There are three primary responses to great stress and fear. Fight, flight, and freeze. I'm a balls to the wall fight response, (Shocking, I know lol) and dear Hubs of mine is the epitome of freeze. The excitement of both surviving babies has begun to wane, and now the panic is setting in. Lol.
I'm all: action! Work, all the hours! Save, all the money! Buy all the baby things! Prepare, prepare, prepare!
Hubs is: sleep all the sleep! Hide from all the things! Cut back all the hours! Spend all the money on frivolous fun things! Ignore, procrastinate, forget.
Our differences are what make us a healthy couple, but in times like these where we're racing against the clock to have everything ready, I pretty much want to cry. Lol. This time I understand what Hubs is doing so it's not as scary and stressful as it was with our first Little, but it's still a bit worrisome.
Although, I mean let's be honest here: I'm pregnant. Everything about preparation is going to bother me in some fashion until my babies are safe in my arms. Lol.
Babies!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!! Two new Little's to snuggle in just a few short months. Four teeny little feet to tickle, two little noses to "boop", four little hands to hold… So okay, the excitement hasn't waned much for me, but after seeing the babies on the ultrasound yesterday Hubs is having some trouble processing. Can't exactly be mad at him for that. Lol.


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The sea can be a cruel mistress, and a mother's love can be blind. In her short story, writer and journalist Krupa Ge invites readers to a world of motherly affection and a marriage made in the wrong kind of paradise.
1. Mary woke up with the biggest smiles this morning.
2. If you know Mary, you will know why Laranse is wary of her smile.
Marie had spent all her childhood dreaming of getting the hell out of the little big fishing village, the one that housed the oldest inhabitants of the island. Its proud men and women wore it as a badge of honor, their property of both land and sea. No other people could claim what they could, they could circumvent the laws of a nation of the greatest. powerful forces that had nothing less than nuclear weapons in their possession. They had done it. No coastal law intended for others applied to them; they had established the first claim on the seas and its sands, and the proud nation had put its tail between its legs and allowed them to claim it, although at times it looked away when the navy of the not-so-friendly neighboring nation pulled their men down for trespassing in the disputed waters.
Mary wanted to live as far from the water as possible, however; wanted to wash this wet trail from her skin, her hair, her very being. She was sure of one thing, she would not marry a man who sailed. She would marry a man with a regular employment. Any job that didn't involve waking up before the sun and crashing into the waves. It didn't mean one day never to come back from the ocean, swallowed up by the vast empty blue, as had happened to his father; the neighbor's warship had crashed into his small mechanized craft and drowned him in pieces.
Laranse was the kind of man who wanted to be buried at sea. Not only was he proud of his profession, but he was also mind, body and soul, in love, in love, in love with the ocean. She was the only woman he bowed to, he said, he'd heard the cheesy dialogue in a dubbed movie. About death, like his father, he didn't care, but when he did it was only to say: When I die, I want to be cremated, not buried. I want my ashes in the sea. So I can become one with the ocean. So I can become the ocean. His day began not when he opened his eyes in the morning, but when he pushed his boat, the wind whipping his almost naked body, his feet grainy with salt and sand. And it ended with a meal of the ocean in your mouth. Their was a match made in the wrong kind of heaven. When his mother came home to ask for Mary's hand, she had said that her son would give up sailing altogether. She had also said that he had a big job coming up at the Electricity Commission.
You can move further inland to where my brother-in-law has a house, she lied.
You old bull-headed beast, liar, Mary has run into curses, looking north to the sky, every morning, hugging, kneeling on the ground. This poor woman had no choice but to lie for her son.
Laranse had returned home one night after seeing this angel of a young girl with the green nose hairpin on the shore. She was gracefully plump, draped in a half yellow sari, her hair in a single long braid, a few scattered strands framing her face. From a distance, standing on his boat, he had seen her. Like that Kanyakumari whose nose stud guided the lost to shore, Mary had brought Laranse home. He told his mother that he would not give him heirs if they did not come from Mary's womb. After arranging the wedding as on order, her mother passed away, to join her husband and, according to Mary, watched the entertainment from afar as the fireworks unfolded in this tiny house.
Laranse paid the price for Mary's disappointment the very day after her marriage. As she ran out, ignorant but also smirking at the insinuations made by the virginal and rowdy neighborhood girls – who had been lying awake all night listening to the sounds of their marital bliss – he stepped out behind. she, smoking a cigarette, looking smart, her tight t-shirt hugging her muscular chest and her shorts, a little shorter than she liked, enveloped her spectacular thighs. She had assumed that her new husband had come to see her and walked over to him to stop halfway as he rushed into the sea, pushing his boat inside.
It was then that she noticed the other men with Laranse. They had all filed together. Laranse looked happy, singing, talking to the ocean, as if she was the mistress he couldn't wait to find again; this precious mistress, Mary wanted to cry, was sure to kill him one day, as she had done with other men. Cyclones could beat them to death as governments wrung their hands, unable even to return the bodies lost to the Gulf; that miserable black wall from the tsunami could happen even when everything seemed calm; let's say they learned, as they had done for thousands of years, to bypass distant rains, winds and earthquakes as well, how could they ever predict the routes of bullets? The sea only made her anxious and over the years every happy memory had been replaced by thoughts of death, a morbid, cruel death that straddled the waves, furious like a truck without brakes.
his new husband ignoring his mother's promises he had gone to work for the day and when he returned with his catch Mary refused to go out and sell. You lied to me. I will have my revenge when I die. You wait and see, she said looking north, kneeling, hugging, again and again. She wouldn't show him her anger, she hadn't yet figured out if he was the punching type, it was too soon. So she took refuge in these imaginary reprimands. Her mother wasn't going to come back from the grave to defend herself anyway. Laranse did not come to the aid of his mother either. He was happy in a way that he didn't have to deal with the mess she had made.
3. So you now know why Laranse is suspicious of his new wife's new mirth. He didn't even go out to sea. He sat all day by the boat, smoking and drinking toddy.
Could she? Would she have? he wondered. That damn oracle ruined my head, he kicked the sand.
He was alone by the shore one weekday, waiting for the clouds to pass. And there she was out of nowhere, this woman with a wand in her hand, her hair in a bun, a giant red dot on her forehead, her face shining golden yellow, as if she had bathed in rays. morning, draped in a dark red sari. To predict his future.
You are a good young man, you are. Amma tells me that you are a good husband. A faithful man, indeed. Amma also predicts that someone who hates you all day and all night is living nearby. Be careful… don't believe her, yes, Amma tells me it's a woman. Don't trust your life with this woman. She is here to get
my boy, you can't win with her. Stay out of danger, stay out of his way.
With that and two pimps as payment, she was gone.
Krupa Ge is a Madras-based writer. She is the author of What We Know About Her (Context), which was shortlisted for the JCB Prize for Literature 2021, and Rivers Remember (Context)
Bangladesh economy will be 24th in 2036, CEBR says

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


2 Drain the cooling system as described in Chapter 1.
3 Remove the air cleaner assembly and carburettor(s) as described in Sections 2 and 9.
4 Where applicable, disconnect the brake servo vacuum hose from the manifold (see illustration).
5 Disconnect the coolant hoses from the manifold together with any cable clips and support brackets.
6 Unbolt the manifold, releasing any additional attachments as necessary and remove it from the cylinder head (see illustration).
Where fitted, recover the gasket or seals.
7 Refitting is a reversal of removal, bearing in mind the following points: a) Ensure that the manifold and cylinder head mating faces are perfectly clean and use a new gasket or seals on models so equipped. On TU engines apply a thin coating of suitable sealing compound to the manifold mating face before fitting - no gasket is used on these engines.
b) Ensure that all hoses are reconnected to their original positions and are securely held by their retaining clips.
c) Refit the carburettor(s) and air cleaner assembly as described in Sections 9 and 2.
d) On completion, refill the cooling system as described in Chapter 1.


EffectiveSoft has released Intellexer Summarizer 2.0. The latest version is equipped with new features aimed to improve quality of summarization and customizability.
- Besides theme- and structure-oriented summaries the program can produce concept-oriented summaries. The user can check the concepts in the concept tree which they find most important or useful. The summary will be rearranged accordingly. Semantic weight of the checked concepts gets increased, and as a result sentences that comprise these concepts are ranked higher and have greater probability to be included into a summary.
- The search tool is now available. Each concept of the summary serves as a summary keyword. The user can use the search tool to quickly find a necessary summary among those that have been saved to History.
- Besides integrating into standard Microsoft Office applications Intellexer Summarizer 2.0 can be integrated into Internet Explorer. The Intellexer Summarizer Bar appears as of the IE toolbars. It allows the user to summarize a currently loaded web page on the fly without switching to another application.
- The color theme of the Summarizer can be changed by the user according to their preferences. The installed skins are Octopus Garden, Safari, Mint & Citrus, and Fuchsia. Besides, the user can design their own theme and use it.
All those new features are true for Summarizer Standard and Pro. Summarizer Lite remains a lighter version and only upgraded with color theme and concept filter options. All three versions are available on the Intellexer Summarizer website.
Since its foundation in 2003 Effective Soft has been among leading European software development companies specializing in semantic solutions for knowledge and document management. EffectiveSoft is a developer and sole proprietor of Intellexer that is a family of software solutions based on natural language processing platform.


