortExpression="date_submitted" />
                    </Columns>
                    <FooterStyle BackColor="black" Font-Bold="True" ForeColor="White" />
                    <PagerStyle BackColor="black" ForeColor="White" HorizontalAlign="Center" />
                    <SelectedRowStyle BackColor="#c0c0e0" Font-Bold="True" ForeColor="#333333" />
                    <HeaderStyle BackColor="#000000" Font-Bold="True" ForeColor="#eeeeee" />
                    <EditRowStyle BackColor="#2461BF" />
                    <AlternatingRowStyle BackColor="White" />
                </asp:GridView>

<asp:FormView ID="FormView1" runat="server" DefaultMode="Edit" DataSourceID="courseinfo2"
                DataKeyNames="prefix,course_number" Width="100%">

Of course the formview is complete but it contains a lot of code so I didn't include that here, although if anyone wants to see it, I can post it.

A: You can change your control parameters as follows reason being since you have multiple datakeynames, you cant have selected value as property of both. This should work however:
    <asp:ControlParameter Name="prefix" ControlID="GridView1" PropertyName="SelectedDataKey.Values[prefix]" Type="String"  />
    <asp:ControlParameter Name="course_number" ControlID="GridView1" PropertyName="SelectedDataKey.Values[course_number]" Type="Int32" />

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


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Home » News & Information » Frontlines » Climate Change/Science & Technology » Ed Carr: Geographer on the Vanguard
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Anthony Bebbington
Ed Carr is one of a new generation of scholars addressing the relationships among development, environment, and society in Africa and who are currently carving out what will be agendas for research over the next 15 years or so.
Like many geographers working in international development, Ed Carr is skilled in a range of disciplines, worrying deeply about the relationship between science and society—or, as it might be phrased by the development community – between the research world that academics inhabit and "the real world" with which development practitioners contend.
Carr's academic background is telling: he holds bachelor's degrees in English, archaeology and American studies, a master's degree in anthropology, and no less than two PhDs—one in anthropology, the other in geography.
And he's all of 38.
A University of South Carolina associate professor, since 2010 Carr has been an American Association for the Advancement of Science Fellow at USAID, and is the climate change coordinator in the Bureau for Democracy, Conflict and Humanitarian Assistance.
In his discipline, Carr is one of a new generation of scholars addressing the relationships among development, environment, and society in Africa and who are currently carving out what will be agendas for research over the next 15 years or so.
Compared with earlier generations, these younger scholars are theoretically catholic (though not chaotic), constructively critical, and above all interested in exploring new interfaces: between development and health, livelihoods and ecosystems, environmental history and land use, development and the human dimensions of global change, among others.
These are scholars who not only believe that statistics, ethnographic insight, cartographic visualization, and historical analysis are equally valid methodological choices—they also practice their beliefs, and combine these approaches in their work. In a similar spirit, they resist efforts to separate nature and society as independent domains of inquiry and action, insisting instead that each are present in almost alldevelopment problems, that environmental questions cannot be asked without also including social analysis, and that, likewise, socio-economic questions can rarely be addressed separately from the environment. And all the while they tack back and forth between theory and practice.
Carr is very much at the vanguard of this group of geographers.
At the core of his research has been an interest in how local populations adapt to shifting economic and environmental conditions. He has conducted research in Ghana, Malawi, and countries in southern Africa. In its earlier years, Carr's research sought to understand how far people's livelihoods—which combine farming, off-farm income, migration and other ways of getting by—are adequate for dealing with the uncertainties of shifting prices, employment insecurity, volatile and changing climate, nature's surprises, social and armed conflict, and more.
Among the many contributions of this work, one of the most important has been to show how socio-economic and gendered inequalities are often built into the way people get by (so while one family adapts to uncertainty, this might be at the cost of another family's ability to do the same or of women's ability to control their own labor and their own bodies). If this is so, he suggests, that external agencies should be cautious before celebrating local strategies: They may well be founded on forms of inequity and domination against which most who work in development seek to struggle.
