When Dr. Fernando Garcia and Dr. David Vazquez discuss weight loss surgery with patients, they both take care to address the risks as well as the benefits of the procedure. This commitment to straight talk is what draws so many people to Tijuana Bariatrics.
We've discussed the safety and effectiveness of gastric sleeve surgery for major weight loss in the past, though we'd like to look at the issue of gastric sleeve surgery with regard to cancer. There are advantages when it comes to preventing cancer, though also a number of concerns when it comes to family history of stomach cancer.
The reasons for this increased risk are various. For one, increased body fat can produce high levels of estrogen and other sorts of hormones that are associated with various kinds of cancers. The increased insulin levels in the blood may also contribute to the development of cancer and tumors. This is just one of many reasons why people should consider achieving a more ideal weight in order to be healthier overall.
Can bariatric surgery reduce your risk of developing cancer?
Bariatric surgery helps reduce the risk of developing numerous kinds of cancers by causing rapid yet safe weight loss in patients. This weight loss is coupled with many other healthy lifestyle changes for patients, including increased exercise and healthier diet.
In addition to reducing the risk of cancer, gastric sleeve surgery has been known to help prevent or reduce the risk of heart disease, hypertension, joint problems, and strokes. Some studies have shown that gastric sleeve surgery has been able to cure diabetes in some patients.
What if stomach cancer runs in my family?
Since gastric sleeve surgery involves the resizing and alteration of the stomach, a number of patients whose families have a history of stomach cancer wonder if the procedure is right for them.
We can assess your risk for developing stomach cancer as part of the consultation process and determine if gastric sleeve will be ideal for you and your situation. If the genetic risk of stomach cancer is high, then alternatives to gastric sleeve or bariatric surgery in general can be discussed during the consultation process.
What happens if I had a gastric sleeve but develop stomach cancer?
If a gastric sleeve patient does develop stomach cancer in the future, the most common treatment will be the removal of the stomach and the creation of a small roux limb at the end of the esophagus. This process would be similar to a gastric bypass in a number of ways.
For more information about gastric sleeve surgery and how it can help you be as healthy as possible, it's important that you contact our bariatric surgery center today. Dr. Fernando Garcia and Dr. David Vazquez look forward to answering all of your questions and addressing all of your concerns about overall health and wellness.


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The Link Between Wound Healing and Genetics
Do Your Wounds Take Forever to Heal? Your Genes Could Be the Reason
Road rash happens. A new study suggests your genes could influence how fast or slow your scrapes heal.
By Elizabeth Millard Published: Jul 9, 2020
ALAIN JOCARD//Getty Images
According to a new study published in PLOS Pathogens, your genetics may impact how fast or slow your cuts and scrapes heal.
While you can't change your genes, you can do a few things on your own to help speed up the healing process of your wounds: Get enough sleep and eat a nutritious diet.
Maybe you take a spill while you're out riding on the road and come away with scraped knees, and on that same day, a fellow cyclist goes down while mountain biking. Days later, your friend only has minor evidence of the incident, while your scrapes still look fresh. Is it the difference between dirt and pavement?
The more likely answer is that the difference could be related to genetics, according to new research.
The study, published in PLOS Pathogens, found that genetic variability across 164 patients influences the composition of wounds and how they heal. Specifically, the forms of bacteria present in wounds have a genetic component that could make it easier to identify who would struggle with slower wound healing.
Researchers found that genetic variation in two genes, TLN2 and ZNF521, was associated with both the number of bacteria in wounds and the prevalence of common pathogens that causes slower healing.
It's important to note that the study was done on chronic wounds, which don't heal under a normal timeframe, according to lead study author Caleb Phillips, Ph.D., assistant professor of biological sciences and curator of genetic resources at Texas Tech University.
About two percent of Americans are afflicted with these kind of wounds, and they can be costly and frustrating to treat. Finding a genetic link like this could be a first step toward creating prevention strategies or developing new treatments, he told Runner's World. It could also be used to identify patients who need to receive more aggressive therapy early on in wound care, rather than waiting weeks for the body's healing process to kick in.
The Right Way to Treat Road Rash
[Gravel! prepares you with everything you need to know to crush it, including the best gear, how to train, and much more!]
You can't swap out your genes to help speed up the healing of your wounds. But there actually are some tactics that may cut down on healing time, previous research has found.
For example, get more sleep. A 2018 study in Journal of Applied Physiology that measured immune response and "skin barrier restoration" on people with minor blisters found that those who had restricted sleep showed slower wound healing than those who got adequate shuteye.
Good nutrition also plays a part, and research done on older people with chronic wound issues, which was published in Advanced Wound Care, found that common micronutrient deficiencies—particularly vitamin D, zinc, and B12—could have a significant impact on wound healing.
Lifestyle changes like those mentioned above might not counteract genetic differences completely, but they may speed up healing to some degree, and also provide all the other benefits of quality sleep and good nutrition.
Elizabeth Millard is a freelance writer focusing on health, wellness, fitness, and food.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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Florida Atlantic vs. Western Kentucky Odds, Picks | College Basketball Betting Guide (Monday, Jan. 16)
Pictured: Alijah Martin (15) of the Florida Atlantic Owls. (Photo by David Jensen/Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)
Keg .
Florida Atlantic puts the second-longest winning streak in the nation on the line on Monday against Western Kentucky.
The Hilltoppers haven't lived up to expectations this season, even with an immensely talented lineup.
Keg breaks down the matchup and provides a best bet.
Florida Atlantic vs. Western Kentucky Odds
ESPNU
Florida Atlantic Odds
Western Kentucky Odds
The Florida Atlantic Owls will look to extend the nation's second longest winning streak on Monday night. FAU remains undefeated in Conference USA play after holding off North Texas on Saturday, beating the Mean Green for the second time this season.
Western Kentucky has surged after starting 0-3 in conference play, making its way back to .500 with wins over UTSA, UAB and FIU.
The Owls have been on another level this season, but E.A. Diddle Arena has historically been a tough place for the Owls. FAU is 7-17 against the Hilltoppers, and just 3-9 on the road.
How will things shake out this time? Let's look at the odds and make a betting prediction.
No one has been better than the Owls when it comes to limiting turnovers in conference play. Florida Atlantic gives up the ball on just 16.8% of its possessions.
And while the Owls haven't been particularly great from 3-point range — shooting just 32.9% — they are taking more 3's than anyone else in the conference. That could bode well against a WKU defense allowing teams to shoot 37.3%.
On the defensive side of the ball, the Owls will give WKU one of its toughest tests of the season at the rim. Florida Atlantic is tops in Conference USA when it comes to defending shots at the rim, holding teams to just 50% shooting. If Dayvion Mcknight can't drive to the basket and cash in at a consistent rate, it could very easily cost the Hilltoppers this game.
With Rick Stansbury out due to health concerns, interim head coach Phil Cunningham and the Hilltoppers have stepped up in a big way. In their most recent game against FIU, four different Hilltoppers scored in double figures. However, WKU was without Emmanuel Akot, who missed the game with a head injury. If he's still out against FAU, that could be a major problem.
Akot has averaged 11.3 points and 2.8 assist per game. Khristian Lander stepped up in a big way against FIU, but the Owls are a much tougher test.
Since conference play began, the Hilltoppers offense has taken a bit of dip and ranks just eighth in the conference in effective field goal percentage. Western Kentucky has also been much less effective from 3-point range, shooting just 36.7%, compared to 39.7% in non-conference play. But that could change against an FAU team allowing conference opponents to cash in on 39.6% 3-point attempts.
On defense, WKU has surprisingly struggled off the glass, ranking ninth in the conference when it comes to offensive rebound percentage and offensive rebound percentage allowed. That could cost the Hilltoppers severely as the Owls are averaging 12 second-chance points per game.
Florida Atlantic vs. Western Kentucky Betting Pick
Western Kentucky has historically been great at home, but this season has been a different story. I think what we've seen recently will continue against an Owls team that seems to have everything going its way as of late.
Florida Atlantic's defense should be able make an impact against an already struggling Western Kentucky offense and come away with the win in a hostile road environment.
Back the Owls as high as a 5-point favorite over the Hilltoppers.
Pick: Florida Atlantic -5 or Better
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In the Talmud, a mother nursing her baby is advised to begin feeding on her left side, to be closer to her heart. There is no doubt that breastfeeding is not only recommended in the Jewish tradition, but is regularly practiced by Jewish families thanks to many references to breastfeeding in Jewish texts going as far back as a weaning party for the biblical patriarch Isaac and baby Moses nursing from a Jewish nursemaid who happened to be his own mother, Yocheved.
Fast-forward to contemporary times and while study after study shows that breast milk is the perfect food for babies, helping with everything from building their immune systems to making them smarter, the concerns around breastfeeding are many and it and can seem like a fraught decision. How will the mother be able to maintain a breastfeeding relationship while possibly working, running a household, and caring for the new baby and herself, not to mention feeling comfortable breastfeeding or pumping wherever she is?
As a side-note unique to our community, breastfeeding in Jewish spaces continues to elicit debate. Rabbi Maya Resnikoff began a simple website called Nursing at Shul as a repository of reviews of synagogues' friendliness to breastfeeding mothers. Rabbi Ysoscher Katz of Yeshiva Chovevei Torah writes that "The practice of women who are nursing taking their babies to synagogue is a new development. While not the habit of our ancestral mothers and fathers, our rabbis saw such a practice in a good and positive light. According to the opinion of some later commentaries, it is not merely permissible to bring young children and nursing babies to the synagogue, it is also a mitzvah." Also interesting: breast milk is not considered dairy and can be thought of as pareve.
While many healthcare professionals (including my own) assert that whether or not foods can really boost breast milk supply is anecdotal and effectiveness varies from woman to woman, many women believe that what a nursing mother eats can have an impact on the milk she produces, both quantity and quality.
"One of the more interesting facts is that breastfed babies tend to be better eaters, noted famed lactation consultant Freda Rosenfeld. "The reason is that flavors and smells of the food that the mom eats are very faintly in the milk. Babies get to subtly smell and taste varying 'foods' through the milk which help broaden their taste buds." Rosenfeld recommends nursing women eat almonds and whole grains high in B vitamins such as oatmeal and barley.
In her new guide to nourishing the nursing mother, Boost Your Breast Milk, Alicia Simpson, a registered dietician and lactation consultant, discusses the role of the foods new mothers eat and drink. Simpson delves into what to eat and what to avoid in the months or even years that a woman breastfeeds, discussing the virtues of both health-sustaining superfoods and milk-boosting lactogenics.
The superfoods Simpson writes about "have been used for centuries all around the world to nourish nursing mothers and contain a nutrient-rich mix of healthy fats, vitamins, minerals, phytonutrients, and antioxidents that are ideal for the breastfeeding mother."
In honor of World Breastfeeding Month, we salute those mothers who are making the effort to breastfeed their babies (with no judgement towards those who aren't), and hope these tips and recipes can help with the process.