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Gulf of Mexico Gulf of Mexico
The Deepwater Horizon oil rig explosion on April 20, 2010, killed 11 people and resulted in the nation's largest offshore oil spill. Gerald Herbert/AP hide caption
BP To Pay $18.7 Billion To Settle Gulf Coast Oil Spill Claims
July 2, 2015 • The agreement with the U.S. government, five Gulf Coast states and more than 400 local governments comes five years after the Deepwater Horizon spill.
Judge Denies BP's Attempt To Avoid Up To $18 Billion In Fines
November 14, 2014 • Last month, the company asked the judge to reconsider a ruling that could trigger fines under the Clean Water Act. And on Thursday, he said no. The company says it will appeal.
Shell's Olympus production platform and drilling rig is located about 130 miles south of New Orleans. It is 406 feet tall and weighs more than 120,000 tons. Jeff Brady/NPR hide caption
Up Close And Personal With A 40-Story Oil Rig In The Gulf
August 6, 2014 • The Gulf of Mexico accounts for more than 20 percent of U.S. domestic oil production. But few see these operations far offshore.
An image provided by NOAA taken at 2:45 a.m. EDT Sunday shows Hurricane Ingrid approaching from the Gulf of Mexico and Tropical Storm Manuel just off the western coast of Mexico. AP hide caption
Mexico Faces A One-Two Punch From Tropical Storms
September 15, 2013 • From the east and the west, two storm systems are closing in on Mexico, bringing strong winds and heavy rains. Hurricane Ingrid is moving toward the country's east coast in the Gulf of Mexico; Tropical Storm Manuel is closing in on the southwest coast in the Pacific Ocean.
The out-of-control natural gas well in the Gulf of Mexico on Wednesday after it blew out and caught fire. U.S. Coast Guard via AP hide caption
Fire Going Out, Gas Leak Blocked At Gulf Of Mexico Rig
July 25, 2013 • No one was hurt when the crew lost control of the rig on Tuesday and a fire followed. It looks like sediment and sand helped stop gas from escaping, robbing fuel from the fire in the process.
Before a blaze broke out, a cloud of gas could be seen rising Tuesday from the Hercules 265 drilling rig off the coast of Louisiana. Bureau of Safety and Environmental Enforcement hide caption
Bureau of Safety and Environmental Enforcement
Gas Well On Fire After Blowout In Gulf Of Mexico
July 24, 2013 • A blowout on Tuesday forced 44 workers to evacuate. Later, a blaze broke out. Officials say the damage to the environment should not come close to that caused by the 2010 Deepwater Horizon accident.
The shrimp boat Endless Grind trawls for shrimp off Dauphin Island, Ala., in May 2012. Dave Martin/AP hide caption
Dave Martin/AP
Shrimp Trawling Comes With Big Risks
March 7, 2013 • Commercial fishermen have the highest rate of on-the-job fatalities of any occupation in the country. The winches that shrimpers use to pull in their nets pose particular hazards, an analysis of deaths and injuries finds.
Sept. 2005: Hurricane Rita enters the Gulf of Mexico — or Gulf of America, as Mississippi House Rep. Stephen Holland would say. NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center Scientific Visualization Studio hide caption
NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center Scientific Visualization Studio
Call It 'Gulf Of America,' Not Gulf Of Mexico, Lawmaker Says In Bit Of Satire
February 9, 2012 • Democratic Rep. Stephen Holland has introduced a bill in the state House to change the name of the gulf. It's a satirical shot aimed at his Republican colleagues, he says. Stephen Colbert had the idea before him.
September 15th: What's On Today's Show
September 15, 2011 • In the first hour of Talk of the Nation, debt crisis in Europe, and the environmental state of the Gulf. In the second hour, writing your life story at the end of your life, and what the Jackie Kennedy tapes reveal about the former first lady.
U.S. pork is among the products Mexico hit with new tariffs because of a long-running, NAFTA-related trucking dispute. WILL KINCAID/AP hide caption
WILL KINCAID/AP
Mexico Slaps New Tariffs On U.S. Pork Etc Over Trucking Dispute
August 18, 2010 • Mexico placed new tariffs on U.S. pork and other products as part of its continuing NAFTA-related trucking dispute with its north of the border neighbor. The Teamsters continue to oppose Mexican trucks operating in the U.S.
Obama On Capped Oil Gusher: 'A Positive Sign'
July 15, 2010 • A reserved Obama greets news that BP capped the Gulf of Mexico oil gusher.
More from Gulf of Mexico


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Kojima discusses some of his favorite characters in the Metal Gear series
March 23, 2014 | News | 4 Comments
In an interview with IGN, Hideo Kojima talked about his favorite characters in the Metal Gear series.
The first should not be a surprise: Snake. This is the character closest to Kojima. He has been in every Metal Gear game since the beginning, and throughout the years his backstory grew.
Kojima also mentions Otacon. Even though he is not very heroic, like Snake, Kojima thinks his role in the series is very important. He also feels this is probably the most relatable character for those who play the Metal Gear games.
Kojima explained he always designs boss battles with two things in mind: how will the player fight them, and how will they fit into the story?
From Metal Gear Solid 1, Kojima likes Vulcan Raven a lot. He likes how the boss battle turned out. After being defeated by Snake, he still keeps standing, and never kneels down.
In Metal Gear Solid 1, you face ever stronger bosses as you progress, but then you come across Psycho Mantis, a skinny, 'bondage' character. You may first wonder how he is stronger than the others, but his power comes from his psychic abilities.
In Metal Gear Solid 3, the player faces The End, a legendary sniper. Kojima initially wanted the battle to last two weeks, but the staff advised against this idea.
In the same game, there was also The Sorrow. The fight against him was unique, because he was a ghost, a boss that did not exist, and the player has to defeat him by bringing himself back to life.
You can watch the entire interview for yourself below.
Source: IGN UK


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Oxide Interactive
This Software Engineer position at Oxide is Derrick's first job in the games industry, and he is very excited to get started working in this field! Before this position, he was working for an energy company, and before that he was doing research in biophysics at Cornell University as part of his graduate studies. Outside of work, you might find him playing or composing music, or cooking, or of course playing games of all kinds.
© 2023 Oxide Interactive | Privacy


The annual Festival Song Competition, one of the highlights of Jamaica's Emancipation and Independence celebrations, will return in 2018.
This was announced by Culture, Gender, Entertainment and Sport Minister, Hon. Olivia Grange, who indicated that in the absence of this year's staging, the Ministry is producing a commemorative album featuring a compilation of past entries not making it to the winners' enclosure.
Meanwhile Ms. Grange advised that in a bid to improve on the quality of the songs submitted, beginning next year, workshops will be held islandwide for prospective entrants prior to selections being made.
She was speaking recently with JIS News at her office on Trafalgar Road in New Kingston.
She explained that this is intended to assist budding artistes to improve their stagecraft, writing of lyrics and composition of melodies, as well as learning the basics in music theory, adding that established performers will also be encouraged to participate.
"Those workshops will expose Jamaicans, particularly the young people, to certain training and packaging that is necessary when you are going to go to the public and display your craft or your talent," the Minister said.
"The concept of the festival song competition is to find that song that will be a call to action…that song that would make man, woman and child rock to the music…that song that will be on the lips of everybody," she emphasized.
In this regard, Ms. Grange said individuals who submitted entries this year will be also invited to participate in the workshops.
The inaugural Festival Song Competition was held in 1966, with the group, Toots and The Maytals, copping the honours with their seminal composition titled – 'Bam Bam'.


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Environmentalism is anti-biblical and anti-humanist civilizational suicide
Posted on 7. Oct 2020 by medforth
by Giulio Meotti
It was 1969 when the leader of the British Labor parliamentary group, Douglas Houghton, called for state intervention to discourage births by reducing assistance and subsidies for large families, while Lord Sorensen declared: "We must encourage sterilizations".Meanwhile, Paul Ehrlich, a Stanford University biologist and author of "The population bomb", predicted poverty and famine for England at a symposium at the London Institute of Biology: "If I were a player, I would bet that England will no longer exist in the year 2000 and ten to one that the standard of living of the average Englishman will be below the current one".Fifty years past 1969, life expectancy in England has increased by ten years and the standard of living has undergone a radical upward transformation. Yet, the idea that population decreasing action is needed to reduce environmental impact is still at the root of all the green anthropophobic cries, including the eco-fascism of the two bombers in Christchurch, New Zealand and in El Paso, Texas.
Now billboards are appearing in many North American cities, from Vancouver to Minneapolis, at bus stops as well as along highways. A smiling child watches the commuters. And below, the announcement says: "The greatest loving gift you can give to your first child is not having another one". It is part of a series of advertisements (another says that "conservation begins at conception") financed by the World Population Balance, an ecological organization in the United States. Dave Gardner, the director, says he supports an "ethical, humanitarian and voluntary" solution to overpopulation. And it is propaganda that works.
A Morning Consult poll for the New York Times shows that one-third of men and women between the ages of 20 and 45 cite climate change as a factor in their decision to have children or not. The Morning Consult data also finds that 11 percent of childless adults say climate change is the "main reason" they didn't want it.
"Congestion begins at conception" announces another manifesto for an eco-sustainable one-child. Traffic and fire images are used. The message is clear: have children and you will increase the queues on the streets and the risk of natural disasters. The "child free" section, on the other hand, is seductive: young couples without children, hugging, kissing, enjoying outings.
The proponents say they are in favor of a "drastic and voluntary reduction in births". And if that doesn't work, biologist Ehrlich always has the next step ready. Taxing baby products ("cribs, diapers, games, baby food"), flooding schools with sex education, making access to abortion even easier and Chinese-style sterilization campaigns with implants, mandatory there for Ughur women, that prevent births.
Current environmentalism, which is based on an anti-Biblical and post-humanist vision, is pure civilizational suicide. Birth rates are already falling all over the West, Canada, Europe, America. The West is not overpopulated at all. But environmentalists are fine with that. They are pro mass immigration from Africa, where birth rates are surging and which is coming to Europe.
They don't dream of an empty planet, but of a post-Western one. Where the Statue of Liberty is submerged on the beach.
http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/288538
1 thought on "Environmentalism is anti-biblical and anti-humanist civilizational suicide"
boudicabpi on 7. Oct 2020 at 13:27 said:


Always remember that formal wrist watches for men should ideally feature Roman numerals or stick indices and Gold Watches for Men. Formal men's watches also look more elegant with basic functionality features. If the watch case is of a precious metal such as platinum, gold or a gold alloy, it has to be a formal watch.
Sports watches for men feature chronograph details or can be in the form of water-resistant or diver's watches. Pick up trendy Timex, Casio, Seiko, and Citizen Watches in a silver finish and match them with black sneakers.
You do not have to hunt for a watch showroom to find your perfect timepiece. Shop online at Downunderwatches.com to find the widest collection of men's branded watches. And choose from an exciting range of options. There is downunderwatches for the Aussie hunks to take care of.


