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Star Traks: The Vexed Generation Stories
Year 1 Year 2 Year 3 Year 4 Year 5 Year 6 Year 7 Year 8
The Ship The Crew
Crew Years 1-4 Crew Years 5-8
Star Traks: The Vexed Generation
The Ford Maneuver
Star Traks: The Vexed Generation was created by Anthony Butler. It's based on Alan Decker's Star Traks, which in turn is based on Star Trek, created by Gene Roddenberry. Paramount and Viacom, their dark masters, own everything, by way of the "Merger Maneuver." Apologies to "The Simpsons." We've Copyrighted like it's 1999. All rights, such as they are, are reserved. If you're offended by mildly disturbing language, situations, and the utter disregard of some of Star Trek's greatest premises, better hit the "Back" button on your browser right now. If not, welcome aboard!
Author: Anthony Butler
"Have you driven a Ford lately?"
Lt. Ford winced as Yeoman Huffmann's muskan sea punch splashed into his eyes. "So you won't go to the holodeck with me tonight?"
"Not in this lifetime," Huffmann said, pushing off her barstool and heading out of the Constellation Cafe.
Ford chuckled, wiping his face with a napkin. "Ah, I can wait."
Mirk drifted over to Ford's side of the bar and looked him over with disapproval. "You certainly are bad for business, Mr. Ford. Thank the Directors I don't charge currency."
"It's not my fault that the women on this ship just aren't sophisticated enough to handle a man of my calibur."
"People are trying to eat here," Amara said, stepping up to the bar. "Four Terrelian Tonics and a Breen Windblaster. And more pretzels." She leaned forward to kiss Mirk on the cheek as he punched the order into his replicator.
Ford looked on, dumbfounded.
"There is a human expression you may be familiar with, Mr. Ford," Mirk said, stacking the drinks on Amara's tray. "'You get more flies with hummus than you do with vinaigrette.'"
"What?" Ford asked, scratching his head. "Why would I want to attract flies?"
"You're missing the point," Mirk said, exchanging Ford's empty glass of Kelvarkian cider for a full one. "Be nice to females. Be yourself. The rest will follow."
Ford grimaced, sipping his cider. "But I am being myself."
"In that case," Mirk sighed. "Try being someone else for a while."
"Nice talking to you Mirk, but whoever I am has to go on duty," Ford said, draining his glass and slamming it down.
"Cheer up, Lieutenant," Mirk said, taking Ford's glass and polishing it. "There are more important things than impressing women."
"Like what?" Ford called back, heading toward the double doors at the entrance to the Constellation Cafe.
Mirk watched Amara pass out drinks and smiled fondly. "Uh, I'll get back to you on that."
Captain Baxter crossed his legs and leaned back in the command chair. "There Kelly and I are, in the middle of…well, consummating our marraige."
"Big word," Conway commented, leaning forward with interest, sipping his double mochacino.
"Uh-huh. Go on."
"So the door bleeps. We ignore it, as usual. Then someone uses his Priority One Starfleet access code to open the door and barges into my quarters. Then I hear my MOM and DAD calling out my name."
Conway shivered. "Uhhhh. So what did you do?"
Baxter shrugged. "I screamed for them to get out."
"And what did they do?" Tilleran asked, grinning and leaning against her science station. Slowly, the whole bridge crew was getting into this.
"They did whatever any sane parent would do when they hear their son scream for them to go away."
Seated at ops at the front of the bridge, Lt. Commander Larkin cocked her head, processing Baxter's statement. "They went in."
Baxter nodded. "Uh-huh."
J'hana grunted, resting her hands on her tactical console. "That must have been quite a surprise for them."
Baxter nodded again. "Uh-huh. As you might imagine, that gave Kelly the perfect opportunity to instruct my parents on boundaries and privacy, in the form of screaming and throwing both her boots at them."
"They were by the bed because she'd just come off duty," Conway reasoned.
Baxter looked at Conway askance. "The fact that you've worked all that out frightens me. Anyway, my parents aren't talking to me, Kelly's not talking to my parents, and I'm not talking to any of them. The worst part is, in any other situation aboard a Starfleet vessel, I'd be taking this matter to…"
Tilleran finished the thought. "The Ship's Counselor."
"You see my dilemma."
"Have you ever considered working out the problem yourself?" J'hana asked, annoyed.
Baxter cast J'hana an irritated look. "The thought had crossed my mind."
Before J'hana could fire back, the aft turbolift doors opened and Lt. Ford shuffled out. "Here I am, love me or leave me!"
"Hmmm…I vote we leave him," Tilleran said dully.
Ford narrowed his eyes at Tilleran. "I'd expect a somewhat more witty reply from a science officer."
Tilleran returned to her scans of the passing star system. "Oh, please. Either way you'll still picture me naked, won't you?"
"My mind has a mind of its own, Lieutenant," Ford said, relieving Ensign Madera at helm.
Conway walked over and loomed over Ford's console, sipping coffee. "Would you look at that!" He leaned forward, examining Ford's head. "Looks like you're getting some of that hair back."
"It's taking long enough," Ford muttered. "It's been six months since I quit that stupid cult and I still don't have enough to part."
"It must be a continuing struggle for you, Mr. Ford," Baxter muttered.
"The look is definitely not doing me any good."
"I don't see why you couldn't have just did what me and the others did," Conway said. "Regressive genetic hair redistribution therapy."
Ford shook his head. "Nobody's messing around with the DNA on my head."
"I don't see why not," J'hana barbed. "You let them mess with the stuff inside your head, didn't you?"
"That's enough," Baxter said. "Let's get back on task here. Anything interesting in this system, Tilleran?"
Tilleran didn't answer; she seemed totally engrossed in her readouts.
"Lieutenant?" Baxter asked, looking over at the science station.
Interest piqued, Conway strolled over to the science station and peered over it. "What is it, Tilleran?"
Tilleran tapped some more buttons quickly, then looked at Baxter. Her mouth moved but no sound came out.
"Spit it out, Tilleran!" Conway said, twisting his head as he peered at the readouts. "I can't read upside-down!"
Tilleran swalloed. "A fleet. A big one."
"Tactical!" Baxter barked.
J'hana swung around in her chair at tactical and brought a map of the system with the fleet superimposed up on the viewscreen. "Scans coming through now. Confirmed, sir. They're Leeramar."
"Not the Leeramar again," Conway grumbled, returning to his seat. "It's like they have a personal vendetta against us."
"Red Alert," Baxter ordered. "Mr. Ford, bring us around and get us the hell out of here. Skirmishes we can handle, but we sure as hell can't take on a whole fleet."
"Too late," J'hana snapped. "They have spotted us. Three squadrons of Leeramar battleships are breaking off and heading this way."
"Hail them," said Baxter.
"No response," J'hana said. "Apparently, they don't feel like talking."
"In that case, hit the engines, Mr. Ford! Full impulse until we clear the system, then gun it!" Baxter ordered.
Ford struggled to bring the Explorer around. It was no small thing to take a ship that size and spin it around in the other direction, especially when it was moving at full impulse.
"We must have wandered into the heart of their territory," Tilleran said.
"That's nice," Conway mumbled. "Something tells me we won't be wandering out."
"They're gaining on us," Ford said worriedly. "And I'm squeezing everything we have out of these impulse engines."
"How long until we get out of the system?" Conway asked, tapping his feet nervously.
"Another minute!" Ford cried.
"They will be within weapons range in under thirty seconds," J'hana announced. "I am no mathematican, but…"
"Screw the system," Baxter said. "Hit the warp engines now!"
Ford punched in warp speed just as the first volley passed by the port warp nacelle, barely missing it as the Explorer shot into warp.
"Close one," Baxter sighed.
"Intriguing," Larkin noted from ops. "The Leeramar are sending squadrons of ships ahead of us at warp speed. We are being surrounded."
"How many ships, exactly?" Conway asked.
"Forty-three," Larkin said.
"Man, talk about overkill," Ford mumbled.
"Any ideas on how to get out of this?" Baxter asked, glancing at Conway.
Conway shrugged. "Short of begging for our lives? Nope."
"The first few squadrons are almost within weapons range," J'hana noted.
"Divert emergency power to shields and weapons," Conway ordered, crossing over to the engineering console.
Ford watched the swarm of oblong, multi-tiered, multi- nacelled, blue ships close in on the Explorer on screen. "It's like I'm driving a hovercab at rush hour," Ford muttered. Except every other "car" was going to try to kill them.
"Time to start driving defensively, Mr. Ford," Baxter said. "Is there any way we can outmaneuver all those ships?"
"Are you kidding me?" Ford asked, laughing nervously.
"Well, you'd better try anyway. We aren't going to shoot our way out of this!"
Suddenly beams of orange energy pounded the Explorer as it bobbed and weaved in through the mass of Leeramar ships.
Ford's hands danced over the helm console. Every maneuver he'd ever been taught rushed through his head. None of them prepared him for this. Every time he changed direction, another Leeramar ship would appear in his path. There was no way out of the tangle of ships.
So Ford did what any good helmsman would do. He pounded his fist into the helm console repeatedly until sparks flew out.
The Explorer shot forward, looping around one Leeramar ship, causing it to smash into two others. Then it flew over three more ships, narrowly weaving around their plasma beams.
"What's happening?" Baxter cried, gripping his command chair as the Explorer rattled through the fleet of Leeramar warships.
"Some kind of short in the helm controls!" Ford replied, his voice drowned out by the explosions that wracked the Explorer bridge.
"J'hana," Conway cried, pulling himself toward the tactical station. "We have to break through their defenses somehow!"
"That's just it, sir," J'hana said, staring at her console in disbelief. "We are breaking through their defenses!"
"Come again?" Baxter asked.
Ford had stopped steering minutes ago. He just stared through his fingers at the carnage on the viewscreen as the Explorer twisted and turned its way around the Leeramar fleet, until finally the melee on the screen gave way to open space…beautiful stars streaking by the screen. Peace.
Ford sighed, leaned back in his chair.
Baxter stood up and walked toward the front of the bridge, unable to believe his own eyes. "Are we out?"
"It would appear so," Larkin said.
Tilleran studied her panel. "They're not following us. It looks like we caused enough confusion in our escape to keep them occupied for quite a while."
"Well, well, Mr. Ford," Baxter said, resting his hands on Ford's chair. "You certainly picked a good time to put on a show for us."
"Yeah, ha ha," Ford said, dumbfounded.
"I'm not one to stay where I'm not welcomed," Baxter said, returning to his chair. "Increase our speed to Warp Nine and head for the Federation border."
"Right. Warp Nine," Ford said, searching the helm panel for a portion that wasn't burnt. He smacked the console a couple times and part of the panel lit up. "Come on," he said softly, "Please work." He stabbed a control, and amazingly, the helm responded, speeding the Explorer up to the requested Warp Nine.
"Must be your lucky day, huh, Ford?" Conway asked, clapping Ford on the back.
"Ha ha. Yeah. Lucky."
Captain's Log,
Stardate 53498.8. We're heading back toward Federation space after narrowly avoiding death at the hands of a rather large Leeramar fleet. Meanwhile, Mr. Ford's performance during the Leeramar attack appears to have caused more of a stir aboard ship than I first realized.
Lt. Ford tucked Starfleet Sex Kittens Weekly, his new padd from Porniverse, under his chin, and grabbed his piece of Melkotian bubbletoast out of the replicator. He hurryed out of his quarters, trying to zip up his uniform jacket at the same time.
When the doors slid open, he was greeted by a semicircle of clicking imagers and shouted out questions.
"How does it feel to be the first junior officer to re-write Starfleet piloting manuals?"
"What's it like to make the Starfleet Conn Officer Hall of Fame at only 25?"
"How soon until you get your own ship?"
"What do you think of the Romulan situation?"
Ford blinked a moment, tried to swallow a bite of his toast, and backed into his quarters. He took a deep breath. Too much Talarian scotch last night. That had to be it. He stepped back out his doors.
"Do you think they'll make you Captain of the Explorer?"
"Are you the next Hikaru Sulu?"
"If you had one wish, what would it be?"
