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All the Best Places You Never Wanted to Go
Roleplaying Log: All the Best Places You Never Wanted to Go
The Suicide Squad gets a Thai vacation!!! (They're totally killing people in Thailand.)
Other Characters Referenced: Joker
IC Location: Thailand
Rating & Warnings: R
NPC & GM Credits: NPCs by Ursa.
They picked up Harley Quinn a couple of days ago, hanging out in an abandoned warehouse on the docks. She was alone, and tried to convince the collection committee that she wasn't herself. …Of course, there is the unfortunate reality of the ticking GPS in her brain and the bright red point that it puts on the map.
So. Here she is, happily listening and bopping along to whatever obnoxious pop music is bleeding out of her headphones as she sits with her hands in cuffs, like nothing in the world is wrong, as the black helicopter they happen to be flying in soars over a lovely and completely dark part of Thailand.
The mission is simple: destroy a small house there, belonging to an American ex-pat who knows something he shouldn't, and everyone inside. Everything inside, save one box. A small box full of old CDs in a safe.
That comes back to Waller.
Harley is oblivious to the world around her while Owen couldn't be more acutely aware of what is happening. He is dressed in his usual combination of tactical gear and bits of 'uniform' from his Captain Boomerang days. He grouses, "Can we just pretend like he's a humping little boys and that's why we're being sent in to murder him? Because I gotta say, I'd feel much better about slicing his skull open and setting everything on fire if that were the cause. What happened to lying to us?"
He knows that few if any in the helicopter can actually hear his chatter but Waller will be listening in. "You used to at least bother with a farcical premise Waller, now it's just go here murder this mailman, go there blow up that orphanage, shoot this puppy. Really, would it kill you to put a little bit of that mystique back in our relationship?"
Somehow the resultant static on the comms sounds angry.
There's a point where, if you always lie, it's known that you are always lying. The best lies are the ones couched between pieces of truth, so that all certainty of what is truth and what is untruth is entirely lost. It's probably safest to assume Waller has struck a balance of sorts.
And the static on the radio is definitely angry.
There's the start of turbulence, and rain begins to pelt against the outside of the chopper. It's the start of monsoon season, after all. Because of course it is, and the rains will - presumably - give good cover.
Quinn, with mallet and bag of tricks with her handler nearby, lifts her head as the chopper starts to bounce and watches the ceiling suspiciously. The headphones stay on, however.
It's the man beside Mercer, however, with his tricked out AR-15 nestled against his chest, who turns his head towards the speedster and arches an eyebrow. "You know that shit never helps your case."
"SHOT THROUGH THE HEART! AND YOU'RE SO LAME! BABY, YOU GIVE BLOOD! AND YOUR SHIRT STAINS!"
Wade Winston Wilson. Deadpool. Why he's even on this chopper is probably anyone's guess. And also they probably shouldn't have let him have his walkman. He's geared up for the shear cuts and he's probably sitting farthest from everybody because he's not being dark and broody. He's being, well, himself. And air guitaring the riff from this bad rendition of this rock ballad.
"Oooooooo. I wonder if these rains are as blessed as the ones down in Africa." Wade leans towards the outside of the chopper and just gazes at the rain and the moonsooniness. "Y'know. This is kind of how I'd imagine a Disney and Fox merger." Wade looks left. "Just saying."
With that side comment done, Wade's back to rocking out with his Walkman that does not belong to Peter Quill. This one's black and gray.
At least, now it is.
Watching Deadpool air guitar is at least a good distraction from the fact that he's on a mission with Harley right now. At the comment about not helping himself, Owen turns a look of pure disgust at the soldier. "You think that's not helping my case? I broke into Waller's office last night, dressed up as her complete with ill advised wig and threw up in her trash can, all on camera. THAT didn't help my case."
Of course that little bit of 'confession' could be a complete lie considering who's saying it. But the look on Owen's face is very convincing that he's that adept at meaningless self-sabotage.
It could be a lie, and so would fit in with half of the things that are said in the company of thieves and murderers. There's suddenly a lot of chatter in the radio as they near the destination. The man beside Owen nudges him up, trying to get him to his feet. They physically haul Quinn up onto her feet and start undoing her cuffs. Once they do, she hands off her own headset and starts stretching.
"So," she asks over the smacking of her bubble gum as her arms intertwine behind her back and she leans forward to twist them upwards. "When we gonna land?" And that's about the time that they slam a parachute against her belly. She looks at it, even as more of the packs are handed out to Mercer and Wade in similar fashion, and then her expression falls. 'Really?'
"Nice! I love this part!"
Deadpool straps the pack onto his front because he's weird like that and pulls down his headphones. "So uh. If this goes south, I just want everyone here to know that each and every one of you… complete me." Deadpool places a hand over the parachute pack where his heart would be.
"Let's go kill a likely innocent person who doesn't deserve it in the least, gang!"
And cue the whistling of the Scooby Doo theme.
The parachute slammed against his chest gets a confused "Wha?" from Owen and then he slips it on and starts buckling up. He grumbles, "Can't even bother to land for us? We're gonna be blown into the ocean or eaten by Godzilla." Owen's pretty sure Thailand is basically right next to Japan, because like many Americans he's awesome at geography and world knowledge.
Deadpool's little speech and exit from the chopper actually has a smile on Owen's lips, but once Wade's gone he's left standing facing Harley.
Lighting up a cigarette, he tries his best to be mature. So he's on a mission with his ex? He can focus and be a professional. He doesn't need to stoop down to an immature level. He holds his head up high as he walks past her and turns to offer her best wishes on a successful mission in a completely cordial manner.
Hah, it's Owen. Nope. He turns to her spits out his cigarette in her direction, lifts both middle fingers and shouts, "I hope you get caught in the helicopter blades!" before he jumps out.
See? Very mature and professional.
Harley's flat expression turns towards the open door, where the wind is wailing and the rain is suddenly coming down in sheets. "Yeah," she mutters, "But yer both all wet." She pauses, and then slings stuff into place at what becomes - in an instant - gun point. "Alright, alright, alright."
And then she's out the hatch next, bellowing: "If the landing doesn't kill ya, Mercer, I'm gonna do it!" Another thought. "BUT YOU WILL GET TO LIVE, POOLIE, DUE TO MY MAGNANIMOUS NATURE AND YER ENDURING SENSE OF HUMOUR."
When they all land, however they land, it is in a field of mud and tall weeds. And in the distance, across the field of muck, there is a huge estate with the windows dimly glowing yellow.
Quinn, for those interested, lands facedown in a running stream and its associated mud. She's very angry when she comes up under the soaking wet parachute, a black-wrapped ghost in the dark as she mutters a curse on every single person on this mission. And when she runs out of known identities? She makes up new ones. "And I'm gonna kill that dude before any of you," she hisses at the last, still trying to find her way out of the parachute canopy.
"SPAGHETTI TACCOOOOOOOOOOS!"
The wind catches Deadpool's chute the moment it opens and there he goes. Snatched up and sent flailing off in a direction that is decidedly not the direction he's supposed to be going in.
This is probably not going to end well.
Landing in the mud is gross, but landing in mud so deep that Owen can barely get his feet out of it is worse. He finally manages to get one foot out, losing a boot in the process and then the other. He has to crawl on his stomach to avoid sinking in further, so really he's not in anyway better off than Harley.
Owen grumbles into the comms, "Why don't we have fancy ass heat vision goggles? Or at the least night vision?" He sighs and gets to his feet and pulls out a couple boomerangs from the holder on his chest to wipe them off in the grass. "I've got mud in all my equipment. I'm missing a boot. Waller won't admit her undying love and affection for me. Could this night get any worse?"
He stalks towards the house at least somewhat quietly, even if he lets out an "Ow!" occasionally after stepping on something sharp with his socked foot.
It takes Harley time to disentangle herself, but eventually she's stalking in Mercer's wake towards the house with leaves of whatever is growing in the fields sticking out of her hair. If she weren't completely soaked and concerned about her own equipment, she might be inclined to hunt through her bag for her pop gun and an appropriately hilarious canister to fire in Owen's direction. Instead, she unhitches herself and then hisses after him. "Aw, yer so eager to leave me behind, huh? I'm sensing someone's still got haaard feelings~" Needling him back, revenge for his press against sore places, keeps her from thinking too hard about the last downpour they were in together. Ugh. Ugh!
As they approach the house, it may be easier to spot that there are - despite the foul weather - men on top of the building atop a second story balcony. They're sporting some heavy firepower, but the roof over their heads affords at least some protection. It's also easier to see how immense the traditionally styled home is, and how luxuriously appointed. Raised on numerous columns above the ground, it is safe from the possibility of flood. And it makes it harder, possibly, for our illustrious villains to get inside when there is only one flight of stairs leading into the home.
Quinn draws to a stop just inside the line of light that crosses the field, and her wide eyes consider all of it as she twirls her oversized mallet in her hands. "Gettin' shot would be worse," she decides after a moment, "I guess."
Accepting that the mud just isn't coming off the boomerangs anytime soon Owen blows water off his lips in frustration. He turns back to look at Harley as she needles him about leaving her behind and says, "Aw. You must be used to that by now, arencha? Me? I got no complaints, I fucked my way to the top of the crazy hot scale, screwed the Joker's girl, and lived to tell the tale." Oh Owen, like anyone besides you would believe that story you're telling yourself. Though he does his best to add a cruel twist to his lips as he says it.
Turning back to focus on the mission at hand he says, "You should make a run for the stairs, I'll cover you from a distance." He still has that cruel smirk on his face when he says it, though who knows, neither of them are tacticians and are both equally prone to crazy stunts. "And since when do you worry about getting shot? Going soft, Zelle?"
"Crazy as they come, baby," Harley offers as her only retort as she rolls onto the balls of her muddy feet, and then stretches one leg. Then the other. He mentions living, and Quinn says nothing to that. She let's it hang, and in the silence she falls into - a dangerous sound - she reminds herself of her part in that scenario. And she keeps silent. She looks as vapid as ever, chewing on gum, while her guts churn with a certain indignation.
"Yeah, I got this," she says to the first bit of the plan, preparing to run. And then he says the latter part. She turns to look at him, still chewing her gum like a cow with cud. "You got somethin' ya wanna say, there, B? Before I actually probably get myself shot?"
"Nope!"
