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Obsession, Obsessively Told: A Review of Tom McCarthy's Remainder
Andrew Saikali February 26, 2007 | 2 books mentioned 3 min read
What if… What if you were an anonymous urbanite, going about your daily routine in, say, London, when some indescribable airborne object falls through the nothingness and crash-lands on your head, forever altering your somethingness…
What if that happened, and then it's months later. You've doubled back from the abyss and there you are, at home, relearning everything. Physically you're fine, but there's a gaping hole where your sense of connection used to be. A piece of the puzzle is missing and with it your own sense of reality. You wish you could piece together some sense of your previous self because only then, you think, you'd be complete. Occasionally you brush up against that reality – a scrap of paper, a passing word – something to tease you, to trigger the connection with your past, with your self.
And then the money. You learn that your bank balance has shot through the stratosphere, the result of a settlement from the perpetrators of your condition. And now, as they say, money is no object.
You think long and hard and you decide that the best use for your magical millions is to attempt to regain your reality – to rebuild, in every way, and by any means necessary, your vaguely-remembered life. This is the ultra-high concept of Tom McCarthy's meticulously plotted and crafted Remainder.
A rational search through memory doesn't work so our hero opts for the irrational. A memory shake-up. Everything in his past would have left a mark of some sort – some kind of footprint. So he sets out to trigger these marks randomly. Though consciously implementing a random search cancels out its randomness.
Eventually, he plots the few vague or triggered memories that he has and tries to rebuild his surroundings around them so that every step within this recreated environment would trigger his sense of whole. So he buys an apartment building that resembles the one in his memory, and then the surrounding buildings, alters them to match the half-remembered images in his mind. Then he auditions actors to populate his new/old world. These players would be there for him around the clock to repeatedly enact the triggered memories.
You'd think all of this would be implausible, but the rendering is so painstakingly detailed that every time you think, "but what about…?", you find that McCarthy is one step ahead of you. He's already worked out the logical leaps. And once you wrap your mind around the notion that money can buy any service, somehow the improbable becomes possible.
Our hero isn't the most likable of heroes, and more than once I became frustrated with his obsessive, often cruel, perfectionism. But then I remember that every supporting character is on his payroll. Everyone – his long-suffering facilitators, his "actors" – they all knew what they were getting into, at first at least, and are handsomely compensated.
And just how perfect does his recreated environment need to be? Partial success is abject failure. The point for him is to capture the connection, not merely an acceptable re-enactment. And once captured, it must be repeated. Realness is a state, not an isolated action. To experience it, our narrator must return to it again and again. It is only in the constant repetition of a remembered action that he finds the connection that he seeks.
And until when? As the story progresses, you realize that our hero needs to do more than just re-enact his environment over and over again. He reaches a point in his obsession where he must merge with his action, slow down the motion and be one with his environment, with the increasingly hyper-real experiences that he's manufacturing. Only then will he feel complete.
Along with memory gaps, words and concepts have disappeared from our narrator's verbal toolbox. And so we also get a complete sense of narrative process. Like the Tourette's-affected hero of Jonathan Lethem's Motherless Brooklyn, we're privy to the machinations and linguistic somersaults that our narrator goes through to make himself understood.
A story of obsession, then, obsessively told. A meticulously rendered tale of meticulousness itself. It's hard not to feel simultaneously irritated at both the action and the narrator, and yet utterly compelled to see his obsession through.
Andrew Saikali is a writer in Toronto, Canada, and passes his days as a copy editor with The Globe and Mail. He spends his moments of leisure listening to music, reading, watching films and prowling the streets of Toronto, and he feels that he is long-overdue for a vacation so that he can do more of those things. At any given time, he is probably pining for distant shores and really should do more traveling and less pining.
"I Don't Want to Always Write Stories About the Same Kind of Disaffected, Angsty, Youngish Dude:" On Justin Taylor's Flings
Bill Morris September 19, 2014 | 2 books mentioned 6 4 min read
Justin Taylor has been called "a master of the modern snapshot," and in his new collection of short stories, Flings, he lives up to the label. That's good news and bad news.
Taylor, who previously published the story collection Everything Here Is the Best Thing Ever and the novel The Gospel of Anarchy, made a bold pronouncement on the eve of his new collection's publication: "I don't want to always write stories about the same kind of disaffected, angsty, youngish dude."
At this he has succeeded, mightily. Flings has its share of disaffected, angsty, youngish dudes — those generic characters we've come to expect from youngish Brooklyn writers like Taylor — but to his great credit he has stretched himself in these new stories. In "Carol, Alone," for example, we follow a grieving widow through her robotic daily routines in a middling south Florida retirement community. It's told in the first person, which is one of Taylor's strongest suits, but unfortunately it's also told in the present tense, which is one of his weakest tics. Yet the story gets at something deep about the nature of grief. Here's the insomniac widow, Carol, visiting her husband's grave:
When Gerald first died I used to talk to him when I came here, bring him up to speed about our children and friends, the neighborhood – anything I could think of. But whatever this was supposed to make me feel, it didn't, besides which I hated doing it. If Gerald is anywhere he can hear me, I figure then he probably already knows what little news I have to bring…And if he's not anywhere, which is, after all, what we both always expected would be the case, then what am I doing recapping TV shows and mah-jongg winnings to a patch of earth?
The story includes a pair of vivid, linked snapshots: a 7-foot-long alligator slithers out of the canal and falls asleep in Carol's back yard; and late one night she interrupts two teenagers making out on the spot where the alligator recently dozed. Like all the stories in this book, "Carol, Alone" ends without any major epiphanies or breakthroughs, just a lonely widow's quiet resolve to remain connected to life. She does this by spreading food in her back yard, hoping to lure back her alligator, a presence so unexpected it hardly occurred to her to be afraid, a welcome shock. It's a beautiful ending.
Taylor can be funny, too. "Sungold" is one of the strongest stories here, even though it's about a disaffected, angsty, youngish, callow dude named Brian who manages an organic vegetarian pizza restaurant, a job that requires him to stand in front of the place wearing a gigantic fur mushroom suit to attract customers. The view from inside the sweltering suit "is like peering through the hair catch in a shower drain." He notices that black teenage boys will cross the street to avoid coming near the giant mushroom, which inspires this riff:
Now I'll grant you, a guy wearing a full-body fur mushroom suit to promote an organic vegetarian pizza pub is arguably the whitest thing to have occurred in the history of whiteness, but it's not as though it's going to rub off on them. It's not like it's contagious, like breathing the air around me will result in sudden loss of pigmentation, cravings for old Friends episodes, and, I don't know, a Dave Matthews box set.
The owner of the restaurant is Ethan, a trust-fund fuckup, a blackout alcoholic cokehead smokehound who's also bipolar. "Whenever I see a light on in the restaurant after hours," Brian reports, "I knock on the kitchen window, find him rolling blunts at the salad station or deep-throating the spigot on the Jagerator." He adds that "Ethan has the memory of an infant or a goldfish, which is why he's such a shitty capitalist and such an amazing boss." And when a sweat-drenched Brian is liberated from the mushroom suit and forced to wear a waitress's plunging V-neck shirt, he fixes himself a stiff drink, "the logic being that if I'm stuck dressed like a sorority girl at a Phish show then I might as well drink like one." Taylor must have been channeling Sam Lipsyte when he wrote this story, and, as with Lipsyte, the story leads to a small shred of realization that helps make Brian a more complicated and interesting person. And that's enough.
The variety of characters in these stories is proof that Taylor has lived up to his pre-publication proclamation. We get college kids, teenagers, widows, single parents, grad students, waitresses, and 20-somethings with too much education, or not enough. Most of these characters are unmoored somehow, adrift, seeking something they can't quite name. They're also stuck.
In the collection's title story, a group of college friends in Ohio relocate to Oregon for dubious reasons, with dubious results. Their driftiness and lack of grounding in the physical world makes them mere types, not fleshed-out characters. In "Mike's Song," a divorced father goes to a Phish concert with his two grown children while furtively texting his new lover, a story so creepy and uneventful that it'll make you swear off the band forever. "The Happy Valley" is less a story than a diagram, and the prose describing Hong Kong fails to rise above the level of the Fodor's guide the protagonist carries with her. The story doesn't live and breathe on the page. Worse yet is "A Night Out," which reverts to the annoying present tense and, for good measure, is narrated in the tricky second person. This story is everything Taylor claimed he was trying to rise above — a catalog of the predictable nighttime antics of a bunch of disaffected, angsty, youngish New Yorkers with too much money and too little direction. It reads like Jay McInerney Lite, and it's a reminder just what a remarkable achievement Bright Lights, Big City was.
These stories are loaded with memorable snapshots, and that's not a bad thing. But for a writer of Taylor's wit and intelligence, it's no longer enough. Here's hoping he uses his many gifts to move beyond the snapshot and create something full-blown and grand, a panorama teeming with all kinds of characters who owe nothing to the world's legion of disaffected, angsty, youngish dudes. With Flings, he's moving in that direction. If he keeps pushing, I'm sure he'll eventually deliver a big vibrant novel. I'm waiting, eagerly.
Bill Morris | 2 books mentioned 6 4 min read
Mold, Gin, and the Apocalypse: Lars Iyer's Spurious
Emily St. John Mandel February 22, 2011 | 2 books mentioned 1 3 min read
There was a time some years ago when it began to rain in my apartment. I was eighteen, living alone in a large city, going to school all day and working all evening; distracted, in other words, and perhaps not as on-the-ball as I should have been when the shower started dripping. The drip turned into a permanent stream of scathingly hot water, and then the bathroom, being small and virtually airtight—neither of the apartment's windows opened—filled with steam.
Steam, of course, condenses into water, and within a day or two the bathroom had turned almost subtropical. Raindrops fell gently from the ceiling; paint bubbled; water slid down the walls and pooled in the corners; a mushroom appeared in an unreachable corner. I imagined the damage being done to the paint job was irreparable, but this struck me as a reasonable trade-off for the landlord's failure to do anything about the cockroaches.
All this to say that I feel some kinship with Lars, the narrator of Lars Iyer's Spurious, a debut novel and a meditation on friendship, failure, the apocalypse, messianism, and mold. Lars' apartment is being overtaken by a mysterious damp, something altogether darker and more sinister than the indoor rain I dealt with in Toronto all those years ago, originating from somewhere within his kitchen wall. Brown waves of damp spread over the plaster. The wall is wet to the touch. Florid mold blooms in patches and spores drift through the air. Water can be heard rushing somewhere behind the bricks. Experts in the field are baffled.
