Catastrophic Health Insurance: we need catastrophic health insurance for all so that no one will be forced into bankruptcy or poverty, due to unexpected and expensive illness(es).
Education Reform: the need for minimum standards (all across the US) which are high enough to put students at an advantage in life versus a disadvantage. (Note: We need to rethink the definition of what a good education is and what form it takes; we need to rethink the industrial revolution "time clock" model.) These reforms might include smaller class sizes (ie. 15:1 versus 30 or 40:1); year around classes (so the student's family has the choice of which quarter, if any, to take off for personal fulfillment, travel or alternative study); vouchers so all students have equal opportunity (not a guarantee of equal outcome); requirement of teachers to take on-going training and classes; set-up of an experimental privatized educational system as an alternative to public education and the governmental bureaucracy that it creates; organize a think-tank whose mandate would be to start at the beginning, rethink what the goals of education are, and public education in particular. This group should have free reign to be a creative as possible - to "think outside the box." Its purpose is to put together a proposed restructuring of our education system which will be of service to all children in the US, educating them with excellence and nurturing them to become all that they can be- including the goal, in fact the duty of each citizen of being a contributing member of society. This group would include educators, researchers, authors, parents, business people, and the public at large.
Environmental Choice: Every environmental policy has human as well as financial costs and benefits, and We The People need full information to make informed choices. "Clean water, Clean air, Clean land" are not too much to expect in our country, in fact in our world! "He who pollutes pays" - the polluter should pay the price of full clean-up. A robust economy and a clean, biologically productive environment are not in conflict. On the contrary, they need each other over the long term if they are to continue to survive and prosper.
Anti-pollution standards should be drawn to protect EVERYONE in society as much as possible rather than be based on a safe threshold for healthy young adults. Inclusive instead of exclusive, so to speak.
The costs of regulation and the risks of the health threats that government is seeking to curb are important tools in setting environmental standards, but they are only tools, not ends in themselves. Many other factors are taken into consideration in reaching a final decision, not the last nor least of which is ethics.
We The People endorses the application of the "precautionary principle". Hence, when there is enough evidence to warrant concern that serious and/or irreversible environmental harm might occur, lack of full scientific certainty should not be used as justification for blocking measures that are beneficial in their own right and would diminish the potential for experiencing such harm.
Consideration should be given to gradually replacing, or at least offsetting, the federal income tax with a tax on consumption.
Consumers might actively help curtail pollution by understanding and adopting active support and participation in the ZEV Program (Zero Emission Vehicles) which needs to stay on the books. The manufacturers are starting to withdraw the vehicles from the U.S. market (ie. Honda's electric car) due to slow sales. This is a question of education and information to the consumers and a national policy for the U.S. Federal government to purchase zero emission vehicles (eg. electric) for its huge fleet, thus creating a market and reducing the market cost by higher volume production. The environment can not make up for our lack of responsibility - if we adopt the "he who pollutes pays" policy, perhaps owners of traditional combustion engine vehicles will pay more instead of the owners of electric (or other environmentally sound) vehicles! We need to protect what we have or we will lose it!
The Defense Budget, the Military and our Real National Security Needs- contrary to what our elected officials and the military are telling us, we hear from enlisted and recently retired officers that - its all about "pork", procurement, standards (standards which are across the board and not different for each service branch), and watching that defense contractors actually do what they are contacted to do, what they say they will do, actively monitoring their performance. Honesty, creative solutions to problems (ie. when equipment and parts are not easily available, being able to fix something without going through the procurement bureaucracy; or recognizing when a part can be purchased or repaired less expensively than by going through the often inflated pricing systems of the procurement offices), and personal responsibility are key to excellence - excellence in attitude, excellence in personal relations, and excellence in process, the flow of work and in the results achieved. Personal integrity and responsibility have slipped, and the military service is back in the attitude of the 1970's after Vietnam with cutbacks, layoffs, and reduction of services. There needs to be more standardization across the board - a return to a standard of excellence. This does not necessarily mean a higher budget, or even one at the level we have today. What is suggested is a return to responsibility, to remove "pork" at all levels, and a return to the highest standards of which we are capable.
The Workers Prosperity Act: There is increasing disparity in our economic prosperity - the rich are getting richer, and the poor and middle class are getting poorer or "standing still". Why? Because $13 billion of new wealth is being created each year in America and only stockholders benefit in that new wealth. The Worker's Prosperity Act would help solve this problem by encouraging employee stock ownership and employee profit sharing. The Worker's Prosperity Act is proposed federal legislation that would create millions of new shareholders and high paying manufacturing jobs by requiring The Federal Reserve Bank (FED) to open a new low interest (0.5%) discount window designed to encourage Employee Stock Ownership Plans (ESOPs). The Act will also limit the interest rate markup (2.0%) on FED funds lent by commercial banks to ESOPs under this program. These loans will be made at an interest rate of 2.5% (0.5% plus 2.0%). The Act recognizes that economic and personal freedom requires a broad base of corporate owners, which in turn creates greater purchasing power among consumers - which is good for the rich as well as the expanding middle class. An Employee Stock Ownership Plan (ESOP) is a breakthrough method of corporate finance which creates new owners. Initiated into Federal Law by Senator Russell Long, it empowers all employees of a corporation by extending to them ownership rights and privileges. There are more than eleven million (11,000,000) members of Employee Stock Ownership Plans in the United States at this time. An ESOP provides working people who have little or no accumulated savings access to credit repayable out of future corporate earnings. It does this without any reduction in their paychecks. The corporation is allowed to repay both the principal and interest portions of the loan with pre-tax dollars while the employees are acquiring individual stock ownership in their company. The Worker's Prosperity Act would allow employees to buy and own a "piece of the action."


text:
3 Attacks in Tense Caucasus Kill 2 Policemen and Soldier
C. J. CHIVERS
MOSCOW, Aug. 23 — Gunmen in the volatile Caucasus region ambushed a police convoy on Thursday in the mountains of Dagestan, killing two officers. There were two other attacks in Ingushetia that left a Russian soldier dead. A total of at least 16 police officers and soldiers were wounded, the authorities said.
The attacks were the latest in a series this summer in the republics, which are adjacent to Chechnya. They underscored the degree to which the insurgency, weakened since 2004, has managed to survive and conduct operations against Russia's numerically superior police and military forces.
They also raise questions about Russia's official assertions that Chechnya and its neighboring republics, a few hundred miles east of Sochi, where Russia is to stage the Winter Olympics in 2014, are secure and under control.
Ingushetia has continued to suffer almost daily ambushes and small bombings, even though Russia sent about 2,500 reinforcements there late last month.
Some attacks have been tactically unimpressive, including drive-by shootings at checkpoints and bunkers. Others have involved coordinated ambushes and even a rocket-propelled grenade directed at the home of Ingushetia's president, Murat M. Zyazikov, a former K.G.B. officer and an ally of President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia.
Chechen separatists have also claimed that a sniper has begun to terrorize the police in Grozny, the Chechen capital, firing on officers in the city's center and eluding capture.
In a sign of the degree to which Islamic-influenced insurgencies borrow from one another, a separatist Web site said the Chechen sniper had taken the name Chuba, a derivative of Juba, the name used in insurgent videos in Iraq for a sniper guerrillas credit with shooting American troops.
American military and intelligence officers have questioned whether Juba actually exists, or is a composite character invented for propaganda purposes and used with graphic images of shootings to sow fear.
Similarly, some of the separatist claims in the Caucasus appear to be exaggerated, as they have been for years, including a claim on a separatist Web site that as many as 2,000 new volunteers had taken up arms. Russian officials say the entire insurgency is a fraction of that size.
Whatever the actual number, the latest attacks suggest that the guerrillas, though scattered, remain capable of disruptive actions.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Happy October! This is one of my favorite months of the year. Just gimme all the hot apple cider and teacher-y cardigans.
You know I love process art, and I'm always looking for unique tools to paint with or use as stamps! (Read about why my preschoolers don't do "crafts" here.) We recently painted some pumpkins with LEGOS!
I gave the students two shades of orange to choose from by adding white paint to the orange. Tip: In the pictures here, you can see they're just holding one Lego, but I recommend stacking two together. That's what we did on Day 2 of this craft, and the children were much less likely to get paint on their fingers.
While they were painting, we talked about how the Legos made circles on the paper. They noticed some blocks made 4 dots, and other blocks made 8! Some of the kids used their Legos like stamps to make circles, but some of my preschoolers slid their Legos across the paper to make swirly lines. It's so important to let them explore different methods of painting & stamping! There was no "right" way to paint with Legos.
These were so fun to make, and it's such a simple fall art activity to set up! My preschoolers are already asking if we can paint with Legos again.
Like this fall art idea? Pin it!


text:
a month ago by Sam Sager — 13 min read
An Ungated Case Study
Sam Sager's journey into authentic creativity, oasis building, and self-trust
Case Studies Courage Marketing Oasis Building
Intro from Rob: Hey friends! Today I'm stoked to share an epic guest essay from Sam Sager. Sam started out as a coaching client earlier this year, but we've since become fast friends.
Since May of 2022, Sam's gone from no meaningful presence on the internet (he literally had 10 followers on twitter lol), to being one of the more prolific, well-connected dudes I know. And he's done it while ignoring the obnoxious best practices of online marketing, and leaning in on the Ungated principles of self-trust and following the aliveness. So naturally I asked him to document the journey so we could make a case study out of it.
