text:
\section{Introduction}
\label{sec:intro}
Modern face classifiers based on deep learning methods leverage large datasets to learn the essential features that make each face unique and are able to achieve high-performance on the recognition task, even outperforming human capabilities \cite{Taigman2014}.
However, in presence of occlusions, like masks, glasses, hair, or even food, face classifiers struggle \cite{Ekenel2009, Zeng2020}.

Face detection is the first step for recognition, the general case approaches consist of using rigid templates, \emph{e.g.}, the Viola-Jones face detector \cite{Viola2001}; deformable part models (DPM) \cite{Yan2014}; and deep learning models, like the Sigle-Shot Mutibox Detector (SSD) \cite{Liu2016}, for example.
When extremely large datasets \cite{Yang2016} are used to train deep learning methods, those are able to detect occluded faces \cite{Zhang2020}, still there are other approaches specialized in detection of faces under occlusion.
Those methods are commonly tested over the masked faces in the wild (MAFA) dataset \cite{Ge2017} and employ strategies such as locating visible facial segments to estimate the face \cite{Yang2018}, fusing detection results obtained from face sub-regions \cite{Mahbub2016}, or considering occluded faces as a particular single-class object detection problem \cite{Opitz2016}.

Usually the approaches to solve occluded face recognition (OFR) can be divided into three categories \cite{Zeng2020}:
\begin{enumerate}
    \item In occlusion-robust feature extraction approaches, the aim is to extract features that are less affected by occlusions, while preserving the discriminative capability.
    Feature extraction can be performed by engineered-based methods, such as local binary patterns (LBP) \cite{Ahonen2004}, and scale-invariant feature transform (SIFT) descriptors \cite{Lowe1999}, or by learning-based methods, in which deep convolution neural networks (CNN) approaches stand out by performing the training with augmented occluded faces and
    reducing the spatial support for a more
    local feature extraction \cite{Osherov2017}.
    \item In occlusion-aware face recognition, the idea is to exclude the occlusion area, such that only part of the face is used for the classification task \cite{Wan2017,Song2019}.
    \item Finally, there are occlusion-recovery-based approaches that try to solve the occlusion problem in the image space by completing the occluded area.
    Again, deep learning techniques stand out either when explicitly addressing de-occlusion of faces \cite{Zhao2018,Li20}, or when used for blind inpainting through generative models employing variational autoencoders (VAE) \cite{Kingma2013}, generative adversarial networks (GAN) \cite{Goodfellow2014, He2019, Ge2020}, and partial convolutions \cite{Liu2018}.
\end{enumerate}

We used a dataset formed by images containing only aligned faces, such that face detection was not needed.
Our focus is thus on the classification part of an OFR system.
We employed data-driven approaches to present an occlusion-robust classifier leveraging robust feature extraction, and a recovery-based strategy for image completion for the occluded face classification.
The tested occlusions were artificially added to the images utilizing binary masks and filling-in with a mid grey color.

Besides the benchmarks achieved in this paper, our contribution also comprises the resulting publicly available datasets with different kinds of synthetic occlusions and their inpainted counterparts.
To the best of our knowledge, this group of datasets is quite unique in the literature and surely can be helpful to facilitate and promote research on the field.

\section{Datasets}
\label{sec:datasets}
\subsection{CelebA-HQ}
\label{sec:celeba-hq}
\begin{figure*}[ht]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\textwidth]{Figs/celeba_hq.pdf}
    \caption{Examples of the CelebA-HQ dataset.}
    \label{fig:celeba_hq}
\end{figure*}

To avoid the need for face detection and to concentrate our efforts in the classification task, we choose the CelebFaces Attributes Dataset (CelebA) \cite{Liu2015}.
More specifically, we utilized the aligned and cropped version pre-processed for super-resolution at 1024-by-1024 pixels, also known as the CelebA-HQ dataset comprising of 30,000 images \cite{Karras2018, CelebA-HQ}.
In the CelebA-HQ dataset, the number of images is not equally divided among classes, so we worked only with a subset of it, in which each class (or person) appears, at least, in 15 images.
Thus, the dataset was reduced from 30,000 to 5,478 images of center-aligned faces from 307 celebrities.

The dataset was randomly divided into three fixed sets: a training set (3,943 images), with at least 10 images of each class; a validation set (921 images), with 3 images of each class; and a test set (614 images), with 2 images of each class.
Figure \ref{fig:celeba_hq} depicts examples of the dataset.
Looking through the images we noticed some characteristics worth mentioning:
\begin{enumerate}[i)]
    \item Although most of the pictures are front-facing, there is some pose variation;
    \item There are some faces with natural occlusions (hair, hats, glasses, hands, microphone);
    \item There are some images with distorted background;
    \item The dataset is not well-balanced, blond white women are the majority;
    \item Celebrities tend to change a lot their appearance, making the classification task harder.
\end{enumerate}

\subsection{Synthetic occlusions}
\label{sec:synth_occlusions}
To simulate occlusions we defined 8 binary masks to account for different parts of the face, as depicted in Figure \ref{fig:masks} and discussed below.

\begin{figure}[ht]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\columnwidth]{Figs/masks.pdf}
    \caption{Binary masks used to simulate occlusions (white pixels).}
    \label{fig:masks}
\end{figure}

\begin{itemize}
\item Masks 1 and 2 represent minor occlusions, removing only one eye (left or right eyes are occluded randomly) or the nose, respectively.
\item Mask 3 simulates occlusions caused by surgical masks, which, nowadays, became a quite common occlusion artifact.
\item Mask 4 occludes both eyes and most of the hair, which is a typical occlusion used to anonymize identity.
\item Mask 5 occludes one entire side of the face to simulate occlusion by pose variation (the side of the occlusion is randomly chosen).
\item Mask 6 simulates occlusion by watermarking or by some degradation in the picture.
\item Masks 7 and 8 are the control group, with the former isolating the face and occluding only the background, where minimal interference in detection is expected, while the latter completely occludes the face and correct matches are only expected by chance.
\end{itemize}

Each of the occlusions were applied only to the test dataset, thus resulting in eight new test sets.
The occluded areas were filled-in with a mid grey color.
Figure \ref{fig:datasets_w_occlusions} depicts one example of each such datasets.

\begin{figure}[ht]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\columnwidth]{Figs/datasets_w_occlusions.pdf}
    \caption{Examples of the eight resulting test datasets with occlusions.}
    \label{fig:datasets_w_occlusions}
\end{figure}

\subsection{Inpainting}
\label{sec:inpainting}
Inpainting, or image completion, is the process of reconstructing the missing parts of an image.
The inpainted region should have semantic cohesion with the overall scene, continuity around the edges, and fill-in visually realistic content.
It is quite subjective since there is no prior knowledge about missing parts, and many completions may appear correct but may modify cues that may be very relevant for a person's identity.

There are many approaches for solving inpainting problems, as mentioned in Section \ref{sec:intro}.
For this paper we choose to use the pluralistic image completion (PICNet) \cite{Zheng2019}.
It is a probabilistically principled framework, which during training, uses the original image $I_{gt}=\{I_m,~I_c\}$, a degraded version $I_m$ (the masked partial image), and $I_c$ its complement partial image, to generate inpainted versions to $I_m$ by sampling from $p(I_c|I_m)$.

The PICNet is implemented with two parallel paths, as illustrated in Figure \ref{fig:picnet}.
The upper path is the reconstructive pipeline (red lines), which utilizes $I_c$ to infer the importance function $q_{\psi}(\textbf{z}_c|I_c)$ during training.
Using the sampled latent vector $\textbf{z}_c$ and the conditional feature $\textbf{f}_m$, which encodes the information of the visible regions from $I_m$, there is enough information to train the decoder to reconstruct the original image $I_g$.

\begin{figure*}[hbt]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=.7\textwidth]{Figs/picnet.pdf}
    \caption{Simplified diagram of the architecture of the PICNet \cite{Zheng2019}.}
    \label{fig:picnet}
\end{figure*}

The lower path is the generative pipeline (blue lines), which only uses $I_m$ to infer the conditional prior $p_{\phi}(\textbf{z}_c|I_m)$ of the holes.
In this case the sampled latent vector $\tilde{\textbf{z}}_c$ is not accurate enough to reconstruct the whole image, thus the decoder targets to reconstruct only the visible regions $I_m$, using $\textbf{f}_m$.
Both paths are supported by GANs, to ensure that the synthesized data fit in with the training set distribution, leading to higher-quality images.
Additionally, there is a short+long term attention layer that exploits distant relations among decoder and encoder features, improving appearance consistency.
Both representation and generation networks share the exact same weights, and testing is performed only in the generative path, with $\tilde{I}_{\emph{gen}}$ the inpainted output.

In our evaluations, we used a model trained on the CelebA-HQ dataset using random occlusion masks \cite{Zheng2019}.
Figure \ref{fig:inpainting_datasets} shows some examples of the inpaintings produced by PICNet.

\begin{figure}[bt]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\columnwidth]{Figs/inpainting_datasets.pdf}
    \caption{Examples of inpainting using PICNet (original-masked-inpainted). The reconstruction of images in the first row is quite faithful to the original images. Images in the second row have a high-quality reconstruction, although quite different from its original counterpart. The last two rows show
    cases that can be considered as failure, as PICNet introduced unexpected artefacts and distorted faces.
    }
    \label{fig:inpainting_datasets}
\end{figure}

Although the PICNet is able to generate multiple and diverse plausible solutions for image completion, the inpainted datasets were created using only one solution for each image.

