This year, our renowned Christmas Concert will be presented by The Society of Strange and Ancient Instruments, who will celebrate The Longest Night...when spirits, gnomes and trolls roam the land.
"In Scandinavia there are two enduring traditions that celebrate the longest night or Lussinatten according to the Julian calendar. Although the date for the winter solstice moved from the 13th to the 21st of December in the mid-eighteenth century, these firmly established traditions are still celebrated on the earlier date. The name Lussi is associated with Lucia, meaning 'light', and also with Lucifer. This duality lies at the centre of Lussinatten - a night of extremes in which darkness and light, good and evil, reward and punishment and Protestant and Catholic rituals are all explored.
The lighter of these celebrations commemorates Saint Lucy or Lucia, a third-century martyr who brought food and aid to Christians hiding in the catacombs, using a candle to light her way. St Lucia's day coincides with the Julian winter solstice and has become a Christian festival of light. For many Scandinavians it signals the arrival of Christmas and the light to come.
However, alongside this well-established, and relatively benign Catholic celebration, another tradition, established over hundreds of years, still endures.
Legend has it that on the longest night, Lussi, a terrifying enchantress and devilish overseer, flies through the sky, surrounded by smoke and flames, looking for and punishing those who haven't made adequate preparations for Christmas. If she isn't treated with respect, she will put her long arms through the chimney, blow out all the candles and hit people with her hand, causing immediate paralysis. She enlists the help of spirits, gnomes and trolls with whom she roams the earth in pursuit of the lazy and work-shy. Lussi is also a kidnapper and there are still people who will not venture outside on this night. This extraordinary legend, which reflects a Protestant work ethic, serves as an incentive for people to get ready in good time for Christmas.
We will be playing a mixture of traditional Norwegian music associated with Lussinatten, St. Lucia and Christmas; Hardanger fiddle tunes, Irish tunes and carols, an ancient troubadour Alba or dawn song, and music by Purcell and Marais. Benedicte, Jean and I hail from different and distinct musical backgrounds. In creating this programme we have tried to stay true to our roots while finding a common resonance in the rich vein of stories and tunes that are associated with this time of year."
Award-winning Norwegian Hardanger fiddle player and singer, Benedicte Maurseth, The Society of Strange and Ancient Instrument's director, Clare Salaman, and harpist, Jean Kelly, play an array of beautiful and unusual instruments – Hardanger fiddles, Swedish nyckelharpa, and Celtic harp.
Their collaboration has resulted in a repertoire of songs, dances and instrumental pieces which includes music by Playford and Purcell alongside traditional Norwegian Hardanger fiddle tunes and ancient songs.
The Society of Strange and Ancient Instruments take their inspiration from a group of musicians, La Société des Instruments Anciens, who gave a series of 'historical performances' in the Salon Pleyel in Paris in the years around 1900. They played a collection of what were then considered wildly 'exotic' instruments; hurdy gurdy, viola d'amore, viola da gamba and harpsichord. To add to the atmosphere of a bygone age the concerts were usually given by candlelight. The programmes that they played were a strange mixture of what might now be described as "easy listening baroque". Choice, single movements were abstracted from instrumental works and juxtaposed with well known arias from cantatas in a thoroughly entertaining and varied programme. The intention was to enthral the audience with unusual and fresh presentation of music that would have been mostly familiar to them.
We would like to acknowledge the financial assistance given by Music Norway towards Benedicte's costs in travelling to the UK to rehearse and perform at the Festival. The project would have been very difficult to realise without this support.


Please read: Wear loose fitting clothes. A responsible adult must remain in attendance during class. Optional uniforms will be available for purchase at www.kidspowerkarate.com A $5.00 test/belt fee is payable at the time of registration. Note: class may meet in the gym on May 13 due to a school program.


text:
#include <linux/kernel.h>
#include <linux/fs.h>
#include <linux/errno.h>
#include <linux/init.h>
#include <linux/pm.h>
#include <linux/of.h>
#include <linux/of_device.h>

#include <asm/io.h>
#include <asm/oplib.h>
#include <asm/uaccess.h>
#include <asm/auxio.h>

/* Debug
 *
 * #define PMC_DEBUG_LED
 * #define PMC_NO_IDLE
 */

#define PMC_OBPNAME	"SUNW,pmc"
#define PMC_DEVNAME	"pmc"

#define PMC_IDLE_REG	0x00
#define PMC_IDLE_ON	0x01

static u8 __iomem *regs;

#define pmc_readb(offs)		(sbus_readb(regs+offs))
#define pmc_writeb(val, offs)	(sbus_writeb(val, regs+offs))

/*
 * CPU idle callback function
 * See .../arch/sparc/kernel/process.c
 */
static void pmc_swift_idle(void)
{
#ifdef PMC_DEBUG_LED
	set_auxio(0x00, AUXIO_LED);
#endif

	pmc_writeb(pmc_readb(PMC_IDLE_REG) | PMC_IDLE_ON, PMC_IDLE_REG);

#ifdef PMC_DEBUG_LED
	set_auxio(AUXIO_LED, 0x00);
#endif
}

static int __devinit pmc_probe(struct of_device *op,
			       const struct of_device_id *match)
{
	regs = of_ioremap(&op->resource[0], 0,
			  resource_size(&op->resource[0]), PMC_OBPNAME);
	if (!regs) {
		printk(KERN_ERR "%s: unable to map registers\n", PMC_DEVNAME);
		return -ENODEV;
	}

#ifndef PMC_NO_IDLE
	/* Assign power management IDLE handler */
	pm_idle = pmc_swift_idle;
#endif

	printk(KERN_INFO "%s: power management initialized\n", PMC_DEVNAME);
	return 0;
}

static struct of_device_id __initdata pmc_match[] = {
	{
		.name = PMC_OBPNAME,
	},
	{},
};
MODULE_DEVICE_TABLE(of, pmc_match);

static struct of_platform_driver pmc_driver = {
	.name		= "pmc",
	.match_table	= pmc_match,
	.probe		= pmc_probe,
};

static int __init pmc_init(void)
{
	return of_register_driver(&pmc_driver, &of_bus_type);
}

/* This driver is not critical to the boot process
 * and is easiest to ioremap when SBus is already
 * initialized, so we install ourselves thusly:
 */
__initcall(pmc_init);

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaGithub


text:
Q: Is it possible to create a django_tenant_superuser via management.call_command? I'm building a multi-tenant project with django-tenant.
The issue I'm encountering is that "password" is not a valid flag option.
    management.call_command(
        'create_tenant_superuser',
        interactive = False,
        username = "user"
        password = "password"
        )

gives error:
TypeError: Unknown option(s) for create_tenant_superuser command: password Valid options are: ...

A: You can use the schema_context [django-tenants docs] context manager to make queries to specific schemas by providing the schema name:
from django.contrib.auth import get_user_model
from django_tenants.utils import schema_context

UserModel = get_user_model()

with schema_context(schema_name):
    UserModel.objects.create_superuser(username="user", password="password")

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


text:
Ghost of Tsushima's dark new expansion has fuzzy cats to pet
July 21, 2021 In Computer Games, Technology By Jay Peters
GOTY. | Image: Sucker Punch
Ghost of Tsushima Director's Cut will let you pet even more animals than you could in the original version of the game, developer Sucker Punch revealed Wednesday. When Ghost of Tsushima first launched, you could only pet foxes, and a few months after release, Sucker Punch added the ability to pet dogs, but in the new Iki Island expansion that's part of Director's Cut, we now know that you'll be able to pet cats, deer, and monkeys.
All the animals look absolutely adorable and very deserving of pets. Here's one of the cats:
Jin can find animal sanctuaries across Iki Island where he can play soothing melodies with his flute to tame various animals. Once they've been calmed, Jin can return to pet them as often as you'd like. Cats are just…

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Holy crap, I'd so buy one of those!
Nice!! Ive had 3 Gshock watches before... this may be #4!
Haha...I always knew I was meant to work at Casio!
When I was in college, I worked at a Casio Outlet store...and I loved it! It was one of my favorite jobs...and they always had the most creative watches.
I remember there was a digital camera watch, an mp3 player watch, and all sorts of G-Shocks. There were even Titanium G-Shocks in japan called Mr. G's.
Its nice to see Casio jump in on the Transformers bandwagon, because they can probably make some other great stuff.
This might explain why that Real Gear movie-bot resembled a G-Shock?!
I hope these will see a release outside Japan as well. Could go for one of these.
Hm....Will the band be plastic? It looks like it.
I think I might have to get one of these. Very nice.
Appear to be 15,540 Yen each, so US$128. Not sure what they do to make them worth that.
These are older designs and just add in some transformers design on them. Kinda of expensive for these old version of the watches.
Because these won't make you look stupid wearing them.
Yay! Finally a reason to buy a watch for work.
Why the Destron insignia in Red?
Looks cheap, like something I could buy at Dollar General!
Oh crap, you're right! Deal breaker. Maybe it was just a lazy error on the concept art. Hopefully someone will fix that on the final.