Last night I found my self uninspired… I purchased a brand new bag, and felt like nothing in my closet was good enough!
Found this amazing out fit from one of my friends boards! I started thinking I need to put my own selfie collection together! So her it is! Hope it's inspiring.
He naturally challenges my style choices!
He also takes my selfie plus one!
It wasn't until today that I understood, fashion is more than a formula. Each person has different gifts and my family has been blessed with gift of style.
If you follow my Tumblr then you know I love Road Trip style!
He calls himself the denim clad warrior he's my hero!
I'm still not sure how we got this way.
Even in the form of shoulder pads !
He actually did this hair color, then plus oned my selfie!
Up my nose selfie plus one.
Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!
I think that's all I can give you tonight, but don't forget one thing. We laugh a lot, we look horrible often, and we do not take ourselves as seriously as you do! You can't fail at fashion, but change your outfit!
Most Interesting Man in the World!
I love his Face check him out!


All of us face temptations time to time, at varying degree, and in different areas. I've faced a reasonable amount of battles in my own life – some of which I won gloriously and others, which I lost miserably.
With the little experience I do have, I would like to share three things that I found most helpful in scoring a home run. They are helpful in overcoming the temptations that come your way.
2) Run to your daddy – Your spiritual one that is. Satan doesn't like you going to your daddy for help. He knows very well that you're well protected under the "shadow of the almighty". From the scriptures, we all know what Jesus did when He was at His weakest point – He got away from the crowd and prayed to His father. This is what we ought to do. Keep praying…never give up…we will be victorious just like Jesus. We have a father who cares for us and loves us more than we can ever imagine.
3) Meditate on His word and know when to use it – The psalmist writes of a blessed man. It says, "He meditates on His word day and night". It's easy to get caught up with work and family but that's when we are the most forgetful – not just of meditating on God's word but also on who holds the power. God gave us power. We are His sons and daughters. We must learn to use what is rightfully ours. Jesus rebuked the devil when he was tempted. We ought to do the same.
I hope these three secrets will help you live a victorious life. May God bless you and keep you.


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«Sound of the Underground» (en castellano: Sonidos del Subterráneo) es el primer sencillo de la banda femenina británica-irlandesa Girls Aloud, incluido en el disco debut que lleva el mismo nombre.

La canción fue escrita por Miranda Cooper, Brian Higgins y Niara Scarlett. Fue producida por Higgins y su equipo productor Xenomania. Tras la formación de Girls Aloud el 30 de noviembre de 2002, en el programa de telerrealidad del canal de televisión británico ITV1 Popstars: The Rivals, la canción fue lanzada 16 días después, el 16 de diciembre, y entró en las listas de éxitos británicas en el puesto nº 1 y permaneció en esa posición durante cuatro semanas consecutivas, con las que ganaron un disco de platino por la British Phonographic Industry.

El vídeo musical fue filmado días después de que se formara el grupo, en un almacén vacío de Londres. La canción fue interpretada por la banda en una serie de presentaciones en vivo, incluyendo Popstars: The Rivals y cada una de las giras de conciertos del grupo. La crítica elogió la yuxtaposición de guitarra con surf en contra de ritmos electrónicos. El tema fue elogiado por su originalidad, tanto para un grupo de chicas salida de un programa de telerrealidad. La canción fue un revulsivo importante y decisivo en la primera década del siglo XXI, y supuso una remodelación del pop británico de esas fechas.

Antecedentes y composición
La canción fue descrita como un desfile mecanizado entre una guitarra con sonidos surf con las voces gangosas y sensuales de 'Girls Aloud', siendo una explosión de Kylie Minogue en cinco cabezas.

La canción está escrita en mi bemol menor al tiempo de una firma de tiempo en tiempo común y un ritmo de 163 pulsaciones por minuto, con un rango vocal de G3 a D5. La progresión de acordes varía a lo largo de las diferentes secciones de la canción, pero los acordes específicos que se utilizan son Am, C, D, E, Em y G, siguiendo la típica forma de verso-estribillo, la canción se compone de un verso seguido de un puente y estribillo. El puente también se emplea como un medio 8 o bridge.

Sound of the Underground fue una de las 60 canciones que Brian Higgins y Miranda Cooper habían escrito con el objetivo de lanzar su propio grupo de chicas. La canción fue grabada originalmente en 2001 por Orchid, un grupo de chicas de Londres que incluyó a la cantante y actriz Louise Griffiths, pero se disolvió antes de obtener un contrato discográfico.
La canción también fue pensada para la cantante irlandesa Samantha Mumba pero ésta decidió tomar I'm Right Here, y fue entonces cuando Louis Walsh, quien en ese momento era el representante de Girls Aloud quien elegiría la canción como el primer sencillo de las chicas. A pesar de que la banda está conformada por cinco chicas, fueron seis  quienes ensayaron esta canción, una semana antes de la final de Popstars: The Rivals.

Lanzamiento
El grupo se formó el 30 de noviembre de 2012 en el programa de ITV1 Popstars: The Rivals. Este programa vería la creación de dos grupos rivales, una banda masculina y otra femenina, cada una conformada por cinco miembros, los cuales competirían entre ellos para ocupar el primer puesto en la tabla de sencillos navideños del Reino Unido. Las chicas iniciaron una gran campaña con el eslogan Buy girls, bye boys, utilizado para vender este sencillo. One True Voice, quienes lanzaron Sacred Trust, quedaron en segundo lugar lo cual convirtió a las chicas en ganadoras del concurso televisivo. Una versión de Sacred Trust aparece en las canciones extras de Girls Aloud's Greatest Hits Album The Sound of Girls Aloud, el cual incluye un desglose instrumental.

El sencillo fue lanzado en dos formatos de 2 CD individuales y en casete. El primer CD incluye una versión de East 17: Stay Another Day y la remezcla de Brian Higgins de Sound of the Underground, mientras que el segundo CD incluye el instrumental de Stay Another Day y una entrevista con las chicas.

El sencillo también salió a la venta en otros países, pero éstos venían solo con un lado A que incluía la remezcla.

Controversia
Pete Waterman, exrepresentante de One True Voice, causó un frenesí en los medios después de acusar a Girls Aloud de ser poco originales y no cantar en Sound of the Underground (después de que dijo que era mejor lanzar una canción nueva que una versión como cara A). Muchos artículos afirmaron falsamente que esta pista era un plagio de Orchid por parte de las chicas. Pero fue explicado que la canción era propiedad de Xenomania, y éstos vendieron sus derechos al equipo de Girls Aloud. Debido a la atención de la prensa, los miembros de Orchid se acreditan en el lanzamiento del sencillo y se mantienen copias de seguridad de las versiones del mismo. Sarah Harding explicó que esto solo le da fuerza al sencillo y no es raro en la industria. Girls Aloud cantó Sound of the Underground, solo están en promoción para decir que ellos la cantaron, es basura de Pete Waterman para sabotear el lanzamiento.

Recepción
Sound of the Underground recibió una respuesta positiva por gran parte de la crítica probando en primer lugar que se trata de una canción pop salida de un programa de telerrealidad que no dan ganas de hacerle daño a todos los involucrados en su creación. Una revisión del álbum debut de Girls Aloud declaró que la canción se ha convertido en un clásico del pop vibrante con un ritmo moderno, metálico, estribillo pegadizo y la cantidad justa de inmoralidad. La canción fue descrita como una atractiva mezcla de guitarras de punta y el 'beat' Fatboy Slim rematado con un estribillo irresistible y atractivo. Un artículo de The Guardian nombra la canción como una confitura helada muy diferente de la marcha normal de una banda de chicas

Esta canción y otra de producción de Xenomania, Round Round de Sugababes, se han denominado como dos grandes éxitos revolucionarios, y se les atribuye la remodelación de la música pop británica de inicios del siglo XXI. Peter Robinson escribió en lugar de que se convirtiera en la balada predecible, se trasformó en una optimista actitud empapada de celebración de la vida, la fiesta y ser joven.

En 2002, la canción fue nominada como Mejor Sencillo en Disney Channel Kids Awards. The Telegraph puso la canción en el número 15 en una lista de 100 canciones que definieron la década de 2000 en la música británica, mientras que NME lo incluyó en el número 39. Spinner.com llamó a Sound of the Underground la octava mejor canción británica de la década de 2000.

Desempeño comercial
Sound of the Underground debutó en el número 1 en el UK Singles Chart el 22 de diciembre de 2002. El grupo vendió un poco más de 213 000 copias, mientras que Sacred Trust de One True Voice solo vendió  147 000. Girls Aloud continuó en el número 1 durante tres semanas más, convirtiéndose en el primer número 1 de 2003, además de lograr mantenerse en el número 1 durante cuatro semanas consecutivas. Estuvo dos semanas en el Top 5 en los números tres y cinco, respectivamente, antes de caer al número nueve. El sencillo pasó catorce semanas adicionales dentro del Top 75 del Reino Unido. Fue certificado disco de platino por la British Phonographic Industry en marzo de 2003. Según The Official UK Charts Company, hasta que la agrupación se disolvió en marzo de 2013, «Sound of the Underground» vendió 653 000 copias en el Reino Unido, donde se convirtió en el sencillo más vendido del quinteto.

La canción tuvo un éxito similar en la lista de sencillos de Irlanda. Sound of the Underground debutó en el número 2 detrás de Lose Yourself de Eminem, mientras que One True Voice solo lograron alcanzar el nº 9. La canción se mantuvo en el nº 2 durante tres semanas. Pero en la semana cuatro logra destronar a Eminem y allí se mantuvo por dos semanas más. La canción también entró en los Top 100 de Bélgica (tanto en la lista de Valonia, la región francófona del país, como en Flandes, la otra región belga, donde se habla neerlandés flamenco), los Países Bajos, otros países de Europa y Australia.

Vídeo musical
El vídeo de Sound of the Underground se rodó en un almacén vació de Londres, pocos días después de la formación de Girls Aloud durante la última semana del programa televisivo. Fue dirigido por Phil Griffin, quien más tarde dirigiría los vídeos de No Good Advice y Life Got Cold. El vídeo empieza con las chicas dentro de un gran cubo metálico apoyadas por una banda. Después ellas incorporan sus micrófonos y empiezan a cantar, haciendo una coreografía que también es incluida en varias presentaciones en vivo; cada una de las chicas también salen en solitario, en varias escenas. Además, hay vistazos a una bombilla fundiéndose, grietas y elementos que le dan esa sensación de espacio underground.