\section{Face classification}
\label{sec:face_classification}
\subsection{Regular Classifier}
\label{sec:regular_classifier}

For the face classification task we chose to use a ResNet \cite{He2016} architecture.
Since the chosen dataset did not provide many images from each class (15 up to 28 images for each person), data augmentation was performed.
We performed data augmentation by applying random variations of the input data for the training set images, such that the images became different, but their meaning is unchanged. These include flipping, rotation, zooming, warping, and lighting transformations.

We started training our classifier with pre-trained ResNets from \texttt{fastai}  \cite{Howard2020}, trained on ImageNet \cite{ImageNet}.
Pre-trained weights make for a better initialization than random weights, since the layers are already suited to extract meaningful features for image classification.
A cross entropy loss function with flattened input was used to compare predictions and targets.
To define the size of the network, we trained ResNets with 18, 34, 50, and 101 layers.
The training for all those networks was performed using 1 frozen epoch and 25 unfrozen ones.
The learning rate was scheduled using cosine annealing and momentum \cite{Smith2019}, with its maximum at $\lambda=5\cdot10^{-3}$, found using the technique from Leslie Smith \cite{Smith2017}.
The results for the validation and test sets are shown in Table \ref{tab:resnets}.
For the regular classifier and for the experiments in the remaining of this paper, we chose to use the ResNet101, since it provided the lowest error rate in the test set. Since the purpose of the experiments in this section was to establish the baseline method that uses non-occluded faces and to decide the architecture to be used for comparison, it was fair to use the test set in this decision. In the remainder of this paper, any hyper-parameter tuning was done based on the validation set.

\begin{table}[htb]
    \centering
    \caption{Baselines error rates for different ResNet depths considering the test set without occlusions.}
    \label{tab:resnets}
    \begin{tabular}{@{}lccc@{}}
        \toprule
        \multirow{2}{*}{Architecture} & \multirow{2}{*}{Validation error} & \multicolumn{2}{c}{Test error}     \\ \cmidrule(l){3-4}
                            &                                   & Top-1            & Top-5           \\ \midrule
        ResNet18          & 25.52\%                           & 23.94\%          & 11.07\%         \\
        ResNet34          & 22.37\%                           & 23.62\%          & 10.10\%         \\
        ResNet50          & \textbf{19.00\%}                  & 20.52\%          & 8.47\%          \\
        ResNet101         & 19.98\%                           & \textbf{17.91\%} & \textbf{7.00\%} \\ \bottomrule
    \end{tabular}
\end{table}
\subsection{Robust Classifier}
\label{sec:robust_classifier}
To train the robust classifier we added the Cutmix \cite{Yun2019} approach as a regularization strategy.
The idea of this method is to cut and paste rectangle patches among training images, where the labels are also mixed proportionally to the area of the patches.
This approach prevents the CNN from focusing too much on a small set of intermediate activations or on a small region of input images, which improves generalization and localization by forcing the model to attend to the entire object.
Also, since the patches are formed by other images from the dataset and the ground truth labels are also mixed, this approach further enhances localization ability by requiring the model to identify the object from a partial view.
Therefore, Cutmix adds exactly the kind of robustness desired for classifying images under occlusion.
Figure \ref{fig:data_aug} illustrates the data augmentation strategies applied in the training images.

\begin{figure}[htb]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\columnwidth]{Figs/data_aug.pdf}
    \caption{Examples of data augmentation. (a) Original image. (b) Output of data augmentation transforms. (c) Cutmix, notice the label in this case is a mixture of the two images. }
    \label{fig:data_aug}
\end{figure}

Training with Cutmix is considerably slower, since it becomes harder for the model to learn from the mixed examples. This is the case for any method that deals with noisy labels~\cite{cordeiro2020tutorial}.
The training was performed the same way as before, using the transfer learning procedure and learning rate schedule, but this time we had to train the model for 70 unfrozen epochs to reach a validation error of \textbf{19.00\%}. The obtained model reaches top-1 and top-5 test errors of \textbf{17.42\%} and \textbf{7.98\%}, respectively. As expected, this is a little bit better than the original method, but the obtained network should have higher generalization power.
\section{Performance assessment and analysis}
\label{seq:analysis}
\subsection{Experiment setup}
\label{sec:setup}
In order to check how the occlusions affect the classification task we use as baselines the results obtained in Section \ref{sec:face_classification} for the top-1 error over the test set without occlusions: 17.91\% and 17.42\%, respectively for the regular and for the robust classifiers.
Then, we check, for each of the test sets with occlusions, how the classifiers perform.
Finally, we compare these results with the classification error rates for the inpainted datasets.

\subsection{Results}
\label{sec:results}
\begin{figure}[ht]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[width=\columnwidth]{Figs/results.pdf}
    \caption{Performance of the two classifiers over different occlusions and inpaintings. Top: ResNet101 regular training. Bottom: ResNet101 with Cutmix.}
    \label{fig:results}
\end{figure}

After adding the synthetic occlusions, we noticed that the error rate increased for both classifiers in all tested occlusion masks, the dark blue bars in Figure \ref{fig:results}.
As for the occlusion-recovery-based approach with the inpainted images (green bars), we can see that it was not always helpful and its behavior is heavily dependent on the classifier's robustness.

From Figure \ref{fig:results}-top, we observe that the regular classifier was severelly affected by the occluded images, having its error rate doubling for all cases, except for mask 7.
The inpainted images did improve this classifier's performance, specially in the presence of small occlusions, and for the watermark case (mask 6).

The robust classifier in Figure \ref{fig:results}-bottom was indeed better at ignoring the occlusions, having lower error rates for all cases.
One interesting thing is that the inpainting did worsen the robust classifier's performance for some masks (1, 4, and 5), this makes sense when we look at some of the inpainted images and see that, in some cases, the completions completely changes subject's appearance.

\begin{figure*}[t]
    \centering
    \includegraphics[trim={0 0 0 0},clip,width=.96\textwidth]{Figs/inpaintings.pdf}
    \caption{Example of inpainting results for all the masks.}
    \label{fig:inpaintings}
\end{figure*}

The inpainting results for masks 1 and 5 were a little disappointing since the short+long term attention layer of the PICNet should supposedly ``copy'' the symmetric information, such that, in those cases, a lower error rate was expected.
Results for mask 4 are expectedly high since this kind of occlusion is indeed made to hide identity (for anonymization purposes), and inpainting in this case could not recover the true features of the faces.
The best performance gains for the inpainting technique happened with the heavy watermark mask (6). This kind of occlusion was the worst for both classifiers and inpainting brought the error rate near the non-occluded baseline.
A surprising result was that of mask 7, which we believed would not have caused any harm on either classifier because it only masks out the areas of the images which are near the borders. However, that mask degraded both classifiers, indicating that ResNet (even if trained with CutMix) clearly uses non-facial cues for person recognition. Furthermore faces in this dataset are not aligned and relevant identification information lie near the border of some images.
Results in mask 8 are as expected, both classifiers failed to deliver any sensible classification with or without inpainting, since most of the subjects' faces are not visible with that mask.
In Figure \ref{fig:inpaintings} we illustrate some examples of the inpainting results for all the masks.
\section{Conclusions}
In this paper we studied two ways to deal with the problem of face recognition under occlusions (OFR) and
created 16 modified test sets which can be used for OFR problems, as well as for detection of deep fakes.
In our results, training a robust classifier was the strategy that generated better results, but for almost every case, inpainting was helpful for improving the accuracy of the classifier.

For future works, we propose to investigate how much of the techniques presented here could be transferred for situations in which occlusion masks are not available and have to be inferred by semantic segmentation.
Furthermore, it is well known the robustness of face recognition systems is improved by registering faces by aligning their features (e.g.\ eyes and nose tip). However, our results with mask 7 (which only occludes pixels near the image border) may indicate that some peripheral features (such as hair and neck) actually have a relatively high importance on face recognition. It will be interesting to investigate that systematically, using facial feature detection and explainable AI techniques.

Finally, it will be interesting to make use of more than one output of the pluralistic image completion approach to (i) check if there is considerably variability in the results and (ii) use an ensemble strategy to combine results of multiple inpainted versions of each image.

\bibliographystyle{IEEEtran}

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The public hearing will be held on Thursday, February 16, 2023, at 8:30 AM and 5:00 PM at the Dr. J. B. Black, Jr. Meeting and Training Facility, 1400 East Seymour Street, Muncie, Indiana.
The MPTC proposes the following service changes:
Make permanent the reduced service hours. Specifically, service hours begin at 6:15 a.m. and end at 7:30 p.m. M-F; with no changes to the Saturday schedule.
Add Service Route #17, Justice Center every 90 minutes from 8:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. M-F. Making permanent the current route from Transfer to Jackson to Adams to Liberty to Hoyt to Memorial to Tillotson to the Justice Center back via Tillotson, Memorial, Hoyt, Liberty, to Jackson.
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Everyone wonders what sections to include in their ezine.
There are strategies as to why certain sections should be included. In this blog post I've included typical section headers and what the underlying strategy is.
The first section should be something personal about the writer, such as what they've been doing lately, perhaps about a family vacation or something that happened in their family. The strategy behind this section is to have the reader get to know, like, and trust the writer better.
A section for events is optional, but definitely helpful in many ways. It not only keeps the reader updated on events that you're involved with, but gives you more credibility as the expert if you always have some event to talk about where you'll be speaking.
A not-to-be-missed section is a content value section with some brief article that gives value to your reader without being overly long. There should be some eye-catching image to break up the boring effect of only words. I also recommend an "assignment" or a challenge to implement something that's discussed, with an invitation to share results that happen as a result of implementing the recommended action.
The success story section highlights one of your clients that's been having great success. It's essentially a testimonial. You can request testimonials from your clients and include their headshot, name, tagline, and website, but I don't recommend making their website a clickable link. This is not a monetizing section, it's a gaining credibility section.
This is one of the monetizing sections. There should be a few links in this section, all to places where you can get sales or earn commissions. Here is where you'd place your affiliate links. They can be for a person, your products or other people's products, or software.
Call to action to share, like, post, tweet.
A sharing section is a must-have section with the purpose of further syndicating your ezine, building your list from your existing list. All of your social media icons should be here with as clickable links to not only friend or follow you, but also to tweet or post about you.
Don't neglect the bio section. This is a monetizing section. Besides telling the reader about yourself, you'll also want to invite them to fill out an application to talk with you to explore working with you. Of course, this section also adds credibility to you.
In my next blog post, I'll write about why your ezines should be consistent.