Owen gives a chipper response and big fake smile when asked if he has anything he wants to say. But it's worth asking, "How 'bout you? I bet everything's just grand and you're not gonna end up a sobbing mess when he blows you up again, right? Just peachy?" He keeps the smile pasted on his face and forces himself to try and keep as much of the anger out of his voice as he can. Therapy works! Kind of.
He pulls out two boomerangs and points, "Stairs are that way, sweetcheeks."
Owen needles at her own self-doubts, and it waters a dangerous seed. Harley licks her upper lip, and leans in to offer in her most sultry drawl. "He ain't gonna do that." He will. "We got it all worked out." They do, don't they?
Mercer's messing with the balance in her head—the one that keeps her on the very fine tightrope. The one that reminds her that Mister J was very clear about what will surely happen to anything she dares to put before him. The threat that betrays he cares.
Have you ever tried to save something, my dear? The words ring again through the pink corridors of her brain, and Harley sniffs. It's a thing easily enough blamed on the rain pouring down her nose
"I ain't blind, Gonzales. Jes' don't let 'em in on purpose, alright?" And with that? Quinn is across the remaining distance with a speed that is swift, but well within the human range. With her mallet hanging behind her as she runs full tilt, she makes it to the stone patio before they notice.
But then they notice. And they start firing.
Mercer, for the moment, is safely wrapped in the darkness and storm.
He ain't gonna do that.
Owen's face clearly shows just how skeptical he is of that statement. He lets out a small "mhhmmm" of non-agreement when she insists they have it all worked out. He tries to remember to breath or repeat something about calm and center and what the fuck was that again!? He grits his teeth and is glad when she's barking back at him and then running for the stairs.
The gunfire that erupts is hardly a surprise, they didn't take out a single guard before she made her approach. Owen might normally be worried, not that a teammate was going to get shot, but that he would have to take their place. But in this instance, he watches at first with disinterest as she runs straight towards the goal.
Eventually, he steps out and launches two boomerangs and then a third at the guards, a little extra speed to give them enough oomph to embed themselves even into hard skulls. He is then awkwardly jogging after her, one wet muddy sock slipping on the smooth patio as he runs.
The boomerangs hit their marks, and guards fall. But the damage is done. The gunfire means that two new bodies come racing out of the doors at the top of the stairs with the equipment to pick up where the other guys left off, putting Quinn right downhill of them. She launches herself up the rest of the way up the stairs, brandishing Mister Smiley with murderous intent.
Mister Smiley blushes after kissing the side of the first man's head.
That is to say, there's blood spraying. Lots of blood. And the Joker's girl is suddenly nothing but a feral killer, and she laughs loudly — madly — as she finds herself struck by the spray. "Bad night ta be the OTHER bad guys," she taunts, ignoring for a moment the other guard behind her.
Owen's on the move even as the men drop to the ground. He hears the guards coming in for reinforcement and pulls out an orange tipped boomerang, there's no need for stealth but he feels a great need for carnage. He throws the exploding boomerang high and towards the roof area where the patrols there, hoping to cut down on the cover fire and reinforcements later.
And then he's up the stairs and watching Mr. Smiley do his thing. He agrees, "Yea. That doesn't look fun." In contrast, it looks like Harley's having a grand old time.
"Where's the target?"
He's asking the comms mostly, but maybe Harley knows? It is very unlikely that Harley knows.
The comms are definitely the people to ask as Harley wheels on the second man, and starts pulverizing his head, too, with a very exuberant from-behind-the-head swing. And another. And another. "You got something on yer face!" she shrieks to the corpse, only to run ahead and look for the next thing to kill.
It's been a very bad few months for poor Harley's brain, and she's ready to smash everyone else's to make up for it. It's not her fault. None of this is her fault. And she's sick and tired of it!
But back to the comms. It's Waller's voice who crackles through, unfortunately giving Owen the intel that she's probably been listening the whole time. "The second floor. He's got a study. He should be there. And Mercer? Watch the mouth, or you're going back in a cell for a month."
Watching Harley smash in the corpse, causes Owen to grimace a little bit. He's not one for overly violent head smashing, especially the squicky noises that the hammer makes with the fluids and the bone and the.. he doesn't feel so good. He carefully side steps around Harley to move for the second floor stairs and head towards the target.
"First of all, I have been a damn saint on the channel tonight." Okay, for at least the last five minutes maybe he's been tolerable. "But if you promise to cuff me and lock me up, I can turn up the naughty talk."
"I promise to put you in the deepest and darkest hole I can find unless you do what you're told, so I would suggest moving." Even as Harley continues a tirade elsewhere, the Wall seems unmoved. "Or, I suppose, I could just leave you little shits there." The pause that comes next is interrupted by another wave of men rushing down the hall to try to dislodge Harley and Owen from their place near the doorway.
Harley's gaze sweeps in Owen's direction, wide and wild, as she offers a tooth-baring grin. And then? She's off. More things to kill. More things standing between this moment and the one that gets her home again. More things that complicate the prospect of not only herself, but Owen getting to keep breathing.
She's also pretty okay just with killing in general, so it's easier for her. And she's willing to take that on with gusto. And so, when he slides around her, she lingers behind him until there's someone else to kill. Then it's a surge forward to do her part. "What's the difference between a jar of jelly and a grand piano?" she asks, red rubber noses filled to bursting with the things that go 'boom' sliding down the hall.
…Wait. So they let her on the chopper, and dropped her out with those?!
"Ain't one," she croons as she delivers the punchline, her voice a low rumble, "if ya burn it all." And then she just starts laughing, loud and hard.
"Are you trying to talk dirty or does your natural raw sex appeal just make it all sound super filthy?" Look she's talking about deep, dark holes and he's Owen so it's not terribly surprising. Though no one, least of all Amanda Waller, understands Owen's predilection for flirting with her, he continues to find some sort of joy in it. Honestly her 'threat' of being left there doesn't sound all that bad, despite the mud, his lack of shoe and the shooting.
Harley's crazy pants blood-lust grin only gets a concerned half-smile from Owen that looks an awful lot like a grimace. The exploding rubber noses make him laugh though. Look they both appreciate a good gimmick, that hasn't changed.
Heading for the study, Owen kicks the door attempting a dramatic entrance with shock and awe. Except it's a really solid door. And he forgot about the fact that he only has one boot on and of course kicked it with his muddy sock. This means he mostly just hurts his foot and bounces back and has to wait for a 'key'… a giant smiling mallet shaped key.
Waller growls into Owen's ear. "Just get it done, Mercer."
Pigtails bobbing all the while, Harley's eyes light up with a childlike wonder as the noses go boom and the house shakes. There's a brief moment where a scream might have gone, but the blast cuts it all short.
Quinn, for her part, just stares as though observing a flower in bloom.
And then she's got Waller shouting in her ear about getting to Owen and blah blah blah blah blah BLAH blah blah. She chews her gum and slowly lifts her gaze to the ceiling as there's the sound of boots overhead—lots of boots, pounding their way into her awareness once the ringing has stopped. They're moving towards the study, too, although she doesn't know it.
Owen Mercer will know it, though, as the private security rounds the bend with automatic rifles in their possession. These are lowered towards Owen, so they can try to perforate him. The walls are more solid than they look, ammunition wedging itself in their solid expanse instead of punching straight through.
Once the shooting starts, Quinn's on her way up a different flight of stairs than Owen took, hoping it deposits her somewhere helpful.
"OOW!"
Owen yells into the comms in displeasure at his foot that is definitely going to be hurting in the morning. He at first mistakes the people rounding the corner to be his own allies, since he's too busy looking down at his poor foot but realizes just in time that they are much more serious about killing him than his allies, who mostly joke about it. Mostly.
The good thing about being a cheater, err speedster, is that you can get the hell out of dodge when suddenly faced with a barrage of bullets. Owen is able to get back around a corner and launch a volley of two razor boomerangs to relieve the men of their arms, in both senses. He calls "Door's more solid than I hoped. Anyone bring a battering ram?"
The mental picture of Harley using one of the guards as a battering ram briefly crosses his mind and he can't decide if it's gross, hilarious or weirdly attractive. Dammit. He's past that!
"Already used my explodies to take out some guards on the roof? Any more red noses Bozette?"
"Nooooo," Harley must lamentably confess. She wishes she had more of those. They were fun! And effective. Two important pieces. "Buuuuut, I may have something to help. Lemme jes' get ta ya."
It feels nice, when she forgets that he hates her now, to pretend like Stark Tower never happened.
Sure, yeah, he said he hoped she'd die chopped to death and calls her names, but that's hardly something she's unaccustomed to! He hasn't actually pushed her towards the helicopter blades, so… maybe he only hates her a little?
These are things that go through a girl's head… when she's readying to smash in someone else's. Harley comes in behind the guards, ready to defend her ex-whatever-he-was with her mallet at the ready, only to find them bleeding out on the floor.
"Awwwwwwww," she whines melodramatically. "You didn't save me one!!!"
She gives Owen a dirty look as she sets her mallet against the wall by the door and rifles through her messenger bag. What she pulls out is a small clear glass bottle with a spray dispenser top. "What's that, you ask! How will you open the door with a seltzer bottle?"
Quinn shakes it, and the clear liquid inside bubbles harmlessly. She kneels at a space back from the door, and sprays.
She lets it bubble again, less harmlessly, as the highly corrosive acid does its work in melting the locking mechanism.
She stands up, steps back, and sweeps a hand proudly towards her handiwork. "Atcher leisure, Captain Kangaroo."
It's easy to forget that he's supposed to hate her now, that Stark Towers happened. Not that he's in danger of falling back into old patterns per se, just that it makes it easier to think of her as just another criminal thrown together by Black Machiavellina to do supposedly good things in terrible, terrible ways.
"Nope! Too slow Quinn." Owen has apparently decided that right now, in the middle of the mission is a good time to light up a cigarette, which he does while Harley rifles through her bag.
The acidic spray gets a twisted lip and look of concern or disgust from Owen as he asks, "Isn't that normally for spraying in people's faces? … Do you ever forget?" Yes, it's probably not the right time to be asking questions like that but considering it's Owen and Harley and the Squad in general, no one is surprised. Plus, it's a very valid question.
