Fox Narrowboats | £1744.76 donation to March Defibrillators!
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Following another successful fundraising year the staff and customers at Fox Narrowboats have raised £1744.76 for March Defibrillators during their Charity of the Year events. March and the surrounding area has 35 defibrillators following a campaign started by March Councillor Rob Skoulding. The cheque was presented by Fox Narrowboats Finance Director Tracey Baxter who said "I am always astounded at the generosity of the staff and public who support our charity events. March Defibrillators is a worth while organisation and has provided the potential to save so many local lives." Events and activities this year have included a refreshment stall at the company open day, boat trips at March town St George's Fayre, evening boat trips, a second hand book stall and Christmas tombola.
This is the 6th year the company has selected a charity of the year and since the inception has raised a total of over £12,225 for good causes. In 2019 the company will be supporting The Ladybird Boat Trust.
The Ladybird Boat Trust (LBT) was set up in 2013 and is based at Hartford Marina near Huntingdon. The vessel Ladybird is wheelchair accessible and accommodates up to 20 passengers in a large heated cabin complete with kitchen and wheelchair accessible toilet facilities. The open foredeck area enables passengers to enjoy to the full the magnificent scenery and wildlife on the river. The service operates from mid April to early October and is crewed by a Boatmaster and trained crew, all of whom are volunteers who give up their time and skills to run over 100 trips each year. A typical trip is between 10am and 3pm, and is either upstream towards Godmanchester and Brampton, or down to the Hemingfords and St Ives. Trips are open to groups of the disadvantaged or disabled, young or elderly (and their carers) based within reasonable road travel distance from their base on the Great Ouse near Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire. Many groups return year after year and the annual boat trip is a highlight in their year.
Events for 2019 will again included boat trips at the March Town St Georges Fayre.


Since graduation and one year NYSC post, I have working for personal research that will enable me practice my profession and other related field of study. My experience in 3D Dimensional Seismic Operation Project as Field Quality Control, Dredging & Marine Company as Deckhand, Rigger & Crane Operator/Barge Master, Borehole Drilling Company as Quality Control Supervisor, Geo-Drilling Nig. Ltd. as Site Drilling (Casing) Supervisor and in High Tension Tower & Wire Installation Project as Safety Officer. All this have effectively developed my career in the above mentioned and equipped me, for future engagement.
Geology at Anambra State University, Uli.


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My Work Experience at Ruder Finn – Lily Tobin
When it was suggested that I write a blog post about my week at Ruder Finn, I didn't really know where to begin! Although I am not entirely sure what kind of career I would like to pursue, I'm considering studying courses such as international relations or business, or politics and French, when I go
WIRED Health 2019 – The future of Digital Health (Pt. 4)
For the last month, we've been looking into the key themes and topics which are shaping the future of the digital health landscape following WIRED Health 2019. We've already covered how AI will be at the forefront of next generation healthcare, the role sensory technology can play in detecting a wide range of potential health
Mental health awareness week – Combating mental health challenges at work
Many people underestimate how much work has an impact on our lives. We spend 9am to 5pm (for some anyway!), Monday through Friday working, so ensuring that the workplace is a safe and enjoyable environment is crucial. According to research, one in six workers will experience depression, anxiety or problems relating to stress at any
After attending WIRED Health 2019, two senior members of the Ruder Finn team, Leah Peyton, Director on our healthcare Team, and Tracey Bowditch, Senior Account Director from our technology team, have shared their thoughts on the key themes and topics from the conference, which are shaping the future of the digital health landscape. We've already
Following two senior members of the Ruder Finn team, Leah Peyton, Director on our healthcare team, and Tracey Bowditch, Senior Account Director from our technology team, attending WIRED Health 2019 recently, we've diving deeper into the key themes and topics from the conference, which are shaping the future of the digital health landscape. In the
WIRED Health 2019 – The future of Digital Health
Digital health has been gaining increasing traction in the everyday lives of patients around the world. From wearables that can predict strokes, to digital nurses and GPs – it is fair to say that healthcare and technology are more interconnected than ever. In late March, two senior members of the Ruder Finn team, Leah Peyton,
The true potential of 5G technology
After years of hype, 5G is finally becoming a reality. Many have claimed 5G, which is short for 'fifth generation' mobile networks, will be a game-changing technology. It has the capability to boost speed, coverage and responsiveness of wireless networks for connected devices, running between 10 to 100 times faster than the cellular connections available
NHSX: the world's largest digital health sandbox?
Brexit aside, one key area where the British Government has produced policy of note concerns the National Health Service (NHS) and digital health technologies. Last October, Health Secretary Matt Hancock detailed a compelling vision for medtech and digital in the NHS. And, at the end of February, a new NHS organisation, NHSX, was launched, with
Ruder Finn appoints Healthcare lead to accelerate agency growth
– Neil McGregor-Paterson tasked with expanding team and increasing diversity of client services – London, 28 Feb 2019: Ruder Finn, a leading global communications agency, has hired Neil McGregor-Paterson as Head of Healthcare for their European hub in London. Reporting to Managing Director, Nick Leonard, he is tasked with building on the strong growth within the
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No – it's a lifesaving drone!
Drones are nothing new. They may not have been part of our daily lives – unless you're in the military – but it is becoming more common place to hear about them in the news and the cunning new ways they are trying to infiltrate into society… and not just hover over it. Your initial

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El mètode d'exhaustió és un mètode per a trobar l'àrea d'una superfície plana limitada per una corba a base d'inscriure-li una successió de polígons les àrees dels quals convergeixen cap a l'àrea de la superfície que els conté. Si la successió es construeix correctament, la diferència en àrea entre el polígon n-èsim i la superfície que el conté esdevindrà arbitràriament petita a mesura que n esdevé gran. Com que aquesta diferència esdevé arbitràriament petita, els valors possibles per a l'àrea de la superfície són sistemàticament "exhaurits" per les fites inferiors que queden establertes pels membres de la successió. La idea original va ser d'Antifont, tot i que no està del tot clar fins a quin punt la va entendre. Èudox de Cnidos és qui va plantejar la teoria de forma rigorosa. El primer que va utilitzar l'expressió "mètode d'exhaustió" va ser Grégoire de Saint-Vincent a Opus geometricum guadraturae circuli et sectionum coni el 1647.

El mètode d'exhaustió s'ha vist com un precursor dels mètodes del càlcul infinitesimal. El desenvolupament de la geometria analítica i del càlcul integral entre els segles XVII i XIX (en particular la definició rigorosa del límit) han susumit el mètode d'exhaustió de forma que actualment no es fa servir de forma explícita per a la resolució de problemes.

Arquímedes va emprar el mètode d'exhaustió com una forma de calcular π a base d'omplir el cercle amb polígons amb un nombre més i més gran de costats. El quocient de l'àrea d'aquests polígons dividida entre el quadrat del radi del cercle esdevé arbitràriament proper al valor real de π a mesura que el nombre de cares del polígon es fa gran.

Altres resultats obtinguts amb el mètode d'exhaustió inclouen

 L'àrea limitada per una recta i una paràbola és 4/3 de la del triangle de la mateixa base i alçada;
 L'àrea d'una el·lipse és proporcional a la del rectangle de cares iguals als eixos de l'el·lipse;
 El volum d'una esfera és 4 cops el del con amb el mateix radi de la base i alçada igual al radi;
 El volum d'un cilindre d'alçada igual al diàmetre és 3/2 del de l'esfera del mateix diàmetre;
 L'àrea limitada per una espiral i un segment recte és 1/3 de la del cercle que té un radi igual a la longitud del segment;
 La utilització del mètode d'exhaustió també va portar (per primer cop) a l'avaluació amb èxit d'una sèrie geomètrica.

Una nova forma del mètode d'exhaustió subministra una fórmula per avaluar una integral definida de qualsevol funció contínua:

Pot ser útil emprar aquesta fórmula quan no existeixen primitives elementals. També pot ser útil en l'ensenyament del càlcul integral.

Referències

Integració numèrica
Geometria euclidiana

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<?xml:namespace prefix = v ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" /><?xml:namespace prefix = w ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" />Mark Nadler makes a witty point in his new cabaret act, "Write Now! (Songs by People Who Aren't Dead)," by choosing contemporary rags as musical bookends in his program of songs by living composers. Ragtime is a style that suits the temperament of this aggressively garrulous singer and pianist, who is appearing at Opia (130 West 57th Street) Thursdays through Sundays through July 31. When ragtime was becoming the rage 100 years ago, he says, people griped about it the same way people later complained about rock 'n' roll and hip-hop replacing "good" music. Yet here it is, one of many flavors on the contemporary menu.
With his blend of musical analysis and hyperbole, Mr. Nadler has something stylistically in common with Robert Kapilow, whose series "What Makes It Great," at Lincoln Center, transforms musicology into entertainment.
But Mr. Nadler is really a modern-day vaudevillian, a compulsive entertainer whose strong performing personality echoes everyone from Bobby Short to Al Jolson.
He is also an expert at building a cabaret act. His rigorously structured show begins with the rag-flavored ballad "Blame It On a Summer Night" (by Charles Strouse and Stephen Schwartz) from the ill-fated Broadway show "Rags," and ends with two wildly upbeat numbers by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens from "Ragtime."
In between he performs songs (many of them obscure) by John Wallowitch, Francesca Blumenthal, Carol Hall, Ervin Drake and others, skillfully interweaving them with show business lore.
Mr. Nadler favors intricate patter songs like "Third Finger Thumb," John Forster's internal monologue of a disgruntled child piano prodigy set to Grieg's Piano Concerto, and "I Kinda Like It Here in France," Joe Kerr's caustically funny assessment of Gallic traits. Mr. Nadler slips only when he applies his bright, brittle style to moody saloon songs. He admits in his show that he has an antipathy to Frank Sinatra. But that does keep him from making the mistake of venturing into the wrong territory.


