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Guardians of Liberty: Part 21
October 12, 2018 October 9, 2018 ~ S.M. Nolan	~ Leave a comment
Blood in the Water, Blood on the Air
Ozell was looking at the clerk like he knew precisely what had happened. He didn't, but he'd guessed enough that he'd piece the rest together. All he cared about was truth.
"You sent him out back." The clerk said nothing in return. Ozell thought to scold him, backed off. "Fine. Did he say anything?"
The clerk shook his head. "You only saw him, didn't speak to him." Another shake of his head.
Ozell swallowed fury to recall Paul's face. It kept him level. Ket's warnings, the recollection of what he knew — and didn't– swarmed in his mind.
"You see him before today?" Another shake. "Thank you." Ozell walked away, "Fucking enlightening conversation that."
"Sir?" A green said. "Commander, Sir, you might wanna' see this."
Ozell wanted to back-hand the kid for his groveling. The last thing he needed was more dehumanization. Wage-kids, he knew. Fresh from boot and new on the beat. Always rolling back-streets prepped and waiting, or offbeat and training, sparring.
Corp-sec worked like a well-oiled machine of mass enforcement and authority. Excellent for both total militarized movement and insurgent execution of will. Just as an empire's authority should. Ozell had never argued the existence of it, only the ethics– a thing those hacker tech-punks pretended to know, but never could.
Ethics meant jackshit from anyone who'd never been to war or forced to kill to survive. What could a bunch of barely not-kids know of sacrifice, compromise in death's face? Nothing, that's what.
The greenie led Ozell to the alley where N1T3 was hit. Ozell sent him away. He found the blood on his own, taking careful time to think everything over as he investigated the area.
Daniel Ozell did his best to eliminate all impressions he might be operating under. Reductionism said his system dictated Martin Black as its enemy, Ozell's through it. Whether Martin Black really was or not, didn't matter in the slightest. The system, though hunting a figment, wanted it gone as any entity disruptive to its goal, bottom-line.
Really, Ozell knew, the enemy was N1T3; the avatar, the idea. Martin Black could be killed; was currently off somewhere licking a bloody wound. Ozell knew immediately he could follow the trail, find N1T3, likely kill him. Sooner if he followed now.
But in the end, he knew where N1T3 would go. Those that did not, wondered where Martin Black would. It would take anyone searching for the latter longer to find the former and it would be roundabout, circuitous. As it had been for him.
So, Ozell would collect what he needed to make his move in the meantime.
He sent the greens back on patrol. They'd work on coming to the conclusion of following Black to N1T3 on their own. Ozell needed N1T3 for himself; to understand. Not just N1T3, but Ket, Riter, Dru, and the whole culture. He needed to know it from inside out.
Ozell'd never delude himself; Corp-sec only saw him as a tool. His effectiveness was all that mattered. It, versus the risk of potential damage at his being unleashed. The idea was showing he need not be leashed, rather than proving why he did.
Unlike many, he wasn't on corporations' side for dubiously flexible moral reasons. It was from the rigid logic of a man built by their successes, their strengths. Why need more? Especially if, as was the case, he cared only to see his son was guaranteed safety and belly-fat.
But is it guaranteed?
It always had been. Especially now though, Paul was a liability, a target. If the system didn't exploit him after thwarting those trying to, others would. How could Paul ever hope to live a normal life? His face was plastered across every corp-newsnet, internal or otherwise. The light-net was rallying behind him. If he weren't so certain his orders were God's law, he'd have worried Paul was being exposed even now.
But why? What was the point? Why rob a child– his child– of any hope at normality? Why make him a symbol of some stranger's crusade? And why such a fruitless one? What heartless bastard could do such things?
He tried to temper his rage again, couldn't this time. N1T3 had made Paul a target. Paul. His son. He would live and die a symbol of martyred oppression or eternal-tyranny. No matter what Daniel Ozell did to build a life for Paul, he'd eventually have to contend with some bygone hacker-punk's schemes.
Ozell decided N1T3 would die for it. A moment would come. A tipping point. N1T3 had signed the contract allowing for it. Now, it was coming. He was predator, preying on weakness, and the pack-leader would retaliate.
Ozell's fury became something more then. Brain-shorted by his own adrenaline, Daniel Ozell rose from examining N1T3's blood an entirely different man. He was no longer a Commander on orders, working on company time. Instead, he was now the Hunter that would take his time, secure his place and understanding, then strike.
When he did, he would murder N1T3 or Martin Black all the same.
N1T3 felt weightlessness, his arms and legs hanging. Something not-quite sturdy cradled him. He moaned at an injection. Lines. Sleep. He sat stock upright as if no time had passed, awake in the rear of an ambulance. Time had passed, but he'd have never been able to tell.
Dru sat beside him, a pair of friends she knew– one he recognized– had agreed to help for just such an occasion. Dru sent them out as he came round to speak privately.
"You're lucky to be alive."
"Get that a lot lately," he said, easing upward.
"Your vitals pinged Terry's rig." He tried to sit upward, completely incapably, gave up, and moaned. She sighed, "How much longer d'you intend to keep this up?"
He managed to swing himself to the bed's edge and nearly blacked out. He found himself on the floor of the ambulance with Dru shouting at someone. Her tone said it was him; he knew it too well. It was the one reserved only for him. Even Riter didn't quite get the same tone– though he had far more than a few reserved for himself.
He stopped fighting, pleased to find himself upright again, blood more or less still contained within him. The ambulance's doors were open now, Riter's garage beyond it. Anyone asking would get the guise of maintenance, a catch-all meaning Dru and Riter's reps were good everywhere, with everyone.
He stumbled out into the garage. "Get me outta' here, Dru. I'm drawing heat."
"Fuck off, Martin. Sit'own," she forced him back against the bumper.
She fought to pull at his clothing, leaving him feeling supremely exposed from his instant arousal. In her mind, he figured, it merely re-affirmed the adage that sex was preferable to anything. Who needed confirmation of that, really?
He tried squirming away, but she forced him still to check is wound, "No split. Good. Walk. Slowly. No running. You start running, you're dead. Go home. You need anything and we'll deliver it via drone. Stay out of sight. Stay safe."
She walked him through the station toward the cellar, stopped at the door to the stairs. "I love you, N1T3. Because I know you. Like I knew Martin Black. I don't love you as I loved him, but I do love you. I'm sorry for my part. I hope this grants you peace."
Tears welled in her eyes, shining long enough to catch light. She turned away as two life-times of sorrow splashed the floor. Both were now muted, and lost to time and alt-history. Both the one that might've been theirs and was squandered, and the one that could still be but would not. It would be taken soon enough anyhow.
N1T3 wouldn't have accepted further help if Dru'd had it to give. So, she gave what she could and sent him off, knowing she would never see him again. Though he would her; one, last time.
The return trip was long. Exhausting. The bleeding had stopped. Patched by Dru and her people's expertly skilled hands.
He'd lost too much blood though. Was light-headed. He'd shouldered his way home in the sewers, only vaguely aware of the direction he moved. He reached his squat, parts in-hand, and collapsed just inside the building. He'd only just managed to get the door closed.
Despite his dwindling time, his body could take no more. Precious hours were to be wasted recovering enough to move again. Pushing any further would make it worse. He had no choice.
The door shut and his body slid down along it, landing in a heap and already out cold.
Daniel Ozell was waiting. Reconning the hunt. That meant learning not only his prey's abilities, but his movements, habitat, and frequented environments too. The only way to effectively track and trap his prey was to understand it.
Not just N1T3 either, but hackers; so-called postdigital kids. He had to understand them.
He enveloped himself in reading and learning the culture at light-speed. One that had been running just as fast since its proliferation. It wasn't long before he began to understand the last few decades of history better.
Hacker culture moved in waves exponential to technology's evolution, hidden beneath punk and tech cultures as it groped for safety and sanctity in the newness of itself; Video games, PCs, smart tvs and phones. With them were the hackers building or breaking the things. All that time, hidden in the shadows. Decades. Growing. Spreading. Fueling the technology thirst now hydrating the world.
Formerly a culture of mathematicians, physicists, lecturers, and philosophers, it too had evolved. Nerds, geeks, dweebs; all manner of social outcasts were drawn to tech, its possibility and ubiquity. Hacking, really, was just practical short-hand; logical deduction.
What made certain hackers so good, Ozell quickly realized, wasn't their programming or knowledge of tech. Rather, it was how well they adapted their abilities to the structure available, whether it produced the desired or required product.
In simplest terms, it wasn't coding that made a hacker. It was their ability to recognize, conform to, and/or manipulate the imaginary and abstract as objects. Usually, through networks. Regardless, each object had a purpose and intricate interconnection to another. Through them, a change could or would be effected.
That was the essence of a "system." What Hackers used to refer to any level of connected actors or reactors whose sole purpose was output. The output itself and even nature of the system didn't matter to a hacker. Only that it was a system to be exploited or patched, or else periodically checked and cleared for vulnerabilities. As far as Ozell was concerned though, that was all gibberish.
At least, at first. Then he remembered what Ket had said; his system demanded an eye for an eye. Blood for blood.
But Martin Black, N1T3– whomever– hadn't spilt blood. In fact, neither he nor his people were much for violence. N1T3's own words on old forums posts and decades of old discussions, had been those of a peaceful Human Being.
True enough was it that they sublimated the urge en-masse, it wasn't blood. Not really. Digital blood, but it wasn't real. Trying to make it that way negated any real evidence. He knew it. N1T3 knew it. Everyone knew it. It was the avatar-equivalent of bloodletting; serving a purpose until something better came along and not without its benefits otherwise.
Except the corps were taking that as literal. Why?
Ozell didn't understand. It was nagging him. As if the explanation were already there, before him. He just needed to see it, right. Grasp it. He needed something to compare it to. Needed some scale to–
It hit him so hard he gasped for breath. Forced to control his sudden rush of adrenaline and terror, he panicked. Images spilled into his mind. Images of marching. War. Blood. Death. Destruction. Flames. Utter agony. Piercing screams. Wretched sobs wracking his coherence from cries for mothers fathers, sons and daughters. The lost and dead, children included.
Ozell's heart was attempting to hammer its way out; N1T3 hadn't made him a target. He'd made him an example. However poorly or misguided, he'd attempted to show the damage being done through a face no-one could object to. Whom better than a child with everything to gain?
But it was Ozell's son. His son!
Ozell'd never bothered considering the hacker-crusade was for the greater good. Every terrorist and criminal needing an easy-out claimed crusade. Funny thing about the word, Ozell knew from experience, was its other name. The one he'd faced up-close and personal, down the barrel of a sand-caked gun; jihad.
Holy war; death and murder by the millions over things spawned from faith, conviction. Not evidence or fact. The same kind of thing those very people were arguing shouldn't exist. So, he'd paid the possibility of greater goodness lip-service, as most would.
Until he recognized the scale he'd been missing.
Paul wasn't marked because he was anyone specific. Quite the opposite. He was marked because he was no-one in particular, simply there. Like Anisa Blanc. Ozell was told to point and shoot. That was all that mattered to him. Above that, it was the execs' hope that if Ozell did his job enough, all their problems would go away. They need only deign where to point him.
Paul Ozell was just another bystander now though. As he'd have been under any other circumstances. N1T3 had made Paul a bystander solely because he hadn't been one. The system required someone from within to understand its damage. Even if they didn't care for the message, they needed someone to care for its affected.
To corps, people weren't people anymore. They were rosters, damage reports, spreadsheets, schedules and statistics. People were numbers to some, avatars to others, and whomever else they were otherwise in day-to-day life. To corps though, they were only a value in a system. Usually a digital one.
Even now, Ozell knew it all boiled down to statistics. If Black were allowed to go free much longer, the corps believed it would signal a new variable rising in their system. One they could not afford; collapse. It would never be so immediate, but it would be inevitable all the same.
Problem was, people were only statistics because someone or something made them that way. Like Anisa Blanc; Terry Riter, Dru MacIntyre, Se'Ket Zaad, and Martin Black had been pegged as threats to so-termed "system stability." They were abnormal components in the pipeline. Possible benefits, as most, but also possible liabilities too.
Now, Paul Ozell was seen this way.
Six year old Paul Ozell, tucked safely in bed down the hall. Just feet away from his lune of a mother sleeping off her latest dose of lunatic meds. Paul Ozell was oblivious, unaware. Innocent. His father was not. Beyond that, he knew now what would happen, had seen it.
Blood. Death. Pain. Paul as part of it or suffering it.
Only one way out– Ozell saw and understood it, finally. Like those around him, he too, was a postdigital child. But even postdigital children had self-interests. At that Martin Black, aka N1T3, had ensured Corp-sec Commander Daniel Ozell's self-interests would be met– for a purpose not his alone, and after an appropriate period of suffering.