The damp, it seems, might be symptomatic of larger problems. Specifically, the world is coming to an end. Lars is a writer, as is his "slightly more successful" friend W., and they're united by, among other things, the certainty that we're living in the End of Times. It isn't the easiest of friendships—"One of us is dragging the other down, W. and I decide, but which one? Is it him or me?"—but there's a certain amount of shared history. They've been friends for a while now:
W. remembers when I was up and coming, he tells me. He remembers the questions I used to ask, and how they would resound beneath the vaulted ceilings. —'You seemed so intelligent then', he says. I shrug. 'But when any of us read your work…', he says, without finishing the sentence.
Lars and W. are oddly inseparable, despite W.'s fondness for peppering Lars with verbal abuse. He does it out of love, he says. ("'Yes, I love you', says W. 'You see, I can talk about love. I can express my feelings. Not like you'.")
They are somewhat obsessed with Kafka, although since theirs is a literary friendship, considerations of Kafka raise an unsettling question: which one of them is Kafka, and which one of them is Max Brod? They might both be Brods. It's a possibility. Actually, it seems increasingly probable. They're stuck in the End of Times, and they are neither the men nor the intellectuals whom they'd like to be. "'Compare our friendship,'
says W., 'to that of Levinas and Blanchot'. Of their correspondence, only a handful of letters survive. Of ours, which takes the form of obscenities and drawings of cocks exchanged on Microsoft Messenger, everything survives, although it shouldn't. Of their near daily exchanges, nothing is known; of our friendship, everything is known, since I, like an idiot, put it all on the internet.
It's true, he did put it all on the internet. Spurious originated as a blog.
They aspire to think truly original thoughts, Lars and W., but also, they want to be led. They long for meaning, for direction, for better gin. They are mentorless, and they would like to find a guide through the intellectual wilderness. It isn't that they've been unable to find one—they've gone through three leaders so far—but Lars and W. make the same misstep each time. Each time they find a leader they go and tell him that he's their leader, at which point the leaders understandably distance themselves.
They suspect that if one of them were to have a truly original thought, just one, that might elevate them and change everything. This hasn't happened yet, and they're adrift and painfully aware of their shortcomings in a world that seems to them to have come undone; despite this, they're "essentially joyful," and the book has a marvelous lightness of touch. In the meantime, something terrible is happening in Lars' apartment. If the world's moving toward the end of days, the apartment's headed there even faster.
The book's flaw is its insistence on repetition. Several things are mentioned two or three times, and it's not at all clear to me that the repetition serves the work. We know that W.'s friends prefer W.'s girlfriend Sal to W., for instance, because we're told this twice. On the same page.
But the repetition is a minor qualm. Iyer has a remarkable control of tone. It's the End of Times, the narrator and the only other character in the book ache with self-disgust, most of the text is concerned with Lars and W.'s endless yammering, there are chapters about mold. The kind of book, in other words, that sounds like it ought to be unreadable, but manages to be intelligent, wildly entertaining, and unexpectedly moving instead.
Emily St. John Mandel | 2 books mentioned 1 3 min read
Wanting it Bad: The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides
Lydia Kiesling October 19, 2011 | 2 books mentioned 4 7 min read
On its face, The Marriage Plot appears to be a novel that mentions a lot of novels without talking about any of them. These facile, knowing references disguise the sly ways that this novel engages with its predecessors.
Lydia Kiesling | 2 books mentioned 4 7 min read
Lighter, Smaller, Thinner: On Lost Girls and Lost Mothers
Martha Anne Toll March 21, 2016 | 2 books mentioned 6 6 min read
To what should girls aspire when an entire culture, including a culture of smart literary women, values them for how little of them there is?
Martha Anne Toll | 2 books mentioned 6 6 min read
The Ponderer: Phillip Lopate's Portrait Inside My Head
Paul Beston February 13, 2013 | 2 books mentioned 1 5 min read
"There is something disagreeable to me in any political party line," Phillip Lopate writes in his new essay collection, Portrait Inside My Head, "which too often commits the espouser to tit-for-tat distortions and petty vituperations." Unwilling to translate his liberalism into political action, Lopate is more comfortable with contemplation, a mode "in which skepticism, ambivalence, and uncertainty play large parts." Aesthetics, too: being interviewed for radio before a campus protest at Columbia in 1968, he becomes fixated on a bluejay nearby; to the interviewer's despair, he goes silent for several moments, watching the bird. Chronic introspection may be fatal for an activist, but it's a necessary precondition for an essayist, especially one often concerned with interrogating his own mind.
If the essays collected here have a unifying theme, Lopate offers, it is "the discovery of limitations, and learning to live with them" — no great surprise from the author of Against Joie de Vivre. By his wife Cheryl's lights, one of those limitations is a lack of empathy. Lopate responds that he's sympathetic, just not empathetic — sympathy for him suggesting compassion, while empathy conveys "a stickier, more ghoulish shadowing that stems from the delusion that one can actually take on oneself, or fuse with, another's feelings." Empathy, by Lopate's reckoning, denies a stubborn human reality: we're all alone. Rejecting the effort to break through this barrier with "totalitarian Empathy Speak," Lopate falls back on more reliable virtues: "Forbearance, resignation, and stoicism still seem to me the only way to go."
That undeceived realism may trace back to his native Brooklyn, where he eventually returned to live. He characterizes the Brooklyn outlook as "combative, stoic, and resilient," accustomed to trouble and defeat — whether it's George Washington fleeing over the East River or the long-lost Dodgers' promise to "wait till next year." Yet Brooklyn is also hopelessly provincial compared with its impossible neighbor, Manhattan, and its resurgence of recent years has done little to quell sentimental attachments to its "endearing-loser past." Lopate, who also spent years as a Manhattanite, reconciles himself to a divided identity: "I have sampled the champagne and the Ovaltine, and I will forever be split."
Champagne and Ovaltine drinkers alike listen to the Leonard Lopate Show on WNYC, a long-running daily talk program hosted by Lopate's older brother. Their close but competitive relationship offers another study in limitations. More people know Leonard from listening to the radio than know Phillip from reading his books. Often, Phillip meets people who praise him for his radio show. After noting his brother's strengths, he gives himself the edge in the rivalry, "based on the idea that my writings have at least a chance of enduring, while his improvised radio chatter disappears into the ether." He then softens this outbreak of hubris, saying that one of his worst traits is his need to feel superior to others, even Leonard, whom he calls his lodestar.
While Leonard often pointed him toward cultural influences when they were younger, Phillip seems to have come by his cinephilia on his own. He has long been an incisive film critic, and that passion is represented here in several essays, including one in which he describes the factors that can alter his view of movies and directors. Though he has strong aesthetic preferences, he concedes that reconsideration, the passage of time, and peer pressure can all play a role — and even admits that he has tried to force himself to like certain films. The learned, self-conscious critic can also give way to more visceral concerns: "After I became a parent, I could no longer watch with equanimity any movie in which a child was kidnapped, endangered, or physically harmed."
Movies figure prominently in an essay examining the work of James Agee, whom Lopate deems one of the five major American film critics. Yet Agee is the one of those five with whom Lopate most disagrees, and the differences aren't confined to critical taste; they more often involve "torturous judgments" that Lopate consider way off-base. The reader is left to wonder how Agee can rank so highly in the film-critic pantheon with these shortcomings.
In his tendency to sacramentalize his subjects, Agee reminded Lopate of a proto-Beat writer, but Allen Ginsberg was the real thing. Lopate offers a clear-headed reassessment of Ginsberg's "Howl" and its influence. "That poem is lodged in my psyche," he writes, "at the crossroads of my adolescent confusions," even as he found its contents frustrating. The poem was "ludicrous and overblown," he writes; and "why was a good Jewish boy like Allen bothering with all that Christian-saint imagery?" But he reveres "Howl" for its "phonic fireworks and flaming images" and its "superb atmospherics of place," and he credits it with opening up Whitman for him. "Howl" also formed a boundary between poles he didn't wish to inhabit: the purportedly stale literary establishment against which the Beats rebelled, at one end, and the Beats themselves, at the other. The Beats possess a boundless, if little-remarked, capacity for awakening latent conservatism in readers.
Literary matters aside, the book's centerpiece is a personal essay, "The Lake of Suffering," which recounts the harrowing struggle of Lopate's infant daughter Lily, who suffered from a mysterious gastrointestinal disorder that inhibited her absorption of proteins. The condition led to repeated vomiting of food, weight loss, and stunted growth. Her alarmed parents eventually take her to Mount Sinai Hospital, where they spend the better part of a year. Their lives become closed-in, confined to a hospital Lopate compares to a spaceship: "no gravity, no up or down, white, weightless." The doctors insert a feeding tube through her nose; the little girl repeatedly pulls it out, and her parents have to hold her down and reinsert it, time and again, as she wails.
The long, spirit-sapping days at the hospital come alive only when Lily's physician arrives each afternoon. At one point the doctor offers what may be the collection's keenest political observation: "In America, babies are not supposed to be sick. If they're sick, people expect one of two outcomes: one, the baby dies; two, she gets all better. Americans don't know how to deal with chronic illness."
Fortunately for Lily, things get better. Her body adapts and she can eventually take food through her mouth and discard the feeding tube. Now 18, she has become a normal teenager: "snappish, moody, dictatorial, and self-absorbed." Neither Lily nor Cheryl has much interest in looking back on the ordeal, but Lopate can't let it go. He wonders if holding onto the experience is his way of reminding himself that he has borne genuine pain. In any case, he writes, "a part of me continues to haunt those wards, those corridors."
"The Lake of Suffering" embodies much of what makes Lopate such a compelling essayist: a gift for translating the most personal experience to nearly universal relevance, while at the same time retaining a novelist's facility for analyzing characters, including himself.
That feat also defines the conflict that some readers might feel with these essays and more generally, with the personal-essay genre that Lopate has done so much to champion. It's writing that, at its best, can be profoundly revelatory—but also profoundly invasive, even disloyal. Those troubled enough by the latter can seek their revelations elsewhere, of course. As Lopate knows, we all have our limitations.
Paul Beston | 2 books mentioned 1 5 min read
Essays Reviews
Why Are We Still Reading About Vietnam? Kill Anything That Moves by Nick Turse
Bill Morris January 15, 2013 | 2 books mentioned 6 7 min read
Kill Anything That Moves should be required reading in every school, military academy and governmental office in the land. Not that it will stop us from blundering into the next war.
Crude Satire: Teddy Wayne's Kapitoil
Theodore Wheeler April 16, 2010 | 2 books mentioned 1 4 min read
Sarah Fay March 28, 2019 | 2 books mentioned 1 6 min read
This collection does more than educate the reader. It tells of Wang's search for the right diagnosis and a way to live with the diagnosis she's given.
Sarah Fay | 2 books mentioned 1 6 min read


