How are you all? It's been forever and ever since my last update!
I got a JOB! At WalMart! ...So gyaru, right? Walmart. Well, it's a job <3 SO far I have made about 78USD! Yay! I work again tonight... I work the register, though I haven't had any up front training... yet. I am doing that tonight, shadowing and stuff. On the upside, my dress code is khakis and navy blue (Which, might I just say, look nice together). I actually bought my first set of work clothes from the GoodWill next to the loft my cousin and I are house sitting. The sweater is huge and comfy... the pants are a little tight though. I am probably going over to The Salvation Army to buy a pair of new ones.
Also, I am excited to be making this money. My cousin bought the Crystal White PS3 recently (Not sure if mentioned previously) and she also bought Sly Cooper: Theives in Time. We also got a year and 3 months of PlayStation Plus. It's awesome.
Valentine's Day happened last week. Though I hate the holiday with a freaking passion. I always tend to be sick on it. >__> My body is telling me to get a lover... but I spent it with my cousin and our PS3. Till our guy friends came over, with chocolate.
Excuse the awful skin, eyebrows, and face in general. I hate being sick. And I didn't get to shower that morning (though I took one the night before) so I put a small bouffant where my bangs normally are, and attached an extension to my ponytail. The orange shirt is my guy friend's (we bought it for him for a casual Yosuke Hanamura cosplay... like for Pajamas)... I kinda wish it didn't fit him xD I like the color on it.
I went to an anime con the weekend before V-Day. Kawa Kon 2013, which landed with Mardi Gras... so there were a bunch of drunken idiots around the hotel. I wish I would've gotten a picture of my rave outfit. It is a purple and black Lip Service dress with a zipper down the front.
Right here! I can't believe I found it on the first try on Google! I paired it with ripped fishnet and a pair of Ed Hardy shoes, so I could dance easier (and my zipper boots don't fit TT__TT)! My makeup was punk/goth, I had a huge thing of hair, and a raver mask. I looked really good! I will dress up in it and snap a few pictures at a later point in time. It is far, far too cold right now for a photoshoot in raver clothing.
I am currently looking at hairdryers (I need one since I no longer live at home with my parents) and other misc things that I actually don't own. I also will be going through my clothes and closet in the near future and trying to sell some stuff on eBay. I want a little extra money to buy more clothes (since I need to revolved my seasonal outfits anyway).
I also am in the middle of switching my style from general Gyaru-kei to Agejo and Rokku. I have looked at some cute stuff that I found adorbs and put them together on P.net (paint.net: it's not quite photoshop, but it's 100x better than paint).
I have fallen for the look of these tights and shoes. The nails are fab as well. However, I fell immediately for the contacts and wigs. I am working on looking up Co-Ords for this style, which is similar to Ero-Kawa. But I love it so, so much! It is more MA*RS looking, but there are some d.i.a. elements as well.
I was playing with my PuriKura app (SBYCamera - HERE) It has a bunch of super cute stamps and rollers! The text is cute,too! This app is awesome!
Oops, bad quailty! Oh well. My guy friend bought the really cool brainwave controlled ears! The Necomimi ears! They are soooo cute! Too bad he didn't buy them in black... maybe I will just buy the black covers (the ears are interchangeable) and borrow them from him when I cosplay Ritsuka from Loveless! :D And I just realized, I post this on Facebook and he probably just read that... oh well.
Our -small- Persona 4 cosplays. Left to right: Our Yukiko Amagi, Yosuke Hanamura, Myself as Rise Kujikawa, and Em is Naoto Shirogane... oh and that's Ryotaro Dojima on the floor.
This is my work clothes. Aren't they boring. I am actually wearing a new headband (one of those spikey ones that all those 'creepy cute' bloggers wear... I actually think Sarah Mari has one, too...) I got mine for 1.98USD HERE. Free shipping!
It was 4.99 with free shipping. Again, on eBay: HERE.
It matches the stockings I bought recently as well. They are more punk/scene because I got them at a place called 'Cheap Trx' down on S. Grand in the city.
I believe that is about it for now.
This is Candle (Sick and Tired) by The White Tie Affair. This is one of my favorite songs by them.


A visit to South Africa's most profitable mine when it started in 1897 You descend 250 metres down a mine to see the workings of a gold mine, followed by a gold pour (if you can pick it up you can take it home) Under 5 years not allowed. See historical mine houses and shops in the theme park. All staff in the park wear costumes of the 1880s, and the replica buildings of Johannesburg are designed of the same era. This tour can be extended to a full day with a visit to the amusement park for the children, casino for the adults.


During the File Server benchmark, we can see very similar performance to that of our Email Server results, only now there is a bit smaller gap in performance between both the Samsung and Toshiba SSDs. Under this mixed workload the Toshiba still takes the lead and Micron's M510DC is nowhere near the performance of these two comparison drives. Latency reaches just above 1ms and IOPS reach nearly 28K at QD32.
Though by a close margin, the Samsung SM863's superior pure read performance gives it a win in the Web Server benchmark. Overall, the HK4E still gave it a run for its money in the higher QDs and passed over 30K IOPS and just over 1ms at QD32.


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What's happening in North Okaloosa County
Here is a list of events in our area. Some may have been canceled due to coronavirus concerns.
GUN GIVEAWAY: There is still time to enter the Main Street Crestview Association 2021 Gun Giveaway. The first drawing was Jan. 6.To enter, purchase a 2021 Downtown Crestview Calendar for up to 52 chances at an amazing selection of guns. Visit https://www.downtowncrestview.org/gungiveaway2021. The drawings end Jan. 29, not in December as previously stated.
HOLT WATER WORKS, INC.: 6 p.m. third Mondays, water office, 4618 Johnson St., Holt.
BAKER BLOCK MUSEUM: 3rd Saturday is its monthly event day. Museum open 10 a.m. to 3:30 p.m., 1307 Georgia Ave., Baker.
CRESTVIEW CITY COUNCIL: 6 p.m. second and fourth Mondays, City Hall, 198 N. Wilson St., Crestview.
CRESTVIEW HOUSING AUTHORITY BOARD: The board meets every other month at 5 p.m. at 371 Hickory Ave. W, Crestview. Open to the public.
MILLIGAN WATER SYSTEM BOARD: 6 p.m. second Tuesdays, 5340 U.S. Highway 4.
SHOAL RIVER REPUBLICAN CLUB: 6 p.m. second Tuesdays at Samuel's Roadhouse, 114 John King Road, Crestview.Socializing is followed by business at 6:30 p.m. For more information, email Republicans@usa.com.
HOLT FIRE DISTRICT COMMISSION: 6:30 p.m. second Tuesdays, 483 U.S. Highway 90 W, Holt.
BLACKMAN FIRE DISTRICT BOARD: 7 p.m. second Tuesdays at 1850 U.S. Highway 2, Baker.
BAKER FIRE DISTRICT COMMISSION: 7 p.m. second Tuesdays in the Baker Area Public Safety Building, 1375 19th St.
TROY UNIVERSITY OFFICE HOURS: 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. second Wednesdays, Crestview Area Chamber of Commerce, 1447 Commerce Drive, Crestview. Get information about furthering your education, and TU bachelor and master degree programs.
LIVE OAK SOCCER: The Upwards Sports Soccer program by Live Oak Baptist Church is postponed for a later date.
REP. JAYER WILLIAMSON OFFICE HOURS: 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. first and third Thursdays, Okaloosa County Extension office, 3098 Airport Road, Crestview. Call 995-3698 for an appointment.
LAUREL HILL CITY COUNCIL: 6 p.m. first Thursdays, City Hall, 8209 Highway 85 N, Laurel Hill.
DORCAS FIRE DISTRICT COMMISSIONERS: DFDC now meets 7 p.m. first Thursdays, 5232 Deer Springs Drive, Crestview, off Highway 90.
ALMARANTE VOLUNTEER FIRE DISTRICT COMMISSIONERS: 7 p.m. second Thursdays, Almarante Fire Station, 3710 Old California Road, Laurel Hill.
HOLT FIRE DISTRICT MEETINGS: 6 p.m. second and fourth Thursdays, fire station, 483 U.S. Highway 90 W, Holt.
NORTH OKALOOSA HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION INC.: 6 p.m. third Thursday, Baker Block Museum, 1307 Georgia Ave., Baker.
NORTH OKALOOSA FIRE DISTRICT: 5 p.m. third Thursdays, fire station 82, 5549 John Givens Road, Crestview.
LAUREL HILL VOLUNTEER FIRE DEPARTMENT: 7 p.m., second Fridays, in Laurel Hill City Hall's fire department office.
UNIVERSITY OF WEST FLORIDA: Office hours at the Crestview Area Chamber of Commerce, 1447 Commerce Drive, by appointment. Registration begins in April for summer and fall terms. UWF offers bachelor's, master's and doctoral programs in Fort Walton Beach, Pensacola and online. Call 863-6550 for questions or an appointment.
CRESTVIEW AREA CHAMBER OF COMMERCE EVENTS: for chamber members and their employees. Details: 682-3212 or info@crestviewchamber.com. www.crestviewchamber.com.
BREAKFAST SPONSORS: for 2021 sought. Contact Shannon at 682-3212.
HERITAGE MUSEUM ACTIVITIES: The Heritage Museum of Northwest Florida is located at 115 Westview Ave. in Valparaiso.Visit https://heritage-museum.org/ or call 850-678-2615.
BOBBIN LACE & TATTERS GROUP: 1 p.m. first Saturdays at the museum.
© 2021 www.crestviewbulletin.com. All rights reserved.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Adelina Engman leaves Chelsea to join Montpellier
By Sarah Rendell
CBAD8A00-D2B9-4E0E-ADDF-D0366C357A34 Created with sketchtool. @rendellx
Chelsea forward Adelina Engman has left after after two years to join French club Montpellier HSC.
Engman signed for Chelsea in 2018 from Swedish club Kopparbergs/Goteborg. She has played 25 times for the Blues and scored six goals.
She suffered a thigh injury against West Ham in the Women's Super League early on this season which resulted in less game time.
Chelsea manager Emma Hayes said: "I know Adelina hasn't had the best couple of years, due to injury, but she's made telling contributions when they mattered.
"She's been a great team-mate off the pitch, a pleasure to coach, and I look forward to seeing her career progress at her new club."
USWomen's SportFA Women's Super LeagueAdelina EngmanEmma HayesChelsea FC WomenMontpellier