The manipulation N1T3 had managed from Ozell's system was astounding. He saw it now as one watched water-flows manipulated along a pipe. Save this was information. He'd already read about N1T3's fountains. Their spread. N1T3 himself wouldn't have even gotten the chance yet.
Then again, why would he need to? As its architect and visionary, N1T3 didn't need to know anything beyond his own involvement. That kept it working best. The water itself determined the importance and use of a fountain; those around the fountain kept it clean and working well.
If they did not, it was reflected. And like all other social manifestations, in the people and their surroundings. Filth begetting filth. An age-old adage whose inverse should be the ideal but also downright impossible.
Technology though had grown small and ubiquitous. Pervasive, viral, and versatile.
People could not live without it or its main output of datum. Until recently, Human history had been been relegated to bits and bytes at a time. Formed and stored by-hand on large, hard physical media; Paper. Clay. Papyrus. Stone.
Digital information didn't exist that way. It existed digitally. Through physical components, yes, but not in them. It existed in a netherworld; the aether of cyberspace.
Daniel Ozell now understood why he would kill Martin Black; his system demanded it– through him, as but an extension of its violent arm.
He would do it too, for his son, the world. Even Martin Black himself. It was the only way out for anyone. Even N1T3 knew it. He and N1T3 were forced into a contract for the falsified actions of a figment that were pinned on him.
Because of either's circumstances, neither could back out. N1T3 had to see things through, and Ozell had to retaliate. Once again, Ozell realized, N1T3 had known it all along.
September 21, 2018 September 18, 2018 ~ S.M. Nolan	~ Leave a comment
Cat and Mouse
N1T3 was running. Again. He'd probably lost somewhere on the order of 10 kilos in the last few days. He was also quite certain one of his arteries was beginning to clog, or had some structural weakness of a kind. It was hurting more with each run, like it was giving out.
His message had been as innocuous as possible– and Daniel Ozell responded exactly the over-blown way a taunted bully on a bad day might.
In the end, N1T3 knew, that's all any of his kind were– the corporate types, their loyalists. Most simply used money in place of fists. Fists remained involved though. Especially for the decision-makers, the BoDs and Execs. Of course, it was easier to pay others to do the beatings than spend their own energy. Easier on the knuckles, too.
For puppeteers, those were important assets.
N1T3's message said few words, but its subtext was obvious; "Cat and mouse now; Find me. Find you. Who draws first blood? You didn't yet. Bravo."
He left the message on the net, exposing its post-point blatantly, and started running.
Ozell needed something. Anything. If only to stall. No-one was ready yet. Even Ozell himself. If he'd been ready to do what was needed of him, he'd have killed $trydr and Dru. Among other things, it meant he hadn't chosen sides. Not yet. His son was what mattered.
His son, and now finding the man that threatened him.
N1T3 left him a bread-crumb because he needed it. Ozell needed a win. Power. N1T3 had some, didn't want it, saw an opportunity to disseminate it. Ozell wouldn't see it that way yet, but N1T3 and the others did.
So, N1T3 was running. Fleeing. Somewhere behind him, Ozell was fuming, raging, sniffing out his scent to hunt him down. His system demanded it. Just as it had demanded everything else thus far. That same system Ozell fed and lived off, put the bullet in Anisa Blanc's back, set fire to her corpse, then stayed Ozell's hand against Dru and Riter. The same system currently hunting N1T3 on a death warrant.
Who wouldn't be running?
N1T3's next safehouse he knew equally well as the first. It wasn't much. Just a hovel out of the way. A former apartment, on a derelict corner, in one more rundown, abandoned area. Once more river-side, though not as secluded, yet obscured by emptiness.
Riter's diversion had taught him an important thing; London was nowhere near flat. Storm-sewers ran everywhere, interconnected not only with rivers and one-another, but also linked to the suburbs– like city-states, but smaller, more-guarded. At least, for a flat-landers' entrance by air or land.
But N1T3 had sewers.
Problem was, useful as that intel was, he couldn't use it yet. He needed to get hidden, stop moving. If Ozell caught him in the sewers, he'd be gunned down before the time was ripe. What needed to would never take place.
N1T3 focused elsewhere to block out pain in his legs and chest, follow his gut toward his destination. He was glad to have squandered most of his sense of smell on youthful excess. The air had grown thicker, and though he couldn't smell it, he tasted rotting water in gritty air on his tongue.
He focused on "home;" the place was stocked. Good. It would take time for the cat to sniff him out. Nothing could be done about it but wait, run if needed.
His feet splattered mixes of Human and Earthen refuse, a backwash of civilization spilling in little-by-little on floodwaters into its own bowels. N1T3 was immune to the sound, the distant squeals of rats, rumbling roads and piping– encroaching civilization that said he was getting closer.
The roads themselves were still used. Most of the mains, anyway. His new digs would be a pair of blocks up and over; by his estimate, five or six more manholes forward and one or two down the mainline.
He slowed, maneuvering his way through darkness with echolocation and footfalls. His wet shoes plodded shallow streams that felt more homely the longer her traversed them. Ozell would've called him "a rat in its natural habitat."
He wasn't a rat, of course, but baiting a cat into chasing another cat was too risky. Too different an approach was required for the subtlety of predatorial-hunts. Ozell himself might've been acting on predator-predator instincts, but his system was forcing him to act on predator-prey instincts. Even he knew discrepancy of such kind was pointless. If he hadn't, he'd have long ago abandoned the mantle of corp-sec for more promising ventures.
What kept him around wasn't hope for fulfillment, it was obligation. Likely, to honor those closest to him through it. N1T3 knew that of Ozell, as he knew it of all, postdigital children.
Like Society, whether Ozell accepted himself as part of Humanity or not, didn't matter. It was immutable. The damage being done was harming itself as much as its victims. Accepting or not, it was happening.
Those were the stakes. N1T3 knew it. As everyone else did. Even Ozell's masters. Even if buried so deeply it resembled the ancient skeletons of their first dead, it remained as immutable as the law it represented. The problem wasn't the people though, it was what the system did to them.
But systems could be changed. Ozell needed to learn that first hand. He needed to know the game was rigged from the start, because the system was controlled by its own, self-made rules. Ones written by long-dead men and wanton cheats, never exposed to the concepts of technology, instant and global communication, or mass-dissemination of information.
Ozell knew that, or had the capacity to. N1T3 had seen it in his eyes: in that cold moment of deadened panic before reflex took over. That instant of deer in the headlights before turning master manipulator, the flit from prey to apex-predator.
Ozell knew how things stood and obligation told him not to care. Obligation alone.
That was the essence of the postdigital struggle. Every hacker knew it, on some level or another. Some just weren't programmers. They couldn't see the inherent programmability in organization, its structure. The subject or method of organization didn't matter– Stage IV civilizations might stabilize entropy, after all. Nothing wasn't off the table if Tech, Science, and Humanity progressed far enough together.
Knowing for certain wasn't possible yet, but getting to that point of knowing was.
100,000s of years of potential Human progress ahead, and yet even the tech available to N1T3 could lead to immortality given a slight synthesis with the Human body. What was the harm if that body's life-span rose astronomically or disappeared altogether to become universal, eternal?
N1T3 saw none. In fact, he was so certain of the post-human certainty, he'd ensured he'd go to his death having done his part to speed the process. If not for himself, then those he cared for– and all like him that would come later.
Above all, he did it not from obligation, but love, kinship, and hope.
N1T3 pushed his way up from a manhole into darkness. Nearby enough could be heard the sounds of life, but its distance made it impossible to see. At that, it was mostly auto-cars, the last of the courier drivers of manuals.
Soon enough, they'd be outlawing that, too.
N1T3 took a deep breath and fought the cover back in place. He made mental note of its weight, how long it might take to lift if fleeing. The leverage from beneath was easier than above. If he had to run, it could trap him.
Seconds. Breaths. Heartbeats. These were the tempos of life and death now.
He'd have to find a better entrance. The place was never ideal, that's what the pier was for, and his shack atop the office-building. Even as he made his way up the few steps to the rundown doorway, he was double-checking the area, listening carefully. He waited until certain he was alone, then pushed the door open.
The converted building exactly as left; a large, bi-level home, divided well into four flats. From outside, it looked twenty-years abandoned. Then again, it'd looked that way for somewhere on the order of 30 years now.
It wasn't eye-catching or well-known. Rather, it was obscure, innocently placed. A place of history and mystery N1T3 had felt attracted to since first seeing it as a child. The sort of attraction that told one of a place, moment, or person of importance, like the first meeting of an old-friend-to-be.
He slipped in. The place remained stocked, undisturbed. The flat he'd secured, near the upper-rear, was sectioned off and reinforced. Its windows were entirely blacked out, its power expertly spliced and hidden.
It was the best, last hope of remaining safely hidden. Regardless of how long that lasted, it needed to be up to snuff.
The light dimmed as he stepped in and flipped it on, stabbing his gut with the sign of things to come.
His servers were pulling more power than usual. Bad voltage. A shorted line, probably. Or a converter or conditioner. That meant a special supply run…
But getting to Ket would be impossible. She'd be next on Ozell's shit-list. He might even survive it– if he wasn't stupid enough to fuck with her. If not, well… she had connections, and the need to make examples. Above all, she was untouchable.
Even Ozell would be forced to bow.
If Riter and Dru had been mail-armored; Ket was layered in force-fields and body armor so futuristic it made Ozell's State-of-the-Art Corp-Sec ceramics look like boys playing war in cardboard.
Fucking with her, fucked him.
Ozell lingered at the door, forced to wait. He needed a different touch here. Corp-sec's castration at Riter's had been enough to check their ego. They didn't want this one broadcast. Not this one. They didn't want it known what was happening now: that an off-the-books black-market dealer with fingers in every industries pies, and some of her own, was their last best hope.
They didn't want people knowing Martin Black was being chased, hunted, that he had sympathizers, allies, and was continually evading them.
Most of all, they didn't want the war being waged to be known yet.
As ridiculous as it felt, Ozell could do nothing. Not yet. He needed more before he could dick the Corps or Black that much. He had power but not enough. Not yet. N1T3 and his allies were exposing every weakness the corps had left to any and all onlookers. And as deftly and swiftly as possible. Seemingly, for no other reason than to show they could.
Corp-sec couldn't put them down yet. Not with Anisa Blanc's images still fresh in mind. They had to know what the hell was going on too. Blanc's charred corpse. Ozell's .40 caliber slug. Its wounds.
A flash of memory. A squeeze. Blanc crumpling forward. Slow-motion fall of shock from overloaded nerves. Still-fleeting terror in her face trembling over those last, rasping gasps.
The door opened. He fanned his men out around the perimeter. He wasn't stupid. He knew Se'Ket. She'd long been on the tongue of every corp-sec commander. She was a Sphinx. A walking riddle, enigmatic in every sense.
And an absolute bombshell.
She stood like some Egyptian Goddess of her namesake's land. Her chestnut hair streamed down the shoulders of her thin, flowing clothing like fine-drapery. Full-bodied shapes hinted themselves in the edges of her clothing, accenting perfect hips and breasts but hiding everything else as a come-hither for all to see but none to achieve.
None but Black. How he'd done it, Ozell'd never know. Married or not, and affiliations aside, he'd have pinned her to a bed and never stopped given half a chance. Or, if she were so inclined, allowed her the same. He knew too, he'd have loved every second of it.
That's how she was; modern day legend. Mythical. Damn-near perfect.
She was also one of the most well-known, wanted criminals alive. No-one had proof of course, but no-one needed it. If something was going on somewhere, Se'Ket knew about it. If someone needed something, so long as the price was met, they got it. At some point, all of those transactions went through her.
Yet she was so much more.
Any pursuit for her was a facade. Everyone knew it. Ozell'd never met her before, but he knew her well enough by reputation. He also knew how to cut through bullshit. In her case, it didn't leave much behind, but was enough for a vague image.
Ket was the same age as her former lover, Martin Black. They'd met in school, fallen madly in love, then aggressively out again. Ever since, she'd been floating from one mate to another, searching. For what, Ozell doubted she knew.
In the course of that floating, she met people. Using her nature and flagrant sexuality to cultivate connections. By 20, she was running drugs, guns, goods, anything. White, gray, black didn't matter either. Money was the object.
Ozell admired her for that alone.
He knew what she was, why; as all predators knew their willing prey. Or would-be willing, he noticed as the door opened and she appraised him.
"We will speak privately or not at all."
He eyed his nearest man– a woman named Michelle; all the same in armor, and nodded.
Ket led him in, to the fountain in the front room now stretched out like an accordion dressing wall with its surroundings decorated for a boudoir showing. The theme was something of ancient nature and sex meeting modern technology. Hints of granite and marble inflected themselves in shadow; lime and sandstone in the neutral warmth. Added to and reinvigorated by the sprightly ivy and verdant plant-life otherwise hung about, the fountain was everything N1T3 could have dreamed.