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Stechford railway station serves the Stechford area of Birmingham, England on Victoria Road, just off Station Road, which is part of the A4040 Birmingham outer ring road. The station and all trains serving it are operated by West Midlands Trains. It lies at the junction between the Birmingham to Coventry line and the predominantly freight-only Stechford-Aston spur. The station was much more important at the end of the 19th century, retaining a working freight yard until as late as the 1980s. The yard tracks have since been lifted.

Platform 1 is used by services to Birmingham New Street and was also served by a few direct services from Birmingham International to Walsall, platform 2 is used by services to Birmingham International, Coventry and London Euston. Platform 3 currently has no timetabled services. Up Walsall to Birmingham International trains formerly had a platform face of their own (platform 3), but down Birmingham International to Walsall trains used the up main platform via a facing crossover. The 19th-century bridge over the railway underwent renovation from August to September 2006.

On 28 February 1967, Stechford station was the scene of a train collision.

History
The original London & Birmingham Railway Stechford station opened in December 1844  with staggered platforms on either side of a level-crossing. In 1882, the level crossing became a bridge (Station Road) over the railway, the platforms were moved to the west (Birmingham) side of the bridge and a station building on the bridge became the entrance to both sets of platforms via steps. Around 1963, this building was demolished (the supports can still be seen next to the Station Road bridge) and a small utilitarian replacement building was provided in Frederick Road.

The line to/from  has in the past been used by a limited direct service between  and  and by Wrexham & Shropshire services between  and  (though not calling here) until January 2011. The direct line through to  is now used by limited freight services only.

Until 2020, Stechford station had poor access for people with mobility impairments. Steep steps led from the ticket office to the Birmingham platform, and the Coventry platform could be reached only by traversing a further bridge. The situation was resolved by construction of a new footbridge with lifts, connected by a ramp from the booking office.

Facilities
The station has a ticket office located at the station entrance off Station Road which is open Monday-Thursday 07:00-14:00, Friday 07:00-19:00, Saturday 08:00-17:00 and Sunday 10:00-12:00. When the ticket office is open tickets must be purchased before boarding the train. Outside of these times there is a ticket machine outside the ticket office which accepts card payments only - cash and voucher payments can be made to the senior conductor on the train.

Cycle parking is available.

Step free access is available between the platforms via lifts and an overbridge. Station staff provide information and assistance whilst the ticket office is open. Outside of these hours information is available from help points located on both platforms and from the senior conductor on the train.

Services
Stechford is served by two trains per hour, to  northbound of which one train extends to  and to  southbound. Services to/from  call at . A limited service operates beyond  towards  and  mainly at peak times and the start/end of service.

On Sundays, there is an hourly service northbound to  and southbound to  with most services extending to  and .

All services are operated by West Midlands Trains. Most services operate under the West Midlands Railway brand but some services (those which start/terminate at  or ) operate under the London Northwestern Railway brand.

References

External links

Rail Around Birmingham and the West Midlands: Stechford railway station
Railways of Warwickshire entry

Former London and North Western Railway stations
Railway stations in Birmingham, West Midlands
DfT Category E stations
Railway stations in Great Britain opened in 1844
Railway stations served by West Midlands Trains

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


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Join the rest of the world in some photowalking fun! Whether you're a seasoned pro or trying to figure out your first camera, come walk with people who love photography!
In Charleston you have two photo walks to choose from on October 1. The first one in the morning starts at the Visitors Center on Meeting St and will wander down towards Liberty Square and the Aquarium.
The second one is in the evening at Waterfront Park at Concord and Vendue Range. If the weather is cooperative, there should be some nice shots with some late afternoon/early evening light. Then when it gets dark it will be time to have some fun playing with light.
Feel free to join either one or both! Sign up for whichever photowalk you want to participate in. Find one in your city to join!