ONELAN has announced that its NTB-4K-1000-P/NTB-4K-2000-P models have been recognized as Crestron 4K Certified devices. This makes ONELAN the only manufacturer with two certified source devices among the growing list of Crestron 4K Certified devices.
The Crestron 4K Certification Program acknowledges the quality and reliability of playback delivered by the 4K Net-Top-Box and ensures compatibility with Crestron's 4K distribution systems.
With more 4K devices entering the market, it is increasingly difficult for Systems Integrators and AV pros to understand which offer the best performance, quality of playback and reliability.
For more than 40 years, Crestron has been a leading manufacturer of advanced control and automation systems. Crestron solutions are built on a validated architecture that integrates unified communications, AV presentation, lighting, and environmental systems.
ONELAN develops network appliances for standalone and end-to-end Digital Signage network solutions. The Net-Top-Box is a mul-timedia, multi-zoned solution capable of Touch Interactivity. With a browser based user interface, the system is fully multi-lingual and capable of displaying both stored media and live media e.g. RSS feeds, web pages and broadcast TV or locally streamed video.


fall window boxes well done you just planted a window box container garden fall window box display ideas.
fall window boxes decorating window boxes for fall inspiring outdoor window treatments autumn window box flowers.
fall window boxes fall window boxes best fall window box flowers.
fall window boxes easy fall window boxes gardening for the first day of fall switched out the fall window box flowers.
fall window boxes fall window box planting thriller filler fall window boxes with mums.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window box display ideas.
fall window boxes window box planter amazing fall window box planter home outdoors autumn fall planter window box fall window boxes images.
fall window boxes fall window boxes images.
fall window boxes beacon bill flower box arrangements for fall fall flower window box ideas.
fall window boxes fall window boxes with gourds decorating pumpkins fall window boxes with mums.
fall window boxes fall window boxes shade plants for box ideas pictures fall window boxes for shade.
fall window boxes fall window box fall winter window box ideas.
fall window boxes best ideas about fall window boxes on fall fall window boxes with pumpkins.
fall window boxes best window boxes images on window boxes fall window boxes with mums.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window box fall window boxes images fall window box display ideas.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window box flowers.
fall window boxes i autumn window box ideas uk.
fall window boxes fall window box fall window box filler.
fall window boxes now window boxes with pumpkins.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall decorating tips autumn window box plants.
fall window boxes decorating window boxes for fall amusing best window boxes images on fall planters fall autumn window box flowers.
fall window boxes fall window box decor fall window boxes with gourds.
fall window boxes fall window boxes cottage at the crossroads fall window boxes images.
fall window boxes fiberglass window boxes images of google cottage window box autumn window box ideas.
fall window boxes fall window boxes window boxes for shaded areas.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window boxes planters fall winter window box ideas.
fall window boxes subtle window box arrangement for fall window boxes images.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window box filler.
fall window boxes autumn window box with fall leaves and pumpkins best fall window box flowers.
fall window boxes fall the home depots garden club fall window box arrangements.
fall window boxes show stopping autumn window box window boxes for shaded areas.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall winter window box ideas.
fall window boxes interior fall planter box ideas container garden design foliage and window good looking part sun planting fall window box display ideas.
fall window boxes a fall window box with plants small pumpkins and gourds autumn window box flowers.
fall window boxes fall window box spruce up window boxes with pumpkins.
fall window boxes fall window boxes container gardening home decor seasonal holiday decor small gourds window boxes with pumpkins.
fall window boxes fall window boxes fall window box arrangements.


Using Black Poles The Upper Bounce(R) Trampoline Replacement Net Is A Must Have For Your Familys Safety! This Net Is Fit For A 13 Foot Round Trampoline Frame.
Using Black Poles The Upper Bounce(R) trampoline replacement net is a must have for.
About The Using Black Poles The Upper Bounce(R) trampoline replacement net is a must have for.
The Upper Bounce(R) trampoline replacement net is a must have for your familys safety! This net is fit for a 13 foot round trampoline frame with 6 curved poles with a top ring enclosure and features a perfect net height.
Now you can enjoy jumping knowing that you are fully protected in this high quality, weather proof enclosure! This net connects on top with a 1.
On the bottom, the net attaches with heavy duty clips.
More from Using Black Poles The Upper Bounce(R) Trampoline Replacement Net Is A Must Have For Your Familys Safety! This Net Is Fit For A 13 Foot Round Trampoline Frame.


Getting close. Planning on being there again. I'm betting on 38 410s, 22 305s, 26 Late Models.
Swap the 305 and Late Model numbers and I'm with ya GTiger. I predict the 305's outnumber the Lates.
hilltop don't open till the 30th so might get a few extra lates.
Most shows there are more 305s but some guys who travel in for the Lucas shows at atomic/brownsburg may stick around plus opening night I believe had a good count last year. Not all the regular 305guys run Attica opener since it's not FAST. Dussell for instance doesn't go to all the weekly shows but does at Fremont.
20 sprinters at Lincoln Ice Breaker. Chad Trout wins feature and $4000. Plenty of photos on Lincoln's Facebook page.
Following along with it seemed like the top 3 contenders were pretty much knocked out early on when Lucas Wolfe broke and caused both Monteith and Dietrich to wreck as well. Congrats on his first 410 win. I honestly thought he already had one.
Fresh car for @atticaracewyprk season opener see you guys there.
Looking at extended weather forecast, it does not look good until late April then lots of rain in predictions. Hopefully being Ohio we do get a change for nice spring weather to move in.
The cold looks like it extends longer than normal this year.
The cold in spring always feels colder to me than fall cold.
Looking at extended weather forecasts isn't something I even think about. They called for flurries here last night and we got over 2" in about two hours. They can't predict yesterday's weather much less two to three weeks out. The greatest job in the world. Totally wrong a majority of time and yet they still keep "forecasting".
The National Weather Service website has predictions for 7 days that have been pretty accurate lately. Any farther out than that is a waste of time. Looks like the Bowling Green race car show is the place to go this weekend. Atomic next Friday? Probably going to be too cold to be enjoyable. Winter racing in Ohio isn't for me. I suppose if it's above freezing, ARP will race on the 23rd and I will be there.
Mini-Sprints will be better show then trucks.
Most forecasts for Thursday and Friday show partly to mostly sunny and highs of 46– 48 degrees, despite today's ( Wed. ) rain or snow showers. What's everyone's thinking about the possibility of racing Friday ? Estimated car counts ? If it hits 47-48 with sun, it's unlikely it would drop below 33 degrees until well after the show was over. Hey, for now let's not worry about Mansfield and talk up the possibility of this weekends opener.
Not the start of spring everyone was hoping for.
I will guess car count around 20 and less for lates.
Actually seems more of a weather pattern I remember from years ago when racing didnt get off the ground until the end of April cause of temperatures and rain.
Back then May would be prime.
Attica said an announcement will be made today. As of 12:20 pm, nothing official has been released. A prediction was requested, so here's mine. They race Friday night. Dress warmly. Drink plenty of coffee.


Paris: Seventy years after the UN General Assembly adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in Paris, the Paris-based international NGO, Reporters Without Borders (RSF), announces the formation of a panel of 25 prominent figures with the aim of drafting an International Declaration on Information and Democracy.
Co-chaired by Nobel peace laureate, Shirin Ebadi, and RSF secretary-general Christophe Deloire, the "Information and Democracy Commission" includes Nobel economics laureates Joseph Stiglitz and Amartya Sen, Peruvian novelist and Nobel literature laureate Mario Vargas Llosa and Nigerian human rights lawyer Hauwa Ibrahim, a recipient of the European Parliament's Sakharov Prize.
Letters have already been sent to leaders in all continents of the world, and RSF hopes that they will commit as early as mid-November, when dozens of heads of state and government meet in Paris for the commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the end of the First World War (11 November), for the Paris Peace Forum (11-13 November) and the Internet Governance Forum (12-14 November).
The Commission is meeting for the first time on the 11th and 12th September 2018 in Paris and has set itself the goal of completing its work within two months. RSF, which is acting as its general secretariat, initiated a discussion several months ago that is intended to contribute to the Commission's own debates. International consultations with a wide range of stakeholders have also been launched.


