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The Only Time Gabriel Garcia Marquez Saw Ernest Hemingway
David Dobbs
Gabriel Garcia Marquez, 30 years ago, on seeing Hemingway 32 years earlier in Paris: For a fraction of a second, as always seemed to be the case, I found myself divided between my two competing roles. I didn't know whether to ask him for an interview or cross the avenue to express my unqualified admiration […]
Gabriel Garcia Marquez, 30 years ago, on seeing Hemingway 32 years earlier in Paris:
For a fraction of a second, as always seemed to be the case, I found myself divided between my two competing roles. I didn't know whether to ask him for an interview or cross the avenue to express my unqualified admiration for him. But with either proposition, I faced the same great inconvenience. At the time, I spoke the same rudimentary English that I still speak now, and I wasn't very sure about his bullfighter's Spanish. And so I didn't do either of the things that could have spoiled that moment, but instead cupped both hands over my mouth and, like Tarzan in the jungle, yelled from one sidewalk to the other: ''Maaaeeestro!'' Ernest Hemingway understood that there could be no other master amid the multitude of students, and he turned, raised his hand and shouted to me in Castillian in a very childish voice, ''Adiooos, amigo!'' It was the only time I saw him.
At the time, I was a 28-year-old newspaperman with a published novel and a literary prize in Colombia, but I was adrift and without direction in Paris. My great masters were the two North American novelists who seemed to have the least in common. I had read everything they had published until then, but not as complementary reading - rather, just the opposite, as two distinct and almost mutually exclusive forms of conceiving of literature. One of them was William Faulkner, whom I had never laid eyes on and whom I could only imagine as the farmer in shirtsleeves scratching his arm beside two little white dogs in the celebrated portrait of him taken by Cartier-Bresson. The other was the ephemeral man who had just said goodbye to me from across the street, leaving me with the impression that something had happened in my life, and had happened for all time.
Garcia Marquez wrote this, for the NY Times, 28 years after Hemingway won the Nobel and about a year before he himself won it. His essay, much like his best works, just keeps flowering:> I don't know who said that novelists read the novels of others only to figure out how they are written. I believe it's true. We aren't satisfied with the secrets exposed on the surface of the page: we turn the book around to find the seams. In a way that's impossible to explain, we break the book down to its essential parts and then put it back together after we understand the mysteries of its personal clockwork. The effort is disheartening in Faulkner's books, because he doesn't seem to have an organic system of writing, but instead walks blindly through his biblical universe, like a herd of goats loosed in a shop full of crystal. Managing to dismantle a page of his, one has the impression of springs and screws left over, that it's impossible to put back together in its original state. Hemingway, by contrast, with less inspiration, with less passion and less craziness but with a splendid severity, left the screws fully exposed, as they are on freight cars. Maybe for that reason Faulkner is a writer who has had much to do with my soul, but Hemingway is the one who had the most to do with my craft - not simply for his books, but for his astounding knowledge of the aspect of craftsmanship in the science of writing. In his historic interview with George Plimpton in The Paris Review, (Hemingway) showed for all time - contrary to the Romantic notion of creativity -that economic comfort and good health are conducive to writing; that one of the chief difficulties is arranging the words well; that when writing becomes hard it is good to reread one's own books, in order to remember that it always was hard; that one can write anywhere so long as there are no visitors and no telephone; and that it is not true that journalism finishes off a writer, as has so often been said - rather, just the opposite, so long as one leaves it behind soon enough. ''Once writing has become the principal vice and the greatest pleasure,'' he said, ''only death can put an end to it.'' Finally, his lesson was the discovery that each day's work should only be interrupted when one knows where to begin again the next day. I don't think that any more useful advice has ever been given about writing. It is, no more and no less, the absolute remedy for the most terrible specter of writers: the morning agony of facing the blank page.
Has anyone captured Hemingway so fully so quickly? He gets too at what happens when one goes all in with a writer, as I did with Hemingway (and Faulkner and Woolf):
When one lives for so long with a writer's work, and with such intensity and affection, one is left without a way of separating fiction from reality. I have spent many hours of many days reading in that cafe in the Place St. Michel that he considered good for writing because it seemed pleasant, warm, clean and friendly, and I have always hoped to find once again the girl he saw enter one wild, cold, blowing day, a girl who was very pretty and fresh-looking, with her hair cut diagonally across her face like a crow's wing. ''You belong to me and Paris belongs to me,'' he wrote for her, with that relentless power of appropriation that his writing had. Everything he described, every instant that was his, belongs to him forever. I can't pass by No. 12 Rue de l'Odeon in Paris without seeing him in conversation with Sylvia Beach, in a bookstore that is now no longer the same, killing time until six in the evening, when James Joyce might happen to drop by. On the Kenya prairie, seeing them only once, he became the owner of his buffaloes and his lions, and of the most intimate secrets of hunting. He became the owner of bullfighters and prizefighters, of artists and gunmen who existed only for an instant while they became his. Italy, Spain, Cuba - half the world is filled with the places that he appropriated simply by mentioning them. In Cojimar, a little village near Havana where the solitary fisherman of ''The Old Man and the Sea'' lived, there is a plaque commemorating his heroic exploits, with a gilded bust of Hemingway. In Finca de la Vigia, his Cuban refuge, where he lived until shortly before his death, the house remains intact amid the shady trees, with his diverse collection of books, his hunting trophies, his writing lectern, his enormous dead man's shoes, the countless trinkets of life from all over the world that were his until his death, and that go on living without him, with the soul he gave them by the mere magic of his owning them.
About 15 months after this was published, I was living in New York City when I learned Garcia had won the Nobel Prize in Literature. I was riding the elevator up to my apartment, and riding it too was the delivery guy from the neighborhood wine store, where I often bought $2 bottles of wine that had originated in Argentina or Australia or Chile -- still overlooked sources back then. The wine-store guy, who was from Colombia, was young and smart and heavily accented and ridiculously handsome. That day, carrying a sack of wine up for someone on a higher floor (I got the apartment via an acquaintance's rent control; the building, with wonderful doormen and a marble floor in the lobby, was way beyond my fresh-grad paygrade, but I had snagged it at the same price my friends were paying to live in hovels), he was beaming.
"How are you?" I asked, even though it was obvious.
He said, "Wonderful. I am so happy today. Gabriel Garcia Marquez has just won the Nobel prize. It is a great day for Colombia. I am so happy and proud." He looked terribly happy and terribly homesick.
Somehow this completes a circle: Hemingway; Garcia commenting on Hemingway's bullfighter Spanish; and the Colombian wine steward, beaming, bringing me the news of Garcia's own triumph.
At the Times: Gabriel Garcia Marquez Meets Ernest Hemingway
Thanks to Paige Williams for bringing this to my attention.
David Dobbs, author of the Kindle Single bestseller My Mother's Lover, writes features and essays for publications including the Atlantic, the New York Times Magazine, National Geographic, Nature, and other publications. He is working on his fourth book, The Orchid and the Dandelion. You also follow his wider wanderings on... Read more
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I need never leave my tower. I can see from here. I can live from here. I can be free of the burden of their need, their neverending need. I gathered, grinded, chopped, brewed, and boiled, and steeped, and distilled until I found the formulas that would serve so that I need never leave my tower.
I sometimes think I must have gone mad. There is no one else to ask about such things. But I am certain that I know what I am. I see through the eyes of my raven. I swim with the flippers of my tortoise. And like my tortoise, I long to pull my head into my shell. For peace. Peace from their need.
When I was a small child, I was told that I was beautiful. Because I had hair like sunlight and cornsilk. Because I had eyes the blue of a sky washed clean after rain. Because my skin was soft and my laughter was pretty and my baby-like babbling was charming. And then when I was a bigger child, I was told I was clever. Because my gaze was keen. Because my hands were quick. Because my speech was clear. My lessons were given once and only once, because I needed no second chances.
Because of my beauty and my cleverness, much was expected of me. And being privileged, I knew it was my duty to fulfill those expectations, every one as the price to be paid for my good fortune. For luxury and prosperity. For I would one day be a lady. Lady Rampion. So I accepted this.
But something changed one day when my mama was combing my hair. Now I understand why her eyes widened as I glanced at her in the mirror. Why she recoiled. Why she paled. Why she let go of my hair as if she had touched a hot griddle…or a deadly snake. She saw it peeking out from under the strands of my yellow hair. Silver.