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Movie Review – The Discoverers
Director: Justin Schwarz
Starring: Griffin Dunne, Madeleine Martin, David Rasche
Little Miss Sunshine was a film that caught me off guard with its perfection. It took the classic road trip story to a higher level and painted a picture of a family in crisis as well as any film had ever done before. It was funny, heart-felt, real, sad, and ultimately uplifting; everything that The Discoverers aspired to be. The latter could be considered an indie version of the former, or at least the comparison wouldn't leave my mind once I thought about it, and I couldn't help feeling a little let down that this family walked instead of driving a VW bus. The two films share a lot of the same story elements, a few of the same character types, and a general feel that permeates the plot. But where Little Miss Sunshine stuns, The Discoverers droops, proving to be a mediocre reboot of a story that we've seen before and will see again.
Lewis Birch is a man who has failed at life. He used to be a respected professor, used to be married, and used to have a promising career as a novelist. But now he's got nothing. He's a teacher at a tiny college, his wife is off with her new rich beau, his kids are distant, his apartment sucks, and his latest book in an unwanted 6000 pages long. One last chance remains; a conference in Oregon where someone might pick up Lewis' book and make him a success again. So he & his children set out on a road trip under the guise of a vacation. However, when his mother suddenly dies, a detour is in order, one that might be longer than expected. Lewis' grieving father escapes reality by going on a discovery hike in the woods with history re-enactors, something Lewis was forced to participate in as a child. So now he's walking through the forest with his dad one more time, when he'd rather be doing anything but.
There are just so many elements that remind me of Little Miss Sunshine, unfortunately so since that movie is so much better than this one. The road trip, the father with a pipe dream, the dysfunctional children, the death of a parent, even the oddity of the journey itself. Instead of a beauty pageant, this film features Lewis & Clark enthusiasts reliving the historic pair's expedition to the Pacific Ocean. Pretty weird, and probably the best part of the story. Forced to dress up in period garb, the family must fit in to help out Grandpa; funny stuff made more so by its juxtaposition with the heavy nature of the base plot. But the rest failed to support what is a good idea on paper. The acting was only OK, the dialogue wasn't impressive, and the pace led to more than one dull moment where I felt myself drifting away from what was supposed to be grabbing my attention. The Discoverers is only good, taking a cool premise and failing to lift it to any special level.
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Founded in 1870 as a private company, and gaining in favor under the Japanese rule until the Great Oriental War, the Korean National Rail Company was re-instated in 1950, following the war, initially as the Railroad Administration Bureau, and later changing name to the Korean Rail Company, a state run entity. KTX (Korean Train Express) is the newest iteration of the same company, changing its name to match the new focus given by the FastRail-2020 Program.
Increasing transit speeds to 200-220 mpph (300-326 kmh) on HSR lines.
Producing Corea-domestic rolling stock to rival Japan's longer trains.
Enable 90% of all citizens to reach Kieñseñ in 90 minutes, and all areas of the nation within 2.5 hours.
Enable 75% of all citizens to be able to reach Japan within 3 hours, Quiòto within 4.
Initial efforts identified likely candidates for new High Speed Rail lines, and began construction efforts on them. Efforts are also underway to increase speed on the other, existing lines to increase line-speed, and reduce and remove non-high speed segments in all locations possible.
MP Hoñ Ki-bum of Mokhpho was quoted as wondering why it took Corea so very long to adopt what is ubiquitous in Yamato, a place that is a very frequent destination for most Coreans these days.
Gieñbu High Speed Railway takes its name from the original Gieñbu line, which ran from Kieñseñ to Pusan. It was the first to be electrified, and the first to be upgraded to handle the KTX Xiñcansen trains. This line is almost continually being upgraded to allow faster and faster connections with Quiòto from Kieñseñ.
Honam High Speed Railway was the second line brought up to speed, and is also experiencing continuing upgrades, as the stops along this spur have quickly become bedroom communities to Kieñseñ.
The Suse-AREX High Speed Railway began as a private venture to allow direct connection to the Gimpho and Inchhen aerodromes from the affluent Gañnam area of Kieñseñ. It was spearheaded by a number of the movie studios of the area, to allow their stars to return to their homes in Gañnam-do with minimal security concerns.
With financial crises, this line was sold to Korail, now KTX, and the line has been extended, first to the southern hub of Osoñ.
With the success of Suse-AREX I, the line was branched northward to allow connection to the northern reaches of the country, shortening travel time for those north and east of Uensan. This line began construction in 2010, and is expected to complete in 2020. It is part of the FastRail-2020 program.
Osiei High Speed Railway is designed to connect the capital with the central southern coast. In a bid to offer more control over the budding space industry to Coreans, and to further industry within Corea, under the FastRail-2020 program, the line is having a spur created to Gohyuñ.
Kieñan High Speed Railway is the mainline connecting Riugioñ, Anju, and points north with the capital.
Riuson High Speed Railway was developed as the primary connector to the far north-east.
Jindoñ High Speed Railway is the HSR most recently completed. Traffic flows from Osoñ, but the official terminus is Doñdaigu and connects to Jinju in the far south. The success of this line has lead to its inclusion in FastRail-2020. This line will now have extension from Mokhpho in the west with continuing links to Doñdaigu and Kieñseñ on the east, but with an additional connection through Guphho to Busan. This will also provide an alternate route for the Gieñbu line, should there be a need.
Kieñgañ High Speed Railway is the mainline connecting Gañnyñ with the capital. It is currently under construction. It is part of the FastRail-2020 program.
Siñuen High Speed Railway is a coastal railway designed to serve the East Coast with high speed rail, and connect with the northern Riuson line, allowing faster connections with the far north to Busan. It is part of the FastRail-2020 program. It is currently under construction.
Doñchhun High Speed Railway is part of FastRail-2020. It will use some existing lines, but follow the central mountain highway and serve as a rail backbone connecting the capital with Busan. It is currently under construction. Due to its location, it is expected that much of the traffic on the Doñchhun line will be freight. Because of this, plans are already afoot to widen the right-of-way to allow for 4 high-speed lines, two dedicated to freight and two to passenger rail. To ease wear and tear on the lines, the rail traffic will be rotated across the lines.
This page was last modified on 16 October 2017, at 13:31.


