The Hoxsey Therapy has given me a new lease on life. I was diagnosed with Lymphoma in May 1987. My local doctor said there was no cure for me and that I should enjoy my life now. Do the things I always wanted to do while I still felt like it. That was very scary. I was only 31 years old and thought, like most people, I had a long life ahead of me.
When I was told about Hoxsey, I was very leery. However, I had nothing to lose. I like the relaxed feeling at the Bio-Medical Center and the fact that there was no mention of money until the end of the visit. I felt the staff really cared about me. I went home and followed the doctor's directions closely. I returned in 3 months and was very encouraged by my report. I continued on the Hoxsey Therapy and by October 1988, my cancer was gone.
In one and a half years the tumor in my abdomen, which I was told was the size of a flat football, was gone. Not in remission, but it was gone. Unbelievable!
Another big thing that is a very big plus with this therapy is that I didn't get sick, well maybe an upset stomach from time to time, but nothing like how sick I would have been if I had gone the Chemotherapy route.
I have continued with the Hoxsey Therapy and also get check-ups by my local doctor and by the doctors at the Bio-Medical Center. It has been 9 years since I was told the cancer was gone. And I'm happy to say that my health, at this time, is very good.
I am truly grateful for everyone at the Bio-Medical Center for making available a treatment that can help and in some cases cure people with cancer. Thank you very much.
After my breast cancer was confirmed, several doctors in the States recommended surgery, followed by the conventional treatments of radiation, etc. Only someone who has faced this situation can understand the depression one feels when these procedures are explained to them.
Fortunately for me, I had heard of the Bio-Medical Center several years before and after contacting the Clinic and talking to one of the doctors decided to visit the Clinic myself. I found the doctors and staff to be extremely professional, caring and thorough. I decided to follow the Hoxsey Therapy. This was seventeen (17) years ago and I know, without a doubt, that I would not be experiencing the health and energy I now have if I had followed the conventional treatments so well known in the States.
I will always be grateful for the care I received and I know I am far from the only one who feels as I do. The dedication of everyone at the Bio-Medical Center is indeed appreciated by the many patients who have walked through their doors and regained their health.
The Hoxsey treatment is so easy to do and very important. It treats your entire body. Some neighbors wondered - and asked why would you go to Mexico? I told them I Wanted To Live. All the people, staff and doctors, etc. were all very helpful, friendly and very sincere.
I would recommend anyone with cancer and many other health problems - go to the Bio-Medical Center first.
Ever since being on the Hoxsey treatment and diet - I've never felt better in my life.
I never had an cancer symptoms and still don't! My dark, slightly bigger mole, only 1mm thick and with all margins clear, on my back - through the dye test and a few bland melanoma cells in the centinel lymph nodes - threw me into "high risk" 3rd stage melanoma! My PA, Hershey Medical Center doctors wanted to keep cutting away, extracting all lymph nodes under each arm followed by Intron A (interferon) treatments. Reading up on the side effect and potential "low quality" of life - we had no peace with their adjuvant therapy.
My husband and I prayed for wisdom and studied the Hoxsey therapy info given us by way of an Iowa farmer, curing himself of prostate cancer. Please get 2-3 opinions. Call the doctors at the Bio-Medical Center. They are very accessible, kind, honest and helpful. They care for you as a person, not a number.
September 2001, Bio-Medical Center told me I had an 80% chance my cancer would not return with their Hoxsey-Therapy. I checked in two weeks later and on October 9, 2001 a urine test revealed a negative result, meaning I was cancer-free, and I still am. I now walk through the Hoxsey therapy supplements and diet to make it all work, as a preventative, until deemed risk free. The diet is hard, takes planning, but easier than some other cancer diets.
FYI- Many organizations give free air travel to and from hospitals and medical centers for you and a family member. Call United Way of America/Delta Sky Wish at 1-404-527-8841 x 7853 or visit the website at: unitedwayatlanta.org, click on Delta Sky Wish Program.
I speak "Life" into your situation. Cancer does not mean death.


text:
How Your Sense of Humor Works
Go to LafLife.com
7 Things You Should Know About Your Sense of Humor
Everyone begins to laugh in the first few months of life. Before you could even talk, you were laughing. Your sense of humor is one of the first things that those close to you ever noticed. Your sense of humor is unique. It is part of the very core of who you are. You aren't you without it. And neither is anyone else.
Think about it: would you marry someone without a sense of humor? Could you be close to anyone without a sense of humor? How long could any relationship last without a sense of humor? How long would you last without a sense of humor? Your sense of humor may be the most interesting thing about you, here's why.
IT WILL CHANGE THE WAY YOU SEE YOURSELF AND THE WORLD AROUND YOU.
Your sense of humor brings perspective that has the power to transform your life. It makes everything more interesting, even in times of stress and boredom. It helps reframe problems that feel like dead-ends and turns them into something you can work with. Your sense of humor won't solve your problems, but it can help you handle them. Like any tool, you can learn to use your sense of humor more skillfully. As you learn to work with it, you will find that you will want to use it more often. Your sense of humor always feels good—always. But it isn't just something that makes you feel good—it is a powerful expression of your inner wisdom that reminds you of what you love in life, and what you want to share.
IT'S THE SECRET SAUCE IN GREAT RELATIONSHIPS.
Your sense of humor makes relationships work. It is the one thing everyone is looking for in a relationship. All successful relationships have one thing in common: they depend on their sense of humor. Surveys and extensive interviews of married couples and on-line dating communities identify a sense of humor as the most important thing to look for when making a commitment. You know someone understands the real you when they understand your sense of humor. That's why most people only laugh deeply when they are with good friends—it's an unguarded moment; it's the real you, with nothing faked. Love and humor are similar in a very special way—both are meant to be shared.
FOUR OUT OF FIVE DOCTORS RECOMMEND IT.
Your sense of humor is good for your health. It can help you manage and release chronic stresses at the root of disease and symptoms such as headaches, high blood pressure, heart attacks and ulcers. It boosts the immune system—laughter and cheerfulness have been shown to raise Immune System Lymphocytes, Immunoglobulin, Natural Killer Cells and Gamma Interferon. Unrelieved stress raises levels of destructive hormones such as cortisol and epiphrine; your sense of humor can help to lower them. Your sense of humor works directly on the anger and hurt feelings that result from taking yourself too seriously. It doesn't make problems disappear, but it makes them much less stressful.
MOODS CHANGE, YOUR SENSE OF HUMOR DOESN'T.
Your sense of humor is not a mood. Moods can enhance or disturb your ability to access your sense of humor; but moods come and go, your sense of humor is always with you, even if you aren't aware of it. Emotions and misfortunes can temporarily cover it over, but your sense of humor can't be erased. Your sense of humor can help you take command of a bad mood—many times, a bad mood is simply a refusal to listen to your own sense of humor. One thing you can always count on: your sense of humor will never make you feel bad. It is a unique perspective that will always work for you. It's a way of seeing and experiencing the delight in world that belongs to you even in hard times.
EVERYONE HAS A SENSE OF HUMOR.
Your Sense of Humor is called a sense because it is a faculty of perception as essential as the physical senses of touch, smell, taste, hearing and sight. Sometimes it is said that a person lacks a sense of humor, but this is fundamentally wrong: everyone has a sense of humor. Chances are that another person's sense of humor is different from yours, but that doesn't mean they don't have one. When we say that someone doesn't have a sense of humor, we are really saying that we don't feel connected to them. We can learn to develop better access to our sense of humor—access can be cultivated, visitations can be encouraged! Friendships and goodwill toward your neighbors are usually the best settings for such visitations.
IT'S A WELCOME MAT FOR SOLUTIONS TO YOUR PROBLEMS.
Your sense of humor is a profound force of attraction. It transforms fear of the unknown into enthusiasm for new possibilities that lie ahead. Your sense of humor is deeply receptive, and can help accept the changes in life that are the hardest to accept. Whatever you already have and whatever want—none of it is enjoyable without a sense of humor. It's like the flavor in food—it's the deliciousness in life. It won't necessarily make you money, but it will always grant you a truly valuable perspective and will enhance your enjoyment of life. Our sense of humor expresses our capacity to give and receive, to take in and to let go, and to enjoy whatever life brings us.
IT'S THE REAL YOU.
Your sense of humor is not about making other people laugh, or whether you can remember a joke. A musician can play a song that she doesn't like, and play it so well that her audience is thrilled. A comedian can tell a joke and get a laugh from a joke he doesn't personally find funny. But you can't really laugh at something that you don't think is funny. Your true sense of humor can't be faked. You will always find it relaxing because it's just you being you. Like sex, if you fake it, it isn't relaxing. Have you ever felt like you couldn't be yourself in a certain situation? That usually means you were in a situation where you didn't feel comfortable sharing your sense of humor. Ultimately your sense of humor is about trust, especially the ability to trust yourself. When you trust yourself you don't have to take yourself too seriously—that is, more seriously than a situation calls for—and you can really enjoy your sense of humor.
The human race has only one really effective weapon and that is laughter.– Mark Twain
Find your sense of humor and get your own personalized humor feed at LafLife.com
Categories: algorithm, business, health, How's your LafLife?, marketing, on-line dating, psychology, Recruiting, relationships, Sense of humor, stress, Uncategorized
Guess What's #1 in Online Dating

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Blank guns are mainly used for necessary self-defense or as a starter pistols at various competitions. It can be also used for firing flares. The advantage of these weapons is their authenticity. They are always made as replicas of real firearms, which guarantees their authenticity while using it againt attacker.
Pfeifpatronen flare has a loud whistling sound with a flight to a great height. Pyro flare Zink Pfeifpatronen is whistling flare with red trace. Intended for all gas pistols and revolvers.
These flares change colors during flight and have colorful tail and Crackling rain. Pyro flare Orchidea Zink 513 includes 10pcs of flares.
Self-defense pistol, which is suitable for everyone due to compact dimensions. The most powerfull self-defense product on our market. It can be used in a closed room also. Produced in Switzerland.
Ekol Blank Pistols EKOL LADY 88 fume, cal. 9mm P.A.
Small, lightweight, semi-automatic defense pistol, suitable for women. This gun has a metal construction and a durable plastic grip. 7 round magazine.
Replica of classic Beretta 92, which has a higher weight and larger dimensions. It is particularly suitable for men with larger hand. 10 round magazine. The advantage is the high quality finish.
Standard revolver designed primarily for self-defense. It has really good workmanship. The advantage is that it can be used both pistol and revolver ammunition.
This gun is a faithful replica of the legendary Colt 1911. It has a high quality metal body and a nice wooden grip. Of course there is safety against unwanted shot. 8 rounds magazine.
Ekol Blank Pistols EKOL LADY 88 nickel cal. 9mm P.A.