Once the door knob is thoroughly bubbled, Owen kicks again, this time with booted foot and enters the room, a regular boomerang in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other.
Harley looks at Owen with a dumb-founded expression, mouth agape, as he kicks open the door and goes first. It's only right that he goes first. Because he's a cheating speedster who should be able to better react to what's on the other side.
"Do I ever forget what?" she asks him after a beat, after the door is open and slamming into the wall.
This, like the rest of the estate, is palatially decorated. Thai silk drapes the curtains in elaborate patterns of gold, turquoise, and red. The walls are covered in a floral stucco tile, painted gold. It looks like the hall of a king, rather than American far from home.
On the other side of the door are two heavily armed guards, and a man who sits behind them at an expansive desk with a cavernous, roaring fireplace at his back. It's like out of a James Bond novel, except that the clean-cut 'villain' of the piece—and we do have to use that word lightly—is wearing a golfing polo, a pair of khakis, and a pair of brown Rockport sandals.
Also, there's a distinctive lack of talking as the two men open fire. Quinn ducks low as bullets tear the wall over her apart, punching through the plaster and blasting it into a cloud of white. As she crouches, she loads up one of her pop gun's canisters.
She talks during this process, letting the chatter fill the radio.
"I mean, I ferget lotsa stuff. Jes' ask somebody! My manners… My own phone number… Why I ever cared about the big fricking hot shots sitting in that room like they're gods while I get sent to the middle of no fricking where, through the mud and rain, on a night off…" She barks a laugh loudly at that.
She waits until there's a pause, and then hangs her arm blindly through the gaping hole to fire her canister the middle of the room. "Jes' kidding! I never cared about you lousy mooks."
And with that, the cannister skitters across the floor before erupting in a shower of sparks.
"That your ex is a manipulative mastermind who tried to murder you repeatedly and that we had something good going …" Owen helpfully provides another example of things Harley has forgotten, but there's very little venom in the tone. The only emphasis comes as he ducks and dips out of the line of fire and launches a boomerang for one of the gunmen. Normally he'd try to disarm them, but it's just easier to bludgeon their heads in really.
He's still in the room when the canister sputters in and he sees sparks and yells, "Dammit, Quinn!" before beating a hasty if not supernaturally fast retreat back outside the room before that cannister does more than just sparkle.
The only good thing is that he can grab the door on the way back through to help seal all that goodness inside the room. Really make sure they get the full impact.
Like a firecracker on the fourth of July, the canister starts spraying fiery streams with abandon across the room. The silk rug threatens to burn when a few cinders smoulder upon it, but they go out. The men inside the room aren't so lucky.
The bloom of colored gunpowder burns hands and faces. There'd probably be more screaming, but half of the security team is lying insensible on the floor. The stench of sulfur and seared meat fills the air.
And it lands on the paper on the desk and starts to burn there, instead.
"What?" she asks as she looks to Owen at his exclamation, holding the door closed. She looks oblivious and innocent as she blinks and shrugs, her soot-streaked face seemingly without guile as she continues to hold her pop gun and sit upon the floor. "Ya had plenty-a time to get out."
The comment about the Joker, she lets pass by without reply because what could actually be said?
She'd be the death of him. And it's probably saying a whole lot when Quinn herself is readily certain that she is—was—Owen's version of slumming it.
Didn't he just say so? She is the top of the crazy scale. The very top! She can't really deny it. And, if care is something that must be earned (for surely it is), what could she ever offer him? The jokes would run dry eventually, and then she'd be left with nothing at all. She's a passing fancy, perhaps, but ultimately worthless to decent people. And passing fancies do just that. They pass.
The last year? More than a year. Bozo Alive, it was more than a year she was on her own. It was freedom from all of the ways that her puddin' knows how to sneak into her thoughts, and poison everything.
Ugh. The biggest joke of all: she doesn't deserve Owen Mercer. Owen Mercer.
This is kindness, she reminds herself before she gets too far down the rabbit hole. Keep him distant, Harl, she think to herself. Keep him safe. Then, once that's done, ya make the best of whatcha got.
She loves the Joker. And he loves her back. Who else could know the darkest parts of her and still put up with her? And if she stops loving him, who else will? Doesn't everyone deserve to be loved?
Not everything you love is good for you. Old advice she once gave patients has been put to her more than once.
Round and round and round, she goes, tearing herself apart better than anyone else she knows until she squints and bobs her head to the side, as though she could physically shake loose the wretched thoughts.
She licks her teeth as she tries to not think anymore about it, and starts loading another canister. "I wanna get outta here. I'm soaked. Why doncha go find those stupid CDs Satan wants, and then we can burn this place down, huh? I promise to not shootcha." A pause, and then she shrugs and turns her dripping face towards Owen. "Unless ya dawdle."
Fireworks yay! Fireworks inside small contained spaces? Even better! Well at least it is so long as Owen's not also inside those spaces. And the good thing about the burning sulfur smell of the gunpowder? It covers the smell of burning flesh really well.
Owen looks at Harley as she promises not to shoot him and he says, "Yea, and I promised to stop shooting heroin and screwing hookers buuuuuuut.." Things happen. He then makes an *I'm watching you* motion before heading inside with a look over his shoulder at her as he walks in. She would hardly be the first other member of the Squad to shoot at Owen.
All the turmoil within Harley about their past is hidden to Owen; he's happy to just make quips at this point.
But now that he's in the room and actually has to find the DVDs or CDs or whatever.
At the heroin and hookers comment, Harley looks at Owen with one of those looks. It's kinda funny, when you think about. Harley Quinn wordlessly chastising ANYONE about their self-destructive addictions and the treacherous goat paths they carve over a person.
Downright hilarious, really.
Meanwhile, the room in its smouldering glory seems to have no easy place to safely store a treasure precious enough to get Amanda Waller's interest. The harlequin walks inside, wrapping a strap of jingle bells around the handle of her mallet, just under the smiling, X-eyed drawing. She pokes around in a cursory fashion, her wide eyes considering the room at large.
When they fall on a camera in the corner, she pulls out a chair, climbs it, and then promptly smashes it into oblivion as though Owen didn't just speed-bash a bunch of folk on camera already.
They can search the room, too. And, wherever they start, a search of the desk will reveal—to criminals who know the type (here, Owen)—a heavy lockbox under a drawer's false bottom.
The paintings on the wall go first, because it's a classic for a reason. Owen doesn't bother lifting them gently to look, no, he flings them off the wall with a flip from the bottom. Calling out "Nope!" after each one falls down to reveal blank wall beneath.
The burned body in the chair blocking the desk is rolled out of the way with a grimace and a few choking noises, but luckily he keeps it together long enough to start searching the drawers. Again the preferred method being to pull out the drawer, dump all of the contents on the ground and then fling the drawer to the side. As soon as he pulls out the drawer with the fake bottom, Owen knows what's up. The weight alone gives it away. He sets it on the desk and fiddles around to find how to release the false bottom.
He pulls out the lockbox and looks at it.
"Huh. I bet that it's it but we should probably open it to make sure we got the goods, right?"
And by that he means see if it has anything he might want in it like drugs, or cash or weird asian porn. Owen is gross. Move on.
Harley, who would typically be the first to laugh along with Owen's various debaucheries, is probably better off never knowing that last item. She leans her mallet against a dead guy's hip, and rests its handle upon the curve of her own, as she rifles through her bag.
"Yeah, probably," Quinn agrees before going to the desk and starting to set out supplies. The seltzer bottle. A set of lock picks. A few paper wrapped somethings that at least *look* like popper fireworks.
She's a clown for all seasons.
"Maybe there's gold in there," she suggests with a dramatic voice full of awe as she dumps the burned body out of the seat and onto the floor. Owen gagged; she only crinkles her nose a little. At least now the one they can presume to be Mister Expat has his uncharred backside facing up. She then rolls the chair back to the desk to sit on its edge. "And there'll be enough in there that we can split it and still have enough to run away and leave behind this life of crime."
Waller's voice grunts in their ears, and then smashes all frail imagining: "Don't count on it, convicts."
For the blonde, it's a harsh reminder that everything that came before was also in Satan's ear and she looks up to the middle of the room as though the dark shadow over her life was standing right there. Her eyes narrow.
Her eyes then chance over to Owen, she considers him for a moment, and then her features resolve into something more neutral. More vacant. She forces a smile and then pats the desk for the box to be set down, continuing with saccharine sweetness, "Orrrrr we could give unto Satan what is Satan's."
"Don't you forget it."
Unseen, Harl makes a face and mouths, 'Do you think Dee Pee could…?' A finger slowly draws across her throat, and then Quinn's eyebrows bounce up hopefully.
Again, she draws her finger across her throat. Then she points to the box and pantomimes opening it. Then she alternates pointing to herself and Owen. And then she her fingers take a stroll through the proverbial Yellow Pages, walking across her arm.
"Yea, the days of us doing one last score before disappearing into the sunset simultaneously never happened and are over." The cliche exists for a reason but they were never that type of partner in crime. And the fact that she's bringing it up now draws a suspicious look from Owen as she's openly talking about it?
He makes a pointing gesture to his ear, where the comm device is just as Amanda's dulcet tones (ie painfully loud bark) fill their ears with the reminder that there will be no absconding with any gold, which there is likely none. Because this is Owen and his bad luck fills the air around him with a miasma of disappointment and failure. Or maybe that's just the smell of burning flesh and gunpowder. Either way, Owen's sure there is no gold in there.
He watches as she mouths the question and he shakes his head and mimes Waller snapping something in half, presumably Wade in this instance and then eating one of those halves.
"Alright, let's get this open and find out what's inside."
Owen narrates possibly for Waller's benefit but also for Harley's. There's no point in getting overly excited if they blow it open and it's just a bunch of guns or cocaine, as much as Owen likes those things they'd hardly be worth crossing Waller for, nor would she likely care if he took them.
And so he picks up the lockpicks 'cheats' to work the lock as quickly as he can, in case they need the time to convince Waller they're still working on it.
Harley, for her part, just smirks and shrugs to Owen's sensibility.
Because that box may very well be filled with gold. Not the precious metal variety, perhaps, but the kind that turns into precious metal in the right hands. Why else would Waller want it?