Over time, Carr has used this strong foundation in field-based research—including two years living and working in rural Africa—to make links with policy and the work of other applied researchers. He has sought to link his own very on-the-ground research on livelihoods to the work of scientists trying to develop models of regional climate or land use change. The goal is to try to develop more realistic and accurate predictions of how livelihoods and resources will be affected by climate, and, on that basis, to elaborate more viable adaptation strategies. He has also worked closely with biophysical scientists to understand the relationships between livelihood and forest dynamics.
This work does not simply sit on the shelves of academic institutions. Indeed, Carr has been very active in linking his research to high-level policy initiatives. He has served as lead author on two influential global environmental publications and is currently review editor for a third.
Sitting at this interface of practice and theory, research and engagement, Ed Carr's work is very important. It will continue to energize our discipline of geography, helping keep it relevant. And it will bring theoretical and field-based insight to the world of practice in ways that will help keep that work both critical and honest.
Anthony Bebbington is director of the Graduate School of Geography, and Higgins professor of environment and society at Clark University.
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Jim Graffam, Cenduit's VP of Quality Assurance, provides insights into the world of auditing and how to use technology to streamline the auditing process and improve the auditor experience.
Lex Raleigh: Welcome back to Cenduit Quickcasts. I'm your host, Lex Raleigh. My guest today is Cenduit's head of quality, Jim Graffam. Welcome to the program, Jim.
Jim Graffam: Hi Lex. Pleasure to be here.
Lex Raleigh: Thanks. One of the things that I wanted to start off with talking about is something that, for folks new to auditing or quality assurance, is the difference between practice and process. I know you and I have chatted about it a lot with R&D on the projects that we do, but can you say a few words about what is process, how it differs from practice, and why that difference is important?
Jim Graffam: Sure. Practice is where you reside in the day to day. That's the "how" you're going to execute against. In fact, it may be a practice of executing against a process, but it's everything that goes into getting the job done. The process of the controls, the process is the things that you have to do, the flows that you need to follow, that will assure a reliable outcome. As you know, here at Cenduit, we have a global quality system that's built up off of years of focus and centralization in the IRT industry. Those processes are there for a reason. They're there so that we can develop an IRT solution, allowing for a certain level of customization for any client that may come in, but also to keep us within the bounds of regulations, industry expectations, and individual client expectations based on their specifications.
How this relates to the audit experience is very, very, very important. An audit is to come in and observe. You have theses processes, now show me ... I can read them, and they're documented and that's great; now I want to look at some examples of how you actually follow your process, so it's a really big difference. The process elements are the direct observables and the things that are most important from an audit outcome.
Lex Raleigh: Okay. Do you think it's fair to say that a process is a documented practice, or is that an oversimplification of it?
Jim Graffam: It absolutely is, but the reverse can also be true. Your practice should be to follow a documented process to a large extent. I happen to know you're learned in the martial arts, as am I. Both of us started off as white belts once upon a time and we practiced, we trained, but there were certain things, there were certain katas, there were certain elements that were written down that we had to follow in order to be able to learn to demonstrate our basics in order to go up through the ranks and eventually to become the specialist in, to become a black belt, to have a level of expertise. That came because you practiced and applied your basics into a structured form. That's the analogy towards process.
Lex Raleigh: Great. I really like that analogy, too, because it really speaks to the evolution, but then also the interplay between the practice and the process. As your practice evolves, the process could evolve as well. The goal is to make sure they're in sync.
Jim Graffam: Neither grows too far beyond the other. It's a very symbiotic relationship there.
Lex Raleigh: One of the things I like about that, as well, is that speaking to the evolution, which we're going to come now to auditing. Tell me about what the audit process is about. Does it have anything to do with practice and process, and what are the auditors looking for in this?
Jim Graffam: It has everything to do with practice and process. Let's take a step back and talk about what an audit is. An audit is an examination of your documented structure, documented evidence of your general capabilities. An external auditor may come to us from a client. Ideally they want to do business with us. They will come in and they'll want to know and have a high degree of confidence that we can do the job that they're going to ask us to do. They want to look at, what's your qualification to do your job? They're going to want to look at your background, your training, what training you had before you came here, what your job description is, and really begin to see that it's not just a suggestion of a capability. It's credible capability based on everything that I've come in for the last few days and been able to witness.