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My posts are better.
https://youtu.be/rmRouEds_2A
The is about the best argument for Star Wars over Star Trek I've ever heard, clearly delivered without cue cards and at least partly improvised, besides, "it's more visceral," which pretty much amounts to the same. Also, it's the only time I recall a genuine compliment from Conan and a peek at their true rapport.
hearTes
https://youtu.be/dXlao2KNYjQ
Korean Love Hotel Commercial
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MG_e_PSBknA
Sygorian
Is free will a thing though?
So I recently found this channel out and like it was fate, it pumps out a Berserk video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WhgUNBszps
I found the approach to the underlying themes of conciousness and form quite spot-on, even though the whole shebang with the Idea of Evil is likely not getting adressed, at least not directly.
Sygorian said:
I just watched it and I can't say that it is very good. There are several misconceptions throughout the video (including what the word "Idea" refers to in "Idea of Evil") and the author doesn't even seem to consider that some the concepts at play might come from Asia (they do).
I think i found the worst review on youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_Cv1cOGAf4. Don´t make a review when you have nothing to say.
I think it's a pretty complicated topic to dive head-first into like this, so I admire the approach. And I think they do a serviceable job addressing the Plato connection, but there are still things left on the table (kind of hard not to with this topic, its tendrils are everywhere). Still ... it's much better than most of the Berserk "lore" videos on YouTube, and we certainly aren't making these videos, so props to her for that.
Still ... it's much better than most of the Berserk "lore" videos on YouTube, and we certainly aren't making these videos, so props to her for that.
Yea that's basically why it drew my attention, there's only a handful attempts like this and it felt refreshing, albeit incomplete in some respects.
Can someone explain to me what's happening.

Seems like somebody hijacked a popular meme within manga reading circles and decided to throw it into a shitty youtube rap video?
For fans of cheesy, awesome, face melting heavy metal, there you go :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdlAZj5iDc8
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXkszF8Kq0Q
Cyrus Jong
Dark Souls Re-Bricked. What Dark Souls would look like if LEGO got the license.
A friend sent me this channel a couple of months ago and it's fascinating. The vlogger takes a material and makes the sharpest version of a knife with it. He's done this with pasta, chocolate, rice, cloth, etc.
Check this out - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeNR0guNn70
John Carpenter - The Shape Returns from the Halloween (2018) soundtrack.
Good preview since it contains parts of the main theme and other examples of what to expect from the score (it'll be interesting to see how they'll use those weird clicks and snaps and if it's effective). I can't lie though, I was hoping to hear the new version of the classic theme since I expect that they really blew it out. There's a video of the credits that contains part of it and it sounds like they go relatively big with the guitars and shit (but not where it sounds like some cheese rock =). Speaking of which, for reference here's the version from Carpenter's Anthology album, which is less atmospheric and more propulsive than the original since it's showcasing it as a composition rather than using it to set a mood: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zvQYFCLtoAg
Here's an awesome rendering of Flora's mansion in Unreal 4's engine:

Looking pretty damn good!
MiyamotoPuck
Impressive, but it's missing a few golems!
"Don't forget your poison arrows"
That looks pretty dreamy. Makes me imagine an open world game set in the Berserk universe.
ZachieChan
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UomZmLSLj38
Woke up the other day to this video, and I was pretty intrigued. I found most of this to be pretty horrible analysis, but nonetheless I think everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Thus why I'm sharing it here, any thoughts?
ZachieChan said:
Not clever, not funny, not intelligent. Just a lazy git ranting about a single episode of an anime made 20 years ago, and who can't be bothered to fully read the actual source material.
So this video came out recently : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5QuHJuas9W8
Quite an interesting channel overall for this kind of thing and the ideas/parallels presented here are rather compact and fitting.
S.T.A.R.S. Versus the Forces of Evil. Figured some would enjoy this with the recent release of the RE2 remake.
https://youtu.be/i7gIpuIVE3k
Garbage day
I'm going to have nightmares tonight.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZF0FG55TKg
(Teach me how to insert youtube videos properly!)
Not too bad for a Fender commercial:
The Game Of Thrones Theme Song | Custom Shop | Fender
Watch as Game Of Thrones creator Dan Weiss, Tom Morello of Audioslave/Rage Against The Machine, Scott Ian of Anthrax, Nuno Bettencourt of Extreme, Brad Paisl...
"Will Miura finish Berserk? Let's ask the Tarot!"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFOjbwkjCsE&t=206s


Although the recent warmer weather is a welcome arrival, heralding the start of long summer nights and garden BBQs, it also signals the start of one of the more unpleasant aspects of summer - insect bites.
And according to the BBC, calls to the NHS helpline 111 regarding insect bites are double what they usually are at this time of year.
But your typical mosquito bites don't seem to be the issue.
Reportedly, most concerns are being raised regarding horsefly bites – which the NHS say can be particularly painful, and dangerous.
In fact, according to the BBC, people are even being treated in hospital for these specific bites.
Why are we more at risk of horsefly bites at the moment?
The fly bites appear to be correlating with the current heatwave, which has seen temperatures soar to 31 degrees. Horseflies reportedly thrive in warm weather – explaining their current buzz of activity.
So what do you need to know about this particularly nasty type of fly bite – including the horsefly bite symptoms, and how to treat it if you get bitten?
Horsefly bites are usually red and raised, with white centre, and a lot more painful than your ordinary mosquito bite. Sufferers may also notice a large red, raised rash, and other symptoms including dizziness, weakness, and part of your body becoming puffy and swollen.
How can you treat these fly bites?
While many bites will go away on their own, with a treatment of paracetamol and calamine lotion, others need more medical attention.
The NHS advises that if you notice your horsefly bite taking a while to heal, it may have become infected.
This will require urgent medical treatment, such as antibiotics. So if you notice your bite isn't healing, and you suffer a fever alongside the bite, don't hesitate to seek medical attention.
Dr Nick Scriven, president of the Society for Acute Medicine, spoke to the BBC regarding the recent wave of more serious horsefly bites.
Explaining why horsefly bites are particularly nasty, he continued, "A couple of these were infected bites from horseflies.
"They actually give one of the nastier bites, because they take a chunk out of you.
So how can you try and avoid a horsefly bite?
The British Pest Control Association (BPCA) has revealed that the insects thrive in standing water. The association is therefore advising people to remove any collection of water from around their homes, if possible.
The public is also encouraged not to enter rivers or streams, where the insects often hide out.
They also suggest draining paddling pools, which could be a breeding ground for horseflies. The insect may also be more of a problem in rural areas, which typically hold more standing water.
If you experience your horsefly bite becoming bigger, more red, more painful, full of pus, or if you have a fever, seek urgent medical attention.


text:
IDFA CEO Michael Dykes reacts to USMCA's signing
Without lifting the Section 232 tariffs, it's a 'hollow victory,' he said.
The Washington, D.C.-based International Dairy Foods Association (IDFA) issued the following statement by Michael Dykes, D.V.M., IDFA president and CEO, regarding the Nov. 30 signing of the U.S.-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA) during the G20 Summit Meeting in Buenos Aires, Argentina:
"Although we're pleased that the three countries have taken the next step in moving the USMCA forward, the agreement is a hollow victory unless the Section 232 tariffs on steel and aluminum imports are lifted.
"Mexico's retaliatory tariffs of 25% on American cheeses continue to have a negative impact on dairy exports, and U.S. dairy's access to the Mexican market remains at serious risk. We're increasingly concerned that the benefits won't be realized as long as the tariffs on steel and aluminum imports remain in place.
"Once those tariffs are lifted, we will welcome the progress on USMCA, because it achieved three important priorities for the U.S. dairy industry.
"First and foremost, we preserved the duty-free market access to Mexico, our No. 1 market for U.S. dairy exports, accounting for 25% of our total dairy exports. We are also pleased to see some progress on protecting our market access for certain cheese names with additional geographic indications provisions.
"Second, we eliminated the Canadian Class 7 pricing program. Third, we obtained increased market access to the Canadian market.
"A signed USMCA is a positive step forward for the U.S. dairy industry across the board. Free trade agreements like the USMCA that open markets and lower trade barriers are crucial to continuing the trend of growing U.S. dairy exports. Maintaining and expanding access to international markets is essential for the future success of the U.S. dairy industry.
"We recognize that, given the political changes in the recent midterm elections and the uncertainty over the resolution of the steel and aluminum tariffs, it is very difficult to predict the timing of the final approval of the USMCA by the United States and implementation of the agreement by both Mexico and Canada. We will advocate for expeditious congressional approval so the agreed-to changes can be implemented as soon as possible."
KEYWORDS: dairy association dairy exports dairy trade Trade Agreements
IDFA's Michael Dykes: Passage of funding bill by U.S. Senate Committee on Appropriations is a 'win' for Americans
IDFA's Michael Dykes: Dairy should remain primary component of USDA's food distribution program
USDEC, NMPF applaud signing of USMCA
Impulse Ice Cream – Single Serve (Ice Cream) Market in the United States of America – Outlook to 2024...
DAVID MICHAEL'S TENTH ANNUAL INNOVATION ROADSHOW
Join David Michael & Co. on Wednesday, May 8, 2013 at the Hyatt Regency Philadelphia at Penn's Landing as we celebrate our tenth anniversary Innovation Roadshow.
International Dairy Foods Association (IDFA)
The International Dairy Foods Association (IDFA), Washington, D.C., represents the nation's dairy manufacturing and marketing industry, which supports more than 3.3 million jobs that generate $41.6 billion in direct wages and $753 billion in overall economic impact. IDFA's diverse membership ranges from multinational organizations to single-plant companies, from dairy companies and cooperatives to food retailers and suppliers, all on the cutting edge of innovation and sustainable business practices. IDFA uses advocacy, member engagement, and strategic communications to make a difference for dairy.
Whey To Go
Additional InformationPlant Number: 94
BW Flexible Systems
BW Flexible Systems creates flexible packaging solutions and offers the Dairy industry form-fill-seal bagging, and horizontal flow-wrapping machinery ideally designed to package cheese. Whether you are packaging whole, cubed, shredded, or grated, for retail or bulk, we have the high sanitary, operator friendly equipment for a variety of applications.