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'Thank You, By the Way' Ad Campaign Gets a Boost From Indian Export Association December 23, 2021
Back in August of this year, the Natural Diamond Council (NDC) unveiled its global ad campaign titled, "Thank You, By the Way," with the mission of communicating the massive socioeconomic benefits generated by the natural diamond industry.
The campaign addressed the concerns of jewelry consumers who, now more than ever, want to know where their products come from, and the impact their purchases have on the producing countries and local communities.
Created with the support of the Responsible Jewellery Council (RJC), the campaign illustrated how choosing a natural diamond positively influences the lives of millions of people in the most remote corners of the earth.
In a pre-Christmas press release, the NDC announced that it will be magnifying the "Thank You, By the Way" messaging by partnering with a leading India-based trade group called the Gem Jewellery Export Promotion Council (GJEPC).
"In order to achieve long-term sustainability in our industry, we need to adapt a 360-degree approach," said Colin Shah, chairman of the GJEPC. "The association with the Natural Diamond Council does just that, by highlighting the contributions made and recognizing the vital role of the trade in bringing the community together, touching lives and making a real difference. The sector has always taken a 'do good' approach and we will continue to do so in the future."
The GJEPC has spearheaded a number of philanthropic initiatives, including aid to orphanages, schools, old age homes, hospitals and other similar causes in India and around the world. What's more, the natural diamond sector helps 2 million Indians secure their livelihoods.
NDC's omnichannel ad campaign is built around a core of critical facts related to the socioeconomic and community benefits of the natural diamond industry. The series of creative executions can be seen across NDC's social media channels, with a dedicated page on Only Natural Diamonds.
Here are some headlines from that page…
"Your natural diamond has contributed to $16 billion of annual benefits for our world. That includes healthcare, jobs, education, biodiversity and infrastructure."
"Your natural diamond provides high quality and safe jobs, as well as supports the livelihood of 10 million people worldwide."
"Your daughter's natural diamond jewelry is not just a gift to her, but also the reason why 4 million people get access to healthcare."
"Your natural diamond helps educate children and empower thousands of women."
"While your natural diamond is a sparkling symbol of your legacy, it is also a treasure trove of education for half a million children in rural communities."
"From solar-powered clinics to groundbreaking disease management programs, your natural diamond purchase helps build a healthier future for some of the world's most remote, vulnerable communities."
"When you reward yourself for that much-deserved promotion with natural diamond jewelry, you help fund more than 400 women-owned businesses across Africa."
"Consumers are looking for purpose and want to know if the company they buy from has strong values and robust management systems that integrate sustainability at the core of their operations," said RJC executive director Iris Van der Veken. "The RJC certification gives that third-party assurance."
Credit: Image courtesy of The Natural Diamond Council.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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N30,000 Minimum Wage: How President Buhari 'Decieved, Scammed' Civil Servants
A spokesman of the Peoples Democratic Party, PDP, has rubbished the decision of President Muhammadu Buhari to sign the new minimum wage into law.
The Deputy National Publicity Secretary of the main opposition party, Prince Diran Odeyemi, described the minimum wage signed into law by Buhari as "mere propaganda, deceit and scamming" of the Nigerian civil servants.
He insisted, in a statement, that the Nigerian workforce deserved more than the N30,000 minimum wage.
Odeyemi argued that based on the high exchange rate of the dollar when compared to what obtained under the administration of former President Goodluck Jonathan, workers deserve better than N30,000.
According to him, "I was amused at the wide jubilation and undeserved publicity being accorded the so-called minimum wage" which he described as "ridiculously low if compared with the N18,000 ($122) minimum wage approved during the reign of President Goodluck Jonathan under the PDP administration.
"The exchange rate of US$ dollars to the Naira in 2010 was N147 to $1 which then translated N18,000 to be $122.
"If the APC wants to be honest with themselves and the sufferings of the Nigerian civil servants, what was expected of the ruling party was to just multiply $122 by the current exchange rate of N360 to $1 which would have given the civil servants a minimum salary of $122 x N360 which is N43,920 that they truly deserved.
"The Federal government has deliberately cheated the Nigerian civil servants with not less that $19 or N13,920.
"These are the reasons why PDP went the whole hug traversing the length and breadth of this country during the presidential campaign with assurances that the Naira was too weak with the lowest purchasing power ever in the history of our dear nation since the inception of APC administration on May 29, 2015."
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text:
A dear throat, clearing: an interview with Karen Craigo
Karen Craigo is one of those members of the literary community who is an incredible advocate for others' work. It only seemed right to tip off the interview series by talking to her about her own work, her first book of poems, No More Milk, which is out from Sundress Publications.
Molly: Karen, thanks so much for taking the time to talk to me about your book, No More Milk. I always like to ask this question of poets and writers because it often gives beginning writers some kind of hope—there are so many journeys, after all—and each book, as with any child, has its own Great Story. What's the story of No More Milk's coming into the world?
Karen: Hi, Molly! So nice to have a chance to visit with you.
As a collection, No More Milk is just so me. My poems are unabashedly personal, and there's not a sniff of cool in them. They're the poems of a woman in the elementary school car line—someone who is hoping against hope that the teacher doesn't come out for a parking lot conference, because there she is, braless, arms folded over her chest, her nightgown stuffed into her yoga pants. The poems are like that—caught off guard, unable to be anything but honest.
The reason this matters is that I struggled some to let my true self be seen in writing. I went to grad school late, worked a low-level faculty job for entirely too long, had kids late in life, and now I'm 48 with a preschooler. Everyone around me has always seemed younger and more lively and interesting than me. I write personal poems, and mom poems at that. This stuff isn't a big hit in a workshop. The S-word gets flung around in settings like that, and I don't mean some sort of intriguing S-word. I don't qualify for "slutty," but I am a shoo-in for "sentimental." No More Milk happened when I decided I was OK—the stuff of my life was fine for poetry. When I embraced who I was, the book just magically happened. (I suppose I was in denial until my second kid came along.)
By the way, and I know I'm going long with this, there's a bit more to the story of the book's incarnation. At the end of 2014, I learned that my three-year contract as a full-time instructor would not be renewed. I made a resolution going into 2015 that that year would be "the year of the book." I just told the universe that I would have a book in 2015, so the cosmos would just have to do whatever it was they needed to do to make that happen.
That spring, my book was contracted with Sundress Publications, and it came out the next year. (Tardy universe!) But I learned a valuable lesson that way. Sometimes our reality is what we summon into being. Or maybe this is true all the time. Maybe we have powers we barely understand.
M: Sundress is a wonderful home for a book—they champion their authors so well, and I admire that. Erin (Elizabeth Smith, at the helm) was so generous to me when I started Tinderbox Editions, and I won't ever forget that.
Your story of your work in an MFA workshop reminds me a lot of my own experiences–I was hugely pregnant in thesis seminar and felt like such an oddball, that word confessional my sentimental. I even wrote a little piece about it in So to Speak called "Death of the Little Self." And at AWP-Los Angeles, I was on a panel about motherhood and poetry; I spoke on the ethics of using one's family in one's art.
There is so much beauty in the domestic, in the observance of the everyday. I especially love lines like, "I've seen you / fuck up dinner, perplexed / by your still-uncooked potatoes, / checking your watch as if / they've missed an appointment." There's immense tenderness towards the you, as in "I have my doubts, but it's not me / out there on my knees." Your poems are rooted right there in the thick of family—what are your thoughts on using one's family as subject or object? How does your thinking figure in to decisions you make about your poems—either privately or publicly?
K: I'm pretty careful when I write about family. I certainly wouldn't wish to embarrass anyone—and with kiddos, it's hard to predict what "embarrassing" looks like. (That nightgown in the car line is the only universal.) And some things fall into the realm of the sacred private, so they aren't for public consumption. I try to handle the domestic via the personal. I may not have a right to other people's experiences, but I do have a right to my reactions to other people, related or not. It's like that great quote by Anne Lamott: "If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better."
We shouldn't be too eager to tell secrets, if our purpose is just spilling the beans. If we have something important to say and we can best convey it through a personal story, then our loved ones should be on notice that this is our right; our stories belong to us. Where we can protect their privacy, we should. Where the poem is better served by sharing a secret, we need to be considerate.
With that said, there are plenty of stories I won't tell because the cost to myself or other people would be dear. As long as they stay alive and on my good side, mum's the word.
M: A good way of looking at it. I loved my friend's perspective on writing essays on her time teaching in a prison writing workshop: these are their stories and they will tell them if they want. For me, I feel like the poems I write are about motherhood as opposed to about my family, so there's a lens, a gaze, something that separates.
I love the universal in your poems. I'm thinking about the "Poem on My Coffee Break," which opens: "Today I'm fitting in a poem / on the back of an envelope, / something folded in my purse." We've all done this—poem-snippets on the backs of receipts, in the margins of oil change coupons. It also harkens to Dickinson, whose envelope poems fascinate me. This question is endlessly asked, but I don't tire of the answers: what is your process? What are your writerly quirks? What do you need to write, what do you find you don't need (any more)?
K: Thank you for those kind words! Isn't it funny, how we poets will be out in the car line or at the store and a snippet—a phrase, an image—will hit us and we'll write it down? And then we're left with a whole purse full of nonsense. When I'm not in a position to receive poetic insight and do something with it on the spot, there's really no sense in saving it for later. That has never worked for me—not even once.
I love the questions about process, too. I have my preferences, of course, and things go better when I honor them. (For the record, I like writing in the morning on a corner of my couch with a cheap blue Paper-Mate pen—I love that particular thick, royal blue—and a yellow legal pad.) But I've spent most of my writing career trying to demystify that process. While I believe I like the mind-body connection of writing longhand, I've consciously drafted on the computer to remind myself that the poetry lives in me—not in a notepad. I've tried different colored pens. I've written at night. Whatever my mind tells me I absolutely require to write well, I try to shift and change.
I don't know that this has been a good decision on my part. What's wrong with easing into writing in the familiar way? Why shouldn't I be comfortable when I write? I think, though, that writing the personal poems that I favor is an inherently uncomfortable activity. My favorite notebook is sort of akin to a pillow atop a bed of nails.
M: Oh my, yes, I think so many of us have those conflicting desires within us as writers: we want to set up some kind of perfect space that never settles. I'm always preening my own nest, tidying before sitting down for purposeful writing, when that never works for me.
I also noticed, in your book, you write mostly left-justified, natural-line-break poems, ones that do come out of observation and comfort. There are a few poems in you collection that follow form–the villanelle in "Self-Portrait as Woman Driving 80 mph" and your string in "Haiku, Late Summer (A Prayer)." There's also "Guided Meditation: Inventory" in which you methodically work through the parts of the body, both in celebration and in realistic terms (making it, in many ways, a celebration of the realistic, a reckoning of the real) of the general parts of us. When you write these poems, which comes first? Which is your chicken and which is your egg: the form or the content? Do you ever try exercises where you change the form around—let's see if this works as couplets, let's try a sestina here—to see what might happen? I always found that was a big recommendation of mine in early writing workshops because form, even when not kept, would crack something open the writer might have blocked otherwise.
K: I think one of my faults as a poet is that I don't explore the whole range of form. I love to read sprawling poems that claim ownership of the full page, but then I write poems that are compact—tight lines, frequently all in one big stanza. And that's my thinking, often—twisted in on itself, tightly focused. Form reflects content in that regard, although I would suggest not in a bad way.
Still, in my current work, I'm stretching out a little and claiming space—in the realm of ideas and on the page. My new poems are more fractured and less certain. My poetic evolution is slow, but I'm thankful for the impetus and the ability to change.
M: And so much of that, for me, is a result of reading better, reading wider—I want to do that, too. You've done it so well. Now I want to sit down and see how my poems might hang on a form.
I'm thinking a lot about poetic obsessions as it comes to this book. You write about money in ways that are both clever and honest. In a poem called "Special Money," you write of giving up the last old bills to pay a bill, and you wrap the poem up where you reflect on the folio of state quarters, ending on the line: "I wonder if he'd miss Alaska." You wrote of your son's piggybank, of the food bank, a poem titled "One Hundred Grand," another called "Time is Money"—all of these elements are another thread through the domestic and the everyday. What did you want your reader to conclude about these pieces? I kept thinking the way we track things, like time, how the countable because a measure of our lives in so many ways. But there's also the socio-economic urgency behind these poems as well. I can do this, but money.
K: Thanks for saying that! I am trying to read more poetry, and with more variety—different presses, authors, styles, and always with an eye toward diversity. This year I've been much more disciplined in my approach to reading, and I've learned a lot from turning up the heat on myself a little.
Obsession drives my own poetry. In fact, it's kind of a problem. I work in projects—I'll write a series of Advent poems, a series of persona poems, a series of meditations on a specific topic, a series of money poems … the list goes on and on. A problem with that creative approach is that it's hard to get a full manuscript out of it. I end up with a dozen chapbooks instead of one full-length collection.
The nice thing about No More Milk is that it's about home economics, sort of—a lot of parenting stuff that dovetailed very nicely with the money poems. What I'm calling money poems are poems about that ebb and flow of money energy through our lives. And money is energy; dollars are symbols of that. In acknowledging that money will always flow through us, I think I give myself permission to think of it poetically—to let money itself be lyrical. I want to be a poet of the everyday—in fact, I sometimes call myself the poet of the gas bill. I'll accept the niche. I think it's kind of an important one. Nothing causes more pleasure or anguish in our lives than money.
M: Oh, I think it's a wonderful place to be, the poet of the gas bill. We certainly shouldn't eschew the beauty of the everyday. Long ago, when I was still trying to find my place in the world, I remember my favorite social media site was Flickr and there was a "pool" called "My Everyday Life." It was my favorite thing to do, to go there and see how beautifully rendered our environments and landscapes could be made. This was art. These are the lenses through which we see the world, interact with it, live it. You do it with an incredible sense of image and humor.
Some of my favorite lines in your collection are these, which are startling: "You've thought of it, but no: / the wrist is a narrow, helpless thing, / and you have traced its rivers / through the skin. All morning / you've been flexing your hand / and you've seen in those cords / a dear throat, clearing." These lines are so stunning, so fraught, so exactly right, I had to call attention to them, because I am both jealous that I did not write them and grateful that you did. I don't have a question to call up in relation to these lines: I just wanted to make sure others could read them, know that the collection is full of this kind of detail in which you know the poet can really see the world, both in minute intimacy and great broad experience.
And this seems to be another ubiquitous interview question, but it is also one I always love to have an answer for, as we wrap up: What's next for Karen Craigo? Do you have a chapbook-of-poems, meditations, that will sprout into a full-length? Or perhaps a journey you are anticipating going on as an artist?
K: I just love chatting with you, Molly! You say the nicest things, and you have such interesting questions! Thanks so much for this interview—I hate to see it come to an end!
I am always, always writing—always working on something, in one genre or another—and it feels like a lot is happening. Some things are UNhappening, though; I recently pulled my second book, which was slated to come out right about now. I really love the back-and-forth I had with the editors of my first book, and I decided to sit with my poems some more and hold out for a situation that would allow more of that kind of collaboration. I'm a little bummed, though, since I could be holding a gorgeous book in my hands right this minute. I have that manuscript and another in circulation, though.
Beyond poetry, I write a lot of nonfiction, and I'm finishing up an essay collection called World's Fattest Animals. It's all about body image, and I'm certainly a zaftig sort, so that topic interests me. I think the manuscript is notable because it approaches body mass in a way that's funny but not really self-mocking. I'm funny, I'm told, but I'm far from ridiculous. I feel like I'm introducing a whole new perspective in this group of essays.
In addition to all of this, I'm also writing a publishing textbook—something suitable for the classroom (because there are precious few resources of this kind) and for anyone who is interested in the ins and outs of literary publishing. It's born of my blog, Better View of the Moon, which deals mostly in writing, publishing, and creativity issues.
I like having a lot of projects—even if it can be confusing for all of them to coalesce at the same moment!
M: Thank you, Karen. And thank you for all of the work that you do as a literary citizen—your words, your editorial work, your blog. You are a champion of the poet and the writer, a deep and wise resource, and we're incredibly lucky to have you in our community.
No More Milk is available from the publisher (and aside from buying straight from the author herself, is the best way to buy the book).
Molly Sutton Kiefer is the founding editor of Tinderbox Poetry Journal, and she continues to stay connected to the journal by initiating an interview series with authors whose books have recently come out. Molly runs the sister-press Tinderbox Editions, which is a nonprofit press in southeastern Minnesota. Her book Nestuary is a full-length lyric essay explore themes of (in)fertility, the body as medical object, and pregnancy. She has three poetry chapbooks, most recently Thimbleweed, and her work has appeared in The Rumpus, Hayden's Ferry Review, The Collagist, and Fiddlehead Review, among others. She lives in Minnesota with her family, where she teaches Montessori elementary school.