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Dirty Golf Ball
(idea) by Venkman Wed Aug 27 2008 at 20:23:19
This piece of oral tradition was handed down to me by a girl I met in high school. Janice moved to my neck of the woods from Maine, and I believe that I was the very first real friend she made. She passed away shortly after high school and I've missed her very much ever since. In my mind, this joke has always been her living memory.
The dirty golf ball is quite possibly the most disappointing joke ever. Every friend I have who has heard me tell this joke groans at the mere mention of it. Much like Fuck you, Clown, the punchline packs more punch with the joke-teller than with the audience, because in the end, the joke's on them. They've endured the entire joke for zero payoff. So be warned, it's long, and there's no payoff. If you read the whole thing and feel cheated, that's WONDERFUL, because that's the whole point. If you wish to add this joke to your arsenal, it's very structured and easy to remember, but it's best told with careful attention to the minutiae, so you should take care that every detail is expounded upon as much as possible. I've shortened my usual oral version quite a bit, but you can be as creative as you like in ad-libbing this joke. And don't forget to have fun torturing your fellow man in Janice's memory.
Once upon a time...
there was a boy who was running late for school. He was hurrying down the sidewalk when he bumped into an old lady. He asked her what time it was and, after giving him a vitriolic stare, she screamed at the top of her lungs, "DIRTY GOLF BALL!" A little taken aback, the boy simply shook his head as if to say, "Whatever." then continued on toward school.
When he got to class, the teacher asked him why he was late. So he retold the story. "I was on my way to school this morning, and I didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball." The teacher looked at him with disgust and disdain. She said, "I'll not have that kind of language in MY classroom. You go straight to the guidance counselor and talk about what you've done."
A little perplexed, the boy gets out of his seat and heads to the guidance counselor's office down the hall. He gets there and has to wait about ten minutes to be seen, but eventually finds himself in a chair by the counselor's desk. The counselor says, "And to whom do I owe this pleasure?" So the boy recounts his story.
"Well, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got all kinds of mad and told me to come straight to your office."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" the counselor exclaimed, "I won't tolerate that kind of language in my office. You need discipline. March yourself straight to the Vice Principal's office and let him straighten you out!"
Not knowing what to make of this kind of reaction, the boy got up quickly and darted down the hall to the VP's office. As he walked inside, he noticed that VP was alone, and pounding away at his computer. As the boy sat, the vice principal swung around in his chair and shouted, "And what may I do for YOU today?"
The boy, a little lost for words, began. "I...um...I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got insanely angry and told me to go to the guidance counselor's office. I recounted the story once again for him, and he almost exploded before sending me directly here."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" shouted the vice principal, "Why I've never in all my career...just...get out of my sight. Go wait in the principal's office. He'll have to figure out a suitable punishment."
The boy, although becoming accustomed to the weird treatment, still didn't understand the reaction he was getting to that phrase. He got up and ambled into the principal's office. Upon finding it empty, he sat and awaited yet another round of questioning.
Before long, the principal strolled in and sat down behind his desk. He had sort of a kind look about him, as if to say that things were all going to be ok. "Son, I'm sure there's just been some sort of misunderstanding. They told me you'd already been through all the other disciplinary channels here, but you look like a good boy. Why don't you just tell me what's been going on.
A little relieved, the boy spoke. "Sir, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she lost her temper and told me to go to see the guidance counselor. I recounted the story again for him, and he almost lost his cool, sending me to see the vice principal. He heard me out and listened to my story, but then he started shouting too. He told me to come in your office and wait for my punishment."
The principal didn't look quite as shocked as all the rest. He seemed to be pondering it quietly for a few moments. Just then the door flew open and the superintendent of the county school system strode into the room. "What's this I hear about a discipline problem? Is this the boy? Boy, what exactly do you have to say for yourself?"
The boy looked to the principal as if begging for intervention, and then began again. "Well sir, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and recounted the episode to the teacher, she went berserk and told me to go to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story once again for him, and he almost got intensely angry before sending me to the vice principal. The vice principal was beside himself in anger and told me to go to the principal's office to await my punishment. I just finished recounting the events to the principal as you came through the door."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" screamed the superintendent. "Boy, I don't tolerate that kind of language in my school system. Come with me, we're having a school board meeting after lunch. We'll let them decide an appropriate punishment."
Once again the boy, extraordinarily confused, did as he was told. He followed the superintendent to his car and rode with him to the county offices. Neither said a word the entire way there. Once they arrived, the boy was escorted down a long hallway and through some big double doors, into what appeared to be an ancient board room. There were old stodgy looking people all around the giant table that nearly filled the room.
The superintendent motioned for the boy to stand in front of a lectern near the head of the table. "Son, recount for all of these nice people the events you recounted for me back at the school."
The boy was extremely nervous. He realized he was starting to sweat. He cleared his throat and then began, "Well... I... I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got insanely angry and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I recounted the story once again for him, and he didn't want to deal with it so he sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got very mad. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I retold the story to the principal, the superintendent walked in to the office and asked me what my situation was all about. And he got very upset with me, then drove me directly here, I guess so you folks can decide my punishment."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" shrieked one of the board members, "We will NOT tolerate that kind of blatant abuse of language in our school system. I motion that we should permanently expel the boy. All in favor?" Every voice in the room rose in a resounding "Aye". "You are henceforth expelled. You should probably go straight home and tell your parents.
By now completely frustrated, the boy left the room in a whirl. No sooner than he'd hit the door he was running down the street at full speed, toward a home where only trouble could await him.
When he walked into the kitchen, his mother was there baking a pie. She seemed genuinely startled to see him, and a little concerned. "What are you doing home so early sweetie? Is something wrong?"
He blurted it out all at once, tears beginning to rise in his eyes. "Mom, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I recounted the story again for him, and he didn't want to deal with it so he sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got angry. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I retold the story to the principal, the superintendent walked in to the office and asked me what my situation was all about. And he got very upset with me, then drove me to the county offices to a school board meeting. They all heard my story and voted to expel me from school permanently. I just left there and came straight here to see what I should do."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" his mother cried, "Get your butt upstairs and wait for your father to come home. I can't deal with this. You'll have to answer to him!"
Extremely disappointed in his mother's answer, he moped up the the stairs and slammed the door to his room. He sat and waited for what seemed like forever, but was actually closer to 4 hours.
He'd been lost deep in thought when he heard his door creak open. His father stood in the doorway a moment, then asked if he could come in. "What's the matter son? Your mother seemed very upset. She couldn't even find the words to tell me what was wrong."
"Dad, I really don't want to talk about it again. I'm afraid you'll just get angry with me, just like everyone else has."
"No, boy. Come out with it. I'm sure it will all be ok."
"Well, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he didn't want to deal with it so he sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got very upset with me. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, the superintendent walked in to the office and asked me what my situation was all about. And he got pissed at me, then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened but they expelled me from school permanently. I came straight home and told Mom about it, but she sent me to my room to wait for you to get home. I've been waiting here, imagining what kind of punishment you have in store for me."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" screamed his father, "You won't go around under my roof defiling my home with that filth! GET OUT! Get your things and get out NOW!"
The boy was shocked. He was speechless. His father stormed down the stairs, muttering in contempt the entire way.
Dismayed, the boy emptied his backpack of all school books (he wouldn't need them anymore), and started gathering a few essentials. Before half an hour had passed he was walking through the kitchen and out the back door, not taking even a moment to acknowledge his father on the way out. He started down the street toward downtown.
As he came into town, it began to get dark. The streetlamps had started to glow their ominous orange glow, and every dark alley seemed to be building its arsenal. As he reached 7th street, a vagrant leapt out of the alley and accosted him.
"What are you doing boy? Shouldn't you be at home with your mommy? HAHAHA!" The man was quite drunk. "You should be...what're ya doin out here anyhows?
"Well, if you must know, I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he didn't want to deal with it so he sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got very upset with me. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, the superintendent walked in to the office and asked me what my situation was all about. I told it all again and he got bent out of shape, then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened but they expelled me from school permanently. I went straight home and told my mom about it, but she sent me to my room to wait for Dad to get home. I waited there, for what seemed like an eternity. When Dad finally got home, I told him my story and he exploded. He kicked me out of the house. Now I'm just trying to find somewhere to sleep tonight."
As the boy was finishing his much repeated speech, a police officer had strolled up. The officer was giving the vagrant a suspicious look, sensing the alcohol. When the bum saw the officer he spoke. "Officer sir... you gotta arrest that boy. He's up to no good. Uh. Yeah, no good.
The officer asked the boy, "Son, is this man bothering you? He seems to have been drinking."
"No it's ok sir," said the boy, "I was just telling him about my day. And trying to find a place to stay for the night."
"What's wrong, son? Why don't you go home to your parents?"
"Well I can't exactly. It all started this morning. I was on my way to school this morning and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he didn't want to deal with it so he sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got very upset with me. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, the superintendent walked in to the office and asked me what my situation was all about. I told it all again and he got bent out of shape, then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened but they expelled me from school permanently. I went straight home and told my mom about it, but she sent me to my room to wait for Dad to get home. I waited there, for what seemed like an eternity. When Dad finally got home, I told him my story and he exploded. He kicked me out of the house. I was just trying to find somewhere to sleep tonight when this guy," he points to the vagrant, "surprised me out of nowhere. I was telling him what had happened as you came upon us."