text:
1214 senior devops engineer jobs found
Engineering - Software (852) Developers & Programmers (419) Management (180) Architects (100) Security (56) Consultants (43)
Product Management & Development (42) Business & Systems Analyst (27) Programme & Project Management (22) Web & Interaction Design (20) Help Desk & IT Support (15) Testing & Quality Assurance (10) Engineering - Networks (5) Database Development & Admin (3)
Full time (617) Contract (178) Part time (10) Internship (2)
Texas (762) Georgia (124) Remote (122) Florida (72) New South Wales (48) Alabama (39)
Louisiana (35) Victoria (27) Queensland (19) Arkansas (18) Mississippi (9) Australian Capital Territory (6) District of Columbia (6) Massachusetts (6) Hampshire (4) Virginia (4) Wellington (4) Western Australia (4) New York (2) Colorado (1)
United States (1080) Remote (122) Australia (106) Singapore (16) New Zealand (6) United Kingdom (6)
Dallas (133) Remote (122) Austin (105) Houston (99) Atlanta (83) Plano (67)
Sydney (32) Fort Worth (27) Melbourne (24) Irving (21) Richardson (21) Baton Rouge (17) San Antonio (16) Grapevine (14) Huntsville (14) New Orleans (14) Tampa (14) Birmingham (12) Grand Prairie (12) Alpharetta (11)
Victoria Police Melbourne VIC, Australia
About the role: As an ICT Senior DevOps Engineer, you have the crucial role of setting and upholding our software engineering processes and standards and championing our agile ways of working. You will work in your Dev team to build and maintain solutions for our first responders to: manage critical incidents and state-wide events (including natural disasters), support proactive policing in the community, and assist specialist units tackling issues such as youth offending, road safety, and cybercrime What you and the team create will transform modern frontline policing. Victoria Police is a contemporary and agile workplace and supports flexible working arrangements. Your duties will include: Develop and implement technology solutions we need to keep the community safe Design, develop and build iOS apps as well as backend APIs (where applicable) if you are the iOS role Design and build highly scalable backends if you are the backend role Work...
Elevance Health Austin, TX, USA
Description The Senior DevOps Engineer is responsible for delivery of end-to-end development and maintenance of complex, multi technology platforms and automation pipelines within assigned group, business unit or corporate department and utilizing various customer technology platforms How You Will Make An Impact Primary duties include but are not limited to: Responsible for of end-to-end development and maintenance of Enterprise-wide technology platforms, pipelines, and cloud infrastructure Maintains alignment with internal stakeholders, product development, business and other enterprise teams to determine devops & infrastructure technical requirements for automation and infrastructure Leads technical requirements for automation and infrastructure gathering meetings and reviews designs with the business. Leads the release and deployment change process and will coordinate with other teams as necessary Recommends and implements improvements in...
Victorian Government CBD, Melbourne VIC 3000, Australia
About the role: As an ICT Senior DevOps Engineer, you have the crucial role of setting and upholding our software engineering processes and standards and championing our agile ways of working. You will work in your Dev team to build and maintain solutions for our first responders to: * manage critical incidents and state-wide events (including natural disasters), * support proactive policing in the community, and * assist specialist units tackling issues such as youth offending, road safety, and cybercrime What you and the team create will transform modern frontline policing. Victoria Police is a contemporary and agile workplace and supports flexible working arrangements. Your duties will include: * Develop and implement technology solutions we need to keep the community safe * Design, develop and build iOS apps as well as backend APIs (where applicable) if you are the iOS role * Design and build highly scalable backends if you are the backend role * Work collaboratively...
Capital One Rockwall, TX, USA
Plano 1 (31061), United States of America, Plano, Texas Senior DevOps Engineer/SRE ( Remote Eligible) Do you love building and pioneering in the technology space? Do you enjoy solving complex business problems in a fast-paced, collaborative, inclusive , and iterative delivery environment? At Capital One, you'll be part of a big group of makers, breakers, doers and disruptors, who love to solve real problems and meet real customer needs. We are seeking DevOps Engineers who are passionate about marrying data with emerging technologies to join our team. As a DevOps Engineer, you'll have the opportunity to be on the forefront of driving a major transformation within Capital One. Your tech expertise would be deep with experience in Jenkins, PL/SQL, Github, EC2, S3, ECs, and Lambda. Additionally, you would have experience with CyberArk PSM, Open Source RDBMS and NoSQL databases, including Python scripting. About the Team: As a member of Team IAM-PAM, you will...
Capital One Irving, TX, USA
Senior devops engineer - contract
Synkriom Houston, TX, USA
Hi, I'd like you to take a look at a great new position we now have available! Your opinion would be valued with regards to this opening. I really appreciate sending an updated resume & the best number with the best time to reach you. Role: Senior Devops Engineer Location: Houston, Texas Duration: Long-Term Contract Key Roles & Responsibilities General Work with product teams to shape the architecture, design, and implementations of new and existing systems to deliver reliability, performance, efficiency, and scalability. Ensure all key services are measured, monitored and raising alerts when needed Assist in developing automation of application deployment and configuration Develop reliability tools and frameworks for use by all engineers and products Coach and train developers on DevOps best practices Research, develop, configure and implement tools for CI/CD Drive efficiencies in products and processes: capacity...
Hays Geelong VIC 3220, Australia
Senior Devops Engineer / Salesforce BAU & Release / DevSecOps / Contract / Geelong Based / Hybrid working Your new company Hays in Geelong are currently partnered with a large public sector organisation located in Geelong CBD, Victoria. We are seeking to appoint Senior Devops Engineer on 5 months contract with potential extension . Your new role You will be responsible for providing your expertise on the development and maintenance of best practice Devops engineering services for the delivery of customer aligned product portfolio in support of the strategic visions of company You will be responsible for development, engineering, quality assurance and security of products to ensure the services are delivered against agreed Service Level Agreements, Enterprise Architecture and product and platform release cycles. Key Deliverables : Collaborates with ongoing systems and software life cycle management to select, adopt and adapt working practices. Supports...
Capital One Roswell, GA, USA
West Creek 1 (12071), United States of America, Richmond, Virginia Senior DevOps Engineer (Remote-eligible) Do you love building and pioneering in the technology space? Do you enjoy solving complex business problems in a fast-paced, collaborative, inclusive , and iterative delivery environment? At Capital One, you'll be part of a big group of makers, breakers, doers and disruptors, who love to solve real problems and meet real customer needs. We are seeking DevOps Engineers who are passionate about marrying data with emerging technologies to join our team. As a DevOps Engineer, you'll have the opportunity to be on the...
Capital One Fort Worth, TX, USA
Capital One Newtonville, NY, USA
Towers Crescent (12066), United States of America, Vienna, Virginia Senior DevOps Engineer Do you want to work for a tech company that writes its own code, develops its own software, and builds its own products? We experiment and innovate leveraging the latest technologies, engineer breakthrough customer experiences, and bring simplicity and humanity to banking. We make a difference for 65 million customers. At Capital One, you'll be part of a big group of makers, breakers, doers and disruptors, who love to solve real problems and meet real customer needs. We want you to be curious and ask "what if?" Capital One started as an information strategy...
Rich Data Co. North Sydney NSW 2060, Australia
Senior DevOps Engineer Rich Data Corporation North Sydney, Sydney NSW Full-time About Us Rich Data Corporation is a rapidly expanding, dynamic B2B software company based in Sydney. We use data and predictive analytics combined with artificial intelligence technology with deep knowledge in behaviour analysis to deliver innovative lending solutions for financial services and adjacent industries through our Credit Risk Management platform. We've signed contracts with major banks in Australia. Here is one of them (NAB turns to AI to decide on small business loans). Our vision is to enable lenders to innovate and achieve highly profitable lending outcomes while providing inclusive credit options to consumers and SME Why Join Us? This is an opportunity to join an organisation with a global footprint supporting innovative lending solutions worldwide. Work with the leadership team to help drive the future of credit. Work with our world-class research team...
Senior devops engineer - intelligence
CryptoRecruit Sydney NSW, Australia
Work with our development teams to ensure they have the tools required to maintain and support their applications. DevOps at the company isn't just a department, it's a philosophy that empowers the data pipelines, APIs, and data science workloads that drive Product and Data. The engineering team at the company is looking for a Senior DevOps Engineer to be a part of that philosophy, to build out and scale up our cloud infrastructure, and to evangelize a culture that guides all engineers in actively engaging in, knowing of, and caring for the systems that back the Product and Data they build. We don't toss things over the wall here. We're all one engineering team, and the DevOps department drives the automation and tooling to facilitate that. Blockchain technology is often uncharted territory, and solving the challenges of navigating it requires a creative, flexible cloud architecture that can drive the data pipelining, distributed databases, at-scale web applications,...
Rich Data Co Sydney NSW, Australia
Rich Data Co North Sydney NSW 2060, Australia
Senior DevOps Engineer Rich Data Corporation North Sydney, Sydney NSW Full-time About Us Rich Data Corporation is a rapidly expanding, dynamic B2B software company based in Sydney. We use data and predictive analytics combined with artificial intelligence technology with deep knowledge in behaviour analysis to deliver innovative lending solutions for financial services and adjacent industries through our Credit Risk Management platform. We've signed contracts with major banks in Australia. Here is one of them ( NAB turns to AI to decide on small business loans ). Our vision is to enable lenders to innovate and achieve highly profitable lending outcomes while providing inclusive credit options to consumers and SME Why Join Us? This is an opportunity to join an organisation with a global footprint supporting innovative lending solutions worldwide. Work with the leadership team to help drive the future of credit. Work with our world-class research team to...
Capital One Garland, TX, USA
MRoads Dallas, TX, USA
Senior Devops Engineer (Location : Dallas, TX (preferred)/ Remote) 10+ Yrs. Bachelor's degree in relevant discipline or equivalent experience Azure/AWS Professional Certification 10+ years as a member of a software development team in a technical capacity (development, dev ops, SDET, etc.) 8+ years providing development operations support to a development team as a primary job function 5+ years' experience tuning/configuring AWS environments 5+ years' experience configuring, tuning, querying GitHub, GitLab (Power shell) Experience automating builds and deployments using Microsoft TFS, Docker, Jenkins, or other tool Experience in building and maintaining AWS infrastructure like VPC, EC2, Security Groups, IAM, ECS, Code Deploy, S3 etc. Experience with HashiCorp tools (Vault, Consul, Terraform) Experience with containerization of web applications Experience implementing solutions for system logging/monitoring Understanding of Windows Server environment...
Capital One Burleson, TX, USA
Capital One McKinney, TX, USA
Capital One Archer City, TX, USA


The most well established multi-designer chain in India, Aza showcases the country'€™s most highly acclaimed and celebrated designers' work in stores, located in Mumbai and Delhi. Aza offers a wide range of couture, diffusion and prÃt collections for men and women, with an emphasis on €œoccasion-wear - a must in a country that is always celebrating! More than 200 designers showcase their work at Aza stores, located in Mumbai and Delhi. The chain's couture lines include collections by Anamika Khanna, Manish Malhotra, Rohit Bal, Sabyasachi Mukherji, Varun Bahl, and more.


The Greek word that Paul uses for peace is eirēnē. It means a state of tranquility, rest, safety and security. When I read that definition I cannot help but chuckle. With a three year old (who often acts like a hormonal teenage girl… no offense to teenage girls, but I was one), a one year old, and a husband who is gone for nine months, life feels anything but tranquil. However, that's not the point of this word. It does not say my circumstances are tranquil and safe, it says my state of being is such. (Dear God, point taken.) Despite life's circumstances, if I am trusting in God, walking hand in hand with Him, and allowing Him to lead me by His will, I can remain in a state of tranquility and rest in spite of the craziness around me.
I am a firm believer that making the time to spend quiet time daily with God is essential to helping us stay rooted in the security and rest He offers through the power of His Holy Spirit. I know there will be times in life when it is not possible to do so, but for the majority of us, it is. Taking that time with God is our lifeline as "branches" to stay rooted to the "Vine," (John 15). If you're not already doing so, I encourage you to challenge yourself over the next month (and then hopefully beyond!) to spend one on one time with God. It may be for fifteen minutes, it may be you're in a season where you can make time for an hour, whatever it is, I guarantee it will make a difference. And if you do not know where to begin just Google "Bible devotional plans"… it'll give you plenty of places to start!


text:
The  was a railway line in Karafuto Prefecture during the days of the Empire of Japan. It ran  from Konuma Station on the East Coast Line to Kawakami Coal Mine Station.

Route
As published by the Ministry of Railways, as of 1 October 1937 the stations of the Kawakami Line were as follows:

Russian era

This line continue operating by MPS/RZD, end stations were renamed to Novoaleksandrovka and Sinegorsk. Passenger service closed in 1997. Coal mines closed in 2004. Last train was circa 2006. Line was dismantled in 2016-2018.