The Corporations Act (Manitoba) allows the directors of non-profit or charitable organizations to pass by-laws governing internal procedures and corporate structures. Many organizations take the initial step of incorporation but fail to implement by-laws. The following are a few of the areas and issues that by-laws should cover.
Well drafted by-laws provide for the necessary notice periods for meetings of the board of directors and members. Notice requirements should be kept to the statutory minimum to ensure flexibility and so that the Board can meet on short notice if there is an urgent need. The Corporations Act (Manitoba) requires that member meetings be held at least once a year but directors should meet more often. The by-laws should also state how notice needs to be given, whether by registered mail, regular mail, or email.
Quorum is the minimum required amount of directors or members at a meeting for any business to be conducted. The numbers should be low enough to be achievable but high enough so that a minority cannot commandeer meetings. Normally the members or directors are required to be physically present, but the by-laws can permit them to attend by teleconference or videoconferencing (such as Skype© or Face Time©).
The by-laws should also include a procedure for removal of directors. The need to remove a director can arise when a director files for bankruptcy, loses capacity, or refuses to cooperate with the rest of the board. By-laws that provide for a mechanism for removal of directors can allow an organization to remove problem members or directors so the organization can move ahead.
By-laws should not include a reference to the financial year end. Any changes to the by-laws require a vote by members. If the financial year end is referenced in the by-laws, it should be written as such that directors can change it by resolution.
If the organization wants to expand or has a broad base of support, one way to help keep its supporters involved is to allow them to be members who then elect the board of directors. This can help the organization to get outside perspective and ideas to help achieve its goals. Well drafted by-laws will have a mechanism that permits new members to be added to the organization and state the requirements for the membership as well as a mechanism for removing members.
These are just a few of the areas that can be addressed by by-laws for non-profit or charitable organizations. If you are a director of a non-profit or charitable organization, or plan to start one, please contact our office for more information.
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by Platz, Theodore A; Platz, Theodore A; Fitch, Thomas P.
Edition: 2nd ed. Publisher: Hauppauge, N.Y. : Barron's Educational Series, c2001Online Access: Publisher description Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 1601 .P63 2001] (1).
Publisher: Hoboken, N.J. : Wiley, c2008Online Access: Publisher description | Table of contents only | Contributor biographical information Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 2491 .D55 2008] (1).
Publisher: Mason, Ohio : Thomson/South-Western, c2006Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 221 .T3986 2006] (1).
Edition: 4th ed. Publisher: Boston, Mass. : Addison-Wesley, c2003Other title: Financial markets and institutions.Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 181 .M558 2003] (1).
Publisher: Paris, France : Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, c2001Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3769 .A7854 .I57 2001] (4).
Edition: 3rd ed. Publisher: New York : McGraw-Hill, c1984Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 221 .L882 1984] (1).
Publisher: Amherst, N.Y. : Prometheus Books, 2003Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 230.3 .M357 2003] (4).
Edition: 5th ed. Publisher: Boston : Addison Wesley, c2006Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 181 .M558 2006] (1).
Edition: 5th ed. Publisher: Hauppauge, NY : Barron's, 2006Online Access: Publisher description Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [ HG 151 .F57 2006] (1).
Edition: 7th ed. Publisher: Washington, D.C. : American Bankers Association, c2001Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 2461 .C64 2001] (1).
by Collin, P. H. (Peter Hodgson).
Edition: Fully updated 3rd ed. Publisher: London : A & C Black, c2005Other title: Banking and finance.Online Access: Connect to MyiLibrary resource Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 151 2005] (1).
by Barkai, Haim; Liviatan, Nissan.
Publisher: Oxford ; New York : Oxford University Press, 2007Online Access: Table of contents only Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3260.A7 .B40 2007] (2).
by The Banks Association of Turkey.
Edition: Publication No: 277, May 2011 Publisher: Istanbul ; The Banks Association of Turkey, 2010Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3256.5 .A6 .B2010] (1).
Edition: 5th ed. Publisher: Reading, Mass. : Addison-Wesley, c1998Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 173 .M632 1998] (1).
Edition: Second Edition Publisher: London : A & C Black Publishers Ltd, c1997Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3368 .A6 .M37 1997] (1).
Publisher: United Kingdom : Peter Colling Publishing LTD, c1997Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3368 .A6 .G3 1997] (1).
Edition: 9th ed. Publisher: Mason, OH : Thomson/South-Western, c2008Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 3881 .M2765 2008] (1).
Publisher: London : Prentice Hall, 2006Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 1601 .C37 2006] (4).
Edition: 8th ed. Publisher: Boston : Pearson/Addison Wesley, c2006Online Access: Table of contents only Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 173 .M632 2007] (4).
by Howells, P. G. A; Bain, K.
Edition: 3rd ed. Publisher: Harlow, England ; New York : Prentice Hall/Financial Times, 2005Availability: Items available for loan: Epoka University Library [HG 925 .H695 2005] (1).