Presentaciones en vivo

Girls Aloud interpretaron la canción por primera vez el 7 de diciembre de 2002 en el programa televisivo. Utilizando los mismos trajes rosados con negro del vídeo musical, las chicas hacían la misma coreografía del vídeo, cada vez que se acercaban al coro una máquina de humo soltaba pequeñas cantidades a presión. Con el fin de promocionar el sencillo, el grupo realizó una gira por varios lugares de todo el Reino Unido, incluyendo una firma en una tienda de HMV en Mánchester. También hicieron muchas apariciones en varios programas de televisión de habla inglesa. Después del 22 de diciembre de 2002 las chicas volvieron a presentarse en el programa de telerrealidad Popstars: The Rivals, donde las anunciaron ganadoras del mismo, obteniendo su primer número 1 en las listas británicas. Esto mismo les dio un puesto para presentarse en el espectáculo navideño Top of the Pops Christmas Special, programa de televisión que se trasmite anualmente en Navidad en la BBC.

Durante gran parte de 2003 las chicas interpretaron esta canción para promoverla en varios festivales como ChildLine Concert en Irlanda. Spring Break, Pepsi Silver Clef, Party in the Park, Live & Loud, y the West Belfast Festival. También para promocionar el sencillo en el resto de Europa (en el continente), se presentaron en los premios TMF de Bélgica e Interaktiv VIVA en Alemania. También ese mismo año las chicas se presentaron en los Disney Channel Kids Awards, en el programa televisivo benéfico Children in Need y, en diciembre, volvieron a tocarla en el Top of the Pops Christmas Special de 2003. En 2004 volvieron al festival irlandés ChildLine e hicieron un especial para MTV donde interpretaron la canción; dicho especial es parte de su DVD Girls on Film.

La canción ha sido interpretada en sus 5 giras, con pequeños ajustes en cada uno. También la han interpretado en festivales como V Festival, Viva la Vida Tour y en el programa especial Girls Aloud Party donde la interpretaron junto a la banda Kaiser Chiefs mezclada con Never Miss a Beat.

Versiones de otros artistas
 The 4 Of Us en Even Better than the Real Thing Vol. 1
 Snuff en Greasy Hair Makes Money.

Formatos y remezclas

UK CD1 / Australia /Nueva zelanda (Polydor / 0658272)
 «Sound of the Underground» — 3:41
 «Stay Another Day» (Tony Mortimer, Rob Kean, Dominic Hawken) — 4:24
 «Sound of the Underground» (Brian Higgins Remix) — 4:40
UK CD2 (Polydor / 0658202)
 «Sound of the Underground» — 3:41
 «Stay Another Day» (Instrumental) — 4:24
 Girls Aloud Interview — 7:13
Alemania  (Polydor / 0654325)
 «Sound of the Underground» — 3:41
 «Stay Another Day» — 4:24
 «Sound of the Underground» (Brian Higgins Remix) — 4:40
 «Sound of the Underground» (Flip & Fill Remix) — 5:36
 Girls Aloud Interview — 7:13

The Singles Boxset (CD1)
 «Sound of the Underground» — 3:41
 «Stay Another Day» — 4:24
 «Sound of the Underground» (Brian Higgins Remix) — 4:40
 «Stay Another Day» (Instrumental) — 4:24
 Girls Aloud Interview — 7:13
 «Sound of the Underground» (Flip & Fill Remix) — 5:36
 «Sound of the Underground» (Instrumental Breakdown Mix) — 3:36

Créditos y personal
 Girls Aloud: voz principal.
 Shawn Lee: guitarra eléctrica.
 Brian Higgins, Xenomania composición, producción, grabación, instrumentación, edición e ingeniería.
 Miranda Cooper, Brian Higgins y Niara Scarlett: escritores.
 Jeremy Wheatley for 365 Artists: mezcla.
 Nick Coler, Matt Gray, Tim Rolf Larcombe, Tim Powell: programador y mezclas.
 Publicado por Warner y Xenomania Music.
 Agradecimientos: Eve Bicker, Giselle Sommerville y Louise Griffiths.

Posicionamiento en listas

<center>

Certificaciones

Referencias

Sencillos número uno en Reino Unido
Canciones de 2002
Sencillos de Girls Aloud
Canciones en inglés
Sencillos de 2002
Sencillos de pop
Canciones de pop
Canciones de Girls Aloud
Girls Aloud

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


To give all children a great experience with music, it's best to choose instruments that are age-appropriate for the size and development of their bodies. Because a trombone is larger and requires lung capacity, it is best to wait until your child is 9 years old. Your child needs to be able to hold and manipulate the instrument and have adequate breath support. Choose from individual lessons and shared lessons, camps, create-your-own ensembles, and much more. For questions, contact us at 612-321-0100 or contact@macphail.org.
See all of our offerings for trombone below.


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TK-4 has been deployed by the US Marine Corps, US Special Forces, and numerous law enforcement and emergency services as a quick way to control severe hemorrhaging while minimizing size and weight.
Band Size: 3" x 40"


Diligent Achievers With Needs (D.A.W.N.) was first inspired in the 2005-06 school year by co-founder Dawn Head. Head, an enthusiastic and extremely diligent student was part of the first graduating class of John Hay Early College High School. Wanda Thomas, board president, founder and Head's mother took an active role in assisting her children to access scholarship funds as they prepared to embark on their college careers. As Thomas began working with guidance counselors and other high school students to research existing scholarship opportunities, she quickly realized that many of their parents were of modest means and had difficulty accessing scholarship funding.
Despite how uninformed some of the parents were regarding scholarship opportunities, Thomas saw how resourceful the students were and it moved her deeply. She wanted to serve as a beacon of hope for these students in a way that would make a meaningful impact in their lives. Thomas decided that while helping them access scholarships would indeed be helpful, providing them with actual funding and life experience would be even better.
At the close of 2005, Thomas began her initiative of awarding students a $500 scholarship per year. In 2006, having the desire to expand the program to include a paid internship, Thomas presented her proposal to Jeff Markle, president of Human Arc. Fascinated with Thomas' vision, Markel agreed to become a sponsor by implementing paid internships at Human Arc for a total of three years per recipient and increasing the original scholarship amount. The sponsorship increased to $4,000 with $1,000 awarded per year and a paid summer internship at $12 per hour. With the commitment of Jeff Markle and Human Arc, the D.A.W.N. scholarship program grew to the next level.
The D.A.W.N. scholarship program established its first partnership with John Hay Early College High School; it later expanded to include the School of Science & Medicine and Architecture & Design.. To generate interest in the scholarship program, Thomas and Head administered presentations to graduating seniors of John Hay at the beginning of their spring semester. They outlined the history of D.A.W.N. application procedures, and the program qualifications. Interested applicants were required to write an essay detailing the importance of receiving the scholarship and how they could be an asset at Human Arc. After essays had been submitted, Thomas and Head would select three to five finalists to be invited to Human Arc for a meet and greet and an interview with the CEO of the company. After the interview, one applicant is selected and named the D.A.W.N. recipient and they celebrate at a congratulatory lunch.


I married Dave Martindale in 1980 and had four great kids. We divorced in 1993. I married Rick Nunes and he and his three kids joined our family. We lost Robby to a drug overdose in 2001 at age 19. It was the hardest thing we've ever had to go through. It was life changing.
I went back to college and earned a degree in Information Management in 2002. I work for the best dental office in the valley-Smile Center-Drs. Ford, Jones and Hillam.
Between Rick and I we have nine grandchildren. They and our children are the best part of our lives.
Vicki Young Nunes has a birthday today.
Nikki Pino posted a message on Vicki Young's Profile.
Vicki! Hope that you have an amazing day! Happy Birthday!


text:
Home / Sports / Football / The search continues: Valdosta State is turning over every stone in its effort to find the right head football coach
The search continues: Valdosta State is turning over every stone in its effort to find the right head football coach
January 25, 2016 Football, Sports, Spring 2016 1 Comment 4,816 Views
JU head football coach Kerwin Bell watches the quarterbacks. The Jacksonville University Dolphin football team held their first practice of the season on Tuesday, August 7, 2012 on campus in Jacksonville, FL. (Florida Times-Union, Bruce Lipsky)
Written by Gabe Burns, Sports Editor
David Dean, the winningest coach in Valdosta State history, will not be winning any games for the Blazers in the foreseeable future.
Dean's departure to Georgia Southern came as a surprise to not just VSU, but to the entire community. As a result, Blazer fans wait with anticipation as the school continues its search for the next headman of VSU football.
The rumors of potential targets have been flying since Dean left to become the offensive coordinator for the Eagles on Jan. 5. Chris Hatcher, the current coach at Samford who enjoyed seven seasons as the Blazers' leader, was a prime candidate, according to Ed Hooper, a VSU alumnus who runs a blog covering Valdosta-area sports. Hatcher coached at VSU from 2000-2006 and collected a 76-12 before departing for Georgia Southern himself.
However, VSU has since moved on to other options, according to Hooper and Valdosta Daily Times Sports Editor Jamie Wachter.
Popular names that have circulated in the rumor mill include Colquitt County coach Rush Propst, Kerwin Bell, formerly of Jacksonville State University and LaGrange College coach Matt Mumme.
The most likely and intriguing name here is Bell. According to FootballScoop.com, Bell is "still in" the competition to be named the coach.
Bell is the winningest coach in the history of Jacksonville State, but the Dolphins let him go over "philosophical differences" after nine years in charge.
Bell was a quarterback at the University of Florida and was drafted by the Miami Dolphins in the seventh round of the 1988 NFL draft. He also spent time with the Indianapolis Colts, Tampa Bay Buccaneers and Atlanta Falcons in his playing career before becoming a graduate assistant at UF in 1990.
Bell interviewed for the offensive coordinator position at Florida in 2011 and has gathered plenty of interest from other universities during his JSU tenure. With Bell at the helm, the Dolphins were 66-35 with two Pioneer League Championships.
Propst has been a hot name locally because of his recent success in Moultrie, where the Packers have won two-straight state titles. Propst told Hooper he wouldn't leave Colquitt for "another high school job." That comment piqued the interest of fans, and while Propst has expressed some level of interest in the position, it remains an unlikely hiring.
Mumme is the son of former Blazers coach Hal. Hal Mumme, who also coached at Kentucky, is highly-regarded nationally for his innovative work with the Air-Raid offense. His disciples have fared well over the course of their careers, and Matt has already made an impact at LaGrange College offensively.
Defensively, the Panthers have left much to be desired. A defense that surrendered 38 points per game dropped LaGrange's record from 5-5 in 2014 to 2-7 in 2015. That lackluster performance could cool VSU's interest.
While the Panthers have yet to post a stellar record, the team has set several of its own offensive records in Mumme's two seasons. With VSU's past emphasis on familiarity, Mumme still makes for a logical target.
With such a wide-casted net of candidates, athletic director Herb Reinhard has taken his time to make sure that VSU brings in the right man for the job.
"I am confident that we will find the right person to continue to build on our rich tradition of success at Valdosta State," Reinhard said in a statement.
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Woody Allen is quoted as saying 80% of success is showing up. He was referring to people who wanted to accomplish something such as write a novel, a screenplay, etc. His argument was, that if they actually did the thing, they would more than half way towards something good happening.
This statement doesn't just apply to lofty goals, yet also to those small everyday successes. Just show up.
If I show up to the gym, I will do SOME exercise.
If I show up to that after work networking event, I'm likely to meet at least ONE person beneficial to my career.
If I show up to the neighborhood barbecue, I might meet a neighbor that I had no idea buys whatever it is I sell.
Just show up. You never know what positive outcome might occur. You probably won't regret doing it, but most likely you'll regret NOT doing it.
Is there something in your life you continue to do simply because you've always done it that way?
Every time I crack an egg, I remove the white ropey substance attached to the yolk. Until recently, I had no idea what that suff was, but I've removed it all my life. And so has my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother.
Side note: the more prominent the chalazae, the fresher the egg.
Have I stopped this unnecessary step of removing the chalazae? Not entirely, but I'm working on it. It's hard to break a 35-year-old habit.
That struck me as brilliant. Think about it…the winner would be the one who FINISHED the most opportunities. Not the one who TRIED for the most opportunities, but finished them.
It got me thinking about how many times I have been presented with an opportunity and either made a halfhearted attempt at it, or passed on it entirely. That simple statement gave me a renewed vigor to grab every opportunity I can and approach it with the attitude that I will see it through to the end. And, that I will do so with every ounce of my being.
How about you? What opportunities are you going finish?