It is one of the signs of a natural-born witch that she may grow hair of some precious metal. Copper was commonest. Then silver. Hair of gold, not blonde like mine, but of true gold was rarest of all and denoted a witch of great power indeed.
Silver hair meant a witch with powers of binding and healing. It was no wonder I was able to bond with my animal friends. It was no wonder my blood served to feed that great gargantuan vine that guarded me from intruders. And once I discovered that I was meant for healing, I would not let any beast suffer being trapped in that vine. I learned how to commune even with the plant, which had no heart or head as beasts do, but which throbbed with life through every coil and thorn.
Mama got hold of herself that day and she snipped the silver hairs down. Until that day, she had kept my hair long, past my shoulders and down my back. But she cut it all off that day until the ends brushed my chin. When my father asked, she whispered to him in a corner. And he too looked at me as if I were suddenly a strange new beast let into the house, a curiosity and possibly a danger.
They were never unkind. That's not why I left. And nor did I do something horrible, cause some injury. They did not cage me or abuse me.
But I went quickly from being a child, a girl, a little stripling who showed some cleverness, to being regarded as some sage who had wisdom beyond that known to any mortals. I was taught and trained. I was separated from what few playmates I had. My hair was kept short. I was told it was for my best that it should be so and for my family and my town and my country. I wonder now if they feared that if I knew the word for what I was, I might attempt to grow my power, to misuse it, to toss it about like a sword that was too heavy and unwieldy. They honored me, the people of my town. They feared me. They needed me. They came to me with problems and I solved them. They came to me with sorrows and I bore them. I studied and I focused and I strained. And they praised me with one breath and asked for more with the next.
I did not know what my silver hairs meant. But everyone else did. I healed them. And I healed them. I healed their spirits. And soon, I would learn to heal their flesh, a skill that I was told was more difficult than healing spirits.
But before I could learn, I ran away.
Caring for myself was no great burden to me. Having no one's help was a fate I could accept. I could bear my own need if there was no one else to share that burden. But I could not bear my own need and the needs of so many others who never stopped coming. If they could only heal themselves for a while. Give me rest.
They would not. If I wanted rest, I would have to take it.
So I did. I wandered. I wandered far and wide and one day, I came across the tower in the middle of the wood. I explored it. It was abandoned. A lookout perhaps from some bygone age. But it was sturdily built. I made it my haven. And I went there when I needed rest.
Then one day, someone found me there. She stumbled upon the tower by mistake as I had. The young woman called out and I could have remained hidden. But the stranger was tired and hungry and cold. It was my duty to answer. So I went down to her. I fed her. I listened to her tale of woe. I walked her to the nearest town through a long and winding route, so she would not easily remember the way back. And the entire while I was fuming with anger. For my tower, my haven, had been breached.
When I returned to the tower, I decided I would remain there for days, perhaps weeks. I began to gather what I needed. I admit that deep within my mind I considered never returning to my town. But on the surface of my thoughts, I meant only to stay for a fortnight, or a month perhaps. Perhaps two.
Bereft of friendships with children, I had taken to speaking with animals. And among my favorite friends were a raven and a tortoise. It was they whom I chose as my proxies. For while I longed to be away from my fellow human beings, and while I savored being safe and snug in my tower with my books and my parchment and my spells, I also longed to wander the world.
The tower was difficult to find. But not impossible. My family did find me, but not before a year had passed. Not before I had discovered that as my hair grew so grew my power. For by that time, strands of silver fell among the strands of yellow, all the way down my back. By that time, my thorny vines twisted around the tower. And by that time, I had learned to fly with my clever raven, and dive into the waters with my majestic tortoise.
My mother and father pleaded for me to return. But the more they pleaded, the more obstinate grew my heart. They did not know that I kept watch over them. That I would come to them when they truly needed me. But I could not trust their gentle hearts to protect me from those who coveted my powers. I would never be a great witch, not as I was, locked away in a tower by myself. But I was a witch nonetheless. And all witches had power.
My mother and father could not stop anyone else from finding the road they had taken to me. And so I twisted those roads. Yet still, another two years hence, someone found me again.
I did not recognize him at first. When last we met, we were children. And now we were almost grown. We were both in our eighteenth year. I had not seen him coming. I had not been watching the roads to the tower in many months. I had been soaring with my raven over oceans and landing on ships and watching sailors. When a voice called out, I thought it was one of the sailors, until I heard the voice call my name.
When I looked down through the tower window, I saw my old friend. And his handsome face stirred some longing in me. I pushed aside my sudden desire to come closer to my once-friend. For I hadn't only seen wonders in the two years since I last saw a person with my own eyes. I had also seen horrors. Disease and cruelty and despair. Once, just once, I asked my raven to fly down and intervene. And she did. She attacked a man who had struck his dog with a vicious blow and had his hand held high to strike his son. The boy escaped. And my raven escaped with only but a few lost feathers. But I was too cowardly to have her fly into that village again, to check if the boy had returned after all. For where else could he go but back into the home of his tormentor?
I knew it was folly to go near people and I would spend time soaring over mountains and cliffs, or swimming alongside great mythic beasts of the seas. But my curiosity drew me back to people every now and then.
Now, I looked down at the boy who had once been my friend as he called up to me. He said he had been searching for me all that time. When my parents returned home and told him where to find the tower, he followed their directions but found no luck, for unbeknownst to him, I had confused the roads that my parents had taken to find me.
I told him I would not come down. And to that he laughed and said he would not ask of me what I did not wish. He only missed me, his friend. And he feared for me after what he heard from my parents. I told him he need not fear and that he could be on his way now that he had seen to me. I was beginning to remember him and I wanted him gone, for he stirred feelings in my heart that I had not felt in many years. That even my own parents had not stirred.
He would not leave. He had brought a picnic with him and he sat and ate it and told me stories about himself and his travels and our town even after I had retreated from the window.
After some hours, he grew quiet and I was tempted to see if he had gone. I tried to read, to distract myself, but my curiosity was too strong. I looked down from the window. And I felt a twinge of disappointment for he was indeed gone. But by the next morning, I had refreshed myself. I had convinced myself it was pleasant to see my friend and just as pleasant to be done with him. I could have twisted the roads again, but for some reason, I did not.
Then at lunchtime, I heard the sweetest of singing outside my window. And I recognized the voice. It was him again. My friend. He sang and as I watched, he sat again on the ground outside the tower, far from the thorny vines. He waved to me when I he saw me. He had brought a flute and he played it. He stayed for many hours, singing and playing, and then as the day before, he left.
The next day, he did not come during lunchtime. But even as I felt vindicated at the fickleness of people, I heard his merry singing in the evening. He stayed for only an hour and he tried to call up to me. But I would not answer.
Again he came the next evening and the next. He never asked why I was in the tower. He never asked me to come down. He only asked that I speak with him as I once had when we were children. And as the days passed, I found that I liked his company. And I began to speak to him. And laugh with him. And even sing with him.
But I did not lose my suspicions. I sent my raven to spy on him one day and saw a troubling sight. My friend lived in a humble hut in a village nearby. Near and yet far because of the enchanted roads that led away from and around my tower. As I watched through my raven's eyes, my friend paced the length of his little hut and in his hands he held a dagger. He shook his head and gazed at the dagger.
And strangely, though I suspected what he meant to do with that dagger, my heart did not harden toward my friend. I decided then that I must face him.
I was not surprised when one day after our laughing and singing, he asked if I would consider coming down. And I was not surprised when after my refusal, he asked if I would then consider letting him up. He had seen how long my hair was and he joked that if I should let it down, it was long enough and strong enough for him to climb. I laughed at the silly notion. I had rope aplenty of course. Though I did not need it. I could part the thorny vine now if I wished. And so I did.
And my friend climbed up the tower.
I had not been that close to another person in so many a year that I wanted to both embrace him and fly from him. When first he caught sight of me, he gazed at my face, into my eyes, and he beamed. But then tears filled his eyes and his smile receded as sunlight recedes behind a raincloud. He produced the dagger then. My hair spilled all over the chamber. He need not have approached me to begin cutting it off and by doing so cutting off my powers.