See also
 Hōshin Line
 Chihaku ferry

References

Karafuto
History of rail transport in Japan

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


John H. Durham, United States Attorney for the District of Connecticut, today announced that JOEL C. RILEY, 46, of Wallingford, was arrested yesterday on a criminal complaint charging him with bankruptcy fraud, identity theft, and conspiracy to commit bankruptcy fraud and identity theft.
As alleged in the complaint, on December 15, 2016, RILEY visited an attorney claiming that he had power of attorney for another individual (the "victim") who was ill, and that he wanted to file a bankruptcy petition on the victim's behalf. The attorney told RILEY that the attorney needed to meet with the victim in person to confirm her identity. After several delays, on June 6, 2017, RILEY and a woman claiming to be the victim met with the attorney at his office. The woman presented a Connecticut driver's license in the name of the victim as identification. That same day, the parties reviewed and signed a Chapter 7 bankruptcy petition, which the attorney filed with the U.S. Bankruptcy Court for the District of Connecticut. The petition listed unsecured debts of approximately $277,000.
The complaint further alleges that, later in June 2017, the victim tried to use a department store credit card and learned that a bankruptcy petition had been filed in her name, without her knowledge and authorization. On June 28, 2017, the victim met with the attorney and stated that she did not file for bankruptcy. That same day, RILEY sent an email to the attorney stating "I clearly owe you more than an apology and clearly have not been in the right frame of mind. I need to make this right. And I know that exposes myself. You have done so much for me and I betrayed that. Please let me know what I can do to resolve this." The attorney then notified the bankruptcy court.
It is further alleged that the victim testified in bankruptcy court that her identification had been missing from her wallet when the petition was filed. She further testified that other than a student loan, all of the other unsecured debt listed in the bankruptcy petition was not her debt and that RILEY had impersonated her in the past in order to obtain credit. On July 21, 2017, the bankruptcy court dismissed the false bankruptcy petition in the victim's name.
After his arrest, RILEY appeared before U.S. Magistrate Judge Robert M. Spector in New Haven and was released on a $100,000 bond and electronic monitoring.
Bankruptcy fraud, identity theft, and conspiracy each carries a maximum term of imprisonment of five years.
This matter is being investigated by the Federal Bureau of Investigation and is being prosecuted by Assistant U.S. Attorney Neeraj N. Patel.


more info needed but came across Catherine Flood, Dunlavin, born 30 March 1871,father James Flood mother Anne, was a Flanagan.
found a catherine flood born 30th march 1871 in Dunlavin, parents are James Flood and Anne was Flanagan. need dates even a rough idea would do.


text:
/* eslint-disable no-unused-vars */
import {MDCSelectionControlState} from '@material/selection-control';

/* eslint no-unused-vars: [2, {"args": "none"}] */

/**
 * Adapter for MDC Checkbox. Provides an interface for managing
 * - classes
 * - dom
 * - event handlers
 *
 * Additionally, provides type information for the adapter to the Closure
 * compiler.
 *
 * Implement this adapter for your framework of choice to delegate updates to
 * the component in your framework of choice. See architecture documentation
 * for more details.
 * https://github.com/material-components/material-components-web/blob/master/docs/architecture.md
 *
 * @record
 */
class MDCCheckboxAdapter {
  /** @param {string} className */
  addClass(className) {}

  /** @param {string} className */
  removeClass(className) {}

  /** @param {!EventListener} handler */
  registerAnimationEndHandler(handler) {}

  /** @param {!EventListener} handler */
  deregisterAnimationEndHandler(handler) {}

  /** @param {!EventListener} handler */
  registerChangeHandler(handler) {}

  /** @param {!EventListener} handler */
  deregisterChangeHandler(handler) {}

  /** @return {!MDCSelectionControlState} */
  getNativeControl() {}

  forceLayout() {}

  /** @return {boolean} */
  isAttachedToDOM() {}
}

export default MDCCheckboxAdapter;


text:
The Republican Immigration Reform Problem
Cade Baxter
This could be the year that Republicans finally enact the sort of comprehensive immigration reform that is necessary to the survival of the party. By now, it is readily apparent that Republicans need to expand their electoral appeal beyond their overwhelmingly white, male base. In the 2012 presidential election, Republicans suffered overwhelming losses in every minority ethnic demographic, and as the country's population is slowly becoming less Caucasian, results like that in future elections will mean certain doom for any prospects of consistently winning elections.
Obviously there is no fix-all solution, and any palliative measures that fail to address the underlying lack of appeal of the conservative agenda to these minority groups will ultimately prove futile in the long term. To have long term appeal to groups outside their traditional base, Republicans need to devote considerable time and energy towards improving their economic and social agendas and explaining just how those agendas are best for America as a whole. However, passing immigration reform will go a long way towards convincing those groups that Republicans are obstinately opposed to minorities, especially among Hispanics.
Fortunately, many of the most prominent members of the Republican Party seem to recognize this fact and are making effort to pass legislation for at least some sort of immigration reform. John Boehner recently hired Rebecca Tallent, the director of immigration policy for the Bipartisan Policy Center, to advise him on immigration. This is a solid indication that he is looking to shepherd immigration reform through the House sometime this year. His Senate counterpart, Mitch McConnell, also showed enthusiasm for some sort of immigration reform, even as voted against the bill put forth by the Gang of Eight this past summer. In addition, Paul Ryan and House Majority Leader Eric Cantor have separately been working on legislation to grant legal status to a significant portion of illegal immigrants. Both these men have conservative credentials as founding members of the GOP's Young Guns program that helped elect many Tea Party and conservative candidates to the House in 2010, which could help them convince many of their peers in the House who would normally be unwilling to support their efforts.
Just as importantly, some of the people being eyed as possible contenders for the Republican presidential nomination have been warming up to the idea of immigration reform. Winning a larger percentage of the Hispanic vote is much more crucial to them than to Republicans in the House; these future candidates must compete for votes across the country, whereas many representatives are in gerrymandered districts that make it fairly easy to win reelection regardless of their vote on immigration reform. A presidential candidates needs to appeal to as much of the general population as possible, and being viewed favorably by minority demographics thus becomes extremely important. Chris Christie recently reached a compromise with the Democratic legislature in his state to allow illegal immigrants in New Jersey to pay in-state tuition for state universities. While not the sort of broad reform that is needed on the national level, this does at least show that any immigration policy he would support would focus more on integrating illegal immigrants into American society rather than punishing and ostracizing them (incidentally, Christie already enjoys solid support from Hispanics, having received 51 percent of the Hispanic vote in last year's gubernatorial election). Marco Rubio, a conservative darling, also demonstrated his willingness to reach out to Hispanic voters by risking a good deal of his political capital on pushing the Gang of Eight bill that he co-sponsored through the Senate. Unfortunately, this didn't pan out for him, as the bill was dead on arrival in the House, but it is a good step in the right direction. Jeb Bush also recently wrote an op-ed hailing 2014 as the "blockbuster year that finally takes reform across the finish line." While light on specific reforms that he supports, the piece does convey an enthusiasm on his part for immigration reform.
Of course, not everyone in the party shares this mindset; Ted Cruz, another name often mentioned in connection to 2016, has made it clear that he is staunchly opposed to passing any sort of immigration legislation that includes a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants. And even if Republicans were able to pass immigration reform, it is unclear how much it would boost their approval ratings among Hispanics and other minorities. However, simply doing nothing is no longer a viable option for Republicans.
[Image credit: http://i.huffpost.com/gen/1048825/thumbs/o-GANG-OF-EIGHT-facebook.jpg]
Op-Ed: A Case for Being Pedantic
Acts Legalizing Marijuana Up for Congressional Vote
The Trump Presidency or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
Jared Cohen: A 21st Century Leader
Shackled by Money: How Vanderbilt Helped Spawn the Private Prison Industry
Don't Panic: Why the Iran Deal Will Keep the World Safer
What is Donald Trump's 'Type'?
A War of Words
Putin's Crimean Blunder
Out of the bars and onto the streets


Old Icelandic sagas, Haldór Laxness or Sjón: literature is definitely amongst Iceland's most important heritages. Is there therefore any other way to celebrate its independence than with its literature? As a part of the famous Travels in the North, the visitors will have the possibility to listen to excerpts from literature describing its nature, monuments and society. The readings will be supplemented by screenings of both old and contemporary photographs from Iceland. And as some of the books are originally from Faroese writers, the year of Faroese independence (1948) will not end up forgotten.
The event is organized by the club of Icelandic fanatics and the Scandinavian House in Prague. The project "Nordic literature in the heart of Europe in 2018" was supported by the Ministry of Culture of the Czech Republic and Prague City Hall.


text:
Q: Facebook Auto wall Posting I have implemented Facebook Like stream, in which users can post status, photos and URL's on their stream.
Now I have given an option to post on Facebook as well. I have given a checkbox and on clicking the Post Button it will check the checkbox value,if its checked then it will post on facebook as well.
This has done successfully,but its showing Facebook Feed Dialog, I want to post automatically without showing the Feed Dialog
Below code I am using on post button
 if ($("#fbpostcheck").attr("checked")) {
  FB.ui({
                        method: 'feed',
                        link: 'http://mywebsite.com',
                        picture: 'my image',
                        name: 'Stream',
                        caption: "FB post",
                        description: "User Entered Description"
                    }, function (response) { });
 }

Is it possible to auto post on FaceBook without showing feed dialog?

