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October 1979 · Vol. 8 No. 4 · pp. 28–32

In Praise of the Gospel Ministry: A Meditation on 2 Corinthians 4:1-6

David Ewert

The Mennonite historian, C. H. Smith writes in his autobiography, Mennonite Country Boy, that he had seen his father weep on only two occasions in his life: once at the grave of a loved one, the other when he was chosen by his congregation to be a minister. And so it was boldly written upon his youthful mind that death and the ministry must be the two greatest tragedies of this life.

The apostle Paul felt rather differently about his calling to be a minister of the Gospel. “I thank him who enabled me, Christ Jesus my Lord, that he counted me faithful by appointing me to the ministry” (1 Tim. 1:12). And in Ephesians he breaks out in amazement: “To me the least of all saints is this grace given that I should preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ” (3:7-8). There was much in his ministry that might have soured him on his calling: wearisome travels, hunger and thirst, beatings and imprisonment. But even in his prison letters he continues to glory in his ministry of the Gospel.

I should like to expand on some of Paul’s thoughts, expressed in our text, in which he glories in his calling. And I am suggesting that a suitable theme might be: In Praise of the Gospel Ministry.

As we follow Paul in his reflections on this glorious ministry we notice, first of all, its spiritual foundation: “Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God. . . .”

Paul never thought of his ministry as something he had sought after. Nor was it a calling which had been given to him because of his {29} superior goodness or even because of his great native abilities. Of course, without his facility in Greek he could not have been God’s ambassador to the Hellenistic world; without his rabbinic training he would not have found the synagogue doors open to him wherever he went; and without his knowledge of the Old Testament his message would not have been colored so deeply by Hebraic thought.

But after making allowance for all these strands that came to be woven together in a man of extraordinary abilities, the spiritual foundation of his ministry is primary and is to be found in the forgiveness and pardon granted to him on the Damascus Road by the grace of God. When recalling some of the terrible things he had done against the church, he added, “But I received mercy . . . and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me” (1 Tim. 1:12ff.).

Churches and boards and schools may have all kinds of requirements which they would want their ministers to meet—and these all may be legitimate—but unless we can say with Paul that we have this ministry “because we received mercy,” our ministry has no foundation; it lacks underpinnings.

Frederick Franzen, founder of The Evangelical Alliance Mission, thought if a man could play a guitar and lead a soul to Christ he was adequately equipped to be a minister of the Gospel. Others insist that a college or seminary degree is necessary. There never will be complete agreement on what constitutes adequate training for the ministry. Some of the greatest ministers of the Gospel were self-educated. But, training aside, what will sustain us in the Gospel ministry is the knowledge that God’s grace laid hold of us when he called us to be his servants.

It was because he had received mercy, Paul goes on to explain, that he did not grow weary in his ministry. The verb egkakeo means literally “to go bad inside” and so to give way, collapse, give up, “throw in the towel.” To lose heart is a temptation that comes to all of us. Paul met this temptation by falling back on the unshakable conviction that he had been called because of the mercy of God.

There is probably no calling which offers so many opportunities of service, so many challenges, so many burdens to be lifted, so many sorrowing people to be comforted, so many eager youth to train, so many souls to be led to Christ, as does the gospel ministry. And so undoubtedly, there will come to all of you the temptation to grow weary. But as the devotional writer Frederick Boreham counsels, “Don’t call the moving van too quickly.” Remember, we have this ministry by the mercy of God.

In the second verse, Paul points out that there are ethical constraints in the way we carry out this ministry which we receive by grace. {30}

Let me suggest two, using my own words to express what Paul seems to be saying here:

Integrity. “We have renounced hidden things of shame. . . .” It is not quite clear what Paul means by that, whether it refers to sins done in secret or whether he has underhanded methods in mind. From what follows immediately it would seem that the latter is more in focus than the former: “We do not walk about in craftiness, falsifying the word of God.” The Greek word for craftiness is panourgia and means readiness to do anything to achieve one’s ends. Paul says that he has renounced once and for all such cunning in dealing with others. He wants to be known as a man of integrity.

One area in which deceitfulness is particularly reprehensible is in the handling of the Word of God. Whether Paul has the Old Testament in mind, or the Gospel message, or both, is not stated; but what God has said must not be tampered with. No doubt Paul had been charged with tampering with the Word of God, and this is his defence. Even today that charge is very quickly made when someone brings out a truth that the hearers have not encountered before, or puts a traditional interpretation in question, or even when a truth is focused on a problem which some would rather not talk about. No doubt you also will have to face that charge.

However, such a charge will not stick to those who try honestly and sincerely to interpret what God has said. What is more serious is when we twist the words of Scripture in deference to current views or popular opinions. We tamper with the Word of God when we take words and phrases out of context in order to establish some theory or notion of ours. And we tamper with the Word of God when we handle it selectively, elevating some truths and neglecting others. Paul reminded the Ephesian elders that he had proclaimed the “whole counsel of God.”

Admittedly, our understanding of what God has said is partial, and we are all fallible interpreters; we change as our understanding increases, and so have to confess that our interpretations are subject to correction. However, we want to have the witness of our consciences, assuring us that we have handled it with integrity.

Openness. “But by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.” Passion and prejudice are not safe judges of our work; reason cannot always be trusted; even conscience is not infallible, for it may be misinformed. And so Paul appeals to every kind of conscience, to friend and foe and to the dull and perceptive, confident that all will admit that he is free from deceit. But Paul appeals not only to the consciences of men and {31} women but to God himself; for he does his work “before the eyes of God,” who knows everything about him. By the manifestation of the truth we commend ourselves, says Paul, both to others and to God.

“And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled unto those who are perishing. In their case the god of this world blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ who is the image of God.” Though Paul is overwhelmed at the thought that God should have called him by his grace to be his messenger, he is realist enough to know that the ministry is not a bed of roses. The prophets of old, Jesus himself, and also his apostles had to face hostile hearers, many of whom rejected the good news from God.

The message we proclaim may fail to find its mark for various reasons. It may be obscured by our lack of understanding or by our faulty way of presenting it. But that is not Paul’s concern at this point. He is reminding us that to be ministers of the Gospel is to be engaged in a warfare with satanic powers. The god of this world blinds people’s eyes to the light of the Gospel and hardens their consciences so that, like the seed in the parable, the word falls upon hard or rocky soil.

From these painful limitations Paul moves on to describe for us the right attitude one should have as a minister of the Gospel who has been called by God’s mercy.

“For we preach not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” Our servanthood is seen, for instance, in the fact that we do not devise our own message. We are stewards of God’s revelation given to us. To be sure we have to structure our sermons, but the message itself is a given. P.T. Forsyth, a British theologian at the turn of this century, put it thus: “We are in trust of a final revelation and whatever new thing awaits us, it must be a fresh ray from an old faith and a fresh shoot from an old creed.” We are not lords of the Gospel.

Our servanthood should also be manifest in the spirit in which we do our work. “We preach not ourselves.” That probably does not mean that we never say anything about ourselves although I would suggest that we keep that to a minimum also. Paul probably is referring to those self-serving interests which can so easily mar a person’s ministry. When C.S. Lewis became a Christian he became introspective and he wrote to a friend about the terrible things he was discovering in his heart, “And will you believe it,” he writes, “one out of every three is a thought of self-admiration. . . . It’s like fighting the hydra . . . There {32} seems to be no end to it. . . . I am an instrument strung, but preferring to play itself, because it thinks it knows the tune better than the Musician.”

That we also are to consider “ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake,” does not mean servility, for in another passage Paul warns against becoming the slaves of men. Nor does it mean timidity, for if God calls us to lead, to teach, and to proclaim, we need not be obsequious under the guise of humility. We differ in personality, we have our strengths and our weaknesses; but in the long run people will discover whether we are servants for Jesus’ sake, or not.

Finally Paul has a word to say about the glorious message which we have to proclaim.

“For it is the God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness’ who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” Here Paul compares the light which broke forth at God’s command in the first creation to the light which now bursts forth in the Gospel. Paul knew from personal experience what it meant to be dazzled by the light from heaven, and he probably refers to that when he says that God has “shined in our hearts.” Because God called us out of darkness into his marvelous light, we now have the privilege to proclaim the saving acts of this God.

By proclaiming the Gospel we spread “the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.” Because God’s glory was seen in the face of Jesus Christ, we now know what God is like; we can see him in the person of Jesus Christ, and that is good news.

It is unspeakably sad when men and women come to church with God only knows what cares and sorrows and disappointments to be offered the weak tea of pseudo-psychological nostrums instead of the glorious word of God which offers us pardon and hope and life. And so let us not listen to the foolish talk which suggests that for this twentieth century the preaching of the Word is an anachronism. For, writes James Stewart of Edinburgh, “as long as God sets his image on the soul and men are restless till they have rest in him, so long will the preacher’s task persist, and his voice be heard through all the clamor of the world.”

And so we would charge with words of Paul to Timothy: “In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus who is to judge the living and the dead,. and by his appearing and his kingdom; preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching. . . . Always be steady, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry” (2 Tim. 4:1-5).

Dr. David Ewert is Professor of New Testament at Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary, Fresno, California. This meditation was adapted from his address to the seminarians at a June 2, 1979, farewell chapel.