Whenever you walk away from the games everyone else is playing, and you start creating your own path, it's easy to get mired in fear and self-doubt. But I hope Sam's story plants a seed. Great things can happen when you embrace uncertainty, let go of the need to control and know everything, and allow your aliveness to unfold into the world. That recipe has worked wonders for me over the last two years, and it's been incredible to watch it work on Sam as well. So without any further ado, here's his story.
"Dude, just build it for yourself."
It's early May of 2022 and I'm sitting on Zoom for my first coaching call with Rob Hardy. I can't remember how I ended up in his world, but it felt like stumbling out of the cold dark woods and encountering a friendly cabin with a warm fire.
I had joined twitter a few months earlier after a five-year hiatus from social media. I felt a deep desire to share ideas about self-renewal, enjoyable exercise, small business, and regenerative gardening. I wanted to connect with other people interested in these topics, but felt stuck and overwhelmed. I had 10 followers (seriously) and felt like I was pointlessly shouting into the void.
Worse, I was completely unsure of what to share and felt anxious about what others would think. Every time I hit "Tweet" there was a constant undertone of tension and insecurity. I saw some people growth hacking and building polished personal brands, and others mindlessly consuming random jokes and shitposts. I knew I didn't want either, but wasn't sure if a third path existed.
It was when I tried to explain this uncertainty that Rob replied: "Dude, just build it for yourself. Create a space where you want to hang out and the others will find you." He then launched into a passionate explanation of oasis building, operating from the inside-out, subverting the status quo, and marketing non-coercively. My head was spinning but I knew one thing: I felt deep connection to the idea of a digital oasis, and knew I wanted to build my own.
As our call was wrapping up, Rob shared that he was about to run a pilot cohort of a week-long experience he was calling "The Arena" and asked if I wanted to join. I've never said yes faster.
That week-long experience proved to be fertile ground, and the seeds Rob planted began to sprout. It gave me a space to share some ideas that felt authentic yet fragile and have a handful of internet strangers earnestly engage and cheer me on. The feeling was indescribable. The positive feedback from the dozen people in that first round gave me concrete proof that sharing my ideas could feel good, and that others might genuinely care. The experience gave me just enough belief to push through the resistance of putting myself out there more publicly. After that, I started sharing more regularly on Twitter.
It's wild to look back over the last six months and see how little of it was planned. So I thought I'd use this essay to revisit a few specific moments, and make sense of how the journey unfolded. It feels important to share concrete examples of the challenges and insecurities I faced, and how I worked through them. Plus, it turns out to map really well onto the ideas Rob shared in that first call.
Building from the bottom up
One of my biggest barriers was what specifically to share. I felt this pressure to figure out a few things to focus on and not make it too personal. Rob encouraged me to stop trying to think my way into the "right" strategy, and instead run little experiments with whatever felt alive.
So one afternoon in June, while my 4-month-old daughter was napping, I looked out at my suburban garden and thought a few others might be interested in my experience building it. I slapped together a thread of experiences, lessons, and photos documenting my journey. I quickly posted it and went to soothe a waking baby.
When I logged back in, I saw that an early follower (and now friend), Kristen Haaf had retweeted it. Even cooler, a bunch of her followers had started commenting and retweeting. The next two days were a blur. When you only have 40 followers, it's hard to imagine how something can take off. Yet somehow that post ended up getting over 200 retweets, 1500 likes, and 200k impressions. My followers went from 40 to over 400 and I had an entirely new set of anxieties on my hands.
In 2020, I started to convert our 1/4 acre yard into a food forest.
I had no experience gardening but loved the idea of growing our own food, bringing more life around us, and deepening my connection to nature.
Sharing a bit about the journey and will add as things evolve:
— Sam Sager (@sc_sager) June 15, 2022
I found it overwhelming to have my followers grow so significantly and rapidly. Every fear and uncertainty came roaring back: "I don't want to be Suburban Garden Guy." "What will all these plant people think of my ideas on exercise, or nerdy book recommendations?" "Will these new people judge me?"
Yet, at the same time, there was something profound about the experience. I posted something close to my heart, and others cared. Some shared their experiences with starting a garden. Some offered ideas for new things to add. And many told me it inspired them to create a garden of their own. There's something deeply nourishing about sharing something, and discovering that it resonates with so many others.
Operating from the inside-out
The week or so after the garden post was strange. It felt like someone handed me a microphone and turned the volume up. Looking back, it's funny to think about how little the new followers actually cared about what I shared next versus how much additional pressure I felt. But at the time the stakes felt high.
So I once again leaned on Rob's advice: Double down on your unique interests. Allow whatever is alive within you to come out. Participate in the conversation. Don't try to niche yourself into a box.
The thing that was most alive was an observation about how I was seeing the Taoist idea of "non-doing" all over the place. Not just in my own life and work, but in the work of many people I admired. It felt like an interesting observation to share, but it also created a ton of resistance. Not only was it a bit esoteric, but I was going to provide a commentary on other people's work. "What if they didn't agree?" "What if they think I'm tagging them to ride their coattails?" "What if they think I'm a fraud for talking about this"? The inner critic ragged on until I said fuck it and fired off the thread.
semi-serious question:
are we all just rediscovering and reapplying the wisdom of the Tao Te Ching and the power of "non-doing" in different domains?
it's bubbling up a lot in my own work and I seem to be stumbling upon it everywhere
The ensuing response and dialogue was even more rewarding than the garden thread. It felt like a cozy late-night party back in college where a bunch of friends nerd out on philosophical ideas. People riffed on my observations and shared their own perspectives. It was the opposite of everything I feared. I realized how each idea we share is an invitation for others to join us in an ongoing conversation. Yes, it's scary to be seen, but it's also a chance to see others. To give words to an experience, a feeling, or a thought that people can connect with.
Cheerfully subverting the status quo
One of the main reasons I wanted to start sharing online was to contribute ideas around how to make exercise more enjoyable. It kills me that so many people view fitness as just something they should do, or even force themselves to do it while hating it. Yet, this is where I faced the greatest resistance.
The fitness industry is full of so much noise, and so many people telling others what they have to do. A lot of it preys on people's insecurities, and centers around advice that makes people feel inadequate. It's sad. The core of my message is the opposite. Instead of looking to others to tell you what to do, you'll find the answer within. Yet, I felt deeply uncomfortable participating in the online conversation around fitness.
Not surprisingly, given the parallels between the fitness and marketing industries, Rob has a strategy for this as well: cheerfully subvert the status quo by focusing on embodying what you want to see. Be the change you want to see in your corner of the internet, and have fun with it.
This has been a slow journey that continues to unfold. At first, I just sprinkled in examples from one own life on how I embrace these ideas. Then I started to subtly push back against the common narrative that we need others to tell us what to do. Eventually, the flood gates opened and ideas around embodied exercise, intrinsic joy, strength training, breath, and more poured out. In some ways, sharing about the other topics was a safe warm-up for sharing these more fragile and vulnerable ideas.
Surprisingly, I no longer even think that much about the status quo. Rather, I invest energy in creating a small corner of the internet where people can encounter something completely different. An oasis where people can have a felt sense of the joy of exercise and the power of embracing fitness from within.
Chasing the aliveness to the edge of my comfort zone
The deeper I go into Rob's world, the more I believe these are all different strategies to play with the tension between two intentions: chase the aliveness within and go to the place that scares you. It's about developing your ability to listen to what you truly want to create, instead of allowing others to dictate your desires and goals. It's about having faith to trust your own direct experience, and follow what's true and alive, especially when it takes you into unknown territory. When we do this, the world opens up in beautiful, unpredictable ways.
As I got more comfortable sharing on Twitter, I felt a strong desire to explore these ideas in more depth. So I started a Substack to write long form essays, along with a podcast to discuss the themes with others. I began by creating a list of a bunch of topics that I wanted to write about. Yet, none of the things I wrote at first were on that list. Instead, something pulled me towards more personal stories from my life. Publishing these felt uncomfortable and vulnerable. And also deeply cathartic.
Encountering renewal in a dark time
My journey with chronic disease and self-renewal
On RenewalSam Sager
Finally, after three months, I felt an energy to write the essay that had been staring at me from the top of the list. It was time to share something substantial about embodied and intuitive exercise. Over the next few weeks, I poured my heart into the piece. This was my chance to consolidate and express everything I've learned about fitness over the last decade. But I also poured all of my anxiety and imposter syndrome into it. The result was a behemoth that tried to say everything and only succeeded at leaving the reader overwhelmed and disoriented.
I knew it wasn't working, but I was in too deep to figure out why. I sent it to Rob for feedback and nervously joined a call to discuss. After confirming that it wasn't good, he said something I'll never forget: "Stop trying so hard to prove what you know. All this stuff is just getting in the way of your goal of inviting people to reimagine their relationship with exercise." 🤯
By reconnecting me with my core intention, Rob helped me unlock the full potential of the piece. I cut the essay in half. I let go of the need to prove how smart I was. The words began to flow and I felt a deep pride in the essay that emerged.
Discovering Joy Through Embodied Exercise
An intentional path to cultivate intrinsic motivation
The fact that it seems to have resonated with so many people just makes the experience even sweeter. The tweet with the link got spread to over 30,000 people, and the essay got thousands of views. I stumbled across it being shared on Reddit and in some of my favorite newsletters. To this day, people will randomly reply with it on Twitter to people exploring similar ideas.