Albany, N.Y. – The Spartans ran into a potent Sage Colleges' women's volleyball team on Wednesday night, falling to the Gators in straight sets at Kahl Gym.
Sage topped Castleton 25-16, 25-14, 25-17 and in doing so extended its unbeaten streak to 12. Sage improved to 15-4 on the year, while Castleton dropped to 4-9 with the loss.
Castleton senior Kaylee Pratt had eight kills for the Spartans, while sophomore Brittany Brayman added 11 digs and had three kills. Junior outside hitter Amanda Chambers had three kills, two aces and had nine digs while Michaela Babineu had six assists and three digs.
Helen Putriment posted a double-double for the Gators with 12 kills and 15 digs, while adding an ace. Rachel Martin connected for 12 kills, while sophomore outside hitter Siena Wilder racked up six aces and five digs, while being perfect with her 11 receptions with no errors. Sophomore setter Rachel Liebeg led the Gators with 30 assists and also had six aces.
The Spartans return to action this weekend when they open conference play at Colby-Sawyer, with matches against Husson and Maine Maritime.


seth's baby momma is destiny.... Wrote: ------------------------------------------------------- > Seth Comstock's Biography The E! True Hollywood > Story > > my fairfax sources just let me know that seth > comstocks baby momma is a black woman named > destiny.. and we know that seth comstock and andy > fernandez used to be best friends.. and andy > fernandez also was with/dating the black woman > named destiny... and that was what caused the > ending of andy fernandez's and seth comstocks > friendship.. they had there fallout due to seth > and andy both being with destiny.. sadly comstock > was the one who ended up getting destiny pregnant > thus having a kid with black destiny.. my sources > tell me comstock got violent and crazy on both his > mixed baby child and destiny as well.. and > comstock told us that the mormons took his mixed > child and destiny away from seth comstock.. to > this day comstock yet to have spoken to his mixed > daughter that he had due to getting black destiny > pregnant.. i feel bad for comstock.. why did > that black destiny have a kid with seth .. wasnt > there early warning signs that comstock was a > wackjob borderline psychopath?!cmon destiny! its > 50% your fault too!


Dream and Inspire, some words for us all to live by. This quatrefoil shape is bordered with a rope detail and will add texture and interest to any bracelet. Set Swarovski Crystals accents are at each corner.


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Baldinini is an Italy-based brand specialising in luxury shoes in the manufacturing district of Rubicone province of Forlì-Cesena, Italy.

History
The company began in 1910, in the town of San Mauro Pascoli, which is recognised around the world  for its high-quality footwear companies. In the 1970s, Gimmi Baldinini entered the company. The company has 100 Baldinini stores around the world and employs 250 workers.

In 2001, the group MBFG through its subsidiary Antichi Pellettieri acquired 50% of the company.

In 2007, the company signed with Facco Corporation a contract for the production and commercial distribution of branded jewelry Baldinini.

In 2009, on the occasion of the 120th anniversary of the Eiffel Tower, Baldinini created a feminine sandal that follows the design of Parisian architecture, with a golden platform cage and a vertiginous spire heel, covered in black silk velvet.

In 2015, Baldinini and Mafrat together signed a line dedicated to clothing for children aged 3 to 16 under the supervision of Brand Connection S.r.l., called "Baldinini Young".

In 2016, Baldinini signs a contract with the Visconti maison of Florence for the creation of a collection of pens signed by Baldinini.

The company archive consists of about 3000 pairs of shoes. In collaboration with the University of Bologna, Gimmi Baldinini plans to transform his company assets into a business museum.

See also
 Stefano Bemer
 Bettanin & Venturi

References

Bibliography
 Silvia Martinenghi Baldinini Le scarpe a modo mio – Shoes my way  Artestampa

External links

Baldinini Website
Mariella Burani Site
Football & Soccer Boots

Clothing brands of Italy
Shoe companies of Italy
Clothing companies established in 1910
Italian companies established in 1910
Shoe brands
High fashion brands
Fashion accessory brands
Bags (fashion)
Leather manufacturers

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Come and join our new series to help set you up for success in the upcoming year.
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About us Faculty of Law Current Affairs Calendar Conferences, symposiums, lectures Archive Acting Together in Crime
Acting Together in Crime
Acting Together in Crime - European and International Aspects
Programme conference: Acting Together in Crime
International conference organized by the Department of Criminal Law and Criminology of the University of Groningen and the Groningen Centre for Law and Governance
Date 17 October 2014
Time 09:45-16:00
Location Van Swinderen Huys, Oude Boteringestraat 19, Groningen, The Netherlands
Criminal liability as it pertains to joint participation in criminal offences has been extensively discussed throughout the last decade in The Netherlands. Various judgments from the Supreme Court have addressed this criminal concept and have expanded the interpretation of this legal construct. As a result, the legal relationship between the Dutch concepts of 'joint perpetration' (medeplegen) and 'assistance to criminal offences' (medeplichtigheid) has changed.
This conference focusses on this trend in the light of five decisions rendered by the Dutch Supreme Court on joint perpetration and assistance to criminal offences. These are the following:
- HR 12 April 2005, ECLI:NL:HR:2005:AS2769
- HR 20 February 2007, ECLI:NL:HR:2007:AZ2105
- HR 12 December 2000, ECLI:NL:HR:2000:AA8966
- HR 22 March 2011, ECLI:NL:HR:2011:BO4471
- HR 9 March 2010, ECLI:NL:HR:2010:BJ7275
These cases and their outcomes will be discussed against the background of the law on participation in crime in Dutch, French, German, Austrian and Italian criminal law.
As this conference explores the legal evolution of participation in crime in The Netherlands, as well as addresses the various legal approaches implemented in the surrounding aforementioned countries, it is of interest to legal scholars, members of the judiciary, legislators and other legal practitioners.
Dr L.J.J. (Laura) Peters, postdoc research substantive criminal law at the University of Groningen (project coordinator)
Prof. C.I. (Caroline) Fournet, associate professor of criminal law and Rosalind Franklin Fellow at the University of Groningen (chair)
Prof. E. (Elies) van Sliedregt , professor of criminal law at VU University Amsterdam (international criminal law)
Prof. H.D. (Hein) Wolswijk, professor of criminal law at the University of Groningen (Dutch criminal law)
Dr T.P. (Tony) Marguery, LLM, assistant professor of European law at the University of Utrecht (French criminal law)
Dr A. (Attilio) Nisco, substantive criminal law fellow at the University of Bologna (Italian criminal law)
Dr J. (Johanna) Rinceanu, LLM, head of the section Romania at the Max Planck Institute for Foreign and International Criminal Law, lecturer at the University of Freiburg and criminal law attorney in Freiburg (German criminal law)
Dr C. (Christoph) Zehetgruber, lecturer at the Chair of criminal law and procedure at the University of Bayreuth (Austrian criminal law)
Admission to the conference is free of charge.
Everybody is invited to join for an informal conference dinner which will take place immediately after the drinks. The fee for the dinner will be 40 euros (two course buffet, coffee/tea and drinks included).
PO-punten: Advocaten ontvangen een verklaring van hun deelname. Hiermee kunt u eventueel bij uw beroepsorganisatie punten ontvangen.
Information & Registration
Dr Laura Peters: actingtogether rug.nl
Last modified: 28 May 2019 4.37 p.m.