An audit may be a sponsor coming back in. They've given us work. We said that we were going to be able to do all these great and wonderful things. Now they want to come back and see that, Did you actually do it? Did you actually follow the process that you spoke so highly of when we visited you the first time? Did you execute it? Did you execute it with quality? They may be coming in to look at one, two, or more studies at a time, bringing in one, two, three, four auditors. They can vary in size, shape, and color.
Lex Raleigh: Right. That's great, too. That sort of explains to me why ... I've been here for a few years and I've seen the same companies come back. That sort of answers the question that, Why would a company come back and audit us again, either every year, every other year? As you're saying, they're looking for consistency. They're looking at, as our practices and processes evolve, have our documentation sets evolved with them, or are we still maintaining that quality?
Jim Graffam: Absolutely, and they have their processes as well. There may be several things that they need to do to qualify us for use to begin with. As we go and start talking about how important the audit experience is, it's important to recognize that any chance to be in front of the client and to demonstrate your expertise, to demonstrate how specialized you are, is a tremendous opportunity.
Lex Raleigh: Jim, let me play devil's advocate for a second. We've got an auditor, one of our clients, coming back to see us again. How is this not going to be a painful process for them? They're going to go through a mountain of documents. Is this going to be fun for the auditor, or are they going to be waiting anxiously to get done with it and get on with their business?
Jim Graffam: A lot of times, this is their role. They are practiced; they are trained in going into somebody else's company, spending two or three days, so yes. It can absolutely be a painful experience if they're not provided the information that they need in the time frame that they need it. Spending two to three days reviewing documentation, it's not always the most exciting job in the world. There's a certain level of expertise and a certain level of patience that a person must have to go from one company to another company to another company. You definitely have to respect the expertise of the person sitting across the table from you coming in. You want to make that as easy an experience as you can. All they want to do is see that we have the capabilities to do something, or that we did exactly what we said we were going to do.
Lex Raleigh: How are we making it easy for the auditors to achieve this in what's a remarkably short period of time, as you mentioned, coming in and learning who we are and what we're doing and then evaluating against that in just a day or two?
Jim Graffam: My practice in hosting audits is to give them absolutely everything that they might need and allow them to filter based on where their interests are and what direction they want to take. Sometimes you'll have a spoon feeding effect, where, okay, you want to see this document? I will give you this document. I'm much more of the practice of, here's our entire global quality system. We've done something very interesting in the last six to nine months that has gotten some tremendous reviews by the auditors that have come here. We've technologically enabled our audits. We are now using iPads exclusively as reading stations for any audit that we hold. An auditor will come in, or one or two or three or more, and waiting for them is a reading station.
There's an iPad sitting there waiting for them. It has a nice little welcome screen customized for them as well as the key to the guest wireless. Give them a chance to get comfortable, have some coffee, and alongside with the great technological implementation, hard copies all ready, stuff that they can take home, stuff that they can put in their audit report, stuff that they can write on so they don't have to make notes at every last thing that we covered during the opening presentation. We have a global quality system. All of our processes, all of our procedures, all of our work instructions, all of our forms and templates, everything's pre-populated on them and it's the exact same content that's pushed to all the iPads being supported in the room. They will be able to see everything at their fingertips. They'll be able to open up multiple windows. They'll be able to, using multi-gesturing, switch between documents right there without having to share and audit binder. Everybody can look at the same content at the same time and do it in a fast manner.
Lex Raleigh: Right. That sounds like a great enabler, so you're really streamlining the process of the auditors coming in and having access to everything they need in a format that's quick and convenient. Is the benefit, then, that they get up to speed quicker, ask more relevant questions? What else would be a benefit of that?
Jim Graffam: Absolutely. The feedback we've received, speed is a big thing. The ability to get through as much as they want to and having the option to pick and choose what they look at. Let's look at the case of a surveillance audit, an audit where they're coming back in to see that we've performed as we said we would perform. We built one or more studies for them. They come in, we push the entire study onto the iPad. You name it, it's there for everybody to look at. Complete transparency. Pushing something onto an iPad is quick. Why wait?