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1. Every Interview with Every Football Coach in 90 Seconds: Football season is upon us. Jon Crist nails every word ever spoken by a football coach. In a minute and a half.
2. How Do I Stop Worrying? David Powlison offers sage advice. Third of his six steps is that we ask ourselves, "Why am I anxious? Worry always has its inner logic. Anxious people are "you of little faith." If I've forgotten God, who or what has edged Him out of my mind and started to rule in His place? Identify the hijacker. Anxious people have fallen into one of the subsets of "every form of greed." What do I want, need, crave, expect, demand, lust after? Or, since we fear losing the things we crave getting, what do I fear either losing or never getting? Identify the specific lust of the flesh. Anxious people "eagerly seek" the gifts more than the Giver. They bank treasure in the wrong place. What is preoccupying me, so that I pursue it with all my heart? Identify the object of your affections."
3. Offer Thanks: Josh Buice: Paul offered thanks and appreciation to others, so should we.
4. Hope in the Midst of a Recidivism Nightmare: Whatever your political stripe, we all must agree that the situation of imprisonment in America needs to be fixed. Marian Hatcher tells briefly about her hopeful story in Cook County and shares, " Among the nation's 2,700 drug courts, Cook County is considered in the 10 model programs for prisoners. The jail has seen an 81 percent drop in felony convictions three years following prisoner release for those who have gone through their drug court program."
5. The Problem of Nice and the Promise of New: Michael Lawrence on the allure of nice, "These days, there are lots of different kinds of nice. There's the polite but detached tolerance of "live and let live" nice. There's the socially conscious and politically engaged nice. There's religious nice in many different denominational and faith-community forms. There's "spiritual but not religious" nice. There's even what's known in my town as "Portland nice," a sort of non-confrontational, "let's not make anyone feel uncomfortable, even though we're silently judging and dismissing you in our minds" nice. But for all the different kinds of nice, the appeal of nice hasn't changed much in the last two thousand years. To be a nice person, a good person, a person who's becoming a better person, is to feel good about yourself."