"How did you guys get here so quick?" Ford asked, scratching his head and trying to hide his padd behind his back.
"We're members of the press," one of the reporters said. "We're paid to be EVERYWHERE!"
"This is ridiculous," Ford said, covering his face. He peered through his fingers to see a shortish, rather attractive woman with close-cut blonde hair staring up at him.
"Shannon Schroder, Federation News Service," she said primly. She seemed the most congenial of the mob that had encirlced Ford's quarters. "Forgive my friends here. They're from lesser news services!"
"Bite me, Schroder!" one of the other reporters muttered.
"Can we speak in private?" Schroder asked sweetly, batting her eyes at Ford.
"I'm about to go on duty," Ford said.
"Then I'll follow you up to the bridge," Schroder replied, gesturing to the tall man behind her, who was wearing the standard-issue head-mounted video camera. "Come on, Trevor."
Ford plodded toward the turbolift, glancing over his shoulder at Schroder, who was walking backwards and gesturing toward Ford.
"Despite popular belief, Zachary Ford is really just like any other Starfleet officer. He gets up at 0900 hours for his bridge shift, where at any time he may come up with another new maneuver. We're here to take you through an average day…if any day lived by the legendary Lt. Zack Ford can be called average!"
"Is all this really necessary?" Ford mumbled under his breath as he stepped into the turbolift.
Schroder smiled. "The people back on Earth eat this up, kid. Just act natural. The vidimager will do the rest."
Ford watched Schroder take notes as he munched on his toast and rode the turbolift up to the bridge. Evidently, news of his special "maneuver" had made it all the way across the Federation, and now he was reaping the benefits. Of course, he had no idea what his "maneuver" was. What was he supposed to tell these people? That he'd just smashed his fist into the helm controls? That would go over really well.
The doors to the bridge wheezed open, and Ford stepped out, surrounded by the same mob that had surrounded his quarters.
"What the–" Ford said. "How the hell did you guys get up here so fast?"
Captain Baxter shouldered through the crowd and looked Ford over. "Welcome to the bridge, your highness."
Ford leaned close to Baxter, and in a hushed voice, said, "Sir, what is this all about?"
Baxter shoved a padd into Ford's hands. "Here, let's switch. What do you have here?" Baxter paged through Ford's padd and smiled. "Well, well, well. I'll have to review this report very carefully."
Ford ignored Baxter. He read the lines on the padd Baxter gave him again and again. "The Starfleet Cross? They're giving me the Starfleet Cross?"
"And naming a maneuver after you," Conway said, looking askance at all the reporters. "A detachment of dignitaries, including Admiral McGrath and Federaton President Jaresh-Inyo himself, are on their way aboard the starship Salerno to present the medal. We'll rendez-vous with them in less than two days."
Ford smiled. "This is great. I really am famous!"
"And how does it feel, Mr. Ford?" Schroder asked sweetly. "Or may I call you Zack?"
"Um, sure," Ford said, shrugging. "It…it feels pretty good."
"Do you want to take the helm or should we just go ahead and give you the command chair?" Baxter asked wryly.
"The command chair!" the press people shouted enthusiastically.
"I didn't ask you!" Baxter snapped. "Be glad I let you on this ship to begin with, you little leeches!"
"Can we quote you on that?" one of the press people asked.
The press hounded Ford the rest of the afternoon as he monitored the Explorer's course, adjusted her deflectors so she could pass through an asteroid field, went down to Engineering to coordinate a re-fueling of the deuterium tanks on the impulse engines, and went to Yeoman Briggs for a haircut and styling.
By 1700 hours, Ford was already feeling the strain of fame. It really did take a lot out of a person to constantly answer questions, give interviews, and hold press conferences. By the time he got to the door to his quarters, he was more than ready to just pass out on the couch. He was enjoying all the attention, but enough was enough.
Ford unlocked the door to his quarters and stepped in, and immediately yelped in shock. "Ford to security! I have an intruder in my quarters!"
The reporter from the Galactic Inquirer was going through his drawers!
Before the reporter could extricate himself from the credenza in Ford's living room, the helm officer dragged him up by his shoulders and shoved him up against the wall. "What's the matter with you? Don't I get any privacy?"
"No, you don't," the reporter said flatly.
"Don't you see, Mr. Ford? You belong to the ages now!"
"The hell I do!" Ford said angrily. He glanced down at the floor. "My photo album!"
The reporter grinned as Ford scooped up the bound stack of padds. "You had quite an adventure on Rigel Three last year, didn't you?"
"You stay out of my stuff!" Ford said, shaking the padd that contained the picture of him riding on top of Leah Brahms' shoulders at the Daystrom Institute party he'd crashed in the reporter's face. "Or I'll personally shove this padd up your butt so far you'll need a transporter to get it out!"
"What seems to be the problem, spanky?" Lt. Gellar asked, stepping into Ford's quarters.
"This jerk was in my quarters rooting through my stuff!" Ford said angrily.
Gellar looked around Ford's cabin: Pornographic playdoh was spread everywhere, Ford's Vulcan romance padds and set of Tholian mating crystals were strewn across the floor, and his blowup poster of Lt. Uhura (circa 2266) was torn down.
"You're one of those press people?" Gellar asked, gesturing at the reporter with his phaser.
"Yes, sir. With the Galactic Inquirer."
"Well," Gellar said definitively, "I don't care what magazine you're with. You've invaded the privacy of an Explorer crewperson, one that happens to be my friend, and that puts you on my sh** list. So how about we take a walk down to the brig and see what we can investigate down there?"
"Hmm," the reporter said, staring down the barrel of Gellar's phaser. "I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Gellar shook his head. "Nope."
Ford patted Gellar on the back. "Thanks, Brian."
"No problem," Gellar said, leading the reporter out of the cabin at phaserpoint.
"What was your name again?" the reporter asked.
"Lieutenant Brian Gellar. That's with two l's."
Ford groaned and collapsed onto his couch. Fame was a capricious bitch, that much was certain.
Mirk scanned the Constellation Cafe's evening crowd. The crowd was definitely larger than normal. Filled with press people and the assorted space rubbish that went along with them. Ever since Ford's little performance during the Leeramar attack, small groups of Ford-watchers approached the Explorer in a rag-tag mass of ships, ranging from the exquisite to the barely operable. Space barges that were nearly the size of the Explorer, and transports barely bigger than an escape pod. All grouped in close formation around the Explorer. Personally, Mirk felt more comfortable with the Leeramar fleet.
"Bartender," a familiar voice said. "Give me a Talarian scotch."
Mirk looked up from his scrubbing. "Right away, Mister…"
"The name's Pete," the man said in a hushed voice. It was obviously Lt. Ford, with a badly positioned blonde wig, a fake mustache and sideburns, and sunglasses.
"Right, Pete," Mirk said, as he filled "Pete's" order. "Everyone's welcomed at Mirk's. Including those wishing to keep a low profile."
"Excuse me, sir," a dapper-looking man said, rushing up to the bar. "Would you happen to know where a Lt. Zack Ford is?"
"He should be in Cargo Bay Thirteen, twenty decks down," Mirk said.
"Thanks, you've been a real help."
"I try to be." Mirk waited for the man to leave, then turned to Ford. "Well, Mr. For…I mean Pete. It seems you've come a long way since you were last in here."
"You mean the sudden fame thing?" Ford asked. "Well, it sure does have its downfalls."
"The first of which being that you can't go out in public without a ridiculous get-up like this?"
"Yeoman Briggs reccomended this," Ford muttered.
"Yeoman Briggs wears something called 'bell-bottoms.' He's not exactly a fashion authority."
"He's the fashion authority now that people found out he's tailored some of my uniforms."
"Hmm, how things change," Mirk said, shaking his head.
"I just wish these people weren't hounding me all over the place."
"Fame like yours comes at a price, Pete."
"The price is too high."
"You should have thought of that before pulling the 'Ford Maneuver.'" Mirk made air quotes.
"I don't want to go into that," Ford said, and downed his drink.
"You have no idea what the Ford Maneuver is, do you?" Mirk asked, arching an eyebrow.
Ford blinked, cocked his head. "What are you, telepathic now?"
"No. I'm just a damn good bartender."
"Well, you're going to be a dead bartender if you bring that up to anyone," Ford seethed. "Get me?"
"The truth will come out no matter what you do," Mirk said, oblivious to Ford's threats. "It's just a matter of when and how."
"We'll see about that," Ford said, handing Mirk his glass. "Meantime, I have to find some way to live without these insane reporters watching my every move."
"Good luck, Lieutenant." Mirk shook his head as Ford made his way out of the Constellation Cafe. "You'll need it."
Lt. Hartley whistled a happy tune as she made her way down the corridor to Lt. Gellar's quarters. Their relationship had been going a lot better recently. At Hartley's reccomendation, Richards had begun dating Ensign Madera, ridding her of that complication. Gellar was under her control more than ever, and she was slowly getting used to being a transporter chief again. All in all, things were good.
"Computer, unlock door, authorization Hartley Omicron 095," Hartley said. She'd planned on using her security clearance to sneak up on Gellar just as he was getting off duty. Gellar was so predictable. Every night at 2200 he came back to his quarters, had a drink, then went to the hoverball courts. She decided she'd try to convince him that there were more interesting things he could do with his off-hours than playing hoverball.
As the doors to Gellar's quarters parted, Hartley stepped in. Steam was seeping from the direction of the bathroom. He was in the shower.
"Oh Mr. Man…" Hartley whispered, poking her head into the bathroom. "Wanna come out and play?"
"Huh?" a voice responded.
"Brian?"
The glass door to the shower flung open and Lt. Ford stuck his head out. "Megan?"
"AAAAAH!" Hartley shrieked and rushed out of the bathroom, skidding on a wet towel and flopping onto the ground.
Ford quickly wrapped himself in a towel and hurried out. "Megan …are you okay?"
"Ooooh, my back," Hartley moaned, rubbing the small of her back. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Brian agreed to let me hide out here until the reporters go away."
"He did, did he?" Hartley muttered, pushing Ford's hand away as she grabbed the edge of Gellar's desk and pulled herself up. "Well, we'll just see about that."
"Come on, Megan. It won't be that bad. It's just for another day, until President Inyo and the delegation of admirals arrives and I get my medal. I'm sure they'll leave after that."
Hartley narrowed her eyes at Ford. "And if they don't?"
"Then you'll have to get used to having two men in your life!" Ford grinned.
Hartley looked down in the general direction of Ford's towel. "I'm guessing more like one and a half."
"Har har. You know, I'd expect you to give a famous personality like myself a little more respect."
"Don't make me laugh," Hartley said, poking around Gellar's cabin. "Where the hell is Brian, anyway?"
"He's getting the last box from my quarters. I convinced him to do it since I can't risk being visible right now."
Hartley slumped onto Gellar's couch. "How gracious of him." She arched her head back so she could see out the transparent aluminum window behind Gellar's couch. Seeing the stars soothed her at times like this. Then she came face to face with a space- suited man pointing an imager at her.
"Son of a bitch!" Hartley cried, hopping off the couch and staring at the reporter, shaking her fist. "Come in here, buddy, so I can shove that imager right up your ass!"
"Yipes!" Ford cried, diving into the bathroom.
Hartley pushed up her sleeves and pressed the comm button on Gellar's desk. "I can handle this. This is no problem. I will enjoy handling this." She grinned pleasantly at the reporter as she talked: "Hartley to Engineering."
"Sanchez here."
"Mr. Sanchez, I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything for you, Megan."
"Reverse the polarity on shield grid 009-Alpha, Deck Seven."
"Why would you want me to do that?"
Hartley waved pleasantly at the reporter as he continued taking pictures. "Just do it, Paul."
"Right, sir."
And with a blue flash of light that filled Gellar's dim quarters the reporter was blown away from the window, spiraling into space.