I attribute the success it had entirely to waiting until it felt like the moment when it had to be written and listening to Rob guide me back to the place of aliveness within. It taught me the power in wrestling with our insecurities and the value in asking for help.
Marketing non-coercively & trusting myself
You can probably tell by now that i'm not driven predominately by followers, engagement, or short-term results. I'm in it for the long run. I've found a collection of things I love doing and want to be able to keep doing them. My hope is to spend the next 20-plus years building an oasis of intuitive fitness, non-doing, self-renewal, and whatever else bubbles up.
There's still a voice in my head that says I should niche down, and make work more focused and legible. That's why I love Rob's idea of marketing non-coercively because it points towards trusting yourself, and trusting others to decide what's valuable and alive to them. And after six months, I've come to trust that this approach, though it feels less certain, isn't incompatible with the growth outcomes that many people care about.
Since May, I've gone from 10 to 1,680 Twitter followers. From 3,000 to 300,000 monthly Twitter impressions. From 0 to 300 email subscribers. From 0 to 1,000 podcast downloads. From never making money online to a collection of coaching clients, all of whom found me through my tweets and writing. And, most valuable of all, from being afraid to share to trusting myself and the process.
Yes, it's slower than growth-hacking and hyper-niching your way to an audience. But that's a feature, not a bug. The pace creates space for serendipity. By experimenting and experiencing I've been able to deepen my understanding of what I actually want to create. I've discovered new paths that I couldn't previously imagine.
There's one other interesting thing that's happened along the way. This whole process seems to be fertile ground for self-discovery and self-renewal. It sounds pretty absurd to claim that sharing on Twitter created a significant transformation within me. But here we are and that's the truth.
Each time I hit tweet or publish, I was facing my fears. Instead of looking for someone else to tell me what to share, I looked within. Instead of letting insecurities hold me back, I threw my ideas into the arena. I opened myself up to the eyes of others and accepted the possibility of judgment.
And what came back was beautiful and nourishing. People cared. We connected over shared experiences and interests. I built real relationships just by authentically showing up as myself. I learned that so much good comes when I trust myself and my own experience.
This lesson has rippled across my life and I now notice how much more deeply I trust myself to navigate small daily actions and even the large decisions of life. More to come on this evolution in a future post.
What's On The Horizon
The most exciting piece of this journey is developing comfort with not knowing exactly where it's going. I've felt a shift from planning and controlling to exploring and unfolding. I can't predict exactly what will emerge. I can only trust that I'll have the capacity to continue to navigate it.
Nevertheless, I have so much more clarity than I did six months ago and it feels valuable to name what I see on the horizon. To call out where I feel the most aliveness, what terrain I hope to cover, and what challenges may arise.
As we enter the new year, I have a gnawing sense that I need to expand my work on Intuitive Fitness into a form that helps more people discovery the joy of exercise. The one-on-one work is powerful but limited in who it can serve. This means translating the experience into workshops, courses, and perhaps even a community. It's starting a dedicated newsletter to create a playground to deepen the ideas and learning to market these offerings in an aligned way.
At the same time, I know that it's important to keep cultivating the On Renewal oasis for people to explore change, resilience, and regeneration in themselves, their organizations, and the natural world. This includes refining the podcast, deepening my personal writing, and exploring in-person community building. Rob and I even have a shared vision for one day hosting in-person renewal retreats.
In the past, I've struggled with balance. I'd immediately go all in on one thing and burn myself out. In the last year, I've realized how much I enjoy a portfolio approach to my work and life. I'm someone who thrives by having different projects to pour energy into. I feel best when I spread my identity and ambition across domains. So instead of rushing to monetize one of these projects to the max, I plan to continue indie-consulting on strategic growth and succession planning. Even this is becoming a place to spread ideas around resilience and renewal.
I recognize this approach creates it's own set of challenges. I am deeply aware of the need to balance these projects with my personal life, especially my roles as a father and a husband. I sense a tension between the need to push to create momentum, and the value in giving each space to evolve. I feel a desire to commit to them without closing myself off to twists, turns, and even new directions. The future is murky, but I've never been more excited to keep walking the path.
If you're a member of the Ungated Collective community (which is totally free, btw), you can always jump directly into the discussion for this article by clicking this magic link.
Well this is embarrassing...
The Ashcroft Files
Gift Economy - A Strategy Update
Creator Case Studies
The more beautiful internet our hearts know is possible


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MiMedx Group, Inc. (OTC Bulletin Board: MDXG), an integrated developer, manufacturer and marketer of patent protected biomaterial-based products, announced today that it has signed a definitive agreement to acquire Surgical Biologics, a leader in the development of tissue processing techniques for creating implants for a variety of surgical indications from amnion membranes.
Privately held Surgical Biologics was founded in early 2006 and is headquartered in Kennesaw, Georgia. In its five year history, Surgical Biologics has established its reputation as a pioneer in the development of the latest advances in processing amniotic membrane tissues that provide safe, reliable and effective implants. Through Purion®, its proprietary tissue processing technology which produces an implant that is minimally manipulated, Surgical Biologics has differentiated itself, and its tissues are in over 30,000 implants. The Purion® process follows strict guidelines for allograft processing established by the Food and Drug Administration ("FDA") and the American Association of Tissue Banks ("AATB").
The human amniotic membrane comprises the innermost layer of the placenta, and lines the amniotic cavity. The amniotic tissue processed by Surgical Biologics is donated by mothers who have scheduled Cesarean sections. Each donor is screened and tested in accordance with FDA regulations and AATB standards.
MiMedx reported that it expects the transaction to be accretive in 2011. The Company reported that Surgical Biologics is projected to have 2010 revenues of approximately $2 million, and MiMedx projects the 2011 revenues to be generated from the Surgical Biologics processed tissue to be in the range of $7 million. The transaction is subject to certain conditions to closing, which is expected to occur in early January 2011.
MiMedx management will host a live conference call to discuss the transaction on Wednesday, December 22, 2010, beginning at 2:00 p.m. eastern time. A listen-only simulcast of the MiMedx Group conference call will be available online at the Company's website at www.mimedx.com or at www.earnings.com. A 30-day online replay will be available approximately one hour following the conclusion of the live broadcast. The replay can also be found on the Company's website at www.mimedx.com or at www.earnings.com.
Surgical Biologics develops bioimplants processed from human amniotic membrane, which can be used for a wide range of surgical indications. Purion®, a patent pending process created by Surgical Biologics, is specifically designed for processing the human amniotic membrane. Surgical Biologics is currently pioneering the latest advances in amnion based implants to provide an implant which is safe, reliable and effective.
MiMedx Group, Inc. ("MiMedx Group") is an integrated developer, manufacturer and marketer of patent protected biomaterial-based products. The Company is successfully emerging from a development-focused start-up into a fully integrated operating company with an experienced team poised to capitalize on its science and technology to generate rapid sales growth and profitability. Our mantra is "Repair, don't replace" because our biochemists, engineers, designers and physicians believe it is better to augment repair when possible rather than replace traumatized, but otherwise healthy tissues and structures. Our platform technologies, HydroFix™ and CollaFix™, have a vast number of potential applications in treating traumatized tissue and structures and we are focused on commercializing multiple applications of both technologies. In parallel, we are seeking strategic relationships, in selective categories, to more rapidly commercialize our technologies. HydroFix™ and CollaFix™ are trademarks of MiMedx Group, Inc.
This press release includes statements that look forward in time or that express management's beliefs, expectations or hopes. Such statements are forward-looking statements within the meaning of the Private Securities Litigation Reform Act of 1995. These statements include, but are not limited to, the potential synergies of the Surgical Biologics' technologies and MiMedx' current product technologies, the potential product opportunities and the expectations for Surgical Biologics revenues for 2010 and 2011. These statements are based on current information and belief, and are not guarantees of future performance. Among the risks and uncertainties that could cause actual results to differ materially from those indicated by such forward-looking statements include that the anticipated therapeutic benefits may not be achieved, that the uses for and physician utilization of the Purion® technology platform do not meet expectations, that the Company may not receive requisite regulatory clearances and/or approvals to be able to develop and market its full range of potential products from the Purion® technology platform , or that such clearances or approvals may be delayed, that Surgical Biologics does not meet its 2010 revenue projections, that the Company does not achieve the 2011 revenue expectations projected from the Surgical Biologic business, that the Company requires significant additional capital to survive and achieve its goals, which may be difficult or impossible to obtain; that cost reductions may not be sustained or be sufficient to enable the Company to achieve profitability, that the Company may not be able to establish an effective distribution system for its products in the U.S. or abroad, that the Company's products may not gain the anticipated acceptance in the marketplace or that acceptance may be delayed, and the risk factors detailed from time to time in the Company's periodic Securities and Exchange Commission filings, including, without limitation, its 10-K filing for the fiscal year ended December 31, 2009. By making these forward-looking statements, MiMedx Group does not undertake to update them in any manner except as may be required by the Company's disclosure obligations in filings it makes with the Securities and Exchange Commission under the federal securities laws.


text:
10 reasons why medical marijuana should be legal in Oklahoma
9:45 AM EDT on July 12, 2012
According to the always reliable Wikipedia, 19 states have either legalized medicinal marijuana or decriminalized it. Now thanks to Constance Johnson, the Senator behind the "every sperm is sacred" amendment to the Personhood Act, the Oklahoma Senate is actually going to take a look at the issue.