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If S&P Falls 100-200 Points, We Will See QE3: Marc Faber - CNBC.com
Another round of quantitative easing in the U.S. will depend on the direction of the S&P 500, Marc Faber, editor of the Gloom, Boom & Doom Report told CNBC Monday, following Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke's failure last week to hint at a QE3.
"(QE3) depends on the S&P, if the S&P drops 100-200 points, then yes, for sure we will have QE3 but if the S&P stays here or even goes up, the likelihood of QE3 diminishes," Faber said.
Since the start of 2012, the S&P has risen 9 percent, compared to gains of 11 percent for the Nasdaq Composite and a 6 percent return for the Dow Jones Industrial Average.
"Bernanke targets asset prices, he doesn't admit that, but he doesn't want asset prices to go down," he said, adding that the first two rounds of quantitative easing were largely responsible for the upside in U.S. stocks last year.
"The S&P went up from 666 on March 6 2009 to 1,370 [currently] so it has more than doubled and that has to do with QE1 and QE2," he said.
Faber adds that the movement in oil prices will also contribute to the Fed's decision on whether to implement QE3 or not.
If Brent crude prices were to soar to $150 a barrel, or rise 20 percent from current levels, he believes the Fed would have an "even more excuse" to flood the market with liquidity.
Correction Ahead for Equities
While Faber is generally upbeat on equities as an asset class, he is calling for a short-term correction in global stocks in the "period directly ahead".
"Markets are overbought, technically they have deteriorated, and we have very heavy insider selling, so I think a correction is coming," he said.
Faber, who expects to see high volatility in all asset classes over the next few years, says the ideal asset allocation for the moment is 25 percent each in equities, real estate or real estate related equities, cash and gold.
"I don't think (investors) should be shooting for huge gains, but rather for preservation in capital," he said.
Discussing his outlook for gold, Faber, a well-known gold bull, says it doesn't offer an attractive buying opportunity right now. He believes the precious metal is in "correction time" and doesn't rule out the prospects for gold to fall down to $1.500 an ounce this year.
"We made a peak at $1,921 on September 6 and we dropped to $1,522 on December 29, so around $1500 is very strong support."
Labels: 100200, CNBCcom, Faber, Falls, Points, Stocks
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Acclaimed author Anne Fine talks about writing, editing and getting published. The Carnegie Medal winner shares her views on the publishing market, book competitions and movie adaptations.
A comedy for children of 8-11 – the third in my Mountfield Family Series (following on from The More the Merrier, and Eating Things on Sticks).
How did you come to writing? Can you remember the first story you've ever written?
At Northampton High School for Girls, in the upper thirds, I and my best friend Gillian wrote a book called Agatha the Witch. We took turns to write chapters in a French Vocabulary book, and the English teacher allowed us to read each episode out on Monday mornings at the beginning of our lesson. Alas, the book has been lost, and I can remember nothing of the story.
How did you break into the publishing world? How much time did you spend looking for an agent or publisher?
I didn't even know about agents. I sent my first book off to two publishers. The first sent it back saying they did not publish children's books (clearly, I'd never heard of the Writers' and Artists' Year Book, either). The second sent a really positive letter, regretting that my book wasn't quite right for their list. I thought she was just being polite, and threw the typescript under my bed. Two years later I fished it out to submit it for the Guardian/Puffin Kestrel Award, and was runner up after Jan Mark. Both our careers started with that prize because, at the prize ceremony, the agent Gina Pollinger asked if she could represent me. She sold the book to Methuen Children's Books a few months later. So I am a huge fan of competitions.
Your views on the evolution of the publishing market: was it easier – or, on the contrary, more difficult – to get published in the 80's and 90's? What do you think of ebooks? Are paperbacks meant to die?
I truly have no idea about the first book – though I do believe that a really, really first rate first book will still finally find a publisher. But I do guess that since established novelists are finding it harder and harder to get almost automatic publication of further works, it must be more difficult than ever to find a first publisher. It's obvious that ebooks are storming away (tellingly, this year I took a flight from Manchester to Los Angeles, on which most readers had printed books; then a further flight up to Seattle on which the majority of readers were reading from screens). I don't for a moment think paperbacks will die. But I do suspect they will turn much more into Print on Demand, because of the total collapse of the range in bookshops.
Authors often complain about editors "butchering" their manuscripts. What about you? Do you have complaints or did you get used to it?
When I was much younger, I had a copy editor for my third book (The Stone Menagerie) whose plan was clearly to rewrite my book in the way she herself would have written it. Luckily the commissioning editor took my side. I take enormous care to edit myself as well as I can before I submit anything, and so my in-house editors tend to go very easy, and I appreciate their input as it usually airbrushes out mistakes and infelicities and therefore improves the book. Currently I am delighted with the skills of the editors in all of the publishing houses I use (that, I admit, is unusual; but it is true. I don't know if I'm currently just lucky). I do hear horror stories. On the other hand, I read so many books that seem to me to cry out for stricter editing that I might be on the publisher's side more often than many of my author friends might imagine….
Do you pay attention to bad reviews? How do you handle criticism?
If it's dishonest (misquoting, axe-grinding etc), stupid (e.g. "I did not like this book because I did not like anyone in it") or wrong ("Children don't want to read about this sort of thing") then I have learned to ignore it. If it puts a finger on a real weakness in your book that you yourself were trying to pretend wasn't there, it really hurts. Since they are so much longer and can therefore be more thoughtful, I tend to find the foreign reviews – particularly of my adult novels – well worth reading and often useful.
Did you improve your writing skills (attending classes or reading special books)?
No. But I did have superb English teachers at school. And I do read a lot of excellent novels.
What is a typical working day for Anne Fine?
Wake up. Make tea. Back to bed. Press ahead (pencil and rubber). Drain teapot. Get up. Breakfast. Walk dog. Type up earlier scribblings on computer. Correct, correct, correct. Quick lunch. Walk dog. Do office work. Read in bath. Supper. Walk dog. Go to bed.
Could you describe "the making of a novel"?
Not really. Before I start, I have a sort of vision of what the book will be like. The instant I begin, the work seems to depart entirely from my mental template. I struggle through. Surprisingly, at the end, I can often look back and the book mirrors my original intention far more than I would have thought possible.
Do you have writing secrets or tips for aspiring authors?
Guess the maximum length of the book. Keep a chart of thousands of words written (like a child's chart of days to the end of term). It takes so long to finish a book that it is encouraging to cross the stages to the end off one by one. It reminds you the task is finite.
You are a fellow of the "Royal Society of Literature". What was your reaction? Did you use Byron's pen or Dickens' quill to inscribe your name on the official roll?
I took it as a tremendous compliment. I used Byron's pen.
Do you have a favorite book among your own works?
Of the adult novels I love Raking the Ashes best. And for the books for younger people, it's a toss up between How To Write Really Badly and Up on Cloud Nine (both for personal, rather than literary reasons).
The famous movie "Mrs. Doubtfire" is based on your satirical novel 'Madame Doubtfire". Were you involved in the making of the movie?
Not at all. I don't really like working with other people much, so I left the whole thing to the film makers. All I asked was that they would not make the children bratty, and they did indulge me in that.
If a book has paid off your mortgage, it's rude to criticize – especially if you yourself chose to have nothing to do with it. Let's just say it's not the film I would have made. The tone and the circumstances of the book are very different. Essentially, the filmmakers paid for the 'ex-husband dressing up as his own children's nanny' idea – and a few of my jokes (And if I'd made the film, probably no one would ever have heard of it).
Finally, my favorite off-topic question: you've found £100, how will you use that money?
Half to Sight Savers (I dread, absolutely dread, perhaps one day not being able to read). And half going out for dinner.
As usual, I plan to take a few weeks off, go on holiday with Richard, lounge on a beach, etc etc. As usual, I have started another comedy for young children.
Motto: Never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you.
Tea or Coffee? Tea (except mid morning, when coffee).
Sleepy Little Town or Crazy Megapolis? I say megapolis because I already live in a sleepy little town and really, really fancy a change.
Like To Travel or Hate to Move? Hate to move.
Leader or Follower? Well, I'm bossy. So Leader, I suppose (though I'd hate to have to do it).
Serious or Funny? Strangely, serious. But I'll fall in love with anyone who can make me laugh.
Ahhhhhhhhh Mrs Fry!!! STEPHEN FRY!!!!