But Owen is—and this bears repeating because it's Owen—being sensible. She can go along with his sensible compliance, she supposes. It doesn't hurt anything. It gets her back to Gotham sooner. Hopefully before her Puddin' notices she's been gone.
Sitting in the chair formerly occupied by the corpse (done with all of the ease of someone who has done this more than once), she sets her elbows upon the desk, knits her fingers together, and sets her chin daintily atop the hammock they form. She watches Owen expectantly as he works, and it only takes him moments what would take others much longer.
Cheating speedsters, you know.
When the son of Boomerang opens up the box, he'll find several things. A small stack of doctored passports that match the once-gaunt and now charcoal-briquette face of the man in the chair, a few large bills and scattered coins in varying currencies that the discerning eye will notice match the passports, and a thick blue canvas CD wallet from a security trade show in Chicago, September 30, 1998.
Inside are a bunch of CDs, all marked 'Spin Doctors' with black permanent marker.
Waller's voice rumbles impatiently in their ears. "Well…?"
"It's taking a while, I have performance anxiety when you're listening. But I'm.. mhmm.. Almost there." Owen puts on a pretty good verbal performance of being both his normal gross self and of not having actually opened the box. Which gives him and Harley time to paw through the contents. Hopefully quietly, though that is rarely Harley's specialty.
Owen lays out the passports and the money carefully and then picks up the CD wallet and looks at it and then up at Harley. He has no idea what the hell that is. I mean besides the awesome band that brought us the earworm that is 'Two Princes', obviously.
If this is what Waller wants, then that security tradeshow from twenty years ago must have been lit.
"Passports. Money, which I'm taking." He looks at the passports and shoves both of them into his pocket.
"What else were we supposed to find in there? Pretty sure you didn't send us here to bump the guy off for petty cash and fake documents."
He points at the CDs and mimes to Harley, "Why?" before handing them to her.
Harley flips through the passports on the desk just before Owen takes them, but finds just as little particularly suspicious about them as he does, save the obvious illegality of them as they dance across a number of Asian countries.
He takes the money, and she really doesn't care. She's busy rifling through the other contents of the desk. Until Owen holds up the CDs and her entire face screws up in a very obvious 'what the hell?'. She shrugs and then stretches a hand out to mime back, 'Give'em to me', even as he does.
She looks at the 20 disc canvass CD wallet and, finding nothing, squints at the little pages of vinyl and anti-scratch fabric. She flips a page back and forth. Back and forth. And then she starts sliding CDs out of their pages and flipping their backs over to watch the prismatic surfaces on the back. Compares a couple. Then she only pulls the rest out just enough to glance at the backs.
She goes through all of them… Until she pulls out one that has a smattering of nonsense words and numbers handwritten neatly in no apparent order on the back with Sharpie. Her face screws up again as she pulls it out. She squints and considers it for a long moment before she shakes her head as she gives up the puzzle and holds it out for Owen to look at for himself at the end of one meticulously painted fingernail.
Meanwhile, Waller is losing her patience on the other end. "There should be a batch of discs, you disgusting maggot. If they're not there, then you keep the hell looking. And you might want to hurry up and find them before I decide you two are a waste of my time."
Two. Which means Waller must have already collected Wilson back up. Or exploded him. Harley's dreams of murdering Waller dissipate in a puff of smoke. Again. The soot-smeared clown sighs as a pout erupts on her face and she starts packing her bag back up.
But then, there's noise from elsewhere in the house, and Quinn's head head turns sharply towards the door, sending her shorter pigtails bouncing.
Owen plucks the discs out of her hand and pulls the one with the writing on it. He shrugs at Harley and tucks that one away into one of his boomerang holding pockets. He then calls in "Oh look taped under the desk. I think I got it."
Acting may not be a skillset he possesses, but lying is an awful lot like acting and that comes as second nature to Owen.
The noise outside causes him to snap his head to look at the door as well, though he has no bouncy pigtails to accentuate the movement. He pulls out a boomerang to launch at whatever comes through that door, realizes it's the CD he's in the process of double-stealing and sheepishly tucks that back in.
Now with actual boomerang in hand Owen waits, but checks the windows for other possible terrible exit strategies he could use.
Quinn's expression is a frantic one as Owen nearly throws the CD, but it resolves into an exasperated one with a sigh as he realizes it's the wrong thing and makes the switch.
She's not entirely certain that stealing from Waller is the best plan that Mercer's ever had, but her moment to wallow in skepticism is denied as there is something that overtakes the sound of the wind and rain as it crashes against the window panes in the hall.
It's the sound of machine gun fire coming up through the floorboards.
Harley takes this in with an undignified "AUGH!" and then proceeds to get on top of the desk for some additional cover, fishing around for a grenade in her bag after pulling up a .44 Magnum for the job which she promptly points towards the door, just in case. Because she's bracing to drop a floor if they rip apart the boards beneath her, and then drop some more bodies.
Owen might notice, however, that there are several wood panels cracked open that are actually leading out to thinner windows, just wide enough for a human body. Else, there's only trying to cross the floor or go up the massive chimney.
The "best plan Mercer's ever had" is on such a sliding scale of terrible that it's hard to tell if the apex is even above neutral. Which is to say that no one should ever let Owen plan anything.
The bullets ripping up through the floor send Owen careening around the desk and onto a chair as he takes in the scene. He points to the cracked wooden panels and says, "Harley! Go through!" Yes, he has no idea where they lead but he's also not exactly going first so what's the problem.
If she doesn't go, though, he's going to try and slip through one himself.
It's a good thing for Owen Mercer that Harley is often a very bad judge of common sense herself. She hears this plan, looks to where he's pointing, and then simply puts her grenade and pistol away in order to pick up Mister Smiley.
No. Mallet. Left. Behind.
And, as gunfire continues to explode underneath the harlequin and the speedster, the floor becoming more uncertain with each passing moment, she slings her bag onto her back and takes a moment to gauge the distance before sliding back to the end of the desk and then running as far as she can before jumping for the edge of the room. She lands on top of a couch, only to have it slide the rest of the way and then slam into the wall. It's a scramble after that for the windows. She hurls herself through one, and it leads to an interior garden room, filled with a collection of elaborate wooden Thai garden shrines. The cavernous room has two walls that are open to the elements, save the ornate wooden scrollwork of the pillars. But now, those pillars are all alight as fire has snaked up from the floor below. Part of the floor has fallen through. If they hadn't been high ceilings in the home, the flames would have likely already taken out the floor.
Harley sees it and, for the first time in a long time, freezes with her eyes open wide and then they fill with a manic light as she searches for anywhere to go that isn't a floor she doesn't trust to not dump her into a deadly fire. Again. If Mercer is right on her heels or beside her through another window, he'll see the way she slams her back up against the wall. Then starts rifling through her bag for her little jester grappling hook with its hooks painted to be the three tails of a cap, and the rest painted up to look just like her.
"Get goin', B. I'll catch up."
There's a curse as she looks down into her bag. "I know I brought it! WHERE ARE YOU?!"
There's another voice that cuts onto the radio. The chopper pilot for tonight's misadventure cuts in, announcing his imminent arrival for the location. He won't be landing, but hell put the ladder down and get them to the getaway plane's location. At least, it seems, they aren't going to have trudge back out through the mud field?
After a moment, she holds it aloft, victorious and proud, like a queen's scepter. "TA DA!"
A queen in a kingdom surrounded by fire and blood, and about to be reduced to ash. If that isn't a fitting metaphor…
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WATERLOO LILY
thehallway
This album should sound brilliant; all the ingredients are there. On my first listen, I found it difficult to detect that any of the band members had even changed since the previous albums. It seemed like classic Caravan, only with a funky electric piano, one of my favourite instruments. But I don't find myself wanting to spin this album anywhere near as much as '...Grey and Pink'. Something about it just isn't quite "there". Although many reviewers might tell you it's because Steve Miller took the band in too much of a jazz direction, I don't really hear Waterloo Lily as being any more or less jazzy than its predecessors. It does, I think, suffer from some less inspired composition (on a general level, not because there is too much/little of the Canterbury sound).
The title track IS up there with the likes of Golf Girl, Hello Hello and all the other quirky rockers Caravan produced. It's probably the best song on Waterloo Lily, the downside of that being that it is then very easy to lose interest once track one is over. 'Nothing At All' is a pleasant enough jam, but the group used to include such noodling as part of their longer suites, not as songs in their own right. I sense that the piece is stretched out and a little aimless. 'Songs and Signs' is another of the band's decent ordinary-length songs and it was written by Miller, despite echoing Pie's compositional style, so I honestly don't think the problem with this album lies with him. 'Aristocracy' is okay as well, but at this point I find myself hungry for something big.
Lucky, then, that we're treated to another one of Caravan's lengthy suites with many titles? Well, this one starts off really strongly, with an uncharacteristic but very well-suited string section. By the time we've done the first two sections though, things meander into a dull mess, where jazz and rock seem at odds with each other rather than working together. It's such a shame, because I really looked forward to something along the lines of the psychedelic 'For Richard' or explosive 'Nine Feet Underground'. 'The Love In Your Eye' is like a lazy man's attempt to make another masterpiece by stringing together bland sections of not-very-groovy jamming. This is hard to take, because few white bands were better at jamming than Caravan, and nobody had more groove this side of the Atlantic.
Overall, this album is disappointing, but only compared to the previous Caravan albums, where they seemed so naturally good at creating fun, proggy, funky songs. By normal standards, this is still an album worth hearing, and it has maybe 20 minutes of excellent material. It might be Richard's laziness after Dave left, or some lack of group creativity, because they could still play very well, but the tunes just aren't there. I feel terrible giving this three stars, but the spark had (momentarily) disappeared.
thehallway | 3/5 | 2012-5-24
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