From News 9:
Advocates for medical marijuana say they are finally making progress into legalization here in Oklahoma. The head of the Oklahoma Senate has approved a study into the issue.
Senator Constance Johnson says this is the first progress on the issue since she first introduced it in 2006. She plans to call Doctors, experts, patients and advocates to testify.
"There are a lot of people in Oklahoma who are interested in this issue and they're finally getting a voice in the process," she said.
"I think we should leave it up to the medical community to decide what to use to help people," said attorney David Slane says he has represented a client in Oklahoma who's doctor recommended medical marijuana.
"It's not medicine," argues Mark Woodward with the Oklahoma Bureau of Narcotics.
He says his agency will ask to testify at the hearing.
"The bottom line is the whole medical marijuana movement is recreational pot smokers looking for loopholes in the law so they can recreationally smoke it whenever they want," Woodward said.
Senator Brian Crain, head of the Health and Human Services committee still has to grant the hearing. He tells News 9 he is looking into how much time it will take.
Senator Crain says he hopes to make a decision this week if and when he will hold that hearing.
First of all, let me respond to Captain Mark Woodfucker. Of course you don't want medical marijuana to be legalized! You're a bully who works for Oklahoma Bureau of Narcotics! You're a fun-hater who makes a living by trying to arrest people who want to relieve stress, enjoy life and not feel ashamed about eating a king size bag of peanut M&M's while watching Super Troopers.
And yes, most people who want "medicinal" marijuana legalized are simply "recreational pot smokers." They are also smart, rational and logical people who realize marijuana has more in common with a nice cigar than it does a bag of heroin, and that by making it available via a prescription, you're one step closer to legalization and regulation instead of jail time and a criminal record.
Anyway, I decided to list some reasons why medicinal marijuana should be legalized in the Sooner state. Some of them are pretty basic and straightforward, while other ones may be a little more abstract and require being stoned to understand.
1. Less non-violent offenders will be put in jail and prisons.
Oklahoma has a problem with prison overcrowding and high incarceration rates. If medicinal marijuana was legalized, fewer people would be serving time in jail or prison. One of those people is Patricia Spottedcrow, a 25-year old mother of four with no prior criminal record who was sentenced to 12 years in prison for selling $31 in pot to undercover cops.
2. Smoking marijuana helps people interpret the tweets of Dean Blevins.
I don't smoke marijuana and never will because D.A.R.E. worked on me (have I mentioned some of my relatives read this blog), but Clark Matthews is a regular user of the wacky tobacky. He says it helps him do many things, like see the checkerboard in four dimensions and better understand Dean Blevins's tweets. Since Dean Blevins' tweets fly over my head, I'll consider that a positive thing.
3. Less money goes to gangs, drug cartels and organized crime.
If you've ever purchased weed in Oklahoma, there's about an 80% chance that you are buying weed that was grown in Mexico or California and controlled by gangs or drug cartels. If medicinal marijuana was legalized, less money would support those cartels and would instead support local farmers, businesses and potheads.
4. You can finally say you have something in common with young Kevin Ogle.
Dear God, just look at the pot-smoking Viking warlock giant. I think I'm stoned just from looking at that pic. If marijuana wasn't smoked either five minutes before or after that photograph was taken then I'm a manatee named George.
Seriously, look at that thing. Tall Scandinavian Ogle brother wearing a cowboy hat, basketball jersey and daisy dukes. Check. Psychedelic black-light poster?? Check Check. Weird buckets on the back patio of a college apartment??? Exhale.
5. Taxation and Regulation
I know Republicans hate taxation and regulation, but they also love "sin taxes." And just think of the sin tax you could place on medicinal marijuana. It's estimated that California earns close to $100,000,000 a year just in basic sales tax revenues from medicinal marijuana sales. California is about 10-times larger than Oklahoma, so our revenues wouldn't be close to that, but even $10,000,000 would be $10,000,000 more than our state collects in sales taxes from marijuana sales.
6. Science Museum Oklahoma The Omniplex will become fun again.
When you're a sober grown up, Science Museum Oklahoma The Omniplex is pretty boring, but according to Clark Matthews it can be a blast when you're stoned. Although he did mention to stay away from the shadow wall , echo tube and earthquake exhibit. He also told me the astronaut ice cream is a good snack if you had the munchies.
7. Attract high-profile free agents to the Oklahoma City Thunder
Eventually, the Oklahoma City Thunder is going to have to pursue a high-profile free agent. Since NBA players smoke more marijuana in one day than all other professional sports leagues combined, legalizing pot will only help our chances.
8. Helps you better cope with the pain of knowing that your 25-year-old, recently annulled daughter eloped in Arkansas with an eccentric sushi chef.
This leads too...
9. Actual Medicinal Use
This is kind of boring, but their some actual medicinal uses for marijuana. THC is one of the only known chemicals that helps reduce nausea while increasing appetite. That's a good thing for cancer patients going through chemotherapy or people who have HIV. Marijuana has also been linked to help with anxiety, pain, depression, insomnia, and glaucoma. In some cases, it's also been known to help bloggers come up with bizarre post ideas and make some people think they can fly or learn how to play the drums.
10. Helps you better cope with the pain of knowing that you're about to lose in the "Best of OKC" to a damn coupon card website.
At least that's what I heard.
Anyway, that's my list. And I was able to make it through the entire thing without some lame Wayne Coyne reference. Go me!
Oklahoma Laws


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Standing at the bottom of the crater beside the subway cars, in the shadow of the tall buildings that loomed above, Ellie said aloud what Joel was thinking.
"Holy shit," she gasped. "We actually made it."
Joel sucked in a breath and looked around. "Everyone okay?"
"Yes," Tess nodded. "Let's move."
They began the arduous climb out of the crater, making their way to the street above. Joel raked his fingernails against his bare arm. Moving through the bombed-out building had covered him with dust particles that now irritated his sweat-soaked skin. He cursed. The gritty coating made his tongue thick and mouth dry. It scratched his eyeballs when he blinked.
What he wouldn't give for a swim in a clear cool pond.
After, he reminded himself. After he and Tess handed the girl over to the Fireflies. Then he'd find a nice large puddle of rainwater. He'd wallow in it.
And a soft mattress too, he thought, somewhere in one of those empty tenement buildings above… Somewhere in the outskirts of the city was a quiet room with a door and a decent bed to flop himself down upon. He could close his eyes and sleep for days - that's how tired he was.
Ellie spoke, jarring him from his thoughts. "You guys are actually good at this."
"It's called 'luck'," Joel groused. "And it is gonna run out."
They continued to climb in silence.
He considered the girl. Was she the key to putting an end to this hellish nightmare? Find a cure, wipe out the disease, rebuild civilization as the Fireflies fervently hoped? He snorted. Talk about pipe dreams. The whole thing sounded crazy. But then again, he'd grown so used to his existence he wondered if he could ever imagine life any other way.
Ah, but who cared, he thought to himself. In a few hours, the girl would be someone else's problem, and he and Tess could take a long-deserved breather.
Maybe they wouldn't return to the quarantine zone after dropping her off. Maybe they would live for a while like their contact outside the city. Find a little town some place where they could hole up. It was his own pipe dream, he knew, but with Robert dead and with the Fireflies riling up the military, maybe it was time to go someplace different for a while. Do what Tess said: lay low.
Lay low, he thought.
He reflected on Tess, how they'd met, the bond they shared. She was a strange mix to him, not quite a lover - he wasn't about to risk that pain again - more of a sister than anything else.
She knew his wound and stayed clear of it, and for that, he was eternally grateful. She had wounds of her own, and his silent acknowledgment of the fact suited them both perfectly. She wasn't looking for a lover; she'd had her pick of those and never drank from the same well twice. It amused Joel how she frightened her male admirers. No one messed with her, and it wasn't because of Joel. It was because the girl could handle her own.
They had finally clawed their way back to the street and were heading for an intersection dominated by a large, red-bricked colonial building to their left.
Tess reached the intersection and stopped.
'Which way we goin', Tess?" Joel asked impatiently.
"Uh…" Tess glanced around, trying to get her bearings. Finally, she pointed down the dark narrow street in front of them. "Capitol building's in this direction."
They picked up their pace and Joel heard crickets chirping in the predawn stillness. They started down the narrow street but stopped. A large white truck had jack-knifed and was wedged lengthwise, blocking their path. Joel could easily make out the giant red lobster painted on its side.
Tess sighed at the obstacle. "How do we get up over this truck?" she asked with irritation in her voice. She was standing ankle-deep in a large puddle of rainwater. She looked around. "Let's see what we can find."
Joel turned his attention to the gaping hole ripped into the side of the red-bricked building to his left. He crept around to the entrance as thunder rumbled miles away. He slipped past the colonial pillars, up the front stairs, and passed through a doorless entry.
The human shapes standing in the darkness caused him to freeze.
There were three of them, hunched slightly together, moaning and croaking, almost as if they were in communion with each other. He glanced around in the darkness. He was standing in a lobby of some sort: the brass velvet rope stands against the wall gave it away. There was a counter and a few wooden cabinets, a bookshelf, and what looked like the hulk of a large mahogany push-cart squatting in the middle.
He thought now was a good opportunity to try out the Molotov cocktail he had found earlier near the body of the dead Firefly. He knelt, slipping off his backpack and retrieved it. He then fished a metal zippo lighter from his pocket, flipped it open, thumbed a flame, and lit the doused strip of cloth hanging from the bottle's mouth.