Heat oil in large saucepan, saute garlic and onion. After a minute add the meat.
Stir fry the meat until brown/most of the liquid has evaporated.
Add in water, soy sauce, vinegar, bay leaves, and black pepper.
Cover and simmer for 20 minutes, then add the potatoes.
If the water gets too low, top it up, otherwise the meat will burn.
Simmer again for 10 minutes or until the potatoes are cooked and soft.


Wigan Athletic part company with manager Gary Caldwell.
Wigan Athletic club statement confirms Gary Caldwell departure.
Caldwell leaves Latics 23rd in the Sky Bet Championship.
Chairman David Sharpe: "It's undoubtedly the toughest decision I've had to make since becoming Chairman."
The club reluctantly wish to announce that we have parted company with manager Gary Caldwell, with immediate effect.
With the club in 23rd place in the Sky Bet Championship, after recording just two wins in 14 games this season, the decision was made today to make a change.
Chairman David Sharpe said: "It's undoubtedly the toughest decision I've had to make since becoming Chairman.
"We deservedly won the League One title last season. However, we have not managed to carry on that momentum into this season and, after careful consideration over a period of time, I feel that we need to act now in the best long term interests of the club.
"We thank Gary for all the hard work he has put in and wish him all the best for the future.
Gary Caldwell was appointed manager in April 2015 after signing as a player for the club in January 2010. He played 111 times for Latics, captaining the side to two survivals in the Barclays Premier League, and was club captain for the FA Cup victory in 2013.


text:
Europenews gazette
Home Sports What We Learned in the N.F.L.'s Wild-Card Round
What We Learned in the N.F.L.'s Wild-Card Round
That was not the case in the wild-card round, with the Buffalo Bills routing the New England Patriots, 47-17, Saturday night. The expanded postseason field, which added another team from each conference in the 2020 season, meant little distinctive play in the pairings between the No. 2 and No. 7 seeds, as the Tampa Bay Buccaneers dismantled the Philadelphia Eagles, 31-15, on Sunday afternoon and the Pittsburgh Steelers, whose quarterback earlier this week admitted "we don't stand a chance" ahead of their 42-21 prime time loss to Kansas City.
There is no larger narrative to wrap around such unbalanced outcomes, and it is tempting to wonder if there was actually anything to be gleaned in this year's wild-card weekend.
There was: The Buccaneers can dink their way through as long as the defense holds.
Tampa Bay learned it wouldn't have its lead running back, Leonard Fournette, available for Sunday's game, and was already playing without the receivers Chris Godwin and Antonio Brown, two of Tom Brady's favorite targets. Still, the game could not have been teed up any better for the Buccaneers' offense, stylistically.
The Eagles lack the top-end talent to create big defensive plays, ranking in the bottom 10 in sacks, tackles for loss and passes broken up. Their soft zone coverage and inability to create much pressure gave the greatest quarterback to ever "take what the defense gives" too much room to dink and dunk his way down the field. Brady finished with a sweatless 29-of-37 performance, including two touchdowns.
Philadelphia led the league in rushing yards per game, but no team in the 2021 regular season threw the ball less often, and the threat of quarterback Jalen Hurts or any of the Eagles' backs was not enough to manufacture alleys against a defense plugged by the gigantic combination of Vita Vea and Ndamukong Suh on the interior.
Teams know better than to run against Tampa Bay: The Buccaneers saw the fewest rushing attempts of any team this season but still were in the top 10 in tackles for loss, remarkable efficiency for a front seven.
The Eagles' only strength played to a buzz saw performance by the Buccaneers' defense. Hurts led all Eagles rushers with 39 yards, and a 34-yard touchdown in garbage time from Boston Scott inflated what had been a 3.8 yards per carry team average prior.
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AMERICAN CRAFT BEER FEST TOMORROW!!! WOOOO WOOOO WOOOOO!!
Then a barbecue and fire pit.
Hopefully I can breathe by then.
What are all of ya'll up to? I'm about ready to go to bed so I wake up rested and thirsty.


Kirillov N. P., Leontyeva E. G.
The paper examines the competitiveness of the graduates and competence-oriented approach which is a basis of the modern graduate training. The authors substantiate innovative teaching methods as a means of increasing the competitiveness of the graduates.
1. Kozlov A. V. The competitiveness of the graduates on the job market. Global economic crisis: realias and ways of overcoming, 2009, no. 7, pp. 379 (in Russian).
2. Shilova M. I., Belykh I. L. Formation of competitiveness of the university graduates. Tomsk State Pedagogical University Bulletin, 2010, no. 4, pp. 39–45 (in Russian).
3. Solodovnikova О. M., Zamyatina О. M., Mozgalyova Р. I., Lychaeva М. V. Formation of elite tecnical specialist's competences. Professional education in Russia and abroad, 2013, no. 3, pp. 65–71 (in Russian).
4. Chuchalin A. I., Gerasimov S. I. The competences of engineering programs' graduates: national and international standards. Higher education in Russia, 2012, no. 10, pp. 3–14 (in Russian).
5. Research of problems and perspectives of graduates placement on the modern job market. URL: http://job.petrsu.ru/site/article/57 (accessed 10 Feb 2014) (in Russian).
6. Graduates on the job market. URL: http://career.ru/article/ (accessed 10 Feb 2014) (in Russian).
7. Malysheva А. А., Nevrayeva I. V. Competences of young graduates through the eyes of employers. Izvestia of Tomsk polytechnic university, 2006, vol. 309, no. 8, pp. 225–229 (in Russian).


In any congressional hearing about technology, at least a few lawmakers will use Silicon Valley executives as their own personal tech support staff. Usually, the questions involve products that their companies actually make. Google CEO Sundar Pichai got unlucky at a hearing in the House Judiciary Committee today, when Rep. Steve King (R-IA) asked Pichai to explain why his daughter's iPhone was acting strangely. Pichai hesitated. "Congressman, the iPhone is made by a different company." King, undeterred, decided that the brand of the phone wasn't really important. "It might have been an Android."
In any congressional hearing about technology, at least a few lawmakers will use Silicon Valley executives as their own personal tech support staff. But usually, the questions at least involve products that their companies actually make. So Google CEO Sundar Pichai got particularly unlucky at a hearing in the House Judiciary Committee today, when Rep. Steve King (R-IA) asked Pichai to explain why his daughter's iPhone was acting strangely.
King, undeterred, decided that the brand of the phone wasn't really important. "It might have been an Android. It's just, it was a hand-me-down of some kind," he said.
It's not clear what King was referring to, but it's possible his granddaughter's iPhone (or possibly Android phone) was displaying a notification card about a news story. The language around his photo may forever remain a mystery, but during campaign season, there was no shortage of writers with strong feelings about King's numerous racist and anti-immigrant statements, or his endorsement of a Canadian white nationalist mayoral candidate. In any case, during the hearing, King also suggested that Congress should check Google employees' social media profiles to monitor their political leanings — so some confusing troubleshooting requests were probably the least of Pichai's worries.


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dbx 231s Dual Channel 31-Band EQ
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I dug into my photo archive for this week's photo challenge. I think Las Vegas is definitely an Urban city. The photo is of Bellagio Hotel with the fountain in front.
Gorgeous! I love the Bellagio!
What is great about LV is the food and the Cirque du Soleil shows!


text:
Бошары — название населённых пунктов.