In that moment, Ozell knew everything and nothing.
Foremost, he knew all of the rumors about her were true. Somehow each was true, no matter their contradictions. He knew it in a heart-beat. It could be no other way with a creature so unbound. He knew, too, she was one of the unparalleled beauties. Even in her ruthlessness, she had the art of subtlety; in the gore of the kill, she had predatory grace.
Beyond everything else though, he knew being part of corp-sec meant one day putting a bullet in her. Trying to. Challenging this force of nature… a force he'd be have to extinguish or bottle. At least, attempting to.
It was impossible. He knew it even now. One could no more extinguish a force of nature than pull a star from the sky. He wasn't sure which Ket was, but he felt her pull. He needed to know what she knew. Needed her. If only for a moment. And if only for a hint of understanding, of proper stimulation.
He never expected to walk away a changed man, but such was her power.
Poetry-Thing Thursday: Lean Upon the Wicked
Lean upon the wicked.
Trod upon the lame.
Chase them through the thicket.
Hang them without name.
If judgment comes to call,
say it was a game.
This is the creed of a motherless breed.
This is the soul-darkened human seed.
This is the eyrie of an immoral steed,
pregnant upon invirtuous deed.
Death is on your ticket.
Freedom's in your name.
Never can be resown.
We fight but not in vain.
Eyes and minds alight.
And burning as one flame.
This is the song, of a petulant need.
This is the cry, that we cannot concede.
This is a wound, borne of gluttonous greed,
bending like, unbroken reed.
Cry of the fallen.
Breath of the flame.
Forget the calling.
Strike without shame.
For when at last,
the flotsam's gone to claim,
and tidal waves roll,
cling to the innocents
and not your goal.
This is the sigh of the chaos gone by,
This is the reel of impossible cry.
This is the sound of the freewheel afly,
remembered long past the day that we die.
September 14, 2018 September 9, 2018 ~ S.M. Nolan	~ Leave a comment
Facing Facts
There was never a doubt in N1T3's mind he'd have to leave the pier. It was always a question of time. Even in the complete absence of any otherwise, luck was on his side; the drones clued him in first. He'd just left the firehouse, having said goodbyes final enough given one nearby sunrise or another.
Until then, he'd be running. He didn't know it yet.
As the fates had deigned his running before, they deigned this as well. Whether anyone knew it or not, those fates were twins of balance; the yin and yang, positive and negative, 0 and 1. They were the binary manifestation of that fragile, frail line between life and death.
Duality aside, it was a bad time. N1T3 was just past the first sewer-entrance when he heard the second drone. Unmasked. Full-tilt roaring. Something louder far off. Bio-diesel idle; like a cat at-loaf, but headed for Riter's place.
He'd guessed Ozell would find the connection. It was the only response. Eye for an eye. That's what his system demanded. Governments could never have been so brutal. They relied on the people to fuel them. Corporations didn't. They relied on money, and everyone had a price.
Ozell wasn't working for governments. He wasn't even working for sentient beings. He was the organic appendage of a system whose sole intent for him was murder, extortion, peace and order through force. He was a hammer, and not of justice and peace, as promised in the brochures.
Everyone knew that about Corp-sec, its people. On some level, all acknowledged it. Even if only to laugh from upon mountains. People knew it as reality. N1T3 and Ozell most assuredly. They knew the game being played and their places in it.
His eyes and reactions, voice and nonchalance had told it. Daniel Ozell was a cold-blooded killer. N1T3 knew something crucial most did not though: that it did not make him any less worthy of anything any other normal person deserved.
Daniel Ozell was not evil. Evil did not exist. Not beyond the referential frame of the I/O switch– in this case, a person's perspective. An actuator could not be evil. It required outside forces to turn it from anything other than inert switch. In that, its turning was temporary and 2-positioned, fore and back. On or off. 0 or 1.
Like most organized systems, society was programmable. N1T3 knew that. Ozell knew it. Most hackers did. Hackers existed on levels of reference between their two lives; the R-L and digital ones. In Ozell's case, N1T3 surmised, that digital world was simply a fantasy-world of misconceptions, mistakings of technology for magic.
Existence had changed. It was now a world of avatars, imagination, bliss, and paradise. Tailored to one's changing desires as instantly or intuitively as desired. What N1T3 knew that Ozell did not however, was that Hackers didn't have to be programmers.
The first Earth-grown hackers were bacteria. Plain. Organic. Beneath analog.
Chemical hackers, managing to be better than the rest. That was it. Evolution and adaptation were their systems, as N1T3's servers were his. The primordial soup's descendants were hackers using physical advantages to ensure their system of life continued to function, patching and debugging as they went along.
But the first manifestations of evolution were not the first of programming.
Programming, incidental or not, was required by the very forces it manipulated. Whether that programming was accessible by the program itself (ie, Humanity) or something greater, didn't matter. Humanity didn't want to know how to program itself. Especially not that easily.
N1T3 was so certain of it, he was banking everything on showing them how desperately they needed to know.
But Hackers, real ones, always lived as needed. Never wanted.
Hacking– the process of examining a system's structure for flaws, and attempting to exploit or patch it– made inherent, systemic fallibility acceptable. Security was less important overall than stability, especially on scales of social systems.
Every hacker knew the system deserved consideration, even if only to gauge whether its repair or upgrade could be reasonably accommodated. Otherwise, it was easier to simply re-write or re-build the project from the ground up, consigning its remnants to bit-recycling.
In the modern world though, that was impossible. Even "model Humans" worked mediocre jobs punching keys for corp-creds, slaves to systems erasing them at a ripple out of place, not needing them otherwise, and paying them pittances in the meantime. The few crossover wage-slaves between extremes of the loyal/not spectrum were always looking to jump-ship, and did so whenever possible.
Those ship-jumpers though, were very real and important digital spines. They were Human, and Humanity through it. Its security and future. The system would cop-it entirely without them– as a matter of when, not if.
Unfortunately, Wage-lords cared only for how much the system could squeeze for them.
So the jumpers jumped; in droves. Then groups. Then ones and twos at a time.
N1T3 never had to. Simply by virtue of his place during the turbulence. Yet, like the others, he'd been building himself up. The difference was, his currency was ideas. Powerful ideas. More than that, ideas that could allow for indefinite, Human existence. Especially if they turned out to be natural facts somehow, or essences to life– proverbs even. They lived as only the paradoxical reality of information allowed, both forgotten and unknown, yet universal and ubiquitous. All of it never-ending.
After all, even heat-death cannot erase its own cause. Even if no-one exists to know it.
Americans had lost their chances at bloodless rebellion after a century's blindness to encroaching reality. Combating and eradicating a corrupting infestation was near-impossible once entrenched. Worse, was the American system's over-saturation of it.
Economic and ideological slime oozed from American markets, as Globally infectious as a bilious sewage-beast of Lovecraftian proportion excreting for all but the few within its festered putrescence. It couldn't be allowed to happen here, too.
N1T3 had watched America closely. Precisely long enough to know where they were headed. He had to. It was only afterward he could check his predictions against reality, use them as benchmarks for the insanity to come.
Time and again, his musings and postulations of the American take-over came to pass. Time and again he drew logical lines, seeing them replayed in later, contemporary events. He repeatedly applied known systems of greed and scheming to facets of modern American life and economics; estimating outcomes to draw further, logical conclusions.
Where he and reality wound up were nearer together than any would have liked.
Humanity was a social species. No matter how much it wished not to be. Cannibalizing itself was simply the effect of a starving, multi-tailed lizard taking one or two bites to stave off death. It made sense, but the situation was never so dire to begin with.
There were better ways.
That, N1T3 knew. As most Humans did, whether aware or not. They had to. How else could such reality manifest in N1T3 himself, his so-called kind– the networked, neural consciousness of society, if not?
The answer was obvious. So obvious, he wasn't certain why he'd bothered in the first place. He knew why he'd been driven to act. That was people like Ozell's bosses; execs, CEOs, BoDs pursuing bottom-lines. What motivated others to allow them to go so far was what mystified him.
But he'd had to know, to understand.
N1T3 learned best through sacrifice, trauma. Self-inflicted or otherwise. His own numbness to those things, their ability to reflect others' compassion, required he understand how blind they were to their own pain. It was only after going too far taking advantage of it that he'd begun to feel true pain. Not only his own but, he recognized later, that of every postdigital child.
Once revealed, he could tend to it.
Although none of it made others' motivations clearer, it cemented his enough that they no longer mattered. That was all once more put to the test with Ozell's arrival overhead. Unfortunately, it was one of his vulnerable moments.
Vulnerable however, did not mean impotent.
He let the militant convoy roll past overhead. A pair of drone squadrons buzzed and hissed through town. Even a few years ago, it would've caused an uproar.
No-one was left to get in an uproar now though. No-one but Riter, the firehouse…. and N1T3.
N1T3 broke into a run, slapping across trickled sewer-water. He didn't have much time. He'd need to be home and acted before they left Riter's. He was already hacking $trydr's back-door server; the one used for personal messages and configured specifically for N1T3.
Nothing sinister, merely privileged.
None of it would stop Ozell from hassling– even murdering, Riter and Dru. N1T3 just hoped $trydr's better sense prevailed.
It took all of Ozell's strength not to kick the motherfucking door down. He prized himself on his strengths. Even Terry Riter, the fucking weasel, knew it was a feat he didn't. All the same, something arrogant beneath his surface took residence.
Ozell allowed it; the body-cams were rolling. Everyone knew it was an episode of Bloodbath-Friday brewing. The girl was utterly unfazed. It was that which convinced Ozell he might be killed, if not careful.
Dru's eyes were as open as her dossier. Ozell sensed her mind, knew it as N1T3 did– as he himself might have, given different circumstances. Kinship stirred in him. Not from her eyes, but something deeper. Something he'd felt with Kay before…
He stiffened, knowing immediately and exactly how things had to go. He fanned his teams out, "Secure the perimeter. Remember, we're here for Black."
Dru and Riter were already in the garage, meeting Ozell there. He stayed his team outside.
"Where is he?"
Riter spoke, "Gone."
All the same, Dru didn't need to speak. Ozell knew he'd killed her friend, had come to take another. He knew she'd been hurt more than anyone, through circumstance. Had and would be, by him. He wasn't about to threaten her mate. Rather than being out of his nature, it was suicidal.
Hackers were predators. Digital predators of systems, largely, but predators. Ozell knew that. He was one. The prey they chose, their methods of hunting, was the only determinant near the connotations of good or evil.
If he'd been a programmer, Ozell knew, he'd have seen the 0s and 1s that led to their logic. Even if he wasn't and didn't, Martin Black was his order. These two's time would come, but not here. Not today. Not with him. Ozell didn't need them. He'd get all he wanted with Black's head.
Before tonight, he might've even let Black live. But even predators have predators. They're they apex. The super-predators. If either Corps or Hackers were to make him a frame job, they'd have to see what it took.
He made a hand-motion, "Search the place. I want Black. Nothing else. Fuck around and answer to my boot."
Riter sneered, "Noble of you."
"What'd he want, Riter?"
"The same thing we all want, Commander: Freedom."
Ozell stepped closer, the frenzied search ignored by intruder and host alike. "I'll ignore aiding and abetting a fugitive if you cooperate now."
"But I am cooperating, Commander," he said eying the place, its moving bodies.
Ozell's jaw tightened. He glanced around. The massive workshop hid an untold number of crevices, nooks, alcoves, crannies, and crevices. Each one needed only a pinhole for surveillance.
Problem with bloodbaths was, unless contained and presented properly, they spilled out.
That knowledge, and Ozell's gut, confirmed two things; There was no excuse for blood here, and Terry Riter was broadcasting every frame to his servers and the net through them. It might as well have been live news at nine.
Ozell leaned close, "Threaten my son again, and I will cut your throat with her dead hand."
Despite knowing the raging creature beside Riter was ready to gore him, Ozell didn't flinch. As before, he was being clear: Eye for an eye.
Beyond that, no shots needed be fired. Not yet. That could change, likely would.
But nothing mattered to Daniel Ozell, the man, more than his son, Paul. No matter the stakes, if anyone came within a hair's breadth of harming him, he would kill more coldly and efficiently than any Human before him, leaving the remains as evidence and warning. Exactly as Dru would do for Riter; or he for her.
It was a Human threat, real. Impersonal. Riter gave only the slightest hint of acknowledgment in his eye, akin to a minute squint. They understood each other perfectly.
Ozell about-faced. He made a hand-motion and issued an order. The building emptied in a flash. He stepped out through the garage doors after the last of his men.
Riter called after him, "I'd suggest, Commander, never meddling in the affairs of wizards."
Ozell grit his teeth and stormed off.