We have released a brand new version of Merlin Project, Merlin Project Express and Merlin Project Go. With version 4.3, there are two main changes we have made to improve the user experience.
macOS High Sierra: Merlin Project now supports macOS High Sierra (10.13). Users who have installed Apple's new OS do benefit from an optimized user experience. Customers who have updated their system to High Sierra are recommended to download Merlin Project 4.3 for best performance and stability.
Asian localization: Japanese and Chinese users can now work with Merlin Project in their native language. In recent years, we have gained lots of Asian customers and companies working with partners from Asian countries. To provide them with the best user experience, Merlin Project supports as of version 4.3 Japanese and simplified Chinese.
Merlin Project in simplified Chinese.
Optimization and bug fixes: We have implemented several optimizations and made stability improvements in our latest version of Merlin Project. That's why we recommend this update for all users.
Click on "Check for updates…" in the Merlin Project navigation of your application to install our latest version. As current Merlin Project user, this update is free of charge.
The newest version of Merlin Project Express can be downloaded via App Store or SetApp.
The newest version of Merlin Project Go is also available in the App Store.
You haven't bought Merlin Project yet? Give it a try and download our demo version for free. Use all features for 30 days with no risk and experience the magic yourself.


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Core Interests
Already at the beginning of his scientific career Stichweh began to work on a research program which makes use of the conceptual repertoire of sociological differentiation theory for writing a structural history of the modern system of science and of the system of European universities since the Reformation. His first two books (on 18th/19th century physics and on state formation and universities in early modern Europe) were in this field. Stichweh will again intensify research on these subjects in coming years, in a big project which will try to explain the growth of the scale of science and the genesis and expansion of scientific problems since 1750 by looking at the interrelations of science with the function systems in its societal environments.
A second complex of problems central for Stichweh is his work on the evolution of world society. This line of research combines the interest in an original theory of sociocultural evolution with a macrohistory of human societies. This sociological history extends from the settlement of all natural spaces on earth by descendants of the same small group of hominids (Homo Sapiens) up to contemporary world society based on functionally specialized global communication systems. This is furthermore connected to his writings on the social history and historical semantics of strangers which were perceived in nearly all societies as an external source of 'irritations'.
Thirdly, Stichweh works in the research group he directs in the 'Forum Internationale Wissenschaft' at Bonn on a theory of political regimes in the contemporary world. This theory postulates a bipolarity of democratic and authoritarian regimes as two variants of modernity. It traces back this bipolarity to the availability of a worldwide population of elementary political structures and processes of which both types of regimes make selective use for structure formation in building their respective nations or empires. Specifically modern is the inclusion of everyone into things going on in the political system and therefore the sociological theory of inclusion/exclusion is of especial relevance for this research.


Michael has extensive experience across multiple real estate-related industries including homebuilding, land development, residential management, commercial management, and land engineering. He also serves as a practice leader in the firm's Hospitality Practice where he works with privately-owned hotel and restaurant companies. Most recently, Michael has taken a lead role in the CohnReznick Cannabis Practice, bringing his existing skill set to this emerging industry. He is a Certified Public Accountant in the state of Maryland.
Michael has been an active member of the BGCGW Metro Board since 2013 and has served as Finance Committee Chair since May of 2015.


text:
En droit français, le génocide est un crime prévu et réprimé par les articles 211-1 et 213-1 à 213-5 du code pénal, au titre premier du livre II, intitulé « Des crimes contre l'humanité ».

Définition

Ce crime est défini comme le fait, en exécution d'un plan concerté tendant à la destruction totale ou partielle d'un groupe national, ethnique, racial ou religieux, ou d'un groupe déterminé à partir de tout critère arbitraire, de commettre ou de faire commettre, à l'encontre de membres de ce groupe, l'un des actes suivants :
 atteinte volontaire à la vie ;
 atteinte grave à l'intégrité physique ou psychique ;
 soumission à des conditions d'existence de nature à entraîner la destruction totale ou partielle du groupe ;
 mesures visant à entraver les naissances ;
 transfert forcé d'enfants.

Il a déjà été jugé que l'avortement, dans les limites autorisées par la loi, était étranger à l'incrimination de génocide.

Répression

Peine principale

Les auteurs ou complices du crime de génocide sont punis de la réclusion criminelle à perpétuité, assortie d'une période de sûreté maximum de vingt-deux ans.

Peines complémentaires

Les personnes physiques coupables du crime de génocide encourent également les peines suivantes :
 Interdiction pour dix ans des droits civiques, civils et de famille :
 droit de vote ;
 éligibilité ;
 droit d'exercer une fonction juridictionnelle ou d'être expert devant une juridiction, de représenter ou d'assister une partie devant la justice ;
 droit de témoigner en justice autrement que pour y faire de simples déclarations ;
 droit d'être tuteur ou curateur.
 Interdiction soit à titre définitif, soit pour cinq ans maximum, d'exercer une fonction publique ;
 Interdiction de séjour pour dix ans ;
 Confiscation de tout ou partie des biens ;
 Interdiction du territoire français soit à titre définitif, soit pour une durée de dix ans maximum (pour les étrangers).

Peines réprimant la négation des génocides

La loi française prévoit la répression de la négation du génocide juif. La Loi sur la liberté de la presse du 29 juillet 1881 dispose ainsi que :
 art. 24: "Ceux qui auront provoqué à la discrimination, à la haine ou à la violence à l'égard d'une personne ou d'un groupe de personnes à raison de leur origine ou de leur appartenance ou de leur non-appartenance à une ethnie, une nation, une race ou une religion déterminée, seront punis d'un an d'emprisonnement et de 45000 euros d'amende ou de l'une de ces deux peines seulement";
 art. 24 bis "Seront punis des peines prévues par ... l'article 24 ceux qui auront contesté ... l'existence d'un ou plusieurs crimes contre l'humanité tels qu'ils sont définis par l'article 6 du statut du tribunal militaire international annexé à l'accord de Londres du  et qui ont été commis soit par les membres d'une organisation déclarée criminelle en application de l'article 9 dudit statut, soit par une personne reconnue coupable de tels crimes par une juridiction française ou internationale".

L'Assemblée nationale a adopté en première lecture le  une proposition de loi permettant de réprimer la négation du génocide arménien en se référant et en complétant le dispositif législatif préexistant. Le texte prévoit que ceux qui auront contesté l'existence du génocide arménien seront passibles des mêmes peines que celles prévues par l'article 24 bis de la loi du  sur la liberté de la presse . Ces récentes propositions font suite à la loi française de 2001 qui a reconnu la réalité du génocide arménien, tout en n'abordant pas dans un premier temps la question de la sanction de sa négation (la loi se contentant de reconnaitre la réalité du génocide arménien). Cette omission est utilisée par de nombreuses officines ou personnalités négationnistes qui agissent sans crainte de sanctions .

Certains commentateurs voient dans ces lois une atteinte à la liberté de parole, alors que d'autres estiment que ne peut rester impunie la négation de la réalité des génocides.

Fait exonératoire et circonstances atténuantes

Le fait d'accomplir un acte prescrit ou autorisé par la loi ou les réglements ou un acte commandé par l'autorité légitime ne constitue pas un fait exonérant l'auteur ou le complice de génocide de leur responsabilité pénale. Cependant, il peut être tenu compte de cette circonstance pour déterminer la peine.

Prescription

L'action publique relative au génocide ainsi que les peines prononcées sont imprescriptibles.

Dispositions non codifiées relatives aux violations graves du droit international humanitaire

 Loi n° 95-1 du  portant adaptation de la législation française aux dispositions de la résolution 827 du Conseil de sécurité des Nations unies instituant un tribunal international en vue de juger les personnes présumées responsables de violations graves du droit international humanitaire commises sur le territoire de l'ex-Yougoslavie depuis 1991
 Loi n° 96-432 du  portant adaptation de la législation française aux dispositions de la résolution 955 du Conseil de sécurité des Nations unies instituant un tribunal international en vue de juger les personnes présumées responsables d'actes de génocide ou d'autres violations graves du droit international humanitaire commis en 1994 sur le territoire du Rwanda et, s'agissant des citoyens rwandais, sur le territoire d'États voisins
 Loi n° 2001-70 du  relative à la reconnaissance du génocide arménien de 1915
 Loi n° 2002-268 du  relative à la coopération avec la Cour pénale internationale

Liens internes

 Génocide, Génocide culturel
 Crime contre l'humanité
 Écocide, Réchauffement climatique
 Linguicide

Liens externes
 Legifrance

Bibliographie

 MAISON Rafaëlle, La responsabilité individuelle pour crime d'État en droit international public, Bruylant, 2004, 568p.
 DE LA PRADELLE Géraud, Imprescriptible, l'implication française dans le génocide tutsi portée devant les tribunaux, Les arènes, , 187 p.

Notes

Crime en droit pénal français
Droit
Droits de l'homme en France

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Vermont's largest and perhaps most cosmopolitan city, Burlington beckons with the perfect blend of old New England charm, arts, culture and nature. Located on the shores of Lake Champlain, between the Adirondack and Green Mountains, Burlington is one of those places you can't help but fall in love with. During the spring and summer, the streets come alive with festivals and outdoor concerts. The picnic benches, playground and bike paths of Leddy Park are filled with warm weather revelers, and opportunities to swim, fish or just kick back on the beach abound.
Two years' experience in occupational therapy preferred.