But he frowned and flung the dagger aside. He told me what he had intended. My family and the elders of our town knew my powers had grown. And though I did no one any harm, there were those who still sought to direct my powers, who believed that I belonged to the town. My friend had been sent to charm me, to get close to me, and to cut off my hair so that all my spells would be broken. The roads to my tower would untwist. The thorny vine would wither. I could be reclaimed and my power harnessed. And I would be yoked once again to the needs of others.
But even as my once-dear friend begged my forgiveness for agreeing to betray me, he entreated me to return on my own, to use my powers, my silver powers of healing, to do good whether in their town or some other town. There was both truth and folly in what he said. Even as he had stirred my heart to fondness before, he now stirred it to anger.
In my rage, I cast him from my tower. I had expected his betrayal. I had thought myself prepared for it. But I was not. And yet. I loved my friend. I loved him still. I did not let him fall to his death into the deadly thorns below. I stretched out my hands and with all my power, I eased his fall and let him down gently. I did not see him leave, for I was exhausted by the effort. And when I looked about, I saw that several strands of my hair had fallen out.
I rested then and thought myself done with yet another loved one.
But I was wrong. He returned the next day. He called out to me. Once again, he begged my forgiveness. And once again, he begged me to come down and see the world with my own eyes. For it was a world full of hurt and I could bring hope and comfort to it. And he, being my friend, could bring comfort to me. But I hardened my heart toward him. I would not come to the window.
I only knew he returned because I heard his voice. Every day at first. Then only once every week. Then once a month. I knew he would soon tire of his efforts. For what was I to him who was such a jolly and good fellow that he could find a friend in any town or village in the land? But even if it were some months before he returned again, return he would. It seemed I should never been rid of him.
Then one day, when he came, he was not alone. He had brought someone with him. A young woman. I was intrigued and so I peeked from the window, hiding myself in its shadow so I could see them but they could not see me. I noticed that my friend had grown older. Not much taller, but more muscular. He had told me he had lost his fortunes and now worked in a mine. Such work required strength.
The woman was his betrothed, he said. And he wanted me to know that they were both my friends now. The young woman, who seemed kind and worthy, was honest and said she did not know if she and I could be friends, but that she wanted that we should be. For she loved her betrothed, and wanted to love any friend whom he loved. A part of me searched her flaming hair for strands of copper and wondered if she were a witch and if we could indeed be friends. But the greater part of me doubted her.
From that day onward, they sometimes came together. Sometimes each one alone. And I learned much more about my old friend and my new one than they learned about me, for I was silent.
Then a time came when for almost the span of a year, my friend came only by himself. And in my cruelty, I finally deigned to speak to him. I asked him what had become of his wife, and if she had finally tired of her husband coming to visit another woman in a tower with whom he seemed obsessed.
My honest friend admitted that it was not only for himself that he came all these years. I nodded.
And the next time he visited me, he had a baby in his arms. His baby. His daughter. And now he told me that I had the friendship of his whole family. And though it had been years, I accused him of trying to allay his guilt for agreeing to strip me of my powers, to force my return to a home I had fled in despair. He said he would like my forgiveness, but did not need it, for he had forgiven himself long ago. And I knew my friend was trying once again to teach me a lesson, but I was not ready to learn it.
He continued to bring his little daughter to me. She was a vibrant child. Red-haired and kind like her mother. Rambunctious like her father. She was always polite to me even when she asked me all the obvious questions a child would ask. She asked why I was up in the tower, of course, and when I would come down and play with her.
And I wondered if my friend was trying to teach her some lessons as well. Maybe he wanted her to see that while I was safe from the rest of the world, I was stuck. And that a person was never meant to live, trapped, imprisoned, whether by others or by one's own self.
I never came down, but I spoke with the girl and sang with her and read her stories from my books. And she called me her auntie. And I began to soften toward her as I had softened toward her father. But I was warier now. And older, though I did not look it, youth being another benefit of the power from my silver strands of hair.
One day, the little girl came to my tower by herself, which she had never done before, and she was crying. I asked her why she wept. She said her mama and papa had been fighting. They had been fighting for weeks and she had bore it all, but at last today, she could not bear it. She fled and she found herself at the tower, because she did not want to go to her friends and have them see her crying. She just wanted to get away. Somewhere quiet, away from people.
I gazed down at her then, stunned, for her words had been my words. Her thoughts had been my thoughts. So long ago. So many countless years ago.
Some part of me considered letting the girl up as I had once let her father up, up into my tower. Sure enough, the girl wiped her eyes and looked up at me and she exclaimed that she wished she could find her own tower to escape into for just a little while. And again, her words struck me, for I too had only meant to be up in the tower for a little while.
I asked my little niece what her parents were fighting about. She gave no clear answer, for she was a child and her mother and father tried to spare her from their pain. But I gathered it had something to do with her father's work in the mine. My friend's fortunes had all gone to a cruel older brother who shared nothing with his four siblings. And so my friend had gone from prosperity to poverty. He loathed the dangerous work of the mines, but the wages were too good to be passed up by a man who sought to re-build his wealth. He often spoke to me of his dream to open a shop of some kind in town, perhaps a shoe shop or a tailor's shop. I resolved to ask my friend about his woes the next time I saw him. His daughter, stronger than ever I was, recovered herself after we played some riddle games. I made her promise to return and come back with her father. I had never made such a request before. Her eyes brightened and she beamed so brightly that I wondered if I had unknowingly cast a spell on her.
I expected her return the next day with her father. I had prepared my questions. I had resolved to help him. I could do so from my tower. I would find a way to stay in my tower as I wanted and do good in the world as he wanted.
But they did not come. And they did not come the next day. Or the next. I waited for days. But at last, I lost patience. I sent my raven out to the village, searching for my friends. She found them and she perched by the window and cocked her head. Through her eyes I saw my friend lying in a sickbed. His eyes were bandaged. His legs were missing below the knees. His bandages were clean but they were many. Beside him sat his wife, who had stopped visiting me because she was again with child. And on his other side sat his daughter.
And once again, I felt a great rage. But the rage was for me this time. For I had been a great fool.
I called back my raven. And I started down the tower. I waved aside the thorny vines and they made way for me as they had made way for my friend all those years ago.
I enchanted my hair so it would twist itself into braids and tie itself about me. It was heavy, the burden of my hair, but I carried it all the way to the village, to my friend's cottage. I knocked upon the door and when the my little niece answered she looked up at me with awe in her gaze. She said nothing but led me to her father. Her mother looked at me and there was not awe in her face but hope. For she knew what I was. I nodded to her. I took my friend's hand. And I began to do what I should have been doing all along. I began to heal him.
I don't remember how long it took. My friends tell me it was hours. My little niece and her mother claim they saw all my hair turn silver and glow like moonlight. And then it began to fall out and as it did, my friend's limbs began to grow back. And he began to groan for he woke from his stupor and he felt some pain and confusion. And his family held him as I worked.
When I was done, all my hair had fallen out. It lay on the ground, all grey and dead now, its power gone. And I felt myself growing older and older. A great exhaustion swept over me.
As I lay down, I saw my friend rise up. He removed the bandage from his eyes and looked upon his wife and daughter.
I smiled and closed my eyes and rested in the home of my friends.
Before we returned to it, I already knew that the tower had fallen, for it held the last of my power and I had brought it down to heal my friend. I felt no loss. It was indeed a prison. I still wanted to live apart from others, to protect myself, to keep my distance, but not in a prison. I needed a haven, a true haven.
With the help of my friends, I built a cottage in the middle of the forest, near a creek, a long ways from the village, but not too long. I wasn't worried that I would get too many visitors, save for friends. For who else would visit an old bald woman in the middle of the forest except for her friends?
The tower may have fallen, but I recovered all my books. And I brought my raven and my tortoise to me. And though I had lost my power, I still had the skill of potion-making. I kept learning. And I helped and healed when I could. I rested. I worked. And I visited my friends and they visited me. My friend opened a tailor's shop and brought me scarves and turbans to wrap around my head. I was not yet prepared to visit my old home and my old parents, but I kept watch over them through my friend, who visited them for me.


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Home → Baby's first research
There may be strong similarities between the approach scientists take to learning about the world and the approach that very young children take.
Baby's first research
Photo credit: Baby photo provided by mikelietz's flickr photostream; lab photo courtesy of Chelsea Specht, Plant and Molecular Biology, UC Berkeley.