The flame grew large and bright in his hand, and then he took aim, hoping to land the bottle in the middle of where the three stalkers stood. He tossed it in a lazy arc, and when it smashed against the floor, the volatile liquid spread and caught fire, and instantly the three shapes were bathed in flames.
They screamed and writhed as the searing inferno consumed them. It was a gruesome sight, seeing them die in a literal baptism of fire. But, Joel conceded, at least their suffering was finally over.
To his surprise, the fire didn't spread but died out quickly. It must've been due to the several gaping holes in the walls and the cracks in the ceiling; the entire room was rainsoaked through and through. He went around the smoldering bodies, coughed from the smoke of the glowing embers, and searched through the few cabinets for supplies.
Ellie appeared in the gap where the wall used to be with her hand over her mouth. "Jeesh," she muttered, staring at the smoking mounds. Tess appeared behind her.
"They're recently infected. Those soldiers must have just turned," she told the girl.
"Which means there's more in the area," Joel added. "We gotta go."
He hurried to the wooden pushcart, grabbed the slime-covered handle and pushed it to where Ellie was standing. She stepped aside, and Joel wiggled it outside, pushing and pulling it toward the truck. Finally, he had it in place.
He was the first one up the side of the truck. When he reached the top, he stopped to have a look. From where he stood, he had a good view of what lie ahead. The dark clouds had parted, and a tip of the white moon peeked over a building in the far distance.
His heart sank. Not more than fifty yards away, the overhead walkway connecting the buildings had collapsed and now formed a barrier blocking any egress down the street. He dropped down the other side anyway, hoping there was another way.
Tess and the girl were right behind him, making their way up and over.
The side panel of the truck was open; Joel turned on his flashlight and ducked inside to have a look. Something slick reflected the beam and he bent down to scoop it up. It was a torn page from a medical pamphlet that had been widely circulated at the start of the infection.
A helluva lot of good it did, Joel thought, shaking his head.
Tess and the girl had gone ahead, moving toward the barricade. He jogged to catch up. Now Tess had her light on and was shining it against an enclave in the wall to her left.
"Joel, over here," she called out in a hushed whisper.
As he approached, he saw the chain first, then the closed metal door beside it. "Maybe we can cut through here," he said.
"Yeah, that worked out great last time," Ellie said abruptly. Tess shot her a look. "Sorry," she said with a meek shrug. "I'm just saying."
Joel gripped the chain firmly with both hands and pulled. It made such a noisy racket that he grimaced, knowing he was giving away their position.
It was too late to stop, and even though he thought he heard something in the distance, he kept tugging. Progress was slow but he kept at it, pulling one hand over the other, grunting from the effort. He felt Tess's hand touch his shoulder.
"Shh," she hissed.
He froze, straining not to let the chain slip.
"What?" he asked in a hushed whisper. "I don't hear anything." He may not have heard it, but Tess's hearing was better than his.
"Okay," she said, motioning quickly with her hands. "Double-time."
Joel resumed yanking down the chain, trying to move faster. With every inch, the door got heavier, and he was struggling to maintain his grip. "Oh shit," he cursed, as the sounds grew louder. He put his all into it, focusing on nothing else but opening that goddamn door.
"They're coming," Ellie gasped, looking at Joel with panic in her eyes.
"I know," he shouted. He grimaced and pulled and pulled and pulled.
"Okay, that's good, that's good," Tess said quickly. She grabbed Ellie by the collar and pushed her toward the door. "Go!"
His hands still gripping the chain, Joel glanced over his shoulder and saw the arms flailing in the shadows. The sound of their groans told him they were almost upon them.
Tess and Ellie slipped under the small gap under the door and he saw fingers emerge from the other side, gripping the bottom, lifting it for him. Tess shouted, "Okay, Joel!" and he released his own grip and moved to slip underneath.
He was tugged backwards.
He felt hands gripping his backpack, arms wrapping around his legs. He tore himself loose and rolled underneath just as the girls released their grip. The heavy metal door closed with a thundering crash.
Joel was quickly on his feet, backing away. The room echoed the sound of bodies throwing themselves against the metal door, banging, screaming and moaning, desperate to seize their prey. Ellie and Tess were beside him, backing away as well.
After a moment, the maddening noise subsided. Ellie tapped Joel's shoulder and pointed.
"Uh, you got something on your shoe."
Joel looked down. In a circle of light he saw a severed hand that had refused to let go of his boot. He grunted with disgust and shook the disembodied limb free. It landed with a cold slap against the concrete floor.
"Gross," Tess said.
They collectively exhaled a sigh of relief, glad to be safe, and together they turned to see where they were. The crisscrossing beams of their flashlights revealed that they were now standing in a small warehouse of some sort. A large transportation truck sat with its back bumper against a loading dock.
"Okay," Joel said with another sigh. "How do we get out of this place?"
Tess was busy searching for the answer. "Let's find out," she said.
Joel walked along the length of the truck and hoisted himself onto the dock. All he saw were wooden crates lining the back wall. What he heard was a conversation between Tess and the girl:
"So Marlene thinks you're immune?"
"Well, that's what she believes."
Joel held his tongue. Against another wall, beside a gray metal door, he spotted a workbench with a light attached to a car battery. He went to it and discovered with satisfaction that the thing still had juice.
"Here we go," he said. He slid off his backpack in preparations to make improvements to his kit.
"Well, how were you bitten?" Tess persisted. "I mean, you must've been somewhere you shouldn't to find an infected in the zone."
"Yeah, I'd sneak out. I was in this military boarding school."
"You'd sneak out?" she asked, her voice incredulous.
"You know, explore the city. I was in the mall when I ran into infected."
"That place is completely off-limits," Tess told her. "How the hell did you get in there?"
"I... had my ways," Ellie said. "Anyways, one of those -- what you guys call runners -- bit me. And that was that."
"I see," Tess said. She didn't reveal anything from her tone, but Joel knew the wheels were spinning, truing up the pieces.
"Were you with Marlene when you were bitten?" she asked.
"No. I went to her for help afterwards."
"Knowing her," Tess chuckled, "I'm surprised she didn't shoot you."
"She almost did." Ellie sighed. "Hope she's alright."
"I told you," Tess said sharply. "She's gonna be fine." Now Joel chuckled to himself. If the girl hadn't guessed it: when Tess said something, she meant it.
Satisfied with his modifications, Joel flicked the battery-powered light off and slipped his pack back over his shoulders. He tried the door next to the bench and to his relief, it opened. He went through and the girls followed him.
They were in a dark storage room. He saw a long desk with a computer on it, lots of boxes and crates. A foul odor hung in the air. The walls were covered with posters and corkboards and other miscellaneous office junk. White fragments of broken ceiling tiles littered the floor.
The room had two other doors. Joel went to the one on his right and opened it. He entered another office room like the one he had left. There were a few desk drawers and he search through each of them.
He saw another door and went through it and entered a larger room. Part of the floor above had collapsed. The air here was heavy with mildew and rot. There was no other unchecked exit from the room, so he moved to the base of the collapsed wooden floor and slowly made his way up.
Rainwater poured down from above. The unbroken section of the floor sagged under its own weight. Joel wasn't sure it would support him, so he stepped on it gently, testing it with the pressure of his foot.
His focus was broken when he heard a small crash behind him and then heard the girl curse in response. He spun to see what it was and caught her guilt-ridden face in the beam of his light.
"Sorry, sorry" she said, raising her hands. "That was me."
"Tess," Joel cursed, looking at the girl.
"Sorry," Ellie said again, for the third time.
"C'mon." Tess led the girl away from Joel's angry glare. "Stay close to me."
He took a deep breath and resumed studying the floor above him. He reached up and tested the sturdiness of a section of the wooden floor and, feeling satisfied, lifted himself up.
Through a set of open double-doors, he spied a hallway with a well-worn, blue carpet running down its center. More open doorways fed off the hallway with shadows beyond. The walls of the hallway were white; dingy chair rail molding ran along its length.
He went through the double-doors, turning to his right down another hallway. He immediately discovered that the way was blocked with fallen rubble. "Shit," he cursed under his breath.
He turned to his left where another door stood cracked open. This place is a damn maze, he cursed to himself. He heard Ellie's voice as she and Tess followed in his footsteps:
"What is this place?"
"It's an old museum," Tess informed her. "Some of these things are hundreds of years old."
"Really?" the girl replied. "Wow."
Joel kept moving through the rooms, over floors covered in debris. Whenever he came to an antique case or cabinet, he'd open the glass doors or slide the drawer open. Sometimes he found something useful, like a piece of sharp metal, or an oily rag. Most of the time they were empty, but in one he found a Firefly dog tag and slipped it into his pocket.
In one of the glass cases stood a mannequin dressed as a revolutionary war soldier. The figure was tilted, leaning halfway out of the broken glass, as if trying to escape. He ducked through a doorway that was partially blocked with wooden planks that had been nailed into place as a makeshift barrier.
He entered a room where the ceiling beams had collapsed, but he could see a viable path through the opposite door, and he crouched, trying to make his way through. Ellie and Tess kept close behind him.
The exit was again blocked, this time by a giant gray wooden beam, but there was a long four-by-four wedged underneath. If he could use the four-by-four as cantilever, he might be able to create a gap wide enough for the girls to slip through.