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Food Considerations in Times of Crises: Overview

Millions of voices in the marketplace are all screaming for your business, “Buy this product!” It can get downright tiring and confusing when you're trying to make a choice about which product and service you're gonna use. If you're lucky enough to really know what you want  and why you want it before shopping, then finding the right fit can be fun!

A major offering within the preparedness and self-reliance marketplaces is food and food-storage. I promise to not inundate you with acronyms this time. Suffice it to say, this post-series is designed to accomplish two objectives:

  • To provide a fresh perspective on the principles of food storage
  • Strengthen your understanding of a nutritional food-strategy & the social applications of nutrition

To help you sort out the wheat from the tares, here are some principles regarding food considerations before and during a crisis, when you'll depend upon your food preps & skills to keep you thriving. This content is aimed at principles behind the practice. I'm a believer that practice in peace prompts precision when pressed.

-The Berkey Guy

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The story of Mohammed, Ahmed and Farhad

4 October 2016, 11:29 | Katsika | Commenti: 1

Versione italiana

I’ve been working as a volunteer in the Katsika refugee camp in Greece, where I started writing a journal, since last April. The population of Katsika is made up of Syrians, Iraqis, Afghans, Kurds, as well as multiple other communities. They all got stuck here when the borders were closed, and they now live in tents set up by the Greek army, waiting for their turn, during a very slow registration process. Mohammed also lives in Katsika, with his cousins Ahmed and Farhad, and four others, with whom they share a tent. Telling their story might help the public understand the impact that our immigration policies have on humans, those who are at the receiving end of these policies, the ones that we are so used to overlooking. Yet, these people exist.

Mohamed just turned 18, but he is still 17 years old for the Syrian government. He was born in Qāmishlī, northern Syria, an area of the country with a large Kurdish population.  His dream used to be to become a physicist in the future; his WhatsApp chat with his cousin Ahmed is made of a long list of English words: every time he learns a new English word, he gets his phone out and sends it to Ahmed, saying, don’t worry, Ahmed will definitely be happy to learn it, too. His dream is to go study in Finland, because he read that the Finnish school system is the best for those who would like to study physics — who knows where he got that information? Actually, going to Finland used to be his dream once. Today, his dream would just be to “get out of here”.

Ahmed and Farhad are brothers, and they also come from northeastern Syria, around Qāmishlī. They’re 18 and 19 years old today, and they started their journey a year ago. Their Kurdish identity, their belonging to the largest stateless ethnicity,  was maybe one of the things that most influenced their childhood: they couldn’t speak their language, because “the Arab-speaking kids, or the teachers, may have snitched on us, and if Assad’s police found out about that, nobody would have ever heard of our family again”, tells us Mohammed. Farhad remembers when the teachers once slapped him after she heard him speak Kurdish with a schoolmate: “I still remember her name, Marae.” Ahmed also thinks about this issue, when remembering school: he tells of a massive fight, involving rocks and rods, between Kurdish and Arab boys.

ahfarhAhmed and Farhad as kids

Mohammed’s family, which is a good family, but also a poor one, due to an unwise investment, moves to Damascus and participates in the 2004 protests against the regime, for Kurdish independence. 6-year-old Mohammed sees the police threaten demonstrators with rifles from his window. A few days later, the police surrounds the Kurdish areas of town, tear gassing the streets for a week, ultimately locking people in their homes.

His family decides to flee to Qāmishlī again. At a police checkpoint, the officers see on Mohammed’s mother’s papers that they come from a village bearing an Arab name, which is why they are given right to pass. The village is actually Kurdish, though, it was the Syrian government that had forced them to have an Arabic name on the papers. A few days after the family flees, Assad’s militias attack the area of Damascus that was under siege, and incarcerate all Kurdish males over 18, to torture them with water, and electricity.

2010 sees the start of the Arab spring, and lots of demonstrations in Syria: a lot of Kurds move to Damascus to join them. Assad decides to respond with repression, a few of Mohammed’s friends disappear into thin air. Their fate is still not known today. When civil war breaks out, Mohammed’s family runs off to Qāmishlī again, while their father stays in Damascus. Mohammed becomes the head of the house for three months, despite being only 15 years old: “You grow up faster, in Syria,” he says.

“Finding food or electricity was like a dream back then” On top of all that, the tensions between Arabs and Kurds are also perceived strongly at school, with constant fights between the two groups. Mohammed stops attending school altogether, in the most important school year possible for someone attending the Syrian system. He studies at home, on his own, studies and studies, mostly physics and the English language, but also other stuff. He has to carry on studying in candle light at night. “I was afraid of sleeping because I didn’t know what would happen to me: but all this studying turned me into someone new.” One night, he overhears a voice in his doorway, and he is conscious that it is up to each individual to defend themselves in Syria at this point in time. His mind starts racing, asking in a panic, “what’s going to happen? What’s going to happen?” His mother also wakes up, and starts crying in fear. That’s life during civil war. Then, the voice disappears for a few minutes. Minutes become hours. They will never find out whether it was a thief, a militia man, or who else, but the voice doesn’t come back.

A few days later, the FSA (Free Syrian Army) attacks Qāmishlī. Russians aren’t happy about this, and they start bombing the area, helicopters flying overhead. Mohammed’s house shakes, once again everyone is weeping in fear. The following week, an airstrike hits an area near Qāmishlī where plenty of civilians had gathered to get shelter from the bombings. 25 people lose their lives, 12 of which are Mohammed’s relatives. “One of my cousins died because she ran to her mum when she heard the plane, instead of listening to her sister. She died with her mum.” The area surrounding Qāmishlī goes from Assad-controlled area, to FSA-controlled area, to Jabat al Nusra-controlled area, then Kurdish-controlled area. The city stays under Assad’s control, ISIS start attacking it, every month sees at least 5 car bombings happen.

%d9%a2%d9%a0%d9%a1%d9%a6%d9%a0%d9%a2%d9%a0%d9%a9_%d9%a0%d9%a9%d9%a1%d9%a6%d9%a0%d9%a3Mohammed in Iraq, wearing his favourite sweater: I still haven’t had the heart to tell him that “Ferrari” is misspelt

Ahmed and Farhad’s father is an electrician. When he works outdoors, he always wears a yellow hat, to show military planes that he is a worker, not a militia man, and avoid getting bombed this way. One day, Ahmed hears a mortar shot near his house. They get out to go help their neighbours, but they hear another shot, followed by many others, and they go back home. Ahmed, Farhad and their mother decide to find shelter at an uncle’s house, and while they’re on their way, another mortar shot goes off 20m away from them.

The danger that ISIS gets closer and closer to Qāmishlī becomes more and more concrete. Mohammed’s family decides to flee to Iraq, where they are welcomed, so to say, in one of the worst organised camps ever. Terrible bathrooms, not enough accommodation for all, and the accommodation that does get provided is in tents, in the Iraqi climate. Mohammed finishes his school year in the school that the Iraqi government provided for refugees.

Ahmed and Farhad must cross the Syrian-Iraqi border if they want to join Mohammed in Iraq: the problem is, the border is now closed. While Ahmed, who is still underage, can take the easier way out, for Farhad it might all get more dangerous, as he might get stopped and made to join the Krudish army. This is why he has to make his way around the military checkpoints, and is given a rifle, at one point, to cross the more densely controlled area. “If anyone asks any questions, tell them you’re a Kurdish fighter”, he is told. The entire area they need to cross is where ISIS and Peshmerga fighters are clashing, and Farhad is afraid each time he sees the flashlight of a military checkpoint. Finally, though, he manages to get to Iraq, the last one of the three.

Shortly afterwards, though, ISIS becomes a threat for this area, too. The local Kurdish council has a meeting, both Mohammed and his father add their names to the list, and are given a rifle, waiting for ISIS to come. The international coalition’s intervention changes the development of conflict in the area, though, and ISIS is temporarily pushed back. “There is no future in Iraq — says Mohammed — there is no chance to study or work.” “The only job you can get is that of a soldier, that is the only way to actually get a wage”, adds Ahmed.

Mohammed wants to go to Europe. He discusses the idea at length with Ahmed and Farhad, he wants to get to Germany, or Finland. They get to the conclusion that they want to try. Mohammed’s father doesn’t want to let him go, though, they argue every day — his father thinks that a journey like this will be dangerous, “so many people died”, he says. After months discussing, back and forth, Mohammed threatens his father, “I will run if you don’t give me your permission.” The father tells him “Go, then, but if you die, I will not want to see your body.” Saying farewell to his friends is also not easy: he’s been talking so long about leaving that no one believes he actually will anymore.