A geneticist working at her lab bench and and a six-month-old baby playing with his food might seem to have little in common. After all, the scientist is engaged in serious research to uncover the very nature of the physical world, and the baby is, well, just playing … right? Perhaps, but some developmental psychologists have argued that this "play" is more like a scientific investigation than one might think.
Take a closer look at the baby playing at the table. Each time the bowl of cereal is pushed over the table edge, it falls to the ground — and, in the process, it reveals critical evidence about how physical objects interact: bowls of cereal (as well as pacifiers, blocks, books, bananas, and other physical objects) do not float in mid-air, but require support to remain stable. It is likely that babies are not born knowing this basic fact of the universe; nor are they ever explicitly taught it. Instead, babies may form an understanding of object support through repeated experiments — systematic interactions with the world around them — and then build on this knowledge to learn even more about how objects interact (e.g., how much physical contact is necessary for support, how the shape of the objects affects one's ability to support the other). Though their scales and accoutrements differ, the baby's investigation and the physicist's experiment appear to share the same aim (to learn about the natural world), overall approach (gathering direct evidence from the world), and logic (are my observations what I expected?).
Though the claim is controversial, some psychologists have argued that many of children's ideas of how the world works resemble scientific theories:
These ideas are relatively coherent explanations for some set of phenomena in the natural world.
Children use them to generate expectations about how people and objects will behave.
They can be revised or rejected in favor of a new explanation if the weight of evidence goes against the currently accepted explanation.
Some psychologists propose that young children learn about more than just the physical world in this way — that they investigate human psychology and the rules of language using similar means. For example, it may only be through repeated experiments, evidence gathering, and finally overturning a pet theory, that a toddler will come to accept the idea that other people can have different perspectives and desires than he or she has — that, for example, inappropriate behavior can be hidden from a parent's view by simply moving behind the sofa or that, unlike the child, Mommy actually doesn't like graham crackers.
Viewing childhood development as a scientific investigation provides insight into how children learn, but it also offers a provocative perspective on science and scientists. Why do young children and scientists seem to be so much alike? Psychologists Alison Gopnik, Andrew Meltzoff, and Patricia Kuhl have proposed that science as an endeavor — the impulse to explore, explain, and understand our world — is simply a holdover from our infancies.1 Perhaps evolution endowed human babies with curiosity and a natural drive to explain their worlds — and adult scientists simply tap into the same explanatory drive that served them as infants. The same cognitive systems that make young children feel good about figuring something out may have been unwittingly co-opted by adult scientists. As Gopnik and her colleagues put it, "It is not that children are little scientists but that scientists are big children."
1Gopnik, A., A.N. Meltzoff, and P.K. Kuhl. 1999. The scientist in the crib. New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc.
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Amélie Vincent collaborated with the 3 stars Chef Mauro Colagreco, to organize conferences during Chef's World Summit in Monaco summit in Monaco last November.
The main topics were the future of food, and nowadays issues we are facing in the food system.
The Foodalist interviewed among others Mrs Vandana Shiva who is an Indian activist, Nobel Price, who has made a fundamental contribution to changing the practices and paradigms of agriculture and food.
T.F.: What is your opinion on meat consumption today?
V.S.: We must immediately say no to farm-raised meat. We will start to move to less meat, and more meat fed at a distance rather than grain-fed meat. We need to increase the vegetarian component of all diets, Because diversity is necessary. Eating is, after all, an act we commit. We can say "I will eat ecological, I will eat sustainable, I will eat local I will eat healthy". Eating well is not a luxury, it's a necessity.
T.F.: Do you have any advice for the chefs today?
V.S.: Farmers are forced to go out of bed. Chefs are an element of the food system. They must become ambassadors of the land, ambassadors of farmers, ambassadors of future generations.
T.F.: How can we change education?
V.S.: Children have the right to know how to cook, children have the right to be little leaders. Small children should grow up knowing what are their bodies, their food, how they are grown and how they can be transformed. Junk food is a violation of the rights of the child.
T.F.: Do you think that people's identities can change the way they see food?
V.S.: You know who you are when you know what you eat, and when you know what you eat, you know that everyone in your area eats that way. And you become a community, not divided societies. So identity and food go very well together. Knowing our food, knowing the traditions of our ancestors and knowing what we need to manage for the future is a very important way to counter the culture of hate and fear that is spreading everywhere.


text:
w57 2/1 pp. 69-72
Do You Know the "King James Version?"
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The Watchtower Announcing Jehovah's Kingdom—1957
Similar Material
BACKGROUND TO THE AUTHORIZED VERSION
OPPOSITION TO THE AUTHORIZED VERSION
KING JAMES BIBLE ALREADY CHANGED
KINGLY AUTHORITY—A NECESSITY OR BENEFIT?
The King James Version—How It Became Popular
Awake!—2011
Read the Bible to Understand It
Bible Knowledge Made Plain Through Modern Translation
Renderings of Scripture Texts Compared
What do most users of the King James Bible not know about this translation? Do those who object to changing the King James Version know that it has already been changed in thousands of ways?
WHEN a modern translation of the Bible appeared in print not long ago, a young churchman thought to crush it by informing his people: "If the Authorized Version was good enough for St. Paul, it is good enough for me." Aside from the fact that the English language, of course, was not even in existence in the apostle Paul's day, the incident serves to prompt this truth: More people in the English-speaking world use and accept the King James or Authorized Version than any other single Bible translation. In fact, so highly esteemed is this translation that many persons venerate it as the only true Bible. This raises some questions.
Do these countless persons who use the King James Version know why, despite objections from churchmen, modern translations keep rolling off the presses? Do they know why the King James Version itself was once opposed by the people? Do they know why, despite vigorous protest and opposition, the King James Version entered into the very blood and marrow of English thought and speech? Do they know what illuminating document is probably missing from their own copies? In short, do they really know the King James Version?
To know the King James Version or, for that matter, any Bible translation, we need to know why the Bible was written. Jehovah God, its Author, caused it to be written to reveal himself to mankind and to express his purpose. Yes, God became the Author of this Book so that we could have the thoughts of God, so we could know the purpose of man, so we could know the destiny of both wicked and righteous men and so we can come to know man's Creator, Jehovah.
The purpose of Bible translation, then, is to take these thoughts of God, originally written in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek, and put them into the common languages of today. Bible translation makes God's Book a living Book. So true Christians read the Bible, not to be entertained by clever turns of expression, unusual words, excellency of style, striking rhetorical devices or felicities of rhythm, but to learn the will of God. It was for this reason that the King James Version came into existence. That was in 1611.
Even earlier, as we learned in the previous issue of The Watchtower, many English translations of the Bible had come into being. There were the works of Wycliffe, Tyndale and Coverdale. There was the Matthew's Bible of 1537, the Great Bible of 1539, the Geneva Bible of 1560 and the Bishops' Bible of 1568.
First among the so-called "authorized versions"—those translations authorized by religious monarchs or religious groups for use in their religious congregations—was the Great Bible. Second of the authorized versions was the Bishops' Bible. This translation, however, was not very progressive in its improvements; it even ignored many improvements made in earlier translations. Also its phraseology was not as simple and direct as others; thus the Geneva Bible remained the people's favorite.
Thirty-five years after the second authorized Bible appeared, King James I came to the throne of Great Britain. Since the Spanish Armada had been defeated in 1588, a period of comparative peace and quiet prevailed. This heightened intellectual effort. King James himself enjoyed Bible study and translation. He even wrote a "Paraphrase upon the Revelation of St. John." Though interested in the Scriptures the king did not originate the idea for a third authorized version. From what source sprang the idea?
One day in 1604 the Hampton Court Conference was convened. King James presided. The king listened to the complaints of the Puritans. The complaints, touching on many subjects, finally came to the matter of the Bible. John Reynolds, Puritan president of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, moved that there might be a new translation of the Bible. Why? "Those which were allowed in the raignes of Henrie the eight and Edward the sixt," he said, "were corrupt and not aunswerable to the truth of the Originall."
No immediate action was taken by the king. But the idea appealed to him, and presently he gave order for this translation to be made.
But before the version came to birth much work had to be done. The king, vigorously supporting the project, approved a list of some fifty scholars to serve as translators. How would the version be made? It was not to be a translation from the Original but rather a revision of the versions then in use. This is evident from the instructions given by King James to the translators. They were: "The Bishops' Bible to be followed, and altered as little as the Original will permit. And these translations to be used when they agree better with the text than the Bishops' Bible—namely, Tyndale's, Matthew's, Coverdale's, Whitchurch's, Geneva."