"Darn, that must have hurt," Hartley said, fake-pouting. "Come on out, scaredy cat."
Ford crawled out of the bathroom. "Is he gone?"
Hartley frowned, folded her arms. "Yes. No thanks to you."
The doors to Gellar's quarters parted and Gellar stepped through, grunting under the weight of the cargo container full of clothes, padds, and other assorted memorabilia. "Are you sure you need all this?" Gellar grunted, plopping the container down onto the couch.
"Yep," Ford said. "Just the essentials."
"Mm hm."
"We have to talk," Hartley said, tapping her foot in annoyance.
Gellar didn't turn around. "Megan. How nice of you to drop by."
"Since you already have company, I guess I might as well get going," Hartley said, heading for the door. "Three being a crowd, and all…"
"No!" Gellar said, blocking Hartley's exit. "You were just leaving, weren't you Zack?"
"No," Ford said. "I have to keep a low profile."
"Then we'll go to your quarters," Gellar said to Hartley. "How's that? That way Ford can be alone with his thoughts…and you and I can be alone with…our thoughts."
Hartley touched Gellar's nose ever so slightly. "Or you and Ford can be alone with your thoughts."
"Ha ha."
"Bye, Brian." Hartley pushed past Gellar and stepped through the doors. "We can resume after Sulu there moves back into his quarters."
It was too late; Hartley was already gone. Gellar and Ford could hear her laughing all the way down the corridor.
"So," Ford said, wrapping an arm around Gellar. "I think I packed some excellent vid chips in there. How does Nude Orion Slave Girl Detective Agency sound? We can stick the chip in, eat some popcorn, have a beer. Just us guys."
"Right. Just us guys. Whoopee," Gellar said, collapsing onto his couch.
The next morning, the mob of reporters was up bright and early, exploring every facet of the Explorer.
"And this would be Main Engineering," Shannon Schroder said, walking backwards into the cavernous Engineering compartment, as her cameraman soaked in the surroundings. "The heart of the Explorer. Its guts, one might say."
As she approached the master systems display, she turned to look at Lt. Commander Richards, who was hunched over some kind of schematic, reviewing it with Ensign Stuart.
"This is Lt. Commander Christopher Richards," Schroder said brightly. "I take it you oversee the Explorer's engine and power needs?"
"That's right, Shannon," Richards said, turning and smiling into the camera. "She's a big ship, and it takes a big man to keep her running."
"What were you doing when the Ford Maneuver was first brought into action?" Schroder asked excitedly.
"Well, usually a Chief Engineer's place is here in Main Engineering, but at taht time…I was, well, indisposed."
"Can you elaborate?" Schroder asked.
"I was…reviewing some data."
Ensign Stuart stuck his head in between Richards and Schroder, to get on camera. "He was in the bathroom."
"I see," Schroder said, jotting that down on her padd. "How interesting."
"Stuart!" Richards seethed. "I was in the bathroom fixing something."
"So you're also the ship's plumber?"
"No, that's not it at all…" Richards said, turning to the camera. "Listen, everybody has to go at some point, right? That's why there are bathrooms."
"But during a firefight?" Schroder posed.
"When nature calls, you must answer it," Richards said boldly.
"Very poignant," Schroder said. "Now let's continue on up to the bridge."
Richards touched Schroder's shoulder as she turned to leave. "Hey, Ms. Schroder. Do you think we could reshoot that? Without the bathroom comment?"
"Sorry!" Schroder said. "That was a live subspace feed. Half the Federation saw it."
"Damn," Richards said, turning on Stuart as Schroder and the cameraman left Engineering. "Ensign…we must talk."
Commander Conway sat stiffly in the command chair as Schroder's cameraman filmed him. "I've known Mister Ford for two and a half years."
"Go on," Schroder urged. "What can you tell us about Mr. Ford?"
Conway shifted uncomfortably. "He is a good officer."
"Um. He knows his helm. Reacts well in a pinch. A little on the smart-alecky side, but then again, aren't all good helm officers?" Everything Conway said was at the same, dull, stiff pitch. It was obvious Conway wasn't comfortable in front of an imager.
"So you'd say you enjoy having Ford under your command?"
"Yes," Conway said slowly. "Yes, I, uh…would."
Schroder rolled her eyes, turned back to the camera and flashed a big smile. "Isn't that great. Coming up, we'll hear some first-hand anecdotes from Lieutenant Ford's fellow crewmates and get a special interview with Andy Baxter, the Starship Explorer's captain. But first, a word from our sponsors."
"And we're clear," Trevor said, flicking off his head-mounted imager.
"Well, how was I?" Conway asked, rubbing his sweaty palms on the armrests.
"Excellent," Schroder deadpanned, then muttered under her breath, "but don't consider going into acting."
Schroder slid into the seat normally occupied by Counselor Peterman and began to jot some information down on her padd.
Meanwhile, another reporter peered over J'hana's panel, inspecting it with intense interest. "What is this panel again, ma'am?"
"Tactical," J'hana huffed.
"And that would make you…"
"The tactical officer, if you must know."
"Rewarding work?"
"It is adequate."
The reporter glanced over J'hana's panel some more and jotted down some notes. "Intriguing."
J'hana watched the reporter work with barely restrained anger, then, finally, her patience gave way. "Please step away from my panel. The Explorer's defensive capabilities are classified."
"I'm not a spy. I just want to get a clear idea of what all these systems do."
"If you do not step away from my panel now, I will use force to remove you from the bridge."
"Uh-huh. I'll just be another…"
"I warned you." J'hana picked the reporter up by the back of his jacket and carried him over to the port side turbolift, dumping him in. "Bottom of the ship, voice override J'hana Gamma 901."
Before the reporter could climb to his feet, the doors swung shut and the turbolift began its descent.
J'hana hovered behind Conway. "This situation is becoming intolerable."
"No kidding," Conway muttered. "But there's not much we can do about it. Free speech and all."
"A flawed concept. If I was in charge, I would shove each and every reporter out an airlock. They are affecting the crew's ability to perform."
"Come on, J'hana, you know you're just jealous that there isn't a 'J'hana Maneuver.'"
J'hana returned to her station, and in a low voice, huffed, "There could be."
"I think I'm going insane, Andy," Counselor Peterman said, angrily digging into her salad as Mirk came by to refill her iced tea.
"That would be bad," Baxter said, chewing thoughtfully on his hamburger. "Considering you're the Ship's Counselor, I mean."
"No kidding," Peterman said, taking a long sip of iced tea. "This morning has been absolutely horrible. Ensign Sefelt is convinced that he's allergic to air, Lt. Hartley can't stand the fact that Lt. Ford is living with Lt. Gellar, Lt. Commander Richards is still broken up about him and Janice, Lt. J'hana is upset that no one thought to name a maneuver after her, and of course your parents had to stop by and try to apologize about the other night…and on top of all that, Charlie has developed a new rash!"
Baxter shrugged. "I guess some days are better than others."
"Most of our problems are stemming from Lt. Ford's newfound fame, you realize."
"You'd think he'd be enjoying it."
"None of us are enjoying it. We have reporters combing every square centimeter of this ship. No one is getting any work done and everyone's edgy. Things were easier when all we had to worry about were cults, the Dawg, and the Leeramar."
"I think that may be an exaggeration."
"At least the Leeramar don't bump into you in the corridor and call you a 'space-babe.'"
"Space-babe?" Baxter arched an eyebrow. "Someone did that to you?"
"No, they did it to Charlie. Of course they did it to me!" Peterman stabbed her lettuce ruefully. "Andy, you have to get those reporters off this ship."
"We can't do a thing about it, honey. It's good PR to have these guys aboard, and we have to seem as welcoming as possible."
"Well, I won't be held accountable if I bash one of their heads in."
Baxter grinned. "I'll look the other way." The Captain reached across the counter and took Peterman's hands. "Kelly, listen, you won't have to worry about these reporters for much longer. President Inyo and his delegation will be arriving early this evening, Ford will get his stupid medal, the reporters will leave, and we can return to worrying about how to defeat my parents."
"I guess you're right," Peterman said. "You always have a way of putting things into perspective, Andy."
"Well, I…"
"Captain Baxter…" Shannon Schroder said cheerfully, approaching Baxter's table. "Is it okay if we do that interview now?"
"We're trying to eat lunch," Peterman said, struggling to be polite.
"I was actually almost finished," said Baxter, grinning at Schroder. "How about I meet you in the lounge across the corridor in five minutes?"
"Sounds great," Schroder said, turning on a heel and heading out of the Cafe.
"I can see why the Federation News Service hired her. She's very nice," Baxter said, as Peterman turned a dark look on him.
"Well, now I see why you don't mind these reporters."
"It's not like that at all, Kelly. You're being silly." Baxter backed out of his chair. "I kind of like having the Explorer in the galactic spotlight. I'd say it's about time, really. We've battled half-cyborg canines, traveled through time, resurrected an aging weight-loss guru, and saved the quadrant from Flarn. And the only thing we'll ever be noted for is the Ford Maneuver."
Peterman sighed. "I'll gaurantee you it's something Ford didn't expect."
Baxter shrugged. "Oh well, I'm off to my interview. Wish me luck, hon."
"Good luck," Peterman said, then slid down in her chair as Baxter walked away. "Ford Maneuver my ass."
Lt. Ford fussed with his dress uniform. "I hate this idea."
"What, getting a medal for coming up with that maneuver?" Gellar asked, adjusting his own dress uniform.
"Yes. Sooner or later someone is going to ask the wrong question and people will figure out that the 'Ford Maneuver,' is just pounding the control panel until sparks come out."
Gellar nodded. "It's amazing that someone hasn't asked you a technical question yet. Sooner or later someone will ask you what exactly you did."
"I know. My luck can only last so long."
"Well, whatever the case, it's been a good ride," Gellar said evenly, checking his hair.
"It has not," Ford said. "It's been a horrible ride. I've been hounded, spied on, poked at, and prodded…in a bad way, for the last two days. I've had none of the good things that are supposed to be associated with fame like sex and loud music."
"I don't know what to tell you, Zack," Gellar said, shrugging.
"Tell me this is all a horrible dream."
Before Gellar could reply, Ford's comm badge chirped:
"Baxter to Ford. President Inyo's Starship has just rendez- voused with us. We're convening in the Main Auditorium in twenty minutes for the awards ceremony, after which we'll be having a catered buffet dinner."
"Understood," Ford said woefully. "Come on, Brian. It's time for me to face the music."
Gellar rubbed his hands together eagerly, following Ford out of the room. "This is going to be good. It's almost worth having Megan mad at me. What am I saying? Nothing's worth that!"
"I hate dressing up for these stupid functions." Commander Conway tugged at the collar of his dress uniform as he stood up on stage, watching the other senior officers line up beside him. One by one, Lt. Commander Larkin, Lt. J'hana, Lt. Tilleran, Lt. Gellar, Lt. Hartley, Lt. Commander Richards, Dr. Browning, and Counselor Peterman took their places.
"Then you went into the wrong business, Commander," Captain Baxter said, studying his padd carefully. "Personally, I enjoy rubbing elbows with the Starfleet brass every once and awhile."
"I'll give you brass," Conway grumbled.
"Now, now, Commander. I want you on your best behavior," Baxter whispered. "Everyone in the quadrant will be watching this."
Conway looked out at the sea of crewpersons, reporters, and dignitaries that packed the auditorium. None of that did anything to lessen his nerves. And if that all wasn't bad enough, he'd also had six cups of coffee in the last hour, so his hands were trembling.
"All right, everyone," Baxter said quietly, as the huge doors to the auditorium opened up. "Here they come."
A string of Admirals, led by Admiral McGrath, strode down the aisle toward the stage. Behind them, President Inyo walked much slower, waving to the crowd and shaking hands.
"Mr. Briggs," said Baxter, "cue the music…"
A spotlight shone on Briggs in a white tux at the left side of the stage. Briggs's musical selection, "Big Shot," by Billy Joel, played on, with Briggs chanting new lyrics:
You had to be a big shot, didn't you,
You had to prove it to the crowd.
The Ford Maneuver knocked us out!
You saved us from a bad fight, last night,
You're so much fun to be around.
You had to save the ship from a fright,
You had to be a big shot last night!
"What kind of crap is this?" Conway whispered.
"Don't ask me. Just go along with it," Baxter snapped.
The group of dignitaries climbed up onstage and took a position in front of the line of chairs in front of Baxter's senior staff, as the lights came back up strong on the full stage and Briggs retreated behind the curtain.
"Well, I guess we should begin," Baxter said, stepping out in front of the group and taking the podium. "Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Explorer. We're glad to have you here to celebrate the excellence of one of our finest officers." Baxter ignored the gutteral sounds that were coming from behind him, most likely from the direction of Conway, Hartley and J'hana. "Without further ado, I'd like to present to you Lieutenant Zachary Ford!"
As if on his way to execution, Lt. Ford stepped warily out onto the stage. As soon as he appeared, the assembly broke out into cheers.
"Hi, everyone," he said sheepishly.
"And now, Admiral Frank McGrath," Baxter said, gesturing to McGrath and returning to his place next to Commander Conway.
Admiral McGrath stood up, taking the podium.
"Thank you for that introduction, Captain Baxter," McGrath said. "Since the Explorer project was launched a year and a half ago, I've begun doubting its validity. Sure, these people can explore space. All you need is a big computer to do that. But when your mettle is really tested, in the heat of battle…what then? Well, I'd like to tell you that the Explorer has at least one officer that is up to the challenge. Lieutenant Zachary Ford." McGrath turned toward Ford and clapped his hands, and the audience did the same.
Ford shifted his weight as the crowd continued cheering. He could hear J'hana growling. Suddenly, the auditorium felt extremely hot.
McGrath continued. "As you all know by now, Lt. Ford was single-handedly responsible for getting the Explorer out of an engagement with a fleet of forty-three Leeramar battleships. Against those odds, is it any wonder we're giving him the Starfleet Cross?"
"Is that what we're giving him?" President Inyo asked, scratching his head.
"Uhm, yes," McGrath said weakly. "Anyway, let's cut to the chase and give Mr. Ford his due. President Inyo, if you'll please do the honors…"
Inyo rose and took the podium next to Admiral McGrath. "Certainly. Um…" he leaned toward McGrath and whispered, "where is it?"
"I thought you had it," McGrath said between clinched teeth, smiling out at the audience.
Baxter quickly rushed in between McGrath and Inyo, ducking under the podium. "It's right here, sirs. Inside the podium."
"Give me that," McGrath snapped, grabbing the slick duranium case and handing it to Inyo. He turned back toward the microphone. "And now, President Inyo…"
"Greetings, crew of the Excalibur," Inyo said brightly.
"Explorer," McGrath seethed. "This is the starship Explorer!"
"Right, Explorer," Inyo corrected himself. "I present to you, the Starfleet Cross." Inyo opened the case and showed the medal to the audience.
McGrath cringed. "It's upside down, sir."
Inyo sighed. "Whatever." He turned toward Ford, who'd been teetering nervously on the stage ever since he'd come on. "Mr. Ford, I am proud to name you one of Starfleet's finest officers. And as such, you receive this very special faux-latinum medal and a decorative basket full of assorted fruits and cheeses which is…" Inyo glanced over his shoulder.
Dr. Browning was shoving a large hunk of cheese in her mouth. She glared at Inyo. "What? What is everyone looking at?" Browning kicked the empty basket behind the curtains.
"I mean, this very special faux-latinum medal…and that's it."
"Gee, thanks," Ford mumbled, as Inyo pulled out the medal and draped it over his head.
"Do you want to say something or can I get out of here?" Inyo whispered, "these pants are riding."
Ford struggled with the medal's strap, which Inyo had messily tangled about his neck. "I…"
Then the auditorium deck thundered under the crew's feet, the lights flickered, and Ensign Sefelt's voice crackled over the comm system.
"All hands, this is Ensign Howard Sefelt, bridge duty officer. We're being attacked by a squadron of Leeramar battleships…and my pulse just increased by two beats per minute…GOD HELP ME!"
"Sheesh." Peterman rolled her eyes.
Baxter grabbed her arm. "Come on. Let's get to the bridge."
Baxter, Ford, McGrath, Inyo, and the rest of the senior staff fought their way through the melee that ensued in the auditorium, pushing toward the door.
"Captain coming through, captain coming through…make way!" Baxter barked, pushing press and dignitaries aside, as more hits cracked against the Explorer, rattling the room.
"Is this an earthquake?" Inyo asked, as security officers encircled him and the admirals.
McGrath grimaced. "No, Mr. President. We're in space."
"Oh, right."
Like a herd of cattle, crowds of people squeezed through the Explorer's corridors as the alert klaxons wailed, Baxter and his staff leading the way.
When he reached the turbolift, Baxter turned around, flanked by his senior officers. "Listen, everybody! We're at Red Alert, here. The senior staff is needed on the bridge. The rest of you need to stay down here. What do you all think? That all 200 of us will ride this turbolift all the way up to the bridge and everyone will get to see the fighting first hand?"
The crowd was silent a moment. Someone said. "Uh…yes?"
"Well, forget about it. Lt. Gellar will lead you all back to the auditorium and you can see all the action on our super big screen."
"I will?" Gellar asked meekly.
"Go!" Baxter ordered, turning toward the opening turbolift doors and leading his senior staff in.
"Get out from under there, Ensign Sefelt," Ensign Saral called out, firing the Explorer's weapons as two of Leeramar battleships closed in on the viewscren.
Ensign Sefelt had curled himself under the command chair in a fetal position, muttering something about the air recycling system over and over again.
"Report," Baxter barked, as he and the bridge staff, followed by Admiral McGrath and President Inyo, poured out of the turbolift.
"Four Leeramar battleships came out of warp off our port bow and began an attack, sir. The Salerno took heavy damage, two of the press ships were destroyed, and Mr. Sefelt is nearly catatonic."
"Very well," Baxter said, leading McGrath and Inyo toward the front of the bridge. "Mr. Ford, take the helm. Mr. President, Admiral McGrath, have a seat."
"They're taking our seats!" Conway said, stepping up behind the command chairs.
"Be quiet," Peterman commanded, kneeling down and beckoning for Sefelt to come out from under the command chair. "Come on, Howard. This is no time to go into a 'me' phase!"
"J'hana, load up the quantums and fire a full spread," Baxter commanded, as Sefelt squirmed under him. "Try to take out the two lead ships."
"Thank goodness we have Lt. Ford with us," President Inyo said fearfully.
Ford lowered his head as he swung the Explorer around three of the attacking ships, allowing J'hana a clear line of fire at the fourth. He had a bad feeling about what was coming up.
"There are too many ships for us to fend off at one time!" Lt. Tilleran cried out.
Baxter nodded grimly. "I think it's time for the Ford Maneuver."
"Ugh…" Ford moaned, squirming in his chair. He was afraid of this. "Captain, I…"
"No buts, Mr. Ford!" Baxter barked. "We need the Ford Maneuver now!"
"All right, all right." Ford cracked his knuckles and stared down at the helm console. "Here we go…"
He slammed his hands down on the helm console, tapping in random commands, hoping one of them would reproduce the maneuver he pulled earlier.
Sure enough, the Explorer surged forward, slamming into one of the sleek Leeramar vessels and then backing into the one behind it.
Everyone was tossed haphazardly about the bridge as the pitch of the alarms grew more urgent. A valve busted above Richards's head, spewing gas.
"We just lost the third and fourth lateral power conduits!" Richards called out. "We also have buckling on the forward and rear ventral hull plates!"
"Unorthodox, but it worked," observed Inyo.
J'hana piped up. "Two of the Leeramar vessels are badly damaged. The other two are locking onto them with tractor beams and towing them away."
"They don't want to risk leaving any of their ships for us to study," McGrath reasoned. "And they never gave us a reason for refusing our requests for a diplomatic summit."
"They are not very personable," Inyo added.
"Well, I for one am not letting them get away without an explanation. Open a channel, J'hana," Baxter said, standing up and straightening his uniform.
"Aye, sir." J'hana went to work at her panel. "No response. Shall I use a special hailing maneuver?"
Baxter glared back at J'hana. "Shut up, Lieutenant."
McGrath and Inyo strode up to Ford's place at helm. He turned around and grinned at them weakly. Then he looked at Baxter, Peterman, Larkin, J'hana and the rest of the bridge crew. He could tell by their dark expressions that they had all pretty much deduced that his maneuver was purely random.
"Marvelous," Inyo said, clapping hands down on Ford's shoulders. "You saved the Explorer again."
"You'll be even more famous," McGrath said. "You've saved the ship twice, in two days!"
Shannon Schroder slid out from a nearby Jeffries tube, Trevor following after. "Can I quote you on that?"
"J'hana, get them off the bridge!" Baxter grumbled.
Ford looked up at McGrath and Inyo. Looked over at Schroder and her cameraman as they were dragged into a turbolift. Months filled with days like the last few days flashed through his mind.
"It was luck," Ford finally said.
McGrath blinked. "What?"
"I just pressed some random buttons on the helm console," Ford said. "And earlier, I just pounded my fist into it. It was pure luck that our ship wasn't totally destroyed."
J'hana huffed. Baxter rolled his eyes. Peterman smiled weakly and gave Ford "thumbs up."
"Well," McGrath said. "I guess we'd better get back to the Salerno and take stock of the damage."
"Good idea," Inyo muttered, leading McGrath back to the turbolift.
Once those two were gone, Baxter hovered behind Ford expectantly. "Contrary to what you might think, I'm not going to berate you about this, Mr. Ford."
"You're not?"
Baxter shook his head. "I expect you'll be doing enough of that to yourself in the coming days, and that's certainly satisfaction enough for me."
Several minutes later, the line of admirals hurried onto the transporter pad, passing by Captain Baxter and his entire bridge staff.
Inyo followed after, stopping when he came to Lt. Ford. He ripped the medal off Ford's neck. "I'll take that."
"I'm sorry, Mr. President," Ford said quietly.
"Get me off this ship," Inyo muttered, stomping up to the transporter pad.
Baxter wiped a hand over his face, looking away from the gloomy scowl that Admiral McGrath was shooting his way. "Energize, Lt. Hartley." Once everyone vanished from the transporter pad, the senior staff began trailing out of the room, off to their various duties. "Dinner?" Baxter asked, putting an arm around Peterman and leading her out of the transporter room.
"Sounds good," Peterman replied. She looked back over her shoulder at Ford. "I'll get in touch with you tomorrow, Mr. Ford."
Conway slapped Ford on the back of his head as he filed out. "So will I."
Ford gulped.
"Ford Maneuver. Hah," J'hana chortled, following the rest of the bridge crew out of the transporter room.
Ford remained there, not sure what to do next.
"Well, there go your fifteen minutes of fame, Mr. Ford," Hartley said wryly, leaning against her console. "Hope you enjoyed them."
"Not really," Ford said, shuffling out of the transporter room.
As he made his way back to his quarters, Ford ran into Yeoman Huffmann.
"Hey, Lt. Ford," Huffmann said, jogging to catch up to Ford. "I heard about your little embarrasment up on the bridge. Sorry to hear about it."
"Yeah, me too."
"Maybe it's time you came up with a new maneuver."
Ford grinned and reached out his hand. "You mean like this one?"
"OOOOOOF!" Ford winced as Huffmann's knee was thrust up into his crotch.
Maybe I should forget about new maneuvers all together, Ford thought, as he hit the deck.
COMING UP NEXT:
When Kris Larkin, Lt. Commander Larkin's human counterpart, vanishes, Commander Richards and his android must search for her. What they find is a blast from the past, and a key to the diplomatic trouble the Explorer is handling on the homeworld of a…particularly flighty species from the Secondprize past. Sound complicated? That's because it's the next full-length Star Traks: The Vexed Generation book, "Birds of a Feather." Coming in 1 to 2 weeks!!
Tags: vexed
Anthony Butler • 2022 • www.star-traks.com