Россия
 Бошары — деревня в Богородском районе Кировской области.
 Бошары — деревня в Мурашинском районе Кировской области.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Jim Lauderdale "Time Flies" (Yep Roc, 2018)
After seeing him host and judge the Americana and the Independent Music Awards respectively, be an Honorary Chairperson for the Chris Austin Songwriting Contest each April at MerleFest in Wilkesboro, North Carolina, co-hosting – along with Buddy Miller – "The Buddy & Jim Show" on SiriusXM's Outlaw Country channel, and hosting his own eponymously-named show on WSM Radio, it would be easy to forget that Jim Lauderdale has actually recorded 29 albums throughout his career, in addition to writing songs for George Strait, Blake Shelton, Elvis Costello, the Dixie Chicks, and Vince Gill, among others.
Now, Lauderdale's 30th album, 'Time Flies,' finds the two-time Grammy winner once again blurring the lines of country, western swing, jazz, and soul. Produced by Lauderdale with Jay Weaver, 'Time Flies' kicks off with the title track, a soulful, flatland-invoking country ballad tailor-made for George Strait to come out of retirement with and take to the top of the charts.
'The Road Is a River' gallops along with a four-on-the-floor disco tempo while 'Slow as Molasses' wouldn't sound out of place on a children's album, yet it succeeds because it's playfully charming without being cloying.
Western swing lays the foundation of both the fun 'Wild on Me Fast' and the big misfire on the album, 'While You're Hoping,' while commendable as being the most adventurous of the lot, ends up sounding forced.
Highlights on 'Time Flies' include 'When I Held the Cards' – an ode to the power of youth and the sting of regret – and the Mose Allison-inspired hep-cat jazz of 'Wearing Out Your Cool' with a sax riff and groove that would make Van Morrison smile.
'Time Flies' closes with the most traditional country song on the album, 'If the World's Still Here Tomorrow' ("I'll still be loving you," Lauderdale sings), which due to today's current political climate in America, means the sentiment carries added gravitas.
Seemingly doubling down on the 'Time Flies' theme, Lauderdale is simultaneously releasing 'Jim Lauderdale and Roland White,' a newly rediscovered recording from 1979 created in Earl Scruggs's basement with the former Bill Monroe and Lester Flatt sideman and mandolin wizard. Lauderdale contributes the high lonesome harmonies to White's lead. Their voices meld together well, and the songs are pleasant, though you won't find anything groundbreaking here. It's mainly a historical piece for completists of both artists.
These two releases bookend a career that's seen its share of success and frustration. Jim Lauderdale may never have become an A-lister, yet his songs have helped others attain and maintain that status. He's also lauded as an architect and an ambassador of Americana, both as an artist and behind the scenes. One would be lucky to look back over 40 years at their career and see such accomplishments.
Tempus fugit indeed.
Americana ambassador delivers solid if unremarkable 30th album
Author Mike ElliottPosted on July 30, 2018 July 30, 2018 Categories Album ReviewsTags Jim Lauderdale
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Q: RSA Encrypting in c# and Decrypting data in java I'm trying to encrypt data in my C# client with public RSA key from the Java server. To do this I generated KeyPair in Java
KeyPairGenerator.java
KeyPairGenerator kpg = KeyPairGenerator.getInstance("RSA");
kpg.initialize(2048);
KeyPair kp = kpg.generateKeyPair();
Key pub = kp.getPublic();
Key pvt = kp.getPrivate();

String outFile = "rsa_key";
FileOutputStream outPvt = new FileOutputStream(outFile + ".key");
outPvt.write(pvt.getEncoded());
outPvt.close();

FileOutputStream outPub = new FileOutputStream(outFile + ".pub");
outPub.write(pub.getEncoded());
outPub.close();

It gave me two files (rsa_key.key and rsa_key.pub) and then I encoded public key with Base64 so C# could read it:
PublicKeyBase64.java
String keyFile2 = "rsa_key.pub";
Path path2 = Paths.get(keyFile2);
byte[] bytes2 = Files.readAllBytes(path2);
X509EncodedKeySpec ks2 = new X509EncodedKeySpec(bytes2);
KeyFactory kf2 = KeyFactory.getInstance("RSA");
PublicKey pub = kf2.generatePublic(ks2);

Base64.Encoder encoder = Base64.getEncoder();
String outFile = "en_rsa_key";
Writer out = new FileWriter(outFile + ".pub");
out.write(encoder.encodeToString(pub.getEncoded()));
out.close();

Then I created my C# class to encrypt data
Encrypter.cs
class Encrypter
{
    private const string PATH = "..\\..\\key\\en_rsa_key.pub";
    private string PublicKey;

    public Encrypter()
    {
        PublicKey = File.ReadAllText(PATH);
        Console.WriteLine(PublicKey.Length);
    }

    public string encryptData(string dataToEncrypt)
    {
        Asn1Object obj = Asn1Object.FromByteArray(Convert.FromBase64String(PublicKey));
        DerSequence publicKeySequence = (DerSequence)obj;

        DerBitString encodedPublicKey = (DerBitString)publicKeySequence[1];
        DerSequence publicKey = (DerSequence)Asn1Object.FromByteArray(encodedPublicKey.GetBytes());

        DerInteger modulus = (DerInteger)publicKey[0];
        DerInteger exponent = (DerInteger)publicKey[1];
        RsaKeyParameters keyParameters = new RsaKeyParameters(false, modulus.PositiveValue, exponent.PositiveValue);
        RSAParameters parameters = DotNetUtilities.ToRSAParameters(keyParameters);
        RSACryptoServiceProvider rsa = new RSACryptoServiceProvider();
        rsa.ImportParameters(parameters);
        //Console.WriteLine(dataToEncrypt);
        byte[] encryptedData = rsa.Encrypt(Encoding.UTF8.GetBytes(dataToEncrypt), true);
        //Console.WriteLine(Convert.ToBase64String(encryptedData));
        return Convert.ToBase64String(encryptedData);
    }
}

And at last my Decrypter class

public class Decrypter {

    private static final String PATH = "I:\\rsa_key.key";
    private File privateKeyFile = new File(PATH);
    private RSAPrivateKey privateKey;

    public Decrypter() throws Exception {
        DataInputStream dis = new DataInputStream(new FileInputStream(privateKeyFile));
        byte[] privateKeyBytes = new byte[(int)privateKeyFile.length()];
        dis.read(privateKeyBytes);
        dis.close();
        KeyFactory keyFactory = KeyFactory.getInstance("RSA");
        PKCS8EncodedKeySpec privSpec = new PKCS8EncodedKeySpec(privateKeyBytes);
        privateKey = (RSAPrivateKey) keyFactory.generatePrivate(privSpec);
    }

    public String decrypt(String data) throws Exception{
        Cipher cipher = Cipher.getInstance("RSA");
        cipher.init(Cipher.ENCRYPT_MODE, privateKey);
        return new String(cipher.doFinal(data.getBytes()));
    }
}

I send encrypted data in C# via WebSocket and receive it without any problem because data while sending and receiving is the same. The problem is that data length is 344 characters (bytes) so when I decrypt my data it shows me and error: javax.crypto.IllegalBlockSizeException: Data must not be longer than 245 bytes
I'm using 2048 bit key so it's 256B - 11B for padding that's why it's 245B. But the problem is that it always generates 344B and it doesn't depend on message to encode length. For example encoding "A" gives 344B and "Hello world" also 344B.
In this topic people say to use symmetric key, Encrypt the data with the symmetric key and then Encrypt the symmetric key with rsa. But it won't help because any encrypted string in my code has 344B size, so I won't be able to decrypt encrypted symmetric key.
What's wrong with my code?

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


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Suge Knight >
Suge Knight 'might have a brain tumour'
By Bang Showbiz in Lifestyle / Showbiz on 17 July 2015
Follow Suge Knight
Controversial music mogul Suge Knight has been told he might have a brain tumour.
Suge Knight has reportedly been told he might have a brain tumour.
The controversial music mogul, who was charged with murder and attempted murder following a fatal hit-and-run earlier this year, suffers from numbness on one entire side of his body and doctors have reportedly told him he might have a brain tumor.
The 50-year-old record producer - who's known for his association with rappers Tupac Shakur and Dr. Dre, among others - has complained about the state of his cell and is looking to be moved to somewhere better, arguing its condition is taking a mental and physical toll on him, TMZ reports.
What's more, Suge claims his prison cell toilet flushes every 20 minutes on its own and that the bed in his current cell isn't big enough to rest his 6'2'' frame.
Suge's lawyers have argued he needs full access to a competent medical facility and a more comfortable cell in order to enjoy a good night's sleep.
In April, Suge pleaded not guilty to allegations he murdered businessman Terry Carter and attempted to murder Cle 'Bone' Sloan by running them over with his car following an altercation in January.
Suge Knight Pleads No Contest To Manslaughter, Facing 28 Years In Jail
The Truth Behind Reports That Suge Knight Has Named Tupac's Killers
Suge Knight Claims Dr. Dre TWICE Hired A Hitman To Kill Him
Suge Knight Sues Chris Brown For Multiple Gunshot Wounds At 2014 LA Party Shooting
Model Injured In Chris Brown Awards Party Shooting Suing Club Owners
Judge Refuses To Reduce Suge Knight's Bail
Judge Denies Suge Knight's Request To Lower $10 Million Bail & Receive Private Health Care
Suge Knight attacked by gunman?
Judge Denies Suge Knight's Request To Dismiss Murder Charge
Marion 'Suge' Knight Hit With Another Lawsuit
Woman Sues Suge Knight, Dr Dre and Ice Cube Over Wrongful Death
Suge Knight Refuses to Leave Police Cell and Face Judge
Suge Knight's Doctors Want To Remove Bullet Fragment


The library seems like a very community oriented place. It was nice to see all the employees coming together to learn. I think libraries are one of the best places to go because of the sense of community.
I also was at the training done here the other day. I really liked the library itself, it was very large (much larger than the library in my town), and it seemed to have a lot more areas to relax. I also noticed they had several events going on, which I also liked. Overall, the people I talked to were very friendly and glad to attend the presentation. The library also was very physically accommodating, and had accessible bathrooms and ramps for wheelchair users.
I was also at today's library event and had a nice time. The presenters did a wonderful job, and everybody with whom I interacted was excellent. This library recently underwent a renovation and is very spacious.
Presented here today. Staff was very nice, made me feel welcomed. Building was accessible.
I've been to the Wilmette Public Library a few times and I've always found the people who work there to be wonderful. I was at an event there today, and the accommodations made for us were very good.
Wow! Wilmette Public Library is a great destination for people with and without disabilities. They have it all...from a great accessible facility to a great collection; from used books to all kinds of programming for those with all kinds of interests. Library staff members are warm and helpful, and are really making an effort to understand and address the needs of their patrons with special needs. The Library has recently started offering "sensory friendly" movie screenings, and has invited a patron with an intense interest in movie posters to display part of his collection at the Library. Wow!
I like the Wilmette public Library The people are nice and Friendly. I highly recommended it to my friends. I like getting books at the library too and videos and dvd's too. They are Free. I love going there!
I've been to the Wilmette Library several times by myself. Sometimes I've ridden my bike there and sometimes I've walked there. Whenever I go to the Wilmette Library by myself, when I can't find a book, the guys usually help me find the book and they've been helpful. I use my own library card when I go to the Wilmette Library by myself. It has been fun to go to the Wilmette Public Library by myself. It's a fun library to go to.