Mohammed’s family get in touch with a smuggler, who is connected, according to him, with “the mafia”; the smuggler tells them that he would get them all to Turkey for 350 USD each. Mohammed’s parents sell their house in Damascus, Ahmed and Farhad work for a year and a half to save up the money they need for their trip. The money will not be handed over right away, but when the family actually gets to Turkey. They leave from Dahuk, Duhok in Kurdish, in northern Iraq, where they had fled after ISIS attacked Qāmishlī.

dahukThe starting point of the long journey

The day they leave, a car picks them up at the refugee camp and takes them to a village, where they change cars, and get taken to another village. They will have ridden five different cars by the end, some of them belonging to corrupted police officers. Nobody asks any questions. At one point, they have to stop for the night and are put up in one of the smugglers’ home The following day, Mohammed is asked for more money, as apparently horses will be needed, to cross a river. This turns into an argument, Mohammed calls home and his father tells him to go back. In the end, they manage to agree on an amount in between their two ideas, as a compromise. This won’t be the last time somebody will try to cheat the boys. The last car takes them to the Iraqi-Turkish border, and there they start walking and carry on for two hours, guided by one of the smugglers, who leaves them at one point, saying they have to go to the Turkish army checkpoint. He tells them that that is the first step to getting to Europe, since that will take them to a Turkish refugee camp.

When Mohammed, Ahmed and Farhad get to the army checkpoint, the military points a rifle at them. Mohammed raises his hands, tries speaking English: he doesn’t want them to know he is Kurdish, this might be risky with the Turkish army. Finally, the Turkish officer tells them that he is also Kurdish, they have a laugh, they get taken to base, where they get checked and searched. The army says they have to wait for a truck. In the meantime, locals from the nearby villages, also Kurdish, give them some food. The truck comes three hours later, the military cram 40 people into it, one on top of the other. While driving, all kids cry, one woman feels sick. Luckily, the journey is quite short.

“And that’s how we entered hell”, said Mohammed. Hell is a military camp, where people get piled up into a canteen, sleeping on the floor, using their own jackets as a blanket. “I wish! Getting a spot on the floor to sleep was actually a dream. We were all crammed against one another”, tells me Farhad. One night, despite fearing repercussions, they manage to steal a blanket, which is a lot, when you have nothing. Bread is as hard as a rock, there are no showers. At 7AM everyone gets woken up and they have to go on cleaning duty in the camp. Only those who do the cleaning are allowed to charge their phones. That camp is a base for the Turkish army to attack the PKK, they can hear the bombings. They stay here for eight days, eight terrible days in the hands of soldiers who are always fighting with one another, as they can see.

Every day, 200 people are taken and moved to another camp. While this is technically the army’s task, the soldiers don’t take anyone anywhere before they get a bribe. Since this isn’t legal, the soldiers don’t do that in the base, but on the buses. They stop at a gas station, get everyone off the bus and threaten that they will go back. In the end, they agree on a fee of 15USD each.

The new stop is neither an actual refugee camp, nor a military base: it’s a basketball court, where people have to sleep on the ground, crammed against one another. Families are shown to the court, they are given a blanket, the boys, on the bleachers, get nothing. In the morning, they get a little yogurt, lunch is tomato soup, same as dinner. There are no showers, there are two toilets for men, two for women, there’s always a queue to access them. They cannot charge their phones, if they are caught connecting their mobiles to a plug, their phone gets broken. A boy who has a Kurdish flag on his phone cover has his phone confiscated, after which, the soldier throws it to the ground and proceeds to stamp on it with his feet.

6426bdc3-10ef-4cdf-a554-10c3fe29fd03The basketball court that was used as a camp for displaced people

During the days spent there, Farhad writes poetry to pass the time, Mohammed studies physics, and then he decides to start reading a book, Angels and Demons, by Dan Brown. He reads it, eats it up, convinces himself that the sooner he finishes the book, the sooner he will leave this new, horrible pace. Unfortunately, that is not the case. The procedure follows the date each individual got to the centre. After a week, it should be Mohammed, Ahmed and Farhad’s turn, but when the moment comes, their names aren’t called out. They ask the police, they get reassured: it’s a mistake, “we will call your names this afternoon, and you will leave this shitty camp.” In the afternoon, though, this doesn’t happen. They go back to the police that reassures them once more. This goes on for days, every day is the day they might get called, they get reassured and then never get called. “Every day we were waiting for our turn, it was terrible”, tells me Mohammed. They break a bottle and threaten suicide, if they don’t get called. They are reassured, again, this time by a higher-ranking officer, that tomorrow will be their turn. He does it while squeezing his moustache with his fingers, which is a way to swear on your honour in that part of the world. Once again, though, things don’t work out: half of the group in the camp gets taken away, but Mohammed, Ahmed and Farhad are in the half that is supposed to stay. Finally, somebody suggests bribing the interpreter. They go meet him, shake his hand and pass him 150 Turkish liras, about 50 euro. The following day, their three names are called: Farhad, Ahmed, Mohammed. Mohammed doesn’t even wait to hear his surname and rushes to the door. “You cannot imagine how happy I was to get out of there.” Mohammed talks to his family for the first time in a month: they spent 27 days there, in the end.

Unfortunately, this is not the end of their misfortunes. The truck is supposed to take them to downtown Van, but leaves them in an isolated area in the suburbs instead. They are told that they cannot reach the city centre, as they would get arrested by the police; they are directed to two buses, to İzmir and Istanbul respectively. They are given tickets – which will turn out to be fake. They choose to go to İzmir, as they are acquainted with a smuggler there who has promised to help them make their way to Greece. (This man they met online, though they come from the same area). The bus leaves, in theory towards İzmir , but Mohammed has a feeling that something is not quite right: upon reaching a police checkpoint, the driver looks scared.

Meanwhile, Mohammed falls asleep. He awakes when a man wearing plain clothes and a gun tugs at him.The man searches him; he does not find anything on Mohammed, but he finds hashish and other drugs in small black plastic bags on the bus. The man tells the driver to follow him and makes all refugees get off the bus. They are somewhere in between Muş and Van. They are told that another bus of the same company will pick them up, but no one comes. They end up sleeping in the doorway of a restaurant, huddling together for warmth. They finally decide to rent a share taxi to get back to Van and get their money back. At this point, they are broke: they can only get money from their family once in İzmir. They have no option but to turn to the bus company office in the city centre – yet the employee refuses to refund them. Eventually, they find themselves having to buy new tickets. Juan, a fellow refugee, lends them the money.

20160202_102440Ahmed and Farhad huddle together for warmth, with Juan, who helped them

This time around, they make it to İzmir, where the army stops them and asks who speaks Arabic. Mohammed keeps silent, but Juan volunteers. They are pelted with questions: Where are you going? Why? “Had I been answering them, I would have said: ‘We are going to Greece’, and we would have been arrested and sent to Syria,” Mohammed adds, laughing. “Fortunately for us, this chatterbox was sleepy,” Farhad comments. In İzmir, they manage to get in touch with the smuggler, who meets them at the bus station. After picking them up, he takes them to his place, telling them that they are now “part of his family”. “Liar!” Ahmed remembers. For the first time in days, they get to shower and wear clean clothes. “We feel renewed,” says Mohammed.

“As soon as we get the all clear, I’ll take you to the shore”. Six days pass, during which Mohammed, Ahmed, and Farhad live with the smuggler, spending their time and eating with his family. Mohammed only leaves the place once, to go buy a tire. The smuggler recommended doing that: you can swim better with one of those than you can with a life jacket. On the sixth day, the smuggler suddenly comes home saying “It is time. Run.” They get on a car, which takes them to another place, crowded with people ready to make the same trip across the sea. The smuggler leaves, saying he is going to check on the boat and bribe the police. “Do not discuss the price of the ‘service’ with anyone,” is the only warning he gives them. When he comes back, he loads them on a truck, five at a time, to avoid unwanted attention. They ride for 4.5 hours, packed like sardines and curled in fetal position. Within short distance, three rented taxis scour the streets for any trace of the police. They arrive at a village west of İzmir, whence a small lifeboat will take them to a larger boat. It’s 2 a.m.

They wait for two hours, until the Turkish Coast Guard finish inspecting the area. They get onto the boat via the lifeboat, which then goes back to pick up more people. As it is making its way back, it begins sinking. Its passengers throw their belongings overboard and swim to the larger boat. One girl cannot swim: her father, who was already on board, jumps in the water to save her. Fortunately, he catches her in time. Several people are still on land, prompting the smugglers to abort the mission.They take the boat closer to land and order everyone to jump into the water. Then the smugglers get away to avoid been found there by the police. For the same reason, the refugees leave the beach, climb a nearby hill, and light a fire to dry off. Mohammed, Ahmed, and Farhad go without food, in the cold, for 24 hours. They steal some oranges from a hotel, and after hours of waiting, they resolve to take a van to İzmir . Once in İzmir they take a taxi, have the taxi driver talk to the smuggler, who directs them to a street far from his house so as not to be identified. As they get off the taxi, the smuggler is there.

5220b6b0-b94f-4169-bbb5-206b2c03dfd4People leaving the spot where they had had to light a fire to warm up

Four days later, it’s time for a new attempt, at 7 p.m. They quickly leave the smuggler’s house to a different place, where they are loaded on a truck in groups of five. This time, however, the truck jolts to a halt. They see the driver open the door and run away, they catch a flashing light and hear a siren. They all jump off the vehicle and run, run, run, hiding in the alleys. The other truck has been stopped, and its passengers are now in a Turkish prison, but they will not hear about this until later. They go back to the house of the smuggler, as they have before. “We were losing hope,” Mohammed says. The smuggler also warns them — this will be the last attempt. Should it fail, he will give up and refund their money. “We had a guarantee that the smuggler would not betray us or steal our money: his family is from Qāmishlī, so we knew them”.