I like baking with new recipes so when I found a cookie recipe with chocolate and blueberries, I was quite excited.
So excited that I might have even dreamed about it.
I had a few issues while making these cookies.
Not huge problems... more like little road blocks.
I had to make some detours.
Issue #1: I was 1/4 cup short of butter.
Solution: I topped it up with shortening.
Shortening lacks the big of a taste of butter but my version was still pretty good.
I'm 99% sure that people didn't even notice.
These cookies baked at 375 for 12 minutes. Notice the height?
Issue #2: I did not have a full cup of white chocolate.
Solution: I added in some semi sweet chocolate chips.
Issue #3: The high cookies dried out pretty quick.
On the second day, they were like rocks.
Those tough cookies were putting up quite the fight.
Solution: I baked these cookies at 350 for 10 minutes.
Flatter and chewy. More normal.
Mix all wet ingredients in one bowl. Mix all dry in the other. Add dry to wet and add the fancy add-ins.
Roll into balls and place on ungreased cookie sheets.
Bake at 375 for 10-12 minutes, or until the tops start to turn golden.
Bake at 350 for 10 minutes, or until the tops start to turn golden.
It seems like you met your obstacles with grace and sill! These cookies look and sound amazing. I adore white chocolate, so whenever I see a cookie recipe with those chips in it...I get especially excited. Thank you for sharing with me...I hope you have a wonderful week of feasting, friends and family!
I love the ingredients in these, so unique!