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You are here: Home / Blog Nate Thayer / The Night I Lived: Excerpts from Sympathy for the Devil
The Night I Lived: Excerpts from Sympathy for the Devil
Landmines, War, and Journalism: One war reporter's close encounter with religion, death, and victory
(Copyright Nate Thayer. No reproduction or dissemination in whole or in part without express written permission of the author)
The new realities of journalism are that investigative journalism must seek independent financing after institutional support from media companies has largely evaporated. Those who practice investigative journalism rarely have institutional backing to fund the considerable costs, time and resources this genre of journalism requires. Investigative journalism is expensive, time consuming, requires resources, and is both vital and endangered.
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Here is one excerpt from Sympathy for the Devil: A Journalist's Memoir from Inside Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge.
By Nate Thayer
It was after midnight, before I was to be picked up before dawn by Thai military intelligence and escorted into Cambodia to accompany guerrillas on a mission to seize a Cambodian district capitol town.
It was monsoon season. As always, I was carefully preparing my equipment. There was an art to fitting everything I might need into a light backpack with lots of pockets and readily accessible under pressure. There were separate Ziploc bags for different speed film, for each Nikon lens, my two Nikon camera bodies, a point and shoot camera (what we then called a "drunk proof" or "idiot camera"), for an extra pair of dry socks and other dry clothes, a small medical kit, notebooks, a flask of whiskey, a poncho, a hammock, extra pens, a carton of cigarettes to give away to grunts on the front line, tape recorder, extra batteries, and more. As always, I never knew how long I would be gone for or what I might encounter.
There was a knock on my door, and the manager of my small guesthouse where I lived in the Thai border town of Aranyaprathet, a young boy of 17, entered. Ghung, who I had taken under my wing in the previous months, knew I was going to leave in a few hours on what might be a dangerous assignment. Ghung was very concerned. I invited him into my spartan room and, with a very serious expression on his face, sat down. He opened his hands which clutched two Buddhist amulets.
"I want you to take these with you. Wear them around your neck. If you are respectful to them, they will protect you from danger," he said. The one on the left, pictured below, is an effigy of a dead baby fetus. He warned me that I should not be afraid if it talked aloud to me. The powerful one, he said, was that image, the Kuman Thong. "This will make sure you don't die", he said, if I treated it with a reverence.
Ghung clearly did. "Only wear it around your neck and don't be afraid. Sometimes it will talk to me."
Philip Blenkinsop photo
The Kuman Thong effigy is revered in rural Thailand and Cambodia by many Buddhists, but it is Animist, not a traditional Buddhist practice, more "black magic", or necromancy. Kuman Thong was created centuries ago by surgically removing the unborn fetus from the womb of its mother. The child's body was roasted accompanied by chants. original Thai Buddhist texts say making a Kuman Thong amulet requires removing the dead baby from the mother's womb, followed by a ritual of the baby cooked until dry. This process must be finished before dawn.
"Kuman Thong" means "Golden Baby Boy". They say if you have a good relationship with your Kuman Thong, you will not have very bad things happen to you.
Ghung's heartfelt gift had not gone through such an involved process, but it represented. to him, the same power. They are widely believed, in rural Thailand and Cambodia, to be very powerful, protecting one from danger, even bullets bouncing off of you.
Ghung was a very sweet and intelligent boy and we had become friends. I thanked him respectfully, because I knew he was very sincere and serious, but I didn't really believe him. But it was touching.
I wrapped the amulets in my traditional Cambodian scarf and wore them around my neck when I departed for the Cambodian jungle, before dawn broke, riding shotgun in an unmarked Thai military pickup truck.
We arrived at a secret Cambodian guerrilla base in the jungle just over the Thai border and hour later. The guerrillas were gathered, waiting for me, heavily armed and sporting a dozen brand new CIA supplied Yamaha 250CC dirt motorcycles. They also had a new, powerful, secret weapon that the government was unaware of which had been clandestinely delivered to their enemies in the days before.
We left the guerrilla base before dawn for an arduous trek through monsoon soaked ox cart paths that snaked through the jungle, led by the convoy of dirt bikes, one of which I was riding shotgun on. Advance teams of troops were ahead and more behind us.
The guerrillas had two new weapons; the German made Armbrust 69 mm shoulder fired one time use anti-tank weapon and the Swedish Carl Gustav 84 mm anti-tank weapon. For ten years, the government had tank superiority. For a decade, once the government tanks broached the front line positions, the guerrillas had no effective weapons to stop them. For years, the guerrilla commanders had offered a 50,000 Baht ($2000) reward to any soldier who could destroy a tank prior to that day. Their only weapon was a B-40 rocket propelled grenade launcher, designed to take out concrete bunkers,which required one to get within 20 meters of the tank, from behind, crouch and aim upwards and so it hit the undercarriage of the tank and took out the tracks to halt its advance. More often than not, the guerrilla would be killed attempting to do so, and if he was lucky enough to survive, it was likely he would be wounded by his own shrapnel backwash from firing the RPG from so close.
This time was different.
We entered the first government held town and immediately destroyed three tanks. The German and Swedish weapons, covertly supplied through Singapore, penetrated the tanks armor but the round would not explode until it was inside the tank, vaporizing the 3 or 4 man crew instantly. I took pictures of their incinerated, burnt corpses still sitting in the drivers seat and manning the tank turret gun, the twisted carcass of the feared armoured T-54 Soviet tank smoking and twisted and neutralized.
We captured that town within an hour.
The government troops fled in sheer terror, the psychological impact and confusion of knowing they no longer had tank superiority changed the face of the war that day.
Within two hours, the guerrilla soldiers, advancing without hesitation, had captured the district capitol of Thmar Puok.
My feet. Photo Blenkinsop
There, they destroyed 4 more tanks defending the perimeter of the sprawling city.
The guerrilla's had a celebratory lunch in the former Vietnamese military headquarters, the former sole school house in the city and the only concrete building. Graffiti spray painted on the inside walls read in Vietnamese Roman script: "Long Live the Communist Party of Vietnam!"
This was 30 kilometers from the Thai border, more than 500 miles from Vietnam.
It was the first district capitol seized by the guerrillas during the long 12-year war. Government troops, terrified young boys who didn't care a whit about politics and were conscripted like all troops on both sides of the war, surrendered by the hundreds, along with their Russian jeeps and transport trucks and weapons.
We drank lots of whiskey in the mid day sun. The people I was with were very happy. Other people, not so much.
For the civilians, none were happy. They were satisfied, like most Cambodian's, if they did not die, their daughter was not raped, their life possessions not looted, and their water buffalo not stolen. Peasant villagers in Cambodia knew that no army or government, regardless of ideology, actually had anything to offer to make their lives better. It was the faction that wreaked the least havoc, who took away the least from their already meager lives, which they would least detest.
It was a big story, I knew. I had very good pictures and an exclusive eyewitness account.
We toured the new liberated zone of dozens of villages with no electricity, schools, running water, or hope. This stretch of real estate, for a very, very long time, only knew war.
Then, after 12 hours, we began the return trip towards the sanctuaries of the rear Cambodian guerrilla military bases straddling the Thai Cambodian border, as dusk began to fall, west, towards the Dongruk mountain escarpment far away on the horizon marking the border.
The heavy, daily late afternoon monsoon rains had begun.
I was eager to file my story and pictures, which would be, at best, still many hours away. I still needed to cross out of the jungle, be transported back across the border to Thailand, and down 60 kilometers to the Thai border town of Aranyaprathet.
From there, I would call the Associated Press office in Bangkok and dictate my story by landline telephone.
Ghung, the sweet and cocky 17 year old boy, who had given me the Buddhist amulets late the night before, would each day, for months now, push the button on a stopwatch and time my calls and charge me by the minute as I read my dispatches over the phone to the AP Bangkok Bureau.