Slowly a new translation emerged. Finally in 1611 the first edition of the Authorized Version issued from a London press. In honor of the king it was called the King James Bible. The translators had worked for years, using basically the inherited Tyndale-Coverdale text and adding their own improvements. These centered particularly around the choice of words and enhancement of the rhythmic quality of the text. The result was a version superior to its predecessors in accuracy of translation and refinement of literary style. Did the people now rejoice that they could get God's thoughts more accurately?
Long before the new version came off the press opposition to it had mounted. Why? People had grown familiar with the versions they had; they preferred to keep what was familiar. These many persons had lost sight of the fact that true Christians read the Scriptures, not for their literary effect, but "for teaching, for reproving, for setting things straight, for disciplining in righteousness, that the man of God may be fully competent, completely equipped for every good work." So, being used to the Geneva Bible and not keeping in mind the purpose of the Scriptures, the people frowned on the new King James Version. The fact that it made improvements over earlier translations meant little to them.—2 Tim. 3:16, 17, NW.
From almost every quarter the King James Bible met opposition. Criticism was often severe. Broughton, a Hebrew scholar of the day, wrote to King James that he "should rather be torn asunder by wild horses than allow such a version to be imposed on the church."
The translators, not unaware that people preferred to keep what had grown familiar, knew that their work had unleashed a storm. They tried to calm the people down. They wrote a "Preface of the Translators" to explain why the King James Version was made. This preface is called by the Encyclopedia Americana "a most illuminating preface describing the aims of the translators which unhappily is omitted from the usual printings of the Bible." Thus most Authorized Versions today, though they contain a lengthy dedication to King James, omit the preface. Its presence would clear up many misunderstandings about the purpose of the revision. The reader would learn that strong opposition was expected:
"Many mens mouths haue bene open a good while (and yet are not stopped) with speeches about the Translation so long in hand . . . : and aske what may be the reason, what the necessitie of the employment."
The reader would learn that the King James Version was a revision of earlier works made with a modest hope of improvement and no thought of finality: "Truly (good Christian Reader) wee neuer thought from the beginning, that we should neede to make a new Translation, nor yet to make of a bad one a good one, . . . but to make a good one better, or out of many good ones, one principall good one, not justly to be excepted against; that hath bene our indeauour, that our marke."
In time the clamor died down, and the King James Version prevailed over the Geneva Bible. For more than two and a half centuries no other so-called authorized translation of the Bible into English was made. Little wonder that many people began to feel that the King James Bible was the only true Bible. Like many people who once objected to any change in the Geneva Bible, many persons today object to any change in the King James Bible. They oppose modern translations perhaps as vigorously as the King James Version itself was once opposed. They say they do not want the beautiful King James Bible changed. Is this viewpoint based on a sound foundation?
To the surprise of many people the King James Bible has already been changed; today no one reads the King James Version in its original form. Explaining why this is so the book The Bible in Its Ancient and English Versions says: "Almost every edition, from the very beginning, introduced corrections and unauthorized changes and additions, often adding new errors in the process. The edition of 1613 shows over three hundred differences from 1611. . . . It was in the eighteenth century, however, that the main changes were made. . . . The marginal references were checked and verified, over 30,000 new marginal references were added, the chapter summaries and running headnotes were thoroughly revised, the punctuation was altered and made uniform in accordance with modern practice, textual errors were removed, the use of capitals was considerably modified and reduced, and a thorough revision made in the form of certain kinds of words."
So many changes have been made, many of them in the readings of passages, that the Committee on Versions (1851-56) of the American Bible Society found 24,000 variations in six different editions of the King James Version!
What, then, of the objections raised by persons who say they do not want the King James Bible changed? Since the King James Version has already been changed, they lie on a crumbled foundation. If these persons do not want it changed, then why do they use, instead of a copy of an edition of 1611, an edition that has been changed? They use a present-day edition of the King James Bible because it is far easier to read. They appreciate, perhaps unknowingly, the improvements the later editions have made. They do not like the odd spelling and punctuation of the 1611 edition; they do not want to read "fet" for "fetched," "sith" for "since" or "moe" for "more," as the edition of 1611 had it. Thus improvement, when needed, is appreciated, even by those who say they object to any changing of the King James translation.
It is this very improvement that modern translations are providing by keeping pace with changing language, this for the purpose of making God's Word clear, understandable, alive.
One of the major reasons the Authorized Version is so widely accepted is its kingly authority. There seems little doubt that, had not a king authorized this version, it would not today be venerated as though it had come direct from God. Does this kingly authority give a translation special benefits? Is it even necessary?
No, God himself authorizes his dedicated servants to translate his Word into understandable language. The fact that King James authorized a Bible translation does not make it the exclusive version that the Author of the original Bible approves his servants to use in any one language. In fact, kingly authorization, instead of great benefits, has brought serious disadvantages.
King James set forth certain rules of procedure. These the translators followed. One of those rules was that "the old Ecclesiastical words [were] to be kept." Thus the translators were bound to follow the Bishop's Bible in using certain ecclesiastical words, whether or not these words represented an accurate translation of the original Bible. For example, the ecclesiastical word "bishop" appears in the King James Version, although the original word, correctly translated, merely means "overseer."
In many respects the beliefs of King James adversely affected the Bible translation called after his name. The translators, feeling somewhat bound to favor the king, were obliged to color the translation with the king's notions of predestination and kingly rights, as well as with others of the king's ideas.
This is apparent from the fact that some of the translators complained that they could not follow their own judgment, being restrained by "reasons of state." The result: the King James Version is not a true reflection of the minds of the translators of the version. Above all, it comes far short of being a faithful reflection of the mind of Jehovah God, as it appears in the original Bible.
Getting the thoughts of God is the vital thing. To think otherwise is a deadly deception. Said Jesus: "This means everlasting life, their taking in knowledge of you, the only true God, and of the one whom you sent forth, Jesus Christ."—John 17:3, NW.
How modern translations aid us to take in this life-giving knowledge will be the subject of a future Watchtower article.


The 12 Finalists For National Toy Hall Of Fame!
Ok, we have the twelve finalists! The Strong's National Toy Hall of Fame released the names of the finalists for induction into its museum. Furthermore, fans may vote for their favorite finalist this year!
The 12 finalists are: American Girl dolls, chalk, Chutes and Ladders, Magic 8 Ball, Fisher-Price Corn Popper, Masters of the Universe, pinball, sled, tic-tac-toe, Tickle Me Elmo, Tudor Electric Football, and Uno. There you are, folks! The 12 finalists!
To cast your ballot for your favorites, visit the "Players Choice" ballot at toyhalloffame.org. The top 3 choices will join the other top 3 submissions by members of the National Selection Advisory Committee. The winners will be inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame in Rochester, NY on Thursday, November 8th! Public voting will take place from September 12 until September 19. Vote for your favorites today!


This step-by-step booklet guides consumers through the mortgage shopping, home buying and mortgage closing process. It warns of pitfalls to avoid and helps make this complex process understandable. The guide is also available in Spanish.


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How the Bears' Defensive Legacy Lives on Through Khalil Mack and This 2018 Team
Chicago has long been defined by its great defenses and the players who led them. And though this season's unit may remind many fans of the famed 1985 team, it embodies characteristics that have defined defenses throughout the franchise's history.
By Robert Mays Jan 4, 2019, 6:20am EST
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Vic Fangio got his first NFL job with the New Orleans Saints in 1986, when he was 28 years old. He spent nine seasons there as the team's linebackers coach, and during that time, Fangio developed a friendship with Saints general manager and longtime NFL executive Jim Finks. More than once, Finks told the young coach that if he ever had the chance, he should try to land a job in Chicago. It was a sports town, Finks used to say, one that loved its Bears. But more importantly, it was a city that loved defense.
In 2015, almost 30 years after entering the league and receiving Finks's advice, Fangio finally landed in the Windy City. Then–Bears head coach John Fox hired him as the team's defensive coordinator, and upon arriving in Chicago, Fangio found a fan base that was dying to embrace the brand of football he wanted to play. Despite the fame that past Bears defensive masterminds have achieved, Fangio jokes that he's been recognized on the street only once since taking the job, at a gas station near his home. But as teams around the NFL circle him for their head-coaching vacancies, it's clear just how beloved Fangio and his work have become. Fangio has constructed the league's most ferocious defense this season, and behind Khalil Mack's and Eddie Jackson's strong performances, it feels like a unit that uniquely belongs in Chicago.