"Dirty Golf Ball!" exclaimed the officer, "Son, you can't just walk around saying filthy things like that, not on public streets! I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
It was in handcuffs that the boy entered the precinct, shuffling his feet, downcast eyes glancing around nervously, dreading whatever was about to come. The officer led him into the holding area, and after fiddling with his keys, locked the boy in the drunk tank. After a few moments had passed, the officer returned accompanied by another man in uniform.
"Son," the officer said, "this is the Chief of Police. I want you to tell him exactly what you told me. He may be able to straighten this whole thing out."
The chief looked him up and down in a kindly way and then spoke, "Son, I don't exactly know what you're doing here. Officer Burris wouldn't have brought you in for just any old thing. But he won't tell me what you did. Says he doesn't want to repeat it. Now if you'll just tell me what's going on, I'm sure we can work all this out for you. You seem like a nice boy."
"Well sir, it's just that every time I've repeated my story for anyone today, it's only gotten me in more trouble. I don't want to be in anymore trouble. I just want a place to sleep tonight. I can't go home, because when I told my Dad the story, he blew his lid and kicked me out of the house."
"Son, it can't be that bad. But I'm in the dark. Tell me your story and I'll see what we can do to put things back on the right track for you."
"Well sir, it all started this morning. I was on my way to school and didn't want to be late, so I stopped this old lady and asked her what time it was. She called me a Dirty Golf Ball. When I got to class and told the teacher that, she got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he lost his temper and sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got very upset with me. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, who didn't take it quite as badly as all the rest, the superintendent strode into the office and asked me what the discipline problem around here was. I told the superintendent my story and he lost his composure, then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened, and they voted unanimously to expel me from school permanently. I went straight home and told my mom about it, but she sent me to my room to wait for Dad to get home. I waited there, for what seemed like forever. When Dad finally got home, I told him my story and he went into a rage. He kicked me out of the house. I was just trying to find somewhere to sleep tonight when this vagrant burst out of an alley and startled me. He teased me about being on the street and I was telling him what had happened, how Dad had kicked me out. About that time, Officer Burris came upon us. He was worried that the bum was bothering me, but I told him my story as well. And he brought me here in handcuffs. And now I've told you. It's your turn to get angry—"
But the chief hadn't heard that last little bit, as he exclaimed, "Dirty Golf Ball! Boy, we can't have that kind of language. It's little boys like you that are what's wrong with society today. You'd better get comfortable in that cell, because unless I'm very much mistaken, you're going to be spending a lot of time in a cell. You're going to sleep the night in the tank, and bright and early tomorrow, you're going to see the judge."
As the chief stormed off, Officer Burris chasing him down the corridor, the boy settled down into the bunk. He couldn't stop the torrential onslaught of thoughts and worries that were plaguing him. This was an absolute nightmare. He lay there for most of the night lamenting his luck, praying for sleep and dreams to come and take all this away, but they never did. He stood up and looked around with bloodshot eyes when he heard the chief storm into the cell block.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" shouted the chief. "Are you ready to explain yourself to the judge?"
The boy didn't answer. He stared at the floor, and when the cell opened, blindly followed the chief. Up two flights of stairs and down a carpeted hall way, through some double doors that reminded him of the awful county office board room, they entered the courtroom. The chief directed the boy into the box on the stand. The judge was already in his place. He stared down at the boy with steely eyes like an eagle, condemning the boy before he'd ever said a word.
"Order in the court!" shouted the judge, "ORDER! Son, recount for me the events of yesterday. In the utmost detail if you please."
The boy tried to speak, choking on his dry, nervous throat. "Ahem...Um, sorry Your Honor.
"OUT WITH IT!" shrieked the judge.
"Um, yes, yes sir. I was on my way to school yesterday and didn't want to be late, but I didn't know what time it was. So I stopped this old lady I met on the sidewalk and asked her the time. She gave me a venomous glare then screamed at the top of her lungs "Dirty Golf Ball". I didn't know what to make of that, or even what she meant. I continued on to school, in a hurry because I wasn't sure if I would be on time. When I got to class, I was indeed late and told the teacher what had happened, with the old lady and all, and the teacher got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he lost his temper and sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and then got even angrier than the other two. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, who didn't take it quite as badly as all the rest, the superintendent strode into the office and asked me what the discipline problem around here was. I looked to the principal to do or say something, but he remained silent. So I told the superintendent my story and he lost his composure, muttering about discipline in his school system; he then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened, and they voted unanimously to expel me from school permanently. I rushed out of there and darted straight home. Mom was surprised to see me home so early, but in tears I told her about it; but she got upset and sent me to my room to wait for Dad to get home. I waited there, for what seemed like forever. When Dad finally got home, he came to me and asked me what was wrong. I didn't want to tell the story over again, for fear of the repercussions. But he badgered it out of me. I told him my story and he exploded. He kicked me out of the house. I packed everything I could fit in my book sack and headed into town. I was just trying to find somewhere to sleep tonight when a vagrant burst out of an alley and startled me. He teased me about being on the street and I was telling him what had happened, how Dad had kicked me out. About that time a law enforcement officer came upon us. He was worried that the bum was bothering me, but I reassured him I was just looking for somewhere to go. I told him my story as well. That was a bad idea, as he took me to the precinct and put me in the drunk tank. He brought the chief and insisted that I retell it again. I did, and the chief told me that I had better get used to sleeping in a cell. I spent the night in jail last night, awaiting counsel with you."
"DIRTY GOLF BALL! What an OUTRAGE! Of all the filthy, foul, miserable... damned right, you'd better get used to sleeping in a cell! I hereby sentence you to ten years, hard labor." The judge banged the gavel on the bench so hard it snapped in two.
Ten years, how slowly they passed.
Here stood a man, hardened by years of abuse, heartache, and labor. He was no longer the carefree boy of those times past. But his time was up, and he would finally be free of the burden that he had borne for oh so many years.
He marched up the dirt path through the prison yard, chain link fence on either side, and beyond it men he'd come to know as friends. They all wished him farewell and he nodded to each in acknowledgment. As he came to the huge iron gate, the prison guard who was escorting him spoke up.
"Son, you've been here for ten hard years. I like to think after all the time I've known you, that we've become friends of a sort. You were just a boy when you came here, and a kind boy at that. I ne'er seen not even a speck of cruelty or malice in you. I've never asked you, but as I may not see you again, I'd really like to know. What in the ever lovin' hell did you do to get thrown in this joint in the first place?"
"Well, I was on my way to school one morning and I didn't want to be late, but I didn't know what time it was. So I stopped this old lady I met on the sidewalk and asked her the time. She gave me a real strange look, then screamed at the top of her lungs "Dirty Golf Ball". I didn't know what to make of that, but I went on to school, in a hurry because I wasn't sure if I would be on time. When I got to class, turns out I was late after all, and told the teacher what had happened, with the old lady and all. The teacher got mad and told me to go straight to the guidance counselor's office. I retold the story again for him, and he lost his temper and sent me to the vice principal's office. The vice principal listened to my story and got pissed. He told me the principal would have to handle my punishment. After I told my story to the principal, I felt a little bit relieved. He didn't take it quite as badly as all the others, but then the superintendent strode into the office. He wanted to know why I was there, I guess wanting to handle my discipline himself. I looked to the principal to do or say something, but he remained silent. So I told the superintendent my story and went off the deep end, muttering about discipline in his school system; he then drove me to the county office and put me in front of the school board to recount it again. I told them all what happened, and they voted unanimously to expel me from school permanently. I left there and went straight home, hoping my parents could straighten all this out. Mom was surprised to see me home so early, but in tears I told her about it; but believe it or not, she got angry too and sent me to my room to wait for Dad to get home. I waited there, for hours and when Dad finally got home, he came to me and asked me what was wrong. I didn't want to tell the story over again, because I just knew he'd get mad too. But he badgered it out of me. I told him my story and he exploded. He kicked me out of the house. I packed everything I could fit in my book satchel and headed into town. I was just trying to find somewhere to sleep when a vagrant burst out of an alley and startled me. He teased me about being on the street and I was telling him what had happened, how Dad had kicked me out. About that time a cop wandered onto the scene. He was worried that the bum was bothering me, but I reassured him I was just looking for somewhere to go. I told him my story as well. That was really the worst move I made, the icing on the cake you know? Next thing I knew, he took me to the precinct and put me in the drunk tank. He brought in the police chief and insisted that I retell my story to him. I did, and the chief told me that I had better get used to sleeping in a cell. The next morning, I went before a judge and told him the whole tale. He confirmed I would indeed be sleeping in a cell. He gave me ten years, hard labor."
"DIRTY GOLF BALL!!!", exclaimed the guard. "Oh god, just go. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. Why the hell would you even tell me that? Just get the hell out of here." The guard pushed him out the door and onto the street, and the huge iron door slammed behind him.
For the first time in ten years, he was free. Free to do as he wished, to indulge in any pleasure that he pleased. And the one thing he'd missed the most being in prison was Coca-Cola. He figured now that he was out, the first thing he really wanted was an ice cold Coke. He walked down the sidewalk about three blocks when he noticed a vending machine across the street, emblazoned with the dynamic ribbon. But more importantly what really caught his eye was the person bent over collecting a can of Coke from the machine. One thought pervaded his mind.
It was the old lady, the one who had ruined his life. She was older and more wicked looking than even he had remembered her. This was it. This was his chance to take his revenge on her once and for all, and perhaps to bring light to the mysterious meaning of those taboo words.
He ran out into the street, making a beeline for her. He was plowed over by a city bus and it instantly turned him into a mushy soup of blood and organs. The old lady, whirled around to see, then with a knowing look in her eye, smirked. She disappeared into the crowd that was beginning to amass.
What's the moral of the story?
Look both ways before you cross the street!
*Rimshot* Wah-Wah wah waaaahhh.
Didn't I warn you? Didn't I say it would suck?
Hey... what are you... Aww, c'mon.
Don't downvote because it sucked!
I told you it was gonna suck! D'Oh!
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Get dressed NOW or you're going in your underwear. Systematic downvoting I just don't know when to quit. Have fun torturing your fellow man
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I fell off the ferris wheel and now I am paralyzed and bitter
Ruining your illusions of me. Or cementing them.
assassin bug