text:
Inside My Head
Here, I unpack my thoughts on what inspires, disturbs, excites, or angers me — whether it's sports, politics, or pop culture.
Tag: Supreme Court
#RIPRBG
By Terrance Turner
Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has died. She was 87.
The cause was complications from pancreatic cancer, the Court announced. Ginsburg valiantly fought colon cancer in 1999, early-stage pancreatic cancer in 2009, lung cancer in 2018, and another bout of pancreatic cancer in 2019. Just last May, she was hospitalized for a gallbladder condition but continued to hear oral arguments from her hospital bed.
Ginsburg died at her home in Washington, D.C., surrounded by family, according to CNN. Her departure leaves open a vacancy on the Supreme Court; Judge Amy Coney Barrett. But more importantly, her death represents a loss for the nation — the loss of a groundbreaking cultural icon who inspired two high-profile films and in recent years was dubbed "The Notorious RBG". Her remarkable life was capped by a 27-year tenure on the Supreme Court — the longest ever by a woman.
She was born Joan Ruth Bader in Brooklyn, New York, on March 15, 1933. She grew up in Flatbush, NY, according to the New York Times. Her parents were immigrants and haberdashers who were often short on money. Tragedy struck early: her only sister died of meningitis when Joan Ruth was just 14 months old. She was raised as an only child and later said she grew up "with the smell of death."
In her memoir In My Own Words, it was revealed that when Joan Ruth went to elementary school, there were several other girls named Joan in her class. Her mother suggested that her daughter be called Ruth to avoid confusion. So she was.
Ruth's mother Celia never went to college, but was determined to make sure that her daughter would. She stored away money her husband gave her so that young Ruth could attend college. The fund eventually reached $8,000, per the Washington Post. Ruth ended up going to college on a scholarship. But her mother didn't live to see that. Celia Bader died of cancer in 1950, the day before Ruth graduated from high school. She was unable to attend the ceremony.
Nevertheless, she persisted.
Ruth Bader went to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York. While still a freshman in 1950, she met a sophomore named Martin Ginsburg. They met on a blind date and hit it off immediately; Mr. Ginsburg "was the only boy I ever met who cared that I had a brain," she said. They began dating more seriously. By her junior year, the two were engaged.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg on her wedding day in 1954.
(Photo via Reddit.)
They married in 1954, after she graduated at the top of her class. The marriage would last 56 years. "I have had more than a little luck in life, but nothing equals in magnitude than my marriage to Martin D. Ginsburg," she wrote in her memoirs. "I do not have words to describe my super-smart, exuberant, ever-loving spouse."
The Ginsburgs in 1954. (Photo courtesy of Supreme Court.)
The couple moved to Lawton, Oklahoma shortly after the marriage (he got drafted to the Army). During Mr. Ginsburg's two-year stint, Mrs. Ginsburg applied for a civil service job. According to the Washington Post, she came close to landing a job in the Social Security office. But she was demoted when she revealed she was pregnant. (Ruth Bader Ginsburg gave birth to her daughter Jane in 1955). Instead, she took a lower-paying job as a typist.
After Martin Ginsburg was discharged from the Army in 1956, he and his wife moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts, per the Post. Mrs. Ginsburg enrolled at Harvard. She was one of only nine women (out of 500 students) in the Harvard Law School. And she became the first woman in the Harvard Law Review. (In those days, the dean expected each of the female students to argue why they belonged at Harvard in the place of a man. Mrs. Ginsburg said that the school would better help her understand her husband's job.) She later transferred to Columbia University Law School after her husband found a job in Manhattan. He went on to become a tax lawyer.
Mrs. Ginsburg graduated in 1959, tied for first in her class — without one job offer from a New York law firm. "I struck out on three grounds — I was Jewish, a woman, and a mother," the Washington Post quotes her as saying. She took a job as clerk for a federal judge in Manhattan. But soon she had another obstacle to contend with: Martin Ginsburg was diagnosed with aggressive testicular cancer. The prognosis was poor; he was debilitated by radiation treatments. Other students (his classmates) took notes on his behalf, and Mrs. Ginsburg typed them up so that her husband could study. Mr. Ginsburg eventually recovered and graduated on time. Later, he would become her caretaker as Mrs. Ginsburg battled cancer several times.
From 1963 to 1970, she worked on a project regarding Swedish civil law. The project required her to spend time in Sweden and learn Swedish. But it also forced her to confront changing social mores. Feminism was in the air. Child care was available in Sweden, and women balanced both career and family. Mrs. Ginsburg noticed that — and an article by editor Eva Moberg: "We ought to stop harping on the concept of women's two roles," she wrote. "Both men and women have one principal role, that of being people."
In 1971, Ginsburg began volunteering with the American Civil Liberties Union on sex discrimination cases. A pivotal case was Reed v. Reed (1971), which dealt with estate law. The case concerned a married couple — Richard Reed and Sally Reed — who were separated. Their son had committed suicide with his father's rifle, and both parties were fighting for control of his estate. Mr. Reed was automatically named executor. The decision was based on an Idaho statute that preferred males over females in estate ownership. Per Thought Catalog, the state code literally said "males must be preferred to females" (Section 15-314).
Mrs. Ginsburg and lawyers successfully argued that the statute was discriminatory; the Court agreed. In a unanimous ruling, the Supreme Court ruled that the Idaho law violated the Equal Protections Clause of the Constitution's 14th Amendment. It was the first U.S. Supreme Court case to declare sex/gender discrimination a violation of the 14th Amendment. Ginsburg's 88-page brief for the case was an inventory of all the ways that the law reinforced the oppression of women. It became known as the "grandmother brief," according to the New York Times, and feminist lawyers drew on it for years.
In 1972, Ginsburg left Rutgers for Columbia Law School, becoming the first woman to have a tenured position there. That same year, the ACLU formed its Women's Rights Project and hired Ginsburg as its first director. She argued six cases before the Supreme Court between 1973 and 1979; she won five of them, according to ABC News.
One of those victories was a landmark case called Weinberger v. Wiesenfeld (1975). Stephen Wiesenfeld became a widower after his wife died in childbirth. He became the sole provider for their newborn son Jason. To help care for his baby son, Wiesenfeld was seeking Social Security survivor's benefits. He was denied because federal law allowed benefits for widows, but not widowers (per Reuters). Ginsburg successfully argued on his behalf, asserting that the Social Security Act's provision was discriminatory. The Court agreed, finding that the provision violated the Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment.
The Washington Post notes that Wiesenfeld eventually sold his bicycle shop so that he could care for Jason and collect the benefits. But he and Ginsburg stayed in touch. In fact, when Stephen Wiesenfeld remarried in 2014 — at the age of 71 — Ruth Bader Ginsburg performed the ceremony! (She also officiated at the Florida wedding of his son Jason.)
In 1980, President Jimmy Carter appointed Ginsburg to the U.S. Court of Appeals, where she spent 13 years. She wrote hundreds of opinions there. While serving in her post, she became friends with the conservative justice Antonin Scalia, who was also on the Court. The unlikely friendship would last for decades; despite their sharply divergent views, the two often met for dinner (cooked by Mr. Ginsburg, who playfully described his wife as a terrible cook). Scalia and Ginsburg even appeared as extras in a Washington National Opera production in 1994. By then, her life had changed dramatically.
In 1993, President Bill Clinton appointed Ruth Bader Ginsburg to the Supreme Court of the United States. The appointment was somewhat contentious. activists took issue with a 1984 speech in which she criticized the landmark ruling of Roe v. Wade (1973). Ginsburg felt that the ruling was too sweeping, too broad; she felt the Court should've simply overturned the Texas abortion law that was at issue, per the Post. The Times cited a 1993 speech just months before her nomination in which Ginsburg said that the ruling "halted a political process that was moving in a reform direction [and] prolonged divisiveness and deferred stable settlement of the issue." The Times countered that the "reform" process had already ground to a halt — thanks to lobbying by the Catholic Church — and that divisiveness and backlash around the ruling had been stirred up by Republican strategists. Nonetheless, Mrs. Ginsburg made clear to the Senate Judiciary Committee that her support for abortion rights was indubitable.
Still, some women's groups and abortion activists were bothered by the comments and worked quietly to oppose her nomination. But Ginsburg had a powerful ally. The Post reports that Martin Ginsburg launched a campaign for his wife's appointment; it included "a torrent of letters and telephone calls to the White House that prompted Clinton to give her a second look." Mrs. Ginsburg was also popular with the public, and Clinton eventually decided to offer her the job.
Bill Clinton had several reasons for his decision. "She was brilliant and had a good head on her shoulders. She was rigorous but warm-hearted. I thought she had the ability to find common ground in a country increasingly polarized," ABC News quotes Clinton as saying of Ginsburg. "In short, I liked her and believed in her."
Ruth Bader Ginsburg was confirmed by the Senate by a vote of 96-3 on Aug. 3, 1993. Upon taking the job, she delivered a speech at the Rose Garden and paid tribute to her late mother. The Times said President Clinton was moved to tears by the tribute. "It is to my mother, Celia Amster Bader, the bravest and strongest woman I have ever known," Ginsburg said. "I pray that I may be all that she would have been had she lived in an age when women could aspire and achieve and daughters are cherished as much as sons."
Ruth Bader Ginsburg delivers a speech at the Rose Garden after becoming a Supreme Court Justice in 1993. (Photo from ABC News.)
Over the course of her 27-year career, Ginsburg heard a slew of notable cases. One of the most important cases, she said, was United States v. Virginia (1996). The Virginia Military Institute had a males-only admissions policy. It claimed that its physically challenging curriculum was unsuitable for women. Ginsburg disagreed: "Neither the goal of producing citizen soldiers nor VMI's implementing methodology is inherently unsuitable to women," she wrote. "Women seeking and fit for a V.M.I.-quality education cannot be offered anything less under the state's obligation to afford them genuinely equal protection," she wrote, quoted by the Times. The Court agreed; Ginsburg was joined by five other justices in her majority opinion. Together, they found that the males-only admissions process violated the 14th Amendment.
Another pivotal ruling came in Olmstead v. L.C. (1999). Ginsburg delivered the majority opinion, which affirmed the rights of those with disabilities to receive state-funded support and services in their communities. The Court ruled that, per the Americans with Disabilities Act (1990), states were required to place people with mental disabilities in community settings instead of designated institutions. According to Justia.com, that decision rested on two principles: 1) Unjustified placement or retention of persons in institutions severely limits their exposure to the outside community; 2) To avoid unjustified isolation of people with disabilities, states can resist modifications that would fundamentally change their programs and services.
An even more impactful ruling came via Bush v. Gore (2000). The close election between George W. Bush and Al Gore came down to Florida, where the vote was initially too close to call. The margin of victory for Bush was so small that it triggered a recount. After the recount, the victory margin shrunk from 1784 to a mere 327. Democrats requested recounts in four counties; Bush sued in court to stop the recounts. Gore sued after Bush was declared the winner by 537 votes, according to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. The case made it all the way to the Supreme Court. The court ruled 5-4 that the recounts must stop, thus making Bush the president-elect.
"I dissent," Ginsburg wrote. "I cannot agree that the recount adopted by the Florida court, flawed as it may be, would yield a result any less fair or precise [than a certification]." Nevertheless, the Court's ruling allowed the previous vote count to stand; it resulted in Bush being named the winner. Bush remembered Ginsburg as "a smart and humorous trailblazer", adding: "She dedicated many of her 87 remarkable years to the pursuit of justice and equality, and she inspired more than one generation of women and girls."
Ginsburg was even more renowned for her dissents than her concurrences; both loomed large in major Supreme Court decisions. In 2007, the Court heard the case of Lilly Ledbetter, who worked as a supervisor at a Goodyear Tire plant in Alabama. Ledbetter discovered that there was a pay disparity between herself and her male co-workers. She filed a claim arguing discrimination based on gender; the Court ruled against Ledbetter, claiming she had waited too late to file a complaint. Ginsburg disagreed.
"The Court's insistence on immediate contest overlooks common characteristics of pay discrimination," Ginsburg wrote in Ledbetter v. Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co (2007). She urged Congress to address the issue, and it did. The Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act requires employers to keep the records needed to prove fair pay. The statute of limitations for pay discrimination claims is 180 days; the Ledbetter law applies that 180-day period to each new paycheck "tainted" by discrimination. Thus, "An employee hired 10 years ago may now challenge her starting pay on the ground that each current paycheck is tainted by that 10-year old discriminatory decision." The Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act was the first bill ever signed into law by former President Barack Obama. Mr. Obama signed the bill into law on January 29, 2009.