Charming Destinations wants to send you and your sweetheart on the honeymoon of your dreams! We handpicked the most romantic tropical getaways of Brazil, so that you can celebrate your love and set a perfect beginning to your life together. Bathe in luxury in the 'marvelous city' of Rio de Janeiro. Get pampered in the "Brazilian Saint-Tropez", Buzios, the extravagant coastal resort town.
Let the romance sweep you off your feet on the secluded beach of Trancoso, where your stunning VIP villa awaits. Or delight all of your senses in the barefoot chic Txai resort, where the water is crystal clear and historic canoes glide towards picturesque sunsets.


The work, usually in very small groups, or one-on-one as in this short clip, was fascinating. The children were confronted with very novel stimuli; they learned quickly and created new games with the materials. Here Sorting dot cards Dieula helps me prepare by sorting groups of small dot-cards - she called them "dominos" as that is what they resemble.
Below, Jezilen discovers she can successfully play "bingo" and match 3-letter English words! Her friends were also astonished, as she has never gone to school, didn't want to. But, "pattern recognition," ah, she was very keen at that. Indeed, to be able to detect the color of various Haitian money bills, it is an essential capacity to develop. This task builds on our natural abilities of perception, detection of discrepancy, and patterns. Vwala!
And...there's more. The elation at discovery was something I could document, to my own elation!
Bella understands that letters and words are written here in the New York Times, and she points to them, muttering to her 5 year old self....something.
Ah, Watkliff, a budding engineer! Children had access to these materials and were very creative for hours , if we allowed it. In more structured tasks, they were ask to re-create or copy a pattern by matching shapes to a template.
Being understaffed, it proved advantageous and interesting to train and deploy older adolescents to interact with the young students and the materials. It was hot if not raining, poorly lit unless we had spots by a door. If it rained, well, you could hardly hear yourself think. We pushed on. Whew!


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Dale Wayman (a fellow Arminian blogger) has started a blog about men being real men. It is dedicated to helping men avoid sexual temptation. It can be found here: Iron Strikes. Be sure to check it out, he has some great insights.
I desire to be sexually pure. I want to be faithful to God, to my wife, to my family, to my church, and to folks who read the blog. Here are some disciplines that I have found to help me to flee sexual temptation. These are not hard fast rules, each man is different, but this is what works for me.


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Boeing Brings Value and Jobs to Europe
The Boeing Company forecasts it will spend more than $14 billion over the next five years with European firms - a clear message that business for Boeing means jobs and opportunity for the suppliers and industrial partners it counts as part of its "extended enterprise."
Boeing, the world's largest aerospace company, works with nearly 500 firms in 21 European countries. Work placed within this extensive network supports about 90,000 jobs annually within the region - more than British Aerospace and Rolls Royce combined - which further contributes to the health and vitality of the European Community, national and local economies.
As global competition intensifies, the aerospace industry will be more reliant on each other as companies, countries and people, making the quality, stability and longevity of these relationships extremely important to a company's success, said Dick James, president - Boeing Europe, during a briefing today at the Farnborough Air Show.
"Our work - whether building commercial airplanes or advanced defense and space systems - is complex and tough," James said. "No company has all the resources, talent and answers to do the job itself - including Boeing. We strengthen our operations by working with other companies and people who are the best at what they do."
James said Boeing has redefined over the years the role suppliers play in its operations and has offered them opportunities to share in the company's work through strategic partnerships, risk-sharing, service-provider agreements and industrial-participation programs.
For example, major supplier-partners on the Boeing 717-200, the newest member of the company's commercial airplane family, have a vested interest in the success of the program. Fourteen companies in 10 countries - more than half European - shared design and development tasks, and now are engaged in production. About half of the airplane bears the "Made in Europe" stamp. Parts and components provided by suppliers in the region account for about 40 percent of the total cost of the program, over the life of the program.
On the defense side, the F/A-18 fighter program in Finland and Switzerland is an example of the more than 40 industrial-participation programs the company has created in more than 25 European countries. Firms in both countries are assembling F/A-18 aircraft in-country from kits provided by Boeing. In addition to this industrial-participation program, Boeing has established more than 400 offset projects in 11 of Finland's 12 regions, and 300 projects in 24 of Switzerland's 26 cantons.
James emphasized that firms working with Boeing benefit beyond the direct revenue that doing business with the company represents.
"What Boeing gains is clear: access to the best people and resources in the marketplace," he said. "In return, companies expand their interests through technology transfer; increased market access for their goods, services and intellectual property; and strategic partnerships that help position Boeing and its business allies to take advantage of emerging opportunities."
Currently, Boeing has about 1,000 suppliers outside the United States:
Asia/Pacific 147
The company places work with these companies that is valued at more than $5 billion annually, supporting more than 150,000 jobs each year.


I hope the day starts off wonderful for you. If you are in the cold states...stay warm and if you are where it's warm...I'm so jealous of you right now.
Below is what I'll be reading this week along with Spider's Bite & Slave to Sensation.
Love K. Masters...she just knows how to write a story and I absolutely love this series!
So lovlies what are you reading this week?
ikr...I've been wanting to read this one for a while now *sigh* love me some Master Mark!
waaait isn't this one Adam's story?
haha @ too much wine! smh @ you. go ahead then giirly! lol.
lols...you know I can't see Mark Harmon as his character...but eh "shrugs shoulders* what say you?
I can't...no way. Maybe Hugh Jackman...he's nice looking, I likes him...lols. He is younger though...hmmmm. I have someone in mind, but I swear I can't remember his damn name!
lol okay, cause I can't do Mark Harmon either eeekkk no. lol. oooh whooo? If Adam's character was a brotha, I'd be hands down Denzel Washington ;) lol remembeeeerrr!! lol.
ahhhhhh!!! you killing me. I so love Denzel.....ooooo perfect choice! damn girl you hit it right on the nose...lmbo!
oh now Idirs...gurl buy! I'll take him any day of the week...young or not, lols! oh that accent!


Certified Information Systems Auditor (CISA) is a certification which is issued by the ISACA for the people taking in charge of ensuring that an organization's IT and business systems are monitored, managed and also protected. This certification is a globally recognized standard for appraising an IT auditor's knowledge, expertise, and skill in assessing vulnerabilities and instituting technology controls in an enterprise environment. It is mainly designed for IT auditors, audit managers, consultants and security professionals.
And also 5 domain-wise test papers to prepare you for CISA certification.
Professional information systems auditing control or security.
1 year in information system and a year in non is auditing.
Do not Blindly Memorize and don't forget to write the CISA mock exam.
The CISA certified exam contains 5 domains.


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Q: Why can quorum change when adding new nodes to Cassandra? I doubled the size of our cluster from 3 nodes to 6 nodes. We have RF=3. Also this is Datastax Enterprise 4.8.0 cqlsh 5.0.1 | Cassandra 2.1.9.791 | DSE 4.8.0 | CQL spec 3.2.0 | Native protocol v3
I'm rebalancing the cluster and now we're seeing some weird errors from our application:
ERROR: core.RequestProcessor.logRequest()    Could not log request 4d96f06a-b465-4608-904f-2014a271d507 for brand 5954: com.datastax.driver.core.exceptions.WriteTimeoutException: Cassandra timeout during write query at consistency QUORUM (3 replica were required but only 2 acknowledged the write)
How can 3 replica be required when RF=3? Shouldn't quorum be 2? Also, disk usage has really ballooned on the nodes. Is this expected?

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Q: Stability of real polynomials with positive coefficients Say that a polynomial in an indeterminate $x$ with real coefficients of degree $d$ has positive coefficients if each of the coefficients of $x^d,\ldots,x^1,x^0$ is (strictly) positive.
For $f$ a monic univariate polynomial with real coefficients, if there exists a positive integer $m_0$ such that its $m_0$th power $f^{m_0}$ has positive coefficients, then does there exist a positive integer $m_1$ such that for each positive integer $m$ at least $m_1$, the $m$th power $f^m$ has positive coefficients?

A: Yes. This is a part of my answer to another MO question,
Zeros of polynomials with real positive coefficients,
@David Handelman: thanks for the reference! I will insert it to my paper.
EDIT. In fact, Theorem 1 in the preprint cited above is not new. This was found as a
result of David's answer. The revised preprint is posted on the arxiv and here
http://www.math.purdue.edu/~eremenko/dvi/saddle13.pdf

A: Yes. For nonnegative (as opposed to strictly positive) coefficients,  a more general result is available (in several variables). See the article by me on powers of polynomials in Symbolic Dynamics and Its Applications (Editors, Adler and Walters, AMS 1992 (unfortunately, I can't find a link to it) [I have three articles there]. In several variables, the formulation is, if $P$ is a polynomial such that $P(1,1,\dots,1)> 0$, and there exists $m$ such that $P^m$ has only nonnegative coefficients, then for all sufficiently large $M$, $P^M$ has only nonnegative coefficients.
In one variable, the strict positivity condition you require can also be dealt with from this, but is a nonstarter in more than two variables. Note that if the second largest or the second smallest degree monomial has zero coefficient, then that persists in all powers, so no power of such poly in one variable can be strictly positive in your sense. However, the answer to your question is yes, because the gaps will eventually fill in ... (this requires a little, but not much, work).
Edit: Here is the reference (found, finally, in Zentralblatt): Handelman, David,
Polynomials with a positive power.  (Zbl 0794.26013)
Symbolic dynamics and its applications, Proc. AMS Conf. in honor of R. L. Adler, New Haven/CT (USA) 1991, Contemp. Math. 135, 229-230 (1992).
[For the entire collection see Zbl 0755.00019.]