What a weekend for the West Berkshire trio.
Hungerford Town ruined many a betting coupon when winning 2-1 at big spending Billericay Town in the National League South. That's now four unbeaten for Hungerford with back-to-back wins, highly impressive form considering their predicament at such a crucial part of the season.
Trailing from a Billericay goal via Adam Coombes it was top scorer Danilo Orsi-Dadamo who equalised for Hungerford from the spot on 87 minutes with a cooly taken penalty. That wasn't the end of the drama, in added time the same man was on the scoresheet again with another goal to see The Crusaders over the line with a huge win.
Thatcham Town also put in one of their best performances of the season when beating top of the table Blackfield and Langley 1-0 at Waterside Park. With Shane Cooper-Clark ruled out through injury it was Kyle Tooze who stole the show with a quite brilliant performance playing as the lone frontman.
The recent signing from Mangotsfield worked tirelessly throughout and was involved in the winning goal when setting up Jack Alexander to prod home on 75 minutes. The visitors pushed for an equaliser but the defensive unit of Michael Miller, Jordan Williams, Gareth Thomas, Jon Beeden and on loan AFC Bournemouth 'keeper Calum Ward stood to their task and snuffed out any danger. The win lifts Thatcham up to 12th in the Southern League.
Newbury got back to winning ways after last weeks disappointment with an emphatic 5-1 win away to Eldon Celtic in the Thames Valley Premier League One.
Russell Benham scoring four with Dan Donegan also getting on the scoresheet. The win has pretty much secured promotion for Newbury who lie two points behind Maidenhead Town with six games in hand.


Bloodhounds were perfected by the monks of St. Hubert(Belgium). They however were not created by them specificly. Bloodhounds were brought to England by the Normans, and from England to the United States. Bloodhounds were bred to be scent trackers. When hunting they mainly go for the hunt, not the kill. In the past they have been used to hunt animals, criminals, runaway slaves, and lost children. Today they are used as trackers and companions.
Many hounds today are descendants of the ancient Bloodhound, such as the Bavarian Mountain Hound, Swiss Jura Hound, American Coonhound, Brazilian Fila Brasileiro, etc.
The Bloodhound is also known as the "Flemish Hound".
Today the majority of Bloohounds are black and tan, or red, but in the Middle Ages, Bloodhounds were solid in color.


All professionals at Valley Pediatrics PC maintain the highest levels of accreditation and pursue ongoing education to stay abreast of the latest trends in the medical field. Read on to learn more about our staff's experience and training.
Ronald N. Endo, M.D., F.A.A.P.
Dr. Ronald Endo has been practicing medicine for over 28 years. Board certified in pediatrics, Dr. Endo did his pediatric residency at St. Christopher's Hospital for Children after studying at Temple University School of Medicine and Harvard University.
Dr. Endo is married with two children and lives in Bucks County. He is passionate about what he does and looks forward to serving his patients each and every day at Valley Pediatrics!
Dr. Nancy Buckley has been with Valley Pediatrics for over 28 years. She attended Hahnemann University School of Medicine and completed her residency at Hahnemann and St. Christopher's. Married with four children, Dr. Buckley has a special interest in newborn care and breastfeeding issues.
Joseph H. Werner, M.D., F.A.A.P.
Joseph H. Werner, MD, FAAP has been in General Pediatrics since 1970. Dr. Werner has spent the last 25 years specializing in the treatment of ADD (Attention-deficit disorder), ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He graduated from St. Joseph's University & Hahnemann Medical School. He did his pediatric residency at Philadelphia General Hospital. Dr. Werner served in the USAF for 2 years. He and his wife have been married for over 52 years. They have 4 children and 10 grandchildren.
William J. Dennis, M.D., F.A.A.P.
Dr. William Dennis has been a pediatrician for 40 years. He graduated from Jefferson Medical School. Dr. Dennis did his residency at St. Christopher's Hospital for Children, 1970-1971. He served in the U.S. Navy as a Lieutenant Commander, 1971-1973. Dr. Dennis did a residency in pediatric neurology, 1973-1974. He had a private, solo practice for 33 years, before joining Valley Pediatrics in 2010. Dr. Dennis is an associate clinical professor at CHOP; he enjoys teaching the medical students and residents. He enjoys spending time at the shore with his family.
Eileen Sandifer is a certified pediatric nurse practitioner who graduated from the University of Pennsylvania in 1993 with a master of science in nursing. She has worked at Valley Pediatrics for over 14 years. Prior to graduate school, Eileen worked as a nurse after graduating from Frankford Hospital School of Nursing and Thomas Jefferson University. She has always enjoyed working with teens and had the unique opportunity to work with Covenant House California for 2-1/2 years -- setting up a health clinic for homeless adolescents and serving as a mobile health team nurse with Childrens' Hospital of Los Angeles.
Eileen enjoys being a clinical preceptor with nurse practitioner students from local universities. She also is very interested in issues involving children and anxiety. Eileen and her husband live in Fort Washington and have 3 children. She enjoys playing tennis, volunteering with Meals on Wheels locally and reading.
Soniya Sheth studied nursing at the University of Pennsylvania and received her Masters in Advanced Pediatric Care from Rutgers University. She joined Valley Pediatrics in 2014 as a board certified pediatric nurse practitioner. As the mother of 2 young children, Soniya brings compassion and a unique perspective when treating and relating to children.
Soniya chose a career in pediatrics because of her love for children, their resilience, and their ability to find good and happiness in the simplest of acts. She has a special interest in development pediatrics, adolescent sexual health and harm reduction (adolescent medicine), and chronic conditions. Soniya lives with her family in Moorestown, New Jersey and enjoys family movie night, being outdoors, and listening to audio books on her drive into work.
After earning her Bachelors degree in nursing from Holy Family (College) University, Anne worked as an inpatient pediatric nurse at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital for several years before transitioning to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia where she worked on the inpatient oncology unit for over 18 years. Anne earned her masters degree in nursing from Drexel University in 2016. Anne is a board certified Pediatric Nurse Practitioner in Primary Care.


text:
Nashira (AK-85) was planned as a civilian cargo ship for the United States Maritime Commission, transferred to the Navy for construction then transferred to the U.S. Army and renamed two days after launching. The ship was never commissioned, thus never bore the USS designation, and had no significant naval service.  The ship was converted to the U.S. Army Engineer Port Repair ship Richard R. Arnold and served in the Pacific during 1945.

Construction and launch
Nashira (AK-85), named after Nashira, the third-brightest star in the constellation Capricorn, was a Maritime Commission type N3-M-A1 cargo vessel originally assigned the name Josiah Paul. The ship was transferred from the control of the Maritime Commission to the U.S. Navy 1 January 1943, prior to the start of construction.

Renamed Nashira 30 October 1943, she was laid down by Penn-Jersey Shipbuilding Corp., Camden, New Jersey, 1 November 1943; launched 23 April 1944; sponsored by Miss Patricia Palmer; delivered to the Navy 25 April 1944; and transferred to the U.S. Army the same day for use as a U.S. Army Port Repair ship. Nashira was struck from the Navy List 9 June 1944.

Army Port Repair Ship
The Army renamed the ship Richard R. Arnold after an Engineer officer, Colonel Richard R. Arnold, on General Eisenhower's personal staff killed by a mine 6 June 1943 in North Africa while commanding the 20th Engineer Regiment. The ship and its crew served as part of the Army Corps of Engineers (1070th Engineer Service Detachment) in the Pacific during 1945, participated in the Battle of Luzon (Philippines), crossed the equator four times, was present in Japan after the war, and returned to San Francisco on 24 December 1945.

Disposal
Richard R. Arnold was turned in to the Maritime Commission for disposal 17 July 1947 and placed in the Suisun Bay Reserve Fleet where it remained until sold for $31,151 on 4 March 1965 to Kelbar, Inc. for scrap.

Notes

References

External links
  NavSource Online: AK-85 Nashira

Port repair ships of the United States Army
Enceladus-class cargo ships
Ships built in Camden, New Jersey
1944 ships
Type N3 ships of the United States Army
World War II auxiliary ships of the United States