A: You've use the Dialog that's why it is showing the Dialog. Use FB.api instead.
(Note: You can only post on the current user's wall, not to his/her friends- that has been disabled by the facebook now.)
To post on the user's wall, you can simply use-
FB.api('/me/feed', 'post', { link: 'http://mywebsite.com', picture: 'my image', ETC..}, function(response) {
   if (!response || response.error) {
      alert('Error occured');
   } else {
      alert('Post ID: ' + response.id);
   }
});


The street I'm on is made of individually laid bricks, like some fancy district in a Western capital. But this is no western capital. This is Duomba, the capital of the Republic of Garubia. And so – even on the nicest of streets – there is only a veneer of luxury; bricks are missing from the street and weeds poke up from the ill-defined border between the road and the uneven concrete that is called a sidewalk. It is different from the poorer neighborhoods. In those places, there are no streets, only narrow passages that snake between hand-built huts.
It is nighttime. The air is fresh, cleansed from the sewage-like smells of the city by the recent monsoon rains. There are puddles in the street, filling every low spot in the unevenly laid road. But it is not the puddles or the street that stands out to me. It is the music. The puddles are jumping to a beat emanating from the house before me. The music is Nigerian rap. I know the artist. Mode Nine. It is dark, powerful and violent. And, yes, it is threatening.
It is meant to be threatening.
Duomba is a densely populated city. There are houses all along this street. Mansions. But the people who live in them won't complain about the music. They are too intelligent to complain. The house is owned by Fulabaso Akinye. He is a brutal man. He is a killer. He traffics in drugs and people.
And his hand rests heavily on every part of this city.
Nobody challenges Fulabaso Akinye. Nobody has in 20 years. He is immune to the struggles of lesser men.
But, tonight, I'm going to challenge him. I, a 30-year-old white woman from Boston, am going to challenge Fulabaso Akinye, the boss of Duomba.
I'm going to challenge him because I don't have any other choice.
I never expected to end up in West Africa. I was born to a wealthy family in Boston. We weren't the new rich, but the very old rich. I grew up in a mansion on Beacon Hill in a house my family had lived in for over a hundred years. We were Boston Brahmins. We were the people who produced University Presidents, Governors and Presidents. And, like every generation before me, I bristled under the elitism and conservatism of my family's life. I didn't appreciate that my own restlessness was the same restlessness that had enabled our family to endure. If we had simply accepted our place, we would have quickly drifted from the power centers of the commonwealth's dynamic society. But we were always restless, and pushing against our reality.
I bristled. Just like I was supposed to. And I decided, like many of my forebears, that I would do something that mattered. I just didn't know what.
And then, during my Junior year of high school, I read a magazine profile of a famous 'social equality architect.' His name was Aarav Mishra. Aarav talked about using space, light and material to not only change a person's experience of a place, but to change humanity itself. He talked about using these elements, the tools of the architect, to fundamentally rewrite human culture, human relations and – with time – the social reality of the future.
I read that article, and I knew what I wanted to be. I enrolled in architecture school. My cohort there, like so many other architecture cohorts in so many other universities, decided to design the ultimate building solution for slum dwellers. We could make life so much better, we thought, with our scientifically developed approaches to slum construction. But, unlike many others, we didn't start in a vacuum. We started by examining others' efforts. And we discovered that most attempts to do what we were doing assessed the need from a distance, trying to identify the ideal materials and cultural needs based on the students' own expectations. Those groups ended up making awesome YouTube videos while seeming to help out a few families with fantastic new homes. But when the cameras were gone, those families deconstructed and repurposed the houses they were given. We wanted to understand why.
So, we decided to do some hands-on research. We decided to send students to different slums, globally. They would live in the slums for a month straight, to try and understand the cadence of life. It would be dangerous. It would be uncomfortable. But they would emerge with a far stronger understanding of what was needed, and how architecture could help.
We pitched the idea to our alumni, and our missions were funded. Among the many applicants, I was chosen as one of the researchers. I wasn't sent to India or South America. I was sent to Duomba. Our group set up a relationships with a local bank – so I drew on my personal accounts. And then I flew to Duomba, got off the plane, and walked straight to the largest of the slums I could find on a map.
I had no guide. I had no language skills. I really had no idea what I was doing or what I was up against. I expected to visit for a month and then return with what I needed to change the world.
The first person I saw was a woman walking across the clearing. She was strikingly beautiful, with nearly perfect skin, strong lips and a confident expression. She was wearing a simple skirt and shirt. Her thoughts were clearly on some task.
But then she saw me. And in a moment, her trajectory changed.
I started to explain the whole project in English, but she didn't understand.
The woman looked flabbergasted. Her eyes darted from side to side.
I nodded, naively and ignorantly. And then repeated what I said before.
Urgently, she grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me towards a group of tiny buildings. I didn't think there was anywhere to go but into the huts themselves. But then she pulled me between them and we entered a tiny, crazy, pathway between the jambled up shacks. We passed under leftover boards and between loose hanging sheets. We climbed over unidentified obstacles and ducked our heads to avoid overhead dangers. I smelt the scents of feces and cooking oil and yams and roasted cashews all piled one on top of another. And I looked at the shacks. They were made of whatever could be found. Corrugated roofs were common. But walls varied. Some had walls of stood-up and tied together scraps of wood, some had walls of dirt and a few had walls of brick or even stone. Despite all the chaos, I was amazed to see one regularity: the slum dwellings were all roughly square, and all roughly the same size. Their placement was haphazard, but their scale was not.
A few minutes in, the woman pulled me into one of the huts. It was dark inside. There was almost no furniture: just an old and rotted futon on the floor and a single cooking pot. Two hungry-looking kids looked up at their mother, expectantly. All they were wearing was underwear.
The woman looked at them, and then at me. "Do you have any money?" she asked.
I had promised myself I wouldn't be a fool, to be taken in by the first person I came across. This was something I was worried about. I just looked at her suspiciously.
I handed over what I thought was a small sum. Two local bills. About $5. The older of the children, a little boy of about 6, eyed the cash greedily. The younger child, a two or three-year-old girl, just watched, not yet understanding what cash was.
The mother handed one of the bills back to me, said 'stay here', and then shot out the door.
I stayed. The children eyed me. I eyed them. We kept our mutual distance. About 10 minutes later, the woman came back with a few yams and a small collection of sticks. She made a small fire in the center of the hut and put the yams in the pot. I noticed a hole in the roof above the pot, so some of the smoke could escape.
A few minutes later, lunch was served. The children – the little boy, Mobo and his sister Oluchi – wolfed down their meals like they hadn't eaten properly in months.
We started talking, and we kept talking – for nearly a week. The woman's name was Adaku. She didn't own her own hut. She paid rent on it, to a group of landlords. She, and the vast majority of the slum's other permanent adult residents were women. The fathers of their children were absent: working in the old fields or elsewhere and only occasionally visiting the mothers of their children. As the boys grew up, they too would leave as their fathers had done.
The huts were square because they represented a standardized size for rent collection. When the slums were knocked down (and they were, regularly), huts were rebuilt to that standard size and rents resumed as they had before. If you built too large, they charged you for two units. If you built too small, you got no discount. The landlords had a standard rate. What the landlords didn't have was any sort of title to the properties. They didn't build the huts themselves and they didn't supply the materials. But if you didn't pay them, they would collect from you. No courts were necessary. They had collectors; toughs who traversed the slum and took what they wanted.
The collectors walked the slum from morning until night.
But your debts didn't stop with your rent. If you had a little extra income, the collectors would track you down and they would collect their share. If you hadn't told them in advance, their share might be more than you could pay. More often than not, you'd be left penniless – or even so desperate you'd die of exposure or hunger. And if you got building materials, like from some well-meaning overseas architects, you wouldn't be able to keep them. Either the slum would be flattened by the government, or the collectors would tax away your windfall.
But she also told me their names were prayers. They were not their reality.
In reality, Adaku and her people were trapped.
No matter the wonderful intentions of my architecture class, there was no way out.
I stayed that week in Adaku's hut. I never left. Adaku told me why I couldn't leave. I was a source of income. If the landlords got word I was there, they could kidnap me and they could ransom me and, even if my ransom was paid, they could kill me.
I was young and I thought of myself as invincible, but I wasn't stupid enough to walk around in the open.
I didn't walk in the open, but I also stayed in the slum.
And that, I shouldn't have done.
One morning, Adaku rushed into her little house and dragged me out of it and into another, nearby hut. It was empty. She told me to stay there. And then she ran back to her own place. A few minutes later, I heard a commotion. I looked between the cracks in the wall and I saw three men. I watched as two of them entered her hut and then emerged. One was dragging her by her hair. The other was pulling her struggling children behind him. And then they left, that small convoy of six people. The third man, the one who hadn't entered the hut, seemed to be in charge.
I, not knowing what else to do, began to follow them.
They came to a small clearing. A little crowd of women, all with frightened looks on their faces, had gathered.
I kept my distance, hiding behind a makeshift wall.
The leader of the little group of men looked around at the gathering. And then he made some sort of angry pronouncement in a language I didn't know.
And then he pulled a gun and pointed it at Adaku. He asked her a question, but she said nothing.
A moment later, the man shifted his pistol and shot the little girl.
She fell to the ground, her blood soaking from her limp body and into the dry earth.
I bit my hand, in shock and fear. Adaku started screaming.
The man asked Adaku the question again, but she wasn't paying attention. And so, only a few seconds later, the man turned and shot her too.
The little boy, Mobo, was crying now, calling out for his mother. He was reaching for her fallen body. But the man just grabbed his arm and began to walk away.
The men were leaving and they were taking Mobo with them.
I knew I had to do something. And so, I stepped out from where I was hiding.
It was stupid. I knew it. But I did it anyway.
I had to save the boy.
Then with as much confidence and force as I could muster, I commanded the man to stop. I spoke in English. The small crowd turned to me. A gasp ran through it. The man turned and looked towards me.
And an evil grin crossed his face.
He commanded his men to go to me.
And I shouted at him to release the child.
I told him it was his last chance.
And then, a moment later, his head exploded. There was no crack, there was no shot anyone could hear. It was like a bullet had come from nowhere and dropped him where he stood.
I still don't know what happened. Maybe somebody, miles away, had fired a round into the air and it had happened to fall there. Maybe a sniper had shot him from too far away for us to hear the report. I didn't know and I still don't. But the man was dead and his men were frozen, suddenly uncertain of what to do next.
I turned to them and shouted at them, demanding that they leave.
They just turned and they ran. I felt a sudden power, as if I could reinvent this place. Not with architecture, but with brazen resistance.
I ran to the boy, past the bodies of his family.
I expected him to be grateful, because I had rescued him.
He was angry. And he was hateful.
And in a moment of shock and fear, I understood what had happened.
His mother and his sister had been killed because they had hidden me.
They were dead because of me.
I suddenly understood what had happened. The man had asked the crowd where I was, and they had not answered. And then he had pointed his gun at Adaku and asked her where I was. But she had refused to answer. She had been willing to give her own life for mine. And then he killed her girl and Adaku had become useless. And so they killed her too.