text:
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Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 3
3. The Samurai of Jackson Street
When he first arrived in San Francisco, Tommy Flood had shared a closet-size room with five Chinese men named Wong, all of whom had wanted to marry him.
"It's horrible-like being packed into a take-out box of Kung Pao chicken," Tommy had said, and although it wasn't like that at all, and Tommy was just trying to use colorful language which he felt was his duty as a writer, it was very crowded and smelled strongly of garlic and sweaty Chinese guys.
"I think they want to pack my fudge," Tommy had said. "I'm from Indiana, we don't go for that kind of stuff."
As it turned out, the Chinese guys didn't go for that kind of stuff either, but were, in fact, very much interested in getting green cards.
Fortunately, only a week later, in the parking lot of the Marina Safeway where he worked nights, Tommy met a gorgeous redhead named Jody Stroud, who rescued him from his confinement with the Chinese guys, by giving him her love, a nice loft apartment, and immortality. Unfortunately, little more than a month after that, their minion, Abby, had them bronzed while they slept, and Tommy awoke one night to find that despite his great vampire strength, he couldn't move a muscle.
"I'd rather be trapped in a take-out box of Kung Pao chicken," Tommy would have said if he could have said anything, which he couldn't.
Meanwhile, right next to him, sharing the same bronze shell, his beloved Jody drifted in a dream-state, a side effect of being able to turn herself to mist, a trick she had learned from Elijah Ben Sapir, her vampire sire. Between the dead sleep of daylight, and the floating in a dream-world, she could endure decades inside the statue. Tommy, however, had never learned how to turn to mist. There had never been time to teach him. So come sundown, his vampire senses came on like neon, and he experienced every second of his confinement with an electric intensity that nearly had him vibrating in his shell-an alpha predator pacing the cage of his mind and shredding his reason. Of course, he did the only thing he could do: he went barking at the moon mad.
He'd have to lick about a mile of kitty-butt to get the taste of meter maid out of his mouth, but Chet was up for it. He raked a couple of hind-leg kicks through the dust that was the meter maid's remains, and headed across the street and into the alley, where he curled up in the dark and set about blunting the human taste.
It was only a little over a month since the old vampire had turned Chet, but already he was losing all sense of his former self. Time was, that he spent his days on Market Street, napping next to William, the homeless man who made his living with a paper cup and a sign that said, I AM HOMELESS AND MY CAT IS HUGE. Chet was indeed very large, and while much of his volume had been fur, he had achieved a weight of thirty-five pounds on a diet of semi-used hamburgers and French fries donated by passersby outside of McDonald's.
Now Chet hunted the night, taking down nearly any warm-blooded creature he encountered: rats, birds, squirrels, cats, dogs, and even the occasional human. At first it had only been drunks and other homeless, and the first time he had drained one, his old friend William, who turned to dust in front of him, Chet yowled, ran, and hid under a Dumpster for the rest of the night and all of the next day. There was no regret, simply hunger and elation of the blood rush. It was beyond the satisfaction of the kill, it was positively sexual, something Chet had never known as a normal cat, as he'd been neutered by the animal shelter when still a kitten. But along with speed, strength, and senses far more sensitive than even a human-based vampire, Chet, like his human counterparts, found that he was physically restored to perfection. In other words, his junk was working.
He found that soon after the kill he desperately needed to hump something, and the more squirmy and wailing, the better. Above the smells of bus fumes, cooking food, and urine-bathed curbs that pervaded the City, he caught the scent of a female in heat. She might be a mile away, but given his newly heightened senses, he'd find her.
A wave of excitement undulated under the fur of his spine, fur that had mostly grown back since the humans had shaved him, mated in front of him, and drank his blood, which served to traumatize his little kitty consciousness before he was turned vampire, and motivated a whole new feeling he'd grown into as a vampire cat: vengeance. For since his metamorphosis, it wasn't just his senses that had expanded. His brain, which before had run a loop of "eat-nap-crap, repeat," was now growing into a whole new awareness, getting bigger, even as Chet grew. He was a good sixty pounds now, and roughly as smart as a dog, where before he'd only been a little brighter than a brick. Dog. The hated. There was dog on the air. Coming closer. He could smell it-them-two of them. And now he could hear them. He arose from his butt bath and screeched like an electrified lynx. In response, the neighborhood echoed with a chorus of yowls from a dozen other vampire cats.
"Steady, fellows," said the Emperor. He laid his hand across the neck of the golden retriever and scratched under the chin of the Boston terrier, who squirmed in the great pocket of the Emperor's overcoat, looking like a frantic, black-and-white, bug-eyed kangaroo mutant.
"Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat! Cat!" barked Bummer, with a spray of doggie slobber across the Emperor's palm. "Cat! Murder, pain, fire, evil, cat! Can't you smell them? Everywhere! Must chase, chase, chase, bite, bite, bite, let me go you insane, oblivious old man, I'm trying to save you, for the love of God, CAT! CAT! CAT!"
Unfortunately, Bummer only spoke dog, and while the Emperor could tell that the Boston terrier was upset, he had no idea why. (Anyone who translates dog knows that only about a third of what Bummer said actually meant anything. The rest was just noise he needed to make. Human speech is about the same.) Lazarus, the golden retriever, having battled vampires on and off for the last two months, and being steady by nature, was much calmer about the whole thing, but despite Bummer's tendency to overreact, he had to admit, the smell of cat was tall in the air, and what was more disturbing, it wasn't just cat, it was dead cat. Dead cat walking. Wait, what was that? Not cat-cats. Oh, this was not good.
"He's right about the cat," Lazarus ruffed, nudging the Emperor's leg. "We should get out of this neighborhood, maybe go over to North Beach and see if anyone dropped a beef jerky or something. I could sure use a beef jerky. Or we can stay and die. Whatever. I'm good with it."
"Easy, men," said the Emperor, alert now that something was amiss. He knelt down, his knees creaking like rusted hinges, and as he looked around, kneaded the spot between Bummer's ears as if he were readying to make doggy-brain biscuits. He was a great, woolly, thunderstorm of a man-broad shouldered and gray bearded, fine witted and fiercely loyal to the people of his city. He had lived on the streets of San Francisco as long as anyone could remember, and while tourists saw him as a raggedy, homeless wretch, the locals viewed him as a fixture, a rolling landmark, a spirit, and a conscience, and for the most part, treated him with the deference they might pay royalty, despite the fact that he was a raving loon.
The street was deserted, but a half a block away the Emperor saw the three-wheeled cart of an S.F.P.D. parking enforcement officer, stopped behind an illegally parked Audi. The cart's rotating yellow caution lights chased themselves around the surrounding buildings like drunken, jaundiced Tinkerbells, but there was no officer in sight.
"Strange. It's long past time when a meter maid should be working. Perhaps we should investigate, gents."
But before he could stand, Bummer leapt out of the Emperor's pocket and made a beeline for the cart, trumpeting himself into the charge with a staccato barking fit. Lazarus took off after the black-and-white fur-rocket, and the old man ambled along behind, as fast as his great, arthritic legs would carry him.
They found Bummer on the far side of the Audi, snorting and snuffling inside an empty police uniform, and covered with a fine gray powder. The Emperor's eyes went wide. He backed across the sidewalk and stood against the fire door of one of the industrial lofts that lined the street. He had seen this before. He knew the signs. But when he had seen the old vampire and his companions board an enormous yacht in the Bay over a month ago, he thought his city rid of the bloodsucking fiends. What now?
There was a crackling static noise from the police cart: a radio. Call it in. Alert his people to the danger. He rolled to the cart, fumbled with the door catch, and reached for the microphone.
"Hello," he said into the microphone. "This is the Emperor of San Francisco, Emperor of San Francisco, protector of Alcatraz, Sausalito, and Treasure Island, and I'd like to report a vampire." The radio continued to crackle and distant voices ghosted through the ether, uninterrupted.
Lazarus padded to the old man's side and barked furiously, "You have to push the button. You have to push the button." Unfortunately, while the noble retriever understood English, he only spoke dog, and the Emperor did not get the instruction.
"Button! Button! Button! Button!" Bummer barked, springing up and down in front of the police cart. He scurried around to the door and jumped in on the Emperor's lap to show him.
"Yeah, that helps," growled Lazarus sarcastically. Golden retrievers are not a very sarcastic breed, and he felt a little ashamed and, well, catlike, using that tone of voice. "Okay. Button! Button! Button! Uh-oh."
"Button! Button! Button! Uh-oh, what?" barked Bummer.
A short ruff from the retriever: "Cat."
Lazarus boiled out a low growl and laid his ears back against his head.
The Emperor saw two of them: cats, coming down the sidewalk toward them. But they didn't look quite natural. The light from the police cart was reflecting back from the cats' eyes like red coals.
A screech, there were two more coming across the street. Lazarus turned to face them, snarling now. A chorus of hisses from behind. The Emperor looked in the rearview mirror to see three more cats stalking from behind.
"Quick, Lazarus, in the cart. Up, boy, in the cart."
Lazarus was spinning now, trying to watch all of the cats at once, warning them off with bared teeth and bristled hair. But the cats came on, baring their own teeth.
"Come now," said the Emperor into the microphone.
Something landed hard on the roof of the cart and Bummer yelped. Another thump and the Emperor looked back to see a large cat in the bed of the cart, coming up on two legs and trying to claw around the back window. The old man pulled the door shut. "Run, Lazarus, run!"
Lazarus caught the first cat in his jaws and was shaking it furiously when the rest fell upon him.
"There's nefarious shit afoot, Foo," said Abby. "Bring portable sun and fry these nosferatu kitties before they nom everyone in the 'hood."
Steven "Foo Dog" Wong had no idea what his girlfriend, Abby, was talking about, and it wasn't the first time. In fact, much of the time he had no idea what she was talking about, but he had learned if he was patient, and listened, and more important, agreed with her, she would mercilessly sex him up, which he liked quite a bit, and occasionally he got the message. He used the same strategy with his maternal grandmother (without the sexing-up part), who spoke an obscure, country dialect of Cantonese, that sounded to the uninitiated like someone beating a chicken to death with a banjo. Just wait, and all would become clear. This time, however, Abby, whose tone ran from tragically romantic to passionately dismissive, was sounding much more urgent, and the patience gambit wasn't going to work. Her voice in his Bluetooth headset was like having a malevolent fairy bite his ear.