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Q: DataContextProvider Going from the example given here...
http://ericswann.org/blog/archive/2009/04/06/linq-to-sql-datacontext-provider-revisited.aspx
I'm trying to use the datacontext between the MembershipProvider and the RoleProvider.
For instance, when I call Membership.GetUser(XXXXXX) in the RoleProvider, I get an error because it pulls an item from one datacontext and tries to use it (hence the need for the repository)
But I am ...really stupid, and this is some pretty advanced stuff. Seeing as how I do not get to 'instantiate' the Providers, does anyone have an idea how I might go about using this?

A: First of all pick your datacontext caching strategy. Use DataContextThreadCache if you're working in winforms, where the context is cached in your running thread context. Use DataContextWebCache if you're working with web apps where the context is cached in HTTP run-time cache.
To register your datacontext look at DataContextProvider.RegisterDataContext and its overloads. Here is an example:
DataContextProvider.RegisterDataContext<YourDataContextType, YourCacheStrategyType>(contextKey, contextConnectionString)

contextKey: is the key you will use to retrieve your data context with.
contextConnectionString: is the connection string for your data context.
This call will use the type of DataContext you specified to create an new instance of it. It will then cache it using the specific caching strategy you specified also. This should probably be called somewhere during the initialization phase of your application. Your repository can then use GetDataContext as outlined in that blog post to get the context instance.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Automatically Generating Comments for Arbitrary Source Code
LOGGER.info("starting {}",Main.class.getSimpleName());
TimeZone.setDefault(getTimeZone("UTC"));
DateTimeZone.setDefault(UTC);
ServiceManager serviceManager=new ServiceManager().addModules(
ApiModule.class,MetricsModule.class).addServices(getEnabledWebServices()).addServices(
getEnabledMetricsServices()).addServices(EventLogService.class);
serviceManager.start();
LOGGER.info("started {}",Main.class.getSimpleName());
starts the services using the provided input.
application entry point.
One of these comments was generated by a computer. Can you tell which one?
Comments — or Lack Thereof
Commenting code is boring. It's tedious and time-consuming and almost universally disliked. Why should we spend our time writing comments when we could be doing something so much more interesting? Like, for example, designing a model to write our comments for us.
At this point, it's a well-established fact that programmers regularly fail to comment their code or do so in such a way that the comments are effectively indecipherable. But, beyond being a courtesy to other developers (and oneself, 6 months later), effective comments play a crucial role in the software engineering process. They drive down development time, enable more effective bug detection, and facilitate better code reuse. As much as we would like to avoid writing them, source code comments are incredibly important.
But, like all good programmers, we know that the best way to solve any specific problem is to first solve a more general problem. So, instead of accepting the inevitability of having to comment our own code, we set out to design an algorithm that would take the code we've written and generate appropriate comments. And we think we're on to something. The first comment in the example above was generated by our system. The second was written by a human. Did you choose correctly?
Data — the Main Ingredient
Unfortunately, in order to train a model to write source code comments, you need both source code and comments. Fortunately, there are a number of developers that have been so kind as to provide us with their code and the associated comments in the form of open-source repositories. We use Doxygen to identify code/comment pairs in a large number of repos containing code written in Java, C++, and Python. We use the first sentence of each extracted comment, as it is usually the one that best describes the associated code. We also filter out code/comment pairs where the comments are too long (more than 50 words), too short (fewer than 3 words), or contain phrases like "thanks to" or "created by", since these are all typically uninformative. Similarly, we filter out code/comment pairs where the code is very long (more than 4096 characters), since these code blocks cannot usually be summarized well by a single sentence. We ultimately use about 85% of the code/comment pairs initially collected.
C++ 1,050,077 918,583
Java 14,709,616 12,461,021
Python 1,325,845 1,121,421
Modeling — the Secret Sauce
Previous source code summarization models require an explicit parsing of the code to be summarized. They also employ a fixed vocabulary composed of the most common words in training data comments. We'd like to avoid both of these modeling constraints. Really, they just make everything harder. Parsing code is time-consuming and failure-prone, especially when the code of interest is a work-in-progress. And, a fixed, word-based vocabulary will limit the model's flexibility, preventing it from generalizing effectively to new code written for new problem domains.
We can do better. We introduce a novel encoder-decoder model designed to overcome both of these limitations. Specifically, we construct a deep convolutional encoder (pictured below) that directly ingests source code. While current models focus on source code's structure and the precise tokens it uses, our model ingests source code at a character-level, avoiding those formalisms. This code-as-text approach enables the model to identify complex natural language constructs in the source code itself, which generalizes well across samples and languages.
In order to enable the model to predict rare and unique terms, we teach it to spell! That is, we construct an LSTM decoder that can yield, at each step, a full word, a sub-word (e.g. "ing", "ly"), or a letter, as depicted below. For a given example, we train the model to predict the sequence of word components that make up the comment. The model learns the relationship between the input code and output tokens, as well as how to combine output tokens in a reasonable manner. Our methodology significantly increases the range of terms that the model can potentially generate, enabling it to predict relatively rare words. However, we avoid the significant increase in vocabulary size (and, therefore, weight space and propensity to overfit) that would usually accompany the inclusion of many rare words in the vocabulary.
Results — Will It Blend?
Outlining a modeling approach is all well-and-good in the abstract, but what happens when the rubber meets the road (or the data meets the GPU, or something…)? As it turns out, that's actually a pretty hard question to answer quantitatively. There are some well-defined evaluation metrics in the machine translation literature that have historically been used to evaluate source code summaries. In keeping with previous work on this subject, we use BLEU scores (bilingual evaluation understudy scores) to quantitatively evaluate our model. The results suggest that our method performs at least as well as previous state-of-the-art techniques. See the poster linked at the end of this post for more details.
Calculating BLEU scores — and most other machine translation evaluation metrics — involves comparing n-grams in the model's prediction to those in some "ground truth". For us, the "ground truth" is the actual comment associated with a piece of code. However, this approach to evaluating predictions does not always translate especially well to source code summarization, because source code can correctly be summarized in a wide variety of different ways. Really, the best way to evaluate the effectiveness of the model is to look at some results for yourself. Below, we present a few examples of actual and predicted comments for each of the three languages on which we train and evaluate the model.
Actual Comment
Predicted Comment
C++ convert payload into string . returns a string containing the contents of the payload .
C++ insert a row cut unless it is a duplicate – cut
may get sorted . creates a new matrix .
C++ construct an instruction text to the ui . creates a new text object .
C++ resumes the thread . starts a new thread .
C++ set the maximal width of a tab . sets the width of the tab .
Java the class errormanager handles errors of the file parsing . this class is used to report the error messages .
Java calculate the distance in metres to the rhumb
line defined by coords a and b . returns the distance between two points .
Java calls the specified method with the given
params . returns a string containing the string representation
of the string .
Java change the length of the file . sets the length of the file .
Java custom layout for an item representing a bookmark in the browser . adds a bookmark to the list .
Python a foundation class from which atom : title , summary , etc . represents an atom .
Python render one or more cells . renders the contents of the given rectangle .
Python get the identifier assigned to the message . returns the id of the underlying dbm .
Python abstraction for a collection of reactions . returns a list of action actions .
Python create the property instance : the meta object literal for the '
Not bad, eh? While certainly not perfect, our model-generated comments do tend to capture the key themes present in the original comment. And, the model does all of this without an explicit parsing of the code, without a large output vocabulary, and (most importantly) without any human input. Moving forward, we plan to expand the scope of the code summarized by the model. We'd like to be able to meaningfully summarize documents, folders, and even entire repositories. Just think, you'll never again have to wade through foreign code because the repository lacks a coherent "Read Me"! Stay tuned for further work on that issue.
This project was sponsored by the Air Force Research Laboratory (AFRL) as part of the DARPA MUSE program. This and other tools developed using the MUSE Corpus can be found at https://muse-portal.net/.
This work was initially presented at the Women in Machine Learning Workshop at NeurIPS. Additional details can be found on the poster here. Updates have been made since this presentation.