text:
May Day Eve (1907)
By: Algernon Blackwood
It was in the spring when I at last found time from the hospital work to visit my friend, the old folk-lorist, in his country isolation, and I rather chuckled to myself, because in my bag I was taking down a book that utterly refuted all his tiresome pet theories of magic and the powers of the soul.
These theories were many and various, and had often troubled me. In the first place, I scorned them for professional reasons, and, in the second, because I had never been able to argue quite well enough to convince or to shake his faith, in even the smallest details, and any scientific knowledge I brought to bear only fed him with confirmatory data. To find such a book, therefore, and to know that it was safely in my bag, wrapped up in brown paper and addressed to him, was a deep and satisfactory joy, and I speculated a good deal during the journey how he would deal with the overwhelming arguments it contained against the existence of any important region outside the world of sensory perceptions.
Speculative, too, I was whether his visionary habits and absorbing experiments would permit him to remember my arrival at all, and I was accordingly relieved to hear from the solitary porter that the "professor" had sent a "veeckle" to meet me, and that I was thus free to send my bag and walk the four miles to the house across the hills.
It was a calm, windless evening, just after sunset, the air warm and scented, and delightfully still. The train, already sinking into distance, carried away with it the noise of crowds and cities and the last suggestions of the stressful life behind me, and from the little station on the moorland I stepped at once into the world of silent, growing things, tinkling sheep-bells, shepherds, and wild, desolate spaces.
My path lay diagonally across the turfy hills. It slanted a mile or so to the summit, wandered vaguely another two miles among gorse-bushes along the crest, passed Tom Bassett's cottage by the pines, and then dropped sharply down on the other side through rather thin woods to the ancient house where the old folklorist lived and dreamed himself into his impossible world of theory and fantasy. I fell to thinking busily about him during the first part of the ascent, and convinced myself, as usual, that, but for his generosity to the poor, and his benign aspect, the peasantry must undoubtedly have regarded him as a wizard who speculated in souls and had dark dealings with the world of faery.
The path I knew tolerably well. I had already walked it once before–a winter's day some years ago–and from the cottage onward felt sure of my way; but for the first mile or so there were so many cross cattle-tracks, and the light had become so dim that I felt it wise to inquire more particularly. And this I was fortunately able to do of a man who with astonishing suddenness rose from the grass where he had been lying behind a clump of bushes, and passed a few yards in front of me at a high pace downhill toward the darkening valley.
He was in such a state of hurry that I called out loudly to him, fearing to be too late, but on hearing my voice he turned sharply, and seemed to arrive almost at once beside me. In a single instant he was standing there, quite close, looking, with a smile and a certain expression of curiosity, I thought, into my face. I remember thinking that his features, pale and wholly untanned, were rather wonderful for a countryman, and that the eyes were those of a foreigner; his great swiftness, too, gave me a distinct sensation–something almost of a start–though I knew my vision was at fault at the best of times, and of course especially so in the deceptive twilight of the open hillside.
Moreover–as the way often is with such instructions–the words did not stay in my mind very clearly after he had uttered them, and the rapid, panther-like movements of the man as he quickly vanished down the hill again left me with little more than a sweeping gesture indicating the line I was to follow. No doubt his sudden rising from behind the gorse-bush, his curious swiftness, and the way he peered into my face, and even touched me on the shoulder, all combined to distract my attention somewhat from the actual words he used; and the fact that I was traveling at a wrong angle, and should have come out a mile too far to the right, helped to complete my feeling that his gesture, pointing the way, was sufficient.
On the crest of the ridge, panting a little with the unwonted exertion, I lay down to rest a moment on the grass beside a flaming yellow gorse-bush. There was still a good hour before I should be looked for at the house; the grass was very soft, the peace and silence soothing. I lingered, and lit a cigarette. And it was just then, I think, that my subconscious memory gave back the words, the actual words, the man had spoken, and the heavy significance of the personal pronoun, as he had emphasized it in his odd foreign voice, touched me with a sense of vague amusement: "The safest way for you now," he had said, as though I was so obviously a townsman and might be in danger on the lonely hills after dark. And the quick way he had reached my side, and then slipped off again like a shadow down the steep slope, completed a definite little picture in my mind. Then other thoughts and memories rose up and formed a series of pictures, following each other in rapid succession, and forming a chain of reflections undirected by the will and without purpose or meaning. I fell, that is, into a pleasant reverie.
Below me, and infinitely far away, it seemed, the valley lay silent under a veil of blue evening haze, the lower end losing itself among darkening hills whose peaks rose here and there like giant plumes that would surely nod their great heads and call to one another once the final shadows were down. The village lay, a misty patch, in which lights already twinkled. A sound of rooks faintly cawing, of sea-gulls crying far up in the sky, and of dogs barking at a great distance rose up out of the general murmur of evening voices. Odours of farm and field and open spaces stole to my nostrils, and everything contributed to the feeling that I lay on the top of the world, nothing between me and the stars, and that all the huge, free things of the earth-hills, valleys, woods, and sloping fields lay breathing deeply about me.
A few sea-gulls–in daytime hereabouts they fill the air–still circled and wheeled within range of sight, uttering from time to time sharp, petulant cries; and far in the distance there was just visible a shadowy line that showed where the sea lay.
Then, as I lay gazing dreamily into this still pool of shadows at my feet, something rose up, something sheet-like, vast, imponderable, off the whole surface of the mapped-out country, moved with incredible swiftness down the valley, and in a single instant climbed the hill where I lay and swept by me, yet without hurry, and in a sense without speed. Veils in this way rose one after another, filling the cups between the hills, shrouding alike fields, village, and hillside as they passed, and settled down somewhere into the gloom behind me over the ridge, or slipped off like vapour into the sky.
Whether it was actually mist rising from the surface of the fast-cooling ground, or merely the earth giving upher heat to the night, I could not determine. The coming of the darkness is ever a series of mysteries. I only know that this indescribable vast stirring of the landscape seemed to me as though the earth were unfolding immense sable wings from her sides, and lifting them for silent, gigantic strokes so that she might fly more swiftly from the sun into the night. The darkness, at any rate, did drop down over everything very soon afterward, and I rose uphastily to follow my pathway, realizing with a degree of wonder strangely new to me the magic of twilight, the blue open depths into the valley below, and the pale yellow heights of the watery sky above.
I walked rapidly, a sense of chilliness about me, and soon lost sight of the valley altogether as I got upon the ridge proper of these lonely and desolate hills.
It could not have been more than fifteen minutes that I lay there in reverie, yet the weather, I at once noticed, had changed very abruptly, for mist was seething here and there about me, rising somewhere from smaller valleys in the hills beyond, and obscuring the path, while overhead there was plainly a sound of wind tearing past, far up, with a sound of high shouting. A moment before it had been the stillness of a warm spring night, yet now everything had changed; wet mist coated me, raindrops smartly stung my face, and a gusty wind, descending out of cool heights, began to strike and buffet me, so that I buttoned my coat and pressed my hat more firmly upon my head.
The change was really this–and it came to me for the first time in my life with the power of a real conviction–that everything about me seemed to have become suddenly alive.
It came oddly upon me–prosaic, matter-of-fact, materialistic doctor that I was–this realization that the world about me had somehow stirred into life; oddly, I say, because Nature to me had always been merely a more or less definite arrangement of measurement, weight, and colour, and this new presentation of it was utterly foreign to my temperament. A valley to me was always a valley; a hill, merely a hill; a field, so many acres of flat surface, grass or ploughed, drained well or drained ill; whereas now, with startling vividness, came the strange, haunting idea that after all they could be something more than valley, hill, and field; that what I had hitherto perceived by these names were only the veils of something that lay concealed within, something alive. Ina word, that the poetic sense I had always rather sneered at, in others, or explained away with some shallow physiological label, had apparently suddenly opened up in myself without any obvious cause.
And, the more I puzzled over it, the more I began to realize that its genesis dated from those few minutes of reverie lying under the gorse-bush (reverie, a thing I had never before in all my life indulged in!), or, now that I came to reflect more accurately, from my brief interview with that wildeyed, swift-moving, shadowy man of whom I had first inquired the way.
I recalled my singular fancy that veils were lifting off the surface of the hills and fields, and a tremour of excitement accompanied the memory. Such a thing had never before been possible to my practical intelligence, and it made me feel suspicious about myself. I stood still a moment–I looked about me into the gathering mist, above me to the vanishing stars, below me to the hidden valley, and then sent an urgent summons to my individuality, as I had always known it, to arrest and chase these undesirable fancies.
But I called in vain. No answer came. Anxiously, hurriedly, confusedly, too, I searched for my normal self, but could not find it; and this failure to respond induced in me a sense of uneasiness that touched very nearly upon the borders of alarm.
I pushed on faster and faster along the turfy track among the gorse-bushes with a dread that I might lose the way altogether, and a sudden desire to reach home as soon as might be. Then, without warning, I emerged unexpectedly into clear air again, and the vapour swept past me in a rushing wall and rose into the sky. Anew I saw the lights of the village behind me in the depths, here and there a line of smoke rising against the pale yellow sky, and stars overhead peering down through thin wispy clouds that stretched their wind-signs across the night.
After all, it had been nothing but a stray bit of sea-fog driving up from the coast, for the other side of the hills, I remembered, dipped their chalk cliffs straight into the sea, and strange lost winds must often come a-wandering this way with the sharp changes of temperature about sunset. None the less, it was disconcerting to know that mist and storm lay hiding within possible reach, and I walked on smartly for a sight of Tom Bassett's cottage and the lights of the Manor House in the valley a short mile beyond.
The clearing of the air, however, lasted but a very brief while, and vapour was soon rising about me as before, hiding the path and making bushes and stone walls look like running shadows. It came, driven apparently, by little independent winds up the many side gullies, and it was very cold, touching my skin like a wet sheet. Curious great shapes, too, it assumed as the wind worked to and fro through it: forms of men and animals; grotesque, giant outlines; ever shifting and running along the ground with silent feet, or leaping into the air with sharp cries as the gusts twisted them inwardly and lent them voice. More and more I pushed my pace, and more and more darkness and vapour obliterated the landscape. The going was not otherwise difficult, and here and there cowslips glimmered in, patches of dancing yellow, while the springy turf made it easy to keep up speed; yet in the gloom I frequently tripped and plunged into prickly gorse near the ground, so that from shin to knee was soon a-tingle with sharp pain. Odd puffs and spits of rain stung my face, and the periods of utter stillness were always followed by little shouting gusts of wind, each time from a new direction. Troubled is perhaps too strong a word, but flustered I certainly was; and though I recognized that it was due to my being in an environment so remote from the town life I was accustomed to, I found it impossible to stifle altogether the feeling of malaise that had crept into my heart, and I looked about with increasing eagerness for the lighted windows of Bassett's cottage.