Students learn to identify and manage insect pests on a cranberry marsh.
How do growers identify, monitor populations of, and control insect pests?
In this lesson students continue to manage their adopted marsh by responding to insect pest threats with an approach called Integrated Pest Management (as described in Background). To be successful students must carefully observe samples of insects found in their marsh and identify which stages of the life cycle are represented in these samples. They also use information about pest treatment to decide on a response strategy. Because the success of many pest treatments depends upon carefully matching the treatment to the pest's stage of development, this lesson provides an opportunity for students to reinforce their knowledge of insect life cycles.


Choosing the perfect gown is no simple task! We've gone to the trouble of putting together some of the finest collectors of wedding dresses Kent and the surrounding areas have to offer below. From second hand stock to hand made bespoke items, accessories, shoes and more, take a peek at everything bridalwear in Essex here on The Wedding Secret.


Some taxpayers are eligible to prepare their federal tax returns at no cost using web-based tax software that's made available through Free File, an alliance created between the Internal Revenue Service and leading tax preparation software providers. These products make tax preparation free—or at least very inexpensive—for many Americans, but some limitations do apply.
Federal law limits Free Filing to taxpayers with adjusted gross incomes of $66,000 or less in the 2017 tax year. This is the return you'll file in 2018. But each software provider can and often does set its own criteria for eligibility. In some cases, the income threshold is less, although it can't be more than $66,000. Some age restrictions might also apply, and not all of these programs are available in all states.
Luckily, the IRS offers an extremely helpful interactive tool on its website where you can simply answer a few questions about your age, your income, and where you live. The wizard will tell you which of these software programs are available to you.
A 5-star rating means the tax software offers exceptional functionality in preparing this year's tax return as well as planning for next year.
A 4-star rating indicates that the tax software provides top-notch functionality both to prepare this year's tax return and to plan for next year's taxes.
A 3.5-star rating means that this tax software is fully functional and provides useful help and easy-to-understand navigation. It might also offer some error-checking or planning features.
Tax software with a 3-star rating is fully functional to prepare a tax return.
A 2.5-star rating indicates that the tax software is functional, but it might be lacking in help, navigation, or error-checking features. Another possibility is that we might have encountered some difficulties with the software that we were later able to resolve.
A 2-star rating indicates that this tax software lacks functionality in at least one core area of preparing a tax return. This prevented us from completed the test scenario.
The Free File software programs are sorted by rating from highest to smallest, and those with the same rating are sorted alphabetically.
FreeTaxUSA earned high marks for its help features, its good use of screen space, and its review functions. The software's Support Center and Tax Help Menu really make it shine in user-friendliness, although it's not particularly mobile-friendly.
It's free for federal use through the Free File Alliance if you're age 61 or younger and your adjusted gross income is less than $51,000. Otherwise, you can purchase Deluxe FreeTaxUSA for just $6.95, which is almost free. State returns cost $12.95 for most states, although some are free.
TaxACT's colorful and friendly interface and strong help functions make this software highly useful. TaxACT gets high marks for including a withholding calculator, FAFSA worksheets, and guidance on the health insurance mandate.
It's free for federal use, and state returns are free as well. Free File Alliance users must be age 56 or younger with AGIs of less than $53,000 or be eligible for the Earned Income Tax Credit or have an AGI of less than $66,000 if you're active duty military.
If you don't meet these guidelines but your tax situation is such that you're planning to file one of the easier tax forms, 1040A or 1040EZ, TaxACT offers this service for free as well separate from its Free File service.
If your tax situation is more complicated, you can pay $15 for expert help.
TaxSlayer earns high marks for offering users multiple ways to navigate its software. The design is simple and uncluttered, and it offers a good explanations of tax topics. It's available in English or Spanish.
TaxSlayer is free for both state and federal use, but only for Form 1040EZ unless you file through the Free File program. TaxSlayer's age limit requires that you be younger than 52 years old.
TurboTax gets high marks for its easily accessible help content, frequent reviews to check for errors, and its professional look and feel. Additional features for preparing an extension or amended return are available, and TurboTax helps calculate withholding allowances.
Eligible for the earned income credit.
All state returns are free. And if you decide for some reason that you want to upgrade to one of TurboTax's paid versions, you can so without losing any of the data you've already entered.
1040.com's program is efficient, although not glitzy. The help functions are pretty decent. The error check caught a data entry error and we were able to jump from one part of the tax software to another part when necessary.
The Free File AGI limit is $60,000, but the program is also free for federal use if you need only file Form 1040EZ.
ezTaxReturn is really great software for the intermediate to more advanced user. The worksheet-based data input screens minimize clicking and speed up the tax preparation process. The limited help content, however, makes this a more difficult option for the casual user. State returns are also free.
H&R Block's Free File Edition is very functional, no-frills Web-based tax software. The software features sophisticated error checking and is backed by H&R Block's "worry-free audit support."
On the downside, it's a bit cumbersome to go back and change your answers if you happen to pick the wrong one the first time around. And help content is limited. It does, however, accommodate some itemizing if you prefer that to claiming the standard deduction.
Unfortunately, its Free File Alliance option is particularly stringent: It's limited to age 50.
FileYourTaxes checks for errors after each data input screen and it can file extension. The software's navigation may be particularly frustrating for some people, however.
It's free for both federal and state returns and the income limit mirrors federal rules: It's $66,000 for 2017 returns. There's also a minimum AGI rule. Your adjusted gross income must be at least $9,000 unless you're active duty military.
Although OnLine Taxes is a fully functional tax preparation program, its biggest drawback is the lack of more contextual help to explain particular tax topics. The software can prepare extensions and amended returns. It's free for federal use, but state returns cost $9.95.
eSmart Tax provides a fine experience for taxpayers with relatively simple tax situations. The software's help functions are limited to providing answers to just 11 commons questions, and we weren't able to complete our sample tax return due to an error message relating to rental income that we couldn't resolve. It's not recommended for landlords with rental properties.
This software is free for federal use, but state returns cost comparatively significant $26.99 and the Free File version is limited to those age 54 and younger.
The Free File Alliance also offers free fillable forms if your income or age are such that you can't qualify for any of the free software programs. Unfortunately, they require that you fill them out by hand. The forms are available on the IRS website.