text:
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>

<persistence xmlns="http://java.sun.com/xml/ns/persistence"
             xmlns:xsi="http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema-instance"
             xsi:schemaLocation="http://java.sun.com/xml/ns/persistence http://java.sun.com/xml/ns/persistence/persistence_1_0.xsd"
             version="1.0">

    <!-- Tomcat + Hypersonic -->
    <persistence-unit name="default">
    	<provider>org.hibernate.ejb.HibernatePersistence</provider>
    	<non-jta-data-source>java:comp/env/jdbc/MySchoolDS</non-jta-data-source>
    	<class>org.openxava.session.GalleryImage</class>
        <properties>
            <property name="hibernate.dialect" value="org.hibernate.dialect.HSQLDialect"/>
        </properties>
    </persistence-unit>

    <!-- JBoss + Hypersonic
    <persistence-unit name="default">
    	<provider>org.hibernate.ejb.HibernatePersistence</provider>
    	<non-jta-data-source>java:/MiEscuelaDS</non-jta-data-source>
    	<class>org.openxava.session.GalleryImage</class>
        <properties>
            <property name="hibernate.dialect" value="org.hibernate.dialect.HSQLDialect"/>
        </properties>
    </persistence-unit>
    -->

    <!-- WebSphere + AS/400
    <persistence-unit name="default">
    	<provider>org.hibernate.ejb.HibernatePersistence</provider>
    	<non-jta-data-source>jdbc/MiEscuelaDS</non-jta-data-source>
    	<class>org.openxava.session.GalleryImage</class>
        <properties>
            <property name="hibernate.dialect" value="org.hibernate.dialect.DB2400Dialect"/>
            <property name="hibernate.show_sql" value="false"/>
        </properties>
    </persistence-unit>
    -->

    <!-- JUnit Hypersonic -->
    <persistence-unit name="junit">
    	<provider>org.hibernate.ejb.HibernatePersistence</provider>
        <properties>
			<property name="hibernate.connection.driver_class" value="org.hsqldb.jdbcDriver"/>
			<property name="hibernate.dialect" value="org.hibernate.dialect.HSQLDialect"/>
			<property name="hibernate.connection.url" value="jdbc:hsqldb:hsql://localhost:1666"/>
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Q: Element.innerHTML breaks connection between element and Document in DOM(isConnected = false)? So basically I was trying to make an error message that is hidden by default be displayed when the user inputs incorrect information. However, the message wasn't appearing. So I used the debugger and found out that the error node element at the top of the js. code was successfully finding the element in the HTML and also successfully changing it's properties. And yet nothing was happening. So after a bit of research I found out that there is a property called isConnected which shows if the Node is connected to the Document. Turns out mine was connected(true) immediately after finding the element, but it was disconnected(false) by the time it entered the errorHandler() func. So again after a bit of debugging I found out that the bottom line of the onPageLoad func was causing the problem. It used to be rootUl.innerHTML += template(countriesObj); but that was breaking it. However, when I moved my error element in the HTML from the ul to outside the id="root" div, it was working fine. It was only breaking when the element was inside the ul. At the end of the day I fixed it by using Element.insertAdjacentHTML() instead, which wouldnt sever the connection between the error element and Document. So after about an hour of struggle, I am curious why that happens and what the difference  is between rootUl.innerHTML += template(countriesObj); and rootUl.insertAdjacentHTML('beforeend', template(countriesObj));
Just to add, rootUl.innerHTML+=template(countriesObj) breaks the connection even when used by other function which are not shown here.
<!DOCTYPE html>

    <meta charset="UTF-8">
    <title>List Towns</title>

    <link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css">

        Input in the following format: "{Country}: {town}, {town} {Country}: {town}, {town}" and so on. Matching is case-insensitive. Non-english characters are not supported. Numbers are not supported. Check regex for more info. Reset button deletes entire database and refreshes page.

    <form action="#" class="content">
        Towns
        <input id="towns" type="text" placeholder="ex. Bulgaria: Burgas, Varna Turkey: Ankara"/>
        <button id="btnLoadTowns">Load</button>
    </form>

Error. Input string not in correct format. Look at instructions above.

    <button id="reset">Reset</button>

Database is currently empty.

async function pageApp(){
    //Misc
    let error = document.querySelector('#error');
    let emptyDatabase = document.getElementById('empty-database');
    // Grab the unordered list of countries
    let rootUl = document.querySelector('#root ul');
    // Extract(GET request) data from database
    let database = await getRequestForCountries();
    // Get the two templates: One is for both country and town, another is just for town when country already exists
    let template = await getTemplate();
    let templateTown = await getTemplateTown();
    // Load countries on page load
    onPageLoad();
    //Attach load event to button
    attachLoadEvent();
    //Reset button for deleting the database
    resetButton()

    function errorHandler(){
        error.style.display = 'block';
        setTimeout(function(){
            error.style.color = 'rgb(136, 9, 0)';
            error.style.background = 'none';
        }, 150)
        error.style.color = 'red';
        error.style.background = 'rgb(136, 9, 0)';
    }

    function onPageLoad(){
        database.forEach(entry => {
            let townsArr = entry.towns;
            let countryName = entry.countryName;
            let townsArrObj = townsArr.reduce((acc, cur) =>{
                let townObj = {
                    name: cur
                }
                acc.push(townObj);
                return acc;
            },[]);
            let countriesObj = {
                countries:[
                    {
                        name: countryName,
                        towns: townsArrObj
                    }
                ]
            }
            //Was rootUl.innerHTML += template(countriesObj); But that breaks the DOM of error and makes error.isConnected = false;
            // rootUl.innerHTML += template(countriesObj);
            rootUl.insertAdjacentHTML('beforeend', template(countriesObj));
        })
    }

A: Element.innerHTML +=, gets HTML code within the element and append it with something.

document.querySelector('p').innerHTML += `<span>Appended span</span>`;

  Lorem Ipsum
  Something

Whereas, Element.insertAdjacentHTML('beforeend', 'To be inserted node'), will add new node, before the specified element.

document.querySelector('p').insertAdjacentHTML('beforeend', '
I am div
');

Lorem ipsum

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Q: combine common value based on some key in list of tuple e.g
data = [ (item1, ('1-jan' ,45)) , (item2, ('21-jan',65)), (item1, ('21-jan',48))]

I like something like:
result = [ (item1, [('1-jan' ,45),('21-jan',48)]), (item2, [('21-jan',65)])]

to be precise I need final outcome
result = { item1: ('1-jan':45,'21-jan':48)), item2: ('21-jan':65)]

A: You can use dict.setdefault() to easily create groupings in a dictionary:
>>> data = [ ('item1', ('1-jan' ,45)) , ('item2', ('21-jan',65)), ('item1', ('21-jan',48))]
>>> result = {}
>>> for k, v in data:
        result.setdefault(k, []).append(v)

>>> result
{'item2': [('21-jan', 65)], 'item1': [('1-jan', 45), ('21-jan', 48)]}

You can also use collections.defaultdict to achieve the same end.

A: If @Raymond's setdefault() doesn't work for you, try a defaultdict(list) object:
source
data = [ ("item1", ('1-jan' ,45)) , ("item2", ('21-jan',65)), ("item1", ('21-jan',48))]

from collections import defaultdict
out = defaultdict(list)
for key,value in data:
    out[key].append(value)

print out

output
defaultdict(<type 'list'>, {'item2': [('21-jan', 65)], 'item1': [('1-jan', 45), ('21-jan', 48)]})

A: This is not as simple as iterating through each value and adding it to a dictionary.  You must check to make sure that the key (item1, item2) are not in the dictionary first.  If they are, you must append the value to the existing key.
Here you go:
data = [ ('item1', ('1-jan' ,45)) , ('item2', ('21-jan',65)), ('item1', ('21-jan',48))]

dataDict = {}

for i in range(len(data)):
    if data[i][0] not in dataDict:
        dataDict[data[i][0]] = data[i][1]
    else:
        dataDict[data[i][0]] += data[i][1]

As the above users have commented, you can use default dictionaries to make life more simple.


text:
Home > Car Accident > Driver trapped after cement truck overturns in West Miami Dade
Driver trapped after cement truck overturns in West Miami Dade
MIAMI DADE CO., FL – A cement truck driver was airlifted to the hospital after a rollover crash in West Miami Dade early Monday morning.
According to CBS Miami, the crash occurred at about 5 a.m. along Tamiami Trail near the intersection with West Loop Road.
Troopers believe the driver lost control in the westbound lanes of the roadway and crossed into the eastbound lanes before striking a guardrail. The truck then overturned in the roadway, trapping the driver inside.
Miami-Dade Fire Rescue extricated the man from the truck with help from a surgical team. He was then flown to Kendall Regional Hospital with serious, potentially life-threatening injuries.