"I'm in the middle of something, Abby. I'll be home as soon as I finish up here."
"Now, Foo. There's a herd, or flock, or a-what do you call a bunch of kitties?"
"A box?" Foo offered.
"Fucktard!"
"A fucktard of kitties? Okay, sure, that could be it. A pride of lions, a murder of crows..."
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"No. You fucktard! There's a bunch of vampire kitties about to eat that crazy Emperor guy and his dogs right outside on the street. You need to come save them."
"A bunch?" Steve was having a hard time getting his head around the idea. He'd only recently gotten his head around the idea of one vampire cat, but a bunch, well, that was more. He was just a couple of months away from having his master's in biochem at age twenty-one-he wasn't a fucktard. "Define a bunch," he said.
"Many. I can't count them because they're stalking the golden retriever."
"And how do you know they're vampire kitties?"
"Oh, because I drew blood samples from them, ran it in that centrifuge thingy of yours, prepared some slides, and looked at the blood cell structure under a microscope, duh?"
"No, really," he said. She was flunking high school biology, there's no way she prepared blood slides. And besides-
"Of course not, you douche nozzle, I know they're vampires because they're stalking a golden retriever and a homeless fuck who's hiding in the vaporized meter maid's cart. That's not standard kitty behavior."
"Vaporized meter maid?"
"The one Chet ate-sucked her to dust. Come now, Foo, turn your sunbeam full-on and get your luscious ninja ass over here." Steve had rigged the hatchback of his tricked-out Honda Civic with high intensity UV floodlights, which he'd used to flash fry a number of vampires, thus saving Abby and, for the first time in his life, having a girlfriend and someone who thought he was cool.
"I can't come right away, Abby. The sun lights aren't in the car."
"Oh my fucking God, there's some little old guy with a cane coming out of the alley. Well, he's toast. Fuck!"
"Fuck!"
"Oh fuck!"
"What? What? What?"
"Oh-my-fucking-god-ponies-on-a-stick!"
"Abby, you need to be more specific."
"It's not a cane, Foo, it's a sword."
"Come now, Foo. Bring the sun."
"I can't, Abby. My car is full of rats."
The Emperor watched in horror as the cats leapt onto the back of his noble captain, Lazarus. The golden retriever shook himself violently, dislodging two of the fiends, but they were replaced by two more, and three more leapt on top of them, nearly bringing Lazarus to the ground. But they weren't pack hunters, and as each maneuvered for the throat, another attacker was pushed off, his claws shredding both predator and prey as he fell.
Blood splattered the windscreen of the police cart. Bummer bounced around inside the tiny cabin, barking and snorting, and throwing himself against the glass, covering everything with angry dog slobber.
"Run, Lazarus, run!" The Emperor pounded on the glass, then pushed his forehead against it as he tried to squint back tears of anguish and frustration.
"No!" He would not do it. He would not watch his companion slaughtered. Outrage filled the ancient, boiler-tank of a man and condensed to courage. He was fighting the door latch when half a cat hit the side window and slid down trailing gore.
The door handle snapped off in his hand and he threw it to the floor of the cart. Bummer immediately attacked it and broke a tooth on the metal. Through the haze of blood spray, the Emperor could see another figure in the street. A boy-no, a man, but a small man, Asian-wearing a fluorescent orange porkpie hat and socks, tight plaid trousers that looked as if they'd been teleported out of the 1960s, and a gray cardigan sweater. The little man was brandishing a samurai sword, bringing it down again and again on Lazarus in quick snapping motions, but before he could cry out, the Emperor saw that the sword wasn't even grazing the retriever's coat. With each stroke one of the cats fell away, beheaded or cut in half, both halves squirming on the pavement.
There was no spinning, no wind-up or flourish to the swordsman's movements, just grim efficiency, like a chef chopping vegetables. As his targets moved, he pivoted and stepped just enough to deliver the cut, then snapped the blade back and sent it to its next destination.
The weight and fury removed from his back, Lazarus looked around and whimpered, which translated to: "Whaaa-?"
The swordsman was relentless, step, cut, step, cut. Two cats came at him from under a Volvo and he quickly retreated and swung the sword in a quick, low arc that approximated a golf stroke and sent their heads back over the car to bounce off a metal garage door.
"Behind!" the Emperor warned.
But it was too late. The low attack had thrown the swordsman off-a heavy-bodied Siamese cat launched itself from the roof of a van across the street and landed on the little man's back. The long sword was useless at such close range. The swordsman arched in pain, even as the Siamese clawed its way up his back. He spun, then threw his feet out before him and fell hard on his back, but the Siamese took the impact and dug its fangs into the swordsman's shoulder. A half-dozen vampire cats came scurrying out from under cars toward the struggling swordsman.
Lazarus, his fur matted with blood, caught one of the cats by the haunch and bit to the bone. The cat screamed and squirmed in the retriever's jaws, trying to claw his eyes. The others fell on the swordsman with fang and claw.
The Emperor threw his shoulder against the Plexiglas door of the police cart, but there was no room to move, to gain momentum, and while the entire cart rocked and went up on two wheels under his weight, the door latch would not give. He watched in horror as the swordsman writhed under his attackers.
The Emperor heard a steel fire door hitting brick and light spilled across the sidewalk and into the street. Out of the doorway ran a thin, impossibly pale girl with lavender pigtails wearing pink motocross boots, pink fishnet stockings, a green plastic skirt, wraparound sunglasses, and a black leather jacket that looked studded with glass. Before he could warn her, the girl ran into the street and shouted, "You motherfucking kitties need to step the fuck off!"
The vampire cats attacking the swordsman looked up and hissed, which translated from vampire cat, meant: "Whaaa-?"
She ran right at the swordsman, waving her arms as if shooing birds or trying to dry some particularly stubborn nail polish and screaming like a madwoman. The cats turned their attention to her, and were crouching, readying to leap, when her jacket lit up like the sun. There was a collective screech of agony from the vampire cats as all around the street, cats and cat parts smoked, then ignited. Burning cats made for the alley across the street or tried to hide under cars, but the thin girl ran after them, darting here and there, until each ignited, then burned and reduced itself first to a bubbling puddle of fur and goo, and finally, a pile of fine ash.
In less than a minute, the street was quiet again. The lights on the girl's jacket went dark. The swordsman climbed to his feet and fitted his orange porkpie hat back on his head. He was bleeding from spots on his back and arms, and there was blood on his plaid pants and orange socks, but whether it was his or the cats' was impossible to tell. He stood before the thin girl and bowed deeply.
"Domo arigato," he said, keeping his eyes at her feet.
"Dozo," said the girl. "Your kitty-slaying skills are, if I may say so, the shit."
The swordsman bowed again, short and shallow, then turned and trotted across the street, down the alley, and out of sight.
Lazarus was digging at the Plexiglas door of the police cart with the pads of his paws, as if he might polish his way through to release his master. Abby scratched his nose, nearly the only part of him not covered in blood, and opened the door.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," said the Emperor.
He stepped out of the cart and looked around. The street was painted with blood for half a block, punctuated by piles of ash and the occasional charred flea collar. Parked cars were sprayed in red mist, even the security lights above several fire doors were speckled with gore. Acrid smoke from burning cats hung low in the air, and on the sidewalk greasy gray ash spilled out of the sleeves and collar of the parking officer's uniform.
"Well, you don't see that every day," said the Emperor, as a police cruiser rounded the corner, the red and blue lights raking the building.
The cruiser stopped and doors flew open. The driver stood behind his door, his hand on his gun.
"What's going on here?" he said, trying to keep his eyes on the Emperor and not look at the carnage that surrounded them.
"Nothing," Abby said.
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I can't recall ever being more conflicted about my feelings for a band than I have been about Ghost. Like many people, my first exposure to them was visual. I saw a photo of the band onstage back in 2014 and immediately dismissed it as a gimmick without hearing one, single note of music. I thought this is just what the world needs, another death metal act wearing masks, making noise and growling Cookie Monster vocals about the devil. I didn't give the band a second thought after that even though they were hard to ignore. Every music news website and magazine that I read kept expounding on this band that was on the verge of exploding. I continued to ignore the music until I was listening to Mark Strigl's podcast at the end of 2015. He played the song "Absolution" as one of his "best of" moments from that year. I was ready to fast forward, but figured it was now or never. I may as well see what this band had to offer. I was blown away. Not only by the music, which was good, but by how wrong I was to judge these guys based on nothing more than their appearance. By the time the song hit the dual guitar solo outro, I was hooked. I immediately purchased their 2015 release Meliora and started digging into the back catalog.
Ghost's music expertly blends hard rock, pop, and 70's style AOR sensibilities with a little bit (ok a lot) of Satanic lyrics thrown in. 2016 saw the release of the Popestar EP, and their first real flirtation with a hit song. "Square Hammer" catapulted the band further into the mainstream and received airplay on modern rock radio. An opening slot on the North American leg of Iron Maiden's Book of Souls Tour, offered mass exposure to old guard heavy metal fans. You could feel that this was a band that was building towards a moment. The moment is here, in the form of their excellent new album, Prequelle.
Tobias Forge, the mastermind behind this operation and his nameless ghouls have written and recorded a 10-song cycle ruminating on the bubonic plague, the decay of society as we know it, and a whole lot of death. With that being said, the album is a joy to listen to. They are pushing the boundaries of their blend of 70's rock and metal about as far as it can go. After the intro piece, "Ashes", the album starts with an arena shaker, the first single, "Rats", and then it's off to the races. The chugging riffs of "Faith" will keep the metal heads banging, while "See the Light" offers a change of pace preparing the listener for the journey that is the instrumental epic, "Miasma". This song is a stunner. It is the coolest song that Uriah Heep and Blue Oyster Cult, never wrote. It needs to be heard to be understood.
This album is a massive step forward for Ghost. They are taking some chances as their sound is evolving. It's refreshing to hear them stretching out. They could keep the costumes and continue rewriting the same songs for the next 10 years and easily sell out theaters around the globe. Prequelle shows that they are interested in more. I'll be happy to take the ride, wherever it may go.