More and more, little pin-pricks of distress and confusion accumulated, adding to my realization of being away from streets and shop-windows, and things I could classify and deal with. The mist, too, distorted as well as concealed, played tricks with sounds as well as with sights. And, once or twice, when I stumbled upon some crouching sheep, they got up without the customary alarm and hurry of sheep, and moved off slowly into the darkness, but in such a singular way that I could almost have sworn they were not sheep at all, but human beings crawling on all-fours, looking back and grimacing at me over their shoulders as they went. On these occasions–for there were more than one–I never could get close enough to feel their woolly wet backs, as I should have liked to do; and the sound of their tinkling bells came faintly through the mist, sometimes from one direction, sometimes from another, sometimes all round me as though a whole flock surrounded me; and I found it impossible to analyze or explain the idea I received that they were not sheep-bells at all, but something quite different.
But mist and darkness, and a certain confusion of the senses caused by the excitement of an utterly strange environment, can account for a great deal. I pushed on quickly. The conviction that I had strayed from the route grew, nevertheless, for occasionally there was a great commotion of seagulls about me, as though I had disturbed them in their sleeping places. The air filled with their plaintive cries, and I heard the rushing of multitudinous wings, sometimes very close to my head, but always invisible owing to the mist. And once, above the swishing of the wet wind through the gorse-bushes, I was sure I caught the faint thunder of the sea and the distant crashing of waves rolling up some steep-throated gully in the cliffs. I went cautiously after this, and altered my course a little away from the direction of the sound.
Yet, increasingly all the time, it came to me how the cries of the sea-birds sounded like laughter, and how the everlasting wind blew and drove about me with a purpose, and how the low bushes persistently took the shape of stooping people, moving stealthily past me, and how the mist more and more resembled huge protean figures escorting me across the desolate hills, silently, with immense footsteps. For the inanimate world now touched my awakened poetic sense in a manner hitherto unguessed, and became fraught with the pregnant messages of a dimly concealed life. I readily understood, for the first time, how easily a superstitious peasantry might people their world, and how even an educated mind might favour an atmosphere of legend. I stumbled along, looking anxiously for the lights of the cottage.
Suddenly, as a shape of writhing mistwhirled past, I received so direct a stroke of wind that it was palpably a blow in the face. Something swept by with a shrill cry into the darkness. It was impossible to prevent jumping to one side and raising an arm by way of protection, and I was only just quick enough to catch a glimpse of the sea-gull as it raced past, with suddenly altered flight, beating its powerful wings over my head. Its white body looked enormous as the mist swallowed it. At the same moment a gust tore my hat from my head and flung the flap of my coat across my eyes. But I was well-trained by this time, and made a quick dash after the retreating black object, only to find on overtaking it that I held a prickly branch of gorse. The wind combed my hair viciously. Then, out of a corner of my eye, I saw my hat still rolling, and grabbed swiftly at it; but just as I closed on it, the real hat passed in front of me, turning over in the wind like a ball, and I instantly released my first capture to chase it. Before it was within reach, another one shot between my feet so that I stepped on it. The grass seemed covered with moving hats, yet each one, when I seized it, turned into a piece of wood, or a tiny gorse-bush, or a black rabbit hole, till my hands were scored with prickles and running blood. In the darkness, I reflected, all objects looked alike, as though by general conspiracy. I straightened up and took a long breath, mopping the blood with my handkerchief. Then something tapped at my feet, and on looking down, there was the hat within easy reach, and I stooped down and put it on my head again. Of course, there were a dozen ways of explaining my confusion and stupidity, and I walked along wondering which to select. My eyesight, for one thing–and under such conditions why seek further? It was nothing, after all, and the dizziness was a momentary effect caused by the effort and stooping.
But for all that, I shouted aloud, on the chance that a wandering shepherd might hear me; and of course no answer came, for it was like calling in a padded room, and the mist suffocated my voice and killed its resonance.
It was really very discouraging: I was cold and wet and hungry; my legs and clothes torn by the gorse, myhands scratched and bleeding; the wind brought water to my eyes by its constant buffetings, and my skin was numb from contact with the chill mist. Fortunately I had matches, and after some difficulty, by crouching under a wall, I caught a swift glimpse of my watch, and saw that it was but little after eight o'clock. Supper I knew was at nine, and I was surely over half-way by this time. But here again was another instance of the way everything seemed in a conspiracy against me to appear otherwise than ordinary, for in the gleam of the match my watch-glass showed as the face of a little old gray man, uncommonly like the folklorist himself, peering up at me with an expression of whimsical laughter. My own reflection it could not possibly have been, for I am clean-shaven, and this face looked up at me through a running tangle of gray hair. Yet a second and third match revealed only the white surface with the thin black hands moving across it.
And it was at this point, I well remember, that I reached what was for me the true heart of the adventure, the little fragment of real experience I learned from it and took back with me to my doctor's life in London, and that has remained with me ever since, and helped me to a new sympathetic insight into the intricacies of certain curious mental cases I had never before really understood.
For it was sufficiently obvious by now that a curious change had been going forward in me for some time, dating, so far as I could focus my thoughts sufficiently to analyze, from the moment of my speech with that hurrying man of shadow on the hillside. And the first deliberate manifestation of the change, now that I looked back, was surely the awakening in my prosaic being of the "poetic thrill"; my sudden amazing appreciation of the world around me as something alive. From that moment the change in me had worked ahead subtly, swiftly. Yet, so natural had been the beginning of it, that although it was a radically new departure for my temperament, I was hardly aware at first of what had actually come about; and it was only now, after so many encounters, that I was forced at length to acknowledge it.
It came the more forcibly too, because my very commonplace ideas of beauty had hitherto always been associated with sunshine and crude effects; yet here this new revelation leaped to me out of wind and mist and desolation on a lonely hillside, out of night, darkness, and discomfort. New values rushed upon me from all sides. Everything had changed, and the very simplicity with which the new values presented themselves proved to me how profound the change, the readjustment, had been. In such trivial things the evidence had come that I was not aware of it until repetition forced my attention: the veils rising from valley and hill; the mountain tops as personalities that shout or murmur in the darkness; the crying of the sea birds and of the living, purposeful wind; above all, the feeling that Nature about me was instinct with a life differing from my own in degree rather than in kind; everything, from the conspiracy of the gorsebushes to the disappearing hat, showed that a fundamental attitude of mind in me had changed and changed, too, without my knowledge or consent.
Moreover, at the same time the deep sadness of beauty had entered my heart like a stroke; for all this mystery and loveliness, I realized poignantly was utterly independent and careless of me, as me; and that while I must pass, decay, grow old, these manifestations would remain for ever young and unalterably potent. And thus gradually had I become permeated with the recognition of a region hitherto unknown to me, and that I had always depreciated in others and especially, it now occurred to me, in my friend the old folklorist.
Here surely, I thought, was the beginning of conditions which, carried a little further, must become pathogenic. That the change was real and pregnant I had no doubt whatever. My consciousness was expanding and I had caught it in the very act. I had of course read much concerning the changes of personality, swift, kaleidoscopic-had come across something of it in my practice and had listened to the folklorist holding forth like a man inspired upon ways and means of reaching concealed regions of the human consciousness, and opening it to the knowledge of things called magical, so that one became free of a larger universe. But it was only now for the first time, on these bare hills, in touch with the wind and the rain, that I realized in how simple a fashion the frontiers of consciousness could shift this way and that, or with what touch of genuine awe the certainty might come that one stood on the borderland of new, untried, perhaps dangerous, experiences.
At any rate, it did now come to me that my consciousness had shifted its frontiers very considerably, and that whatever might happen must seem not abnormal, but quite simple and inevitable, and of course utterly true. This very simplicity, however, doing no violence to my being, brought with it none the less a sense of dread and discomfort; and my dim awareness that unknown possibilities were about me in the night puzzled and distressed me perhaps more than I cared to admit.
All this that takes so long to describe became apparent to me in a few seconds. What I had always despised ascended the throne.
But with the finding of Bassett's cottage, as a sign-post close to home, my former sangfroid, my stupidity, would doubtless return, and my relief was therefore considerable when at length a faint gleam of light appeared through the mist, against which the square dark shadow of the chimney-line pointed upwards. After all, I had not strayed so very far out of the way. Now I could definitely ascertain where I was wrong.
Quickening my pace, I scrambled over a broken stone wall, and almost ran across the open bit of grass to the door. One moment the black outline of the cottage was there in front of me, and the next, when I stood actually against it–there was nothing! I laughed to think how utterly I had been deceived. Yet not utterly, for as I groped back again over the wall, the cottage loomed up a little to the left, with its windows lighted and friendly, and I had only been mistaken in my angle of approach after all. Yet again, as I hurried to the door, the mist drove past and thickened a second time–and the cottage was not where I had seen it!
My confusion increased a lot after that. I scrambled about in all directions, rather foolishly hurried, and over countless stone walls it seemed, and completely dazed as to the true points of the compass. Then suddenly, just when a kind of despair came over me, the cottage stood there solidly before my eyes, and I found myself not two feet from the door. Was ever mist before so deceptive? And there, just behind it, I made out the row of pines like a dark wave breaking through the night. I sniffed the wet resinous odour with joy, and a genuine thrill ran through me as I saw the unmistakable yellow light of the windows. At last I was near home and my troubles would soon be over.
A cloud of birds rose with shrill cries off the roof and whirled into the darkness when I knocked with my stick on the door, and human voices, I was almost certain, mingled somewhere with them, though it was impossible to tell whether they were within the cottage or outside. It all sounded confusedly with a rush of air like a little whirlwind, and I stood there rather alarmed at the clamour of my knocking. By way, too, of further proof that my imagination had awakened, the significance of that knocking at the door set something vibrating within me that most surely had never vibrated before, so that I suddenly realized with what atmosphere of mystical suggestion is the mere act of knocking surrounded––knocking at a door–both for him who knocks, wondering what shall be revealed on opening, and for him who stands within, waiting for the summons of the knocker. I only know that I hesitated a lot before making up my mind to knock a second time.
And, anyhow, what happened subsequently came in a sort of haze. Words and memory both failed me when I try to record it truthfully, so that even the faces are difficult to visualize again, the words almost impossible to hear.
Before I knew it the door was open and before I could frame the words of my first brief question, I was within the threshold, and the door was shut behind me.