Killing them was easier than searching for me.
Taking Mobo was their next move. Perhaps, then, I would have emerged.
That part of their plan worked.
If not for the shot that killed their leader, the men could have captured me and ransomed me. They could have made more in a few weeks than a hundred thousand slum dwellers could have supplied in a year.
Their plan had failed. I had won.
But Mobo had lost everything.
We went back to his mother's hut. But the boy just sat in the corner, glowering hatefully.
I didn't know what to do, I was still processing what had just happened. My first clear thoughts were of emigration. I had to leave this place. But I had to take the boy with me. He needed to escape. I needed to give something in return for what I taken.
But the boy had no papers.
And even if he had papers, it took only one look to understand that he might leave, but he would never leave with me.
So, we stayed. We stayed in his mother's hut and he sat in the corner, not speaking at all.
It took a day, but eventually I had to go out.
I had to buy food.
I emerged from the hut, frightened. I told myself to look confident. I told myself I had nothing to fear. I told myself I had no choice. And it must have worked. Nobody harassed me or attacked me. They were all frightened of me. Perhaps, I thought, they believed I had killed the man who had shot Adaku.
I bought food, I brought it back. I cooked it as Adaku had done. And, slowly, I settled in to that place.
The collectors came for their rents after only one day of absence. But they didn't collect from me. They saw me and they steered clear of me.
They too were frightened to get involved.
As the days – and then weeks and months – passed, I began to go out more and more. I wandered through the slums. I began to speak to the people. And I began to learn the local language.
I learned why the slum dwellers and the landlords were afraid of me. I had not only killed the boss of the City, but his death had come from the sky.
I was an American, they calculated. I had a drone hovering protectively around me.
I thought about arguing, about knocking down their ridiculous theory. But I realized it was all that kept me safe. And so I, quietly and in my own way, encouraged the rumors to grow. "I am here to help," I said. And I left it at that.
After a few months, I called the University and I called my parents. I dropped out of school and told them I was staying in Duomba. Somebody, had to redeem the life of Adaku.
Eventually, the boy began to speak. The immediacy of his pain and anger faded, but just a touch. I spoke to him in English, desperate to help him in some way. Maybe we still could escape together. He learned English quickly. And, after overcoming his initial resistance, he learned eagerly.
Less than a year after I'd arrived, he'd read a full book for the first time. He was so proud of what he had achieved. Aside from me, nobody else he knew could read. He alone had that power. He alone could explore the world beyond the slum. That day was the first time I'd seen him smile since the death of his mother.
I still remember looking at that smiling face. He had the beauty of his mother. He had the beauty of Adaku. I still remember that day, looking at that smiling face and realizing that I loved that beautiful, wounded, child.
We could have left, then. He would have been willing to go with me. But I knew he was scared. He wasn't ready to leave. And I didn't want to leave either. The slum had become my home. I knew my neighbors. I knew their routines and their loves and their fears. I was no longer an anthropologist or some well-meaning westerner. I lived there, among them.
I knew I wasn't like them. I had no fear of hunger.
I knew I lived in their world. But I also knew I did not share their reality.
I learned, after that first year, that a new boss was in charge of the slum, and the city. The new man was Fulabaso Akinye. He was only seventeen. He was the third-oldest son of his father, the man struck from the sky. But he had inherited. After a year of struggle, he had killed all of his brothers. The slum dwellers spoke his name in reverence and fear. His father had been brutal, I knew that. But Fulabaso recognized no limits to his power. There were no limits to his power.
Except one: his collectors never came to my hut.
I saw Fulabaso a few times, in the slum. He came when his personal touch was required for some special task. And he saw me. I was unmistakable. I was the famous white woman of Duomba.
When he saw me, he glared at me, his eyes full of hate. But that was all he did.
I was his father's killer and I was a woman, but he was too frightened to try to harm me.
As the years passed, my neighbors asked why I didn't kill Fulabaso Akinye. Faced with the question, I just mysteriously demurred. For my part, silently, I wondered why they didn't rise up and kill him themselves.
It took me a long time to understand.
I saw an underclass, struggling against a criminal class. But that wasn't what they saw. They lived in a world of power and powerlessness. If they killed one landlord, another would take his place. Even if it was one of them, their burden would not be lifted. Only the strongest and most violent could rise to such power. So, they did not see the possibility of a better reality.
All they saw was the possibility of new overlords.
Somebody like Fulabaso Akinye was always going to be in charge.
But even so, I imagined something different. Adaku had been something different. As the years past, she had become an example to me. She was willing to stand up. And she had been willing to give everything for a naïve woman she didn't even know. I had known Adaku, however briefly, and so I still believed there could be a better reality.
I lived in their world. But I did not share their reality.
The boy grew. He took my last name as his own. He became Mobo Jones. I loved my boy, more than anything else in the world. But I saw something else in him. He had his mother in him. He had her kindness. I thought, perhaps, together, we could change this place.
Perhaps he could show his people another way.
I wrestled with that idea. Should we stay and try to fix the unfixable – living in the example of Adaku? Or should we leave, and should I repay some part of my debt to that woman by saving her son from this place?
When Mobo was twelve, I began to work on his papers. I made up a birthday, got him a birth certificate and worked my way through all the paperwork. And then, on his fourteenth birthday, I legally adopted him.
We could travel to the United States, when we wanted to.
We could return to Beacon Hill, when we wanted to.
We talked, debating which path was better. Mobo could understand my reality. He talked about it with others. But they saw no way to make it real. And so he saw no way to make it real.
Together, we decided to go.
I chose his seventeenth birthday (as recorded in his papers) as our date of departure.
I even bought the tickets, hiding them with our passports in the walls of my hut.
Our decision had been made.
But then, two days before our flight, he vanished.
I asked around and, reluctantly, my neighbors told me what had happened.
He had gone to Fulabaso.
And so, I am here. Outside the massive house of Fulabaso Akinye. I am watching the puddles jump as the violent Nigerian rap thunders through the bricks in the street. I am here because I have no other choice.
I remember that I'm supposed to have a drone watching me. I remember that I cannot be touched. And then I step up to the gate and push it open. There is no guard.
Nobody would threaten Fulabaso Akinye.
I enter the house, and I enter a bacchanal. There are men and young women. I recognize some of the women from the slum. I tell myself they are simply paying their tax to Fulabaso, but I know the reality is different.
These are men of power.
I wander through the room, watching the people pull away from me. They are confused about why I am there.
And then I see him. I see Mobo. He is sitting next to Fulabaso. And the older man's arm is over his shoulder – as if they are best friends. Mobo's face is directed downward, towards the neck of a bottle of beer. But I can see that he is smiling.
He is happy in this place.
Fulabaso looks up and sees me. I am the only white woman in the room.
He looks up, and he smiles. It is the first time I've seen him smile. It is the smile of a monster. It is the smile of ultimate victory and it shakes me to my core.
I draw closer to him, pushing away my fear.
I am untouchable, I tell myself in a repeating mantra.
And then a moment later, the music stops.
The room is suddenly completely silent.
The whole crowd turns to Fulabaso. And then, in a powerful and steady voice, he speaks. His accent his thick and his delivery slow. But he speaks in English.
I imagine he has been practicing that sentence for months. But that is little comfort. There is nothing I can do.
In reality, I have no drone.
I turn away and I leave. I am dejected and destroyed.
There is nothing left of Adaku and her kindness.
I hear Fulabaso laughing as I leave the room.
The music returns. The house shakes. And I return to my hut in the slum.
I dedicated my life to that boy. I dedicated my life to his mother. And he has betrayed me.
And everything has been lost.
Mobo comes home later. He apologizes. He insists, in a slurring voice, that he was forced by Fulabaso. He vows that it was not his choice. But I do not believe him.
We are leaving in one day and I do not believe him. I know he succumbed to the temptations of my enemy.
He sleeps that day, recovering from his night at the mansion.
And then he leaves again that night.
But I do not follow him. His path is one of destruction, not of hope.
I dream of gunfire and violence, and I sleep.
When the sun rises, so do I. I go out to buy breakfast, on my final day in this place. Perhaps Mobo will come with me, to Beacon Hill. Perhaps he will not.
But I know that even if he might physically accompany me, he will never again have my trust.
I am so absorbed in my thoughts that I do not realize something has changed. I do not realize my neighbors are smiling. I do not realize their fear has lifted. And I do not notice that the collectors are gone.
And then a woman stops me. I know her, she's a bit older than I am. She's a mother of three.
And she tells me what happened.
During the night, the women of the slum rose up. And they killed the collectors and they killed the landlords. And they killed Fulabaso. They eliminated not only the landlords, but their mistresses and their sons – the threats of the future.
They erased the evil from their lives. And they took the wealth of landlords as booty.
And then she explains that they rose up because of my boy. For years he had been talking about my reality. But he hadn't really believed in it himself. And then, that night, he had come to them. And he had said that the time for delay had ended. The time for action had arrived. It was time to see if another reality was possible.
That night, on his insistence, they attacked. And their assault was so unexpected that not a single woman died.
After all, nobody challenges Fulabaso Akinye.
Now, in this new day, they have something other than corruption.
In this new day, there is something more rewarding than survival.
In this new day, there is hope and there is freedom.
As she completes the story, the woman adds one thought.
His eyes are not bloodshot, but his hands are covered in blood.
I grab hold of him and I find rags and I wash him off.
And then we take our papers and our tickets and we walk from the slum, together.
Mobo Jones will visit to Beacon Hill, as we had planned.
But we will not stay there.
The blood of Adaku is soaked into the earth of Duomba.
But the work of Adaku – the bringer of fortune – has only just begun.
The great question of the Torah readings of Mattot-Masai is: How could G-d want the destruction of an entire people – including women and male children? And why would Moshe command such an attack?
As I see it, G-d wants to change a corrupt reality. He chooses our people as his vehicle. He chooses us because of the love of our forefathers and foremothers. We struggle and we resist, but eventually, we agree to His mission. And then, on the cusp of entering the land, and taking the next step in our growth, we betray Him. We fall for the very corruption He is challenging. Where we are to represent physical creation and the dedication of that creation to the divine relationship, but we are drawn instead to animalistic pleasure without holy purpose. We worship Ba'al Peor, the religion of exposure and the celebration of animalistic desires.
We fell prey to Fulabaso Akinye and his corruption.
We lost the trust of G-d. Our relationship was shattered. But Moshe was not willing to leave it broken. He acts to restore the relationship. In a legal sense, we claim Midian attacked us. And we demonstrate our claim, however outlandish, by acting against them. We violently thrust away those who would challenge our relationship to G-d. We act like Mobo, trying to demonstrate our fealty. And in the process, we act like the women of the slum, thrusting away a fundamental impediment to a better reality.
G-d can not attack Midian. Only we can. G-d can not change our culture and leave us free.
Only we can both change our reality and retain our humanity.
It is a lesson for our people. We cannot simply turn to G-d and expect Him to deliver a better reality.
We must act on our own and find His blessings on the road we create.
Our work is only beginning.
Postscript: Of course, the story of Midian is a tragedy. We only had a conflict with them because they were disgusted and frightened of us. In our reality, we must reach out to others so they can understand us and our goals before such conflicts can arise.
Such a brilliant mashaal to very strong message.
A fitting tribute to Rose whom we knew and respected.