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Home > News > SAB Biotherapeutics Awarded $57.5M from BARDA and U.S. Department of Defense for Manufacturing of SAB-185 for the Treatment of COVID-19
SIOUX FALLS, S.D.–(BUSINESS WIRE)–SAB Biotherapeutics (SAB), a clinical-stage biopharmaceutical company developing a novel immunotherapy platform to produce specifically targeted, high-potency, fully human polyclonal antibodies without the need for human serum, today announced that, as part of Operation Warp Speed, the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority (BARDA), part of the Office of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, and the Department of Defense Joint Program Executive Office for Chemical, Biological, Radiological and Nuclear Defense (JPEO-CBRND) have awarded SAB $57.5 million in expanded scope for its DiversitAb™ Rapid Response Antibody Program contract for the manufacturing of SAB-185, the company's clinical-stage therapeutic candidate for COVID-19.
"We are pleased to be awarded this additional contract scope, which we believe is a reflection of the compelling science that supports SAB-185's potential in COVID-19, as well as the urgent need for treatment options amidst the global pandemic. Previous data has indicated that this human polyclonal antibody therapeutic has potent neutralizing activity against SARS-CoV-2, potentially driving more available doses, giving us the confidence to continue to progress our clinical development programs for SAB-185," said Eddie J. Sullivan, PhD, co-founder, president and CEO of SAB Biotherapeutics. "This manufacturing agreement with BARDA and the Department of Defense supports our vision of bringing a novel, first-of-its-kind human polyclonal antibody therapeutic candidate for COVID-19 to patients, and I am proud of the work by our team and appreciate the continued support from BARDA and JPEO as we continue to rapidly advance SAB-185."
SAB-185 is currently being tested as a COVID-19 therapeutic in an ongoing Phase 1 trial in healthy volunteers and an ongoing Phase Ib trial in patients with mild or moderate COVID-19. SAB has leveraged its expertise to develop scalable manufacturing capabilities to support clinical activities, and continues to increase capacities in working with contract manufacturing organizations.
About SAB-185
SAB-185 is a fully-human, specifically-targeted and broadly neutralizing polyclonal antibody therapeutic candidate for COVID-19. The therapeutic was developed from SAB's novel proprietary DiversitAb™ Rapid Response Antibody Program. SAB filed the Investigational New Drug (IND) application and produced the initial clinical doses in just 98 days from program initiation. The novel therapeutic has shown neutralization of both the Munich and Washington strains of mutated virus in preclinical studies. Preclinical data has also demonstrated SAB-185 to be significantly more potent than human-derived convalescent plasma.
About SAB Biotherapeutics, Inc.
SAB Biotherapeutics, Inc. (SAB) is a clinical-stage, biopharmaceutical company advancing a new class of immunotherapies leveraging fully human polyclonal antibodies. Utilizing some of the most complex genetic engineering and antibody science in the world, SAB has developed the only platform that can rapidly produce natural, specifically-targeted, high-potency, human polyclonal immunotherapies at commercial scale. SAB-185, a fully-human polyclonal antibody therapeutic candidate for COVID-19, is being developed with initial funding supported by the Biomedical Advanced Research Development Authority (BARDA), part of the Assistant Secretary for Preparedness and Response (ASPR) at the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the Department of Defense (DoD) Joint Program Executive Office for Chemical, Biological, Radiological, and Nuclear Defense (JPEO-CBRND) Joint Project Lead for Enabling Biotechnologies (JPL-EB). In addition to COVID-19, the company's pipeline also includes programs in Type 1 diabetes, organ transplant and influenza. For more information visit: www.sabbiotherapeutics.com or follow @SABBantibody on Twitter.
Melissa Ullerich
mullerich@sabbiotherapeutics.com
https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20201130005547/en/SAB-Biotherapeutics-Awarded-57.5M-from-BARDA-and-U.S.-Department-of-Defense-for-Manufacturing-of-SAB-185-for-the-Treatment-of-COVID-19

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Registration for the WADEM Congress 2019 is now open. Please read the registration information carefully before beginning the online registration.
All fees are quoted in Australian dollars ($AUD) and are inclusive of 10% GST (Goods and Services Tax). To convert AUD into a different currency, please visit - https://www.xe.com/currencyconverter/.
* Please provide your WADEM membership number when registering for the discounted rate. You can find your membership number on the Profile or Membership Account pages on the WADEM website.
Join the association and receive a $50-$220 discount off the Congress registration fee!
Join us for a classic Aussie BBQ featuring live cooking that showcases traditional Australian music, culture and hospitality. The BBQ will be held the Brisbane Convention & Exhibition Centre on the first evening of the Congress.
This ticket is included in your full registration fee. You can purchase additional guest tickets through the online registration form.
Why not experience some local Australian wines at our Wine Tasting Evening on the second day of the Congress? Tickets for this will be at an additional cost (mentioned above) and can be purchased through the online registration form.
Join us for a stimulating evening discussing 'hot topics' with your colleagues. Hosted by experts in a variety of contemporary topics who will trigger lively discussion at each table of 8-10 people. You will have the opportunity to move tables to participate in other discussions at two points during the evening, after entrée and after main course. This is a great way to network and stimulate thinking while enjoying a meal with colleagues. Tickets for this will be at an additional cost (mentioned above) and can be purchased through the online registration form.
WADEM Members are required to provide their WADEM membership number. If you are not a WADEM member and are interested in joining the association, please visit - wadem.org/membership/individual-membership. Upon joining, you will receive a confirmation email with your membership number.
Only full-time students are eligible for the student rate. Students are required to submit an official letter on their institution's letterhead OR a scanned copy of their 2018/2019 Student ID from the institution where they are studying indicating proof of their student status. File must be uploaded at the time of registration.
Developing Nations categories are classified according to the World Bank. Please click here for the full list.
Only online registration is accepted. To register, go to the registration site and follow the instructions there. An acknowledgement of your registration will be sent by email upon its receipt and payment.
Day registration covers attendance of the congress for one day only. Single day registration does not include entrance to the Aussie BBQ, even if the chosen registration day is 7 May 2019.
Registrations received by 8 February 2019 must be paid in full by 8 February 2019 in order to receive the early bird registration rate.
Cancellations (partial or full) must be made in writing to the Congress secretariat. Cancellations received prior to 7 April 2019 will receive a full refund minus a $150 AUD administration fee. Cancellations received after 7 April 2019 will not be refunded. Substitute delegates will be accepted.
All best endeavours will be made to present the program as presented on this website. The Congress and its agents reserve the right to alter without prior notice, any of the arrangements, timetables, plans or other items relating to the meeting, for any cause beyond its reasonable control. The Organising Committee and the Congress Organisers are not liable for any loss or inconvenience caused as a result of such alteration.
In the event of unforeseen circumstances, the Organising Committee and the Congress Organisers do not accept responsibility for loss of monies caused by delays. Participants are advised to take out personal travel insurance and to extend their policy to cover personal possessions. The Congress does not cover individuals against cancellations of bookings or theft or damage to belongings.
The World Association for Disaster and Emergency Medicine is a multidisciplinary professional association whose mission is the evidence-based improvement, education, and advocacy of emergency and disaster health care and disaster risk reduction.
© 2019 WADEM. All rights reserved.
For all enquiries please contact the WADEM Congress 2019 secretariat.