text:
Artificial Nocturne
By E. Catherine Tobler
Issue #126, July 25, 2013
Rosemary and mint drip from the impossibly long fingers of Maman Floss as she spreads cooling bat grease across my shoulder. I keep my eyes closed, her voice wrapping around me in a contralto so soothing I forget the constant pain that radiates from shoulder to fingertips.
She tells me: If I had broken you earlier, chauve-souris, you would not feel such agony. I should not have taken you, but sometimes you see a thing and cannot resist. You can see what it should be and make it such. Her fingers slide down my arm, to the elbow where the bones have been separated. One bone is angled down, to support the silken, umber skin Maman Floss stretched into my wing. She holds me by the hand and stretches my wing until I whimper. Only then does she release me. In the right light—the gauzy light at the edge of the sodden marsh that spills above the steel train track—the edges of my wings flare with gold.
Maman Floss was broken before she can remember, changed from what she had been born as to what she would become. Her fingers were opened, spread, and lengthened when young muscles and bones still allowed such ease of puzzle-making. Her legs were unknotted, pulled like the taffies she sometimes brings home from the city.
Her great oblong head brushes the ceilings as she moves through her house and she bends through every doorway, honeyed curls catching at cobwebs. Her figure is perfect, retaining the shape of the hourglass that molded her throughout her youth. The fragments of that hourglass fill a jar that sits on the topmost shelf in the room I like least.
When the body is older, she has told me, it becomes more difficult, less flexible. Flex-e-bull, she says, voice thick with an accent from over the ocean. She wishes every day that she could spare me the pain as she does others in her collection, but she cannot, so we go forward as we are.
She tucks my winged arm against my side and I open my eyes, quivering after the rubdown. Gliding still exhausts me; my muscles are still developing to their form. Maman Floss twists the lid onto the jar of grease and wipes her pale fingers clean on her skirt as she crosses the room. She studies the casks and jars upon the shelves, the forms inside. Small hands press against the jar walls, palms traced with little lines that will never grow larger, grins warped by the ripple in the knee-high glass. Kage raps on his jar lid and Maman Floss goes to him, unscrews the lid and lets him pop his head out . She talks to him in a soothing coo and then it's back into the jar he goes, content, still adapting his size to its glassy walls.
Of the dwarves, Gordon is my favorite. Maybe it is because I've known him the longest. Maybe it is because he holds my hands and dries my face when I am done crying. He doesn't tell me not to cry but lets me have a proper bawl, understanding the pain that comes from transformation. He's twenty-nine years old but smaller than even me. I can reach the counters in the kitchen; he has to climb up the stepstool to perch on them, which he has done now, bringing me a pineapple.
He sits beside me, parting the fruit with a knife well suited to his smaller hands, offering me a gold crescent when it breaks free with a wet slurp. Sweetness bursts through the rosemary and mint, obliterating it.
Maman's father, Lucien Delaunay, requires the best things, even if it means making them himself. He often smells like paints and solvents from hours in his studio painting and creating. He paints our likenesses on broad sheets of crisp paper. Everyone in the house gives him a wide berth but for Maman Floss. He didn't have to assemble his car, but we treat it as though he did. When the car isn't being used, it rests under a cloth that reminds me of Maman's dresses, dark and soft between my fingers.
We don't do many things together as a family, so when Lucien says we are going to the city, there is a small explosion of excitement in every room of the house, even from those who aren't going. A trip into the city means we will return with unusual things: caramels, pomegranates, fresh coffee. Solomon whose face has been remade into the likeness of a fish, wants a train; Harriet who looks like she could fold her ears around her face to hide away, wishes for a yoyo. Maman Floss has Gordon make this list, as she cannot write so well with her long fingers.
Last winter, Maman Floss made me a new square-shouldered cape and she drops this over me as the list grows, helping me arrange arms and wings beneath the hound's-tooth fabric. Coconuts, ropes of garlic; Miriam wants a rocking horse but Lucien says no, absolutely no, because she is being made to tumble not ride, her legs and arms already loose, without joint. Gordon doesn't add it to the list, though he skips a space, as though it is there.
The grill of the car looks like long chrome teeth in a yawning mouth. Gordon said that once, but Lucien didn't like it, so Gordon has never said it again. Still, I can't stop thinking about it as the soft cloth is drawn back. The night-black of the fabric whispers away to reveal the metallic ruby curves and the thing I can never stop looking at, the small naked silver woman who perches at the apex of the hood. She is bent with the wind and a shiver runs through my whole body. I'm still looking at her when I crawl into the backseat. She is a bright speck through the windshield.
I call her Birdie and she sees us safely to the city, even though after a while I cannot see her for the way Maman Floss leans into her father and he wraps his arm around her narrow shoulders. I watch the way his fingers stroke the long line of her neck and the way she stretches in response, a cat about to purr. Her head brushes the ceiling of the cab, honey curls rioting, and I am reminded of the way her mouth moved against his skin in the room where she keeps the fragments of the hourglass that once enclosed her. I feel carsick and look at Gordon who folds his list into triangles, back and forth, opened and closed, like a small blooming flower.
Marshland abruptly gives way to the city, building after building of wonder. Houses, markets, workplaces spreading out in precise rows. Some windows are hidden behind wood shutters whose faded paints have begun to peel from too many scorching summers. Other glass has been fashioned into long rows of thin doors that reflect twisted iron balconies clinging to stucco and brick alike. The two-story balconies with their iron arches are my favorites. Many are hung with gold-trimmed flags: scarlet, grape, the blue of Maman's Friday dress. These fluttering flags taught me my colors.
I don't go to the city often; my cape makes little sense in the summer and I cannot go in public without it. It hides my wings, which Maman says will alarm the common folk. They have never seen a wonder such as me, she says, and would hurt me in their excitement. Gordon is less troublesome, she also says; he is only small, often mistaken for a child. People look right past his ordinariness. But Maman Floss knows I love the city and so takes me in the cooler winter nights. It will be Mardi Gras soon, but already the city is illuminated.
We park at the end of the long market. When Lucien sees that I've nose-printed the window, that I have left a round of fog from my gaping mouth, he clicks his tongue. He snaps his hand as if he means to hit me but only pulls his handkerchief from his coat pocket, to wipe all trace of me from the glass. Gordon clasps the edge of my cape and we trail after Maman Floss, quickly forgetting Lucien. He will find us or not, but either way, we are already in the market bathing in the scents and sounds.
The market has its own language, a blend of Creole, English, Spanish, French. My first time here it was overwhelming, but now it's a comfort, a music that rises and floats into the night where I imagine lightning bugs suck it up and glow. The air coming off the river is cool tonight and it smells like mud, the kind I want to squish my toes into, but Gordon is already pulling me toward the heaps of produce. Maman Floss has a basket which we fill with coconuts (three), sausages (four links) and soft apricots (seven, but she gives me one now and I rub its soft hide against my cheek before biting into it). A group of nuns streams past us, black cloaks and white hats that seem to fly up onto the wind.
The earthy scent of mud gives way to fruit and vegetables the deeper into the market we go, but even above that, there is something else. It's not the boats that line the river docks but the long shadowed train on the tracks in front of them. It smells like a normal train, like oil and coal, but it smells like animals, too. Like lions to start, but then other things I've never smelled before. Things that smell like cloud and sky, and only when Maman Floss strokes her fingers down my nose do I realize that I've stopped walking and am staring.
She can smell these things, too, because her majestic head turns that way as if she's following my stare, but I can see the flare of her nose, the rise of her chest as she breathes in the air and knows something unusual has arrived. She continues down the row of vendors, ever closer to the train and its cargoes.
Crates of apples and long strings of bananas lead us toward smaller stands of instruments and books, toys and trinkets. Maman Floss finds a palm-sized train and a yoyo, and there is a rocking horse with a brilliant blue saddle but we leave her there, rocking under the force of a five year old who tackles it with glee. Miriam's horse, I think but do not say.
We creep toward the train, basket filling with items as we go. I can tell that Maman Floss is distracted when she buys more apricots, when she doesn't notice that I eat two more and pocket the stones, and I strain to see around her. I think at first that a long string of bananas are somehow sitting on top of the train, and how strange that is, and of course it would catch Maman's attention, but it's not bananas. People in the market shift, allowing the light to spill upward, and I easily recognize the line of a wing.
The great bird sits atop the train, its back to the market. It is impossible to tell the color of the wings in the play of light and dark, but they are beautiful, perfectly folded one over the other to mimic the shape of a heart against its back. I have never seen a bird so big; nor likely has Maman Floss, who stops in her tracks. Gordon, watching a line of monkeys being led past on a leash, runs into Maman, and I reach out to keep him from falling.
Scrolling text decorates the train's engine, gold curling into red and blue. Jackson's Unreal Circus, it says, with Mobile Marmalade scribbled below. I picture marmalade oozing from the train's wheels but see instead a small kiosk set up with row upon row of gleaming jars. They are stacked gems in the night, catching all available light, turning it to orange, gold, crimson.
Before I can ask if we can get some marmalade, Maman is moving that direction. It's rare that we are allowed this treat too, but Gordon and I love marmalade spread on croissants, on baguette, on anything. We would eat it off our fingers—and have.
The bird has eyes as golden as some of those marmalades. I belatedly realize this means the bird is watching me the way I watch it—the way I watch her. As I linger behind Maman Floss, hugging our full basket of purchases against my chest, my eyes are drawn upward to that large shadow which becomes less shadowy as she turns to watch us. It is with a soft cry I realize the bird has no bird's face.
She— Oh, her face is a human woman's, as if she has been made the way I have been made, a girl turned into a flying thing, but I can tell she has not been. There are no arms, no legs. From the neck down, she is bird and bird alone but for that face. In this light, no longer blocked by the market stalls, her feathers glisten, seeming black but being red under that, blood trapped under ink.
Maman Floss reaches back, a comforting hand sliding over my shoulder and then away. She murmurs, but it's the marmalade lady she's speaking with, buying a jar of lemon and what I hope is cherry. These come into the basket, a solid weight, but I can't stop looking up at that bird. That beautiful bird.
Lucien finds us eventually and we leave the market as we came, Maman and Lucien exploring the shops she hasn't yet, me and Gordon trailing behind. I keep stopping, to look at the train and its bird. And strangely, that bird is watching me, head tilted as though she is listening to a song only she can hear. Her immense talons curl against the metal of the train and I am captivated in a way I never have been before.
It's Gordon's small hand and whisper that gets me to look away. He pulls my cape hem, guiding me toward a column plastered with papers and posters. Lucien and Maman are haggling over the cost of grapefruits, so we are free to stare at the bulletins and to find amid them our own faces. Gordon's hand strokes the likeness of my face, my spread bat wings. I last saw this image in Lucien's studio, paint still gleaming wet. Now, there are words below.
Winter evenings, it says in a careful hand, French Market.
These posters are common in the market; people selling what they will, how they can. And I realize now that while Maman and Lucien might be talking about grapefruits, they look at me and Gordon and to the shop owner again, as though we are the tart round fruits in a bin, ready for inspection. But the shopkeeper says something Lucien doesn't care for and then we are gone, scooped into his arms basket and all, carried up and out of the market, bundled back into his beautiful car, Birdie guiding us home.
Once home, I cannot stop thinking about two things: the bird and the poster. I am not sure which one disturbs me more. I don't tell anyone, not even Gordon. He doesn't speak to me of what we saw either, but there is still a conversation there, every time we look at each other. In his eyes I see the same thing that must linger in mine. Questions and hurts. Have we been made only to be sold?
Of course we wondered what happened to the others that used to live in this house. People as curious as us, usually children but sometimes not, would come and go; Maman Floss said they came for her expertise, and after they got what they needed, they would return to whatever lives they had lived before. I could name them all, but I don't, because I wonder now if Miriam and Solomon will someday add my name to that list. The Curious Who Used to Live With Maman.
I could ask Maman, but I don't do that, either. She and Lucien are busy in the coming days and spend time in their room with the door closed. When once I would have sought Maman out for comfort, I now stay as far as I can; wandering the property, watching the trains as they speed past, toward the city and away.
While I wander the marsh and yard, through air that has a presence all its own, the plan begins to take shape in my head. The city is too far for me to reach on my own. I cannot walk there, nor glide all the way. My wings are not strong enough for flying and may never be, Maman Floss has told me; they are artificial, primarily for show, never meant to hold an entire body aloft no matter how skinny I stay. But I could reach the city on those trains, could glide my way to the top of a car and ride until I reached the market, the siren. There are things I want to know—things I know Maman will not tell me. If she would, surely she would have by now.
A bird like the siren? I think of those wings, and the skies, and all she must have seen. All the cities and people, the twisting rivers, some maybe larger than even the Mississippi, and the roads, and where those roads go. What does the world look like from those high places?
Gordon does not tell me no. Much the way he lets me cry, he doesn't argue when I tell him I mean to go. He does tell me to be careful, that if I want to go to Mardi Gras I won't be caught, and I very much want to enjoy the parades and spectacle, so I swear to be careful. The trains run like clockwork, he says. I can go and come back and no one will know, because also like clockwork are Maman and Lucien once that door is closed, once the lanterns are lit.
Catching the train is like catching lightning. It's fast and hot and stinks. From the roof of Maman's house, I ride an updraft of cool air and ride this west to the tracks but am unprepared for the speed of the train. I think it will be a simple thing to latch onto it—how the siren sat with her beautiful talons curled against her train!—but the train doesn't care that I am trying to land. It zips past as if I am no more than a speck of moss blown up from the track. I may as well be.
It's the last coal car I fall into, hard, and I lay there stunned, watching the starry sky unfurl as we move away from the house. By the time we reach the city, I've gathered myself enough to realize I have no cape, no protection from common eyes. Before the train can completely slow, I lift my arms to catch the wind, to let it carry me out of the coal and toward flat rooftops.
The wind has its own language. I do not yet know all of the words, but I know enough of them until I reach the edge of the last building. There is an unexpected updraft, the rush of a competing wind from the street, and it buoys me up before dropping me. I tumble into the cobbled street near the empty marmalade stand.
For a little while, it's quiet. The market is closed and the rumble of that far off train stays far off. If I listen close, there is the sound of the river, but that's not what I came for. The circus train is still there. I push myself up from the ground, arms held close to my sides to hide my wings as I run to the tracks.