The undeveloped photographs, still on 35 mm film, would be given to the long distance bus driver of the commercial bus company which made a half a dozen trips through the day and night from Aranyaprathet to Bangkok. We would give him no money for fear he would then take the film and sell it to local Thai papers. In Bangkok, an AP messenger on motorcycle would be dispatched from the AP office and meet the bus at the bustling Moenchit bus terminal. There, they would exchange cash for film and he would return to the AP office, where the film would be souped and developed. A few pictures would be chosen and put on a roller and sent over telephone lines to Tokyo and New York. From there they would be transmitted to AP customers worldwide. To get story and pictures out from when they were taken to when they were seen and read could often be days.
But this day it didn't work out, as it really never did, as planned.
Photo of Russian Zil 2 1/2 ton military transport truck I was riding in after it drove over two Chinese anti-tank mines, in northwest Cambodia. I was sitting in the front seat of the vehicle captured hours earlier from government forces. Both soldiers sitting on either side of me were killed. I woke up in the engine compartment with a severed leg across my face. It wasn't mine. It was the driver's, now sitting a few yards in the mud holding the stump of his thigh and crying out for his mother. This pic was taken the following morning by soldiers who returned to retrieve the bodies of the dead we left behind to walk 7 miles carrying wounded to the nearest guerrilla base.
We began the motorcycle ride on our CIA dirt bikes through the uninhabited savannah and jungle, headed west towards Thailand. Bombs and gunfire were everywhere. This area had been under government control when dawn emerged earlier that day. It was, in reality, now under control of no one, but the government had fled. The guerrilla's had never been here before.
Then the motorcycle convoy of a dozen or so got separated. The dirt tracks were a meter deep in mud. We got separated. Then our motorcycle broke down. Dusk was rapidly approaching. One guerrilla stayed with me. We finally abandoned the motorcycle and began walking west towards the silhouette of the Dongruk Mountains still a dozen miles to the west. That was Thailand and that is where I wanted to be.
"Are there any landmines around here," I asked the young guerrilla grunt.
"No. No landmines," he replied
"Where are we," I asked.
"I don't know," he said.
What it feels like after not dying. Photo taken by Philip Blenkinsop several hours after two anti-tank mines destroyed the captured government truck I was riding, killing those seated on either side of me and leaving me with numerous injuries.
"Well, if you don't know where the fuck we are, how the fuck do you know there are no landmines? I asked, now tired, dehydrated, and hungry.
It had been 12 hours since we left the guerrilla base on motorcycles and seized a couple hundred square kilometers of territory. Many, many were dead. That didn't much bother me. I had not eaten all day. That didn't much bother me either. I was dehydrated. That made my mind fuzzy. But, mostly, I wanted to get my story and pictures, which I knew would be a minor scoop in the world news, out, safely.
We entered a thicker jungle and bushwhacked ourselves through by hand. We did not know where we were. It was now dark. There were no longer front-lines defined. No one knew what territory was now controlled by the enemy or friends. As far as I was concerned, there were no friends and there was no enemy. I only wanted my pictures and story to get out.
Then we heard the sounds of trucks idling ahead in the jungle.
This was a very frightening development.
The guerrilla's I was with—troops of the Khmer People's National Liberation Front, did not have any trucks.
We halted. We moved slowly through the light forest and peaked through the trees and foliage.
There, idling on an oxcart path, were two Soviet Zil camouflage military transport trucks with several Cambodians, in government military uniforms, carrying Soviet issue AK-47's.
My lone guerrilla companion turned to me, after a long period of silence, and said: "I think they have defected to us."
"What the fuck do you mean 'You think they have defected?" That is not fucking good enough! They either have defected or we are about to be dead or become prisoners of war." I was, honestly, ready to surrender if the latter was the case.
He had a look of fear and uncertainty in his eyes. That scared me even more.
"You wait here. I will go check," he instructed me, failing in his attempt to give the impression he was in control of the situation.
He tried to be quiet as he pushed aside the forest brush and not alarm the armed men in government uniform in government military trucks.
I waited, crouched, decidedly not comfortable in the savannah. My guerrilla guide returned with a smile on his face. The armed men and vehicles had, indeed, defected in the previous hours.
I was ecstatic. It was dark. We were lost. Our motorcycles had broken down and been abandoned. It was rainy and muddy and hot. I was hungry and we had no water. We were in territory under unclear control. Now we had a truck and we would be back in Thailand within an hour.
I emerged from the jungle and was greeted warmly although with the concomitant, quizzical look that is directed towards animals in a zoo.
There were about a dozen troops in the jungle clearing with two trucks. Some were guerrillas and some were freshly defected government troops. We all piled into one truck. The driver was a government soldier hours before. Now he was a guerrilla. Three of us were in the front seat, myself squeezed in the middle, between the driver and an impressive fat guerrilla officer. About a half dozen troops were in the open back carriage of the 2 ½ ton Russian military transport truck.
We were laughing and giddy as we slowly negotiated the mud soaked, deeply rutted ox cart path, headed west, towards Thailand. The dim silhouette of the Dongruk mountain escarpment still visible under the moonlight about ten miles to the west.
I remember being scrunched up tightly between the fat guerrilla commander and the skinny young boy government conscript, now a defector, in the driver's cabin of the Zil. I was sitting in the middle. I was in a very happy mood. I had great pictures and a great story and I was the only journalist there and I was now in a truck being driven towards a safe place where I could transmit them to the few interested around the world. I remember chatting to the driver, smiling and laughing. He was happy, too, mainly because he was not dead, a fact I am sure he was concerned about at the start of that day.
I loved this life.
We had been driving only a few minutes and then something–in an instant–terrible, something life altering, and for some, life extinguishing happened.
Another Photo of Russian Zil 2 1/2 ton military truck after it drove over Chinese anti-tank mines in northwest Cambodia killing many and wounding the rest of us who survived at night in the jungles near the Thai border
The sound was so profoundly loud that I could not hear it. My eardrums were blown out. The concussion of the explosion was so great my brain shut down. I remember the liquid in my body became so heated I could feel it simmering near boiling. I could hear my blood boiling, gurgling from what seemed like heat. I felt my brain being tossed around like a rag doll bouncing off the insides of the wall of my boned skull.
Our 2 ½ ton truck was thrown in the air several meters and, luckily, hit the side of a tree, and bounced back down, landing upright. Actually, I don't remember that part. I saw it, afterwards. It looked like a shredded child's toy Tonka truck.
We had driven over two Chinese anti-tank mines.
Specifically, our left front tire, which was less than 1 ½ meters from where I had been sitting.
This is very Cambodian. One does not need two anti-tank mines to blow up a tank. One will do. But, for good measure, just in case, the guerrillas had placed one on top of another. The mines were placed by the guerrilla's themselves. Because they had no vehicles—until that morning.
We had just driven over our own landmines.
I don't know how long I was unconscious.
I do remember waking up that night, with clarity and vividness, that startles me in my sleep and jolts me awake, regularly, now many hundreds of nights and some days, to the present, years later, in a mixture of unspeakable fear and grief and confusion and sadness.
There was a severed leg lying across my face. I held the leg up and looked at it. It was not connected to a body.
I was in the remnants of the engine compartment of the truck, its tattered carcass spread meters across the muddy jungle ox cart path.
I needed to know whether it was my leg I was holding in my hand. But I was very scared to find out. I reached down and ran my hand over my left leg and it was still attached to me body. I did the same with my right leg. It, also, was still attached to my body.
I had no idea what happened. I looked around me.
A few feet away was the young Cambodian truck driver, moments before with whom I was laughing and smiling and chatting. Life, for both us, would be, from that moment on, very different. His would be much shorter than mine.
He was sitting up, with a look on his face of raw terror and amazement I will never, ever forget. He was holding tightly the stump of his thigh, eyes locked, fixed, wide open, staring at what was no longer there. He did not panic. He didn't seem in pain. He cried—no he moaned–loudly, but in words profoundly mournful.
He only called for his mother.
"Mother, please help me!" he repeated over and over and over and over.
I extricated myself from the engine and went over to him and held him in my arms. "You will be OK," I lied. "Everything will be fine."