Anaren is developing technologies to improve next generation cell tower communication.
In 1995, Anaren forever changed the microwave component industry with the first ever surface mount 3dB couplers, featuring our revolutionary multi-layer design approach. The Xinger-brand components caught on spectacularly, inspiring us to successfully transplant the approach to everything from power dividers and baluns, to delay lines, to balun transformers, and RF crossovers. Since then, we have introduced three new generations of the Xinger family of passive components that have continued the tradition of innovation, and affording wireless system designers an array of smaller, performance-enhanced components.
Our Xinger components only scratched the surface of our capabilities for telecommunications applications. As a supplier of high-tech components and solutions, we offer a wide range of products to meet your needs throughout the industry, from our Xinger-brand passive components to numerous resistive products including high-power terminations and attenuators, high-frequency resistors / terminations, high-power ceramic RF resistors, and many more.
Anaren is a worldwide leader in providing components for infrastructure and mobile and stationary consumer applications, leveraging over 50 years of RF and microwave experience for wireless solutions. Our products and patented technologies offer the flexibility of being highly reliable yet easily integrated into a variety of applications, working in broad RF ranges, supporting all cellular industry standards, and providing the most compact performance-to-size ratio in the industry.
Anaren manufactures a range of passive components used extensively in cellular base stations and tower mounted hardware. These products are critical signal path products that allow our customers the highest levels of performance while keeping their costs down. Anaren products are applicable for use in all cellular infrastructure applications from the smallest range, highest density distributed antenna systems, to the largest and longest range solutions, known as Macrocells. Our components also support a wide array of bands and protocols and every standard in the cellular industry, including WiMax, Wi-Fi, LTE, GSM, GPS, Bluetooth, CC2530, 3G, 4G, RFID, PCS and DCS. We are also gearing up with portfolio extensions to meet the demands of the emerging 5G space, both above and below 6GHz.
Anaren provides a wide selection of passive components, active RF modules, and optical fiber component packaging solutions for industrial communications, designed to support applications in manufacturing, energy, health, and safety. Our products have applications in workflow integration, and are constantly innovated for up-and-coming RF uses, including RF heating, cooling, drying, lighting, monitoring, and detection.
Anaren supports and provides active and passive products in a wide variety of commercial applications. From Wi-Fi differential input baluns used in brand name manufacturer products to SMT components used in conjunction with market leading RF integrated circuits from the likes of: Texas Instruments, Nordic Semiconductors, Cypress Semiconductors and more. Anaren components are used in every communications application you can imagine.
Tiny components offering immense potential.
Explore the series of Anaren's telecommunications multimedia content, including demonstration videos, product application note downloads, and more.


Other communities in Lenawee County besides Adrian have had water-related problems in the past year or so. Some have been similar to Adrian's problems with taste and odor, while others infrastructure or other quality issues.
ADRIAN — Other communities in Lenawee County besides Adrian have had water-related problems in the past year or so. Some have been similar to Adrian's problems with taste and odor, while others infrastructure or other quality issues.
Addison's water supply has been a topic of concern among residents since January 2018. A fire at the Next Specialty Resins plastics recycling factory required thousands of gallons of water to extinguish, which drained most of the village's water tower and stirred up sediment throughout the entire system.
For several months, residents complained of rust-colored water that clogged filtration systems and discolored laundry and water-processing appliances. While the water-rust issue has been largely resolved, one resident reports she is still getting yellow water with sediment coming out of her faucets. In November, Addison residents also received a report that routine testing earlier in the year showed an elevated level of arsenic in the water. The problem was traced to a bypass valve that was not closed following the replacement of a water filter.
During routine water tests in March, the village water's arsenic level was 15 parts per billion, above the maximum recommendation of 10 ppb. A letter from the MDEQ in November stated the elevated level of arsenic was not an immediate risk, and if it had been, residents would have been informed immediately. Addison's village water system was built in 1953.
"Citizens brought to us taste and odor complaints," Wonacott said of the village water, which is drawn from the River Raisin.
Blissfield and Deerfield, both downstream from Lake Adrian, get their drinking water from the River Raisin.
After the water was treated with potassium permanganate, the issue went away, Wonacott said.
"Our water doesn't have a chance to get stagnant because it's always moving," Wonacott said. The village's water plant was built in 1929.
While the water quality in Onsted has reportedly been fine, the village has had four water main breaks since January, each prompting boil-water advisories until the affected portions of the network had been cleared.


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At St Augustine of Canterbury, the teaching of history inspires curiosity about the past and how it has shaped the world in which we live today. We aim to help our children to think like historians by asking perceptive questions, thinking analytically and evaluating evidence to develop perspective and informed judgements.
At St Augustine of Canterbury, we believe that the teaching of Geography inspires a curiosity and fascination about the world and its people that will remain with pupils for the rest of their lives. We aim to equip pupils with knowledge about diverse places, people, resources and natural and human environments, together with a deep understanding of the Earth's key physical and human processes.
History Subject Lead – Mr. M. Finlay
Geography Policy 2022- 2023
History Policy 2022- 2023
Subject Overview Humanities 2022 2023 Cycle 1


delivers exceptional chart quality within a user-friendly software interface.
The CE approved Paragon Acquisition System delivers medical grade data acquisition in a sleek and modern package. Outstanding tracings begin at the connector and we have chosen premium Lemo connectors for all nine inputs. The Paragon is the pinnacle of biomedical instrumentation.
The DataPac_USB is our first-generation polygraph instrument built to medical grade standards. With its durable connectors, it has stood the test of time and continues to serve as a modern and reliable solution for today's professional examiner.
The exclusive Movement Monitoring System is the only smart solution that has been designed to empower polygraph examiners against examinee countermeasure attempts. Our MMS is the ONLY system that not only allows polygraph examiners to recognize when a movement has occurred, but to also notify examiners where the movement originated from. This five channel, high resolution instrument, can identify movements from up to five locations at all times and combines them into a single channel for ideal chart display.
The Limestone Technologies Functionality Check Utility is used to confirm proper operation of all Limestone polygraph transducers. We've simplified routine checks with our easy to follow step by step software and compatible Functionality Check Board. The functionality check concludes with a comprehensive report that includes the date and time, instrument serial number and detailed description transducer performance during the evaluation.
Limestone Technologies offers two styles of polygraph examination chairs to accommodate all testing requirements. Our newly designed portable polygraph chair offers a practical solution for mobile testing while our stationary polygraph chair is a robust seating solution for any polygraph suite.
The Paragon Silver Package is designed for the professional examiner who already has a suitable computer system but requires data acquisition software and physiological hardware.
TThe DataPac_USB Silver Package is designed for the professional examiner who already has a suitable computer system but requires data acquisition software and physiological hardware.
We offer a complete range of polygraph accessories for use with the DataPac_USB, Paragon Acquisition System and Movement Monitoring System.


text:
Alor Island ARD
All scheduled direct (non-stop) flights from Alor Island (ARD)
Alor Island (ARD) is a smaller airport in Indonesia. The one and only destination from here is KOE with Wings Air where you can fly 7 days a week.
Found {{ destCount }} routes with direct flights from Alor Island
Alor Island (ARD)
Most popular destinations from Alor Island (ARD)
El Tari62 flights scheduled next month
Biggest airlines from Alor Island (ARD)
Top aircraft types from Alor Island (ARD)
How many airports are there in Alor Island?
There are only 1 airport in Alor Island: Alor Island Airport (ARD).
What is the best airport to use when flyting from Alor Island?
The most convenient airport to fly from Alor Island is Alor Island Airport (ARD).
How many airlines are flying from Alor Island Alor Island (ARD)?
There are 1 airlines flying from Alor Island to 2 airports around the world, as of January 2023.
Which airlines are flying from Alor Island?
There is currently one airline with flights from Alor Island, Wings Air.
What is the airport in Alor Island (ARD) called?
The name of the airport in Alor Island (ARD) airport is Alor Island (ARD).
What is the airport code of Alor Island airport?
The airport code of Alor Island airport is ARD.
Alor Island
Flights from Alor Island (ARD)


text:
jqueryTranslator is a jQuery plugin which allows developers to translate a static web site easily.

1.   It first loads asynchronously the translation files you supply to the plugin. It can be a string or an array of them.

1.   Then, it translates the element based on the user's browser language. The plugin is able to translate the text of the element or change attributes, or even both!

1.   Finally, if you supply a callback, it will be executed over every element to be translated.

Now you can see a [demo](http://belelros.github.com/jqueryTranslator/).

## Usage & Documentation

Just include one of the plugin files in your file.

### Use the "data-translate" attribute on DOM elements you want to be translated

```html
    <h1 data-translate="hello"> Hello! </h1>
    <img data-translate="img" alt="This is an image!" src="someimage.jpg" />
```

The "hello" and "img" words serve as sort of key so it's easier to locate the translation.

### Create a JSON language file with the translations:

index-es.json:

```javascript
    {
      "hello": "Hola!"
      "img" : "Esto es una imagen!"
    }
```

### Call the plugin!

    $("[data-translate]").jqTranslate('index');

## In-depth explanation and Documentation

The first argument the plugin receives, is the package that it has to load. You may have different packs for different parts of the website (header, dialogs, etc);

You can load more than one package like this:

```javascript
    $("[data-translate]").jqTranslate(['index', 'header', 'footer']);
```

If the language of the user's browser is "es", the plugin will try to load:

* index-es.json
* header-es.json
* footer-es.json

If the language also has a country code, like "es-MX", the plugin will ALSO try to load the following:

* index-es-MX.json
* header-es-MX.json
* footer-es-MX.json

This can provide you more customization for different regions. Unfortunately, most of current browsers (desktop) only have the language portion though mobile ones use to have both.

### Options

An object containing parameters. Please, note that all parameters are optional.

> **asyncLangLoad** (*boolean*): Whether if the language should be loaded asynchronously or syncrhonously. **Default**: *true* (*asynchronously*)

> **cache** (*boolean*): Whether if the language packages should be cached or not. **Default**: *true*

> **defaultLang** (*string*): The default language of the Application, this language won't be loaded. **Default**: *null*

> **fallbackLang** (*string*): String that sets a fallback language to load in case it can't load the user language. **Default**: *null*

> **forceLang** (*string*): String that forces the language for the script, forgetting the user's language. **Default**: *null*

> **path** (*string*): This is the default path of the translation files. Useful if you want to locate your files in a separated folder. **Default**: *null*

> **onComplete** (*function*): Callback function triggered when a DOM element has been translated. *this* will point to the element.**Default**: *null*

> **skip**	(*array of strings*):  An array containing all the languages you want to avoid the translation. **Default**: *empty array*

### Advanced

Here are some advanced tricks you can use and some extra info.