It's hard to explain why defense seems to matter more to Chicago than to other franchises. Plenty of NFL teams are known for their past stonewall defenses and the legendary players who led them: The Steel Curtain remains synonymous with Pittsburgh; the Ravens have been defined by defense since moving to Baltimore in 1996. But over time, the work of Antonio Brown and Ben Roethlisberger has shifted the Steelers' identity. And though Baltimore has produced some of the league's best units of the past 20 years, the team hasn't been around any longer than that. For the Bears, though, all of their great moments over the past half-century have been driven by defense. When Chicago won the NFL championship in 1963, the defense allowed a league-best 10.3 points per game. The 1985 Bears are still largely considered the greatest defense of all time. In Chicago, defense just feels … right. And that's why the 2018-19 edition of this team fits so comfortably into the franchise's history. "When you're in Chicago," says former Bears cornerback Charles Tillman, "and it's third down, and it's 10 below zero, and the crowd is into it, and there's some big chubby guy with his shirt off who's trying to get the fans into it, and his beer is frozen, that's Chicago football."
Tillman was drafted by Chicago in 2003, and in those days, he says rookies were almost immediately indoctrinated with Bears lore. Dwayne Joseph, the former Bears director of player development (and current Eagles director of pro scouting), would put together an annual presentation for first-year players on the relevant moments from the organization's past—a "history lesson, Chicago Bears 101" as Tillman describes it. And plenty of those lessons revolved around defense. They discussed Bill George. Doug Atkins. Dick Butkus. Mike Singletary. Dan Hampton. The franchise's past was lined with immortal defenders, and as an incoming rookie, Tillman immediately understood that Chicago was the perfect place to be embraced as a defensive player. "It might be different in Indianapolis or Green Bay, where they want to see Aaron Rodgers throw touchdowns," Tillman says. "Here, they want to see defense."
Bears Pro Bowl defensive tackle Akiem Hicks has been with the team for three seasons, and from the start, he recognized that same defensive fanaticism—one that's only been ratcheted up this year. It's tempting to say that Khalil Mack's arrival via trade on Labor Day weekend is what transformed Chicago's defense from a steady unit into the juggernaut it's become, but the process had begun long before he arrived.
"When you're in Chicago, and it's third down, and it's 10 below zero, and the crowd is into it, and there's some big chubby guy with his shirt off who's trying to get the fans into it, and his beer is frozen, that's Chicago football." —Charles Tillman, former Bears cornerback
Chicago finished fourth in the NFC North last season with a 5-11 record, which led to the firing of Fox. But there was one bright spot on the team: Fangio's defense. The Bears allowed just 20 points per game in 2017 (the ninth-best mark in the league) despite dealing with an onslaught of injuries for the second straight season. When first-year head coach Matt Nagy was hired last January, he recognized the potential on that side of the ball and the heights that group could reach if it was healthy. So to maintain continuity, Nagy retained Fangio and asked him to build on the progress he'd already made with his defense.
Long before trading for Mack, Fangio's group looked like one of the league's most complete units. Safety Eddie Jackson had a breakout rookie season in 2017. His counterpart, Adrian Amos, was already one of the more underrated players in football. And this offseason, general manager Ryan Pace retained all three starting cornerbacks from last year's team—Kyle Fuller, Prince Amukamara, and slot man Bryce Callahan—in free agency. Hicks emerged as a star on the interior of the defensive line last season, along with recently extended nose tackle Eddie Goldman. And at linebacker, the Bears added 2018 first-round draft pick Roquan Smith next to Danny Trevathan. As the Bears arrived in Bourbonnais, Illinois, for training camp in July, they had few obvious weaknesses. "When I'm going through OTAs and I see my linebacker running 30 miles an hour to cut something off in the flat, you start to get excited about that," Hicks says of Smith. "You think, 'Man, we've got something brewing here.' … Nagy may not like me saying this, but we were dominating the offense."
Hicks says the Bears defense was already turning the corner before they landed one of the NFL's best players. With the addition of Mack, they became unstoppable. "When we stepped in this year, we had goals of accomplishing way more," Hicks says. "Then we get this cherry on top with a super-elite pass rusher. Notice I said 'super elite.' He's different."
From Mack's first few snaps in a Bears uniform, it was clear Chicago had poached a force from the Raiders. He was unblockable in Week 1 against the Packers, causing his first of six forced fumbles on the season and returning an interception for a touchdown. "I felt it when we were up 20-0 against Green Bay. Did we finish that game out? No," Hicks says of the Packers' eventual comeback to win 24-23. "But I knew at that point, if we can get up 20-0 on Aaron Rodgers, who can't we do it to?"
As Mack's dominance has extended throughout the season, it's been hard not to compare him to some of the other great Bears linebackers and pass rushers in history, like Singletary, Brian Urlacher, Richard Dent, and Wilber Marshall. But look beyond the giant legacy of that '85 team, and it's clear this defense also embodies traits that made some of Chicago's less-famous defenses successful.
During Tillman's career, the Bears were fueled by takeaways. The first dominant unit of his tenure arrived in 2005, Tillman's third season in the league and Lovie Smith's second as the Chicago head coach. That year, the Bears allowed just 4.4 yards per play, which led the NFL, and they intercepted 24 passes, tied for the second-best mark in the NFL. The following season, en route to a 13-3 finish and a trip to the Super Bowl, the Bears created a league-high 44 turnovers, including 24 interceptions. In 2012, Chicago once again led the NFL in defensive DVOA and generated another 44 takeaways. Turnover margins tend to regress from season to season, even for great defenses, but during Smith's nine-year tenure as head coach, his teams consistently finished near the top of the league in that figure. To hear Tillman tell it, generating turnovers for that unit was akin to breathing. It wasn't just a mind-set—it was an obsession. In practice, every interception or fumble was returned all the way to the end zone. Incomplete passes were scooped up and run back every time. The Bears regularly did drills that forced defenders to quickly transition from cornerback to ball carrier, linebacker to blocker. "It was something that you did, like going to the bathroom and washing your hands," Tillman says. "You get ready to eat, you grab a fork. You get in a car, you put your foot on the brake, and you put it in drive. There are certain things that you do every day. That's how we were with taking the ball away."
This year's Bears have adopted the same mind-set, complete with a Smith-era-like dedication to turning every interception or fumble into six points the other way. Chicago has generated 36 turnovers this season, five more than any other team. Fangio's crew has also scored an NFL-leading six touchdowns on those turnovers. Three of those TDs were recorded by Jackson, who's taken up the mantle previously held by players like Mike Brown as the Bears defender who's most likely to find the end zone on any given play.
Despite the consistency developed under Smith, history says that the Bears defense is unlikely to repeat this type of performance next season. Fangio will likely be hired away as a head coach after the playoffs. Amos and Callahan will be free agents this spring, and Chicago's cap limitations may hinder the team from retaining them. The Bears defense probably won't score six touchdowns next season, or intercept 27 passes. And in an era when Patrick Mahomes II can throw 50 touchdown passes in his second season, building a team around stellar defense likely isn't the best route to contend for championships year after year.
But this season, the Bears have been easy to love in part because of how familiar they feel to their city. When Mack and Co. line up against the Eagles at Soldier Field this Sunday afternoon, in the frigid Chicago air, everything about Bears football will feel like it's fallen back into place. Even if it's only for another game—or two, or three—seeing that fearsome defensive group take the field will give Bears fans a familiar feeling that they've been missing for some time.
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KFSH&RC staff are committed to providing you with excellent medical and nursing care. We believe that outstanding patient care begins with the establishment of a partnership between the patient (and his ot her family) and the staff at KFSH&RC. The following povides you with a list of your riaghts as a patient.
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To be cared for by qualified, competent and caring staff.
To be seen by a consultant within 24 hours of admission and on a regular basis thereafter.
To be kept fully informed of diagnosis, treatments plan, possible delay, possible significant complications or side effects and required follow up treatment.
To receive all necessary information to allow an informed consent to be given for any proposed procedure or treatment.
To be able to comment on and discuss the care and services they are receiving.