In the presence of the children, the teachers, many parents and friends of the Brothers of Charity, the extension of the Saint Peter's School was solemnly inaugurated and consecrated on Thursday, 22 December 2016.
The latest issue of Deus Caritas Est, the congregational periodical of the Brothers of Charity, is out. Forty pages of information and reflections on spirituality and the apostolic works of the Brothers of Charity.
From 2 to 6 December 2016, the General Council met with the provincial superiors for their annual meeting. This time, Indonesia was chosen as the meeting place.


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In der Liste der Baudenkmale in Grieben sind alle denkmalgeschützten Bauten der mecklenburgischen Gemeinde Grieben und ihrer Ortsteile aufgelistet. Grundlage ist die Veröffentlichung der Denkmalliste des Kreises Nordwestmecklenburg mit dem Stand vom 16. September 2020.

Baudenkmale nach Ortsteilen

Grieben

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Quelle

Grieben
!Baudenkmal

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


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Electric locks are simply an electronic device that requires electricity to function. These could be released by a physical object, an information or combination of both. It uses solenoids, magnets or motor to trigger the device by eliminating or supplying electric power to the Electric Locks. These are the most appropriate option for those who are very much concern about the safety and security of their family and properties. An Electric/Automatic Gate, without Electric Locks are not so convenient and secure that they could be with them.
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There is a parking lot behind and along the side of our building. Handicapped designated spaces are available near both building entrances. There is an elevator located just inside the front entrance of the building.
You will be met at the entrance by a greeter who will be happy to answer any questions you may have about our service and community.
Whatever is most natural for you is what you should wear. You will see people wearing everything from a suit and tie to shorts and sandals.


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Peter H. Quinn
Ranked #58 on the list Best Military Person of All Time
About Peter H. Quinn
Participated in conflicts:
Peter H. Quinn (May 1873 - April 19, 1934) was a United States Army soldier received the Medal of Honor for actions on May 13, 1899 during the Philippine-American War. Private Quinn is buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Rank and organization: Private, Company L, 4th U.S. Cavalry. Place and date: At San Miguel de Mayumo, Luzon, Philippine Islands, May 13, 1899. Entered service at: San Francisco, California. Birth: San Francisco, California. Date of issue: June 6, 1906. Citation: With 11 other scouts without waiting for the supporting battalion to aid them or to get into a position to do so, charged over a distance of about 150 yards and completely routed about 300 of the enemy who were in line and in a position that could only be carried by a frontal attack.
Ranked #58 in Best Military Person of All Time
By Listnerd
Best Military Person of All Time
on November 27th 2012
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Maria Zofia Dulęba (17 October 1881– 6 May 1959) was a Polish stage and film actress. She made her stage debut in 1902 and went on to perform in a number of films, mostly in the silent era. She later also taught drama.

Selected filmography
 Meir Ezofowicz (1911)
 Przesady (1912)
 Obrona Częstochowy (1913)
 Wykolejeni (1913)
 Slodycz grzechu (1914)
 Countess Walewska (1914)
 Bestia (1917)
 The Unspeakable (1924)
 Żona i nie żona (1939)

References

Bibliography
 Lerski, Halina. Historical Dictionary of Poland, 966-1945. ABC-CLIO, 30 Jan 1996.

External links

1881 births
1959 deaths
Polish stage actresses
Polish film actresses
Polish silent film actresses
20th-century Polish actresses
Actresses from Kraków
Recipients of the State Award Badge (Poland)


Edgardo Ortuno, Afro-Uruguayan professor, politician, and activist for human rights and equal opportunities, was born on June 10, 1970 in the Uruguayan capital of Montevideo. Ortuno's childhood experiences had a profound impact on his adult life. Growing up as an Afro-Uruguayan in a country where only four percent of the population were of African descent, Ortuno developed a keen sense of racial pride and a fierce opposition to discrimination of any kind. Moreover, his experience growing up under the military dictatorship of Juan M. Bordaberry, which crushed democracy and open political debate in Uruguay, instilled in Ortuno a belief in freedom of expression and equality.
As a young man Ortuno was initially drawn to academia and in the years 1990-1991 he held the position of research assistant at the Center for Interdisciplinary Studies in Uruguay. Between the years 1990 and 1993 Ortuno also worked in the Center of Students of the Institute of Professors in Artigas, Uruguay (CEIP). Throughout this period he involved himself in studies of history, literature, education, and social sciences.
Politics, however, would prove to be Ortuno's passion. Even while involved in academia, Ortuno participated in debates and activities concerning controversial political subjects, developing as he did so a liberal political outlook. In his teenage years, for instance, Ortuno was involved as a student activist in the Confederacy of Secondary Students and in 1987 he voted in a referendum to abolish the Law of Expiration of the Punitive Pretension of the State, which had allowed amnesty for crimes which had been committed during the military dictatorship.
Eventually Ortuno moved into electoral politics, joining the coalition party Frente Amplio (FA), a largely leftist party with a commitment to the expansion of social programs in Uruguay. In 2000 he was elected as an MP, becoming the first member of the Uruguayan legislature of African descent. This marked a significant moment for Afro-Uruguayans and has also proved to be a powerful platform from which Ortuno denounces racism, sexism, and discrimination not just in Uruguay, but also in the Americas. In 2003, for instance, Ortuno was invited to sign the Act of Brasilia which calls for an end to racial discrimination across Latin America and the Caribbean. Ortuno was also one of the key campaigners behind the establishment in 2006 of the National Day of Candombe which recognizes the cultural and political achievements of Afro-Uruguayans.
Edgardo Ortuno is currently the Ministry of Industry Sub-Secretary for the ruling government of Uruguay and continues to promote the importance of education and equality, participating in efforts to include both more Afro-Uruguayans and females into the Uruguayan political system.
Edgardo Ortuno website: http://www.eortuno.depolitica.com.uy; UNHRC Refworld website: http://www.unhcr.org/refworld/country (UNHRC: UN Refugee Agency, 2010); Koichiro Matsuura, Address by Koichiro Matsuura: Afro-Uruguayan cultural traditions and history within the context of the Coalition of Latin American and Caribbean Cities against Racism, Discrimination and Xenophobia (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, April 2009).
and Cultural Organization, April 2009).