I had expected the little dark and narrow hall-way of a cottage, oppressive of air and odour, but instead I came straight into a room that was full of light and full of–people. And the air tasted like the air about a mountain-top.
To the end I never saw what produced the light, nor understood how so many men and women found space to move comfortably to and fro, and pass each other as they did, within the confines of those four walls. An uncomfortable sense of having intruded upon some private gathering was, I think, my first emotion; though how the poverty-stricken country-side could have produced such an assemblage puzzled me beyond belief. And my second emotion–if there was any division at all in the wave of wonder that fairly drenched me–was feeling a sort of glory in the presence of such an atmosphere of splendid and vital youth. Everything vibrated, quivered, shook about me, and I almost felt myself as an aged and decrepit man by comparison.
I know my heart gave a great fiery leap as I saw them, for the faces that met me were fine, vigorous, and comely, while burning everywhere through their ripe maturity shone the ardours of youth and a kind of deathless enthusiasm. Old, yet eternally young they were, as rivers and mountains count their years by thousands, yet remain ever youthful; and the first effect of all those pairs of eyes lifted to meet my own was to send a whirlwind of unknown thrills about my heart and make me catch my breath with mingled terror and delight. A fear of death, and at the same time a sensation of touching something vast and eternal that could never die, surged through me.
A deep hush followed my entrance as all turned to look at me. They stood, men and women, grouped about a table, and something about them–not their size alone–conveyed the impression of being gigantic, giving me strangely novel realizations of freedom, power, and immense existence more or less than human.
I can only record my thoughts and impressions as they came to me and as I dimly now remember them. I had expected to see old Tom Bassett crouching half asleep over a peat fire, a dim lamp on the table beside him, and instead this assembly of tall and splendid men and women stood there to greet me, and stood in silence. It was little wonder that at first the ready question died upon my lips, and I almost forgot the words of my own language.
"I thought this was Tom Bassett's cottage!" I managed to ask at length, and looked straight at the man nearest me across the table. He had wild hair falling about his shoulders and a face of clear beauty. His eyes, too, like all the rest, seemed shrouded by something veil-like that reminded me of the shadowy man of whom I had first inquired the way. They were shaded–and for some reason I was glad they were.
At the sound of my voice, unreal and thin, there was a general movement throughout the room, as though everyone changed places, passing each other like those shapes of fluid sort I had seen outside in the mist. But no answer came. It seemed to me that the mist even penetrated into the room about me and spread inwardly over my thoughts.
"Is this the way to the Manor House?" I asked again, louder, fighting my inward confusion and weakness. "Can no one tell me?"
Then, apparently everyone began to answer at once, or rather, not to answer directly, but to speak to each other in such a way that I could easily overhear. The voices of the men were deep, and of the women wonderfully musical, with a slow rhythm like that of the sea, or of the wind through the pine-trees outside. But the unsatisfactory nature of what they said only helped to increase my sense of confusion and dismay.
"Yes," said one; "Tom Bassett was here for a while with the sheep, but his home was not here."
"He asks the way to a house when he does not even know the way to his own mind!" another voice said, sounding overhead it seemed.
"And could he recognize the signs if we told him?" came in the singing tones of a woman's voice close behind me.
And then, with a noise more like running water, or wind in the wings of birds, than anything else I could liken it to, came several voices together:
"And what sort of way does he seek? The splendid way, or merely the easy?"
"Or the short way of fools!"
"But he must have some credentials, or he never could have got as far as this," came from another.
A laugh ran round the room at this, though what there was to laugh at I could not imagine. It sounded like wind rushing about the hills. I got the impression too that the roof was somehow open to the sky, for their laughter had such a spacious quality in it, and the air was so cool and fresh, and moving about in currents and waves.
"It was I who showed him the way," cried a voice belonging to someone who was looking straight into my face over the table. "It was the safest way for him once he had got so far–"
I looked up and met his eye, and the sentence remained unfinished. It was the hurrying, shadowy man of the hillside. He had the same shifting outline as the others now, and the same veiled and shaded eyes, and as I looked the sense of terror stirred and grew in me. I had come in to ask for help, but now I was only anxious to be free of them all and out again in the rain and darkness on the moor. Thoughts of escape filled my brain, and I searched quickly for the door through which I had entered. But nowhere could I discover it again. The walls were bare; not even the windows were visible. And the room seemed to fill and empty of these figures as the waves of the sea fill and empty a cavern, crowding one upon another, yet never occupying more space, or less. So the coming and going of these men and women always evaded me.
And my terror became simply a terror that the veils of their eyes might lift, and that they would look at me with their clear, naked sight. I became horribly aware of their eyes. It was not that I felt them evil, but that I feared the new depths in me their merciless and terrible insight would stir into life. My consciousness had expanded quite enough for one night! I must escape at all costs and claim my own self again, however limited. I must have sanity, even if with limitations, but sanity at any price.
But meanwhile, though I tried hard to find my voice again, there came nothing but a thin piping sound that was like reeds whistling where winds meet about a comer. My throat was contracted, and I could only produce the smallest and most ridiculous of noises. The power of movement, too, was far less than when I first came in, and every moment it became more difficult to use my muscles, so that I stood there, stiff and awkward, face to face with this assemblage of shifting, wonderful people.
"And now," continued the voice of the man who had last spoken, "and now the safest way for him will be through the other door, where he shall see that which he may more easily understand."
With a great effort I regained the power of movement, while at the same time a burst of anger and a determination to be done with it all and to overcome my dreadful confusion drove me forward. He saw me coming, of course, and the others indeed opened up and made a way for me, shifting to one side or the other whenever I came too near them, and never allowing me to touch them. But at last, when I was close in front of the man, ready both to speak and act, he was no longer there. I never saw the actual change–but instead of a man it was a woman! And when I turned with amazement, I saw that the other occupants walking like figures in some ancient ceremony, were moving slowly toward the far end of the room. One by one, as they filed past, they raised their calm, passionless faces to mine, immensely vital, proud, austere, and then, without further word or gesture, they opened the door I had lost and disappeared through it one by one into the darkness of the night beyond. And as they went it seemed that the mist swallowed them up and a gust of wind caught them away, and the light also went with them, leaving me alone with the figure who had last spoken.
Moreover it was just here that a most disquieting thought flashed through my brain with unreasoning conviction, shaking my personality, as it were, to the foundations: viz., that I had hitherto been spending my life in the pursuit of false knowledge, in the mere classifying and labeling of effects, the analysis of results, scientific so called; whereas it was the folk-lorist, and such like, who with their dreams and prayers were all the time on the path of real knowledge, the trail of causes; that the one was merely adding to the mechanical comfort and safety of the body, ultimately degrading the highest part of man, and never advancing the type, while the other–but then I had never yet believed in a soul–and now was no time to begin, terror or no terror. Clearly, my thoughts were wandering.
It was at this moment the sound of the purring first reached me–deep, guttural purring–that made me think at once of some large concealed animal. It was precisely what I had heard many a time at the Zoological Gardens, and I had visions of cows chewing the cud, or horses munching hay in a stall outside the cottage. It was certainly an animal sound, and one of pleasure and contentment.
Semi-darkness filled the room. Only a very faint moonlight, struggling through the mist, came through the window, and I moved back instinctively toward the support of the wall against my back. Somewhere, through openings, came the sound of the night driving over the roof, and far above I had visions of those everlasting winds streaming by with clouds as large as continents on their wings. Something in me wanted to sing and shout, but something else in me at the same time was in a very vivid state of unreasoning terror. I felt immense, yet tiny; confident, yet timid; a part of huge, universal forces, yet an utterly small, personal, and very limited being.
In the corner of the room on my right stood the woman. Her face was hid by a mass of tumbling hair, that made me think of living grasses on a field in June. Thus her head was partially turned from me, and the moonlight, catching her outline, just revealed it against the wall like an impressionist picture. Strange hidden memories stirred in the depths of me, and for a moment I felt that I knew all about her. I stared about me quickly, nervously, trying to take in everything at once. Then the purring sound grew much louder and closer, and I forgot my notion that this woman was no stranger to me and that I knew her as well as I knew myself. That purring thing was in the room close beside me. Between us two, indeed, it was, for I now saw that her arm nearest to me was raised, and that she was pointing to the wall in front of us.
Following the direction of her hand, I saw that the wall was transparent, and that I could see through a portion of it into a small square space beyond, as though I was looking through gauze instead of bricks. This small inner space was lighted, and on stooping down I saw that it was a sort of cupboard or cell-like cage let into the wall. The thing that purred was there in the centre of it.
I looked closer. It was a being, apparently a human being, crouched down in its narrow cage, feeding. I saw the body stooping over a quantity of coarse-looking, piled-up substance that was evidently food. It was like a man huddled up. There it squatted, happy and contented, with the minimum of air, light, and space, dully satisfied with its prisoned cage behind the bars, utterly unconscious of the vast world about it, grunting with pleasure, purring like a great cat, scornfully ignorant of what might lie beyond. The cell, moreover, I saw was a perfect masterpiece of mechanical contrivance and inventive ingenuity–the very last word in comfort, safety and scientific skill. I was in the act of trying to fit in my memory some of the details of its construction and arrangement, when I made a chance noise, and at once became too agitated to note carefully what I saw. For at the noise the creature turned, and I saw that it was a human being–a man. I was aware of a face close against my own as it pressed forward, but a face with embryonic features impossible to describe and utterly loathsome, with eyes, ears, nose, and skin, only just sufficiently alive and developed to transfer the minimum of gross sensation to the brain. The mouth, however, was large and thicklipped, and the jaws were still moving in the act of slow mastication.
I shrank back, shuddering with mingled pity and disgust, and at the same moment the woman beside me called me softly by my own name. She had moved forward a little so that she stood quite close to me, full in the thin stream of moonlight that fell across the floor, and I was conscious of a swift transition from hell to heaven as my gaze passed from that embryonic visage to a countenance so refined, so majestic, so divinely sensitive in its strength, that it was like turning from the face of a devil to look upon the features of a goddess.
At the same instant I was aware that both beings–the creature and the woman–were moving rapidly toward me.
A pain like a sharp sword dived deep down into me and twisted horribly through my heart, for as I saw them coming I realized in one swift moment of terrible intuition that they had their life in me, that they were born of my own being, and were indeed projections of myself. They were portions of my consciousness projected outwardly into objectivity, and their degree of reality was just as great as that of any other part of me.