For perhaps ten minutes, he called for his mother, staring in utter terror and horrid curiosity, his mind racing over, I suspect, his brief past, perhaps his never realized hopes, and his now very, very brief future, while grasping tightly the shredded stump of his muscle and bone and meat in his hands, the end of what was his leg, now within easy reach of his clutching hands.
And then he died on this irrelevant, muddy jungle dirt ox cart path, in the rain, at night, far from his mother. Probably, no one, other than the half dozen of us there that night who remained alive, to this day, knows how and where he died. He just never came home. There are millions of Cambodians whose loved ones simply never came home and they don't know why.
We left him, dead, on the dirt path, in the dark, alone. I am sure, no one amongst us even knew his name.
The man who was sitting to my right, the fat guerrilla commander, before the driver died, was angry.
He had taken shrapnel to his head. It penetrated his skull. There was a gaping hole on the side of his skull, above his ear, leaking increasing amounts of blood and other, whitish, grey coloured liguid, mixed with chunks of solids. It was his brains.
I remember him cursing the truck. He got up and he kicked the side of the truck with a ferocious boot and yelled and blamed the truck. Who else was there to blame?
Then he died, too, falling on the mud path, on his face.
We left his body there as well.
After I had fled in slow motion the dying, legless driver, another man, lying down, prostrate, who I thought was dead, bolted upright.
He jumped up and yanked his pants down and, terrified, grabbed hold of his cock and balls and inspected them to make sure they were intact.
That made sense to me and I immediately did the same. I later learned this is a common reaction to the freshly wounded in war.
I remember asking him: "What just happened?" I had no idea. I had no idea we had run over a landmine. I did not understand why, in the dark, and mud and rain there were people dying and suffering.
""We hit a landmine," he said, with no discernible emotion.
Then, strangely, I became obsessed with locating my film, my cameras, my notebook from the wreckage of the debris of the truck and human carnage littering this irrelevant jungle patch, which, really, was of importance to no one, save those of us who died, or didn't die, there that night.
I became obsessed and started sifting through the metal and mud, in the dark and the rain, looking for them. I need to salvage a purpose, an excuse that I had a reason to be there. Two other surviving troops came over and helped me. We found my Nikons and lenses and film and small,little backpack next to the bodies and under the remains of the truck. They had survived unharmed. I was greatly relieved.
Most everyone that night was killed, but several of us were not. Two were severely wounded. We cut two tree branches and attached hammocks to them, and two guerrillas carried the badly wounded through the night, in the rain and dark, for three hour, for 7 miles, a silent, sad trek, everyone lost in their own thoughts, to the nearest guerrilla base.
There, 7 miles away, they had felt the earth shake from the explosion from the landmine that was planted under the dirt less than 2 meters from me that night.
We began a long silent, sad walk.
I didn't know that bones were sticking out of my leg until I stepped in a mud hole on that walk and a jolt of pain went from my leg to my brain. I didn't know that I had shrapnel in my head until I tasted blood dripping into my mouth and wiped my hand over my face and looked, in fear, as it was covered in bright crimson fresh liquid.
I didn't know I had permanent brain damage. Or that my ear drums were burst, or that my sternum was broken. Or that my liver was dislocated. And other stuff.
I just walked. Because we had no choice.
We arrived, hours later, at the guerrilla base. They knew we were coming. They piled us wounded into the back of a pickup truck and took us to a CIA funded guerrilla operating theatre in the jungle. It had a gas powered generator to provide electricity for an antiseptic operating room. There was an air conditioner in it. But we were put into an open air thatch roofed room. The loud din of a chorus of frogs croaking in celebration of the heavy monsoon rains, along with crickets, was soothing, but was so loud one had to speak louder to be heard.
A dozen or so soldiers, all on crutches, their freshly bandaged stumps of legs covered in bright red fresh blood, their legs and arms and some one or both of each, gathered and stared at us, the new arrivals to their new world.
I was placed on an elevated military cot. Next to me was the most badly wounded soldier. The kind eyed, French trained doctor spoke softly and touched and poked me, my badly wounded neighbor on the stretcher next to me, and one other severely wounded guerrilla.
Then two soldiers walked in with a chainsaw, headed towards me.
I had bones sticking out of my feet. I jumped up like an Olympiad on methamphetamines and screamed in at least three languages to get the fuck away from me. I was forcibly restrained and reassured that the chainsaw was not destined for me. It was for the man next to me in the stretcher. They were massaging his heart. His leg was attached by a few strands of ragged tendons to his torso. he was not conscious. The medics, who, in truth, only had training in amputating limbs, cranked it on and cut his leg off with no anesthesia, two feet from me. I stared emotionless at this. I was drained of any reserves of emotion by then.
I watched, in retrospect, with a calmness fueled and mitigated, I guess, by the context of the evil of that night. He died not so long afterwards.
They took me to the operating room. They took pieces of metal out of my legs, my torso, and my head. They sewed it up. They did their best.
Honestly, I felt very little pain, even then. I had just been blown up I then walked 7 miles with bones protruding from my foot, dozens of holes in my body, pieces of metal embedded in my head my torso, my legs, my feet. I had several broken bones. But in the coming days, for weeks, I would not be able to move from the pain.
Despite the unpleasantry of the previous hours, I was fixated, oddly, on one thing–to get my photographs and story to the Associated Press office in Bangkok. I knew then I could relax, my job done.
I repeatedly asked to be taken back the 60 kilometers to the Thai border town of Aranyaprathet. I needed—not wanted—I NEEDED—to file my pictures and story. In the darkest hours before dawn, I was driven by Thai military intelligence in an unmarked truck back to my hotel.
I was bandaged. I was confused. My whole body hurt by then.
My good friend, Philip Blenkinsop, the photographer, was staying in another room in the sparse ten room ground floor motel. I knocked on his door. It was before dawn.
He opened the door and stared silently for a few seconds. Philip, who I love dearly, didn't say "What happened to you? Are you OK?"
He said, and I won't forget these words: "Don't move, mate, Great pics. Let me get my kit."
I felt comforted, as if I was now home and out of danger and with my people. He took these, and other pics.
A long day just begun Photo Philip Blenkinsop
The young boy, Ghung, the 17 year old Thai hotel manager, came to the room a while later. He had a serene and loving look on his face. He looked me in the eyes and said 'I told you they would protect you."
Ghung knew he had saved my life that day. And I was pleased he believed he did. His black magic dead fetus was still wrapped around my neck.
Both he and I were very thankful and quite satisfied with the day, for different reasons.
Later the commander and chief of the guerrilla army came to my hotel room with a dozen roses. I liked this man. He smiled and chuckled and said: " I told them not to drive down that path" and he handed me the flowers.
But the memory since has never left me, and never will leave me with any sense of peace or conclusion. I am not sure this story can be adequately conveyed. But that is the best I can do, today, 22 years later.
Filed Under: Blog Nate Thayer, Cambodia, Freelance Journalism, Freelance Journalist, Freelance Photography, Nate Thayer, Nate Thayer blog, Sympathy for the Devil, War correspondent Tagged With: Cambodia, Freelance Journalism, Journalism, Nate Thayer, Nate Thayer blog, Sympathy for the Devil
patdunne says
Amazing story, Nate. I have to buy your book!
Philip Mackara Phan says
wow! very visually descriptive it's like i was watching "Vietnam" the war series on PBS. When your book comes out, it's going to be another hard to put down book. Can't wait.
Vivid, compelling and nuanced, esp in the depiction of the range of complex emotions experienced in a flash of time. The whole thing reads true, from the horror and compassion of comforting the driver, the droll observation about checking the family jewels, to your compulsion to get the story filed. Brilliant that Ghung gave you the bookends to the story and your friend was equally compelled to recognize and make the telling photos that augment your account.
Serge Corrieras says
Hi Nate, is your book translated in French?
humphrey hollins says
Bloody hell Nate, good story. Thank god for animism.
Smoked babies, part 3 | P.J.Coggan says:
[…] Nate Thayer was in a guest-house in Aranyaprathet (Thailand) on his way to interview Pol Pot in […]
Pol Pot's little girl grows up: Wedding of dictator's only child is divorce from childhood trauma
Lunching With Mass Murderers: Khmer Rouge leaders explain why they slaughtered their own people, and why it was, really, for the best: Excerpts from "Sympathy for the Devil" By Nate Thayer