text:
Q: Creating a layout where theorems are in 'margins' I wish to design a document with the following mock-up layout, where theorems are separated from the main body of the text in a sort of margin:

\documentclass[11pt,a4paper]{article}
\usepackage{xcolor}
\usepackage[calcwidth]{titlesec}
\usepackage{tikz}
\usepackage{pgfplots} \pgfplotsset{compat=1.12}
%Underlining ruler for subsections
\titleformat{\section}%
  {\normalfont\Large\bfseries}% format
  {}% label
  {0mm}% sep
  {%
    \vadjust pre{%
      \color{gray}%
      \hrule width \linewidth height 0.5pt\relax
    }%
  }% before-code

\begin{document}

\section{Example Section}

\end{document}

How do I achieve this?

A: I think what you want is paracol package.
\documentclass[11pt]{article}
\usepackage[margin=1in]{geometry}
\usepackage{paracol}
\usepackage{amsthm}
\newtheorem{thm}{Theorem}
\newtheorem{mydef}{Definition}
\usepackage{xcolor}
\usepackage[calcwidth]{titlesec}
\usepackage{tikz}
\usepackage{pgfplots}
\pgfplotsset{compat=1.12}
%Underlining ruler for subsections
\titleformat{\section}%
  {\normalfont\Large\bfseries}% format
  {}% label
  {0mm}% sep
  {%
    \vadjust pre{%
      \color{gray}%
      \hrule width \linewidth height 0.5pt\relax
    }%
  }% before-code

\begin{document}
\columnratio{0.3}
\begin{paracol}{2}[\section{Example Section}]

\begin{thm}
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
\end{thm}

\switchcolumn
Some text blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

\switchcolumn
\begin{mydef}
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
\end{mydef}

\switchcolumn
Some other text blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

\end{paracol}
\end{document}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Q: Where in this code would I add custom sizes for the application? I have created a script within Google Scripts Editor so that when a user clicks on a menu on the toolbar in Google Sheets it brings up an application box where users click to print.
However, i'm not sure how I could add custom sizes for that application box that appears without messing up the code.
function onOpen() {
  SpreadsheetApp.getUi()
      .createMenu('Click to print')
      .addItem('Print from Google Cloud', 'openDialog')
      .addToUi();
}

function openDialog() {
var html = HtmlService.createHtmlOutputFromFile('Index')
    .setSandboxMode(HtmlService.SandboxMode.NATIVE);
    SpreadsheetApp.getUi()
    .showModalDialog(html, 'Click the button below to print using the Google Cloud Print service.');
}

and the index.html code is:
<!DOCTYPE html>

    <base target="_top">

Below are image explanations of what the script does:

As you can see from the last image, that is where the problem is, the application box is too small to fit all of the information on it, therefore cutting it out.
-EDIT-
I managed to work out how to create the application box bigger, with help from a user going by Matt. However, even with the box bigger, the window size where the Google Cloud Print service is located is still small, no matter how big I make the outside application box. (See Image below for reference.)

Could anyone assist with making the inside box the full size of the outside box? Or just simply make it bigger?
Best Regards.

A: Check out https://developers.google.com/apps-script/reference/base/ui#showmodaldialoguserinterface-title
var htmlOutput = HtmlService
     .createHtmlOutput('
A change of speed, a change of style...
')
     .setWidth(250)
     .setHeight(300);
SpreadsheetApp.getUi().showModalDialog(htmlOutput, 'My add-on');


text:
5 reasons why we love Southampton's cultural attractions and green spaces
Not far from our student accommodation in Southampton, you will find plenty of places to either nourish your mind or calm your soul with art, culture and vibrant green spaces all around you.
Art and museums
Southampton culture is rich and varied. Roughly a 6-minute walk away from our Solent University accommodation, you'll find the The Southampton City Art Gallery specialises in modern British art, while the Solent Sky Museum is home to vintage aircraft including real life examples of the iconic Spitfire and flying boats.
The Tudor House and Gardens, built in the late 15th century, gives a glimpse into the lives of the city's residents throughout history and features exhibits from Victorian and Edwardian times.
The Medieval Merchant's House, built circa 1290 and restored in the late 13th century, is one of the only surviving examples of its kind.
St Michael's Church, founded in 1070, is the oldest building still in use in Southampton. It boasts a Norman tower, a font made of Tournai marble and a sculpture of St Michael by Josefina de Vasconcellos.
Near our Solent University accommodation boasts over 50 parks and green spaces. 326-acre Southampton Common features Hawthorns Urban Wildlife Centre and Star Wars themed graffiti – it's popular with University of Southampton students being close to Highfield.
Central Park is listed on the Historic England Register of Parks and Gardens of special historic interest; 440-acre Itchen Valley Country Park is a good spot for biking and hiking and you can enjoy the sights and sounds of the boats while strolling through Riverside Park. Another popular walk is along the 14th century walls from Westquay and Bargate down to the docks.
Take a break from Southampton student life and explore the surrounding area. The city is close to beautiful countryside and stunning coastline; The New Forest is just seven miles away and boasts ancient woodland, pretty villages, historic houses, grazing cattle and pigs, as well as opportunities for walking, cycling and horse-riding.
The Isle of Wight is a 25-minute ferry ride away and there you can find award-winning beaches and various outdoor activities. The Isle of Wight Festival is an annual draw for rock and pop fans and 8,000 competitors attend Cowes Week each year, the largest sailing regatta of its kind in the world.
Oxford Street is the home of independent businesses trading in traditional buildings. This is where to head for to find bars, restaurants, coffee shops and al fresco dining in an historic setting. For a pint and sport on a big screen, try The Grapes which is also popular for its Titanic links.
The London is the main feature here, offering great Sunday roasts and a lively cabaret scene by night. Oxford Street also offers buzzing cocktail bars, tapas, French, Italian and German restaurants.
Princess Alexandra Dock has been transformed into a mixed-use marina close to the city centre. Ocean Village features a modern leisure space with bars, shops, restaurants and The Harbour Lights Picture House which screens arthouse and mainstream films in a glass-fronted contemporary building.
Boat trips and sailing facilities are also available. The marina has 375 berths and can cater for tall ships and large yachts.
Discover Southampton
At Park House by Prima Vidae, the lively city centre of Southampton is at your doorstep to discover. Our feature-packed, all-inclusive studios have been designed with your wellbeing in mind delivering everything you need to succeed.
With incredible facilities such as a communal lounge with its 80″ projector screen, grab-and-go breakfast with free hot drinks, exclusive events, a secure bike storage and laundry, we can ensure you will make the best out of your university years.
Student Accommodation in Southampton
If you are looking to move to Southampton this coming year then make sure to check out our student accommodation in Southampton, Park House!
We want you to have the best university experience you can, whether this is through providing you a perfect home or giving you tips on what to do and where to go, we can do it all. Here at Collegiate, we pride ourselves to give you a welcome into a cosy and stylish home fitted with all the amenities you could ever want or need. Check out everything we can offer and book your new home today.
Not only do we ensure that you have the best home to start or continue your university life but we also want to make sure you know what a wonderful city you are in, this is why our site teams are here to help you with local tips and tricks and our blog pages are full of places to discover while you're at university in Southampton.