The third time works out. This time around, they gather in a different place, as the old one has come to the attention of the police. The truck travels further, as to avoid the police. They get off in the same place as the first time. A sturdier lifeboat takes them to a larger boat. At this point, the smuggler leaves. The weather is horrible, extremely windy and rainy, with a rough sea. “I was so scared. People were praying,” Mohammed says. Among high waves, they change course multiple times. “My brain looked at water and saw land, and land seemed immensely closer than it actually was,” he adds. They call the smuggler, who tries to provide directions. In the distance, they see a city, and closer, an island, towards which they direct their course, in the dark. Then the island disappears from view.

Mohammed and Ahmed sit at the bow, water splashing their faces. They can neither move nor walk, as people are distributed so that the boat stays upright. When someone stands up, everybody else yells at him to sit down, “before you kill us all.” They see a different rocky island and plan on mooring there, but the light of a torch (which Mohammed brought along for no specific reason) shows there is nowhere to dock. The bay they are aiming for is just a bunch of rocks, into which they just avoided crashing. By now, the smuggler’s phone has been turned off: they are on their own. Over the following hour, they seek somewhere to dock, with the help of the torch, whose battery is running out quickly. The waves rock the boat, and the sun begins to rise. They come to the conclusion that they must “try at the other island, before daylight”.

wp_20160607_18_28_20_proMohammed posing with the flashlight that saved them

The passengers cry and yell “We are going to die!” as the boat goes through a narrow passage. They are not quite through when they see a much larger boat coming towards theirs. Many shriek; they are scared they are going to crash. They decide to switch the engine off. The waves from the larger boat almost capsizes theirs. The engine is switched back on; they are closer to land. Life jackets start floating around them: this is a good sign, they must have been discarded by a previous group of refugees. Someone calls the Red Cross from their phone, then hands it to Mohammed, who speaks English: “Help us get there!”. They make it to the shore. They are now on the island of Chios, Greece, Europe. Some jump into the water in order to drag the boat and help everyone else. Mohammed is the last off, after helping women and children onto land. He finally takes his jacket and socks off and gets into the water: “I was just so, so happy”.

When they speak again with the Red Cross staff, they are told they will have to go back to Turkey. The area is isolated, people are scared: “oh God, are they seriously taking us back to Turkey?”. A boat is approaching quickly, and the crew tell them, in Turkish, to come on board. People run off. “I was not going to run,” Mohammed says, “I knew Turks are not allowed onto Greek land”. That was a NATO boat, with a Sudanese, French, Danish, and American crew, “like a cocktail mix,” Mohammed laughs. They are taken to the town of Chios. Their names are recorded; they are given a map. They buy a bus ticket to the harbour and a ferry ticket to Athens.

After a 24 hour ferry ride, they reach Athens, whence buses take them to Katsika refugee camp and leave with no explanation. “Shit! A tent camp,” Ahmed comments. They get off the bus. “As soon as we are there, we are lined up, given a white card, and directed to a tent. The tent is empty apart from three sleeping bags.” They thought it would be a matter of days; six months later, they have not left the camp. The borders are still closed.

Translated by Paola Natalucci and Annika Gialdini

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Electronic Saviors

Electronic Saviors:Rejuvenation Comic Book + Digital Soundtrack (Pre Order)

We are proud to partner up with Creamy Rat Studios and Synthcore Dreams to present the very first Electronic Saviors Comic Book. This is an independent work that has been in the making for 2 years. With cover art by Jeff Confer, Scott Robinson and Federico Pepito Sioc Jr. and Interior line art by Zoran Jankovic, this book will be an instant collectible. Each comic will come with a download code for the soundtrack which will be mastered by Chase Dudley of Boxed Warning.. The track list is below:

  1. W.O.R.M.-Warzone (Smash Cancer Mix)

  2. Haunted Echo-Dirty Dirty (Feat Wendi Hughes)

  3. Project .44-Chemical Smile

  4. Billy Virus-Black Summer

  5. Uber Driver-Robot Spiders (Cold War Mix)

  6. Unity One-Tomorrow (Massiv in Mensch Remix)

  7. Vincent Nuit-A Glimpse From the Future

  8. Surviving Thee Oddyssey-Distressing

  9. Self Implied Restriction-Paper Lilies

  10. DisgraceD-Salute

  11. Debra Guy-Take a Compliment (This Hollow Machine Remix)

  12. Larva-No Soy Yo

  13. TH Inc-SRM ‘77

  14. Quizzical Notion-Sanctuary

  15. Y-Luk-O-Maschinen

  16. Nousia-Piedra

  17. Vellocinate-Undimensioned

Add To Cart


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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6
TimelinePreviousNextYour View

The Apple

Series : The Original Series Rating : 1
Disc No : 2.2 Episode : 39
First Aired : 13 Oct 1967 Stardate : 3715.3
Director : Joseph Pevney Year : 2267
Writers : Max Ehrlich Season : 2
Guest Cast :
Celeste Yarnall as Yeoman Landon
David Soul as Makora
Dick Dial as Lieutenant Kaplan
Eddie Paskey as Lieutenant Leslie
Jay Jones as Lieutenant Mallory
Jerry Daniels as Lieutenant Marple
Keith Andes as Akuta
Mal Friedman as Hendorf
Shari Nims as Sayana
Stunts :
Bobby Clark as Native stunt double
Julie Johnson as Landon's stunt double
Paul Baxley as Native stunt double
Ron Burke as Native stunt double
Vince Deadrick as Native stunt double
Moral :
Freedom : Freedom is vital, whether you realise it or not
Paradise : Sometimes it should come with a health warning
YATI : Landon says at one point that the planet would be a paradise without Vaal. I don't know about you, but my vision of paradise does not include exploding rocks and highly poisonous plants.
Great Moment : Spock getting shot by poison darts, zapped by a force field and struck by lightning all in the space of a few minutes. The guy really earns his day's pay on this mission!
Body Count : A bad day for the redshirts : Hendorf is killed by a poisonous plant shooting him, Kaplan is vapourised by a lightning strike, Marple is clubbed to death by a native, and Mallory is blown up by an exploding rock! Spock is not killed, but is shot by the poison plants, nearly blown up by a rock, and almost hit by lightning.
Factoid : This episode features one of Kirk's several violations of the prime directive.

This is one of the foremost contributors to the "Redshirt death" meme of Star Trek lore. Of the four red shirted security personnel who accompany the landing party, one is killed by a poison plant, one is killed by lightning, one is blown up by an exploding rock, and one is killed by a native.

This episode gives us an idea of how much it costs to train a Starfleet officer. When Kirk asks if Spock knows how much Starfleet has invested in him in this episode, he gives a figure of about 122,000 - credits, presumably.

The original script called for the ship to use an emergency saucer separation. This was dropped for budget reasons, although there is a line of dialogue about jettisoning the warp nacelles if needed. Saucer separation would, of course, be a feature of Star Trek : The Next Generation.

The Enterprise is visiting the planet Gamma Trianguli VI. A landing party finds the planet to be a paradise, with a planetwide warm climate. However, a call from Scotty on the ship brings trouble - the ship is experiencing a minor problem with the antimatter pods, possibly related to abnormalities in the magnetic field of the planet itself. Spock's tricorder detects underground vibrations coming from all directions, vibrations which he thinks are artificially produced. As the landing party scouts around they detect a life form nearby, apparently somebody watching them.

They proceed towards a nearby village, but along the way the planet offers up a few surprises. A rock explodes when tossed to the ground; a plant fires poison darts; a freak storm suddenly blows up and Spock is struck by lightning. It appears that Gamma Trianguli VI is not so pleasant a place after all!

Meanwhile on the Enterprise, the problem becomes worse - the antimatter pods have become completely inert, as if some external force had extinguished them. Without main power the ship is all but helpless and unable to beam the landing party up.

They reach the village, although two of the landing party are killed on the way by the planets strange dangers. Kirk manages to capture the native who is watching them, and they demand to know what is going on. The man claims to be the "leader of the feeders of Vaal." They continue on to the village with the man, who is named Akuta. He agrees to take them to Vaal - which proves to be a giant stone head reminiscent of a reptile. The head is surrounded by a powerful forcefield, making any approach impossible. They go back to the village to rest. Kirk notes that there are no children there - prompting confusion from the natives, who apparently have no idea what children are. Vaal, they say, has forbidden men and women to touch one another, and there is no reproduction allowed - much to McCoy's disgust. The Doctor scans the people and finds every one of them to be in perfect health, without any sign of ageing amongst them.

Vaal calls the villagers, and they bring supplies of food to place inside the head - the forcefield apparently allowing them in to feed their god. Kirk ponders whether Vaal might become weaker if it is denied the regular influx of food. Kirk and McCoy seem determined to destroy Vaal, claiming that it is stifling the right of the natives to a "free and unchained environment" and any chance to grow and develop as a culture. Spock warns that they are simply applying human standards to a culture which they may not apply to - the villagers surely have the right to choose a system that clearly works to provide them with long term stability.

Scotty reports that they are detecting a steady decrease in Vaal's power readings, possibly a result of the food being used up. He is working to boost the output of the ship's impulse engines, though this will take a good eight hours to accomplish. In not much longer than that the ship will fall into the atmosphere and burn up.