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text:
Plans announced for new shop on Lincoln's Brayford Wharf
16 jobs could be created
Danielle HoeReporter
Updated 15:06, 1 JAN 2020
Plans have been submitted for a new shop to open on Lincoln's Brayford Wharf North.
An application has been put forward to transform a unit underneath the residential complex One the Brayford, which if approved would see a new shop open up.
The unit, which is one of three under the development, was originally planned to be a restaurant space but planning permission is being sought to turn it into a shop.
However, it is not yet known what shop is set to open up in the space.
The One the Brayford development
The application submitted to the City of Lincoln Council does reveal that opening hours could be from 6am until 11pm seven days a week.
If approved it will also create 16 full-time jobs.
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Plans were submitted to the council on Monday, December 16 and a decision is yet to be made.
The other two units are currently still earmarked for restaurants.
One the Brayford is a residential complex made up of apartments and duplexes and penthouse apartments.
When plans were unveiled it said that the apartments and three restaurant units underneath would be completed by December 2017.
However, the three restaurant units are still stood empty.


3. Streamlined Processing – 84 months to pay off debts between $50,000 and $100,000.
Unlike most commercial payment plans, getting one through the IRS is handy as it doesn't require asset liquidation, manager approval, has little to no financial disclosure, and can be setup via internet or a single phone call.
Need a payment plan for your taxes this year? Here are a few options.
• The taxpayer hasn't signed up for an installment plan in the past five years.
In addition to the benefits listed above, this payment plan is made doubly beneficial to taxpayers as it doesn't require the IRS to file a public tax lien on their record – allowing debts to be handled quickly and privately.
Similar to a GIA, the SLIA can be obtained online, over the phone, or through Form 9465, while a federal tax lien notice can be avoided provided debts owed between $25,000-$50,000 are paid through either automated debit card deposits or payroll deductions.
• All debts are paid within the 72-month period.
Newer to the payment plan scene, this IRS pilot program is still in it's testing phase and as such works a little differently.
For taxpayers owing amounts between $50,000-$100,000, either way you look at it, a federal tax lien will be filed against you. However, you can avoid making financial disclosures to the IRS by agreeing to pay off your debts through direct debit deposits or payroll deductions – otherwise a Collection Information Statement (IRS Form 433-A or 433-F) must be completed.
Boasting an 84-month payment term, it's unclear whether Streamlined Processing has made a dramatic difference for taxpayers, but it does help to simplify the payment process a little.
For all three plans the IRS does charge a setup fee, varying from $225 for those created over the phone or paid for by check, to $31 for online agreements with a direct deposit established. Low-income taxpayers, however, can apply to have this fee waived.
In addition, most debts are held to a collection statute of limitation of 10 years from the date the balance was assessed, so if applying for a payment plan that extends longer than the statute of limitation, the payment period could be shortened to whenever your statute of limitation may expire.
Any taxpayer who can't pay their tax bills or meet the payment plan requirements can apply for an Ability-to-Pay agreement – which requires a Collections Information Statement, and in some cases liquidation or borrowing to satisfy their debts.
Want some tips on how to make the most of your payment plans? Subscribe to our blog and stay tuned for part two!


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Andy Acker, CFA
Global Life Sciences | Portfolio Manager
Andy Acker is a Portfolio Manager at Janus Henderson Investors responsible for managing the Global Life Sciences and Biotechnology strategies since 2007 and 2018, respectively. He also leads the firm's Health Care Sector Research Team. Andy was assistant portfolio manager on the Global Life Sciences strategy from 2003 to 2007. He joined Janus in 1999 as a research analyst focused on companies in the biotechnology and pharmaceutical industries. Prior to this, he worked as a strategy consultant for the Boston Consulting Group and as a health care analyst for Morgan Stanley Venture Partners.
Andy received his bachelor of science degree in biochemical sciences from Harvard University, graduating magna cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa. He also earned an MBA with honours from Harvard Business School. Andy holds the Chartered Financial Analyst designation and has 26 years of financial industry experience.
Global Life Sciences Fund
Horizon Biotechnology Fund
Investment Viewpoints Annual Outlook COVID-19
Unlocking value in healthcare stocks
Fewer COVID-related disruptions and less regulatory uncertainty could give overlooked areas of healthcare a boost in 2022.
Investment Viewpoints Healthcare
Despite sell-off, healthcare fundamentals appear strong
Like the broader equity market, healthcare stocks experienced bouts of volatility during the third quarter. But attractive valuations, continued innovation and an uptick in merger and acquisitions could help lift the sector, says Portfolio Manager Andy Acker.
Drug-pricing reform an uphill battle
Why the push for government-negotiated drug prices could prove to be a Sisyphean task.
Investor considerations Healthcare
Beating the biotech blues
The biotech sector is experiencing its worst period of relative underperformance on record. But some of history's biggest biotech pains have been followed by memorable gains.
Innovation and low valuations tailwinds for healthcare
Despite delivering positive returns, healthcare underperformed the broad market in the first half of the year. Portfolio Manager Andy Acker explains some of the reasons why – as well as why he is optimistic about the sector's outlook.
4 min watch
Biopharma's targeted approach to growth
A new drug targeting a common mutation found in tumors represents a breakthrough in cancer therapy and a potential new source of growth for biopharma.
Investment Viewpoints Coronavirus Healthcare
Making sense of COVID-19 vaccine IP waivers
Why US support for waiving intellectual property protections for COVID-19 vaccines does not spell the end of biotech growth.
Global Perspectives Coronavirus Healthcare
Health care's innovation shifts into high gear
Portfolio Manager Andy Acker explores the unprecedented number of medical breakthroughs occurring in health care and what it means for the sector.


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You are here: Home / Guest Appearance / #258 – An Interview with Bertrand Irrisou and Gerald Friedland of Audeme
#258 – An Interview with Bertrand Irrisou and Gerald Friedland of Audeme
Welcome Bertrand Irrisou and Gerald Friedland of Audeme!
Audeme has a kickstarter for the Movi platform, a speaker independent, cloudless speech detection Arduino shield.
The Movi also solves a range of privacy issues, as no audio goes to the cloud. This is in contrast to the Samsung TVs sending voices to 3rd party companies.
Dave has done a video on a voice detection chip from the 80s, the VCP200. There was also a similar version called the SPO256.
Chris mentions that there is a big difference between a modern speech synth and a Speak and Spell.
ELIZA was a 1970s NeuroLinguistic Programming product that provided a surprisingly cogent speech engine.
All of these chips are based on phonemes, which allow a conversion from sound to actual word meanings.
Audeme is using the Allwinner A13 chip which has a single core Cortex A8. It also has a built in synthesizer.
They are running Debian on board, which allows low level driver control and high level software (via Linux).
Chris has seen something similar on his mobile, the MotoX. It has a coprocessor that listens for audio cues.
Algorithms are open source, will go online when released.
Audeme will be at the Embedded System Conference later this month.
Users can expect a response time of 0.5 sec normally.
The audio front end has an Automatic Gain Control op amp, which can implement echo cancel if an external mic array is used.
The Movi was recently used to control the Romibo robot. It needed to "listen" through a set of fur.
The expected frequency response of the Movi is 50 – 16 kHz (in contrast to a 300-3kHz response for a telephone)
The processing uses MFCC. This is in combination with a DCT -> Mel spacing -> DCT cycle.
Using the Movi with a push To talk (PTT) helps to reduce overall errors. Callsigns (like Siri) also remove false triggering. Chris wants to talk to it like JARVIS (from Iron Man).
The board has a peak power requirement of 3W.
The interface, including for the Arduino, uses a RS232 protocol for the interface. This means it can be used for any platform, not just Arduino.
The code requires is mostly C/C++ for low level, Python for glue, Shell scripting for OS stuff. It's a wide variety of programming languages and platforms.
You should consider backing this project via their Kickstarter page. You can also see a variety of videos of this board in action on their Facebook page.
What's happened to the three-word titles? 🙁
Finally someone noticed! After 256 alliterative episodes, we decided to retire the practice. We were running out of words and the time to make a title kept expanding. We'll take suggestions for new ways to title episodes.
dentaku says
I noticed that when you interviewed FBZ.
You could just title the show using something interesting that was said in that episode. That's what Elicia does.