In 2013, Ginsburg again dissented sharply with her fellow justices. This time, the issue was the landmark 1965 Voting Rights Act. Section 4 of the Act describes a "coverage formula" to identify areas where racial discrimination in voting persist, and thus which areas pertain to Section 5. Section 5 prevents such areas from making changes to their voting procedures without federal approval. In Shelby County v. Holder (2013), the Court gutted the VRA by ruling Section 4 was unconstitutional. Without Section 4, Section 5 is essentially unenforceable. Ginsburg sharply dissented. "The sad irony of today's decision lies in its utter failure to grasp why the VRA has proven effective," she wrote.
In 2015, Ginsburg participated in another landmark case. Obergefell v. Hodges (2015) legalized same-sex marriage, ruling that the right to marry is covered under the 14th Amendment and Due Process Clause of the Constitution. Ginsburg joined the majority opinion, authored by Justice Anthony Kennedy. "No union is more profound than marriage, for it embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion, sacrifice, and family," he wrote. "In forming a marital union, two people become something greater than once they were. As some of the petitioners in these cases demonstrate, marriage embodies a love that may endure even past death. It would misunderstand these men and women to say they disrespect the idea of marriage. Their plea is that they do respect it […] They ask for equal dignity in the eyes of the law. The Constitution grants them that right."
Significantly, Ruth Bader Ginsburg was the first Supreme Court justice to officiate a same-sex marriage. And it was on marriage that she had some of her most poignant thoughts. In 2019, she relayed marital advice to Jennifer Lopez, who accepted a proposal from baseball legend Alex Rodriguez in March. Asked what she had told Lopez, Ginsburg relayed advice that her mother-in-law had given her on her wedding day in 1956:
Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg: "My mother-in-law… took me aside and said, 'Dear, I'd like to tell you the secret of a happy marriage.' She knew I'd love to hear it. It was: 'Sometimes it helps to be a little deaf.'" https://t.co/oBD3uBrQyL pic.twitter.com/HALwim5p9e
— The Hill (@thehill) July 3, 2019
The advice must have worked: Ginsburg enjoyed a long, happy marriage until 2010, when her husband Martin died from cancer. Before he died at 78, Mr. Ginsburg wrote a note for his wife on a yellow legal pad. She found it near his hospital bed. Mr. Ginsburg wrote: "My dearest Ruth: You are the only person I have loved in my life, setting aside [my] parents and kids, and their kids. And I have admired and loved you almost since the day we first met, at Cornell."
The Ginsburgs are survived by their two children and four grandchildren.
Terrance Turner	Uncategorized	1 Comment September 19, 2020 December 25, 2020 11 Minutes
Supreme Court Upholds DACA in 5-4 Verdict
The Supreme Court today blocked the Trump administration's plan to end DACA, a program that protects immigrants brought to the United States as children. In a 5-4 ruling, the Court found that the administration's attempt to end DACA in 2017 was "arbitrary and capricious".
The Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program was created in 2012 under then-President Barack Obama. Under the program, immigrants brought to the U.S. as children could stay in the States temporarily. They could apply and file for a two-year "forbearance" that would shield them from deportation. They have to be within 15 and 30 years of age, with no felony convictions. They must also pass a background check. According to NPR, DACA recipients must also be currently in school, a high school graduate, or honorably discharged from the military. The fee to renew and apply is $495.
Obama was moved to create the program after activists staged sit-ins in congressional offices and protested outside the White House. It was launched after the DREAM Act, which had similar protections, failed to pass Congress. (It was blocked in the Senate by Majority Leader Mitch McConnell and Texas Senator John Cornyn.) The current president moved to end the program in 2017, after winning office on an anti-immigrant platform. But the Supreme Court today handed Trump his second defeat of the week, ruling that his administration acted capriciously in trying to dismantle the program.
Chief Justice John Roberts wrote the majority opinion. He was joined by the Court's left-leaning justices: Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Stephen Breyer, Sonia Sotomayor, and Elena Kagan. Clarence Thomas wrote the majority dissent, joined by Neil Gorsuch, Samuel Alito, and Brett Kavanaugh. (According to the AP, the latter two wrote dissents of their own.)
"We do not decide whether DACA or its rescission are sound policies," Roberts wrote. "We address only whether the agency complied with the procedural requirement that it provide a reasoned explanation for its action. Here the agency failed."
The agency in question is the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). According to the text of the Court's decision, former Attorney General Jeff Sessions asked then-acting DHS Secretary Elaine Duke to rescind the policy. "The next day, Duke acted on that advice. Taking into consideration the Fifth Circuit and Supreme Court rulings and the Attorney General's letter, Duke decided to terminate the program. She explained that DHS would no longer accept new applications, but that existing DACA recipients whose benefits were set to expire within six months could apply for a two-year renewal. For all other DACA recipients, previously issued grants of relief would expire on their own terms, with no prospect for renewal."
The result was a number of lawsuits by those who argued that the administration had violated the due process clause of the Fifth Amendment. One of those plaintiffs was the NAACP, which said that the administration unlawfully reneged on a promise to protect young, undocumented immigrants of color. "NAACP, whose membership includes DACA registrants across the United States, is filing this lawsuit to protect the hundreds of thousands of Mexican, Caribbean and African immigrants," NAACP General Counsel Janette M. Louard said. (NAACP's website says that while over 80% of DACA recipients are Mexican, 36,000 Africans are also eligible for the program.)
The text of the Court's decision (DEPARTMENT OF HOMELAND SECURITY ET AL. v. REGENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA ET AL.) says the NAACP suit was in D.C.'s District Court. The District Court granted partial summary judgment to the NAACP; today's verdict upheld that ruling. NAACP President Derrick Johnson called the decision "a tremendous victory for America".
"Today's decision is completely monumental," said Krissia Rivera, a 27-year-old DACA recipient and fourth-year medical school student at Brown University. "This decision means that I will be able to apply to residency programs and hopefully achieve my dream of becoming a surgeon," Rivera told ABC. The decision is a major victory for thousands of immigrants: an estimated 800,000 people have enrolled in the program. DACA shielded them from deportation while they graduated, started businesses, became doctors or nurses, bought homes, even married and had children.
Some of them are working for major companies. According to ABC News, 200 major corporations filed briefs in the Supreme Court supporting the DACA recipients. Among them Microsoft, which was a plaintiff in one of the cases that made it to the Supreme Court, and Microsoft President Brad Smith. "There are more than 30,000 DACA registrants working in the health space alone. We've never needed these people more than we do today," he said. "Every time I meet with them, I have the same reaction. We are lucky as a country to have them."
Former vice president Joe Biden praised the ruling, writing: "The Supreme Court's ruling today is a victory made possible by the courage and resilience of hundreds of thousands of DACA recipients…As President, I will immediately work to make it permanent."
Terrance Turner	Uncategorized	Leave a comment June 19, 2020 June 19, 2020 3 Minutes
Supreme Court Rules That 1964 Civil Rights Act Protects LGBT Workers
States in gray were states where one could be fired for being LGBT. (Photo via Fast Company.)
In a shocking, landmark ruling, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 this morning that the 1964 Civil Rights Act (and its Title VII) protects LGBT workers from workplace discrimination. This means that it is now illegal to fire an employee because he or she is gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender. Believe it or not, it was legal in 29 states (including Texas) to fire someone for being LGBT. That ends today.
The Civil Rights Act prohibited discrimination based on race, color, religion, or national origin in motels, restaurants, movie theatres, and all other public accomodations. Title VII outlawed discrimination"on the basis of sex". It reads: "It shall be an unlawful employment practice for an employer to fail or refuse to hire or to discharge any individual, or otherwise to discriminate against any individual […] because of such individual's race, color, religion, sex, or national origin."
At issue was whether the question of "sex" applies to gay, bisexual, or transgender employees. The court says it does. "An employer who fires an individual merely for being gay or transgender violates Title VII," wrote Neil Gorsuch in the court's majority opinion. (He was joined by Justices Sonia Sotomayor, Elena Kagan, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, John Roberts, and Stephen G. Breyer. Justices Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito, and Brett Kavanaugh dissented.)
"An employer who fires an individual for being homosexual or transgender fires that person for traits or actions it would not have questioned in members of a different sex," Justice Gorsuch continued. "An individual's homosexuality or transgender status is not relevant to employment decisions. That's because it is impossible to discriminate against a person for being homosexual or transgender without discriminating against that individual based on sex.
"Consider, for example, an employer with two employees, both of whom are attracted to men. The two individuals are, to the employer's mind, materially identical in all respects, except that one is a man and the other a woman. If the employer fires the male employee for no reason other than the fact he is attracted to men, the employer discriminates against him for traits or actions it tolerates in his female colleague."
Gorsuch took it a step further: "Or take an employer who fires a transgender person who was identified as a male at birth but who now identifies as a female. If the employer retains an otherwise identical employee who was identified as female at birth, the employer intentionally penalizes a person identified as male at birth for traits or actions that it tolerates in an employee identified as female at birth. Again, the individual employee's sex plays an unmistakable and impermissible role in the discharge decision."
This ruling, coming from a libertarian justice on a court that Trump stacked with conservatives, is astonishing. Reading news of this shocked me in much the same way as the Court's landmark 2015 ruling legalizing gay marriage (which also arrived during Pride month). It's also a major victory for the LGBT community, after a Pride month rocked by parade cancellations and widespread protests against police brutality. (Not to mention the Trump administration's attempt to argue that workplace protections didn't apply to the community.) In a year that's been filled with bad news, today's news comes as a welcome surprise for activists — and every LGBT employee in America.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Whilst street art is certainly not a new phenomenon, dating back some tens of thousands of years, there is no doubt that it has grown at an exciting rate around the world with an audience that is now in the billions.
In more recent years, street art may have been considered as a form of vandalism, and some critics will always have this belief, however commissioned works with blue-chip firms such as Adidas, Gucci, Paul Smith and Facebook, along with the construction of legal walls and organised festivals are on the rise demonstrating that street art has become both a valid and established art form.
This has led to dedicated street art galleries and exhibition spaces to open across the country, and in some instances, certain projects receiving government sponsorship.
With these world-wide tourist attractions becoming more and more popular, prices are soaring to the extent that property owners, whose walls have been transformed into a work of art, to go to vast effort and expense to remove and replace the wall, later selling the work at auction.
Ownership and authenticity are legal – and sometimes moral – issues that often arise, especially regarding works from elusive artists.
As with any valuable asset, ensuring that the right protection is in place is vital.
Public murals are of course going to be more susceptible to vandalism than your average oil on canvas hanging in a museum, particularly if used as a political object.
That said, there has often been a misconception that insurers aren't willing to provide cover for any loss or damage to public murals resulting from acts of vandalism, however with some additional protections put in place, such as the installation of reinforced glass and/or CCTV within the area, this coverage is available.
With street art values now in the millions of pounds, theft is always going to be a risk, however by bolting a mural to a concrete floor would make moving several tonnes of weight far more difficult.
There are certain natural events which should be taken into account, such as windstorm, flood, fire, lightning and earthquake, all of which may be a high risk depending on where the work is displayed.
We can offer advice on how to best protect your artwork(s) along with providing flexible insurance solutions for physical loss or damage whether you are a collector, dealer, event organiser, or an entity looking to arrange cover for a commissioned work in progress.