Geology (2009) 37 (6): 507-510.
A significant contourite depositional system (CDS) on the continental slope of the southern Argentine margin is described here for the first time. This system contains both erosive and depositional features that have resulted from several factors, including topographic intensification of the Antarctic-sourced water masses, the systematic northward decrease in speed of these water masses, a northward increase of downslope sedimentary processes, and local tectonic influences. This system is an exceptional example of a CDS that started to develop at the time of the Eocene-Oligocene boundary, potentially coeval with the opening of the Drake Passage. However, a new margin morphology, characterized by a complex terraced slope lacking any continental rise, developed after a major paleoceanographic change in the middle to late Miocene. We infer that this change resulted from the extension of North Atlantic Deep Water circulation into the Southern Hemisphere and the deepening of Antarctic Bottom Water circulation in the Argentine Basin.
S50°00'00" - S38°00'00", W65°00'00" - W50°00'00"


Due to the nature of our products, we currently ship to only selected postcodes in the states of Penang, Perlis, Kedah and Perak. You will be able to check if delivery is available at your postcode when you go to the individual product page or during check out. If you are located outside of these selected postcodes and are interested to purchase with us, please give us a call at +604-397 8787 so we can connect with you to work out a delivery arrangement.
For products with ready stock status, the products will be delivered within 2-5 working days from the date of order unless otherwise stated. For products without ready stock, made to order products, or back-to-back order products, the products will be delivered within 2-4 weeks after the order has been placed unless otherwise stated. We will contact you to arrange the receiving of goods within 1-2 days before the dispatch. For urgent orders, please give us a call to confirm stock availability before placing your order.
We have the right to refuse or cancel your order and provide a refund at any given time without prior notice or explanation. We are able to inform you the specific date of delivery but will be unable to provide the exact time that our dispatch will reach your location. Installation service is included when you purchase our products.


text:
Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. An Exhibition at The Wellcome Collection (March 24th - August 31st 2011).
Author: Colin Sterling (UCL)
Sterling, C., (2012) "Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. An Exhibition at The Wellcome Collection (March 24th - August 31st 2011).", Papers from the Institute of Archaeology 21, 125-128. doi: https://doi.org/10.5334/pia.387
UCL Institute of Archaeology
Since opening in 2007 The Wellcome Collection in London has hosted a series of exhibitions that seek to challenge and assert the relationship between medicine, life and art. This overarching pursuit reflects the original vision of Sir Henry Wellcome (1853-1936), who amassed a vast cross cultural collection of objects, books and paintings related to medicine and health through the ages. A small part of this collection is displayed in Medicine Man, one of two permanent exhibitions housed within the original Wellcome Building, built to Sir Henry's specifications in 1932. The second permanent display, Medicine Now, explores the development of science and medicine since 1936, and incorporates artistic responses to key issues including the body, genomes and obesity.
Complementing these core themes has been a diverse series of temporary exhibitions. From dream states to crystallography, anatomical models to mind altering drugs, The Wellcome Collection has innovatively presented what can best be described as 'ideas' exhibitions, drawing together historic artefacts and artistic works to creatively interrogate varied cultural responses to the medical world. Their most recent exhibition continued this imaginative approach with a topic never far from the mind of the archaeologist: dirt.
Fig. 1: 'Monster Soup' (engraving) by William Heath (1928). Copyright Wellcome Library, London. Used with permission.
Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life tackled an ostensibly endless subject via six specific localities and six respective themes: Delft (The Home), London (The Street), Glasgow (The Hospital), Dresden (The Museum), New Delhi and Kolkata (The Community), and Staten Island (The Land). Broadly chronological, the exhibition began in 1683, the year Antonie van Leeuwenhoek wrote to the Royal Society to inform them of the 'little animals' he had observed in scrapings of 'batter' from his own teeth. The microbial world he discovered during 'enthusiastic investigations' of 'insects, blood, bones, sweat and rainwater' helped introduce the overarching framework of the exhibition, namely, the ongoing dialogue between dirt as an invisible threat to our wellbeing, and dirt as the visible and unwelcome remnant of human existence, whether biological or material. This relationship between the visible and the invisible, the public and the hidden, underscored the central theme of perception running throughout the exhibition, with large opening text claiming that: 'There is no such thing as absolute dirt: it exists in the eye of the beholder' (Douglas 1966: 2).
In the exhibition design the visitor's interpretation of filth was challenged from the outset. Hanging directly in the path of anyone entering the space was a window cast from dirt, by artist James Croak. The abrupt visceral impact of this sculpture, thick and brown with accumulated dust and dirt, unsettled our usual response to a window. Something designed to bring light into our homes, or provide a visible link to the outside world, was here blocking the way, immediately forcing us to reconsider the status of dirt in our daily existence. Following this sensorial shock the exhibition took a more traditional approach to display, although always with a view to destabilising visitors' preconceived notions of dirt and its history. Using maps, objects, paintings, videos, books and photographs, each of the above locations was shown to have a particular relationship to dirt, a subject of universal significance but always dealt with via culturally specific responses. The exhibition invited the visitor to delve, like the archaeologist, into the detritus of each locality, sifting through the gathered cultural grime to reframe its history in filth. In 19th Century London the focus turned to the impact of cholera on the deprived population of the metropolis. Originally believed to spread through bad air, or 'miasma', physician John Snow undertook extensive research in the area around Broad Street in Soho to show that cholera was in fact spread through polluted water. His map, with its methodical recording of each death as a black rectangle, represents not just a turning point in our understanding of disease, but also in the visual expression of scientific concerns. Placed within a museum, the map can thus be viewed as much as a work of art as a valuable artefact of medical history.
This artistic undercurrent to the exhibition was ever-present, becoming explicit in the sculptures and commissions interlaced throughout the display. Santiago Serra's 5 Anthropometric Modules made from Human Faeces by the People of Sulabh International, India rested like giant megaliths on the exhibition floor, the kind of enigmatic monuments that archaeologists could study for generations, were their original meaning somehow lost. The fact that they are made entirely from shit merely provokes a strange fascination, not disgust, particularly when viewed in relation to Senthil Kumaran's 2007 photographs hung nearby depicting scavengers in the latrines of New Delhi and Kolkata. In contrast to the impersonal sculptures these images triggered an immediate reaction. So easily passed by in the exhibition narrative, they were among the most disturbing pieces on show, presenting contemporary manifestations of an existence many would have considered consigned to history. Yet, as the exhibition text informed visitors, recent figures indicate that over one million people in India still clear human waste by hand from dry toilets for a living.
The lack of odour emanating from either these images or the sculpture highlighted one of the fundamental problems of an exhibition of this type. Dirt is a multisensory experience, and the focus on the visual in the traditional museum space negates the very real power of other physical interactions, particularly smell. This is not to suggest that a 'scratch and sniff' approach would have aided the story of dirt, but to fully comprehend the multitude of perceptions to a subject as wide ranging as this, one must begin to explore beyond the 'eye' of the beholder.
What of the archaeological perception of dirt? That the job of the archaeologist is a dirty one is almost intrinsic to the discipline. The popular image of the archaeologist is of a dirt splattered individual waist-high in a trench scratching at the surface of the earth for the morsels hidden within. Once excavated, these artefacts are methodically washed and sorted - given value by their new found cleanliness. One could even argue that it is the role of the archaeologist to transform the dirty, through a process of sanitisation and knowledge creation, into culture - although of course dirt left on an object can also provide a very powerful association with authenticity and antiquity - hence the 'distressing' of forgeries and replicas.
In recognition of the close relationship between dirt and archaeology, The Wellcome Collection hosted a day of events on the hidden history of London. 'Dirty Old Town' included a walk along the foreshore of the Thames and a family workshop explaining how the ancient life of the city might be explored through its material remnants. The popularity of such events highlights the ambiguity felt towards dirt and discarded objects. Left long enough, the most mundane unwanted items can become fascinating and prized indicators of past lives.
While this process is most apparent in the unearthing of objects from prehistory or antiquity, since the 1970s work such as the Tucson Garbage Project has drawn attention to the effectiveness of utilising archaeological methods to investigate recent past, or even present, lives (Rathje and Murphy 1992). Such projects serve to highlight the unavoidable truth that 'all archaeologists root around in the remnants and offal of the past' (Shanks et al. 2004: 65). Perhaps it should therefore not have been surprising that the most explicitly archaeological section of Dirt examined the Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island, New York, once the world's largest municipal dump receiving around 29,000 tonnes of rubbish a day. Alongside the traditional material of the archaeologist (including Native American artefacts from the site) the exhibition asked visitors to question the relationship between human beings and their waste through a series of artworks undertaken by Mierle Laderman Ukeles, artist in residence for the New York Department of Sanitation since 1977. Her most recent project seeks to collect, record and display items donated by members of the public, important objects carefully chosen rather than absent-mindedly discarded, adding them to the site to 'definitively transform the meaning of this land by creating a continuous counter-layer 'kissing the surface' of valued, preserved, individual offerings' (Forde 2011: 3). By combining the treasured and the discarded, the dirty and the clean, Ukeles adds to and reformulates what Robert Nagle, in the exhibition catalogue, refers to as the 'immense, inadvertent museum' of Fresh Kills (2011: 198). Landfills are among the most inescapable and visible reminders of our dirt filled lives, but even at their most miniscule the things we sweep away, scrub off, wipe clean and generally attempt to eradicate can inadvertently provide a lasting repository of human activity. Even if 99% of archaeological material starts out as 'worthless dregs' (Shanks et al. 2004: 65), it is the archaeologists responsibility to recognise the potential value of this human detritus.
The Wellcome Collection exhibition undoubtedly achieved its aim of reframing my own perception of dirt - to the extent that during return visits I was almost disappointed to find that over the course of its run the displays had been cleaned. If the grime of visitors and the city outside had been left to collect, gradually layering the pristine white space of the museum, the narrative and tactics of the exhibition might have been made all the more powerful. A conservationist's nightmare perhaps, but in this way we might begin to fully understand the impossibility of avoiding dirt, and how the biological and material matter we leave behind in our daily lives, whether purposefully or by accident, is as much a part of our cultural make-up as the cleanliness to which we aspire.
Douglas, M 1966 Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concept of Pollution and Taboo. London and New York: Routledge.
Rathje, W and Murphy, C 1992 Rubbish! The Archaeology of Garbage. New York: Harper Collins.
Shanks, M, Platt, D and Rathje, W 2004 The Perfume of Garbage: Modernity and the Archaeological. Modernism/Modernity 11(1): 61-83, DOI: http://dx.doi.org/ 10.1353/mod.2004.0027.
Forde, K 2011 Introduction. In: Forde, K (ed.) Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. London: Profile Books, pp. 1-6.
Nagle, R 2011 The History and Future of Fresh Kills. In: Forde, K (ed.) Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. London: Profile Books. pp. 187-205.
HTML: 39fc64e418b5a8d38205666016a2323f
PDF: eeaff6d9af191416d95377bd0b6d91a9
Sterling, C. (2012) 'Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. An Exhibition at The Wellcome Collection (March 24th - August 31st 2011).', Papers from the Institute of Archaeology. 21(0) :125-128. doi: 10.5334/pia.387
Sterling, C. Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. An Exhibition at The Wellcome Collection (March 24th - August 31st 2011).. Papers from the Institute of Archaeology. 2012 5; 21(0) :125-128. doi: 10.5334/pia.387
Sterling, C. (2012, 5 8). Dirt: The Filthy Reality of Everyday Life. An Exhibition at The Wellcome Collection (March 24th - August 31st 2011).. Papers from the Institute of Archaeology 21(0) :125-128. doi: 10.5334/pia.387