In the village, two of the natives observe Chekov kissing one of his female comrades and become curious as to what it is like. This apparently angers Vaal, who communicates with Akuta to tell him to kill the landing party. Vaal provides instructions on how to use violence, and the natives mount an attack. However, although one of the Enterprise crew is killed the natives are quickly defeated.

Scotty manages to complete his modifications and boost the ship into a slightly higher orbit, but he only gains an extra hour or so. Kirk decides to starve Vaal in an attempt to weaken it, and then orders the ship to direct a phaser barrage at the force field around it. Vaal is forced to expend its remaining energy to defend against the attack, and becomes inert. Without the field affecting the ship, full power is quickly restored.

Kirk tells the natives that the Federation will provide them with assistance until they can cope with life on their own. Although Spock expresses some concern with their actions the Captain is happy at the outcome, and the ship proceeds on course.

This is one of those episodes where a potentially interesting premise is buried under too much silliness. The idea of whether it is really a good thing for a culture to live in a "perfect" state is an interesting one - the Vaal villagers don't age, suffer no illness or death, never go hungry, know no pain, no fear, no jealousy, no hatred. They have exactly what most people want - and yet, without anything to strive for, without anything to overcome, are they really even living at all? Perhaps not. On the other hand do Kirk and McCoy even have the right to make that judgment on their behalf? The villagers clearly want to live the way they do, they are not being compelled to do so. Is it really up to Kirk to tell them that they can't?

Imagine the following scenario : an alien race arrives at the Earth tomorrow. After some examination of the planet, they announce that computer technology on Earth represents an overall negative effect on human culture. They then proceed to blast every computer in the world to pieces, and forbid us from ever building another. You'd be pretty pissed off, right? Right. Of course, the complicating factor here is that Vaal is actively trying to destroy the Enterprise throughout. But then, we are frequently told that Starfleet officers pledge to give up their lives rather than violate the Prime Directive. Only they rarely actually do so, in practice. A rule followed more in the breach than the observance, as it were.

Still, at least the episode does depict this as a genuine dilemma by having Spock provide the other point of view and show us a little debate about it. No bad thing.

On the downside, much of the tension is generated by contrived means. The planet is littered with arbitrary dangers that make little sense. Exploding rocks? Poison dart plants? Random anti personnel lightning? It's only really there to give us a little action, and none of it makes any real sense. It is funny to see Spock taking the hits again and again, though, so at least there's that!

Special Edition

The remastered version has the usual improved effects, better planet, etc. Notably, the ship fired red phaser beams in the original episode - these have been corrected to the blue-white beams more commonly seen in the original series.
Copyright Graham Kennedy Page views : 21,316 Last updated : 31 Jul 2017


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Should I Hire a Running Coach? (with Video)

Recently, a member of our Facebook group asked a question about knowing when he should hire a running coach.

As a running coach, I honestly feel like there is no “right time” for deciding to work with a coach. I think that all runners, from brand new to seasoned vets, can benefit from working with a coach. But it’s important to also realize that not every coach is the right fit for each runner.

So in this video, I go into a little more depth about helping you answer the question of whether or not you’d like to work with a coach.

And if you’re interested in possibly working with me, let’s chat soon!

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Cops and Slobbers

Posted by Nerilie Watson on 5 September 2010 | 2 Comments

Tags: ,

In the true spirit of jail house rock, join us for Cops and Slobbers - organised to celebrate 75 years of the Dogs' Refuge Home in Shenton Park.

Featuring the Police Commissioner's band - 'The Filth' and a special performance by Divinyl's rock legend, Mark McEntee. Co-patron of the Refuge, Melanie Greensmith of Wheels and Dollbaby will also be adding her own inimitable frock rock style.

So join us for a great night - and help Perth's homeless dogs.

Tickets are only $45 (including finger food). Drinks at special prices.

Book your tickets now by clicking on the "Buy Now" link below

Stickers will be posted to all ticket holders closer to the event to wear for entry on the evening.

Got a question about Cops and Slobbers? Send us an email.

Cops and Slobbers is proudly supported by

City Farmers

Post your comment

  • Hi Lizzie
    There are limited tickets on sale, so if they sell out beforehand then there won't be any tickets for sale on the night. I recommend that you get your tickets as soon as possible.
    Thanks, Nerilie

    Posted by Nerilie Watson, 01/10/2010 8:14pm (8 years ago)

  • Hi
    Will tickets be available on the door?

    Posted by Lizzie Keys, 30/09/2010 3:54pm (8 years ago)

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Focusrite Liquid Channels rack up sales

Published: Mon September 19, 2005  News Feed

Who said hardware was dead?! Rather than cutting down on gear, some studios are racking it up across the globe…

Wherever you work, be it in a small project studio or a multiplex of
post-production suites, the computer has made more of an impact than any other studio device over the last 20 years. With it comes cheap software that emulates just about everything in your studio so, increasingly, less and less hardware is being used. However evidence is growing that it’s not all doom and gloom on the solid stakes and that some installations are bucking the trend and actually upping their hardware intake!

Steve Honest’s New Music Production studio has just seen the arrival of not one but eight Focusrite Liquid Channels, an entire rack’s worth in fact. He has worked with everyone from Kathryn Williams to Billie Ray Martin and also recently engineered the DJ Easy Remix for the new Texas Single, Getaway, but even with that many clients does Steve really need eight Liquid Channels?

“I know it sounds a bit extravagant if not a little loony,” says Steve, “but they give me the most flexible front end for Pro Tools that I can fit into 16 units of rack! I can offer my clients an SSL front end, or perhaps Neve or maybe Trident, or perhaps something a little more boutique. I can put the most appropriate dynamics across any of these inputs, all at the push of a couple of buttons – I don’t even have to put my tea down! It’s a dream set up as the replicas sound like the units they are emulating and I can use the EQ and harmonics to get it right where my clients wants it to be.”

So with eight units Steve can produce any set-up he wants for any task he wants…
“I have used the Liquid Channels on every project that comes through the door, in one capacity or another: tracking, vocal compression, bass compression, mastering, you name it, it’s had at least one, if not eight Liquid Channels on it.”

And Steve is not alone. Bigger facilities are racking these emulation units up if only to negate the need for so much classic hardware. Over in Frankfurt, Harald Guhn from Fundamental Studios, one of Germany’s biggest post production facilities – responsible for producing film and TV trailers for some of the biggest companies in the world, including O2, Chevrolet, Nestle and Opal – already has three new Liquid Channels as they help workflow for so many projects…

“We do commercials and films but the ad work is quite fast and you cannot foresee what happens next with a client,” Harald explains. “They may request something unexpected and often ask for something at the last minute. So when you can switch between productions easily or just switch between projects and setting of a preamp it makes it much easier to deal with.”

Harald is so struck on this way of working that he wants more, and he even wants to outdo Steve’s record eight Liquid Channels!
 “We are working in seven studios simultaneously and I need two Liquid Channels for each studio! If I had two in each of them I would lose all of the other preamps I work with.” So that’s 14 in total and that’s the record so far!

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Click on play button to listen high quality(320 Kbps) mp3 of "Lacrim - A.W.A". This audio song duration is 2:43 minutes. This song is sing by Lacrim. You can download Lacrim - A.W.A high quality audio by clicking on "Download Mp3" button.


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Why Choose an Acoustic Consultant with Dragonfly Consulting?

Dragonfly Consulting employs friendly, motivated and hard working Acoustic Consultants, who are dedicated to the job and our clients. Each and every one of our employees works tirelessly to ensure customer satisfaction.

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Eclipse Phase: Transhuman (first edition)
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Eclipse Phase: Transhuman (first edition)

Transhuman is the expanded guide to Eclipse Phase for both players and gamemasters, containing:

* Package-based character creation
* Random life path character creation
* Get more out of flexbots, swarmanoids, asyncs, and infomorphs with expanded rules and options
* Make better Firewall agents with advice on investigation, combat tactics, espionage, and infiltration
* Over 30 new morphs, new traits, and new character backgrounds

Transhuman Previews

Package Character Creation

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Check out the Transhuman Hack Pack for a selection of artwork from the book!

Eclipse Phase Second Edition Compatibility:
This is a title that was released for the First Edition of Eclipse Phase, and contains heavy rules material. We consider it incompatible with Eclipse Phase Second Edition, and the material in it will be replaced by EP2 releases.