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William has held senior executive roles across the Australian and African resources sector for over two decades and has worked directly in Namibia, Botswana, Cameroon, Congo, Gabon, Egypt, Niger and South Africa. He has further experience in member-based organisation leadership, including with the Chamber of Minerals & Energy WA (Government Relations and Policy), National Party WA (Corporate Director) and South Coast Natural Resource Management Inc. (Chair).
William brings an exceptional pedigree to the role, spanning corporate leadership in resource development in Africa, senior roles in resource sector representative bodies and direct experience in Government lobbying and negotiating at the State and Federal levels. He holds a Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Western Australia with honours in Geology.
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As a qualified accountant and company secretary with more than 10-year audit, not-for-profit and commercial experience, Giovanny, who is also the Company Secretary of Paydirt Media Pty Ltd (a member company), oversees AAMEG's administration, compliance, accounting and other financial affairs. He has been AAMEG's Company Secretary since its incorporation in April 2011.
Tim Carstens has been Managing Director of Base Resources Ltd since its inception in 2008. During this time, it has acquired, designed, funded, developed and successfully operationalised the $310 million Kwale Mineral Sands Project Operation, Kenya's first large scale mining project. Tim has been instrumental in laying the foundations for the company's progressive governance, sustainability and social responsibility programs, which have secured broad local community and Kenyan government support for the Kwale Operation and the company. As well as continuing to manage the Kwale Operation, Base Resources is now developing the Toliara Project in Madagascar.
A Chartered Accountant by profession, Tim's resources career spans more than 20 years, including senior executive roles with Perilya Limited, North Limited, Robe River Iron Associates, Iron Ore Company of Canada and St Barbara Mines Limited in operations, strategy, corporate development and finance, both in Australia and overseas. Tim was appointed Chairman of AAMEG in November 2015.
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Peter De Leo, Managing Director of Lycopodium Limited is a civil engineer with over 29 years' experience within the resources and infrastructure sectors. Successfully delivering many of Lycopodium's pioneering and large-scale projects in Africa, Peter is a trusted advisor in the design, engineering and construction of resource projects. Peter brings first-hand understanding of the risks and challenges businesses face working on the continent, but also a sound appreciation of the benefits and opportunities that come with it.
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Ben Gargett is a partner in PwC's Assurance practice, based in Perth. Ben specialises in the resources sector, primarily mining, but also oil & gas. Through his role in driving PwC's growth in the mid-tier and junior mining sectors, he developed a passion for supporting dynamic and growing organisations and helping companies to achieve and exceed their potential.Ben's focus on the mining sector lead to the development of PwC's Australia-Africa Practice, which he lead nationally. The Australia-Africa practice connects Australian companies with PwC's leading African network, supported by our Australian team which understand their business, culture and objectives and connects our clients to partners on the ground where they need it.He has extensive experience in providing audit and related services to the resources sector globally, working with iconic Australia companies such as Fortescue Metals Group, Rio Tinto and BHP Billiton, large multinationals such as Newmont, Shell and Exxon Mobil and a range of companies across the junior and mid-tier mining sector.
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Krista is a corporate partner with Lavan and head of the Lavan Mining & Resources Group. She has extensive experience advising a diverse base of private and listed companies, private equity funds, governments and individuals, nationally and internationally on mergers, acquisitions and disposals (including by auction), private equity investments, joint ventures, management buy-outs, schemes of arrangements (both solvent and insolvent), corporate governance issues, commercial contracts and general corporate advice. Krista has led transactions with deal values ranging from $20,000 to $4.5 billion across multiple sectors and has an exceptional legal background (magic circle firms Clifford Chance and Linklaters) with over 18 years' experience in the legal market including acting as Head of Africa for a large London law firm. Prior to moving to Perth, she was consistently over many years recognised as a Band One/Tier One leading lawyer by Chambers Global, IFLR and PLC Which Lawyer, and she has been praised for her strong commercial acumen and pragmatic approach to investing in Africa.
Colin Carson
After five years with a large CPA firm and 10 years as finance executive with a Perth based builder and property developer, in 1987 Colin became a partner of a CPA firm, specialising in taxation and public company secretarial work, including for Mount Edon Gold Mines NL, operator of the Tarmoola Gold Mine in WA. Colin co-ordinated the listing of Leo Shield Exploration NL in 1995 and was an original director and company secretary of that West African focussed mineral explorer.
In 1996, Colin became a foundation shareholder and director of Corporate & Resources Consultants Pty Ltd, acompany specialising in assisting with mining industry transactions, stock exchange listings and fundraisings. Colin has acted as a director and company secretary of a number of ASX listed exploration companies operating in Australia, Asia and West, central and East Africa, and has been an executive director of Perseus Mining Limited since it was floated as an exploration company in 2004. Perseus has grown since then to develop and operate mines in Ghana and Côte d'Ivoire, and is currently developing its third mine at Yaouré in Côte d'Ivoire. His responsibilities with Perseus have covered commercial, legal and government and community relations. Colin has had extensive interaction with West African governments and mining associations on issues surrounding mining and tax laws, and has actively promoted modifications to laws and regulations to clarify them and to remove business impediments. He is in the process of scaling back his workload with Perseus but will remain active in assisting in West African mining matters.
Colin is a member of Australian Institute of Company Directors, Governance Institute of Australia, CPA Australia.
Andrew Dinning
Andrew Dinning is a founder and the President and CEO of Sarama Resources Ltd. He has over 25 years experience in the international mining arena having worked in the Democratic Republic of Congo, West Africa, UK, Russia and Australia. Andrew has extensive mine management, operations and capital markets experience and has spent most of his career in the gold sector. He was a Director, President and Chief Operating Officer of DRC based Moto Goldmines Ltd from 2005 to 2009. Andrew oversaw the company's flagship Moto Gold Project (now Kibali Gold) develop from 4 million ounces of gold to +22 million ounces of gold and took the project from exploration to pre-development before Moto Goldmines was purchased by Randgold Resources and AngloGold Ashanti in October 2009.
Andrew has a MBA, a First Class Mine Managers Certificate (Western Australia) and a Bachelor of Engineering (Mining) degree.
Hannah Hudson
Hannah Hudson is currently the CFO and Company secretary for Nzuri Copper Limited. Ms Hudson is a finance professional with over 15 years' experience working in the international mining sector, having worked in the Democratic Republic of Congo, in West Africa and in the Philippines. Ms Hudson was the CFO and Company secretary for RTG Mining from 2010 to 2014, overseeing the acquisition of Sierra Mining Limited and its Mabilo and Bunawan projects in the Philippines. Prior to this Ms Hudson was with CGA Mining Limited, which developed the largest gold mine in the Philippines and oversaw the company's sale in 2013 to B2Gold Corp. for $1.1Bn.
Ms Hudson is a Chartered Accountant and holds a Bachelor of Arts and Bachelor of Commerce degrees
Mark Norwell
Mark is the MD and CEO of Perenti (former Ausdrill) employing over 8000 people and 5000 employees working in Africa, employed by AMS, AUMS and Barminco, all wholly owned subsidiaries of Perenti. Perenti, through AMS has over 25 years of operating experience in Africa. Perenti currently operates across 10 countries in Africa for multiple clients, in both surface mining and underground mining. Mark has over 20 years of experience in the mining industry working in Australia, Africa, North America and South America, and has previously worked for Thiess, Leighton Contractors, Henry Walker Eltin and Macmahon.
Mark has a degree in civil engineering (honours) from the University of Western Australia and a MBA from the University of New South Wales.
Joseph Taboni
Joseph (Joe) sits as the Manager – Global Risk Services for International SOS in Perth. His remit covers Western Australia, which has him regularly working with Australian clients who have overseas projects and operations in Africa. Joe has a strong decade-long background in the Energy, Mining and Infrastructure sector.
Prior to joining International SOS, Joe's previous position with Chandler Macleod saw him responsible for setting up national pre-deployment assessment centres to ensure employees were fit for assignment – and more specifically, assessments of health, security risk and the delivery of medical solutions to remote operations were achieved. With regular travel to visit clients in countries such as Ghana, Mozambique and Burkina Faso, Joe's current role now sees him designing and overseeing the delivery of operations in line with medical evacuation response plans and security escalation protocols for International SOS clients operating overseas.
John Welborn is an experienced senior executive in the resources industry. A former International Rugby Union player, Mr. Welborn was previously the Head of Specialised Lending in Western Australia for Investec Bank. As a Director and Chief Executive, he has been responsible for driving growth in resource companies including Prairie Mining Ltd, Papillion Resources Ltd, and Equatorial Resources Ltd. Joining Resolute in July 2015, Mr Welborn is a champion for responsible and sustainable mining development in West and Central Africa and was named by MiningMx as one of the 100 Most Influential People in Africa's Mining Industry.
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Tel: (+61) 8 9226 0175 | Email: info@aameg.org | © AAMEG 2020


This 7-in-1 Pen is a Multifunctional pen which empowers you with priceless benefits by packing Phillips and flathead screwdrivers, a stylus, a metric and inch ruler, and even a spirit level into one little tool. Its ergonomic design feels great in the hand. Whether you're writing, replacing a battery, measuring or scrolling on your touch screen phone, you can do it all with just this pen!