With a dreadful swiftness they rushed toward me, and in a single second had merged themselves into my own being; and I understood in some marvelous manner beyond the possibility of doubt that they were symbolic of my own soul: the dull animal part of me that had hitherto acknowledged nothing beyond its cage of minute sensations, and the higher part, almost out of reach, and in touch with the stars, that for the first time had feebly awakened into life during my journey over the hill.
I forget altogether how it was that I escaped, whether by the window or the door. I only know I found myself a moment later making great speed over the moor, followed by screaming birds and shouting winds, straight on the track downhill toward the Manor House. Something must have guided me, for I went with the instinct of an animal, having no uncertainties as to turnings, and saw the welcome lights of windows before I had covered another mile. And all the way I felt as though a great sluice gate had been opened to let a flood of new perceptions rush like a sea over my inner being, so that I was half ashamed and half delighted, partly angry, yet partly happy.
Servants met me at the door, several of them, and I was aware at once of an atmosphere of commotion in the house. I arrived breathless and hatless, wet to the skin, my hands scratched and my boots caked with mud.
"We made sure you were lost, sir," I heard the old butler say, and I heard my own reply, faintly, like the voice of someone else:
"I thought so too."
A minute later I found myself in the study, with the old folklorist standing opposite. Inhis hands he held the book I had brought down for him in my bag, ready addressed. There was a curious smile on his face.
"It never occurred to me that you would dare to walk–tonight of all nights," he was saying.
I stared without a word. I was bursting with the desire to tell him something of what had happened and try to be patient with his explanations, but when I sought for words and sentences my story seemed suddenly flat and pointless, and the details of my adventure began to evaporate and melt away, and seemed hard to remember.
"I had an exciting walk," I stammered, still a little breathless from running. "The weather was all right when I started from the station."
"The weather is all right still," he said, "though you may have found some evening mist on the top of the hills. But it's not that I meant."
"What then?"
"I meant," he said, still laughing quizzically, "that you were a very brave man to walk tonight over the enchanted hills, because this is May Day eve, and on May Day eve, you know, They have power over the minds of men, and can put glamour upon the imagination–"
"Who-–'they?' What do you mean?"
He put my book down on the table beside him and looked quietly for a moment into my eyes, and as he did so the memory of my adventure began to revive in detail, and I thought quickly of the shadowy man who had shown me the way first. What could it have been in the face of the old folklorist that made me think of this man? A dozen things ran like flashes through my excited mind, and while I attempted to seize them I heard the old man's voice continue. He seemed to be talking to himself as much as to me.
"The elemental beings you have always scoffed at, of course; they who operate ceaselessly behind the screen of appearances, and who fashion and mould the moods of the mind. And an extremist like you–for extremes are always dangerously weak–is their legitimate prey."
"Pshaw!" I interrupted him, knowing that my manner betrayed me hopelessly, and that he had guessed much. "Any man may have subjective experiences, I suppose–"
Then I broke off suddenly. The change in his face made me start; it had taken on for the moment so exactly the look of the man on the hillside. The eyes gazing so steadily into mine had shadows in them, I thought.
"Glamour!"he was saying, "all glamour! One of them must have come very close to you, or perhaps touched you." Then he asked sharply, "Did you meet anyone? Did you,speak with anyone?"
"I came by Tom Bassett's cottage," I said. "I didn't feel quite sure of my way and I went in and asked."
"All glamour," he repeated to himself, and then aloud to me, "and as for Bassett's cottage, it was burnt down three years ago, and nothing stands there now but broken, roofless walls–"
He stopped because I had seized him by the arm. In the shadows of the lamp-lit room behind him I thought I caught sight of dim forms moving past the bookshelves. But when my eye tried to focus them they faded and slipped away again into ceiling and walls. The details of the hill-top cottage, however, started into life again at the sight, and I seized my friend's arm to tell him. But instantly, when I tried, it all faded away again as though it had been a dream, and I could recall nothing intelligible to repeat to him.
He looked at me and laughed.
"They always obliterate the memory afterward," he said gently, "so that little remains beyond a mood, or an emotion, to show how profoundly deep their touch has been. Though sometimes part of the change remains and becomes permanent–as I hope in your case it may."
Then, before I had time to answer, to swear, or to remonstrate, he stepped briskly past me and closed the door into the hall, and then drew me aside farther into the room. The change that I could not understand was still working in his face and eyes.
"If you have courage enough left to come with me," he said, speaking very seriously, "we will go out again and see more. Up till midnight, you know, there is still the opportunity, and with me perhaps you won't feel so—so–"
It was impossible somehow to refuse; everything combined to make me go. We had a little food and then went out into the hall, and he clapped a wide-awake on his gray hairs. I took a cloak and seized a walking-stick from the stand. I really hardly knew what I was doing. The new world I had awakened to seemed still a-quiver about me.
As we passed out on to the gravel drive the light from the hall windows fell upon his face, and I saw that the change I had been so long observing was nearing its completeness, for there breathed about him that keen, wonderful atmosphere of eternal youth I had felt upon the inmates of the cottage.
He seemed to have gone back forty years; a veil was gathering over his eyes; and I could have sworn that somehow his stature had increased, and that he moved beside me with a vigour and power I had never seen in him before.
And as we began to climb the hilltogether insilence I saw that the stars were clear overhead and there was no mist, that the trees stood motionless without wind, and that beyond us on the summit of the hills there were lights dancing to and fro, appearing and disappearing like the inflection of stars in water.
1907Algernon Blackwoodold horror
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Here are some snazzy birthday facts about 12th of July 1935 that no one tells you about. Don't wait a minute longer and jump in using the content links below. Average read time of 10 minutes. Enjoy!
What day was my birthday Jul 12, 1935?
July 12, 1935 was a Friday and it was the 193rd day of the year 1935. It was the 28th Friday of that year. The next time you can reuse your old 1935 calendar will be in 2019. Both calendars will be exactly the same! This is assuming you are not interested in the dates for Easter and other irregular holidays that are based on a lunisolar calendar.
What day is July 12 this year?
There are 81 days left before your next birthday. You will be 84 years old when that day comes. There have been 30,600 days from the day you were born up to today. If you've been sleeping 8 hours daily since birth, then you have slept a total of 10,200 days or 27.93 years. You spent 33% of your life sleeping. Since night and day always follow each other, there were precisely 1,037 full moons after you were born up to this day. How many of them did you see? The next full moon that you can see will be on May 18 at 21:13:00 GMT – Saturday.
Fun stat: Your first one billion seconds (1,000,000,000) happened sometime on March 20, 1967.
If a dog named Mochara - a Bernese Mountain Dog breed, was born on the same date as you then it will be 428 dog years old today. A dog's first human year is equal to 15 dog years. Dogs age differently depending on breed and size. When you reach the age of 6 Mochara will be 45 dog years old. From that point forward a large-sized dog like Mochara will age 5-6 dog years for every human year.
View the complete list of July 12 celebrity birthdays.
Who are the famous July 12 birthdays?
Here's a short list of famous people in history who were born on Jul 12.
View the complete list of July 12 famous birthdays.
What happened on my birthday – Jul 12th?
Hartmann Schedel's Nuremberg Chronicle, one of the best-documented early printed books, is published.
The Ostrog Bible, one of the early printed Bibles in a Slavic language, is published.
Sixteen German imperial states leave the Holy Roman Empire and form the Confederation of the Rhine.
The Medal of Honor is authorized by the United States Congress.
The Bisbee Deportation occurs as vigilantes kidnap and deport nearly 1,300 striking miners and others from Bisbee, Arizona.
World War II: Battle of Prokhorovka: German and Soviet forces engage in one of the largest tank engagements of all time.
Pauline Reade, who was 16 years old, disappears on her way to a dance at the British Railways Club in Gorton, England, the first victim in the Moors murders.
The Newark riots begin in Newark, New Jersey.
A fire consumes the wooden home of Norwegian composer Geirr Tveitt and irretrievably destroys about 90 percent of his output.
View the complete list of July 12 historical events.
What does my birthday July 12, 1935 mean?
Your birthday numbers 7, 12, and 1935 reveal that your Life Path number is 1. It represents initiative, potential and singularity. You are a born leader. You insist on your right to make up your own mind; you demand freedom of thought and action.
The following celebrities also have the same life path number: Brian Dennehy, Peter Noone, Sam Anderson, Hung Sin-nui, Andre Kinney, Judith Malina, Sean Connery, Trish Goff, Kylie Bax, Lavanya Tripathi.
What is the birthday horoscope for Jul 12, 1935?
The Western zodiac or sun sign of a person born on July 12 is Cancer ♋ (The Crab) – a cardinal sign with Water as Western element. The ruling planet is Moon – the celestial body of moods and emotions. According to the ancient art of Chinese astrology (or Eastern zodiac), Pig is the mythical animal and Wood is the Eastern element of a person born on July 12, 1935.
What is the birthstone for July 12?
Ruby is the modern birthstone for the month of July while Ruby is the mystical birth stone (based on Tibetan origin). The zodiac gemstone for Cancer is emerald. Lastly, the birthday stone for the day of the week 'Friday' is emerald.
Fun fact: The birth flower for 12th July 1935 is Larkspur for haughtiness.
What is the Love Match for Jul 12, 1935?
When it comes to love and relationship, you are most compatible with a person born on November 4, 1918. You have a Love Match compatibility score of +157. Imagine being in love with your soul mate. On the negative side, you are most incompatible with a person born on January 9, 1957. Your incompatibility score is -165. You'll be like a cat and a dog on a love-hate relationship. Arf-arf, I want to bite you. Meow-meow, stay away from me!
What is a good birthday trivia for July 12?
I do not know how you feel about this, but you were a male ♂ in your last earthly incarnation. You were born somewhere around the territory of Ontario approximately on 1550. Your profession was chemist, alchemist, poison manufacturer.
What is the popular baby name on 12 Jul 1935?
What's your bizarre Florida Man story? The #FloridaManChallenge is breaking the Internet and social media. Some crazy men, women, or creatures from the Sunshine State are making headlines every day of the year including your birthday. Try this fun exercise. Pick your search engine of choice and type in "florida man July 12" and see what kind of wild news headline you will get. This viral craze started in 2013 and gets resurrected now and then. The latest was from Tumblr and found its way to Twitter. As they say, the rest is history.
Here's a quick list of all the fun birthday facts about July 12, 1935. Celebrities, famous birthdays, historical events, and past life were excluded.
Try another birth date of someone you know or try the birthday of these celebrities: November 25, 1932 – Takayo Fischer, American actress and singer; June 10, 1990 – Valeen Montenegro, Filipino actress and singer; August 8, 1903 – Dayton Lummis, American actor (d. 1988).


Over these 12 months, we received $16,542.96 in individual contributions! Thank you Emporia!
We use your donations as vital matching funds to match our grant from the Department of Housing and Urban Development.
In addition to monetary donations, Plumb Place is grateful to receive an abundance of clothing, hygiene items, cosmetics, furniture, books, miscellaneous household goods, bedding, and food! Our in-house food pantry is almost entirely stocked by donations! These non monetary donations, as well as volunteer hours, serve as in-kind match for another of Plumb Place's funding sources, the Emergency Solutions Grant. Plumb Place has not always tracked non-monetary donations, but started in late 2017.
Though the donations received each month varies, a snapshot of a given month can be seen in May 2018. During this month, Plumb Place received $5,146.00 of non-monetary donations.
Interested in learning more about how Plumb Place is funded or how to donate? Please call 620-342-1613 or Contact Us.