Tower Hamlets council is committed to working in partnership with statutory and community organisations to prevent domestic violence and reduce the harm it causes to individuals, families and the community as a whole.
We cannot do this alone and we encourage those who support our aims to sign our Domestic Abuse Pledge.
Tower Hamlets' Domestic Abuse Pledge was launched on November 25, 2013 to coincide with the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. This marks the beginning of 16 Days of Action, the international campaign against gender violence.
The launching of the pledge also coincides with White Ribbon Week, a national campaign to encourage people to wear a white ribbon. The ribbon is a symbol of non-violence and the wearer makes a promise to not condone, ignore or tolerate abuse against women.
By signing our pledge you can show that you do not wish to let victims suffer in silence and that Tower Hamlets is a safe place for those experiencing domestic violence.
We hope that you will support the work that we are doing to try and prevent domestic abuse and support any victims experiencing abuse.


I was just messing around with a binary system, and it then merged into a weird something?
Also I was about to spawn an earth like planet to recreate some sci-fi movie with 2 stars but it turned out to be a star.
What you have there is what would be called a contact binary.
Also, I'm very sure that brown dwarfs don't do flares.
US2 was well worth my 25 bucks, baby.
Your Earth-like planet probably turned into a star because the distance from the other star is very close. If the planet was close to the star, the temperature would've been hot enough to turn into a star.
That's not really how stars work. See, a star isn't just a mass of molten silicates. A star is a globe of hydrogen and helium that is so massive that it's own weight crushes it's atoms into each other. This is called Nuclear Fusion.


It pours a deep ruby red. Its powerful aroma of wild cherries, blackberries and plums develops notes of graphite, liquorice, juniper berries and aromatic herbs. The tannic weave, the freshness, the alcohol and sugar are well balanced. This wine to lay down is aged in casks for at least 2 years and in glass for 2 more, improving over time for at least 10 years. It accompanies strong mature cheeses, superior cured meats, grilled meats and game meat.


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The new year kicked off in a good way for Coyote Music. Our #1 most-visited page was our own Submissions page. We have had new artists coming to us to help promote them at a pace higher than ever before in our 17-year history!
Our review of LEL Brothas' The Epidemic was also extremely popular throughout the month, in at #2. The most popular show of the month came in at #3, which was San Antonio's Glambilly hosting Austin's Scorpio Rising for a night of debauchery at The Mix in San Antonio. Catch the same pairing in Austin on February 23rd, when they'll be joined by Houston's Elbodo and DJ Boris at Austin's Metal and Lace (formerly Headhunters).
Our Contact page came in at #4 and the ever-popular video of Stephen Bruton's "Heart of Hearts" video was the 5th most-viewed page of the month.
Two videos for heartfelt songs drew online attention. At #6, songwriter Pia Dean's "Another Maybe" (featuring vocalist Caroline Langford) makes its mark and Adlai Waxman's "Katy (On The Red Line)" stays in our Top 10 at #7.
The Coyote Music Top 10 is rounded out by our Featured Artist, Hey, Gurl, at #8. Our announcement of a fundraiser for John Mayer's drummer, J.J. Johnson is no longer news but is our #9. And a review of Scabsallover's Robotic Lion Snapping Turtle Vol. 2. completes the list at a respectable #10.


Above: Away day at the Nene White Water Rafting Centre. Below: Before (chips), During (AGM) & After (group cuppa) shots of Victoria Centre AGM Presentation.
On Friday 18th September 2015 we had an away day at the Nene White Water Rafting Centre in Northampton.
12 beneficiaries attended and even those with severe anxiety issues took part in the rafting and climbing activities. The event was co-ordinated and put together by Talent Match's Charlotte Seal. The aim was to encourage team work and raise confidence and self esteem.
On Tuesday 22nd September 2015 Talent Match Northamptonshire attended Wellingborough's Victoria Centre Annual General Meeting.
We were asked to be guest speakers in front of the Mayor.
Adel, Michael, Dan gave a presentation about Talent Match and this was followed up with a presentation from beneficiaries; Adam, Emily, Normumds and Ceidleigh. They informed guests about the good work that Talent Match does and how it has help to move them forward into positive destinations.
The young people gave their own personal experience of how the project had helped them gain confidence through one to one and group work sessions, also how the team had helped them to get interviews.
We were all entered into the prize draw, Dan won first prize and the beneficiaries all won VIP passes to a local gym.
All in all, a great night! And the chips were a bonus to stop any tummy rumbles during our presentations.


Select an ecosystem in your area (forest, lake, desert, grassland).
1) Describe the structure of your ecosystem including important abiotic features and dominant plant and animal species.
2) Explain some functions/processes of your ecosystem including one nutrient cycle and one food chain.
3) Give two examples of species interactions (predation, competition, mutualism, etc.) that occur in your ecosystem.
4) Identify an invasive species in your ecosystem. Explain its effects on the ecosystem and efforts to control or eradicate it.


text:
Marcel Dubé  (January 3, 1930 – April 7, 2016) was a Canadian playwright. He produced over 300 works for radio, television, and stage. During his career he promoted the preservation and sanctity of the French language in Quebec.

Early life and education
Dubé studied at Collège Sainte-Marie where he first became interested in theatre, frequenting the school's auditorium, the historic Salle du Gésu. He attended Westminster School during his high school years.

Career
Dubé began writing plays as a young man, including Le Barrage which was staged by Theatre-club in 1955. He was soon able to earn his living as a writer. He founded the group Jeune Scène, and at the Dominion Drama Festival in 1953 won several awards with his play, De l'autre côté du mur which later became Zone. The play is still being performed sixty years later. He was also considered a founder of contemporary Quebec dramaturgy.

Over the next five years Radio-Canada presented, on radio and television, over 30 of his works (many of which he later adapted to the stage). He has produced over 300 works for radio, television and the stage. He wrote mainly in French; some of his works have been translated or subtitled in English.

His concerns for the preservation and sanctity of the French language in Quebec and around the world led him to participate in several organizations: He was first secretary, then president, of the Conseil de la langue française, president of the Rencontres francophones du Québec and cofounder and director of the Sécretariat permanent des peuples francophones.

In February 2001, he was named an Officer of the Order of Canada. and in 1993 became an Officer of the Order of Quebec.

Works
    Zone, Montréal, Éditions de la cascade, Collège Sainte-Marie, (1956), (1968), (1971)
    Le temps des lilas, Québec, Institut littéraire, collection «Théâtre Canadien», (1958), (1969), (1973)
    Un simple soldat, Québec, Institut littéraire, collection «Théâtre Canadien», (1958), (1967), (1980)
    Florence, Québec, Institut littéraire du Québec ltée, (1960), (1970)
    Le Train du Nord, Montréal, Les Éditions du jour, (1961)
    Bilan, Montréal, Leméac, (1968)
    Textes et documents (partie 1), Montréal, Leméac, (1968)
    Les beaux dimanches, Montréal, Leméac, (1968)
    Hold-up, en collaboration avec Louis-Georges Carrier, Montréal, Leméac, (1969)
    Pauvre amour, Montréal, Leméac, (1969)
    Au retour des oies blanches, Montréal, Leméac, (1969)
    Le coup de l'étrier et Avant de t'en aller, Montréal, Leméac, (1970)
    Un matin comme les autres, Montréal, Leméac, (1971)
    Entre midi et soir, Montréal, Leméac, (1971), (1977)
    Le naufragé, Montréal, Leméac, (1971)
    The white geese, Toronto, new press, (1972)
    L'échéance du vendredi suivi de Paradis perdu, Montréal, Leméac, (1972)
    Textes et documents (partie 2), Montréal, Leméac, (1973)
    La cellule, Montréal, Leméac, (1973)
    Jérémie (argument de ballet), Montréal, Leméac, (1973)
    Médée, Montréal, Leméac, (1973)
    De l'autre côté du mur suivi de cinq pièces courtes, Montréal, Leméac, (1973)
    Manuel, Montréal, Leméac, (1974)
    Poèmes de sable, Montréal, Leméac, (1974)
    Virginie, Montréal, Leméac, (1974)
    L'impromptu de Québec ou le testament, Montréal, Leméac, (1974)
    L'été s'appelle Julie, Montréal, Leméac, (1975)
    Dites-le avec des fleurs, en collaboration avec Jean Barbeau, Montréal, Éditions Leméac, (1976)
    Octobre, Montréal, Éditions Leméac, (1977)
    Le réformiste ou l'honneur des hommes, Montréal, Éditions Leméac, (1977)
    Zone (Anglais), Toronto, Playwrights Canada, (1982)
    Le choix de Marcel Dubé dans l'œuvre de Marcel Dubé, Charlesbourg, Presses laurentiennes, (1986)
    L'Amérique à sec, Outremont, Leméac, (1986)
    Jean-Paul Lemieux et le livre, Montréal, Art global, (1988), (1993)
    Andrée Lachapelle : Entre ciel et terre, Montréal, Éditions Mnémosyne, coll. « Portraits d'artistes », (1995)
    Yoko ou le retour à Melbourne, Montréal, Leméac, (2000)
    Marie Labelle : Ottawa, Ontario