First, let's see how the plugin reacts to the elements:

>  **input** : It first checks if it's a **placeholder** and, if it is, it translates it. If it doesn't it will change the input value to one supplied.

>  **optgroup** : Get their **label** attribute translated

>  **img** : Get their **alt** attribute translated

>  *default* : Get their HTML replaced.

#### Changing multiple attributes for each element

If the key for a given value contains nested values, it will try change them all. Please, have in mind that **you** are responsible of supplying the correct attributes. For example:

index-es.json:

```javascript
    {
      "hello": "Hola!"
      "img" : {
      	"text" : "Esto es una imagen!",
      	"src" : "linktootherimage.jpg"
      }
    }
```

The *text* attribute will replace the normal behaviour and will follow the aforementioned rules to translate the element. The remaining attributes will be directly changed on the element.

## FAQ

### How can I translate my jQuery Mobile application?

#### Using jQuery Mobile 1.1 and further

```javascript
$(document).on('pagecreate','#home',function(event){
      $("[data-translate]").jqTranslate('index', { asyncLangLoad: false });
});
```
#### Pre jQM 1.1

```javascript
$('#home').live('pagecreate',function(event){
      $("[data-translate]").jqTranslate('index', { asyncLangLoad: false });
});
```

Where #home is the ID of the page.

Also, have in mind that you may need to refresh the page element in order to be displayed correctly. Please, head to the [jQuery Mobile documentation](http://jquerymobile.com/demos/1.1.0/index.html) to have more info about those methods.

### My page isn't being translated!

The most common cause of this, is because the JSON package isn't valid. To check it, please use some kind of validation service such as JSONLint.

## Contributing

You are invited to contribute code and make suggestions to this project. If you're interested in contributing, please fork the repository, make your changes, and send a pull-request.

Also, consider submitting your own's language localization and I'll include them in the demo page!

Learn more about [how to fork](http://help.github.com/fork-a-repo/) and
[pull-requests](http://help.github.com/pull-requests/).

## Credits & Licensing

Dual licensed under the GPL (http://dev.jquery.com/browser/trunk/jquery/GPL-LICENSE.txt) and MIT (http://dev.jquery.com/browser/trunk/jquery/MIT-LICENSE.txt) licenses.

Written by Antonio Laguna (@Belelros)
Please use it, and contribute changes.

Based on Jim Garvin's Localisation jQuery plugin.
https://github.com/coderifous/jquery-localize

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Christians are called to serve others through the virtue of Jesus' example, and although most pay heed to that mandate to some greater or lesser degree, few are faced with the call to offer a physical piece of themselves. Fewer still heed that call.
Such decisions also do not typically happen in a heartbeat. There's no transplant surgeon waiting in scrubs for a decision, with the recipient all prepped and sedated. They often happen like so many other decisions that, from a distance, look like leaps of faith: step by step.
Amanda (right) and Noel share a lighthearted moment before surgery. Photo courtesy of Amanda Sentz. Photo #09-1290.
Florida State University senior Amanda Sentz is one who knows about such decisions. Approximately a year ago she decided to offer one of her kidneys to a classmate, a woman she'd known for two years through her involvement with the Wesley Foundation campus ministry at Florida State University in Tallahassee. Or rather, she took the first step toward what would eventually be a kidney donation.
The need also didn't emerge overnight. Second-year graduate student Noel Hutchinson had been diagnosed three years ago with the same condition that resulted in a kidney transplant for her brother, donated by their mother, some seven years previously: a rare, recessive genetic disorder that causes the slow breakdown of the kidney filtering system, leading to end-stage renal failure.
The situation had been a periodic topic of concern and prayer within the FSU Wesley congregation of students as Noel's condition became more pronounced, most prominently in terms of fatigue. Amanda had Noel as a group leader during her freshman year, and so she had always known of the illness. The Rev. Vance Rains, pastor at the Wesley Foundation, recalls Noel's efforts to manage the condition through diet and medication and that by June 2008 the need for a transplant had become clear.
Amanda had known she was the same blood type since overhearing that Noel, too, was A-positive, a fact she tucked away in her mind. Three potential donors emerged from among family and friends and one by one were disqualified due to variations in blood type and age. Cross-type transplants do occur, but are generally less successful. Younger kidneys make better transplants. Amanda decided to speak up.
Noel certainly will never forget the moment.
Amanda's parents, too, might have opted for "surreal" in describing the situation. Many parents take great pride in seeing their children perform acts of service, but most draw the line at choices that involve health risks. The Sentzes struggled to support Amanda, a reaction that was difficult for a daughter who always felt complete support in all endeavors. She felt their love, however, and recognized that they, too, would need to process this little by little.
The transplant occurred in May. Amanda spent a week in the hospital and another week or two recuperating before she was back to her regular routine. She needs to avoid contact sports — no problem, she says — and certain medications, and she has a few minor souvenir incisions, but she's doing as well as she ever has. Noel's journey since the operation has been a little rockier, including a hospitalization for treatment of persistent fever. She feels she's past these hurdles, however, and is ready for the start of the upcoming semester.
**Macke is a freelance writer based in Vero Beach, Fla.


All done for another year. The weekend began Friday evening with members arriving from all over the country into Dromineer, Co. Tipperary. Some initial setting up of the Mobile Command Post was done before adjourning to a local hostelry for dinner and chat.
Saturday was a mixture of high level strategy followed by more practical activities, a great win over France by the Irish Rugby team, and a discussion on the merits of Digital Mobile Radio for Public Service use.
Sunday looked at formal message handling techniques and their role in the context of the Framework for Emergency Management in Ireland.
Many thanks to all who offered support and made the weekend happen.


text:
Q: consul not joining wan advertised wan nodes On my Datacenter A: I am advertizing wan ip of a node(10.8.0.1) inside vpn using consul config as show below:
{
"node_name": "rockpi-primary-server",
"bind_addr": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"eth0\"}}",
"ui": true,
"client_addr": "0.0.0.0",
"data_dir": "/tmp/consul",
"datacenter": "lon",
"log_level": "INFO",
"enable_syslog": true,
"enable_debug": true,
"server": true,
"bootstrap_expect": 1,
"leave_on_terminate": false,
"skip_leave_on_interrupt": true,
"rejoin_after_leave": true,
"advertise_addr": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"eth0\"}}",
"advertise_addr_wan": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"tun0\"}}",
"retry_join_wan": ["10.8.0.6"],
"retry_join": [
  "192.168.5.128",
  "192.168.5.166"
  ]
}

and in Datacenter B I have consul node (10.8.0.6) running with below config:
{
"node_name": "phl-remote-server",
"bind_addr": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"eth0\"}}",
"ui": true,
"client_addr": "0.0.0.0",
"data_dir": "/tmp/consul",
"datacenter": "phl",
"log_level": "INFO",
"enable_syslog": true,
"enable_debug": true,
"server": true,
"bootstrap_expect": 1,
"leave_on_terminate": false,
"skip_leave_on_interrupt": true,
"rejoin_after_leave": true,
"advertise_addr": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"eth0\"}}",
"advertise_addr_wan": "{{GetInterfaceIP \"tun0\"}}",
"retry_join_wan": ["10.8.0.1"]
}

but while monitoring datacenter A consul node I spotted this error:
2020-12-04T05:08:27.495+0530 [WARN]  agent: (WAN) couldn't join: number_of_nodes=0 error="1 error occurred:
    * Failed to join 10.8.0.1: dial tcp 10.8.0.1:8302: connect: connection refused

"

and similar for consul node on datacenter B
2020-12-03T23:34:19.548Z [WARN]  agent: (WAN) couldn't join: number_of_nodes=0 error="1 error occurred:
    * Failed to join 10.8.0.6: dial tcp 10.8.0.6:8302: connect: connection refused

"

what is wrong here ?
tun0 advertises vpn ip address of both the nodes. and firewall is node blocking

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


Here you find all of our receiver batteries.
Any nitro or fuel RC car needs a receiver battery to power the throttle and steering servos. There is a huge variety of different receiver packs available to fit different car models, as some demand hump packs, others straight batteries. When you buy a receiver pack, make sure to check measurements to make sure it fits your car.
Receiver batteries are available as NiMh, Lipo and LiFe batteries, and all of these are available here from Arrowmax, Fastrax, Gens Ace, Reedy, TeamC, Traxxas, Vampire, Voltz.