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The Principles of Gorean Thought – Part III
This is part of the work on the Principles of Gorean Thought – A Primer
3) The Gorean Argument
3a) Men and women are not identical. In fact, the two sexes are almost completely different in every way. They look different, think different, act different, feel different, and respond to two completely different emotional response-systems. Each sex has its own preprogramed agenda, its own requirements for personal fulfilment, and its own methods of communicating. This difference between the two sexes has its roots in the basic biology of the human race, a biology which has been shaped through evolution to predispose each sex toward certain behavior and emotional conditions. According to Norman (and medical science), no single cell of a male's body is identical to any single cell of a female's body (except for small quantities of clear serum).
3b) Human males are biologically predisposed toward physical dominance over human females, who are, on the average, physically smaller and less strong than their male counterparts.
3c) The process of evolution has naturally selected for strong, competitive males and females who were both desirable to such men, and who were in turn attracted to such men.
3d) The vestiges of countless millennia of this selection process still exist within each of us, and we are all therefore subject to emotional needs and instinctive drives which our present society does not provide for.
3e) Since males and females all seem to be subject to certain drives and needs which were bred into them during a period of time when women were effectively within the physical power of men, doesn't it make sense that if that situation were recreated somehow, then the two sexes might attain a specific degree of fulfilment which would otherwise be denied to them? Wouldn't they then be accepting a part of their own inherent nature rather than denying it?
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Category: Writings by Marcus of AR
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text:
Q: Print 10 elements out of array If i have an array that I've used to create 50 random numbers, I then sort them numerically. Now lets say I wanted to print out the 10 biggest number (elements 40 to 50) I could say:
print($array[40]) print($array[41]) print($array[42]) etc etc.
But is there a neater way to it? Hope I'm making myself clear.
Cheers

A: You could loop over the indexes.
say $array[$_] for 40..49;

Offsets from the end make more sense here.
say $array[$_] for -10..-1;

You could also use an array slice.
say for @array[-10..-1];

To print them on one line, you can use join.
say join ', ', @array[-10..-1];

A: Try this :
print  join ',',@array[-10..-1] ,"\n";

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