text:
Grayson's Grades: Eagles at 49'ers
Scott Grayson
Scott Grayson Published: October 5, 2020
The Philadelphia Eagles took over sole possession of first place in the NFC East after knocking off the San Francisco 49'ers 25-20.
Philadelphia Eagles v San Francisco 49ers
The defense forced three turnovers while Carson Wentz ran for a touchdown and passed for another in the victory. With the game hanging in the balance, Wentz found Travis Fulgham for the go-ahead score. That was followed up by a pick six from Alex Singleton to help put it away.
The Eagles finally won their first game of the season; however, it does not absolve some questionable performances and that is reflected in the latest report card.
Alex Singleton - Singleton is typically a special teams player and rarely gets time on defense. However, after TJ Edwards left the game due to injury, Singleton was thrust into action and made the biggest defensive play of the night. He picked off Nick Mullens and returned it for a touchdown to help essentially put the game away.
Defensive Line - The Defensive Line is trending in the right direction. They racked up eight sacks last week and followed that up with five more against the 49'ers. Perhaps more importantly, they got back to Mullens in a hurry causing him to unload the ball before he was ready. As a result, Josh Sweat, Hassan Ridgeway and Genard Avery all registered a sack in this game. Derek Barnett and Jevon Hargrave each got 1/2 of a sack. They also forced a large part of the 15 quarterback hits they got in this game. Avery racked up five quarterback hits all by himself.
Travis Fulgham - Fulgham is going to be a much more popular name around Philadelphia than it was just 30 minutes earlier. He caught the biggest pass of the game by Wentz. Not only did he pull it in, but had the presence of mind to keep his feet in bounds and score a touchdown. Fulgham was just added to the active roster from the practice squad on Saturday.
Rodney McLeod - I felt like I saw McLeod flying around on defense for the first time this season and asserting himself as more of a leader. He was making tackles and registered the first takeaway for the defense of the season when he picked off Nick Mullens. McLeod led the team with eight tackles.
Doug Pederson - After ripping Pederson last week for his lack of aggressive decisions, I will give him credit for going back to his old ways. The Eagles scored first and Pederson did not hesitate, he went for two. Getting that early eight point lead changed the game. Late in the fourth quarter after the 49'ers scored a touchdown to cut the deficit to five points, they had to go for two to try and cut the deficit to three. The Eagles stopped them maintaining a five point lead. Had they not gone for two earlier, the 49'ers would have been able to tie it with a field goal. Pederson's team appeared to play with more of a sense of urgency than I have noticed in the past. One criticism though deals with the way they seemed to abandon a large part of the run. Miles Sanders had some effective runs in the first half, but Pederson did not give him nearly as many touches in the second half.
Jim Schwartz - Schwartz' defense finally showed signs of life. They played with more urgency and as a flew result the field with more energy. They were able to force three turnovers including a pick six. The defense also managed to rack up five sacks. They won the turnover battle for the first time all season and as a result they picked up their first win.
Cre'Von LeBlanc - LeBlanc came up with a huge play when he managed to record a sack and strip the ball out. It was recovered by the Eagles and eventually led to a go-ahead score. LeBlac also did a decent job in coverage. However, he was involved in some missed assignments that led to George Kittle's big receiving day.
Carson Wentz - Wentz made some big plays when it counted the most; however, he also continued to do some of the things that have plagued him in some of his poor performances earlier this season. Wentz held onto the ball too long multiple times, especially with a banged up offensive line. He also made some poor decisions throwing the ball and missing some open receivers. Like last season, he was throwing to a cast of misfit toys due to a large number of injuries. Wentz' best pass of the day one to Travis Fulgham down the sideline and it went for a touchdown. Wentz did a good job of using his legs and scored the first points of the game on a rushing touchdown. Wentz completed 18 of 28 passes for 193 yards and a touchdown with one interception. He also added 37 rushing yards and a touchdown.
Offensive Line - The Eagles rolled out their fourth different offensive line in as many weeks. Jordan Mailata started at left tackle for the injured Jason Peters. Mailata was called for a costly false start penalty on a third and one that eventually forced a punt. Jason Kelce had a horrible snap over Carson Wentz' head that nearly became a turnover. Lane Johnson started the game at right tackle, but frequently exited due to a sore ankle.
Filed Under: 49ers, Alex Singleton, Carson Wentz, Derek Barnett, Doug Pederson, Eagles, Genard Avery, Hassan Ridgeway, Jason Kelce, Jason Peters, Jevon Hargrave, Jim Schwartz, Jordan Mailata, Josh Sweat, Lane Johnson, NFL, Philadelphia Eagles, Rodney McLeod, San Francisco 49ers, Travis Fulgham
Categories: Articles, Eagles, Football, NFL, Philadelphia Sports, Sports
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If Jonathan Gannon Leaves Eagles, Expect an Aggressive Play for Vic Fangio


text:
package com.eduworks.cruncher.trig;

import java.io.InputStream;
import java.util.Map;

import org.json.JSONException;
import org.json.JSONObject;

import com.eduworks.resolver.Context;
import com.eduworks.resolver.Cruncher;

public class CruncherSine extends Cruncher
{

	@Override
	public Object resolve(Context c, Map<String, String[]> parameters, Map<String, InputStream> dataStreams) throws JSONException
	{
		String sDeg = optAsString("deg","",c,parameters, dataStreams);
		String sRad = optAsString("rad","",c,parameters, dataStreams);

		if(!sDeg.isEmpty()){
			return Math.sin(Math.toRadians(Double.parseDouble(sDeg)));
		}else if(!sRad.isEmpty()){
			return Math.sin(Double.parseDouble(sRad));
		}else{
			double obj = getAsDouble("obj", c, parameters, dataStreams);
			if(obj < 2 * Math.PI && obj > -2 * Math.PI){
				return Math.sin(obj);
			}else{
				return Math.sin(Math.toRadians(obj));
			}
		}
	}

	@Override
	public String getDescription()
	{
		return "Retrieves the Sine of the angle passed in. If angle passed in via 'obj' will assume values < 2*pi are radians";
	}

	@Override
	public String getReturn()
	{
		return "Double";
	}

	@Override
	public String getAttribution()
	{
		return ATTRIB_NONE;
	}

	@Override
	public JSONObject getParameters() throws JSONException
	{
		return jo("rad","Number", "deg", "Number", "obj","Number");
	}