text:
Q: How to fix "TypeError: 'UnboundField' object is not iterable" class RegistrationForm(FlaskForm):
    username = StringField('username', validators=[DataRequired(), Length(min=4, max=15)]
                           , render_kw={"placeholder": "Please enter username"})

    password = PasswordField('Password', validators=[DataRequired(), Length(min=12, max=25)],
                             render_kw={"placeholder": "Enter a password"})

    submit = SubmitField('Register')

    while True:
        if (any(char.islower() for char in password)
                and any(char.isupper() for char in password)
                and any(char.isdigit() for char in password)
                and any(char in punctuation for char in password)):

            print("Password is correct")

        else:
            print("Needs at least 1 upper and lowercase letter and 1 number and special character")
        break

    def validate_username(self, username):
        existing_user_username = User.query.filter_by(username=username.data).first()
        if existing_user_username:
            raise ValidationError(
                print('It seems there are two of you, make another one.'))

This is where I think my main problems are. I am trying to have my program check if a password has 1 upper, 1 lower, 1 digit, and 1 special character. But I can not find a way to fix that error. As well as when a username already exists, why it wont print my message to show that the username already exists. I didn't want to flood the thread so here is a github with all my current code I am working with if needed.
https://github.com/FasterJake/Flask-login-regis

A: Don't add the code to while True:
It's an infinite loop because it's always true
Add the code to validate_password method instead
class RegistrationForm(FlaskForm):
    username = StringField('username', validators=[DataRequired(), Length(min=4, max=15)]
                           , render_kw={"placeholder": "Please enter username"})

    password = PasswordField('Password', validators=[DataRequired(), Length(min=12, max=25)],
                             render_kw={"placeholder": "Enter a password"})

    submit = SubmitField('Register')

    def validate_password(form, field):
        password = field.data
        if (any(char.islower() for char in password)
                and any(char.isupper() for char in password)
                and any(char.isdigit() for char in password)
                and any(char in punctuation for char in password)):
            print("Password is correct")
            return True
        else:
            raise ValidationError(print("Needs at least 1 upper and lowercase letter and 1 number and special character"))

    def validate_username(self, username):
        existing_user_username = User.query.filter_by(username=username.data).first()
        if existing_user_username:
            raise ValidationError(
                print('It seems there are two of you, make another one.'))


For my train ride to Tokyo, I was issued with four identically sized tickets; one to take me down to Hakodate in the south of Hokkaido, one to bring me through the tunnel to Shin Aomori in Honshu and two for the Shinkansen bullet train to Tokyo. Standing in Shin Aomori station, I flexed the two card rectangles in my hand and wondered how the duplicate nature of this ride confirmation worked with the automatic ticket barriers. Presumably --I reasoned-- one ticket was a receipt or a seat reservation while the other would allow me to pass through the metal gates in full possession of my limbs. Experimentally, I inserted a likely looking ticket and stepped forward.
This outrageous act produced a squeal of red lights and the appearance of an attendant to see what the stupid foreigner had done stall their efficient system.
It transpired the required secret handshake involved inserting both tickets simultaneously, one on top of the other. To me, such an act should have resulted in a mechanical choking grind, the sound of shredding paper, and culmination with a flashing set of lights marked "DENIED" before ejection of what remained of both ticket and ticket owner. Instead, the machine sucked the paper through its body, stamped the bottom rectangle squarely across its front side and returned both in the exact position I had inserted them.
Unnerved, I plucked the tickets from the barrier exit and hastened onto the platform. The Shinkansen carriages have a luxury air to them, with ample leg room for even the most spidery of foreigners and power sockets to charge your laptop or cell phone. The seats are also the most upright contraptions I've ever seen in my life. Mercifully, they recline to allow a position more suited to non-cyborgs.
As its name suggests, the bullet train does not mess about. It had taken me 6 hours to travel the 260 miles from Sapporo to the top of Honshu. I did the remaining 450 miles to Tokyo in 3.
Since it was now dark and I was jealous of my neighbour's bento box, I took a nap in my reclined chair, lifting my head only to squint at the lights of Sendai as we made a brief stop.
Did I need a ticket to reach Shinjuku?
In the "no" corner, we had the fact I had been spat out inside the subway gate, still armed with one ticket, from which there was nothing to stop me taking a train of my choice. At least, not until I tried to get out the other side.
In the "yes" corner, there was the fact that the travel agent with whom I had booked this ticket seemed concerned regarding to which Tokyo station I wished to travel. Since we were battling with language, I told her Tokyo Station was fine and decided I'd easily work out a route to Shinjuku when I arrived. This confidence now seemed positively blaze.
Since it wasn't immediately obvious how to buy a ticket from inside the barrier, I decided to postpone the moment of reckoning until I reached Shinjuku. Then there would always be an fantastical option of jumping the ticket barrier altogether and trying to disappear in a crowd of black-haired Asians.
I walked across the station to the "chou line" and climbed up the stairs to the platform. The evening in Tokyo was its usual heaving self, and people pushed past each other to form lines ready for the next train. Over to one side of the platform, however, I noticed a crowd of people surrounding what looked like a ticket machine. This must be it! Those people were clearly all like me; they had magically found themselves on the other side of the ticket barrier without a ticket and were now trying to remedy this criminal act. I joined the queue and scanned the screen as I reached its front. According to the English guide, I could chose to travel to Shinjuku by 'semi-rapid' for 500 yen. I hesitated, decided it was better safe than sorry at this point in my journey, and bought the ticket.
The guard looked at my ticket and nodded. "だいじょうぶです。" It's OK.
Ha! Who needs a communication class?
After this promising statement, the guard beckoned and led me across to another guard who looked at my ticket, took it and then handed me back my 500 yen. I was then ushered onto the train.
....... OK, I need a communication class.
This didn't make the slightest bit of sense. The train set off and arrived in Shinjuku about fifteen minutes later. Feeling dazed and confused, I stepped out into the station and decided to try my second Shinkansen ticket in the barrier. If it squealed, at least someone would come and rescue me and for an arrest, I bet they had to take me through the barrier.
The ticket machine took my ticket. The gates swung open. I scuttled away into the Tokyo city. The night was still young and there were undoubtedly another 101 ways I could be confused before midnight.