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September 13th, 2013
An incredibly useful add-on for the Eclipse Phase Line this offers options to simplify character creation while adding additional options and expanding the world base. The book itself is well written with gorgeous art and benefits from an involved deve [...]
August 16th, 2013
This book is possibly the most useful one to come out in the line since the initial rulebook. It contains new options for character creation, new backgrounds (including options for AGI and Uplifts that differ from the standard), new factions, new morph [...]
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August 10th, 2013
Eclipse Phase is one of my favorite games, but I'm not beyond admitting that it has its faults, some of them pretty serious. For one thing, although there was a great range of morphs and the game really felt like it vibrantly embraced the question of [...]
August 9th, 2013
If you already like Eclipse Phase, you'll like this. The short fiction is well-written and fascinating, the artwork is stunning and the new lore and rules they bring to the table in this book will almost certainly contain something that interests you, [...]
August 7th, 2013
Another stunning book by Posthuman! If you happen to be one of the many who had misgivings over how involved the PC generation of Eclipse Phase was in the Corebook, Transhuman provides not ONE but TWO fixes! One involves putting together [...]
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For printed books, we have performed high-resolution scans of an original hardcopy of the book. We essentially digitally re-master the book. Unfortunately, the resulting quality of these books is not as high. It's the problem of making a copy of a copy. The text is fine for reading, but illustration work starts to run dark, pixellating and/or losing shades of grey. Moiré patterns may develop in photos. We mark clearly which print titles come from scanned image books so that you can make an informed purchase decision about the quality of what you will receive.
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The Rifter® #32
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The Rifter® #32

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The Rifter is a vehicle to numerous Palladium role-playing worlds. It is a tool for Game Masters and players alike. A place to showcase new talent and exchange ideas for the entire Palladium Megaverse. Every issue, unique and informative.

Issue numver 32 presents optional new monsters and O.C.C.s, new weapons, Splicers material, and adventure galore. Plus news, our convention schedule. X-Mas gift ideas, coming attractions, and our latest catalog of Palladium products. unleash your imagination.

  • Palladium Fantasy RPG - Part Two of the evpic adventure, Quest for Castlrake.
  • Splicers - new O.C.C.s, gear and adventures.
  • Rifts - Preparing Mega-damage animals for food.
  • Beyond the Supernatural/Tome Groesque Sneak Preview & Adventure.
  • Phase World: The Hammer of the Forge.
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This area of the website contains details of staff cover further to absence and is only accessible by DHFS teachers and staff.

If you have authorisation to view this information, please login to the school system using your school-issued username and password.

When outside school, please remember to prefix your username with " dronfield\ " (don't forget the backslash) so the school system recognises that you are dialing-in from outside.

Unfortunately, if you do not have a username and password that has been issued by the school, you cannot view the contents of this page.

We apologise for the inconvenience and hope you enjoy the publicly accessible areas of the website.


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Malcolm & Jillian are now writing new material here. Please join us, and thank you for reading!

Norte #33 was a Doozy

I am typing this from the one room in the house that has power, after getting socked for the last 24 hours with one of the most powerful nortes I have ever seen. The waves were breaking on people’s houses, and our neighbor’s house was covered in foam that was being spit up from the ocean. We drew the blinds, put on an episode of Gilmore Girls, stuck our fingers in our ears, and were content to pretend none of it was happening, until we lost power on one side of the house. We still have the house with computers and television, but not the side with, oh, water.

While we wait for CFE to show up, here is a (somewhat crappy) video I shot yesterday, in the storm. Enjoy!

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Malcolm & Jillian are now writing new material here. Please join us, and thank you for reading!

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When Mexico is adorable it is wonderfully so. Children chasing chickens in the yard, festivals of colors and lights and saints, spontaneous parades, palm trees, colonial architecture and cheap delicious street food are all undeniably very good things. But when Mexico is awful*, it is terribly so. We’ve discussed how there is not really anything [...]

1Mar2010 | | 5 comments | Continued
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That’s Debatable: A Person of Interest

This house maintains that living abroad makes you a more interesting person. Pro To live abroad successfully you have to be adaptable and open to new ways of thinking. Your worldview is cracked wide open, if not totally destroyed and forced into a new configuaration. It’s a symbolic death, such as one experienced by the [...]

19Feb2010 | | 1 comment | Continued
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Waiting For My Man

We’ve had one norte after the next blowing through our port, the skies are opaque gray and all the Yucatecans and casi Yucatecans are bundled up and battened down. We drove into Progreso to run errands while the help leveled rubble and planted and washed our pots and pans. I picked up our laundry and [...]

17Feb2010 | | 1 comment | Continued
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The Misfits

What if I’ve become too strange to go back? strangerinastrangelandyoucantgohomeagainpeoplearestrangewhenyoureastrangertheresnoplacelikehome These are the fleet streaming thoughts that pluck me out of sleep at four am. itsabanditsthatarthurmillermarilynmonroemoviehesthemaniaccharacterinagoodmanishardtofind But I wouldn’t say I’m too terribly anxious. Not like the months leading up to leaving. I was a wreck, all panic attacks and acting out. Going home is [...]

16Feb2010 | | 2 comments | Continued
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The Reckoning: Verbal Skills and Communication

Language Lab Most of the Spanish that I speak, I learned my first six weeks in Mexico. I bounded into the English library like a puppy, and in the eyes of the cranky ancients, smoking and mouldering amid the stacks, must have seemed like one about to piddle on the carpet. I signed up for [...]

8Feb2010 | | 1 comment | Continued
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Searching for the American Dream…in Mexico

I just wanted to call everyone’s attention to this little nugget, which appeared in New American Media: “MERIDA, Mex. – At some point last fall, the one millionth American established residency here in Mexico. That makes Mexico the host nation for the largest American expatriate community in the world. There are now more Americans living [...]

31Mar2009 | | 1 comment | Continued
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Everybody Seems to Wonder What It’s Like Down Here

it’s not as difficult or as easy to live in Mexico as I imagined I have seen exactly three scorpions in three years don’t bother eating the Chinese food you will not immediately lose 30 pounds I still don’t have a good doctor insurance is cheap labor is cheap quality furniture is not cheap and [...]

18Mar2009 | | 7 comments | Continued
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Bad Expat: Changing My Marketing Strategy

I knew there was a mercado in Chelem but I never went inside until today. Waiting for the combi in the heat of early afternoon in centro you can smell sun-drenched entrails, past-peak produce and the overwhelming scent of ripening flowers. I would watch repelled, the lazy dogs that lay in wait for discarded scraps [...]

17Mar2009 | | 2 comments | Continued
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America loves a monolithic enemy. What united a disparate and fledgling colony better than big bad daddy Britain? When were we more American than when we were facing off against Russia? Since the Cold War ended (it’s been sooo boring, right?) the focus on The Middle East and Islam has been a fairly successful stand-in. [...]

16Mar2009 | | 5 comments | Continued
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Time Passes

The expat is self-involved, due to the nature of his adventure. Life back home is mundane, the same, but here we are out exploring, peering over the edge, rounding the cape to seek new horizons. We are consumed with what we are encountering for the first time, navigating, processing and becoming engaged in unfamiliar surroundings. [...]

11Mar2009 | | 2 comments | Continued
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Sunday at the Marina with Malcolms

8Mar2009 | | 1 comment | Continued
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Call Off “The Hounds of Zaroff” We Just Want To Play!

The blogosphere is abuzz with voices across Mexico defending their adopted country. I couldn’t agree more with the chorus of sanity. Don’t let the fear mongers get you down. And though I don’t know what will happen tomorrow I can say for today that the United States of Mexico has not failed, narco-banditos are not [...]

4Mar2009 | | 4 comments | Continued


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D-‘s Pierogi Place

  • A wide selection of Eastern European Foods

    We offer 24 different varieties of pierogi, potato pancakes, stuffed cabbage rolls, halushki, and Polish sausage sandwiches.

    Come Here Often?

    Ask at the register for a frequent buyer card; collect 12 punches then on your 13th visit, you will receive $5.00 off your bill. Don’t forget to start over with a new card on your next visit.

    Do you have a large lunch order for your company? Contact us ahead of time and we’ll deliver it in time for lunch! Please give 24 hours notice in order for us to prepare your fresh hot D-‘s Pierogi Place meals. We will deliver to your house or business free of charge as far as […]
  • Featured Foods

  • Welcome

    D-‘s Pierogi Place LLC is an unique business specializing in Eastern European foods, handmade on location so you’ll always have a fresh, authentic meal every time you visit us. We are bringing the taste of Europe right to your plate. Located inside a car wash, one can find inside hot foods that can be eaten in, taken out, or have it delivered, along with a bakery, a deli counter, and a grocery store. Conveniently located on East Church Street between the Southern Tier Expressway (Exit 56) and St. Joseph’s Hospital, we offer 24 varieties of Pierogi, stuffed cabbage rolls, potato pancakes, halushki, and Polish sausage sandwiches. Look for our flags flying near the road.

    Read More »

  • Our Latest News

    Christmas Orders

    November 28, 2017
    Now taking orders for Christmas until 12/16 – bakery items, pierogi, kielbasa, groceries .  Call 733-3200 to order.  Call early due to limited

    School Year Routine

    September 15, 2017
    If the school year routine is now part of your schedule – afterschool activities, sporting events, homework, etc – and you don’t hav

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Theatres and Cinemas in Tallaght, Dublin

Browse our directory of Theatres and Cinemas in Tallaght, Dublin by selecting from the links below:

Map showing Theatres and Cinemas in Tallaght, Dublin

Click on an icon to see full details of that listing, or scroll down to view all listings.

IMC Cinema - Tallaght

The Square Shopping Centre, Tallaght, Dublin 24
Read more about IMC Cinema - Tallaght | View Map of Area

Civic Theatre

The Square, Tallaght, Dublin 24, Ireland, D24 NWN7
The Civic Theatre, opened in March 1999, a project of South Dublin County Council and also grant aided by the Department of Arts, Heritage, Gaeltacht and the Islands.
Read more about Civic Theatre | View Map of Area

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As in all these blog posts, any pictures below are all linked to full-sized versions.