"Alright," he said, gripping the four-by-four. "Watch your head." He bent at the knees, keeping his back straight and lifted with a loud groan. The heavy wooden beam rose.
"Hurry," he urged, straining under the weight. "Go, go, go."
He cursed at the force needed, and just as Tess followed Ellie through, the cantilever broke in two and the beam collapsed with a thunderous crash, raining splintered wood particles and debris down upon him. He feared for a split-second the entire ceiling would come crashing down on him, crushing him underneath.
He gasped and blinked his eyes. Lucky for him, the ceiling held.
He heard Tess's frantic cry from the other side. "Joel, Joel!"
"I'm alive!" he called out. Barely! He caught his breath, shook the dust from his eyes. "I'll… I'll make my way around to you."
"Oh!" Ellie's voice cried out. "Look, they're here!"
"Goddammit!" he cursed. He couldn't see what they were facing. "Tess?!" he cried out.
"Run," he heard Tess tell the girl. "RUN!"
He heard the clicking sound and felt an icy chill run down his spine. "Shit," he cursed again, pulling himself from the rubble. He had to make his back way to them.
He got to his feet quickly, staying crouched under in order to move under the low ceiling. His beam caught sight on an exit he hadn't noticed before and he hurried to it, staying quiet. He slipped into stealth mode as adrenaline filled his veins.
He came out into another hallway.
"Tess," he whispered loudly.
There was nothing but silence.
He moved down the hall, saw a door leading to an adjacent room, saw and heard the clicker simultaneously a dozen feet away, and without hesitation, pulled a makeshift shiv from his back pocket.
Without stopping, he moved through another open doorway and entered. The flashlight told him the room was empty. It looked like a concession stand, with a display counter for candy and the relic of an old popcorn machine.
He called out again for Tess and again there was no reply. "Shit!" he cursed.
He found the next door locked and he jimmied it open with his shiv. It was a small storage room and here finally his luck changed. He found ammo matching his pistol, along with a few other articles of value which he quickly shoved into his backpack.
He realized he had enough ingredients for another Molotov, which he quickly fashioned.
He left the room and headed through a door to his immediate left and found himself staring at the back of a clicker who was swaying drunkenly in the corner of the hall. Following his instincts, he spun back around and slipped through another open doorway behind him.
He found himself in a high-ceilinged room with a giant display at its center: a soldier on a saddle horse. All around him he heard the hideous clicking noises; the room was full of them. It could be that Tess and the girl were not far off, hiding like himself in the shadows. If he knew Tess, she was trying to make her way up, looking for an exit.
Unfortunately, the clickers roaming through the halls made it impossible to speak, so he had no way of knowing for sure.
He turned another corner, saw a doorway - had he passed here before? As he edged closer, a clicker jerked aimlessly past him, unaware of his presence. Again, he let the threat slip by. He wasn't making any rash move until he knew where the girls were hiding, and he swore to himself he would find them.
As the clicker passed, he spotted a closed set of double wooden doors on the other side of the hallway. This was new, he told himself. He snuck across the hall and slowly turned the handle…
He found himself in an outer hallway with a stairway at its far end. Light from the emerging dawn strained in through mildew-covered windows. He quickly made his way down the white-walled hall, turned to his left and up the stairs.
When he reached the middle landing, he heard a sound. Pounding. He girded himself and continued up, fearing what he might find. There was another set of double doors, closed, and he reached out with one hand and carefully turned the handle. The door creaked open and he slipped through, finding himself in yet another long hallway, now on the floor above.
At the end of the hall, a runner was throwing himself bodily against a locked door, desperate with rage to get through. Joel instinctively released a sigh, knowing what it most likely meant: Tess and Ellie must be on the other side.
He lunged up at the creature, gripping its neck in his stranglehold, crushing its windpipe. He let the body fall aside just as he heard Tess's frantic voice behind the closed door:
"Ellie, stay back!"
Gunshots followed, and Joel rose and kicked the door open, splinters flying in all directions. He busted in, drawing his revolver at the same time.
"Tess!" he yelled, looking around in panic.
He saw her desperately fighting off one of the infected. She managed to push it away and swing a heavy two-by-two at its chin, sending the runner reeling to the ground. She lifted the weapon above her head and brought it down hard, smashing the skull to bits.
He ran to her and relief filled her eyes. "I'm fine," she gasped, anticipating his question.
She threw the splintered piece of wood to the floor. As he took a moment to register her face, he heard Ellie's voice shouting from the other room:
"Guys, get in here!"
"The girl!" Tess exclaimed. She raced through the open doorway.
"Shit!" Joel cursed.
He raced into the room, could see the girl struggling with a runner. Both he and Tess raised their weapons simultaneously, knowing what it meant. He was careful to aim high, and in the next instant, bullets rang out in blinding flashes.
His shots landed on target, sending brain fragments into the air, and the body of the dead runner flopping to the ground.
Ellie was crouched low with her hands over her head. She quickly regained her senses and ran to Joel's side. They were coming now, all of them, attracted by the sound of gunfire, and Joel without hesitation ignited the oily cloth hanging from the neck of the bottle in his hand.
He hurled the Molotov into the hallway just as the thundering footsteps arrived.
The left side of the room was set ablaze. The infected kept charging, and he fired into the flames, gunfire ringing in his ears. Down they went, one after another. Tess was firing madly to his right. He had no idea where Ellie was; he only hoped the girl had managed to get behind him.
When the last runner fell, the place grew silent. The room was filled with nothing but sputtering flames and lingering gun smoke. The only sound, their own heavy breathing.
Joel couldn't believe they had survived. "That was too damn close," he gasped.
With heaving shoulders, he joined Tess and Ellie over in the far corner of the room. They were standing in front of a window beside billowing drapes with a golden ray of sunlight angling in.
Tess was bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. Ellie was standing quietly beside her.
Tess expelled a breath and said, "Oh, shit."
Joel's thoughts exactly.
The breeze coming in through the window felt good against his sweat-soaked shirt.
He looked over at his partner and asked, "Tess, how are you holding up?"
"Just a bit winded," she said. She caught her breath and motioned to the open window. "This way," she said, abruptly before slipping out. "This'll get us to the roof."
Alone with the kid, Joel looked at her. He felt compelled to say something.
"How 'bout you, kid? You okay?"
"Define okay," the girl panted.
"Are you still breathing?"
She wiped the sweat from her eyes with her forearm. "Do small, panicked breaths count?"
"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "They count."
"Alright." she said. "Then I'm okay."
Satisfied, he climbed through the window, went up the fire escape, and joined the woman standing at the edge of the rooftop. She looked exhausted.
"There she is," Tess said, pointing toward the dome. "That's our building."
He turned his head to the horizon. Standing on the wide, corrugated panels, they had a clear view of the capitol building from the rooftop. Behind it, the sky was painted in a gentle pink and fringed by thin, purplish clouds.
The air felt cool and refreshing. It blew through Joel's damp hair, it filtered through the tee-shirt soaked in perspiration.
Glancing to his right, he caught sight of the Firefly emblem painted in black on the brick facade on the adjacent rooftop. Someone had spray-painted a dripping white circle in its center, adding the impressing of a shining star.
Joel leaned over the metal railing and looked down. It was quite a drop and there were no exits in sight. They needed to make their way across, to the ivy-covered rooftop several yards away.
He looked around the rooftop on which they were standing. Over in the corner was a long wooden plank lying along the cracked concrete surface, not far from the rusted metal railing.
He went over and picked it up - it was heavy - and he carried it to the edge where Tess stood, still peering silently at the horizon.
"Stand back," he warned her. She was jarred from her thoughts and stepped aside.
He placed one end of the plank on the railing of the roof and let the other end fall to the ledge of the building facing them.
"Alright," he said, positioning it carefully. To Ellie, he said: "Now watch your step as you're going up 'cause it's going to be a little --"
The girl looked at him and made a "pssh" sound with her lips. She walked past him and stepped up on the board without hesitation. Joel turned to Tess, but she just shook her head as if to say, "Kids".
The girl walked across the board with her arms outstretched. Dust fell where the plank groaned under her weight. She reached the other side safely and hopped down.
Joel went next, and even though the girl wasn't watching, he felt compelled to match her bravado. He'd done this a hundred times, but feared if he slipped now, he'd suffer the embarrassment worse than the fall.
He crossed and dropped down beside her. She was staring at the horizon.
"Well," he said, motioning to the glinting dome and the pink horizon beyond. "Is that everything you hoped for?"
"Jury's still out," she conceded. "But man," she sighed, "you can't deny that view."
He looked at her a moment and a vague feeling swept over him. It was equal parts warm and terrifying. He didn't like nor understand it.
Tess moved past them. "C'mon," she said. "This way."
Something caused him to look down at the arms folded across his chest. His eyes went to the busted watch on his wrist, and for a moment, he was lost to himself.
"Hey," Tess said with unnecessary hostility. "Pick it up."
He was jerked out of the comfort of a distant memory. In its wake he felt a strange melancholy.
He followed her to the edge of the rooftop where the curved handles of a metal ladder stood waiting for them.
Tess suddenly turned to him. "Look," she said in a serious tone. "We're almost done. Stay focused."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, matching her tone.
They descended the metal rung ladder and landed in a small grassy landing enclosed on all sides by buildings. There was a set of concrete steps nearby with an iron railing that offered a way down.