Lex Raleigh: Right. It sounds like a great improvement and, Jim, I'll give you credit that you almost made me want to be an auditor, making it sound so quick and easy. Not quite, though.
Jim Graffam: Almost. I can understand that.
Lex: You're very good at what you do.
Jim: We appreciate R&D supporting the audits as you always do.
Lex: Well, it's been my pleasure to be a part of that. Jim, I really appreciate you coming out today. It's been great. Always a pleasure talking to you and your insights are always interesting. Jim, thanks for taking the time today.
Jim: No, thank you. Any opportunity to demonstrate really the level of pride that we have in facilitating the audit experience is a great opportunity, so thank you for having me.
Lex: My pleasure. Thank you all for listening. I'm Lex Raleigh. See you next time.


As part of The Seventy Four's mission to lead an honest, fact-based debate about K-12 education, we encourage everyone — from lawmakers to teachers to parents to students — to join our conversation.
This is why we love hearing from our readers, and will regularly publish your input (You can always reach us here). We received a number of letters that were insightful, provocative and made excellent points. Below are a handful from our inbox.
Matt Barnum's essay has some […] problems. While the large growth in achievement in students from poorer neighborhoods is admirable, to compare it to lower growth in more affluent neighborhoods defies psychometric knowledge about testing.
Most other countries in the world have common standards. Measurement of these standards often starts as early as 5th grade. I was educated in India for the most part. When administered correctly the "common standards" work beyond reasonable doubt.
As the parent of a rising 5th grader, we abandoned "the sinking ship" of public education after 2nd grade. We are blessed to live in what is considered "the best elementary school zone" in our community; and indeed the majority of teachers and staff at the public school were dedicated and hardworking.
At a public school, there are too many stakeholders in the mix; local school board, local teacher's union, state board of education, national teachers union, and the U.S. Department of Education. Ultimately, the interests of all these groups are paramount to what should be at the top of the list; providing an educational environment where each and every child can become a successful learner. Teachers must have the best curriculum/materials available, and the discretion and autonomy to TEACH, and not just robotically churn out the Common Core Standards, and expect students to regurgitate them.
Check out our latest essays and columns, and be sure to sign up for The Seventy Four newsletter at the bottom of our homepage.


The US is so enamored of its role as sole world superpower that it thinks nothing of mistreating allies, never believing they might tire of the abuse and run away – into the arms of China, or – perish the thought – Russia.
The Trump administration has never met a failed policy it wouldn't embrace, from attempting to ignite a color revolution in Iran (after stamping out actual democracy there half a century ago), to throwing good money after bad in the two-decade-long quagmire of Afghanistan. With a stranglehold on the world's reserve currency, even the most expensive mistakes – and at $22 trillion in debt, a lot have been made – have largely theoretical consequences, and just as Wall Street is able to outsource risk to Main Street, the US can sleep well at night knowing the fallout of its bad decisions is unfolding largely outside its borders.
Bristling with nuclear enthusiasm after throwing aside the INF with a Strangelovian flourish, promising to take its bloated and over-equipped military to space "the better to menace you with," brutalizing even its own citizens both physically and psychologically with constant surveillance, and wielding punitive sanctions against putative allies for daring to defy its petty economic vendettas, the US is the geopolitical equivalent of an abusive romantic partner. And its allies are finally waking up to the realization that perhaps it's time to break things off.
The biggest indignity yet was the ludicrous demand that NATO allies pay to host the American troops permanently garrisoned there – to essentially bankroll their own occupations. Last week, it was reported the US would begin asking some of its most hospitable allies – those nations home to hundreds of thousands of soldiers – to foot the bill for the cost of keeping them "safe." While the cost breakdown hasn't been decided yet, it may include the actual salaries of the soldiers stationed there – which would make the "quartering" policy that helped set off the American Revolution look positively civilized in comparison. Over two-thirds of the residents of Okinawa, where the US wants to relocate a military base, voted against the plan in a referendum last month. Construction is going ahead anyway. With allies like these, who needs enemies?