This is not some made-up story about my youth. I vividly remember the smell of the air, the time of year, the chirping birds in the trees, the swamp coolers humming on the roof of the house, and the time of day. I recall the colors of the molded plastic dinosaurs, their heft, and the details, like the way their skin folded at the curves of their bodies. I remember the smell of the dirt, the color of it, the powdery texture and moist, cool feel of it. I remember how deep the hole I dug seemed – it was probably a foot deep or so – but it seemed significantly deeper to me, deep enough to contain clues to the mystery of who we all are, and where we came from. I was digging the world navel, a kiva, a passageway to the innermost secrets of the nature of who we are. But in my innocent naiveté, I thought I was only digging a hole to hide a clue for some future scientist to be grateful for.

View of ranch to west from top of mill

My dad was a turkey rancher, so we lived on the ranch that his parents had settled in the early 1900's. It was summer in the high desert, the Mojave Desert of Southern California, so yeah, it was hot. There was an incongruous lawn under the shade of six or eight Chinese elm trees, and it emitted its own localized, low pressure, high humidity weather system, a micro-microclimate. The whole place was shuttered and quieted by the early morning heat, except for the sparrows in the elm trees, and the hum of the swamp coolers on the roof. The smell of hot, humid desert – petrichor – hung in the air. There would be thunderstorms later in the day.

This was during the glory days of prizes inside cereal boxes, the mid-1960’s. While listening to excited anchor men gush about the latest Apollo mission to the moon, (we hadn’t yet planted a flag on that far-distant body), or the latest news of casualties from Viet Nam, (the body count was always much higher on their side than ours, so we were obviously winning), you could open a box of Apple Jacks, All Stars, or Frosted Rice, grab one of mom’s mixing bowls, the big orange ceramic one, rip open the wax paper bag, dump that sucker into the bowl, and pluck out the coveted brontosaurus, triceratops, diplodocus or what have you. (Mom would return the cereal back into the bag at some later, unobserved point in time.) I didn’t have any siblings my age waiting around to usurp my dinosaur privileges, so whatever the cereal box contained was mine. All mine.

View of the San Gabriel range to the south, 1927

I was out in the front yard that summer morning, with a purple brontosaurus and an orange triceratops, cruising the Mojave Desert, looking for a swamp. I was a science nerd even at that young age. I was pretending to be a paleontologist, and I was looking for habitat for my dinosaurs with the idea of burying them where an archaeologist, a brother scientist, many years in the future, would dig them up, and in an "A-ha!" moment of transcendent scientific glory, deduce that we had all been here, in our own civilization, lo these many years ago. Garden trowel in hand, I was digging when my dad drove up into the driveway and stopped. He rolled down the window of the brown, 1968 Chevy pickup with the wood plank bed and the letters “C-H-E-V-R-O-L-E-T” on the tailgate that I can still feel with the tips of my fingers. He looked at me, covered in dirt with a green-handled, six-inch steel garden trowel in hand and a sizable pile of dirt beside, and asked what no parent should ever ask a young boy: “What are you doing?”

“Burying dinosaurs”, came my reply.

I imagine that he was fine with this answer because I don’t recall any further discussion of the topic. I probably supposed that he drove the rest of the way into the garage, quietly satisfied with the knowledge that his son was clearing the way for some future archaeologist’s Nobel-winning fame. I don’t think my dad ever really understood me, but that’s a different story for a different time.

It’s probably not surprising that I would construct a world navel in the front yard of the house where I grew up. The house was beautiful. Originally built in the mid-1920’s, it was constructed of adobe bricks, made from mud mixed with straw that was grown right there on the ranch. It literally rose from the Earth right where it stood. Three large bedrooms, one full bath and two showers, it was finished with maple parquet flooring in the living room, den and bedrooms. A huge fireplace lined a wall of the living room, framed in layers of pink sandstone, probably from Southern Utah. The same sandstone was used to construct a built-in, copper-lined planter in the den around an open structural beam that ran from floor to ceiling, where my mother grew a philodendron for the entire 25 years I called the house my home. A huge picture window was the showpiece of the den, with a view of the rest of the ranch and all points to the north. The living room had a series of paned windows that provided a view to the south of the 10,000-foot crest of the San Gabriel Mountains.

Wintry view to the north from the den.

About 2600 square feet, there were two swamp coolers that efficiently cooled the house in the summer, with a distinct advantage over other, newer homes with air conditioning: the coolers were lined with pads made of shredded pine that we replaced every summer. A pump in each cooler brought water up to the top of the pads, from where it dripped down, drenching the shaved wood. Wet pine smells incredible – think forest in a light rain. We used a particular floor wax on the wooden floors that also smelled of piney woods, and in summer, when the floors were freshly waxed and the coolers had new pads, the woody smell of the cool house in the midst of the Mojave Desert summer heat was enough to floor you. If ever I was centered and felt truly at home, it was at this place, at that particular time. It was primal and natural, perhaps unavoidable, that I would construct a world navel, an axis mundi, there in the front yard of that beautiful place that was my beginning.

I remember laying the dinosaurs down in the bottom of the hole, and wondering when they would next see the light of day, imagining the bespectacled face of that future archaeologist, peering wide-eyed at them, wondering at their simplicity and significance, and at the delicate nature of the wrinkles of their skin. I knew the excitement he would feel. He would feel the summer morning. He would smell the heat and moisture, and perhaps, who knew, even take refuge from the blazing sun inside the wonderfully cool house that smelled so much of forest and pine. I covered them with the exhumed earth, tamped the fill down with my feet, and thought about them from time to time over the next 50 years.

My parents sold the ranch in the late 1980’s. My grandparents, real estate investors in the Southern California of the late 1800’s, originally bought the property in the early 1900's. They built a home on the land that still stood when we moved away. Our house stood a short distance across a field from theirs. They would make the drive from Los Angeles to the house on the desert regularly. They planted fruit trees, peaches and pears, that grow so well in the climate of the high desert. It was more of a hobby ranch for my grandparents, who came to California from wealth and status in turn-of-the-century New York.

Grandparents' house

As my grandparents aged, they retired to the foothills north of Pasadena, and gave the desert property over to my dad in 1934, as a gift for graduating with a degree in economics from USC. He developed a turkey ranch and a feed mill on the land. The ranch and milling business thrived throughout the World War II years, the classic times of the 1950’s, and through the dynamic changes of the 1960’s. In the 1970's, as dad entered his 60’s, he began to plumb the depths of a deep depression that to my knowledge, he never spoke of to anyone, or did anything to treat, other than self-medication with high-octane Mexican tequila. He withdrew socially, and his ranch began to show the effects of his depression before his face did. By 1980 when I graduated high school, the ranch, while still functioning, was more an eyesore than it should have been, and the decades of turkey shit in the 30 acres of pens on the west side of the property began to have a permanent smell that couldn’t be erased no matter how many times they were scraped and the crap hauled over by the railroad tracks on the south side of the place.

I loved growing up on the ranch in the 70’s. My dad bought me a pony, Misty, and a pellet gun, and paid me a bounty of 25 cents per squirrel and pigeon, and a nickel for each sparrow – pests that spread disease to his turkeys and pillaged the grain in his mill. I grew to know at a young age the commonalities of blood and life we share with all living beings. Speaking of young men and hunting, and growth into adulthood, Henry Thoreau stated that “No humane being, past the thoughtless age of boyhood, will wantonly murder any creature.” I first read that line when I was about 13, and it has stayed with me all these years. I would not feel so deeply the interconnection of life and earth and blood if I hadn’t had the opportunity to hunt ferocious wild animals on horseback when I was young.

The house in 2015. The years had not been kind.

Over the years since we moved away, I’ve taken comfort in knowing that the house was still there. I would occasionally take a virtual trip to the house via Google Earth and see the spot I buried the dinosaurs. A few times I actually drove past the place, physically observing as it faded further and further away from its shining memory. In Spring of 2015, I drove onto the property for the first time since leaving in 1988, and was stunned at the desolation and missing landmarks. I'm haunted by the ghosts of the place.

Today, early September 2016, roughly 50 years since I buried those toys, I was told that the house, along with all the other structures remaining on the ranch, were bulldozed flat last week in preparation for construction of PRECISELY what everyone needs, another subdivision of cheap, shoddily constructed, unaffordable homes in the middle of the desert. What seemed such a permanent place is now completely erased. I’m feeling a little uprooted and unstable, even though it’s been 30 years since I called that place home. The knowledge of its demolition takes away something I didn’t know I had – an ongoing connection with that house, the ranch, and who I am. Now that connection is only a memory. But, now that I think about it, that’s all it’s ever been...a memory that shines brighter with each passing year. But those dinosaurs in that hole are real. I wonder if they’re still there.

I hope that they are.

The house in Google Earth - click to see a reconstruction of sorts

Here's how the place looks now...

Homesite looking west, September 7, 2016

The first 10 seconds of this video are a pan from west to east of the den inside the house that shows the wall of bookcases, the picture window and my mom's philodendron. The scene changes to a view inside the hatchery of workers determining the gender of baby turkeys.