Ivy stretched over the walls of the Old Manse, covering the front of the building and most of the sides. Only to the rear was the foliage sparse, revealing patches of dun brick and Tudor oak. The green wooden door that once had been the servants' entrance stood open. Occasionally smells of cooking still would seep from the kitchen window, but now the only scents were those of the red and white roses which grew up the walls of the small garden which abutted upon that part of the house. The foliage was of the old type, with flowers the size of a child's palm. During the day they gave off a barely discernible odour, but towards evening, their scents would swell and flood through overhanging leaves of yew and elder, whose soft rustling fell almost into stillness as the light grew redder and the birdsong epiphanous.
A low iron gate set in the far wall led into the outer garden and orchard, which stretched right down to the slow-flowing Mychelham Water some hundred yards or so due east. On this August evening, smoke rose from the patio at the centre of the garden and coiled around the white canvas parasol under which the Reverend Edward Ingle Synnot was seated, partaking of a supper consisting of succulent green figs from a tree which stood on the other side of the garden wall, hard Danish cheese, freshly-baked bread and a carafe of finest Minho port. Between sips, he leaned back against the hard wicker of his chair and lit up an impressive Cuban cigar. Impressive, that is, if anyone had been watching this septuagenarian vicar, plus-fours-and-all, engaging in the typically bucolic pleasures of his Sunday evening. At that time on the Lord's Sabbath, when prayers had been said, wafers consumed, and robes relinquished with not a small measure of relief, his sole companions tended to be avian or insectiferous.
The vicar switched off a transistor radio to which he had been listening, laid down his cigar and, stretching across the wooden table, picked up a leather-bound book. It felt light in his hands, its faded white leather smooth against his skin. Using the tip of his index finger, he traced out the gold-leaf letters of the title on both jacket and spine and then lifted his right hand and squinted at the finger-tip; using the other fingers of the same hand, with a clumsy elegance he donned a pair of gold-rimmed, half-moon reading spectacles, gazed at the white dust accrued on the whorls of his finger-pad, then sniffed it gently. His nose was long and firm, slightly rounded at its end, like the protuberance of a Henry Moore statue; his lips, once middling full, were pursed through long years of solicitude and intercessionary prayer; his eyes were the colour of well-seasoned oak. He removed a white handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped the dust onto the cloth. He undid the clasp, allowed the book to fall open, lifted away the white satin bookmark and began to read. He read inwardly, but if one were to have looked closely enough between, say, the broad leaves of an old yew tree, one might have made out the harmonic movement of his lips and tongue. Perhaps a wandering white dog might have been capable of hearing the melody of his barely conscious vocalisation of the meanings which had been burned into the paper. Whether or not there was such a creature among the apple and pear trees of the orchard remains unknown, but the fact was that Reverend Synnot was no longer alone. Another man was sitting opposite him.
The other swung back on his chair and folded his arms behind his neck.
John Rotherfield brought his hands down onto the table. They were large hands, calloused, the nails cracked here and there and with dirt ingrained into the knuckles. His hair was full for an old man. It looked as if it had been burned silver by the sun. His eyebrows were bushy and still black. Lines ran in every possible direction around his eyes, mouth and neck. He had come to resemble the crust of a dessicated planet which, aeons past, had been lush and green. Yet his frame was unbent and lithe. His gaze, fixed on a point behind and to the left of the other man's jacket, was so intense that Edward had an almost irresistible urge to turn around. However, he knew that following Rotherfield's deep blue eyes into whatever reveries he held within his head was a dangerous path to take; perhaps he was only looking at the climbing rose that had forced its tangled stem upwards against the crumbling brick ever since the days of Paine and Cobbett.
And without waiting for a reply, Edward poured him a generous measure of port, filling the glass to the point of overflowing. Without spilling a drop, he placed it before the gamekeeper. For an interval during which it seemed to Edward that he could hear the ticking of the grandmother clock on the wall of his study far within the house, Rotherfield's stare held him, as countless times it had held a pheasant, a deer or a snake. Yet it was he who looked away first. He threw back his head and gulped from the glass, his Adam's apple pulsing up and down the trunk of his throat. Edward noticed that Rotherfield had leaned a small axe and a bag of sticks against the wall and shivered inexplicably.
Rotherfield lit his cigar. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped a quarter-octave.
Rotherfield reached across and took the book out of his hand.
'Nothing there either,' Edward answered.
Rotherfield began flicking through the yellowed pages.
Rotherfield put the book down close to his glass, glanced down at his boots, exhaled slowly and then looked back up. Edward, for reasons he found difficult to identify, felt compelled to speak.
'Of course I remember,' Rotherfield cut in.
It was a conversation which they'd had countless times over the years, and they always reached this same theological dead-end.
In spite of the lack of a breeze, Edward thought he heard the sound of river water rushing over flat stones. He was aware of Rotherfield's eyes on him, that penetrating quality they had, the manner in which they darted away as though suddenly aware of their power. An oppressive sense of animalistic scrutiny made him shift uneasily in his chair. It was as though the presence of this old acquaintance had disturbed the plumb-line of the equilibrium which he had made for himself in the enclosed garden, the equilibrium which, by extension, held together his life within the Church of St Cuthman.
Rotherfield's eyes had not sustained the veined tiredness of old age. Nothing cracked the arc of their perfection. Edward felt the inadequacy, the banality of his own mud-brown irises. Never once in his seventy years had he perceived through those eyes the nature of God. Through all the gallons of blood-coloured wine and high-stacked ricks of bread, through sermons a million words long and christenings sufficient to drown half the host of Hell, cleavings and layings to earth enough to cultivate the seeds of a nation, not once had the Reverend Edward Ingle Synnott felt the living presence of Christ.
'You have sought solace within the pages of your books and the resonance of your stone chancels, while I…' Rotherfield's voice quivered like an arrow-shaft in oak.
Edward picked up the fat Havana, ignited its distal end and puffed away like a jazz cornetist until the smoke rose in perfect circles from the ends of the wrapped leaves. The birds now were of the evening: kestrels, curlews, night herons. Rotherfield breathed in deeply. He felt the garden roses fill his chest; and beyond, the sleeping ivy, the broad, grey beech; and the slowly rising veins of the yew began to course through his body where they met and joined with something that had burned there for years. In the depths of despair, nature had always redeemed him. Perhaps that was why, on the first Sunday of every month, he walked through the forest of Andrieda and crossed the Mychelham Water to take port and cheese and bread with the man with whom, in a manner of speaking, he had shared the same epoch. They would harangue each other and discuss metaphysical matters, or pore over treatises on nature or essays which purported to draw links between the exact geographical locations of various artists' homes and their works. It had become an unofficial fixture in both men's lives, these past ten years or so.
'I hear the music, through the stone walls of your church. I feel the wind blowing through the organ-pipes.
The vicar did not reply but instead fiddled with his reading glasses, which tended to slip progressively down his nose; because he adjusted them so often, the frame had become bent, so that they tended to sit on the bone at a slightly skewed angle, which made the tops of his ears rather uncomfortable.
Edward flipped through the pages until he found the chapter for which he'd been searching. As though he were about to place the book upon a lectern, he carefully smoothed down the spine, cleared his throat and began to read.
These are the works, in vellum, of Aelfric, Abbott and builder of the Church of Wywurth in the land of South Saxons, who died on the Day of the Feast of St Thomas in 872 Anno Domini. They were discovered sealed in an iron casket held within the walls at the crown-end of a pyramidal-shaped tomb close to the east line of the square chancel in the old churchyard of Oxney, East Sussex. The tomb was of more recent date, and so the assumption must be that the casket had been removed from its original place of secretion, which may have been somewhere beneath the church floor, and moved to the cist of one Sir Cuthman Harris, good Squire of Oxney who was born on the 10th March in the Year of Our Lord 1654 and who departed this world on 15th December in the Year of Our Lord 1729. The reason for its removal and deposition are unknown to the author.
These are the words of I, Aelfric, who is the Abbott of Wywurth in the Land of the South Saxons. For some twenty winters, since work on this most holy abode of God hath, with His Grace, been completed, I have been engaged in collecting and committing unto manuscript the songs and customs of this land of mine and of applying to said musics the principles and incantations of Pope Sylvester of Rome who lived among the Saracens in the lands to the south of the Dominion of the Franks and who learned there of many hellish things which yet might lead unto a knowledge of the perfect proportions of Paradise and the various lights with which said garden be illumin'd. Through rain and snow and pestilence and great temptation, have I laboured these twenty years in dark cloisters of the soul, and in my searches, I have travelled across very near the entirety of the Marks of the land of the South Saxons. I have waded through the shadows of wayside Roods, I have inscribed the dances and songs, vigorous and gentle, of the thanes and the ceorls and those, too of their womenfolk; these are folk of mine own stock and yet through this long quest, do I sense a great river flowing between mine own soul and that of the men who live and die around my cell. With crot, horn and monochord, I am as a wave pon the sea. I have grown separate even from the fellow-brothers of mine own abbey. They know little of my work and perhaps tis best that way, since they possess neither the wisdom to comprehend its span, nor the reason to put it to use. If they had their way, they might liken to burn such manuscripts as I create, for such as the Æcer-bót is believed by many in this land of ours to be works of the Devil.
And truth be written, I rest uneasy upon the labours of my stylus, for God knows what twists and coils and devilish airs may be assumed and read into even the most innocent of letters. The Word may have been issued from the moving spirit of Our Lord, yet having descended into this world of men, it is not trammelled with the good as oxen are to plough.
But these nights I must speed my labours, my reed must slip across bull-skin as wax floweth into the flame. A dark wind bloweth from the east, and I know not what our fate will be, a month from now. In this work I am ably abetted by one novice monk, Aetheric, whom very near from the cradle I did school in the arts in which my soul is embroiled through the course of this life. I work with said Aetheric in a space which lieth neath the beams of the tower roof and from this vantageous point can we witness the rise and fall of the sun and the moon and the sway and heave of the tides and rivers of the sky, and also can we spie any intruder, man or woman, thane or ceorl, who might emerge from the depths of the forest. In the past few weeks we have made out, along the far eastern rim, a long line of black and gold. These be the clinker ships of the North-Men with their golden beaks and their massed oars, scything through the white waves along the line of the coast. I have spotted the works of these brutes at close hand, when once I was travelling through the lands of the Jutes of old in search of some ancient manuscripts said to have been quill'd by none other than the Archbishop Elphege of East Kent. From my vantage-point, I watched Norse-Men storm into the town and slaughter all, even unto the whining dogs and gawking hens! They took the Archbishop into the square, where they cast him upright upon whole bone and horns of an ox, and then one of them struck him with an axe-iron on the head, so that with the blow he and the bony frame sank down. Then, him being still alive, they proceeded to slit his back with an axe, twice, and deep, so that he screamed as I have never before heard man or beast scream. Then they turned him over and hacked open his chest, again in form of two straight lines, running in angle parallel. Then they forced apart the rib-sticks of his heart-cage and left him there on the wealden mud of the village square, his heart beating to the white sky, his back broken into wings, to perish in the greatest of agonies. I had heard this devilish practice called by the Dark Strangers themselves, 'The Rite of the Blood Eagle'. After they had completed their terrible deed, the savages did take the body and strip it of skin, laying it thus, raw and open, to the vultures and wolves and mad dogs who do follow the hoofprints of death wherever that great beast doth roam. On their left shoulder they carried an axe and on their right, an iron spear. Each man wore two gold bracelets on either arm and on his head, a gilt helmet. They were bearded and their faces were stamped with expression, most terrible and pagan. I hurried myself away from the awful scene and I did not stop till I reached the wayside cross which sits pon the east bank of the east tributary of the River Mychelham, which divides the lands of the Kentish folk from the marches of the South Saxons. There, as I lay down to rest, I smelled the river most foul and horrid. When I raised my head to look upon the waters, I saw that they did flow red. Yet I had to cross the ford, since if I had remained where I was, the Dark Strangers would surely have found my hiding-place and I would have suffered the selfsame fate of the good Archbishop. I waited a little, in the hope that the waters might clear, but with no sign of this impending, I took up my scapular in my arms and waded through the blood-drenched river. The stench of it caused my head to spin, so that I almost tumbled into the red flood. Yet the current flowed fast and I knew that if once I fell, I would be unable to rise again and would drown in the blood of Mother Church. So I strode on, all the while intoning a bede to Our Lord. At the moment when I felt that I could move no further, at the very middle point of the river, I closed my eyes and implored the skies to come to my aid. For I carried with me manuscripts most precious, which I had obtained that very morning from the most saelig archbishop, and if I drowned, they would be gone forever; the ink of their vellum would run and flow through the rivers of the land and be lost in the southern sea. But already my legs were turning to viscid water and I felt as though I would dissolve into the great river. At that moment, I heard the sound of a woman's voice. It was a song which I had never before heard and the words were in a language which I did not understand, or else which now I have forgotten. On that fateful afternoon in the full-spated river, I found that I understood as though I had long known the words of this song, which, though mournful, was not akin to the funeral dirges of our age, but seemed to issue from a time, long past, or else, yet to come. The fluid of the music rendered unto my sinews the power to continue my journey, and so I was able to cross the river and return by these many leagues, to the abbey. I know not the explanation for this happening, nor yet who the woman was that sang so beautifully to me on that day. Perhaps it was the Holy Spirit. I know not.