Adding insult to this financial injury, those countries whose policies "align closely" with the US would get an unspecified "discount" on their occupation bill – while those countries who didn't play ball would, presumably, face the prospect of hundreds of thousands of disgruntled, well-armed American troops on their soil. "Gee, that's a nice country you got there. Would be a real shame if something happened to it." The US has been accused of acting like a mafia state before, but prior to Trump, its leaders seldom embraced the designation with such zest. One has to respect his honesty, at least – as Ilhan Omar said (and then quickly tried to un-say), Barack Obama's policies were almost indistinguishable, except they were delivered by a pretty face, with a smile capable of speaking in complete sentences.
And where would an abusive relationship be without gaslighting? The US insists, to all who will listen, that its puppet Juan Guaido is recognized the world over as the legitimate ruler of Venezuela, even though no more than 54 countries have fallen in line behind his self-appointed leadership. Even the mainstream US media – hardly a pack of truth-tellers – has come under attack by Sen. Marco Rubio, who accused CNN of Russian collusion for referring to Guaido as the "self-proclaimed" president of Venezuela. Not to be outdone, Abrams has threatened second-order sanctions against those nations that refuse to declare 2 + 2 = 5 and embrace the unelected frontman for another good old-fashioned South American resource-grab. Never mind international law – second-order sanctions are not, in fact, a thing – but almost three-quarters of the UN still backs Nicolas Maduro, the elected President of Venezuela.
Like any abusive partner, the US is wildly jealous. Germany is the primary target of its covetous rages, courted as it is both by Russia, with the Nord Stream 2 pipeline, and China, whose Huawei is currently in talks to build 5G wireless infrastructure. Huawei has even opened a "cybersecurity and transparency center" in Brussels in a bid to sway the whole EU into acknowledging its technological superiority, even as the US attempts to jail the company's CFO and ban its products across the western world. So far, this is a battle the US is losing, despite their efforts to convince allies that Huawei is secretly a Chinese spy plot – concerns Berlin perhaps feels justified in ignoring since learning that US intelligence spent over a decade listening in on Chancellor Angela Merkel's phone calls – so on Monday they upped the ante, issuing an ultimatum to Berlin that should they scorn the wishes of the world's only superpower, the US would no longer be able to cooperate with German security agencies. Officially, this is because of the risk of Chinese backdoors built into the equipment. Realistically, this is the behavior of a petty, jealous lover. Germany can do so much better. So can the rest of the world.
Helen Buyniski is a journalist and photographer based in New York City. Her work has appeared on RT, Progressive Radio Network, and Veterans Today. Helen has a BA in Journalism from New School University and also studied at Columbia University and New York University. Find more of her work at http://www.helenofdestroy.com and http://medium.com/@helen.buyniski. She is a frequent contributor to Global Research.


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Tag Archives: Burt Hatlan
Only Death Can Keep You From the Finish Line by Bev Vincent
March 25, 2015 Bev Vincent	Historical Context Essays
In an endnote in the chapter about The Stand in The Art of Darkness, Douglas E. Winter mentions a dystopian novel called The Long Walk "which owes much to Stephen King." Was this an inside joke between King and Winter, who had interviewed King extensively for the book, or an astute observation on Winter's part? Winter does talk about The Long Walk briefly in The Art of Darkness as one of King's early novels, but without identifying the book by name.
King wrote The Long Walk in the fall of 1966 and the spring of 1967 when he was a freshman at the University of Maine. The story was inspired by a series of 50-mile hikes throughout the country that were sponsored by radio and TV stations. King didn't have a car at the time and the idea for the story occurred to him while he was hitchhiking back home one night. "I was hitchhiking everywhere," he says on his website. "I didn't finish my 50-mile hike, though. I fell out after 20 miles." » Read more
9 comments	Bill Thompson, Burt Hatlan, Carrie, Carroll Terrell, Richard Bachman, Shirley Jackson, Sword in the Darkness, The Dead Zone, The Long Walk, The Stand