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Solar Trade Association says 25% proposed cuts to RO solar are not justified

Two new consultations resulting from the Renewable Obligation (RO) Banding Decision are seeking to amend support for solar power under the RO, and open up the possibility of removing sub 5MW solar from RO support altogether. The first of these consultations on the level of RO support was published Friday afternoon [1].

The consultation proposes cutting support for solar under the RO by 25% from 2 ROCs to 1.5 ROCs. Very little solar had been built under the RO until this year because it had not been financially viable. However, the solar industry was challenged by DECC to reduce costs to a level where it could expand under 2 ROCs, which makes solar competitive with other key renewables. The non-domestic solar industry is now starting to expand at 2 ROCs after it was derailed by cuts to the Feed-in Tariff (FIT) over a year ago. Around 500MW is projected to go in this year under the RO, the majority of which will be sub 5MW.

Solar Trade Association CEO Paul Barwell said:
"We have delivered really exceptional cost reductions in the solar industry, yet we once again face having the rug pulled from under us. The proposed 25% cut is too big and too soon. We understand DECC have concerns about how solar will interact with other renewable technologies under the RO, and how it will influence the budget, but deliberately under-rewarding solar to curtail the industry is definitely not the solution. This is not a fair proposal and it is not in the public interest to constrain a cost-effective technology."

The STA is still awaiting the other DECC consultation on proposals to remove sub 5MW solar from RO support altogether [2]. It is vital that both consultations are considered together to ensure a coherent and ambitious framework for solar. DECC's proposals to cut RO support by 25% appear to be based on aligning the RO to the 7.1p level of support available for the upper bands under the FIT. However, the FIT support levels in these upper bands were not set at a level to encourage investment, as larger investors had the RO option.

Paul Barwell said:
"The STA does not consider alignment with the deliberately ineffective 7.1p FIT a credible basis for setting support for RO solar. It is vital that industry provides the supporting information to DECC, and that DECC really listens to the evidence on this consultation - it must match their rhetorical ambition of 22GW.”

The STA is setting up a Large Scale PV Group which will include installers, developers and investors in order to provide detailed feedback to Government on the consultation. The STA is particularly concerned about mid-sized schemes for which the solar market has barely begun. This important market risks falling through the policy framework unless great care is taken.

The STA was also dismayed to see the very low deployment projections using out of date information presented in the consultation.
Paul Barwell concluded:
"We're perplexed as to why these old projections have been repeated in this consultation. Projections of a few megawatts, rather than gigawatts of solar obviously are not consistent with the hard-won ambitions for solar that DECC Ministers have clearly articulated."

[1]DECC: ‘Consultation on proposals for the levels of banded support for Solar PV under the Renewables Obligation for the Period 1 April 2013 to 31 March 2017’, 7th September 2012.

[2] The Government Response to the RO banding consultation (25th July 2012,

Tags: Solar Trade Association, Association News, Solar Digest


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Scoping traverses concrete syntax, threading some effects:

  • reading the scope, being (concretely) an alist of strings to namerefs; what is its abstract interface?
  • generating new namerefs, due either to an explicit binding (in a pattern or a shadow), or to an implicit binding (a previously unseen name in an lhs or a sig)
  • accumulating the set of new namerefs, when we see a name which is not in an explicit binding position, we should look it up if we can and generate a new nameref if not; we must accumulate the set of these names so we can add them to the relevant shadow; this way, the elaborator will know exactly where everything is to be bound
  • building imperative syntax trees: we may as well get our node identifiers from the ref supplier; also, we can equip trees with backpointers, and possibly other editor-related gubbins

Scoping will also need to generate binary applications, handling any weird operators we might allow. I’ll have a stab at the datatype of nodes in a bit.

2 Responses to “Scoping”

  1. Cyril Konopko Says:

    What could be the exact format to exchange the information between Epigram and external editors? Could it be XML?

  2. Conor Says:

    I’m planning to specify a Haskell-level interface: datatypes and functionality which are delivered to and required of an external editor. Anyone writing such an editor would thus need to write at least a little Haskell to turn this into some kind of command-response interface. There is no reason why such a command-response interface should not use XML as its interchange format (given suitably serialisable datatypes). So packing up Epigram as some kind of server communicating in XML will be possible, but not compulsory.

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      02-05-2013, 02:29 AM   #2

Drives: 335i
Join Date: Jan 2013
Location: NorCal

iTrader: (0)

Nothing like Supras... At all, i any way shape or form other than the fact they are really heavy >=P

But then again I like 335is and hate Supras so maybe that is the reason behind it. As far as modding other cars here are lots. The 335i isn't even really main stream or on the tuners/modders radar since all of the upgrade paths are linear and the tuning is baby proof.

Its all about budget and what type of car you want. AWD, RWD, FWD.. FI or N/A, American or Imported, Turning or straight line, Performance or comfort etc etc. Maybe a little bit of all of it?

Its an impossible thing to answer but the Tuner King that achieves the most for the least is and always will be the Mitsubishi Evo. Performance, Gasmillage, Straight line and turning, community support, vendor support. Various upgrade paths etc etc. A lot easier to be unique.


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BMW 3-Series (E90 E92) Forum > E90/E92/E93 Marketplace (For Sale / Trade / Wanted) > SPONSORS Classifieds/Groupbuys/Specials Area > Canadian Sales and Vendors > Bimmersport Automotive Early Spring Special 2012

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      02-06-2012, 03:07 PM   #1
Jon@Bimmersport Automotive

Drives: E90 M3 Active Supercharged
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: Mississauga, On Canada

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Garage List
2003.5 BMW M3  [5.00]
Bimmersport Automotive Early Spring Special 2012

Hello board,

In light of the recent change in weather I am hosting a sale on many products we offer. Here is some of the specials we have:

I am offering 15% off retail on all Active Autowerke products excluding superchargers (contact for pricing). For those interested in software tuning, the first 10 people will get an additional 10% off the retail price (totalling 25% off retail). The Active Autowerke's software is loaded in house, so there is no need to remove your ECU and endure costly shipping and wait times. *N55 tunes are not available in house. Installation, shipping and occurring duty costs are not included in special pricing (software does not have an installation cost). We have done a few group buys and have loaded software on many different models. We even have done tuning on E53 X5 4.8is, E63 645ci, X5M/X6M (downpipes now available!), and the new tuner locked ECU versions are no problems for us.

*Available to local GTA members only

Here are some reviews of their products...

128i Review
2006 330i Review
E39 540i Review

VF-Engineering supercharger kits are now on sale at special price - Contact for special pricing

Brembo and Stoptech BBK - Contact for special pricing

Eisennman Exhaust - Contact for special pricing + install specials

Please call us or email us for more info on the posted or other specials we have going on!

905.670.9200 or bimmersport@rogers.com

Last edited by Jon@Bimmersport Automotive; 02-06-2012 at 04:57 PM.
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      02-07-2012, 11:38 AM   #2
Private First Class

Drives: 2006 330i
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: Canada

iTrader: (0)

Interested in getting the aa tune for my 2006 330i - just wondering If I should get it before or after I get an intake. Also what would the pricing be?

Also what kind of gains can I expect and how long would it take?
2006 BMW 330i
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      02-07-2012, 01:43 PM   #3
Lieutenant Colonel

Drives: '15 435ix F36 ('11 328ix E90)
Join Date: Aug 2011
Location: Toronto

iTrader: (3)

Can you PM me the price for Eisennman Exhaust + install on 2011 E90 328XI? Or is it only for 335?
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Skiing in Sun Valley

Our Snowbasin season ski passes come with three free days of skiing at Sun Valley (as well as a bunch of other places now that they’re in the Powder Alliance) and a reasonable flat rate of $159 at the Sun Valley Lodge/Inn.  So, we packed... Read more

Our First Flight on RyanAir

Day 11 of our trip was a bittersweet one, as it meant the end to our time in Ireland (which we loved), but also the start of the next leg and some cask ales in London. This day was mostly a travel day, so unless you’ve very enthralled... Read more

Live Gaelic Football

Day 9 of our trip started strong with a mind blowing trip around Slea Head Drive.  It didn’t end there, however, as our return to Dingle greeted us with some heavy traffic.  It turns out, as luck would have it, that a semifinal Gaelic... Read more

Coasteering in Ireland

Day 6 of our trip was another bright and sunny day.  I’d done some googling and came across, an adventure company based out of Clifden.  One of the things they offer is coasteering, which is essentially a combined... Read more


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1708 Bridgeboro Road Edgewater Park, NJ 08010
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Thoughts of You Bouquet with Red Roses in Edgewater Park NJ, Eastwick's Florist

It's the thought that counts, but it counts a bit more when it is expressed with three gorgeous red roses in a lovely arrangement tied up with a red satin ribbon. The flowers are bright and the price is right - the perfect combination for a sweet surprise.

This charming bouquet includes three red roses accented with white waxflower, huckleberry and pittosporum along with a red satin ribbon. Delivered in a clear glass vase.

Approximately 10 1/2" W x 16 1/2" H

Orientation: All-Around

  • As Shown : TEV12-6A
  • Deluxe : TEV12-6B
  • Premium : TEV12-6C

Thoughts of You Bouquet with Red Roses

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