West of the market and running parallel to the river, there is a triangular open space. Circus tents fill this space, striped and not, luminous in the dark. Shadowed figures move inside some while others are still. I can smell wild cats the closer I get and see that they are not caged but prowl the fence that encloses the entire circus. A lioness spies me, a regal head I know only from the one that decorates the wall in Lucien's studio. The eyes that appraise me are not glass. They hold a hunger I don't want to see. Even with the fence there, I run.
She bolts alongside me. The fence line blurs between us, my arms and legs pumping. But I am a poor runner, my wings slowing me, and if this fence did not stand between my strides and hers, the lioness would be upon me. Her snarl makes me shriek and then I am airborne. The ground falls away and I seem to be flying but I am not. Hard talons curl over my shoulders, around my arms, mindful of my wings. I look up to see who I came for: the siren.
She carries me over the fence line inside the circus limits and sets me down near a metal barrel that is blazing with warmth and fire. The lioness keeps her distance, but I still stumble backward over a log which has been dragged close to the barrel. I bite my tongue and splutter blood as the siren nears. She strides forward on those talons, takes hold of the log opposite me, and perches.
If beauty were a thing... No. If the impossible was made possible... No.
Just as the wind has its own language, so too must whatever world this siren comes from. I cannot find the words for her. She watches me with her golden eyes, and I think that she must be draped in jewels to gleam the way she does but it is only feathers and firelight. I pick myself up and slide onto the log, wrapping my awkward wings around my shaking body. The siren does not waste time with hellos.
"You are trying to be a bat," she says.
That isn't entirely correct and I open my mouth, but the siren lifts a wing before I can speak.
"You have been made into a bat," she says next, "but were a little girl before this? Are still a little girl... but one with bat's wings. Who has done this thing to you?"
"Maman saved me."
The tone in my voice startles me. Startles the siren, too, because her shoulders lift, her head tilts, as if absorbing a blow. But then she smiles, and I am somehow telling her the story, the story of a girl so tiny she could fit through a whisper space between brick buildings if she had to (and she had to), a girl so tiny she could walk through puddles without leaving a ripple. A girl who did not know her parents but had been given up to the city, because the city seemed a kinder mother than one who spent all her money on tobacco and alcohol. This was a girl who was found by Maman Floss shivering in the rain until a velveteen coat was wrapped around her, until she was drawn into a beautiful car and carried away, to a house in the marsh filled with children like her, children who would be remade into things as beautiful as that car.
"You are Gabrielle," the siren tells me, and from her talon she tosses a scrap of paper, the poster with my face and name. "I am Agnessa."
Agnessa tells me her own story, about how she lived with others of her kind until one day hunters came, hunters with arrows which sliced the sky apart and sent her sisters to death. She alone survived the slaughter and lived because of the kindness of one man and one woman, these two emerging from a place she can still hardly believe, and at that she gestures to the circus which enfolds us. We are similar creatures, she tells me, having survived the worst things, but the difference is this: she has freedom, I have captivity.
There is a denial in my mouth—it tastes metallic—but I know she is right. I had to sneak away to be here. I could not tell Maman I was coming, but even so, she knows, because Agnessa turns as we hear the crunch of tires over gravel, as that crimson car pulls up outside the line of the circus fence and Maman steps out to regard us.
Maman never yells. She takes me home, pressing fairy-soft apricots into my hands for the ride back. At the house, I worry the storm will come from Lucien but I don't see him. Maman leads me into the kitchen, sits me on the stool beside the counter, and cleans my face. I am a mess of apricots and coal dust.
Chauve-souris, she whispers. What if someone had seen you? What if someone had taken you from me? And when I don't answer, she keeps on, her hands as tender as ever as they slide through my wet hair. I can feel each coil spring back as she passes through. I could not bear such a thing ever, ever.
She encourages me to go back, insisting that Gordon accompany me. It will be difficult, she says, because Gordon cannot fly, but go, speak with the siren, learn her ways, test your wings. That same rosemary mint smell falls from her fingers as she strokes a shiver down my arm.
I never dreamed of being allowed to go this way, and though the going is slower with Gordon we find a farmer who makes the trek every day and doesn't mind a couple curious occasional passengers.
For tales of our lives, he will take us. He thinks every word is a fiction. When I tell him of Maman's grand head, of the way she lived her earliest years with it pressed between cloth-wrapped boards, he laughs, for the image of this young girl is a strange one. How did she see to walk, the farmer demands. She had no need, I say, because of what had been done to her legs, her arms. She could not walk as she was being remade.
I, too, am being remade. Agnessa welcomes us with open wings. Every time thereafter, it is also a welcome. Gordon and I sit amid the performers as they practice. The gates are closed during the day to allow preparation for the evening shows. They will have a float in the parades, Agnessa tells us. They will shower the crowds with beads, coins, and if someone is very lucky, free tickets to all the circus shows.
The marmalades are sweet and tart both, and while they don't evoke a response me in other than hunger Gordon is drawn to tears with every bite. It reminds him of Paris, he says as he folds a bit of croissant together with orange marmalade and tears pressed between, and I never knew he was in Paris—don't even know where that is, but I picture deserts, flowing sand. He says no more, swallowing the bread, tears and all. Beth who makes the marmalades only smiles like she knows. Jackson, who owns the circus, asks about Maman Floss and Lucien. He has seen the posters, he prompts. This reminds me I am to be sold.
Jackson never asks about that. He only smiles like Beth as Agnessa leads me to the main tent and shows me the trapezes. They hang in pairs from the tent ceiling and we watch as the humans swing upon them, and leap, and soar. My heart aches for it and when Agnessa nudges me toward the long rope ladders that lead up, I stumble. I could not—
Mother birds don't push their young from the nest, Agnessa tells me as she walks me over. But her mother was not precisely a bird and so felt no such need to hold back and shoved her out with one strong wing. Agnessa screamed the whole way down but before she could hit the ground unfurled her wings and flew. Flew away and never looked back, until she was captured.
The ropes sag under my weight, but soon I am at the top and no one there looks at me like I am out of place. They step back and give me the platform, one man holding a trapeze should I decide I want one. But I don't. I look down at Agnessa and don't think about anything as I let go and fall.
The air catches me, or I catch the air, and I lift myself up with one stroke and then another. But my body is too heavy for my wings, so I let the air guide me down in slow spirals, until I touch my feet to the dusty ground.
Agnessa beams. If beauty was a thing... No. If the impossible was made possible... No. There are just no words for that, nor when she has us climb upon her broad back and nestle between her wings. She smells like all the high places, where only wind and cloud go, and that's where she takes us, up and toward Maman's marsh house, where she leaves us, traces a wide circle in the sky, and is then gone.
Fat Tuesday. Tonight, the nuns stay inside to prepare for the coming of Lent, and even the moon has tucked herself away this year. I cannot see the stars for the amount of light that vomits up from the bedecked streets. So many lights and candles and it doesn't matter that most people have no money; what little they had was converted to light, just for tonight.
Amid the floats roams the circus and its people. Not creations. They have not been made the way Gordon and I have been and I think my eyes should run green with envy. Each is a natural thing: Agnessa the siren, Delilah the bearded lady, Prancer the man who is somehow as tall as rooftops; Foster who smells like the hot metal of fresh coins, and Sombra, who is a shadow against her sister Gemma until she turns into the light and Gemma the shadow. The lions prowl on leashes of cobweb and mist, and I can hardly stand the wonder. Gordon and I watch from the rooftops, trailing the procession. Maman Floss says she will meet us at the end, with hot cocoa because the night is cooler than any yet.
But she meets us with more than that. I don't notice until I'm on the ground, because the glide down is what I look forward to. Tonight of all nights, I can be me, because they will mistake me for a thing from the parade, possibly a wonder from the circus, so I need no cloak even though the air is cold. Gordon and I reach the last building and there is a rush of air and I unfurl my wings, to catch this and ride it down. I scoop this invisible air into the skin that Maman so lovingly stretched over my broken arms, the ordinary skin she made into extraordinary wings, and even when my feet touch down, I keep my wings spread. They ruffle like silk.
Gordon takes the fire escape to the ground and he's clapping for me, clapping and laughing until he sees Maman and the strange man at her side. This man is gaunt, his cheeks hollowed as though someone sucked him empty with a straw. But his coat is the color of Lucien's car and this draws me forward when perhaps I should show more caution.
Chauve-souris, Maman whispers and she draws me close, a hand under my chin. Her long fingers curl up along the side of my face to lift my gaze to that of the strange man. He looks at me without so much as a smile. He is intent, studious, and smells like dark leaves that have been dried in hot sun. When he takes hold of my hand to draw my wing back out, I pull back, but he doesn't let me go, and that's when I know. His eyes narrow and his hand hurts so badly around mine and he pulls me toward him. No.
My time spent with Agnessa and the flyers has served me well. For a moment that lasts too long, I give in to his pull. My feet whisper across the ground, and when he has me closer he eases his touch because he thinks ah, she has understood and given up as the smaller animal will give in to the larger. No.
This close in I tuck my wings and dive for the ground. He does not expect this, so I am gone as he turns, as Maman cries out.
These cries are lost in the sounds of the parade. I run blindly from the man she would sell me to. I picture her mouth on Lucien and stop only once, to vomit every carnival treat I have eaten onto the street which still gleams with gold light. And then, running, flipping into the air when I feel an uprush. Putting more distance between me and everything I know until I stumble against a fabric wall, until I sink into straw and it swallows me and I can only think thank you, thank you, before I sob myself to sleep.
Jackson finds me. I wake to find he has pushed the straw back, enough to allow me to breathe without inhaling it. There's no panic when I sit up, when I pick straw from my skin. He offers me a wide cup and I drink as if I have roamed the deserts of Paris, and it's sweet lemonade, the best thing I have ever known. Jackson already seems to know my plight.
"Your bitch maman has my Agnessa," he says and he brushes his hands together to remove flecks of straw. His fingers are bent as if his muscles seized up on him, as if he knows the pain in my own body from being changed. "You could stay here. Would never sell you."
He draws a poster from his shirt pocket and his face is a misery as he studies it. "She does this." It's not a question. I realize this is partly why they came, why Agnessa took me in. Jackson has known. "She takes children and she..."
I can hear the pain in his voice when he can't continue. Remakes us, I tell him. Breaks us as she was broken. And I know now it's not normal, and it is like an awful waterfall through me, the truth rushing. All those children who left the house... where had they gone? I could name them all—but I don't, because... Because. That Jackson understands this betrayal is plain on his face. He nods, folds the poster back up, slides it back into his shirt pocket.
"Could stay here," he says again.
Maybe later, I tell myself because like it's a dream, that idea. But not yet, not while Maman has Agnessa.
Jackson drives me out to the marsh, where the house sits amid the moss-draped cypress, where the crickets' call is louder than nearly anything. I see Gordon in the yard but no one else. Jackson waits in the truck. Trusting me. Gordon hurries to my side, clutching at me, warning me how angry Maman is and Lucien too and they are looking for me, but they have also—
There is an awful sound from the house, a body screaming like it is being torn in two, and I run because I know the sound a thing makes when it breaks. I don't care about Maman and Lucien. I don't even care about me right then because there is this feeling inside like I will die if I stay here, if I am sold, if I am not sold. I have glimpsed awful things—and there is more awful to come, for I can smell the blood—but I have also seen the beauty and the light; I have seen that the train tracks leave this place.
Maman has Agnessa strung up in the room I hate, the walls bright with lanterns. Metal loops now descend from the ceiling, rise from the floor, and even emerge from the walls. Maman has tied Agnessa every which way, with rope that burns into her wings, her legs. I scream my fury at all of them, and Maman and Lucien stare—they have never seen me like this. I have never been like this. Maman tries to talk sense into me, but Lucien approaches with another loop of rope.
This is where things go bad. Agnessa struggles in her bonds, shedding feathers in her fear. The lanterns shake with her fury, light wavering as if in wind. Lucien strides forward and his hands smell like oil, like angry bird. The rope rasps against my cheeks as he drops it over my head, loops it around my throat. I picture Maman bent before him, her own throat held tight in his fist as her mouth moves against him. Chavre-souris, she told me long ago, it is our way. But not mine.
I only go slack enough to draw him in. He smiles—mon petite, he whispers and draws the rope into his fist. I slip forward, looping the rope around his wrists and pulling as I slide between his legs. With a tug, we both go down, and Maman screams. She can hardly stand it, but her nature is two-fold: the breaker, the healer. She staggers, clumsy in her panic, but I am not once loose of that rope.
It's deliberate when I sweep a wing into a lantern and send it crashing. Oil and flame lick up the wall, across the floor. The ropes which bind Agnessa catch. Maman shrieks and it's not Agnessa she reaches for, but me. I dance away, throwing shutters open so the air floods in, feeds the flames. I dash more lanterns to the floor. The room is engulfed and the heat is tremendous as Agnessa's ropes burn apart. She falls and her massive wings calm the fire a second before it surges back up.
Agnessa and I flee the room as the ceiling crumbles and the house is madness around us. Casks and jars explode from heat, sending dwarves sprawling on uncertain legs. Gordon helps them up, small hands clasping small hands that should not be small from now own, lined palms being allowed to finally grow outside glass walls.
This house is ever making things and now makes more Curious Who Used to Live With Maman. They emerge from their hiding places and we save all we can. As the fire consumes the house, the bed of Jackson's truck becomes an ark for the strange, the misplaced. Gordon huddles in my arms under the canopy of Agnessa's blood and ink wings, and we leave this place where we were broken and healed, returning to tents and train, and the promise of open skies.
Agnessa shows them to me. One by one, she teaches me the language of the winds.
© Copyright 2013 E. Catherine Tobler
Read Comments on this Story (4 Comments)
E. Catherine Tobler has never been carried away by a selkie but figures there's still time! Among others, her short fiction has appeared in Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, and on the Theodore Sturgeon Memorial Award ballot. This story marks her ninth appearance in BCS! The fifth Egyptian steampunk adventure in her Folley & Mallory series arrives later this year. Follow her on Twitter @ECthetwit or her website, www.ecatherine.com.
"Lady Marmalade" by E. Catherine Tobler
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Jazzlet
| July 28, 2013 at 5:51 pm
Oh,wonder.
| July 31, 2013 at 9:20 am
Very nice, loved the mood of this
| August 15, 2013 at 3:01 pm
Wow...an excellent and eerie bit of storytelling
Award Season
| January 3, 2014 at 4:29 pm
[…] Flesh, The Dark #2 The Sea Half-Held By Night, Dead North Once November, Tales of Jack the Ripper Artificial Nocturne, Beneath Ceaseless Skies By the Book, Lamplight IV Inventing Isaac, Gone Lawn (R+D) / I = M, […]
Background & Cover Art © Tuomas Korpi