text: todo with nodejs

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


Malaysia Airlines officials offered their "prayers and sincere condolences" to family members of passengers on board flight MH370 after authorities said they had concluded that the missing plane crashed in the remote Indian Ocean with the loss of all 239 people on board.
Grief-stricken families and friends marched on the Malaysian embassy in Beijing after being given the news by Malaysian authorities.
"Everyone in the Malaysia Airlines family is praying for the 239 souls on MH370 and for their loved ones on this dark day. We extend our prayers and sincere condolences."
Yahma added that whether or not he would resign was "a personal question" that he would consider later.
At the Malaysian embassy in Beijing, Chinese police moved journalists away as distraught relatives staged a two-hour protest.
Australia, where the search is now headquartered in Perth on the west coast, said visa fees for family members of passengers flying in would be waived. The Australian defence minister, David Johnston, said the search effort now included aircraft from Australia, New Zealand, China, the United States, Japan and South Korea.
"The challenge of flying to such a remote region and conducting search operations cannot be overstated. With eight hours of flying to and from the search region, the fleet of P-3 Orion aircraft and other military aircraft have only a precious few hours to scour the search tracks they have been given by Amsa [the Australian Maritime Safety Authority]."
Final confirmation of the disaster came after 17 days and was based on unprecedented analysis of "ping" signals sent to a satellite as the plane continued flying after disappearing from radar when its main locating beacons stopped operating and it veered off course between Malaysia and Vietnam.
As the search for wreckage continues a race is under way to find the black box recorders from the plane. The cockpit voice recorder and a data recorder emit a high-pitched ping underwater for at least 30 days after a crash.
The Australian and US navies are each sending equipment to the search area to hunt for the signals – the Americans dispatching a "towed pinger locator", a cylindrical microphone that is towed behind a ship in a grid pattern and can detect a signal up to two miles away. The Australian navy said it was deploying vessels equipped with acoustic detectors capable of picking up the audible beacon.
"We've got to get lucky," said John Goglia, a former member of the US National Transportation Safety Board. "It's a race to get to the area in time to catch the black box pinger while it's still working."
Australia was forced to temporarily suspend all search operations for the missing plane on Tuesday while waiting for an easing of wild seas, heavy rain and gales in the southern Indian Ocean.
The family of the Australian passengers Rod and Mary Burrows spoke to journalists in Queensland on Tuesday and asked that their privacy be respected. "The love and compassion that they shared and their priority of putting their family first will help us get through this together," said their son Jayden Burrows.


The spark of Spark was a growing and general dissatisfaction with the way that most law firms operate. We asked ourselves why, in this age of on-demand bespoke services, most law firms are stuck on the billable hour. Most companies are focussed on efficiency and innovation; why are law firms not doing the same?
The people at Spark LLP are dedicated to providing high quality legal services at predictable costs. We take being lawyers very seriously, but that's no reason not to have a bit of fun while we're at it. The world is full of lawyers who take themselves too seriously. We don't want to add to those numbers.
You, our clients, are why we became lawyers. Without you, we would just be people who like to argue a lot. Read more about our commitment to our clients and your rights as clients of Spark LLP.
We actually love being lawyers. We weren't crazy about how lawyers go about lawyering. But we're working hard to improve our profession. Read more about our commitment to our profession.


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text:
Q: GlueContext necessary for AWS Glue jobs? I checked a few of the questions but none seem to be what I am wondering.
I've created several Glue Jobs using GlueContext's syntax but now that I've learned a bit more about PySpark I wanted to create and execute a Glue Job fully scripted by me with PySpark.
Everything seems to run smoothly but the following command is doing nothing.
Even though the DataFrame in question is not empty, and the path is correct.
df.write.format('csv').option('header','false').save('s3_path')

This takes me to my question:
Every question/answer I read here uses the following:
glueContext.write_dynamic_frame.from_options(frame = df, connection_type = "s3", connection_options = {"path": "s3_path"}, format = "csv/parquet")

Am I forced to use glueContext's syntax to read/write from/to S3?
Or maybe there is something I'm missing.

A: I have been using glue for quite a long time now and I always prefer using pyspark dataframe writer instead of gluecontext writer as it provides more control.
For your case, I would say have a look at your sparkUI or cloudwatch logs and see if the task is being triggered or not and post the logs here if there is some issue.
To enable cloudwatch just enable the continuous monitoring.
and if you want to setup the sparkUI I have written a blog on the same
https://towardsdatascience.com/glue-spark-ui-6dab088929d9

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
È noto in particolare per essere stato il padre del generale Henry Lee III e nonno del generale Robert Edward Lee, leader dell'esercito sudista durante la guerra di secessione americana.

Biografia

Lee era il figlio terzogenito del capitano Henry Lee I (1691–1747) di "Lee Hall", contea di Westmoreland, e di sua moglie, Mary Bland (1704–1764), figlia di Richard Bland (1665–1720) e della sua seconda moglie, Elizabeth Randolph (1685–1719).

Lee nacque a "Lee Hall" nel 1729, nella contea di Prince William, vivendo poi a "Leesylvania", presso il villaggio di Dumfries. "Leesylvania" era un'ampia proprietà collocata tra Neabsco Creek e Powell Creek nella Prince William County, Virginia con una magnifica vista sul fiume Potomac. Questa era un antico possedimento della sua famiglia acquistato già dai suoi nonni.

Lee prestò servizio come giudice di pace nella contea di Prince William e venne inoltre eletto nella House of Burgesses della Virginia nel 1758, dove prestò servizio sino al 1772. Fu membro della Convenzione della Virginia dal 1774 al 1776. Lee fu Luogotenente della contea di Prince William, e risultò particolarmente attivo negli anni della rivoluzione americana. Henry Lee fu anche membro del senato nel 1780. Il suo testamento venne redatto il 10 agosto 1787 e registrato il 1 ottobre di quello stesso anno. Lee morì poco dopo.

Matrimonio e figli
Henry Lee II sposò Lucy Grymes (1734–1792), figlia di Charles Grymes (1693–1743) (due volte imparentato col presidente George Washington) e Frances Jennings (prozia di Edmund Randolph). Charles Grimes proveniva dalla regione di "Morattico", nella contea di Richmond in Virginia, dove era sceriffo e membro del consiglio (1724-1725). La coppia ebbe insieme i seguenti figli

 Generale Henry Lee III "Light Horse Harry" (1756–1818), Governatore della Virginia. Lee III sposò:
 Matilda Lee (1766–1790), figlia di Philip Ludwell Lee, Sr. (1727–1775) e di Elizabeth Steptoe (1743–1789), che sposò in seconde nozze poi Philip Richard Fendall I (1734–1805).
 Anne Hill Carter (1773–1829), figlia di Charles Carter, Sr. (1737–1802) di "Shirley", e della sua seconda moglie, Anne Butler Moore (1756). Il loro figlio fu il generale confederato Robert E. Lee.
 Charles Lee (1758–1815), U.S. Attorney General. Sposò:
 Anne Lee (1770–1804), figlia di Richard Henry Lee (1732–1794) e della sua seconda moglie, Anne (Gaskins) Pinckard.
 Margaret Christian (Scott) Peyton (1783–1843), vedova di Yelverton Peyton (1771–1802). Margaret era figlia del Rev. John Scott (1747–1785) e di Elizabeth Gordon.
 Richard Bland Lee I (1761–1827) di "Sully", che sposò Elizabeth "Eliza" Collins (1768–1858), figlia di Stephen Collins e di Mary Parish.
 Mary "Mollie" Lee (1764–1827), che sposò Philip Richard Fendall I (1734–1805) come sua terza moglie. Philip era figlio di Benjamin Fendall (1708–1764) e della sua prima moglie, Eleanor Lee (1710–1759).
 Theodorick Lee (1766–1849) di "Eckington", sposò Catherine Hite (1766–1849).
 Edmund Jennings Lee I (1772–1843), sposò Sally Lee (1775–1837), figlia di Richard Henry Lee (1732–1794) e di Anne (Gaskins) Pinckard.
 Lucy Lee (1774), morta infante.
 Anne Lee (1776–1857), sposò William Byrd Page, Sr. (1768–1812), figlio di Mann Page (1742–1787) e di Mary Mason Selden (1754–1787).

Note

Proprietari di schiavi statunitensi
Persone della guerra d'indipendenza americana

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia