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'House Of The Dragon' Actor Fabien Frankel Reveals He Had To Get Spoon Fed On Set Due To Incredibly Heavy Armor
Home / News / 'House Of The Dragon' Actor Fabien Frankel Reveals He Had To Get Spoon Fed On Set Due To Incredibly Heavy Armor
Actor Fabien Frankel revealed that his full suit of armor in "House of the Dragon" is as heavy as it looks. The actor appears in the "Game of Thrones" prequel as Ser Criston Cole, a key member of the Westeros Kingsguard.
While Frankel has acted in several titles, his role in "House of the Dragon" is considered his breakout role. In a previous interview, the 28-year-old talked about how long and how much thought he put into preparing for his sex scene with Milly Alcock, who played the younger version of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.
At the time, Frankel revealed that he leaned heavily on the weight of the full suit of armor he wore and that apparently wasn't just for show. He recently disclosed that he struggled to carry it around for the first few weeks of filming, and people had to help him perform various tasks.
Read on to learn more
Fabien Frankel Said The Armor Was Heavy
Frankel had a tough time on set in his knightly armor. The 28-year-old joined "The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon" on Monday and went into detail concerning how he could carry the outfit around the set and perform necessary tasks.
To kick off the conversation, Fallon, the host, showed Frankel a picture of himself in "full armor" and quizzed him concerning the weight. He asked, "It looks heavy, is it heavy?"
The "Last Christmas" actor revealed that while he struggled with the weight, it was easier to handle with time. He responded (per Insider), "It's quite heavy. It got less heavy as time went on, but at the beginning, you had a breastplate which is a thing that protects your neck and top of your chest, but you couldn't remove it."
Fabien Frankel Had To Be Fed Like He 'Was Very Sick'
Instagram/House of the Dragon
Further in the interview, Frankel told the show host that the first few weeks were so tough for him that he could not move his limbs freely. As a result, he enlisted the aid of people on set to feed him while he sat "like a zombie."
"For, like, the first two-and-a-half weeks of filming, I had to sit like a zombie and have people sort of feed me like I was very sick."
Fallon pointed out that despite the initial struggles, Frankel obviously "got to be pretty comfortable in the suit of armor" and then shared a picture of the 28-year-old. The photo was taken and posted by the actor's co-star, Alcock, who played the younger version of Princess Rhaenyra.
He Called Himself An 'Ugly Sleeper'
Instagram/Mils
In the picture Alcock took, Frankel was seen fast asleep with his full body of armor, mouth agape and all. Alcock posted the image of her oblivious co-star along with the rest of the cast on the set of the popular series.
She captioned the post, "I love u all, I love u, I love this!" Frankel took to her comment section to tell her that she would "be missed." The 22-year-old's time as a part of the "House of the Dragon" cast ended in episode five, after which Emma D'Arcy took over as the older version of Princess Rhaenyra.
In the interview with Fallon, the 28-year-old revealed that he had no idea when the picture was taken or its existence until Alcock posted it on her Instagram page. He joked, "I'm a really ugly sleeper."
Fabien Frankel Prepared For Months For Sex Scene
Instagram/Fabien Frankel
While talking to Entertainment Weekly recently, Frankel spoke about the weight of his armor in the series in relation to his sex scene with Princess Rhaenyra (Alcock). In episode four of "House of the Dragon," the princess seduces Frankel's character and gets him to take her virginity.
Frankel shared that he wanted his character, Cole, to look like he struggled with the weight of his armor and the oath of chastity as a knight of Westeros. "I remember just saying to them, 'There's no way this armor comes off without the help.' Knights would have squires, and squires would take off their armor," the actor recalled.
Frankel explained that he didn't think it would be easy to take off the armor and asked that the struggle be included. The 28-year-old described most older sex scenes as "archaic" and revealed that he didn't want the scene with Alcock to be the same.
Filed Under: Entertainment, News, Stars, Top Stories Tagged With: Fabien Frankel, House of the Dragon, Jimmy Fallon, Milly Alcock
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News: Comet theory collides with Clovis research, may explain disappearance of ancient people
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This, of course, is an extreme example. The usual procedure is for the secondary personality to retain some of the characteristics of the original self—as the ability to read, write, etc.—and give itself a name. In this way Ansel Bourne, the Rhode Island itinerant preacher, became metamorphosed into A. J. Brown, and, without any recollection of his former career or relationships, drifted to Pennsylvania and began an entirely new existence as a shopkeeper in a small country town. Similarly with Dr. R. Osgood Mason's patient, Alma Z., in whom the secondary personality assumed the odd name of "Twoey," spoke, as Dr. Mason phrased it, "in a peculiar child-like and Indianlike dialect," and announced that her mission was to cure the broken down physical organism of the original self, which remained completely in abeyance so long as[Pg 190] "Twoey" was in evidence. Here, as is apparent, we have a case almost identical with that of Lurancy Vennum, the sole difference being that "Twoey"—who, by the way, is credited with having exercised seemingly supernormal powers—did not pose as a returned visitant from the world of spirits.
Thus far, then, depending on the argument from analogy, the presumption is strong that Lurancy's case belongs to the same category as the cases just mentioned. In the one, as in the others, we have loss of the original self, development of a new self, and the enactment by the latter of a rôle conspicuously alien from that played by the former. The one difficulty in the way of unreserved acceptance of this view is the character of the secondary personality which replaced Lurancy's original personality. Here the positive claim was made that the secondary personality was in reality the personality of a girl long dead, and by way of proof vivid knowledge of the life, circumstances, and conduct of that girl was offered. But on this point considerable light is shed by the discovery that in a number of instances of secondary personality in which no supernatural pretensions are advanced there[Pg 191] is a notable sharpening of the faculties, knowledge being obtained telepathically or clairvoyantly; and by the further discovery that it is quite possible to create experimentally secondary selves assuming the characteristics of real persons who have died.
In this the creative force is nothing more or less than suggestion. There is on record, indeed, an instance of mediumship in which the medium, an amateur investigator of the phenomena of spiritism, clearly recognized that his various impersonations were suggested to him by the spectators. This gentleman, Mr. Charles H. Tout, of Vancouver, records that after attending a few séances with some friends he felt a strong impulse to turn medium himself, and assume a foreign personality. Yielding to the impulse, he discovered, much to his amazement, that without losing complete control of his consciousness, he could develop a secondary self that would impose on the beholders as a discarnate spirit. On one occasion he thus acted in a semi-conscious way the part of a dead woman, the mother of a friend present, and the impersonation was accepted as a genuine case of spirit control. On another, having given several[Pg 192] successful impersonations, he suddenly felt weak and ill, and almost fell to the floor.
At this point, he stated, one of the sitters "made the remark, which I remember to have overheard, 'It is father controlling him,' and I then seemed to realize who I was and whom I was seeking. I began to be distressed in my lungs, and should have fallen if they had not held me by the hands and let me back gently upon the floor.... I was in a measure still conscious of my actions, though not of my surroundings, and I have a clear memory of seeing myself in the character of my dying father lying in the bed and in the room in which he died. It was a most curious sensation. I saw his shrunken hands and face, and lived again through his dying moments; only now I was both myself, in an indistinct sort of way, and my father, with his feelings and appearance."
All of this Tout explained correctly as "the dramatic working out, by some half conscious stratum of his personality, of suggestions made at the time by other members of the circle, or received in prior experiences of the kind." In most instances, however, the original self is completely effaced, and no consciousness is[Pg 193] retained of the performances of the secondary self; but that an avenue of sense is still open is sufficiently demonstrated by the readiness with which, in hypnotic experiments, seemingly insensible subjects respond to the suggestions of the operator. Here, therefore, we find our clue to the solution of the mystery of Lurancy Vennum. A victim of a psychic catastrophe, the cause of which must be left to conjecture in the absence of knowledge of her previous history, she was placed in precisely the position of the adventurous Mr. Tout and of the inert subjects of the hypnotist's art. That is to say, having lost momentarily all knowledge and control of her own personality, the character her new personality would assume depended on the suggestions received from those about her.
Yet not altogether. Dr. Stevens's detailed record contains a reference which indicates strongly that the spiritistic tendency manifest from the onset of her trouble was to some extent predetermined. A few days before the first attack she informed the family that "there were persons in my room last night, and they called 'Rancy, Rancy!' and I felt their breath on my face"; and the next night, repeating[Pg 194] the same story, she sought refuge in her mother's bed. These fanciful notions, symptomatic of the coming trouble and possibly provocative of it, would act in the way of a powerful autosuggestion, and would of themselves explain why there resulted an inchoate, tentative, vague personality, instead of the robust, definite personality that assumes control in most cases.
At first, the reader will remember, she sought vainly and wildly and wholly subconsciously—it cannot be made too clear that she was no longer consciously responsible for her acts—for a satisfactory self of ghostly origin. The aged Katrina, the masculine Willie, and other imaginary beings were tried and rejected; principally, no doubt, because her thirteen-year-old imagination was unequal to the task of investing them with satisfactory attributes. From her relatives she obtained no assistance in the strange quest. They, disbelieving in "spirits," persisted in calling her insane—a comfortless and far from beneficial suggestion. But with the intervention of the Roffs and Dr. Stevens everything changed. Not questioning the truth of her assertions, they confirmed her in them,[Pg 195] and offered her into the bargain a ready-made personality.
Here at last was something tangible, a starting-point, a foundation-stone. Mary Roff had had a real existence, had had thoughts, feelings, desires, a life of flesh and blood. And Mary, they assured the poor, perturbed, disintegrated self, could help her regain all that she had lost. Very well, let Mary come, and the sooner she came the better. For knowledge of Mary, of her characteristics, her relationships, her friends, her earthly career, it was necessary only to tap telepathically the reservoir of information possessed by Mary's family; and there would be available besides a wealth of data in chance remarks, unconscious hints, unnoticed promptings. She had been too long in search of a personality not to grasp at the opening now afforded. Focused thus by suggestion,—that subtle, all-pervasive influence which man is only now beginning to appreciate,—the basic delusional idea promptly took root, blossomed, and burst into an amazing fruition. Banished were the spurious Katrinas and Willies. In their stead reigned Mary, no less spurious in point of fact, but so cunningly counterfeiting[Pg 196] the true Mary that the deception was not once detected.
Mark too how suggestion sufficed not only to create the Mary personality but to expel it and restore the hapless Lurancy to perfect health. If the responsibility for the creation rests on Dr. Stevens and the Roffs, to them likewise belongs the credit for the cure. Their insistence on the fact that Mary's spirit could and would be of assistance, was itself as powerful a suggestion as could be hit upon by the most expert of modern practitioners of psychotherapeutics; and in unconsciously persuading the spirit to set a limit to its time of "possession" they made another suggestion of rare curative value. To the suggestionally inspired fixed idea that she was not Lurancy Vennum but Mary Roff was thus added the fixed idea, derived from the same source, that in May she would become Lurancy Vennum again, and a perfectly well Lurancy. It was as though the Roffs had actually hypnotized her and given her commands that were to be obeyed with the fidelity characteristic of the obedience hypnotized subjects render to the operator.
When the time came the transformation was[Pg 197] duly effected, though, as has been seen, not without a struggle, a period of alternating personality, with Mary at one moment supreme and Lurancy at another. But this is a phenomenon that need give us no concern. Exactly the same thing happened in the last stages of the Hanna case. Nor do the fugitive recurrences of the Mary personality signify aught than that Lurancy was still unduly suggestionable. Note that these recurrences, according to the available evidence, developed only when the Roffs paid her visits; and that they ceased entirely upon her marriage to a man not interested in spiritism, and her removal to a distant part of the country.[Q]
[P] In his "Multiple Personality."
[Q] It is proper to add that since the recent publication of this paper as a contribution to The Associated Sunday Magazine, the charge of fraud has been revived in connection with the "Watseka Wonder." It is asserted by a resident of Watseka that although Lurancy Vennum unquestionably was a sufferer from "nervous trouble," she consciously impersonated the "spirit" of Mary Roff, her motive being a desire to be near one of the Roff boys, with whom she imagined herself in love.
[Pg 198]
A Medieval Ghost Hunter
The name of Dr. John Dee is scarcely known to-day, yet Dr. Dee has some exceedingly well-defined claims to remembrance. He was one of the foremost scientists of the Tudor period in English history. He was famed as a mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher not only in his native land but in every European center of learning. Before he was twenty he penned a remarkable treatise on logic, and he left behind him at his death a total of nearly a hundred works on all manner of recondite subjects. He was the means of introducing into England a number of astronomical instruments hitherto unused, and even unknown, in that country. His lectures on geometry were the delight of all who heard them. In Elizabeth's reign he was frequently consulted by the highest ministers of the crown with regard to affairs of State, and was the confidant of the queen herself, who more than once employed[Pg 199] him on secret missions. He was interested in everyday affairs as well as in questions of theoretical importance. The reformation of the calendar long engaged his attention. He charted for Elizabeth her distant colonial dominions. He preached the doctrine of sea-power, and, like Hakluyt, advocated the upbuilding of a strong navy. He was, in some sort, a participant in Sir Humphrey Gilbert's scheme for New World colonization.
In a word, Dr. John Dee was a phenomenally many-sided man in an age that was peculiarly productive of many-sided men. Even yet, the catalogue of his interests and accomplishments is by no means exhausted. Indeed, his chief claim to fame—and, paradoxically enough, the great reason why his reputation practically died with him—lies in the fact that he was one of the earliest of psychical researchers. At a time when all men unhesitatingly entertained a belief in the overshadowing presence of spirits and their constant intervention in human affairs, Dr. Dee resolved to prove, if possible, the actual existence of these mysterious and unseen beings. To encourage him in his ghost-hunting zeal was the hope that the spirits, if[Pg 200] actually located by him, might reward his enterprise by unfolding a secret that had long been the despair of all medieval scientists—the secret of the philosopher's stone, of the precious formula whereby the baser metals could be transmuted into shining gold. With the heartiest enthusiasm, therefore, Dr. Dee went to work, and although the spirits with whom he ultimately came into constant communication brought him no gold but many tribulations, he remained an ardent psychical researcher to the day of his death.
Just when he began his explorations of the invisible world it is impossible to say. But it must have been at a very early age, for he was barely twenty-five when a rumor spread that he was dabbling in the black arts. Two years later, in 1554, he was definitely accused of trying to take the life of Queen Mary by enchantments, and on this charge was thrown into prison. For cellmate he had Barthlet Green, who parted from him only to meet an agonizing death in the flames, as an arch-heretic. Dee himself was threatened with the stake, and was actually placed on trial for his life before the dread Court of the Star Chamber. But he seems to have had, throughout[Pg 201] his entire career, a singularly plausible manner, and a magnetic, winning personality. He succeeded in convincing his judges both of his innocence of traitorous designs and his religious orthodoxy, and was allowed to go scot free. Elizabeth, on her accession to the throne, naturally looked on him with favor, as one who had been persecuted by her sister; and with the more favor since it was widely reported that he was on the eve of making the grand discovery for which other alchemists had ever labored in vain. A man who might some day make gold at will was certainly not to be despised; rather, he should be cultivated. Nor was her esteem for Dee lessened by the success with which, by astrological calculations, he named a favorable day for her coronation; and, a little later, by solemn disenchantment warded off the ill effects of the Lincoln's Inn Fields incident, when a puppet of wax, representing Elizabeth, was found lying on the ground with a huge pin stuck through its breast.
As a matter of fact, however, Dee was making headway neither in his quest for the philosopher's stone nor in his efforts to prove the existence of a spiritual world. In vain[Pg 202] he pored over every work of occultism upon which he could lay his hands, and tried all known means of incantation. Year after year passed without result, until at last he hit on the expedient of crystal-gazing. As every student of things psychical is aware, if one takes a crystal, or glass of water, or other body with a reflecting surface, and gaze at it steadily, he may possibly perceive, after a greater or less length of time, shadowy images of persons or scenes in the substance that fixes his attention. It was so with Dr. Dee, and not having any understanding of the laws of subconscious mental action he soon came to the conclusion that the shadowy figures he saw in the crystal were veritable spirits. From this it was an easy step to imagine that they really talked to him and sought to convey to him a knowledge of the great secrets of this world and the next.
The only difficulty was that he could not understand what they said—or, rather, what he fancied they said. The obvious thing to do was to find a crystal-gazer with the gift of the spirit language, and induce him to interpret for Dr. Dee's benefit the revelations of the images in the glass. Such a crystal-gazer[Pg 203] was ready at hand in the person of a young man named Edward Kelley. Among the common people, as Dee well knew, Kelley had the reputation of being a bold and wicked wizard. He had been born in Worcester, and trained in the apothecary's business, but, tempted by the prospect of securing great wealth at a minimum of trouble, he had turned alchemist and magician. It was rumored that on at least one occasion he had disinterred a freshly buried corpse, and by his incantations had compelled the spirit of the dead man to speak to him. There was more truth in the report that the reason he always wore a close-fitting skull-cap was to conceal the loss of his ears, which had been forfeited to the Government of England on his conviction for forgery. Of this last unpleasant incident Dr. Dee seems to have known nothing. At any rate, with child-like confidence, he sent for Kelley, told him of the properties of his magic crystal—which the now thoroughly infatuated doctor represented as having been bestowed on him by the angel Uriel—and asked Kelley if he would interpret for him the wonderful words of the spirits.
Kelley, as shrewd and unscrupulous a man[Pg 204] as any in the annals of imposture, readily consented, but on pretty hard terms. He was to be taken in as a member of Dr. Dee's family, retained on a contract, and paid an annual stipend of fifty pounds, quite a large sum in those times. On this understanding he went to work, and day after day, for years, regaled the credulous Dee with monologues purporting to be delivered by the spirits in the crystal. Everything Kelley told him, Dr. Dee faithfully noted down, and many years later, long after both Dee and Kelley had been carried to their graves, these manuscript notes of the séances were published. The volume containing them—a massive, closely printed folio entitled "A True and Faithful Relation of What Passed for Many Years Between Dr. John Dee and Some Spirits"—is one of the great curiosities of literature. A copy of the original edition is before me as I write, and I will quote from it just enough to show the character of the "revelations" vouchsafed to Dee through the mediumship of the cunning Kelley.
"Wednesday, 19 Junii, I made a prayer to God and there appeared one, having two garments in his hands, who answered, 'A good praise, with a wavering mind.'
"God made my mind stable, and to be seasoned with the intellectual leaven, free of all sensible mutability.
"E. K. [said] 'One of these two garments is pure white: the other is speckled of divers colors; he layeth them down before him, he layeth also a speckled cap down before him at his feet; he hath no cap on his head: his hair is long and yellow, but his face cannot be seen.... Now he putteth on his pied coat and his pied cap, he casteth one side of his gown over his shoulder and he danceth, and saith, "There is a God, let us be merry!"'
"E. K. 'He danceth still.'
"'There is a heaven, let us be merry.'
"'Doth this doctrine teach you to know God, or to be skilful in the heavens?'
"'Note it.'
"E. K. 'Now he putteth off his clothes again: now he kneeleth down, and washeth his head and his neck and his face, and shaketh his clothes, and plucketh off the uttermost sole of his shoes, and falleth prostrate on the ground, and saith, "Vouchsafe, oh God, to take away the weariness of my body and to cleanse the filthiness of this dust, that I may be apt for this pureness."'
"E. K. 'Now he taketh the white garment, and putteth it on him.... Now he sitteth down on the desk-top and looketh toward me.... He seemeth now to be turned to a woman, and the very same which we call Galvah.'"
Side by side with the esoteric and transcendental utterances which Kelley credited to the spirits, he cleverly introduced sufficient in the way of references to the elixir of life and the transmutation of metals, to keep alive in Dee's breast the hope of ultimately solving the crucial problems of medieval science. All the money Dee could procure was spent on ingredients for magical formulas, and to such lengths did his enthusiasm carry him that before long he was reduced to poverty. He became so poor, in fact, that when, in the summer of 1583, the Earl of Leicester announced his intention of bringing a notable foreign visitor, Count Albert Lasky of Bohemia, to dine with Dee, the unhappy doctor was compelled to send word that he could not provide a proper dinner. Leicester, moved to pity, reported his plight to the queen, who at once belied her reputation for niggardliness by bestowing a liberal gift on[Pg 207] the Sage of Mortlake, as Dee was now styled at the Court. The dinner accordingly took place, and was a tremendous success in more ways than one.
Lasky turned out to be an exceedingly excitable and impressionable man, and his curiosity was so aroused by the occult discourse of his host that he begged to be admitted to the séances. Always alert to the main chance, Kelley, after a few preliminary sittings of unusual picturesqueness, inspired the spirits to predict that Lasky would one day be elected King of Poland. It needed nothing more to induce the happy and hopeful count to invite both Dee and Kelley to return with him to Bohemia. He would, he promised, protect and provide for them; they should live with him in his many turreted castle, and want for nothing. Here, indeed, was a pleasant way out of their present poverty, and Dee and Kelley readily gave consent. Nor did they leave England a moment too soon. Scarcely had they taken ship before a mob, roused to fury by superstitious fears, broke into the philosopher's house at Mortlake and destroyed almost everything that they did not steal[Pg 208]—furniture, books, manuscripts, and costly scientific apparatus.
Of this, though, Dee for the moment happily knew nothing. Nor, for all his long intercourse with the spirits, was he able to foresee that he was now embarking on a career of tragic adventure that falls to the lot of few scientists. At first, however, all went well enough. Lasky entertained his learned guests in lavish fashion, and, assuming their garb of long, flowing gown, joined heartily with them in the ceremonies of the séance room. But as time passed and their incantations redounded in no way to his advantage, he gradually lost patience, and broadly hinted that they might better transfer their services to another patron. Whereupon, closely followed by the irrepressible Kelley, Dee removed to the court of the emperor, Rudolph II, at Prague. He had dedicated one of his scientific treatises to the emperor's father, and in his simplicity firmly believed that this would insure him a warm and lasting welcome. But Rudolph, from the outset, showed himself far from well-disposed to Dee, Kelley, and their attendant retinue of invisible spirits. When Dee grandiloquently introduced himself, in a Latin[Pg 209] oration, as a messenger from the unseen world, the emperor curtly checked him with the remark that he did not understand Latin. And the next day a hint was given him that, at the request of the papal nuncio, he and Kelley were to be arrested and sent to Rome for trial as necromancers. Before night-fall they were in full flight, to remain homeless wanderers until another Bohemian count, hearing of their presence in his dominions, took them under his protection on the proviso that they were to replenish his exchequer by converting humble pewter into silver and gold.
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News from Bundesliga Club Training Camps
January 7, 2011 Gerry Wittmann 0
For Bundesliga fans, winter break seems to last an eternity. Even though this season's break is shorter in duration than others in the past, it seems a lifetime since the final whistle blew on the last German club action of 2010…the wild and wooly DFB Pokal Cup golazzo in which Bayern Munich eliminated VfB Stuttgart 6-3.
Now that the holidays have passed and the New Year is upon us, we'll look at some of the goings on at Bundesliga club winter camps, as we wait anxiously for the second half of the season to resume on Friday, January 14 with the enticing matchup between Bundesliga leaders Borussia Dortmund and runner-up Bayer Leverkusen.
Jurgen Klopp's Borussia Dortmund side won't be taking their 10 point lead over Bayer Leverkusen for granted after losing their last match to Eintracht Frankfurt. The Yellow-Blacks are training in Jerez de la Frontera. In their first competitive match of 2011, they drew 2-2 against Ligue 1 club RC Lens. Dortmund had the lead twice, first on a penalty kick by Nuri Sahin in the 13th minute. RC Lens equalized near intermission. Dortmund regained the lead in the 83rd minute on a goal by midfielder Tamas Hajnal, as he knocked in a rebound off the Lens keeper. The French side, however, were able to level just before the final whistle.
In other Dortmund news, team captain Sebastian Kehl has been in camp, involved in some drills, but is not sure when he can resume full training, although he is feeling well and hopes to begin full training soon. Longtime Dortmund veteran Dede wore the captain's armband in the Lens friendly, and commented in a later interview regarding his future that " my plan is to end my career at Borussia. Just recently I had some very positive talks with Michael Zorc. Everything else will be decided in the coming weeks."
Second place Bayer Leverkusen play a Thursday friendly match against 2.Bundesliga side Rot-Weiss Oberhausen. Kicker magazine recently ranked Leverkusen's Arturo Vidal as one of the top three defensive midfielders in Germany, along with Sahin and Bayern Munich's Bastian Schweinsteiger. The magazine also touted Renato Augusto of the Werkself as one of the top three attacking midfielders in the Bundesliga.
Meanwhile in Dubai, Armin Veh's Hamburg SV squad won their first training match of 2011. defeating Al Wasl FC of the United Arab Emirates 3-2. Hamburg took an early lead on goals by Paulo Guererro and Ruud van Nisterlrooy but the UAE side were able to level before midfielder Anis Ben-Hatira scored to give Hamburg the victory. Hopefully the win will be a good omen as Hamburg try to regain their form following a disappointing first half of the season.
SC Freiburg, one of the pleasant surprises of the Bundesliga Hinrunde, have experienced a good news/bad news training camp so far. Robin Dutt's team won the Harder 13 indoor tournament in Mannheim, defeating 1. FC Kaiserslautern in the tournament final 5-1. The win over the Red Devils to capture the tournament crown was tempered by the news of injuries to Freiburg's Stefan Reisinger and Anton Putsila. Reisinger suffered a fractured jaw in a collision with the Red Devils' goalkeeper while heading in a goal and will require surgery. Putsila suffered a ligament injury that will sideline him in training for several days.
FC Schalke were not able to replicate Freiburg's success in indoor play. They were eliminated from the Licher Hessen Cup 2011 in the preliminary round by Kickers Offenbach in Frankfurt last Sunday. Schalke had drawn an earlier match with St. Pauli 2-2. Royal Blues' leader Felix Magath fielded a team of familiar faces for the Offenbach contest, including Manuel Neuer, Klaas-Jan Huntelaar, Jose Jurado, Benedikt Howedes and Ivan Rakitic, but Kickers went away with a 3-2 triumph. Howedes suffered an ankle injury that forced him to leave the match after receiving treatment.
Benedikt Howedes
Schalke arrived Wednesday at its training grounds in Belek, Turkey. They will have little time to prepare for their Friday match with Turkish Super League leaders Trabzonspor. Friday's match will be televised on Sports 1 in Germany, so enterprising Schalke fans worldwide may want to search the internet for a live feed of the match.
VFB Stuttgart have had a tumultuous season thus far, sitting in the relegation zone of the Bundesliga despite topping their group in Europa League play. The team is on its third coach of the 2010-2011 campaign, as Christian Gross was fired and replaced by Jens Keller, whose reign only lasted sixty days before Bruno Labbadia was hired. Stuttgart have started 2011 on the right foot though, defeating Turkish 1st division side Manisaspor 4-1 Wednesday. After surrendering an early lead, Labbadia's men came back in the second half on a brace by reserve team striker Sven Schipplock and single tallies by Zdravko Kuzmanovic and Mamadou Bah. Labbadia was pleased with his club's second half performance.
Claudio Pizarro Nets for Werder Bremen
Things are going well in Werder Bremen's training, also being held in Belek, as far as weather and training conditions. But the absence of injured Brazilians Naldo and Wesley, and the collapse of fitness coach Yann-Benjamin Kugel have blemished the positive atmosphere surrounding the club in camp. (Kugel was taken to the hospital after collapsing during a morning jog. Although his situation does not appear to be life-threatening, he will be held for further observation).
Thomas Schaaf's side played a friendly match with top Turkish team Trabzonspor at Mardan Palace Stadium. The Turkish side went ahead early but veteran Claudio Pizarro scored at the 40′ mark to level. There were no goals in the second half as the teams played to a 1-1 draw. New acquisition Denni Advic from Sweden made his Werder Bremen debut as a 58th minute substitute for Pizarro.
Finally, Louis van Gaal's Bayern Munich side is regaining its health, which must be scary news for the other Bundesliga teams. Arjen Robben has resumed training, along with defender Holger Badstuber. Hamit Altintop is also back from the groin injury that sidelined him for Die Bayern's last match of 2010.
Van Gaal also welcomed newly signed midfielder Luis Gustavo from Hoffenheim to the club's training site in Qatar. Gustavo, 23, has been busy off the field during the winter break –on his visit home to Brazil, he became engaged to girlfriend Milene on Christmas Day. Gustavo, a devout Catholic, is very excited to be joining the Bavarian giants and has chosen two former Bayern players as his role models. "Lucio and Ze Roberto. I like their attitude, they always give everything. That's the way I am too" said the young Brazilian.
I like the fact that the Bundesliga takes a winter break, giving players and coaches a chance to rest, regroup and also to spend time with their families over the holidays. But I'd be a liar if I didn't admit being antsy for January 14 to roll around.
Gerry Wittmann
Latest posts by Gerry Wittmann (see all)
FC St. Pauli Win Hamburg Derby 1-0 - February 16, 2011
Bundesliga MatchDay 22: What Did We Learn? - February 14, 2011
Bundesliga MatchDay 21: What Did We Learn? - February 8, 2011
Denni Advic
Nuri Sahin
Stefan Reisinger
Top 25 Bundesliga Players 2010/2011 (20-16)
May 27, 2011 Cristian Nyari 7
We continue our look at the Bundesliga's stand out performers this past season with the help of fellow fans, bloggers and writers. Part II of the series follows a very diverse group of players, from […]
A Closer Look at Borussia Dortmund's Early Troubles
October 13, 2011 Cristian Nyari 5
Ahead of tomorrow's big match between Werder Bremen and Borussia Dortmund, Jonathan Lines examines Dortmund's rather precarious start to the season and the various personnel and tactical components constituting that start. Follow Jonathan on […]
Dortmund's Dilemma: How Jürgen Klopp's insistence on playing the Dortmund way may hinder their progression.
September 17, 2011 Daniel Nyari 18
Without taking away completely from Hertha Berlin's brilliant defensive performance this past Saturday, Dortmund did make it extremely difficult for themselves as Jürgen Klopp's men lost their second match of the season and first match […]


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Blue Air repositioned itself as a low-cost player and brought Krassimir Tanev to the team
By Sorin Rusi Last updated July 3 2020
Blue Air decided to give up the idea of hybrid company and return to its origins low cost carriers. He brings in the team Krassimir Tanev, one of the most experienced executives in the industry. But let's see what the press release says.
Starting July 1, Blue Air is excited to announce the appointment of Krassimir Tanev as Commercial Director. Passionate about airlines and aviation, Krassimir is one of the most experienced executives in the low cost industry.
Krassimir Tanev joins Blue Air
He has dedicated his entire career to the flight industry, working in a number of key management and business strategy positions over the past 20 years. Krassimir Tanev has extensive know-how in organizational transformation, network strategy and route planning, revenue management, business development, global sales management, marketing and brand development.
Krassimir comes with a rich management experience accumulated in large European airlines, both legacy and low cost. Krassimir Tanev joined Blue Air, coming from the IAG group, where he held both the position of Director of International Markets at Vueling, and that of General Manager at the sister company LEVEL Europe.
He previously served as Vice President of International Sales at Alitalia, as well as Executive Director at LOT Polish Airlines and Executive Director at CSA Czech Airlines.
Blue Air is repositioned as low-cost
In his new role as Commercial Director of Blue Air, Krassimir will be responsible for developing and implementing Blue Air's business strategy, prioritizing providing the best travel experience in the LCC segment, a sustainable and competitive pricing and revenue management policy. creating a cost-effective distribution model and managing the rapidly expanding Blue Air network.
Krassimir takes over from Carsten Schaeffer, a former executive at Lufthansa, Air Berlin and Saber, who will remain a member of the board of directors of Airline Invest, Blue Air's majority shareholder, and will continue to support the company in defining strategic projects. .
Flightradar monitored approximately 13 flights simultaneously.
The United Kingdom presented the green list of countries exempted from isolation / quarantine. Romania is NOT on the list!


This is a 88 cm (34,6") long kangaroo leather show lead in gold & purple leather with a combination of gold & purple beads. It has a snap hook so you can attach any kind of collar you like.
The lead has a 60kg (130lbs) core, and two sets of beads. The lead is braided under the beads, and the beads are secured with a knot so they won't move. Thickness of the lead is about 5mm (3/16)". Note that the fringes and snap is not included in the length above. Durable snap, 46 mm (1,8").


Tucked away in the narrow back streets of the Gothic Quarter, the Cafe de l'Academia is a local secret that's recently popped up on the tourist radar thanks to some rave guidebook reviews.
The modern Catalan cuisine certainly deserves the hype with dishes like lasagne with black pudding, rack of lamb and, typically for a Catalan restaurant, a wide selection of succulent of fish dishes – such as cod gratinée with an artichoke mousse.
Proprietor Jordi Casteldi also owns his own vineyard and tasty drops from the grapes of Catalonia certainly add to L'Academia's authentic regional feel. If you need any further endorsement of the Cafe's quality then how about the fact it doesn't even bother opening on weekends? Or even own a website. Or accept bookings via email. There's simply no pandering to tourists at this address. Don't worry if you can't get a table thought, this is just one of many great restaurants in Barcelona!
Fancy yourself as a culinary connoisseur? Then you might enjoy these gourmet food and wine tours.
Tasty food, and while there's a good selection of wine, the house wine is excellent, so you don't have to shell out too many euros for a pleasant meal.


22 Fresh Space Efficient Home Plans – Our layout are incredibly detailed. As soon as you have decided on a floor program, you are going to have the possibility to reassess the strategy to develop architectural and also electric changes to please the needs of your loved ones. As soon as you have selected a plan, merely contact your area DeShano sales agent to speak about your requirements as well as any type of changes you would certainly like to make to your plan.
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Creating your house can be a difficult and also overwhelming treatment. In the majority of situations, a home is one of the most significant purchase you could ever before make. If you love your residence, you won't question to provide every little thing to locate the Interior Design work done. When you are gotten ready for all of us to aid you design your next home, we've obtained an initial assessment to get recommendations as well as illustrations. It's extremely straightforward to get carried away when producing your home from scratch, so ensure to rule yourself in when called for. There are lots of points to take into consideration as you prepare to build your new house.
Your residence will serve your demands especially, and also fit in perfectly with the way you live. If you're pondering developing your house from a customized program, it is necessary to ask for the support of a professional Columbus home contractor. When it relates to custom residences, criterion is really whatever you decide on, Billy explained. If you're thinking of constructing a custom-made modern home, it can be useful to browse through our collection.
The procedure is adhered to up with very closely with the consumer and also personalized homebuilder to guarantee the job is performed in conformity with the applicable metropolitan standards. It starts also before the style is propounded paper and continues long after the conclusion of building. The entire procedure commonly lasts from 3 to 6 weeks, yet may be scheduled to satisfy your requirements.
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Eulalia Juan Pastor was born in Palma de Mallorca in Spain. She received her Bachelor of Science degree in Education (therapeutic pedagogy) in 1991 from the University of the Balearic Islands. In the same year, an SLP-CCC degree (Master's in Language and Hearing Impairment) followed. Eulalia went on to specialize in hearing problems in children during a training course in 1997. In 2006 she obtained her post-graduate degree in Audiology from the University of Salamanca. In 2012 she received an international certificate in auditory verbal therapy in a course coordinated by Warren Estabrooks.
1998-2015 – Clinical and technical specialist for first Spain, then Portugal for Cochlear. She has been active in cochlear implantation rehabilitation since the first CI was implanted in Mallorca in 1989. In this capacity, she coordinated the first 3 multicentric studies in Spain together with Drs. Manrique, Ramos, Morera and García-Ibáñez.
The collaboration between E. J. Pastor and Cochlear has also continued: she currently holds the roles of Rehabilitation Consultant in the Cochlear Academy for the EMEA region.
E. J. Pastor also has a history of collaborating with the Lehnhardt Foundation while working on the HICEN and QESWHIC projects.


Are We Really on the Right Side of the Digital Divide?
I read an op-ed in the Minneapolis Star Tribune yesterday titled, "The future of work in a digital world." The article talked about how digital tools and technologies have made the world a better place to live–but, quite possibly could also lead to a sharp downturn, and potentially the death, of our society.
If you read this blog, you are most likely a part of what some call "the digital elite." This means you have easy access to the internet. You own a smart phone. You probably have a tablet. You even may have a Apple Watch.
Older people, generally. According to a 2013 Pew Internet study, only 46 percent of Americans 65 and older had access to a smart phone and broadband internet in 2013.
Rural folks, too. According to more recent Pew data, 84 percent of folks in Washington, D.C. have broadband access. 73 percent in Miami. But, look to more rural areas (or states) like Mississippi and that number plunges to just 57 percent.
And, of course, education levels matter, too. 52 percent of those with no high school diploma had access to a smart phone or broadband internet. By comparison, 93 percent of college-educated Americans had access.
But, are these folks on the other side of the digital divide so much worse off than us right now? Are we so much better off?
I'm over-simplifying things, but that's about it, right?
* Helps build relationships. Does it really though? On the plus side, I do feel a bit closer to a lot more people. But, how well do I really know those people? How many of my 1,500 Facebook friends (I have no idea how many FB friends I have–just a wild guess), do I consider "close friends?" How many of them would I share news that my son was in the hospital, for example? How many would I tell about a big business milestone? The answer: Not too many. I would argue social media has definitely given us the tools to "keep in touch" with far more people than ever before. And, that helps on many levels. But, does it really mean we have more friends? Does it mean we have deeper relationships? Does is mean we're happier? I'm not so sure you can say 'yes' to any of those.
* Helps make you smarter. Yes, social media gives you access to more information than you could have possibly imagined 20 years ago. And I, for one, am very grateful for that. But, has social media given you information you couldn't have consumed in a classroom, by reading a book, or by sitting down with a good, old-fashioned newspaper? I love reading all the different perspectives we see online each day about marketing, politics, religion and our communities. But, I'm just not 100 percent sure I couldn't have got that information from other sources–and, more importantly, I'm not sure I'm that much better off for it.
* Helps connect you with the world. Hard to argue this one. Social has brought us so much closer together. And, in a much more intimate way thanks to the huge explosion of video tools and capabilities. But again, weren't we pretty connected thanks to media like TV, radio and newspapers before? And, don't we all have a threshold for how connected we can really be? Social has definitely helped connect the world and make it a bit smaller–I'm just wondering how great the benefit has been.
This all leads me to a scenario I've been thinking about lately. What if my wife I had moved to rural southeaster Minnesota 10 years ago, before all this digital media stormed on the scene?
What if we had built a house on 10 acres of land and decided to start our family in a small town, instead of the 15th largest market in the U.S.?
What if we had sent our kids to a high school with a graduating class of 50 instead of 500?
What if we raised our family and didn't own a tablet OR a smart phone?
Would our lives really have been that much worse off? I'd be on the wrong side of the digital divide, that's for sure. Pew told me as much since I wouldn't have owned a smart phone or had broadband access.
But would my life have been worse as a result?
You see, I bring this up because I hear a lot of people talking about that exact scenario.
Trading in the urban, go-go lifestyle for a slower, more rural pace.
Moving to the stix. Buying land. Living a simpler life.
If I did that, would I really be on the wrong side of anything?
I'm not saying I'm considering this path. I'm not saying that's in my future.
What I am saying is this: I'm not so sure the "wrong side" of the digital divide is really all that bad.
In fact, I think some people might be seeking it out.
And, I think that group is about to grow a little bit bigger in the years ahead.
This article was syndicated from Business 2 Community: Are We Really on the Right Side of the Digital Divide?


Animal studies have revealed evidence of increased early/total resorptions, meliorated limbs, developmental retardation, decreased fetal weight, and skeletal malformations. There are no controlled data in human pregnancy.
Use is recommended only if clearly needed and benefit outweighs potential risk.
-According to some authorities: Use is not recommended in pregnancy or women of childbearing potential not using contraception.
Risk summary: Limited data available in pregnant women to inform a drug-associated risk for major birth defects and miscarriage.
-Discuss the potential for unintended pregnancy with premenopausal women as the therapeutic benefits of a reduction in levels of growth hormone and normalization of insulin-like growth factor (IGF-1) in acromegalic females treated with this drug may lead to improved fertility.
Comments: Breastfeeding should be discontinued during treatment.
Animal studies showed excretion of this drug in milk at levels 30% of the plasma level; growth retardation was seen in pre- and post-natal studies, but after weaning body weight gains were comparable to control groups, showing reversibility.
"Product Information. Signifor (pasireotide)." Novartis Pharmaceuticals, East Hanover, NJ.


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Former Trump adviser fires back at Dr. Birx over her coronavirus accusations: 'It is an Orwellian attempt to rewrite history'
Photo (left): Joshua Roberts/Getty Images; Photo (right): Joshua Roberts/Getty Images
Dr. Scott Atlas, a former medical adviser to former President Donald Trump, fired back at accusations from Dr. Deborah Birx, who also worked in the Trump administration.
On Tuesday, excerpts of congressional testimony from Birx were released where she accused the Trump administration of being too distracted by the election. She also claimed in the comments from early October that 30% to 40% of the coronavirus deaths during Trump's term could have been avoided.
She went on to blame some voices skeptical of social distancing guidelines.
"Do I think that we could have done more on unified messaging coming out of the White House?" Birx asked rhetorically. "Do I think we could have done more on — very early on showing the efficacy of masks? Yes. And I think that would have decreased the confusion."
Atlas immediately fired back at Birx.
"It is an Orwellian attempt to rewrite history to blame those who criticized the lockdowns that were widely implemented for the failure of the lockdowns that were widely implemented," said Atlas in a statement Tuesday.
"The policy recommendations of Dr. Birx as Coordinator of the White House Task Force were implemented by governors throughout nearly the entire nation during 2020. Those policies failed to stop the dying, failed to stop the infection from spreading, and inflicted massive health damage and destruction, particularly on working class and lower-income families and on our children," he continued.
"History's biggest failure of public health policy lies directly at the hands of those who recommended the lockdowns and those who implemented them, not on those who advised otherwise. Period," he concluded.
Atlas went on to deny that he advised to "let the infection spread widely without mitigation to achieve herd immunity."
The denial by Atlas seemed at odds with comments he made in October 2020 advocating for lower-risk people to become infected.
Here's more about the coronavirus in the U.S.:
Signs Of Hope As New Coronavirus Cases Drop In The US www.youtube.com
Scott Atlas defends COVID work, slams Deborah Birx testimony as ... ›
Birx: Trump administration could have prevented COVID-19 deaths ... ›


In the above example session 2496 is holding 47 locks and blocking most of the other sessions.
While data is being updated the affected rows are locked, either at a row or page level. The affected table can be identified as can the user holding the lock.
If the rowid equals zero, the lock is a table lock.
If the rowid ends in two zeros, the lock is a page lock.
If the rowid is six digits or less and does not end in zero, the lock is probably a row lock.
If the rowid is more than six digits, the lock is probably an index key value lock.
Refer to the reference manuals for a full explanation.


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Massyla cumingiana is een slakkensoort uit de familie van de Cancellariidae. De wetenschappelijke naam van de soort is voor het eerst geldig gepubliceerd in 1844 door Petit de la Saussaye.

Cancellariidae

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


Make your bedroom a sanctuary! A luxurious custom upholstered headboard adds not only irresistible comfort it also creates an elegant focal point in your room.
This is a custom order and cannot be returned.
For a fabric swatch - please e-mail contact@jillsorensen.com.
Please allow 9 - 12 weeks for delivery.


I recently got a lot on my mind as so many things I didn't think of coming before has finally get into my life. I just realized that my life right now is not like the one I had before, everything starts to change. By change, I mean it climbs up to the whole new level and I'm thankful to Allah for who I am right now.


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The Girl from Berlin
Kate Hewitt
Genres: General FictionComing of AgeFamily LifeHistorical FictionJewish FictionLiterary FictionWar & Military
'Absolutely brilliant, emotional, and heartbreaking… My TOP read of 2021… Everyone should be reading this book… Quite frankly it is worth 1 million shining stars.' Sinfully Wicked Book Reviews ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
1936, Nazi-ruled Berlin. A heartbreaking and stunningly powerful novel of friendship, courage and betrayal, about two girls whose lives collide in war-torn Berlin, and whose friendship is the only thing that might get them out alive. They sat together on the roof, watching Berlin burn, as traces of smoke and cloud floated through the air. "I just want to be free," Rosa said quietly, "Even if only for a few minutes. It might be the last chance I have." From her beautiful new home in Berlin, a young woman named Liesel Scholz barely notices the changes to the city around her. Her life is one of privilege and safety thanks to her father's job working for the new government. But a chance encounter with Rosa, the daughter of their Jewish housekeeper, confirms Liesel's fears that something isn't right. That the Nazi government's brutal rules are cruel and dangerous, and that others aren't as safe as she is. When Rosa begs Liesel to help—pressing her grandfather's gold pocket watch into Liesel's hand—Liesel recklessly agrees. She will help hide Rosa and her loved ones—in the dusty, unused rooms at the top of their house—even if it means putting everyone she loves in danger. Even if it means risking her own life. Frankfurt, 1946 : An idealistic American captain, Sam Houghton, arrives in Germany to interrogate prominent Nazis on trial and to help rebuild a battered country. When he hires an enigmatic, damaged interpreter named Anna, he doesn't expect sparks to fly between them. Perhaps there is a chance of love for both of them. But then the question of what happened to Anna in the war raises its head. Because Anna has secrets—ones that link her to Berlin, the Nazi party, and the story of one gold pocket watch and two young women who became friends, even when they were told it was impossible… A compelling and haunting story about courage, love and betrayal set in war-torn Berlin. Fans of The Alice Network, All the Light We Cannot See and The Nightingale will be not be able to put this down. Readers are loving The Girl from Berlin : "I was utterly engrossed from the start… so haunting and raw, it hits you deep into your very core… A heartbreaking and yet powerful novel… utterly amazing… I devoured it and felt so upset when I finished it… I cannot praise it enough… [A] raw and heart wrenching novel that pulls at your heart strings." Goodreads Reviewer ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
" Beautiful, strong and absorbing… I confess to shedding tears… A powerhouse of emotions, activity and full of heart… A real page turner. It gripped me from the very beginning." Reviewing Recommended Reads, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
"Hauntingly wonderful!... Broke my heart over and over again… Gut-wrenching, mind-blowing." Healthy Body, Mind and Soul ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
"I couldn't put it down. I found myself in tears… My heart really ached… truly astounding… I'm going to be giving this book one of my rare five stars! A must read!" Goodreads Reviewer ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
"Heartbreaking… I absolutely loved every moment… I was caught in a catch 22 where I was willing the novel to last forever whilst at the same time longing to know how it would all end… the very definition of a satisfying read." On the Shelf Books ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
" WOW, this amazing, captivating and emotionally gripping story is one that you are sure to remember for a long time. It captures your attention from the very first page… Will have you reaching for the box of Kleenex… Emotional and phenomenal." Page-turners ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
"Open the door, Fraulein."
There are three of them, crowding the narrow hall that smells of drains and decay and death. The older one who spoke is looking at her with a weary sort of indifference, which is somehow worse than if he'd been either angrily threatening or deadly quiet. He knows she is cornered, helpless. The other two seem just as bored; one scratches his stubbly cheek, his battered rifle pointing at her at a forty-five-degree angle. If he shoots her, it will be in the kneecap, except she doesn't think he is going to shoot her.
She swallows. Stays silent. And she doesn't move. She is not deceiving herself that she can keep these three soldiers here forever, or even for five minutes. But if she can stall them for just a few seconds… if she can give the others enough time to get away, to find some sort of escape, at least from this.
"Open the door, Fraulein. Jetzt." Now. She hears a bit of temper in his voice, but not much. Not enough. She stays where she is.
The soldier who spoke sighs, as if he is a schoolteacher and she is a recalcitrant pupil in need of no more than a slapped hand. She is a fly he cannot be bothered to swat. He says something to the other, she can't hear what, a guttural command that feels inevitable. Her heart begins to thud. She can guess what happens next, and she is ready for it.
It feels as if every dark and uncertain moment up until now has been preparing her for this—from that first faint twinge of doubt she'd felt when staring up at the stadium in all of its Olympic glory to the terrible, leaden knowledge lodged inside her nearly nine years later, when she'd surveyed the sweep of broken bodies strewn over that once-hallowed ground. All of it, every single labored breath and agonizing choice, had been preparing her for the penance she can finally make, for she knows she has so much to atone for.
Have they got away?
The second soldier, the one who received the command, hefts his rifle to his shoulder, so it is aiming at her heart. She hears a click and she closes her eyes, her body pressed against the door, as she waits for whatever comes next, knowing she will accept it. She will embrace it, because perhaps then she can be forgiven.
That is the last thing she lets herself remember.
It was meant to be perfect, and yet it rained. Liesel Scholz craned her neck to look out her bedroom window at the dank sky that bore down on the city like an unwholesome blanket, turning everything to gray, the Grunewald forest on the edge of Berlin shrouded in tendrils of damp fog. A few fat raindrops spattered onto the pavement of Koenigsallee below, a rather dismal harbinger for the magnificent proceedings that were to unfurl today, in the Reich's most triumphant occasion to date. It was the opening of the Olympics, meant to be the finest display of Aryan superiority and strength the waiting world had ever seen.
"The weather dares to disobey the Führer," her father remarked lightly as he poked his head through the doorway of her bedroom. "But, more importantly, what do you think of my new suit?"
Liesel turned from the window, planting her hands on her hips as she made a show of inspecting her father's single-breasted suit, cut, as always, in the latest style. "It's quite… bright," she remarked a bit dubiously, for the pattern was of bright green check, far from the usual sober browns, blacks, and grays that most men wore these days. "But you look very handsome as always." With his tall, lean physique, sandy hair and hazel eyes so often full of humor, her father cut a debonaire and slightly louche figure, especially compared to the stern, stodgy types Liesel saw so often now—the Hitler Youth boys with their razor-straight partings and bright, steely eyes, or their corpulent fathers, with their glossily bald heads and ruddy, sweating faces.
Otto Scholz was nothing like either of those unlovely specimens, and for that, as much as the attention he showered on her so easily and so happily, she loved him.
He chuckled now as he gazed down at his outfit with a wry look of acknowledgment. "Ah, yes, so it is, but I want to be noticed today. There will be many important people around us, Lieseling," he explained, using the pet name he'd made up for her when she was small, a play on liebling—or darling—and one Liesel pretended to think was babyish but secretly still loved.
"Why am I not allowed to be noticed, then?" she returned with a half-mock pout.
A faint frown creased her father's forehead as she dared to touch on that one forbidden subject—her mother. Ilse Scholz had, despite her own penchant for high fashion and French perfume, insisted Liesel wear a plain dark skirt and white blouse with a pair of obnoxiously sturdy shoes. In such a staid outfit she looked even younger than her fourteen years.
"You do not need to make an impression," Ilse had told her with a pointed look at her husband. Otto had simply smiled, ignoring the jibe, if it had indeed been one.
Liesel couldn't tell if it had been or not; she so rarely could, when it came to her parents and their complex relationship. She believed her father adored her mother with an unreserved wholeheartedness, something that annoyed her on occasion as she loved being the center of his gentle and teasing affection, and too often she wasn't.
As for her mother… Ilse Scholz, a cool, dark-haired beauty who could have once graced Berlin's finest concert halls as a pianist if she'd chosen to do so, seemed too remote and withdrawn for that sort of intensity of emotion; her distant gaze often skimmed over everyone, including her husband, never resting or settling, but always drifting on, to an unknown place it seemed as if she'd rather be.
At least Liesel would not have to deal with her mother's cool disapproval today. Ilse had refused to come to the Opening Ceremony even though Otto had procured tickets to one of the VIP loges in the stadium, thanks to his position at IG Farben, one of Germany's largest chemical manufacturers.
"I have no need to see such ostentatious displays," Ilse had stated coolly, "and the excitement and crowds would be far too much for Friedrich."
Liesel's younger brother, at six years old, had a poor constitution and a weak chest, in addition to a slightly twisted left foot thanks to a difficult birth. "He needed an extra tug," Otto liked to say—and as a result he was hopelessly coddled, and, Liesel thought, rather spoiled by her parents, and sometimes even by her. She couldn't help but feel sorry for poor little Friedy, with his thick spectacles and his owlish stare, his dreamy ways and his hesitant, limping walk.
Perhaps because of his infirmities, or maybe because of the many miscarriages that had preceded his birth, and the children who had never come after, Liesel sometimes felt as if there was a river of loss running through the empty center of their home, although her parents never spoke of such things, or even acknowledged they existed.
Still, she saw it in the way her mother often went to bed in the middle of the afternoon, and how her father acted as if this were a perfectly normal thing to do. She felt it in the distance that had always yawned between her and her mother, especially as she'd grown older. Was it because her mother was afraid to love her? Or was she simply too weary from all the losses that she couldn't summon the energy for affection? Whatever the reason, it had bred in Liesel a deep, simmering resentment, as well as a silent disdain. Her father did not have such troubles. Why did her mother have to be so weak?
In any case, her mother did not seem to have those same troubles with Friedrich. Certainly, she refused him nothing, except perhaps to attend the Ceremony today, which he'd wanted to desperately, as he was an enthusiastic devotee of the Führer, listening to his speeches on the wireless with a grave intensity that belied his few years.
Ilse had promised him an ice cream at Café Kranzler on the Kurfurstendamm instead, which Liesel thought quite a poor second choice. Still, she was glad Friedrich wasn't going. It would just be her and her father, the way she liked it.
"Don't fuss about your clothes," Otto told her now with another one of his easy smiles. "I can't bear your frowns, and in any case, there's far too much to be excited about today. Are you almost ready?"
"Yes, I am." Liesel glanced at her reflection briefly, grimacing at the schoolgirl clothes her mother had insisted upon. She almost looked as if she were wearing the uniform of the Bund Deutscher Mädel, the girls' branch of the Hitler Youth and an organization she had no desire to join, although nearly every girl in her year had since turning fourteen, spending two afternoons a week, as well as most Saturdays, in such appropriate activities as learning childcare and homecraft, distributing leaflets or running races.
Liesel thought the girls were all ridiculous, going into faints over the Führer and being so pompous about their parades and their stupid gymnastics. She'd refused to join the Jungmädel for younger girls when she'd been ten, mainly because she thought this little show of spirit pleased her father, and he hadn't even bothered to ask her about the BDM when she'd turned fourteen in February, thank goodness.
"Not every Nazi has to goosestep," she'd heard him say lightly to her mother on more than one occasion, a remark to which her mother never replied, but which Liesel had always remembered.
Now, as they headed out to the car waiting on Koenigsallee, Liesel felt excitement bubble up inside her, irrepressible and infectious. The whole city would be out today. All of Berlin had been scrubbed to a ferocious shine for its many important and international visitors, every bit of it gleaming with a hard, unyielding brightness, despite the rain.
Her family had only moved to Berlin from Frankfurt back in February, for her father had been promoted to running a factory and laboratory in Schkopau, which he traveled to at least once a week, spending the rest of his time at the laboratory in Berlin. Liesel didn't understand much of it; she did know that despite being from Berlin originally, her mother had not wanted to leave Frankfurt.
"There is nothing good to come of being in Berlin," she'd declared to Otto in a grim, final-sounding tone, when he'd announced the move at dinner one evening.
"Ah, but, Ilse," Otto had exclaimed as lightly as ever, "what about the cafés and the cabarets?"
"You know as well as I do the cabarets play nothing but German marching music these days."
"The cafés then," Otto had insisted with a smile. "The coffee will be better, at least."
"These days it's difficult to find anything but ersatz."
Otto had thrown up his hands in a parody of defeat. "Very well," he'd intoned gloomily. "There is nothing whatsoever that is good about Berlin. Not even the house on Koenigsallee that is twice as big as this one, or the chauffeured car we shall be able to use, or the beauty of the Tiergarten or Grunewald…"
A flicker of a smile had touched her mother's mouth and then died, but she had not made any reply.
Now, as they drove toward the Olympic Stadium in the newly constructed Reichssportfeld built for this year's Games, Liesel felt as if she were about to ascend onto a stage, as if the whole city were putting on a performance, a collective breath held before the show was to begin, and for a few moments she could imagine she was its star.
It was as if there was a crackling excitement in the air, an electric hum that traveled along her veins and ignited her heart as she gazed at the crowds heading to the stadium on foot: families with picnic baskets, children skipping ahead, smiling soldiers of the Schutzstaffel enjoying the spectacle and yet still smart in their black uniforms—a streaming surge of humanity intent on celebration. Today was important; today she was somebody important.
"Look how clean the city is," Otto remarked as the car headed up Douglasstrasse toward the Reichssportfeld. "Not a begging gypsy in sight."
"Who cares about gypsies?" Liesel returned, and Otto chucked her under the chin.
"Not you, apparently."
"Of course I don't." She never even thought about them, dirty begging creatures on street corners. She turned back to the window, her nose nearly pressed to the glass. The car continued to crawl forward in the traffic and people on bicycles weaved in and out, everyone heading toward the stadium.
"I doubt you'll see anyone important walking or cycling," Otto remarked dryly. "Anyone who is anyone will be coming in a chauffeured car as we are."
"I just want to see," Liesel answered. She didn't actually care about the so-called important people—Goebbels or Göring, Himmler or Hess, or even Hitler himself—the members of the Nazi elite who so many adulated, as celebrities bored Liesel; they looked too severe, and when they could have spoken, they often shouted instead. Who cared for their fury? She was not interested in them.
Besides, her father didn't seem to actually like any of the Nazi officials, although he never said as much, and he'd been a Party member for three years. Liesel had long ago noticed how a wry, slightly mocking edge entered his voice whenever he spoke about Hitler or the men who surrounded him. That was good enough for her. If her father didn't like the Nazis, if he found them ridiculous, with their strutting and their shouting, then she would feel the same.
She did, however, like being a part of things, especially on a day like today, when the whole world felt electric and alive, and she was right in the middle of it.
Their car pulled up to the magnificent Olympic Stadium, a huge, oval amphitheater—modeled on the Colosseum of ancient Rome—that could seat over one hundred thousand people. Today it would be crammed full of both spectators and competitors, as athletes from many countries processed through the stadium, dipping their flags to Hitler's straight-armed salute while the crowd roared their unabashed approval and the world watched, for the Games were to be televised for the first time in history.
Liesel followed her father into the stadium, doing her best to adopt his worldly, insouciant air as he flashed his papers and slipped through a cordoned-off area guarded by a stern-looking SS officer, to a wide tunnel that led to the VIP loges.
They really were important, she thought with a thrill as they traversed the grand concourse bedecked with scarlet and black swastika flags, her father smiling and waving to anyone he recognized, while Liesel kept her chin up, her head held high, as if she were a grand lady rather than a girl in school clothes. At least she could pretend.
The sheer size of the stadium, already filling up with people, took her breath away, although she tried to look unimpressed by its magnitude. It seemed as if all of Berlin would be there to see the momentous events, crammed into its towering rows of seats, eagerly awaiting the spectacle.
Their seats, however, were something of a disappointment; although they were indeed in one of the VIP loges, it was far from those reserved for the top Nazi officials by Hitler's viewing platform, and instead was a third of the way down the length of the stadium, on the side. Still, they would have a good view of the athletes as they processed, and that would surely be more interesting than watching a bunch of Nazis complete an endless round of fervent Sieg Heils.
"I'd rather see Jesse Owens than Joseph Goebbels," she told her father with a pert look, and he smiled faintly before pressing a finger to his lips.
"A sensible approach, I'm sure, although not one I'd discuss with our present company." He nodded toward a couple that were making their way to their loge—an overweight man with pomaded hair and a Party pin on his lapel, and his unsmiling wife in a gray skirt and matching belted jacket, both cut in a severe style. "Herr Wolff, Frau Wolff," Otto said as he sent his arm out in the straight salute that had become essential to the most basic pleasantry. "Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler," Herr Wolff replied, and Liesel had to dodge out of the way as his arm shot out like an iron. She looked at him and his sour-faced wife with undisguised resentment; if she had been hoping for interesting or amenable companions for the afternoon, she knew now she was to be disappointed.
Still, the sheer spectacle of the event was enough to keep her entertained; the ceremony began with a flyover of the massive Hindenburg, the Olympic flag with its five colorful circles streaming behind it, and then Hitler entered the stadium through the Marathon steps, sober-faced, high-ranking Nazi officials flanking him. He paused to accept flowers from a little girl before ascending the platform, as the orchestra burst into a rousing rendition of Wagner's March of Homage.
As the officials filed onto the viewing platform, Liesel felt a reluctant flicker of fascination she hadn't expected, simply because they were clearly so important. What must it feel like, to have half the world staring at you in such awe? To have that much attention and power, and to know it full well, to consider it your right and your due?
As the orchestra struck up Deutschland über Alles, Liesel glanced at her father; she saw he was merely mouthing the words as he studied the men on the platform, his hands in his trouser pockets, a slight frown creasing his features as his gaze moved slowly over each one.
A few minutes earlier, when Hitler had ascended the platform, the crowds had gone wild, as they always did; Liesel had had to suppress the urge to clap her hands over her ears as the Sieg Heils roared over the stadium in a wave of nearly demented exultation. Next to her, Herr Wolff's face had adopted a frenzied look, his eyes bulging as spittle flew from his mouth.
"I have never understood the need to deify such a petty little man," Liesel had once heard her father say, late one evening, when he'd thought she'd been in bed but she'd crept down the stairs to listen to her parents talk in low voices over glasses of cognac. "And I've heard he has bad breath and terrible gas."
"Otto, really." Her mother had laughed, a rich, throaty sound Liesel normally never heard. "The adoring crowds won't know such things."
"And if they did? I wonder…" Her father's voice had been a mixture of amusement and sobriety. "Could the Third Reich be felled by the power of halitosis?"
Now, in the huge stadium, Liesel was as close to Hitler as she'd ever been, close enough to see the shock of glossy dark hair that flopped over his forehead, the ruthlessly trimmed moustache that seemed to her so small and so silly; the stern look in his eyes that somehow, despite her own determination to somehow feel superior to the leader of her country, made her straighten her spine.
His eyes, she saw, really were as blue and penetrating as the colored portrait that adorned so many sitting rooms, including their own.
The cheering and the frenzied Sieg Heils continued as the parade of nations began, each country processing in front of Hitler while his arm remained as unbending as an iron rod, his expression unflinching and severe.
Liesel was fascinated by the seemingly never-ending parade of smartly dressed athletes preceded by their country's flag, all of them walking in time and most unsmiling as they saluted the men on the viewing platform.
"It is convenient," Otto remarked sotto voce, "that the Olympic salute so closely resembles that of the Nazi party."
Liesel glanced at him uncertainly. "There is an Olympic salute?"
"Indeed." He nodded toward the team from Canada now marching past the viewing platform, arms straight out. "They are not, in fact, heiling Hitler, whatever he and his cronies may prefer to believe," he told her in a murmur only she could hear.
The large team from the United States, Liesel noticed, did not offer Hitler any salute, but rather removed their straw boaters and placed their hands over their hearts. As they passed by the platform, their flag did not dip.
"Ah, the symbolic gesture," her father murmured, his lids half-lowered. "So powerful. So pointless."
Finally the team from Germany, as the host country, came out last, and although Liesel had not thought it possible, the crowd's roaring grew louder, fiercer, their fists raised or their arms shot out, so it seemed to her as if there was something almost angry about their joy.
"The German people have waited a long time to be feted in such a way," her father explained to her quietly, answering her silent question as he so often seemed able to do.
When the athletes had all assembled, the last runner of the torch relay, a concept that had been introduced only this year, emerged from the tunnel and did a graceful circuit of the stadium before lighting a cauldron at the top of the stadium that would burn for the entire Games. There was something both noble and inspiring about the single figure with his torch held aloft, so Liesel felt a stirring inside her, a sense of purpose as well as being part of something greater. She glanced around at the exultant crowd, feeling united with them in a way she hadn't expected.
Then the president of the German Olympic Committee made a speech that Liesel did not bother listening to, instead studying the athletes assembled in the stadium like soldiers of the world, many in colorful ensembles from their home countries, and then Hitler himself stepped forward, causing the wild crowd to fall silent in an expectant, reverent hush.
"I proclaim open the Olympic Games of Berlin, celebrating the Eleventh Olympiad of the modern era," he stated, and the cheers and Sieg Heils began again in earnest as twenty-five thousand pigeons were released into the air and a cannon went off with a boom that made Liesel jump.
"I fear the pigeons have been startled," her father remarked with a nod to the flock of birds that had risen up over the stadium; it took Liesel a moment to realize the frightened birds' droppings were splattering all over the stadium, much to the rueful dismay of all the athletes assembled below. "How unfortunate," he continued in a low, laughing voice, "that our Führer did not consider the matter more closely." He turned to the loge's other occupants with a ready smile. "Herr Wolff, how did you enjoy the day's festivities? Quite a remarkable show, don't you think? I can hardly wait until the competitions begin."
"Germany will excel, of course," Herr Wolff said, bristling, and Otto smiled faintly in return.
Later, as they walked out of the stadium amidst the stream of humanity, Liesel, still caught up in the exultant emotion of the day, asked her father rather suddenly, "Vati, why don't you like Hitler?"
Her father's expression remained relaxed even as his gaze darted quickly around at the people walking near them. "Who says I don't like him? Why, I don't know him. But if he came to tea, I daresay I would be very pleased. I'd certainly serve him some cake. I hear he has as much a fondness for it as he does a dislike of meat."
Liesel smiled at that as she persisted with her point. "Yes, yes, but you know what I mean."
"I wonder if you know what you mean," Otto returned. "Or are you merely parroting things you've heard while crouching behind doorways or on stairs?" His smiling yet shrewd gaze pinned her in place for a moment before he caught sight of someone walking ahead of them. "Herr Ambros. Were the ceremonies not magnificent? Have you met my daughter, Liesel?"
Liesel waited silently while her father exchanged pleasantries with his work colleague; she heard them talking about Schkopau, although she could not follow the conversation.
"Your father has friends in high places," Ambros told her with a smile that did not reach his eyes, and Liesel glanced at her father uncertainly, not sure how to reply. She did not know much about her father's work, only that he was a chemist and he liked to call himself an inventor. He'd done something with pesticides when she was small, but she didn't know what.
Finally they were walking again and once more she had his attention.
"Why did Herr Ambros say you had friends in high places?"
"Because I am ambitious, which is no bad thing."
"You still haven't answered my question about Hitler."
"I believe I did, and you surely won't get another answer from me," Otto returned lightly before a slight frown came over his features as he gave her a more serious look. "Liesel, at your age you must know the impropriety of such questions, especially in a place like this." He nodded to the crowded space all around them—the concourse bedecked by dozens of large swastika banners, the children waving flags, a couple of SS officers laughing and tossing a ball between them on a stretch of grass nearby.
"But you don't care about such things," Liesel answered in surprise. "You never have." Which was why she didn't either. The preening girls with their absurd adoration of Hitler, the teachers who lectured about race science as if it was something obvious and elemental, the fussy men who had been standing on the platform and even the brownshirts she saw marching on the streets… all of it was to be disdained, if quietly. Privately. "You've always acted as if you don't care about any of them," she insisted.
"I believe your opinion of me is far too elevated," her father replied a bit shortly. "I care as much as the next man. The Führer is the leader of my country. Naturally, I must respect and obey him, especially if I am to get on in this world."
They walked in silence for a few moments; Liesel felt strangely disappointed by her father's strait-laced answer. It had almost felt as if he were scolding her, and for what? Parroting his own opinions? Was he allowed to tease, and she wasn't?
She'd liked it, she realized, when she and her father had been complicit in their disdain for the Nazis, even if she knew better than to say as much to anyone else. She liked the feeling of being different together, a little bit superior and smug to the crowd that followed so blindly the leaders that were so earnest and so very dull. She did not want to be like everyone else, and she certainly didn't want her father to be.
"I can tell I have not lived up to your lofty expectations," Otto remarked wryly as they reached the street. "And for that I am, of course, sorry. But I am not a rebel, Liesel, and neither, I think, are you. It's easy to make smart comments, less so to actually do something." He let out a quiet sigh as he gave a small shake of his head. "As Goethe says, 'To think is easy. To act is hard.'"
"And what would you do, if you could do something?" Liesel asked. She wasn't entirely sure what her father meant, although she knew he loved to quote his beloved Goethe. He'd read her both parts of Goethe's Faust as bedtime stories, and she'd memorized passages herself, just to please and impress him.
"Obey my Führer, like I said," he answered after a moment, his voice sounding strangely heavy. "And protect and care for my family, as any good father would do. That is all I can hope for in this world, all I aspire to."
Yet he'd said he was ambitious. Liesel opened her mouth to make some protesting reply, but her father silenced her, touching her arm as he nodded toward a fleet of buses lined up at the side of the stadium, waiting to take the athletes back to the Olympic Village some twenty miles away. "Do you see the brackets on the top of those buses?" he asked her, and Liesel gazed at the buses blankly.
"That's where the machine guns will go," he said softly. He sounded both sorrowful and impressed. "Ingenious, is it not? Right there in plain view of the whole world, as we celebrate a strong and peaceful nation. And the gliders that are so gracefully arcing over the stadium on this happy day?" He tilted his head upwards, a faint smile on his face as he regarded the display above them, the gliders as slender and lovely as birds. "Attach a motor to one and it becomes a fighter plane."
Liesel lowered her head to stare at him in confusion. Why was he talking about guns and planes, on today of all days? "What are you saying, Vati?"
"We are a peace-loving nation determined to rearm ourselves, my Lieseling," he replied with a small smile. They started walking again, toward the waiting car. "And like it or not, that is how I will make our fortune."
It lay on her bed, indicting her with its ugliness: a white middy blouse with the wretched emblem on its sleeve, a navy skirt, a black tie, sturdy marching shoes. Liesel hated it all.
"What is this?" she demanded of her mother as she stormed downstairs, holding the blouse aloft as if it were a dirty rag.
Ilse was sitting in the dining room with its dark, heavy furniture, the velvet curtains drawn against the summer sunshine. She was still in her silk dressing gown, even though it was after four o'clock in the afternoon, and there was a half-drunk glass of schnapps on the table, as well as a pack of French cigarettes Liesel knew could only have been procured on the black market. Whenever her father brought them home, he made a game of her mother having to find them, checking all his pockets in smiling exasp


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Q: Unable to use REGEXP operator in System.Data.SQLite Suppose that I have the following table and data inside it:
CREATE TABLE urls (url TEXT);
INSERT INTO urls VALUES('https://www.google.ru/?gws_rd=ssl#newwindow=1&q=&safe=off');
INSERT INTO urls VALUES('https://www.google.ru/?gws_rd=ssl#newwindow=1&safe=off&q=1');
INSERT INTO urls VALUES('https://www.google.ru/?gws_rd=ssl#newwindow=1&q=2&safe=off');
INSERT INTO urls VALUES('https://www.google.ru/?gws_rd=ssl#newwindow=1&q=23&safe=off');

I need to select all records where URL contains non-empty query parameter (in this case it's all but the first record).
I'm using SQLite, so I decided to use REGEXP operator like this:
string sql = @"SELECT * FROM urls WHERE url REGEXP '\/(?:www\.)?google.+?q=([^&]+)(?:&|$)'";
var command = new SQLiteCommand(sql, dbConnection);
SQLiteDataReader reader = command.ExecuteReader();
while (reader.Read())
{
    Console.WriteLine("Url: " + reader["url"]);
}

but it gives me the following error:

An unhandled exception of type 'System.Data.SQLite.SQLiteException'
  occurred in System.Data.SQLite.dll
Additional information: SQL logic error or missing database
no such function: REGEXP

Is there any way to fix it? If no, what can I do instead?
Thanks in advance.

A: SQLite doesn't have a built-in regexp() function, as explained in the documentation:

The REGEXP operator is a special syntax for the regexp() user
  function. No regexp() user function is defined by default and so use
  of the REGEXP operator will normally result in an error message. If an
  application-defined SQL function named "regexp" is added at run-time,
  then the "X REGEXP Y" operator will be implemented as a call to
  "regexp(Y,X)".

I admit this it is unusual for a database to support syntax but not the underlying function. However, it should be easy enough to supply your own function.

A: The regexp comparison operator is not part of the SQL standard. It is an extension specific to mysql.
Probably you can just use like. This should do the same :
url LIKE '%google.%q=%'

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaStackExchange


Pre Law I internship visit to Gram Sabha of Top Gram Panchayat on 15 December 2018.
2) Electricity govt.(which is related to only street lights or govt. Lights) Dept.
4) Real Estate (Govt. Estate) Dept. of Kolhapur Municipal Corporation on 13 & 14 December 2018.
Internship visit of Pre Law II to Avni, kolhapur.
T-SHIRT painting competition held on 14th August 2018.
Internship Visit of Pre Law II to Nisarg Mitra, an NGO for environment issues on Thursday 22nd February 2018.
Elocution competition organized by Election Literacy Club on Friday 9th February 2018.
Poster Presentation Competition organized by Election Literacy Club on Thursday 8th February 2018.
'Essay writing Competition to commemorate birth anniversary of Savitribai Phule' held on Friday 5th January 2018.


text:
Home › Memorial Day 2022 SALE › Kitaro - Thinking Of You (Remastered)
Kitaro - Thinking Of You (Remastered)
CD + Mp3 - $9.99 USD Vinyl + Mp3 - $14.98 USD Mp3 Download - $8.99 USD HD Audio Download - $19.98 USD
Release Date : October 14, 2014
Catalog : 73212
Format : CD, Vinyl (180 Gram), Digital Download (AAC, Mp3), HD (24-bit | 96 kHz .WAV)
For over 40 years and throughout his musical career, Kitaro has been a truly groundbreaking artist known for his amazing live performances and music that blurs the lines between many musical genres including classical, jazz, rock, new age and world music.
After earning multiple nominations for his work, Kitaro landed his first Grammy Award in 2000 for "Thinking Of You" Moved by the nomination for Best New Age Album, he asserted, "My ultimate goal is to continue expressing my feelings through music for audiences around the world that continue to enjoy it. I am extremely pleased to have been nominated for the seventh time, but more so to finally capture this prestigious award."
Marking the 15th year anniversary of this landmark release, "Thinking Of You" features new artwork and is available on CD and 180-gram Vinyl, newly remastered from the original source tapes.
HD Audio Download : This is the Remastered version of the album only, in high definition audio (24-bit, 96 kHz WAV).
CD or Vinyl purchase includes a free Mp3 album download.
01. Estrella
02. Mercury
03. Cosmic Wave
04. Harmony Of The Forest
05. Fiesta
07. Spirit Of Water
08. Stream
09. Space II
10. Del Mar
Composed, Arranged, Performed and Produced by Kitaro
Recorded by Gary Barlough
Mixed by Peter R. Kelsey
Remastered by Tim Gennert
Graphic Design (Remastered Version) : Kio Griffith


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Q: Azure DevOps Work Item Type Condition for Notifications I created a notification setup in Azure DevOPs to receive a notification every time there is an update about bugs. Now we started working with test plans as well in the same platform, and I get notifications every time a test plan is updated. I tried to limit the notifications to bugs, but unsuccessfully. I tried added a clause to the notification condition such as Work Item Type Contains "Bug", but it doesn't work.
How can I limit the notifications I receive to a specific type of work items?

A:
How can I limit the notifications I receive to a specific type of work items?

You could try to set the Work Item Type equals Bug Work item.
Here is an example:


So…Cody and I have been married for 10 years.
I had my six week postpartum appointment yesterday so technically…this could be an anniversary to remember.
Either because I end up pregnant when the birth control I started today doesn't work or I end up a shouty crying headachey mess when the birth control I started today works a little too well.
But let's be honest. When you have a 10 year anniversary 6 weeks after having a baby? The only hot and heavy in our house is going to be our heavy bodies falling asleep in our hot bedroom at 8 pm.
I feel like I should write some sappy love post about how in love I am with the daddy of my ladies, but I'm past sappy and just plain in love with every part of him. Even the really sweaty sometimes stinky parts that make my laundry basket smell like a locker room.
Gossip of the delicious kind.
You guys are so great together. I'm so happy for you. I know this is going to be a great year for you!
What a great anniversary day. My parents are celebrating their 38th anniversary today!!
Congrats to you and Cody!!
@AmazingGreis, It will be my 38th anniversary in 28 years and 28 is my lucky number!
How can you look so great while in the hospital?? I looked like I had been run over by a concrete truck.
Happy anniversary! To many more. Years and babies, that is.
WooHoo for 10! We will hit this milestone next May.
You should really get him a suggestive piece of crusty bread as a gift. That would be awesome!
Big congratulations! What beautiful milestone.
Such an accomplishment! And one to be very proud of! Congrats Casey and Cody!!
Happy Anniversary, lil mama! We had our 15 year anniversary the day after Bennett was born. We both made out with a steak dinner and double chocolate layer cake in a hospital bed. And it was GOOOD. Hope you guys have a great one.
If things do get hot & heavy, just make sure to turn Sparkle Squirrel around. Innocent eyes and all that.
Happy Anniversary! I hope you have a fabulous day!
I LOVE his saucy expression at your wedding. That's enough heat for your anniversary all by itself.
Sigh. Happiness. I'm soooo glad you guys were able to put it back together before Miss Vivi made her appearance. DH will be finished with residency at the end of the summer. We are finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and we are sooo scared of it that we are fighting like cats and dogs. Meanwhile, we are trying to make baby #4. Hoping we also get it together before baby appears.
And next summer? Go to the Turks and Caicos. That's where we went for our tenth two years ago and IT. WAS. RAD. Just sayin'.
I love how he looks like he's about to eat you up in your wedding photo!
June 16th must be the day for love! Mike and I went on our first date 10 years ago. Time goes by too quick. WIshing you many more blissful years.
And, seriously? That's what you look like in a hospital gown? Absolutely beautiful. You could not pay me to put up a picture of me in a hospital gown.
ps…tell him he makes cute babies, too.
Ah-ha-ha!!! I totally get it. 1st anniversary – Brandon worked 18 hours and fell asleep in our posh hotel room. 2nd anniversary – I barely made it through the pain of a kidney stone to actually go to dinner. 3rd anniversary – 2 weeks after having Grant. Ha!
Happy anniversary. What a striking pair you are. Enjoy your day.


This is the first, best, and only book you will ever need for learning how to manage your ever growing portfolio of images. Peter Krogh is a commercial photographer based in Bethesda, Maryland, and has run a successful business for decades. In this book, Peter presents in wonderful detail and clarity all of the methods and tools he employs to keep track of his collection of photographs.
What good are tens or hundreds of thousands of image files if you cannot search them for the subjects a client needs?