Aelfric sat at his desk by the opening between the sloping wooden roof of the church tower and the wall and as he gazed across the village to the rods of farmland which lay outside of ditch, bank and palisade, his eyes came to rest upon the ochre wastes beyond the yew forest. The great Southern Sea was some seven leagues away, yet he could smell its sharp blade. The day was hard and cold and clear and as it turned slowly to night, the freezing air settled in complete stillness over the surface of the forest lake. In the morning he would brush away the thin dust of snow from its surface and see himself as though he were lying on the bed of the lake. The sun had abandoned the eastern sky, yet its beams overflowed from beneath the horizon, turning the columns of smoke which issued from the Moot Hill to bronze. Aelfric imagined the smoke to be earthly angels, sent to protect the abbey from the depradations of the Dark Strangers. The thin trails hung unmoving in the still air, like the sung notes of the dead. As he moved about the belfry, Aelfric felt that he was the only thing on earth whose swing and metal had not been still'd. The smells of the village, smells of poultry and pigs, stale hay and green waste, wafted to the top of the tower, yet like the smoke they thinned as they rose. From where he was, Aelfric could not hear any of the chopping, shouting and grinding that would be going on below; such sounds as had accompanied the building of this humble and yet wondrous church. Aelfric had supervised every aspect of the construction, from foundation ditch to belfry roof. It would have been another man's life's work; under his hand, the church had been completed within a mere twenty years.
The plan for the building had come to him through a dream in the form of musical notches. Upon waking, he had grabbed his quill and rushed to his vellum, but once there, he had been unable to transcribe even one of the sounds he had heard. At first he had despaired, for the music had been beautiful and wondrous, but then he had realised that such celestial notes could never be scratched with the end of a bird feather onto animal skin. For twenty years the song had remained hidden in his head, and yet he had been able, somehow, to reach down as though through a dark firmament and follow that which was held therein and so, winter-upon-summer, his church had been built.
The basic plan was that of a Cross with arms of equal length. The main – north – portal was very plain, with a single rose window above it. The ceiling was vaulted and supported by pillars with ornamental shafts. The building was taller than it was broad and culminated in a large dome resting on spherical triangles. At times, especially when it was empty first thing in the morning and the light angled in appropriate manner, the Abbey of Wywurth seemed more like a cathedral than a humble village church. At the centre of the dome, a great golden sun beamed so brightly down upon apse and nave that the whole building seemed to be illuminated. Painted in faint outline behind the sun was a black, square-shaped rood. Most of the interior was unadorned, save for the east entrance. There, carved into the stone, and protruding from it, was the face of a young woman, complete with hair and neckband. Around the face grew tendrils of reeds and leaves of ivy and the whole was set above the door with the visage inclined slightly downwards so that it seemed as though the woman was gazing at folk as they entered. The bell-tower was reputed to be the highest in the lands of the South Saxons, and though he had not climbed each one and measured the rival steeples, stone-upon-stone, Aelfric believed this to be true.
The church had been built using huge sandstone blocks taken from the ruins of buildings of the Old Romans, blocks so heavy that it had taken eight yoke of oxen just to move them the fifteen leagues. He had no idea where the plan for the Abbey of Wywurth had come from, it was like no house of God he had ever seen or heard of, but it had succeeded, it stood upright, its dome and tower punched into the sky. The perfect music which he had heard in his dream was set now in stone.
Up in the chamber of the bell-tower it was as though he were enclosed in a cell, a monastic cell, yes, but more than that, an enclosed space like that which might exist in a book, or a song, or a tomb. Such a place might exist in the lower reaches of heaven, or the hinterlands of paradise. This land was indeed a holy land.
He sighed and, with a groan, raised his frame from the chair and rubbed his lower back; too many hours of poring over half-decayed manuscripts, styling notes into tablets of wax and finally, once all the calculations had been made and the courses of logic run, drawing reed across vellum beneath a tallow light. For several days he had neglected to shave, or even to follow the Rule of Benedict. As he had done many times over the years, Aelfric asked forgiveness of his Creator for these faults, hoping for some dispensation, given the urgency of his task: to complete the cycle of songs, musics and arithmetical calculations which would yield, if not to him then at least to some future scholar, the ability to dance in seamless, lacertine geometer across this land and thus to scry the future and even the nature of that most elusive of mysteries, death.
Aelfric went over to a low table and poured some wine from an urn into a blue glass, swung back his head and gulped so rapidly that it made him choke and cough. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips and drank some more. These past few days he had existed on wine and stale bread and his legs felt like fish-guts. All his brother monks had fled towards the lands of the West Saxons, which yet held secure, but he and his helper Aetheric had remained here with the intention of hiding the manuscripts and themselves until the North-Men had gone their way. Then they would re-emerge, knowledge and wisdom intact – qualities they would carry on their backs north, south, east and west. They had to stay to complete the work not so much because the Abbey of Wywurth was one of the last places where they might find seclusion and materials with which to continue; more because of the head of Alcuin, which could not be moved from there, e'en until Doomsday.
Aelfric tensed. Footsteps, growing louder. Three knocks, followed by four: it was their code. He went over and turned the iron handle. The door swung open, revealing a breathless Aetheric. The Abbott turned away, folded his hands behind his back.
'Well, didst thou find any meat?' he asked, sternly.
In the opened palm of his outstretched hand, Aetheric held a sparkling piece of jet, cut in the shape of an eye.
Aelfric walked over to the gap of light. What the novice had said must indeed be true. Smoke, dancing lithe and curvaceous, was rising to such a height over the village as he had never before seen. It must be that, timber by timber, the building itself was being fed to the fire.
The shapes the smoke made against the sky resembled great thorns, or Viking axes, or demons, and the smell it gave out was of sulphur. It was as though Hellfire itself had descended upon Wywurth and upon the world, thought Aelfric, feeling the stone smooth and warm in his hand. He became angry.
So saying, he raised his arm and cast the stone to the floor, where it broke into eleven thousand pieces. There was a loud bang and the room filled with smoke so dense it caused their eyes to water. Then, as Aelfric made the sign of the rood across his chest, he thought he heard music. It was of the same rhythm as the music which the thanes played and to which the scops sang in the great Moot Halls across the lands of the Saxons. Yet this leoðsong seemed to issue from the very core of his being. It was soon as though his very bones were singing. Although he could not make out the words, they seemed known to him, as if they had once fallen from the lips of a lover. (Aelfric was surprised that this thought had occurred to him, since, even in dream, he had never possessed a woman.) The song was at once the rise and fall of the tide in spring, the sound of snow falling on a stone tomb, the spinning memory of long galleries and fire-shadows.
Commanded me to bear their criminals.
She turned towards him and as she did so, her black hair came loose from its clasp and danced across her visage in manner akin to a leafy yew branch caressed by the breeze.
Aelfric shot a glance at the novice, who lowered his gaze.
The woman continued, and it was as though she were singing her words.
Aelfric felt as though his legs were about to give way. He stumbled to his chair, and almost fell into it. The novice went to him.
'Let me bring thee a drink.' Aetheric lifted a tumbler to his master's lips and the Abbot drank of the Holy Communion wine.
The maiden smiled and moved toward the two monks. She was taller than the tallest man in the village; she stood over six foot; and she progressed in manner light and subtle, hardly skimming the ground. Her feet were bare. She sat upon the other chair, rested her arms on the table and laid the soft, white skin of her palms upon the coarse vellum of the manuscripts.
'Good lady, dost thou mean that I shall seek out and find safe places where this vellum might be secreted?' She motioned across the room, toward the shafts of light which poured in through the wooden frame.
The Abbott gathered up his writing materials – vellum, reed and pigments – and sat alert at his desk. The light was still strong, yet at its fulcrum was a hint of the darkness which covereth all. He tied the rope tightly around him, so that his clothing seemed more shroud than habit.
The black-haired lady placed her hands upon the shoulders of the novice. Her fingers were long and bony, the nails like icicles on the point of melting. She drew him to the centre of the room. He closed his eyes and began to sway. She threw her head back so that her long mantle of hair swept like the wakes of a thousand long-ships across her tunic. Her mouth opened but at first no sound issued from her throat. Then, as Aelfric watched, the muscles between jaw and collar-bones began to pull and ripple and stretch and her head swung from side to side, as though she were in a trance of prayer. The movements grew until it seemed as though they would rip her skull from her spine. As a trickle of blood began to flow from her neck, she began to sing in a voice high-toned as a lark's, yet strong as a raven's. Aetheric who was now unclothed lay with his spine curved against the pig-iron of the bell, his skin glowing silver like that of the maiden. The notes from which the lines and strokes and dots that wet the vellum had arisen resonated in the Abbott's skull. The white-faced scop began singing in his wanderer's soul.
Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the giver of gold?
Where be the seats and the banquet? Where be the hall-joys of old?
Alas for the burnished cup, for the byrnied chief of today!
Is hid neath the shadow of night, as it never had been at all.
A wall that is wondrous high, and with wondrous snake-work wrought.
The cruel rush from the north, which maketh men to quail.
Her song continued, yet now it was a reflection, a didymus, the form merely of a tale as she swayed back and forth with Aetheric the Novice against the metal arc of the bell and Aelfric the Abbott scribed faster than ever he had scribed, pigments and inks flying from the end of his reed quill. The music which he plyed in the form of words melded with the last rays of light which sleeked into the belfry like the blades of langseaxes. And as he wrote, the land itself rose up, chain upon perch upon rood upon acre, and Aelfric saw far into a realm where energy grows form.
Reverend Synnott laid the book, still open, upon the table. He sighed and sat back in his chair. His face was pale and his eyes flitted like bird seeking perch about the branches of the trees outside the garden.
'Why false?' the vicar asked, his pallor increasing.
Edward was silent. He concentrated on the crumbling upper edge of the wall some four feet above Rotherfield's shoulder. The scent of roses was growing stronger, mingled with the inspissated odour of old brick. Soon night would sweep over everything, turn colour to formless black.
'That day, before the war, when we took small boats down to the river, yonder…' Rotherfield jerked his thumb back to indicate the direction of the river which flowed beyond the wood's far edge.
The vicar sighed and thrust his legs out straight, leaned back on his elbows and gazed up at the sky as though he were back fifty years, in the narrow rowing-boat as it bobbed along in the middle of the river. The willows hung heavy over the water. He felt the rough, warm planks of the hull rub against his naked shoulders. Through the soles of his feet, which were planted against the arched walls of the craft, he felt the parting movement of the waters and at the same time, against the curvature of his skull, he felt them come together as though his passage had been merely a solitary bubble moving through their substance.
3 Comments on "Saelig Tales (Part 1)"
I rarely enjoy contemporary stories. I always prefer classics but Suhayl Saadi is an exception. I can't resist to read his works word by word. Really admirable.