Awards and prizes
1953 – Bourse du ministère du Bien-Être et de la Jeunesse
1958 – Bourse Canada Foundation
1959 – Award from the Canada Council
1961 – Member of the Royal Society of Canada
1961 – Membre de l'Académie des lettres du Québec
1962 – Governor General's Award
1966 – Award from the Canada Council
1970 – Bourse du ministère des Affaires culturelles du Québec
1973 – Prix Athanase-David (the highest cultural award granted by the Quebec government at the time)
1984 – Molson Prize, Canada Council
1985 – Membre de l'Ordre des francophones d'Amérique
1985 – Honorary doctorate of letters, Université de Moncton
1986 – Médaille de l'Académie des lettres du Québec
1987 – Médaille de l'Académie canadienne-française
1991 – Chevalier de l'Ordre de Pléiade de l'Assemblée internationale des Parlementaires de la langue française
2001 – Prix Mérite du français dans la culture
2001 – Officer of the Order of Canada
2001 – Officer of the National Order of Quebec
2005 – Governor General's Performing Arts Award
2006 – Prix hommage Québécor

References

External links
 "Marcel Dube". The Canadian Encyclopedia
 Dubé, item at Athabasca University

1930 births
2016 deaths
20th-century Canadian dramatists and playwrights
21st-century Canadian dramatists and playwrights
Officers of the Order of Canada
Writers from Montreal
Prix Athanase-David winners
Canadian dramatists and playwrights in French
Governor General's Performing Arts Award winners
Canadian male dramatists and playwrights
Fellows of the Royal Society of Canada
Officers of the National Order of Quebec
20th-century Canadian male writers
21st-century Canadian male writers


This sweet quilt is easy to make and uses charms or you can cut 5" squares from you stash. Blocks are set on point and by putting triangles on the end of each row, you already have a border on the quilt. No need to struggle with those long borders.


Glen Tate published the 10 book 299 Days series in audio back in 2014. Since that time he's amassed a 4.4 rating over 5,910 reviews. One of Glen's most effective promotion tactics has been by regularly appearing on podcasts related to his specific "prepper" genre. He's here today to share his process for booking guest spots to discuss his books on popular podcasts.
I am not a full-time author. I'm an attorney in Olympia, Washington who happened to sit down and write a ten-book post-apocalyptic fiction series called 299 Days. I was surprised to learn about several aspects of publishing and marketing these books—one of which was the power of podcasts to sell books to niche markets.
Like many ACX authors, I don't have a large marketing budget or a team of people getting me guest spots on media outlets. I have to do it on my own and preferably for free.
In order to understand how podcasts can help audiobook sales, you need to understand that my books appeal to a particular audience: people who wonder what life would be like if normal American society was disrupted. Podcasts are perfectly suited to speak to niche audiences with specific interests. There are tens of thousands of podcasts on everything from bird watching to javelin throwing to 1980s heavy metal bands. As an added bonus, podcast fans are listeners, making them the perfect audience for audiobooks.
Once I realized that podcasts could be a great venue for promoting my audiobooks, I set about figuring out how to connect with various hosts and get booked as a guest. Here's how I did it.
I thought about the podcasts I listen to in my area of interest, and several dozen came to mind. To determine which podcasts I wanted to be on, I looked at my own phone and saw which ones I'd listened to in the last month. I then searched for them in iTunes, which suggested several similar programs. I wrote down a list on a sheet of paper. New podcasts pop up all the time, so I periodically asked readers on my books' Facebook page to tell me which podcasts they listened to, and added them to my master list.
At first I thought it would be hard to get onto a podcast. I was wrong. As I learned, podcasters are dying for content. Almost all podcasts have an email address or a "contact us" web form. I simply told them who I was and included a link to my books on Audible. This is important, because no one wants to listen to someone who talks about "someday" publishing a book.
I started small. No podcast was too small for me. I appeared on podcasts with 200 downloads. But after a while, I was regularly on podcasts with 100,000 or more downloads. Keep in mind that these are downloads from people who are already interested in the narrow topic of your book. It is perhaps the most precisely tailored marketing you can do.
Once I got on a few podcasts, I reached out to additional hosts and sent them links to my previous appearances. This was a great way to assure them that I could string a sentence together and was an interesting guest. This brings up an important point: do you need to be a dazzling speaker and have a great "radio voice" to be on a podcast? Nope. If you can hold a conversation, you can be a guest on a podcast. That's all a podcast interview is: you and the host having a conversation about your book.
It's also important to note that you don't need special equipment or a computer programming degree to appear on a podcast. A cell phone (or better yet, a free Skype account) and a good headset with a microphone is all it takes.
The total time required to do a podcast ranged from one to two hours. The interview took between 20 minutes and an hour, and once it was produced, I'd get an email with the link to the episode.
I also wanted to help the podcasters who had just helped me. I let them know that I would publicize my appearance on their show to my readers and listeners. This was as easy as posting a link to the podcast on my Facebook page and emailing it to my email list. Podcasters absolutely loved me promoting their show, and often told me that they gained listeners every time I appeared as a guest. I would then ask them to email their friends with similar podcasts and encourage them to have me on.
It worked. I have appeared on 34 podcasts and recorded 114 episodes.
I found that it was important to keep track of every podcast I appeared on and put a link to each one on my books' website. Putting each podcast on my website showed that I was an experienced podcast guest, and assured hosts that I'd publicize their shows. Readers of my books can hear me whenever they want, while also discovering new podcasts they might be interested in. And it helped me quickly find an episode link and post it on Facebook or email it to my list. You can find two of my favorite appearances here and here.
I have strong anecdotal evidence that appearing on podcasts increases sales. Direct evidence is hard to come by because I appeared on numerous podcasts each month. However, dozens of readers have mentioned that they heard about the books on a podcast. I've asked in Facebook posts how people learned of my books and almost every one says via one of my podcast appearances. In fact, a total stranger recognized my voice when I was talking to someone else in a store.
I'm no marketing wizard; if I can do this, then so can you. I can boil this down to three takeaways. First, gather a great list of podcasts appealing to your niche audience. Second, contact the podcasters and be persistent. Finally, promote your appearances on your website, social media, and email lists.
Oh, and all of this has been a whole lot of fun. I've become friends with many podcasters. Now I know these people all over the country, and when I travel on business I often have a friend to visit.
Much like the main character in the series, the Glen Tate is a forty-something resident of the capitol of Washington State, Olympia, and is a very active prepper. He grew up in the remote logging town of Forks, Washington. "Glen" keeps his identity a secret so he won't lose his job because, in his line of work, being a prepper and questioning the motives of government is not appreciated.
We noticed the information that was contained in this post was out of date. While we work on new marketing ideas for you, enjoy these ACX University episodes on audiobook marketing and brand building.


text:
Q: How to check if caller still exist in task callback A very common scenario for a thread's callback is to inform the caller that it has finished his job. Here's the minimal example:
class task
{
public:
    void operator()(std::function<void()>&& callback)
    {
        std::thread t
        {
            [c = std::move(callback)]{
                std::this_thread::sleep_for(std::chrono::milliseconds{100});
                c();
            }
        };
        t.detach();
    }
};

class processor
{
public:
    void new_task()
    {
        auto& t = tasks.emplace_back();
        t([this]{ if (true/*this object still alives*/) finish_callback(); });
    }

private:
    void finish_callback()
    {
        // ...
    }

private:
    std::vector<task> tasks;
};

In such scenario, we have to support the case when the child task overlives the parent/caller. Is there any common design pattern that allows us to do this?
Theoretically, we may use shared_ptr + enable_shared_from_this + weak_ptr trio in such case, but this forces us to always store the parent object on the heap under shared_ptr. I would rather like to not have such a limitation.


Ask.com launches a revamped Web search site that features new technology and an updated design. The site is divided into three parts, with the ability to narrow or expand a search and see related results on the left side, the main Web search results in the center, and related results from images, video, news and other types of listings on the right.
Hovering the cursor over images enlarges them, while hovering over video will play it in the thumbnail. Clicking on certain audio links plays a 30-second clip. Click on any photo to get a full-sized view.
All screenshots are from Ask.com.
Seeing the forest through the trees is the theme of Ask.com's home page.
An image search gives more than just pictures. There are suggestions in the left, the actual images in the center and more information on the right.
Search through today's news on "search engines." Note the RSS feeds.
When you put your mouse on a story headline, an icon comes up on the right. Clicking the icon will save the story/blog for later reading.
Mousing over the "binoculars" icon will give you a preview of the site.
News is broken into sections but unlike Google, each story is listed separately.
Ask.com gives top billing to blogs and makes it easy to search through them.
While in the blog section, you can still search for news.
The blog section gives a list of feeds that you can try.
In the blog section you can subscribe to other sites.
It's even got a link and a description of Google.
Ask.com revamps its search to give suggestions, results and related structured data on a single page. Here are some of the new features.
Facts and figures from the past month in technology news.