The concept of self is the most significant aspect of Whitman's mind and art. There are three important themes: the idea of the self, the identification of the self with other selves, and the poet's relationship with the elements of nature and the universe. Section 4 Passage to India! We as humans sometimes are not satisfied with what we have but these little creatures have nothing, and they are able to live happily amongst one another. Animals cannot be anything else but now. At beginning Whitman admires animals, wants to live and be turn like they. What does it say about the many traditions that served in the nineteenth century as bases for inequality, including Christianity, but also capitalism and bourgeois culture, as well as one of their most pernicious forms, the slave system? It's divided into 52 sections, but those sections aren't arranged in any regular way. Whitman emphasizes that people kneels to show their respect to other holy people such as Jesus or Buddha, while animals do not do that.
O daring joy, but safe! The message then becomes one of appreciating life and everything we have around us, such as nature in all its wonders. O Soul, voyagest thou indeed on voyages like these? I do agree with his statement, because many humans live life to be the best, there is always competition with them. He also claims that his ability to feel love for another person is a miracle. When the poet is finished with his descriptions, he says that each of these things is, in its own way, a miracle to him, like the way that day, night, space, and time seem to work together in harmony. The poet wants to make us clear that he feels more comfortable with animals than humans. He thinks how they have got them.
Moving through the ocean surviving on what it encounters. What dreams of the ideal? O you fables, spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known, mounting to heaven! I Think I Could Turn And Live With Animals. Human beings are not perfect, but neither are animals. O secret of the earth and sky! His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him, His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return. The passage is full of longing, and such blatant recognition of desire coupled with the lusty descriptions of the men's bodies shocked some contemporary readers. O soul, thou pleasest me—I thee; Sailing these seas, or on the hills, or waking in the night, Thoughts, silent thoughts, of Time, and Space, and Death, like waters flowing, Bear me, indeed, as through the regions infinite, Whose air I breathe, whose ripples hear—lave me all over; Bathe me, O God, in thee—mounting to thee, I and my soul to range in range of thee. Even though many people confess but they still continue their sin.
The captain represents the President and the ship in turn represents the United States. Cow is one of the most respectable creatures in India. This is referring to small creatures, any that floats or swims on instinct alone. Like many people, Whitman was excited about what the U. The body is a huge part of 'Song of Myself,' which takes frank, direct pleasure in all matters physical.
Have any miracles ever really happened? These works, the Suez Canal, the great American Railway, and the transatlantic cable allowed men and women to know one another in a new way. Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold— the play of light through the water, Dumb swimmers there among the rocks—coral, gluten, grass, rushes— and the aliment of the swimmers, The speaker brings to mind the image of rainbows cast by the reflections in water in the next section. A few sections later, Walt takes on a different persona. After asking himself if he is ready to go further on his journey, the reply is an eventual yes and he commands the anchor to be lifted. Or sit at table at dinner with my mother Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon Or animals feeding in the fields Or birds- or the wonderfulness of insects in the air Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down-or of stars shining so quiet and bright He continues to describe the miracle of humanity.
Section 8 Passage to India! We have selected some of Whitman's most influential poems from that collection, each of which typifies a particular facet of the poet's masterful style. The poet finds some qualities in animal which man don't have. He sees in the animals something divine, that people lost already and became the beasts. Whitman worked as a nurse during the Civil War and traveled throughout the New York area recording what he saw. I am an animal lover but I just think it is wrong.
Natural, as I stated early, animals are better equipped for survival than humans. Not only are these creature different in the dangers they pose but also in their shape and form. If so, what do you consider a miracle? Our imagination takes us out of ourselves. Sometimes Whitman feels like he's preaching, and some of the sections contain direct explanations of his philosophy. Some definitions allude to holy connotations, while others describe the improbable coming to fruition. Ans: The wish of the poet was to turn into an animal and live with them.
So the poet Walt Whitman feels more at home with them. Human superiority is a matter of opinion. But when it is analysed, it becomes obvious that the poem actually is a cry of sorrow mourning the death of Abraham Lincoln. In contrast, the humans kill each other because of greed and willingness to have power over others. It sinks and rises but is always there. Stanza 6 He continues to describe what he views as miraculous.


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Hasanabad (, also Romanized as Ḩasanābād; also known as Golzār (Persian: گلزار) and Golzār-e Kohneh) is a village in Gonbaki Rural District, Gonbaki District, Rigan County, Kerman Province, Iran. At the 2006 census, its population was 1,863, in 433 families.

References

Populated places in Rigan County

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


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New York University Professor Salary
More than 100 members of the faculty at the Newark campus of Rutgers University protested outside the Board of Governors meeting Tuesday as the possibility of a professor strike looms. The teachers'.
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How Much Does it Cost To Fly To Honolulu?
The cheapest flights to Honolulu found within the past 7 days were $325. Prices and availability subject to change. Additional terms may apply.
Now that you've bought your plane tickets to Hawaii, welcome to Honolulu - a gem of a city on the island of Oahu! Hawaii's capital and center of activity, Honolulu has it all, from an incredible culinary scene to pristine beaches. You can get away and enjoy nature one moment and take advantage of all the amenities the dynamic downtown area has to offer the next. This is the type of place you won't want to leave, so check out the rates on Honolulu flights to find the best deals on cheap Hawaii plane tickets. Regardless of whether you land at Honolulu International Airport (HNL) in December or July, you're sure to love it here.
Most Honolulu hotels by HNL Airport offer free shuttle service, but if you stay downtown, by Pearl Harbor, near Diamond Head crater, or another popular spot, your options for getting there include shuttle service, taxi service, or private car. Car rental companies are conveniently located within the airport terminal, but you'll want to make a reservation to be sure to have car waiting for you. The Interstate is located close to the airport with exit ramps that make getting to your desired location a breeze. You can expect the amenities in the hotels to be top-notch, and they will make a great place to relax and refresh before you hit the beach. For the best deal on hotel rates, make your reservation when you book your plane tickets to Hawaii.
Explore Chinatown, check out Waikiki Aquarium, and tour the Bishop Museum, where you can see Hawaiian artifacts. There is a lot to see and do here, including visits to volcanoes. It's no wonder flights to Honolulu are a hot commodity. Don't forget to set some time aside for a traditional luau and for just relaxing on the beach. No matter what plans you have after booking plane tickets to Hawaii, Travelocity can help with Honolulu vacation packages that will save you up to $537 on your next trip. Book Hawaii plane tickets today to get the best deals.
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Question : Which hotels are located near airports or major attractions in Honolulu?
Answer : We've put together a list of hotels in Honolulu close to airports and popular sights to see. Check out the hotels below. All of them are within proximity to must-see attractions and major airports in and around the city of Honolulu.
Outrigger Waikiki Beach Resort: Located in the middle of Waikiki, this beachfront Outrigger hotel is close to water sports, shops, and restaurants, and a short walk from a zoo, aquarium, and park. This hotel has a 4.00 star rating.
Hilton Waikiki Beach: Just a block from the sand, surrounded by fine dining and boutique shopping, is the Hilton Waikiki Beach. It's 4 miles (6.4 km) from downtown Honolulu, and a 20-minute cab ride from the airport. It's a 30-minute bus ride to the memorials of Pearl Harbor, This hotel has a 4.00 star rating.
Hilton Hawaiian Village Waikiki Beach Resort: With lush gardens, ponds, and waterfalls, this 22-acre Honolulu destination resort is fronted by several acres of Waikiki Beach; offers views of iconic Diamond Head Crater; a weekly Polynesian extravaganza includes traditional dance and fireworks. This hotel has a 4.00 star rating.
Outrigger Reef Waikiki Beach Resort: Located on Waikiki Beach, this popular, renovated Honolulu hotel features an island-style environment and is surrounded by Waikiki restaurants and shops. The hotel itself offers a variety of dining temptations. This hotel has a 4.00 star rating.
Question : What are the top attractions in Honolulu?
Answer : Honolulu has over 37 points of interest for you to choose from. We suggest checking out Diamond Head and Hawaii Convention Center first because they are the most popular attractions in Honolulu. Don't forget about other highly recommended spots like University of Hawaii at Manoa, USS Arizona Memorial, and Aloha Tower Marketplace. Get out there and see what the city has to offer on your trip to Honolulu!
We had oceanview and it was spectacular. The room was good sized and housekeeping place everything in neat piles that we left out.