text:
A digital thermometer
Tall plastic containers in which I can soak chicken pieces in buttermilk (for Southern Fried Chicken, which I have never been able to make very well.)
Large plastic containers in which to dredge chicken and pork in flour. Also for storage.
An iron skillet
A cooling rack
An aluminum cookie sheet because I shouldn't use non-stick when broiling
Splatter guards
Silicon spatula
Separate cutting boards for vegetables and meats
An oven thermometer
A fry thermometer
The only indication my cooking has improved is the fact I no longer get sick eating my own cooking.
If I can get behind with my TiVo-watching, there's little to say — if any at all — about my DVD viewing. I'm not the kind of person who just throws in a DVD on a weekend. I'm usually pre-occupied with some kind of work that ties me to the computer. As a result, I get more entertainment from my media player than I do from the DVD player.
That doesn't stop me from buy the occasional DVD from time to time. It doesn't mean I actually get to watch them.
So I figure I may as well make a list of DVDs I own but have yet to open. I'm including movies as well. At some point, perhaps I'll crack them open and revisit what made me like that particular story in the first place.
These days, I pretty much watch Law & Order: Special Victims Unit to see if Mike Doyle makes a guest appearance. I also like when Phillip P. Keene gets a scene in The Closer. Well, After Elton linked to a short interview with Keene, where he reveals he's gay and has a partner of 15 years. Oh, he just got hotter for me.
I'm enough of an Alton Brown fan to catch his short-run series, Feasting on Asphalt, but I can't say AB's trips across the country and up the Mississippi River really engaged me all that much. But I'm absolutely digging the third incarnation of the series, Feasting on Waves.
With the other two series, you essentially had fat Americans frying shit to holy hell. It really got boring after a while. But Feasting on Waves actually features foods that are new and unknown — indigenous fruits, local cocktails, exotic locales and colorful people. (Or people of color, for that matter.)
I find that far more interesting. If anything, Feasting on Waves is much like Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations, minus the hard-boiled tone, plus AB's self-deprecating humor.
If AB never travels across the US for the next installment of this series, it will be too soon. (Although Feasting on Waves II ought to focus on Hawaiʻi.) I'm wondering, though, if a trip through Mexico or Canada is the next order of business.
Follow _S_A_R_A_H (i.e. the smart house from 'Eureka') on Twitter
My usual reflex when I get a new Twitter follower is to block anyone I don't know personally who has a Twitter slut ratio of at least 2 to 1. The Twitter slut ratio is calculated by dividing the "following" number by the "followers" number. Most new Twitter followers these days are spammers or attention whores trying to sucker users with low internal bullshit detection meters into following them.
(I don't believe it's proper Twitter etiquette to follow anyone who follows you. I do believe it's proper Twitter usage to follow people you genuinely want to follow.)
Today, I said I didn't want to return the Season 2 DVD set of Eureka I bought impulsively last week. I need the cash though, and maybe when I'm a little more flush, I'll reinvest.
Then a Twitter user named _S_A_R_A_H started following me. I was about ready to block _S_A_R_A_H when I noticed the Twitter slut ratio was roughly 1 to 1. Then I read _S_A_R_A_H's "About Me" info and realized it's the Self Actuated Residential Automated Habitat from Eureka. In other words, it's Sheriff Carter's house! _S_A_R_A_H is following me on Twitter!
OK, this kind of thing would be considered Pepsi Blue on Metafilter, but still — the folks who market Eureka are incredibly clever. For the first season, they spoofed infomercials with products designed in Eureka. Now, an intelligent house is using Twitter to keep in touch with viewers.
I already like the show, but this kind of fan outreach is just cool.
Of course, now I'd feel bad if I returned that Season 2 DVD set.
Viewing habits, or lack thereof
I've seen a lot of press in the news about the effects of the writer's strike. The break in production resulted in a loss of viewership from which the networks have yet to recover. It's tough to keep up with appointment viewing when the appointments have been canceled.
I have to say the break made me re-evaluate my viewing habits. With nothing to watch during the strike, it was easy for me to focus my attention on other endeavors. TiVo also has made it easier to wean myself from anything that isn't absolutely essential, which these days means Battlestar Galactica.
I just spent today catching up on the last four episodes of Brothers & Sisters. The shows have been waiting on my TiVo for a good month now.
Being a TV whore was a lot easier when I didn't have a TiVo to unshackle me from the futon, nor a lengthy hiatus that made me not miss anything at all.
The summer premieres of shows I like don't happen till the middle of July, and I'm now caught up on the fall shows. So it's a good time to review and preview in bullet points.
Too bad 'Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip' sucked
All this presidential election coverage is making me miss The West Wing. Too bad it's not in syndication any more. I do have the DVD sets from Seasons 1-4, though. Maybe a marathon is in order.
Not much of a TV whore if I'm not really watching …
This site is really dead. I could give a whole bunch of reasons, but honestly, the 2007-2008 season has been rather boring. If anything, the writer's strike was probably the only drama worth following this entire season. And TiVo makes it too easy to feed the apathy — why sit in front of the TV if I'm not in the mood to watch something in real time?
The only show to which I was truly addicted was Bleach, a Japanese anime shown on [adult swim], but it ran out of dubbed episodes many months back. I had to resort to finding fan subs from the Evil Sharing Networks to get my fix. (I finished the Soul Society Arc, but I figure I'll wait to start a new storyline when [adult swim] catches up.)
So between a lackluster season and disruptive labor disputes, I've had no incentive to blog about TV. That's not to say I'm shutting down this site. No, I think instead I'll wait to see what happens next season. For now, I'm sitting the rest of this television cycle out.
What little I had to say about this season can be expressed in various bullet points.
Knee-jerk reactions: 2007 fall season
I just wanted to jot some notes down. As if I have the luxury of time to write a real entry for this site:
Law & Order: Special Victims Unit Get rid of Adam Beach and bring back Mike Doyle, please.
Desperate Housewives Still can't fucking stand Gaby and Susan. I kind of liked how they were softening Edie last season, but oh well — it was nice when it lasted. I think the Season Pass is going to get removed at some point.
Law & Order: Criminal Intent This show is still CSIzed, but at least it's not as heavy-handed as last season.
Bleach Goddamn, I hate the Don Kanonji episodes.
Dirty Sexy Money I should care about a bunch of bored rich white people, why?
Pushing Daisies Could have sworn I programmed the pilot to be recorded.
Chuck So far my favorite new show, even if Matthew Bomer is shown only in passing.