text:
Between the Lines: the 90s British policier that trumps Line of Duty
Before there was Line of Duty, there was the BBC's great early 1990s series Between the Lines, the hard-nosed, realist police drama starring Neil Pearson as a police anti-corruption officer.
By Robert Hanks
Between the Lines (1992-94)
▶ Between the Lines has been screening on BBC iPlayer (some episodes still available)
You may have been aware of a kerfuffle in the press and on social media a few weeks ago about an interview the television scriptwriter Jed Mercurio gave to GQ magazine in the run-up to the broadcast on BBC1 of the sixth series of his police corruption drama Line of Duty (2012-). Mercurio used language you wouldn't want your mother to hear you using to describe a (young, female) journalist who had had the nerve to express disappointment in the programme's fifth series.
His crossness might better have been directed at many of his dedicated fans: what I've noticed in reactions to recent series is the rise of an ironic, meta tone, treating the series as an endlessly comic, teasing challenge to viewers' credulity – the oohs and aaahs at the latest scarcely plausible revelation mingling with oohs and aahs at the stodgy sexiness of Adrian Dunbar's Superintendent Ted Hastings, with his hushed catchphrase "Mother of God!"
A show that started out as gripping, dark and surprising drama is being undermined by a discourse bewilderingly close in tone to online discussions of the BBC's long-running agricultural radio soap The Archers. Pigs either way, I suppose.
Those fans do have a point: until the most recent episodes included mentions and echoes of actual crimes – Jimmy Savile, the murders of Jill Dando and Stephen Lawrence – Line of Duty had remained an almost perfectly self-contained system, with no reference to the real world. The contrast is strong with its predecessor from the early 1990s, Between the Lines, the first series of which the BBC has been broadcasting on Sunday evenings following episodes of Line of Duty – episodes are still available on iPlayer.
Siobhan Redmond, Neil Pearson and Tom Georgeson in Between the Lines
J.C. Wilsher's drama followed a team of detectives in the Complaints Investigation Bureau (CIB) – a real-life unit, unlike Line of Duty's fictional AC-12 – investigating a range of police malpractice: the kind of big crime, big money corruption that is the meat of Line of Duty, but also much pettier corruption (beat coppers emptying the wallets of Saturday night drunks), assaults, shootings, sexual harassment, suicides in custody, unnecessary roughness with striking workers… a different issue each episode, though a narrative thread about an unsafe conviction runs through the first series, effectively taking over the action towards the end.
Between the Lines is (to begin with, at least) a hard-nosed, realist police drama in what was once a strong BBC tradition, running from the original Z Cars (1962-78) through G.F. Newman's Law and Order (1978); and because it tries to reflect reality, it is consistently political. Though there are occasional eureka moments and surprising twists, more often the puzzle is not whodunnit but how you turn whodunnit into a decent court case and secure a conviction.
Detective Superintendent Tony Clark (Neil Pearson) and his team are constantly navigating the conflicting demands of duty to the public, loyalty to colleagues, self-promotion, self-preservation and public image.
Real-world politics intrude all the time. The episode about the police rolling drunks turns out to be in part about the miners' strike of 1984-85 – for mining communities a period of strife and poverty, for coppers a golden age of almost unlimited overtime, as units were bused up north or west to Wales to police picket lines; post-strike, a little light robbery is one way of making up the shortfall. (This was one of several episodes directed by the great Roy Battersby, whose CV includes the 1974 Play for Today Leeds – United!, about a textile workers' strike.)
Racism is always an issue – the treatment blunt-edged by contemporary, Small Axe standards, but frank and forward-looking for the time. Episode 11, Nothing Personal, which revolves around the death in custody of a young Black man arrested for dealing crack, anticipates in many ways the murder of Stephen Lawrence, which took place six months after this was broadcast. Though details are now dated – throughout, the absence of mobile phones marks this out as a different era – the arguments about what was not yet called 'institutional racism' haven't much changed.
The policing and politics are leavened with sex and domestic dramas, with Clark's inability to keep it in his trousers a major plot motor. As the charming, occasionally smarmy, cunning, self-destructive Clark, Pearson is superb – just enough of a hero for the audience to be on his side, but never quite untrustworthy: "You look bent," as his boss Chief Superintendent Deakin (Tony Doyle), tells him, and it is a compliment as well as a gibe.
Pearson was the star and became, despite the estate agent's box-shouldered suits and flapping trousers, quite the sex symbol. But it's an ensemble drama: Tom Georgeson is extraordinarily watchable as his right-hand man, Detective Inspector Harry Naylor, an old-school tough, streetwise cockney copper, the kind other policemen trust, though he has an unexpectedly soft side and, underneath the ducking and diving, a strong moral compass.
Neil Pearson as Tony Clark in Between the Lines
The real emotional power comes from Siobhan Redmond's sarcastic, sexually flexible Detective Sergeant Maureen 'Mo' Connell. Redmond's eyes offer a silent commentary on the men around her – exasperated, amused, disgusted, haunted.
In Manslaughter, the second episode of the second series, she rages at the advantages the legal system gives to men who kill women, in this case, an officer who has killed his wife in what he assures them was a dreadful moment of rage. It becomes clear that the crime was premeditated, but also that there will not be the evidence to charge him: Redmond's scream of raw anguish is a wrenching piece of acting, reaching towards the heights of Peter Lorre's plea for mercy at the end of M (1931).
That second series lacks a little of the momentum of the first – it feels as though they didn't save up enough issues. The third, with Clark and co out of the Met and operating as private agents in the world of the secret services, went off the rails, realistic dinginess giving way to a befuddling murkiness and a lurch in the direction of melodrama. But even here, the show remained committed to a vision of police and intelligence work as essentially and unavoidably political, never mere entertainment.
Frustratingly, the DVD box-sets issued a few years ago are more or less unobtainable, with frightening prices being asked on eBay; but perhaps the BBC will put the whole series on BritBox soon. After a lousy year, we deserve it.
Play for Today: the TV series at the heart of 1970s British filmmaking
British TV drama versus the world
The Singing Detective: 25 years on
By Graham Fuller
Safe harbour: David Hare on Turks & Caicos
Bloodlands dredges up Northern Ireland's troubled past
By Trevor Johnston
"These are the untold stories that make up our nation": Steve McQueen on Small Axe
By David Olusoga


text:
Racism and Resistance among the Filipino Diaspora
Everyday Anti-racism in Australia
Kristine Aquino
Published March 31, 2021 by Routledge
Published September 1, 2017 by Routledge
Racism and Resistance among the Filipino Diaspora: Everyday Anti-racism in Australia
Filipino migrants constitute one of the largest global diasporas today. In Australia, Filipino settlement is markedly framed by the country's on-going nation-building project that continues to racialise immigrants and delineate the possibilities and limits of belonging to the national community.
This book explores the ways in which Filipino migrants in Australia experience, understand and negotiate racism in their everyday lives. In particular, it explores the notion of everyday anti-racism – the strategies individuals deploy to manage racism in their day to day lives. Through case studies based on extensive fieldwork the author shares ethnographic observation and interview material that demonstrate the ways in which Filipinos are racially constituted in Australian society and are subject to everyday racisms that criss-cross different modes of power and domination. Drawing on theoretical approaches in critical race scholarship and the sociology of everyday life, this book illuminates the operation of racism in a multicultural society that persists insidiously in exchanges across a range of public and private spaces. More importantly, it explores the quotidian ways in which 'victims' of racism cope with routine racialised domination, an area underdeveloped in anti-racism research that has tended to focus on institutional anti-racism politics.
Shedding light on a neglected corner of the global Filipino diaspora and highlighting the complexity of lived experiences in translocal and transnational social fields, this book will be of interest to academics in the field of diaspora and migration studies, the study of race and racism and ethnic minorities, with particular reference to the Asian diaspora.
2. Histories of the 'Filipino' in Australia and beyond
3. Coping with honorary whiteness: Aspirant middle class Filipino migrants
4. Reclaiming rights, morality and esteem: The dignity of working class Filipino migrants
5. 'Mail Order Bride' or loving wife? Revisiting the experience of Filipina 'marriage migrants'
6. More than a game: Embodied resistance among young Filipino-Australian street ballers
Kristine Aquino is Lecturer in Global Studies at the University of Technology Sydney, Australia. Her research interests are in the study of global migration, transnationalism, race and ethnicity, and everyday multiculturalism in urban life.
Routledge Series on Asian Migration
Asian Culture & Society
Asian Diaspora
Asia Pacific Studies
South East Asian Studies
South East Asian Culture & Society
Gender Studies - Soc Sci
Asian Studies - Race & Ethnics
History of Race & Ethnicity
Theories of Race & Ethnicity
Asian Studies (General)


Sexual Girls in Melun who can do Tantric, are only on EUGISES.EU. To invite lesbian is very simple. Just call her. Now in this region the most popular baby - Old Julia. ) 432. The next day, she came round and thanked me, inviting me back anytime I liked.


Home Wedding Guests	What to Include in our Wedding Welcome Bags?
A lot of folks from my family's side will be coming to Washington, DC from out of town and staying in hotels, so I really like the idea of a welcome bag to be waiting for them at the hotel room when they arrive. I think it's a nice way to demonstrate our appreciation for traveling to celebrate our wedding day.
But, I've been trying to figure out what to include in it. Here are some initial thoughts.
Road Map of Metropolitan DC Area – I can get these free from the local AAA office since I'm a member. I realize road maps are a bit old-fashioned at this point, but it's a nice touch!
Lots of brochures (DC, Northern Virginia, etc.) – These would be free from the local tourism offices.
List of contact information in case they get lost on the way to the wedding. I'm not sure who's contact information I would provide though.
A reminder of the wedding day events and start time!
A highlights page, pointing out some things they may want to check out in the DC area, going beyond the basics of the National Mall, including pointing out lesser-known areas they may want to visit, such as Old Town Alexandria, Mt. Vernon, etc.
Some sort of welcome snack, TBD. Maybe a small baggie of variety snack-size candy bars, a small bag of chips, and an apple or orange. I realize there are a lot of "local" type candies you can buy, but I don't want to spend that much. For instance, there are candies in the shape of like the White House and Washington Monument, but they're close to $4.00 each! Although I do feel a little bad saying that considering the fact that the guests have to spend money to get to the wedding.
And then we would need just a plain canvas bag to put everything in. Most of the items would be fee, but I'd have to figure out the average per-bag cost if we included some candy, fruit, and bottled water, plus the cost of folders and cardstock.
I think you have a pretty good list of goodies. And I also thank you for putting the welcome bag into perspective. I've seen so many that include expensive stuff so I honestly just nixed the whole idea. I didn't even think of the simple things, like a map and list of things to see.
We have a decent amount of guests coming from out of town too, but at our last check almost no one had booked a room at the hotel we blocked off. We had 5 booked and I think most of them were my friends. I guess that would make the whole project easier since I'm not running around to every hotel on Long Island to drop these things off for people. With two weeks left, I might have to just add it to the "Things I should have done" list, but thanks for the advice!
Yes!! You can go to your local CVB (Convention and Visitor's Bureau) and get *free* visitor guides, restaurant guides, etc. to include in your welcome bags. They have lots of area maps and some have coupons to sights and attractions. Great that you mentioned that, Melissa!
Instead of a bunch of different snacks, take the pressure off yourself and offer just *one* that represents your area. One bride from the Hampton Roads Virginia area (southern Virginia) had a bottle of water and a bag of Chesapeake Bay Potato Chips (from Lay's I think) in her welcome bags.
To make it more personal, you might include a note to your guests of your favorite sights you and your fiance like to see or places you like to dine. It's great for guests who are new to the area and aren't really sure where to go for dinner.
Have your Wedding Coordinator or a designated person drop off your welcome bags for you the morning of your guests' check-in. Provide them a list of names and he/she can run to the hotel(s) for you. No need for YOU to run around…you'll have enough on your plate!
Great job on your welcome bags!