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Watch Kanye West Kick It with Big Sean, Mannie Fresh, Olsen Twins on Tour
ByAnthony Osei
Anthony Osei is a contributing writer at Complex and founder of the popular Tumblr, Thirstiest Men of Instagram.
"Church" is the latest webisode in VOYR's Watch The Throne Tour web series which takes us behind-the-scenes during one of the biggest tours of the year. Big Sean speaks on his thoughts on Kanye's work ethic and 'Ye kicks it with the Olsen Twins backstage during the tour. We also get to see a private meeting between West, Mannie Fresh, John Legend, Hit-Boy, James Blake, and more at Kanye's lavish L.A. mansion.
VideosKanye West


Just started exile and was wondering what I can do to defend my base as best as i can. I was thinking about stacking walls but I'm not sure if that would even work. Can any experienced player help me out haha?
Depending on the server, stacking walls is forbidden due 2 rules or blocked anyways.
Get a decent spot for your base/flag. Build fake rooms, where the flag could be - place the flag tricky (in a place ppl would look in last place).
For example, i like to build on rocks/cliffs and place the flag near it and then build a wall wich looks more cosmetic then protecting. Place a safe or supplybox in front of that and nearby walls, so ppl don't even think about blowin that wall up.
If it's allowed to build in towns, you also could place the flag in a random, less conspicuous building - upgrade your flag and build your base as far as possible away from that - don't forget to build up some fakerooms.
Find hard destructible objects without doors, destroy them, place the flag inside - build walls inside of the object around the flag - with the next restart, the object is back and your flag is double protected and hard to spot.
For safe rooms, use concrete - use different pins on different doors/gates.


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Spanish Painting Background
Spanish Painting from XIV to XVIII Centuries
Modern Spanish Painting
Francisco Bayeu y Subías
Joaquín Manuel Fernández Cruzado
Eugenio Hermoso
Teodoro Andreu
Joaquín Sorolla
Néstor Martín-Fernández de la Torre
Julio Romero de Torres
Ignacio Zuloaga
María Blanchard
Pablo Ruiz Picasso
El tres de mayo de 1808 en Madrid
Saturno devorando a un hijo
Les Demoiselles d'Avignon
Naturaleza muerta y paisaje - Place Ravignan
La persistencia de la memoria
Construcción blanda con judías hervidas
Spanish Sculpture Background
Modern Spanish Sculpture
Spanish Museums Overview
Spanish Dance and Music
Spanish Literature and Theatre Overview
HomeModern Spanish PaintingJoaquín Sorolla
Impressionism: Joaquín Sorolla
Joaquín Sorolla was a Spanish painter from the 19th century who specialised in painting portraits and landscapes. Sorolla is one of most productive Spanish painters, having produced over 2000 paintings.
Joaquín Sorolla (1863-1923)
Born in Valencia, Spain, Joaquín Sorolla only spent two years with his parents as they tragically died in 1865, leaving Joaquin and his sister as orphans. Therefore, Joaquín Sorolla lived with his aunt and uncle.
At the age of fourteen, Sorolla studied in Valencia the subject of his passion: art. At eighteen years of age, Sorolla moved to Madrid, in order to be surrounded by the Madrilenian culture and to study Spanish masters' paintings in the Museo del Prado. Joaquín Sorolla then spent four years in Madrid completing an art course, but returned to his hometown of Valencia after a brief spell in Paris. It was in Valencia that Joaquín Sorolla met his wife and had his three children. The Sorolla family then moved to Madrid where Joaquín began to paint a vast number of large paintings for displays in exhibitions.
Joaquín Sorolla experienced his first taste of success with his painting 'Another Marguerite' (Otra Margarita) (1892). For this painting, Sorolla received the gold medal at the National Exhibition in Madrid, and then First Prize at the Chicago International Exhibition. Thanks to 'Another Marguerite', Joaquín Sorolla became very famous and later became the much acclaimed head of the Modern Spanish School of Painting.
Joaquín Sorolla then moved on to paint two paintings that joined the disciplines of art, science and technology. 'A Research' (Una investigacion) and 'Portrait of Dr Simarro at the Microscope' (el Dr Simarro en el laboratorio) won the Prize of Honour at the National Exhibition of Fine Arts, which was held in Madrid in 1897. These paintings have been considered by many as being the greatest paintings of this genre in the world, let alone in Spain.
Joaquín Sorolla received many prizes for his paintings during his lifetime. Yet the biggest prize he won for the painting 'Sad Inheritance' (Triste herencia). 'Sad Inheritance' (Triste herencia) shows a group of crippled children bathing at the seaside under the guidance of a monk.
Joaquín Sorolla received the Grand Prix and a Medal of Honour for 'Sad Inheritance' (Triste herencia) at the National Exhibition in Paris in 1900. The following year, Sorolla received another Medal of Honour at the 1901 National Exhibition in Madrid for the same painting.
In 1906, Sorolla put on an exhibition at the Georges Petit Galleries in Paris which included over 500 pieces of his artwork. This exhibition contained many of Sorolla's early paintings as well as his more recent impressionist landscapes that tended to focus on people wandering across sunny beaches. The Impressionist aspect can be seen in the way Joaquín Sorolla portrayed the sunlight falling on the subjects of the paintings.
Sorolla continued to produce many paintings extremely quickly and held many more of these large scale exhibitions in London and Germany. While on his trip to England, Sorolla met Archer Milton Huntington who later invited Sorolla to be a member of the Hispanic Society of America. In 1909, Sorolla did another large exhibition at the Hispanic Society of America, displaying 356 paintings. During that exhibition, Joaquín Sorolla managed to sell 195 of those paintings.
With regards to commissions, Sorolla's biggest commission came in 1911 when he was asked to paint a series of paintings depicting everyday life in Spain, which were to hang in the Hispanic Society of America. Sorolla, however, decided to adapt this commission so that each painting represented the different regions of Spain. These paintings took up most of Joaquín Sorolla's time and when they were finally completed in 1919, Sorolla was exhausted. He became ill, suffering a stroke in 1920, and died three years later in 1923.
© Spanish Arts 2011