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March 30 at 9:00. 49 minutes. MSK from Baikonur calculations of enterprises and organizations of the rocket and space industry, the launch of a space rocket "Proton-K" spacecraft "Cosmos" series for the Ministry of Defence of the Russian Federation.
In accordance with the spacecraft flight cyclogram launched into the target orbit.
This was the 310th launch rocket for the 45-year operating history. To launch the spacecraft into orbit used D-stage.
Kindergarten is located on the first floor of the school number 35, for major maintenance, dining room, as well as the installation of all necessary equipment pre-school institution spent about 23 million rubles.
After a few years, becoming graduates of kindergarten, these guys will go to the first class in the same 35th school. At present, the institution has formed four groups. One for children aged 3-4 years and three — for those who are now 2-3 years.
The new high-speed train locomotive production of PJSC "Kryukov Wagon Works" (Kremenchug, Poltava region). Begins operation at the site Kyiv-Kharkiv on April 1. This was announced by the head of the Southern Railway Victor Ostapchuk. According to him, the train will go instead of one of "Capital Express" Kyiv-Kharkiv. After the operation will be put into high-speed trains "Hyundai", Kryukovsky composition will go to Simferopol.
March 18 and 19 at the Olympic complex "Sledge" Championship was Russia's bobsled and skeleton. For the first time in the history of Russian sports such competitions were held on the territory of our country.
In the framework of the Russian Championship in luge races were held on 23 and 24 March. The competition was held among men and women in singles, doubles and crews in the relay.
Athletes unanimously agree that the Sochi route to the highest standards, is a moderately challenging, interesting, but at the same time safe.
The length of the route is 1814 meters.
Specialists of the Institute of Semiconductor Physics (ISP) name Rzhanova SB RAS for the first time in Russia will produce thermal infrared photodetectors, allowing to see the different objects in complex environments, the end of the first batch of devices will go to the customer — the state corporation "Rosatom", told RIA Novosti the head of the department Victor Institute Ovsyuk.
Russian swings for the first time to create a global brand in the segment of luxury cosmetics. The very possibility of this is an indication of the complex readiness of the economy — the technological, economic, and even the mental, the chairman of the Board of Directors of "NanoDerm pro", Doctor of Biological Sciences Alexander Zimnitsky.


text:
Cyclosomus suturalis is een keversoort uit de familie van de loopkevers (Carabidae). De wetenschappelijke naam van de soort is voor het eerst geldig gepubliceerd in 1819 door Wiedemann.

Loopkevers


text:
On Pivotal Moments
There are these moments in life that like to think of as pivotal moments. Pivotal moments are those in which when you reflect on life, you know that these moments set your path. The types of moments where the road of life is forked, and a choice must be made.
When these moments are happening, you don't know that something pivotal is happening. Sometimes the moment may feel important or have a sense of foreboding, but they could also feel like another day, another hour, of time passing by.
But these moments can mean so much, maybe even everything, and when we are in them, we don't even know it.
The hard part about these moments is once the pass. Once these moments pass you may think to yourself, "that was my chance". "If only I had done this or that." If you are lucky you can look back, beaming with pride and be able to say, "that's what started my life." In this comparison lies the dark side of pivotal moments and the darker side of not knowing if we are experiencing them or not at the time. A "wrong" decision during a pivotal moment can lead to an experience of regret. An experience that includes all sorts of feelings and situations.
So I'd argue that perhaps there is light and life in living each day as if it is a pivotal moment. Honoring and veneering each decision as if it will be the difference between light and dark, because maybe it will be. Likewise living this way opens the door for other important life experiences like risk, chance, and change.
But let's be real here. As positive an impact that living this way may be on our lives, we still won't always choose what's right in the moment. We still may look back and feel those tinges of regret trying to bloom within our hearts. The thing is when this happens, I think that living this way, in which each choice is embraced and considered carefully, looking back won't be so hard. That maybe we would be able to say, "Hey. Look I took it as it was and made the best decision that I could." Perhaps, maybe then the tinges of regret would be a little less.
Life will, alongside our old friend the universe, present us with many moments. Some will be pivotal at various strengths and intensities but the only way not to grow, and to regret, and wail at these moments is to embrace them. Embrace all of the moments with honor and reverence. Treat all like they may make or break your life.