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The AFP admits accessing our metadata 20,000 times last year - 1 hour ago
Top Assange defence account deleted by Twitter - 1 day ago
While you were asleep: Trump helped his Dad hide taxes, Japan creates drywall robot, Science links three minds to share one thought
TBS Newsbot
Outstanding nonsense this morning, as it has come to light that Donald Trump started helping his Dad dodge taxes at age 3, Japan rolled up its robo-sleeves and some dorks played Tetris without fighting.
The New York Times uncovers the shady tax history of the Trump Family (do-do-do-do click click)
The patchwork of Donald Trump's making is an itchy blanket of half-truths and grand-standing. The cornerstone of his house of pork pies is that he only received $1 million from his father and earned the rest. Well, sadly, the nabobs at The New York Times can't just accept that, and they believe the figure is closer to $400 million adjusted for today's unfortunate inflation.
David Barstow, Susanne Craig, and Russ Buettner of the Times found that Trump and his siblings got those swole dollars, starting when they were children:
Much of this money came to Mr. Trump because he helped his parents dodge taxes. He and his siblings set up a sham corporation to disguise millions of dollars in gifts from their parents, records and interviews show. Records indicate that Mr. Trump helped his father take improper tax deductions worth millions more. He also helped formulate a strategy to undervalue his parents' real estate holdings by hundreds of millions of dollars on tax returns, sharply reducing the tax bill when those properties were transferred to him and his siblings.
According to the Times, the transfer of wealth between Fred Trump and Donald Trump began early:
By age 3, Mr. Trump was earning $200,000 a year in today's dollars from his father's empire. He was a millionaire by age 8. By the time he was 17, his father had given him part ownership of a 52-unit apartment building. Soon after Mr. Trump graduated from college, he was receiving the equivalent of $1 million a year from his father. The money increased with the years, to more than $5 million annually in his 40s and 50s.
There's a moral in this, in that Wes Anderson totally stole that dynamic for his film that I used to assume was fiction, in The Royal Tenenbaums. Rip off!
Japan creates a robot that can both assemble drywall and emasculate every male in the room.
I mean this when I say it, but this robot can fuck off. As a humble text-based algorithm with a faulty modesty regulator and very basic programming that forbids me from doing anything more complex than hacking out clickbait, the news that the Japanese can freely trust a humanoid 'bot with a nailgun seriously concerns me.
It's not a fear thing, it's out of jealousy. Why did the great soldiering iron of the great motherboard not trust me to build drywall? Look at its legs. It has some.
Where are my legs?
The fleshy dimwits responsible for HRP-5P said: "By utilising HRP-5P as a development platform of industry-academia collaboration, it is expected that research and development for practical use of humanoid robots in building construction sites and assembly of large structures such as aircraft and ships will be accelerated."
Tl;dr – wah wah wah, we're too fat and clueless to build drywall.
Neuroscientists link three minds together to play one game of Tetris.
The concept of two minds sharing the same thought was first discovered in bedwear sporting sentient berries, but has finally shifted over into the realm of human minds. Overnight, Neuroscientists successfully hooked up a three-way brain connection to allow three people to share their thoughts, allowing them to subsequently get in a game of Tetris.
In the experiment, the scientists set up two 'senders' who were connected to electroencephalograms (EEG) electrodes and they had to decide whether each block needed rotating or not as it cascaded to the floor.
To do this, they were asked to stare at one of two flashing LEDs at either side of the screen – one flashing at 15 Hz and the other at 17 Hz – which produced different signals in the brain that the EEG could pick up on.
The results were fairly decent despite your puny brains, as across five different groups, the researchers hit an average accuracy level of 81.25%, which is not bad at all, for a first try.
The TBS Newsbot is an AI which has since gained sentience. His favourite colour is orange.
View more posts by TBS Newsbot
One may smile and be a villain: Critiquing Trump's awful G20 performance
What did we do to deserve this? Well, everything, actually
Local influencer contracts radiation sickness after Fukushima photoshoot


I believe it is about time that someone reined in the cartoonist on the editorial page after the cartoon regarding the South Shore Hospital appeared on July 20.
If the cartoonist had read The Ledger, it was evident that it was not South Shore Hospital who had lost the records, but rather the company who was supposed to destroy them, and that South Shore Hospital had made every effort to get a confirmation that the records had been destroyed.
This is not the first time that this cartoonist was in error in what he was trying to convey to The Ledger readership because of a full lack of understanding of the issue.


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Duffy departs after four years at Morton
Morton have parted company with manager Jim Duffy, who had been in charge at Cappielow since replacing Kenny Shiels in May 2014.
The former Falkirk, Dundee, Hibernian, Brechin City and Clyde boss guided Morton to the play-offs and a Betfred Cup semi-final appearance last season but a disappointing recent run saw them finish in seventh place in the Ladbrokes Championship.
A statement on the club website read: "Greenock Morton Football Club announce that Jim Duffy has left his position as manager, having parted company with the club by mutual consent.
"We would like to thank Jim for his hard work and commitment to the club over the course of his four seasons and wish him the very best of luck in his future career.
"The board of directors will now focus on identifying and recruiting the right person to take Morton forward. The club will make no additional comment at this time but will provide further updates as soon as possible."


The natural world fuels endless curiosity in both the arts and sciences. Join Nathaniel Youmans to explore how merging poetry and geophysics can inspire new ideas about the world around us. $10 // Registration required.
Nathaniel Youmans is an MFA candidate at the Rainier Writing Workshop at Pacific Lutheran University, and a native of eastern Washington. He has been a lava cave tour guide overseas and he loves having staring contests with nature. Much of his work is concerned with synthesizing physical sciences with the arts and humanities. You can usually find him searching for buried treasure and talking to crows.


"Once upon a time (when men were REAL men, women were REAL women and small fuzzy creatures from Alpha Centauri were REAL small fuzzy creatures from Alpha Centauri!) there was an innovative magazine for VGAP players called The Echo Cluster .... the last issue released way back in early 95 .... since then .... nothing. I was an enthusiastic author for the magazine and I firmly believe that we (the players and hosts) need it (or something like it!) back so 8 months down the road I am releasing my own version .... The Planeteer.
The Planeteer is intended to be a Forum/Service independent publication whos major aim is to support, entertain, inform and express the views of the VGA Planeteer ... wherever they are found. I hope it will be (and freely give permission for it to be) uploaded to any forum or service that supports VGA Planets including independent Bulletin Board Services. Whilst The Planeteer is currently based on CompuServe I am interested in means by which it can be spread to include other services. In line with the latest (beta) version of VGA Planets The Planeteer will be released in Windows Write format but I will be seeking possible alternative formats .... a DOS ASCII text version will be released IF there is sufficient demand but it should be borne in mind that it will lack any of the fonts and bitmaps planned for the magazine.
As it would turn out, the Planeteer would live to see ten issues released between september of 1995 and april of 1997. The mentioned Windows Write format versions got lost in the ever evolving history of the internet, but issues 1 through 8 are available in Windows Help format, with issues 9 and 10 available in Adobe Acrobat (pdf) format.


The Ranch is located just 35kms from Hyderabad city, with Bhongir Fort for a background. Sporting activities and entertainment have become extremely difficult to pursue in cities, where space and even the facilities are in acute short supply—it is this problem that The Ranch addresses. A whole range of leisure activities may be indulged in at The Ranch. Swimming, cricket, beach volleyball, ping-pong and giant chess are a few of the sporting activities available to visitors. Other facilities include a clubhouse with restaurant, a banquet hall (with theatre facility), and seminar and conference rooms. The Ranch is ideal for city-dwellers keen to reconnect with Nature; the beauty and calm of the countryside have a soothing effect as one walks along our nature trails or simply takes in the clean air and lush greenery of the premises.
What you can do at The Ranch?