"It's right around this corner," Tess said urgently. "C'mon."
He noticed the girl's slumped shoulders and sensed her exhaustion. "Keep moving, kid."
They walked down the steps in silence.
They made their way all the way down, past three landings, until they finally reached the point where the stairs ended. They found themselves in a small grassy plaza surrounded by buildings. In front of them stood a walkway: a narrow gap between two of the buildings. Joel saw that it was blocked by a heavy iron gate.
They took a moment to get a handle on what to do next and that's when Joel spotted the dark splotches of blood coming from the locked gate.
The trail of blood went past him, back toward the concrete steps they had just descended. He hadn't noticed any blood on the steps coming down, so when he turned around and peered to his right, he saw that the trail disappear around the steps, and moving to follow it, saw that it ended in an area where garbage cans lay strewn.
That's when he noticed the body.
"Look at this," he called over to Tess.
A dead Firefly sat amid the garbage with his back against the corner of ivy-covered walls.
As Tess and Ellie approached, Joel saw the blood-stained note lying beside the man. He picked it up and read the typed words:
"ORDERS: Patrol the rendezvous area. Ensure no military presence before moving the girl to the next safehouse."
Below it, written in cursive handwriting, the blue ink read: "Make sure the girl is well fed and in good health. Her safety is of the utmost importance."
"There's a Firefly logo on his arm," Ellie said, pointing at the corpse. She stood beside him; her young voice filled with worry. "What if we get there and they're all dead?"
"They won't be," Tess said sharply.
"But, how do you know?"
"I just do," she exclaimed. Joel noted the odd look on her face and suddenly was filled with unease.
Tess sighed and released her shoulders. "Look," she said softly to the girl, "it's gonna be fine."
"Okay," Ellie said, lowering her head.
Joel heard Tess mumble something to herself. It almost sounded like, "It has to be," but he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it didn't ease his growing concern that something was amiss.
He turned his attention back to the exit.
The iron gate was the only way out and it was firmly locked. He glanced up and saw the wooden platform above it, just slightly out of climbing reach. Looking around, he spotted an aged dumpster near the base of the stairs.
He grabbed the handle and rolled it over to the locked gate.
It clanged noisily as he pushed it against the iron doors. Looking through the walkway, Joel could see that they only had a short distance to go to reach the street.
"Up and over," he said, hoisting himself first onto the dumpster and then scurrying up to the wooden platform.
The edge of the platform had a yellow strip of caution tape nailed to it. Joel traversed the short platform, stepping over several old cans of paint. He dropped silently on the other side and turned the corner. The dome appeared just up ahead.
"There we go," he said with relief.
Their destination was just a short distance away, at the end of a sloping wide lane where a few cars sat in rusted ruins. At the end of the lane spawned a large moss-covered pond which surrounded a roman-columned gazebo.
The building was late eighteenth-century, majestic in size, light brown, with handsome porticoes and balustrades in front. The pillars stretched from the steps all the way up to the highest floor. Capping the giant neoclassical structure was the bright gold dome that still retained some of its luster.
He headed down the middle of the lane, with a regal brick and iron fenced gate surrounding the capitol grounds on his right.
"Home stretch, Tess," he said, his heart filled with encouragement.
They picked up their pace, being so close, with Tess hurrying to the lead. It was almost over, thought Joel; this perilous journey was soon coming to an end. He was anxious for it to be over, anxious to hand over the girl and rid himself of the persistent nagging sensation that had plagued him since leaving the quarantine zone.
There would be plenty of time to rest and relax afterwards, maybe even spend a few minutes bathing in that pond. He licked his dry lips. And then, after that, find a nice quiet hole to curl up in and fall asleep.
The girl's tentative voice jarred him from his thoughts.
"Um," she said, "just so it's out there… I can't swim."
Tess grunted and said, "Look, it looks like it's shallow on the right side. Follow me."
They entered the murky green water and Joel braced against the sudden chill. A gray mist hovered over the pond as they waded past the car roofs that were still visible.
"I'm glad Marelene hired you guys," Ellie said abruptly.
"What do you mean?" asked Tess.
The water reached Joel's waist and he shivered from its bite.
"I know you guys are getting paid for this, but…" she hesitated, "I'm trying to say thanks."
"Yeah," Tess replied. "Sure thing."
Swishing through the pond, with their arms above the water, they made their way past a delivery truck of some kind, slipped past a partially submerged Yellow Cab, and finally emerged sopping wet on the wide set of steps leading to the majestic front doors.
The sun had cleared the horizon, and now, walking up the long steps, Joel welcomed the warmth of its rays on his back.
Being so close to the end of their journey, they hurried up the steps, passing short, square columns of stone. The base of the pillars was covered in thick, spongy moss. Just ahead lie the entrance columns and double doors. The surrounding area was eerily quiet.
They reached the pillared entrance, Tess first, and they looked around. No other living soul was in sight; they heard absolute silence. Without a word of preamble, Joel placed his hand on the doors and pushed them open.
Immediately his heart sank.
"No," came Tess's strangled cry behind him. "No, no, no."
Spread out on the cracked floor of the main hall lay the bodies of three Fireflies. Each had fallen in gun battle, and each lay motionless in a wide pool of their own dark blood.
Joel saw the look of confusion on Ellie's young face and he sighed. All this way for nothing.
Now, what the hell were they going to do?
Tess scampered to one of the bodies on hands and knees, oblivious to the congealed blood that soon covered her hands and knees. She frantically searched a body as Joel hovered over her, watching dumbfounded.
Ellie looked up at Joel and raised her shoulders: "What happens now?"
He sighed. He didn't want to be the one to have to tell her.
He walked over to Tess, saw her frantically going through the pockets of a dead Firefly, her hands and arms painted red.
"What are you doing, Tess?"
"Oh god," she panted frantically. She scurried on all fours to the next body and started another search. "Maybe they, ah, maybe they had a map or something to tell us where they were going."
Joel was taken aback by her actions. "How far we gonna take this?" he asked with exhaustion.
She jerked her head and stared up at him. "As far as it needs to go." She glanced quickly over at the girl. "Where was this lab of theirs?" she asked in desperation.
Ellie seemed caught off-guard. She shook her head. "Uh, she never said. She only mentioned that it was someplace out west."
Joel again leaned over Tess as she searched a body looking for some sliver of hope. "What are doing here?" he asked. "This is not us."
"What do you know about us?" Tess spat, rising to her feet. She stared at him hard. "About me?"
"I know that you are smarter than this," he said firmly, pointing down at the dead body lying at her feet.
"Really?" she said, cocking her head at him. There was an odd cruelty in her voice. "Guess what, we're shitty people, Joel. It's been that way for a long time."
"No," he shouted. "We are survivors."
"This is our chance --" she continued, pleading with open, blood-stained palms. Joel interrupted her, raising his voice so that it echoed through the chamber. "No! It is over, Tess!"
She looked at him and shuddered, surprised by his vitriol. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "Now we tried," he said, his tone softening. "Let's just go home."
Tess looked at him and shook her head. With an uncharacteristic sadness in her eyes, she told him: "I'm not-- I'm not going anywhere." She swallowed hard. "This is my last stop."
"What?" he asked, trying to grasp her meaning.
She lowered her head and turned away. He saw her shoulders slump. "Our luck had to run out sooner or later."
"What are you going on about?" He reached out to her so that she would turn to face him.
"No, don't!" she screamed, knocking his hand away.
Lowering her gaze to the floor, she said softly, "Don't touch me."
Joel recoiled. He was shocked and confused by her words, her demeanor. None of this made any sense. And then he heard the girl speak behind him.
"Holy shit," Ellie gasped.
He turned and saw the young girl's face turn ashen white. She looked at him and nodded slowly at Tess.
"She's infected."
What??
Bewildered, Joel turned back to his partner.
"Joel…" Tess stuttered, her moist eyes rising to meet his. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"Let me see," he said, as a hard lump formed in his throat.
"I didn't mean for this…"
"Show it to me!" he ordered.
She reached up with one hand, grabbed the collar of her shirt, and yanked it to one side.
Her collarbone was clearly broken, the skin punctured. Surrounding the wound were deep red gashes trickling with blood. She hadn't just been bitten; her bone had been broken in two.
And she had never said a word about it.
Joel felt consumed by fire, a flash of white searing heat swept over his body.
"Oh christ," he gasped.
Tess, his friend, his partner… the only thing in this world worth caring about… She had been mortally wounded, brutally, and he hadn't even realized it.
"Oops," she said. "Right?"
He turned away, swallowing the lump.
Tess rushed to the girl. "Gimme your arm."
She grabbed the girl's wrist, dragging her along with it, over to Joel to confront him.
"This was three weeks," she said, pointing at the scarred wound. "I was bitten an hour ago and it's already worse."
He tried to turn away again, but she wouldn't let him.
"This is fucking real, Joel. You've got to get this girl to Tommy's. He used to run with this crew, he'll know where to go."
Joel reeled on his heels. "No, no, no," he said, shaking his head. He jabbed a finger at her: "That was your crusade," and then at the girl: "I am not doing that."
"Yes, you are," she told him.
"Look," she said, moving in close, close enough he could feel her breath on his cheek. Her hands rose to him and she spoke to him in a hushed whisper: "There's enough here that you have to feel some sort of obligation to me."
She pointed at the girl and said firmly. "So you get her to Tommy's."