text:
Chekhov's Ladies
Edna O'Brien
Malachi is brushing her hair, long, dark brown and with russet glints. She likes it, as he can tell from her smile in the mirror. It is Bathsheba. As he brushes, the hair takes on an added lustre, sparks of electricity emanating from every single rib, which recklessly he nibbles. He barely knows her, so how can he be brushing her hair.
He wakens with a jolt and sees the range of mauve mountain through the aeroplane window, misted over, as he has so often sighted them on his regular journeys to and from Dublin. The watchful mountain. How he wishes that he were not going home just then, that he could go elsewhere, to steady himself and forget the beguilements of Manhattan. He signals the hostess to bring him another whiskey, though the bar is shut and she disappears, returning instantly and placing a miniature in the palm of his hand. He has had a few since they set out from New York, but intends to sober up at the airport with coffee, and take gulps of air before the drive home, navigating the corkscrew bends. Showers, stray sheep, bushes warped from wind and a few skeleton trees, effigies to a shorn world.
During his six days in New York everything centred on Uncle Vanya, Chekhov's play, which he had transplanted to Ireland and for which there was a workshop in a loft somewhere in SoHo. It was hoped that there might be a production in Providence, Rhode Island, sometime in the autumn. Rhode Island, same name as his wife's hens, lazying in their dust baths in the summer days.
The company showered him with welcome, a rocking chair no less, Barry's Gold label tea and a samovar in salutation to their hero, Anton Chekhov. He felt reborn as a writer, after so many years of stagnancy and botched attempts. He was forty-four, exactly the same age as when Chekhov retched into a spittoon, before he drank the legendary glass of champagne and died. They were curious to know why he had transposed the play to Ireland and he said there were similarities in Russian literature, what with run-down estates, crumbling houses, melancholia and madness. At this, Bathsheba smiled. An odalisque in Turkish trousers, the ochre material bunched around her thin ankles, her eyes were dark, deep-set and burnt with a fierceness. She alternated the parts of Sonya and Elena and in both she was electrifying, the besotted, suffering Sonya and the brittle, capricious Elena. She lived in Brooklyn and had a cat. Her ancestors, as she told them, were from Vladivostok, but forcibly emigrated to China and in her possession was an embroidered silk shawl that had belonged to her mother's mother, Olga. This mother's mother, having been tortured in a camp in Japan, to which they were later despatched, had chosen to endure her punishment as if caught in the throes of religious ecstasy, and died confounding her torturers. One of Bathsheba's earliest memories was of Christmas in some distant country, being fed potato stuffing from a spoon, except that the spoon was too wide and unwieldy for her mouth. Fragments and yet enough for him to conceive of a whole history. Surprising them one day, she did a headstand to beguile poor besotted Uncle Vanya and multiple needles fell from her hair. They were, as she explained, from when she had gone to her acupuncturist, a Dr Wong in Brooklyn. Was Dr Wong also enmeshed in those thickets of hair?
When the director encouraged Malachi to tell them something of his own life, he hesitated, not wanting to describe the everyday routine, incessant rain, walking Nestor, his red setter, morning and evening, closeting himself in his study for hours on end and his first whiskey at six, regardless of when clocks changed. He did not mention the recent film festival in the local school and how he and Oonagh had seen some great Italian films, both of them falling for the waif enchantments of Giulietta Masina in La Strada and walking home holding hands, invigorated.
'There is a story I never wrote,' he began and they sat on the floor in a circle, quiet, intent, and even the actress who was playing the old nurse in Vanya put her precious knitting aside. He recalled a summer's day when he set out in search of a story that had puzzled him for many years. It was about twenty miles away, in a district called Ballindubh, so named because the branches of the trees on either side of the road had met and meshed, and in summer it was like a glade under there. The story was of two warring brothers, ending in two gruesome deaths. Feargal, their groom and factotum, was the only person who knew it inside out and knew the motives, but had always kept his silence. Feargal lived in the tiny gate lodge at the entrance to the back avenue and was known to be contrary.
Malachi painted a picture of that scorching day, his knocking on the cottage door and Feargal calling I'm on the lavatory, while a dog barked crazily to be let out. He waited in the yard and watched the midges swarm in off the lake, the water with its dazzling brightness, the yard all neglect, full of weeds, thistles and old defunct machinery, including two vintage cars, mounted on blocks of wood and cement. There was a rhubarb bed in one corner, the big crinkled leaves sweating in the sun. Then Feargal appeared, tying a bit of rope around his trousers, all talk and twinkle. Fine, the finest he said and put his rude good health down to a cup of buttermilk and raw herring every day. Yes, the pheasants were thinning out and the woodcock not right since that disaster over in Chernobyl. By the way he kept talking and shifting, it was clear, as Malachi told them, that he guessed the reason for the visit – a penman with a notebook, snooping for scandal. The small dog, Biscuit, was going insane at the advent of a visitor, so much so that Feargal held her upside down, as he might an old mat, then flung her into one of the motor cars, where she perched on a pile of old newspapers. Once installed, she performed little ballets, as with one paw and then the other, she tapped upon the windscreen. If she were let loose, said Feargal, she would run under the hole in the hedge, head off and get stolen or shot. The countryside, he insisted, was gone to rot, hippies flooding in, thieves, robbers and sharks grabbing sites with water frontage, for half nothing. The bastard developer, his neighbour, had bought the Glebe for a song. It lay empty for years, covered in briars, yet yer man spotted it and was now lord of the manor, even stopped him from bringing home a creel of turf. The problem was an adjoining right of way, a little track that the brothers had given him, except that he had no piece of paper to prove it. I was a right mug he kept saying and recalled the name of a solicitor that he should have consulted at the time. The two brothers, Michael Patrick and Michael John, were known to be inseparable, always seen at Mass together and at race meetings and were horse-mad. On the eve of a big race in County Limerick, Michael Patrick's horse Rubicon, who was favourite with the bookmakers, staggered as she was led out the stable door, froth spilling from her mouth and within minutes, she collapsed on the cobbles. The investigations that followed were massive, Guards going from house to house and suspicion falling on this person or that. About three months later, the parish priest received an anonymous letter, saying that the writer knew beyond any doubt that the culprit was none other than Michael John, who had been procuring strychnine illegally from chemists in different parishes, saying his lands and his yards were plagued with foxes. From that day on the brothers were at war and never spoke again. Everything in the house was halved and Mrs Boyce, who did the weekly washing, described how cups, saucers, saucepans and cutlery were all divided up. In the big cold hall, with stuffed pine martens in glass cases, a line of blue rope separated each brother's quarters and each kept to his own staircase, when they came or went to fetch grub from the kitchen. On the anniversary of the fatality, as dusk fell, Michael Patrick stood on the top step of his staircase waiting for his brother to appear, then aimed his shotgun, firing several times. Immediately afterwards he got into his car and drove five miles up the road to a slate quarry, where he took his own life by putting a revolver in his mouth. Locals were shocked at how gruesome it was, how inhuman, brothers who had been bosom friends yielding to such barbarity. Was it the loss of the horse they wondered, or perhaps as young men both had courted the same woman on separate nights in the woods, or maybe the overweening attachment to Mother, whom they always referred to as Mammy.
'I could see I was getting nowhere with the real story,' Malachi told his listeners and enacted how suddenly Feargal had changed tactics, all umbrage, saying he hadn't had his first cup of tea, then hurrying into his cottage and slamming the door.
He described the strange aftermath, his walking up the road to where his car was parked and Feargal running after him, calling his name, then, as they came face-to-face, handing him an armful of rhubarb, saying that since his poor wife died, he had no use for it. It might be in bed at night, that I'd think of them long ago things you're after, but they're gone and they're better gone Feargal said and at that he ran across the fields singing some raucous song, joyously.
'So I never wrote it,' Malachi said.
'Maybe you will,' Bathsheba said and their eyes met for the very first time and then looked away discomfited.
On their last day, at the end of rehearsals, the company stood formally in a queue to bid him goodbye, bearing little gifts, a mug with a picture of an apple, a key ring that had broadway indented on brass and various picture postcards. Bathsheba stood very still, a rich amber amulet on her throat, held in a wide, black grosgrain band, gaiety and mourning as one. Her card was in an envelope and once out on the street, he opened it and leapt with excitement. It was a photograph of a bunch of rhubarb, tied in a posy, the thin vermilion stalks smothered in swathes of green. There was no message. On a tiny card was her address in Brooklyn and her apartment, 2a, but no telephone number.
An awakened passion in him suddenly extended to all mankind, including his wife and only the hardest heart could begrudge him such recklessness, as he hailed a taxi to take him uptown. At Central Park he leapt out, his heart opening to embrace traffic, fumes, frenzy, hurrying humanity and yes, even the soulless works of art nailed to the railings along Fifth Avenue. Insanely, he smelt orange blossom. It floated in from somewhere and in the garden of a restaurant, where he stopped to have a drink, the changing colour of Campari as the waiter added soda water seemed like a painting in the making. Back at the club for his farewells, he tipped lavishly and signed the visitors' book in a swirling hand.
Oonagh is talking a mile a minute. The Clancy fella has been and blasted the rocks on the bit of field beyond their garden, so they would soon have a larger vegetable patch and her best hen, one of the Rhode Islands, had gone missing. Ownie, their neighbour's boy (a simpleton), had searched with her, high and low, calling and yodelling, but with no luck. Had he noticed the dahlias on the way in, and weren't they a sight to see, their blaze outdoing all the other flowers in the various beds. She had to know what the actors were like, how rehearsals went and if the director had approved of the adaptation they had done. She said they because she too had a part in Vanya, consulting with him on the different drafts. At times they acted it out together in the winter evenings, donning hats or scarves or stoles to emulate this or that character. One evening, as a celebration, Ownie and his mother were invited over for a surprise performance and Ownie had sat rigid throughout. Afterwards, the mother asked if the drunk Dr Astrov in the play was modelled on their local doctor, while Ownie wept helplessly, asking why everyone in the story was so unhappy in love.
'Did the two main actresses get on?' Oonagh is asking and suddenly Malachi is afraid, afraid of her wife's antennae.
'Of course they got on, they're professionals,' he said, that bit too snappy.
'You're a bag of cats, Malachi,' she said turning away, refusing to open the package in which there was a lace blouse that Bathsheba had helped him choose in an antique shop in Greenwich Village.
'I'm sorry . . . I'll sleep it off,' he said appeasingly, but then, just at the stairwell, she called after him to say they have been invited that evening to supper at Ewart's house. 'Creep.' Ewart, the reigning literary swell, whose star rose by the hour, while his fell. Ewart jetting in from some festival in Rome or Paris or Barcelona and, as always, throwing a bash. He could just picture it, the oak door held open with a boulder for the rustic effect, champagne in pewter cups on the hall table, big arrangements of shop flowers, scented candles, along with framed testimonials that Ewart had accrued from all over. He hated him for that and for the way he ingratiated himself with the local ladies, his smarm, the soft voice, the gifts, crystals specially chosen to complement each woman's astrological sign. That and the donations he gave for local lads who volunteered to be stretcher-bearers for the halt and the lame in Lourdes.
'You won't find me there,' he said and continued on up.
Not long after Oonagh had left, he came down, poured himself a large whiskey and went through the kitchen, into the garden. The night so still, deep stillness and 'a foliage of stars'. Wasn't that what Joyce had the wily Giacomo called him in his hour of temptation. Malachi would send Bathsheba his first novel that had the best of himself and of the haunted landscape that had shaped him. He thinks of her hands turning the pages, her feelings melting into his and before long, he is carried away, up there all alone, in the old schoolhouse that Oonagh and her brother helped him renovate. A muse had entered his life, the very elixir that he needed to write again. Oonagh had done so twenty-five years previous, with her hushed voice and skin so white that the veins on her chest were as fine as filigree. It was at a Bloomsday celebration in Dublin, after he had been given an award and guests were imploring Oonagh to sing. Suddenly she stood up, the scarlet colour running zigzag on the column of her neck, the voice tentative, then not, soaring, so much so that the cut glasses on the dining table trembled to her breath. You could hear a pin drop. When she came to the line that Joyce himself would have known – Oh Gregory let me in – every man at that table wanted her. It was how they met.
'I love you both,' he called out to the sweet-smelling meadow and the folded flowers, and having said it more than once, his conscience was at ease. He felt exhilarated, renewed, and with a confounding logic said that all was well now in the best of all possible worlds. He fetched another drink. His mind is made up. He will return to Providence, Rhode Island, for the three weeks of rehearsal, come home and be a good husband again. He hears Bathsheba's voice calling his name across seas, that and the music of her silvery bracelets, tinkling the air.
Things were normal but wintry. He was full of consideration, whistling merrily, his whistles saying, Observe how contrite I am, carrying in enough logs for a month, insisting on making a bouillabaisse from a very complicated recipe. It was the evening he decided to light a fire in his study that things erupted, as he knew they must. The chimney still smoked. Had he not told her the evening before he left for the States to get the chancer back from Mullingar and say all was not super-duper, that the hundred euros he had forked out was a waste and to please return and sweep it properly. Then she tells him that her sister Siobhan, always a bone of contention, was accompanying them to the Leonard Cohen concert at the end of the month. No way. Siobhan's very presence would mar it, her non-stop gabble, her dirndl skirt, her boots and cowboy hat, her vulgarity.
'I can't stand her,' he said.
''Tis mutual,' Oonagh replied and asked if he ever stopped to consider the effect he had on others, so caught up was he in his own superiority.
'It's this coffee-shop psychobabble,' he said, stung by her effrontery.
'People feel ill at ease with you Malachi . . . you are so above them all.'
'They talk bullshit.'
'They can't help it . . . they don't know any better and you're no Chekhov . . . if you were you would see into their poor hurt souls and their poor hurt selves . . .'
'Why haven't you said this before?'
'To be the good little wife,' she said, then laughed shrilly, adding that when he came into the pub people shied away to avoid him.
'Brendan doesn't think this,' he said.
'He's too nice to tell you.'
'But you're telling me.'
'Yes I am . . . You're not the author you set out to be . . . You're embittered . . . You'd sell your soul to appear in print.'
He asked her to retract it, which she wouldn't, and then he struck her a hard, hating blow across the cheek and he struck her a second time and could hear her laughing, goading him as he lunged, striking her anywhere, everywhere, and then a crash as she tripped over a chair, gripping the edges of the table to find her way around it and escape him. At that very moment the door was pushed in and he heard the ridiculous startled clucking of a hen. As he steadied the overturned lamp, he saw that the shoulder of her pink camisole had got torn and half of a gold chain snagged on her brazier.
'Darling . . . you found her,' she said to Ownie, as fondly as if nothing untoward had been happening.
'She was under a big black pot in the field between the knackers and us,' he said and together they let the hen down on the floor, where idiotically it began to peck at the small grains of rose crystal that had got ground in the frenzy. The first car was pulling up outside in the yard and there were friendly beep-beeps, as the group arrived for her monthly book club. It was followed by a second car, then a third, voices calling across the yard in the dusk, guests carrying plates and dishes and bottles.
'Tell them to fuck off out of here,' he said.
'Malachi,' she said quietly, shielding the child from his obscenities and it was at that instant he freaked. He pulled Ownie from her, lugged him out the back door and told him to look up at the sky and the Milky Way and for all of his life to remember that the Milky Way was the scar left by Phaethon's mad passage in his father's chariot.
There were no stars. There was no Milky Way.
In his study, their laughs, their voices, galled. He walked to the window, then to the sofa bed, then changed into his wellingtons for the impending journey. In the rucksack that he kept there, he searched to make sure his toothbrush and shaving kit were in it. It was always packed for when he went to Dublin every two weeks, to take a writing workshop at the university. He had to go somewhere, but where. His brother lived further north with a shrew of a wife, both of them teetotal and dinner at six o'clock, but Christ, his brother was his brother and he'd go there.
All mankind might have died as he trudged home under a hazed moon, the field a swamp, his boots aswirl with water, and in the distance a donkey braying piteously.
The house was in darkness, the key under the bit of slate, as he knew it would be, and he let himself in quietly, or as quiet as a tall, inebriated man could. Oonagh would be asleep, so he plumped for the downstairs room, the domain of Siobhan, where her toiletries clogged the window ledge. He was awake long before breakfast, clutching the letter he had written to Oonagh: I know that I am a cunt at times and that you are the only person I can tell.
'I better get some grub going,' he said as she appeared in the kitchen.
'Suit yourself . . . I'm not hungry,' she said and as she bent down to get the dog's bowl, he touched her neck gently, contritely, and she flung his hand off as if it was a branding iron. He was unslept, remorseful and fed up. Taking a scone from the batch that had been brought the previous evening, he retreated to his study, intending to stay there and let things simmer down.
As if by clairvoyance, he went to his desk and pulled the drawer open, already trembling. It was where he kept things, mementos, conkers from some desultory boyhood walk, the acceptance letter for his first short story, his grandfather's clay pipe and the black Mass card for their child, who would have been called Isabella, had she lived. He would never forget that time in the hospital, Oonagh begging to be left alone with her little mite, whom she placed naked across her naked heart, insisting that once they touched, she could instil life back into it. She was unhinged with grief and the drugs they had given her, but ever afterwards she swore that it did happen, that for an instant, the small fingers wrapped themselves around her thumb and clung, clung. He had gone out to have a smoke when the nurse came for him and how well and how ineradicably he recalled the hush of that night, pigeons in a line along the turret, cooing softly, the warm smell of their droppings and the hopelessness in the nurse's expression. For a long time, Oonagh withdrew into herself, barely speaking and once when he asked her, begged her, to open up to him, she said it would be wrong, it would be a profanity.
So there it was, in the serviette that he had taken from a restaurant in Greenwich Village, the draft of the letter that he was writing to Bathsheba, although her name did not appear on the page. Oonagh had been in there, he knew without knowing. She had read some of the idiocies he had put down: O shining city, city full of dreams (from Baudelaire) and his own dream in which he was nibbling her hair. He asked what were her favourite flowers and wondered if he might send her wood violets, with the clay hanging off the stem.
'I never touched her,' he said as he stormed back into the kitchen.
'Poor Malachi,' she said, her face ash-white.
'Nothing happened,' he said.
'Everything happened,' she replied.
'I'm not going back to America . . . I'm not going back . . . I swear.'
'It doesn't make a whit of difference . . . we've lived a lie for too long.'
'Trust me,' he said, pleading with her.
'A time will come when I'll thank her for getting her claws into you,' she said.
'She is a beautiful and wounded woman,' he said bluntly.
'Oh really? She must give you the limelight, or maybe she'll give you the child I failed to.'
'Maybe she will,' he said savagely and he saw her lower lip quiver uncontrollably and then she shut up, as if throttled. But she had not finished, she had not said all the cruel things that were in her heart.
If she had not left at that moment, what would have happened? But she did leave and he was glad of it. He walked through the downstairs rooms, talking, shaking, shouting, he kicked things, waste-paper baskets, her shoes, her cardigan and a velvet panel that had slipped down from one of the tall window shutters. What he did then he knew to be desperate. He pulled out the drawer, had to wrench it to free it completely, and emptied the contents onto the floor, including the letter he had meant to give her, to make a fire. Yet he did not go into the kitchen to fetch matches. Instead, he sat down, staring at these things and wept, wept for his own increasing isolation, for his wife's broken trust and for the woman he would never see again.
From the bonfire in the garden, hours later, furls of ash rose and scattered and the smell in the air was redolent of autumn.
A warm Saturday six weeks later and Malachi sat in the kitchen with a chair to the open door, Nestor in Sigmund Freud mode, ears cocked, letting out mewls of anticipation, already guessing that Oonagh was coming. In a dark suit with a white collar, he felt like a schoolteacher about to give his estranged wife a geography lesson. The map in its goldish frame was already on the table, to demonstrate to her. It was an old map, buff-coloured and rare, which he had bought years before in a second-hand bookshop. All the towns and townlands and rivers and bridges and churches of Ireland were marked in it, alongside scenes of battle and the places of massacre and the places of pilgrimage, each with its own perfectly executed image.
The crunch of her high heels on the gravel made him jump, even though he was the one who had asked her to come. She had moved further north and the address she gave him, while she sorted things out, was above a paint shop in a small town in Longford. One night, very late, he drove there just to see it, but all was in darkness and he drove home again.
She looked drawn and sat stiffly as a visitor might, Nestor licking her ankles through her stockings and her hands folded sedately.
'I have decided,' he began, hoping there was nothing in his voice of the preacher – 'I want us to tour Ireland with Uncle Vanya . . . I want it done here . . . not there.'
'You can't afford it,' she said.
'I can. I've talked to Brendan . . . he's going to approach people . . . the local council, the Arts Council . . . he's certain he can get the funding . . . we'll bring Chekhov to all the little towns where people are crying out for it.'
'They're not crying out for it,' she said wearily, 'they play bingo.'
'I want to give something back,' he said, then blurted the names of small towns to which they would travel – Ardstraw, Ardbeg, Ballybough, Ballymoney, Ballysadare, Benlettery, Bengowan, Killybegs, Magilacuddy, Sneem, Schull – then suddenly put the map back on the table and also sat.
'In Yalta,' he began, the voice high-pitched and near hysterical, 'Chekhov wrote to his future wife Olga in Moscow and said, It is nine o'clock of an evening and I am as lonely as a coffin.'
'And what did she write back?' she asked wearily.
'We don't know,' he answered, then pleadingly, 'Will you do it, will you bring Chekhov to those poor wretches who have never heard of him?'
She did not reply.
They sat in silence, the sun coming and going in glancing shafts and not a word was said, and no knowing what was lost or what might yet be salvaged.
'Oh poor Malachi . . . you're mad. . . stone mad,' she said and he saw that her eyes were filling up with tears, but that she could not speak. He knew now that it was a yes, she would come with him and a strange, overwhelming tenderness befell him.
They would cast their bread upon the waters and in one of those sleepy, forgotten towns, someone young or old would be quickened into life at encountering Chekhov for the very first time.
Photograph © Gueorgui Pinkhassov / Magnum Photos
Granta 138: Journeys
Go, Local Sports Team, Go!
Nicola Barker
'This is his Toxic Super-Ego at work. Surely?'
'Leni's last image of her mother is from the rear window of the car.'
Sandra Newman In Conversation
Sandra Newman & Lucy Diver
'While you're still arguing you still have hope.'
Stuck in Trees (with Apologies to Ian Frazier)
Jessica Francis Kane
'On 8 January 2018, I noticed a large bunch of purple balloons in a tree near my apartment building.'