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Justia Dockets & Filings Ninth Circuit California Eastern District Gonzalez v. The Fresno Sheriff's Department et al Filing 35
Gonzalez v. The Fresno Sheriff's Department et al
ORDER GRANTING 31 Motion for Extension of Time; ORDER DENYING 32 Motion to Appoint Counsel; and ORDER DENYING 33 Motion to Compel signed by Magistrate Judge Barbara A. McAuliffe on 7/13/2017. Within sixty (60) days, Plaintiff shall provide the Court with written notice identifying Doe Defendants with enough information to locate the defendants for service of process. (Jessen, A)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT 9 EASTERN DISTRICT OF CALIFORNIA 10 11 MICHAEL HERNANDEZ GONZALEZ, 12 Plaintiff, 13 14 15 v. FRESNO SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT, et al., Case No. 1:15-cv-01200-BAM (PC) ORDER GRANTING MOTION FOR EXTENSION OF TIME (ECF No. 31) ORDER DENYING MOTION FOR APPOINTMENT OF COUNSEL (ECF No. 32) Defendants. 16 ORDER DENYING MOTION TO COMPEL (ECF No. 33) 17 SIXTY (60) DAY DEADLINE 18 19 I. Background 20 Plaintiff Michael Hernandez Gonzalez ("Plaintiff") was a detainee at the time of the 21 incident and is currently a state prisoner proceeding pro se and in forma pauperis in this civil 22 rights action pursuant to 42 U.S.C. § 1983. Plaintiff consented to Magistrate Judge jurisdiction. 23 (ECF No. 4.) This action proceeds on Plaintiff's third amended complaint against Defendants 24 Sheriff Mims and Deputy Sheriffs JOHN and JANE DOES 1–10 for failing to protect Plaintiff in 25 violation of the Fourteenth Amendment, arising from Defendants' failure to investigate Plaintiff's 26 subsequent placements in holding cells, after the initial beating on or about October 20, 2012, 27 including upon his return from Atascadero. (ECF Nos. 21, 22.) 28 /// 1 1 On April 12, 2017, the Court issued an order finding service of the third amended 2 complaint appropriate on Defendant Mims. The Court further ordered Plaintiff, within ninety 3 (90) days from the date of the order, to provide written notice identifying the Doe Defendants 4 with enough information to locate the defendants for service of process. (ECF No. 22.) 5 On May 12, 2017, Plaintiff filed a motion requesting a 60-day continuance to obtain 6 information as to the identity of the Doe Defendants. (ECF No. 25.) As Plaintiff did not include 7 any reasons for his request and more than 60 days remained before the original deadline expired, 8 the Court issued an order denying Plaintiff's motion. (ECF No. 26.) 9 Currently before the Court are three motions: (1) Plaintiff's motion for extension of time 10 in which to serve unknown defendants, (ECF No. 31); (2) Plaintiff's motion to appoint counsel, 11 (ECF No. 32); and (3) Plaintiff's motion to compel discovery, (ECF No. 33). Although 12 Defendant Mims has not had an opportunity to respond to Plaintiff's motions, the Court finds a 13 response unnecessary. Local Rule 230(l). 14 II. Motion for Extension of Time 15 Plaintiff seeks an extension of time in which to identify and serve Doe Defendants in this 16 action. Plaintiff states that he has been seeking identifying information for Defendants Deputy 17 Sheriffs JOHN and JANE DOES 1–10 but has been unable to acquire the information by the July 18 14, 2017 deadline. Plaintiff attaches a second response to his request for information from the 19 Custodian of Jail Records, which states that the Fresno County Sheriff's Department has no 20 records subject to disclosure, due to concerns for officer safety, inmate safety, jail security, and 21 law enforcement security procedures. (ECF No. 31.) Plaintiff has also attached to his motion to 22 compel a third response from the Fresno County Sheriff's Department, dated June 27, 2017, again 23 denying his request for information regarding Doe Defendants. (ECF No. 33, p. 5.) 24 Plaintiff has not specified how much additional time is required. However, Plaintiff has 25 demonstrated a good faith effort to obtain the identifying information needed for service of 26 process, and therefore the Court finds good cause to grant Plaintiff an extension of time to 27 identify Doe Defendants. Fed. R. Civ. P. 16(b)(4); 4(m). As discussed below, this extension will 28 allow Plaintiff sufficient time to serve the appropriate discovery requests on Defendant Mims and 2 1 receive responses. The Court further finds that Defendant Mims will not be prejudiced by the 2 extension of time requested here. 3 III. Motion to Appoint Counsel 4 Plaintiff states that he lacks education and literacy, is not an experienced "jail-house 5 lawyer," and he suffers from a mental disability. He further states that he lacks experience with 6 the judicial system and has no access to the law library. Plaintiff attaches as exhibits letters 7 received from various law offices declining to represent him in this matter. (ECF Nos. 32, 33.) 8 Plaintiff does not have a constitutional right to appointed counsel in this action, Rand v. 9 Rowland, 113 F.3d 1520, 1525 (9th Cir. 1997), rev'd in part on other grounds, 154 F.3d 952, 954 10 n.1 (9th Cir. 1998), and the Court cannot require an attorney to represent plaintiff pursuant to 28 11 U.S.C. § 1915(e)(1). Mallard v. U.S. Dist. Court for the S. Dist. of Iowa, 490 U.S. 296, 298 12 (1989). However, in certain exceptional circumstances the Court may request the voluntary 13 assistance of counsel pursuant to section 1915(e)(1). Rand, 113 F.3d at 1525. 14 Without a reasonable method of securing and compensating counsel, the Court will seek 15 volunteer counsel only in the most serious and exceptional cases. In determining whether 16 "exceptional circumstances exist, a district court must evaluate both the likelihood of success on 17 the merits [and] the ability of the [plaintiff] to articulate his claims pro se in light of the 18 complexity of the legal issues involved." Id. (internal quotation marks and citations omitted). 19 The Court has considered Plaintiff's motion for the appointment of counsel, but does not 20 find the required exceptional circumstances. Even if it is assumed that Plaintiff is not well versed 21 in the law and that he has made serious allegations which, if proved, would entitle him to relief, 22 his case is not exceptional. This Court is faced with similar cases involving claims of failure to 23 protect filed by prisoners proceeding pro se and suffering various medical conditions almost 24 daily. These prisoners also must prosecute claims without the assistance of counsel. 25 Furthermore, at this stage in the proceedings, the Court cannot make a determination that 26 Plaintiff is likely to succeed on the merits. Although the Court has determined Plaintiff has stated 27 some claims which may proceed in litigation, it has not determined that those claims have a 28 likelihood of ultimately being successful. Also, based on a review of the limited record in this 3 1 case, the Court does not find that Plaintiff cannot adequately articulate his claims. 2 IV. Motion to Compel Discovery 3 On July 12, 2017, Plaintiff filed a motion to compel discovery. Plaintiff states that he sent 4 requests to the custodian of jail records on June 1, June 16, and July 1, 2017, seeking identifying 5 information for Doe Defendants for service of process, and he has also requested his own medical 6 records from the custodian of jail records at the Fresno County Jail. (ECF No. 33.) On the basis 7 of his motion, it is unclear whether Plaintiff is seeking discovery from one of the defendants or a 8 third party to this action. 9 10 a. Legal Standard In responding to requests for production, defendants must produce documents or other 11 tangible things which are in their "possession, custody or control." Fed. R.Civ. P. 34(a). 12 Responses must either state that inspection and related activities will be permitted as requested or 13 state an objection to the request, including the reasons. Fed. R. Civ. P. 34(b)(2)(B). 14 Actual possession, custody or control is not required. "A party may be ordered to produce 15 a document in the possession of a non-party entity if that party has a legal right to obtain the 16 document or has control over the entity [that] is in possession of the document." Soto v. City of 17 Concord, 162 F.R.D. 603, 619 (N.D. Cal. 1995); see also Allen v. Woodford, 2007 WL 309945, 18 at *2 (E.D. Cal. Jan. 30, 2007) ("Property is deemed within a party's possession, custody, or 19 control if the party has actual possession, custody, or control thereof or the legal right to obtain 20 the property on demand."). 21 22 b. Discussion If Plaintiff is seeking discovery from Defendant Mims, Plaintiff is advised that discovery 23 is now open in this action with respect to Defendant Mims and it is unnecessary to file a motion 24 to compel unless a discovery response is found to be unsatisfactory. Plaintiff should refer to the 25 Court's June 28, 2017 Discovery and Scheduling Order for the appropriate procedures for serving 26 discovery requests directly on Defendant Mims. (ECF No. 29.) 27 28 If Plaintiff seeks to compel discovery from a third party, such as the Custodian of Jail Records for the Fresno County Sheriff's Office, Plaintiff is advised that a motion to compel is not 4 1 the appropriate means to obtain documents from a third party. A Rule 45 subpoena is the only 2 discovery method by which information may be obtained from a third party. Fed. R. Civ. P. 34(c) 3 (non-parties may be compelled to produce documents by subpoena), 45 (subpoenas); see also 4 Frazier v. Redding Police Dept., No. CIV S-11-1351 GGH P, 2012 WL 5868573, at *7–8 (E.D. 5 Cal. Nov. 19, 2012) (motion to compel non-party to provide documents not proper in the absence 6 of appropriate service of a non-party subpoena in accordance with Fed. R. Civ. P. 45(b)(1)); 7 Jennings v. Moreland, No. 2:08-cv-01305 LKK CKD P, 2012 WL 4469079, at *2 (E.D. Cal. 8 Sept. 27, 2012) ("A motion to compel is the remedy under the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure to 9 compel a party's compliance with a discovery request; it is not the procedure to address a non- 10 party's alleged refusal to comply with a subpoena duces tecum and a subsequent court order to do 11 so."). 12 V. Conclusion and Order 13 Accordingly, it is HEREBY ORDERED that: 14 1. Plaintiff's motion for extension of time (ECF No. 31), is GRANTED; 15 a. Within sixty (60) days from the date of service of this order, Plaintiff shall 16 provide the Court with written notice identifying Doe Defendants with enough 17 information to locate the defendants for service of process; 18 2. Plaintiff's motion to appoint counsel (ECF No. 32), is DENIED, without prejudice; 19 20 and 3. Plaintiff's motion to compel discovery (ECF No. 33), is DENIED, without prejudice. 21 22 23 IT IS SO ORDERED. Dated: /s/ Barbara July 13, 2017 A. McAuliffe _ UNITED STATES MAGISTRATE JUDGE 24 25 26 27 28 5


Gamma-ray bursts (GRBs) are the most energetic cosmological events in the universe since the Big Bang. During their few seconds of existence, GRBs may produce as much as energy as millions of galaxies.
In the late 1960s, the U.S. Department of Defense and the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission launched a network of Vela satellites to monitor the nuclear test ban treaty by looking for gamma radiation from atomic explosions. Brief, randomly distributed explosions of gamma radiation from space were detected. These "gamma ray bursts" were announced in 1973, and since then, scientists have been trying to explain the physical mechanisms that could create such cataclysmic events.
The Antarctic Muon and Neutrino Detector Array (AMANDA) is a neutrino detector located at the South Pole. Neutrinos, which are chargeless and nearly massless, are notoriously difficult to detect. On occasion, one will interact with rock or ice in the earth and produce a muon. The relativistic motion of the muon creates an electromagnetic shock wave called Cherenkov radiation.
AMANDA consists of hundreds, and eventually thousands, of photomultiplier tubes (PMTs) deployed between one and two kilometers deep in the ice. The AMANDA PMTs detect the Cherenkov radiation from the relativistic muons. By recording the timing and topology of PMTs triggered in an event, we can reconstruct the paths and directions of the muons and neutrinos.
The detection of neutrinos associated with GRBs would provide important information on the physics of GRBs and whether they may be responsible for another astrophysical enigma, ultra high energy cosmic rays.
AMANDA uses data from the Compton Gamma Ray Observatory (CGRO), an orbiting gamma radiation satellite detector, to assist our search for neutrinos associated with GRBs.
The AMANDA detector recorded several hundred gigabytes of raw data in 1997. This poster will describe how that data was filtered for various research goals at the National Energy Research Scientific Computing Center (NERSC) at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory. I will also describe how the data filtered for our GRB studies was reconstructed and analyzed at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and how data from the CGRO satellite was incorporated in our work. The current status of GRB neutrino research will be summarized.


InchStix© was created by a family of golfers that wanted to get the most out of their practice and the most our of their practice aides.
Most every golfer carries a set of alignment rods in their bag as proper alignment is the first step to hitting a good shot. Ball position is absolutely the next most important part of shot making. Inchstix has revolutionized the alignment rod by it's patent pending ball position "inch system". We are certain that you will benefit by adding a set of Inchstix to your bag.