A noise from outside made her curse and she spun to face the door: the sound of a vehicle screeching to a halt outside. There was no time…
Tess ran to the window, stood on her toes to peer out.
"Watch the exit!" Joel heard a soldier cry out. The order was followed by the sound of shouting, boots smashing the ground, the metallic click of weapons being armed.
Joel didn't have to see outside to know that a truckload of soldiers had just arrived.
"They're here," Tess said calmly, her gun drawn. She turned and stared at Joel.
"Dammit," he cursed under his breath.
"I can buy you some time, but you have to run."
"What?" Ellie asked, incredulous. "You want us to leave you?"
Without hesitation, Tess said "Yes," and nodded.
Joel started. "There is no way that --" he began, but Tess cut him off.
"I will not turn into one of those things," she told him.
Sensing his hesitation, she moved in on him. "C'mon," she whispered. She looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Make this easy for me."
And for the first time in his life, he saw something he'd never seen before…
Tears filled her eyes.
"I can fight," Joel said, his voice cracking.
"No, just go!" she shouted through her tears, shoving him away. "Just fucking go!"
He gave her one last look. Without shifting his gaze, he croaked, "Ellie --"
"I'm sorry," Ellie rambled. "I didn't -- I didn't mean for this."
"Get a move on," he scolded her, fighting back his own tears. He still hadn't released Tess from his gaze.
When Ellie hurried past him, Joel slowly followed, walking backwards, his eyes still locked on Tess. It was the last time he'd ever see her alive, and he didn't want to turn away, not until he absolutely had to.
He finally turned and hurried after the girl, wiping away the wetness from his eyes, knowing he'd left Tess to die on her own, to sacrifice herself so he and the girl could escape, and he was crushed by the guilt.
Heavy footsteps rushed to the steps of the entrance. Tess watched as Joel and the girl dissolved into the shadows and were gone, and then she exhaled a long-suffering breath and her shoulders relaxed. A strange calm came over her as she turned to face the doors.
"We know you're in there!" a soldier's voice cried out. "Drop you weapons and come out with your hands up."
She stepped backwards toward the center of the room, taking up position, raising her weapon. She took a deep breath; a quiet peace filled her in the solemn stillness of the cathedral-like building. If she had to die, this was as good a place as any.
She steadied both hands on the weapon, cocked her head to one side, and aimed the muzzle at the opening door.
Posted by Richard Garrison at 12:11 PM
The Last of Us Epilogue
The Last of Us Novelization - Chapter Twenty-Two: ...
The Last of Us Novelization - Chapter Twenty-One: ...
The Last of Us Novelization - Chapter Twenty: An E...
The Last of Us Novelization - Chapter Nineteen: An...


As New York (especially Brooklyn) rents continue to rise, people are beginning to explore new neighborhoods with the help of their bikes. By utilizing cycles, people can live in parts of Brooklyn, Queens or even Manhattan that may not be adequately served by public transportation, and still have a convenient commute to work and easy access to local amenities. This past Sunday the NYT Real Estate section focused in on the topic of bike commuting and apartment hunting in NYC. Brooklyn neighborhoods such as Wallabout, Clinton Hill, Greenpoint, and Red Hook were mentioned as great, more affordable places to live that are relatively easy to access via a bicycle. In fact, as the article mentions, some real estate companies in the city have noticed biking's increased popularity and have begun mentioning nearby Citi Bike stations as part of a properties amenities. Local commercial districts benefit from this trend as well – by increasing the area from which businesses draw customers.
Biking has a host of benefits – environmental to fiscal – and can even help lessen commute times for some people. For example, I live in Crown Heights, Brooklyn and used to work in the East Village. The commute door to door on the C and F trains was roughly 45 minutes assuming everything was running on schedule. However, the bike route along Flushing, over the Manhattan Bridge and up the Allen Street bike median was a quick 30 minutes and mostly in protected bike lanes. Last summer biking everyday to the East Village helped me save money, get in shape, and most importantly (for me) get outside. As a full time graduate student, with a full time job I wasn't often able to enjoy summer's warm weather, but the bike commute ensured I'd see the sun for at least an hour a day.
Biking opens different parts of the city to you and makes traveling much more enjoyable than sitting on a subway or in a car. You are able to explore parts of the city you wouldn't otherwise visit and notice the little things that make each neighborhood unique, such as shops with unique window displays and signs, buildings painted unusual colors, and murals painted along the city's small streets. And, as an avid biker, I will say that easy and plentiful bike parking is often enough to entice me into visiting a store or area. If parking is hard to find or far away from my destination (bar, restaurant, etc.), I am more likely to scrap my plans and keep looking for a new location. Bike corrals in business districts and well placed racks on busy streets can make all the difference in the world when I'm out running errands.
Something that rings true for cyclists and that was mentioned in the NYT article is the ease at which you can move through the city. It is very easy for me to take a quick 30 minute or less bike ride from my home to Red Hook, Green Point, or even Chelsea; however, for those who rely on public transportation these trips can take upwards to an hour after walking to the stop, for connections, and traffic. These long trip times can be a deterrent to people and sometimes prevent them from visiting certain parts of the city.
The NYT article included a map showing the change in percent of bike commuters in Brooklyn, Lower Manhattan and Southern Queens from 1990-2012. The most significant changes happened from 2000-2012, with some areas going from 0%-14% in those 12 years. As cycling continues to grow in both popularity and convenience you can bet that various areas of the city will see new visitors and residents taking advantage of this mode of transportation.
Melanie Truhn is a full time graduate student in Pratt Institute's City and Regional Master's Program. When she's not biking around Brooklyn she can found in Prospect Park with her pups.


The Trishaw rides will begin at 10am and finish at 12noon.
Watford Cycle Hub will be running Mothers Day Trishaw rides in Cassiobury Park from 10am to 12noon on 31st March.
There are two seats on the Trishaw, with a 'Pilot' riding you around the pathway circuit.
There will be an open booking process for places on the Trishaws on the day. These will be short duration rides of around 10 to 15 minutes per ride.
The rides will start and finish from outside the Cha café and the route will be a loop around the pathways up towards Rickmansworth Road.
Watford Borough Council have generously provided the Trishaws. As well as being used on some of the Watford Ride Programme, the Trishaws will be used on other occasions as part of a project that will help elderly and disabled residents to become more active.
Please come to the park with your mum and join us for a Trishaw ride.
Depending on the number of bookings made we may be unable to find a place for you to enjoy a Trishaw ride on the day, but there will be other opportunities available soon.


text:
Viewers and key demographic up –
Last Friday's live Extreme Rules go-home episode of WWE SmackDown, drew an average of 2.135 million viewers on FOX, according to showbuzzdaily.com.
This final number is up from the overnight ratings released last Saturday, which had an average of 2.090 million viewers.
In the key 18-49 demographic, last Friday night's WWE SmackDown drew a 0.55 rating, which is down from the 0.58 rating the show had last week.
Last Friday's WWE SmackDown came in at No. 1 for the night on network television, which is up from the No. 2 spot the show had last week.
Last week's final viewership was 2.243 million viewers.
You can watch the Top 10 Friday Night SmackDown moments below:
Viewership down, key demographic up for 2-hour special –
Watch WWE NxT 2.0 9/28/2021 Full Show Online Free


text:
How the U.S. Almost Beat the Soviets to the First Man in Space
Ron Miller
The US was in something of a panic after the Soviets put Sputnik in orbit. There was already a satellite program in the works, but Wernher von Braun proposed something more spectacular. He suggested that an astronaut be launched on a suborbital, ballistic flight.
The pilot would occupy a near-duplicate of the capsule used in the Air Force's Man High stratosphere balloon flights, which had successfully carried pilots to altitudes of nearly 30 miles.
The idea was very similar to the British Megaroc that had been proposed shortly after the war. This would have utilized a German V-2 to launch a pilot on a sub-orbital ballistic flight.
Von Braun's capsule would be contained in a sealed cylinder which in turn would be carried in a horizontal position in the rocket's nose cone. In the case of an emergency during launch, the cylinder could be ejected into a nearby pool of water. The nose cone also contained the recovery parachutes and life support equipment.
This assembly would be placed atop an Army Redstone missile, which would act as the booster. By using almost entirely off-the-shelf equipment, von Braun believed the flight could be made before the end of 1959 at a cost of less than $12 million.
"Project Adam" would launch an astronaut to an altitude of 150 miles. After experiencing nearly 6 minutes of free fall, he would splash down into the Atlantic, 150 miles away from the launch site at Cape Canaveral.
The entire project would require the cooperation of the Army, which had developed the Redstone rocket, the Air Force, which had developed the capsule, and the Navy, which would provide the recovery. Unfortunately, one of the major factors in the downfall of Project Adam proved to be resistance from the Air Force, which was promoting funding for its own manned space flight project, the $100 million Man-in-Space-Soonest program. Von Braun then pitched the idea as an Army-only project, with the Navy still providing recovery, and reduced the price tag to $4.75 million.
Although Hugh Dryden, the director of NACA (which became NASA when the Mercury program was created shortly thereafter), sneered that "tossing a man up in the air and letting him come back . . . is about the same technical value as the circus stunt of shooting a young lady from a cannon. . . ." it is exactly what occurred only a couple of years later, when a Redstone rocket launched Alan Shepard on a suborbital flight...only a few weeks after the Russians placed the first man in orbit. Shepard's flight cost $360 million.