text:
Wrong number leads Zambian diplomat to NJ school
WEST ORANGE, NJ The Zambian ambassador to the United Nations made a speech Wednesday at New Jersey's West Orange High School to make amends for dialing the wrong phone number.
In the fall, Ambassador Lazarous Kapambwe was trying to reach a diplomat from Sierra Leone. But the number he dialed was one digit off. He ended up calling Logan Svitzer, a student who was sitting in his U.S. history class at the school.
His teacher, Robbin Sweeney, was so annoyed that she called the number and got the ambassador. She thought it was a prank -- and spent 10 minutes on the phone with him to verify who he was.
Kapambwe spoke at the school to make up for the inconvenience. He told students about Zambia and urged them to consider diplomatic service as a career.


text:
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Home » Foundation (Paperback)
Foundation (Paperback)
By Isaac Asimov
This is book number 1 in the Foundation series.
#3: Second Foundation (Hardcover): $28.80
The first novel in Isaac Asimov's classic science-fiction masterpiece, the Foundation series
THE EPIC SAGA THAT INSPIRED THE APPLE TV+ SERIES FOUNDATION, NOW STREAMING • Nominated as one of America's best-loved novels by PBS's The Great American Read
For twelve thousand years the Galactic Empire has ruled supreme. Now it is dying. But only Hari Seldon, creator of the revolutionary science of psychohistory, can see into the future—to a dark age of ignorance, barbarism, and warfare that will last thirty thousand years. To preserve knowledge and save humankind, Seldon gathers the best minds in the Empire—both scientists and scholars—and brings them to a bleak planet at the edge of the galaxy to serve as a beacon of hope for future generations. He calls his sanctuary the Foundation.
The Foundation novels of Isaac Asimov are among the most influential in the history of science fiction, celebrated for their unique blend of breathtaking action, daring ideas, and extensive worldbuilding. In Foundation, Asimov has written a timely and timeless novel of the best—and worst—that lies in humanity, and the power of even a few courageous souls to shine a light in a universe of darkness.
Isaac Asimov began his Foundation series at the age of twenty-one, not realizing that it would one day be considered a cornerstone of science fiction. During his legendary career, Asimov penned more than 470 books on subjects ranging from science to Shakespeare to history, though he was most loved for his award-winning science fiction sagas, which include the Robot, Empire, and Foundation series. Named a Grand Master of Science Fiction by the Science Fiction Writers of America, Asimov entertained and educated readers of all ages for close to five decades. He died, at the age of seventy-two, in April 1992.
Praise for Isaac Asimov and his Foundation series
"A true polymath, a superb rationalist, an exciting and accessible writer in both fiction and nonfiction, Isaac Asimov was simply a master of all he surveyed."—Greg Bear
"Asimov served wondrous meals-of-the-mind to a civilization that was starved for clear thinking about the future. To this day, his visions spice our ongoing dinner-table conversation about human destiny."—David Brin
"Isaac was still in his teens when I met him, a fan of mine before I was a fan of his. Writing for John W. Campbell back in the famous 'golden age of science fiction,' he became one of the founders of our field. With the Robot stories and the Foundation stories, he helped to shape science fiction as we know it."—Jack Williamson
"I grew up on the ABC's of science fiction—Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke. There's a reason Asimov's name comes first, and not just because of the alphabet!"—Janis Ian
"With his fertile imagination, his wit, and his prolific output, Isaac Asimov truly laid the foundation for all future generations of science fiction writers."—Kevin J. Anderson
"If anything can be said to have been the launch pad for space-age science fiction, it has to be the Foundation trilogy. It's a classic. And it's unforgettable."—Jack McDevitt
"The Foundation series is one of the masterpieces of science fiction. If you've never read these novels, then you're in for a treat, and even if you've already read them, then you owe it to yourself to reread them, because they're still great."—Allen Steele
"Quite simply, Asimov got me started."—Liz Williams
"Asimov's Foundation trilogy was the pivotal touchstone of my life in creative fiction. His vision and scope spanned the galaxy across eons, and at the same time he told deeply personal stories of living characters. The writer I am sprang from the boy that these books touched back then. They continue to move me still. Thank you, Isaac, for opening my mind and my life to the possible."—Tracy Hickman
"I'm sure there will be more Foundation stories, and more robot stories, and more science-fictional mysteries, because those are Isaac's legacies to us. But reading them won't be quite the same. There was only one Isaac Asimov; there will never be another."—Mike Resnick
Publisher: Del Rey
Publication Date: April 29th, 2008
Series: Foundation
Fiction / Science Fiction / Hard Science Fiction
Fiction / Classics
Fiction / Science Fiction / Space Opera
Digital Audiobook (My Must Reads)
Mass Market (October 1st, 1991): $7.99
Paperback (August 31st, 2021): $17.00
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Mass Market Paperback (February 1st, 1983): $2.75
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Posted by Joshua Buergel on February 5th, 2022
Public Enemy, "Cold Lampin' With Flavor"
The Flavor Flav joint on It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back is the scar that sets off the perfection of the rest of the album perfectly. As a little goof, it's fine, but it's a trifle compared to the rest of the thing. It's not inevitable that Flav's songs will always be like this, not in a world with "911 Is A Joke", but he's just goofing on this one. I mean, he just starts making mouth noises on it.
Four Tops, "I Can't Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)"
You know, with the fact that I never listen to the radio in the car, my kids aren't really exposed to oldies radio, so stuff like this tune aren't going to be familiar to them. I should probably play more Motown around them.
Sulfur, "Black Maria's Ride"
Here's a forgotten record! Sulfur put out one album in 1998, Delerium Tremens, and then disappeared. It's this sort of menacing art rock, full of dramatic instrumentation and big flourishes. There's something undenaibly theatrical about this kind of thing, but it's cetainly plenty entertaining. And come on, that trilling! Anyway, more strange stuff like this!
The Dramatics, "In The Rain"
Stax and Motown in the same list, am I dreaming?
Couch Slut, "All The Way Down"
Noise rock, old rap, couple soul tracks, and a forgotten record from the 90s. It's the full Five Songs experience, let's roll credits!
Couch Slut