Thank you. I tried but still not working.
The latter sets the allow high dpi flag but I guess it's not enough.
He's on the official release, so that won't work without first updating to unofficial, and probably the latest alpha as well.
Ah ok didn't check that, thanks.


text:
Plastic trash is the latest source of greenhouse gas
Common plastics emit greenhouse gases such as methane and ethylene as they degrade, a finding that brings home just how interconnected environmental problems tend to be.
Common plastics emit greenhouse gases such as methane and ethylene as they degrade in the environment, researchers from the University of Hawai'i at Mānoa reported last week in the journal PLoS ONE.
The researchers sealed samples of various plastics – polycarbonate, acrylic, polypropylene, polyethylene terephthalate, polystyrene, high-density polyethylene, and low-density polyethylene – in airtight jars and measured the amount of gases produced under different environmental conditions.
Sunlight triggers the breakdown of plastic, but once the process starts, greenhouse gas emissions continue in the dark.
All of the polymers tested give off methane, one of the most potent greenhouse gases, and ethylene, which contributes to carbon monoxide formation in the atmosphere. Low-density polyethylene, the most commonly used form of plastic worldwide (it's used in plastic grocery bags), is the highest emitter of both gases.
Sunlight triggers the breakdown of plastic, but once the process starts, greenhouse gas emissions continue in the dark, the researchers found. They also documented higher emissions from plastic exposed to air than from plastic in water.
An estimated 275 million megatonnes of plastic waste were produced in 2010. And plastic production is expected to double worldwide over the next two decades. Even though much of that plastic may be recycled or disposed of properly, the sheer scale of production makes for a mind-boggling amount of plastic out there breaking down and giving off greenhouse gases.
"Our results show that plastics represent a heretofore unrecognized source of climate-relevant trace gases that are expected to increase as more plastic is produced and accumulated in the environment," the researchers write.
The researchers also collected plastic – mostly polyethylene – from the Pacific Ocean. They found that this "aged" plastic still produces greenhouse gases, suggesting that emissions may continue for the entire lifetime of a piece of plastic debris. Emissions likely continue because as the plastic weathers, it develops tiny pits and cracks that increase the surface area available to release greenhouse gases.
Discover more: What if we tracked a species recovery not just its extinction risk?
In fact, the problem may get worse as plastic breaks down in the environment. The researchers measured emissions from low-density polyethylene pellets, flakes, and powder, and found that powder emits the highest levels of greenhouse gases by weight, likely because of its greater surface area.
This suggests that the tiny particles known as microplastics in the ocean may be, ounce for ounce, the worst form of plastic where greenhouse gas emissions are concerned.
The researchers are now trying to calculate the amount of plastic exposed to the environment on land and at sea in order to estimate global greenhouse gas emissions from plastics. Given the large amounts of methane produced by other sources, plastic trash may represent a tiny proportion. But for rarer greenhouse gases, production from plastics could be a significant source.
Moreover, the findings bring home just how interconnected environmental problems tend to be. At first, that seems like cause for despair – oh great, plastic trash not only entangles sea turtles but now it warms the climate too? But it's also an opportunity: turn off the spigot of cheap fossil fuels and you'll likely diminish the environmental ills from plastics too.
Source: Royer S.-J. et al. "Production of methane and ethylene from plastic in the environment." PLoS ONE. 2018.


text:
The Fermilab colloquium introduces staff, users, students and members of the public to a wide range of scientific and science-related topics presented by notable speakers from across the country and around the world. Colloquia are open to the public.
An integral part of Fermilab's academic culture, "orange" colloquium talks are aimed at a broad scientific and technical audience, while "green" talks are of general interest to all laboratory staff, users and members of the public.
Colloquia are open to everyone. Unless otherwise advertised, the talks are held at 4 pm on Wednesday afternoons in the One West auditorium in Wilson Hall. Members of the public wishing to attend must show a photo ID at the laboratory entrance and tell the guard on duty that they are attending the colloquium.
Fermilab upcoming colloquia
Lectures begin at 4:00 p.m. in 1 West
Appropriate for physicists Appropriate for all lab staff and members of the public
Neutrino: chronicles of an aloof witness
Aug. 7, 2019, 4:00 pm
Goren Senjanovic, Abdus Salam International Center for Theorectical Physics
As you read this, trillions of neutrinos from the sun are passing through every square inch of your body, doing no harm whatsoever. They convey information from the depth of the universe and have been present from its very birth. Neutrinos have captured the imagination of physicists from the time they were first conceived and... More »
Prof. Yvonne Wong, University of South New Wales
New physics and astrophysics applications of coherent neutrino-nucleus scattering
Louis Strigari, Texas A&M University
Coherent elastic neutrino-nucleus scattering (CEvNS) is a long-standing theoretical prediction of the Standard Model (SM), and the COHERENT experiment has recently achieved the first detection of it. CEvNSprovides an important probe of physics beyond the SM. In addition, it can open up a new window into neutrino astrophysics, through studies of low energy neutrinos from the Sun, atmosphere, and supernovae. CEvNS is also vital for understanding and interpreting future particle dark matter searches. In this talk, I will discuss the prospects for learning about the nature of neutrinos and astrophysical sources from CEvNS detection, highlighting how astrophysical and terrestrial-based detections play important and complementary roles.
The POEMMA Project: Multi-messenger astronomy from space
Prof Angela Olinto, University of Chicago
Sept. 4, 2019, 4:00 pm
Sept. 11, 2019, 4:00 pm
Prof. Robert Knapp
Oct. 2, 2019, 4:00 pm
Neutrinos in Cosmology and Astrophysics
Pinging space rocks - radar story of asteroids and comets
Marina Brozović, Jet Propulsion Laboratory/NASA
Nov. 13, 2019, 4:00 pm
No colloquium
Dec. 4, 2019, 4:00 pm
Prof. Art McDonald
Jan. 1, 2020, 4:00 pm


text:
I signed my first contract in 2000 when I was just about to turn fifteen years old. I was desperate to be a model, but not desperate enough to do something extreme to my body to get the deal. I was clueless to the fact that plus modeling existed at the same time I was seeking out modeling agencies who had no such division. I was not clueless to the fact, however, that I was a curvy young lady with hip measurements that would most likely never decrease in numbers. I'm no doctor, but I knew there was no way I could move bone. Losing the twenty pounds asked of me at the time and whittling down to the ideal model measurements of the early 2000's was not in my cards.
I started my path very simply shooting catalogs in Europe and living in a scarce social media world. I was a nameless face for the better part of my career, but that was ok, curvy models were creating a buzz slowly but surely. The same girls whose portfolios I looked through the day I signed my contract, were starting to make waves and I found this to be the exact steps forward I knew were always meant to be. Kate Dillon was featured in Vogue Magazine's Shape Issue in 2002 shot by renowned photographer Helmut Newton, and Crystal Renn was the first curvy model in a Dolce&Gabbana campaign shot in 2006 by Steven Meisel. This was MAJOR. This was inspiring. I had to make this my future. Like most forays into exploring something unknown and new, the feature of a different size in fashion came a bit few and far between. People wondered if the inclusion of curves were a fad or something a magazine would do for shock value to get the masses talking. I never saw it this way. Blame it on the ability to always find the silver lining, but I saw this as our beginning. It was moments like these that made me, a young but confident model, know that we could do big things in this industry. The door had been unlocked.
After the great triumphs of Kate and Crystal, I wondered if the industry could permanently fill the gap between them and a Kate Moss type figure and even go beyond. They could...and in 2010 they did.
My first big break was for V magazine followed by a one two punch from Vogue Italia. For the July 2011 issue I was featured on the cover and the inside pages alongside three of my plus size peers. If the door had been unlocked in the years before, this blew it off it's hinges. These two magazines were responsible for allowing the world to see curvy models again, the way they had been portrayed in the earlier days- beautifully and fashionably, the same as any model of a smaller size would be. Curves fit in perfectly on these pages and did not go unnoticed. The feedback of the reader was unanimous…we love this, more please! Since then, my resume changed drastically. I've shot for Vogue, W Magazine, CR Fashion Book, Italian Vogue, and Glamour to name a few with photographers and stylists I admire. Naysayers questioned once again if it was all just a flash in the pan and last year I think we settled that question once and for all. In 2015, I was chosen as one of the twelve girls for the iconic Pirelli Calendar.
That brings us to 2016. Barbie has a new shape, curves took over Sports Illustrated, designers launched new lines to accommodate all figures (hi, Rachel Roy! Thank you!), and women of different races, ages, sizes and shapes are on covers, billboards, and taking over television.
It's good to look back to see just how far you've come and even more important to see where you are going. I like to think it takes one throw of the pebble in the water to create a lasting ripple effect and that has been done. The change is not coming, we are living in it. Yes, it had been a long road to this point, but I find the best things in life are worth the wait. The work and determined pursuit to prove all bodies are beautiful and worthy of celebration has paid off and the influence will be everlasting. Inclusion, acceptance and appreciation of all people is the new norm in fashion. By flipping the script on "standards", we are single handedly raising up the next generations to see beauty in everyone. We are making it so that being curvy, or petite, or having braces, or going grey are not taboo but celebrated, and one where a compliment is passed in place of judgement. We are making it so that differences are not seen as challenges, but instead seen as joys. It starts as simply as a picture, but the message attached speaks volumes. This isn't just a curvy revolution, it's a change everyone can welcome.
"It's good to look back to see just how far you've come and even more important to see where you are going."
For example, some of my heroes in today's fashion world include Hari Nef, a smart, beautiful trans woman taking the high fashion world by storm and educating us along the way. There's also Jillian Mercado, an inspiration and super cool chick who is wheelchair bound with Muscular Dystrophy and just became the face of Diesel. I admire Nicola Griffin, a stunning 56 year old grandmother who donned a bikini for the first time for a swimsuit campaign in Sports Illustrated. I praise, look up to and will forever remain in awe of every single curvy model I share this industry with for their unwavering determination to speak out, show the world what makes them great and create lasting change. It is all of these pioneers, and many more, that confirm the future of beauty is new, different, welcomed, and my favorite…EXCITING.
Carine Roitfeld once said, "Fashion is sometimes too systematic. I prefer the personality of the girls. They give something much more beautiful. Sometimes you just don't care if you can't zip a skirt."
And there you have it. It's about the person and what's on the inside. The thing that makes you, YOU! That is what's in fashion.
This is a new era. One that includes everyone.
It's safe to say, the future's so bright you'll have to wear shades, and not just the "one size fits all" kind. ;)
© 2020 Rachel Roy. All Rights Reserved
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