}

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Washington Blade Archives
Proudly Serving Southern California
August 18, 2017 at 5:44 pm PST | by Karen Ocamb
Bannon, Mattis and the fate of the trans military ban
Former White House Chief Strategist Steve Bannon at CPAC 2017, February 24th 2017. (Photo by Michael Vadon)
Former White House strategist and Presidential advisor Steve Bannon is out. White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders issued a statement Friday saying: "White House Chief of Staff John F. Kelly and Steve Bannon have mutually agreed today would be Steve's last day. We are grateful for his service and wish him the best."
Pressure from human rights organizations, including the Human Rights Campaign, had been mounting on the administration to fire populist Bannon after Trump's full-throated defense of white supremacy in the aftermath of violent protests in Charlottesville, Virginia.
"The president, who continues to sow hate and division, clearly did not fire [Steve] Bannon because of his white supremacist views and ties to the so-called 'alt-right,'" Vanita Gupta, president and CEO of The Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights said in a statement. "Unless and until the president calls out evil; disavows neo-Nazis, white nationalists, and white supremacists; fires these staffers; and abandons his administration's anti-civil rights agenda, he will continue to have no moral credibility."
What Bannon will do next is fodder for rampant speculation. Several media outlets have reported that he will return to Breitbart News or he may launch his own media outlet with backing from billionaire Robert Mercer.
Jonathan Swan from Axios reports: "A source familiar with Breitbart's operations told me they would go 'thermonuclear' against 'globalists' that Bannon and his friends believe are ruining the Trump administration, and by extension, America. Watch for Breitbart's Washington Editor Matt Boyle to be a central figure in this war — which has already begun — against White House officials like HR McMaster, Dina Powell, Gary Cohn, and Jared and Ivanka."
Others think Bannon will side-step a war on Trump and only go after the "globalists," which includes the generals: retired four-star Marine Corps general Sec. John F. Kelly, now Trump's chief of staff, who fired him and National Security Advisor Army Lt. General H.R. McMaster, who pushed Bannon off the national security council and the subject of a relentless Breitbart attack.
The tension between McMaster and Bannon got so bad at one point that Sec. of Defense James Mattis had to intervene. Mattis, a retired four star Marine general, has also not escaped Bannon's ire, albeit more subtly, as noted in a surprising interview with the liberal American Prospect magazine.
Bannon, the co-founder and co-editor Robert Kuttner wrote, was in "high spirits" during the interview, asserting that he knew better about trade and military policy in Asia than the professionals. "But what about his internal adversaries, at the departments of State and Defense, who think the United States can enlist Beijing's aid on the North Korean standoff, and at Treasury and the National Economic Council who don't want to mess with the trading system?" Kuttner asked.
"Oh, they're wetting themselves," [Bannon] said, explaining that the Section 301 complaint, which was put on hold when the war of threats with North Korea broke out, was shelved only temporarily, and will be revived in three weeks. As for other cabinet departments, Bannon has big plans to marginalize their influence."
Trump's own fate is also a subject of many questions. But the latest chaos presumably buys some time before the White House remembers the latest draft of the "Guidance" on Trump's tweeted decision to ban transgender individuals from serving in the American Armed Forces. It is not beyond imagination that the trans ban could become a pawn in a narcissistic battle between Bannon and a weakened president who needs to flex his muscles and orders "his" generals to change the policy forthwith. How might that stand against the backdrop of complaints about Trump's expressed bigotry?
Defense Sec. Mattis has made it clear that he has higher priorities than a disruptive change in military personnel policy. As he noted Thursday at a press briefing with Sec. of State Rex Tillerson and Japanese officials, "In the event of a missile launch towards the territory of Japan, Guam, United States, Korea, we would take immediate, specific actions to take it down."
Mattis and the Joint Chiefs of Staff all spoke out against the forces of racism and bigotry Trump emboldened last Tuesday by proclaiming that "both sides" were at fault for the violence.
And with their tweets, they further confirmed their support for an inclusive military.
"The Army doesn't tolerate racism, extremism, or hatred in our ranks," Army Chief of Staff Gen. Mark Milley tweeted Wednesday. "It's against our Values and everything we've stood for since 1775."
"No place for racial hatred or extremism in @USMC. Our core values of Honor, Courage, and Commitment frame the way Marines live and act," tweeted Marine Commandant Gen. Robert B. Neller.
On Monday, August 14, Mattis made a surprise appearance before reporters where he said he was "saddened" to learn the man accused of mowing down Heather Heyer and 19 others in Charlottesville had served four months in the Army before being discharged. The secretary also took numerous questions on the status of the transgender ban.
Mattis said: "On the service chiefs and the comments after Charlottesville, these are leaders of our diverse armed forces. They simply said the same message that we have lived by for decades and we continue not to serve in the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, the Marine Corps; we serve in the United States Army, United States Navy, et cetera. And in that regard, it's a widely diverse force. We look at E Pluribus Unum on our coins. Out of many, one. They were simply emphasizing on the battlefield we are one team and that's the way we stay." (Transcript here).
The day after Trump tweeted that the military "cannot be burdened with the tremendous medical costs and disruption that transgender in the military would entail," Marine Corps Gen. Joseph Dunford, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, said the current policy of open service will remain in effect until it is formally replaced. That enabled the trans servicemembers who have been serving openly for 13 months since former Obama Sec. of Defense Ash Carter announced the end of the ban, to continue serving June 2016. Full service, the accessions policy and recruitment were expected to start July 1.
There had been a frantic legislative effort to halt the progress, lead by anti-LGBT Reps. Duncan Hunter and Vicki Hartzler, which Mattis had quietly helped to head off before the Religious Right worked with Vice President Pence to get Trump to tweet the ban. Their main focus was transgender medical care and deployment ability, which former U.S. Surgeon General and retired Flag and General officers had already studied, concluding that: "With few exceptions, transgender service members are deployable and medically ready." The American Medical Association had also conducted anin-depth analysis and announced that "there is no medically valid reason" for transgender people to be denied the right to serve.
However, in June before the policy was due to take effect, Mattis ordered a six-month review. "I'd come out a short time before [the July start date], unable to answer certain questions from the uniformed leadership, and without the people in my personnel department, the civilian oversight of policy in the military, due to the — you know, the challenges we face trying to get people through the nomination and confirmation process. So I wanted the time to get them in, and to be able to answer those questions."
"Why not let that six months bring back a full review of the policy decision before the president jumps in?" a reporter asked.
The secretary replied: "You all elected — the American people elected the commander in chief. I — they didn't elect me. So the commander in chief in our country and our system of government is elected by the people. He has that authority and responsibility. So that was fully within his responsibility."
Mattis added that he needed accurate data on the total number of serving transgender personnel—a point Politifact made, how-many-people-military-are-transgender/ as well, noting the discrepancy between the Williams Institute study whih cited there were up to 15,000 trans servicemembers and the then-Pentagon-commissioned Rand Study.
Mattis went back and forth with another reporter about the numbers of trans service members from the Rand study and others—"It's up to 7,000" and the low end, "It think it was 2,400, 2,500," the reporter said.
"What does that tell you about the statistic?" asked Mattis. "I cannot find the data to support it right now. So that's why I don't want to sign up for a number that I can find no rigor behind, which is — and — but that's — it is what it is. Whatever the number is, your point is some people have come out."
And "they felt safe to do so," the reporter noted. But now there is a concern about whether they might be kicked out.
"The chairman immediately went out and said everybody just stand fast until we get the direction," Mattis said. "I understand that this is probably more about your suspicion about what could be coming, but the fact is we have received no direction that would indicate any harm to anybody right now."
But will those who are currently serving be able to finish their contracts?
"I'm going to wait, again, until I get the direction from the White House, and then we will study it and come up with what the policy should be. But I'm not willing to sign up for the numbers you just used, and I'm not willing to sign up for the concern any of them have, considering what the chairman said.
I'm not willing to pre — what would it be — prejudge what the study and — will now bring out to the policy," Mattis said.
He expects to get the president's guidance "very soon," the secretary noted. "White House staff is working it. I've got my people over there in the room to give them any military background that they might need, to inform them, but they write their own policy, of course. So we're in a supporting role right now. And I — soon we'll have the — (inaudible) — direction — (inaudible) — to answer your question."
For a story published Wednesday, Stars and Stripes asked Aaron Belkin, director of the Palm Center, http://www.palmcenter.org/who was one of the leaders of the successful effort to repeal the anti-gay and lesbian military policy known as "Don't Ask, Don't Tell," for his reaction.
"Secretary Mattis insulted the troops and violated core military values of honesty and integrity when he implied there are problems with transgender military service," Belkin told Stars and Stripes. Mattis knows, Belkin added, "that all of the research has already been done, and that there is nothing 'complex' or 'complicated' about treating everyone according to the same standards."
A Pentagon official familiar with the ongoing issue of the Defense Department Transgender Service Ban, speaking on condition of anonymity since the official is not authorized to speak on the record, told the Los Angeles Blade that Belkin's statement to the Stars and Stripes reporter "completely misconstrues and mischaracterizes" Mattis' public statements.
"Mr. Belkin seems to forget that Secretary Mattis told reporters that, 'we have received no direction that would indicate any harm to anybody right now.' He [Mattis] also has made it quite clear that the impetus for this latest round swirling around the issue came from the President himself along with certain members of the White House staff."
But trans servicemembers are anxious. "We, as a military, operate on standards. We operate on clear direction and guidance. It's how we do everything," Jennifer Peace, an Army captain, company commander and intelligence officer with a wife and three children, and more than 12 years' service including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, told Stars and Stripes. "I understand how critical it is to provide clear guidance to soldiers. Now I am worried about my family. I am worried about my future.
I'm worried about my organization because I'm not the only transgender soldier [here]" and her "battle buddies" will be impacted. "There is a lot of anxiety every day," she said. But the previous secretary of defense had studied the issue in depth and concluded, "we are qualified and capable to serve. And I think anything less is a disservice to this nation."
Riley Dosh, the first trans graduate from West Point, told The Los Angeles Blade:
"Secretary Mattis is simply doing whatever he can to ensure readiness of the military. Banning transgender service, especially after its implementation, reduces readiness – he knows this. He will follow the orders given to him, and will duly study the effect transgender service has on the military. Until then, he is quietly avoiding sudden shifts in military policy that the President and some in Congress are proposing."
The truth is—no one knows what's going to happen next, especially considering the shrewd Religious Right activism of Vice President Mike Pence.
BannonBreitbartIvankaKellyKKKKuttneMattisMcMasterMuellernaziNeo-ConPowellRussiaTrumpWhite Housewhite supremacist
Karen Ocamb
Phill Wilson calls Pete Buttigieg 'impressive' after black gay fundraiser by Karen Ocamb | posted on January 14, 2020
Los Angeles LGBT Center opens new huge Center South in Leimert Park by Rance Collins | posted on January 13, 2020
Fate of WeHo Log Cabin is at a confusing stalemate by Rance Collins | posted on January 14, 2020
Wiener's Intersex human rights bill killed in 1st Senate committee by Karen Ocamb | posted on January 17, 2020
Pride Media names veteran female LGBTQ editor Diane Anderson-Minshall as CEO by Brody Levesque | posted on January 15, 2020
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New study on TB vaccine for newborns of HIV-positive mothers
UCT's South African Tuberculosis Vaccine Initiative (SATVI) and Stellenbosch's Desmond Tutu TB Centre have begun recruiting infants for a study to test a new TB vaccine, MVA85A, for newborns of HIV-positive moms. The MVA85A vaccine, developed by Oxford University, has already been successfully tested for safety in healthy adults, children, and in HIV positive adults. This will be the first new TB vaccine to be tested specifically for newborn babies of HIV-positive mothers.
The current TB vaccine, BCG, protects children against the most severe forms of TB like meningitis, but not against lung TB, which is the most common form of the disease. Lung TB in adults is mainly responsible for the spread of TB infection to other people. The World Health Organisation (WHO) estimates that South Africa, where BCG is given routinely at birth, has the highest rate of new TB cases in the world. Moreover, although BCG has been used for more than 90 years and has proved safe for almost all children, BCG vaccination can lead to complications in HIV-infected babies.
TB vaccine researchers have been searching for a better TB vaccine that is more effective than BCG, but that is also safe for all newborn babies, including those with HIV.
"If this MVA85A vaccine study is successful, it will benefit in particular those babies at risk of HIV infection, who are also at high risk of getting TB," said UCT's Associate Professor Mark Hatherill, who is leading the study.
The researchers plan to enrol 340 newborn infants of HIV positive moms at antenatal clinics in Worcester and Cape Town. Half of the babies will be given the MVA85A vaccine at birth, and the other half an inactive placebo. Babies who test negative for HIV will also be given BCG two months later. All babies in the study will be monitored closely over a period of one year, to test whether the MVA85A vaccine is safe, and whether it improves immune responses to TB.
This study is the first step towards testing whether MVA85A vaccination of newborns can help protect children against TB later in life.
"Participation of the community in our studies is essential, and we are grateful for the ongoing support of the Boland community for TB vaccine studies over the last 12 years," said Hatherill.
The Wellcome Trust, the Medical Research Council in the UK and the UK's Department of International Development (DFID) are the main funders of this SATVI---led study, which is a collaboration between UCT, Stellenbosch University, the University of Oxford, and the Oxford--Emergent Tuberculosis Consortium (OETC), a joint venture between Emergent BioSolutions and Oxford University, where the MVA85A vaccine was originally developed. It is anticipated that the results of this study will be available in 2015.
Ongoing clinical trials of MVA85A vaccine are also being supported by the European Developing Countries Clinical Trials Partnership, the UK MRC, Wellcome Trust, the OETC, and non-profit organisations Aeras.
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