Note: We only have half-hour data today.
NBC and FOX tied for number one with adults 18-49, while CBS led with total viewers.
On ABC, the Saturday premiere of Zero Hour scored a 0.4 adults 18-49 rating down 60 percent from a 1.0 on February 28. A second episode at 9PM earned a 0.3 adults 18-49 rating down 70 percent from a 1.0 on February 28. Your predictions were too optimistic.
On FOX, MLB Baseball notched a preliminary 0.5 down 29 percent rom last week's preliminary 0.7 adults 18-49 rating.
Next articleNetwork TV Press ReleasesWill Anthony Head Make 'Warehouse 13' His Own?


text:
namespace extensions {
class Extension;

// Parses the "page_launcher" manifest key.
class PageLauncherHandler : public ManifestHandler {
 public:
  PageLauncherHandler();
  virtual ~PageLauncherHandler();

  virtual bool Parse(Extension* extension, string16* error) OVERRIDE;

 private:
  virtual const std::vector<std::string> Keys() const OVERRIDE;

  DISALLOW_COPY_AND_ASSIGN(PageLauncherHandler);
};
}  // namespace extensions

#endif  // CHROME_COMMON_EXTENSIONS_API_PAGE_LAUNCHER_PAGE_LAUNCHER_HANDLER_H_

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Q: ERR_BLOCKED_BY_CSP In Iframe Of Itch Io.Game I've Making My Website When I Receive A Error On The Iframe, "ERR_BLOCKED_BY_CSP"
It's On Jekyll When I Use The Iframe Of My Game Play Pong Game 0.0.5 alpha on itch.io Or Play IsaacJS Breakout 0.0.1 on itch.io

A: What does blocked:csp mean? You may be seeing blocked:csp in Chrome developer tools when the browser is trying to load a resource. It might show up in the status column as (blocked:csp) CSP stands for Content Security Policy, and it is a browser security mechanism.
Referance:


The Indirect method means that the heat is placed either to one side or both sides of the food. You will use the indirect method for foods that take longer than 25 minutes or are so delicate that the direct exposure to the heat source would dry them out or scorch them.
Open the lid of your gas grill and make sure all control knobs are in the off position.
Light each burner individually, from left to right, following the owners guide instructions for your grill model.
Preheat the grill for 15 minutes, or until the grill's thermometer registers 500° to 550°F.
For best results, place roasts, poultry, or large cuts of meat on a roasting rack set inside a disposable heavy-gauge foil pan. For longer cooking times, add water to the drip pan to keep drippings from burning. The drippings can be used to make gravies or sauces.